#source: angels in america

[rockabye-billy]

Somewhere amidst post-Starcourt recovery...

[magnvmopus]

we have reached a verdict, your honor. this man's heart is deficient. he loves, but his love is worth nothing.

prior.

[angelhareincorrectquotes]

*Cut dialogue from Case 3*

Jonah: I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Jonah.

Zag: I don’t care.

[weareuniqueandimportant]

Abuser Bigot Say Animals Can't Cnsent And Then Justify Killing Them Or Stealing Their Wool.

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x angel!reader

Chapter 1: The Song is Ended (But the Melody Lingers on)

Chapter Warnings: Murder, Mentions of rape, Death

The song is ended

But the melody lingers on

You and the song are gone

But the melody lingers on

Masterlist

"Have you ever been in love, Alastor?"

The radio static screeched to a halt. Charlie winced at this, covering her ears.

"What brought you to question this, dear?" Alastor asked after recovering from the initial shock, his ever-present grin looking a bit strained.

Charlie chuckled awkwardly. "Well..," she pointed at the pendant that hung around his neck, sitting atop his garments, "I see you with that beautiful pendant around your neck all the time and you're very protective of it.... so I was just wondering," she trailed off.

Alastor let out a laugh, "Oh my dear, this is nothing," he lied, "Love. What a ridiculous notion!"

Charlie could not help but not believe him, but she let it go anyway; bidding farewell to the radio demon to search for her girlfriend.

Alastor was left alone in his thoughts. His hands reached up to touch the little trinket he sought to wear religiously around his neck.

No, this wasn't nothing. This was everything.

As he walked through the halls of the hotel to reach his room, his mind lingered on you. You were the one who gave him this pendant. You were the one who stole his heart.

Yes, he was in love once. Still is.

He remembers the time he met you- when you became his safe haven. He remembers when you had to leave, far from him and he could do nothing about it.

He also remembers meeting you again- the memory etched in his mind.

It was a bright sunny morning in Louisiana. Alastor was in his studio, narrating the tragic news of the New Orleans Boogeyman striking again. This time, hunting down and killing the nation's "hero", the son of a military veteran. Arnold Miller had followed in the footsteps of his father and had joined the army. His brilliant feats of achievements served as a source of inspiration for every lad in America, more importantly in New Orleans, since it was his place of origin. To everyone else, Arnold was a good soul, always ready to help out people, never backing down from serving the nation he loved so much.

Everyone, except Alastor. Alastor knew of his true nature. Arnold was accustomed to luring in girls - often against their will- taking their dignity, ripping them to shreds, and leaving them to pick up the pieces in front of the ever-scrutinizing society. He used to brag about his "escapades" to his pals, unafraid that anyone would turn against him. Everyone loved him after all. Moreover, he saw no fault in his actions.

Alastor was more than willing to show him his flaws. He regretted not taking care of him earlier, jeopardizing the safety of so many women. But at least he was gone, having faced the end of Alastor's blade. No one would have to deal with another scum like him anymore.

His radio show went on as usual, after the initial murder reports.

He talked about the daily humdrum around the locality, cracked a few jokes on the ever-changing economy, and suggested stores that sold excellent formal wear. This was a routine he'd come to love during his time as a radio host. He was satisfied with the predictability of his shows, and his life by extension.

All in all, he was happy with the hand he was dealt with.

"That is all for today, folks! Be sure to lock your doors tonight and refrain from walking alone at night. You never know when the Boogeyman might jump up behind you!" he chuckled, "And don't forget to smile! You're never fully dressed without one!"

He turned off his feed and sighed as he slumped against his chair. He couldn't wait to go back home already. His ma, although sick, had pestered him to never skip a day of his work. She'd told him he looked miserable whenever he did skip work and she wished nothing but happiness for him.

He assured her that he was happy to stay at home to take care of her but her stubbornness knew no bounds.

"I suppose I do get my grit from her," he wondered.

He took off his headphones and stood up from his chair, stretching his long limbs in the process. He started cleaning up his station, when suddenly he heard a knock.

"Come in," he said, not looking up at the opening door.

"Mr. Alastor!" a chirpy voice greeted him.

It was the young lad he had hired for the smooth running of his little business. Oliver had been thrown to the streets having been unable to pay his rent and Alastor had found him shivering in a corner of the street. Taking pity on him, the radio host offered him a job and a place to stay near the studio. Since then, Oliver had become a rather loyal help to him. Had it not been for his astounding marketing skills, Alastor's radio show would've been far from popular.

"Ah, Oliver!," Alastor hummed, still not looking up at him. He was rather busy making sure his studio was left prim and proper, "Do tell me, how can I be of service?"

Oliver was jumping with excitement, "Well, remember we were having a chat on how the radio station needed a few more hands to handle it, given its booming popularity?"

Alastor hummed as he repositioned the antiquities his mother had gifted him when he opened his studio.

"Well, I found someone willing to take on the ever-daunting task!" Oliver exclaimed and stepped aside, "Meet our newest employee!"

Alastor, still stuck in his own world didn't look up until he heard a sweet voice ringing through.

"Greetings, Mr. Alastor!"

His hands paused for a second. This voice... he'd recognize it anywhere. He turned around abruptly and finally looked at his overexcited acquaintance and the recently recruited employee.

It was you. His breath got caught up in his chest.

"Salutations," he said softly, his mind still not having caught up with the fact that you were in front of him, alive, "May I ask what your name is?"

You uttered what he had wanted to hear. His eyes could not believe it. After all these years, he was finally able to see you. The very person who'd become his safe haven when he was young, the person who'd comforted him during those dark times- when he ran away from home, when he felt scared and alone, the person who'd given him the pendant he wore religiously around his neck before they left.

"Oliver, " he glanced at the boy, "Do go get them a drink. It is quite unsightly for us to not treat the newest addition to our business."

Despite your protests, Oliver nodded his head and ran out the door, eager to please his boss.

When the door closed shut, Alastor let out the breath he was holding in since he saw your face.

He muttered your name, "Dear, is it really you?"

Your eyes blinked for a few seconds before they scrunched up with your growing smile, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten me, Al."

Alastor laughed in disbelief, "Forget you? What utter nonsense. Forgetting you would be a sin so great that even Lucifer would shy away from it."

He slowly approached you, "Besides, " his hands went up to the pendant, "How could I afford to forget when you gifted me this?"

Your eyes shone and you giggled, "You still have that!" Your hands reached out to touch the pendant, but you hesitated and they stayed frozen in the space between the two of you.

Before you could apologize for invading his personal space, his hands drew yours closer. You stumbled forward, placing your hands on his chest, right over the pendant that lay atop it. You blushed at the sudden proximity. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you close. You dared to look up at him.

"By golly, you seem to have gotten much taller," you chuckled, pushing up his glasses that had slid down the slope of his nose, "Last I remember, you were still shorter than me."

His eyes and smile had grown softer, far from his usual demeanor.

