#he’s a celebrity your honor the magazines are spreading rumors | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kosmosguk · 4 years ago

Text

Bloody Artistry (M) ~🥀

pairing: celeb! kim taehyung x journalist! reader; minor pairings: jungkook x reader, coworker jimin x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 8K

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

[Warnings: MURDER, death, literally Taehyung being a sick bastard 25/8 (but only in fiction), company corruption, violence, yandere themes, mentions of noncon smut (intoxication, mentions of being drugged, fingering), blackmail, obsession, stalking. EVERYTHING that happens in this fic is FICTION; plz don’t go busting nuts for serial killers]

A/N: Thank you to yoongissugarmommy for requesting this! Part 1 of a short series starring Taehyung. Was going to do smth similar to Lineage with him, but this has been staying in my drafts for too long (like i wrote most of this before I even wrote Lineage, which is why my writing for part of this is a bit different from my current one), and I feel like going a bit modern now to take a break from Lineage (taking a bit to write pt. 4 just because it’s the end of the main story). Thank you for 2.9k followers! We’re only less than 50 away from 3K which is so wild to think about; kisses and hugs to everyone who’s supported my work!

“Today, in the studio, we have our nation’s golden boy, the first love of all of our viewers: Kim Taehyung. Everyone, please clap your hands for him!’’

The MC turned to grin at the audience as the audience cheered loudly; her glossy black hair swept down and framed her face delicately in perfect shiny strands. The lipstick that coated her unnaturally wide smile was a deep shade of red, stark against her pale white skin. Dressed in her primly pressed suit, she looked lovely, like a blooming rose, but as she turned to face the guest star, his presence seemed to easily outshine her own.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honor to have an interview here and have an opportunity to see all of my lovely fans,’’ Taehyung’s deep voice rang out as he smiled in his heart-swooning way, flashing pure-white teeth handsomely in a carefully maintained and practiced way that made all the fans, both in the studio and watching from beyond a screen, unable to resist letting out shrieks and screams.

“Now, Taehyung-ssi, with a record-breaking album that topped the charts as soon as it came out and a modelling gig that sells out magazines faster than before, how does it feel to have really made it? It must stress you out. Any tips on how to relax?’’

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile flashing coy for a brief second before settling into a rehearsed contemplative expression. He shrugged his shoulders, letting them drop out, as he made a soft hmm noise.

“How I relax? It’s not that big of a deal, really, but that’s an interesting question to ask, noona,’’ Taehyung widened his eyes slightly, looking ever so much like the golden boy persona he had stickered upon his reputation,’’ When I’m really, really stressed, I like to play with Tannie, my dog, and eats lots of yummy food that my mom sends to me when I get stressed. Also, my manager Namjoon is a good person to talk to when I’m really stressed; he always knows what to do and say.’’ Taehyung tapped the tip of his nose lightly, scrunching his face in an expression that made fans coo in adoration. “I also like to think of my fans and read all the letters they’ve sent me. I saved all of my letters from my beloved fans since my debut, and I like looking through them.’’

“Hey, Kim Namjoon, fucking hurry up,” Taehyung hissed into the cellphone pressed against his flawless cheek,” My shoes are going to get stained at this point. You know blood is a pain to properly get out of letter.’’

“Were you at least careful this time? We don’t want rumors getting out,” Namjoon’s voice crackled over the receiver, barely a hint of emotion in his voice. The beeping and honking of cars on his side of the phone call signaled the rush his manager was making towards his location.

Taehyung huffed in agitation, clicking his tongue sharply in annoyance as he skimmed his nails for any trace of dried blood. “Oh, come on, you think I really even care at this point? With the way the company takes care of everything, you’d think perfect ol’ me was…well perfect. But still, aren’t you guys way too good at this job? 7 girls and not even a peek from the public. Who else do you do this for, huh? Suga-sunbae? J-hope-sunbae?”

There was no reply. Taehyung threw his gaze over to the practically mangled body. Too bad, he thought to himself, she was really pretty this time. Red lipstick, silky black hair, wanted to become better acquainted with such a famous celebrity after her little interview, the whole fanatic spiel tied with a pretty bow of the title of an mc. She would’ve never thought that she’d go from being a bed-warmer to being so cold.

“I must be right then, huh? Suga-sunbae I can see, but J-Hope-sunbae…’’ Taehyung whistled lowly under his breath. “I thought you’d at least deny that. It’s the bright ones you gotta watch out for.’’

A dial noise was the only response. Did…Did this bastard hang up on him? Taehyung grimaced before three knocks rang on the door of the hotel suite, a signal from his asshole manager that Namjoon had finally arrived. Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, his joints crackling a little, and made sure all of his jewelry was perfectly back in place before he opened the door.

As Namjoon shuffled in with some of the staff members, Taehyung clasped his silver watch around his wrist with a soft click. He rolled his neck, trying to get the stiffness out of it, and exposed purple marks and bruises from the bites the now dead girl had given him when they had been fucking earlier.

Finally, his headache was gone.

You chugged down a cup of stale coffee and wiped the dribble of liquid that escaped the corner of your mouth as you clicked off some article about a newbie mc receiving slander after rumors of her making moves on a popular idol was exposed and disappearing to avoid the backlash. Squinting at your screen with dry eyes, you pursed your lips and snapped the laptop shut, pushing the device away from you in an agitated huff.

“Wbat’s got you in the gutters, huh? Let me guess…,’’ Park Jimin, your desk mate, rolled his chair over to your side, his glasses askew on his nose,” Ah, your favorite celebrity go into a dating scandal? Let me think, who was it that recently go into a scandal… Oh, is it that pretty boy from a new idol group?’’

You gave him the stink-eye, and your sigh this time was even louder.

“You’d think there’d be something more…interesting going with these celebrities that we could get our hands on. Too much money, lots of stress, yet no story that’ll really seize the audience by surprise, and don’t you dare say a dating scandal would do it. Boss’s been on my case for the whole week on writing an article to shock the audience and wants me to release a major headliner story in two weeks, or that asshole’ll fire me. Damn it, Kim Seokjin!” you hissed out before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

“Man, be careful with your volume; if he hears your tone, he’ll chew you out for another hour that you could be using to research. Boss Kim is picky like that with everyone because our company’s a small piece of seaweed in a system dominated by crustaceous predators.” Jimin poked you in the side jokingly, his plush lips spread in a wide smile that lit up his exhausted face. “Just think really hard; use that big brain of yours and focus on a celebrity. Come on, no one’s perfect, even that one super famous idol Kim Taehyung must have some flaws, so don’t sweat it.”

“That golden boy? Man, the whole nation’s pussy-whipped for him. He couldn’t possibly be anything bu—,’’ you sharply inhaled before pushing your seat back and rapidly swiveling to face Jimin,’’ Park. Fucking. Jimin. Oh my God, you’re a fucking genius! A whole career with not even a speck of dirt… Come on, even pure-faced idol Soyeon was caught with a scandal last month. There must be something on the nation’s golden boy!’’

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise with your sudden outburst, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Be careful about the way you go when you try to fish out info on him. His company’s security isn’t something easy to get through, and not a single celeb from that company has gotten into a single scandal. No reporters been able to get any dirt from them…”

“Which means that…there’s something sketchy happening. Jimin, Jimin, have I told you I’m in love with you?’’

You turned around quickly in your chair, spinning in glee. Jimin dropped his mouth open to sputter something, and his cheeks were tinging red, but you weren’t looking at or even listening to Jimin at hat point, having already cracked open your laptop to furiously type Kim Taehyung into Naver. This was it! Your big break! Your motivation sky-rocketed, and you felt the first rush of energy that wasn’t fueled by some caffeinated drink in a long while.

Two hours later, you were ready to throw up.

All of the results were sickeningly the same bullshit, as what was expected for someone as beloved by the nation as Kim Taehyung was. You couldn’t fathom the amount of fancams and magazine spreads of him posing on some brown leather sofa and fact pieces—hell, you even knew what kind of socks the man liked—that you had spent the past hours scrolling through.

Realizing that the office was nearly empty, and that the sky was dimming into a dark hue, you were about to shut down your laptop and call it a long fucking day when a tweet on someone’s SNS caught your eye.

@truth-teller: kim taehyung? nation’s golden boy? are you all really sure about that nonsense?

The tweet was spammed with angered replies, so many that the thread seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, but your interest was piqued. This was the first word of slander you had ever witnessed against Taehyung. You quickly pounded out a message to the account.

@name_01: hey, I saw your tweet about taehyung! Do you perhaps have any more information on him? I find him suspicious too.

You tapped send and waited with bated breath for a reply. Minutes crept by, and you were about to turn off your phone and head out of work when you noticed three dots pop up, dancing before disappearing.

@truth-teller: you fr? I had to suspend my acc because of all the spam I got. No one’s believed me on it, but I have proof

You chewed on your lip. What if this was a joke, and you were just wasting your time on some internet troll with too much time on their hands. It seemed like you were taking too long to reply because another message popped up.

@truth-teller: if you don’t believe me then that’s fine. I don’t have to waste my time

@name_01: WAIT! Sorry, it took me a second to comprehend this information… Please tell me more.

You were worried that the account wouldn’t reply anymore, and that you had ruined your opportunity before the three dots popped up again and another message was sent.

@truth-teller: ok, if you want to find out more let’s move to a better messaging platform, just in case my acc gets suspended by more fans. here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was a gamble to send some stranger on the internet your number, but at this point, you were too desperate to really give a damn. There was a story just out of the reach of your fingertips; you would be a fool to deny the carrot on a stick you were being provided.

@name-01: okay, I’ll message you.

Name: hey! Truth-teller right? This is me from the messages

JK: yeah that’s me. I prefer JK when I’m not on sns tho

Name: I’m (y/n). I don’t mean to sound like I’m hurrying you, but I want to hear what you have to say about Taehyung.

JK: lol r u a reporter or smth? Real bossy of you keke

You sucked in a breath. Should you reveal that?

Name: haha would it be bad if I said I was?

There was no response for the next 15 minutes. Exhaling a long sigh, you decided that you should at least maneuver your way home; the office had been cleared out completely during your conversation with this JK, and you couldn’t help the creeps that the emptiness gave you. If anything, the walk back to your place would give you some outlet for the nervous energy radiating throughout you. You were nearly at the door of your apartment when your phone vibrated in your pocket, signaling a message.

JK: just checking. Makes sense that you’re one though. It’d be nice if you could break this story out, but I hope you trust me enough after I tell you what I know

You clicked the door shut behind you, your eyebrows creased as you stared at your phone screen.

Name: don’t worry. I trust you!

You dropped your bag down onto the sofa before throwing your body onto the seat. The three dots under JK’s name popped up for several minutes before disappearing. In the place of the three dots, a long message had been typed out.

JK: I didn’t really think much of taehyung when I first heard about him since he’s the nation’s golden boy or whatever bs title they call him nowadays, but my sister’s friend was a big fan of him. she went out with my sister and they met him in some shady club in gangnam. my sister’s friend got to talk to him exclusively and my sister got separated from her and got a text from her friend saying that she had smth come up and she already went home. she tried to contact her friend the day after, but she got a text back saying that her friend wasn’t feeling well. my sister’s friend was “best friends’’ with her but she didn’t contact my sister again until a week later saying she got a job opportunity overseas and already was about to board on the plane because it was important she got there fast. my sister’s friend didn’t contact her again like she dropped off the face of the earth

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you tapped out a message back, your nails clicking against the screen.

Name: ?? Are you sure that isn’t a coincidence?

JK: yeah, I thought so too but it was rly sus that my sister’s friend who had known my sister for 12 years to suddenly go overseas for a job opportunity without telling her at all. and when my sister tried to get new contact info from her friend there was no reply. but I got curious and since I do some computer work for my job i wanted to see if I could track the ip address of her phone but there was nothing. her last previous ip was all the way back in gangnam and my sister’s friend lived in incheon. that was a red flag so I decided to go talk to the landlord at my sister’s friend’s old apartment and the landlord said he didn’t see her come back since before that night but woke up to a fully paid lease and the apartment cleared out

You squinted your eyes at the screen, unable to properly process the information that this so-called JK had just given you. Chewing on your lip, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them back up and typing back a message.

Name: anything else? Sorry…just seems a bit far-fetched.

JK: think whatever then. I have to go to work now

Right when JK’s message popped up, another message pinged on your cell. You refused to let yourself ponder more on JK’s last message as you clicked on your friend’s text notification.

Platonic LOML <3: BAE, R U FREE TONIGHT? I’m lonely n want someone to come with me to this club— ik you’re not into clubs but pretty please

You were about to reply with a refusal when JK’s words came up to your mind again. You didn’t know why, but there was a sharp feeling in your gut that told you that you couldn’t miss this opportunity Call it silly intuition or some coincidental fabrication spurned by your mind, but that feeling persisted until you typed out a reply to your friend.

Name: okay fine. Come over in 30.

Taehyung swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the deep burgundy of the wine stain the glass a soft pink. His head was hurting again, and the new medication he had been taking for them on advice of the company didn’t work.

He scanned the dim, musty club, watching the pulsating lights cloak the dancing bodies in sallow shades of pale yellow. This club was a downgrade from his previous celebrity-exclusive club that he had gone to the previous week, but his manager had told him that if he really wanted peace, he should choose an area where no one would really know him.

Taehyung knew the real reason why his manager had insisted on this. Deaths of other celebrities were much harder to cover up after all.

Pity he actually followed his manager’s advice for once. The wine in here, despite the bougie price tag, was complete shit and provided him a slight buzz at best. And there was no one who really caught his eye out of the crowd of people. As he was about to get up from his seat and leave the club for somewhere with better—he contemplated going back to that celebrity club just to fuck with his company—pickings, he caught sight of someone entering the club.

You looked absolutely gorgeous, swathed in a black shift that you kept fighting to keep over your ass—and god, was it a plump ass too, the kind that made Taehyung’s cock hard in his tight black pants—with hair framing your face in a breathtaking way that showed glimpses of sparkling jewelry. Your friend, some chick with dyed green hair that Taehyung didn’t bother paying attention to, was clinging onto your arm, dragging you near the dance floor.

Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His head seemed to clear from the mind-numbing throb it always had when he spent too much time without another victim to take his aggression out of. Feeling the cool metal of the blade he always had tucked near his body, Taehyung sat back down in his seat, a playful smile perking at the edges of his lips. Funny enough, the blood thirst that never seemed to properly leave him was gone from his mind, an occurrence that was as rare as the pills the company liked shoving down his throat actually working for once.

You maneuvered your way over to the bar, to him, your friend pouting as she noticed you leaving before melting away into the crowd of grinding bodies. Taehyung swore then and there that the attraction between you and him was absolutely magnetic, with the way you seemed to pull the other towards one another.

He watched as you ordered some pretty-colored martini, adorably scrunching your face as the burn of alcohol coated your tongue and hit the back of your throat with a singe.

Maybe, Taehyung though to himself as he propped his chin lazily on his palm, he should really start listening to his manager more often.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t even notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the two of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind suddenly sobering up as you realized who the man sitting next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

“Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed an award-winning coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features seeming to increase in beauty from the grin.

You remembered JK’s words and a chill ran up your spine. God, his messages didn’t seem so implausible now, did they? Goosebumps rose up on your skin, freezing you to the bar table. Were…Were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. The side of you that was a reckless journalist wanted to take a nosedive at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

“Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,’’ your lips twitched slightly as you forced them into a hopefully convincing gentle smile, refusing his offer softly before moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Having drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked a hell of a lot less nervous than you actually felt and a lot more convincing too because Taehyung’s shoulders, which had previously been winded like he was a predator getting ready to pounce on prey, seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam in his eyes when he again invaded your personal space and pushed his body near yours. He leaned in and whispered softly into your ears, his voice clear despite the early 2010s hits blaring from the speakers by the dance floor.

“If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a bit?’’

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience store meal of ramen that you had scarfed before coming to the club all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive luxury bran clothes. You could feel a sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused its carnivorous attention on them.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung as loud and clear as you could manage.

“No thanks; I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a strained polite smile before you headed over the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of breaking out into the outright run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the linger scent of your perfume, a natural smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form. Even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view, you could still feel it.

You found yourself painfully sober after that encounter, trying to look normal in front of your friend for the rest of the night that seemed to painstakingly drag on for eternity. Even when you had the short 2-minute walk from the cab you took to your front door, you didn’t stop looking over your shoulder, still feeling the chill that came with the thought of Taehyung’s gaze. When you got inside your home, the bubbling nausea in your stomach took control over you, and you ended up heaving your dinner down the toilet.

When you managed to somewhat pull yourself together, you typed out a quick message with practically shaking fingers to the only one you could think of in that moment would understand what you were feeling, You stared at your unsent message before hastily pressing send.Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Ping!

You barely managed to fall asleep that night, and your eyes painfully ached when you peeled your eyelids open, hurriedly grabbing your phone and turning it on to check your messages.

JK: what happened? Sry for late response. Job keeps me busy all night

Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out your message, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration as you tried to relay the events of your night in hopefully comprehensible words.

Name: I went with my friend to some sketchy club idk what area at this point but I went to the bar and I felt someone come up to me ?? I turned and realized it was Taehyung, and he offered to buy me a drink but I declined. Makes me sick how I could’ve been his next victim, so I tried to leave and go back to where there was more ppl in the club, But I can’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes. There was something sickening in them, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

JK didn’t respond for a bit, and you exhaled a trembling breath when his message popped up.

JK: be careful. Im glad you managed to get away

Name: I’m scared. I didn’t know what to do, but hopefully I’ll never see him again once I get this scoop out.

JK: stay safe. Thx for telling me. Text me if anything else happens.

You let out a shaky breath before clicking your phone off, your nerves still rattled but slightly more calmed down after talking with JK. You had to get ready for work, but at this rate, you weren’t even sure how you would be able to get through the day. Maybe you should take a sick day? No, you couldn’t.

The elevator dinged closed behind you as you stepped out of it into the office. As you were about to take a seat at your desk, your boss rushed out of his office, relief, something he never showed to you, evident on his expression once he caught sight of you.

“(Y/n)! Come into my office; I have an important job for you,’’ your boss ushered you into his office without another word, practically pushing a baffled you into the room frantically,” You know the company that manages Kim Taehyung? They reached out and agreed to an exclusive one-on-one interview with Kim Taehyung only, and only, if you agreed to the interview.”

You stiffened, your body frozen as you tried to process the words your boss had just spoken. Your brain seemed to be running a marathon as you computed the words your boss said, and you could only meekly respond with a limp,” Why me? Can’t somebody…Can’t someone else take over? Boss…you know I’m not that experienced.”

Boss Kim barely paid any attention to your words as he rested a hand on your shoulder with a confident look on his face.

“Then, use this opportunity to get more experience. You want to show the world that you’re a journalist by getting a scoop? Then take this interview! You know the company never agrees to exclusive one-on-one interviews unless they’re all staged, but there wasn’t even talk of this being staged at all. If you can use this opportunity and get something big, won’t this be your biggest step towards a great journalist career?’’ your boss exclaimed,’’ If you back out, another chance like this won’t come again!”

As much of an asshole Boss Kim was sometimes, you could find the logic in his words. Besides, it must be a coincidence that Kim Taehyung wanted you specifically to give him an interview; maybe he wanted a newbie, so they wouldn’t have much experience trying to fish out personal details and twist his words.

