#anyway can't wait for this film to consume me!

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Just a couple observations after I watched the film for the third time (help I can't stop 😭😭),

He definitely looks at her when she says he's covered in vibranium

He's down bad from then on

In the very last scene in the Talokan journey, I see him reach for her hand

He listens to her and tries to reason with her, which I haven't seen him do with anyone else before.

He never reasons with Ramonda. When she asks him what she could give him in exchange for Shuri, he says 'Nothing' with a damn smile.

He tells Ramonda that he'll kill Shuri if his request isn't met, but he says it in the most unconvincing manner possible, this man who dressed her up with the finest clothes is not going to do that when he had so many opportunities to do so before.

He jives his spear into the hull of the ship when he could have easily killed her there, it's like he didn't want her to interfere.

He's reevaluating his choices as he sees her break when Ramonda dies, but true to his character being 'a kid without love' he moves on in the way he knows, by following duty.

He's stroking the little sea shell telephone before their war like a miserable longing ex boyfriend 🤣 was he waiting for her to ring him up and call it off?

He looks up at her when she leads the ship and then reluctantly starts fighting?

He's alone in the ship with her and he's probably thinking things were about to go differently.

"It could have been different", is etched in my mind the way he says it.

The score "Con la brisa", "it could have been different" and "Vengeance has consumed us" are for scenes with only Namor and Shuri. Tell me why its like it has been taken out of an enemies to lovers booktok playlist? (LUDWIG does his research impeccably well, I will trust this man's music like it's the absolute truth, the strings in that section is romantic)

Also in Shuri's recollection of events, she sees Namor smiling. You don't think of your villains like that.

He yields. And yes people may think he's waiting to exact his revenge but I interpret that scene as someone having met their equal.

He goes home to heal him self, draw fan art of him and Shuri and then fangirl about the black panther. His cousin's like bruh what are you on about.

Sidenote: when books exist with vampires, faes, elves, Greek gods, other immortal beings and Game of thrones couples, Shuri is an adult in the movie. The age gap doesn't matter in a fictional world but, Shuri's got it under control guys.

So anyway, I love this man

#shuri x namor #tenoch huerta namor #namor #mcu namor #shuri black panther #shuri #namor x shuri

[mymarsmoonandstars]

It's been a week since I saw Wakanda Forever, and ever since, it's consumed my thinking. There are a million things I'd love to discuss about the film, but what keeps me up at night is Shuri and Namor.

Shuri had every right to gut his ass. Namor brought flooding and destruction to her home, killed her mother, all while knowing she was suffering from the death of her brother. Hell, Namor nearly killed her (by impaling her, which how did she survive that idk, anyway). And what was the worst thing that Shuri had done to him? Say no to his alliance to go to war with the surface world? Shuri wasn't the one who killed Namor's two subjects. She actually tried to save them. Yet just like T'Challa, she's forced to deal with the consequences of other people's actions, and when she stands over Namor with a blade to his neck, her internal struggle with this flashes across screen. It's a powerful sequence, but the one that captures me the most is when we hear her mother telling her to show Namor who she is. Not only is it one of many callbacks to the first film, but really, who is she? Who is Shuri? She is struggling with her identity, as grief often does to a person.

When audiences first met Shuri, she was the genius younger sister, the comic relief, who took solace in her lab. But now all this has been taken from her, and taken so suddenly. She's now front and center, now her country's most powerful figure, no longer the jokester, no longer a sister, no longer a daughter, and feels like a failure. The moments where she stands over Namor is us watching her return to herself but also become someone entirely new. She sees the destruction reverse. Sees Namor's hope. Sees their mothers and their nations. She understands that they are similar just as much as they are different. She finally realizes that ending Namor's life cannot reverse the destruction nor her pain, but sparing him is the answer to ending the cycle of it. She recognizes that even though her mother and brother are gone, she is still sister, still daughter. Death in Wakanda is a beginning.

Above all, Shuri understands she cannot think of only herself anymore. She cannot push her people to war because of her own grief and vengefulness. She becomes a leader, in granting mercy. A protector.  And extends this protection by offering it to Namor and his people. This brought a bitter taste in my mouth at first, but it isn't about who's right or wrong, especially when both sides have a little right or a little wrong to them. It's about navigating the actions of their forebearers in the best way they can.

Her multifaceted character is symbolized by her panther suit--it's reminiscent of T'Challa, Kilmonger, and her past self. Now that she's burned her mourning clothes, hopefully in the next movie, we'll see her accept this role with newfound confidence and surity of its purpose. I'm also hoping that Shuri kept Namor's little baby ankle wing that she sliced off and puts it up somewhere to serve as a reminder that she bested him. Can you imagine? I can't wait to see more of her.

Then there's Namor. And dare I say it, he was justified in his feelings of wanting to kill Queen Ramonda. She was cunning and tricked him and had two of his people killed in the process. Remember the scene where he's cradling his subject's face as she dies? And she asks if he can save her and he does not answer because he knows he cannot? And then--was it Namora?--who says, with such blame dripping in her voice, that he was busy meeting with the queen during Nakia's attack. Namor is so angry, and very possibly, so ashamed (and scared?). His ultimate goal is to protect his people, and he failed. He's a god and Ramonda made him look like a fool. To him, she had to go.

Ryan Coogler said that despite Namor being about 500 years old, he wanted him to still feel somewhat childlike. And is he! He's rash. He focuses only on the immediate response without thinking of the ramifications. He seems almost charmingly innocent in his hopefulness that Shuri would want to join him. There's no doubt they wanted us to feel a romantic connection betweeen them, or perhaps just from Namor's end. I don't know who gives clearance on the music, but whoever does, they are always very intentional and unique about it, and a love song plays during That One Mesmerizing Scene. The theories that Namor is infatuated with Shuri just weaken me. She's the first person to ever see Talocan. The bracelet. The mural. Him acknowdging her power. Him waiting for her to beckon him. I. have. folded. No one look at me.

I really hope the MCU explores their relationship. And though I'm sure it would never be a romantic one, that does not make it any less intriguing. Ryan is phenomenal with his villains. Just like Kilmonger challenged T'Challa not just with war, but challenged his core beliefs, Namor did the same with Shuri. The only difference now is that Namor is still alive, and this sets us up for a delicious exploration of a complex relationship between two leaders who have similar wants but conflicting perspectives.

Man. I love them. MCU, please let us see more of them. And if we do, please. Be careful with them.

#and the fact that this is between a black woman and brown man like PLEASE #seeing black women in multilayered relationships is something I did not know I starved for until now #shuri #namor #wakanda forever #shuri x namor #anyway let me talk next about how killing queen ramonda was a thematic mistake! #wakanda forever spoilers #black panther #black panther spoilers #wakanda forever meta

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for going to see horror films behind my mother's back?

I (15F, Autistic) have been fifteen since March, but I've only just started realising what that means in October. A lot of content I previously couldn't consume because of my age is now consumable, and I've started branching out, and being less bored because I get to read and watch new things.

I've never delved deep into horror. I know about slasher lore, but only through Tumblr, Dead Meat kill counts and pop culture references, though I think I'm still pretty smart by all means. While strolling through Netflix, I saw Freddy vs Jason, rated M15 and wanted to watch it because Freddy has always been my favourite (alongside Pinhead, but I know I wouldn't be able to stomach the gore). My mum, sitting right next to me, told me absolutely not. I've already watched both of the Dead Meat summaries of it, and nothing triggered me, and you can't really be hyper empathetic to characters who exist to be canon fodder. So, when it was nighttime, I got on my IPad and watched it for myself. I could easily tap out because of it being an IPad, and I thoroughly enjoyed the film.

Now that FNAF is out to theatres, I asked my Dad if we could go see it. My mum, sitting right next to my dad, said no. I've enjoyed FNAF lore thoroughly and the film looks good, but mum wouldn't allow me to see it. So, if I can't get my dad to bring me, I'll try and watch it anyway via Netflix or some sketchy site or whatever, which I think is piracy, but we all love pissing on corporate here, so,,,,

I feel horrible for going against my mother's back twice, and I know a theatre is less easy to exit then watching it on an IPad, but I'm fifteen now, both movies were rated M to M15 and she's the only one prohibiting me to see it. I don't have friends, much less friends that drive, so unless dad's more lenient, I'll have to wait for who knows how long until I can see it. Still, I feel like after everything my mother has done for me, I can't go behind her back and watch another horror film.

TLDR: AITA for seeing a M15 horror film behind my mother's back and wanting to see another horror film in theatres she's disapproved of, when I'm 15??

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[kanmom51]

SEVEN

So there is something I only realised this morning.

I can't believe I didn't see it before, but then I was so used to how things were done so far that it totally slipped by me.

The release times.

They are all US ET.

Not KST.

How I didn't notice this before is beyond me (given there were literally 2 posters, one in English and one in Korean, but my brain was living on past experience).

My brain was on automat, cause since when do BH release songs with US ET detailed schedules? ONLY ET schedule?????

It's like even in the schedule poster they are disconnecting JK from the Korean music scene. This isn't a K-pop song with a KST release time. Not for those that see the poster in English. They separated them. One for the Korean consumer, one for the American (I'm getting there, bare with me).

And once I digested that piece of information I knew that what I was thinking all along is a given.

JK is a big part of BPD's end game. This, Seven, it's part of BPD's end game.

It's a song in English. Created for the US market, the American consumer.

It's going to be flogged, well it is already, like no other BTS or BTS member song has been before it.

That MV, it's going to be big. Production big.