"And you still look as beautiful as the day I lost you."

As if your face couldn't possibly get more heated, he managed to make it boiling hot. You tried uttering a response but stuttered halfway through. Taking pride in how he made you speechless, Alastor asked, "When did you arrive here?"

You finally found your voice, "O-oh, I just moved in yesterday! I needed a fresh new environment after having finished my schooling and I decided to come here. I was looking around for a job this morning when I stumbled upon Oliver and he offered me a position at your radio station!"

Alastor tsked, still holding you close, "Cher, you cannot just accept some stranger's proposal for a job. What if he lured you into something dangerous?"

"He told me about your radio show and I trust you with my life so...." you trailed off, looking sheepish.

Alastor chuckled as he shook his head. Letting go of you, he stepped back to pick up the coat that was hanging on his chair. Just as he was doing so, the door burst open to reveal Oliver with a piping hot kettle and a mug.

"I do apologize. Mr. Alastor here only likes drinking coffee so we have no other beverages available," Oliver explained, as he placed the utensils down on the nearby table.

"That won't be necessary now, dear boy," Alastor continued, "I'll be showing them around our city. Do keep the studio prepared and the articles ready for the evening broadcast."

And with that, he offered you his arm, "Shall we?"

You grinned and looped your arm around his and the two of you walked out, leaving behind a very confused Oliver.

"What just happened-"

Alastor's smile widened at the memory. He vividly remembers spending every waking hour with you beside him, now that he'd found you again. He had grown terribly attached to you, but you did not mind it one bit. You enjoyed the attention he showered you with and his company was something you looked forward to each day.

Oliver always joked about the two of you getting together. So it wasn't a surprise to him when you two eventually started courting each other. All he did was lament about being the miserable third wheel.

Alastor remembers how his daily "escapades" had reduced significantly with the more time he spent with you. He did not even realize that fact until the newspapers reported on the disappearance of the New Orleans Boogeyman.

His smile had strained when he'd read the article, his anger growing by every second. How dare they think of him as a coward?

However, all those thoughts dissipated at the sound of your voice. Oh, how you had captured his mind, body, and soul.

He introduced you to his ma soon after he started courting you. Although she couldn't see you properly, given her ailing health and age, she still welcomed you with open arms.

As he stopped going on his "hunts" frequently, his relationship with you grew stronger. You were there with him in every new chapter of his life. When he celebrated his 100th broadcast, you were there celebrating with him. When he experimented with his own twist on his mother's jambalaya, you were right there tasting his creation. When his mother eventually passed away, you were right there comforting him as he sobbed into your shoulder.

On his 30th birthday, you gave him a gift he'd treasure for the rest of his life. He had been complaining about how only one of his eyes had problems with vision and that wearing a pair of glasses proved to be detrimental to his other healthy eye. Taking that into consideration, you had gifted him a monocle. You apologized for how small the gift was and told him that he could return it if he wasn't pleased with it. He had silenced you with a kiss.

You were all he thought about. A life with you beside him was everything he wanted. That is why, he stood there in front of the jewellery shop, inspecting and choosing the perfect ring to propose to you with.

When he was satisfied with his pick, he had stored the little box inside his coat pockets. Oh, how he wished his ma was there to witness all of this. She had always wanted to see him married to someone, happily living the rest of his life under the love and care of his spouse.

Things were just perfect, more than ever before.

Until karma came knocking on his door. Literally. His dead heart still pains at the memory.

Alastor had never lost control of his life after he "took care" of his father. He prided himself on that. It was the control he was after, once he landed in hell and that is what made him a formidable overlord.

But the day he lost you? He'd never felt more helpless.

Alastor brushed some dirt off his clothes as he hummed to the tune of the radio playing in the background. His calm demeanor would fool most but he was undeniably nervous.

Today was the day he would ask you to be his, forever.

Alastor had called you to the little cabin he'd bought in the forest, which also served as his hunting ground- be it for deer or despicable humans.

No matter the atrocities he committed, one could not deny how beautiful the forest looked at night. Fireflies would scatter across the expanse of the land, making nighttime all the more lovelier.

Alastor had planned to get down on one knee with the night sky lit by stars and the glow from the fireflies. He believed it would be the perfect romantic atmosphere to propose to you.

Not long after, he heard a knock at the door. His smile grew impossibly large as he giddily opened the door. Instead of seeing you, however, his face was met with the end of a gun.

"See you in hell, murderer."

Alastor quickly ducked out of the way, letting the bullet whiz past him and hit the wall. The man who held the gun let out a grunt, displeased that his shot missed. Although the man was twice his size, Alastor was able to tackle him to the ground. Still, the man would not let go of his gun, leading the two of them to struggle for the weapon.

"You fucker- you deserve to die for what you did!" screamed out the man.

Alastor let out a laugh, his face looking strained, "I just did what those scums deserved."

In the middle of their struggle, the trigger was pulled once more and Alastor heard the gunshot. The bullet missed him again, this time shooting toward the entrance of the cabin. He hadn't looked away from his opponent for a moment, fearing he'd take advantage of the situation and kill him. However, his ears picked up a singular gasp.

His eyes widened as he looked towards the door, left ajar.

It was you.

Bleeding out of your skull.

Your eyes were wide as saucers, staring at Alastor. Your body trembled as you slid down the door, blood profusely dripping from your head and onto the wooden floors of the cabin. Then, with a loud thump, you fell back, taking your last breath.

Alastor felt his soul leave his body.

no...no...surely this was a dream, right?

Taking advantage of Alastor's vulnerability, the man shoved him aside and got up on his feet, pointing the gun at Alastor.

"Too bad the little missus had to go. It wouldn't have happened if you did not do what you did," the man sneered.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Alastor took ahold of his gun and with all the strength in his body, pushed it out of the man's grasp. The gun flew to the side of the cabin, leaving the man unarmed.

Alastor stood up slowly, his facial muscles stretching in a maniacal grin. The man backed down slowly, his body trembling slightly.

"YOU. MADE. A. GRAVE. MISTAKE."

With that, Alastor pounced on the man and started beating him relentlessly, laughing all the while. He did not stop till the man's face had become red and blue beyond recognition and his chest stopped heaving.

Silence enveloped the cabin. In it was Alastor- his hands covered in blood, and two bodies. Alastor walked away from the dead body of the man and moved towards your lifeless figure.

Despite his maniacal grin still present, his eyes welled up with tears as he held your body close. His heart throbbed with immense pain and his mind turned foggy. All he could do was cry into your shoulder, wishing this was all a dream.

The night he was supposed to end with you as his spouse-to-be had now turned into him burying the love of his life. When he was done, he reached out for a stone and carved your initials on it, placing it atop your grave. He sat there for a while. His hands reached into his pocket and he pulled out the ring. He placed it on the stone.

His chest pained as he walked away from your grave. He would come back soon, he just had to dispose of the scum that decided to take his light away from him. Just as he started to turn the wheelbarrow that contained the remains of the man, he heard another gunshot.