That’s right. There was no way he even remembered what you looked like. You guys interacted for, what, a solid 2 minutes last night. And if you did this interview right, you could use it as a building block as evidence for the headliner you intended to release with what JK had told you.

You exhaled, nodding your head firmly.

“I will. I’ll take this interview.”

Boss Kim’s face brightened, making him look much more like the stereotypical handsome CEO character found in dramas. Since he always looked exhausted and stressed out, he always seemed more intimidating, an aura that seemed to scare off any thoughts about how gorgeous he actually was. You had to admit: your heart did flutter a bit at his face.

“Excellent! He’s waiting in the meeting room right now! You only need, what, six hours to prepare, right?”

Fuck, you take back that heart flutter. Boss Kim was an asshole.

“S-Sir,’’ you sputtered,” I can’t…’’

Before you even finished your words, Boss Kim was already ushering you back out of the office.

“I believe in you! You got this!”

He closed the door behind you. You swallowed back the mouthful of swears you wanted to spew before scrambling towards your desk.

You weren’t prepared, but you knew you would do anything for a scoop.

Exactly 6 hours and seventeen seconds later, you were primly seated in front of Kim Taehyung.

The seats were annoyingly too close, and you cursed Boss Kim in your heart, knowing that the reason why the chairs were placed in such an unprofessional manner was because Boss Kim wanted to create the perfect intimate setting for no cost. If you tried to extend your legs, you’d end up smacking them straight into Taehyung’s legs.

You, although disgruntled, had to admit that there was a reason why so many major brands wanted him as their model. He was handsome under the shitty lighting of the musty club last night, but here, with his hair and makeup carefully done despite the fluorescent lighting of the room, he was every synonym of the word beautiful combined into one person.

Blond strands of his hair brushed his chiseled features, and his eyes, curved attractively and framed with delicate long wisps of eyelashes, was intensely focused on your face. He looked ever like a marble statue, carved with attention and detail to be the most perfect specimen artistry could ever create. But he wasn’t perfect; that was what you knew. And that would also be what would you get just one step ahead of him.

You swept a piece of hair and tucked it behind an ear as you scanned your hastily scribbled notes. His eyes clung to that movement, as if he was mesmerized by your every action, and you peeked a look through your lashes. Your eyes met, and you forced a stiff smile.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you rolled your shoulders back into a proper posture, gingerly extending a hand out for him to take,” Good morning. It’s an honor to be able to do an interview with you.”

The edges of his lips tilted upward, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as his previous fiercely predatory state melted into the façade he put up in front of the public. He reached out and took your hand, throwing you off guard as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“Likewise, it’s an honor to have an interview with you, (Y/n).’’

Yuck, you were going to have to wash your hands later. Anyways, what kind of person even kissed the back of people’s hands nowadays? This was the 21st century for fuck’s sake. You somehow kept your grimace to yourself.

You nervously laughed as you practically yanked your hand back out of his grasp. You casually wiped the back of your hand on the fabric of your skirt, disguising the movement as simply brushing off dust. Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave any of your movements, and he laughed a little as he realized just what you were doing.

Oh, you were so interesting. You weren’t like the rest of them, the fans that threw themselves at him adoringly; hell, he was sure you weren’t even a fan. He was entranced. When he was close to you, the headaches seemed to fade; he didn’t want to drown himself in another body when he was with you. He didn’t want to kill when he was with you.

You ignored his burning gaze, breezing through the beginning parts of the interview. Finally, you reached the part that you had been anxiously preparing for.

“So, I heard that you’re trying out a new actor role. As a model and an artist and now an actor, we have to admit that your talents are incredibly versatile, Kim Taehyung-ssi.’’ You continued speaking. “Could you tell us a little more about this role?’’

“You flatter me too much, (Y/n).’’ He purposefully had left any formalities to the wind in this interview, a move that made you want to grind your teeth. “Yes, I was offered one of the leading roles in a new thriller movie. I’ll be acting as one of the charismatic but complex characters. I hope to show you and all of my fans a new side to Kim Taehyung.”

“Ah, a new side,’’ you nodded lightly,” Your new role as a charismatic serial killer who targets his admirers is certainly what many would call…complex. How do you go about preparing for such a twisted role?”

“Hmm…,’’ Taehyung’s lips curled up menacingly for a brief moment before fading away into a breezy smile,’’ It’s quite difficult to immerse myself into a role in which I have limited experience in, so I like to read through the script and make a map of what the character is like. What motivates him; what makes him so…complex, as you called it. I pretend to be like the character. How do I make myself think like him? That’s the question I like to try to find an answer to.”

“Ah, this is simply my personal opinion, but to truly play the character requires some true life experience…Is it possible that you’ve ever done anything similar to what the character has done in real life?”

A pin seemed to drop in that very moment from the silence that crowded the room. Everyone in the room froze and stared at you, their glances less than pleasant. You bore it all as you stared intently into his eyes. Slip up, you prayed, do something that will make you slip up. There was not even a brief soft sound in the 10 seconds that it took for Taehyung to respond.

He was rigid, the smile plastered on his face barely fading. Come on, you begged, expose yourself just a bit.

“Your response is lagging for just a bit, Kim Taehyung-ssi. It makes you seem guilty just a bit, doesn’t it?’’

He snapped out of it right then and there.

“I was simply contemplating my response. Your impatience is something not so befitting of a formal interview. To answer your question, isn’t a role just a role at the end of the day? If you think about it, I’m not the only person to have played a role like this. Many actors and actresses have done so without any thought of relating it to their real life. After all, a role is simply an imaginary self.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt the gazes of other people around you burn into you.

You settled on a retreat. It was fine; this interview was just the first building block. You laughed lightly, throwing off the previous tense silence easily.

“Of course! We wouldn’t expect nothing but, right? We hope to see your talent truly shine through in this new role!’’

The tenseness in the room seemed to slip away right then, and the deathly gazes on you flitted away, like they were never there in the first place.

You let out a sigh as you left the interview room. God, that was terrifying, but you knew that you had to do what you had just previously done. What you had just done asserted the theory that you had. His company was hiding something about him, and that something was nothing less than downright horrific.

JK, you thought to yourself, I’m going to expose this story, just you wait.

“You weren’t just going to leave, huh?’’

You heard a familiar voice speak behind you, and you quickly spun around.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you forced out of your throat,’’ I believed you had already left.”

“I was going to, but I wanted to speak to you about the interview. The company rarely lets me do interviews, so it was really refreshing to have one done with you. We worked so well together, and I would like to thank you for the pleasant experience you had given me with dinner. You must be starving, right?’’

You had been starving earlier, but one word from Taehyung left your stomach churning in nausea.

“No!’’ your voice was a bit too loud, so you hastily softened it,’’ No, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to thank me.”

Taehyung took steps closer to you, and you unconsciously took a step back. Noticing your movements, he looked at you and flashed a grin that might’ve looked harmless to others but outright menacing to you.

“Are you scared of me?’’ his voice was almost like a purr. You fought back a shiver, straightening your back and looking him straight in the eyes.

“No,’’ you stabilized your voice, keeping a waver out of it,” Why would I be scared of you? You’re not some higher being than me just because you’re a celebrity. You’re human, after all. But, as you can see, I have work to do, so I will have to politely decline your offer.”

“You can have the rest of the day off.”

You spun around on your heels, your gaze colliding with Boss Kim’s. When did he arrive?

“Sir! Boss! No, if I skipped out on work, I’d be a burden to everyone. Besides, I—,’’ your voice was cut off by another voice.

“It’d be good to establish a positive relationship between your company and ours. Your boss would usually be the one to go to a dinner, but I believe he already has plans. Any work you were unable to fulfill today will be taken care of.”

The voice seemed to chill you to the bone. You turned to make eyes with a man. Was he…Taehyung’s manager? Although he was handsome, the kind of handsome that was comparable with Taehyung’s, something about him churned your stomach. While Taehyung was like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey, the man behind this voice was already sinking his teeth into the neck, wringing out the… You snapped out of your thoughts.

Snap out of it, you mentally scolded yourself.

“How about it?’’ Taehyung’s manager coldly smiled, his tone like glaciers.

You opened your mouth to try to refute, but with the burning gaze from your boss, you could only dip your head in a bow, your voice low.

“Thank you for the offer. I accept.”

They couldn’t kill you, right? It’d be too obvious.

You followed them out, and when you passed by Boss Kim, you made a panicked glance at him. What greeted you made you halt briefly in your pace.

When Boss Kim made eye contact with you, he patted your shoulder in what should’ve been reassurance. His lips spread out in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me, hmm?’’

His words, spoken low and steady, left a chill in your veins as you kept walking, and the sliding doors of the elevator dinged close behind you, effectively trapping you with Taehyung and his manager.

You somehow made it out of the elevator and through the tense car ride alive. Now, you were seated next to Taehyung himself in the private room of a restaurant. Smoke rose from the grill, briefly obscuring your view of his manager from across you.

You tried to think positively of the situation. If Taehyung was drunk, maybe he’d slip up, but…you made a furtive glance at his manager from across the grill, slightly jolting when your eyes collided with his own. The fear that nearly overcame you made you nauseous.

“A drink?”

Taehyung’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned to see him already raising his glass. You stiffly smiled, barely managing to keep the nervous twitch out of the curves of your lips.

“I don’t drink.”

“It’s impolite to decline a friendly offer. Come on, a toast to a wonderful…partnership.” Taehyung chuckled, raising his glass, as he leaned his chin onto the propped palm of his hand,” And we wouldn’t want a bad start to it.”

You were panicking by now, but you could imagine what Boss Kim would say if Taehyung’s company pulled out because of something so miniscule. You couldn’t afford to lose your job, not with the way you had fought tooth and nail to get your position; you wouldn’t last a month without your job or the meager protection it gave you.

You made your decision, a decision you would’ve done anything else but avoid, and tilted the glass up, clinking it against Taehyung’s glass. Turning away, you made it look like you were lightly sipping the drink, but you only allowed the liquid to slightly wet your lips. You set down the still-full glass and smiled pleasantly.

“I can only drink this much. Anymore, and I would experience terrible side effects.”

Taehyung didn’t seem even irked by your feeble attempt at pretending; instead, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn’t stop staring at you, and the threatening vibe of it caused you to unconsciously delve into your habit of gripping your glass of water and drinking it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You placed the empty glass back down before resuming anxiously picking at your food. A pair of chopsticks—specifically Taehyung’s chopsticks—placed a piece of barbecued meat on your bowl of rice.

“Not feeling hungry? You need to eat. Skipping meals is bad for your health,’’ Taehyung beamed as he watched you carefully pick up the piece of meat and eat it. It would’ve been delicious any other time, but the churning in your gut made it taste like sand in your mouth. You dryly swallowed it.

“I’m heading to the restroom.”

You heard Taehyung’s manager speak in his flat tone, and you threw a skittish glance at him as he stood up and walked out of the private room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Ah, now that that nuisance is out of the way, why don’t we talk more?’’ Taehyung’s tone was playful, and you flinched as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing against the outer shell of your ear.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you gritted the name through your teeth,” Please respect my personal space.”

He laughed lowly before he dropped a hand on your thigh. You were about to make a move to push him away, but your body suddenly felt tired, like you weren’t quite in control anymore.

“Come on, do what I say, and your little news company will do so much better. Your boss didn’t tell you this, but your company’s going bankrupt. One peep from me, and your company will rise in ranking, but I can only do that if I’m in a…happy mood.”

Taehyung pressed even closer to you, his nose against the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply in. His hands moved from his side and he ripped open the buttons of your shirt, groping your bra-covered tits. You let out an incoherent mumble in response, trying to flimsily kick at him.

Where was the waiter? Why was his manager taking so long? They planned this!

Disgust and heat coiled in your gut, but you were too dizzy to move. Something…that bastard…Did he spike your water? You were too careless, fuck. Taehyung moved one hand to tilt your chin up before his lips met yours. Despite how sloppy of a kiss it was, you could tell he was experienced, practically tasting every inner crevice of your soft mouth with his tongue, and you should’ve continued to be revolted, but whatever pill in your system had you melting into his mouth.

Taehyung seemed to sense the turmoil and conflict in you and the soft give of your will, and that seemed to make him even braver. He slid a hand up your skirt, his touch hot even through the fabric of your stockings, and you let out a startled moan against his lips, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth. He pulled back, and you could barely see through the teary haze of your eyes. It had been too long since the last time you had a good fuck. You just wanted to be touched…wanted to be fucked so hard his cock would press against your womb.

“I just want to see you let go a bit, baby,’’ there was the triumph of domination in his voice. The sober part of you wanted to rebel, wanted to push and scream and kick him away, but you weren’t sober, weren’t clear-minded. Your legs spread as if begging for more of his touch.

He ripped his fingers through your stocking, and the material easily gave way underneath his strength. You could feel the damp spot on your panties, growing as he rubbed his fingertips against your drooling pussy. You shivered slightly in delirious pleasure as his finger rolled over your throbbing clit.

“Mmph!’’ you let out a sound as he pushed your soaked panties to the side and pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. You couldn’t object, not when your pussy was stretching with a spine-tingling ache around his fingers, and especially not when he begin to set a teasing pace. He pushed his fingers in, and you shut your eyes in shame as your moans grew louder.

Your toes curled as his movements grew faster, reaching deep into you, and you were so, so close. Oh my god you could feel…and you were cumming hard. Your walls shivered and twitched around his still moving fingers, and you murmured a dazed plea as he finally stilled and pulled his fingers out. You, still twitching from how hard you came earlier, were ashamed to see the way his fingers glistened with the remnants of your arousal and orgasm.

The sound of his pants being unclasped drew you out of your drugged state. No, he wasn’t going to…Come on, snap out of it, snap out of it.

He drew back closer again, and you sucked in a breath, trying to push through your daze. He leaned in. You managed to bring your arms up to the table, grabbing the nearest object that you could reach. Your trembling fingers closed around your nearly empty water glass, and you took it, raising it and smashing it as hard as you could over his head. Water, ice cubes, and glass shards struck as the glass broke. Taehyung, not expecting the blow, had a temporary moment of weakness, and you managed to push him off you.

You shoved yourself up onto shaky legs, wrapping the ripped blouse around your weakened body, and forced yourself into a run outside of the room. The hallway of the restaurant around the private rooms was empty, devoid of any person. You frantically looked over your shoulder, relieved that you didn’t see him coming after you. This was a public place, though it was late at night, and you knew Taehyung wouldn’t risk his perfect reputation. But still, you remembered his manager was still out there.

You couldn’t let them kill you…You had to survive! You broke into a blind run, ignoring the strange looks and the calls you got from the restaurant’s staff as you pushed out of the restaurant into the street. You kept running despite the dizziness of your mind, and you could barely see what was in front of you before…You crashed into someone, slamming into their body so hard that you were sent sprawling to the ground.

“Please…,’’ you choked out, your voice strangled, crying out a desperate plea as you grabbed onto their clothes,’’ Please help me.”

Your mind was dizzy, splotches of colors splattering your blurry vision. Your body had overexerted yourself, and you prayed that you wouldn’t end up a dead body on the news as your grip around the clothes went lip, and you collapsed into the road. Through the buzzing of your ears, you could hear a startled voice call out, feel a firm touch grab your shoulders and try to shake you awake. Some strange hope rose in you; maybe…maybe…?

You murmured desperately one last mumble, your words barely making sense, as you spiraled into unconsciousness.

“JK…please help me.”

A/N: if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part, reply with a ❤️. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment or a detailed review below <3

Next work will be a fic for Jungkook’s upcoming birthday. Poll will be released soon for what kind of plot it should have!

926 notes · View notes

alloftheimaginess · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a supernatural cast series where you’re the wife and you do different interviews, like the videos on YouTube like Ad or thirst tweets or just answering fan questions whatever plz. If you have questions just message me and I’ll try to explain it further

Lol sorry it’s been like four months so don’t hate me but it’s been hard work juggling trying to write, school and work so sorry. I think it sucks but hopefully you’ll like it and I’ll be tagging the other parts in this one

Burning Fan Questions

Other parts

Alexander Calvert

Misha Collins

Jensen Ackles

"Hi I'm Yn Padalecki and I will be answer the fans burning questions about my life" I say smiling at the camera as I grab the bucket that's full of questions.

"I'm super nervous for this because before I got here Jared double dog dared me to answer literally every single question so I can't use my skip button" I say and the crew behind the camera laughs.

"Please for the love of god let their be questions to embarrass Jared more than me so he can eat it" I say giggling.

"First question" I say grabbing a folded up piece of paper from out the bucket.

"Who is the rudest celebrity that you've ever had the chance of meeting?" I read and I laugh.

"Oh that's a lot of them, there's an unsurprising amount of rude celebrities who think that they own Hollywood" I say laughing.

"But enough stalling because I have to answer this question anyway, the rudest celebrity that I've ever met was Christian Bale, no offense but he was a total dick to literally everyone around him, on set, off of set just everywhere" I say digging around the bucket for another question.

"What scandals has your team had to cover up?" I read and I start laughing.

"Noooooo" I say laughing even harder because I know I have to tell them.

"Okay okay. When I was 23 I had first met Jared and we got caught you know doing the deed and then the pictures were about to go out and they had to buy all of them back for double of what they were going to get" I say laughing shaking the bucket up and grabbing another one out.

"Have you ever used your celebrity status to get something for free?" I read.

"One time when I was out my daughter, Harlow we were getting frozen yogurt and I left my credit card at the restaurant we were at before without realizing it and at the register she goes oh my god are you Jared from supernatural's wife and when I'm with my daughters I usually pretend like I'm not but I totally knew she was going to give us the yogurt for free so I was like yeah, and then I asked her how she was and she was like oh this is totally on the house" I say laughing.

"I eventually went back and tipped a massive tip because I didn't pay last time" I say.

I grab another one out and I put the bucket down opening it "how many kids do you actually want?" I read.

"Well I already have two now but I'm aiming for at least five" I say laughing.

"I have a big family I'm one of 9 so I've always wanted a big family but not as big as mine so four or five would be a perfect size family for me, I honestly have a enough love for a million but four or five is definitely good for me" I say grabbing another question.

"If we came to your house what would we find in your cabinets food wise?" I read laughing.

"What an interesting question" I say.

"Everyone in the Padalecki household has their own cabinets because they are huge smackers. Harlow's is filled with the stuff she likes such as teddy Grahams, fruit roll ups, dried Cranberries, jolly ranchers stuff like that. Mine is filled with little cakes, gushers, banana chips which I swear by, peanuts, popcorn and Jared's, he has tons of candy, he is absolutely in love with white chocolate macadamia cookies and he always has those in his stash and Kiernan she's still on baby food so she's fully stocked on that" I say grabbing another question out.

"If you had to marry anyone that has starred along side your husband in his show supernatural who would it be?" I read.

"Oh hmm" I say laughing.

"Okay, Jensen is like Jared's best friend but I'm way closer to Misha so I'd definitely have to say Misha but no offense to his wife because I'd totally marry her as well or maybe even Rob, I love that man to pieces, he's a really good friend but then there's Rich, no offense to his wife Jaci but Rich and I have the best dance off's so that would be something to look forward to" I say laughing as I grab another question.

