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autumnmobile12 · 2 months

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The League of Morons vs A Summer Camp

All right, so I love the hell out of this nonsense and I want to talk about the Vanguard's plan and how ridiculous it was.

First, most of the crew showed up a night early and…well, then what? That first night, Dabi says they’re still waiting on a few more people to arrive. Okay, so what are you all doing here already?

Did Kurogiri warp them back to the bar after they’d gotten a look at the place? Scouted the area a bit? You needed seven people for that? Were they that bored waiting for Twice, Compress, and the Nomu to show up? What were they doing in the 24 hours between this part and the actual attack? Standing on that cliff and muttering, “Heroes…”?

Was Toga all, "Guys, I'm tired. Can we go back to the bar already?"

Spinner: "No, as villain protocol dictates, we must stand here menacingly for a minimum of twelve hours."

Dabi: Fuck you, I'm going to bed.

Except for being a scare tactic, having Dabi start a fire was mostly unnecessary. Their goal was to further weaken society's faith in heroes by targeting UA students, so you'd think he'd be a little more proactive in...well, actually harming someone. As it happened, the fire really only to served to announce there was an attack happening.

But I’ll throw the Vanguard a bone here and say this was Spinner’s doing. Like their original plan was to start a massive fire that would consume both classes and all the heroes in a singular tragedy, but then Spinner said, “Hey, pump the breaks, people. We’re here to uphold Stain’s ideals about toppling the corrupt Hero culture. Do we really want mass child murder as part of our brand?” Sure, he wanted to go after Iida, but he was a specific target since he was on Stain's hit list.

The two copies Twice made of Dabi were virtually useless in a fight since Vlad and Aizawa both took him out so quickly it was embarrassing. And yet he’s apparently a big enough threat that No. 1 and No 2. can’t handle him. Go fig.

Endeavor/Hawks: Oh, no, he’s too strong…

Aizawa/Vlad: Listen here, you little shit!

...

Muscular goes and reveals their plan even though he didn’t have to. They all saw the Sports Festival, they knew what Bakugo looked like, and yet here he is asking Deku where he he can find Bakugo as if he was going to answer him. Yes, he didn’t think there was any harm in telling him since his plan was to kill Deku anyway, but alerting UA to the fact they were looking to kidnap someone is still just hubris.

Going after Bakugo in the first place was a dumb idea. We can probably credit that one to Shigaraki because only he would look at the violently temperamental teenager raging on national television and think, “Yes, he seems like a reasonable person to negotiate with.”

...

Gonna drop in some actual light criticism here: Given the inequality issues that arise in the series later, targeting the heteromorph students for recruitment purposes would have been a smarter move for the LoV. They’re all part of a demographic that has a justified reason for being dissatisfied with society, so there would have been a believable chance of the LoV thinking they could sway some people to their side.

But hey, the League of Villains was on a learning curve. Give 'em a break.

He totally saw Aoyama here. Or at least he heard him because he clocked that there was something weird about that bush and he was going to go check it out…and then Twice distracted him and Dabi has an total ADHD moment and forgets what he was doing.

And it's not because Aoyama was the spy. Nobody in the Vanguard knew.

1.) Shigaraki says he tried and couldn't figure out where the camp was, but AFO figured it out relatively quickly. So if even his successor doesn't know who the spy was or called on that resource, then why would AFO tell anyone else in the group?

2.) Moonfish, Muscular, and Mustard were all apprehended, but none of them ratted out Aoyama, as someone with nothing left to lose would. Neither did Kurogiri when he was later apprehended, but that one may have been a loyalty matter. So I think this was a case of AFO saying, "I have a source of info and you don't need to know who it is." Because at the end of the day, AFO is an arrogant narcissist who's definitely not placing all his eggs in one basket. Aoyama wouldn't be an easy spy to replace, so of course AFO would want to limit any chances of him being exposed.

So this was Dabi's screw up.

Speaking of forgetting things, Dabi also straight up forgot they had a Nomu because he thanked Twice for reminding him they had a Nomu.

Sir....how the hell do you forget you have a Nomu?

Toga was supposed to get blood from at least three people. She failed.

Twice had a simple job. Create clones. He succeeded, but the only two he made were Dabi and I refer you to the previous point on how useless they were.

Spinner and Magne’s roles were a diversion. Distract the Wild, Wild Pussycats and give everyone else the opening to find and kidnap Bakugo.

They did pretty well. Up until the point they were almost caught and Kurogiri had to bail them out. Also Spinner lugged the giant, over-the-top blade contraption all the way there only for Deku to destroy it.

However, they do deserve some credit for making probably the best strategic decision of the group that night, and that was taking out Pixie Bob. We saw on the first day of the camp that she was able to hold back a class of twenty students with an army of earth creatures she was simultaneously controlling. That would have been a huge problem, so for the purposes of their team, good on them for removing that obstacle.

Underrated squad members right here.

Mustard was a legitimate threat for same reasons Dabi and his fire was a threat, plus he brought a firearm into the fight. (I want to know what the other villains thought when they saw that.)

But instead of putting him in the center of the fight where he could do some significant harm, they placed him on the outliers and all he did was knock some students unconscious and everybody made a full physical recovery, showcasing the gas he emitted wasn’t all that lethal and didn't cause any long-term complications. (Again, maybe this was Spinner's idea of Stain's ideology on not indiscriminately massacring children. "Guys, I'm telling you! That's fucked up!")

The Nomu (effectively brain dead without orders) did more damage than any of them, which makes the previous point that Dabi forgot they had it even funnier.

And finally, Mr. Compress was missing for half the night and then almost came in clutch by fulfilling their main objective plus extra credit, only to nearly blow it with his showboating. Seriously, they could have gotten away with both Bakugo and Tokoyami had they just booked it while the going was good.

But no, Compress had to make a dramatic production of it. When he first snatched the kids, he could have just left and Deku and company would have had no idea what happened. Had he just kept his mouth shut and left, they wouldn't have known he even existed. Then as the Vanguard members were leaving through the warp gates, he goes and does it again, giving Aoyama enough time to fire at them with his navel laser, something that also could have bee avoided had Dabi just checked the fucking bush!

The Vanguard Action Squad won by sheer dumb luck and their collective incompetence actually succeeding is the most hilarious thing about this arc. In the end, three members of their crew were arrested. (Although I think everyone was secretly relieved they lost Moonfish. Even if he was on my side, I’d be actively worried that guy would kill and eat me in my sleep.)

Yet this self-important twerp is smiling like they actually did something to be proud of here. All Dabi really accomplished personally was grab a marble (coincidentally the correct marble) before Shouto could, which is borderline more standard older sibling behavior than actual villainy. He literally lost two separate fights in one night and called it a win.

This arc was a five episode Scooby-Doo trap going wrong and succeeding.

Seriously, I hope that after the warp gates closed, they all just looked at each other and immediately started calling each other out on everything. Like Dabi slapped Compress upside the head and asked him what he'd been thinking having 'one last bow' before they got away. Spinner yelling at Dabi about how the clones did nothing. And there's Bakugo all, "I can't believe I've been kidnapped by a gaggle of morons."

Fake it till you make it at its finest.

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onedaughterofman · 2 years

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Sin (Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)

Summary: Papa teaches you how sins are meant to be celebrated: on all fours, right in front of him.

Tags: +18, explicit adult content, Papa Emeritus being a manwhore manipulator, rough sex, oral sex, altar sex, overall blasphemy, religious references, religious trauma, some priest kink here. Around 2.4 K words. Reader is gender neutral.