This time, it did not miss.

Alastor fell to the floor of the forest. He sidled up to your grave painstakingly, abandoning the wheelbarrow. Blood poured rapidly from his head. Those god-awful hunters had shot him under the cover of this grim night. He somehow managed to rest himself against the tree that was situated right beside your resting place.

"Oh cher, " he wheezed out, "I suppose I wouldn't mind dying next to you."

As if things couldn't get worse, he heard the growls of the hunting dogs close by. His grin widened. So this was how karma came around, taking everything away from him. All that was left was himself.

His bleary eyes followed the imposing figures of the hunting dogs as they surrounded his dying body.

He reached out his hand towards the pendant.

Alastor couldn't even scream when the beasts tore into his body.

"Alastor?"

The radio demon turned towards the princess of hell, her hands laden with plans for the hotel.

"Yes, dear?"

Charlie hesitated, "You seemed a bit lost there. Are you ok?"

Alastor let out a laugh, "Just as jolly as the day I came to hell. Haha!"

Taglist: @yumiburrito , @candyladycry , @sleepykittycx

[nicoline1998enilocin]

When I'm with you, I feel like I'm home

PAIRING ⇒ Girlfriend!Natasha Romanoff x Girlfriend!Florist!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT ⇒ 1.5K

SUMMARY ⇒ Getting married is something Natasha has not even considered until she met you and fell head over heels in love. Now, it's all she can think about; she wants nothing more than to call you her wife.

RATING ⇒ Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS ⇒ Established relationship ~ Girlfriends, use of pet name (Printsessa, Detka), tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N ⇒ This one-shot is my first attempt at writing for my favorite Russian spy and assassin, Natasha Romanoff! A part of this story is based on this Instagram reel, which is the perfect opportunity to put it to use. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this; you're an angel 💜

EVENTS Masterlist ⇒ @fluffbruary ⇒ Engagement Masterlist ⇒ @anyfandomaubingo ⇒ Florist!Reader Masterlist ⇒ @lgbtqbingo ⇒ Free space

Banners: Yours truly ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ GIF: Source

Main Masterlist ⇒ Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

The day you met Natasha is engraved into your memory as one of the happiest days in your life because even though you didn't know it then, she would become a more significant part of your life than you could have imagined.

It's a slow day in your flower shop, but it's nice to take a break from the rush you always have during summer and early fall - also known as peak wedding season. There are still weddings throughout the rest of the year where you will be providing the flowers, and you have an appointment today for one of those.

A few fresh bouquets are now proudly standing in the front of the store, waiting to be picked up and gifted or put in a vase and be the center of attention in every room they'll be standing in. There's still a little time before your appointment, so you get a binder with different photos ready, sweep the floor, and tidy up the rest of the store.

Not much later, the tiny bell above your door rings, and you turn your head to see a long, broad-shouldered blonde man and a small but equally strong-looking woman next to him. You instantly recognize them as Captain Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, and Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow—two of the original six Avengers.

''Hi, and welcome to Blooming Garden!'' you say in a cheery voice as you put the broom to the side, ready to greet them properly for their appointment. As you approach them, you take in Natasha's slender form, and you can't help but feel a warmth coursing through your veins and settling on your cheeks as you shake Natasha's hand and introduce yourself.

Her eyes roam over your body, admiring the dress you're wearing. It is a very flattering dress, perfectly accentuating every curve of your body. When she looks at your face, she can't help but feel like she's looking at an angel, as your soft features instantly make her feel like she came home. Your soft, pink lips give a graceful smile before you lead the way for the appointment, which is over too soon for her liking.

Steve paid the down payment for the flowers they had chosen, and after one last goodbye, they walked out of the store, leaving you behind with a bit of an empty feeling in your chest, like something was missing. It turns out Natasha had the same feeling, too, and not long after, the little bell rang again, and she walked back in, this time with her number written on a small piece of paper.

''If you want to go out for coffee sometime, you can text me on this number,'' she says before quickly running out the door again and on her way to her emergency mission. She couldn't leave without leaving a piece of herself behind, afraid she would never see you again if she didn't go back. Ultimately, she's thrilled she did indeed go back.

That same evening, you sent her a text, and even though it took a few days for her to reply, your heart skipped a beat when you saw her name pop up on your phone screen. You met for coffee and even went on a few more dates after that until you couldn't take it anymore, and you asked her to be your girlfriend.

You're visiting Natasha at the Avengers Compound today, and even though all the Avengers knew you and Natasha were friends, they didn't realize just how close you two were. They accidentally walked in on both of you as you asked her to be your girlfriend.

She's seated on the couch, her back against the plush cushions of the large piece of furniture, and you're straddling her lap with both your knees on either side of her legs. Her fiery red hair hangs loosely around her head, and you can't stop running your hands through the soft locks. Her hands are placed on your waist as she occassionally tickles you, pulling a fit of giggles from your chest that she will never get enough of.

''Nat, stop! I can't ask you to be my girlfriend if you keep tickling me!'' you say between giggles, and when you notice her eyes going wide, you instantly realize what happened.

''A-Are you- I mean, you want to be my girlfriend?'' Natasha asks, a hint of insecurity laced in the way she phrases the question. Your face drops at her words, and you guide your hands to cup her cheeks, looking straight into her eyes as you carefully express your following words.

''Yes, I do want to be your girlfriend, more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. Being with you makes me feel like I can be myself, and life is just a little brighter with you around. Whether we're hanging out together in my flower shop or doing silly things anywhere else, there's no one I'd rather want to do that with than you, Nat. So, what do you say? Will you make me the happiest woman in the world and be my girlfriend?''

She looks at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes, and she nods her head before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss that has both your hearts soaring. At that time, you didn't realize all the other Avengers had an entire show because they were curious about the giggling from the living room not long ago.

They all start clapping and whooping in excitement, and you pull away before burying your face in Natasha's neck, a broad smile adorning your face. From that moment on, you two are practically inseparable, and being away from her during her missions is always a challenge, but the reunion is worth it every single time.

Nearly four years later, Natasha plans to take the next step in your relationship. She never thought about getting married, but you have shifted something inside her that has her wanting to call you her wife. Whereas she previously never cared about anyone that deeply, you have shown her a love she never even thought existed, and she wants to bring your passion to the next level.

And so, after a few long months of planning, the day has finally arrived. The engagement ring is in the pocket of her jeans as you're taking a stroll over the beach in Florida, where you're currently for a weekend getaway together. Your fingers are laced together, and your sundress flows in the soft breeze from the ocean.

''Printsessa, can I talk to you about something?'' Natasha asks as she stops you in your tracks before going to stand in front of you. The sunset casts a beautiful light over both of you, and Natasha's hair has a fiery glow, making her look even more stunning than usual.

''Of course, is something wrong?'' you ask with furrowed brows, but she kisses your lips softly to calm your mind before starting off her story.