A lot of thought and planning has been put into this.

They are throwing it all at this song.

And the way I see it, this will also be the first song to be played on the radio. I really believe we are going to be getting Seven played on the radio. Like A LOT. Like lots of money changing hands to make it happen A LOT. Like lots of but kissing to make it happen A LOT.

Because BPD wants Korean artists and Kpop to reach the next level. Which is not only fan acknowledgement. He wants them to acknowledged as artists, just like any other artist who releases music in the States. He wants the stupid ass stigma that stuck to K-pop erased. He wants in. And Seven is the start of it.

They always had their eyes set on JK.

That is one of the reasons they were unprepared for JM and his success hit them right in the Face. Literally. They underestimated JM's power. They didn't know what to do with it. In a way, didn't want it. It wasn't part of the big plan. JK is.

And now thinking back to Qatar - I can't help but wonder, was it the organizers request only for JK or was it what Hybe wanted?

And that's a hell of a lot to put on JK's shoulders.

I do hope that this works. Not for Hybe's sake, nor BPDs. I want JK to do well. I want this for him, assuming this is what he wants too.

Look, everything I'm writing here can be a big pile of bull crap.

I could be proven totally wrong. No radio play, no big push, no big production. But wait. I think it's safe to say that the MV was a big production (flying out a well known Korean actress to LA to film, and what is with the Recording film?). Oh, and since when did we ever get posters all over the world for a single? I kind of think I'm on the right path here...

Anyway, if I'm wrong I'll own it. But I really do think this is part of the big plan. And my question is what's next?

Well, truthfully that's just one question. And I for one have plenty more. That have to do with JK and what he wants and what it means... for him and for JM and for them as a couple.

#Jungkook #JK #JK Seven

[sunshinekindof]

Fluff with Timothee Chalamet

Sorry, english is my second language

It was Sunday. You were lying on the couch with your boyfriend Timothee. It was a day off for him, but Timothee decided to check his work email anyway. Oh yes. And you have an injured arm. A couple of days ago, you fell and hurt your arm and a couple of bruises all over your body. Which sucks for a lot of reasons. First of all, your arm obviously was in pain. But, fortunately, painkillers saved you. Secondly, and in your humble opinion, this is the most important part - now Timothee practically refused to touch you, afraid of hurting you. He was constantly next to you, fulfilling your every desire (or almost any). Are you hungry? He will immediately sentence you to your beloved. Wanted to drink? You just need to tell your boy about it. Uncomfortable pillow? He will immediately bring you another one. But he refused to touch you, like really touch you. All you've gotten in the last week is a light kiss on the lips. And every minute it annoyed you more and more, because you missed your man. Which is why you're sitting here now and pouting at him after his  another "no". You knew it was stupid, but you still couldn't do anything about it.

- Baby, stop it. You know why I said no. You know how hard it is for me to say no to you,-  Timothee said softly.

You did not answer, took your phone in your hands and began to view stories on Instagram.

- My love ... - Timothee called you again, but you only muttered something indistinct in response. You missed his touch, real touch. While you tried to act like you were ignoring Timmy, you didn't notice movement next to you. Timothee quickly, but carefully, so as not to hurt you, got up from the sofa and knelt down in front of you. He gently took the phone from your hands, put it aside and looked into your eyes. In his eyes you saw all his love for you and tenderness, so your eyes began to fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid, I just miss you," you whispered and lowered your eyes. Timothee gently put his hand on your cheek and began to gently run his thumb over your face, removing a tear that had rolled down.

- And you will soon be leaving for the shooting of a new film, and I will not be with you, and we will not see each other for so long ..., - you began to mutter, but Timothee gently pressed his lips to yours, silencing you. He kissed you slowly, savoring every moment of the kiss. You kissed him back, hugging him tighter. Your fingers of your not wounded hand immediately found his hair, and you lightly pulled on it. Timothy groaned and opened his mouth, which you took advantage of and deepened the kiss. The fire inside you flared up more and more, and you were afraid that Timothee would stop the kiss, but he was also consumed by you, as you were by him. Then Timothee pulled you closer to him and touched your injured arm. You couldn't help a groan of sudden pain, and Timothy jerked away from you.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ... - he quickly began to tell you. Passion after the kiss, fear for you and anger at himself splashed in his eyes at the same time.

- No, everything is fine, I`m o... - you started, but he did not let you finish.

- Don't tell me everything's fine. Exactly what I was afraid happened. I couldn't control myself and hurt you, - he said angrily, - and I can't live if I hurt you.

You couldn't see him angry anymore and lowered your eyes again.

- Hey, - Timothee said again and gently lifted your face by the chin, looking into your eyes, - I love you so much. And I also want you madly, every minute. Do not doubt it. We just need to wait a bit, okay? Until you get better.

He kissed you gently on the forehead. Then you felt his lips gently squeeze your earlobe and goosebumps ran through your body.

 And then, when you feel better, - he whispered passionately in your ear, - I will not let you out of our bed for a week. I will kiss every inch of your body. I will make you moan and scream my name until you start begging me to stop.

- Promise? you asked coyly. The thought itself made your blood boil in your veins.

“I promise,” he said and kissed my temple, “now tell me what do you want to eat for dinner?”

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine

[aetherin21]

An Image of my last spring

Pairing: Getou Suguru x Reader

Genre: Angst with comfort, small fluff

Notes: Reader is a sorcerer turned office worker just like Nanami :) if I ever see mistakes here I'll change and fix it in my Ao3. This has been in my drafts for like 3 weeks I think and I just wanna post it now before I forget hahaha also this is inspired by Dr. Park's words of Suguru being Satoru's last spring of youth and the Promotional art of the Season 2 of JJK :)

5:35 PM

February 3, 2017

Shibuya Station

Soulless is the sound of steady tapping that echoes through the air while the floor gently vibrates to where I currently stood. Its constant rhythm encloses the area in its own little bubble, creating an ecosystem far beyond any person's reach. 

At the corner of my eye, I could see the sight of rushing bodies reaching the depths of where I hid as I waited patiently for my train to arrive. Like a glorified aquarium, splashes of muddy white, blues, browns and black mixes in with the current school of people. It's not hard to miss their colorful forms as they slowly turn into a raging tide of their own. Their gradual awakening signals the beginning of the evening rush hour. And soon, without a doubt I'll be caught by that wave of meat.

With that thought, being unable to escape from its nauseating grip could make me kneel and pray to no one in particular. Dragging my vessel to its epicenter, fully engulfed by the unpleasant sensation of rubbing flesh and hot breath fanning through the tiny bumps of exposed skin; consumed by its awful flow. It's much easier to swallow the idea of being executed in a horrific fashion than to be judged by their so-called righteous mallet and scornful eyes. Forever condemned by its world court and abandoned with no other island besides my own. Is what I initially thought anyway.

"Maybe I should have done some overtime again…" I mumble to myself.

Deciding to Ignore the countdown of my impending doom, I exhaled the bitterness within me. Fiddling at the small screen I held. Distracting myself had become a ritual of mine, a sort of coping habit that developed through the decade that was so unkind. Letting myself submerge to another aether, not allowing a single thought or emotion leak through the cracks of my stone shell. Pumping the veins etched in me with calm adrenaline as if I am in a state of a passing nirvana.

Funnily enough, it reminds me of that film Rocky. Particularly that famous scene where the protagonist trained intensely while the song 'Eye Of The Tiger' plays in the background. Capturing the essence of his perseverance, strength and hardwork. Just like him, I'll be entering my own very montage except the loud music blasting through my ears will astral project my soul to another dimension as my body turns into a human sandwich. Very dramatic. I know but I would rather meet my end in style than to... Huh — Weird. That last line sounds awfully too familiar. Ringing unusual bells in the depths of my mind. 

Did I used to say that? It feels out of character. Out of place. It's too cool and somewhat edgy for someone like me to say. Yet it tasted a little foreign and familiar at the same time. Scratching my chin in place of a brain, I could only conclude I might have gotten it from someone else. But where exactly?

Think, think, think…It can't be from my coworkers nor from my family. They're all too normal and boring to say something like that. I don't have many friends to begin with either so that’s out of the question. 

With how tingly my tongue is, the answer seems to be at the edge already. Maybe it came from an action movie that I had watched before? It is rather cliche in format.  If I repeat it, will it come out? 

To meet my end in style. To meet my end in style. To meet my end in — 

Chanting it like a spell, I summoned what lies beyond those lines. But all too quickly, the grinning image of a boy flashed before my eyes. Both falling and burning way too fast as it reached the ends of my fingertips. Only its ashes remain before I could even hold it in the palm of my hands.

The lighthouse that often watches over me, sensed my growing sorrow within. Casting a stream of yellows beyond the horizon, it guides my sight towards the answers I seek. I remember where that line came from. 

Satoru, the annoying gigantic furby, used to play good cop and bad cop with another boy his size. Both of them were enamored by western films they constantly watch a lot. Sometimes they would often repeat every written dialogue like some new gag. Meticulously pushing every button they can to see what tickles our funny bones. It was annoying to deal with but also endearing nonetheless.

How could I forget something like that?

Looking at the station clock, its hands seemed to move painfully slow. Taking lifetimes to reach the five thirty-eight mark. On the other hand, the esteemed crowd from earlier had displaced themselves where they were supposed to be. Leaving me lost and jaded at a memory that had long since faded. 

