#music disk horse

[thequibblah]

thank u for the tag i had so much fun w this eeee @emeralddoeadeer

TENDER - blur

HUNGER - florence + the machine

EVERY SINGLE NIGHT - fiona apple

QUE NO SALGA LA LUNA - rosalía

UP FROM A DREAM - haim

IF NOW WAS THEN - maggie rogers

BODYGUARD - beyoncé

BACK TO LIFE (HOWEVER DO YOU WANT ME) - soul ii soul

LOVE LANGUAGE - sza

A&W - lana del rey

HOT TO GO! - chappell roan

tagging @isahorcrux @bamflilyevans @unknowableroom 💓

[thequibblah]

ooooo ok FUN ! i will try not to do all beatles songs...

patricia - florence + the machine

rhiannon - fleetwood mac

shameika - fiona apple

me and bobby mcgee - janis joplin

carey - joni mitchell

helen of troy - lorde

daisy - wet leg

teddy picker - arctic monkeys

julien - carly rae jepsen

and, having allowed myself just ONE of these: dear prudence - the beatles

tagging @clare-with-no-i​ @emeralddoeadeer​ @possessingtheproperspirit​ @ghostofbambifanfiction​ @oyprongs​ and whosoever should desire to join

Thank you for the tag @itsjamespotter I LOVE a good music tag! Gonna do my best to stay away from musical theater but I’m sure it’ll pop up.

List 10 songs with 10 names in the titles that you like, and then tag 10 people.

Dear John - Taylor Swift

Molly - Lil Dicky feat. Brendon Urie

Check Yes, Juliet - We The Kings

Joan of Arc on the Dance Floor - Aly & AJ

Meet Virginia - Train

Fernando - ABBA

Come On Eileen - Dexys Midnight Runners

Rock Me Amadeus - Falco

Judas - Lady Gaga

Suddenly Seymour - Little Shop of Horrors

Tagging @emeralddoeadeer @thequibblah @nodirectionhome-ao3 @nought-shall-go-ill @isahorcrux and am open tag to whoever else feels like it!

[plague-vulture]

i've once again hit the "saying music is important in music based subcultures is gatekeeping >:(((" brainrot part of tumblr wtff

[batsplat]

''Me? Retire? No way. I don't know why people keep asking me,'' the 28-year-old rider told journalists at the official presentation of his Fiat-Yamaha team here. ''I'll carry on racing for as long as I have a chance of winning,'' he continued, adding that he hoped to stay with Yamaha till the end of his career. With new tyres and an improved MI bike, Rossi was convinced he had a good chance of showing Ducati's Australian wonderboy a thing or two. ''It remains to be seen how well Casey holds up under pressure. Our job is to get close to him and threaten him. In many races last year we didn't cause him any trouble at all''. ''2007 was a tough season but this year I want to get the title back,'' he continued, predicting that he, Stoner and Honda's Dani Pedrosa would be the top contenders. Rossi said his Yamaha team-mate, who has just moved up from the 250cc class, could also be a surprise contender. When journalists noted that Casey Stoner had not included Rossi in his list of top contenders for 2008, the Italian veteran appeared not to take offence.

January 2008

[sophia-epistemia]

's funny how that is the response, instead of "oh. well if you wanna try exploring the genre some time, here are examples of it that sound smoother" and then a few links to songs, each of which annotated with a description of what the poaster thinks are their most particular characteristics

like this

i hate this sites music taste so much its literally Racism The Music Taste site. you guys dont like rap you dont like jazz you dont like country you dont like blues you dont like ska you dont like reggae you cannot CONCEPTUALIZE listening to foreign artists you dont even know what turbofolk is you cant conceive of music existing out of anglosphere you think that mcr is punk and its the end-all of definition of "punk" for you i hate everyone here like WHAT music do you people even listen to what the fuck is left

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

I’ve been listening to some of Hamilton again, and no, it’s not my favorite musical, but yes, it really is great lol

[hoziersong]

All swifties hate the gaylors 😭 we don't claim them

lmfaooo in-fandom drama is so fucking funny sorry. also "gaylors" makes me cackle

[vintagegeekculture]

I remember a friend of mine had some LPs that were Star Wars themed disco albums, and it brought back a very weird memory from back in the 70s (yes, I'm old!) of listening to a Star Wars disco mashup on the radio. What was all that about? I also remember something like that for Close Encounters, too.

You remember correctly, and this went on for a long while. In 1983, disk jockeys around the country played a record that involved an Ewok rapping the plot of Return of the Jedi in Ewokese. This made it to #60 in the Billboard Top 100.

This is hard to explain to people who weren’t there….but in the wake of Star Wars in the late 70s and early 80s, scifi was so beloved and mainstream that the orchestral music for nerdy scifi and fantasy movies about outer space were remixed and sampled into Giorgio Moroder-esque Italo-Disco dance numbers. And the most astonishing thing is, instead of being consigned to convention acts the way “horse famous” Brony dubstep acts are, this received national airplay on the radio, reached the pop music charts, and were played in discotheques. And incredibly, this continued for years and expanded from Star Wars into Star Trek, Wizard of Oz, Black Hole, Close Encounters….

All of this was the work of one specific person: Meco (or Dominico Monardo). The term “ahead of their time” is thrown around a lot, but Meco really was: a combination producer-songwriter and Italo-Disco pioneer in the style of Giorgio Moroder, he did several things that are now absolutely standard: he used remixes and sampling before hiphop made that standard for musicians, he wrote “fandom music” on a Moog synthesizer decades before Bronies turned their conventions into cringey dubstep concerts with songs like “Everypony Dance Now.”

It's stunning to me that Meco has not been rediscovered, considering every single trend in the culture essentially went his way.

The most startling thing about Meco’s Star Wars disco album, the one that got the ball rolling on this trend, is this: I always assumed it was some kind of cash in created by a record label mandate, a label executive’s completely cynical choice to hop on a hot new trend. That isn’t a crazy thing to think at all, since Star Wars is and always has been the most merchandized and sold out scifi property ever. But it wasn’t! You see, it was all the product of a single man’s specific vision: Meco had to convince his record label to make the record because they were skeptical.

When Meco went to see Star Wars in 1977 on Opening Day (what an experience that must have been) with his friend and fellow Italian chest hair/gold medallion enthusiast Tony Bongiovi, he was already an experienced producer-songwriter who had worked with Gloria Gaynor, Diana Ross, and formed DCA, the Disco Corporation of America. If you've ever listened to Diana Ross's "I'm Coming Out," Meco actually played the trombone solo in that song. Seeing the Star Wars movie for the first time, though Meco thought the movie was nothing short of a religious experience. Originally, he wanted to do Star Wars music as a b-side on a Gloria Gaynor album, but expanded the idea into an entire album.

In Meco’s own words:

"When I think about what I did, nobody came to me, nobody said 'Meco, why don't you do this.' Nobody says 'Here's some money go make a record of this movie.' It was just my own... It was magical, it was just out of this world when all that happened."

Not only did this album hit platinum, not only did it actually outsell the Star Wars soundtrack, his remix of the Star Wars theme also went to #1 in the charts. It’s actually the best selling instrumental single of all time. A record, that, incidentally, it holds to this day.