''Some souls instantly click. Words can't quite explain whether you're lovers, best friends, soulmates, or something so special. You accept this person for everything they are, and they would never let you be anything other than your beautiful, imperfect self. These are the souls you encounter and know in the first moment that you were supposed to cross paths,'' Natasha starts, and there are already tears welling in your eyes as you realize what's happening.

"Your presence makes me feel safe and calm like I am home whenever I'm with you. You're undoubtedly the most special I've had the privilege to love - no distance, time, or person could come between our bond. Your kindness, softness, sincerity, and unconditional love make me feel better because life is better with you in it. Your soul is my happy place, comfort, sunshine, and everything, and I could not imagine life without you in it. And because of that, I want to ask you something.''

Natasha lets go of your hands before wiping away some of her tears, sinking on one knee after getting the ring out of her pocket. The sunset casting an angelic glow over you makes the moment perfect.

''Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest soul in the universe and become my wife?''

''Yes, Detka, I will marry you!'' you exclaim, and when the ring is put on your finger, she jumps up and wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a breathtaking kiss that has your heart going a mile a minute from pure excitement.

When she pulls away, the realization sinks in, and the happy tears can't stop flowing down your cheeks. You're going to marry the love of your life, and you can't wait for the entire world to know how much you love each other. Life was great before you met Natasha, but this moment completes it.

You both continue your walk down the beach, walking into the sunset together. Today marks the start of the rest of your lives together, and you can't wait to see what life will bring your way.

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 1

Propaganda:

Rintarou -

"Has a special interest in science and will do anything to indulge in it. Has many strange mannerisms and will only drink his favorite drink."

Baki -

"Special interest in fighting and doesn't give a fuck about anything else except for his friends. Kidnaps fucking George Bush and asks him if he can put him in the biggest prison in America because he wants to fight people there. Literally goes to jail for his special interest. Autism."

Yoshi -

"look at him. he is Autism: The Character. The game deals with how he was ostracized for "weird" behavior and it got down his self esteem so bad that he calls himself trash and if you look at how he struggles to interact with others i.e. low social stamina (game's hit points are literally his psyche), struggle to control his emotions intense passion about subjects of interest etc etc he reads as immensely autistic and his arc of learning to love himself and find people who love him for who he is is so. very important to me <3 my dear favorite autistic scrimblo.

also look at him. his design is the trans flag colors. what's not to love here!! he likes bunnies!! he made those bunny ears himself, even. in 1BeatHeart, he made cat ears for his friend. i love his 1BeatHeart design also because in that game he's an Adult and STILL unabashedly himself, showing that he took those lessons from his childhood to heart! an autistic adult having some degree of pride in himself, being renowned even if he's still seen as odd, and being content and having friends. aurgh."

Steve -

"Uses his autism for evil! Is obsessed with vampires and wanting to become one but has so many compiling issues that he eventually becomes a key player in a supernatural war. Took it as a personal betrayal when his best friend had to become a vampire to save his life."

Yuuto -

"source: trust me bro."

Hatchi -

"Has a special interest in food and often lets it cloud his judgement. Is very bored of life at the beginning of the story but doesn't understand why. Does things others see as strange or reckless because he thinks it would be fun."

Keiichi -

"He is surrounded by people who speak in codes and euphemisms that he cannot understand based on social rules that he is not privy to."

Ayato -

"evil autism (/pos)"

Yuzuru -

"he is best boy!!!"

Amuro -

"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."

[hellishattempt]

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 - the girl in new york

cr sybbatra on twitter, sourced from pin

🢥 summary : celebrity!au gojo satoru and rumours swirling around your established relationship, 3.1k words 🢥 series includes : choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru, gojo satoru and nanami kento, part one of five 🢥 content : celebrity!au, gn reader, angst mostly, established relationship, cheating, paps being an ass, lying, use of baby/love/darling and other pet names, song cr goes to nessa barrett, not proofread lol kinda just wrote this instead of studying for exams. don't like the ending, but i never do. 

 . . . GOJO SATORU SEEN WITH ANOTHER WOMAN AT NYFW was not the headline you wanted to wake up to. it was a lazy saturday morning, and you didn't have any plans for the day. your boyfriend, the prominent gojo satoru, was currently in new york for fashion week. you had been dating for almost a year, having met a little over six years ago at club heaven in los angeles on his birthday by pure accident. the japanese born model had been dragged to america for his twenty first birthday, and spilled his drink on you. he hasn't left the states since. he's established himself in the modeling world, and fashion week was the busiest time of year for him. being a singer / songwriter yourself, you had quite the busy schedule. your bustling schedules were part of the reason it took so long for you and satoru to get together. there was mutual pining, but you both spent so much of your time in different cities and airports, that there seemed to be no point in it. but geto made a joke that if satoru didn't bag you, then he would, and that about did it for satoru. sure, dating hasn't been easy, but you've made it work. satoru had moved in with you in your luxury apartment in the hills of los angeles, though neither of you were there often. after all, you were both a lister celebrities. everyone knew your names, especially the paparazzi. 

neither of you were big fans of the paps, satoru especially. you tried to show grace, after all, they were just trying to do their jobs. but their jobs were to be nosy and wrongfully invade your privacy. there were always headlines about you and satoru, the rumours and scandals never seemed to end, but for some reason, this one hit home. your phone read 10:01 a.m. you were in your los angeles apartment, so you were three hours behind satoru. you didn't have any notifications from him, which was weird, because he usually made a point to send you a good morning text before you woke up, no matter what timezone you were in. even if it meant satoru had to set an alarm for two a.m. so that you would wake up with a "good morning, baby," then he would set an alarm. in fact, the only notification you had was a text from shoko, with a link to the article. "have you seen this??" her text read. you clicked the link and it opened a separate page for people magazine. it took all your strength not to roll your eyes. people was your number one enemy when it came to tabloids. they always fabricated such stupid things, so you didn't think much of it at first. still, you read the article word for word. 

"gojo satoru was seen today eating lunch with fellow model, iori utahime, at new york's own per se. gojo and iori have been friends for a while now, but are they more?" you scoffed, adjusting yourself in your large bed, continuing on. "gojo and irori are currently in new york for fashion week, and were photographed outside per se for a late lunch before tonight's opener. the photos were quickly posted, and the response was a mix of emotions. in the string of photos, we see gojo and iori sharing a laugh... while holding hands? in a few, his arm was tightly wrapped around iori's waist as he escorts her out of the restaurant. a few nights prior, photos had of gojo and iori sharing drinks at an elite club on eighth had been released, where they seemed more than friendly. that same night, the took shared a taxi, stumbling into the hotel together. social media shares our reply: has gojo's partner seen this and what do they have to say about it?" the article was short and sweet, but it did the trick. the photos had been attached, as well as a slew of twitter posts. #satohime was the third trending tag on twitter. tears stung your eyes as you white-kunckled your phone in your hand.

you were torn between believing and not believing the article. you knew satoru would never cheat on you, but the evidence was right in front of you. he was out with another woman, someone he's known longer than you, holding hands and wrapping himself close to her. you'd never met utahime, but satoru always returned from fashion week, brimming with stories about her that made him laugh until his stomach cramped. you knew they were close, despite only seeing each other twice a year, they'd grown up together. you tried to tell yourself that maybe it was just a rumour, photos taken out of context. after all, it wasn't anything drastic, like a vulgar makeout video, but it still made you sick. so you did the only thing you knew hot to when it come to your emotions: you wrote a song.