Truthfully, I no longer have the courage and strength to pick every bit and piece that used to be a part of me. I let it all wash away from the lonely shore and let it erase what used to be who I am. Yet from time to time, a photo would emerge and greet me as I stood in the infinite sands alone. Images of old crammy classrooms, buildings and statues mock me in silence as I had forgotten everything. Only to remind me once again of what I used to cherish and the foolish thinking of everything lasting forever. That and also the free rides the assigned windows give.

Now, it makes me wonder if it was ever like that to that estranged boy in those photographs? The commute, I mean. I am curious to know; Was he able to dodge the mangy currents of limbs easily? His height seems to suggest so. Towering so much at such a young age. It gives this sense that he was unreachable, untouchable and unattainable especially to someone like me. The aura he gives off as he perches above exudes mystery, intimidation and a strange selfish holiness. I imagine being that tall has a lot of privileges. To be able to see the world that no mortal could have. Or just easily avoid any unwanted circumstance if he wished to. It's unfair, really. Both him and Satoru. 

But God does not play favorites. In some way or another, in any shape or form it will come for you. To balance the rules of this reality, judgment will strike at any possibility. Cutting down both the fair and the unfair, continuously hunting down anyone it deems to be worthy of such. From the station platform where I stood to the streets of Shibuya, the supermarkets from the residential district and any place it wishes; there was no way to hide from it. Just like the sea of meat that ogles its new victim. But I guess he already knew that. Right?

Ah, since we're on that topic. What kind of sandwich would everyone be anyway? I just think it's funny since I am going to be one in a few minutes. I think, for one, I am probably like those cheap konbini ones that sometimes dupe you with no filling. Leaving you disappointed as you take your first and last bite. Why that of all things? Guess I am too small to even fill up the space, too insignificant but still ends up getting squished by the bread. 

Shoko would probably be like those freshly homemade ones. The type that rejuvenates the soul as they take a mouthful. The feeling of home that dawns on the crevice of their bones while gnawing on the crunchy lettuce and juicy tomatoes. And once the last bite takes place a sudden realization of life struck. They jolt back from their wake and once again walk to another reprieve. Ah, I miss her. I wonder if she still has that bad habit of smoking.

Satoru, on the other hand, would be those luxury ones that cost a fortune but leave you with a thought, 'That's it?' A wasteful value or some popular commodity that's hard to reach. Beautiful, intricate and praised all while the dreaded guilt binds the person in an awkward greed as they throw money away for just a simple taste. Sprinkle in gold and baby blue, they'll feel they mattered. Even though it's just a sandwich. Although, to carry such high prestige, one could only be proud for there is no replica that can copy such material. Thus becoming the greatest snack of all. I can't believe this guy is the same age as me. 

But the question is, what about him? The dark haired boy that lingers behind the shadow of the one and only Gojo Satoru. 

I suppose with his size and sense of morals, he would be one of those premium fast food chicken sandwiches. Where the bun can't hold him in place cause all the limbs will spill out from the sides along with its special sauce, creating such a goopy mess on your hands as you eat. But due to being the cheaper alternative than Satoru, hands are more eager to devour what it has to offer. Blinding and burning everyone who tasted his tender meat. Along with myself. Ha! It suits that boy, right? Right…

Giggling to myself, these silly little ideas brought genuine joy to my lips. The foreign warmth that spreads through my cheeks as my eyes form into crescent moons. I can't help but think, how long has it been?

Too busy investing in drawing crude pictures of human comparison to wheat delicacies, I had failed to notice the shadow of the looming casket over my very being. The cries of its brakes scratching at the conch of my ear ripped me from la la land all too suddenly. As if it was demanding my attention like a dog and their favorite toy. Except, instead of such an adorable view, it's replaced by a pristine, well kept wagon that regurgitates passengers from its belly. Of course, everyone around me had waited in anticipation for this moment. Too eager to leave this dreadful place and confine themselves in the better space of their home. Except for me.

With the same sentiment, I too readied myself as the last person left the metal doors. Lowering my gaze and refusing to meet any watchful eyes, I let my legs move in autopilot. After all, the thing that I have dreaded since the very beginning is coming to a climax. I could only pretend to be a criminal waiting for the noose and prostrating myself to an ever exaggerated ruin. But amidst such a forlorn play, a scent had caught my foot mid step. 

Candies, cigarettes, incense, and sandalwood. 

Such an odd combination painted the air like a wretched canvas and brought cold sweat onto my skin. The colors of red, blue, violet and yellow blurs around my vision while accompanied by a distinct joyous laughter, seemingly mocking me in my wake. The faint words of goodbyes and farewells also catches my attention as I suffer from gut retching nauseousness. 

As if I knew whose voices they were.

I covered my face with my own two hands as a hint of bile threatened the edge of my throat. Knocking me into a hunching posture, heaving in sudden agony. The raunchy taste of sharp yet tangy acid covered my palette in a short amount of time that it had me in tears. It did not help that I could feel onlookers watch with both worry and annoyance at my blocking form towards their so-called freedom. 

Forced to wave a feign OK, I unwillingly apologized for the mishap I had caused and stepped away momentarily from the line. Letting myself recuperate and expel the visceral sensation from my body with much cleaner air. Although, I can’t help a part of me be annoyed as well. Does this person not have etiquette at all?

Bugged by my consciousness, unable to let it go. I searched for the origin of such a revolting smell. Looking left to right not moving from my spot. Hoping to give a piece of my mind to their disturbing work of art. An artwork that for some reason I couldn't help but chase in strange yearning. But of course, with my luck, there was no one attached to its disembodied stench. The culprit had already fled the scene of the crime. Leaving me, the victim, vexed and perplexed. 

But based on the contents of the stupid fragrance, that person probably had an ingenious idea to spray such a strong perfume to get rid of the cigarette and incense attached to their person. Still, regardless of reason, my head lingers in the direction to wherever it may have come from. Even foolishly imprinting it in my lungs like a masochist. After all, it's absurd for that boy to — 

“Be here with you?” 

April fools is still two months from now. I am not sure if I know anyone who celebrates such a childish event other than Satoru. I doubt he’ll come for me in advance either. Our relationship hasn't been the best in these god awful years. The last notable conversation we both had was around December.

Surely this is just a small bout of insanity. A figment of my wild imagination conjured from my exhaustion. After all, weeks of overtime can do wonders to the brain. It explains my sudden obsession with sandwich analogies and weird feelings of extreme melancholy. Or…Wait. Don’t tell me the strange smell came from a curse? Was I afflicted by it? 

The more the people, the more negative emotions spill out. This platform is a perfect den to give birth to such abominable creatures. Especially with the amount of impoverished salarymen and women who often take this train, spilling their unwanted frustration and bitterness onto the floor tiles. That must be it. 

Confronting the glass window of the train, I braced myself for the sudden encounter. Clutching my sling bag close, a small cursed tool can be found deep in its pockets. Carefully tucked away for emergencies just like this. 

Thankfully, it's been drilled into my subconsciousness on procedures regarding random contacts: First, always confirm the target. Second, never forget to put a curtain. Third, exorcise it with caution. If worse comes to show, then there's the fourth option, run away and call for the real professionals. Whatever this creature is, even at my grade, I can handle it. Is what I believe.

Yet, it seems nothing can prepare me for the familiar silhouette staring back at me. 

Slightly obscured by the reflection of sandwiched passengers, there he stood in his full glory. Hair tied up in a neat knot with only a few stubborn clumps falling above his eyes. Ears pierced by deep black gems that glimmer under the artificial lights. Soft lips, ever so curtly forming into a thin smile as his obsidian eyes contorted into a tender gaze. Seemingly admiring the reflection of the both of us finally beside each other. He didn’t change at all. Still the same as I remembered.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?”

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

I knew from the bottom of my heart that this isn’t an amalgamation of people’s negative emotions. As foolish as it sounds even with Ms. Tsukumo’s explanation about curses and sorcerers, I knew with one look this is mine. I am cursed and this is my haunted house. Because here you are with me. Alone. Together on this platform, purposely making me miss my train home. 

“You never said goodbye.” 

Humming a low playful tune, he linked his slender finger gently with the small of mine as the subtle wind blew over us. Just with that small gesture, the orchestra nestled within me didn’t know what sheet to read. Too confused about what to play in front of its single audience. So Instead, to appease the lone watcher, it chooses to perform all of it at once. Anger, joy, sadness and everything in between. What a laughable performance. 

“I guess, I owe you an overdue apology.”

The drumstick hits the surface harder than it should, resonating through every crevice of my flesh with a loud bang. My head sharply turned to his direction, controlled by the awful strike. His nonchalant and unremorseful response baffled my consciousness. “Guess!? Am I a joke to you? Is that the only reason why you’re here? To give me pity?” 

Ten years, that’s how long since I’ve last seen his face. And all he could do is mock me with his boyish smile while giggling at my sudden outburst. How cruel can he be?

Filled with distrust, my body flinched as I watched his hand delicately tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. His eyes still filled with never ending adoration even as my body betrayed him. “So this is what you look like after ten years.” he said as he now traced my cheek, holding me in the palm of his hand as if time never separated us. "You haven't changed at all. Still very pretty." 

I hate this. I hate the feeling of such soft bass melting my skin into nothing but putty. Smoothing the creases of my face as I plead for more. How even such a simple yet cliche string of words dulls my senses and becomes high just from its mere echoes. Furious, I wish I could be at this moment but furious I was not. “You're insufferable, you know that?”

Chasing foolishly his warmth, my head leaned into his touch. Too starved from his affection. All while the course of the symphony in my heart changes its tune to match the sudden drops of tears from my very own lashes. "And I hate you." I said to him bitterly. 