Dick Clark, host of American Bandstand, had this to say about Meco:

"In 1977, Meco Monardo accomplished something no one else has ever done to the best of my knowledge. He was the first one in history to out-sell the soundtrack of a motion picture with his own distinctive version of a film's music. The music was totally danceable, and broke new ground. It's no wonder the STAR WARS THEME went to # 1. I loved his treatment of music from THE WIZARD OF OZ. Again, Meco created something innovative. The fun and the excitement gave a whole new feel to that totally familiar and well-loved music."

Like a lot of studio producers, Meco had an insane work ethic and hit when the iron was hot: he did an album about Close Encounters that exact same year, but also did a Star Wars Christmas Album, one of the strangest pieces of Star Wars kitsch around.

One of the most interesting things about the Star Wars Christmas album is that one of the songs, “R2D2’s Wish You a Merry Christmas” is the first professional vocals by John Bon Jovi, who was Meco’s friend Tony Bongiovi’s seventeen year old younger cousin (he was initially known as John Bongiovi). It's incredible to hear a squeaky voiced teen Bon Jovi on a kitsch album about a robot Christmas.

1978-1979 was really his best year. Meco made an Italo-Disco remix album entirely devoted to Superman, and at this point, Meco had the pull to get access to John Williams's sheet music for the score before the music even came out. In my personal opinion it's the best of them because he has to recreate it entirely with his own instruments, leading to a very unique sound.

He also did an album based on the Wizard of Oz:

And a combination album of Star Trek/Black Hole. It's probably the earliest remixing date of Goldsmith pieces of music: the Motion Picture Theme (which is now associated with the Next Generation - hearing it done in Italodisco is uncanny) and the Klingon Theme:

Incidentally, I think the design here of the Meco Enterprise, which had to be modified for legal reasons, would make a wonderful canon starship if anyone wants to be inspired by it. It reminds me of the same concept that would be used in the very next film for the Reliant-class of ships.

Meco eventually retired from music in 1985, but unfortunately he is no longer with us, as he passed into the next dimension in 2023. I think he showed us that creativity is often about transformation, and was inspired to make his art by a legitimate awe of space, the cosmos, and human imagination that the scifi movies of the 1970s and 80s provoke.

[moonlitsmile]

burning desire 2

hwang in-ho x f!reader

꣑୧ — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐/𝟑 . the next day means a new game, that game being mingle. In-ho is determined to keep you safe, Even if that means killing somebody for yoy..

The familiar sound of classical-like music echoed through the speakers as morning arrived, signaling the start of another day. Some of the players were already awake, their movements faint and sluggish, but most remained sound asleep, lost in the brief respite of dreams. Her eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room as it brightened, the main lights turning on. A soft yawn escaped her lips as she stared up at the underside of the bunk above her. Still in this hellhole, she thought bitterly. But despite the grim reality of her situation, a small part of her remained curious—what would today’s game be? What kind of twisted trial awaited them?The music continued to play, its familiar melody filling the space. She had grown tired of hearing it every morning, but, strangely enough, it carried a sense of calm, almost soothing in its predictability. Rolling off the thin mattress beneath her, she let her feet hit the cold floor. The black metal frame of the bunk bed loomed above her as she rubbed her eyes. They still felt heavy, her body reluctant to wake fully.

“The third game will begin momentarily,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker system, cutting through the music. “All players, please get out of bed and get ready. Let me repeat…” The instructions droned on, but she barely listened, sighing softly instead. Around her, the others were beginning to stir, groaning and stretching as they reluctantly pulled themselves out of their beds. Her gaze, however, immediately sought out In-ho. As always, he was already awake, sitting silently on the black metal frame of an empty bunk, his posture calm and composed. She had never seen him sleep in. Did he even get tired like the rest of them? Or was he simply too restless to rest? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Her own eyes were still soft and sleepy as she yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand while the other reached up to rub the lingering drowsiness away. When her vision cleared, she noticed In-ho’s eyes on her. Startled, she froze for a moment. His gaze was gentler than she expected, almost warm in contrast to the cold and detached demeanor he usually carried. It caught her off guard. She hesitated, but then a small, shy smile tugged at her lips as she looked away nervously. Her hands instinctively went to her head, smoothing down her messy hair in a vain attempt to compose herself. She sighed quietly, trying to shake off the awkwardness of the moment. It was time to focus.

~

The doors of the large elevator slid open with a soft chime, revealing the vast room where their next game awaited. The woman’s voice, calm yet unnerving, echoed through the speaker system, pulling their attention forward. “Welcome to your next game. The game you will be playing is mingle.” Her voice lingered in the air as they hesitated. As the group began to step out of the elevator, her eyes darted around the room, scanning her surroundings. She walked hesitantly, trailing behind the others as they entered a large, dimly lit room. It was a peculiar space, dominated by a giant spinning platform in the center. Fifty differently colored doors lined the walls, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The platform itself resembled a carousel, but instead of horses or whimsical decorations, it was an unadorned spinning disk—a foreboding centerpiece for the task ahead.

Her breath caught slightly as she surveyed the room, nerves bubbling under the surface. Mingle. The name struck a chord. She had played something similar before, but she wasn’t confident in her skills. The memory of it only made her chest tighten further. Her hands fidgeted slightly as she tried to focus. Who wouldn’t be nervous in a situation like this? The stakes were far too high. She didn’t want to die. The woman’s voice cut through her thoughts again, crisp and unyielding. “Let me repeat, the game you will be playing is mingle.” The repetition didn’t soothe her; it only added to the weight in the air. Around her, the rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable. Some admired the room’s dim, elegant design, but beneath aesthetics lay the truth: the games were anything but beautiful.

“All players, please step onto the center platform," the woman’s voice instructed. The words hung in the air like a command that couldn’t be disobeyed. “When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size. Go into that room and close the door within thirty seconds.” The instructions seemed deceptively simple, but the reality of executing them in the heat of adrenaline and chaos was another matter entirely. Her stomach twisted as she imagined the chaos that was sure to unfold.

“Oh, this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging,” Jung-bae commented with a nervous laugh. The attempt at lightheartedness felt thin, but it broke the silence. “I’ve played before too,” she chimed in softly, her voice barely audible. “Yeah, except instead of hugging, we go into those rooms,” Dae-ho added, his tone carrying a mix of dread and resignation. Her gaze lingered on the platform’s dim lights and the odd pony-like figures scattered in the center, their presence oddly unsettling. In-ho’s eyes, however, remained fixed on her. He observed her closely, his expression unreadable. She had no idea who he truly was or the depth of his role in all of this. To her, he was just another participant. But to him, she was far more than that. He was a player in his own game, yet his thoughts were consumed with her safety. He was determined to protect her, no matter what.