Disclaimer: I wrote this thinking about Terzo but I guess it works with others too. Minors DNI pls.

“Please forgive me, Papa, for I’m afraid to sin.”

The crucifix sits heavy between your clenched hands. One by one, your fingertips stop on the beads, mentally recalling all those ancient prayers to the Lord below. Still, nothing releases the guilt that clings to your ankles and legs, that snakes up until it grabs you by the neck.

Inside the confessional booth, it’s impossible to see Papa Emeritus’ face. He remains silent, deadly so, to the point you begin to wonder if he’s there, if he can hear you.

“This is my first time confessing to you, Papa,” you continue, gathering a deep breath. It feels as if the air contains no oxygen, no richness to it. No matter how much you try to fill your lungs, it’s never enough.

The guilt. It’s all about the guilt, in the end. It consumes you right to the core, making it hard to get up the bed and do your work around the Clergy. Truth is, even if the veil covers your hair like a cold blanket, you have doubted whether or not you belong here. Previous experiences with religion have made you wary, bitter even.

This is supposed to be different, to release you from guilt and resent, from the trauma. This is your freedom now. Something you have to pursue, but it’s so hard when everything weighs so much on your body. A part of you is afraid Papa might be angry. The idea of him yelling and dragging you out of the chapel almost forces you to your feet, ready to bolt. You’ve barely interacted with him during the black mass, accepting the communion with an open mouth and open heart.

For a long moment, Papa states nothing. His voice is a low rumble when he speaks up, words laced with such kindness that it takes you by surprise. “Is that so?” He says, and you feel him leaning closer on the grille that separates both parts of the box. “And why?”

As much as the shame burdens your tongue, the words manage to escape through clenched teeth. “I don’t know,” you confess, the crucifix shaking in your hands. “There’s something I desire, but I’m fearful of it.”

Over the silence of the chapel, his words are too loud. They make you flinch. “Step out of the booth, please.”

Taking shaky steps, you obey. Standing right in front of him, his mere presence causes you to feel so small, so insignificant in the face of the chosen one. “Walk with me,” he instructs, a warm hand lingering in the small of your back, steering you into the dark.

You stop at the grand altar, right in front of the colored glass of the windows. The artwork is beautiful, intricate. Papa points to it, an open hand directing your gaze. “Do you know why we are here, standing in the open? Because there’s nothing shameful about having desires, and wishing to fulfill them.”

Contrary to what you initially believed, his voice is gentle, soft. His gloved hands ghost over your waist, fingers barely grazing your clothes. Yet, the touch delivers electricity down your legs, igniting sparks in your guts.

“Every time you desire something, that’s Lucifer’s voice whispering in your ear. It is only a matter of listening to his guidance, of trusting in his wisdom. There’s nothing wrong with sin, we were born from it, and were liberated from the clutches of tyranny thanks to it," he continues. "Good and evil are nothing but options humanity has. Satan has gifted us knowledge and sight. He gave us freedom to chase and fulfill our deep desires as we see fit. So, I ask again. Why are you so afraid?”

The question is something you have been pondering for years by now. Why are you so afraid of yourself, of your needs and wants? Why do you keep denying yourself, hiding? Is the real you ugly, sick and perverse?

Or is it merely free of preconceptions, of fear of judgment?

Even if there is not an answer inside your mind, you do your best to reply. “I’m ashamed, Papa. I’ve been told my desires are… impure, tainted. I know what I want, but I don’t know if I'm strong enough to get it.”

“It’s okay,” for a long moment, Papa Emeritus stays silent, contemplative. ”There’s a veil on your head, but you’re not wearing the habits. Have you taken your vows?”

“No, Papa. I’m lost.”

“That I can see. I see how lost you are, how much you’re hurting. Tell me, do you want me to make it better? Do you require me to show you how to enjoy a luscious, pleasant life?”

Right now, there’s nothing you desire more. You’re desperate, so thirsty for any kind of relief, willing to do anything to find a place to belong in this world. Breathless, the words escape your mouth like a confession. “Yes, please”

Papa smiles, a spark deep inside his eyes. “Then, let’s do it now. Let’s perform the oaths together. This shall be your communion.”

You hesitate, guilt gripping you by the calves, clutching your arms behind your back. He notes it. “If shame is what anchors your feet, then let me be the one to carry it for you. If you can’t take a full step forward, then take half, for I’ll meet you right in the middle.”

And half a step is what you take. “Oh, Papa,” you say, falling to your knees in front of him, nails clinging to the robes. “Please, instruct me. Be my guide into the darkness.”

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, extending his hand. “I’ll show you the way. Do you trust me?”

Against all reluctance, you do. “Yes,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. His leather glove is warm, soft under your skin. Papa offers you another smile, tighter this time. There’s a glint of something in it, something deep and dark, full of lust. It feels as if you’re making a deal with the Devil himself, as if you’re forfeiting your body and soul to Satan.

Even if that’s the case, what bliss runs inside your veins.

“We’ll silence your doubts together. There’s no better place to do it than here, right in the altar in front of the eyes of the Lord. This will be an offering to him and a lesson for you. Sin is to be celebrated, my dear. We’ll celebrate together as one.”

Escorting you right to the middle of the altar, Papa holds your hand and kisses the back of it. In a gentle but commanding tone, he orders you to take off your clothes. Slowly, button by button, the clothes fall to the floor. The cold air hits your exposed skin, sending shivers up and down your spine.

Papa’s eyes follow the curves of your thighs, the softness of your abdomen and your chest before stopping in your face. His hand cups your cheek, thumb slowly caressing over the bone.

You’re shaking. Either from the cold or the shame, it’s hard to tell. It’s not easy to stand bare and naked in body and soul in front of this man, in the middle of the chapel. Anybody could walk inside and see you, see everything.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Papa speaks up. “There’s no need to feel shame. Is this your first time doing something like this?” He asks, tilting his head.

The answer is yes. You’ve never done anything similar. Old, past experiences can’t compare to this. This is sinful, blasphemous, so dirty. Getting fucked in a church, by a priest… is scandalous.

And so, so exciting.

Nodding, your eyes fall to the floor as the heat of blood rushes to your face and chest. “Don’t worry. The inexperience, that is what makes me tremble,” he confesses, leaning closer until he’s whispering in your ear. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

Papa’s first order is to kneel before him. The wood is unforgiving under your knees, so cold on your feverish skin. Your neck strains when you look up to him, wide eyes burning on his face. From this angle, he almost doesn’t look human. Instead, he’s divine, irresistible in a way that shouldn’t be possible. There’s no doubt he is the chosen one, the one blessed by Satan.

The leather of his glove tastes bitter. Papa’s thumb presses down on your tongue and on your teeth, thick saliva coating the material. Your eyes follow the movement of his other hand, see the way he undoes the buttons of his pants. The outline of his erection is clearly visible, even through the layers of clothing.

“Let’s begin with the rites. You’ll receive your communion now.”

Papa’s skin is so warm. The precum leaking from his dick is salty, a faint aftertaste on your taste buds. His hands are on your head, one on your cheek and another on your hair, to keep you steady as he begins to thrust.

The movement is slow, controlled, but you still feel your gag reflex activate as he hits the back of your throat. Breathing deep through your nose, you focus on his abdomen, on the open robes and the embroidery on the under cassock.

