#for those we couldn't save

[trannyradfem]

Massive TW for 10 chapter novelette about misogynistic slurs, medical abuse and misogyny, in depth descriptions of abuse, and the things that go on in my mind as a survivor.

This makes me sick to my stomach. My dad, my much older cousin-- so many men in my life who promised to care for me when I was vulnerable-- were extremely physically, emotionally, and sexually abusive. It feels like sheer luck that this exact scenario didn't happen to me at some point. I've been exposed to so much danger starting as early as 4 years old, and it's a miracle I made it out alive.

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I've fallen down a flight of stairs-- wind knocked out of me, unable to breathe, multiple bones in my spine fractured-- while my mom looked down at me, scolded me for not being able to drive her 3 blocks away to work, and then left me there. I fell because she knowingly woke me up less than 3 hours after I had taken Ambien to get some sleep. She knew he would hurt her if she didn't re-enact his cruelty, and she was too cognitively disabled to fight back.

At that time, I thought I was going to die. As my vision started to fade to black, even though moving caused me some of the most excruciating pain I've ever had in my life (second place to a cervix biopsy without anesthetic performed by a sadistic male gynecologist I had never met before), I used my arms to pull myself up to the railing and flailed myself onto it, desperately trying to pseudo self-Heimlich-maneuver my diaphragm out of spasming so I could breathe again. It worked. I was so fucking lucky it worked.

After writhing in pain for what felt like hours and taking a dangerous amount of Ibuprofen, I drove my damn self to the hospital for an already scheduled orthopedic appointment for my knees. I had to argue with the male doctor for nearly 20 minutes, begging him to take an XR.

That stupid fuck told me, "You didn't break anything. If you did, you'd be crying." I was 22ish years old, yet I felt like he saw me as a 9 year old. But even at 9 years old, I had a much wider breadth of understanding what suffering is than anything he'll probably ever come close to in his entire lifetime as a priveleged, white, straight, male, doctor.

How pitifully uneducated he sounded to me, fully ignorant of the wide variety of torture and suffering that are worse than death. Things that make you crave death with every inch of your burning body, desperate for it to all stop, even if that means your future is forfeit. He has no fucking clue what that's remotely like.

I wanted to tell him off so bad, throw that misogyny right back at him-- because I didn't want his bullshit discrimination in my medical care--, "I'm not a little bitch like you, I'm not WEAK like you! Your frame of reference is dogshit and worthless! This isn't enough to make me cry, my parents always give me REAL things to cry about! When the youngest you've been digitally raped was in toddlerhood, this is NOTHING compared to the lifelong suffering I will have to endure for the rest of my FUCKING life!" A reality check, a blood curdling harpie screech ripping thru his ears, begging for-- no, demanding-- help. To tell him, "Do your fucking job, fulfill your rightful role, and stop being a whiny, delusional, lazy cunt!", as I have been told my entire life as I silently suffered.

The burden of misogyny is so heavy, and it still burns that those words-- even if I had said them to him-- would still never tear him down in the same way I was torn down at every opportunity. Because he has the role of "man". My role as "woman" was to suffer silently, to be grateful for the "love" contaminating my body, to love and enjoy the abuse. But I am NOT a fucking sex slave, and I am not a fucking TOY. I should NOT have to fight and protest just to be seen and given medical care as just another human being!

I fought him until he relented. I know this well, that doctor schedules are almost always insanely booked. I played a game of strategy-- if reporting medical misogyny only ever fucks me over, the only power I have here is the ability to waste time. And so I did-- enduring as the adrenaline wore off and the pain intensified--, until he was so frustrated, that he finally caved and smugly said, "Fine. I'll do the XR's just to prove nothing's wrong with you!"

The imaging was done. He came back about 10 minutes later, put my XRs up on the screen for me to see, and told me, "Well look at that. You DO have two VERY SMALL HAIRLINE FRACTURES. You'll be fine in a month." He then tried to end the visit.

I glared at him, nearly frustrated, humiliated, and exhausted to tears. I knew if I asked him about the pain, he'd think I was trying to score pain meds off of him, given my mental illness history and my several admissions for suicide at that hospital. I knew I had to pick my words carefully and quickly before he could get away, the pulsing pain threatening to derail every single thought.

Thank fuck the words came to me in time. As a child, I was nearly entirely nonverbal most of the time. Speech has always been a struggle for me, despite practicing speech therapy treatment methods on my own. Being an autistic female fucking blows.