. . . NEW UPLOAD : THE GIRL IN NEW YORK flashed across gojo satoru's screen. it was a youtube notification for your channel. he frown slightly at the words, wondering what you were thinking about when writing this. he was at work right now, so he silenced his phone. satoru would listen to the song on the cab ride back to his hotel. he hadn't heart about the people's magazine yet, despite it being published six hours ago. satoru had been so busy with the fashion week presentations and rehearsals, that lunch with utahime had been the first time in a few days he'd left skylight clarkson. in fact, he'd been so busy, that he'd forgotten to charge his phone the night before. it was currently charging, thanks to utahime letting him borrow hers. satoru felt bad for failing to send you a text, but surely you'd understand if it was just one time. utahime wasn't a model like satoru, instead a manager for one of the labels. fashion week in februar and september were some of the only times they saw each other anymore. every february they swore they'd try to see each other more that year, but sepember would always be the second time they saw each other that year. their schedules just didn't allow for it. and even though satoru was a major pain in the ass to utahime, she prized his friendship. they made a point to spend as much time together during fashion week as possible, hence the drinks and lunch.

when the night had finally ended, satoru was exhasted and couldn't wait to return to his hotel bed. it wasn't as good as sleeping next to you, but he could fall asleep on a bag of dirt at this point. satoru stumbled into a taxi, giving the location of his hotel, and pulled his phone from his bag. it was charged now, and your youtube notification sat prettily on his lockscreen, which was a picture of you laughing with your head thrown back. satoru fumbled in the dark of the cab to find his headphones, finally pairing them to his phone and playing the song. "bags in your hand as you kiss me, tellin' me you're gonna miss me. promised me you'll be on you best behavior." your sultry voice entered his ears as the song started slow, a gentle piano and slow guitar riff. "gave me your flight information, call me when you land, say you made it. sweet little me told you, 'go have a good time.'" the song picked up the pace, transitioning into the pre-chorus and chorus. "i didn't mean forget about me, riding in a yellow taxi. who the hell are you on your way to?" satoru was almost too tired to notice the lyrics. almost. "you said i was yours, but maybe just on the west coast, cause as soon as you left home, you got wandering eyes.

"so i guess you lied when you called me special. you're not as smart as you think you are. who the hell is she, taking you from me?" as the song continued, he was more awake with every bar. "fuck you for making me crazy, while you buy her drinks out on eighth street." were you talking about utahime? wait, did you think he had done something? satoru was so confused, consumed by your obscure lyrics. the song ended too soon for his taste, none of his questions being answered by your final line. "baby, i know about the girl in new york..." your voice faded, his headphones going silent. having reached the hotel, satoru rushed to his room, immediately opening his laptop to do some digging. his phone had been silence all day, and when satoru opened his messages app to see if you had said anything, he was instaed hit with over three hundred texts from shoko and suguru. neither sounded happy with him, while satoru still had no idea what he did. before even acknowledging their texts, he went straight to your conversation. "darling, what's going on with your new song??" he typed out quickly, then added, "not that i don't love it! just kinda confused." he watched as delivered turned to read, which resulted in those damn three dots making two additional appearances before completely disappearing. satoru let out a groan of frustration, going to google and searching your names together. the first thing that popped up was an article from people magazine. "gojo satoru seen with another woman at nyfw." the headline read. fuck, how he hated the paparazzi.

satoru skimmed the article, not pleased with what he was reading. his confusion dissipated into annoyance, both towards you and the fucking paps. you always told him to be nicer towards the media, they were just trying to their job, but these fucking rumours were getting out of hand. how dare they make you think he would ever cheat on you? satoru didn't suffer a friendship with you for five years while being enamored with you every action for one damn article about him and utahime. all of those pictures had been taken out of context. the one where they were holding hands? utahime had tripped on a sewer grate and satoru had reached out so she didn't fall flat on her face. the one with his arm around her waist? they were both completely shitfaced and barely standing on their own. the ones about them at the club and the taxi? satoru can handle a drink or two, but uta gets hammered after two drinks, so of course he was going to take her back to her hotel and make sure she got up all right. that's what friends are for. but now, thanks to the media, he's got a lying article, pissed off friends and a song tearing him to pieces written by the love of his life, who may not ever want to see him again. great, just fucking great.

he dialed your number. you declined it before the first ring. he did this four more times, with you rejecting the call instantly. on the sixth call, there was no rings, and an automated voice responded, "i'm sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not in service or temporarily disconnected. please try again later. good bye." oh my god, you fucking blocked him. irritated with you, the media and with himself for making you feel so insecure, he scrolled to his group chat with shoko and suguru. neither of them were happy with gojo. he didn't bother to read all their messages, he got the gist of it. satoru hastily responded, "i didn't fucking cheat. the article's lying. one of you need to tell them that because i'm fucking blocked." he sent the message, standing in a silent fury. a moment later, satoru threw his phone at the wall with a yell. the device bounced off, falling onto the hotel bed. there was a small dent in the wall nothing extremely noticeable, and his phone was fine. "fuck," satoru breathed, sinking into one of the chairs in his room. he held his head in his hands, mind racing with what to do. an idea formed in his frustrated mind. it was stupid, but it was something. satoru grabbed his jacket and his phone from the bed, storming out of the hotel.

. . . THE SOUND OF SOMEONE POUNDING ON YOUR DOOR pulled you from delirium. groggily, you checked your phone. it was just past four am. who the hell would be at the door at four in the morning? you rolled over in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. they didn't. they just kept beating at the wood. with a groan, you rose from the mattress. a headache slammed into you as you stood, and you had to sit back down to steady yourself. the last eighteen hours hadn't exactly been fun. after you uploaded "the girl in new york", you had turned your notifications for everything off. although, every five minutes you checked if satoru had texted you. when he finally did, you didn't know how to respond, the images from the article flashing across your mind and filling you with sickness and sadness. you had been out all day, drinking and trying to forget. after getting kicked out of two bars, you went home, where you drank more. throughout the night you emptied the contents of your stomach and eyes, vomiting and crying more than what felt humanely possible. it felt like you had barely lied down when the knocking began.

when you had mustered the strength to stagger your way to the door, you wished you had stayed in bed. a red eyed, messy haired, heaving gojo satoru stood at your door. neither of you spoke. what was there to say? he had cheated on you. you had retaliated with an exposing song. or maybe he hadn't cheated on you, and you simply misunderstood. either way, what had happened, happened. as far as you were concerned, he was here to beg for your forgiveness. you began to shut the door, but he stopped you. with a sigh, you let him in. it was his apartment, too, after all. you wobbled to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and pouring yourself a glass of water. satoru watched you in silence. "well?" you croaked out. "come to apologize? gloat?"

