#i UNDERSTAND what donna meant to do there and can fill in gaps but i fucking hate it
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really about to eat grass rn jULIAN *WAS* SUPPOSED TO BE A MORE IMPORTANT CHARACTER
#the secret history#julian morrow#donna tartt#i really REALLY felt his character arc was... incomplete in a way#like i know he is meant to be an ugly mirror to bunny's father#at least i sense he is#and a roman in the way anne rice's marius was#but he never lived#to this day the thing i hate most about tsh is that it's never explained how bunny chose julian to give a letter to#i UNDERSTAND what donna meant to do there and can fill in gaps but i fucking hate it
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One and Only - Dick Grayson Imagine
summary/ request: hiiii can I request some dick x titan!reader where she founds out about dawn e dick’s past and gets jealous??? you are amazing
pairing: Dick Grayson x Titan!Reader
Notes: Anony, it’s here, finally! i hope you like it xxx thank you so much to @boyy-wonder-grayson for helping me a lot on this and always being the best of the friends.
warnings: implied smut and i think it’s just this
Y/n knew Dick for as long as she could tell, and he knew the girl more than herself would ever do. She became a member of the Wayne/Batman family a little after him, when she lost her parents in a fire. She was alone when Bruce found her; the old man trained the girl until she became the vigilant she is today.
They grew up together, they learned things together, he saw her growing up and turning into a beautiful woman, but mostly a good superhero. She was Dick's first and probably only true love.
Dick, Y/n and Donna thought the world deserved a team of young heroes doing everything to help people; so they created the Titans. Hank, Dawn and Garth came a little bit after and with them the team was complete.
They fought the bad guys and things couldn’t be better. They became known, respected by their mentor from the Justice League. They were on the path to become the next big superhero group.
One year after the team was formed, Y/n had to leave to help Bruce. Gotham city was darker than ever and the Dark Knight needed her help so she left, knowing that the boy she loved would take care of the Titans and make them grow as a true leader.
Being apart from Dick would be hard, but they knew that ignoring a call from the guy who raised them was never an option. Saying goodbye hurt and he just prayed time passed fast so she could come back. Y/n didn’t want to leave the boy she grew so fond of. After years of being on his side, leaving was going to leave a hole in her heart, but she was first a hero and if Batman needed her, she would be by his side. Even if that mean leaving the love of her life behind. At least just for a while.
“stay safe, boy wonder. I’m just one phone call away” she said when she left the tower with a goodbye kiss on Dick’s lips.
Two years after she left for Gotham City, Dick decided he had to move on, and it was at the same time that Dawn and Hank had broken up. They've been together since the beginning of this adventure, but with the kind of life they had it was easy to recognize that they were different, maybe too much to be together.
They thought it was better being apart. Dick and Dawn got closer, he helped her to go through it and they started something. He liked her a lot, but he could never say it was like the fiery passion he felt for Y/n.
Dawn was nice to him, they had a good time together and it was more than enough for now.
A few months later they had the bad luck of crossing patha with Slade Wilson and it ended up with Garth’s death, the heartbreaking episode of his death broke the titans and they swore they would make justice for their friend.
Dick was drowned in his heartache. He wanted revenge. He promised himself that he was going to be the one to stop Deathstroke, no matter the cost. Dawn asked him to be batman and he would gladly do it, he did what the man he knew so well would have done, he went ‘till the end.
Y/n didn’t leave his mind even for a second, she was a missing piece to him, it was always like there was a gap by his side that was there ever since she left and could never be filled;
He missed how she would always be on his side while they researched for informations, how she would be the one to clear his mind when it got blurry, he just missed her, while in Gotham, Y/n tried to be strong, for her mentor, she tried to pretend the distance wasn’t killing her, but the fact that he was okay and following the hero life as he loved to do kept her in peace.
Dick worked hard trying to catch Slade, he researched until he found the the only thing that could affect him enough to be caught: his son, Jericho Wilson. Dick followed him, learned about him and in some point he was almost his best friend, the boy got to know the team. Using a kid wasn’t right, but losing Garth was too cruel for even thinking about this.
