#the back of an artist is absolutely fucking crippled

[devouredead]

This is a question from @crippled-lavender 's cripple ask game! 5.] what’s the worst part about being physically disabled?

The way people treat me. And other people. It makes me so angry when it happens to me, but when I see it happen to others, too, I want to fly off the chain. I want to go to shows and be close to the artist, to the stage. Not be forced to stay far, far back, especially when there's little or no consideration for people with disabilities. I don't want to be stared at or shoved or treated as lesser or taken advantage of because of my disabilities, but it happens. I hate being stared at when all I want to do is cross a room or be with my friends in a public space. Hate abled-bodied people suggesting treatments, especially non-medical ones. No, a gluten free diet will not heal my genetic disease. Only a couple times to my face, but sometimes they insist I'm faking, too, which is just a whole other level. This shit is going to kill me (it's not really taking its time, either), and you wanna say I'm faking? Because of my clothes or my hair, or my body mods or the way I present? Just fuck you. Not a fan of the way that some abled ND people automatically assume they belong in physically disabled space or that they know what it's like because of their mental circumstances. They're two different things, and it's not yours to claim if it's not yours, full stop. You're literally not going to understand what it's like to not be able to see something/reach something/fit through a door/be expected to step aside while in a wheelchair if you haven't done it. Out of all the record stores I went to on my birthday, not one was fully navigable in my chair. An abled ND person, once in the building, could have gone anywhere they'd liked. I could look at the first few rows. The lack of accessible accommodations is awful, as a runner up. There are a lot of ways businesses and everyone else gets around ADA compliance, etc, and to get disability stuff from doctors is a whole ordeal. It is not 'easy' to get on disability or to get accommodations and if you have them you absolutely do not have it 'made' because at any time for any made up reason most businesses can just revoke your fucking rights in the moment and anyone who told you that disabled people have it easy are a lying sack of crap. Lastly, I used to be an artist. Used to draw and sculpt. Loved to hike, loved playing instruments. Can't do that stuff close to how I used to. I mourn myself, but hardly have time to do so in a meaningful and healthy way, because I always have to be focused on protecting myself in those other two things first. Once again notice that having to be pre-occupied with other humans, not the disability, is the primary struggle for a disabled person. That's not always the case, but it is way too often.

Disclaimer: I never have gotten asks (that haven't been personal attacks) so I just enjoy answering the questions. Please keep in mind the original post specifies that crippled (physically disabled only) are invited to use the specific questions.

[yestrday]

who would be the most terminally online in the academy au? im putting my bets on xiao but yknow it could be anyone ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

my dear. who else could it be but our lovely, moody shut-in?

xiao is definitely a gamer, he already has the hair. back before he met you his internet addiction was absolutely crippling. probably a discord mod for some games and other ... mmm... lewd stuff, but he isn’t one of those creepy ones. actually the one some may hate cuz he's too strict + is online most of the time. if any of these online moots knew you they’d be so grateful for pulling him off his keyboard. 

aether and lumine had Instagram accounts made for them since they were children because a) they’re pretty b) they’re pretty twins and they pretty much took over it when they were 13 or something. (I actually hate it when parents do this because ew your child’s face is not something you should post about in a public setting). they’re those ulzzang models you see and both have around 500k followers. one day they wake up and check their followers and aether starts parading around how he has 501, 009 and lumine gets mad. next lumine smugly slips in that she has 501, 010. it goes on.

childe starts fights on twitter and laughs at their stupidity. does ugly duets on tiktok for the memes and also cuz people like seeing handsome men doing ugly stuff. his tiktok page is full of memes.

venti has an absurd following on his tiktok and yt page for posting covers and original songs. is the victim of childe’s tiktok stupidity. he liked it at first but there’s only so much an artist can take when someone mocks their art. ten seconds away from making a callout post on twitter dot com abt childe

thoma has a decent Instagram following abt his homemade meals. no one knows how he looks like or how he actually works for the kamisato family. pretty low-key foodgrammer, around 20k followers bet

itto makes those stupid tiktoks like eating cinnamon and those life-threatening trends. has a lot of followers, 40k probs, but his comments are just people dissing him and telling him to stop being a bad influence to children on tiktok. i agree. he should take it down.

no one knows, but scara’s a stupid, stupid fuck who dwells in the toxic side of twitter. likes making callout posts filled with purposely false information because who tf cares if this dsmp streamer talked shit abt some other streamer. no one. they’re barely relevant and people are still losing their nuts over this. disappears into the mist once people caught on, but not before doxxing someone. the damage has already been done and now everyone who doesn’t do their research thinks that streamer A shaves their balls on prnhub as a side job

[submalevolentgrace]

can you explain your relationship with the word trap? i am into reclaiming slurs big time but that one always felt a step too far. I associate it with the tropes that trans people are deceptive, the trans panic defense, and reactionary trans ppl who i feel like kind of sell us out. But i also know that reclaiming can be really powerful, and that other slurs imply similarly horrible things. Would love to hear your thoughts!

gonna be honest, i don't have particularly strong feelings about the word 'trap' these days, i mostly just threw it on the list to round it out, and replace a few other words i didn't want to imply were slurs. i used to like it but i've grown up and kinda left it behind, i usually only ever call myself a trap if it makes for a funny joke among friends

you're right that it has pretty awful connotations, and i think it's perfectly understandable to find it particularly bad

for my personal context: in the era and corners of the internet where i spent my late teens and early 20's, around the time i came out for good, the words 'trap' and 'futa' were absolutely everywhere and had a mostly positive aura about them; politically incorrect yes, fetishistic yeah often, sometimes used derisively yeah ofc; but on the whole, used in the context of desire, approval, and goals. traps were cute and beautiful, but also usually overtly gender noncomforming and obviously trans; something that brought me great comfort as i struggled with passing and others' perceptions of myself. things have obviously changed since then, 'futa' seems to be universally understood as negative nowdays (unless it's being wilfully misrepresented to use a 90's nintendo power interview with a minor sprite artist to twist facts); while 'trap' has become impolite at best in mainstream, but seems to be relatively evenly split between alt right memers using it to couch hate, and being used with pride and love by that genre of hypersexual intentionally subversive 'fuck gender' femboy/tgirl crowd; and all the power to them for it!

the answer the broader question though, in general i think that the 'slur vs reclaimed' way of looking at words is.... bad and unhelpful at best, and a tool to disguise horizontal violence more often than not. it presumes that there's a monolithic "us" that can be defined in opposition to a "them", and that "we" can achieve consensus agreement on a single lexicon of words that are good and bad... which is basically false assumptions all the way down! but constructing a monolithic "us" and aggressively enforcing language use is a good tool for those that want to erase certain people/identities/cultures they don't like, by subsuming them into approved boxes withing the monolith.

i'm much more fond of the idea of 'words of power': that because of cultural use, certain words are particularly strong and sharp and impactful: faggot, dyke, cripple, crazy, whore, slut... a bunch of racial and ableist words i personally don't feel comfortable saying.... but you get the idea. words that, for no reason other than how they are and have been used, land in a sentence with the impact of a brick, no matter the context.

and if they're going to hit powerfully no matter what.... why not use them ourselves? some guy on the street shouting "fucken dyke!" at me and my girlfriend as he walks by has selected that word for its power, in his mind its power to hurt. i could cower from him and exhaust myself trying to 'educate' people that word is a 'slur' and fight an endless battle that said man won't ever care about, and constantly update the list of unspeakable words as he finds some new thing to shout hatefully instead... or i could snap around in an instant a shout back "fucken right i am!", sticking up two fingers and licking in a crude combination of "fuck you" and "i eat pussy" at the same time... and the power is mine again. he doesn't know how to react, he fumbles his words and his feet, and i'm gone by the time he gathers himself. it's not even that i've taken the word back from him; it wasn't his to begin with because i was already holding it. he tried to come at me with a sword, and not only does he find it doesn't hurt me, he suddenly sees that i'm fucking made out of swords! i'm not some self loathing, fearful target anymore. i'm a fucken dyke! a queerass ladyfaggot bitch! oh you wanna stab me? i'm a goddamned sword golem, motherfucker!

obviously there's a time and a place. the above not-hypothetical guy shouted at me on a busy melbourne street where i was confident enough i'd be defended and/or a sympathetic victim if he turned violent; and that's not always assured. but when it's safe, holding words of power, words meant to hurt me, definitely makes me feel safe powerful and and strong... especially compared to constantly running on a treadmill of ever changing "acceptable" terms mostly invented years after i came out.

i mean, i've had a crucifix-wearing psychiatrist say "LGBT person" at me with such dripping hatred that i knew she would lock me in the psych ward as punishment for my sin if she had the slightest chance... anything we call ourselves will become a word of hatred for people that hate us. and let me tell you, being able to turn it back around and say "actually i prefer to be called queer" at her, and seeing the shock in her face contrasted against the stifled smirk of her subordinate next to her.... it feels good! real good. a sharp word of power deployed tactically at the right time can teach a bigot that they can't control you, because you've got the courage and anger to fight back.

of course, words of power have to be wielded willingly. i'm proud to be queer, but i know that word doesn't sit right with everyone (the word gay doesn't sit right with me, i get it), so i try to keep mental tabs on my friends and keep words to myself depending on company. (people that insist i change my beloved identity because they don't like it get cut out of my life). and if some abled shithead is trying to force """help""" on me i'm happy joke about my "cripple skills", but i'd never call another disabled person that word unless i'd heard them self identify with it first, because it's up to each and every one of us what we're comfortable with.

anyway, i think i rambled away from the original point a bit... but yeah, hope that kinda answers.

TL;DR i think trap is a fine word if people want to use it, because despite its literal etymology being pretty awful as you describe, it also has some positive cultural use, and words always exist in some context; there's no such thing as a word without context. i wouldn't die on the hill of defending that specific word, but i do have a fortress on the hill of "let people use whatever words they want for themselves, even and especially 'slurs'" that i will defend to the death.

also. if i could psionically project a gif of admiral ackbar in midair every time a radiologists asks me if i there's a chance i'm pregnant, i 100% would.

[kirain]

Hazbin Hotel and VivziePop Drama

I've been hearing/seeing a lot of drama concerning Hazbin Hotel and it's creator VivziePop, and while I don't know her personally or really care what people think, I do hate slander and the spread of misinformation. Truly nothing in this world upsets me more than when people believe rumours while making no effort to fact check, and that's exactly what's happening right now. That said, I wanted to try and clear up some of the rumours going around about Vivzie and the show, because I think some of them are absolutely outrageous and need to be addressed.

1. Vivzie hired an abuser onto the show.

Now, I’m not here to burn anyone at the stake, especially since I don’t know anything about Chris Niosi (the alleged abuser), who I believe openly admitted to the allegations? Regardless, this is a moot point. He’s not credited anywhere at the end of the episode. So either he was booted before production wrapped up or he had nothing to do with the show in the first place.

2. Vivzie supports bestiality.

Admittedly I thought this one might be true, since she draws so many anthropomorphic animals. In the very least, I figured she was probably a furry, but I haven't seen any evidence supporting this accusation either. Near as I can tell, this rumour started for two reasons. One, because of her famous Zoophobia comic, which revolves around a therapist named Cameron who gets assigned to work with human-like animals. Ironically, poor Cameron suffers from crippling zoophobia, which makes for some pretty decent comedy. I didn't read the whole comic because, quite frankly, it’s not my cup of tea and I just don’t have the time. But from what I saw there are no examples of bestiality anywhere in its contents.

Two, this message, which blew up all over social media:

To me, this just proves that people are more interested in virtue signalling than checking to see if their claims are actually true. Everything about this message is 100% false, which I’ll touch on in my next point.