"If you woke up in Jared's body and had to stay in it for a day what would you do?" I say laughing.

"Easy, I'd leave myself little notes with plans for tomorrow so when I switch back he'll have to go through with them and we could have a perfectly planned out day because I planned it" I say laughing.

"If you go out to dinner with your non-famous friends, do you all still split the bill or do you pay?" I read.

"It depends really, my childhood friends don't like for me to pay for their stuff so we'll all split the bill but if I'm the one inviting everyone out then I'll pay before hand because then it'll be a lot of work trying to break it up" I say grabbing another question.

"What's one thing that Jared does that absolutely pisses you off?" I read cracking up.

"Breathes" I say smiling at the camera.

"I'm just kidding" I say laughing.

"When I'm super busy and like concentrating on my work he'll come over and innocently wrap his arms around me but then when I'm not paying him enough attention he'll start softly biting me and while I'm trying to work that can be so annoying" I say.

"What was the worst rumor that has been spread about you?" I read.

"I've had some pretty bad ones that I like to pretend didn't happen because they were literally so outrageous but I guess the worst one was that I was cheating on Jared. A few years back Harlow and I flew to my hometown for a few weeks and we spent Halloween out there and my twin sister and I dressed up as Sally from nightmare before Christmas because we've always done matching costumes whenever we're with each other and I posted a selfie on Instagram so everyone knew what I looked like but no one knew my twin sister was dressed identical to me and she took Harlow around with her now husband while I helped my parents be set up for the party and the paparazzi caught them together while they shared a kiss and while Eric played with Harlow and she was giggling and they put the photos on the front of the magazine and I was getting so much hate before I even knew what was going on and I was getting calls from our friends and they were asking me like how I could do that and then I had to go and post my pictures with my sister and write this long ass message about it and it was super bad" I say moving on.

"Who do you look up to the most, and what qualities do you love about that person?" I read.

"My grandma, she pretty much raised me. My parents weren't around often so I had to live with her for like 5 years, me and all of my siblings" I say digging in the bucket.

"But the qualities that I love about her is one, the fact that she is the strongest person I've had the honor of meeting" I say holding up one finger.

"Two, her boldness is like unbelievable. I took her to the oscars and she started flirting with The Rock and that's when I realized my grandma was my hero" I say laughing and I pull another question out.

"What's something you did as a child that no one knows about outside of your family?" I read.

"For two years I only spoke in a British accent, I had everyone confused at school because I never broke" I say laughing.

"How often do you and Jared have sex?" I read burying my face.

"No, I'm not going to be embarrassed. Sex is a normal thing, it brings about joy, relaxation, sometimes accidental pregnancies" I say laughing.

"But back to the question, I don't know. He's gone for like nine months out of the year but if he has a three day weekend or whatever then we'll spend a night together but when he's home in the three months he's off of filming it's literally whenever the kids are gone if even just for 20 minutes. We try to keep it as normal as possible" I say laughing.

"What's the last text conversation you had?" I read pulling out my phone and I laugh.

"I texted Robert about his new Batman movie because it was announced the other day and I just seen it this morning so I had to quickly congratulate him and he tells me that while I'm super late he still appreciates it and won't hold anything against me when it's time to hand out movie tickets and I said I'd never forgot about you shiny and he sent the middle finger emoji" I say laughing.

"What are your pet names that you and Jared have for each other?" I read.

"Ha, finally a question that he'd normally not talk about but I was dared so I call him Bubba or bubs" I say laughing.

"Literally it's how he's saved in my phone and he thinks it's so embarrassing" I say pulling my phone out and showing his contact name and photo.

"He's Bubba and he calls me a lot of different things but the one he always goes back to is beautiful or baby" I say smiling at the camera.

“Do your siblings and Jared get along?�� I read and I laugh sighing.

“Like I mentioned earlier I’m one of nine so that’s eight siblings and then all of my siblings are older than me. I’m the baby and they are all married so my older brother and his husband love Jared and Jared loves them, we’re actually both of their kids godparents but then with my third oldest sister she doesn’t like me so she doesn’t like Jared by default you know” I say grabbing another question.

“Okay this is a question I have to know how often you do and Jared shower together?” I read laughing.

“Do you have to know that?” I ask laughing harder.

“Sorry to let you down but we don’t really, we’ll not anymore with kids it’s best one of us is out the shower while the other one quickly showers because we can’t leave them along for too long” I say knowing that my answer is not what they were expecting.

“But before kids it’s was an every morning thing we did together before heading out for our different business or whatever we had to do that day” I say.

“Did you have an oh shit moment at your wedding, and if so what was it?” I read and I nod.

“Yeah actually I did. But it’s been so long since we got married that I actually forgot until I read this question. My brother bless his poor heart showed up drunk like he was pregaming our wedding and the security didn’t know he was my brother so they were like kicking him out and my sister runs in like “oh my god Yn, the security just kicked Kalin out” so I’m like half dressed and I go down to try to figure out what the hell is happening and then I meet up with him and he throws up all over me like I’m talking full body covered and the make up artist just left and I had to shower and call her back so she could come fix my face and it was very traumatizing because it was so gross” I say laughing.

“But the whole wedding was beautiful and he didn’t drink at all” I say.

“If you had to pick a song from the late 10’s-2020 to be you and Jared’s couple song what would you pick?” I read and I awe.

“That’s a cute question. I guess I’d have to say Flicker by Niall Horan, we danced together to that song when Alex Calvert and his wife got married and it literally felt so magical and now whenever I hear it, it takes me back to a happy place and I just think about slow dancing with my best friend and husband” I say smiling.

“Do you and all the wives of the supernatural cast get along?” I read and I quickly nod.

“Those girls are some of my best friends, they know what it’s like to have a family and their husband work on supernatural so automatically we have something to bond over also with Alex’s wife she has a massive family so we often talk about the drama and problems that come along with it” I say laughing.

"Last one. What celebrity have you had beef with?" I read laughing.

"Daniel Radcliffe" I say quickly.

"But it was when we were younger filming the Harry Potter movies. We didn't like each other for like the first 4 movies" I say laughing.

"Our characters were close in the movie but on set we hated each other, I don't know why and I don't think he does either, I guess our energies just clashed but when we got to order of the Phoenix and we talked it out before we started filming and have been best friends in person ever since" I say laughing and tipping the bucket over.

"That was my last question. I'm Yn Padalecki and this has been answering fan questions. Thank you for watching and I hope you got a laugh out of at least some of these questions or you learned something you never thought you would learn about me" I say smiling at the camera

#jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki x you #spn cast #supernatural cast x reader #sam winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins #alex calvert #Spn cast x reader #cast x reader #reader insert #supernatural #celeb!reader #famous!reader #actress!reader #celebrity!reader

638 notes · View notes

daleisgreat · 3 years ago

Text

30 Years of Super Nintendo - Flashback Special

The Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES) recently celebrated its 30th anniversary of the North American launch, so it seems the perfect time to post a Flashback Special honoring it! Suppose you have not perused a past Flashback Special of mine (all linked at the bottom of this entry). In that case, they are essentially my history with the platform over the years, with a little bit of history thrown in, and recounting all my favorite games, accessories, memories, and moments with the system.

Odds are for the average gaming enthusiast reading this, and you probably are familiar with the core details of the SNES launch stateside (if not, then I highly recommend CGQ’s video on it for a quick breakdown). The SNES launched in 1991 when I was eight. I did not have a subscription to any gaming magazines yet, so I most likely first found out about the system around that time from classmates at the time at school, the infamous Paul Rudd commercial, and the fourth season of Roseanne that transpired from 1991-92. I vividly remember the Roseanne episode with her son, DJ, pleading with his parents for the brand new SNES for his birthday gift and how his parents dreaded not being able to afford the system. I covered that episode when I did my Roseanne complete series re-watch here in the year leading up to the relaunch of the show several years ago. It brought back memories of how that was the story with my parents also denying me the much sought-after SNES, saying it cost too much and that I already have an NES to tide me over. ”But mommmmm, the SNES is 16-bits!!!!” Yeah….playing that angle got me nowhere. Kiosks & Friends The first couple of years for the SNES, I mostly remember playing at store kiosks. Super Mario World blew me away from the brief time I played it with it being such a leap from the NES installments. I always ate up the precious few minutes I could procure at a store kiosk if no one were playing Super Mario Kart. One last store kiosk memory was eye-gazing over the impressive WWF Royal Rumble. I loved WWF WrestleFest in the arcade, and for a couple of years, it was the only WWF game that offered up WWF’s marquee over-the-top rope elimination match, the Royal Rumble, and it was endlessly fun to play in the arcade. Fast-forward to playing it on console kiosks around its 1993 release, and I could not eat up enough of that game’s Royal Rumble mode either, and at the time, the graphics seemed like a huge step up from the wrestling games on NES. One of my favorite issues of Nintendo Power is the 50th issue that did a several-page spread on WWF Royal Rumble that I must have thoroughly re-read at least a dozen times.

I read this NP spread of WWF Royal Rumble many times, and it was one of my initially most desired SNES games! Around 1993/94, a couple of friends and classmates started to get the Super Nintendo. An early SNES memory that stuck with me all these years is my grade school friend, Jon-Paul, having me over for his birthday where he rented a SNES console and Street Fighter II: Turbo from the video store, and we played it for several hours straight. Another is spending a lot of 1994 at my neighborhood friend’s place, where we played countless sessions of NBA Jam and Mortal Kombat II. Both games were big on codes and secrets and perfect two-player games. I was just regularly getting into video game magazines at this time and ate up issues of Tips & Tricks, Game Players, and Electronic Gaming Monthly to see what kind of hidden character and other much-rumored codes were making the waves each month for both of these games. Mortal Kombat II especially dominated the code-fervor that season with trying to uncover how to face off against secret characters like Jade, Noob Saibot, and Smoke, and trying to memorize all the input sequences for the game’s infamous Fatalities. Fast forward to late 1995/early 1996, and I still did not have a SNES, but a new neighborhood friend, Rich, just got one and the next several months at his place introduced me to so many SNES games. Rich kind of got me somewhat into RPGs at the time, and while it may not sound fun on paper, there were many times I recall just kind of embracing the role of “armchair gamer.” I did this for games like EVO: Search for Eden, and Eye of the Beholder while keeping an eye out during gameplay to offer whatever suggestions seemed viable.

FFVI was eye-opening to me at the time of what video game narratives were capable of, and I devoured the latest secrets for FFVI discovered in the latest issue of my Game Players subscription that was delivered. The RPG I felt like that I contributed something to was the game that was originally released as Final Fantasy III. That game featured two-player support for battles only, so it was refreshing to help Rich with progressing through the game finally. My two favorite characters to use were Sabin and Cyan. That game especially blew me away with its larger-than-life story with two different game worlds, the momentous opera scene with Celes, the dazzling mode-seven graphics when traveling via airship or Chocobo, constantly getting irked at Shadow whenever he deserted the party, and so many other priceless moments. Over the years, I tried restarting the GBA version on a couple of occasions and regrettably have yet to finish it. Finally Owning a SNES….in 1996

Growing up with divorced parents put me in a unique childhood when it came to gaming. I lived with my mom, who provided for us as best as possible for the three siblings I grew up with, so we only had an NES for us for the longest time. However, when visiting my dad on weekends, he would always be big on hitting up as many garage sales and second-hand stores as possible and would acquire whatever he thought seemed like a bargain. Games-wise, this usually meant he lagged behind a generation because everyone was offloading their Atari VCS/2600s at garage sales for cheap when the NES was king, so I could have a great couple of years to become familiar with the pioneering-era of games on Atari. He then got into the NES scene when the SNES hit in 1991. Sure enough, the same month the N64 launched in America in September 1996 was when he bought a Super Nintendo for the family used at our local Premiere Video. The game we picked up with it was Street Fighter II: Turbo. My dad instantly remarked upon booting it up the noticeable jump in graphics. We played nothing but Capcom’s second Street Fighter game on SNES for a few weekends. I could only finish that game by button mashing into a victory against the final boss, M. Bison, once….with M. Bison. I still have a lot of love for this era of Street Fighter - whether it be for the roster, every character’s stage and theme music, and receiving Nintendo Power’s strategy guide for the game for Christmas and studying it regularly to improve.

After a few weeks, we realized we needed something else than a fighting game, and after another trip to Premiere Video, we came home with Super Mario All-Stars. It felt like the easy choice to go with 16-bit remakes of all four 8-bit versions of the core Mario Bros. games. Every game felt like a whole different game with all-new graphics and sound, and more importantly, being able to save progress midgame. This was a bigger hit with the entire family, and it provided many days of taking turns in its alternating two-player mode to see who could get the farthest in the four Mario games included.

youtube

Make sure to have some tissues by your side as you witness FFIII/VI's infamous "opera" scene. Seriously, this was mind-blowing stuff to 13-year old Dale in 1996. 16-bit Sportsball Fun

After playing a lot of those first two SNES games, I went into this stretch for the next several years, where most of what I played was sports and wrestling games. I attribute this to many multiplayer sessions with Rich, my brother, Joe, and my dad. I know my dad was not all that into sports other than a passing interest in rooting on hometown Minnesota pro-sports teams. Still, I have to give him credit for spending as much time with us and taking the time to learn and become a pretty solid player at teaming up with me in many sports games. It is worth noting that I feel the 16-bit era is probably the last-gen where most of its library of sports games had a relatively simple pick-up-and-play feel that NES games had. That changed a little bit in the final SNES years, where it was usually EA’s games that started to incorporate more realism in their sports games and make use of most of the buttons of the SNES controller. For football, Madden NFL ‘97 was the one I played the most. I played plenty of the Genesis version at Rich's place, so much so that I noticed too many little differences with the SNES version to make it stand out on its own. For 16-bit sports nuts that want to know, the Genesis version had the better playing version, but the SNES had a better overall presentation and more popping audio and visuals. I was part of a small slice of sports gamers big into NES Play Action Football, and the 16-bit version played almost exactly like the NES version, but with a 16-bit upgrade and also has a nifty feature to play games at the high school, college, or NFL level.

NBA Jam and NBA Hangtime dominated my 16-bit sports lineup. The code scene for these games were so intense at the time I had to keep my own binder of notes on them all that I still have today as seen above! As I alluded to earlier, when it came to hoops, I played way too much NBA Jam the first year it was out at my friend’s place. However, the arcade hoops game I played the most on SNES was NBA Hangtime, which was developed by the same people who made Jam. I got that game new for Christmas in 1996 and must have played it regularly with Rich for nearly a year straight. I do not hear that game receive the same level of praise as Jam, but it added a few new fun layers to freshen up the gameplay, like being able to do co-op dunks and earn “Team Fire,” and being able to create players. For more simulation-focused hoops, I played a lot of NBA Live ’96 with my dad, in addition to Nintendo’s NCAA Basketball which appeared like a technical marvel to me that was ahead of its time with the mode-seven camera allowing constant 3D rotation whenever possession of the ball changed and foreshadowed what would become the go-to camera perspective for the next-gen of basketball games. Finally, I will cherish my time with Bill Laimbeer’s Combat Basketball for it being the only hoops game I ever had to consult a guide to figure out how to shoot the damn ball….and for its surprisingly rocking soundtrack. Find out all about it when I broke that game down with the Your Parents Basement crew on their penultimate podcast.

Nintendo incorporated the same camera style into its hockey game, NHL Stanley Cup. Its graphics also impressed me, but it was rather challenging to score a goal, and I did not have as much fun with it. I played EA’s hockey games more on Genesis than SNES, but EA’s baseball game, MLBPA Baseball, was the hardball game I spent the most time with on Super Nintendo. Many years later, I picked up Nintendo’s Ken Griffey Jr. Presents: Major League Baseball, and had some fun with it, but already played the Game Boy version of it to death by the time I picked up the SNES version, and thus did not invest as much time with it as I did with EA’s game. Wanna Wrassle!?

I must have read through this review of WWF RAW countless times in my youth, and seeing how this essentially is a bigger and better version of Royal Rumble only increased my desire to one day own a SNES! The North American wrestling library was a significant step up from the bottom of the stairwell where most of the NES games hung out….but on the SNES, it only made it roughly halfway up the stairs. The aforementioned WWF Royal Rumble provided many hours of fun for its day, but it has not stood the test of time with the button-mashing grapple meter it featured that will obliterate thumbs on the normal difficulty level! Its sequel, WWF RAW, was noteworthy for having more match types available and being one of the first games to have a selectable female wrestler in Luna Vachon, but it too used that same ill-fated grapple meter that has not aged well. WWF Wrestlemania: The Arcade Game is a fun little hybrid of Mortal Kombat and wrestling, but the SNES version is notorious for lacking two wrestlers compared to all other home versions.

For non-WWF games, WCW SuperBrawl Wrestling is rather unremarkable….except for its exceptional wrestler select screen.There were a few interesting unlicensed wrestling games in America. Natsume Championship Wrestling featured a solid wrestling engine but removed/altered the AJPW wrestlers from the Japanese version of the game. Hammerlock had a promising concept of having part of the screen dedicated to nonstop Tecmo-esque cinematics. In contrast, the other half of the screen featured 2D gameplay, but the cameras constantly flipped on screen, to which half was dedicated to cinematics or gameplay. It resulted in it being a jarring mess. Saturday Night Slam Masters is no such mess, however, and is a better hybrid of fighting game meets wrestling game, with this one done by Capcom. It features larger-than-life character sprites, full-on ring entrances with laser lights, and is a fun-playing combination of wrestling and Street Fighter. To top it off, Slam Masters has Final Fight’s Mike Haggar on the roster to boot!

youtube

Joey Pink does a fine job detailing why Capcom's "Street Fighter" in a wrestling ring should not be missed! Ensuring RPGs are here to Stay Aside from watching Rich play some of the RPGs I listed above, and of course, playing Final Fantasy VI with him, I did get a chance to play a few other RPGs on the SNES over the years, and it was not until the last few years that I finally finished a couple of them. In the late 1990s I first started two RPGs that stood out to me at the time because they broke out of the medieval fantasy mold most other RPGs at the time took place in. Shadowrun on the SNES was drastically different from the Genesis version I first encountered at Rich’s. This one still had the same futuristic cyberpunk world setting and terminology, but there were many more dialog options with NPCs that were pivotal in asking the right questions to progress the story. Additionally, the hacking games played out differently and had more of a puzzle theme to them than the action-oriented ones in the Genesis version, and the combat had kind a PC interface where a cursor had to be dragged across the screen on which target to aim at. I still wound up being totally into it and became stuck in the back half of the game before my save data became corrupted. I thought that would end my days with Shadowrun…

SNES Shadowrun remains one of my all-time favorite RPGs as of this writing! The final gauntlet tower was an ordeal and a half to work through, only to face off against a dragon as the final boss! …until nearly two decades later in 2016. I mentioned on past flashback specials how I occasionally guest host on the Your Parents Basement podcast, where they cover a random retro game per episode. In 2016 they asked me if there were any games I had in mind to cover, and Shadowrun felt like worth revisiting and possibly knocking off the “must beat this game” bucket list. I progressed until about a little over halfway through by the time we all met to record and broke down the game, but by that point, I just started to make further progress than my last effort and was determined to see this one through! I was playing on actual SNES hardware and was surprised that the battery still held a save but ran into trouble in the final tower with a gauntlet of enemies on each floor to overcome before the final boss. I looked up a walkthrough and discovered an exploit to grind experience to beef up my character. Eventually, I managed to persevere and finally conquer the final boss, a fire-breathing dragon, to cross finishing Shadowrun off my bucket list! I had a riot podcasting with the YPB crew about it too, so please click or press here to give it a listen if you want to know more about this under-the-radar 16-bit RPG.