He definitely wasn’t a good boyfriend to Dawn, he barely slept with her anymore, he just worked non-stop until he got what he wanted. Their relationship was fading day by day, the boy tried to do better but he couldn’t do more. He was like a ghost.
The titans were focused on getting Slade by approaching to Jerichó, but what they didn’t know was that it would end up in the tragedy of losing the boy. If the titans were broken when they lost Garth, they were even more now, because the kid had died because of them and Dick took all of the guilty for leading this. He felt like trash, nothing made sense to him anymore and Dawn broke up with him, leaving the tower along with Hank and Donna. It was okay to him, after all, she didn't have to support him on his darkest time and with no resentments, she left.
Despite everything, Donna knew he would need someone to help him, so she called Y/n telling her everything that happened, the episode with Jerichó and how deep he went to make justice.
“He need you, y/n” that’s what wonder girl told y/n in the morning the old titans left, and she went running to the tower without asking anything more. She knew Dick enough to understand he needed her to get together all the broken pieces.
It was night already, but Y/n got in San Francisco faster than she thought she would, making her way right into the building. Dick was sitting on the couch, too shaken up to react, and when the elevator door opened, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, was she real?
“Y/n” he said getting up without taking his eyes off her. He wouldn’t take the risk of closing his eyes and noticing she was a mirage. She looked so beautiful, he thought when he walked to her, taking her in his embrace.
“Hello, Boy Wonder” the girl said in his arms.
He kissed her. There was so much to say, but not right now, they just wanted to enjoy each other like the old times. Dick felt like there was a sight of hope now that she was there and batman would need to excuse him, because now she was his again and he didn’t mean to let her go.
He grabbed her hips pulling her closer to him. She didn't complain when Dick's hand found their way inside her shirt, she welcomed them with enthusiasm. It's been so long since they've seen each other and this kiss was prof of it. The more they kissed the hotter it got. Hands touching every bit of skin, and their mouths never separated from each other. She sighed when Dick placed her back against the couch and kissed her deeply trying to convey how much he missed her all those years. It's like he couldn't get enough of her and that night he showed her that many, many times.
They were lying on the couch now. Y/n had her head rested on Dick’s chest while he caressed her back. There were only the sound of their tired breaths and a thin blanket covering their lower parts.
“I’m glad you’re back you know? I don’t know if i would take it all without you here” he said with still hoarse voice from the sex
“You definitely would. But i’m here to make sure of it” y/n answered looking at him this time and giving him a small kiss on the lips “There’s nothing we can’t fix together like we always did.”
The girl assured him and a little after, when things came up to her, there was an unsolved thing in her mind and she needed to talk to him about
“So...you and Dawn?” y/n asked Dick surprising him. It wasn’t that she wanted to ruin the moment, but she didn’t want to stay here with hidden feelings about anything.
“You found out about it, huh?”
“I did..Well, when I asked Donna how you were doing, i also listened to things that i’d rather not to” She said a little bit insecure about where this conversation was going to end “it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk about it, i just-”
“Hey, it’s not a problem, i’d tell you sooner or later” he knew her too much to know she felt insecure about what happened between him and Dawn. “But you should know that you don’t need to feel insecure about anything, you know? It was never like what we had or what he have, nothing could come even close to this. It was like my heart was too full of you to even open to someone else. Yes, we did have something, but it’s nothing you should worry about; you’ve always been my biggest love.” He said, trying to assure y/n
“So...nothing to worry about?”
“Nothing to worry about, babe. You took my heart with you when you left, i hope u can give me back now”
“idiot” she laughed at him and he kissed the girl
“You saw my darkness and never ran, you stayed and helped me. That’s certainly something that only you would do. So no, you don’t have to fear anything, you’re the one and only to me.” Dick could understand y/n’s feelings, he would feel exactly the same or even worst if it was with her, but once she understood what she meant to him, she would never feel like this anymore
“And you know what? I am purelly full of joy, because i am missing nothing. No one has more than I do now.” Dick said and she felt better, like it was always what she needed to hear to finally be in peace about it.