He is big, so heavy on your tongue. Your hands curl on your lap, sharp nails digging on the plush flesh of your thighs as a way to keep you grounded. Papa is gripping your head, thrusting hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure without a care in the world.

The sight of his face as he looks down on you makes you moan, throat vibrating with the sound. He grunts, one of his big hands falling down to your neck and squeezing, not enough to choke, but enough to make you feel it. You gag, tears falling down from the corner of your eyes, getting lost somewhere on your collarbones.

Finally, when his muscles are tense and his mouth is agape, Papa stops. Pulling out, the tip of his cock traces your lips, smearing spit and precum. His fingers grab your chin, tilt your head up so you can look into his eyes. “You’re good, so good”, he praises. “Doesn't it feel satisfying, to indulge in your lascivious desires? Don't you want to get fucked, here in the altar? You’ll enjoy that, si?”

There are no words in your mouth, only his cum. Nodding eagerly, you follow his instructions as he backs away, letting his robes fall behind. “On your fours,” he commands, pointing at the stained glass that adorns the chapel. “I want you to look at the Lord and recite His praise. This is not for us only. This is an offering in His honor. We’re doing it in the name of Satan.”

Breathing deep, you try to recall all those lessons. Imperator’s voice is completely lost somewhere in the mind fog when you feel Papa’s fingers entering you, one at the time. His hand is burning, so hot and rough. A part of you wants to turn around, to see for the first time the bare skin.

It feels sinful, too intimate, wrong even. His tongue clicks in disapproval when you catch a glimpse of what he’s doing, of his fingers going in and out of your body, glistening in his saliva and your excitement. “Recite.”

“Our father…” you start, voice faltering when he hits the right spot. Your spine curves on its own, nails digging on the hard wood of the altar.

“Our father, who art in Hell. Unhallowed, be thy name,” Papa assist, voice deep and commanding. It is enough to prompt you to follow him, pupils focusing on the colored glass.

It’s useless. Your voice dies as he enters you, a loud, deep moan invading your vocal cords. Papa’s hands grip you by the waist, fingers digging hard enough to bruise. In the morning, you'll have plenty of mementos, you'll wear his mark with pride.

His thrusts are relentless, powerful. At some point, Papa presses down on your abdomen, causing you to feel him deeper and deeper, in your guts and even poking at the stomach. You wonder if he can feel himself moving inside you, if he feels as good as you feel right now.

His deep growl in your ear tells you he does. Going faster and faster, Papa thrusts until your arms can’t hold you anymore. Falling to the ground, the wood is a cold relief in your feverish face. Your sharp nails scratch the altar, as he hits it over and over again.

The borders of your vision become dark as you come, legs shaking and toes curling, stomach tight and back arched like a cat. Papa continues, hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, hitting even deeper until his movement becomes erratic and he comes, filling your insides.

For a long moment, he doesn't speak. Gradually, he pulls out, leaving you open and dripping for him. His fingers trace a way down your inner thighs, travel up your spine. “By the grace of Our Lord, you have received the communion of the Unholy Spirit. Hail Satan.”

“Hail Satan,” you breath out, eyes closed and mouth agape. There’s not a trace of strength in your muscles, nothing but bliss.

“And Hail yourself, Sibling. I’ll wait eagerly to celebrate your next confession.”

Without any other word, he stands up. Picking up his discarded robes, Papa begins to walk his way out of the chapel.

“Yes, Papa,” you reply. before he crosses the door. The air is beginning to come back inside your lungs, as the blood cools down. Alone on the altar, you rejoice in the feeling of his blessing trickling down your thighs.

PD: This is my retirement from the Ghost fandom. I'll never be able to write something like this again /hj.

Ask box is open so you can confess your sins, you priest-fuckers.

#ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv #papa nihil #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #my writing #my fic

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girlgerard · 2 years

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I know im probably reading into it but the pride flag thing means so much, whether it was for the fans or it was for G’s own affinity with it or both. It wasn’t put in the back like other stuff thrown on stage, it was displayed for everyone to see, and in a place like Budapest.

it’s. god okay. my chemical romance has such a strange and intimate relationship with the queerness of their audience in a way i don’t think anyone else can replicate. i think they at many points felt/feel this kind of impostor syndrome at being hailed as Queer Icons. like imagine being frank iero and just being a guitarist and suddenly you’re being told by thousands of trans men that you are their blueprint for their mental health. that’s a fucking LOT, no matter how innocent or complementary it may be. i already bristle at the queer icon label because it implies someone’s identity is only important for representation - like they’re there to be consumed. and we know that gerard is through with the martyr complex. they don’t want to rip themselves apart for the masses anymore. by all accounts it would have made sense to actively reject the queer icon label because it seems like it goes against what they want to be these days - they are not there to be consumed.

and yet. they’re so kind about it. they don’t ever try and push queer fans away. they comfort people struggling with dysphoria and tell them they’re not alone and that they went through the same thing. they call in to drag shows just to tell trans kids that they’re proud of them. they join queer comic writer anthologies and write stories of self acceptance. they hang up a pride flag someone threw onstage instead of putting it to the side, in a country where the government is actively homophobic, because they KNOW what that means for the audience. they don’t have to do any of that shit! none of them do! and yet they’re so gentle with us.

gerard’s not a pushover. i think people forget that they’re tough as fuck and will stand their ground when they need to. they have incredible integrity. they ended mcr when they felt it had run its course, going against everything the industry wanted. they canceled their second solo album because the label kept trying to tamp down on their creativity. they can and would say something if they felt uncomfortable with the association of queerness that mcr has had nailed to its back. but instead all they do is listen and smile when the crowd sings the mama bridge. all they do is hang up that pride flag on the drum face. they never explain it. they know they don’t need to.

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wmarximoff · 1 year

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Community labels are there to allow people who don’t want to see all of the adult and smut content to filter it out, so they don’t have to see it in the tags.

It isn’t about smut fic writers being targeted. It’s about mature content being given a proper mature label so that users who do not want to see 18+ NSFW content at all can completely filter out all smut/porn/mature content from their tumblr experience.

Your complaining about it “messing up your engagement” and you not getting as many likes just shows how selfish you’re being.

Not everyone wants to have to scroll through character tags and see masses of mature content and smut.

Well, you say this isn't about smut fic writers being targeted but literally the only people being affected by those labels around here is us - there's literal pornography running around without being properly tagged, but the fics that literally need a click in the :readmore: option to expose the reader to the content it's being thrown into limbo. From what you're saying I assume you're not a writer, so I can also assume that you don't know how disheartening it is to see work where you've dedicated your energy, creativity, and spare time being practically segregated from the site within minutes of posting.

There are warnings from me on every issue that my content is NSFW, in my bio, and in all warnings on my fics (just like other NSFW writers), so if YOU choose not to like it, just ignore it, block me, I don't give a fuck. But seriously, don't spoil the experience of those who REALLY want to consume this type of content. Not to mention that it's not fair that anyone can tag any post and automatically shadowban it - the system is great in theory, but like everything else on this site, practice is poorly executed and only affects users.

Some authors are even having their links deleted and inaccessible because of this, which is not right at all. It's a selective system that is just being a drag on the fic community, specifically the Wanda x Reader fics. Just enter the tag to notice how low the movement is, seriously.