I had said, "Doctor, what is the treatment? The adrenaline is wearing off and I want to get better fast so I can go back to college...". He turned and looked at me, his facial expression inscrutiable as he took a few moments to think. "Bed rest. Get a donut cushion to sit on. I'll send some meds to the pharmacy.", and walked away. I finally won. I got the care a male could've gotten in a mere fraction of the time, pain, & effort I had expended. Most importantly, I wasn't turned away without solutions like I had been so many times before.

I held out for too long, and my eyes began to water. I thanked the receptionists and left in a hurry, lest he think that I was an addict that purposefully injured myself for this, crying tears of an addict's relief. But even if I was an addict, did I not deserve proper treatment for injuries so severe? As soon as I got to my car, I laid down in the back seat, locked my doors, and lost consciousness.

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Hours later-- thankfully undisturbed in the busy parking lot-- I drove myself home going 10 MPH with my blinkers on the entire way, hugging the rightmost side of the right lane. The pain was at its peak; one slightly wrong positional shift and I feared I'd jerk the steering wheel in pain, and veer off the road or into another car. Thank god, I was safe, everyone on the road was safe, and the police left me alone. I had nobody to help me, nobody who believed me. Otherwise I never would've attempted such a dangerous stunt. But I had no other choice, abandoned by every authority figure that was supposed to keep me safe. I cried when I got home as nobody was there, and it was finally safe to be weak.

He kept me on Norco for what felt like 3 months. The entire time period was a blur because I didn't tolerate the medicine all that well. It gave me headaches, worsened my migraines, made me dizzy and more likely to fall again. The lowest dose made me feel high, detached from reality, and constantly sedated. Tramadol might've been a better option, but I didn't know my options. I spent that entire time on the living room couch, playing Skyrim in between naps. I knew what I would be risking if I were to ask for a different pain med. Uncomfortable, disorientating relief was better than none at all.

So again, I endured.

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To this day, that statement-- that'd I'd be crying if it was real-- boils my blood and makes me see red. Dozens of protests buzzing in my head like a furious swarm of wasps. This is the shit that COULD actually make me cry. This is the shit that could turn my pacifist self into a criminal, trying ro hold back urges to fantasize of making him hurt as much as I carry every single day. To make him UNDERSTAND just so I can get the care I needed. Another authority figure condoning my abuse because he could not for a single second see me as a fellow human with potentially real, excruciating pain.

No, I was just a whiney, exagerrating little girl. As always.

My T11 is now in the shape of a wedge. I have chronic sciatica and nerve pain down my leg AND across and down my back. My tailbone chronically dislocates, and I've been told by medical professionals that the only way to put it back into place is with a doctor's gloved finger up my ass. I'll pass. I'm tired of men's greedy fingers in my holes. I ended up strengthening the muscles around my tailbone so that, on my better days, I can flex to the point of pain, but it'll also put it back into place if I bend just the right way. It hurts like hell, but the relief ends up being worth it every time.

Years later, I started working in medical because I wasn't always strong enough to fight back when I'm sick, and my health was thus declining severely. That also saved my life. I now know it wasn't two "small hairline fractures". It was a compression fracture and a borderline displaced tailbone fracture that didn't heal properly. And I shouldn't have been on the pain meds for more than a month without having me graduate into physical therapy after the first month or so. He never had me come in for a follow up, or ordered follow up imaging to track the healing. This is what you're supposed to do with the severe functional decline I experienced that never got better. As an orthopedic specialist, he should know that better than anyone.

Ironically, he doomed me to exactly the same situation that aligned with what he thought I was-- someone who only cared about the pain meds. I will have to suffer for the rest of my life swapping out prescribed substances and cannabis I don't entirely want because of this asswipe. Because of how much he likely put in my chart that he thought I was malingering, or how much he downplayed my pain and the imaging. But how exactly do you even interpret, "I've never broken a bone before, but something feels wrong and out of place. This is the most pain I've ever experienced in my life, this is exactly what I'd guess a broken or fractured bone would feel like", as malingering?

The imaging has mysteriously disappeared in current day, but luckily my neurologist had EMR access to them around the time it happened, and saved the imaging. They either tried to erase the medical neglect and discrimination, or just didn't give enough of a shit to import it into a possible EMR update or change.

Either way, I feel like I could argue that it was gross negligence... but when the whole system is set up against me, what rights do I even have? What rights do I even have when the default is that even the most esteemed of professionals assume and document that I'm exagerrating and lying without any investigating?