3. Vivzie is a pedophile and she’s drawn child porn.

This is hands down the worst allegation and holy shit, I really wish people would stop using it to defame someone when they don't have any proof. This is a life-ruining accusation and you're disgusting if you believe it based solely on hearsay. This rumour began to spread when Vivzie allegedly shipped the two underage characters in the above photo and drew them NSFW-style. At the time, one character was 19 while the other was 14, and the relationship was a very illegal student-teacher relationship.

This is WRONG! The characters were not 14 and 19, they were actually 18 and 19, the legal age of consent! Additionally, the relationship wasn't student-teacher. One character is a student and the other is Alumni (a student teacher). This one pisses me off the most because it’s obvious the person who sent that message didn’t even bother to conduct any research. They said, “He’s a teacher, she’s a child.” Both characters are MALE!

Since then, Vivzie has apologised for any NSFW art she drew in the past and stated that it's not a reflection of her art today, and I'm inclined to believe her. Almost every artist has drawn NSFW content at some point in their career, and hers wasn't even distasteful. Other than this one example, there is no evidence anywhere that suggests she’s drawn “child porn”. In fact, she’s never even drawn explicit NSFW.

Please stop spreading this rumour. It’s dangerous and completely incorrect.

4. Vivzie said the "N" word!

No, she didn’t. It was a fabricated tweet. That is all.

5. Vivzie is copyright striking every video that criticises her!

No she isn't. YouTube’s DMCA is automatically striking people who are using full clips without permission. Vivzie has gone public several times, telling people exactly how to avoid getting a copy strike from the algorithm, which is something she absolutely does not have to do. At this point, she doesn't owe you anything. In my opinion, she should just sit back and watch these channels burn.

6. Vivzie copies and traces other artists’ work.

This is another one I’ve seen going around, but I looked into it as thoroughly as I could and failed to find any concrete evidence to support the allegations. As of right now, there are only two examples of Vivzie “copying” or “tracing” other artists’ work, and both of them can be explained. The first is a gif she made with a character from her Zoophobia comic, which looked a lot like the girl from ME!ME!ME!:

Damn, that’s pretty incriminating. She obviously stole-- oh, wait. This gif was part of a ME!ME!ME! MEP (multi editor’s project) and Vivzie didn’t take full credit, despite the fact that it’s not even a direct trace. It’s supposed to look like the original, which she fully cited. The second example comes from a short dance sequence from her Timber video, which seems to have been inspired by several Disney movies. As Vivzie herself stated, that was an homage to the original animations. Lots of artists and shows do this, including the beloved Stephen Universe series.

Regardless, this doesn’t count as stealing character designs or plagiarising someone’s work. It’s meant to be respectful, an admiration of other projects. Other than these two instances, however, there is no evidence of her tracing or stealing other people’s art. From what I’ve discovered, all other designs she’s been accused of “stealing” are characters she bought and paid for. They’re quite literally HER characters.

7. Vivzie supports problematic creators.

I’m getting really tired of guilt by association. Vivzie follows and enjoys some controversial figures, but who cares? We can argue all day about whether or not the accusations against them are true, but it ultimately has nothing to do with the show or Vivzie as a person. I do the exact same thing, to be honest-- follow and listen to people on all sides so I can learn, understand, and form my own opinions. The fact that some people think this is bad, to me, is absolutely mesmerising. Vivzie doesn’t control what the people she follows post, and if they do something overly questionable she publicly criticises and denounces it.

From Vivzie:

Now that that’s been dealt with, I’d like to address some complaints/claims about the actual show.

8. Vaggie is an angry Latina stereotype and a lesbian stereotype. Vivzie is appropriating Hispanic culture and misrepresenting the gay for profit.

First off, I see a lot of people passing around yet more misinformation regarding Vivzie's race. So many people seem to think she's white? Well, I'm here to tell you they're wrong. Very incorrect. Vivzie is in fact Latina, and Vaggie is meant to mirror some of her own personality traits.

Second, who is Vaggie mad at? Context matters, and if we take a look at the episode, we see that Vaggie is literally only mad at two specific people: Angel Dust and Alastor. Why? Well, for starters, it's her girlfriend's dream to run a rehab hotel for sinners, and Angel Dust nearly demolishes that dream single-handedly. Vaggie has every right to be over-the-top vitriolic. Then there's Alastor, a known sadist, narcissist, and murderer who loves trapping people in his nefarious schemes. He invites himself in, effectively takes over the hotel, and pushes both her and Charlie aside. At one point he even sexually assaults her by slapping her butt during his musical number. So yeah, I think her seething ire is totally justified. Keep in mind, however, that when she's around Charlie she's calm, collected, and happy. I wouldn't call that a stereotype.

Thirdly, the lesbian stereotypes. I keep hearing this argument but I really don't see it. Both Vaggie and Charlie have so much personality and trust for each other. Maybe I'm wrong, but the stereotype I know always totes a more butch, tomboyish woman with a ditsy, innocent, naive woman. Charlie is optimistic, but she isn't stupid. She refuses to shake Alastor’s hand because she knows he’s likely trying to screw her over. She’s also not entirely innocent herself and uses words like “fuck” and “shit”. I also wouldn’t call Vaggie butch or tomboyish. She has a cute, girly presentation, complete with a pink ribbon in her hair, lace stockings, and a dress. She's protective of her girlfriend, as I think we all are with our partners, and there's nothing wrong with that. They're flawed characters, as every character is meant to be. This isn't a problem.

9. The show is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, blah, blah, blah.

I’m amazed this is even an argument. The show is supposed to be a dark comedy that takes place in HELL. You know, the place the worst of the worst end up after they die? What were you expecting? Everyone gets a shot or two fired at them, but that doesn't make them bad characters nor does it make the show itself horrible. Take, for example, Katie Killjoy, the news reporter so many people are up in arms about. She says she doesn’t “touch the gays” because she has “standards”. Well, here’s a newsflash of my own: we’re not supposed to like her! She’s an antagonist. Not to mention ten seconds later Charlie insults her and isn’t the least bit slighted by her pretentious attitude. The characters are strong and don’t take shit from anyone, because to some degree they’re all terrible people who can throw down when it’s called for.

Obviously if you don’t like the show or think it’s offensive, I’m probably not going to change your mind. That’s perfectly fine. You’re entitled to your opinions and you don’t have to watch the show. Just stop lying and stop trying to take it away from everybody else. Stop attacking Vivzie and spreading misinformation without checking the facts. I realise a lot of people probably aren’t trying to be vindictive and only want to do something good, but just remember this: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

[amygdalagustd]

Kim Namjoon on Identity

Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?

The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.

From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:

“Who the hell am I?”

It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:

Straight A student and underground rapper

I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded

I just wanted to succeed

because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it

The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there

But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment

I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing

My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass

The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports

Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease

Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?

I secretly raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

I again raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:

To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big

that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world

I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,

I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me

I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage

BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.

Idol and artist

The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?

Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:

Every night I fight myself inside me

My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back

saying I became a cripple after going into a company

Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol

I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title

Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,

I now fully accept myself, and I just do me

Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered

The way you guys look at me was what defined me

I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me

Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed

Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:

You can call me artist

You can call me idol

Or you can call me anything else

I don’t care

I’m proud of it

I’m free

No more irony

Because I’ve been me all the time

You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all

Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,

I know what I am

I know what I want

I never gon’ change

I never gon’ trade

Why do you talk loud “blah blah”

I do what I do, so mind your own business

You can’t stop me loving’ myself

Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.

RM and Namjoon

In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.

In episode 6, Namjoon said:

Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.

Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.

Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.

Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:

There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.

He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:

Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?

25, I still don’t know how to live well

For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.

Rap Monster and RM

Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.

In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.

In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:

Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.

Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.

Map of the Soul

The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.

Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?

In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:

“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life

A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for

If I were answerable with only a few words,

God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties

Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.

BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:

There are tens and hundreds of myself within me

Today, I greet my another self

They are all me after all,

so I just run rather than worrying

The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.

In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:

Yeah my name is R

The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know

The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind

Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying

But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul

The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:

Dear myself

You must never lose your temperature

because you don’t need to be warm or cold

Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,

this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set

The ‘me’ who I want to be

The ‘me’ who people want

The ‘me’ who you love

And the ‘me’ who I craft

The ‘me’ who’s smiling

The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes

Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now

Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.

All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.

[jamboreeofsurprises]

I might regret admitting this, but i feel like i might as well open up about it. i can always delete it later lol.

A lot of my dysphoria is gender related, but some of it is age related as well and I feel like this is a difficult concept for most people to wrap their minds around. Depression started with the onset of puberty for me. it felt like the beginning of things going downhill, and it has, for the most part, continually gotten worse throughout my teen years and now into adulthood. i never looked forward to growing up whatsoever and the fact that everyone else did only further enforced these feelings. it created a great sense of isolation to feel so differently about all these disturbing changes everyone else seemed ready and excited for. the only person i've ever seen who expressed similar sadness about the end of childhood is the artist henry darger. he felt like it was losing important and precious that he would never be able to get back, and that's how i feel about it too. when i still wanted to play with toys, my friends had already grown past that and lost interest and got rid of theirs and it gravely upset me. i didn't want this, but you have to accept as a living being that you have to grow up.

regardless of how i feel about this, i've tried, of course, to do 'grown up' things as you should as you get older, i went to college, took up some more responsibilities, have a job, have other outlets for money, pay taxes, pay for my things etc., but i have always gravely lagged behind where other people seem capable of doing things. i am 24 now and still feel the same as i did when i was about 12. maybe that isn't that strange, but i don't look that different either. i have childish interests. i fit into most of the same clothes (and actually weigh even less). i'm average height but didn't otherwise grow or change very much. because of gender dysphoria, i'm relieved about this. a lot of people still address or treat me like i'm a child and it's because i look and act like one. but i don't know that i even want to or if it's just because i'm chronically immature.

one of the biggest avenues for 'adult pain' to me is driving. i can't do it. it gives me such bad sensory overload and i've seen my own death via car crash in my mind so many times and to be honest with you i'm pretty sure thats the way im going to go. but because i live in california where it's basically required (and i really dont want to leave here), and my parents, and all my peers here, can do it just fine, and have been doing it since they were teenagers, i have to just do it. so okay i try. and ive already been in like 3 accidents. no they weren't serious but i can't do it. everyone else i know does not have that kind of luck with it. but every time i pleaded with my parents repeatedly that i can't do it they just told me to keep trying and now that i'm moved out they made me the owner of the van. because my mom's mom couldn't drive which 'made her basically crippled' in my mom's words, im going to be a disappointment if i can't do it. but i absolutely cant do it.

someone at a desk today needed to know my age and when i answered it they had some disbelief and asked for it again. when something stupid happens like a car accident and i prove again that im just a dumb child, it make me feel a thousand times more embarrassed than if i actually looked and felt like an adult. because it really does just make me a scared incapable little kid all over again.

i dont even know what's autism or what's dysphoria sometimes but i always need so much fucking help with everything to a humiliating extent. my childhood friend was already cooking and maintaining the house when we were little and driving all over the place as soon as they were old enough too. i cant do any of that now. i can barely fry a god damn egg. and the pressure is on all the time because my friends and parents could do all of it way younger than me. im so tired of being me. im so tired of looking and feeling this way and not being able to do anything.

[mourninglamby]

i dont remember if ur the artist i follow thats a wilbur apologist but if so you have such good takes .. like u put my thoughts into words (if this is the wrong person / ur not actually a wilbur apologist you have full permission to cut me open with zigzag scissors)

oh no dude im definitely c!wilbur apologist leaning. i adore wilbur for the same reason why i dislike him. not to be cringe but i used to kinda disregard him as a tragic villain when i first got into dsmp. then then i took like 20 "what dsmp character are you" quizzes and got him almost every time so naturally i was like aw well. okay. uh. time to deep dive. and the rest was history. and i hope this isnt taken as some narcissistic projection of my problems into a woobified malleable blob version of wilburs character. i just think that its (so far, idk abt his current arc but im hoping he leans towards redemption) one of the rawest tellings of the ugliness that follows untreated depression and suicidal ideation, as well as the crippling embarrassment of how you failed everyone by being so mentally compromised so you have an inherent hunger for self destruction since that's apparently all you know how to do anymore, and to rip everything youve ever done apart, including yourself. Thats just something I can relate to in some ways.

