#our dope future

[funsimplethings]

[supercantaloupe]

not only am i assigned to lead the LoC tour for the honors program this fall but two of my professors want to meet there to host class for a day sometime this semester. i can't escape that place even if i wanted

[cinamun]

Things Fall Apart returns in September

Three women have each reached a crossroads in this saga; one must confront her past, one must confront her present and one must confront her future.

Mercy Carruthers

After a violent confrontation with her past, Mercy took matters into her own hands. While she seeks therapy to sort through it all, there is no guarantee she won't bury everything again.

Hope Carruthers

Hope was aptly named for bringing light into the darkness of her parent's past. She embodies her name every time she or others are faced with adversity, until now. She's given everything to help her husband sort through a major revelation and as the mother of infant twins she is overwhelmed and feeling like all hope is lost. Giving up was never an option, until now.

Indira Drake

Wanting to only live the life that feels right for her, she faces losing a dear friendship. A vivid nightmare shook her to her core as one face in particular stood out among the rest.

~

Stay tuned, dearest readers, as we focus on what these women will need to endure to find peace when TFA returns.

*While we restart our saga this month, there is still time to catch up if you choose. An actual date has yet to be determined. Happy reading.

*Edit made possible by gshade, photoshop and this dope .png pack by @lexaverse

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech is a scam - and a harbinger of your future

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Next: work your way up the privilege gradient. Maybe you start with prisoners, then work your way up to asylum seekers, parolees and mental patients. Then try it on kids and gig workers. Now, college students and blue collar workers. Climb that curve, bit by bit, until you've reached its apex and everyone is living with your shitty technology:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Prisoners, asylum seekers, drug addicts and other marginalized people are the involuntary early adopters of every form of disciplinary technology. They are the leading indicators of the ways that technology will be ruining your life in the future. They are the harbingers of all our technological doom.

Which brings me to Minnesota.

Minnesota is one of the first states make prison phone-calls free. This is a big deal, because prison phone-calls are a big business. Prisoners are literally a captive audience, and the telecommunications sector is populated by sociopaths, bred and trained to spot and exploit abusive monopoly opportunities. As states across America locked up more and more people for longer and longer terms, the cost of operating prisons skyrocketed, even as states slashed taxes on the rich and turned a blind eye to tax evasion.

This presented telco predators with an unbeatable opportunity: they approached state prison operators and offered them a bargain: "Let us take over the telephone service to your carceral facility and we will levy eye-watering per-minute charges on the most desperate people in the world. Their families – struggling with one breadwinner behind bars – will find the money to pay this ransom, and we'll split the profits with you, the cash-strapped, incarceration-happy state government."

This was the opening salvo, and it turned into a fantastic little money-spinner. Prison telco companies and state prison operators were the public-private partnership from hell. Prison-tech companies openly funneled money to state coffers in the form of kickbacks, even as they secretly bribed prison officials to let them gouge their inmates and inmates' families:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/02/mississippi-corrections-corruption-bribery-private-prison-hustle/

As digital technology got cheaper and prison-tech companies got greedier, the low end of the shitty tech adoption curve got a lot more crowded. Prison-tech companies started handing out "free" cheap Android tablets to prisoners, laying the groundwork for the next phase of the scam. Once prisoners had tablets, prisons could get rid of phones altogether and charge prisoners – and their families – even higher rates to place calls right to the prisoner's cell.

Then, prisons could end in-person visits and replace them with sub-skype, postage-stamp-sized videoconferencing, at rates even higher than the voice-call rates. Combine that with a ban on mailing letters to and from prisoners – replaced with a service that charged even higher rates to scan mail sent to prisoners, and then charged prisoners to download the scans – and prison-tech companies could claim to be at the vanguard of prison safety, ending the smuggling of dope-impregnated letters and other contraband into the prison system.

Prison-tech invented some wild shit, like the "digital stamp," a mainstay of industry giant Jpay, which requires prisoners to pay for "stamps" to send or receive a "page" of email. If you're keeping score, you've realized that this is a system where prisoners and their families have to pay for calls, "in-person" visits, handwritten letters, and email.

It goes on: prisons shuttered their libraries and replaced them with ebook stores that charged 2-4 times the prices you'd pay for books on the outside. Prisoners were sold digital music at 200-300% markups relative to, say, iTunes.