Fast forward three years later in 2019, and the awesome YPB hosts of Steve, Huell, and Todd helped me once again restart and finish another SNES RPG that I came close to finishing in the late 1990s before evil corrupt save data reared its ugly head again. This time the game of choice is the uber-expensive Earthbound. Like Shadowrun, that game stood out to me because its setting went against the grain of fantasy settings and instead took place in modern times as grade school kids. The opening levels felt like getting lost in your neighborhood and using childlike items as weapons like Yo-Yos and baseball bats. I do not own that ridiculously expensive game, but by 2019 I did own a SNES Mini (more on that in a bit) that I made sure to abuse the save state and the rewind functions it provided to overcome some troubling bosses in the back half of the game. That final act of the game certainly goes places with its sci-fi twists and feels like an entirely different game, but I still loved it all the same! It felt exhilarating to finally knock this one off my “to do” list as well, and I had just as much fun dissecting it to pieces with the YPB crew that you can check out by click or pressing here. Unfortunately, this is where my extensive hands-on time with SNES RPGs comes to an end. I played a lot of FFIII/VI, and finished Earthbound, and Shadowrun. Sure, I dabbled in several other games but did not put more than an hour or two into them. One of those games is the much-heralded, Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, and I have no excuse for never sticking with it because I loved the NES original. It was the GBA re-release I played, and I think I was spreading myself thin while playing and reviewing too many games simultaneously. Lufia and Breath of Fire II were another pair of RPGs I put a couple of hours into that both left me with promising first impressions, but there was a whole other reason why I did not go back to those again, and that is because then I was waist-deep at the time in….. Discovering Emulation Right around the time my family acquired its first computer in the fall of 1997 was when I found out about emulation. It seemed way too good to be true to easily download and play games right on the computer, especially when factoring in the SNES was at the tail end of its lifecycle, and there were still new games releasing for it. As an unemployed 9th grader at the time, I sampled countless 8- and 16-bit ROMs with the SNES games I was the most curious about. A few of the RPGs in the previous paragraph being prime examples of the ones I invested the most time into. It proved to be overwhelming with so many choices, but I took a long sabbatical after a year or so of taking in the emulation scene after the family computer crashed and I lost all the save data I had amassed in so many games.

It has been interesting to see how emulation has evolved over the years from programs like SNES9X and Retroarch to being incorporated into machines like the MISTer, RetroPi, and Retron 5. Nintendo has learned to embrace official, legal emulation over the years with purchasable digital classic games on systems such as the Wii, WiiU, and 3DS. Having a stable income as an adult now many years later, I feel guilty for embracing the emulation scene so hard in my teenage years, so much so that whenever Nintendo re-releases one of its classic hits several times over, I choose to purchase it again (well…usually at a sale price) to redeem myself. Keeping SNES Alive Today

Over the years, I find myself diving into retro games versus the latest and greatest coming out. I am a fan of the various SNES hardware updates/clones, both officially from Nintendo and unofficially from other companies, which has kept my SNES and other retro game fandom blood flowing over the decades. I am unsure if it feels right to lump it in here, but the Super Game Boy lead to me getting a lot of extra life out of my SNES. Playing Game Boy games on the big screen was a big deal to me back then, considering it was always a pain to make out what was happening on the non-backlit handheld. For some reason, those special border screens that would eventually have funny animations after being left idle for so long made an impression on me. Game Boy games with the “Super Game Boy Enhanced” logo on the front of the box usually have their own exclusive border and special color palette. I loved the Mole Mania and Donkey Kong Land borders the most! I thought it was rad that around 15-20 special enhanced Super Game Boy titles featured multiplayer support with two SNES controllers. They consisted almost entirely of Bomberman and fighting games, but it was still a cool feature nonetheless. The handheld Hyperkin SupaBoy is the unauthorized SNES take on the Sega Nomad by having a portable SNES. It is a bit on the bulky side, but it has a rechargeable battery, and its support has been flawless with my entire SNES library. Another Hyperkin product I got a lot of use out of is the Retron 5. I know that particular clone system is controversial with retro game enthusiasts based on the unauthorized emulators it implements. However, the user interface and emulation support made it possible for me to make record progress in many SNES games by taking advantage of save states and its optional Game Genie-esque cheats library. The SNES Classic Edition is an excellent official piece of hardware from Nintendo that has the pint-sized SNES pre-installed with 21 SNES games, one of which is previously unreleased Star Fox 2. It has an adorably intuitive interface and supports game rewinding and save states, which made it the way I was finally able to finish Earthbound. It was also surprisingly not-so-difficult to plug into a PC and import a bunch of SNES ROMs into. Other companies like 8bitdo made that system extra convenient by making their recommended wireless controllers compatible with it!

If you did not grow up with the SNES, then both of these options are great entry points for those looking to move on beyond emulators. The Analogue Super NT may have been pushing it too much price-wise. When it comes down to the nuts and bolts of emulation tech, I am not a wizard by any means, except that by all sources, it sounds like the Super NT offers the best hardware emulation with its FPGA technology. It makes SNES games appear as pristine as possible on an HD/4KTV without any or as minimal of the fuzziness that happens whenever I try plugging in the composite/RCA cables from a base SNES system into a 4K/HDTV. For those unfamiliar with the Super NT, this video from the My Life in Gaming crew does a thorough dissection of everything it has to offer. The list of options in there is intimidating to mess around with, but this sounds like the way to go if one wants to keep playing their cartridges……although I have to admit I am pretty satisfied currently with the Retron 5 and SNES Classic Edition.

Odds are some of you are quite a bit younger than me and grew up post-SNES lifecycle. Not interested in going down the pricey road of hunting down old cartridges and hardware, and do not want to dabble on the dark side of illegal emulation? Then a terrific alternative is if you have a Switch with Nintendo’s $20/year online service membership and taking advantage of the Nintendo Switch Online and Super Nintendo Switch Online digital game portals. It has unlimited access to the slate of games on there, along with save points as long as your membership remains active. The implementation of save states and the user interface has also improved noticeably over the emulation used for NES & SNES Classic Editions. More importantly, it adds the feature to play online with a friend. Last year I played online SNES games with my nephew, who was wrapping up 6th grade at the time, and this was his first time playing SNES games. He loves Mario Kart 8 on Switch, and so when the first game we played was the original Super Mario Kart, I could not help but crack up when he instantly remarked, “Dale, this looks old!” He eventually came around, and then we had some fun playing co-op , Joe & Mac . A couple of years ago, on my Genesis Flashback Special, I made sure to reminisce of my fond memories of the summer I spent playing nonstop Sega Channel. These NES/SNES Switch portals are essentially the Sega Channel, but far better because it does not cost $15 a month (in 1994 dollars which equals $27.63 today per Google), offers multiple save states, and ability to play online for only $20 a year!!! Kids, get your parents to hook you up now!!! Miscellaneous Quick Hits

SNES games were the most common denominator on six of the 13 episodes I guest hosted on the retro game podcast, Your Parents Basement. Check out their full archives by click or pressing here. -Turns out I did quite a few guest hosting spots on Your Parents Basement Podcast for SNES games. For those that are podcasting fiends and dug the three episodes I linked to already, then I will link you to three more SNES themed episodes I appeared on where I breathed in the Mode 7 skies of Pilotwings, embraced Capcom’s action-platformer prowess in X-Men: Mutant Apocalypse, and made sure not to miss any Gatorade and Wheaties health pick-ups in Michael Jordan: Chaos in the Windy City.

-The SNES controller is my favorite pre-disc console era controller. It kept the similar button layout of the NES controller but rounded off the edges into its iconic “dog bone” feel so the controller no longer cramped in your hands! Throw in the two extra face buttons and two additional shoulder buttons, and it opened up all kinds of deeper gameplay possibilities! It made it perfect for most fighting games that used almost all the face and shoulder buttons. I found the shoulder buttons were also smartly implemented in NBA Jam/Hangtime for being assigned to use for turbo speed functionality. As far as other SNES controllers/peripherals go, since I loved the NES Zapper, I always wanted to try the Super Scope, but as a kiddo, its bazooka-sized proportions were kind of intimidating. It still kind of bums me out all these years I never got to experience it with epics like Yoshi’s Safari, T2: The Arcade Game, and Tin Star. I never had an opportunity to use the SNES mouse either, which I kind of regret all these years later after seeing all the marvelous creations from experts at Mario Paint, and it was cool to see some PC ports like Civilization, Doom, and Wolfenstein 3D take advantage of SNES Mouse compatibility.

-The 16-bit era was when fighting games exploded, and as you can tell above, I spent a lot of time with Street Fighter II: Turbo, and the first two Mortal Kombat games. Other than that, though, the only other fighting game on SNES I put significant time into was TMNT Tournament Fighters. It was released at the tail end of the TMNT-mania when the cartoon peaked at its popularity. The game itself was a surprisingly competent licensed fighting game from Konami, and tried its best to feel like a solid Street Fighter-clone. Speaking of them pesky turtles… -…TMNT IV: Turtles in Time was the only beat-em-up brawler I put considerable time into on the SNES. I have vague memories of trying others out once or twice like The Peace Keepers, and Super Double Dragon, but Turtles in Time was the one I frequently revisited over the years. It is a superb rendition of the arcade game, with SNES-exclusive levels like the Technodrome that had a fantastic first-person boss fight against Shredder, where lowly Foot Soldiers had to be chucked right at him to defeat Shredder. The soundtrack is one of my favorite SNES scores, so much so that I went all-in to get the for it! I have so many great memories of this game, with the highlight being my friend Matt and I revisiting this for complete runs of it once every year or two for about a dozen years.

youtube

Turtles in Time and FFIII/VI are my favorite SNES soundtracks, but Turtles in Time I own on vinyl so I will embed it here in all its glory for you to enjoy as well!

-The SNES library had a quality slate of racing games. Super Mario Kart quickly rose to the top of the ranks and was always fun to bust through a GP with a friend. Street Racer was one of the first kart-clones to hit in 1994, and for some reason, that one always stuck with me. As did it being one of the few games to have four-player split-screen support with all four screens being horizontal! Rock ‘n Roll Racing is another killer arcade racer on SNES; think of a more beefed up RC Pro-AM, but with a good dose of heavy metal mixed in. This past year saw it re-released as part of the Blizzard Arcade Collection for everyone to experience it! I remember trying out F-Zero at a store kiosk around SNES launch, but was too young at eight years old at the time to fully grasp its style of futuristic racing (or that the name was a riff on F1 racing until a couple of years ago). I was more into a game similar to its style that was the trilogy of Top Gear titles. Uniracers was a quirky racer I enjoyed with its unique aesthetic and one-wheeled racers taking advantage of their nature in races filled with jumps and loop-de-loops….too bad about Pixar holding a grudge against Nintendo and legally forcing them to yank it off shelves. Nintendo’s other racer, Stunt Race FX, was ahead of its time with the polygonal FX-based graphics running pretty chunky on the SNES. Still, it is a commendable piece of 16-bit tech they were just barely able to keep running at a passable-enough framerate. Another FX-chip game that did not originally gel with me was…

-…the original Star Fox. Being 10 when it released in 1993, I thought those polygonal graphics looked blocky and horrendous and would have none of it! Many years later, I would revisit it and rightfully come around on it! -Another Nintendo-published game that received a lot of hype was Donkey Kong Country with its cutting-edge 3D models. They were plastered all over gaming mags at the time. I briefly recall trying out the first and second of the three Donkey Kong Country games on SNES. However, I did not put more time into them because I beat Donkey Kong Land on Game Boy before our family got a SNES, which was just a watered-down port with some remixed levels for the handheld. I enjoyed my time with it, but its disappointingly blunt “congratulations” ending left a bad impression on me, and I never felt like giving the other entries a serious go all these years.

-Some may be wondering why there has yet not been anything dedicated to the pair of Super Mario World titles and Super Mario RPG? Super Mario World was probably one of the first SNES games I tried when I visited my older brother at his first apartment in the early 90s. I think the heavy-duty graphics and trying to comprehend attacking with Yoshi proved to be too much for eight or nine-year-old me at the time. I played it a few other times in my 20s, hanging out with coworkers on retro game nights, and had fun with it, but I think since I was exposed to the NES trilogy more and played the hell out of All-Stars, that those were the versions I preferred more. I appreciated how Nintendo stepped up to Sega’s edgier marketing at the time with Nintendo’s “Play it Loud” marketing campaign. Unfortunately, I think their ad for Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island was a bit too extreme for 12-year old Dale at the time. That ad (click here for it if you are feeling daring)was forever planted in my subconscious and always crossed my mind and indirectly caused me to avoid Yoshi’s Island for all these years. I did pick up Super Mario RPG and it is on my “bucket list” of games to play as well. I am holding off on it all these years because I was hanging out with Matt one day, and he explained how he was having a tough time with the final boss, Smithy. Well, he wanted to give me a quick demo to show how unforgiving of a challenge the boss was….but for some reason his clutch gaming skills kicked in right then, and he beat Smithy and was exposed to the ending right then and there!

-As far as other tough SNES games go, the two most challenging for me are easily Contra III: The Alien Wars and Zombie Ate My Neighbors. Contra III is like the first two games on steroids. I love the boss battles and intense walk-n-shoot chaos, but do not love constantly dying in one shot! Zombies Ate My Neighbors is another fun action-platformer that is also equally tough to make it farther than a few levels in unless you seriously dedicate yourself to it. Hey, both of these games also saw re-releases this past year on current consoles with the Contra Anniversary Collection and Zombies Ate My Neighbors & Ghoul Patrol set for those wanting to experience 16-bit nail-biting difficulty (but with save state support!).

youtube

I hope this excellent video review from the quintessential retro video game source, Jeremy Parish, suffices for my lack of any meaningful Super Mario World memories here. -In 1997, I was hyped for a late SNES release, the original Harvest Moon. The farm/life/dating-sim series is still around today from publisher Natsume (as well as the original developers parting ways with Natsume and delivering their own competing Story of Seasons series). During the SNES era, I spent several summers out on a farm. I appreciated rural life's solitude and free spirit lifestyle, and that first Harvest Moon game perfectly encapsulated that. Trying to determine the best way to spend the day tending to the fields, livestock and managing a social/family life was surprisingly fun and engaging! Harvest Moon remain one of two games that I submitted a blurry Polaroid photo to Nintendo Power’s “Arena” high score section. I cannot recall if my score got posted or not.

-The original Sim City port on SNES received a lot of love around the SNES launch window, with Nintendo giving it a unique makeover with bonus Nintendo characters in it and an exclusive tutor in the form of Dr. Wright to ease everyone into the simulation gameplay. I never played too much of that version, but one night at Rich’s, the game we decided to rent that night was Sim City 2000. That one was released way late into the SNES lifecycle and lacked any Nintendo extras the first SNES game had. Still, we stayed up all night playing it and looking at our daily news recap and mayor approval ratings and trying to figure out where to stop underwater pipe blockages! It ran slowwww on the SNES, but we tolerated it fine enough at the time because I had yet to play the PC version. Eventually, I would check out the PC version and came away surprised with so much I had to put up within the SNES game. -For those wanting to dare the Super Famicom scene, there are a plethora of great games that never made their way stateside, and better yet, a hearty chunk of them have received English fan translations. I am partial to the FirePro wrestling games that never made it here that are vastly superior to all the American wrestling games I broke down above, BS Out of Bounds Golf is an addicting take on miniature golf, the original Star Ocean, and the Back to the Future platformer that was not a five-star classic by any means, but blew away the poor NES and Genesis games that did release here. If you are not that familiar with the Super Famicom library, this top 50 list from RVG Fanatic is a great place to start your research and very much helped clueing me into a bunch of Super Famicom games I had little-to-no knowledge of. Conclusion

If you are around my age reading this, you may be wondering why I have not gone on about the fabled “16-bit Wars” by now. Rest assured, I experienced it in the lunchroom and at recess and in gaming magazines at the time. I devoured all the side-by-side screenshots in gaming mags of dual-platform releases to see if I could spot which version was better. I want to say back then, I sided with the SNES because I grew up with the NES, but that does not seem like a fair choice since I did not own a SNES until 1996. Reflecting on it, although I experienced a fair amount of RPGs and other games on SNES with Rich, I primarily played endless hours of Genesis games with him back at the time. So whenever I hung out with Rich, I considered myself a Genesis fan, and when I finally got a SNES and grew my SNES library, I considered myself a SNES fan and avoided a lot of the “console wars” trash talk. For younger readers here who want to learn more about the fervor of the 16-bit wars, the book, Console Wars, and its corresponding documentary (which is currently only available on Paramount+/CBS All Access sadly) are my recommended ways to absorb all that hoopla. I will cherish all of the past 30 years of SNES memories and hope you have enjoyed reminiscing with me for the last several thousand words. If you want to hear more of my SNES memories in podcast form, I have a few SNES-centric episodes of my old podcast I recently un-vaulted and have embedded below for your pleasure. They have some of the friends I repeatedly mentioned above as co-hosts that share their SNES experiences and memories, so please load up a random SNES “podcast game” and boot one of these podcasts up for fitting background noise….

youtube

10 years ago I did a 20th anniversary SNES special with Matt!

youtube

Here is the history of RPG series episode dedicated to the 16-bit era.

youtube

Finally, here is Matt and I hosting the 16-bit installment of our history of comic book games series. Bonus Overtime

It would not be a Flashback Special without one random oddball bonus story to wrap it up with. The only Kirby game I ever finished receives that honor. One day, my brother and his friend Jake were over at my place. We were discussing SNES games at some point, and Jake mentioned how Kirby Super Star is his all-time favorite. I said how I never played it and did not think anything of it at the time, but the next time I met up with him and my brother, Jake had the copy of that game with him and insisted on borrowing it to me and said not to give it back until I finished it. I felt this sudden obligation to play through it as a priority, so I did not feel like I was keeping his game hostage. Luckily, Kirby Super Star is a damn fun game, which the front of the box labels as “8 Games in One!” Most of the games are abbreviated-length adventures of only a handful of missions in their unique theme of levels, and a few of the games are mini-games like a race against King DeDeDe. Regardless, almost every game provided that trademark Kirby lighthearted fun and was hard to put down! Kirby’s Dream Course is also a lot of fun on SNES, and is an interesting take of Kirby meets miniature golf! With that anecdote, I will wrap up yet another Flashback Special. Thank you for sticking with me this far, and If you dug reading about my trials and tribulations with Nintendo’s 16-bit machine, please take a look at the other Flashbacks I have linked below!