Unfazed by those petty words, he only laughed again but this time more softly. “I know and you still love me for it.” 

With a small step, the boy hovered his immense stature over me with ease. Casting a long shadow on my form as if it was a cage I can’t escape from. I already know what he’s about to do so I only stood patiently like a good girl, ready for him to consume. 

“I miss you.” He prayed on my forehead. “I really miss you.” He whispered next, on top of my nose. “I really did.” He continued to edge at the corner of my lips, drinking my silent cries away. “And I still do now.” He said as he finally took my lips with his own. 

There we mended and molded back to each other's heated embrace. Hands desperately closing the space till there was none as we spoke in a language we both knew how to communicate.

Ever so gentle that he is, his tongue asks for my permission as we move further than just a simple dance of mouth. The wet sensation that swipes at the entrance had me reeling through my core as I let him do as he pleases. Basking in the warmth of him, the boy smiled as he conquered me. He knew I was easily intoxicated, how easily I get addicted and he knew the power he has over me. A special privilege only he could have. A privilege of having me.

However I am not the only one. The way his hand desperately moves over from my front and on to my back, rubbing at whatever clothed flesh he can latch on too. Dying for more skinship. Even the way his breath hitch and moan vibrated through my being, I could tell he too is drunk from this public display of debauchery. 

We were both hungry and that's the truth. But not in the sense of lust or desire but rather a deep yearning of forgiveness and loss of affection. Even our fervent moans turn to songs of devotion under the cathedral of us. My cries are the wine that cleanses his soul and his touch is the communion that renews my heart. Of course, such intensity always has an end. Too much and one could have drowned at the pits of insanity. 

So the second our lungs sync in need of oxygen, we parted our ways. Yet both our eyes still linger where our lips were once connected. Shamelessly wanting more than just a kiss but too embarrassed to share another. Instead with a compromise, our foreheads remained pressed together in content.

“Wow, public indecency? Really? You’re better than this.” The boy scolded mischievously, voice dripping in sweet childish passion. Very romantic.

Rolling my eyes, I broke from the intimacy. Just to slap his shoulder in retaliation. Knowing full well what his sense of humor is like, I laughed at his stupidity. “You’re the one who started it!” But even so, my cheeks couldn’t help turn into cherries as we continued our banter just like old times.

“Ow! Now, you're hitting me? That’s assault!” He whined, deliberately rubbing the harsh contact for emphasis. “I don't remember you being this mean!” Even adding a sprinkle of a pout to top off his shenanigans. Not gonna lie, it was cute to look at. But I won't let myself be swayed by his charming looks. So with gritted teeth, I said whole heartedly in jest. “I wish I could hit you more, you dumbass!”

After hearing that the plastered smile on his face seemed to grow playfully. My words had lit a fire within him. Laying down the school bag he carried on the ground, he spread his arms and puffed his chest for me to see. Apprehensive by his actions, I took a small step back and waited for his next move. Unsure what his true motives are. “Alright. I’ll let you. If you kiss the wound after.” He said jokingly.

Ah, I forgot how horny teenagers were…

Exhaling between my palms, a part of me wished to scream in silent frustration but that would honor him a win in this childish endeavor. Rather turning the tides to my favor, what better way to do than just simply comply to his own whims.

Winding my arm as far back as I can, there I summoned all the strength this body could muster at the edge of my fists. Fair and square I punched him straight in the face. Landing a mark on his apples while his pair of peaches lay splat on the floor as a look of utter shock adorned his sharp features. Of course, never in a million years the boy would think I could pull such a punch. After all, that wasn’t my forte to begin with. Jokes on him though, that was me from before and not the me of now. 

Before I could let him say a word, I crouched down to his level and left a tender kiss on his wound. Licking it for good measure. “Two could play that game.” I whispered, leaving a gentle blow to his now reddened ear. 

Putting a small distance, I observed my precious win. His face all heated up like a boiling kettle. It was his turn to cover his face. Gaze unable to straighten, looking anywhere else but me. It's such a delicious sight seeing him come undone by just mere strength alone. “Wh– when did you learn how to hit like that?” Oh, was that a stutter? 

A new sense of pride swells within as this is the first time I had an upper hand on him. Pursing my lips in feign innocence, I batted my lashes as cutely as I could. My head rested on the palm of my hand as a finger tapped in thought. “Who knows? It's been ten years since the last time we saw each other. A lot could happen.”

“That’s fair.” He sighed.

Rosy lips forming a thin line, he shuffled on the floor. Finding a more comfortable position sitting crisscrossed in front of me. Mimicking my earlier pose, his hand rested on his palm as well. Contemplating something within him as a tiny glint nestled its way to his marbles. Suddenly staring intensely at my figure, I blinked twice to decipher his actions. I presume it's another challenge? Or perhaps sulking under the weight of my victory? 

Yet a minute has passed by and no signs of unusual movement can be seen. Only continuing his unwavering gaze at my form. Still, I won’t back down for the next fight.  That is, until a loud horn and the sound of grinding wheels distract me from my spot. 

The next train had rudely arrived and it announced itself proudly in front of us, lowering my guard completely. To the scheming boy, this was his perfect opportunity. It was natural after all, when one sees an opening one would attack mercilessly. And that’s what he did. Stealing a small peck from my lips and holding two peace signs in front of my face. My eyes could only dilate from his actions as the grin grew as large as the half moon. “Gotcha. I win!” he said proudly. 

Too dumbfounded, I ended up bursting from laughter. Nodding my head I unanimously agreed to his victory and accepted my own defeat like a proper adult I am. “What do you want as a reward?” I asked, adoring his boyish facade that seemed to light up from something so trivial. “I’ve been giving a lot of kisses lately, I think it lost its value.” 

Humming in thought, the boy turned his head towards the train. Inspecting the unusual empty shell as if searching his deep darkest desire in its exterior. The bangs that covered his eyes gently sway from his movements as the glowing light from the fluorescent light cascades his porcelain skin. Framing his youth in a portrait that won't last. “Tell me a story then.” He said, looking back at me with the answer he had found. My palms could only turn to puddles as I anticipated his next words, a strange nervousness washed over me. 

“I want to hear everything that happened to you when we were apart.” 

“Okay.”

Is what I said as his hands now intertwined with mine while we sat properly on the platform bench. Our surroundings have long been abandoned ever since I missed my last train. I am not sure how many more passed by but there was no next wave of crowd that came from the entrance and exits. The whole area felt like it was our own little domain. Our own little ecosystem.

“Where do you want me to start?” I asked timidly. Knowing where all this was going. I am not a fool. It had already gnawed at the back of my head since the scent of his wafted through the air. 

“How about when you left the technical school?” he asked curiously. 

“Alright.” I said.

The moment I opened my mouth, stories flowed into the space we occupied. Transforming the scenery into a dream-like state found in one of those shoujo mangas. Blabbering this and that, and that and this. The text bubbles were empty yet its meaningful conversations reside in its containers for only our ears to hear. As pages turned to the next, our expressions filled each panel with comical laughter, shock, anger and tears. Together we both laid each other bare as our bodies mimed the years of what could have been. 

A part of me wishes this moment could last forever. But I knew that was impossible. God never plays favorites. All I could do is make the most of what was given. Savoring the comfort that is him. An image of my last spring. 

So I paused my words mid sentence, my body moved closer to his. This time it's my turn to trap him in my own little cage. Kissing his lips with the same intensity as the scorching sun. Biting, marking and clawing my way through a never ending longing, wishing more than I should. As words that are never spoken but only lingering between us leaves my mouth, I pray to his exposed skin: cheeks, ears, neck, wrist and palms all my shameless I love yous. 

With the wit of a hawk and sight of an owl, The boy had already noticed my silent fears dressed in growing affection. Manifesting them into words, he could only ask softly. “Tell me. Why won’t you say my name?” 

Frozen in place, I searched through his eyes what he had just said. As it sinks in, my brows furrowed, hoping for him to not inquire further. Yet what reflected back was his own silent plea. You are so cruel, you know that.

“I know.” he leaned in to whisper while his sharp nose nestled under my jaw. Always the mind reader this guy. “But I want to hear it from your lips.”

With such a request, I bowed my head in utter humiliation. Unable to look him in the eye. My lips quiver as I silently confess my sins to him. “If I say it, I feel like you’re gonna disappear again.” 

A faint touch raised my head to meet with him once more. The quiet desperation and the childish eagerness from earlier had disappeared. This time our kiss felt much slower and much sweeter. “Please look at me.” He begged. 

Yet I still refuse. 

As the stubborn man that he is, he continued haunting my lips. Tender touches became pleading ghosts and the blowing air cursed my trembling. “I need to hear it.” 

I could only peek from my lashes while my mouth shivers from the eerie peck that landed ever so lightly. Constantly being tempted like this just to adhere to his whims, I couldn’t help counting each one as he tried to make me submit. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

And at the seventh kiss, he deepened it.

My mind instantly went blank with the constant edging and the sudden ferocity of the kiss. All sense of control washes away, unable to restrain myself any further. I moaned his name in finality. The twist, the turn and the tap of each syllable at the chambers of my mouth felt freeing. I couldn’t hold back the tears that ran through my skin. Bawling like a lost child in front him. But he only embraced me in his arms, gently rocking us back and forth as I repeatedly called him over and over again. 

“Suguru. Suguru. Suguru.” 

“I am still here.” he said, breaking the evil spell that tormented me for such a long time. Catching all the photographs scattered in the ocean. One by one giving them back to me. It hurts. It hurts so much. 