Remember, these are prisoners: locked up for years or decades, decades during which their families scraped by with a breadwinner behind bars. Prisoners can earn money, sure – as much as $0.89/hour, doing forced labor for companies that contract with prisons for their workforce:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2017/04/10/wages/

Of course, there's the odd chance for prisoners to make really big bucks – $2-5/day. All they have to do is "volunteer" to fight raging wildfires:

https://www.hcn.org/articles/climate-desk-wildfire-california-incarcerated-firefighters-face-dangerous-work-low-pay-and-covid19/

So those $3 digital music tracks are being bought by people earning as little as $0.10/hour. Which makes it especially galling when prisons change prison-tech suppliers, whereupon all that digital music is deleted, wiping prisoners' media collection out – forever (literally, for prisoners serving life terms):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

Let's recap: America goes on a prison rampage, locking up ever-larger numbers of people for ever-longer sentences. Once inside, prisoners had their access to friends and family rationed, along with access to books, music, education and communities outside. This is very bad for prisoners – strong ties to people outside is closely tied to successful reentry – but it's great for state budgets, and for wardens, thanks to kickbacks:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2021/12/21/family_contact/

Back to Minnesota: when Minnesota became the fourth state in the USA where the state, not prisoners, would pay for prison calls, it seemed like they were finally breaking the vicious cycle in which every dollar ripped off of prisoners' family paid 40 cents to the state treasury:

https://www.kaaltv.com/news/no-cost-phone-calls-for-those-incarcerated-in-minnesota/

But – as Katya Schwenk writes for The Lever – what happened next is "a case study in how prison communication companies and their private equity owners have managed to preserve their symbiotic relationship with state corrections agencies despite reforms — at the major expense of incarcerated people and their families":

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-new-prison-scam/

Immediately after the state ended the ransoming of prisoners' phone calls, the private-equity backed prison-tech companies that had dug their mouth-parts into the state's prison jacked up the price of all their other digital services. For example, the price of a digital song in a Minnesota prison just jumped from $1.99 to $2.36 (for prisoners earning as little as $0.25/hour).

As Paul Wright from the Human Rights Defense Center told Schwenk, "The ideal world for the private equity owners of these companies is every prisoner has one of their tablets, and every one of those tablets is hooked up to the bank account of someone outside of prison that they can just drain."

The state's new prison-tech supplier promises to double the amount of kickbacks it pays the state each year, thanks to an aggressive expansion into games, money transfers, and other "services." The perverse incentive isn't hard to spot: the more these prison-tech companies charge, the more kickbacks they pay to the prisons.

The primary prison-tech company for Minnesota's prisons is Viapath (nee Global Tel Link), which pioneered price-gouging on in-prison phone calls. Viapath has spent the past two decades being bought and sold by different private equity firms: Goldman Sachs, Veritas Capital, and now the $46b/year American Securities.

Viapath competes with another private equity-backed prison-tech giant: Aventiv (Securus, Jpay), owned by Platinum Equity. Together, Viapath and Aventiv control 90% of the prison-tech market. These companies have a rap-sheet as long as your arm: bribing wardens, stealing from prisoners and their families, and recording prisoner-attorney calls. But these are the kinds of crimes the state punishes with fines and settlements – not by terminating its contracts with these predators.

These companies continue to flout the law. Minnesota's new free-calls system bans prison-tech companies from paying kickbacks to prisons and prison-officials for telcoms services, so the prison-tech companies have rebranded ebooks, music, and money-transfers as non-communications products, and the kickbacks are bigger than ever.

This is the bottom end of the shitty technology adoption curve. Long before Ubisoft started deleting games that you'd bought a "perpetual license" for, prisoners were having their media ganked by an uncaring corporation that knew it was untouchable:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

Revoking your media, charging by the byte for messaging, confiscating things in the name of security and then selling them back to you – these are all tactics that were developed in the prison system, refined, normalized, and then worked up the privilege gradient. Prisoners are living in your technology future. It's just not evenly distributed – yet.

As it happens, prison-tech is at the heart of my next novel, The Bezzle, which comes out on Feb 20. This is a followup to last year's bestselling Red Team Blues, which introduced the world to Marty Hench, a two-fisted, hard-bitten, high-tech forensic accountant who's spent 40 years busting Silicon Valley finance scams:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

In The Bezzle, we travel with Marty back to the mid 2000s (Hench is a kind of tech-scam Zelig and every book is a standalone tale of high-tech ripoffs from a different time and place). Marty's trying to help his old pal Scott Warms, a once-high-flying founder who's fallen prey to California's three-strikes law and is now facing decades in a state pen. As bad as things are, they get worse when the prison starts handing out "free" tablet and closing down the visitation room, the library, and the payphones.