And man, it's literally not about fucking likes or reblogs, it's just being able to interact with people who REALLY want to interact with me and my content. This is literally a WRITING BLOG, of course I want to interact with my readers and with possible new readers who might come across my content by chance, get interested and actually like it. The fun of having a writing blog is the casual interaction with readers, something that makes posting my work less mechanical and plastered, but if literally the main point of it simply disappears from the site, it just doesn't exist anymore, it's like writing for a fucking wall. It's literally like painting dozens of pictures that no one will see, or releasing an album that no one will listen to.

So, man, all I have to say is if you don't like what you see, just ignore it, block the blogs, customize YOUR OWN FEED. But don't spoil the experience for others, both authors and readers. It's exhausting and for those of us who really dedicate our time to what we do, it's disheartening and discouraging.

#t asks #anon

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die-rosastrasse · 10 months

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Sometimes, when we create we have to let go of the reception of what we have created.

I write fanfiction. 10-20 years ago, people would always review/comment. It was instant gratification. Lately, if I can ger one comment for a chapter of 10'00-2 000 words, I am grateful. People's behaviour with "free" or eas of access art has deteriorated. It's too much effort to show appreciation even if we feel it.

I focus on my joy of writing. Hoping that someone will be moved by my words but focusing on my own pleasure of wroting exactly what I want to read. If someone likes it : great. If not, well I'm enjoying my own writing.

I hope you find equal joy and satisfaction in the act of creation.

You create a lot of beauty and dreams... may you never stop.

Hi! First of all, thank you for reaching out. People never do, which is part of why I feel so resented by the world. Thank you for your kind words and a very well articulated message, which I absolutely agree with. I'm glad I'm not the only one who is noticing how beauty, photographs and creations have become quick, mass produced, single-use and lost in a sea of thousand new posts coming every second. I see that this is where the world is heading more and more, with AI "art", reposting stolen pictures or rewriting yourself to fit some aesthetic, and that makes me so scared for the future. And also, makes me even more motivated to spend more time on creating than on consuming, and being very peculiar about what I consume and how much. I understand your words about focusing on the joy and satisfaction of creating itself, it's the most important thing for me too, even it sounded like it's not. It's my favorite feeling right now: the need to create, paint, write, collage, take every single piece of myself and make something out of it with my hands. It's so beautiful and gratifying in itself and I'm at a point in my life when it's really all I want to do with my time. And I'm proud of my works anyway, I know I'm getting better for myself, I love the feeling of inspiration and I try to keep myself in this state as long as I can. The joy of making something is why I do what I do, nothing else is necessary and my private world is complete without approval of anyone else. But every once in a while, I remember that maybe if we put ourselves out there, someone will listen and sharing the beauty that we found or that we tried to make is the most normal, valid human emotion. And this, showing my precious pieces I made with adoration, and meeting not with hate, not love, but indifference, makes me want to throw up, go inside a hole and never go out. Why is that so hard? Why was I perfectly content with my work when it was just mine, but sharing it with others suddenly makes me hate it, no matter if it was well received or not? I will forever be creative because that's who I am in the depths of my soul and honestly I don't want to share my life with anybody now. But this feeling will always come again, the need to leave something after me, have some kind of legacy. Or simply inspire somebody and receive the same energy that I put in the world, or meet a single person who would give it some time, consciousness, curiosity. I don't know how to balance between hiding my world just for myself and the need to scream about it to everyone who would listen. I don't think there is a balance, just the terrible feeling of missing something on both sides. The inability to have it all is the reason for my crisis.

#ask #long post

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donotfear-iamhere · 4 months

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One of this person’s post ended up on my dash, and another accused them of being a TERF so I went to their blog to fact check (and yes it’s true they are transphobic) and found these posts as well. I just wanted to use these two as an example and talk about how privileged one has to be to say they don’t care and that the “war” has nothing to do with them.

You really think this war has nothing to do with you? With the products you consume or the billion dollar companies that are undoubtedly in your country whose CEO’s support Israhell? Assuming that both the user and anon are American (which I know the user is) or from Canada/UK, you can’t ignore the impact these governments have in continuing the genocide because of their close ties with Israhell.

And then trivializing the tragedy as if it’s two equal powers that are “blowing each other up” … listen if you don’t want to post about it, then don’t. But since you’re the one that brought it up, there’s obviously something about this genocide that you DO care about (probably how you can use the conflict to make fun of others, specifically those who are pro-Palestine, because you’ve created no emotional stake for yourself concerning this genocide so there’s undoubtedly a sense of righteousness when others do care).

You cannot be a centrist who hates all wars, because being a centrist in this conflict means you’re lending your support towards the colonizers who are itching at the chance to commit mass murder. If you cannot even explicitly say that you care for the lives of the thousands of Palestinians being killed at the hands of Israhell and that you wish for there to be a ceasefire, even while anonymous or even to yourself, then don’t worry about posting about the issue at all because the conversation does not need you in it.

#long post #q posts #free palestine #Zionist blocklist

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minnwaa · 1 year

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milgram fuuta's thought

honestly tho deco*27 outdid themselves w/ the second round songs so far, because it's so good??? i still cant stop looping fuuta's song until now and it's been HOURS since then. i haven't been listening to anything else please save me

but if there's one thing that i know after listening it THEN re-listening it AND THEN re-listening it, then after analyzing both salamander and the voice drama, i definitely gonna be voting forgiven for fuuta. okay here's why. (even though i know that half of the fandom gonna be voting forgiven for him anyway lmao)

salamander is essentially a song about loving something that hurts you, got addicted to the taste of it even though it might harm you or cause you pain. it's also mentioned in the song that you can find ways to make it less painful, but you'll be definitely "eating" or consuming it anyway. it's literally in the song,

Ouch! That was hot getting burned from living too fast It’s a bit annoying because I can’t handle too much hot food I want it on repeat, I want a spicy treat Can I get seconds? One more time!! I want to burn bright red

do you know why the song used salamander? it's because salamander cannot actually stand the heat, it's basically a myth because they liked to sleep in damp logs used in camping. they will actually die when burned because they need the mucus on their skin to survive, but salamanders can survive the heat when forced, not because they like the heat or because they are fireproof. so the singer, the speaker, is basically asking a salamander to die for the thing they love, which is the heat. salamanders can regenerate their body part, though, so that's probably the reason why the singer was confused why a salamander wouldn't like the heat even though it's probably going to survive when it can regenerate its cells. but it will still be painful. but they're going to survive anyway.

then like, we have backdraft. the last part of the song, the rap part, got me really interested, right? because holy shit that is a lot of words at once.

"Oh no, surrounded, lynched by the masses Moribund, that's all from me, reporting from the ground Bust out, explode that counter uppercut Tolerate, impress those spectators Alight, enmeshed, their eyes closing in Dodging seems impossible Bust out, explode that counter uppercut Swallowing me whole, can't douse this FIRE"

also @ milgram it's not, moribound, it's moribund,

moribund definition:

so taking what we know from salamander, we know that fuuta was probably building a habit to enjoy the thing that harmed him. from bring it on, we know that he's chronically online so that's probably what he can't stop enjoying. he knew that it was wrong and harmed him too, but at this point, he's addicted and can't stop. he's at the front line and center, even when he's half dead (not sure if it's like him being real almost dying or metaphorical social death) he can't stop because he had to "impress" the spectators. he was "lynched by the masses" probably means that he was peer-pressured to be the leader, to be the hero (callback to bring it on) but then thrown away and judged when all gone to shit.

which led me to my third point, onigiriico made a translation of the voice drama which you totally should read by yourself because i am in pain and i am biased for him fucking sue me

anyway

he had a good point, which is why was he the one being punished when it's not just him who bullied this person. he only said what's wrong is wrong and what's a sin is a sin, then probably triggered a wave of bullying. fuuta might be a person who has a big following, so he might feel like he's a hero because people do listen to him, people followed him, so it's the eyes that followed him. but one thing is for sure, he felt guilty for what he did, and he didn't know what he did would impact the other person this badly. what he needed wasn't getting beaten up, he's just so fucking chronically online dude. he needs THERAPY.