My Other Gaming Flashbacks Dreamcast 20th Anniversary GameBoy 30th Anniversary Genesis 30th Anniversary NES 35th Anniversary PSone 25th Anniversary PS2 20th Anniversary PSP 15th Anniversary and Neo-Geo 30th Anniversary Saturn and Virtual Boy 25th Anniversaries TurboGrafX-16 30th and 32-X 25th Anniversaries Xbox 360 15th Anniversary

10 notes · View notes

m-alcn · 6 years ago

Text

And yet again, her classmates are somehow buying into that little liar’s big, fat, unrealistic lies. Why was Adrien going along with this he was there when she exposed her as Ladybug!

Granted she could have maybe got her point across even more if she weren’t yelling, but she hated lies. And there was no way she would stand for more of them!

“—My tympanum ruptured because of the sound of an airplane motor that was in the runway when I saved Jagged Stone’s kitten.”

Marinette sighed, arms crossed, exasperated that she was the only one in her class that was using her brain. “Jagged Stone has a crocodile.” But even as she was saying that, the beginnings of an idea were forming in the back of her head, carefully weaving together into a plan. Just like always.

She had to fight hard to keep the triumphant smirk off her face, though some of it showed.

“That’s now. He had a kitten before, until he found out he was allergic,” Lila said, innocent as you please, conniving little thing with a lie for everything.

But Marinette wasn’t going to let her get away with it this time.

So with wide innocent eyes, she layered sugary sweet layers into her voice. “That’s a super story Lila!”

Lila paused, narrowing her eyes at her a little. “It is?”

“Oh yes,” Marinette said, opening her eyes even wider, just like when she played Chloé during their last movie. As she made herself look as unassuming as ever, she retrieved her phone from her bag and unlocked it, dialing a number that still made her internally squeal even now. “I want to make sure I have the story in its absolute details. But I just have to do one thing first,” she held up her index as the dial tone finally ended.

“Salut!” Marinette cheered into the phone, her classmates looking at each other confused, Lila only narrowing her eyes even more. “Oh I know it’s been ages! I hope they aren’t working you too hard from last time. That’s great! You deserve the break,” as she kept talking she maintained her cheery façade as she made eye contact with Lila. “Yes! That’s exactly who I needed to talk to! Thank you so much!”

Everyone remained confused, exchanging wary looks, not daring to interrupt, even though their Class President was really not being herself.

Alya stared at her, convinced she’d lost her mind, sharing a look with Nino who only shrugged. Big help there, you big lug.

“Hello! Yes, well I… no… that’s… well it’s great to hear you too!” she was finally able to get a word in edgewise, but she had to watch what she said now. “You did? You are? That’s fantastic! You want me to do that again!” here Marinette had to stop herself from really squealing, but she had to stick to the plan. “I’ll be delighted! Like that last CD was a dream come true!”

Alya looked at Marinette with slowly dawning realization, finally having a bit of an idea as to what she was doing.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry to bother you like this but I just wanted to check with you, I know how harassed you get so I needed to make sure of some rumors. Can I put you on speaker phone? That’s great! But please wait until I introduce you, I have someone here who’s just dying to hear you! Thank you so much, you definitely rock! Yes, I meant that one,” she laughed as he always had the ability to cheer her up.

As she put it on speaker, Marinette injected even more cheer into her face, making her voice as kind as possible. “So Lila, mind repeating that wonderful story, I have someone who just can’t wait to hear it.”

Lila looked at her warily, feeling trapped and cornered though not sure how. She was the one who could spin lies into silk, so why was she feeling tangled. She should proceed with caution. “Why?”

“Everyone needs to know how much of a hero you are!” Marinette spread her arms, smile starting to hurt as she pressed her teeth together.

“I don’t want to spread that around.”

“Then why did you tell it to the class?” Marinette pouted, the picture of innocent confusion.

“Well they’re my friends,” Lila smiled back at her sweetly, “you tell your friends these things.”

“But you were new and you were still telling them when they were strangers,” Marinette had to work hard not to show her anger, even one bit. But oh was she good. In a very bad way. “Well Alya, why don’t you tell us her act of bravery. You’re a reporter, you love reporting don’t you?” she blinked big blue eyes at her friend, who inched a bit away from her, because somehow that overload of sweetness felt way more dangerous than any anger.

But Alya was curious now, after all that story would be newsworthy, she should have probably seen it. And the way Lila was now avoiding telling her stories was a bit suspect.

“One Mlle. Lila Rossi saved Jagged Stone’s kitten at an airport,” Alya kept her eyes on Lila now, her best friend usually had good instincts and while she overreacted a lot, it wouldn’t make sense for her to be jealous given the whole thing with Kagami.

“WHAT!” the very familiar – even over the phone – voice of Jagged Stone was very loud in the relatively thick silence of the classroom, startling everyone but Marinette who was expecting it, she took an almost inappropriate amount of pleasure seeing Lila blanch . “Cat? What cat? Penny did I have cat?”

“No Jagged.”

“Why would I ever betray my precious Fang!”

“Oh I never implied that. I know how much you love that sweetie,” Marinette interjected, because she really did like Fang and to not accidently hurt the feelings of her favorite singer. “Apparently you had a kitten before you had Fang, but you don’t anymore because you’re allergic. That’s too bad, cats can be cute.”

“I never ever heard of this girl. What was it Liar—”

“Lila,” Marinette, barely suppressing her smile, corrected before Lila could, though she could see her fuming as the class turned their skeptical eyes on her.

“Don’t know any. Plus, I don’t have allergies, I just don’t like those little furballs. They completely destroy my rock and roll vibe, you know how it is. You understand my vibe completely Marinette,” Jagged sounded proud, like a favorite uncle and while it was a bit embarrassing, it was also wholly satisfying to see Lila turn red and almost purple.

Ugh she was getting akumatized again wasn’t she.

“Anyway, Marinette my favorite collégienne, when can you design an outfit for me. Or a new CD cover. The last one you did was really rock and roll and completely Jagged Approved. I got it, both! What do you say?”

Marinette felt a very real smile spread across her face as Lila’s jaw dropped. “I would be honored. If you send me your ideas and opinions on the outfit and a deadline, I think I could start work on it today.”

“You rock and roll, my talented little designer! If you need anything just, gimme me a call. But I gotta roll.”

“FANG! FANG! NOT THE COUCH!” there was a crash that accompanied Penny’s scream, evidently done relaxing for today.

“Awwww, Fang, who’s a good boy! Who’s a goo—”

And on that wonderful note the line cut off, leaving everyone staring at the phone like it grew legs and crawled out of the room.

Marinette just shrugged it off. It was just Jagged being Jagged. And Penny not relaxing like she should.

“It’s weird that he doesn’t know you,” Marinette continued to play dumb, as everyone turned to look at Lila.

“Why did you do that Marinette?” Alya asked.

“I was there when his stalker fan turned into an akuma and attacked him. I don’t think he likes that or rumors spread about him.”

Immediately feeling the weighty stares, Lila refused to look at them but fixed her eyes on that Marinette. “Why would you hire someone to make me look bad? What did I ever do to you?” she made sure to sound sad and pitiful, but it wasn’t having much impact on anyone.

Marinette grit her teeth, but took a deep breath to keep calm. “How would I know the reason you would tell us you lost your hearing?”

“You must have done it because you’re jealous he wrote a song about me and not you.” She was grasping at straws, but she would not go down because of her.

He did write a song about me, as Ladybug, but go off I guess.

Everyone was scowling at Lila now, except for Chloé who looked to be enjoying herself way too much.

“I don’t think we really believe you Lila,” Marinette said, keeping her tone calm and even, waiting for the storm.

“I think you’re the one actually lying. You, designed his CD? There’s no way that’s possible.” She pointed her finger at Marinette.

“She also did his Tour Eiffel glasses,” Alya finally came to her friend’s defense, narrowing her eyes.

But Lila just huffed. She was the one who made lies about knowing celebrities, not that nobody.

“You should read Metal Lourd magazine Lila. There was an article. He’s even been to my house.” Marinette crossed her arms, able to breathe again but getting bored with this nonsense.

“Pfft. Right.” Lila scoffed.

“It was on TV. You could look for the episode if you want.”

“Like you’re any good at designing.”

“Well my mère, Audrey Bourgeois, the famous fashion critic, complemented her on her designs,” Chloé interrupted, happy to use that painful memory to drag someone now; it would put that bitch in her place.

Marinette stared at her in disbelief. But it looked like she might hate Lila more than she hated her. Well united against a common enemy as civilians was a bit new. She needed time to wrap her head around that.

With a final breath, she headed to the back row, sitting down. “I wonder if she lied about that, what else she lied about. Hey Alya?”

“Yeah?” Alya wasn’t so sure how to take her best friend sitting in the back now. And she sent her there without even asking. She needed to apologize. Hopefully she would forgive her. But for now she never looked away from Lila, as though if she took her eyes off her she would find more tricks to play.

“Didn’t you tell me she was Volpina?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe she lied about knowing Ladybug. You should probably ask her.” She was so going to patrol near Alya’s house later.

“You know what, I think I will,” Alya said, arms crossed as Lila slowly began backing out of the classroom.

Note: look what i wrote because i'm still so salty. This is my first ML fic so i dont know about characterization. And if you're wondering why Adrien isnt there he's such a doormat that he might as well not be. I could try to post this on ao3 if anyone wants

@lnc2 @purrincess-chat @simplystefanie-rae @spottedcutie @sidsinning @nobodyfamousposts

@greninjastorm

else wants to be tagged for this salt

#ml salt #mlb salt #ml spoilers #ml season 3 #ml season 3 spoilers #my posts #my fic #ml salt fic

735 notes · View notes

cryptofmadness · 7 years ago

Photo

The 2017 New York Comic-Con MAD magazine panel round-up.

By Ian Scott McGregor As always, Angelo Torres was early. The morning of the New York Comic Con MAD panel, Ange called to tell me he was waiting at the subway entrance. I slapped on a vintage MAD cap, and ran downstairs to find him dressed nattily in a navy blazer. We were off. On the train into the city, we marveled at the characters boarding at each stop: “Who’s that?” “I think he’s from Game of Thrones.” “I don’t watch it.” “Me neither. “Wonder Woman. And another Wonder Woman.” Once inside the strobing, cacophonous Javits Center, we picked up our passes and were told to activate them online. I pulled out my smartphone and Ange lifted an eyebrow. “What happens if you don’t have a smartphone?” “Don’t worry about it - we are activated!” After passing through security, we waded into the throngs of the convention crowd. Teeming masses of cosplay from every walk of pop-culture swarmed the convention floor and everyone took pictures of everything. “Look at all these nerds!” “Are you sure these aren’t geeks?” “It’s the dorks you have to watch out for…” “There’s Wendy Williams as Wonder Woman.” We wandered into the packed main floor, dazzled by displays and costumes, trying to decipher exactly where the MAD panel was being held. Jostled by Gokus, Pokemon and countless Rick and Mortys, we found our way downstairs to the panel. MAD fans were already lining up outside. We spotted Chris Boyko’s wide smile in line and said hello before being ushered into the back of the room by a convention wrangler, while the previous panel finished a Q&A. A tall gentleman in glasses and sensible sport coat followed and sat down next to us. “Mark Fredrickson.” “Oh, I love your work! Mark, this is Angelo Torres.” “Angelo, I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. Here, hold this.” Mark handed a small plush poodle toy to Ange, and asked him to pose for a picture for his young son, who sent the poodle as an ambassador. Ange and I went to find some water and were greeted outside by John Ficarra, Sam Viviano, James Warhola, Dick DeBartolo, Nick Meglin, Ryan Flanders, Charlie Kadau, Joe Raiola, Teresa Burns Parkhurst - and, lo and behold - world record holder Al Jaffee. Everyone was excited to see each other, and the hugs and insults flowed freely. As the last panel cleared, everyone went in to find seats. The MAD panelists climbed the stage and I sat in the second row with Ange, Desmond Devlin and Ray Alma, while Ryan Flanders, Dave Croatto, Patty Dwyer and Jacob Lambert, among other staff, took the front row. Tom Richmond, Ed Steckley and Hermann Mejia sat on the side, and Tom Bunk tried to join the panel just before the start, but was swatted away by Raiola. As the lights dimmed, a rumor spread that even Max Korn was in attendance… John Ficarra took the podium and asked the audience to rise for a MAD rendition of “America the Beautiful” while a lyrics slideshow played on the screen. John then introduced the panelists and took us through a short slideshow of the history of MAD, which concluded in mere seconds, jumping straight from MAD #1 to current issue, #547. After some quick plugs for upcoming MAD books, Ficarra led a year-in-review of MAD’s greatest hits of 2017, mentioning Trump covers were their best-selling issues. A sneak preview of upcoming MAD #548 capped the presentation, and fans lined up to ask questions and receive a MAD hat for their trouble. Some fans asked about MAD changing over the years, about MAD’s imminent move to Burbank, and Ficarra noted that MAD has always reflected the times - as the language of the populous has grown coarser, so has the language in MAD, as politics have taken over the zeitgeist of the nation, so have they taken over the pages of MAD - it’s business as usual. When asked, Ficarra also responded to the events in Las Vegas, and spoke sensitively about how MAD has never made a practice of “victim humor” and that the staff thought carefully about their response. Al Jaffee described his Fold-In process, working from the outside in, not seeing the final gag until it’s in the magazine, and Nick Meglin recounted the debacle of the infamous middle finger cover (MAD #166) - one of the MAD’s few misfires in 65 years. Teresa Burns Parkhurst implored a young artist not to go to college, and Sam Viviano added that the road of a creative is tough, but you’ll find your way if you’ve got talent. After one particularly knowledgeable fan took the time to individually compliment each panelist’s talents, Ficarra slipped him a dollar bill as payment, sending the crowd into uproarious applause. As the Q&A wound down, all of the contributors and staff took the stage for a truly historic photo opportunity - the largest gathering of the Usual Gang of Idiots in recent memory. Filing out of the auditorium, the staff squeezed their way to the Artist’s Alley near the entrance, to take shifts autographing vintage Alfred E. Neuman portraits and special convention sampler issues. I hopped in line to get some signatures in silver ink for my Completely MAD hardcover and snag some MAD pinback buttons. Some of the staff split to order pizza at the MAD office uptown, as Mark Fredrickson had never been before, while Ange, Meglin, James Warhola, Tom Bunk and myself sought out the D.C. VIP room to overlook the exhibition hall for sandwiches and coffee. Warhola (who is Andy Warhol’s nephew) grilled Ange about his friendships with Al Williamson, Frank Frazetta, Roy Krenkel, and Sid Check. I mentioned to Warhola that some art historians credit a specific panel in MAD #22 for inspiring his uncle’s aesthetic, which he hadn’t heard, but imparted that the silkscreens were Andy’s way of memorializing Marilyn's untimely passing. I asked Bunk about the first issue of MAD he’d ever read and was tickled to hear he was weaned on German-language reprints of Kurtzman’s MAD Reader and MAD Strikes Back. Meglin led us (to) the main floor to point out original E.C. artwork and introduce Ange to some old friends. We stopped by the National Cartoonists Society booth to say hi to Ed Steckley and Ray Alma, and visited the esteemed and very funny Mark Evanier at the Abrams booth. Ange and I wandered around looking for a few of his old Classics Illustrated issues, but came up short. We bumped into Chris Boyko again, and the nicest E.C. fan of them all, Clint Morgan, who was hot on the hunt for high grade E.C.s. Beat from hiking the exhibition hall, we hopped a cab to a hotel for a few beers. Meglin told me how he and Ange met at the Cartoonists and Illustrators School, when Ange asked out loud if anyone knew the Brooklyn Dodgers score - fast friends and bosom buddies from then on. Eventually, we sauntered to the Heartland Brewery on the ground floor of the Empire State Building, where D.C. was hosting a MAD-themed party in honor of the New York staff. Alfred E. Neuman and Spy heads were pasted on every picture in the restaurant, a super special MAD drinks menu was on offer, and every table had MAD coasters and fortune cookies, with appropriately sardonic fortunes. Tom Richmond joined us and we gorged on delicious pulled-pork sliders and more beer (I stuck to the Pale Ale Jaffee). I gave Tom a set of MAD trading cards and Meglin shuffled through the deck, commenting on each cover, while I sputtered trivia. Tom, who later ordered a 43-Man Squamish from the bar, complimented Ange on his new website - Ange nodded to my work on it, and I doffed my MAD cap in kind. Sufficiently stuffed, we moved to the lower level of the brewery, where much of the MAD staff had congregated. TV screens above the bar played slideshows of MAD covers and Celebrity Snaps while other D.C. staff introduced themselves to the New York MAD crew. Joe Raiola clapped me on the back and I told him how his years of jokes had shaped my critical thinking skills and thanked him in earnest. D.C. Co-Publisher Dan Didio grabbed a microphone and hushed the crowd, thanked everyone for coming, and beckoned John Ficarra to the stairs to make a short speech. Ficarra expressed his gratitude and admiration for the New York MAD staff and all of their incredible work, and wished the best of luck to everyone in Burbank. Bill Morrison, MAD Burbank Editor-in-Chief, made the rounds with easy charm and was happy to say hello. I told him how much MAD meant to me, that I was excited to see where MAD goes and handed him a small piece of MAD history as a lucky token for his new endeavor. The evening drew to a close and everyone said heartfelt goodbyes. Ange and I grabbed some MAD barf bags on our way out, and hailed a car back to Brooklyn. In our yellow taxi on the Brooklyn Bridge, Ange looked over his shoulder at the Manhattan skyline and said, “Ah… I love this filthy town.”

#mad magazine #articles #2017 #nycc #nycc2017 #Mad #November 2017

1 note · View note

sweetsoursugarcube · 8 years ago

Text

Trip and Fall in Love

Read on |AO3| or |FF.NET| ~ 4.3K

For: @raitoackerman

Prompt: AU in which Eren is a shy and clumsy model, and annoys his photographer Levi who doesn't want to admit that Eren is actually freaking cute when he trips over cables. They’re hitting a bar after a shoot one day, and a drunk Eren confesses that he thinks Levi’s really hot and that's why he’s always bumping into stuff during shoots - well that, and the fact that he's pretty blind, but thinks his glasses don't make him cute at all.

Many thanks to my beta reader, she made this so much better

Like the wind through a dense forest, rumors swept through the country’s leading media group for fashion magazines. No matter about whom or what was the talk of the week, everyone were bound to know it. Tough luck if all the spotlights were aimed at you.

Levi, too, got his generous slice of attention.

“Did you see how Ackerman acted last week at the beach shoot? He’d rather have photographed the seagulls than the models,” the hairstylist said during their most recent break before popping her fourth gum of the hour in her mouth.

Levi had ignored her. If they did not talk about him, it would be someone else.

To be fair, he did enjoy photographing nature. But not even the highest mountains or the most colorful butterflies could rival the satisfaction of capturing the spirit of a restless model. Levi had immortalized eyes the color of tropical waterfalls one should be able to create only with the power of Photoshop. Seagulls did not compare with a man whose tongue is poking out from between his lips, head tilting back, his brown locks caressing his cheekbones, and sand sticking to his skin. If he were to choose between a pretty model and nature-

“Oomph! Fuck- shit. Sorry! Sorry.”

Maybe he would choose nature anyway.

Levi grumbled and straightened up to peer over his Canon. Before him, the model - in his navy Ken Wroy boxer-briefs and nothing else - scrambled to get back up on his feet. The last man for the day: Eren Yeager. 24 years old. Fairly new to the company. He had been working at a smaller agency a few years, before Erwin scouted him out and offered him a contract. Levi had taken his photos for two months.