#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson one shots#dick grayson headcannons#nightwing#nightwing x reader#nightwing x y/n#dc nightwing
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Never Coming Home
(gif credit to the creator)
Part One
Master List
Pairing: Frank x OFC
Word Count: 1,660
Warnings: mentions of war, slight panic attack, language (I think)
A/N: Here’s the first part of my first series! I really love this fic so I hope you guys do too! If you’d like to be tagged let me know! Hope you guys like it! Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)
The air in the small kitchen inside the modest Cape Cod in northern New Jersey was thick with tension. Siddalee Way stood there, completely still, staring at her brothers and fiancé in complete shock. Her face was white as a sheet, something shocking considering her complexion was strikingly pale to begin with, as she tried to comprehend the words she was hearing. War. The three men she loved most in this world were leaving to go fight in the biggest war the world had seen.
She was trying to convince herself that what she was currently experiencing was some kind of nightmare. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, trying to get herself to wake up. There was no way this could actually be happening. Gerard, Mikey and Frank were all trying to talk to her. She could see their mouths moving but all she was hearing was white noise. She tried to listen to their words but she couldn’t focus. She felt as though her entire world was completely collapsing around her.
Siddalee stumbled backward slightly, the first movement she’d made in minutes, and gripped tightly to the counter to steady herself. She suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her free hand went up to her chest, gripping tightly to the fabric of her dress, as she tried to get her breathing under control. Her chest was tightening and she was gasping for air. She barely registered Frank crossing the room, coming to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her waist.
“Sidda,” he said softly, but she avoided his gaze. “Sidda, breathe.”
She couldn’t listen to him. All she could think about was losing them, getting those dreaded telegrams and finding out she would never see them again.
“Look at me,” Frank said more forcefully, taking her face in his hands.
Siddalee finally forced herself to focus on her fiancé. She held his gaze for just a moment, his hazel eyes pleading with her to understand, before her emotions finally took hold. Her eyes began to water and the tears were pouring down her face before she could attempt to stop them. Her legs gave out then and she collapsed into Frank’s arms. He caught her before she could hit the floor and pulled her close to his chest. He did his best to soothe her and let her cry in his arms until he was sure she was calm again.
When she finally stood upright again she wiped the tears from her face and smoothed out her dress. Frank moved to her side then, his arm still placed protectively around her waist on the off chance she collapsed again, and Siddalee cleared her throat. Mustering whatever gumption she had left in her to speak.
“When do you leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The three men looked at each other, trying to decide who should deliver the news. They silently agreed that Gerard, being the oldest and the person Siddalee trusted the most – aside from Frank – should be the one to tell her.
“Two weeks,” Gerard replied as Frank’s grip on Siddalee’s waist tightened.
Frank felt her falter momentarily but she regained her composure quickly.
“Two weeks, that’s…that’s a lot sooner than I expected,” she said clearing her throat again in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
Gerard nodded and Siddalee turned to Frank. “We should, uh, we should move the wedding up. To next week if we can.”
Frank looked at her completely shocked. “Sidda, we’ve got deposits down on everything. We can still get married on the date we planned, when I get back.”
Siddalee finally said what was on everyone’s minds. “Unless you don’t come back.”
“Sidda –” Frank tried to protest but she cut him off.
“No, Frankie. I am not letting you leave unless I’m your wife. I won’t…I can’t,” she said stumbling over her words as the tears threatened to fall again. “I can’t let you go and face the possibility of losing you knowing we never got the chance to get married.”
Frank looked at Gerard and Mikey then before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll move the wedding up on one condition.”
“Anything,” Siddalee replied.
“We keep it small. We go to a Justice of the Peace and save the big wedding complete with the white dress and everything we had planned for when I get home,” he said looking her dead in the eye. “And I willcome home.”
Siddalee nodded, wiping the few tears that had fallen from her cheeks. “I think that is more than fair. But so help you God, Frank Iero, if you don’t come home –”
“Don’t even talk like that,” he said firmly and Siddalee finally managed a smile.