“Why did you leave me?” 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“Why only Shoko and Satoru? Why not me?”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?”

Questions after questions flowed, aching for answers that I already knew but I wish I could hear from his own lips too. Punching him over and over his chest, I can’t seem to hate him. All I can do is accept what he has given. You’re so selfish. So unfair. 

Grabbing the next hit, he forced me to look him in the eye. The image that greeted me isn't the boy I once knew. Replaced by a man sculpted in righteous reverie, cloth cut from the edges of apathy. This man’s eyes are filled with never ending desires that seem to want to drown me in it. A strange thirst and hunger different from a beast, that no flesh and water can calm its currents.

This is a Suguru who I don’t know of. The Suguru I feared the most. The Suguru that I wish would turn back as I reached to him in my youth. But nonetheless the Suguru who I still ache for.

“I didn’t regret it. Only you.” he desperately professed as his fingers twitched at my skin. Seemingly wishing to touch more with the him of now and not the one from yesteryears. “I love you.” he said as he smiled from the bottom of his heart. “I still do and will continue to do so.” 

“Suguru.” Was all I could say. Not knowing what else to confess. 

I had been afraid to see the twenty-seven year old Geto Suguru till now. Too scared to confront the feelings that scattered on the lonely shore. Too scared that I would fall together with him too. I am too scared that my love is so deep that it will swallow everything in its path. But you’ve always known that, right? Of course you do. Cause you feel the same way too. 

Rubbing my eyes, tears still continued to fall. My snot also boldly joined along my skin. Mixing in with the currents under my lashes. It's so embarrassing to cry like this in front of Suguru but I can’t help it. Everything is too overwhelming and all I want is to be pampered in his loving arms. “Once again, you’re so insufferable and I love you so much.” 

Caressing my cheeks, he wiped my tears gently with his sleeves, even roughly getting rid of the sticky mucus that spilled out. He teased my whining. “You’ve only realized it now? You’re such a slow poke.” 

Ten years ago, he knew I would follow him to the ends of the earth. He knew we’ll both crash and burn. He knew it will be till death do us part. “But I didn’t want that to happen.” He said. “That would be too cruel even for me.” 

“You already are cruel, stupid.” Still sniffing away the sobs, I couldn’t help but retaliate the way I know how. 

“Oh? Says the girl, who’ll literally die for me.”

“Says the guy who already did, Dumbass.” 

Mouth forming into a thin line, Suguru sighed in defeat. “Touché.” 

Giggling childishly, even at that age he’s still the Suguru I love. The way his handsome face stayed the same, only this time more mature. His same old earrings are still there hanging tightly too and so are his stubborn bangs. Even when clothed in those sacred robes, it's undeniable that he’s still him. “My tall and very adorable dumbass.”

“Your tall and very adorable dumbass.”  He lovingly repeated back. 

Really, this is such a mess of a reunion. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

Jolting back from my seat, I woke up from the sound of train doors signaling its final call for passengers. Hurriedly, my body moved towards it. Hoping to finally leave this place. The smell of sandalwood that once surrounded me fades gently through the air along with the cold harsh winter. In the next month spring will come and the Sakura trees will finally bloom. 

You really did meet your end in style. Fading like the last snow of winter. 

Farewell my beloved Suguru, I love you and happy birthday.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #getou x you #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #geto suguru #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk angst #I love my baby girl so much that I write fics for him for the nth time #I should be writing a band au for Choso or F1 au for the whole jjk but urghhh #baby girl ur too much :(((

[hekateinhell]

Devil's Minion AU but it's Armand and modern mortal!Lestat instead of Daniel. Send tweet.

Idk if this has been done before, in terms of set up let's say Lestat has been pursuing Louis (who Armand still spent all those years with, Louis just gets to the theatre via other means and situations) because he met him a few times in a bar and fell head over heels despite Louis disinterest. Anyway Lestat goes too far and finds out too much about what Louis is (completely unperturbed) and that is how he comes to Armand's attention.

What in your opinion happens next? Does Lestat play along with the cat and mouse chase? How well does he hold up over the years in comparison to Daniel? What is the dynamic like with Lestat as the guide to the mortal world, and how well does he do at it? Does this stories version of Night Island look different? When does Armand turn Lestat, is it sooner than he turned Daniel or does he still wait to the last possible second? This is a lot of questions and obviously you don't have to answer them but I can't stop thinking about the different ways this could play out 🤔

I'm supposed to be sleeping but this is my intrusive thought, I can't relax because OH. MY. GOD. Like, I know I've talked on here about what if Lestat and Armand had gotten together in 1781 Paris and it was Lestat that re-introduced him into the world, but I never thought of this.

It's so interesting for me to consider because we know what Lestat was like as a young mortal man! We know about his abusive childhood, his early education, religion, personality, everything! There's no guesswork/pick-your-headcanon like there is with Daniel.

I wonder... knowing that Armand's first time seeing Lestat in Paris immediately conjured up the memory of Marius, would he have felt the same seeing mortal!Lestat? Because I think he would've. And then my follow-up question is: in light of that, do we think Armand would treat him better or worse than he did Daniel in those early days because of it? I could work with either scenario here, but I'm inclined to think that he would have been more merciful because Lestat instantly reminds him of someone he so dearly loved. 

So maybe he skips the whole let's-play-a-game Jigsaw bit and jumps to "You will be my teacher", only 'no' is not an option. There's definitely an element of fear and coercion here, which is missing within that particular scene in Pompeii in Devil's Minion. And on the flipside, we're missing the love that was present then with A/D because Lestat and Armand do not know each other at all yet, but it is kinder than Armand and Daniel's initial meeting.

I think the London/New York years would've played out similarly with mortal!Lestat as they did Daniel. Perhaps a bit wilder even, because Lestat himself has an extremely hedonistic streak (Dionysus and all). They would fall in love incredibly quickly; it was lust at first sight and love at a-couple-sights-later between them in canon, so I'll just translate that over here.

Lestat would probably want to be an actor or a performer of sorts, and Armand would finance him! Think the dancer in QotD but with music or the theater or film! It's weird for me to separate the context of Daniel from Night Island, but Miami could still work for them. Although if Lestat's in entertainment, perhaps an island off the coast of Southern California might make more sense. Armand could create his own film and recording studios for Lestat to do his thing, and if Lestat ever has to make appearances for movie premieres or concerts, it's always at night and via Armand's private jets with Armand in tow.

The most fundamental difference to this AU though is the fact that canonically... Lestat did not want to become a vampire! He was turned against his will! So this immediately eliminates the source of conflict that Armand and Daniel had. Armand and Lestat are not having fights (about that anyway), Lestat's not running away, etc. It's much calmer and less all-consuming because that complete and utter helplessness and desperation on the human's part isn't a factor.

It is the insane '80s though, and Lestat's living it up with his usual enthusiasm for life and absolute recklessness. Maybe he drinks a lot, maybe he's overdosed a couple times and been brought back. And he is shacking up with a vampire that straddles his lap and sucks at his throat every night. He's not dying but he's certainly gambling with his life, and not realizing it in the name of enjoying his youth. Opposite to Daniel, Lestat thinks he's invincible. Armand knows he isn't.

At this point, we have to remember that the whole Devil's Minion arc was for Armand to rediscover his humanity and ultimately make the final surrender by breaking his vow and turning Daniel. I don't think Armand ever intended to turn Daniel during their first years together, it wasn't supposed to happen, this was just an era in Armand's life (like he'd said to Louis about Claudia). But I do think that definitely changed as time went on, and he knew he was going to turn Daniel sooner rather later well before Chicago.

So to think about it with regards to mortal!Lestat, I can easily see a similar outcome where something happens (maybe he's 32, maybe he's older) and Armand arrives in time to ask Lestat for the first time if he wants the Dark Gift. And now, with nothing to lose, Lestat says yes.

~ fin

*remembering when I posted Devil's Minion: Loustat Edition and in the same post noted it just wouldn't be Devil's Minion without it being Armand and Daniel. The Armand/Lestat version is more like Devil's Playmate lmao less edgy and more flirty, a completely different dynamic but oh wow so fun to consider!