"baby..." he whispered, stretching his arms out to you, but retracting when you took a step back. satoru took a breath, steadying himself. "i didn't cheat," he stated plainly. "i know you think i did. but i didn't. uta is just a friend. i've never thought of her that way, and i'm never going to think of her like that. i'm not dating her, i'm dating you." his words sounded slightly reheards. he must've been practicing on his flight here. it dawned on you that it was four in the morning in los angeles, and seven a.m. in new york. satoru was missing fashion week, here, trying to fix things. a flight from nyc to la was just over six hours, so he would've had to get on a plane by one am est. he had texted you just after eight fifty p.m. pst, so eleven fifty new york time. which means almost as soon as he heard your song, he was on his way to the airport to fly to you. "please baby, you gotta believe me. those paps fucked everything up, the photos-"

"are they fake?" you cut him off. "the photos. are the fake? photoshopped or otherwise edited?"

gojo slightly squirmed, "well, no, they're not edited, but they were taken out of context." he rushed out the last part of his sentence. "please, love, just hear me out."

he looked like a disaster. satoru's normally bright irises were dim, the usual joy gone. he looked sleepless, violent violet bags forming like bruises under his red-rimmed eyes. his fluffy white hair was flat against his forehead, matted and lifeless. he was still in his work clothes, with his favorite blue jacket hanging open on his shoulders. satoru looked like he hadn't ate or slept in the last eighteen hours. maybe it was how pitiful he looked maybe it was how much you still loved him. but you nodded your head, allowing for satoru to explain. his sigh was audible, and some color returned to his eyes.

"okay, first, i love you so fucking much. i've loved you since that first night we met into the bar six years ago. if you don't forgive me tonight, or ever, i'm still going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the hurt that i've cause you from that stupid article. i didn't cheat on you, not with utahime or with anyone else. i spent five years trying to work up the nerve to ask you out, i'm not going to let you go easily." satoru meant every word he said, his tone convinced you of that. "second," he continued, "is that the paparazzi are always pulling things out of their asses, we know this. the first photo they talked about, the one with me and utahime at per se, where we were holding hands? her heel had got caught on a sewer grate, and uta tripped. i grabbed her hand to prevent her falling on her face, which honestly, would've been funnier." you chuckled lightly, and a smile formed on satoru's lips. from his perspective, this was going much better than he had anticipated. "the next photo with my arm around her waist, utahime was so drunk, she could barely stand. i was pretty drunk, too. we were the only ones keeping each other up. same with the pictures of us outside the club on eighth. i wasn't as drunk in that one, but she was pretty hammered. i didn't feel comfortable just sending uta off in a cab back to her hotel. something easily could've happened to her, so i went back with utahime to her hotel. nothing happened between me and her," satoru finished. quiet settled over you two again as you contemplated his words.

everything he said made sense. you wanted to believe him so badly, but you weren't there yourself. "okay," you said slowly, after what felt like an eternity to satoru.

"okay? wh-what does that mean? does... does that mean you believe me?"

you took a deep breath. "i believe you."

those three words were all he needed to hear. satoru rushed over to you, his body engulfing you in a crushing embrace. "oh, thank god," he breathed into your hair. when he pulled back, his blue eyes were shining once again. satoru almost kissed you, forgetting his exhaustion, but your hangover still gripped at you. you winced at his strength, your arms hanging limply at your side. satoru whispered out an apology, guiding you back to bed. before you both finally found the sleep you desperately needed, you mumbled, "i'm sorry about the song."

satoru laughed quietly, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "don't be, i think it's your best one yet."

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Black Obsidian

Black Obsidian (The Regal Warrior of Stones)

Color: Black, Dark Brown

Hardness: 5-5.5 (softer than quartz)

Rarity: Easy to Acquire

Type: Igneous Rock (Comes from a Volcano)

Chakra Association: Root

Angel: Uriel

Deities: Pele, Tezcatlipoca, Itzpapalotl and Sekhmet

Element: Fire, Earth

Astrological Signs: Sagittarius, Scorpio, Aries

Planet: Saturn, Pluto

Origin: Anywhere with Volcanic Activity

Powers: Protection, Grounding, Clarity, Releasing Blockage, Drawing out Stress, Creativity, Divination and Scrying, Negativity Banishment, Transformation and Absorption

Crystals It Works Well With: Howlite, Malachite

How is it Created: Obsidian is a black volcanic glass, formed when molten lava hits cold water or air and solidifies. It is composed of silicon dioxide (quartz) and many impurities which allows it to take different shapes and colors. Black obsidian gets it coloring from iron and magnesium.

History: The earliest obsidian tools can be dated back to the Oldowan, at the dawn of the Paleolithic/Stone Age (2.6 million- 10,000 BCE). Different origins of this rock can be found in Britain, Italy, Mexico, and the USA. In Egypt, obsidian knives were used in ceremonial circumcisions, as well as making mirrors (scrying mirrors for most) and other decorations in tombs. The word “Obsidian” was first used by a Roman explorer, Obsius, who “discovered” it in Ethiopia. In the Americas, Obsidian was used as a symbol of Tezcatlipoca, the chief god of the Aztec religion. Tezcatlipoca means “smoking mirror” which is why a lot of the Mayan priest used the glass rock for scrying mirrors like the Egyptians did. On the Eastern Islands, obsidian was used to make the eyes of the Moai statues before they were lost. The indigenous tribes of North America used pieces of obsidian to make arrowheads, spears and even knives by using an antler in order to carefully form different shapes.

What It Can Do:

Grounds the soul and spiritual forces into the physical plane, making it possible to manifest more spiritual energy

Increases one’s self control

Forces you to face your true self

Brings imbalance and shadow qualities to the surface to release them

Repels negativity and disperses self-hating thoughts

Powerful meditation aid

Great for scrying and divination as the glass allows you to look to see the “clear truth”

Can heal you after a spiritual or mental attack

Was used in the past during ritual for healing physical disorders

How to Charge:

Sit with the stone in the palm of your hand and enter a light meditation. Use your thoughts to charge the stones with desires of protection and make sure the thoughts are clear and concise.

Use high vibration to amplify the crystal

Use a singing bowl to send sound energy into it

Place it in a bed of Himalayan salt and let it sit for 48 hours

If you work with a sun or moon deity, I have noticed charging it in the sun or moonlight with the idea of protection helps to charge it as well

How to Cleanse:

Run under water (not hot just lukewarm) for a minute

Create a saltwater solution and submerge it for up to 24 hours

Burn herbs or incense over the obsidian with the intention of cleansing (I personally use sandalwood incense for this)

Leave your stone under the full moon to cleanse and retrieve in the morning

Bury your obsidian in your garden for 48 hours

How to Get the Best Out of It:

Wear a black obsidian bracelet. The wrist area is a highly energetic zone because it has nearly direct access to the bloodstream. This (in my opinion) is the best place to have obsidian to create a powerful shield and help with manifestation.