She kissed him sweetly before turning back to her brothers.
“Have you told Hazel?” she asked Gerard.
“I haven’t,” Gerard replied. “We wanted to tell you first. I’ll be going to see her later. Probably after dinner, where we will have to tell mom and dad.”
“You haven’t told mom and dad yet?” Siddalee asked.
“Like we said, we wanted to tell you first,” Mikey replied. “We need you with us when we tell them, especially now that you can lift the mood with news of you and Frankie moving the wedding up.”
Siddalee nodded. “Fine. But I’ll come with you to tell Hazel as well. She may not handle it as well as I am.”
“Because you’re handling it so well,” Mikey remarked, earning a laugh from Gerard and Frank along with a glare from Siddalee.
*
After the emotional dinner with Donald and Donna Way the foursome made way for Hazel’s house. The walk was a short one and every single step was filled with tension and anticipation. Siddalee could tell Gerard was not looking forward to telling his girlfriend the upsetting news. After taking a deep breath Gerard raised his fist and knocked on the door.
Hazel’s mother answered and smiled when she saw who was waiting behind the door.
“Come in, come in,” she beamed. “Hazel is in the living room with her father. Was she expecting all of you tonight?”
“No,” Siddalee smiled. “It’s more of a surprise visit if that’s all right?”
“Of course it is!” Mrs. Williams replied as she lead them into the living room.
Hazel smiled at the sight of her boyfriend and her friends, getting up from her seat on the couch to hug them all hello.
“We need to talk,” Gerard whispered. “Preferably somewhere that’s not here.”
Hazel could hear the urgency in his voice and nodded before telling her parents that they would be going out to the backyard to enjoy the evening.
“Is everything okay?” Hazel asked once they were all outside and the back door was safely shut behind them.
Siddalee didn’t say a word, she just gave Frank’s hand a squeeze before standing next to Hazel and gripping her hand tightly. Hazel looked at her best friend confused before focusing her attention on Gerard. What came out of his mouth next was not something she would have ever expected.
“No,” she breathed out, her hand like a vice grip on Siddalee’s as she tried to comprehend what she was hearing. “You’re lying. This is some kind of practical joke.”
“It’s not, Hazel,” Gerard sighed, fighting off tears. “Believe me I wish it was.”
“Are you insane?” Hazel asked. “Going off to war?! You do know what’s going on over there don’t you?!”
“Of course I do,” Gerard protested. “But what can we do? Our country needs us!”
“We?” Hazel asked in shock. “All three of you are going?”
The three men nodded and Hazel turned her attention to Siddalee, her eyes wide. “And you’re okay with this?”
“Of course I’m not,” Siddalee said. “But what’s done is done and there’s nothing we can do. All we can do now is be strong for them and pray they all make it home.”
Hazel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “This isn’t happening.”
“It is,” Gerard sighed, taking a step toward his girlfriend.
Hazel tensed up momentarily before releasing Siddalee’s hand and taking a step back. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the words she was hearing, but when she opened her eyes again Gerard, Mikey, Frank and Siddalee were still standing there.
“No, Gerard,” Hazel said. “I refuse to believe this. I refuse to believe that you’re going to ship out and get yourself killed!”
“Have some faith in me, Haze!” Gerard said. “I’ll come back to you. I promise I will!”
“You can’t make promises like that!” Hazel protested, the tears she was holding back finally falling down her cheeks. “You don’t know what will happen over there!”
Gerard took a chance and took another step toward his girlfriend. When she didn’t retreat again he closed the gap between them he put his hands on her waist and pulled her close.
“You’re right,” he sighed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “I don’t know what will happen over there but I do know that I will fight like hell to get back to you and that has to count for something.”
Hazel leaned her head against Gerard’s chest and let out a deep sigh before looking up at him again. “You promise me you’ll come home?”
“I promise,” Gerard assured before kissing her soundly.