#i clearly had a blast with this one thank you for sending it in <333 lol maybe now my brain can relax long enough for me to sleep #armand/lestat #devil's minion au #armand #lestat de lioncourt #you ask and hekate answers #vc #fic: devil's playmate

[depressedraisin]

song diaries: damon albarn edition

i thought i'd wait until the end of this week to do this weekly library entry for the music i've been checking out, but you know what? fuck it let's to it today, i've just got too much to say.

so this week i've been on a damon albarn discography expedition. listening to the ballad of darren over and over for like a month and consuming hours worth of concert and interview content has clearly broken something in my brain and this old geezer's music is my new hyperfixation. not complaining though cause there's just SO MUCH. there's like five lifetime's worth of music he's put out in 40 years give or take, and i can't think of one genre he hasn't dipped his toes into. also he's worked with so many SO MANY amazing musicians and artists!!!!! which is always so cool so many new people to discover and get obsessed with <3

now blur and gorillaz on their own are pretty much lifetime achievements but albarn also has such rich body of work outside them as well. i've kinda been familiar with those two for years, my recent forage has mainly been into his non-blur, non-gorillaz music.

here are some highlights i need y'all to be obsessed with just as much as i am:

The Moon Exalted (from the opera Dr Dee, 2011)

did u know damon albarn is an composer of operas as well?! i had no idea! a couple days back i heard him mention working on orchestrating one of goethe's unfinished librettos and i, of course had a very Normal reaction to that. (my obsession with classical music might be sleeping but never dead) so i went checking and learnt he already has 3 opera compositions under his belt. woah.

anyway this piece/song is from the 2011 production dr. dee: based on the life story of some elizabethan magic dude. there's a bunch of traditional elizabethan folk instruments- viola de gamba, lute, shawm, recorder etc etc, the wonderful kora (malian instrument, a blend of lute and harp), the harmonium (literally never saw harmonium being used in any music from the west lol im bengali so i get terribly excited abt this) and the iconic, the legendary tony fucking allen featured on this. the vibes are more folksy, earthy than renaissance-lite which i find pretty cool.

the moon exalted is such a lovely, lovely song though. one of the prettiest things albarn's ever written probably. the kora interlude makes me sob like a baby every single time.

check out this live from his solo concert at the globe theatre:

Go Back (feature on Tony Allen's album Film of Life)

legendary drummer tony allen (i've been listening to afrobeat a bit as well, that's for another day) and albarn has had a long working relationship and friendship. they've worked together on gorillaz, they were in two supergroups together, they worked extensively to champion western african music.

this track is a personal favourite already. wonderful afrobeat elements and tony's distinctive style coupled with some solid jazz keyboard-ing from albarn.

this performance tribute to tony allen makes my heart especially ache (he sadly passed away in 2020). albarn's talked a lot about how much allen meant to him, as a collaborator, mentor and friend, and it's all quite emotional.

This Is A Low (live from Shakespeare's Globe)

listen listen listen i said no blur- but. you gotta listen to this version of this is a low (from Parklife, 1994). he plays quite a bit of blur on the piano for his solo shows but they are kinda a hit or miss tbh. but this one works. for this 2021 solo concert albarn introduced a discordant piano solo in place of graham coxon's rather iconic guitar solo. and omfg it came outta nowhere and hit me straight in the face i love it so much

(don't tell anyone but ipreferthepianosolo)

The Nearer The Fountain More Pure The Stream Flows (from The Nearer The Fountain More Pure The Stream Flows, 2021)

damon albarn has two Solo ™ albums and the second, and lastest, one of these is the nearer the fountain more pure the stream flows released in 2021. initially starting out some sort of an orchestral piece inspired by the changing scenery outside the window of his home in albarn, it eventually ended up becoming this set of very melancholic and intimate set of songs. about so many things: loneliness and our changing relationship with nature and anxiety over life etc etc. post-pandemic feels basically.

it's a deeply emotional listening experience, with sweeping strings at places and gentle piano in others. quite a good showcase of albarn's pianowork imho (u see a pattern here right?). my fav out of them is the title track. the name comes from a john clare poem and it's absolutely stunning.

Mr. Tembo and The Selfish Giant (from Everyday Robots, 2014)

albarn's first solo record, everyday robots of 2014, is up there are one of his best works in my books. it's a set of autobiographical songs inspired by various moments in his life, with elements of triphop, folk and electronica and general themes of isolation and nature/technology etc: which are such quintessentially damon albarn, y'know?

mr. tembo is a adorable lil folksy song about this orphaned baby element he met in tanzania. aaaaannnnd, it features a gospel choir because mr. tembo grew up take care of by forest rangers who listened to a lot of gospel radio. cute.

speaking of the selfish giant........oooffff. big ooooffff. such a gut punching song, goodness. like when i heard the line "it's hard to be a lover when the tv's on" it knocked me out of service for a while.

Waterloo Sunset (The Kinks cover with Ray Charles, somewhere in the late 90s)

this one's quite a legendary performance. in the early blur days, damon albarn was often talked of as like a successor to sir ray davies, he of the kinks fame and witty observational character studies of english life.

this performance of them duetting the iconic the kinks song waterloo sunset was a passing of the baton moment of sorts. and when davies breaks into parklife in the end- all the feels, man, all the feels.

Mali Music (2002 album)

written in collaboration with afel bocoum, toumani diabaté & friends featuring ko kan ko sata, this album explores- you guessed it- music from mali. now i know next to nothing about mali or west african music really so i'm gonna be using this album as a reference point to learn and research more.

Poison Tree (from the 2018 The Good The Bad And The Queen album, Merrie Land)

the good the bad and the queen is 100% for sure one of the most underrated supergroups ever. i mean paul simonon (the clash), simon tong (the verve), tony allen and albarn- can you imagine the sheer level of awesomeness?!

they have two albums, and it's unlikely they'll ever have another. poison tree from their second album is perhaps my fav tgtb&tq song. merrie land was written about and as a reaction to brexit, and there's feelings of farewell and isolation and desolation prominent throughout. but poison tree also reminds me strongly of blur songs like battery in your leg and sweet song and no distance left to run. so yeah, emo hours.

(*for those uninitiated in blur lore the first two songs albarn wrote for/about graham coxon when he left the band in 2003, and the latter was written about his breakup with justine frischmann in 1998)

On Melancholy Hill (live from Matera, 2019)

blur got a cheat entry, so to balance things out, gorillaz gets one as well. on melancholy hill is a heartbreakingly tender song as it is but solo piano version makes it heartbreaking-lier and tender-er *sniffles*

#otify #Youtube #damon albarn #blur #gorillaz #the good the bad and the queen #song diaries #send me recs if y'all have them!!!

[petalsmooth]

Far be it from me to mention one of the reasons legacy networks are declining is because greedy corporations no longer wanted to play nice with set ups like direct tv/cable that housed all their shows and decided to crowd in on a market only a few owned like netflix/HBO etc...the result is now everyone has a streaming service but the public can't afford to own ALL of your services.

Not only that but there has never been a time outside of the initial exploration of TV and film many many many...many year's ago when Hollywood has had enough quality entertainment to fill a marketplace this vast and fractured. SO now you have diluted the content on the legacy networks, lessoned the appeal of a cable/direct tv outlet AND created even less viewer stability/loyalty because the fans have adjusted to the idea their show may be cut down and removed from existence in a year.

You've also crafted an audience that expects instant gratification with an entire season delivered and consumed in a month whereas before could have had them on the hook 9 months of the year. But then you compound that by making them sometimes wait 2 or 3 years for a new season that they may or may not care about at that point.

And even pre-dating ALL of this you started conditioning your audience to not even feel compelled to watch legacy tv when you fell in love with the cheaply run reality shows that saturated the airwaves with shows like Big Brother. You stopped making as much quality entertainment, and yes for a time they were hugely popular, but as with all things declined except...it left you without enough quality scripted content to keep people invested once that fad lessoned and with an audience that had moved on from making sure they had their sets tuned in form 8-11 at night

They'll never agree to it but as most of these streaming services are under larger umbrellas (rather than independents) so they could pull up stakes in having their own individual streaming services and re-invest back into legacy tv to premiere their content and try to re-organize all back under one service (direct tv/cable/something of the like) leaving just a couple services like Netflix to own what is a limited audience anyway.... It may or not be too late to do this depending on if consumer habits can be altered at this late stage but it makes more sense then believing fractured streaming or AI will save your business model. Although if they ever DO this I would advertise a return to the days when you only had a few commercials rather than half scripted content and half ads. That type of greed is also what pushed people away from you.

[tiredgeekgirl]

ummm so puss in boots the last wish is a masterpiece??

Okay spoilers ahead obviously. You've been warned.

So I've dealt with intense anxiety and stress over the concept of death for a few years now. Most days it's fine, but sometimes something gets set off in my brain that sends me spiraling into a state of intense panic over the idea of death, or, to put it more accurately, eternity. As a follower of Christ, I know deep down that death is not something to fear bc when I die I will immediately be taken to spend forever with Jesus, who gave his life for me and spared me from the snares of sin and gave me an invitation into His kingdom. Logically, I shouldn't fear eternity. Unfortunately, as long as I'm living here on earth, I'm stuck with a limited, imperfect human brain that cannot possibly grasp the concept of life with no end, and can't imagine how I could possibly have eternal joy that doesn't dwindle, and can't get used to the idea of not getting bored. My limited mind leads me to think that life will be boring and lonely in heaven bc my family may not be there with me for years if I go before them, etc. idk if that all makes sense but basically, even though eternity in heaven is usually a wonderful concept for me, my fear of the unknown and the limits of my human brain end up triumphing over the joy of that idea.

We see Puss break down in an intense state of panic over death multiple times in the movie, and every time the memories of his life flooded through his mind during those panic attacks, I started to cry bc I do the same thing. When I'm having an anxiety attack over death I think about my sisters, my childhood, my friends... everything I'll be missing when I die. And even when I'm not thinking about death I so often reflect on my childhood and get so depressed on how all these years have gone by and I'll never get to revisit them, never get to relive the wonderful memories I have of the past. My heart was racing just like Puss' when I witnessed his anxiety in the movie bc I was seeing myself in him the whole time, and I knew exactly what he was going through and how he was feeling.

And then we get to the ending of the movie, and I'm telling you, I genuinely thought Puss was going to die. I was so invested in the movie and felt like I was right there with the characters, and found myself saying, "Don't be afraid of death, Puss." And that was when it hit me. I was telling this fictional character the very thing I've needed to tell myself for the past three years. (That's also when I broke down sobbing in the theater lol).