“If the number is bigger than five, we’ll find the additional people we need.” Gi-hun said as glanced at everyone, trying to offer some semblance of leadership. Dae-ho frowned, his concern evident. “But what if it’s smaller than five? Like three or four?” The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. “No matter what happens, don’t panic. Let’s stay calm,” In-ho advised, his voice steady and reassuring. Her eyes instinctively flicked toward him, drawn by his calm demeanor. He seemed to carry an air of certainty, as if he already knew the outcome of the game. How could he remain so composed in a place like this? The thought lingered in her mind, distracting her momentarily. She shook her head, trying to refocus. She couldn’t afford to be distracted—not now. She had to survive. As the group began moving toward the platform, her steps felt heavier with each passing moment. The platform loomed ahead, its surface wide enough to accommodate all the players. She walked alongside In-ho, her presence near him both comforting and unsettling. Jung-bae flanked her other side, his expression tense. Once on the platform, everyone lined up in uneven rows, spreading out from the center to the edges. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her nerves. She sighed shakily, trying to steady herself, but the anxiety clawed at her composure. In-ho glanced down at her, noticing the slight tremor in her hands as she patted them against her thigh in an attempt to calm herself.

“It’s gonna be alright... don’t think about it too much,” he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. She glanced up at him, her soft eyes meeting his. A small nod was all she could muster as she whispered, “Okay.” Her gaze dropped back down to her feet, the stillness of the platform beneath them grounding her for a fleeting moment. “Let the game begin,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, breaking the fragile silence. Her breath hitched as the platform beneath them trembled, a faint vibration signaling the beginning of movement. Slowly, it started to spin. Gasps rippled through the group as the sudden motion caught many off guard. She stumbled slightly, the unexpected shift throwing her balance. Instinctively, her hand reached out, brushing against In-ho’s before gripping it firmly. She hadn’t meant to grab his hand—it was a force of habit. Her cheeks burned as she realized what she had done. Nervously, she glanced up at him, her face flushed.

In-ho looked down at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he held her hand, his touch steady and reassuring. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that he would keep her safe. For a moment, her fear subsided, replaced by the brief comfort of his presence. But the platform continued to spin, and the game had only just begun. The lights in the middle of the platform shut off, dimmer lights above them flickering as they turned on. She glanced up nervously, her breath uneven. She was still slightly jittery, her hands trembling as she tried to calm herself. The atmosphere was heavy, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, a children’s song began to play softly across the room, the whimsical melody contrasting eerily with the silence. “Round and round, let’s go in circles and dance,” sang the cheerful voice in the music, the lyrics echoing faintly. The platform beneath them began to spin, slow at first but gradually picking up speed. Everybody remained quiet, their gazes fixated on the room and the spinning platform, the only sound being the haunting children’s tune.

There were 255 players alive now. The number loomed in her mind, a reminder of how quickly the others had disappeared. A slight shake ran through the platform beneath them, causing ripples of unease among the participants. Without warning, the platform came to an abrupt halt, throwing some people off balance. reader stumbled, nearly losing her footing. In-ho’s hands darted out instinctively, gently steadying her before she could fall. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins quickly overshadowed it. She glanced at him briefly.

“Ten.” The woman’s voice over the speaker rang out. The room plunged into darkness as the lights cut off, replaced by a deep, warm purplish glow that filled the space. Frantic yells erupted around them, the quiet spell broken as chaos descended. People scattered in all directions, searching for others to team up with. Groups were forming hastily, the countdown ticking away in everyone’s minds. Y/N and the rest of her small group huddled together tightly. There were five of them—they needed five more. Reader her voice shaky from nerves, hurried over to the group next to them. “H-how many of you guys are there?” she asked urgently, her words spilling out in a rush. “Four,” Hyun-ju replied quickly, her expression just as panicked. “That makes us nine,” Jung-bae added, his voice edged with tension.

Another random group of five approached them in a frenzy. “Are you a group of five? So are we. Come with us!” one of them shouted, their tone insistent. They reached out, as if to pull them along, but before they could join, another group swooped in.

“Hey, we have five people too! Come on, come with us!” the second group said, tugging the first group away with them. Now, Y/N’s group and the group of four were left behind, still one person short. Panic set in as the seconds ticked away. “We have to hurry! There’s no time, Gi-hun!” In-ho called out, his voice rising above the growing noise. “We need one more!” Hyun-ju yelled, her eyes darting around frantically. Then, she spotted a woman standing off to the side. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward her, grabbing her arm. “We have ten now!” she shouted triumphantly.

“Room 44! Green door!” Gi-hun yelled back.

“Run!” Jung-bae added, his voice urgent.

reader ran with everyone, her heart pounding as fear and adrenaline surged through her. The group spilled into the room, the door slamming shut behind them. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and shakily. A small beep sounded, signaling that time was up. The door locked with a resounding click, trapping them inside. She wasn’t standing far from In-ho, her eyes instinctively drawn to the small opening in the door. Peering through, she could see the couple of remaining people who hadn’t managed to find a group. Her stomach twisted as she watched a guards approach them. The loud, sharp sound of gunshots rang out, echoing through the room as the players were executed one by one. Her eyes softening into ones of sympathy and remorse. A guy in front of their door catching her by surprise. “Please don’t shoot me!” He said, before getting shot right in the head. Right in front of her eyes through the opening in the door. She flinched at the sudden close noise, gasping softly as her body tensed. She stumbled slightly, bumping into In-ho by accident. Startled, she jumped and quickly turned around to face him. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, her voice trembling. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and it showed. In-ho’s eyes were locked on her, his dark but strangely gentle gaze steady. “Are you okay?” he asked lightly, his voice calm despite the chaos that had just unfolded. She nodded quickly, avoiding his eyes as she tried to compose herself. She didn’t want to look out the door anymore. The image of those left behind was burned into her mind, and she knew it would haunt her long after this moment had passed.

The lights then turned back on. The light beeps of what sounded like a forklift echoed softly in the tense silence. The woman’s voice came through the speaker once again, calm and detached as always. “The following players have been eliminated. Players 013, 043, 049, 054, 060.” She continued listing numbers in a monotone voice, the names blending together as the players in the room exchanged wary glances. This round had been brutal, far more challenging than the others. For some, it seemed almost impossible. After a few minutes, the guards began clearing the room, efficiently removing the lifeless bodies, placing them in boxes, and wheeling them away on carts. A buzz suddenly filled the air, signaling the unlocking of the door. “All players, please step back onto the platform,” the woman’s voice commanded over the speaker. The room collectively sighed, the heavy weight of the situation pressing down on everyone. Dae-ho moved toward the door, opening it as the group shuffled out.

Reader followed hesitantly, still shaken from the events of the previous round. Her mind raced, replaying the chaos. She clenched her fists, reminding herself to stay focused. Caution wasn’t enough anymore; speed was her only option. Quick and fast—that was the strategy now. She walked back onto the platform, her gaze lingering on the dark stains of blood smeared across the ground. A chill ran down her spine. She couldn’t end up like them. She wouldn’t. The thought alone made her stomach churn. In-ho trailed not far behind her, his sharp eyes watching her every move as she returned to the platform with the others. He noticed the slight tilt of her head as she glanced around nervously, trying to take in her surroundings. He could sense her fear, and though he hated to admit it, it bothered him. He didn’t want her to feel this way—even if he knew part of it was his fault. Still, he cared more about her safety than her feelings at the moment. For him, that was all that mattered.