Afterwards, a plethora of male doctors refused to treat me. This gives me the impression that my hunch of malingering or drug seeking being documented in my chart or notes may be entirely true.

Saying I was "Too young" for surgery or invasive treatment, as if I wasn't too young for this bullshit, this debilitating pain, this loss of functioning. I gained 40 lbs, and could no longer get dressed on my own on half of my days. Nowadays there are even times where I can't even get to the BATHROOM on my own. I used to be able to leg press over 300 lbs. I used to be flexible, sturdy, and very active. I am now totally sedentary, and so weakened and deconditioned I can't even open jars on my own anymore. Fucking forget lifting any weights at all. He and his cohorts ruined my health.

Saying that my depression had been causing it, despite having a history of depression and SH since 1st grade without ever having any chronic pain from it. I now know that clinical knowledge indicates that new onset pain after an injury is very clearly not being caused by a mental illness that is already being managed by medication and weekly therapy.

And not a single one of them, despite their feigned concern for my mental health that even made my jerk psychiatrist roll his eyes, suspected the developmental disorders that WERE actually contributing to my inability to adapt to my loss of functioning.

But to be fair, the psychiatrist didn't, either. He ultimately discontinued my high dose Prozac prescription during the COVID pandemic when I got laid off and was struggling to pay what I owed his office, knowingly risking me having another suicide attempt. His office staff went on to verbally abuse me when I called asking why they canceled my appointment the same day, chiding me as if I were a child, "You NEED to pay your bills! We already gave you courtesy refills and we're not supposed to do that."

I was never notified that any of my refills were "courtesy refills", or that I was remotely even in a situation that demanded courtesy refills. They told me they called me and left a voice message, and gave me a date and tome. I checked my voice mails, and it was nowhere to be seen-- they blatantly lied after I questioned them if they were denying me care.

My life was worth less than $300 to them, originally $400 that I contributed $100 to in favor of going 3 weeks without groceries at their forceful urging over a prior phone call over 6 months ago. And I did ultimately have a suicide attempt, though it went unreported.

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The dismissal of the surgeon's and pain management specialists I saw made my neurologist angry. Briefly breaking through his staunch yet warm professionalism for the first time ever around me, protesting, "What do they mean 'you're fine'? Your vertebrae is shaped in a [fricken? Idr] wedge!".

Compassion from a male doctor that had no obligation to give a shit, as every single one before him hadn't? I felt like I won the lottery, even if the results of my back pain pretty much remained the same. It did, however, gave me the courage and clinical confirmation to push and advocate for myself, and go on to get 3 life saving diagnoses, which he fully supported and assisted me with. I fully believe Dr. S saved my life, he was who turned everything around for me.

Despite that, I know damn well that not every woman is lucky enough to have a Dr. S intervene.

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5 years later, I was so angry when I went back to the surgeon's office I saw when I was first injured, and his assitant said, "Well, clearly you're not malingering." It was as if he admitted that was in my chart, and thought he was the good guy for figuring it out. Then he still had the fucking audacity to put that I was "sitting comfortably in [my] chair" in that note's physical exam, even though I spent the entire visit squirming in my seat, changing positions every 5 minutes from the pain.

No wonder that orthopedic wanted me to see a very specific surgeon when I first bothered him months later asking him why the pain wasn't gone yet, and what my treatment options were.

They were all committed to telling me to just shut up and take it, as if it was a sick porno.

As if I wasn't dead tired of hearing that. But why did I need to suffer 5 YEARS for that useless crap? Just to get a, "Hmm, I've got it! You're not malingering, but your pain is still fake. We can't help you, bye!".

I now know the appropriate treatments and options to discuss-- what the standard process is SUPPOSED to be. Instead of silently declaring your patient an addict or as malingering-- putting that in their chart--, you NEED EVIDENCE to put that in their note. If you suspect it, you NEED to try to gather or rule out evidence.

It would've taken SUCH LITTLE EFFORT for them ask screening questions about how I used prescription drugs, or to utilize motivational interviewing skills to draw out my intentions. Because they would've found that I was religiously straight-edge, and terrified of drugs because of my excessive family history of substance dependencies.

They should've ordered a urine drug screen and had me pee in a cup, because they would find that I'd test negative for every substance.

They should've drawn a CMP when I told them I had been taking high doses of Ibuprofen for a long time because of all my other chronic pain that went undiagnosed for DECADES. They would've found that my kidney function-- my GFR-- was around 60 and on a steady decline, bordering on fitting the criteria for stage 3a chronic kidney disease.