(at this point who in milgram doesn't need it. probably yuno)

so yes, i will vote forgiven. because it's not about the matter of him being innocent or not. let me be clear, i don't think he's innocent in anyway. bullying is a serious matter and what he did was wrong. but he's sorry and he felt guilty for what he did. (even when he said that he's not in the wrong but he obviously is, lmao kid) he probably wanted to stop but wasn't allowed to by his peer and his addiction, but now he knows how fatal his action is.

so in my eyes, he's forgiven.

#milgram #milgram thought #milgram theory #fuuta kajiyama #i love him hes my lil meow meow #cant wait to see what kotoko's side song and her song is #bc i genuinely cant imagine how theyre going to do hers #just let fuuta have a break you guys he's literally traumatized beyond hell and back

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howlingday · 1 year

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Weiss: Poor, foolish Whitley. So young, and so naïve.

Whitley: Excuse me?

Weiss: The world harsh and cruel, my baby brother, and no one will listen to you unless you can entertain the masses as well.

Whitley: Don't call me a "baby". Not only is it inaccurate, it is also rude.

Weiss: And yet my words are no less true. One day, you will understand what it means to be ignored because you're boring. If you want the people to learn, you must entertain them. Until we meet again, baby brother. (Leaves)

Whitley: Hm... Perhaps she's right. Perhaps my education could be a bit more... jovial.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: ...

Jaune: ...

Whitley: (Rapper get-up) Welcome back to business economics. ...Yo.

Whitley: It has come to my understanding that some of you are having trouble understanding my class. ...Yo.

Jaune: We're the only ones here.

Ruby: Ssh!

Whitley: As such, I have prepared a simple rap to follow along and understand the needed facts to survive in a capitalist-driven economy in which you provide goods and services for your peers and lessers.

Ruby: ...

Jaune: ...

Whitley: ...Yo.

Whitley: (Turns on track, Raps)

She sells sea shells on a sea shore,

But the value of these shells will fall

Due to the laws of supply and demand

No one wants to buy shells,

'Cause there's loads on the sand

Whitley: (Draws seashell on the board, Scratches red X over it)

Step One:

You create a sense of scarcity

Shells will sell much better

If they're rare, you see,

Bear with me,

Take as many shells as you can find

And hide them on an island

Stockpile them high until they're rarer than a diamond

Whitley: (Draws hand, Draws more hands)

Step Two:

Gotta make the people think that they want 'em

Really want 'em

Really fuckin' want 'em

Fuckin' Ironwood wants 'em!

Influencers! Product placement!

Prime time entertainment!

If you haven't got a shell,

Then you're just a fuckin' waste, man

Whitley: (Draws building with seashell, Lancaster draw up logos)

Step Three:

It's a monopoly

Invest inside some property

Start a corporation,

Build a logo,

Do it properly,

"Shells Must Sell"

This will be your new philosophy

Swallow all your morals,

They're a poor man's quality

Whitley: (Lancaster nervously swallow lumps, Whitley draws bigger and bigger circles)

Step Four:

Expand! Expand! Expand!

Clear forest! Make Land!

Fresh blood! On hands!

Whitley: (Draws circles with different things, Lancaster call Weiss)

Five!

Why just shells?

Why limit yourself?!

She sells seashells!

SELL DUST AS WELL!

Whitley: (Wildly draws different randomness, Lancaster joins War of the Roses)

Six!

Sell guns! Sell stocks!

Sell diamonds! Sell rocks!

Sell water to a fish!

Sell the time to a clock!

Whitley: (Excitedly puts up campaign poster, WotR wheel in a projector)

SEVEN!

Step hard on the gas,

Like a bat out of hell,

And run to be the councilman of Mantle!

Whitley: (Puts up more and more posters, WotR gather slides for the projector)

EIGHT!

BIG SMILE! BIG WAVE!

YEAH, THAT'S GREAT!

Know the truth is overrated,

Tell lies out the gate!

Whitley: (Angrily rips down half the posters, WotR turn off the lights)

NINE!

POLARIZE THE PEOPLE!

CONTROVERSY IS THE GAME!

IT DOESN'T MATTER IF THEY HATE YOU IF THEY ALL SAY YOUR NAME!

Whitley: (Projector turns on to blind Whitley, Sees his father staring from the board)

Ten...

The world was yours...

Stepped off the stage as the world applause...

You're a liar. A cheat. A scoundrel. A whore...

Whitley: (Falls to his knees, Sobs)

And you sold seashells on the seashore...

Whitley: (Sniffs, Stands up) Erm, ahem! I, uh, hope you all learned something from this.

Ruby: Er, y-yeah, like, uh, how supply and demand needs to maintain an equilibrium, or else an inflation or deflation will disrupt the economic flow to both consumers and providers detriment.

Jaune: And how product placement can influence people to buy more, and that consumerism helps the provider gain more reach in their influence on others.

Weiss: (Smiles) You did good, Whitley.

Whitley: (Smiles) Thank you.

#rwby #the money game pt. 2 #ren #weiss schnee #whitley schnee #jaune arc #ruby rose

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muzzleroars · 1 year

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hey, just curious. Do you have any thoughts about the most recent secret mission's mention of Lucifer? any ideas as to what they might end up being, if they'll actually appear in game/ be a character or not, etc?

i've talked a little bit about lucifer in a couple different asks, but this is a good place to fully talk about him and get it all in one place!!

this testament is already pretty interesting wrt the timeline and traditional christian thought on the creation and purpose of hell, because the war in heaven typically occurs before the creation of humans. i think this is generally accepted due to needing satan to play the role of the serpent in the garden - if lucifer still remains in heaven, then how does humanity fall? how do they come to deserve hell without their temptation? assuming the garden of eden will be included in the lore, the only answer we have is that the temptation was a test from god himself and humanity failed, leading him to develop hell specifically for his experiment. this tracks when looking back on the previous testaments, as god curses himself for failing to create a being without free will, one that will listen to him absolutely - he sent the temptation and humans went against his express orders by their consumption of the fruit. and so he makes hell. in his anger, both at humanity's failure and his own, he creates a place of pure malice meant only to eternally punish any that act in defiance to him, no matter the cause or how small the infraction.

however, lucifer questions this action and is even bold enough to ask god directly why. and this is likely what causes god to truly break down into crisis due to several factors: he does feel guilt over creating lives only to damn immortal souls to unending torture, but there is also the fact that, for whatever reason, he can't take it back. he's lost control of hell and it consumes these souls now even as he realizes the horror of what he's enacted, and so he must not be all-powerful. additionally, by lucifer asking this, it makes it clear that angels also have free will, that they form opinions separate from god's and can see him as flawed. lucifer's question may have been innocent, he may have believed god had a perfectly good answer, but he showed autonomy by asking, and any misstep on god's part may see lucifer understand that his creator is not as infallible as the heavenly host believes. so he is expelled, immediately thrown from heaven into hell himself, and what can god do but sink into that despair? his brightest angel gone, the creation made in his image damned, everything he has made is failing. his kingdom is a lie, his competence is a lie, and he just surrounds himself with angels still unquestioning and human souls utterly obedient. he turns his eyes away from the festering, growing failure that is hell. he turns everyone's eyes from it. curse it, hide it, make it taboo. but it's still there. and so is lucifer.