Additionally I'd say it's just that aforementioned struggle with mental health while also denying/being unable to get help that gets to me the most. every other character is also scarred but nobody fell as hard and as far as he did from that moral tightrope the dsmp characters traverse. He didn't want to be that way. He was dealt a shitty hand, it's not like he wished for horrible things to happen like c!dream. He just wouldn't let himself admit he was hurting and take those steps to seek help. That's absolutely no excuse for how he neglected his son and his friends and CERTAINLY does not excuse his debilitating dependency on tommy. But there's a way back. You can't throw themes of suicide and abuse into your story and not give the characters a happy ending, that just sends a shitty message. Regardless though, at the end of the day, Wilbur is just an extremely sad man who lost everything, wanted to get lost with it, and eventually let himself fall victim to his delusions of persecution. He hates himself and thinks everyone hates him, so what does he have left to lose?

So I'm just here waiting for the day he finally realizes he hurt not only the people he loved but the people who loved him; who didn't see him as a leader or a president or a loose cannon, but as family. That's gonna be fucking bonkers.

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Evangelion 3.0- You Can (Not) Redo

What is the point of remaking Evangelion?

That question hangs over the Rebuilds like a storm cloud. Evangelion the TV show, and its movie conclusion End of Eva, endure as anime staples to this day. It’s a story that’s just as captivating now as when it came out over two decades ago. It doesn’t need a remake to remain relevant; I doubt Eva will ever stop being relevant, at least for a very long time. And say what you want about Hideaki Anno, he’s never been the kind of guy to create art for the sake of cynically milking cash from his audience. So the only reason to remake it is if there’s something more to say. Something that the original show and movie didn’t quite capture, something that Anno desperately needs to contribute to the never-ending conversation he started so long ago. But what is that something? For what reason does this story need to be told anew? As much as I enjoyed the first two Rebuilds, they don’t really do a good job of answering that question. 1.0 literally just repeats the show shot for shot. 2.0 mostly condenses and remixes stuff that’s already happened, but less good and more needlessly indulgent. We’re halfway through the Rebuilds and we still don’t understand why this movie series even exists. And after 2.0′s barn-burner of a finale, I was hopeful that 3.0 would finally deliver the answers I was waiting for.

Then I watched 3.0.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, You Can (Not) Redo is utterly fucking amazing. It’s a statement of purpose that makes every unanswered question click into place. It’s a staggering work of artistic vision. It’s a statement of purpose like a lightning bolt from hell. It blows everything about the previous two Rebuilds out of the water so effortlessly, it honestly makes them feel worse by comparison. It’s everything I hoped it would be and so, so much more. Whether or not it’s truly on par with the original Evangelion, I don’t know; I guess I’ll have to wait for the final movie to answer that question. But for the first time since I started watching the Rebuilds, I finally feel like this series can match up to the original Evangelion. It can live up to its staggering legacy. Somehow, Anno and his team at Studio Khara have written a new chapter in this franchise’s legacy that genuinely feels like it’s adding to the conversation. And it comes in the form of a movie that’s just as heartwrenching, just as pulse-pounding, just as wretched, and just as beautiful as the tale that’s lead it here.

It’s also a very disorienting movie, which is entirely the point. We cold-open fourteen years after Shinji caused the Third Impact at the end of the last movie, fourteen years that Shinji’s essentially spent in cryosleep as the world has collapsed and struggled back to post-apocalyptic life. When he’s finally wokem up, he finds himself in a world where everything is changed, everything is broken, and barely anything resembles the people and places he left behind. And just as he reels from this staggering information overload, the movie doesn’t slow down to explain anything until around halfway through. The first twenty minutes are nearly non-stop action, showing off the new status quo in a barrage of futuristic technology, breathtaking monster fights, and sweeping apocalyptic landscapes. It’s an absolutely insane rush, tossing both us and Shinji from one jaw-dropping setpiece to the next with barely a moment to catch our breath. At times, it’s so overwhelming that the shock and awe almost becomes numbing. So much technobabble and barely explained high concept fuckery is thrown around that it’s all but impossible to get a read on what’s actually going on between the chaos. You’d think this would be a crippling flaw, but honestly, Evangelion’s plot and lore have always been kind of an incomprehensible clusterfuck, so 3.0′s just carrying on that tradition if anything. And it definitely puts us right in Shinji’s head as he’s assaulted with the innumerable ways that things have changed. “Welcome to the new world,” it seems to say. “Now get up to speed, because we’re not slowing down for you.”

And what a new world it is. The planet is awash in the kind of stunning imagery that would feel right at home in Berserk. Mountains of red bodies, blood dripping from oversized heads, seas burned crimson and teeming with alien life, NERV headquarters reduced to a bombed-out Gothic shell of its former self, and a climactic fight that takes place on an underground mountain of skulls in the shadow of a fossilized titan that dwarfs even the Evas. The grungy realism that defined the show’s aesthetic has been replaced with a majestic, almost Dark Souls-ian portrait of an incomprehensibly primordial universe on the brink of erasing itself from existence. It even makes some genuinely fantastic use of CG during the battles, amping up their scope to mind-numbing extremes. And the cinematography is just as fractured as the world it portrays; at times, the framing, lighting and editing seem to cast the environments as a grand stage upon which actors say their lines. Spotlights shine down on characters without a source. Shaft-esque expressionistic flairs dominate the movie’s conversation-heavy middle chunk. Just like at the show’s end, the fabric of the story itself is beginning to come undone from the shock of what it’s been forced to endure. It hasn’t devolved to the pure abstraction of the final two episodes yet, but the warning signs are all there. Things can’t go on like this much longer. Sooner or later, this world is going to unravel again.

And yet, for all this bleakness and despair, one thing that can’t be denied is that this movie is fucking awesome. It kicks so much ass on so many levels that it’s impossible to keep track of all the amazing moments. I can’t even count how many times it made me shriek with glee as it pulled off yet another Gurren Lagann-worthy setpiece. Evas dueling in the shadow of a god’s withered husk! Evas fighting Angels in space! Captain Katsuragi commanding an army of anti-NERV warriors with unparalleled badassery! AND MOTHER! FUCKING! ASUKA! God, this movie fixes everything wrong with Asuka from the last movie. Every attack she makes, every blow she takes, every Angel she thrashes, every impossible plan she carries out through sheer force of will, all of it left me screaming with joy. It’s like we’re getting to see post-EOE Asuka, the Asuka who conquered her self-loathing and smashed the Eva series to bits, finally get to cut loose and kick some fucking ass. It’s amazing! It’s absolutely fucking amazing! It’s like the past fourteen years turned her into a Gunbuster protagonist! Actually, that’s how all the anti-NERV warriors come off: a colorful cast of misfits stolen from a much more upbeat mecha anime and thrust into a dying world, facing down the post-apocalypse with undying spirit despite the impossible odds. Even though we barely spend any time with them, they feel so lived-in and fleshed out that I could imagine an entire anime series just about them fighting to keep humanity’s flame alive after the Third Impact. It fucking rules.

And Shinji get to enjoy none of it.

Which finally brings me to the point of the whole thing. The reason the Rebuilds had to exist. Why this timeless story was worth continuing. And yes, I do mean “continuing.” Because despite ostensibly being a re-telling, what 3.0 makes clear is that the Rebuilds are true thematic sequels to the original show. They’re not meant to be your first experience with Evangelion; at least, their true impact is lost if you haven’t seen the show already. No, these movies are meant for those who have already been marinating in the NGE stew ever since it first came out and changed anime forever. These movies are for the lost, lonely kids who saw themselves in Shinji whether they wanted to or not. These movies are for the Eva fans who have never been able to stop thinking about it.

These movies are for the Shinjis of the world who never managed to grow up.

Neon Genesis Evangelion came out a full decade before Anno decided to remake it. In that time, those who first watched it as teenagers would grow up into adults. Some of them managed to take Eva’s lessons to heart. They learned to love themselves, to find peace with their demons, to embrace the world no matter how much it scared them to do so. But some of them didn’t. Some of them remained scared and small, a prisoner to their selfishness, their terror, their helplessness. Shinji was able to start the healing process despite all the shit he went through; in real life, not everyone is so lucky. And now, much like Shinji in this movie, those lost kids are faced with an adult world that’s so different from the world they knew, a world where everything is different, everything is broken, everything is a million times harder to deal with... and they’re still fourteen years old, grappling with the same demons that paralyzed them so long ago. Reliving the same memories, making the same mistakes, searching for a way out while stagnating in their comfort zones. And faced with what they can’t understand or accept, all they can do is continue to suffer as they always have.

All they can do... is redo.

None of us will ever destroy the world with our mistakes. None of us will ever be the unwitting key to Armageddon. But there are times when we’ve all felt trapped by our mistakes. There are times when it feels like we’re doomed to keep messing up over and over again, unable to improve or fix what’s broken. Shinji doomed the world to save a single girl, and now he has to face that. He has to face the cruel, unflinching truths of a world he’s ruined, the dark secrets and hidden agendas that brought him to this point. Everyone else has grown up, moved on, created a new world from the wreckage he left behind. But he is still fourteen years old, afraid, grasping for an answer that never comes. The eternal otaku surrogate protagonist has been left behind by time, trapped reliving the same old memories as the people he once cared about become alien and the consequences of his actions grind his soul into dirt. An adult who never got over being a teenager. Who never learned to love himself. Who never figured out how to break the unhealthy cycles he was trapped in. He is fourteen now just as he was fourteen years ago, and unless something changes, he’ll forever remain a child in a world with no more place for him.

Cast in that light, the point behind the first two Rebuilds being what they are becomes abundantly clear. Shinji, just like the audience, is still stuck on Evangelion. He’s stuck reliving the same events, the same memories, searching for meaning without finding the strength to move past it. 1.0 and 2.0 are a comfort zone for Eva fans. They’re familiar. They’re unchallenging. 2.0 in particular is more indulgent and coddling, with its simplified dialogue and aggressive fanservice. They’re what it feels like to be frozen in time, relearning the same lessons without ever moving forward. And then in comes 3.0, shattering that comfort zone to pieces and exposing the audience to the sudden, cruel reality they’ve been hiding from. It forces them to confront the passage of time, their alienation from the world, the fact they’ve just been making the same mistakes over and over again. It forces them to realize that just like Shinji, they never managed to grow up. The comforting illusion those first two movies created was nothing more than the fear of change made manifest. But as much as some may wish to live in the world of 1.0 and 2.0, it’s the world of 3.0 they must have to face. The world where nothing makes sense, where nothing is fair, where your flaws are laid bare and there’s nowhere to run, where time moves forward whether you’re moving with it or not. It’s a final wake-up call to those who are still Shinji to this day, asking them once again... to try.

Which brings me, at last, to Kaworu.

Kaworu was one of the weirdest parts of the original show. He appears out of nowhere in one of the last episodes, has an entire love story with Shinji, and then dies like Jesus for the otaku hero’s sins, all in the space of 26 incredibly esoteric minutes. He wasn’t so much a character as he was a mangled plot device who barely worked as part of the story, even as the thematic point he represented was essential to the show’s overall message. But in 3.0, at last, we see Kaworu as he was meant to be. A fully realized character full of stirring emotion, a loving bond built up with Shinji naturally over beautiful moments of connection, and an ultimate sacrifice that ripped my heart out of my fucking chest. This is the tragic beauty that this character was always meant to represent, finally unfettered by production hell and painted in vivid color. Kaworu Nagisa made me laugh. He made me cry. He made me believe in his love for Shinji ten thousand times more than the original show ever managed. Seriously, that piano duet scene was so unspeakably beautiful, I don’t know how I survived.