For lighter dosage, use an obsidian ring.

Crystal Grid:

Letting Go (Triangle Grid)

Mantra: “I release everything that no longer serves me”

Center Stone: Smokey Quartz Tower

Secondary Stones: Obsidian, Malachite, Rhodonite, Citrine

Best Moon Phase: Waning or Dark Moon

Best Day: Saturday

Sources

[quicquam-dot-com]

Why do americans call it tuna fish?

SO I WENT DOWN A RABBIT HOLE (unsurprising if you know me) about why americans (and ONLY americans) call canned tuna "tuna fish". If you look at Wikipedia's page for tuna, it'll tell you that it's because the german for tuna sounds like tuna fish. That doesn't make sense, given people in wildly different regions (for example, Connecticut and Louisiana) were calling it tuna fish in the 70s, and why ONLY americans call it tuna fish. It had to be something other than that.

So began my search. In my research, I found that tuna only started being sold to americans in cans in 1908, further strengthening my thought that it couldn't just be because german. After about an hour of fruitless searching, I realized if it's only americans, it had to be something that wouldn't have escaped much past the bounds of america. Advertising in american magazines. I somehow managed to land on an etsy listing for an ad for White Star tuna FISH from the 1930s, and off I went.

The earliest written evidence I could find (not a professional researcher or historian at all) of the use of the phrase "tuna fish" was in a 1919 court case regarding labels between the Southern California Fish Co. and White Star Canning Co., which describes the White Star label as saying "tuna fish" on it. I then found other (White Star) ads (and a can label) from the 20s, 30s, and 50s (I can't find the one from the 50s but I swear I saw one), and then an ad for Bumblebee tuna from the 70s that says "tunafish" on it. So there we go. Advertising in american magazines. I don't know why White Star decided to include the fish, but it seems like they're the reason we do.

(It's a little hard to find much useful information on the White Star Canning Co, both because White Star is the name of the ship company that had the Titanic (so you gotta include the canning part and that might be limiting out some relevant stuff) and also because the White Star Canning Co was merged in 1922 with the company that became Chicken of the Sea)

Sources:

https://iiab.me/kiwix/wikipedia_en_all_maxi_2022-05/A/Albert_P._Halfhill

https://casetext.com/case/so-cal-f-co-v-white-star-c-co

https://www.palosverdespulse.com/blog/2021/6/25/it-tastes-like-chicken-how-local-canneries-marketed-fish-in-a-can-by-marifrances-trivelli-director-los-angeles-maritime-museum

https://www.etsy.com/listing/608947310/retro-printable-tuna-advertising-from-a

https://www.ebay.com/itm/186146432914

https://www.ebay.com/itm/143760191768

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Van_Camp

[rockabye-billy]

I’ve no idea in what circumstances these two could meet, but the urge to give Billy more of Prior’s lines was too strong. 💜

[rate-every-bat]

If you haven't done it already, you should rate the Hoary Bat 💞 They're my favourite and I would love to see your opinion on them

Absolutely, let's do it!

Today's Bat: Hoary Bat

The Hoary Bat has always put me in mind of a little powdered donut. There's an abandoned mining cave that's been turned into a museum and nature preserve in my area, and bat spotters frequently find these frosted babies hanging out there during the summer. I'd really love to spot one in person, but for now, I'll settle for this precious picture:

Environmental Impact: The Hoary Bat has an incredibly wide habitat range across North and Central America, even reaching as far as Hawaii. With such a wide range, it's no surprise that they've split into several subspecies (which is so, so cool). They migrate from north to south in the autumn, or hibernate for short bursts using a "butt blanket" and torpor state to withstand cooler temperatures. Interestingly, they predate several pest species, but have a relatively restricted diet compared to other North American insectivorous bats. These guys also catch rabies fairly frequently, which is another hit to their score here.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Beauty: Oh, these guys are angels. Their wide faces and perfectly round eyes make them look like Precious Moments dolls with wings. Their coats, multi-colored with a delicate white frost, are the peak of winter fashion. I can't think of a single thing that would make these guys more appealing... top marks!

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

Power: Hoary Bats are largely solitary throughout the year. Upon mating in the autumn, the female retains sperm in her reproductive tract. She'll reserve it all winter, and come spring, she will fertilize her eggs and give birth by early summer. Delayed fertilization allows them to choose whether or not conditions are right to rear young, and controls for their generally lonesome nature. I first learned about this ability with bears, and I continue to find it fascinating. I will have to deduct points from the Power score, however, for their decidedly anti-clean-power stance: their leading cause of mortality is striking wind turbines.

🦇🦇🦇/5

Overall: This upcoming summer, hit your local mine. Maybe you'll find a Hoary Bat... or me, with a camera.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇/5

(Today's sources: Animal Diversity Web, Bat Conservation International)

(PS: I couldn't find a convenient spot to mention this, but the Hawaiian Hoary bat is actually endangered. They're the only remaining native land mammal in Hawaii according to the National Parks Service. BCI lists some conservational efforts, which I'd recommend reading up on and advocating for if you're able. Thank you!)

[simoneashleyedits]

EXCLUSIVE: After breaking out with her lead role in the second season of Netflix’s smash hit series Bridgerton, Simone Ashley has moved on to star in This Tempting Madness, a new indie directed by Jennifer E. Montgomery, from her script written with husband Andrew M. Davis, which just wrapped production in Los Angeles.

A first look still from the pic, marking Montgomery’s feature directorial debut, can be found below.

Inspired by a true story, This Tempting Madness is an elevated psychological thriller about a young woman (Ashley) who awakens from a coma grievously injured, memory fractured, her husband arrested. But as she puts together the pieces of her past, she starts to question her own actions — and her perception of reality.

Producers include Montgomery and Davis for their Smoke Jumper Films; Mango Monster Productions; Jessica Malanaphy and Marcei Brown for CatchLight Studios; and William Day Frank. Coming from a background as a cinematographer, Davis will also be lensing the film.

In the second season of Bridgerton, based on the hugely popular Julia Quinn romance novels, Ashley was introduced as Kate Sharma, who’s courted by Viscount Anthony Bridgerton (Jonathan Bailey) upon her arrival in London from India. For a moment snatching the record of the most-watched English-language series in Netflix history, with 251.7M hours viewed in its first seven days, the season was celebrated for breaking a race barrier with Ashley’s character, whose ethnicity was changed from the books so that her family would be of Indian descent.