Instead, they all wasted hours trying to convince me my pain was not real, or that it was a direct result of my mental illnesses.

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I now also know my baseline GFR is extremely healthy, and I tend to range between 102 and 110. It dropped by nearly 50 points. I could've permanently damaged my kidneys because of how badly doctors did not believe my pain and suffering was real. To those who aren't familliar with GFRs, sometimes doctors compare these values to percentages of what your kidney function should be.

When my neurologist did labs on me, he was horrified by my GFR. He likely realized that I either highly downplayed my pain and suffering, or that I was otherwise seriously ill and he needed to get to the bottom of it quickly. Someone my age should NOT have a kidney function that low- for most healthy people it doesn't naturally dip to that range until their 60's at the very earliest.

He asked me to keep a log of my migraines. I estimated having 3 migraines per week. In reality, in that entire month, I only had 3 days WITHOUT migraines. He escalated treatment promptly. That entire week, I had to keep convincing myself I hadn't died and gone to heaven, because I didn't even believe getting appropriate care was even possible anymore. I vaguely remember obsessively and fervently thanking him, reminding me of a religious follower praising their god for salvation.

I had just been going through the motions before that point. I needed doctors notes or I would've been fired, because my job didn't believe my pains, either.

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I now work in clinical documentation, and I've scribed hundreds-- if not thousands of-- clinical notes for a variety of doctors at this point. I've ordered imaging, labs, referrals, all on the doctor's behalf, and written clinical summaries for other professionals to reference for our patients' careplans. I always make sure to very clearly and obviously document our patients' pains and aches. I don't want them to go through what I did.

The shitty doctors that saw me did the equivalent to cheating on standardized testing. They not only got away with it scott free, but they benefitted from it. They patted themselves and each other on the back, thinking they dutifully punished another malingering, mentally ill addict. Totally ignoring that doctors overprescribing pain meds as a shortcut thru offering meaningful treatment is exactly what caused the opioid crisis in the first place!

No accountability, whatsoever.

I now can't stop asking, "Where the fuck was your sense of duty, your compassion? Why do you even bother with being in a field entirely comprised of caring for the sick and vulnerable? How could you? And most of all, how dare you abuse your power?"

I learned later thru the medical workplace rumor grapevine that the shitty orthopedic I first saw eventually had his medical license revoked for sexually assaulting his elderly, demented, female patients. I learned a few years after that that he's probably back to practicing, and may have even performed my mother's knee surgeries.

It's a sick fucking world we live in.

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In my youth, I'd tried to kill myself dozens of times. My legs are littered with healed SH scars. I've performed my own sutures before to avoid going to the ER, because my dad surely would've punished me for costing them even MORE money.

But what kind of grown man needs to call a literal teenager a bitch to get his point across? Didn't they have more than enough authority and power? Was I somehow a threat?

What spoiled teen harms herself and goes to extreme lengths to hide it, performing her own sutures without anesthetic?

What sort of bratty, attention-seeking teenager wakes up in a puddle of her own blood because nobody found that she tried to kill herself, and she survived it? And then immediately cleans it all up herself in a panic so nobody finds out?

What spoiled teenager drives herself to the hospital after fracturing her vertebrae and tailbone? And why did healed SH scars almost get me admitted and my rights temporarily taken away?

How many fucking men have made casual violent threats, or rape threats, and never even had to think about being forced into a mental hospital?

How many men have carried out those threats without so much as a slap on the wrist?

And men have always told me, it must have been my fault, I must have been asking for it, I must have done something to deserve it. "It's simply logic."

But there is NOTHING logical about this.

Anybody who wasn't a female rape or abuse survivor thought I was lying and histrionic. A spoiled, whiny, teenage bitch. Because "Fathers love their daughters and know best!"

But statistically, they just don't. Domestic abuse crime rates by birth sex say otherwise. The ratio of men to women who abandon their children and turn their partner into a single parent makes this abundantly clear. Male sexual and violent crime rates write an entire story on the differences between male and female socialization.

And yet, they still delusionally kept me trapped in that hell for 23 fucking years of PURE. SHIT.

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I wonder what they'd all think about me if I didn't survive, if I ended up like poor Daisy. Would they regret all the things they did to dismiss, belittle, and gaslight me? Would they feel guilty for damning me to that fate? Or would they just dismiss that, too, convincing themselves I somehow set myself up for that, too?