And it’s in this scene that Kaworu once again becomes the thematic lynchpin tying everything together. Because his message to Shinji is the message of these Rebuilds: keep trying. Practice the same thing over and over until you get it right, and then move on to even better things. Don’t give up because it seems hard or impossible. Don’t give up because you think it’ll never work. Keep trying. Keep fighting. Even when tragedy strikes, hold onto hope. Because even if you can’t redo the past, you can redo how you approach the future. No mistake is unforgivable, no failure unfixable, no cycle so broken that you can never escape it.

All it takes is the courage to stare the end of the world in the face and say: “Fuck it, I’m going to try again.”

Evangelion 3.0 is a stunning achievement. As pure cinema, it’s a triumph. As a continuation of Evangelion, it’s a masterpiece. As a message for all the Shinjis of the world who remain trapped by their worst impulses, it’s damn near spiritual. I have no idea how the final movie is going to wrap things up, what conclusion it will ultimately arrive at. But after the heights this one reached, I have full confidence that it’s gonna stick the landing. One way or another, Evangelion is going to end again. And this time, maybe we can finally break free of despair and let it carry us through hell into a brighter future. Until then, though, I’ll have to settle for giving this movie a score of:

9.5/10

The only reason it’s not a 10 is because I’m still waiting for that final movie to see if this whole experiment really does end up on par with the original NGE. Hopefully it won’t be too much longer before I get to that one. I’ve remained mercifully unspoiled for so long, and my anticipation could not be higher. Thank you all, and I’ll see you next time as Evangelion ends one last time.

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

[hopeaterart]

RWBY HPTR AU: Timeline

More of my embarrassingly self-indulgent AU. It tackles the timeline of events happening before the show starts. For those for who it's the first time here: most of the antagonists in the show are students at Beacon here, hence why the 63 A.G.W. point is probably a bit confusing, as well as the presence of many, many OCs. Warning: Very Ozpin-centric, especially at the beginning, because I'm insane and constructed a whole backstory for this man. If you want me to add something to the timeline, or have questions about the AU, just ask. ^^

(REFERENCE: A.G.W. stands for After Great War.)

34 A.G.W.: Ozborn Pinhead is born to con-artists living in the mountains of Vale.

45 A.G.W.: King Ozymandias Valenoa dies. On a side-note, Aura Lycoris is born.

46 A.G.W.: Ozymandias/Ozma reincarnates into Ozborn the moment he hits puberty. A few months later, Ozborn runs away from home to join a Collibet Monastery.

(REFERENCE: Collibet is branch of religion in the world of Remnant. It's followers' main belief is that life is to be enjoyed to it's fullest, and they have to help people enjoy it. Their worship is mainly centered on the God of Light.)

51 A.G.W.: Ozborn decides to enroll in Beacon for multiple reasons. He's placed in Team DSOO with Cadmium Duat, Zephyr Olympia, and Jade Sheng. He will become very close to Jade, almost like siblings. She's the one who coins the Ozpin nickname.

52 A.G.W.: Vytal festival happens in Haven. Ozborn ends up being finalist instead of his teammate through circumstances that went against his will, and ends up befriending fellow finalist from Shade Theodore Yellowstone, as well as a Faunus competitor from Haven called Leonardo Lionheart. Theodore is the winner.

53 A.G.W.: During a training mission that brought them to Solitas, Team DSOO ends up working with James Ironwood. Even if difficult to work with, Ozborn forms a tentative friendship with him, which they'll maintain through CCT communications. Ozborn also accidently ends up mentoring a first year named Glynda Goodwitch.

54 A.G.W.: Team STRQ enrolls in Beacon. Ozborn ends up being their mentor (intentionally this time) through a mentorship program at Beacon. Summer Rose is the winner of the Vytal Festival, having beaten Ironwood. After warning them that the truth isn't pretty, Ozborn comes clean about his cycle of reincarnation to Jade, STRQ, Glynda, Theodore, Lionheart and Ironwood, as well as Salem and her immortality. The only one unwilling to get involved is Taiyang Xiao Long, who can see that Ozborn absolutely does not want to be in this situation, thinks he's in way over his head and probably needs to take some distance from Huntsman business. Qrow and Raven are given their bird powers.

55 A.G.W.: Having taken Taiyang's opinion on the situation to heart, Ozborn decides to take a step back and go back in the Monastery he grew up in in order to become a Priest. Jade joins him in a show of support.

57 A.G.W.: Ozborn gets ordained, and he and Jade promptly go on a pilgrimage together with one very clear objective in mind: fuck Salem over. They find her at the end of the year, successfully lie to Salem about Ozborn's identity and fool her into thinking they want to join her side. On a side note, Gretchen Reinhart, Hazel Reinhart and Winter Schnee are all born.

58 A.G.W.: After getting out of Salem the secret to her immortality and the location of the God of Light's pool/former residence, Ozborn and Jade run away in the night in order for Ozborn to get similar immortality. Salem finds out about the betrayal, successfully kills Jade before Ozborn can go in the pool, and permanently cripples him with a magical attack that destroys his leg in a way that the pool's magic isn't able to completely fix. Ozborn still obtains immortality, permanently changing the game. He also sheds away the identity of Ozborn Pinhead, and renames himself after Jade's nickname for him.

59 A.G.W.: Ozpin comes back, and marries Taiyang, Raven Branwen and Summer Rose together. He also enrolls in Beacon as the Myth & Religion teacher.

60 A.G.W.: Desperate to get back at Ozpin after such an humiliating defeat, Salem takes a teenage Aura Lycoris under her wing.

62 A.G.W.: Aura starts the deep-undercover operation of gaining Ozpin's trust, starting by enrolling into Beacon.

63 A.G.W.: Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladona, Jaune Arc, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren, Arthur Watts, Tyrian Callows, Cinder Fall, Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, Roman Brunswick, Trivia Vanille, Ochre Wedjat, Raoul Arsenic, Wilhemia Key and Lys Rosenbed are all born. On a side-note, Ozpin and Qrow start a tentative romantic relationship at the end of the year.

65 A.G.W.: Ruby Rose is born.

66 A.G.W.: Aura graduates, and goes on a small pause in her mission in order to clean up some loose ends on Salem's part.

67 A.G.W.: Summer dies on a mission gone wrong (Unless/until we get something specific, Aura's partially responsible in my AU). Overwhelmed and disillusioned by the demise of the woman she loved, Raven abandons the rest of her family and goes back to the Branwen tribe. Both Taiyang and Qrow are left broken by this series of events, and Qrow ends up falling to alcoholism, leaving Ozpin to pick up the broken pieces of the inner circle. On a side note, both Oscar Pine and Whitley Schnee are born.

68 A.G.W.: Following a convoluted series of events that leaves Oscar orphaned for a total of maybe an hour before Ozpin adopts him, the wizard finally starts getting his shit back together, and starts formulating a plan to get back on his feet properly. On a side-note, Marcus Black steals his son's- Mercury- Semblance.

69 A.G.W.: Ozpin successfully becomes Beacon's headmaster, and promptly pulls strings to put Theodore, Lionheart and Ironwood in the same positions in their respective kingdoms. He also makes Glynda into his successor to the position. Meanwhile, Aura joins his staff as the Study Hall teacher/supervisor. Kuroyuri is destroyed by the Nuckelavee, orphaning Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie.

72 A.G.W.: Mountain Glenn is destroyed. Ozpin is able to save a few people at the last minute, including the Reinhart twins, thus inspiring Gretchen to become a Huntress. On a side note, James Ironwood becomes General, and thus Atlas' Chief of Armies, and gains a second seat on the Atlesian Council. The rest of the inner circle has mixed feelings about this, mostly negative.

73 A.G.W.: After a very long time of frustration at the Atlesian Council, Hagatha Greene snaps after a combination of her project being denied in favor of Pietro's, and being forced to work with an actual child (10 years old Arthur Watts). She's approached by Salem via Aura, and fakes her death. On a side note, the Brunswick farm is invaded by Apathy, forcing Roman to run away. He'll later stow himself away to Vale and rename himself Torchwick in order to cut ties with his past.

74 A.G.W.: Lionheart is forced to inform the Spring Maiden about what Salem can do. Overwhelmed, she runs away to the Branwen tribe. Lionheart himself latter approached by Greene, who more-or-less blackmails him into joining Salem. He calls Ozpin to know what he's supposed to do, and ends up becoming a double-agent. On a side-note, Gretchen signs up for Beacon, and Winter for Atlas in her first step to distance herself from her family.

76 A.G.W.: Gretchen is severely wounded on a training mission. Since her body was never found, it was assumed she died. Despite knowing that he'd probably be attacked on sight- and he was- Ozpin is able to provide Hazel with a bit of peace concerning the demise of his sister. Unknown to the both of them, Gretchen was actually found by Salem's circle and brought to her in order to get a new underling. On a side-note, the Spring Maiden dies and passes the power to Raven.

77 A.G.W.: Cinder and Arthur meet off-handedly while running away from Atlas for different reasons (Cinder is running from the Madame, Arthur from the military) due to sneaking on the same cargo ship. They separate after. Cinder ends up staying in Mistral, while Arthur wanders around Anima and ends up meeting Tyrian, who's part of a circus. Tyrian ends up following Arthur, who intends on getting to Vale as fast as possible. The two end up becoming fast friends after some initial frostiness. Trivia also runs away from home and meets Roman, and renames herself Neopolitan after the imaginary friend she had in her childhood.

78 A.G.W.: Cinder meets Emerald in the streets of Mistral, and the two bond over their dreams of becoming Huntresses. After Cinders remembers something Arthur told her about Beacon having a program for students like them, the two girls set off for Beacon.

79 A.G.W.: Marcus is hired to assassinate Ozpin, and fails in this task. Some time after, Cinder and Emerald, who recently got to Vale, cross path with Mercury, who's running away from his abusive father after a savage fight with him due to the man cutting off his legs. Marcus joins Salem after.

(AMBIGUOUS TIME PERIOD: Somewhere in the 70s, Aura found and started forming all the members of Team ORKL. I don't have a precise time period, but for those curious, the order she found them in was: Raoul, Lys, Ochre and Whilemia.)

80 A.G.W.: The story starts.

[mrpenguinpants]

PENGU I FOUND A SONG THAT FITS PERFECTLY WITH XIAO AND I CANT STOP LISTENING TO IT

Its called Hope by Nathan Wagner and I swear it's so emotional I almost cried ;-;

So many of the lyrics fit with him and his past, and you could totally make it a ship song too with the traveller, Venti or whoever (I personally picture the traveller)

Just...I PROMISE you won't be disappointed I'm just...obsessed

Vsimp anon (hehe yup it's me 👉😎👉)

OHOHO?? IS IT TIME FOR SUFFERING?? ITS BARELY NOON AND I’M READY TO DRINK THE PAIN AWAY. Link to the song: Hope

I’ve never heard of that song before but I’m listening to it now and I completely agree with you. YO THAT ENDING HALF THO??? I think the only other song I can think off the top of my head that gives me deep emotional vibes is “It’s time” by Imagine Dragons. Except that one is happy and this one is suffering. 

I know when I first started writing, I definitely listened to songs to get in the mood. Potsu - Just friends was a big one for me but it’s mainly the mv someone made. I’m going off on a tangent here but monogatari has really good edited mv. Another favourite is “Kiss me baby”  with “Malibu” by Lucys

But getting back on track, yesyesyes. The lyrics absolutely fit Xiao and the ship dynamic between him and the traveler?? I am constantly crippled by ship dynamics of “Person A has deep emotional vulnerability and Person B is a fucking ray of sunshine that does their best to help Person A love themselves”. I’ve been rewatching old korean shows and ahem, highschool rapper season 2 is a big one for me. 

maagdalen has been sharing her playlists with me and I have another friend that’s slowly feeding me kpop (honestly, never really got into kpop but IU is one of the few artists that I really like). If you ever find any more song recommendations I am open ears. 