Once Gerard was sure that Hazel was okay Siddalee told her friend that her wedding had been moved up to the next week. Hazel smiled, hugging her friend tightly and congratulating her, knowing that her fiancé going off to war wasn’t the only reason for the sudden change of wedding plans. Hazel was excited for her friend, knowing that the marriage meant so much more than not being able to get married before Frank shipped off.
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GIVE ME ALL THE ANGST. THE ANGSTY MOST PAINFUL DARVEY ONESHOT YOU CAN. MAKE ME SOB. HAPPY ENDING NO HAPPY ENDING UP TO YOU. A N G S T. ANGST. angst.
It was finados last week which is what we call our day of the dead, I was melancholic so I wrote some separation angst but I don’t know if it reaches your desired levels of sad
plus, unrelated, but I advise all of you to listen to Sam Smith’s new album and like, suffer (Say It First is the new Darvey song)
Gap
It’s been a year but she picks up when he calls; because of the day,because she knows he needs her to.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
They let the static of poor reception fill the void of unspoken goodbyesfor minutes because there hasn’t been a word uttered between them in threehundred and fifty days. Neither are sure of the right thing to say when thelast things said were so tangled in barbed wire; instead, they breathe andneglect until she, like always, can’t stand his indecision.
“I wondered if you’d call,” Her voice is hoarse by lack of sleep andalcohol, and too sad, more than she’d meant to let on.
“You knew I would,” He counters, tired but clear.
Donna hadn’t anticipated being the one, much less the only one, buzzedfor this conversation, but it’s something like one in the morning and his voiceis re-breaking pieces of her and it’s so much easier to stand it with scotch.
“I did,” She whispers “But I wasn’t as sure after eleven.”
He silences on the edge of confession. She can sense the weight of itjust by knowing him, counts his breaths until the scale shifts whichever way.
“I was afraid of finding out you wouldn’t pick up,” He reveals, “Andyou’re slurring,” he adds a beat later to shield from too much truth.
Another day a year ago, maybe, she would have cared to second-guess andconfront, but now it’s all dull. If nothing sparks hope, there’s no point ingranting his words value.
“Dewar’s” She explains, “A quarter bottle.”
“Too sweet,’ Harvey complains, unfailingly.
She images his grimace, though time apart has wiped off clarity in thedetails, and snorts something like a laugh “You’re the only one who likesbitter things.”
Because of the scotch, she delays interpretation until his silencestretches to demand it, “Oh,” she startles, memory snapping back to one of theirlast fights You’ll die alone and bitterthinking everyone abandoned you when you’re the one who pushed them away “Ididn’t mean it that way,” she murmurs regretfully into the line.
He sighs, waits, backing away from the edge, “I know,” It hurts him morebecause he’s the one who stayed, even if it was all mostly his fault, “But…” but I still think you’ll be there when I getin after I have nightmares about the things we said, “But I wasunprepared.”
She nods, clears her throat “Did you visit her?”
That’s why he called after all, the anniversary of Lily’s death, or itwas until two hours ago.
“I tried.”
“And?”
“And then I took the train,” he tells her, and maybe she imagines theshame in his voice but it still catches her.
“It’s only been a year,” She softens, “I didn’t think you’d make itthere, but at least you wanted to.”
“I thought I’d forgiven her,” he whispers, “I thought we had workedthrough things.”
“You hadn’t had enough time together yet.”
“Because I wasted it,” he sounds defeated.
It chips away at her, how much she wants to comfort him, but they’re toofar apart in a million and a half ways and it would hurt too much to stretchthe distance, they’d rip before they made it.
“You were hurting,” Donna offers.
“I was being stubborn,” He argues and she smiles about the suddenaccuracy of his self-awareness, “Don’t feel too vindicated,” Harvey tells heron a hunch, “I’m still awesome.”
She rolls her eyes, “Sure.”
The banter heals and aches, its unfamiliarity paralyzes them. It’s notthe same to joke around on a battlefield surrounded by the smoking remains ofwhat they had, but it’s better than the full-fledged chaos of war. Better thancold stares, slaps and leaving without saying goodbye.