You were so strong, Daisy... to make it so far with not just a lack of support, but likely other people condoning and dismissing your abuse, too. I wish I knew you and could've helped you. I hope you rest in peace, I hope there's a wonderful afterlife that makes up for every second of suffering you were forced to endure. Because I know. I know what a curse and burden it is.

It's terrifying-- but that could've been any one of us.

Most of all, I will never stop fighting for all the women who couldn't make it out alive. I will NEVER shut up and stop causing a ruckus-- for those who cannot have a voice, or do not even get to have a chance.

Because that easily could've been me.

[drawing-kitty-ckristal]

Oh god ever since i read nyoomerr's ficlet about OctoBinghe it's been stuck in my mind and i just had to draw it!

Nyoomerr's post

[hercarisntyours]

WOOO

ohmygodshe'ssoprettysheshinessomuch

[uncanny-tranny]

r u chill w non transitioning ppl?

Why wouldn't I be? At one point, every trans person who is transitioning was once someone who wasn't (whether or not that was a choice or their need is a separate discussion).

Hatred of any kind of trans person is not a Righteous or Good Thing - every single trans person has their place, their entitlement to safety, community, and respect of who they are

[dazais-guardian-angel]

kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....

[nostalgia-tblr]

it's "holding the fictional character to accountable for their actions" to you, to me it's "giving them the credit they deserve for a job well done"

[yardsards]

living in america is literally just like. yeah i could probably benefit from inpatient mental health services but honestly the resulting medical bills would just make me want to kill myself even more

[joyful-soul-collector]

[randomnameless]

The "i don't want to kill Edelgard" dialogue the game forces you to pick for Byleth in Verdant Wind is still one the funniest things in the game when you think about what that means in-universe; Byleth has had no issues killing people to get what they want all route-long, but the second Claude brings up killing the girl who started the war and is most at fault for everyone that died because of it, including her own soldiers, they say they don't want to, presumably just because they had such a deep bond with her during their time at Garreg Mach (even though it's perfectly possible to have Byleth spend all their time there never interacting with Edelgard once).

It's shit like that that makes me understand where the same-crest attraction people come from; that forced dialogue choice is at least understandable in Silver Snow, where Byleth is forced to teach Edelgard for a while and would have logicaly formed a bond with her because of that, but the only way that line makes any sense in VW is to assume that their crests made them feel a deeply-heightened and accelerated sense of attraction to each other, to the point that the few short and irrelevant interactions they had in their short time together at GM was enough for them to form a deep bond.

Anon,

If same crust attraction was a thing, do you really thing Billy would angst about Supreme Leader in VW, when Nemesis himself pops up at the end of the route???

I mean, between Supreme Leader and Nemesis, who are you going to simp for if you never talked to any of them, and both are leading a faction to destroy you and your allies?

Supreme Leader, or Nemesis??

All jokes aside,

There's, sadly, no Watsonian explanation for the very Doylist "but she lufs u!!! feel sad about her!!!" approach the devs wanted to hamfist in their game : Billy will feel bad for killing Supreme Leader, even if it doesn't make any sense for them to do so because that is why the devs designed FE16 to be : a story where the player will feel bad about killing the red emperor.

(or at least the player avatar, because damn if this completely missed the mark regarding some players lol)

Just like you feel super BaD for icing Randolph and Ferdie who still works with the Empire, fighting side by side with a Demonic Beast - when the game doesn't expect you to feel a thing when you kill the poor sod who was turned into a monster because the Imperial Army needs War Assets.

that's why some people really felt a bit disturbed by all this Supreme Pandering coming out of nowhere - same with Rhea in VW since her supports are optional, so if Billy is really a player avatar, why should they care about Rhea?

(granted, I'd say even if you only do the strict minimum, Billy still wants to help Rhea in the cinematic before falling in a ravine, so at least there's this sign that Billy cares about her - sure, Billy protected and saved Supreme Leader against Kostas, but after the Flamey reveal, we don't have anything to even remotely indicate Billy still cares specially about Supreme Leader : Billy's avatar status is the reason why they're written to care about Supreme Leader, and yet, Billy's character status explain why they care about Rhea - again, another example of the devs wanting to have their cake and eat it too!)

[xproskeith]

"When you hear about a virus spreading overseas, somewhere really far away, it feels foreign. There's this really weird feeling that it some won't affect you - that it won't get you."

- Josh Dun

Man he nailed it. That's how me and so many friends and especially fellow coworkers felt and joked about it. We had no idea the fresh hell that awaited us.