Set to reprise the role in Season 3, Ashley has also recently appeared in Disney’s live-action reimagining of The Little Mermaid, as Ariel’s sister, Indira. Otherwise best known for her role as Olivia on Netflix’s BAFTA-winning series Sex Education, she also boasts credits including Pokémon Detective Pikachu (Warner Bros), Broadchurch (BBC America) and C.B. Strike (Cinemax), to name a few. The actress is represented by Identity Agency Group, CAA, and Myman Greenspan Fox.

Montgomery and Davis are repped by Anonymous Content.

Source: Deadline

[morlock-holmes]

The Last Psychiatrist's book came out, which led me to two reviews, both of which call him out for saying stuff that is obviously crazy but both of which also contain incredibly bizarre statements just tossed out there with seemingly no self-consciousness about whether they are just as odd as anything TLP has written:

I'm just going to ignore those parts of Scott Alexander's review that are like that to focus on a pet peeve:

(The Bible describes very clearly what angels look like. Everyone agrees the Bible is the authority on angels, maybe the only primary source for them at all. All Western culture for 1500 years has been based around the Bible. There are hundreds of millions of people who take the Bible completely literally and read it every day. The Bible says - Revelations 22:18 - that if anyone changes the Bible in any way even by a single word they will be punished with eternal torture. And yet nobody’s mental image of an angel, nor any popular artistic depiction of an angel, has anything in common with the Biblical description. This is the highest-grade antimeme I feel comfortable using as an example; if you don’t see the fnords they can’t eat you.)

I mean that's... that's just definitely not the case.

Alexander links to this review by Zero HP Lovecraft (Whom I am unfamiliar with) who says,

I want to explain some things to you now that you probably feel deep in your bones but probably haven’t found the time to articulate. Whenever someone talks about “capitalism” like it’s a hostile alien living among us, they are either wittingly or unwittingly agitating for communism. They may not even realize it. Everyone feels some measure of discontent in their life and the lazy, fashionable scapegoat for this in current year america is “capitalism.” If you blame capitalism for your problems, no one will take it personally, and many of the other monkeys around you will make agreeable noises. But there is exactly one group of people who blames all their problems on capitalism, and that is communists. If you blame your problems on capitalism, you are a communist. If you talk about “late capitalism” or “late stage capitalism” you are (possibly unwittingly) claiming that the return of Christ glorious worker’s uprising is nigh, repent repent, every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Georgius Christ is Floyd. There are two ways you can try to get out of this: the first is “yes, and” and the other is “no, but”. If you’re part of the first group, you’re irredeemable. Communism, much like being a woman, is a congenital condition, and it can’t be cured, though sometimes you can treat the symptoms. If you aren’t a communist, but you scapegoat or criticize capitalism, then you are at the least participating in communism, but it may not be your essential nature. The slur for these people is “neoliberal” — a word that means someone who likes communism in theory but is just slightly too pragmatic to ever get past second base with her. You’re the ones I’m trying to help. We can tell TLP is in this second group because although he talks about capitalism, he saves his worst vitriol for “the media,” which is a right wing dog whistle, just like talking about capitalism is left-wing dog whistle. When a man is sending you mixed signals, it means he himself is confused.

This is more batshit than anything that he quotes from TLP.

I'm trying to figure out if this means:

"Capitalism" is a word that refers to every possible human economic system other than communism, such that by definition the only possible alternative is communism;

"Capitalism" and particularly "Communism" are not specific historical economic systems, but in fact names for the exactly two economic systems that can exist;

Current technological or political realities ensure that it is literally impossible to create any economic systems other than capitalism or communism at this particular moment, such that opposition to one is de facto support of the other

The first two would be bizarre, and even the last is, uh, contentious but reading further this guy wasn't pulling a schtick, he's just a depressing John Bircher who knows that if he pretends that he's giving you some secret post-normie secret insight we'll just forget everything about American history. Guys, did you know that blacks are inferior to whites, and more criminal, that only super insightful insight porn writers have ever come up with such an out-of-left field crazy idea that no american normie could ever actually believe?

Honestly, fuck this depressing fascist. His ilk are going to be running the country soon, complaining about how hamstrung they are as they march people into camps. It's amazing how good he is at selling the most normie American bullshit as, like, forbidden knowledge that only the most enlightened masters have cued into.

Honestly his opinions seem to be:

Men have been feminized, and that's bad;

White racial pride has been atenuated, and that's bad;

Trans people are mutilating themselves, and need to be stopped;

Blacks are more criminal than whites, and need to be controlled

But sold as, like, this forbidden knowledge that only somebody as smart as him could come up with. It's amazing how these people will see a finger-wagging leftist and then decide that said leftist must be running American politics.

I am poorer for having read this dumb bitch.

[lokisasylum]

BTS Jimin's 'Face' becomes the first Korean solo album to receive RIAA Gold Certification

Jimin of BTS opened a new chapter in K-pop by capturing the world's largest music market, the United States, with his first solo album 'FACE'.

Jimin's first solo album 'Face' sold more than 500,000 units in the United States on June 5 (local time). This is the first non-English (Korean) album by an Asian solo singer.

As a result, Jimin's first solo album 'Face' received the honor of receiving gold certification from the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).

The title song 'Like Crazy' of Jimin's solo album 'Face' sold more than 1 million units in the United States in August 2023 and received RIAA 'Platinum' certification as a single song, but was certified in December due to a belated application by the agency. Acquired.

Immediately after its release, 'Face' ranked 2nd on Billboard's main album chart, 'Billboard 200', the highest ranking for a K-pop solo singer, and the title song 'Like Crazy' ranked 1st on Billboard's main single chart 'Hot 100' and 1st on the 'Artist 100' chart. Above, he became the first K-pop soloist to reach the top spot.

In addition, Jimin's three solo songs 'Filter', 'Serendipity Full Length', and 'Lie' sold more than 500,000 units and achieved RIAA Gold certification, along with 'Set Me Free Part 2' and 'Angel Part 1'. 'We are close to selling 500,000 units. A total of 12 sound sources, including 6 of Jimin's sound sources, exceeded 100,000 unit sales in the United States, proving his extraordinary sound source power.

As of June 5, Jimin's 'Like Crazy' has been on the US Spotify Daily Top Song Chart for 227 days, making it the highest-ranking K-pop song and the only Korean song. 'Face', with all of its songs exceeding 100 million streams on Spotify, is recording a total of 2.183 billion streams as of the 5th.

Meanwhile, Jimin's 'Face' ranked 11th on the Billboard 'World Album Chart' in the latest chart of the American music media Billboard (as of June 8), charting for 56 weeks, achieving the longest entry record for a K-pop solo album. . 'Like Crazy' also charted at number 196 on the Billboard Global Chart (BILLBOARD GLOBAL Excl. US) for 61 weeks, extending the record of being the longest charting song for a K-pop solo song.

[suppermariobroth]

In June 2019, Nintendo of America commissioned a painting company to create a hand-drawn mural of Super Mario Maker 2 in Los Angeles that was changed daily to a new scene for three days. While the murals appear to be printed screenshots from a distance, zooming in reveals the brushstrokes.

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