It’s also suddenly overwhelming the more they don’t speak.
“And how was it with your dad?” She blurts out to relieve the emotion ofit, to stop her eyes from welling up and spilling how much time she spentmissing him instead of moving on.
“I-” He starts confusedly, coming off the daze of their truce, “I talkedto him, like always, but,” He laughs, short and surprising but genuine “Iforgot the Macallan.”
She laughs too and remembering lets some tears slip past her guard“He’ll hold that against you.”
“I know,” He says, “But it wasn’t his day.”
“He never liked it when you showed up without at least a beer.”
“He’d probably prefer that. Sometimes I think he only drank scotch forme,” He jokes.
She bites her lip, recalling one of her conversations with Gordon“Actually…” she starts and stops, withholding suspense.
“What?” He demands, but it’s good-natured.
“He told me he thought scotch was for entitled suits withoutimagination; the more expensive the worse,” She reveals cheekily.
“No he didn’t,” Harvey whines.
She smiles, a few more drops rolling down her cheek with the relief oftalking without hating him “He did,” She confirms smugly then pauses, weightingon the mercy of explaining the full story. It seems to her like he deserves it,so she softens for the truth “He also said he loved you too much to not sharethe things you like.”
Takes a while for him to answer and she knows he’s smiling with theclear memory of Gordon’s voice “Cheesy,” He mocks.
“That’s your dad,” She says affectionately.
Harvey sighs, “He would be disappointed that I didn’t have the guts togo see her.”
Donna nods, disagreeing even though he can’t tell “He would never bedisappointed in you.”
“He would,” He declares, firmly and within the second, catching himself afterand hesitating until he collects the courage to out what’s on his mind, “Justmaybe not about this.”
Her veins chill with the imminence of what’s implied. It hovers heavilybetween them like charged storm clouds, begging to rain down their feelings andthunder their truths - a natural disaster, horrifying and inevitable.
“He would hate me for half the things I said to you,” He confesses, “Ido.”
And God, how it hurts; she doesn’t want to hear any of it “Please,don’t,” She whispers weakly, closing a fist until her nails dig into the palm.
“Donna,” He calls, it’s her name and it’s a prayer but she feels so muchless than divine.
She realizes he’s about to plead for forgiveness. It would be patheticif she didn’t want to concede immediately, “I didn’t pick up for this,” Somehowshe manages to sound cold instead of crumbling, another lie on top of everythingelse.
“Just let me-”
“No,” She cuts off, “We’ve hurt each other enough.”
“I won’t,” He promises desperately.
She might trust his word if she thought he knew what they meant.
“This isn’t where we patch things up,” She asserts, about to start chokingon sobs but too driven not to speak, “We kissed, we fought, then Lily died and noneof it mattered,” Her tears start falling in clusters, she breathes erraticallywith equal parts anger and sadness, “I was willing to forget, I would havestayed, Harvey, but you kissed me,” The absurdity heats and boils onher chest, the things he did with no intention of facing consequences, “And wecouldn’t even look at each other!”
“Donna-” He’s crying too and trying to hide it, she hears it in hisvoice; it shreds her to pieces.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” She says, forcing herself to simmer down.
It’s so frustrating the way they always do this, hurt each other whenthey know they only hurt together.
There are a lot of seconds where neither of them speak and she imaginesseveral outcomes, none of them good, until, finally, he clears his throat andshe’s sure he is about to break them forever, “The Yankees lost today, well, yesterday,” He says instead, almosthalfway stable.
She blinks, once, twice; stares at nothing trying to understand “What?”
“I’m just saying it was an all-around shitty day,” Harvey soundsuncertain but somehow still determined, “It was a close call, I don’t know ifthat makes it better or worse.”
“What are you talking about?” She asks, frowning.
“I’m not talking about it,” Heanswers pointedly, “And they lost to the Red Sox, that’s twice as bad.”
He is giving up absolution to keep her on the line.
“Harvey…” She whispers.