[kakusu-shipping]

Rät by Penelope Scott has been a Nezu song in my head for years. Glad to finally be able to put down some of the vibe of why.

[acourtofquestions]

“She had no magic to wield, save for the keen eyes of the goddess at her shoulder and an uncanny ability to remain unnoticed, to play into expectations.”

[nick--knack]

What's your favorite music album(s)?

oh my god. alright. i have so many in mind that i really like. so.

Well my all-time favourite has gotta be none other than Viribus Unitus by Dragony. I fucking love this album so much, the premise is so ridiculous but also fun and goofy and it feels like it was written specifically for me. The album tells a story about WW1 and Austria-Hungary's participation in it while putting a massive spin on history that includes dark magic, a zombie apocalypse, and more. I'm not good at explaining things but if you want, you can read the entire synopsis here and I guess there are a couple songs that I tend to skip while listening to it but nontheless it is a very good album. cough cough Love You To Death is the best song cough cough. Oh, and since we're talking about Dragony, Masters of the Multiverse is also worth checking out. That album is also full of bangers.

There is also Into The Enchanted Chamber by Timeless Miracle. Its the only album that the band released before disappearing, and every power metal fan eventually discovers it either as a blessing or a curse i'm sure, but goddamn its so good. I really love the sorta dark and gothic theme that the entire album has with its songs - again it's another album thats right up my alley. Good shit.

The last power metal albums I really like is The Monumental Mass: a Cinematic Metal Event by Powerwolf. If you listen to it in order, the songs are set up so the ending of one song blends into the other and I just really love it when albums do that. Also the slightly more intense and... well... cinematic sounding covers of their songs sound nice - Dancing With The dead in particular sticks out to me especially with the loud drums in the latter half. I often listen to this while i'm playing minecraft alone.

If you like folk rock, Herzblut by dArtagnan is absolutely full of bangers. Ruf der Freiheit, Mosqueteros, and The Riddle are my personal favourites, I couldn't stop listening to them on repeat the moment it came out. I also still find it a little crazy that they did some collabs with Visions of Atlantis, like I did not expect them to do a song together, this is like the music equivalent of some crazy cartoon crossover for me. Speaking of, Pirates II - Armada by Visions of Atlantis has SOOO many good songs aswell, this band in particular just keeps getting better with every release. Hellfire is peak.

For more history stuff, Foreign Skies by the Dreadnoughts is an album about WW1. Black Letters and Back Home in Bristol always get me a little emotional, and there's an EP that goes with this album called Foreign Sides (B-Sides) that you don't want to miss. Additionally, I've already mentioned it before but Pack Up Your Troubles - Wartime Favourites by The Billy Watson Band & Singers has a bunch of good history songs and its one of few albums where theres not one song that I skip.

As for classical music, my go-to for when I want some nice calming background music is this nifty little album simply called Viennese Violin by Michael Snyman and the Brooklyn Theatre Salon Ensemble. Alot of the songs in it are pretty short compared to the regular pieces that I listen to, and they all sound very nice so I guess thats another no-skip album on my list. This one is a bit of a random one but Komzák, Kmoch, Fučík: Old Czech Marches and Dances by Czech Philiharmonic also has a nice collection of songs, all of them sound very regal and/or energetic. We got some songs by our boy Fučíc in here. You know, the guy who wrote the circus theme. If regular old classical is too boring then you can listen to the album Wiener Blut by Céline Roscheck which are essentially violin dubstep remixes of a bunch of Strauss songs. I fucking love Strauss, he's probably my favourite classical music composer, so I really lost my shit when I first listened to her remix of Tritsch Trastch Polka and Radetzky March.

If you want something darker and cabaret-ish, Red Hot & Holy by Sarah and the Safe word and Counterfeit Arcade by Shayfer James are good to check out. I don't really know what else to say, just go listen go them.

As for lately, i've been listening to did an oopsie by Uamee alot. It's his latest release and I dunno man, he kinda cooked with this one - ESPECIALLY Dirst Ej Cake. I've also been listening to Rokotsu by syundou lately, it wasn't recently released or anything but that one is also great.

ANYWAYS im cutting the rant short here otherwise i'll be up all night talking about music. As much as I would love to, I have to work tomorrow so I can't.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 17

“DYWTYLM” by Sleep Token

[technofinch]

Hold on. Does Dungeon Meshi have the same plot as The Mary Ellen Carter

[fastfists]

I will say, while Pender had an hand in creating some iconic characters...other writers usually did them the justice they deserved and made them better.