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind  switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

[tomorrazon]

i think that i am sad

i don't even know what i get from putting this out there, maybe just something

some closure about telling the void i guess

nearly 2 months of school and i havent made a single friend. i never really had friends when i was a kid. my friends were my teachers but mostly the librarian and the special ed teacher. i finally started making friends in highschool but i shouldve known that it wasnt going to last. i am always so jealous and bitter at parents who post their kids when no one came to their party, and they get sent hundreds of gifts. where was that for me at all of my birthdays where i was alone. that poor 10 year old alone on her birthday didnt get hundreds of gifts, she just got her dad, scrambling, trying his best. but now, years later, he instead blames you for no one coming. i could keep going, but it’s all hollow. burning out for the first time in my life. having to put down two of my only friends days before school didnt help either. some days i only had consolation in my little lady and i cant even have that anymore. shattered my phone the other day. having to deal with the crippling weight of not knowing whether or not im transgender. the immense self hatred that i feel every day is almost too much. i am also extremely bitter. i am beginning to resent those that love me the most. because of them i cant die. i have to stay around and suffer for them just so they don't have to deal with the knowledge of my death. I don't even see them every day. i live hundreds of miles away from them, all by myself and i have to stay alive because why? because theyll be sad? are you fucking kidding me? i am told to be selfish for once but im not even allowed to die. every existence of myself is a burden. if i continue to live and go to college i use my mother’s money. if i die, those who love me are sad and they have to deal with that emotional toll, in addition to the monetary toll that comes with death. if i continue to live but drop out, i continue to use up my mother’s money because i cant get a job due to my crippling social anxiety due to my autism. every existence of myself is a burden. yet somehow one of the things that hurts the most is knowing that my body would sit for weeks in my apartment, alone. i don't know why that hurts most. my body has done nothing to deserve this. so i guess without the soul, the concept of the innocence of the body just laying there, helpless and alone is truly heartbreaking. even now i am procrastinating homework that was due a week ago. i cant even miss class 3 times without an automatic failure. ive never made a decision for myself, my entire life. i don't know who i am. i want to go on t because the amount of pain im in every single day is absolutely pathetic but one of the only things ive ever been truly praised for is my singing voice. it’s one of the only things im actually proud of myself for. its the only part of my identity that i have but i hate it simultaneously. to start t is salvation but is also to completely destroy the only part of myself that i have. strangely enough, i often ask myself that, if i had 3 months left, would i start? the answer is always yes. why cant i start now? the only other thing i am ever praised for is my artistic skill, but even that is nothing compared to my peers. so why would i give up the only thing i am truly confident that i am the best at? plus i have to deal with the fact that i would be losing so much family. i always see other people with unaccepting family and i could never imagine myself in their shoes because i always figured that i had a pretty accepting family. but sometimes it sinks in. i would lose my step siblings. my step brothers are especially extremely transphobic. the thought that my sweet little brother would look at me with disgust, like im some monster. the thought that he would just call me a tranny to his friends after hearing his dad call me that behind my back. all of my friends from my hometown who don't even text me anymore. im convinced that they only ever even liked me because they wanted to fuck me. they were only ever friends with me because of my looks. and i dont even want/like my looks. my grandparents. im reminded every time i get a “happy birthday to the best granddaughter ever!” card. sometimes it almost feels intentional. every single day is soul crushing but i have always suppressed crying since i was little because it’s always so exhausting and time consuming. i don't have time to feel sad, i have homework. i also never confide in others. i always journal. always always always. i figure that’s probably why im making this post. journal adjacent. i already know im a massive burden so i don't bother telling others that im borderline suicidal. most of my days are okay, or “alright” but my bad days. theyre really bad. it’s just a cacophony of voices that i cannot shut off. they constantly repeat how truly worthless i am. because i am. i am worthless. they tell me how much of a burden i am. i am pathetic.

i have never allowed myself to be happy. i am constantly aware of the bad times around the corner. i never allow myself to get comfortable. every time i do, it is proven how truly forgettable i am. no one has ever listened to me. there are home videos from when i was younger, trying to get my parents attention. vlogs with friends where everyone talks over me or doesnt hear me. no one ever noticing when im there or when im absent. even having people tell me that they would celebrate my death. even in a joking way, i still feel it. people always like to pretend that im super important, that everyone knows me and loves me. that im super popular. but no one ever remembers that im here. the me that is super popular is her, and i am not her. my whole life when people asked my greatest fear, i would always say that it was being forgotten. every day i believe that it has come true. i have one singular friend and i cant even bring myself to be myself anymore around her. everything hurts. im just so exhausted. i just want time to stop. i just want to be happy. whenever someone asks where i want to be in 10 years or asks what my goal is in life, i always just say that i want to be happy. it is so simple but i havent felt it in so long. i can feel my parents progressively getting more worried. each one of their texts more careful worded than the last. maybe out of the fear that it may be the last thing they text me. each call becoming more heartfelt, asking how to help. fear that it may be the last thing they say to me. i want to die but i cant. instead i shall rot from the inside out. i will be hollow. i will be hollow but i will be alive.

if i don't make a friend by the end of the year I'll probably drop out. let’s see if i make it to christmas. i don't even know what i want.

[seercayder]

No but I feel as though artists are probably experiencing one of the most hostile years of posting art online that they’ve ever experienced for maybe forever. And I mean this for both amateur artists and professionals (with maybe a lil bit of bias since I also do The Art).

Tumblr’s nudity ban has crippled any piece that is either NSFW or uses nudity as artistic expression and it ultimately drove away both the artists themselves and a lot of their fans, which destroyed any remaining traction for the artists who managed to remain. Tumblr is no longer an artistic freedom-friendly site and it shows, which is a fucking shame bc they genuinely have one of the better tagging systems than other sites and I believe that most feedback on art there has been positive and friendly, which has now gone the way of the dinosaur much like Deviantart.

Twitter has problems with image compression but their biggest issue is toxic abuse, which I find to be the most damaging to artists out of all the other problems i’m listing here. Both the lure of anonymity and the mindset that ‘Speak Loud In Little Words To Make Point Means You Are Important And Right’ has fuelled the absolutely vile comments I have seen directed at artists on the site. Although it’s mainly aimed at fanartists and ship artists, I have noticed unwanted (even rude) criticism on immaculate, well-done art pieces, which is extremely belittling and insulting because the artist (although they may be open to criticism) if they haven’t asked for criticism then that means that they are not in the right mindset to receive any, and therefore it is not your place to throw disparaging comments at them.

But the biggest issue with abuse on Twitter is obviously aimed at fan-artists, especially those those that draw NSFW or “problematic” content. I could go into a whole spiel about how a drawing of a fictional character doesn’t affect reality but in short: If you find disturbing art of a non-existent character (or hey, even non-disturbing art, it’s just something you don’t like) then ignore it. Don’t go and fucking bully the artist you psychopath. If it is truly illegal then report the piece and then see if it gets taken down. Because 90% of the time it won’t be taken down because it doesn’t go against guidelines and you’re just trying to police the site like you’re the thought-police, monitoring other peoples art as if you have the god-given right to. And if you’re a minor stay the fuck out of 18+ accounts. Don’t comment, don’t follow, don’t even look. I am absolutely amazed by the mindset that some children have to waltz into a space not made for them and having the balls to insult the 18+ artist, who have specifically said “no minors”, for posting icky content. It gets even worse when you see how they abuse the Privatter or Curiouscat links the Twitter artists provide, made for anonymous feedback or for being the final barrier for an adult piece that says “hey this stuff is NSFW, don’t click if you are underage, last warning”. I’m gonna go into this more when I cover TikTok in the next few paragraphs. But ultimately, the artists on that site are having to be constantly vigilant against abuse, and it’s not unusual for them having to spend hours going through their 1K+ followers and having to block every underage follower who just didn’t fucking listen to their warnings. Imagine how exhausting and irritating and down-right uncomfortable that must be; having to monitor every fan that sees your work out of fear that they’re a minor seeing adult content or that they could throw abusive comments at you. Horrible.

Instagram is saturated with bots attempting to steal your work or advertise it on their own page and feedback isn’t really a ‘thing’ on there. Also, their algorithm (which may have also been implemented on Twitter, I believe that the Twitter algorithm now avoids promoting popular artist terms, but I can’t be certain bc the Twitter post that pointed this out is long-lost in the depths of my timeline, bc again, no tagging system) is based more around sharing than likes, which can be a huge barrier to artists. Sure, you may like someones art and even leave a nice comment on it, but do you really want to share every piece you come across, especially if it’s not something you would show dear Aunty Susan who follows you? It’s infuriating that a whole site dedicated for images is so difficult to use for artists, and with Instagram implementing features that are similar to Snapchats ‘stories’ it’s clear they’ve moving in a different direction, focusing on momentary attention-grabbing photos. This is simply because Instagram is advertising itself as more of a promotional influencer site nowadays, and anything that could sully their reputation has to be thrown into the algorithm trash. NSFW art or just plain ‘bad’ art? Trash. If you’re not gonna make money for them then why should they bother? You wanna promote your art? Pay for it because the algorithm will absolutely be working against you.

Now, the biggest fucking offender for worst art-sharing site of the year is TikTok (no surprise there), which is absolutely rampant with reposts and uncredited artwork and a gateway for abusive comments against artists. Like the Ouroboros snake, it goes through the same pattern every time; People (usually minors) find art on Twitter or Pinterest and repost it, usually without credit or going against the artist’s wishes about reposting. Then it either goes two-ways: Firstly, if the piece is SFW it will get about five-seconds of interest, a like for the reposter and people will then just move on. TikTok is built entirely around short bursts of satisfaction, feeding a a constant loop of serotonin for a few seconds before you move on. So ultimately, people rarely then hunt down the original artist, especially if their credit isn’t readily available, and usually the original artists doesn’t see any rise in likes, followers or popularity and are usually unaware that their art is even getting any attention on TikTok.

Or, if the art is NSFW, it can go down the second way. It is reposted and, as the majority of TikTok users are under-18, many users find the image uncomfortable, especially if it is a bit more ‘out-there’ or of a ship they don’t like. The reposters sometimes find the image off of Privatter, which is even worse since the piece has been posted to Privatter not just as a final barrier against minors, but also as a form of directing the piece to a specific and niche audience due to it’s... spicer than usual NSFW content. I’m talking really specific pieces with really specific kinks. Now that piece is floating around TikTok, widely seen by the general fans of a fandom, who again, are usually underage. The viewers grow uncomfortable, as the piece is not made for them, especially since sometimes the reposter only posted the piece for shock-value, and would even encourage insulting comments by only posting the credits for the purpose of getting fans to throw abuse at the artist (”The artist is ***** but they ship **** and are icky”) and so the viewers finally decide to make the effort to hunt down the original artist, only to throw insulting and bullying comments at them, made worse by the fact that they are children who don’t have the sense to hold back and have been fuelling their mindset in the echo-chamber that is TikTok.

And as a result of a lot of this hostile feedback for artists, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find a space for amateur artists who are just starting out, since the art community is becoming a little bit scary. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that new (or not even new but recently promoted) sites such as Artstation are becoming a better place for professional artists only, but it is very intimidating for learner artists. That’s not necessarily a bad thing - I believe that part of the reason for Deviantarts decline was that the tagging system was horrible, so good art was being drowned out by amateur, fetish content, so more advanced artists were distancing themselves from the site, especially if they were trying to build a portfolio for employment. I also find that fanart usually gets far more likes than more original art pieces, even if the original piece is amazingly good, which isn’t a criticism against fanart but posting your original piece on a site more aimed at professional pieces may help you reach your target audience better and improve likes and interaction. However, that does mean that if you are an amateur, or hell, just an average artists who is still learning, your best bet for exposure is posting your piece across multiple sites and very, very regularly, braving any abusive comments if you try anything slightly “spicy”. Which, obviously, become a very potentially toxic atmosphere and it’s not uncommon for artists to feel burn-out or depressed at their lack of attention or the cyber-bullying they may receive.