Everyone lined up back on the large platform once more. The overhead lights flickered before dimming, casting faint shadows across their faces. The platform trembled slightly, causing several players to stumble as they tried to steady themselves. Reader felt her balance falter but managed to catch herself just in time. She instinctively glanced to her side, expecting to see In-ho, but he wasn’t there. Instead, he had moved to stand in front of her, next to Gi-hun. She watched as the two men exchanged hurried whispers, likely trying to strategize about the next number. The eerie music began to play once again, a mocking tune that felt out of place amidst the tension. The platform creaked as it began to move beneath their feet. “We will go hand in hand, and have fun jumping around. Round and round—” The sudden jerk of the platform stopping caused gasps to ripple through the group. Some players stumbled again, their nerves frayed.

“Four,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, cold and emotionless. The lights flickered off, replaced by the dim, purplish glow that seemed to swallow the room. readers heart quickened as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. “Your four, go!” Gi-hun shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “No, it’s okay! I’ll go find another group. I’m sure there’s another nearby,” reader yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noise. In-ho’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t let her run off—not when the chances of finding another group were slim. “No. You four go. Go ahead,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“B-but—” reader stammered, her voice trembling. She didn’t want to leave him. What if something happened to him? The thought was unbearable. “Go,” In-ho said strictly, turning away before she could respond. Without another word, he disappeared into the frenzied crowd, searching for another group. Reader watched him go, her chest tightening with worry. She wanted to call out to him, to stop him, but before she could, Jung-bae gently grabbed her arm. “We have no choice. Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her toward the purple-lit room. The four of them rushed inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Reader exhaled shakily, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes immediately went to the crack in the door, straining to catch a glimpse of In-ho. Her heart raced as she scanned the chaotic scene outside. People were yelling, running for rooms, and the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to focus. She couldn’t spot him in the sea of bodies.

The buzzer sounded again, signaling the end of the round. The lock on the door clicked into place, and the unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Reader flinched, her back pressing against the cold wall behind her. Her heart pounded as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to steady her breathing. How many more rounds could she survive? How many rounds were left? The question lingered in her mind, heavy and unanswerable. The lights flickered before tuning back on, the clicking sounds of every door unlocking echoing through the space. As the mechanisms released, each door swung open, and people began stepping out cautiously. Blood smeared across the floor, more than before, a grim reminder of what had just occurred. The guards moved swiftly, disposing of the bodies with practiced efficiency, clearing the way before unlocking the remaining doors. It was then that **reader** stepped out, her breath shaky but steady enough. Her eyes darted around the vast room, scanning frantically for in-ho. Where was he? She pushed forward, her nerves on edge, walking alongside dae-ho, jung-bae, and gi-hun. The group stopped just outside the door, their expressions tense, voices rising as they began calling out for in-ho.

“Young-il!” Dae-ho shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice louder. “Young-il?” Jung-bae called out, his tone edged with concern. reader glanced around nervously, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her wide, soft eyes flickered with worry as her gaze swept the room. Then, finally, she heard it—a familiar voice that made her heart skip a beat. “Gi-hun.” The voice was steady, calm, and unmistakable.

She turned sharply in the direction of the voice, and there he was. In-ho was walking back towards the group, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, softening her expression as a sweet smile replaced her anxious frown. “Young-il!” Dae-ho called out again, this time with a breathy chuckle of relief. “Oh, thank god,” Jung-bae muttered, his tone heavy with gratitude as he stepped forward to embrace in-ho in a tight hug. In-ho stood beside reader, his presence grounding her in the moment. She let out a gentle chuckle, watching as Jung-bae clung to him briefly before stepping back. “I was worried,” Gi-hun admitted, his voice sincere, though tinged with a rare softness. “I’m glad you made it.”

Reader remained still, her gaze fixed on in-ho. Her eyes, wide and tender, were filled with a mixture of relief and unspoken gratitude. “I’m a likeable guy,” In-ho said with a light chuckle, his tone playful yet modest. “So I’m good at games like this.” A small smile broke across her lips as she watched him, her heart settling into a more even rhythm. In-ho’s gaze shifted then, turning towards her. His eyes, which had moments before been sharp and focused, now softened as they met hers. There was something gentle in his expression, a quiet concern that made her chest feel warm. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice light and unusually soft, as though he feared startling her. “Yes… I’m okay,” she replied, her tone quiet but sincere. “I’m glad you made it.” Her lips curved into a sweet, gentle smile, one that carried all her relief and gratitude in its simplicity. In-ho smiled back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that felt personal, almost intimate. His eyes, filled with affection and care, lingered on her for a moment longer before he sighed lightly and turned his attention back to the group. “All players, please step back onto the center platform,” the woman’s voice rang out again, cutting through the moment. It was calm, detached, and yet insistent, as though reminding them that their reprieve was only temporary. Reader took a deep breath, her smile fading only slightly as she prepared herself for whatever came next. Beside her, in-ho remained steady, his presence a small comfort amidst the tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud.

~

Two rounds had passed, and now it was the final round. The remaining players hesitated for a moment before stepping back onto the platform. Tension filled the room as everyone prepared themselves for what was to come. Reader moved to walk beside In-ho, wanting to stay close to him once again. She felt less jittery than before, having learned to be more cautious after the previous rounds. The woman’s voice echoed through the speakers, commanding attention. “Now, the final round will begin.” The platform shook slightly, causing some players to stumble. The familiar melody of “Round and Round” began to play again, filling the room with its eerie rhythm. Reader eyes darted around the room, noting the doors, the flickering lights, and the bloodstains that painted the floor and walls. In-ho, however, kept his gaze on her, watching her closely. She didn’t appear as nervous as earlier, which reassured him.

On In-ho’s other side stood Gi-hun, with Jung-bae behind him. “What do you think the number will be this time?” Jung-bae asked curiously. Before Gi-hun could answer, In-ho replied with quiet certainty, “Two.” Reader glanced up at him, noticing how his focus had shifted from her to the doors ahead. “Why two?” Jung-bae pressed, frowning. “There are 126 people left,” In-ho explained calmly. “And there are 50 rooms. That means there won’t be enough for everyone—only 100 people will survive. The rest will be killed.” His tone was steady and confident, leaving no room for doubt. A tense silence followed, broken only by the haunting music.

Suddenly, the platform came to an abrupt stop. The lights flickered off, replaced by the purplish glow that bathed the room in an unsettling hue. The woman’s voice declared, “Two.” Readers nerves returned, tension rising in her chest as her eyes flicked around uneasily. Sensing her fear, In-ho quickly grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said firmly, leading her toward one of the rooms. Her heart raced as she followed, her cheeks flushing as his hand held hers. But as they neared the door, another group converged on the same target. Before she realized what was happening, a pair of hands shoved her back. She let out a startled squeal as she hit the floor, her breath knocked out of her. The two others rushed past her toward the door.

Hearing her cry, In-ho spun around. He immediately saw her on the ground and his eyes darkened. She scrambled to her feet, running toward the door, but one of the men had already slipped inside. His partner tried to follow, but In-ho intercepted him. Wrapping an arm tightly around the man’s neck, In-ho growled, “Get in!” to reader. She obeyed without hesitation, darting into the room, her breaths quick and unsteady. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. Inside the room stood another man, his presence immediately setting her on edge. In-ho shoved the second man out of the doorway, entering behind her. His expression was cold and intense as he turned to the remaining intruder.