“Just don’t hang up;” He begs, lost and drowning, “A year is a reallylong time.”
And it is. His despair wakes hers and suddenly Donna wants to tell himeverything; every joke, event, new friend and client, all the things about herlife he missed because they were too proud and wounded to reach out. She evenwants to say how much she missed the most detailed and insignificant aspects ofhaving him around, but it’s too much, it crumbles under its own weight. Insteadshe corrects him “Hasn’t been a year yet.”
He snorts a humorless laugh, “It was too long after a day.”
Maybe this means she’s feeble but… it melts everything; the time apart,the months leading up to it, the fights, the sharp words. She’s trying to holdon to his mistakes, to remember the reasons why she left, but they slip andfall and shatter and she doesn’t reach to save them.
“It was too long after a day,” She echoes, tears resuming, “I…” Shedrifts, afraid of being the one to put her heart on the line first yet again.
He spares her the decision, “I missed you too.”
They start to mend.
#darvey#suits usa#donna x harvey#darvey fic#suitsedit#author: maria#rated k#angst#dewar's is a honey scotch#i had to research this#the first part is better cause i wrote it on inspiration and i was truly melancholic#it just got cheesy and less structured towards the end but i wanted it over with
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Journal 1
This year has seen the realisation of a number of pieces of research which have illuminated this practice of “play in horrific wastelands” as the subject of inquiry, as well as the “play in horrific wastelands that is the phd research process itself”. These research elements are as follows:
In April 2017 I delivered a paper at the Northumbria PGR Conference entitled “The Inhuman Ecstasy of Toxic Waste” (TIETW). This paper took the form of a video hosted on Youtube, in front of which I read a “script”. YouTube hosting allowed the use of the sites annotation system, clickable icons overlaying the video which can link outside of it to other content. The video a layering of original animations and sampled sections of films which form a gesturing figure over an ambient soundtrack, while the video lasts the duration it takes to read the script. In its intended state TIETW exists on Youtube, it uses the annotation system to present tangents from the main text, which is available to read by the viewer in the form a of a link to a Google Doc, where it can also be annotated by anyone.
TIETW is concerned with the late 80s/90s pop culture trope of a toxic waste spill which results in mutation of a person or animal. Frequently, especially in horror movies at this time the mutations occupy a space of both gift and curse, as well as having sexual, and particularly queer context. The importance of this work to the PhD is primarily the realisation made through it that “waste” is what marks the play space which I had previously thought of as “horror”. Waste can, and often is, the subject of horror. It is also politicised, abject, or mucosal. What is more potent for my research is that waste is, to the force that perceives it as waste, valueless. However when viewed from another position it is the site of production.
The concept of waste is being broken down further through two terms which I am using to mark some of its properties. The first of these is “Black Hole” which refers to something ignored or refused to the extent that even its absence is not acknowledged. An article by blogger Timothy Franklin on queerness in the popular wargaming franchise of Warhammer 40,000 points out that, “The inability to express sexual reality creates a gap into which queer sexualities can creep, and the bigger the gap the queerer a reader, fan theorist or slash/fic author can be without doing violence to the fiction. Hetero-normativity fails to assert itself” (Franklin, 2017). This concept of a Black Hole, an unacknowledged but fertile gap, represents a refinement of my initial research proposal’s focus on cultural activity which is at odds with Majoritarian culture, and therefore challenges the seemingly impenetrable surface of “Capitalist Realism” (Fisher, 2009).