I’m not trying to say that posting artwork has always been easy, but there is definitely a more aggressive culture surrounding it and I think artists have to be aware that chances are they will face insulting comments, reposters, frustrating algorithms, cyber-bullying, a lack of interaction and burn-out as they try and appeal to websites that would do the bare minimum for you in terms of promotion.

This isn’t meant to be a post to scare away artists, I just wanted to point out that there is a big fucking problem and it feels as though it’s getting worse. Nowadays, websites have become a bit too comfortable targeting creators rather than fans when it comes to monitoring content and artists have been put under more and more pressure as they face more and more abuse that is rarely addressed, especially by the sites themselves that host the content. Things that are a huge punch in the face for artists, such as NFT’s, are becoming more normalised and it’s honestly just sad.

[treeni]

Say My Name

Day 1 of Soulmate September

DRLAMP

Summary: When people turn 16, the name of their soulmate appears on their palms in black. When a person meets their soulmate and introduces themselves, the mark changes to a color reflecting that person. However, when Janus turned 16 all that appeared was a big black smudge.

Words:  5229

TW: swearing, mentions of traumatic childhood event, fire

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Taglist: @tsshipmonth2020

It was rude to ask, but that hardly ever stopped people from inquiring why Janus didn’t know the name of his soulmate. Everyone knew the name of their soulmates. When you reached the age of 16, it would literally appear across your palm. Janus remembered that year, all of his class mates, one by one coming in with names written across their palms, some in fancy script, some in large bubbly fonts, some in absolute chicken scratch. He remembered one person’s walked in with gloves on because it turned out the name was written in comic sans of all things. Yet, when he walked in with countless people waiting in anticipation for his big birthday reveal, all Janus had to show them was a large, seemingly meaningless black blob on his hand.

It seemed like no one around him had ever seen anything like it before. The doctors had said it might somehow be linked to his scars, the fire that he barely survived as a kid if not for his father’s near-suicidal rescue mission. They both made it out alive, but Janus was barely holding on. Weeks of hospitalization, monitoring, skin-grafts, and a lot of grief, left a child with scar tissue on the whole left side of his body. He wasn’t teased as much as you’d expect. When he finally returned to school a big, school-wide assembly was held about happened that left him being treated like some hero for some reason. Janus didn’t like the attention at the time, but it had its advantages in the long run. When he didn’t want to participate in gym, he could blame sensitivity and the other students were quick to defend him on it even against the teachers. When his work was late because he took a self-care day, he was never docked the extra time.

However, there were disadvantages too. The sensitivity was something he did deal with, especially against the cold or direct sunlight, the scar tissue didn’t handle the exposure well. It seemed that never knowing the identity of his soulmates, if he even had one, was one of them. Just another way he was different than everyone else.

Then again, the black spot might have been the universe sending another a big karmic “fuck you” his way for all of the times he used his scars to play innocent and garner sympathy. After all, it couldn’t have been Janus who pushed the bully jock down the stairs, not Janus. He was practically crippled after all!

That was how people treated him at least, even his parents. Especially his parents. It was a frustratingly fruitless endeavor to try and prove he wasn’t absolutely useless. So he let people think what they were going to think. If everyone wanted to believe he was a fragile snowflake that would fall apart at the slightest touch? Well, it just made easier to get away with things because general perception became his permanent alibi.

Still, when college rolled around, he took the first ticket out to the farthest, decent university that would take him and a distance he went. Between his high grades and essays he didn’t receive one rejection letter. Universities really ate up sob stories of grievances that had to be overcome and he certainly had a grievance. Still, he liked to think at least part of it was his own merit, even if it felt like a lie.

Though there were a lot of things he had already given up on in life by age 18, when he had first attended the university he had let himself be a little bit excited about it. It was a new place with new people, people who didn’t see the kid who almost burned in a house fire, the kid who would never find a soulmate. He had a chance to start over and be more than his circumstances.

Except, he quickly realized it was more of the same. He tried layering fabrics, covering up as much of his scars as possible so people wouldn’t notice as much. He already kept them mostly covered anyway to protect against sensitivity, so it wasn’t a huge change. He started wearing gloves, one to hide the scars and the other to hide the mockery of a soul mark. It seemed no matter what he tried though, it made no difference. He couldn’t hide the scars on his face.

So there he was, nearly finished his freshman year of college, sitting in the library by himself because he refused to repeat his past experiences. If people didn’t want to treat him like an actual person, then he resolved that he didn’t need them. He had settled on the path of becoming a lawyer and honestly it wasn’t like he needed anyone slowing him down anyway. Truly. Friends would just hold him back by taking up valuable studying time anyway.

Janus took a sip of bitter coffee to refocus himself as he stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him. He knew that his course load would most definitely keep him too busy for friends in the future, but the now was a bit of a struggle. He had actually... run out of assignments to complete and was nearly a month ahead. The professors had laid everything out in the syllabus so it was easy to just work his way through. Sure, when the library started to crowd with procrastinating students scrambling to make the grade, he’d be able to just relax because he’d all but finished his work for the semester. Still, it felt a little hollow. Nearly a month of... basically nothing to do, no one to see, just mindlessly attending classes to be assigned work he’d already completed.

It wasn’t the first time it happened either, Janus had been miserable toward the end of the previous semester as well after finishing early then too. The last few weeks were basically miserable stagnation that continued through the holidays because he refused to go home over the break. He only started to feel like himself again when the new term started and he had a whole new set of work to complete.

With a huff, he angrily clicked the e-learning program closed and was left unsatisfied by finality of it. He needed something, like an old school corded phone or maybe he’d just go key some poor sods car. The university’s president had a dedicated spot and he’d heard she was a real piece of work. He’d never met her himself, but he’d heard some stories that she was a real Jekyll and Hyde, except the Hyde was her default. Somehow her transition only seemed to magically take place when a camera was pointed in her direction. Speaking of cameras, if he redirected the security camera he could probably get away with it too. At least it’d be something to do. Plotting through how best to get away with it, he took a long sip of coffee. It was hot and burned his tongue, but taste-wise it as bitter as his current mood and felt appropriate somehow.

While contemplating if he should raid the library’s staff lounge for sugar (it’s not like they’d do anything about it anyway) a loud noise sounded from his left, immediately grabbing his attention. He realized the almost ‘harump’ like sound was a book hitting the floor. He didn’t think too much of it as he involuntarily looked in the direction of the sound’s source. Occasionally falling books were an inevitability in a place that housed so many. The person closest to the fallen book though caught his attention for more than just a passing glance.

He was tall, lean and muscular and Janus found himself immediately trying to swallow down the gay. It didn’t help that the guy wore low hanging cargo pants with ripped muscle shirt that showed off his midriff. His face was tucked in another book, but Janus could see an odd tuft of silver hair sticking out against a full head of soft dark curls. As he inspected further, he noticed the guy was covered in red splatters of some sort that he sincerely hoped was the ink of a red pen. He had a large smudge of whatever it was up his left bicep. He continued to flip through pages, seemingly at random before haplessly tossing the book onto the floor next to the first and pulling another off the shelf and doing the same.

Oh.

This guy was a bastard.

Well, at least that meant Janus’ guilt over staring immediately evaporated.

In fact, Janus just let himself lean back in his chair, coffee in hand and legs crossed as he openly watched the antics taking place in front of him. Other library patrons started to look toward the bastard as well as the sound of random books hitting the floor continued. Though, while Janus stared in amusement, the others mainly threw looks of annoyance. Not everyone had the leniency of being weeks ahead in their coursework he supposed. As the pile seemed to grow almost endlessly the sound seemed to pause as the bastard took longer with the current book in his hands, sifting through it slower than the others until he shut it with a reverberating ‘bang’ no quieter than any of the books falling to the ground and stuffed it into a backpack that was leaned against the shelves. Now without a blockade in front of the bastards face, Janus could see that he was unfortunately handsome. Even from his position a few feet away Janus could see the high cheekbones of an almost sculpted face. It was only ruined slightly by a nearly cartoonish mustache sitting atop a perfect cupids bow. It was almost as if a generic Greek artist carved the guy from straight marble and some teenager vandalized the statue with ratty clothes, an exploding pen, and god-awful facial hair. The lips he was focusing on stretched in a wide grin as Janus looked up to see the bastard wiggling his eyebrows at him. He scoffed in reply and pretended to gag, like he was uninterested.

You know, like a liar.

The bastard still had the audacity to stare his way with a big, wolfish grin and winked as he walked away... and straight into the banister separating the open concept from the lower floor. Tall, dark, and handsome fell across it, bending at the hips like a rag doll. He let out a yelp as the wind was knocked out of him from the railing pushing hard into his stomach and then he started to slide. Janus was running to his aid before he had even realized he had gotten up, his coffee a forgotten puddle on the floor as his cup was still rolling from the impact. The guy had managed to grab hold of the banister with one hand on his way down, but he was left dangling and it wasn’t clear how long he could hold himself there. Janus reached down and secured his grip by wrapping his forearms around the one gripping the banister. There was no way Janus would be able to pull him up on his own, but he could probably hold the position.

“Can you swing?” Janus asked, putting all of his focus and energy in his grip. Don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let him slip, don’t let go.

Without answering, the guy did a small test swing that had Janus clenching his teeth and tightening his grip to make sure as hell this guy didn’t fall.

“Oh three then, one, two-” Janus counted and reached further down to lock their elbows straight to make sure this worked. “Three!”

With a strong swing of the hips the dangling stranger arched upward, with Janus using leverage principles from his position above to add the extra oomph needed for the guy to lock his foot underneath the rail and grab hold of the bars with his other hand. Janus let himself be used as a handhold as the stranger crawled over the banister and back onto solid ground. He was reminded of just how unfortunately attractive the guy was a strong hands gripped his shoulders and bright emerald eyes stared down at his own mismatched pair.

“My hero!” The guy yelled and then suddenly foreign lips were pressed against Janus’ own.

The kiss was over as soon as it began, but that didn’t stop Janus from noticing the tongue that had traced over his lips before he pulled away.

“Oh! Sorry! Pattoncake’s always reminding me to work on my boundaries. I’m supposta try askin’ before I start mackin’ ya know?”

Janus knew... some of those words. To be fair, he wasn’t even sure he was processing the ones he did know, still a little dazed between the guy in front of him nearly falling off the indoor balcony and then the sudden kiss. His first kiss.

“I’ve always wanted to do that though and it was just nice to be saved for once by someone who wasn’t Roman. No one wants to kiss that ugly mug anyway,” the stranger said before holding out a hand to him. “I’m Remus by the way!”

Janus was about to take his hand and shake it, the way normal people do. He really was. It’s just suddenly he felt something tingling against the skin of his right hand. It felt... intense, but didn’t hurt, like friction without the burn. Automatically glancing at his hand, he could see something glowing through the fabric of his glove. He immediately ripped it off without a second thought and stared down at the bright light carving out a name on his hand in big, electric green letters.

Remus.

Remus apparently found it appropriate to disregard the boundaries advice and stepped into Janus’ personal space, taking the green glowing hand in both of his own, staring down hard at the name that had appeared for a moment. Without warning Remus dropped the hand to move both of his own to Janus’ shoulders, squeezing.

“What’s your name?!” Remus demanded, his hands trembling as if he was holding back a deep will to shake the boy in his grip.

Janus didn’t answer immediately, he just stared back at the emerald eyes in shock while it felt like his stomach was trying to crawl out of his own throat. Taking a couple hurried breaths through his nose as he tried to push back the sheer panic that had overtaken him in this big what the fuck of a situation, he managed to whisper out in more breath than noise, “Janus.”