“Get out,” In-ho demanded, his voice low and firm.

The man’s eyes darted between In-ho and reader before shaking his head defiantly. “We were here first,” he spat, referring to himself and the man In-ho had thrown out.

The timer began to beep, counting down from 18. There was no time to argue. In-ho lunged at the man, tackling him to the ground. The sudden banging on the door behind her made reader jump. Someone outside was trying to force their way in. She pressed against the door, struggling to hold it shut as fear gripped her.

“There are three people in here,” she thought frantically. “There can only be two.”

The woman’s voice continued counting down. “Seven… six…” The banging stopped as the person outside ran off, searching for another open room. She turned her attention back to In-ho and the other man, who were locked in a violent struggle.

“Five… four… three…” In-ho had the man in a headlock now, his grip unrelenting. Readers heart pounded as the scene played out before her. Her eyes big, filled with worry. And now fear.

“Two…”

With a sharp jerk of his arm, In-ho snapped the man’s neck. The sickening crack echoed in the small room. Reader gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the lifeless body slumping in In-ho’s arms.

“One.”

A soft beep signaled the end of the round, and the door locked with a final click. The woman’s voice spoke again. “Game over.”

Readers wide eyes glistened with fear and disbelief as she looked at In-ho. He was still crouched on the floor, the dead man’s body at his feet. His dark eyes met hers, showing no remorse. Slowly, he stood, his expression softening slightly as he approached her. She instinctively took a step back, her body pressing into the corner of the room. “Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice low and cautious. “Just…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just don’t say anything.” “I had to,” he said firmly, his tone unwavering.

“I know…” she replied in a barely audible voice.

In-ho stood directly in front of her now. His hand reached out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at his touch, her fear still lingering. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. But he didn’t feel any regret, not at all.

All that was important is that she lived.

[sunshine-is-a-gaslight]

Watching people who don't get allegories for addiction try to understand allegories for addiction is kind of funny but also infuriating because half this website doesn't actually understand his songs

WILLIAM TAPEWORM FEAR

6up 5oh - hunt

skeleton appreciation - flesh

front street - slaughter + corruption???

aikido! - lonely + web

white knuckle - web

a little bit mine - desolation + lonely

thermodynamic - corruption

red moon - dark

lysergide daydream - spiral

the first step - web

jimmy - end + vast bc ocean?????

chemical - spiral + desolation

everything is a lot - end

destroy to enjoy - extinction

self - stranger

2012 - extinction

cotard’s solution - spiral + end + stranger

five names - spiral + stranger + buried

hand me my shovel - buried

dr sunshine - dark

ish - end

[thequibblah]

hello thought you’d like to know that your (CT) characterisation of James and Lily reminds me of ‘an ego thing’ by Lizzy McAlpine :)

Oh I totally hear it! Thank you for sharing 🩷

[naffeclipse]

Forget-me-not

Reader x Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Thank you for @robinette-green for the lovely request! I adored writing this and making the boys so sweet to the reader! The reader is a clockwork animatronic who's trapped in an abandoned circus, and Sun and Moon step foot onto the forgotten ground and find someone in need of their help.

———

You watch another golden glow creep into oblivion upon the abandoned carnival and its sad, lonely inhabitants. The sun withdraws soundlessly like a stranger passing by. The Freak Show sign slumps, depressed. The once golden and galloping horses in the carousel have rusted into cruel, dark hues and no longer stamp or throw their wild manes back while children ride their once beautiful, gleaming saddles. The big tent—it hasn’t been big in years. It lies in sore tatters, wet from yesterday’s rainstorm with poles sticking up high and stringing along broken bulbs of once bright, yellow lights illuminating the darkness, promising fun to the humans who stepped onto the fairgrounds. 

You hate the darkness. You hate it more than being bolted down in place and left to host a game of ring toss no one has played in years. Your right arm is still extended in invitation over the green and brown bottles. The carnival owner couldn’t even allow you both of your arms, pinning your stance into place with bolts and leaving only your left hand to occasionally wave and flutter to catch the attendee’s eyes. 

After all the trouble he went to steal you away from your creator, you thought he would at least have taken you with him when the bright, colorful lights and happy, bouncing music came to a halt.

The soft words of your creator ring distantly, like a voice calling out through fog. You are—were his most beautiful creation. He whispered the words to you while he painted your lips red and bid you to take a look in the mirror.

You agreed. You were so, so pretty.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t know what you look like anymore. You don’t want to look upon how rusted your clockwork inner workings have become. Your once pale and milky porcelain skin might be gray and slushy as the dirt along the pathways guests took, and that is not something you wish to know. There’s no doubt your red lips and silky red hair have been forsaken to the elements. You fear you are ruined. 

You are now worthy of abandonment.

In the darkness, you truly are forgotten. A hitch within your clockwork chassis catches and grinds before continuing, but the scraping pain remains.

Your attention is drawn back to the front entrance, a good distance away from you. Half crumbled with support beats cutting over the access in an ‘X’ shape, like a warning to not trespass this decrepit lot, shadows slink over the splintered and rotted wood. Long, lanky umbras move with a silence that is so strange and careful.

You squint your eyes. The urge to tilt your head slightly to peer better at the disturbance is cut short by the bolt in your neck, refusing to let your head tilt save from a slight side to side to give an enthralling smile.

You shouldn’t get too excited. It’s likely mere animals. A pair of raccoons or a stray dog who has lost its owner. Once, you watched a doe deer step softly through the wretched ruins, big wet eyes turning to you for one moment before the blurt of your automated voice lines jumped from your throat and sent the creature bounding away.

Nothing is yours here, not even the moment of daydreaming of you prancing out of this forsaken carnival like a doe deer. Free.

The shadows mingle into the dusky darkness. The blue-gray twilight reveals figures, and your mechanical heart chokes.

Two personages creep along the path winding from the entranceway. The same path leading directly towards the ring toss game; towards you. One dons a thick hood and cape, dark blue like midnight. The other’s head is sharper and unconcealed. A crown of jutting points frame the figure’s disk-like face, and a thick deep brown shawl gathers at his throat and falls down his chest and arms. 

As they pass into a silvery slant of budding starlight, metal glints on the crowned one’s face and the other hooded person’s hands spray out while scanning the darkness for threats, silver digits curling and uncurling.

Two automatons. Like you. But not.

A whirl in your servos thrums a loud, exhausted sound, and you stiffen—as much as you can while bolted in place. 

What could two automatons want with an abandoned circus? You were never familiar with the world outside of your creator’s home before you were smuggled out against your will by the circus owner, but at the circus, you learned much. 

You learned of scavengers and automatons gaining their rights. You always wonder if that’s partly the reason you were left here to rot too—are you too human now to own but robotic enough to be neglected? 

They could spy on you in the darkness and decide to strip you for parts. Your clockwork clanks heavily within you like a clapper within a bell, beating against your brass heart. Can they hear it? You have to stop. Be quiet. 

The two automatons prowl forward. Their optics and audio processors strain not unlike hounds searching for a fox. What do they prey upon? The crowned one gestures towards the carousel, the ride well within distance to your ring toss game, and you must clench your jaw tightly to keep from whimpering. The hooded one dips his head but keeps moving forward. Your gears crank in jarring motions, jolting and jerking while you hope they take the parts they desire from the circus and leave.