An assistant Levi did not recognize lay on the floor by Eren’s feet, her complexion mottled. She extended her hand to pull herself up with the chair that someone had toppled over, but just as she was about to stand, it was tugged from her grasp and set straight. Falling again, a choked yelp left her as she hit her head against the floor.

Eren squeaked before he could stop himself. “Oh shit, fuck, shit. I’m so, so sorry, here, let me help you. . .”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. Talented and handsome as Eren was, all the published pictures had been a success, yet he could not go through even one shoot without causing a ruckus. If it was not for his looks and his attentive personality, Levi would not have put up with this kind of shit. He could learn, he wanted to learn, but. . .

“Why the hell can’t he just not fuck up all the goddamn time?”

Hange, who had once again draped themselves across the chair that was supposed to be his, screeched before stage-whispering: “Oh come on, he’s just nervous. You’re taking his first nudes. Poor cutie.”

“Nudes? Tch.”

The chair and the assistant had been towed out of sight by the time Levi crouched down with his camera. He barked orders to both the crew and the model as the scenery through the lens changed. Half the photos would be taken from a distance and the rest up close. Eren would be both standing up and sitting on the floor, pulling off the new ideas that had haunted Levi ever since Erwin had assigned him the underwear ads.

Eren’s cheeks donned a pleasant flush, despite the make-up. His fingers trembled when he pulled a hand through his hair. From off camera, the hairstylist yelled at him to not tangle her creation. The scent of her strawberry bubblegum spread across the set when she barged into the frame before Levi could command her to stay away. And when she turned to him for support, all Levi had to offer was “he’s got more sex appeal now”. She opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it and stomped away.

“You call it sex appeal? He looks like he hasn’t gotten his first kiss yet,” Hange said as they scrolled down one of their social media feeds.

Before them, Eren shuffled his feet to find his pose again. Levi kept his voice down. “You saw the beach photos, he can be confident too. As Erwin said, his versatility is his,” Levi galanced at Hange, “charm.”

“If you say so.” Hange drummed their fingers against their chin. “Which reminds me, the results of last month’s rankings will be published today. Think Eren will make the list?”

“Of course he will. Who the fuck has been taking his pics?” Levi snorted before raising his voice. “Okay, stay still.”

He glanced up at the set. Everything was in order.

“Ready?”

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick-

Contrary to the majority of Levi’s models, Eren had the liberty to choose his own poses once in a while too. Eren understood his visions and what worked and what did not, correcting himself even at the slightest twitch of Levi’s eyebrow.

Shoots like these were why Levi had pursued a career as a photographer. That, and the fact that Erwin knew how to push his buttons and how to make Levi work for him.

Clickclickclickclickclickclick.

The sound effects of the camera resonated loud in his ears, drowning out the white noise. He raised his finger off the shutter only to give the crew new orders.

“Spray and pray, huh. Don’t you put a little too much faith in him?” Hange asked, their attention still on their phone.

“There’ll be some presentable pics among the crap.” Straightening his back, Levi shook away the creeping numbness of his body. The leg days at the gym did pay off during work, considering he more often than not crouched in an awkward position for the sake of art. They did not prevent the pins and needles from prickling him though. He directed his next words to Eren. “Not half-bad.”

“Thank-”

“Sit your ass down on the floor and make sure the logo is visible. Pull your knees up and lean back on your left arm.”

Eren hurried to obey, landing on his bottom with a thud and a grimace. He fumbled with his feet to show as much as possible of the scarce clothing he wore. Every once in a while, he cast Levi a side glance, and either adjusted his position or moved on to the next limb depending on how he interpreted Levi’s expression.

His shoulders were tense, chocolate strands caressing his temples, his vivacity enticing. Nothing like the vibe he had given off before. Levi sat down on his heels again, this time settling on his knees to pardon his muscles the strain of a continuous squat. Eren’s eyes strayed down from the lens and quickly up again, averting his gaze and sucking in his lower lip.

Levi hummed and snapped a photo per automatic.

“This will do.” In the background, a gum bubble was popped, followed by a groan. “You need to relax. Shift your arms, and- don’t twist like that, I want to see your face.”

Eren’s lips puckered in a bemused pout. The camera hid the upturn of Levi’s lips from everyone but Hange, who squinted at each of them one at the time.

“You like him,” Hange said in a hushed high-pitch. “Don’t you?”

Levi grunted. “As I said, he’s not bad.”

Hange did not acknowledge his words in any way, but contrary to his expectations he was not eased by their silence. Levi almost missed their usual babbling - keyword being almost.

A dull pounding at the back of his head distracted him from enjoying the sparkle in Eren’s eye and the contrast between his skin and the background. The stark whiteness of it egged on his headache.

And Eren’s gaze never strayed, following his nose into the empty air. Just as Levi wanted. Right?

“Try sitting on your knees and leaning to your right. Yeah, just like that.”

Eren’s body was taut, showcasing the perfect balance between lean and muscular. His jawline sharp, carriage casual, and his hairstyle decidedly flawless no matter how aggressively the hairstylist chewed her gum. Levi fiddled with the zoom settings. He could hear the kettle calling him from at home as he pressed the shutter down and took the last series of photos. Eren moved little; only tilted his head to the side and bent his arms to boost his unperturbed aura. It was meaningless though, considering the way his gaze blazed with an intense fire. Levi had lowered the camera by the time Hange heehawed like a victorious donkey.

“Oh my God! Eren, you’ve ranked fifth on the popularity poll for male models.” They gestured to their phone, which they held high in the air. “And Levi is still number one for the photogs, for what, the sixth year straight? What an honor this is, we’ll have to celebrate-”

Gritting his teeth, Levi stretched his legs. In his peripheral vision he caught Eren staring at them, his lips parted, but Levi did not wait to see the rest of his reaction. It had been a long day at work with only a few minutes breaks between models, and a night out would only add to the stress. He deserved a relaxing evening, and tomorrow he would hit the gym before all the drunkards would even wake up from their self-induced alcohol poisoning comas, let alone mess with his workout routine.

Besides, being caught ogling at Eren would not bode well, so why tempt himself?

With a lazy wave, he went on his way towards his office. “See you Monday.”

“No-no, wait up. We need to celebrate! It’s tradition. And this is Eren’s first time in the top ten. He deserves it. Eren, you’ll come too, right? First round’s on me.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. I’ll come if it’s okay for. . . everyone else.”

Levi halted and twisted to regard the two of them, both of whom idled at the edge of the set.

“Of course it is.” Hange cackled and slapped Eren on the shoulder. He stumbled forward, and right into the cables that kept the setting well-lit and the shoots running smoothly. Just as he regained his balance, he took another step, hitting against the equipment. He would have crashed to the floor if Hange had not caught him by the waist before impact.

“Woah, you. I know Levi’s got some unrivaled charm right there, but it’s not worth falling for.” They held Eren up and patted his cheek. His make-up did nothing to conceal the redness of his neck and ears.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I didn’t notice the cables.”

“If you say so.” They laughed and sent him an overdramatized wink, which was received by spluttering. Hange adjusted their glasses so they could peer at Levi over the rim. “So how about the tradition, huh? You’ll come too, right?”

“It’s just an excuse for you to get shitfaced again.”

“Of course it is. Why else would it be tradition?”

Levi propped the camera against his hip. Hange gesticulated and muttered something about their healthy drinking habits, while Eren’s gaze wandered from one of them to the other. The thought of him squeezed between a smashed Hange and tipsy Erwin at their usual bar conquered the melancholic echo of Levi’s whistling kettle and weary body. He could take a painkiller for that.

“Fine.”

Hange froze. “You’ll come?”

With another hand wave, he spun on his heel. “Sure. I’ll put away this shit, and we’ll meet at the usual spot. But you’re paying.”

“I said only the first round!”

Hange pouted, but Levi took no notice.

Because Eren sported a dumb, utterly fucking ridiculous beam, Levi had to tighten his grip on the camera to restrain himself from taking a picture of it. It would have been a great addition. Not to his portfolio, but his phone contact photos.

The first Friday of each month: “Winners’ bar night” - also known as “Levi appreciation day” - which Levi avoided celebrating at all cost.

Except he was there, at the end of the counter with Eren by his side and a wine glass sitting before him, with the last two mouthfuls swirling at the bottom of the bowl.

“So, uh,” Eren said rolling his beer mug between his palms. “Do you come here often?”

Levi snorted. “If you’re going to flirt, do better.”

Eren raised his arms and stumbled over his words. “No, I didn’t mean- I just, Hange mentioned something about how you never come when they ask you to.”

From the booth behind them, Hange’s shouting boomed. Their words drowned in the general hubbub of cheering and dance music, but it was still unmistakably their voice.

Half of the day’s photoshoot crew had flocked around a pool table close to where Hange’s extensive collection of shot glasses adorned a neighboring table, at which they themselves swayed. The hairstylist cheered among others, while emptying her beer bottle at an alarming pace. Their eyes met and she threw him a sloppy smile. Levi hoped she had remembered to spit out her bubblegum beforehand.

“Crowds are too rowdy and loud,” Levi said, turning back to his wine glass. His first and only for the night, since drinking never brought him the joyous high everyone else thirsted for. Besides, his head pounded as it was.

“Oh.”

Eren downed the rest of his beer and asked the bartender for another. He fumbled in his jeans pocket for a ten dollar bill, which he pushed into the waiting hand.

“How many have you had?”

Eren shook his head when he put the mug back down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Maybe you should lay off.”

“I need the courage.”

Upon seeing Levi’s frown, he motioned towards the bar. “I’m the new guy. It’s awkward. I wouldn’t be able to name half of these people.” His gesture ended between them. They stared at each other for a moment before Eren let his elbows hit the counter. “And you’re intimidating.”

Eren let his head loll between his arms. Brown strands pointed in every direction, hiding his eyes. His shoulders hunched, and ankles crossed against the footrest of the stool. The lightning in the bar cast the perfect amount of shadows around him to give him a nostalgic sort of gloom. Like this, Eren had the means to win the sympathies of the whole world if he so desired. A blurred background to bring out the sharp angles of his slouched form was all Levi would need to complete the portrait. It would not make it to a fashion magazine, but that was hardly the goal either.

“That’s why you’re so clumsy on set?”

“Um, yeah, that and. . .” He blushed as he sneaked a peek at Levi from over his arm. “I need my glasses to see.”

“Glasses?”

“I look hideous though.”

“Try me.”

Eren sighed and reached to dig through his jacket pockets. He pulled out a well-kept case and thrummed his fingers against it. One peek at Levi convinced him to pop it open and slip his glasses in place before spinning on the stool. Blinking a few times, his eyes were more focused, but had lost their glow.

Levi’s palms itched. If hideous was teen slang for adorable, then sure, Eren in glasses was as hideous as one could get.

“Told you, I’m not cute at all.”

The object of Levi’s wonder slid down the curve of Eren’s nose. His hands rose to take them off.

“Wrong.” Levi pushed them back up where they belonged with the tip of his forefinger. “Keep them on.”

“But-”

“You’re fucking blind without them, aren’t you? Keep them on.”

The black frames brought out by the tinge of pink on his cheeks even better. It was useful information – for future shoots. Maybe he could convince Erwin to let Eren do a few with them on.

“I lied before.”

Levi made an amused noise. “About what?”

“I need courage for something else too.”

“Oh?” His gaze never left Eren’s face. Eren could not hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. “Spit it out.”

Eren took a swing of his beer. Two or three more gulps and the dry bottom would greet him again. He mumbled something under his breath, before emptying it.

“I can’t hear you.”

“You’re really hot,” Eren cried. Lowering his voice with an self-conscious cough, he continued. “When we first met, I thought you’d be my partner for the first shoot. I was so embarrassed when you brought your camera.” Eren pulled at his hair with both of his hands. “But shit, you’re so distracting.”

Yeah, of course Levi had noticed that sometimes Eren’s eyes lost their way, down from the lens to trace Levi’s arms and the curve of his waist. But that was something all the models did.

Levi had had only one glass of wine tonight, which was way too little for this conversation.

A few remarks came to his mind, but he kept his mouth shut while Eren grimaced at his own confession. Shame swept across the creased features, and Eren jumped off his stool, pulling his belongings to his chest.

“I should go.”

He did not stay for a response, but merged into the crowds with a slight stagger. Perhaps it was for the best that he left now. Certainly Levi would gain nothing by chasing a drunk Eren through the night crowd.

“What the hell.”

Levi tugged on his coat, and left a few bills on the counter, though Eren had paid more than enough for them both throughout the night. Hange would get home on their own unharmed, they always did.

He elbowed his way to the door, the beat of the playing music bidding him goodbye.

The sky was clouded and the air moist. Smoke coiled around his arms and legs, and he did not bother side-stepping the pools of vomit and piss and liquor on the ground.

Further down the road, Eren reached out to open the door of a taxi. Hell was he a brisk drunk.

All other noises melted away and blurred in his mind except that of his soles grating against asphalt and sand sprinkling off his path at the force of his steps, until he skidded to a halt to grip Eren’s arm. His heartbeat had accelerated, but it had nothing to do with his impromptu sprint down the street.

“Oi, don’t spew shit like that and run.”

Eren jolted. He would have backed into the gap between the pavement and the car if Levi had not pulled him closer.

“Sorry.”

Never had he seen anyone else’s irises shift in so many shades of blue and green, and weave into one color in such a seamless manner. All words evaded him, but Eren did not notice.

“So. . . do you want my phone number?”

Levi forced himself to remain stoic. “I already have it.”

Eren blinked at him behind the glasses, and he had to clear his throat.

“We work together, remember?”

“Oh right. Right, of course.”

The driver rolled down the passenger seat window just enough to bark at them. “Are you going to get in or what?”

Eren flashed Levi a smile, and gave him a quick, careless kiss on the cheek, before climbing in with movements much too stealthy for someone as drunk as him.

“Call me.”

The car window reflected the lights from the closed shops behind him, but Levi could bet his favorite camera that on the other side, Eren grinned at him.

Levi lounged at locker 1-04, the one all the other regulars at the gym avoided to the extent he practically owned it by now. A burly man in his twenties shambled in, yawning and throwing his backpack on the bench that ran along the row of lockers.

“Aw man, you’re off already? And I thought I was early,” he said in a rough voice.

“Yeah.” The towel had drawn most of the water off Levi’s hair, so he threw it over his bare shoulder.

The man studied him, but he paid the scrutiny no heed. He had been through this a dozen times before, and the new guys always took their sweet time to learn Levi’s social preference, which was minimum contact with everyone. Most of the other regulars were younger than him anyway, and they did not have much in common, not enough that Levi cared to make further acquaintance. It was not the age itself that was the problem, but their testosterone levels were too damn high and their patience too thin for Levi’s taste.

He fished up his phone from his duffle bag. The screen lit up, with two messages from Eren in response to the one Levi had sent him before hitting the gym.

[06:43] Eren - Jesus, what place is open this early?

[06:43] Eren - The headache isnt that bad. And im sorry for yesterday

The new guy had taken the hint and left the locker room. Levi typed a short text, and rummaged his bag for a clean shirt and slacks.

Eren replied when Levi had walked halfway home. The sun shone bright, painting the uphill road in a golden light that made him want to crouch down and take a shot of the deserted alleyway. Maybe the rumors were right; maybe he should pursue a career as a nature photographer.

[06:58] Eren - I didnt mean it as an insult. I wish i was as dedicated to training as you

[07:59] Eren – Does this mean im forgiven?

Levi’s lips curled upwards.

[07:01] Yeah. I’m going to grab some breakfast. Care to join?

The reply sent, Levi pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. Around him, the sunlight claimed more and more ground, pushing the shadows back into the cracks and crevices where they belonged.

Today would be good day.

Eren stood at the edge of the set with his glasses pushed high up on the bridge of his nose, looking around in apparent search for someone. He played with the buttons of the jacket he held like a shield, but his eyes lit up when they found Levi’s.

“Hey,” he said. His gaze roamed Levi’s body as he was approached. “Uh, you look great.”

Levi made a sound at the back of his throat. “Likewise.” He had to tip his head back to get a better look of the nervous smile on Eren’s lips. “You ready?”

“Well yeah. . .”

Eren’s words trailed off at the end when a louder voice came within hearing range, accompanied by the clicking of stilettos and an artificial scent of strawberry bubblegum. “I told you about the beach shoot, didn’t I? Ackerman couldn’t tear his eyes from that poor boy. Who would’ve known he swung that way, anyways.”

Eren swallowed. He bore an apologetic smile when he slid off his glasses and stuffed them in the case he had hidden underneath the jacket. When handed them, Levi stuck them into his back pocket.

“Mind the cables. Don’t trip.”

Eren scrunched up his nose. “I won’t.”

On set, a single chair had been placed in the middle. Before Eren could dash off, Levi caught his hand. For a split-second their gazes connected, and Levi was once again baffled by the most curious mix of blue and green, before he rose to his toes and pressed his lips to Eren’s slightly parted ones. He combed his fingers through Eren’s locks that were rougher than normal, thanks to the various hair products that they had no doubt been slather in.

“I meant what I said.”

“What?”

“That you look great. Let’s get the photos and eat afterwards.”

Eren beamed at him before stealing a quick last kiss, sauntering off to prepare the setting by hanging his jacket over the back of the chair, and smoothing out the collar of his button-up. Levi’s heart fluttered stupidly while he corrected the settings of the new Sony to accommodate the colder lightning for Eren’s pictures.

On the side, Hange had slumped in his assigned chair, which had not been used all day until they had arrived to get their daily pestering done.

“So,” they drawled, “all the singles are howling their voices’ hoarse. The most handsome ones are always taken or gay, or sometimes both, they say.”

“Tch. Who here’s crying over that?”

“You won’t hear any names from me,” Hange said, smacking their lips. They straightened up and gave Levi a knowing look over the rim of their glasses. “Are you dealing out free kisses now? Can I have one?”

Levi scowled and raised the camera to eyelevel. He would have to crouch to get the best angle. “No.”

With a sigh, they collapsed back into the seat. “It was worth a try.”

Levi scoffed and raised his voice. “Ready?”

Eren nodded and flashed his widest grin, but his shoulders were squared still. They would not be able to leave until Levi had snapped at least a dozen decent photos, but Eren would relax in due time, as long as he ignored the crew that had gathered around them just to stare.

By his side, Hange scrolled through the feed of their probably newest social media account. Their mumbling brought a smirk to Levi’s lips, but he hid it well behind his camera.

“And all you said was ‘he’s not bad’, huh.”

#ereri #ereri fanfic #riren #riren fanfic #rivaere #SnK #fanfiction #my fics #LeviEren #how do you tag these things??#smh

34 notes · View notes

96thdayofrage · 8 years ago

Text

To the Memory of Malcolm X: Fifty Years After His Assassination

Half a century after his murder, Malcolm X has been transformed into “a harmless icon, with his sharp revolutionary anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist political program diluted and softened.” Therefore, it is vital that we celebrate and study the real Malcolm X, who “rejected lesser-evilism and the two-party set up and division of labor that oversaw the capitalist system of racism, imperialism, and exploitation.”

This article previously appeared in Dissident Voice.