They both watched in equal astoundment as Remus’ own hand began to glow as a name that was previously scrawled out in inky black redesigned itself into a bright golden yellow. Janus could see that unlike his own hand that now had green letters against a large blob of black, Remus’ was a rainbow of letters in different colors overlapping each other.

Suddenly Remus’ strong hands had scooped him up into a twirl as he yelled, “It’s you!”

Some poor bastard with a cart at the edge of Janus’ vision had the audacity shush them and Janus flipped them the bird. If it were any other situation, he would have taken note of exactly who they were and plotted how best to ruin their lives in the most intricate way possible, but he was a little preoccupied at the moment. The fact that they were in the midst of picking up the pile of books Remus left behind didn’t buy them any mercy points either.

“Oh they’re going to love you!”

With that, they were off with Remus’ backpack bouncing with each long stride. Janus wrapped his arms tightly around Remus’ neck, holding on for dear life as the man ran like a bullet out of the library, artfully sidestepping anyone in his way. He was clearly practiced at being a general menace. Why not add kidnapping to the list? Not that Janus really minded the feeling of Remus’ chest pressed against his own.

His soulmate’s chest, Janus had to remind himself as he looked back down at the green letters branded against his hand. He felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes.

He had a soulmate.

Janus choked back a sudden sob, and gave into the absurdity of the situation by letting his head rest against Remus shoulder as he was carted off to who-the-fuck-knows-where. He was half certain this was some surreal dream.

He was half terrified that he would wake up.

Before Janus had really caught up with what was happening or even where he was, he found himself being deposited in a lap of someone who looked just as confused as he felt. At least it was comfortable as arms covered in the fabric of a plush hoodie caught him as Remus dropped him while announcing “Lo, I got your book!”

“What the fuck Rem?” voiced the person he was now being held by.

Janus looked up to survey the area. He began internally panicking to find five very attractive boys suddenly looking in his direction. This had to be a dream. He’d wake up and there would be no harem and definitely no soulmate mark beyond the black blob he’s known since he got the damn thing. The check he was pressed against let out a huff and Janus had to lean backwards a bit to see a scowl aimed in Remus’ direction. Scowl or no, he was beautiful. Dark eye shadow and long bangs that couldn’t quite obscure the stunning amethyst eyes.

“I see you checked out more than just a textbook from the library Remus,” said the one apparently called Lo. Even from his strange position Janus could tell that Lo was sat with straight posture, but somehow seemed relaxed. He had sharp, angular features, a pointy nose, and a strong jawline. Thick, black framed glasses did nothing to obscure the picturesque looks of a truly symmetrical face. Lo looked unphased by Janus’ sudden presance, especially compared to the others as he accepted the textbook Remus offered him without so much as a frown.

“Cute right?” He asked, tossing his arms around another boy in the group who was staring at Remus with a frown. He was in a cyan polo with extra floofy hair and a splattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones. “He saved me from falling off the banister Patty!”

“Again Remus?” Groaned the last boy of the group and glancing in his direction left Janus wondering if he’d even be able to speak if he wanted to. He looked like Remus. He was a little less lanky, a little more top heavy with more defined arms and shoulders especially. There was no cartoonish mustache on this one.

Janus’ mouth had gone dry. There was too much attractive surrounding him.

He couldn’t swallow down the gay anymore.

The unnamed one who looked like Remus and apparently had the same lack of personal space suddenly took his hand and pulled him into a standing position before dropping to his knee and bowing deeply like a god damn fairy tale prince, without letting go of Janus’ gloveless hand.

“You have my deepest gratitude for saving my brother. I, Roman Royal, am in your debt.”

Janus was going to tell him to get the fuck off the groud and stop being so god damn cliche and charming and adorable because guys like that didn’t exist in the real world, but then both he and prince charming were left awestruck as they watched Janus’ hand start to glow again. Because of course it did.

“Whoops! Did I forget to mention my last soulmate mark changed?” Remus asked before cackling as he sprawled his legs across the lap that Janus had vacated.

“Wait, he’s-!” The hooded one exclaimed underneath Remus’ legs.

“Yep!” Remus said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ sound.

Janus didn’t even realize he was crying until the goddamn prince charming, his soulmate Roman reached out and gently wiped the tears away with a softness that matched every fucking YA novel love interest ever.

His chin was titled up to stare into ruby eyes, only to find that Roman was crying too and how dare he still be so beautiful crying?! Who sanctioned this?

“-please, my dear, please, please, please tell me your name,” Roman whispered, cradling his cheeks on both sides as he wiped away Janus’ tears with his thumbs. Janus wasn’t sure how Roman could stand touching the scars on his face, but Roman didn’t seem phased at all. He didn’t hesitate in the slightest or treat the scarred skin any differently than the unmarred side.

“I’m... I’m Janus.”

Janus wasn’t sure where to look as four lights suddenly appeared, surrounding him from all directions. As the lights faded he found himself swept up for a second time, but now in Roman’s arms as he too twirled Janus in the opposite direction of his brother.

“It’s finally you!” He cried and kissed Janus on the top of the head before setting him down.

Janus swayed on his feet, dizzy from spinning and just very overwhelmed. This was a lot. This day was a lot.

“I’m so sorry!” Roman exclaimed, taking Janus’ hand in between both of his own and looking down at Janus with eyes full of remorse. “I should have asked before kissing you! Or even grabbing you at all, I was just so happy-”

“I-it’s okay... I’m just... this is just a lot,” Janus admitted, trying to push down his strong sense of panic. He had never had this much one on one social interaction... ever. Much less with his soulmates!

“Hey,” said the smooth voice of the one in the hood as he reached across Remus’ legs to grab ahold of Janus’ sleeve. “Breathe okay? In for four.”

Janus turned his attention to the soothing quiet voice, focusing on it and only it as it slowly grounded him. Lo pulled Remus’ legs away, as the hooded boy scooted forward in his seat, taking each of Janus’ hands in his own and rubbing soothing circles into both the bare skin of his right hand and the fabric of his still-gloved left hand.

“Hold it for seven,” he said, keeping strong and intent eye-contact. Janus wasn’t sure he could look away if he wanted to. He felt entranced. “Breathe out for eight. You’re doing great.”

“If it helps you feel any better Ro, I already macked on him without asking first too so-” Remus said with a big grin, like the cat that got the cream.

“That’s not something you should be proud of Rem!” Roman said and swatted his brother on the shoulder.

“Remus, what have we said about personal space?” The floofy that was called Patty said.

“Uggggh,” Remus groaned dramatically and let himself fall backwards. as if the two laps he occupied were a fainting couch. “Roman did it tooooo!”

“I didn’t try to make out with him without permission! Plus, I apologized!”

“So did I!”

Their conversation continued on from there. It was always so strange to be talked about, as if you weren’t there. Still, a deep gentle voice was guiding him away from their squabble, refocusing him on the moment, on hands within his own and the sound of exaggerated breathing that was demonstrated for him to match.

It took a few minutes, but he started to feel as if he was regaining his bearings. Janus looked down at their joined hands and saw colors peaking out at the edges of the palm holding his. More importantly, he saw yellow, the same yellow he saw appear on Remus’ hand with his own eyes.

He had to know.

He wanted to know.

“What’s your name?” Janus asked, tugging gently at the hand that had his name inscribed against it.

“We don’t have to do this now, we can do it later. It’s okay to wait, I promise.”

Janus was almost convinced, almost let it go, but he couldn’t. He had gone years believing he’d spend his life alone and now his own name apparently was written across the palms of five people.

Five soulmates.

He wanted to know.

“Please- I just... never expected this. I thought... I thought-”

“That you’d be alone,” the purple eyed stranger muttered sympathetically and in that moment he knew. They must have been like him, waking up one birthday expecting a name only to find an illegible smudge of ink instead. “I’m Virgil.”

His palm shined as bright purple letters defined themselves against against the black and it was finally enough to be able to decipher the remaining two names still in black.

He could read Patton and Logan.

“It’s so nice to meet you Virgil,” Janus said, squeezing the hand still holding his. “Before today I didn’t believe you were real.”

He heard various laughs around him as Virgil snorted. He even heard a “mood!” somewhere behind him.

Janus glanced back down at his own palm again. He was determined to never see black on it ever again. He squeezed Virgil’s hand once before relinquishing it and squared his shoulders, walking over to the last two he had yet to officially met. Roman scooped his brother out of their collective grasps and deposited him against the currently unoccupied metal bench to the side of the C shape the three formed.

“Hey!” Remus yelled as he was dropped.

“Stay still for once you absolute delinquent,” Roman said, and sat on his brothers back pretzel-style, effectively pinning him in place.

One sat stark still, his hands folded in his lap, but bowed his head slightly with the barest smile touching the corners of his mouth as Janus approached. The other was shaking his leg, drumming his fingers and chewing on his lip with big nervous eyes and he looked toward Janus, like he couldn’t’ sit still if he wanted to. Janus fell to his knees, cautiously putting one hand on each of their legs and looking up at two curious gazes.

“Before today I thought I would spend the rest of my life alone, that there was no one out there for me. I didn’t have a name and now-” Janus said, cutting himself off as his voice cracked.

“And now you have five,” said the one in the dark blue tie.

Janus could only nod in return, trying to will away the need to cry again. He was never this emotional, today was just... an extra bitch on the feelings meter.

“I need to know.”

The one who had been shaking’s hands flow up and covered his mouth as he cooed out an appreciative noise. Janus waited, trying to give him time to gather his bearings.

“Can I hug you?” he squeaked out and Janus couldn’t hold back the smile as he nodded.

Immediately, hands were thrown around his neck as the life was squeezed out of him. After a few seconds though, it relaxed and he was led into a rocking motion that was reminiscent of a boat, swaying listlessly against a gentle river. After hesitating, Janus’ own arms found their way to a waist and then around a back as he pulled the humming boy closer to himself.

They stayed like that for several minutes and Janus wasn’t sure if it was for the his own sake or for the sake of the boy in his arms. Maybe both.

“I’m Patton,” he finally whispered and Janus didn’t even bother to look down at the glow. He preferred to stay with his eyes closed, his ear leaning close enough to the pulse point of Patton’s neck to hear the beat of his heart. Still, as nimble fingers eventually tapped his shoulder, he looked up to find he still had one more person left to meet.

Before pulling away, Janus made sure to take a good look at the cyan that had found itself on his hand. Patton squeezed him tightly one last time before finally letting go of his grasp. Maybe it was revenge for the impromptu kisses he’s already received or maybe like the others he’d simply been lost in the moment but before pulling away completely, Janus leaned down and ghosted a kiss against Patton’s neck, causing the cute sky-eyed boy beneath him to shiver. It only made him more endearing.

Then he turned for he had one last person to meet. Standing up Janus found he was tall and sturdy looking. He wasn’t as broad shouldered as Roman, but he still looked strong and proportionally so. It was like every part of him was carefully curated.

This time, Janus knew his name.

Logan.

The only name left on his palm in perfect typed Arial.

“It is ironic that after struggling to read the names at all, the last of my soulmate’s names becomes more difficult to read upon its reveal,” Logan said, holding up his palm, yet it still took him a moment to understand.

Oh!

Oh.

His name would have been in black before and the yellow would most definitely be more difficult to read.

“Do not misunderstand. I am not displeased in the slightest, I just find it a bit humors. The black was always a glaring and ugly reminder of what I did not have.”

“Tell me about it,” Janus muttered in return.

Logan’s smile grew slightly as he reached down to take Janus’ hand within his own and gently held it up as he traced over the letters he recognized as his own still in black.

“Would you tell me your name?” Logan asked in a murmur before leaning down and leaving a kiss on Janus’ palm unapologetically.

Janus’s cheeks flushed at the care, but blinked as his mind went blank in confusion.