SO on to lucifer specifically - i'm really not entirely sure what might be done with him and i have several ideas about his current state. what's most difficult is that we have no confirmation of fallen angels and how they might appear in this story should they exist. all the demons are described as beings made of hell mass placed into a shell and appear stone-like - it's likely that they are hell turning the inanimate animate, almost in mock creation with their humanoid shapes and faces. but these aren't former angels and are instead "native" beings to hell, so it's impossible to say what form lucifer would take with any certainty. but if i can wildly speculate and since we all KNOW i love a good fallen angel, i like the idea that he may have died upon his fall but that obviously didn't exactly stick. i sort of just in general feel that an angel falling necessarily means their death, but, if powerful enough, they have their own similarities to prime souls in that they will become something else - and yea i definitely like the thought of whatever lucifer's become is something fused with hell. i like him being fixed as dante's lucifer and perhaps similarly mindless in a sense; he is not his own but a twisted entity warped in agony and emblematic of what a horrific place hell truly is. i don't think he'd be the final boss entirely because it's too obvious, but i'm likely way off base for whatever's actually planned anyway lol mostly i do just really like the idea that lucifer may show us what happens to an angel when they die and will truly showcase what awful creations god had made.

#also god definitely lied about what happened with him to the rest of heaven lol #and i very much like the idea of gabriel finally actually seeing what became of him #the truth so disturbing but so affirming of his own choices #like it's all been fucked up from the beginning huh #can everyone tell i just really want fallen angels to exist wahh #cake answers

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blackjackkent · 7 months

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Wellp. Gale's secret finally popped. O.O

Hector gave him another magical artifact to consume - the third such so far...and, concerningly, Gale seems to be developing a tolerance.

Given that he seems to be struggling more and more with trying to feed whatever hunger is driving the need for these objects, he came to the decision to tell Hector and the group the full truth.

About time, Hector thinks wearily.

The story Gale tells is, in brief: he was such a prodigy at magic and so connected to the Weave that Mystra herself took him as a student and eventually as a lover. In his human arrogance, unsatisfied, he desired for her to show him the deep secrets of magic and the Weave that are beyond the capacity of mortals to understand and manipulate.

Needless to say, Mystra told him to chill out, but he didn't listen.

He tells the story of the power he sought instead. "Once upon a very long time ago, a mighty lord lived in a tower. A flying tower to be precise. I'll save his history for another time, but the gist of it is that he sought to usurp the goddess of magic so that he could become a god himself. He almost managed, but not quite, and his entire empire, Netheril, came crashing down around him as he turned to stone."

The destructive force of the energy released when this lord died shattered the Weave, and magic was lost to the realms until Mystra returned and reconstructed it. Gale learned of a lost shard of the Weave that she missed, sealed away in a Netherese tome.

"What if, I thought-- what if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess."

Hector can already see where this is going, but he answers as if by rote, "What was the answer to that question?"

"The answer was to try. The outcome was to fail. I was certain that this deed of raw power draped in romance would convince Mystra to take me by the hand and welcome me into her hitherto forbidden domains. I was mistaken. I obtained the fabled book and took it into my study. As for what happened next..."

He pauses, crouches down and reaches out a hand, his eyes fixed on Hector's. "Here. Please your hand over my heart. Let me show you."

It feels like a strange mockery of the moment a few nights ago, in which Gale offered to show him the magic of channeling the Weave, and the warm contentment that went with it. This is also an expression of welcome into a private experience - but darkened, twisted.

Hector leans forward, presses his palm over the other man's chest.

The light bursts around them, the power enveloping them both - no gentle cradling of the Weave this time but the harsh texture of the tadpole's connection. Pain stabs through Hector's temple and he fights to focus as the imagery begins to flood through him.

Narrator: You feel the tadpole quiver as you realize Gale is letting you in. Into the dark. You see through Gale's eyes, staring down the corridors of a dread memory. A book, bound, then suddenly opened.

Narrator: Inside there are no pages, only a swirling mass of blackest Weave that pounces. Its teeth, its claws - it's unstoppable as it digs through and becomes part of you. And gods, is it ever-hungry...

His palm feels fused against Gale's chest. His eyes are squeezed shut. He is conscious only of the vision of that encroaching, all-consuming darkness. For a moment, he has the panicky feeling that he cannot escape the memory, that he is trapped in it, bound into it...

Dimly he can hear Karlach shouting something. The alarm in her voice seems to jar something in him, and he wrenches his eyes open.

"How are you...still alive?" he gasps out weakly, struggling for breath, to regain his sense of himself from within that mass of the other man's memories.

Gale looks up at him, still clinging to his hand as if for support, the pale glow of the Weave illuminating the lines of fear and grief on his face. "Thankfully, the moment I absorbed the fragment wasn't enough to kill me outright. It was only the beginning. This Netherese blight, this orb for lack of a better word, is balled up inside my chest. And it needs to be fed. As long as I absorb traces of the Weave from potent enough sources, it remains quiet. Were it ever to fully destabilize, however..."

With an effort, Hector steps back, pulls his hand away, breaks the connection between them. "Go on," he says, though he does not want to hear the answer.

Gale looks away. "I will...erupt. I don't know the exact magnitute of the eruption, but given my studies of Netheres magic, I'd say even a fragment as small as the one I carry..." A long, pregnant silence. "It'd level a city the size of Waterdeep."

Hector stares at him. Selune protect us...

Gale is a walking bomb.

"I trusted you," he says, his voice not so much reproachful as tired, full of this new worry and how it will add to all the others. "You should have told me."

Gale stands up slowly, not meeting his eyes. "I know. All of this - it must feel like a betrayal. Say the word, and we'll part ways."

Hector doesn't say anything for a long few moments. Of course this latest revelation is terrifying. But so was Astarion's. So was Wyll's. So, even, was Karlach's chest full of flame or Shadowheart's loyalty to Shar.

And with each of these, ultimately the answer has been clear. They are in this together, for better or for worse. And it is certainly not better for Gale to be traveling on his own than to have help in preventing this cataclysm.

And...Hector knows him a little by now. He knows in spite of this catastrophic error in judgment...he is a good man.

"We've come this far together, and we'll continue on together. That is how it will be."

He glances at the others. Karlach is nodding; her eyes reflect her own anxiety but she does not for a moment question the decision. Shadowheart looks a little more skeptical, arms crossed, watching Gale intently - but she does not interfere.

Gale's eyes widen, and then a smile breaks across his face, relief and gratitude intermixed. "That is a great relief. Oh, a great relief indeed!" He hesitates, then reaches out and takes one of Hector's hands in both of his, clutching it tightly for a moment. "You truly are a soul that steels my own. From all my new-rallied heart I thank you." He looks past Hector to their other companions. "I thank you all. I understand if you stand against me. I'm humbled if you stand with me. Either way, I will do my best not to let you down. I stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall I. I'll fight. I'll resist, as long as I can."