“Steadily, and more and more explicitly, Malcolm X embraced anti-capitalist and pro-socialist standpoints as he understood them.”

“I believe that there will be ultimately be a clash between the oppressed and those who do the oppressing. I believe that there will be a clash between those who want freedom, justice and equality for everyone and those who want to continue the system of exploitation. I believe that there will be that kind of clash, but I don’t think it will be based on the color of the skin…” — Malcolm X, One Month Before His Murder

“There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee, even from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times. Many will ask what Harlem finds to honor in this stormy, controversial and bold young captain – and we will smile. Many will say turn away – away from this man, for he is not a man but a demon, a monster, a subverter and an enemy of the black man – and we will smile. They will say that he is of hate – a fanatic, a racist – who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle! And we will answer and say to them: Did you ever talk to Brother Malcolm? Did you ever touch him, or have him smile at you? Did you ever really listen to him? Did he ever do a mean thing? Was he ever himself associated with violence or any public disturbance? For if you did you would know him. And if you knew him you would know why we must honor him. Malcolm was our manhood, our living, black manhood! This was his meaning to his people.” — Eulogy delivered by Ossie Davis at the Funeral of Malcolm X, Faith Temple Church Of God, Harlem, February 27,1965

The Assassination

On February 21, 1965 – 50 years ago this week – Malcolm X, the great African-American and US freedom fighter and outstanding world revolutionary leader, was gunned down in the Audubon Ballroom in upper Manhattan’s Washington Heights on Broadway and 165th Street in New York City. Commemorations of this bitterly sad anniversary that truly altered US and world history have been held in New York City, Malcolm’s home base, across the United States, and throughout the world.

Malcolm X was a peerless orator of tremendous wit and power as well as an indefatigable and effective political organizer. On that fateful and horrible 1965 day he was murdered in cold blood, in front of his wife and children, while addressing a full house of over 400 people, under the auspices of the Organization of Afro-American Unity, the non-religious political formation he founded after his split from Elijah Muhammad’s Nation of Islam (called the “Black Muslims” in the US media).

The gunmen were undoubtedly agents and operatives of the Nation of Islam (NOI). From the moment Malcolm X left the NOI he was subjected to the most vile personal attacks and slanders from Louis Farrakhan and other NOI leaders, including open calls for his death. While the evidence directly linking NOI leaders to the murder plot continues to be covered up, their moral and political responsibility is unquestionable. But this truth also begs the larger question of the direct or indirect responsibility of the United States government in Malcolm X’s death. It is known that US government agencies, that is, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) within the United States, and the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), which took over during Malcolm’s international travels, had stepped up their illegal surveillance, harassment, and hounding of Malcolm X after his departure from the NOI. Federal and local cops and spooks had Malcolm X under constant surveillance. The New York Police Department (NYPD) knew two weeks in advance that Malcolm X was being targeted for assassination. NYPD had at least one undercover agent in the OAAU and had a wiretap on Malcolm X’s phone. Yet no police were in sight at the Audubon Ballroom when he was murdered right in the open. It is also known that part of the FBI’s COINTELPRO operation directed against Malcolm X included exploiting and instigating person venom against Malcolm by his former associates and manipulating the atmosphere of hostility and provocation.

Much of the documentation of this outrageous and illegal US government harassment – which included poison pens letters, instigating and promoting false rumors, personal antagonisms, the leaking and planting of disinformation in the media, and so on has come to light from lawsuits under Freedom of Information Act legislation. In a then-secret 1968 memorandum, Hoover wrote that the FBI must, “Prevent the rise of a ‘messiah’ who could unify, and electrify, the militant black nationalist movement. [Malcolm X] might have been such a ‘messiah’…”

A Hero of My Youth and Always

My first lasting memory of Malcolm X was when, as a 13-year old boy in southern Indiana I was shaken by a graphic photo-spread of his assassination in the old LOOK magazine which my parents subscribed to. I had developed the habit of reading newspapers and following what was called “current events” in school so I was aware of and instinctively sympathetic to the Civil Rights Movement, as were my parents, although they had no direct involvement. A year or two later, we moved to the relatively big city of Cincinnati, Ohio, and I went from a segregated small-town high school to a late-1960s urban cauldron.

The racial and social composition of my new high school was, more or less, about 40% “white” working class and middle class, 40% Black working class, with the rest, including me, mostly Jewish. It was a volatile mix in extremely volatile times, with the Black rights struggle literally exploding nationally as the Vietnam War — and mounting opposition to it — escalating. Interesting alliances and struggles formed in my new high school alongside racial antagonisms and tension. Black and white students united to change the schools draconian dress code; T-shirts, long-haired “hippies,” and Afros proliferated. My high school was even written up in LIFE magazine in one of the era’s ubiquitous pieces on the alienation and rebelliousness of “today’s youth.”

A few of my radicalizing Jewish friends and I gravitated to some of the outspoken Black students. I started sneaking off to attend civil rights protests. At one point we organized a controversial protest over the required recitation of the “Pledge of Allegiance” to the US flag at morning homeroom. Where the closing line says, “One Nation Under God, With Liberty and Justice For All,” we added, “If You’re White.” That landed us in the Principal’s office.

When Martin Luther King was assassinated, the Black ghetto in Cincinnati exploded and my high school was shut down by students who refused to attend classes, considering it an insult to King’s memory that schools remained open.

“I found out that the feared and hated (by some) Malcolm X was funny as hell!”

One day in 1967 I was looking to spend my sparse allowance money on some music at a rock-and-roll and “soul music” store in downtown Cincinnati when there in the stacks, in a section called “Spoken Word,” I saw an LP titled “The Wit and Wisdom of Malcolm X,” excerpts from his speeches. At $1.49 I could afford it. It was an earthshaking experience for me. What eloquence and logic I found within those grooves. What powerful use of language, what masterful employment of analogy and metaphor. What uncompromising exposure of hypocrisy and duplicity. What passion and compassion.

Perhaps most unexpected for me was the profound and brilliant humor. At the time I had ambitions to be a comedian and I devoured comedy albums and movies as well as books on comedy “theory” — Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Slappy White, the Marx Brothers, Burns and Allen, Flip Wilson, Don Rickles, and all the regulars on Ed Sullivan and Johnny Carson. I found out that the feared and hated (by some) Malcolm X was funny as hell! I played that soon-to-be scratchy album on my rickety record player to the point where I’m sure I drove my mother crazy. Soon after that purchase I stayed up all day and night and read The Autobiography of Malcolm X nonstop barricaded in my room. Like so many millions of others, reading The Autobiography was a real turning point in my life outlook and in the development of my political and social consciousness.

The Autobiography

The Autobiography of Malcolm X is a riveting and astonishing book that rises to great literature. Translated into over 30 languages, it should be essential reading for any literate human being in this country and indeed on this Earth. But if your only introduction and exposure to Malcolm X is this wonderful book, you will be unable to grasp and understand his world historical significance and true legacy, both the continuity and the profound transformation of his short, remarkable life.

The Autobiography was a book dictated by Malcolm X to Alex Haley on the run over the last two years of his life, while he was engaged in a grueling schedule of intense political organizing in the United States that was intertwined with extensive international travel that broadened and sharpened his moral and political outlook. His collaboration with Haley began while Malcolm X was still a member of and under the discipline of the Nation of Islam. But by the end of 1963 Malcolm’s estrangement from the NOI was reaching a climax. For Malcolm X the radical split, which had been building for some time from moral and political motivations, became a personal and political liberation that was the catalyst pushing him forward. Responding later to a reporter trying to tie him to old NOI dogmas, he stated, “I feel like a man who has been asleep somewhat and under someone else’s control. I feel that what I’m thinking and saying is now for myself. Before it was for and by the guidance of Elijah Muhammad. Now I think with my own mind, sir!”

Malcolm X was unable to edit and correct many specific mistakes and misinterpretations in The Autobiography. He was unable to explain and elaborate on the new positions and his rejection of NOI nostrums he had promulgated by rote as an NOI leader. One example of this was his position against interracial marriages which he changed as he dumped Muhammad’s “Yacub’s theory” that “all whites” were the devilish offsprings of the experiments and machinations of an evil scientist from way back when. An expression of his old position was contained in The Autobiography. But in a November 23, 1964 press conference – less than three months before his murder – Malcolm was asked, “Are you against the love between a black person and a white person.” His answer: “How can anyone be against love? Whoever a person wants to love that’s their business – that’s like their religion.”

In general, Haley’s editing of The Autobiography transcripts dilutes or deletes what was a sharp shift and trajectory to the left in Malcolm’s political and philosophical views. Steadily, and more and more explicitly, Malcolm X embraced anti-capitalist and pro-socialist standpoints as he understood them. Within the Nation of Islam, Malcolm had always positioned himself on the side of the Black masses, the working people, as opposed to the more “respectable” “Black bourgeoisie,” as he put it, who were afraid to “rock the boat.” His blistering, uproarious popularization of the class divides within the oppressed Afro-American nationality at the time of the mass struggles of the 1960s was articulated brilliantly in his classic oratorical construction, “The House Negro and the Field Negro” that he inserted into many speeches. (This can be easily found on YouTube and elsewhere online.)

“His collaboration with Haley began while Malcolm X was still a member of and under the discipline of the Nation of Islam.”

Outside the NOI, and in close contact with revolutionary internationalists of all skin colors and nationalities who were influenced by Marxist ideas and working-class struggles, these questions had moved more and more to the center of Malcolm’s consciousness at the end of his life.

Malcolm wished to change and reformulate many things in The Autobiography, especially in the last chapters covering the period of his split from the NOI. Haley resisted, citing deadline pressures and Malcolm was murdered before the book was published. The printed book focuses on – doing a generally beautiful job — the narration of Malcolm’s turbulent and searing life experiences. But the published narrative is incomplete. To fully appreciate the complete journey and legacy of Malcolm X, The Autobiography must be supplemented by reading and studying the man and his ideas directly in his own words.

Fortunately this is possible in print, audio, and video. Pathfinder Press is a small but prestigious socialist publishing house (www.pathfinderpress.com), affiliated with the Socialist Workers Party (SWP), a Marxist group which developed a close relationship with Malcolm X, and published his speeches, before his death. Pathfinder undertook immediately after Malcolm X’s death a major project, in collaboration with his wife Betty Shabazz, to gather and publish as much direct material of Malcolm X’s considerable output – speeches, essays, transcripts of interviews and press conferences, and so on from the crucial last year-and-a-half of his life. All of this remains in print today, completely uncensored and in basic chronology, so the reader can see for themselves the development and political evolution of this genuine American revolutionary. (I was a member of the SWP for over 20 years from the early 1970s to the mid-1990s and played a small part in helping Pathfinder to proofread and prepare for print some of the later published volumes.).

Targeted for Destruction

During this last period of his life Malcolm X functioned under and confronted – almost alone – tremendous pressures and life-threatening circumstances. He was literally marked for death by the NOI. A week before his assassination, his Queens, New York home was firebombed as he, his pregnant wife, and their four daughters were sleeping, all narrowly escaping death. The NYPD “investigation” was slovenly and perfunctory, implying he did it himself!

The Split

Malcolm X’s accumulating and mounting estrangement from the Nation of Islam intensified with his deep revulsion and abhorrence at a sordid sexual scandal and cover up involving Elijah Muhammad. This brought to the fore growing and irreconcilable political differences between Malcolm X and the conservative NOI hierarchy over how to achieve Black freedom in the United States. The differences were not abstract or theological in content, but had red hot immediacy because the context was the exploding movement among the Black masses for freedom that characterized the end of the 1950s and beginning of the 1960s. The obscurantist and hidebound Nation of Islam (NOI) preached religious piety and individual self-improvement and abstained from the mass political struggles and mobilizations that were rocking Black communities North and South.

Malcolm was attracted to these struggles and wanted the NOI, which his organizational skills had largely built into a significant presence in the Black ghettos and among Blacks incarcerated, as Malcolm had been, in US prisons, to jump into these struggles. But under Muhammad’s extreme sectarian outlook – which disdained mass political struggle and counterposed “self-reform,” abstinence from drugs and alcohol, and promoting the NOI’s growing business interests (which made Muhammad a rich man), this was rejected. Malcolm began to feel like a prisoner within the NOI. It was not only the growing mass mobilizations of the Civil Rights Movement and the growing political militancy and radicalization among Black youth and working people that found resonance within Malcolm X. He was also increasingly conscious of the contradictions and absurdities of the philosophical rationalizations put forward in the above-mentioned “Yacub’s theory” for the “separatist” program of the NOI. Malcolm’s accumulating break with all this quasi-religious mystification and hocus-pocus became definitive once he was liberated from the NOI straightjacket. Among the elements of the NOI positions that Malcolm jettisoned was his open rejection of the anti-Semitism and scapegoating of Jews that was embedded in the NOI outlook.

Rid of NOI dogma, Malcolm’s trip abroad across the African continent and to the Middle East and Mecca facilitated his final break with race-based theories and generalizations about “white” people. He sharpened his view that “race” is, at bottom, itself a myth and a wholly artificial political construct. In the United States, he said, “white” essentially means “boss,” that is, that “white supremacy” has no rational scientific content or meaning other than as an expression of and rationalization for the oppression, subordination, and degradation of the Afro-American people or nationality.

Anti-Imperialism

A voracious reader of history and politics Malcolm began to develop a coherent anti-imperialist world outlook. He knew his facts and he had a keen grasp for the historical framework to sort out and understand factual contradictions. As a result he was a master at sniffing out and untangling media distortions, lies, and half-truths. With withering contempt he exposed media disinformation and lying spin regarding anti-colonial struggle for independence and national liberation across Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East. He bristled when “Western” media, echoing Washington’s line, attacked the Mau-Mau freedom fighters in Kenya who were fighting the brutal rule of a declining British imperialism, as “savages.” The bourgeois media, Malcolm never tired of pointing out, were masters at “turning the criminal into the victim, and the victim into the criminal.”

Even before his split with the NOI, Malcolm was, like Martin Luther King and the emerging new generation of US civil rights leaders and activists, deeply affected by the African independence struggles that burst onto world politics in the post-World War II period through the 1950s and 60s. He connected the experience of what he termed “Afro-Americans” to the struggles in Africa and the rest of the so-called Third World. The Black freedom struggle, he argued, was part of, not separate from the worldwide anti-colonial and anti-racist struggle. Both were interconnected and exploding at the same time under the dynamics unleashed by the massive revolutionary changes ushered in by World War II and its end. Malcolm sought to build practical relations of political collaboration with leaders of oppressed peoples around the world.

Washington Targets Malcolm

The powers-that-be in Washington were at this time the unchallenged leader of the capitalist world and facing the post-World War II explosion of colonial independence and national liberation struggles in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East. Washington sought to prevent the vacuum left by the weakened and withered ex-colonial empires of Britain, France, and other European powers from resulting in radical social revolutions along the lines of the Chinese, Vietnamese, and Cuban Revolutions. These national liberation struggles were seen as both a threat to US and “Western” economic and financial interests as well as an arena of “geopolitical” “Cold War” competition with the Soviet Union and “Red” China.

As previously said, Malcolm X was under permanent surveillance and harassment by agencies of the United States government – the Lyndon Johnson White House and its J. Edgar Hoover-led FBI. The US State Department and CIA dogged his every step during his overseas travels to newly independent African countries and elsewhere. A month before his murder, Washington pressured the French government to bar his re-entry to the country where he had been invited to speak before a huge gathering. Washington feared his broad political appeal after he gained his moral and political independence from the NOI and began to devote his indefatigable energy to organizing in the United States and internationally.

In particular, Washington was horrified over Malcolm’s outspoken condemnation of the brutal US intervention in the Congo, his early, sharp opposition to the escalating US war in Vietnam, and his open, enthusiastic embrace of the Cuban Revolution. Additionally, Washington undertook a big effort to counter Malcolm X’s major campaign to bring before the United Nations General Assembly for a vote the human rights violations against African-Americans in the United States, which was gathering support internationally and in the US. In the period before his murder Malcolm was preparing to go on a speaking tour of US campuses to speak out against US aggression in Vietnam.

The Congo

Events in the Congo had a powerful impact on the political consciousness the evolution into a revolutionary of Malcolm X.

What transpired in the Congo was surely one of the greatest crimes of both the 19th Century, repeated again in the 20th Century. A Belgian colony, the Congo, in the 19th Century under the rule of King Leopold, was essentially a semi-slave territory where huge profits for Belgian capitalists were extracted among rubber workers and other toilers under the most horrid conditions, including amputations of workers limbs for supposed labor infractions. Belgian Congo was a laboratory for the genocides of the 20th Century, with an estimated 4-8 million indigenous Congolese killed under Leopold’s reign of terror. (For documentation see the classic indictment by Mark Twain, King Leopold’s Soliloquy, written in 1905 by the great American novelist, essayist, and satirist and Adam Hochschild’s grim and vivid 1998 best-seller, King Leopold’s Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa.)

By the 1950s Belgian rule was in crisis and no longer tenable as the Congolese people became a leading contingent of the post-World war II struggles for independence that swept the African continent from top to bottom. The decrepit, declining Belgian rulers conceded the holding of elections to be followed by a formal process leading to independence. The central figure and inspiring leader of the Congolese independence struggle was the teacher Patrice Lumumba who handily won the promised elections and established a popular government that began to implement desperately needed measures in a large country which the Belgian colonialists had left destitute with a puny number of schools and hospitals and no infrastructure other than what was needed to transport the country’s vast mineral and other wealth out of it. Lumumba’s government also staked out an independent non-aligned foreign policy which Washington found intolerable.

The departing Belgians, with Washington’s backing, began from day one to subvert and work to destroy Lumumba’s government. Along with the South African apartheid state they financed, armed, and promoted separatist forces led by the notorious mercenary and killer Moishe Tshombe. With growing chaos, and under United Nations cover, Washington and Brussels engineered a coup against Lumumba in September 1961. Lumumba was taken hostage and brutally murdered in January 1961. The CIA had a direct hand in all of this. The imperialist coup installed a lackey regime led by the tyrant Tshombe that Washington and Belgian could depend on to protect the nation’s vast copper, rubber, and other mineral holdings for super-profitable exploitation by imperialist capital.

“Malcolm continuously spoke out against Washington’s crimes, in solidarity with the Congolese people.”

As resistance to the pro-imperialist coup mounted among the Congolese followers of the martyred Lumumba, Washington and Belgium organized a racist mercenary army. In cahoots with apartheid South African and the British colonial-settler state of Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) they recruited racist and ultra-rightist mercenaries from the United States, other European states, and some anti-Castro counter-revolutionary exiles from Cuba. These forces, under barely covert US CIA supervision, carried out murderous bombing raids against “rebel-held villages” and other terrorist atrocities and massacres that resulted in many thousands of Congolese deaths.

These crimes, and the shameless lies turning reality on its head in the big-business US media towing the US government’s line, infuriated and galvanized Malcolm X. He continuously spoke out against Washington’s crimes, in solidarity with the Congolese people. He spoke the bold and unvarnished truth in the face of imperialist propaganda. In the last interview he gave before his death to the Young Socialist magazine, Malcolm stated, “Probably there is no greater example of criminal activity against an oppressed people than the role the US has been playing in the Congo, through her ties with Tshombe and the mercenaries. You can’t overlook the fact that Tshombe gets his money from the US. The money he uses to hire these mercenaries – these paid killers supported from South Africa – comes from the United States. The pilots that fly those planes have been trained by the US. The bombs themselves that are blowing apart the bodies of women and children come from the US. So I can only view the role of the United States in the Congo as a criminal role.”