“But... you already...”

“You gave your name to Roman,” Logan whispered and tilted his head gently. “I want you to give it to me intentionally.”

Janus gulped, staring up at the sapphire eyes that were so intently focused on his own. “Janus. My name is Janus.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you Janus,” Logan said and bowed just slightly at the shoulders. “My name is Logan.”

The light shined between them as Logan still held Janus’ palm up and Janus watched the various streaks of blue in Logan’s eyes dance like light reflected through crystalline. With the deep blue lettering now situated on his hand, every trace of that ulgy black smudge was finally gone from his hands.

He had soulmates.

He wouldn’t be alone.

“Damn, Lolo’s got more game then you Ro,” Remus snarked despite being squished underneath Roman.

“Shut up Rem!” Roman declared with an indignant huff.

“No, he’s got a point Ro,” Virgil said, chin in palm and a blush across his cheeks as he watched Logan seduce the newest member of their unit.

“Awww, I think you’re Romantic Ro!” Patton declared reaching for Roman’s hand from his current place next to Virgil.

“Patton and Janus are currently my favorites and to hell with the rest of you,” Roman declared, as Remus cackled underneath him. Virgil stuck out his tongue and Logan just shot Roman a smug smirk.

Yeah.

Janus thought he was going to like it here but....

He would have the rest of his life to make absolutely sure.

[greaterlandscapes]

My Dean Blunt Rotation aka High Fidelity Left A Bad Taste in My Mouth

For the past 2 to 3 months, my listening habits were teetering to an end; mostly via burnout by spontaneously listening to local artists daily and less likely of a musical discovery drought, whereas my interests of a certain artist or genre hasn't found its, sort of, "eureka", moment per se. I've been feeling less enthusiastic over the things i listen to since my friends have gradually lost their flare when it comes to discovering/exploring untapped parts of the music realm. Thus, in return, my enthusiasm not being reciprocated. It leaves an empty feeling from someone who has been yearning social interaction, may it be media being latched on the topic - it's a feeling that's been guilt-tripping me ever since I was stranded in the other end of the metro. I feel closed off, exposed to the crippling loneliness the lockdown has punished us: a defacto solitary confinement in a national level. Our act of staying online is also an act of staying alive outside.

To be fair though, it's a valid move to not boomerang compliments/gripes over an art you haven't consumed due to someone's autonomy. Your able body being to consume the art you wish to finish with free time is a luxury in of itself. The art is then failed to serve its purpose to reach its goal: You have squiggly lines heading straight to oblivion rather than swirling in the earlobes of a wandering cyber nomad. We, eventually, need to find something that could help us exit, rather than escape, from capital. We, in return, do not shut ourselves from the outside. Instead, we then tend to avoid the stress of protocols and outdoor fascism; Not avoid the indoor liberalism that is eating us alive and online. It's a capital punishment we never knew we signed up for ever since the onslaught of the virus and the state. Art for art's sake is nonexistent now, always has been, it seizes to ever since we went inside. Feeding off of a holographic meatloaf coming from a glowing screen. We have a real-life Karen acting as a nightlight in our rooms.

The COVID lockdown made us listen to music — both for better, for worse. For one, it made us pass most days. You could say the same for any sort of media: film, mixed media art, or whatever pre-Covid activity that sprung up during our time in isolation. For music, however, there was an uptick of new listeners that made others Wheel-of-Fortune the fuck out of their music discoveries in sites like RateYourMusic, Bandcamp, or even Sophie's Floorboard. We've continued to expand and became more open change of opinions and be less of a jackass towards someone else's opinions. On second thought, our opinions have been catalogued, leaving more notes than actual footprints of our previous listens. Our new discoveries made new bands and re-emerging bands, bands who faded to obscurity, crawl back in the surface with newfound interest from younger listeners (ie Panchiko, Jai Paul, and Dean Blunt) and this glowing, previously unseen and unexpected overwhelming support from fans of departed artists (ie SOPHIE, MF DOOM)

For the other, we've hogged gratuitous amounts of media, resulting into losing our primary direction as to how we want to consume our media based on the preconceived notions of what we want in our art. There is goodness in becoming directionless when you think about it, but there comes a cost to our identity as music listeners. Instead, we end up widening our tangents, falling in endless rabbit holes, having zero chances to emerge from the surface. In fact, i refuse to call it a "rabbit hole" instead i'd rather call it a "pipeline" of sorts — transitioning casual music fans into a full on, different, unique versions of themselves that would define them when laws and protocols have eased in the outside world. Our act of staying online has either made most of us break our character or enliven our past selves. The music pipeline is now more apparent, stretching the norms of what was once alienated by a silent majority, but now accepted as an acceptable form of expression. The more music we are exposed to has made casual listeners stranged out or react in ways that our personality have betrayed us or deemed not as acceptable to them. Still, not changing anything that was prominent pre-pandemic. Liberal cop behavior is stronger, now more dangerous than it ever was once perceived by the outside world.

HIGH FIDELITY? NO, THANK YOU.

Imagine a situation inside of a record, pre-pandemic of course, where you do not feel like lifting a record out from the shelf, instead, you window shop just for the sake of windowshopping. Capital and media made us think that going to record shops is a semi-productive activity. The age of discovery has died ever since High Fidelity romanticized and normalized the incelage of horny record diggers. Does this movie age well, yeah sure it does, for old 90s nerds at least. But did it translate well over in the past 20 or more years of events and tragedies that unfolded in pre-9/11 America? No it didn't. It was an age of free expression, only liberals would dream of whenever they take a sip of Guinness beer in their favorite dive bar.

Mind you, over a couple of months ago, it was my only chance in seeing why this movie was the talk of the town back when it was released. There's music, yeah, and attractive leading leadies, yeah, it has everything a 90s kid would love to salivate and drop their gonads over while they watch this movie. I obviously did not live to see the movie on opening day but i could imagine the scent that came out of that movie theater with attendees donning windbreakers and The Who shirts with popcorn dressing stains on their plastic cups. If there was a Filipino counterpart to this movie, i'd bet corporate champions Eraserheads and Rivermaya would soundtrack their music over and have either Tado or have Boy 2 Quizon, but i sense it to age like milk more than it could age like fine wine due to the senseless jokes one can execute in a Cubao or Cartimar record store.

John Cusack is obviously the incel in question here: a damaged, vengeful ex who constantly fails to live his partner's expectations and weaponizes his personality over the situations that has nothing to do with his interests. I spent the entire time being absolutely disgusted over the spineless responses of John Cusack's leading character. The movie then treads on flashbacks with John Cusack's failed relationships and what he could do to move on from each and one of them. If i could stand a SONA for 3 hours then I can't stand John Cusack being the dull entry point to incel, making more reasons why you should hate record store clerks who don't give an iota of shits to someone's inviting rapport. High Fidelity is opium for massive music circle jerks who can't take a single breathe of fresh air or a single quota of touching grass. There's more targeting weak and inferior guys and hot women who dump dumb overconfident dudebros more than the actual "music recs" in the entire movie. The more I think about this movie, the more I realize how our personality is in line towards Dick, the record store being unmercifully dunked on by the movie's two leading characters. He's an angel in the world of cynical bastards, witnessing both demons pitchforking record store customers in the ass while they're purchasing the latest Sonic Youth album.

I believe that Jack Black, the dark horse of High Fidelity, has a pleasing personality more than an irritating demeanor due to this behavior in the record store. In fact, outside of the record store, Jack Black doesn't seem to take the business is your pleasure act pretty seriously. Unlike John Cusack's character he brought his obsession over involving a record in an important memory/point of his life. There is so much stuff that has happened outside of the record store, so much for Rolling Stone and NME being the bible of music at the time, endlessly christening and shilling artists that believe to become the second coming of the Beatles. The music references here however are treated as fluff than it is a mechanism that would drive the senseless plot forward. If anything, there are events pointed out in the event that doesn't have anything to do with the life of the characters.

If anything, this movie did a great job at capturing the feeling of music bros being dumped on the wayside by a mature set of characters and how their current conditions aren't perfumed by the studios' liking of having to Cinderella story the shit out of a bunch of normal record store owners. The reality is in the reaction of one's social capital being invaded and we're here to witness how those reactions panned out in 2021. This is a villainous depiction of music nerds being the salt of the earth, the bane of all media discussion, still reflective of the insufferable salt of cyberspace found in music forums like 4chan and RYM. High Fidelity is a pipeline of 90s musicology, a dreaded fever dream of an owner waiting for the decade to end, trends ossifying and re-emerged by the hands of nostalgia-savvy individuals. It was, at its time, every music-movie nerd's excuse equivalent of Scott Pilgrim VS. The World. There are memories worth remembering and cherishing, and this movie isn't one of them.

DEAN BLUNT, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

In the past two weeks I've been fancying myself into sitting down and listening to different projects from the ever elusive, UK-based sound artist Dean Blunt. The first time i chanced upon his music wasn't too long ago - albeit a recent one in the time of COVID - was when I randomly stumbled upon his records at a Spotify recommendations section under John Maus (yeah lol i know the implications whenever his name is mentioned) - but then i was enamored by his online presence so quickly I put everything down and dedicated an hour or two researching about this man's music.

Other than the fact that his album "The Redeemer" wasn't the best record to start off in journeying through his discography: ending up disgusted and borderline bored even and I was more likely to lambast this record's aimless, pretentious art-pop inflections. By the end of the day, it was a preference long solidified by his undying fanbase. According to his hardcore fans, the music isn't really music, evaluating it as a free form of sound art, rather than sticking to a structured and conventional cues; the genre is nullified by most analysts of the arts. The growing interest of the general public towards Dean Blunt's pranks and antics have long appealed to my tastes as a chaotic neutral individual. Pranks that are well executed to piss off UK gallery connoisseurs and entertain ironic attendees who'd shit on the art piece rather than participate in it.

More of the resources I've found about Dean Blunt online: numerous aliases and collaborations that lasted around almost 2 decades. The most notable of all them, at least for my money, are either Hype Williams, a duo consisting of Dean and frequent collaborator Inga Copeland, and Babyfather, an art performance parodizing the pirate radio culture in the UK. I have not delved enough in Blunt's body of work to evaluate everything and what i could synthesize from it. For now, I enjoyed it as a form of entertainment. Well, color me impressed because Dean Blunt isn't clowning around, he, in fact, makes blissful and transcendental music from left to right.

Dean Blunt was the only few artists that made me want to binge on their discography. His movements in his music has attracted this pesky listener who thinks that being mysterious is a plus. I mean, look at me who thinks The Paul Institute, Panchiko, and Burial are the greatest artists that have walked the face of the earth.

The most I've enjoyed from Dean Blunt's discography are his mixtapes and collaborations: preferably his Soul Fire and ZUSHI, both of which were packaged as B-sides or supplemental releases rather than major releases such as the Babyfather project or the Black Metal releases. His knack for blurring the lines between genres still fascinate me as of this writing, and it continues to amaze me how he doesn't seize to compromise his art, he's here to prove a point and it sells quite well despite the lack of direction in his music. Blunt's music has more aggressive and hazy texture than the hollow, wide, soulless structure of art-pop/hypnagogic pop released today. He creates terrains from the rubble of his country's current shortcomings. The music overlaps the actual intentions with abstract concepts, becoming deconstructed down the line. In Babyfather, noise music coincides with Blunt's amateurish rapping. In Black Metal, Blunt isolates himself along with the assisted skeletal guitar playing. Both projects throwing all tropes in a vaccum alongside Blunt, who he himself would sought to become a personification of a musical void.

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(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)

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Dean Blunt is an entity that wishes to become one person, but no, this isn't a figure in a specific art form; this isn't Banksy, this isn't Bob Ong, this is made by one person, clearly it is if you listen closely, and it's been entrancing me ever since his presence was felt on the horizons of the internet. Dean Blunt, what the actual fuck.