He lets Hector's hand fall, and his smile fades, replaced by a look of determination. "Now - even I am tired of the sound of my own voice. Let us venture forth."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #whoop there it is #i sort of figured it might be something like this #i've been rereading a wizard of earthsea recently and this sort of reminds me of one of the major plot points there #i wonder if it was inspired at all by it

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azurexsnake · 2 years

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Thot of the Day: offering to rub Taiju’s shoulders, eek some of the tension out of his muscles. You’re home, just you, him, and the paperwork scattered around his office desk, so you tentatively reach around to unbutton his shirt, citing a need for better access when sharp, golden eyes turn your way. He knows you’re up to something but he is tired. So long as your fingers keep doing what they’re doing, he’s content for you to continue.

And of course you do, watching as he melts further and further into your touch. Eating up all the little grunts, growls, and groans that rumble through his throat. Feeling for every knot and relishing the hiss and sigh as you work through each.

“Tai,” he leans back to listen, an appraising but thoroughly relaxed eye trained on you, “don’t move, okay?”

You’re careful to keep your expression unassuming, a delicate smile given and a line of kisses down the side of his neck follows- a soft ‘please’ for good measure that makes a sigh flare out his nostrils. But he leans back in his seat for you, into your embrace and the plush of your tits against his shoulder blades.

His head turns, a kiss of his own laid to the far edge of your jaw as your fingers pop more buttons, exposing skin and ink to your trailing touch.

“Love you, Tai,” you murmur, kissing everywhere you can but his lips. “Your body, too.”

“Don’t be shallow.” He says that but his voice is gruff, coming out strained to match the bulge pulsing to life in his slacks. You have him right where want him.

“Am I not supposed to find you attractive?” Your nails tease over the dips and crests of his abs and his whole stomach flinches for it, something akin to a whimper getting caught in his throat.

“I have work to do.”

Oh, is that how he’s going to be?

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

He should be glad to get you and your wandering hands out of his hair and happy trail both. Glad that he can finish balancing books and scheduling in peace. Except he finds himself spinning his back on it all to haul you by your wrist back into his lap.

“I never said I wanted that.”

Your smiles stays sweet as you wrap your arms around his neck, sweet enough to almost conceal the triumphant air that surrounds you while you play with the free hairs at his nape.

“How silly of me to have misunderstood. My mistake.”

His hands squeeze angrily at your thighs, one part frustrated with himself for his own weakness, the other needing to keep you close as your hands glide back down under his shirt once more. Still, he keeps his expression stern, “Don’t let it happen again.”

“And what if I do, Tai?” Your fingers fly to his chest, pinching both his nipples tight and pulling to where his hips buck under your ass so you can feel the hot and hard mass of him. You can see his teeth grit as you twist his two, little buds back and forth between your thumb and knuckle, the stimulation enough to make his cock jump, demanding attention. Freedom. Anything but being stuck in the confines of oppressive, black cotton.

“What would you do to me, Taiju?”

It’s never once failed to surprise you how fast Taiju is for a man of his size. This time is no different when your positions are suddenly flipped, your wrists pinned together over the back of the chair with a wall of him consuming your vision.

“Why don’t I demonstrate right now, since you’re so desperate to get fucked until you can’t feel your legs? Where will you go then, you little minx?”

“Who-” Fuck, you don’t mean for your voice to come out as small as it does, but it’s not something you think you can help at this point as your legs wrap their way around solid hips. “Who said I wanted to go anywhere?”

And why wouldn’t his smile show off the pointed canines you love so much too?

“That’s what I thought.”

20+ Content. 19 & Under DNI.

#this was genuinely not suppose to be this long #I just wanted to play with tai’s bewbies and here we are #this is not the only taiju thing I’m working on either #I hate it here #tr smut #shiba taiju #fem!reader #bottom!reader

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tv-eater · 2 months

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this is probably a bid for connection but idc DISCLAIMER I DID NOT RESEARCH <3

TLDR: There are lots of cool people on the internet who preserve work, they can make cool groups to do this easier, respect the original creators wishes and all art has inherent value in existing

The preservation of the internet and by extension the media hosted on it will succeed, there are multiple sites that are dedicated to restoring and archiving content on the web with The Internet Archive being the most well known example as it hosts a broader range of materials, but niche communities are able to archive their work with staggering quality thanks to the many volunteers (i.e. Sudomemo and the flipnote hatena archives) alongside communities with advice on how to archive independently (r/DataHoarders)

Apart from dedicated sites there are accounts across social media that repost, reblog and redistribute older web content, from GIFs to quotes to photos; Even work that is not internet based is recorded in staggering quality thanks to independent bloggers scanning and uploading all sorts of media, from scans of magazines to uploads of idents, advertisements and superstitials on platforms like YouTube

This bid to archive everything on the internet can cause concern, after all, what about the original creators wishes? In my opinion, Archive of our own strikes the perfect balance with the option to abandon works and accounts whilst still allowing the works to be accessible alongside the choice of full deletion. Since Archive of our own is primarily a site hosting fan fiction it often wanders into the grey area of legality, particularly copyright - alongside most archiving sites - with Fan fiction and fan works are often contentious in their validity to be archived. Despite this contention, fan fiction is preserved both online and in physical form, with book binding fan fiction to increase its longevity being a relatively common practise.

It can be sad to think of all the art there is in the world and to know you can never experience it all, listen to every song, watch every heartfelt video essay, read every book, but it's important to not let that paralyse you in your enjoyment of creative works, its quality not quantity and a single person is not required to enjoy every single work out there, there are different niches and audience and every piece of art is valued by other people and will be experienced by at least one person, the original creator.

On the topic of art, there is a particular pressure to preserve it. Doesn't all of that effort deserve to be remembered? This points to a particular mindset in the current media climate and towards the media climate of the past. Do all artists need to become great masters of their field and form? Does every work need to garner grand notoriety? What of the art that does not have an audience - perhaps because it was denied to the original author - is it still worth something?

Maybe the way we view creative works - and indeed any work - should be reframed? A tree doesn't need a witness to be a tree, art does not need an audience to be art, Art does not need to be consumed and saved and consumed again to be valid or important to either the audience or the original creators. Art does not have to become the next cultural zeitgeist to be worth something, nor does it need to be the next best thing to be preserved and appreciated.

Maybe it's alright for art to only be shared to friends and friends of friends, to be shown to proud parents and teachers, for songs to be half sung and mumbled to adoring pets or shared to select few peers, for sentences and quotes to be traded and awed at.

Even if a piece of art never reaches the masses, it can be remembered and payed homage to and given tribute to in all the art it inspired, every piece of work has a piece of all before it so in a sense all art is preserved even in a more philosophical way than discussed before.

Art does not need an audience to be worthy, the beauty of art is inherent in its in existence. The only art that cannot be worthy is art that does not exist, so go out and make your art regardless of outcome, and it will make its home in other people's hearts

#archiving

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existentialmagazine · 2 months

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Review: SATRE’s newest single ‘Breath Out’ carries the most aching atmosphere mixed with the woes of a crumbling relationship

The Swedish up-and-coming singer-songwriter SATRE has found himself based in London, UK as of late, sharing his craft with anyone and everyone across the globe. Influenced by acts like The Lumineers and Bon Iver, he delivers indie folk-pop doused in feelings of melancholy and nostalgia, always resonating with audiences for his hints of realism and relatability.