This is an entry to the thing I love most about the Hench novels: the opportunity to turn all this dry, financial skullduggery into high-intensity, high-stakes technothriller plot. For me, Marty Hench is a tool for flensing the scam economy of all its layers of respectability bullshit and exposing the rot at the core.

It's not a coincidence that I've got a book coming out in a week that's about something that's in the news right now. I didn't "predict" this current turn – I observed it. The world comes at you fast and technology news flutters past before you can register it. Luckily, I have a method for capturing this stuff as it happens:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Writing about tech issues that are long-simmering but still in the periphery is a technique I call "predicting the present." It's the technique I used when I wrote Little Brother, about out-of-control state surveillance of the internet. When Snowden revealed the extent of NSA spying in 2013, people acted as though I'd "predicted" the Snowden revelations:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-writing-radicalized-young-hackers-now-he-wants-to-redeem-them/

But Little Brother and Snowden's own heroic decision have a common origin: the brave whistleblower Mark Klein, who walked into EFF's offices in 2006 and revealed that he'd been ordered by his boss at AT&T to install a beam-splitter into the main fiber trunk so that the NSA could illegally wiretap the entire internet:

https://www.eff.org/document/public-unredacted-klein-declaration

Mark Klein inspired me to write Little Brother – but despite national press attention, the Klein revelations didn't put a stop to NSA spying. The NSA was still conducting its lawless surveillance campaign in 2013, when Snowden, disgusted with NSA leadership for lying to Congress under oath, decided to blow the whistle again:

https://apnews.com/article/business-33a88feb083ea35515de3c73e3d854ad

The assumption that let the NSA get away with mass surveillance was that it would only be weaponized against the people at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve: brown people, mostly in other countries. The Snowden revelations made it clear that these were just the beginning, and sure enough, more than a decade later, we have data-brokers sucking up billions in cop kickbacks to enable warrantless surveillance, while virtually following people to abortion clinics, churches, and protests. Mass surveillance is chugging its way up the shitty tech adoption curve with no sign of stopping.

Like Little Brother, The Bezzle is intended as a kind of virtual flythrough of what life is like further down on that curve – a way for readers who have too much agency to be in the crosshairs of a company like Viapath or Avently right now to wake up before that kind of technology comes for them, and to inspire them to take up the cause of the people further down the curve who are mired in it.

The Bezzle is an intense book, but it's also a very fun story – just like Little Brother. It's a book that lays bare the internal technical workings of so many scams, from multi-level marketing to real-estate investment trusts, from music royalty theft to prison-tech, in the course of an ice-cold revenge plot that keeps twisting to the very last page.

It'll drop in six days. I hope you'll check it out:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

[marionluth]

What if Peter learned about Harley's existence through a phone call Tony answered in front of him? Excerpt from my Irondad longfic that serves as an adorable stand-alone of Harley-Tony goodness!

Wordcount: 887

* Peter and Tony were discussing something, when Tony's phone rang and he asked Peter if he minded answering. Peter said it was fine. He didn't regret it. *

“After a whole week of dodging my calls, sending me texts with barely-readable Gen Z slang and abbreviations, I'm borderline worried—nevertheless, happy to finally hear your voice, terrorist,” Tony sent into the phone, causing Peter to look up at him with surprised and confused eyes.

“You know what? I’m just gonna say this, and you make what you want out of it… Black bears simply aren’t eating enough people.”

Closing his eyes and letting out a breath through his nose, Tony prayed for strength and sanity, while Peter couldn’t help but snicker at the words his super hearing easily caught. He watched his mentor waiting for his answer, curiosity peaked.

“What did you do, Harley?”

“I mean… I know Rosehill is a town and all, but, dude! Climate change! Shouldn’t they, like, come down from the mountains and look for food and stuff in towns? Desperately rummaging through trash, finding nothing but our civilization's gloriously gross junk food - that even a hungry black bear wouldn’t touch - and then randomly eating a passerby?”

Peter snorted, trying to keep his amused vocalizations at the random tirade quiet, causing Tony to shake his head in terrified resignation at the inevitability of these two eventually meeting each other.

“And when I say randomly, I may or may not mean my English teacher,” Harley continued.

“What have I told you about applying yourself, Harley?” Tony asked, his resigned tone gaining an edge.

“Something that directly contradicts what you've told me about wasting my potential on frivolous things that won't matter in my future.”

“You see, Harley... The English language we're all jabbering away in, especially in those fancy colleges you're drooling over, doesn't fall into the category of frivolous things that won't matter for your future,” Tony stated.