It's okay to be afraid of the unknown. But I can't let it consume me. A life spent constantly worrying about death and how I'm getting closer to it with each passing day is never a life well spent. And I know my fear is really my human thoughts getting in the way and the enemy using anxiety to prevent me from feeling the joy I should feel over eternity, though some days it's harder to find the strength to overcome those things. But I've found that prayer and reading scriptures about fear really help me through those anxiety attacks. God is so amazing and I know in my heart eternity will be wonderful! Sometimes I have to use tangible things my human mind can wrap around to help ground myself, and even if they don't compare lol. But yeah, I know this is something I will be able to conquer, and I know heaven is beyond what we can imagine and isn't what my human mind paints it as when I try to imagine it.

Anyway, I felt like applauding in the theater after watching this film. Those who worked on this movie, thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving this to us. I don't think I've ever felt so seen while watching any movie, let alone a DreamWorks movie about an anthropomorphic cat lol. I just know this will be a fave of mine forevermore, and after the Bad Guys and now this, I can't wait to see what else y'all have up your sleeve.

1000/10, can't believe Puss in Boots 2 dethroned Megamind as my favorite DreamWorks film.

#movie ramblings #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots #well done dreamworks #you had me both cracking up and having an emotional breakdown over this one #dreamworks #movie essay

[dwellerinroots]

6 questions

This post brought to you by @thana-topsy; cheers for tagging me! Hopefully you'll get a few chuckles out of it..!

RULES: answer the questions then tag some folx you want to get to know better/catch up with.

Last Song: Like a lot of you here, I listen to a lot of game music; in general, ambient music is my preferred music for work/writing, since in the field it's easier to hear people talking if there isn't someone else talking... And for writing, words just get distracting. Anyway, I'm cheating here, a bit... Song ft. Vox; Air - Sex Born Poison (the line 'Prince from the Biomass' lives rent free in my head) Song sans Vox; Desiderii Marginis - The Sweet Hereafter (just full of feelings mostly...) Song (gaming games for gamers); Chapter 1 Epilogue, Limbus Company (I'm a huge fan of this company's works. They're very literary and just the right level of obtuse. But even still, what a wild ride this was... Oh, spoilers I suppose...)

Last Show: Television? Anime? What are those? Haha, no, I kid, I kid. I just generally place anything I can't consume at my own pace pretty low, you know..? Let's see, uh... I think it was old Sailor Moon. Dubbed, of course. The only way to watch.

Currently Watching: Isn't this really the same questions as above? Gawoaoaoh!? How am I supposed to answer?! I'm in a pickle, the last movie I watched, uh, hrmn, uh... Probably a horror film, probably Body Count, 1986. I'd link the trailer, but I think it's probably too much for tumblr dot com. You should look it up, though, horror is so dumb. (I say, affectionately.)

Currently Reading: Due to life having kicked my teeth so hard I'm talking through my gums, right now, I've mostly just been reading whatever I can take with me to work, so material literature only. Sorry, I'm luddite. I'm on my nth re-read of The Alexiad, and it angers me so much that a certain power is trying to - take the legacy of Ana Komnena (dreamy sigh) for their own. I've also been thumbing through my local birder's guide, as well as a book of regional mushroom varieties. I'm preparing. Also the Making of Doom 3 design book to cross-reference things. What else, hrmn... A friend of mine picked up a pulp sci-fantasy bundle, and it made me want to re-read The Dungeon series. But there's a lot in it, more then I can recommend here, so poke me if you want questionably-written swords, sandals, lasers, and who-knows-what-else recommendations.

Current Obsession: I feel a bit bad, I don't really obsess over - wait, wait, re-do. My WIFE (fictional) [hoarse croaking] More seriously, I don't really obsess over any one media. I love everything lots, and tend to go back to things that I didn't love 'the most' and revisit them even if they were only somewhat important to me. Similarly, even when I love a media, medium, or idea, it's somewhat at a distance. I realise that's quite disappointing to people, but I'm kind of laid-back. Always have been. Let's see if I can still find an interesting answer to this one, though... Oh, actually, it's not an obsession, but I'm obsessed in trying to promote it? The problem is, it's entirely - I feel like if you aren't a child of slavic descent who had bootleg consoles and enjoyed faerie tales and mushrooms, it's probably a hard sell, ahaha... Mushroom Musume is hard to describe. It's the perfect game for people who might have roughly time for one (1) level in ye old Boomer Shooter, but are feeling in the mood for faerie tales. And that's basically what it is; a faerie-tale simulator. It can be a light-hearted, even treacle-sweet story, one that's a little scary, something dark or melancholy, or a combination of all of the three. Sometimes, things that feel like failures are unique steps in that story that turn new pages; and this, combined with the incredible amount of choice and options available, makes it one of the coolest indie games I've stumbled upon. The score is hauntingly beautiful, the art and writing are divine, and short of mystical birds, it's got basically everything I grew up with. (Now one of the devs'll poke me that there are, in fact, mystical birds, probably.) You start as a recluse hermit, raise a mushroom-hominid as your daughter, and then play as said myconoid, just trying to live life. It's a simple joy of a game, and one I'll recommend to my dying breath.

Unrelated Obsession Stuff I've Been Doing: Again, sorry, I'm not really - even the stuff I love, I'll be like, well, 'that's enough of that, then, time to do something else' bahahahaha...

Re-playing Doom 2016; I'm looking forward to Routine, since apparently Mick Gordon did the score for it, and I thought the project was dead. There are still some flaws I have with it as a whole, but it's good fun.

Occasionally playing Civilisation... 3. With Rise and Rule. Listen, my entire family loves turn-based strategy. I really like how Civ 3 and ESPECIALLY R&R handled climate change, yeah? Complexity is often good. Also, I like games I can play for a few turns, thirty minutes over a cuppa, and then save and quit. I know the joke is 'one more turn' but for me it's 'ah, perfect for a lunch break.'

My cousin threatened said that we'll be playing GAUNTLET: DARK LEGACY on the nintendo gamecub (r) (tm) this weekend assuming that bit rot hasn't taken it's toll. It may not be a 'good' game. But if you're telling me you don't hear this and get amped...

Keeping friends and family from further complicating things in their lives.

Faffing about with writing; I'm also a read/writing mode only person, and if I have to choose between reading fics or writing, the latter wins out. If I don't spill a tiny amount of blood/ink I instantly explode, it's known. Ideally, people will make better decisions into the future and I will have more time. But if not, at least we'll always have TES...

Please don't feel obligated to do this sort of thing, but if you wanna have at it... I'll tag @zombiecatboys, @kulgen, @pikkish, @expended-sleeper, @totally-not-deacon, @beloved-lady-alma, @lyriumspectre, @thattalviel and anyone else who might possibly want it. Legitimately, I've never been good at telling what the proper etiquette is, especially when I'm like - 'wowowowowowo! quizzes awesome!' but know how - tiring that can get, bahaha!

#ask game #thana-topsy #queued #this was so much fun - being a goofball is fun. #listen if any of you want STUPID horror recs by the by #i am in your court. #not nearly as as much as my cousin mind but i've got some skills even now.

[ninjakk]

Tag 9 people to get to know better

Thank you to @sienne-k and @kimalysong for my tags 🥰

1. Three ships: WangXian from MDZS is my number one ship by far. They are like the ultimate power couple! KyoHru - Kyo x Tohru from Fruits Basket is probably my number two ship because those two are adorable together. Ahh this is hard! I have a few as well 😂 Ooh I'm going to go with SenGen - Senku Ishigami and Gen Asagiri from the Dr. Stone 😳

But I'm cheating and adding SherLiam - Sherlock Holmes and William James Moriarty from Moriarty the Patriot oh and Loid Forger and Yor Forger from the Spy x Family (I'm not sure what their ship name is but I hope it's YoLo! 😂) as an honourable mentions 🤭

2. First ever ship: Hmm, I guess it was probably IchiRuki - Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki from Bleach. I quite like Rukia and Renji but I can't stand Ichigo with Orihime together 😬

3. Last Song: Somebody Else by The 1975 - I just love the tempo of this song. I find it quite haunting in a way!

4. Last Movie: I watched Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. I'm not really sure how I felt about it tbh. I quite liked the first KO film, but this one just had a totally different tone to it, I thought so anyway. A bit too gimmicky.

5. Currently Reading: MDZS vol 4 as well! I was starting to read TGCF, but I got tempted to continue reading the 7S translation of volume 4 out of curiosity 👀

I'm also working my way through Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi (Kakuriyo: Bed and Breakfast for Spirits) as I've become quite intrigued!

6. Currently Watching: The new series of Bleach - I've been waiting 10 years for this! I needed a Byakuya Kuchiki fix 😍 And I've just finished Bad Sisters on Apple TV - which was very good!

7. Currently Consuming: A camomile tea🤘🏻 while I wait for my homemade tomato soup to cook for tea 😋

8. Currently craving: Something with peanut butter!

Tagging: As usual, I'm late to answer and most people have been tagged! So I'm just tagging again, have some extra love from me guys 🥰 @chai-chahiye-yr  @ladypfenix @miixz @side-salami @vergoftowels @scribbet @xinyuenii @ayanaacorn @withthewindinherfootsteps

#misc #tag game

[yukisdomain]

1, 2, 12, 20 for Yuki and Choso (if that's too much, just one or the other)

Thank you for the ask!

1. My first impression of them

Yuki: Cool. Yeah, beautiful too, but cool. The cool tall lady, in her cool clothes, on her cool motorcycle, with a cool shikigami. That scene in which Maki explains why she is a sorcerer and the way Nobara looks at her? That was me seeing Yuki for the first time (I watched anime first).