Now sharing his newest single ‘Breath Out’, SATRE weaves in newfound intimate detailings within a folk-pop ballad of a piece, departing from his most recent releases both lyrically and musically for something breathtakingly unique. With bright piano keys blended against synth whirs and the most tender acoustic guitar strummed introduction, you cannot help but feel the track’s melancholic nature aching in your core right from pressing play, wallowing without even words needed to describe the all-consuming emotions flowing through. This enveloping wave only continues into the verse, even with the instruments mostly fading out, leaving way for a finger-picked acoustic guitar riff to pull your heart strings into its softened pillow of sound. SATRE’s gentle vocals quiver with emotion through it, running deeply through the soundscape and placing roots that are unwavering, showcasing a level of power mixed with breathy delicacy.

The chorus picks up in intensity, building both atmosphere and closeness in one through a build-up of echoey backing vocal moments, all before things come crashing into a high that’s devastatingly real and raw. With hoarse, rising vocals that crack on the most meaningful lines, the weight of everything that SATRE sings hangs heavy in the air like nothing else maters. The instruments are just as crashing, hauntingly soaring through backing ooh’s and ahh’s, with the richest piano keys and warm sound effects to match.

The meaning is just as poignant as the sound, slowly allowing you into every inch of its carefully revealed secrets. As SATRE works through the woes of a relationship falling apart, many of the lines can’t help but be relatable to most, but there’s a slither of something else embedded in too. As his sincerity comes with sharing some of the hardest parts of real-life, he also touches on the impact of substance abuse in a relationship and the struggle of letting go of something or someone you care about. Through the tumultuous on and off, SATRE sings ‘slam the door, just to hear my voice’, acknowledging the toxic cycle many often find themselves swept up in and the way communication begins to fail. Continuing ‘don’t you think I can smell it on you, the chemicals inside’ , it’s made evident that his lover may be keeping their secrets bottled up, but the reality of their drug abuse is all too obvious. While he pushes to ‘go to bed, sleep it off instead’ , there’s no amount of sleep or things they could do that would remove the harm they’re causing themselves, and deep down he knows that. Before the chorus hits, the most pained lines of them all ring out as SATRE reveals he’s ‘worried about you all the time.’ It continues just as bravely and as heavy-heartedly, sharing some of his innermost experiences to the masses.

SATRE adds, “It’s a song I’ve had with me for a long time. It’s always been very special to me and I’ve been quite nervous to present it as it is quite different from the type of songs people would usually associate me with. However, I think it’s an important topic to bring to light. I’ve already received a lot of messages from listeners who want to share their own stories and struggles within this subject. It’s been heartbreaking but at the same time very inspiring, people out there and stronger and more resilient than you could ever imagine.”

Whether you can relate, or perhaps just want a song that makes you feel less alone, SATRE definitely does that in ‘Breath Out’ that you can continue listening to here.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Lang Shot Photography

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

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jozyallen · 2 years

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They're Everywhere

This week we had to watch a lecture and the Netflix documentary The Social Dilemma. After watching both, I believe that one must look at the ethical side of Big Data, the storage of and analysis of large and/or complex sets of data. Often, the root of the problem with Big Data is with personal information. Companies store files of in-depth customer information, this may include search history, recently viewed app, last snapchat sent and even more personal like email, phone number, social security card number, etc. They then package all the information about us and sell it to another company. Ethically, I think anyone would believe that this is an invasion of privacy.

The concept of the Internet being free in return for our personal information needs to be revised. As Dr. Melton mentioned, we do not know what data is collected, we cannot contest for it to be deleted, we are completely in the unknown. I understand that this type of mass data collection is useful for companies that are wanting to mass advertise but it is a trespass into our personal lives. In the documentary and Dr. Melton’s lecture, they made the statement that since we are not paying for the product, we are the product. Games that are free that we download on our phones are riddled with ads, The Internet clearly watches and listens to us 24/7. A scary anecdote: My friend bought a dress from Halara and I wanted to remember the name so I said “Halara” about 20 times and sure enough within the following hours I got an ad on my Instagram page for Halara. The good old saying is ‘There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch’ there is always something you pay in return and in this case it is our personal information and records.

I believe that these problems and breaches of trust need to be resolved. I propose that we, the consumers, are given access to the data collected on us and the unalienable right to have say over if we want something deleted. There has to be some sort of filter on what can and cannot get saved/sold.

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club33fitus · 2 years

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Best Workout Programs For Men - Club33

Training program for men

Cut nonsense and follow the steps that are enhanced carefully to achieve a new one, tore you! Everything you need to know from nutrition to the best supplements is included. You should pay attention to 4 things when building muscles: your calorie intake (how much food you consume), the exercise you do (do you target every area of muscles?), Routine your exercise (when to work for every muscle group), and the mentality you Have while practicing at the gym.

The Best Workout Program for Men's methods

Your calorie intake must be centered not only on your body type but the type of activity you follow and your training intensity. I personally am naturally very thin. Therefore I have to consume a lot of calories to grow and use muscle mass. In general, thin men clearly need to eat more than larger men. Use this for your benefit by adjusting your calorie intake to suit your needs. If you are bulking, you must aim to get one pound per week; If you cut, aims to lose one pound a week. Tweak your diet to find what is most suitable for you!

Exercise in Important Men's Exercise Programs!

You must learn to target each muscle group in a different way to make a very slim profit and body symmetry as a whole. For example, if you train your feet, you need to stimulate not only your front thighs, but also glutes, back thighs, and your calves. You can do this by knowing which exercises to do, the Range of REP to use, and in what order. Male Day typical of the training program for men looks like this:

1. Warm-up on elliptical (it is very important to warm up your joints before heavy lifting)

2. Leg extensions 3×12 (helps to warm up your knees; I noticed that when I started doing these at the beginning of leg day, my knee pain diminished)

3. Squats 3×5 2×12 (this is the very core of your leg routine; both low-volume, high-intensity and high-volume, low intensity are utilized to build strength and also size through achieving hypertrophy (muscle size growth).

4. Barbell Lunges 3×10 (these are great for your glutes and how they tie in)

5. Leg press 3×12 (perfect for your outer quad sweep; place your feet close together)

6. Leg curl 3×15 (really targets the hamstrings; use slow, controlled motions to really contract and stretch your hams)

7. Stiff-legged deadlift 3×8 (this movement is designed to build massive hamstrings that make your legs look amazing from the back and side)

8. Calf raises 3×30 (calves respond best to high volume so 30 reps/set is a good way to get them to explode!)

Best Workout Programs For Men and what schedule works best

If you are a beginner, it is best if you focus on core, compound movements such as squat, bench, deadlift, and overhead press. It is also optimal for you to train only 3 days a week and to limit your training sessions. Beginner workout programs for men for chest would look something like this:

1. Bench Press 3×5

2. Incline dumbbell chest fly 3×12

3. Dips 3×5

You will notice that there is very little volume. A beginner will grow best on a low-volume routine when nutrition and rest is being taken care of. When you can stop adding weight to your lifts each workout, you know it is time to add more volume- you are now considered intermediate!

Mentality one must have using workout programs for men

When training, your mind must be in alignment with your body. You have to learn to listen to your body so that you can accommodate its needs and grow lean muscle mass. This includes building a proper rest schedule that is flexible. An intermediate routine could look like this:

Day 1: Chest

Day 2: Back

Day 3: Shoulders and Traps

Day 4: Legs

Day 5: Rest

and repeat!

For more Info About workout Plans or Fitness Related any type information Contact (312) 600-7305 (Club33)

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