The second term that my research is focusing on is “Tentacles”. This term is borrowed the recent book by Donna J Haraway “Staying With the Trouble: Making Kin in the Cthulucene” (Haraway, 2016). In this book Haraway uses the the image of the tentacle as something which connects multiple points through touch. Crucially this touch is multilateral, we receive sense data as we deliver force, as well as potentially a change of temperature, moisture and so on. The introduction of the tentacular to my research again represents a refinement from the broader concepts of Deleuze and Guattari’s “machinic assemblages” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1983). Tentacles are a way in which I am at present attempting to understand elements of my practice, particularly the moment of encounter with an exterior audience/witness/collaborator. In TIETW there are a number of tentacular elements. Firstly, the method of delivery has a number of calls for engagement. The presentation video that I speak in front of, is streamed from the video hosting platform YouTube. YouTube by default allows public comments under any video hosted unless they are disabled. The platform encourages not just the receiving of content but contribution to it. This is also shown in the culture of “response videos” where a person will record their own material, frequently a straight to camera monologue which transforms the original video into a conversation. YouTube is in part about user-made content, but the potential to respond in the comments or to link a video of one’s own makes it a system that encourages tentacles due to the lack of separation and distinctions of authority. YouTube also feels public, by screening my video from this platform in a lecture theatre, rather that playing a local file on my computer to that audience only it felt like I was opening a space to more contamination. YouTube has markers of its own branding which remind you of where this video is being played from. One of the other reasons for using that particular platform was its options of using its “annotation system”. This system allows a user to place shapes and text over the top of a video they have uploaded, which can be used to accentuate the content of their video with interactive links. The annotation system meant I could at hyperlinks to other videos and websites which would appear at set times in the video, and therefor my presentation’s duration. These annotations act like thought balloons above my head, speaking things that I myself do not say, but which discuss another layer of the presentation. What most attracted me to the use of this system was firstly that they offer a non-linear way of encountering video. By clicking an annotation, you leave the fixed duration of the video, possibly to start another video at a specified time-point and then on to another and another never playing any to completion. Secondly, and more importantly, these annotations are not accessible fully to the live audience at the PGR conference. Rather than the assumed superiority of the live experience, I wanted to the audience for the work to marked as the “anyone” that could watch it on YouTube. I wanted the live experience to point to this other space through lack. This presents a call for another tentacular action, for the audience at the PGR Conference to find the video in order to follow these paths outward.
Another tentacular element that is present in this work is through signifying a refusal of the full authority of the performer, through the manner of their performance. I want the presentation to be welcoming by refusing to use the power of authority normally present in an academic presentation. I am introduced, and I make a point of smiling. I then start the video, but actually I don’t, I stop, I pull out my phone and half explaining to the audience half apologising I say “I’m streaming this over Facebook, just give me a second to set it up”. I balance the phone on the table in front of me and again move to start the video. I pause again while doing this, explain about the annotation system being the main reason I wanted to use YouTube. I explain that the annotation system is being discontinued out next week. Not enough people were using it, so soon you won’t be able to use it and videos won’t be able have clickable links over the top of their content, though the ones done before it is discontinued will remain. I try and convey how excited I am about this, though recognise that it possibly isn’t exciting for everyone. This could be a little embarrassing, as who else cares about the developments of minutiae in a internet video hosting platform? This is the point though, I want to be a little embarrassed, I want to overshare, and be vulnerable. This is another tentacle.
18. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXrQ_YJ2444
19. This strain of popular culture arguable traces its roots back to post-war nuclear fear. The same year that the first nuclear power plant came online, Gordon Douglas’s Them! (Douglas, 1954) arrived, combining the established genre of giant beast films epitomised by King Kong (Cooper & Schoedsack, 1933) with concerns about nuclear power. In contrast to the Japanese kaijū films like Godzilla (Honda, 1954) where an already present monster is disturbed by nuclear weapons testing, the ants of Them! are theorised to have grown to giant size as a side effect of similar tests. Later films in this theme will see monsters created from bio-weapons (The Crazies (Romero, 1973), The Return of The Living Dead (O’Bannon, 1985)), the poor disposal of growth hormone filled rats (Alligator (Teague, 1980)), nonspecific toxic waste (C.H.U.D. (Cheek, 1984), The Toxic Avenger (Herz & Kaufman, 1986), Slugs: The Movie (Simón, 1988)), and contaminated alcohol (Street Trash (Muro, 1987). Although outside the scope of this research, it is worth noting that the conservative message in the majority of such films is that a lack of regulation will result in the chaotic unbalancing of both society as it is structured at present, and the laws of nature as they are presently understood.
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