The hooded one continues down the path. Your chassis tightens, and your fingers tremble in place while you keep your eyes averted, held above the automaton’s head but keeping him in the unfocused corners of your optics.

Please. Please, don’t. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Step right up and toss a ring to win a prize!” The words blurt from your mouth and startle all the ruins and everyone within.

Two pairs of glowing eyes fall upon you. Straightening and alerted, the shrouded automatons stare into your fluttering eyelids as you attempt to beg them to leave you alone. A spark burns in your throat. Your voice lines refuse to give.

One stops and reaches silver and blue digits up and lowers the hood slowly. A face gazes at you, scarlet eyes glowing in the darkness with a face like a crescent moon. A blue nightcap, slightly frayed and worn, and decorated in yellow stars, covers his circular faceplate. 

The other steps closer with a curious tilt of the sharp points framing the automation’s head, and enters the last of the blue-gray darkness before night completely takes over. A yellow face, grinning with round cheeks, observes you. Pale optics beam. 

“Hello, friend,” he speaks, voice bouncing low but with intrigue. “Why don’t you come on out? It’s alright, don’t be afraid.”

Your optics dart side to side. Helplessness settles over you, pinned in place by rusty, dark shame. 

“Do you need help?” The one with the pale yellow sun rays steps closer, his eyes narrowing in the slightest. “Are you stuck?”

The moon-face automaton slips closer. The glow of his gaze sweeps over the game you’re bolted in front of, and he fixates on your right arm stiffly held out in invitation as your fingers curl and clench. You glance down at him, wondering if your eyes plead in the way your mouth cannot.

Biting your bottom lip does not prevent another voice line from bursting forth, and inwardly, you crumple.

“Try your hand! One ring around the neck of a bottle wins a prize!” 

“Not stuck,” the lunar automaton turns to his accomplice. His cloak shifts like shadows under the arc of the moon. “Trapped.”

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let us help.” The sunny one steps forward, his hands raised as if to pacify a wild creature. “And, if I may be so bold, your voice box sounds like it’s not your own.”

You wish to nod but only succeed in cranking your head halfway to the right, as if in a gesture towards your hapless situation. 

You wonder if they can see the ugly, rusty bolts pinning your body in place, holding you shackled to the ring toss game. They must, for the lunar face man slips closer, stooping down by your feet behind the barrier as he inspects the heavy metal securing you in place. The solar gentleman energetically leaps over the barrier and stops right beside you, hand on his hips. His shawl drapes darkly around him but his grin is bright like a new dawn.

You don’t dare hope. The niceness will fall away like a curtain to reveal the snarling, roaring beast behind it. They will strip you for parts or worse, mock you, revel in your helplessness, and slip back through the night, leaving you with only the daydream of a rescue.

Facing the sunny one, you hold your metaphorical breath as he pauses. He stares deeply into your optics. You stare back into the foggy gray irises he possesses, like a cool, misty fog gathering in the night only to be touched by the sun’s first rays of light. 

“Your eyes are beautiful—the same color as forget-me-nots.” The sunny automaton smiles.

Your servos slow to a calm hum.

“Come on,” he says and carefully reaches for your neck to begin unscrewing the bolt stuck in your throat, “You won’t be left to rust here anymore, starlight.”

Your insides melt, touched by their generosity.

Below, at your feet, the dark blue and silver automaton begins to unscrew the bolts holding your feet down. Rust scrapes away and a harsh squeak of metal echoes. You grunt, jostled but, strangely, you hold to hope like a feathered, tiny thing in your hands, hoping to watch it fly again. 

“We can fix your voice box,” the lunar one speaks in a slight rasp you find endearing. His gaze remains focused on setting you free. “We have a shop. We repair things sometimes.”

“That’s right,” the solar one chimes in, “We scavenge as well. Don’t worry, we’ve repaired a few automatons or two. You can trust us.”

When he pries the bolt from your neck, you can dip your head in acknowledgment. A strange sensation burns through your wires, heating you from the inside out. Emotion. You wish you could ask for their names.

“You look very delicate.” The one at your feet finally frees one of your porcelain slippers with a slow, cautious tug. “We’ll be gentle.”

He tilts his head upwards and flashes a grin. You find yourself warming in the face. Is he being a tease or does he not know how he sounds? By the mischievous glint in your eyes, you fear he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You try to pry your lips apart to find the right words, but all that leaves you is “Enjoy lots of fun! For a small price, of course!”

The automaton of yellow and gray hues glances briefly at you, tilting his heading in confusion while he begins to loosen the bolt stabbed into your right elbow. Holding his gaze, you speak with your eyes, almost pleading.

What are your names?

A spark of understanding answers in his pale optics, and he gasps.

“Moon, where are our manners? I’m so sorry, starlight! My name is Sun, and this is Moon.”

You dip your head again, bobbing up and down in excitement. You know their names. You haven’t learned anything new about anyone in so long…

When they free you from the ring toss game, you can hardly believe how the muddy path now leads you to the outside of the circus as Sun holds you gently in his grasp, how their strides are sure-footed and smooth, and how they look at you with concern.  

You vow silently to speak their names the moment your voice is free too.

*

You haven’t seen anything outside of the carnival in so long, you’ve almost forgotten the sight of dark, shiny paved streets and the lone lamp posts that light the way. Gray and dreary buildings line the streets. One, however, is cheerfully plastered in wooden stars painted bright yellow, and the door is a soft, sky blue with white fluffy clouds along the very top. 

Sun and Moon take turns carrying you. Their hands are careful, cradling you close against their cloak and shawl while murmuring that it’s alright. You’re safe. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. Moon cradles you in his arms now as Sun unlocks the door, and holds it open so you can be carried over the threshold. 

For an odd reason, it triggers your faceplate to heat up more than the colored rouge on the porcelain should allow.

Through the door, the interior of the workshop is set with tools ranging from smallest to biggest, shelves containing boxes marked, and small containers with different, shiny nuts and bolts. There are even some small containers with shiny, bronze gears. You haven’t seen a spotless floor in so long. There were always leaves and mud staining the path serpentining through the carnival. 

A table, coppery under a work lamp, awaits. 

“I’m setting you here,” Moon murmurs close to your audio processor before he lays you softly down with a gentle click of your frame against the metal. 

“I worry about how long you were left there.” Sun loses the shawl and locates a brown leather apron. Tools line the pockets as he swiftly ties it behind his back. His eyes are creased though he still smiles reassuringly. “By the amount of rust, I would guess years. For your sake, I hope I’m wrong.”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. What comes out instead is a showy voice declaring “Whoever can ring three bottles wins the ultimate prize!” 

A whirl in your servos practically screams out your embarrassment. You lower your gaze. The stiffness in your joints is almost as unbearable as the voice lines the circus owner forced upon you. 

“Shush,” Moon says, his cloak falling away as he snags an apron similar to Sun’s off of a hook. “Wait for a moment, pretty thing, then you may have your words back.”

“That’s right,” Sun nods and shifts to stand close beside you. He grows still for a moment, his bright disposition falling behind a somber cloud. “We’re very lucky to have found you.”