Choso: An interesting design. His and his brothers' attitude towards the curses they worked with was intriguing, so he was already more interesting to me than some other characters

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

Yuki: Like I said in the previous ask, I binge read the manga so I could only fully process everything that had happened so far while I had to wait for the new updates, which was a little before her fight with Kenjaku I think, so around that time. Her worldview, her attitude, her skill, lack of conformity - all that made me really like her. Also this might be a stupid reason, but after I found out she's 1,88m/6'2ft, I iked her even more if that was possible.

Look, I'm 1,83m/6ft . I'm a tall girl, although there are taller girls than me (5'6-5'7 is about average height for a woman where i'm from). So like, thank you Gege, finally an actually tall girl (at least in the media that I consume)

Choso: His devotion to his brothers made me sold my soul to this man. So even while binge reading he stood out to me. He's a character that can perceive the world from both a human's and a curse's perspective (I can go into what I think are humans and what I think are curses and why I believe Choso is a human, but I'll save that for another time). Also he doesn't seem malevolent at all, like he's less bloodthirsty than a lot of jujutsu sorcerers. The only interest he has is keeping his brothers safe, other than that he doesn't give a fuck about the rest of the world (that panel where he sort of snoozes off and Mahito had to snap him out of it made me chuckle; also Mahito nagging him to go do what he was supposed to do in Shibuya). I think you could drop the weirdest thing in front of him and he wouldn't judge it (at most he'd be confused and curious).

In my opinion he's a very capable fighter too. Seems to me that people forget that because of his latest fight against Kenjaku but like, Yuki lost against them, so what did ppl expect from Choso? In conclusion, I love him your honor.

12. Sexuality hc!

Yuki: She had her fair share of experimentation, alright, but I think that she's concluded she's into men, like cannon suggests.

Choso: Asexual. Idk why, but I can't imagine him as anything else. He's curious, he can enjoy sex, he will definitely do whatever he can to make his partner have the best experience. But I think that he sees having sex only as a way to connect with somebody who cares about having it, and Choso would definitely only have it with someone he's serious about. He wouldn't care about his partner's gender tho

(I ship those two)

20. A weird headcanon

Yuki: had a wild fight with a goose that wanted bread from her sandwich. Don't ask, it just happend. Todo filmed the chaos

Choso: cheated whenever he played games with Mahito because the latter was annoying as hell. It was a "winner makes loser do whatever they want" deal anyway

Sorry for the wait, have a nice day :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ask #tsukumo yuki #kamo choso

[vvatchword]

If left to my own devices, I tend to get up in the early afternoon. Today was no different. I stepped outside and I took a big breath and I got real high and I thought at the top of my brain,

"what's going on"

For the dog was barking and I detected a weird noise under that.

I followed the dog's barking and found my poor freaking mother lying on the floor.

She's not very heavy, but it's awkward trying to pick her up, and i have some old back injuries, so I ran to tell my father that I needed help.

"I need to do paperwork!" he said.

My friend. Can you even halfway understand the blinding all-consuming rage that blew over me then? I briefly lost all connection to my corporeal form and became a being of pure, unadulterated fury. If my dad hadn't been on the other side of the door, I would have slapped the fuck out of him. The only reason I didn't say the most brutal shit you ever heard was because at least four different possibilities came up at once and got stuck in my throat. What did come out was a strangled, half-screamed, "SHE FELL on the FLOOR," and in my words were threats of every very real abuse being spoken out loud where my father can't bear to hear them. (For it is better to appear good than to be so, and as long as they aren't said, he can pretend any number of things about himself.)

My god. I can abide almost every form of abuse with a smile, but lying and cowardice turn me into the fucking devil.

I could tell my scream rattled him, because he came straight out and cared very much. Mom cried only when he showed up. This disgusted me further. Wasting her tears on this piece of shit.

I have been ignoring the job hunt for some time, losing myself in writing and non-stop Best of the Worst episodes, but the idea of relying any more on my father's money fills me with a transcendental rage past reckoning. His kind of love is so careless, so smooth and undifferentiated--like a child's love. He wants to be filled and treated and petted, but he is unwilling to do the same for others. In short, he wants the objects of his love, and he wants the fruits of their love for him, but he doesn't want the work. He's an empty pit we keep throwing treasures into.

When he says he loves you, he really means it, but he doesn't want to do what's right for those he loves. To do what's right for other people, you have to be able to empathize with them--to understand what they really want and need, especially when those wants and needs are completely alien to your own. He can't do that, and what's more, he can't learn, and even more than that, he doesn't want to, and as icing, he has never been able to face his own shortcomings.

Anyway.

Yes. The dog got a treat.

Her treatment of my father makes me wonder how much she picks up on. She will fight him when he puts my mom to bed and if he's lying down she'll tromp over him as hard as she can. She never fights me and if I'm lying in his space, she will politely wait for me to move.

The dog has my back, at least.

In other news, I watched Nicholas Nickleby (2002) and Glass Onion. Exceptionally good films. I think I've watched more movies in the past two months than I have in the past three years combined. I kinda hate it, tbh. Either a film is awesome and worth it or it isn't and I'm impossibly bored. It can't just be good looking. It's got to have something smart or personal (to me) going on.

My father has a predilection for animated children's films, which nine times out of ten are like nails on a chalkboard to me, but I usually end up hanging in there for mi mamá.

That's how I ended up rewatching Kung Fu Panda. I started thinking about how Kung Fu Panda set off the creative community in China--don't quote me, and feel free to correct me, but I believe they were astonished something so good could be produced by Westerners--and of course, I had initially watched it and been like, ho hum whatever babby show be urself. So I watched it a little closer and dredged up what I knew of Chinese philosophy (it's been a hot minute). It ended up being kinda nice for me.

Also, characters being out of their elements and getting fired and shit has been good for me in a whole new way. I watched Candy Cane Lane with Eddie Murphy and I mean. Not completely vacuous, very cute other than the cheap-ass CGI, very serviceable, and least they tried something new and I appreciate that. But what got me was: his character got fired!!! And that's what I carried with me for the whole film for some reason. I just needed the Bob Cratchitts this holiday season. You can guess why. Just trying to make sense of myself, I guess. Where can I fit in? Can I ever work again? I can't even keep a sensible sleep schedule.

I've got to do something. Can't leave Mom unsupported.

#vvatchword

[daantaat]

“He said, ‘Ronit, it’s good to see you.’ I said, ‘Hey, Dovid,’ and moved forward to kiss him on the cheek. He took a step backward, shaking his head slightly. I’d forgotten. It’s not allowed. To touch a woman who’s not your wife. Even shaking hands isn’t allowed.” (Disobedience, p. 52)

#disobedience #disobedienceedit #disobedience 2018 #rachel weisz #alessandro nivola #my edit #my post #k.gif #k.edit #@ whoever did the color grading for this film: i just want to talk... #also this scene is a bit different in the book #anyway can't wait for this film to consume me!

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Where do you stand in the whole "consuming media made by shitty people" thing? Should one avoid them altogether, is it okay to enjoy them as long as you are not giving them money or the fact that a lot of people will give them money anyway make any decisions you make completely meaningless? I have heard many different opinions and honestly i have no idea what to think.

Honestly? It's more complicated that that. The majority of media made by shitty people are made by people long since dead. JKR is a case where she's made it clear that she believes any support of her media (even non-monetary) is support of her transphobic beliefs and has used her social capital to stay relevant and push her transphobic agenda, hence ignoring her media is deplatforming her. I generally take that stance on most people, when there is a single person to blame who I do not want to give my money even if I like their art. Film and tv series are more complicated, because despite the "one great creator" myth they like to push, it's art made by a large group of people. If those people's careers won't suffer by me boycotting the film based on a director or actor, I'll pass it by and not give them my money. If they do, I might reconsider.

On the other hand, it's a simple fact that cancel culture hits smaller, more vulnerable artists a lot harder than it hits the mainstream. A small-time author will receive much harsher criticism for a minor instance of ableism than a major author will for making sexism an inherent part of his magic system. People like an easy target no matter how absurd it is. Just take Isabel Fall's story "I Sexually Identify As An Attack Helicopter", where she cunningly turned a transphobic meme into a satire on the sheer absurdity of assigned gender, and in response got a lot of horrifically transphobic harassment directed at her, a trans woman, for alleged transphobia. The simple fact is internet harassment cares more for "easy to hurt" than it does for "genuinely deserves not to have a platform" and thus you have to seriously consider whether this is worth your boycott.

The final thing, which pisses me off the most, is this idea that art made by shitty people must be inherently shitty in return, and anyone who was ever enjoyed it must be a shitty person in return. Because when you hear that someone has used their platform to perpetuate bigotry, of course the most important thing is to pull the hipster "well I never liked it anyway" and smugly gloat about how smart you are, because it's easier to hurt the fans than the artist. It also perpetuates the opposite idea, that good art makes someone a good person, which has let so many predators escape justice because clearly they're too nice, too emotional, too artistic with such deep feeling in their art that they could never do anything so monstrous outside of it, which is how Woody Allen and Roman Polanski still have platforms and fans because if you like the art then you must like the person too.

The short version is, if a person is shitty enough that I don't feel comfortable giving my money to them, I don't. Maybe my singular boycott won't mean much, but it means something to me. At the same time, don't fall into the trap of assuming that the art tells you something about the person, or that shitty people can't make good art, because that's just waiting to be reversed into real harm. And always do your research beforehand, especially with smaller and less known artists, because you don't know if it's genuinely a shitty person or an internet harassment campaign based on nothing but malice and bigotry.