US-led “Western” policy action eventually led to the installation of the dictator Joseph Mobutu (aka Mobutu Sese Seko) who led an exceedingly venal and vicious regime for over 40 years, becoming a multi-billionaire until his regime collapsed in 1997.

Malcolm X and the Cuban Revolution

Malcolm X was a strong supporter of the Cuban Revolution even before he left the NOI. Among the first acts of the revolutionary government led by Fidel Castro after the triumph of the Cuban Revolution on January 1, 1959 was the radical extirpation of all laws and state practices upholding Jim Crow-style segregation in Cuba. Afro-Cubans were among the greatest beneficiaries and most enthusiastic supporters of the Revolution and as fighters in the guerrilla army. Malcolm X was prominent among a large layer of Black intellectuals and activists including W.E.B. DuBois, LeRoi Jones (later known as Amiri Baraka), Robert F. Williams, William Worthy and many others who welcomed and defended the Cuban Revolution, which was coming under increasing US attack.

The Cuban Revolution had already begun to implement radical social programs (of which smashing legal segregation was one), including a radical land reform, that was having a definite material impact on those US economic and financial interests which utterly dominated Cuban society. The Eisenhower Administration was already deeply involved in the initial planning of what became the Bay of Pigs invasion, and was leading the bipartisan consensus across the US government that the revolutionary Cuban government had to go down.

In September 1960, while still in the NOI, Malcolm X met with Fidel Castro in Harlem. The circumstances of Malcolm and Fidel’s meeting have become legendary (for details see Rosemari Mealy’s excellent Fidel and Malcolm X: Memories of a Meeting, Ocean Press). Faced with unacceptable impositions and expenses by the management of the Shelburne Hotel, the Cuban delegation to the special fall gathering of world heads of state at the United Nations packed up and moved uptown to the Theresa Hotel in Harlem and enthusiastic crowds of African-Americans and other friends and supporters of the Cuban Revolution.

Malcolm’s attitude to the Cuban Revolution was favorable before he exited from the Nation of Islam: “The Cuban Revolution, that’s a Revolution. They overturned the system,” he said in his last major speech as an NOI representative. But his political attraction to its revolutionary internationalist and socialist program deepened after his split from the NOI.

Malcolm’s admiration for the Cuban revolutionaries not only flowed from his consciousness of the vigorous anti-racist measures carried out by the Revolution, but also from the words and deeds of the revolutionary Cuban government in support of African liberation in general and the Congolese anti-imperialist struggle in particular. Che Guevara not only spoke eloquently at the United Nations condemning imperialist policy in the Congo, saying “All free men must be prepared to avenge the crime of the Congo,” but later actually fought there with followers of Lumumba, attempting to organize an effective revolutionary resistance.

Malcolm X personally invited Che to speak in Harlem in December 1964, but his appearance had to be put off over security concerns. As Malcolm read Che’s solidarity message, he said, “I love a revolutionary. And one of the most revolutionary men in this country right now was going to come out…” When the crowd responded to Che’s solidarity message with strong applause, Malcolm said the applause “lets the man know that he’s just not in a position today to tell us who we should applaud for and who we shouldn’t applaud for.”

From Pariah to Icon

It would be hard to find a figure in US history more slandered, vilified, and misrepresented while he was alive than Malcolm X. He was labeled a “hatemonger,” a “racist-in-reverse,” a promoter and man of violence, and worse. This was not confined to blatant racists and segregationists but was the standard line in more respectable and genteel liberal society. When it came to Malcolm X, especially after he broke free from the dogma and narrow confines of Elijah Muhammad’s Nation of Islam, moved sharply to the left, and began to speak out and organize freely, the gloves came off among most liberal voices, and a furious hatred came to the surface. This was captured in the classic Phil Ochs satiric ballad, “Love Me, I’m a Liberal” whose opening stanza goes, “I cried when they shot Medgar Evers, Tears ran down my spine, And I cried when they shot Mr. Kennedy, as though I’d lost a father of mine…But Malcolm X got what was coming, He got what he asked for this time, so love, love me, love me…I’m a liberal.”

Perhaps the most notorious example of this was a scurrilous editorial in the liberal, sophisticated, pro-civil rights New York Times, published the day after he was murdered. To the Times editorial board Malcolm X was “an extraordinary and twisted man, turning many true gifts to evil purpose.” With a stunning and brazen disregard for the slightest accuracy and truth, the editorial asserted that Malcolm X held a “ruthless and fanatical belief in violence…[that] also marked him for notoriety and for a violent end.” Continuing on the insinuation that Malcolm X was responsible for his own death, the Times editorial continues, “He could not even come to terms with his fellow black extremists. The world he saw through those horned-rim glasses of his was distorted and dark. But he made it darker still with his exaltation of fanaticism.

“Yesterday someone came out of the darkness that he spawned, and killed him…[T]his murder could easily touch off a war of vengeance of the kind he himself fomented.” ( all emphasis added)

The bile and vitriol of that shameful editorial was echoed in the even-more liberal Nation magazine which placed Malcolm X on the “Negro lunatic fringe” that was, furthermore, “defeatist.”

Later that year, the Autobiography of Malcolm X and Malcolm X Speaks, unedited and uncensored full presentations of his actual speeches and words, were published by the maverick Grove Press, the latter book in conjunction with Pathfinder Press. They became instant classics and best sellers, especially among Blacks and students. It was no longer possible to write such lies and garbage about Malcolm X and both the New York Times and The Nation changed their tune, publishing reviews and articles that were highly favorable and sympathetic to Malcolm X, reflecting the new esteem and appreciation of him in growing layers of society, Black and Caucasian. Over time a new mythology regarding Malcolm X began to congeal, a new distortion of his political and moral trajectory, this time not from open opponents but purported friends and admirers. Of course, it helped that he was dead.

Today, fifty years after his murder Malcolm X has become as icon. There is a US Stamp issued with his likeness, major streets are named after him, the legendary Autobiography is considered a classic, still selling briskly and assigned to numerous high school and college classes. New York Mayor Bill de Blasio and numerous other liberal and conservative political figures have cited it as a major influence on their lives.

“There is a US Stamp issued with his likeness, major streets are named after him.”

Nevertheless, this latter iconization of Malcolm X, more often than not, is the other side of the coin that previously disparaged him when he was alive, in the sense that he has been transformed by “mainstream” forces into a harmless icon, with his sharp revolutionary anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist political program diluted and softened. The conscious or unconscious operation strains to turn Malcolm X, who was above all else a genuine revolutionary, into a conventional liberal or conservative, someone who can be folded into the traditional spectrum of bourgeois Democratic and Republican party US politics. This is a travesty of the actual Malcolm X and his actual political and moral trajectory.

The death of Malcolm X was a devastating blow to the Black freedom struggle in the United States and for oppressed and exploited people in every continent worldwide. In the US, Malcolm was trying to establish the Organization of Afro American Unity as an independent Black political movement, that is, completely independent of both the Democratic and Republican parties. He rejected lesser-evilism and the two-party set up and division of labor that oversaw the capitalist system of racism, imperialism, and exploitation. “The difference between the Republican and the Democrats,” Malcolm would say, “is that the Republicans stick the knife in your back six inches, and the Democrats pull it out one.” That perspective of complete political independence and principled opposition to both capitalist parties has never since had such a powerful voice.

The absence of Malcolm after 1965 had a deleterious impact on the revolutionary upsurge of the “Black Power” movement in the late 1960s which he greatly inspired. The movement had its greatest organizational advance with the mass growth of the Black Panther Party led by Huey Newton and Bobby Seale, but the Panthers floundered and collapsed under heavy illegal government harassment and murderous repression, as well as its own ultraleftist, militaristic, cultist, and opportunist mistakes under tremendous pressure. The Panthers and the 1960s generation of revolutionary-minded fighters would have benefited greatly from Malcolm X’s political clarity, organizational skills, tactical savvy, and discipline.

A new political reality is opening up in the United States today. A new generation of youth, of all nationalities, is radicalizing and mobilizing from Ferguson, Missouri to Staten Island, New York and across the US. This has been sparked by a wave of police killings of unarmed, mostly Black and Latino, civilians and subsequent Grand Jury exonerations in clearly manipulated settings. This reality now confronts the US ruling Establishment. The framework for this new consciousness and struggle is the grotesque obscenities that now mark the so-called criminal justice system in the US, with its mass incarceration of youth, especially Black and Latino youth, the virtual impossibility of seeing any kind of justice in case after case of police killings and brutality, and more broadly the mounting impact of the permanent capitalist economic crisis, growing impoverishment, and increased working-class struggles for decent jobs and wages, against obscene inequality in education, health care, and so on. Those coming into the fight will find no greater historic champion and inspiration in the fight for their better future than Malcolm X. For those who take the time to search, discover, and study this towering human being, beautiful vistas will open up before you.

Ike Nahem is a longtime anti-war, labor, and socialist, and activist. Nahem is the coordinator of Cuba Solidarity New York and a founder of the New York-New Jersey July 26 Coalition (july26coalition.org). Nahem is a retired Amtrak Locomotive Engineer and member of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers and Trainmen, a division of the Teamsters Union. He can be reached at [email protected] with comment or criticism.

Footnotes

1.When Columbia University threatened in 1989 to demolish the property, Black community activists, Columbia students, and landmark preservationists protested vigorously and forced the University to retreat. Today the Malcolm X and Dr. Betty Shabazz Memorial and Educational Center stands in the lobby of the old Ballroom containing that portion where Malcolm X was assassinated which is now protected and restored.

2.Malcolm X never advocated, promoted or called for the initiation of “violence.” He was a personal victim of racist violence as his father was murdered by KKK-inspired racists. He was fully versed in the violent history of “American democracy” which he called “disguised hypocrisy” against African-Americans from slavery to his own time, where in face of mass struggles against the dying system of Jim Crow-segregation in the US South vicious violence was unleashed against peaceful civil rights activists. He led disciplined, peaceful struggles against police killings and brutality in New York City and Los Angeles. But he was not a pacifist and did not believe in turning the other cheek. He was for disciplined, legal, peaceful protest. But he believed in the right of self-defense. “I am non-violent to people who are non-violent to me.” “It doesn’t mean I advocate violence, but at the same time I am not against using violence in self-defense. I don’t call it violence when it’s self-defense, I call it intelligence.” “I don’t favor violence. If we could bring about recognition and respect of our people by peaceful means, well and good. Everyone would like to achieve his objectives peacefully.” “Concerning non-violence: It is criminal to teach a man not to defend himself, when he is the constant victim of brutal attacks.” These views were shamefully twisted and distorted by Malcolm X’s political enemies.

Ike Nahem's blog

1 note · View note

isdairyqueenclosedyet · 7 years ago

Text

Is Celesbian Gossip A Step Backward, Or A Sign Of Equality?

Demi Lovato during the 2017 Global Citizen Festival.

BuzzFeed News; Getty Images; Alamy

There's a musical episode of Boxed In - director and writer Amy York Rubin's very funny series of digital shorts for IFC's Comedy Crib - that kicks off with Rubin's character receiving a news alert from TMZ: Dianna Agron dishes on the unique intimacy of female relationships. Rubin, sitting in a coffee shop, gets mobbed by a group of women wondering what the news alert might mean.

Stop! Everyone stop what you're doing! one woman yells, knocking a coffee out of an unsuspecting patron's hands. A traditionally attractive female celebrity just made an ambiguous comment about her sexuality!

The entire coffee shop bursts into song - Tell your friends, spread the news, someone famous might be gay - while Rubin's character attempts to staunch the flow of their excitement.

Seriously, this is what we care about? she says. What about everything on the news?

We've got news, they sing back at her. Someone's gay!

By the end of the bite-size episode, another news alert clarifies that (a fictionalized) Dianna Agron isn't gay after all. But Rubin's character has gotten swept up in the commotion, right when everyone's just lost the faith: Wait! Did you guys see this picture of Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid?

The episode perfectly captures how easily LGBT fans can get swept up into speculation about a celebrity's sexuality - even at a time when there are more out celebrities than ever before.

The "Fame" episode of Boxed In.

IFC

Twenty years ago, before public support for gay people was anything like what it is now, Ellen DeGeneres risked her career and made history with her 1997 Yep, I'm Gay Time cover story, paving the way for many of the celebrities who have proudly claimed their queerness or openly expressed affection for their partners since. Though nowadays, you're more likely to see a celebrity casually mention their sexual orientation in a tweet or Snapchat or Instagram post than to see one more formally claiming an identity in front of the world.

But the years-long uptick in out celebrities, and the steady normalization of out queer people in Hollywood and beyond, hasn't stopped the are-they-or-aren't-they rumor mill from churning - if anything, it has only picked up steam. Female celebrities can inspire their own particular kind of fervor. In 2017, there's a new generation of famous lesbians and bisexual women (celesbians, if you will) who are casually living out a real-life version of The L Word in front of our eyes, inspiring mass social media followings from fans hungry for the latest celesbian gossip - including for the many celebrities who aren't confirmed to be sleeping with other people of the same gender, but are the subjects of constant, frantic speculation. The recent brouhaha around Demi Lovato (who's been spotted holding hands with a female DJ, and who refused to label her sexuality in a recent interview, after which she defended her decision in a series of tweets) is the latest example of the celesbian gossip train going a bit off the rails.

There is no simple, clear-cut binary of out versus in.

Whether queer celebrities have a responsibility to come out - especially those who have referenced potentially queer experiences in their work, or who have profited from the LGBT community's support - is a question that long precedes celebrities' ability to tweet about it. But that question has become more complicated in a time when coming out is seemingly not as big a deal as it once was, when a new generation is embracing ideas of sexual fluidity and eschewing labels, and, as always, there is no simple, clear-cut binary of out versus in. For female celebrities, that complication is compounded by the gal-palification of intimacy between women, which happens less frequently now in the tabloids but still makes the rounds (like it did with Lovato in September).

We're also living through yet another revival of lesbian chic - a theme in fashion and pop culture at large that paints a certain kind of edgy, feminine-leaning androgyny as the next new hot thing, boiling lesbianism down to a passing but commodifiable fad. And while positive representation of queer women on television is on the rise, it's still far from perfect, leading many LGBT fans to look to celebrity gossip on social media to get their fix of queer drama - and queer possibility. As more famous women continue to come out at younger and younger ages (much like the general population), our cultural fascination with the way they introduce and perform their queerness is only continuing to grow. Whether or not that's a good thing depends on who you ask.

Demi Lovato's sexuality has been the subject of speculation for years. While promoting her new album, Tell Me You Love Me, released late last month, Lovato gave an interview to PrideSource's Chris Azzopardi that reignited an old debate. They spoke about her LGBT activism: She's headlined pride events, including filming her 2013 video for Really Don't Care at LA Pride, and last year accepted the GLAAD Vanguard Award, which honors entertainers who have promoted LGBT rights.

But when Azzopardi mentioned that Lovato's sexuality has been thoroughly dissected on the internet, and gave her the opportunity to speak on it as directly as you'd like, Lovato swerved: Thank you for the opportunity, but I think I'm gonna pass. She explained that she chooses not to speak openly about her orientation because I just feel like everyone's always looking for a headline and they always want their magazine or TV show or whatever to be the one to break what my sexuality is. I feel like it's irrelevant to what my music is all about.

Earlier, Azzopardi had asked about the criticism her 2015 song Cool for the Summer had received from some lesbian websites like AfterEllen for, they argued, implying that women should sample queer sexual relationships only temporarily, and keep it a secret. My intention with the song was just fun and bi-curiosity, Lovato said. I think people look at song lyrics - they look too into it. I wish I could tell that website to 'chill the fuck out' and 'take a break,' because it's just a song.

Demi Lovato and Lauren Abedini on a Disney outing.

Twitter: @justcatchmedemi

The interview, published on September 15, gained a lot of attention, particularly because Lovato had just been spotted with a gal pal - a phrase that many lesbians have started to consider a sort of no-homo dog whistle for possible girlfriend - at a Disney outing a few days earlier. The gal pal in question was out DJ and producer Lauren Abedini. The two were photographed holding hands (and more), leading to widespread speculation that they might be dating. (Lovato's publicist did not respond to a request for comment.) Lovato declined to talk about her sexuality, but hinted that her new YouTube documentary coming out on October 17 might detail some things about her sexuality, because if ever I want to talk about it, I want it to be on my own terms."

But the internet really blew up after HuffPost's Noah Michelson wrote an essay declaring that Demi Lovato's Reason For Refusing To Talk About Her Sexuality Is Total Bulls**t. Lovato responded directly to Michelson, tweeting, Expectant and rude. Watch my documentary and chill out. She also tweeted a couple more general statements to her 49 million followers, which garnered her a number of you-go-girl writeups from places like InStyle and PopSugar: Just because I'm refuse [sic] to label myself for the sake of a headline doesn't mean I'm not going to stand up for what I believe in ... If you're that curious about my sexuality, watch my documentary. But I don't owe anybody anything.

How can they look us in the eyes and tell us how brave we are for being who we are - and ask us to fill their pockets - if they won't do the same?

In his piece, Michelson argued that Lovato is open about so many other aspects of her personal life - so why not this one?

Michelson told me that he has written about his beliefs that sexual orientation should not be considered a 'private' characteristic before, and it's never gone over well. But, he said, he wasn't expecting Lovato to respond, and he didn't expect so many people to misunderstand what I was saying.

Michelson believes in the political power of coming out, for all of those in a position to do so, but especially feels that those who present themselves as allies and/or make money off of their relationship with the queer community have an even greater responsibility to be open about who they are. How can they look us in the eyes and tell us how brave we are for being who we are or how proud we should stand - and ask us to fill their pockets - if they won't do the same? Michelson stressed that people can refuse to talk about their orientation, though he generally thinks they shouldn't, but the reason for it should not be 'that's private' - especially in the specific context of who Lovato says she is and claims to stand for.

It isn't only journalists, though, who may have taken issue with Lovato's message. In a June interview for Paper Magazine, out bisexual pop singer Halsey - who earlier this summer released Strangers with a fellow out bi singer, Fifth Harmony's Lauren Jauregui, and who has been a vocal LGBT activist - called out pop songs about experimental hookups, which she said perpetuate Bisexuality as a taboo. 'Don't tell your mom' or 'We shouldn't do this' or 'This feels so wrong but it's so right' That narrative is so fucking damaging to bisexuality and its place in society. Halsey didn't mention Lovato specifically, but the lyrics sound like they were plucked from both Cool for the Summer and Katy Perry's I Kissed a Girl. Lovato, at least, appeared to interpret Halsey's criticisms that way at the time, tweeting what looked like a response. (When asked for comment on the interview and Lovato's tweet, a representative for Halsey responded that the two are friends and there is no drama and no comment, pointing to Lovato's Instagram post from July showing Halsey and Lovato posing merrily together. Happy National Coming Out Day Positivity to you! she added.)

Halsey and Demi Lovato in July.

instagram.com

0 notes