You smile—not the forced, showy smile that has been plastered on your face while you lie in the ruins, but a true smile for the ones who rescued you.

Moon moves to the other side of the table. His hands, now gloved in black leather, hesitate. 

“We will open you up now.” The automaton turns flush along the spindle support of his neck. “Is that alright? It’s the only way we can fix your voice box.”

Sun leans forward, his smile still cheery while he modestly averts his eyes, “As well any other damage done from being exposed and negligent for… however long you were out there.” 

You never thought the solar automaton could be shy, and yet. 

You nod your head as it rests on the table. You feel safe, so much more so than when you were bolted in place. The circus owner did not ask you what you wanted then.

Moon and Sun move in tandem. It’s strange and beautiful, how effortlessly they weave their fingers to begin work. Sun unlocks your chassis and Moon gently lifts it open. You throw your gaze to the ceiling. You don’t want to know. You know they will find it horrible and awful, but you don’t want to see it and have it seared into your mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Moon utters.

You blink, as breathless as a machine can become.

“Your clockwork—is very beautiful,” a slight stumble from his raspy voice seals your fate. You say nothing. You press your lips together and wonder if you might overheat right here and now. 

“You are pretty,” Sun continues effortlessly, though there’s a slight trill to his voice that may give away his nervousness or bashfulness, you can’t decide. “Clockwork automatons are rare.”

The circus owner made mention of that.

You close your eyes as Sun and Moon narrate their every movement. Hands held down by your sides, you only occasionally shift or softly buzz as they clean and fix your voice box nestled within the bottom of your throat. They are so gentle. You never knew hands could be so kind, even if they are rummaging through your inner workings. 

Could they possibly let you stay?

The absurd thought enters your processor and you almost immediately shove it into a box and bury it deep into cold, black soil. 

“You’re doing so good.” Sun grins as he looks down into your chassis. “There. That should do it. Moon?”

“I’m done.”

Slowly, carefully, as if finishing a sacred rite, the two close up your chassis and tighten it back into place. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. A part of you wonders if you’ll only look out into the ruins of the circus again, and find this was all one blissful moment of a daydream. 

“Can you say something, starlight?” Sun’s voice washes over you.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready,” Moon answers in a low sound of comfort.

It falls past your lips before you realize you are not ready, but you so terribly want to speak anyway.

“Thank you.” Your eyes flash open, and you gape—the echo. Your soft, demure tones no longer strained into shouting and calling attention. 

It’s you.

Your hand touches your lips, and a sound between a laugh and a sob emerges from your voice box. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” You look between the two of them, overwhelmed. With the overhead lamp now touching their features as they sit back, grinning, you get to admire their handsome features. 

You two are very striking.

“Oh, my,” Sun chuckles, bleeding red in the cheeks, “Thank you!”

“You’re very sweet,” Moon murmurs, touching his nightcap with a slight bashfulness.

And you realize you spoke your thoughts out loud. You called them striking.

“Oh,” you begin to burn.

“It’s alright,” Moon says swiftly, interrupting your apology. “We would like to know what your plans are after this. Now that you’re free.”

“Free,” you whisper back. You clutch at your chest, over your clockwork heart, and marvel. “I…”

You have your voice back. Use it.

“I—if I may be so bold, may I ask to stay with you both? I won’t be a burden. I won’t stay longer than you will allow, and I—”

Sun sighs, dramatic and cheerful, as he finds your hand to hold it. 

“I thought you would never ask, starlight!”

Moon’s hand slips under your anxious fingers. His nod echoes his solar counterpart’s enthusiasm. You turn your head between both of them, your lips parting in awe.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Sun. Moon. Thank you.”

[olderthannetfic]

www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/771823370694213632

You need the say the bit about the way canon treats characters way louder because I really think that the way the character is... framed, I guess? accounts for huge chunks of it.

I remember when the Disk Horse was about Finn vs. Kylo Ren from the Star Wars sequel trilogy and I got called racist for trying to point out that Finn was always framed as the comic relief/unserious by the canon. He has a character arc in the first movie, but his emotions and his trauma and his personality are mostly played for laughs (ha! ha! Black janitor guy is scared because he's a coward! - and him being a janitor is a change that came pretty late, he was originally meant to be the top of his class). OTOH Kylo Ren has the camera linger on his anguished face while sad music plays and he monologues about the moral conflicts that he's facing.

The average viewer/reader - especially in the case of visual media - doesn't really stop watching to form non-prejudiced independent opinions on every character (and really shouldn't if your narrative is well-constructed!), that'd take up too much of their mental bandwidth! They let themselves be guided by how things and people are framed, so of course they'd see Ren as Serious and Tragic and Finn as the funny guy, which is inherently less sexy to most people!

Same thing with F/F: when canon treats its women with any degree of complexity and gives them the sort of character traits that are conductive to blorbofication people are all over it!

My dash's been drowning in Rhaenycent for a year now, and that's a show that arguably sorta botched its female characters in the attempt to make them complex! But it doesn't matter, because they set up all these juicy dynamics and the fans are all over it!

Fans LOVE Claudia from IWTV even though the tragedy of her canonical role is that the guys always sideline her for each other.

I went to the Anora tag after seeing the movie and saw a bunch of Anora x reader fic in between the gifs the same way I did for Feyd Rautha from Dune or any other feral unhinged character fans love imagining themselves having sex with (and then blocked it lol).

Like, my taste in women and men is exactly the same but the large majority of characters that fit it are men, because we just don't get a lot of women who are composed, charming rogues on the outside and crippled traumatized messes on the inside, with a narrative that gives this sufficient weight, and also lets them be feral and unhinged. And I actually prefer minority characters because where I'm from I'm from a minority group myself, but again, most of them don't fit the bill personality-wise or framing-wise.

Fandom's a hobby and it's meant to be fun - I'm not gonna be constantly swimming uphill from what the canon is trying to present to me just because a character shares a demographic category with me. I think this is the case for most people, really.

--

My read on a lot of this is that people are sad about the status quo (fair) and are lying to themselves that the culprits are nearby where they can reach them.

If we confront the fact that the real source is the director or the cinematographer or the studio head, it all feels so much more insurmountable.

Of course, one can opt for niche, indie media, but a lot of people don't want to do that, so they fall back on this shitty coping mechanism of pretending that they can yell at the people around them and effect meaningful change.

[daddy-ul]

I FOUND SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO GO TOO!!!!!

-2 days to tallica concert movie(s)!!

Is anyone else going?

Me being me, this month I went on a "musical diet" and listened to Metallica as little as possible and avoided to hear the live version of the new songs-- so that I could Experience™️ the concert with some surprise? Djsjsjsjsjsj

✨✨ intricate rituals ✨✨

[transfemme-shelterdog]

could I get an opinion on this? (extremely transandrophobic and intersexist bingo board)

to clarify some of the vaguely iffy ones on here-

trans women often do get more visibility, positive or negative- (this does not correspond to violence rates)

male/female socialization as in people raised male or female have different, though not necessarily bad, perspectives + experiences.

guys/dude is generally gender neutral but if someone's uncomfortable respect that

this has like. 800 notes and most from transmascs that are agreeing with this sadly. the creator of this board is self described tme

I'll go point by point, left to right/top to bottom:

There's nothing wrong with they/them pronouns, or any pronouns honestly. This just comes across as exorsexist (which is on par for these people)

Wow, two points in and already contradictory. Honey, you're the one saying that you can't have a complex gender by shitting on people who are enby

The fact that I engaged once with these people just last night and I had self described TERFs in my comments and reblogs, shitting on me, and calling me a "he/him" and "male rapist" and other fun things says everything I need to know about this issue. I've never once seen a "transmisogynist" (read: transandrophobia poster) reblog from a TERF, and I'm very active in the disk-horse

Sis, you're the one shitting on trans men. These guys are just defending themselves.

You fuckers literally accused me of being a rapist/predator with a "laundry list of fetishes" who "has teen girls tell him about their fetishes", nice try

Ok, this is a complex one. Systemically, misandry (as used to describe cishet males being oppressed) isn't really a thing. Is there going to be individual instances of cishet men getting fucked by the system? Sure. But systemically, cishet men have a lot of advantages that others aren't afforded. That being said, we both know they mean "hatred of any men for any reason" which is bullshit. These people shit on trans men all the time.

Well, they are? They call trans men TME and trans women TMA and never apply it to cis people, thus it's just another sex based binary

We are? Just in different ways.

Refer to point 1 and 2, hypocrite

What's their point? So what's the minimum amount of examples that you need to prove a point?

I don't think any trans mascs say that, and those that would, probably would apologize and make an effort not to call a trans woman dude if she's uncomfortable with it. I do agree, it's not neutral, and hate being called it myself

My sister in christ, you likely use the term "theyfab"

n/a

Well, perisex trans women can't get pregnant, and trans men/mascs can, and have dysphoria around it. Not to mention corrective rape. It's a valid form of oppression that only affects perisex afab trans mascs.

Don't know of any zionist trans mascs, also did fucking TW make this?

Yes, you do, and you are. Good girl!

I've had these women hyperfocus on my kinks and shit on me for it. Never seen a trans dude do the same.

Yeah, well at least trans dudes are willing to fuck trans girls. Can't say the same for you lot (transhet t4t my beloved)

Yeah, we are hyper-fucking-visible. Look at any studies done on "trans people", and it's always trans women. Music wise? Typically all the traction goes to trans girls. Media? Mainly trans girls. Online? Mainly trans girls.

Really gonna act like you aren't taught "how to be a girl/boy" growing up? I know how to fit in with cis men, and easily boymode because of that.

Well, you can. This is Tumblr baby girl, make a post, tag it, and send it off to the world. I do it all the time, and people listen to me.

You girls are trans radfems and TERFs, sorry. Don't like the label? Change.

Isn't this the point you're making in the last box?

Trans men experience a shit load more misogyny growing up than trans women do after coming out. This is just a fact. Even more so in non-western countries (looking at you @that-satireguy my beloved non-western trans peep)

????????

[defjux]

Here are 81 of my favorite albums of 2024 If you noticed the lack of hip hop albums on here, that's because i already posted a separate list for hip hop which you can find here if you're interested. Chart with album titles included I probably listened to the Chelsea Wolfe album more than anything else here but the cure album was such a pleasant surprise for me that I had to put it as number 1. I thought it was a great year for music overall though. I'm really happy with the first few rows on here and those are for sure the albums i'd recommend the most, even though i think everything on here is worth checking out. If you believe there's something i might've missed or your favorite albums of the year aren't on here, let me know! Feel free to leave your own list in the comments, i'd be interested in seeing it. As always, i'll make it so the album titles are a hyperlink that'll take to wherever you can hear it. Peace. 1. The Cure - Songs Of A Lost World 2. Chelsea Wolfe - She Reaches Out To She Reaches Out To She 3. Iglooghost - Tidal Memory Exo 4. chat pile - Cool World 5. Frail Body - Artificial Bouquet 6. Whirr - Raw Blue 7. OKSE - OKSE 8. Blood Incantation - Absolute Elsewhere 9. Trauma Ray - Chameleon 10. Gouge Away - Deep Sage 11. drive your plow over the bones of the dead - Tragedy As Catharsis 12. Thou - Umbilical 13 . Moor Mother - The Great Bailout 14. Terry Green - PROVISIONAL LIVING 15. Krallice - Inorganic Rites 16. Nala Sinephro - Endlessness 17. Punchlove - Channels 18. Beth Gibbons - Lives Outgrown 19. Tenue - Arcos, bóvedas, pórticos 20. Crumb - AMAMA 21. Hammok - Look How Long Lasting Everything Is Moving Forward For Once 22. Infant Island - Obsidian Wreath 23. Meaningful Stone - Angel interview 24. Kamasi Washington - Fearless Movement 25. Arooj Aftab - Night Reign 26. Ulcerate - Cutting The Throat Of God 27. Camila Bañados - Viento 1. 28. Nilufer Yanya - My Method Actor 29. Oranssi Pazuzu - Muuntautuja 30. Mary Halvorson - Cloudward

31. Nails - Every Bridge Burning 32. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEAD 33. showmore - Liquid City 34. Blushing - Sugarcoat 35. Magdalena Bay - Imaginal Disk 36. Lip Critic - Hex Dealer 37. Joel Ross - nublues 38. State Faults - Children Of The Moon 39. geordie greep - The New Sound 40. Candy - It's Inside You 41. SATOKO SHIBATA - Your Favorite Things 42. Julia Holter - Something in the Room She Moves 43. Gigan - Anomalous Abstractigate Infinitessimus 44. Knoll - As Spoken 45. Jaubi - A Sound Heart 46. Cindy Lee - Diamond Jubilee 47. Blind Girls - An Exit Exists 48. Julie - my anti-aircraft friend 49. Milton Nascimento & Esperanza Spalding - Milton + esperanza 50. Hiatus Kaiyote - Love Heart Cheat Code 51. Isleptonthemoon - Only the Stars Know of My Misfortune 52. Liana Flores - Flower of the soul 53. SML - Small Medium Large 54. Maruja - The Vault 55. Spirit of the Beehive - YOU'LL HAVE TO LOSE SOMETHING 56. Fievel Is Glauque - Rong Weicknes 57. Leaving Time - Angel in the Sand 58. Rita Payés - De camino al camino 59. TURQUOISEDEATH - Kaleidoscope 60. Babii - Daredeviil2000 61. Jessica Pratt - Here In The Pitch 62. HERIOT - Devoured by the Mouth of Hell 63. Dim - planted in the soil 64. Contention - Artillery From Heaven 65. Convulsing - Perdurance 66. The Body & Dis Fig - Orchards of a Futile Heaven 67. Uboa - Impossible Light 68. Melt-Banana - 3+5 69. DIIV - Frog in Boiling Water 70. Amiensus - Reclamation: Part 1 71. Ginger Root - Shinbangumi 72. Hannah Frances - Keeper of the Shepherd 73. Ravyn Lenae - Bird's Eye 74. Garden Home - Garden Home 75. Aara - Eiger 76. graywave - Dancing in the Dust 77. Martha Skye Murphy - Um 78. Mo Dotti - opaque 79. Luna Li - When a Thought Grows Wings 80. Pluma - Não Leve a Mal 81. Twine - New Old Horse