“It's freaking Shakespeare, mech’!” Harley's voice was a whine now. “The man was crazy! A donkey-headed guy getting it on with fairy queens… I mean, come on!”

Biting his lower lip in an effort to keep himself from laughing, Tony took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact entirely with Peter, who was chuckling and shamelessly listening in to the conversation.

"Harley, we've had this chat before. You can't just bail on everything you don't like. You can’t expect you'll just breeze through school without breaking a sweat. You think MIT or Columbia will roll out the red carpet for you if you flunk everything except math, chem, and science?"

“I already got the lecture from Ava, man. Give me a break, here.”

“I'll give you a break when you give me one, terrorist. But until then, park yourself and hit the books. It's not rocket science; we're talking about fairy tales and donkey-faced characters here. If you can crack quadratic equations without even bothering with homework, I'm pretty sure you can handle Shakespeare.”

“That's torture!”

“No, Hamlet is torture. And you know what else will be torture? Whatever your mom and I come up with if you don’t start putting in some serious effort! You got a week to start straightening things out, Harl, or Ava and I will straighten you out instead. Capiche?”

“But wouldn’t it be a lot more cost-effective if you called school -all Tony Stark and shit - and demanded that I be excused from Shakespeare altogether? Oh, I know! We can make it a religious thing… Like studying Shakespeare goes against my religious dogma! That’s dope! They won’t be able to fight that if it comes from you…”

"Alright, kid, first things first: lay off the Red Bull. Second, if you put half as much effort into hitting the books as you do trying to wriggle out of this, we wouldn't even be having this chat. There's no shortcut around it. Buckle down and get to work."

“So that’s a no to my against-my-religion master plan?”

“That’s a no!”

“I hate you more than Shakespeare hated sanity,” came the resigned answer from the other line.

“Study, donkey-head,” Tony emphasized with a roll of his eyes before hanging up.

“I knew you had a kid hidden somewhere,” Peter said with a smirk.

Letting out a snort, Tony shook his head. "Harley isn't my kid, Pete. We bumped into each other a few years ago, and we've stayed in touch since then."

“That sounded like more than just staying in touch,” Peter commented, eyeing the man. “That’s how you roast me, too."

"Smooth talk, as always, Pete," Tony smirked. "I do lend a hand with Harley, but it's a bit of a different ball game. He's down in Tennessee, so it's more of a long-distance gig. The universe is not done testing me, though, and you two will get to meet. He spends some of his school breaks and a couple of weeks in summer here.”

“So you just habitually collect kids to part-time parent?” Peter asked with a small smile and a raised eyebrow.

Tony gaped at Peter as the kid’s deadpan statement registered. “I… don't have a retort to that.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

@dankempauthor, I boosted your image to share in it's own post because that is spot on. I'm also adding this writing I read a couple times a year that only those who have had blood on their teeth, and felt ALL of life for those chaotic moments of combat can know.

June 26, 2007, 3:51 PM

By Brian Mockenhaupt

I Miss Iraq. I Miss My Gun. I Miss My War.

A year after coming home from a tour in Iraq, a soldier returns home to find out he left something behind.

A few months ago, I found a Web site loaded with pictures and videos from Iraq, the sort that usually aren't seen on the news. I watched insurgent snipers shoot American soldiers and car bombs disintegrate markets, accompanied by tinny music and loud, rhythmic chanting, the soundtrack of the propaganda campaigns. Video cameras focused on empty stretches of road, building anticipation. Humvees rolled into view and the explosions brought mushroom clouds of dirt and smoke and chunks of metal spinning through the air. Other videos and pictures showed insurgents shot dead while planting roadside bombs or killed in firefights and the remains of suicide bombers, people how they're not meant to be seen, no longer whole. The images sickened me, but their familiarity pulled me in, giving comfort, and I couldn't stop. I clicked through more frames, hungry for it. This must be what a shot of dope feels like after a long stretch of sobriety. Soothing and nauseating and colored by everything that has come before. My body tingled and my stomach ached, hollow. I stood on weak legs and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. I sliced half an onion before putting the knife down and watching slight tremors run through my hand. The shakiness lingered. I drank a beer. And as I leaned against this kitchen counter, in this house, in America, my life felt very foreign.

I've been home from Iraq for more than a year, long enough for my time there to become a memory best forgotten for those who worried every day that I was gone. I could see their relief when I returned. Life could continue, with futures not so uncertain. But in quiet moments, their relief brought me guilt. Maybe they assume I was as overjoyed to be home as they were to have me home. Maybe they assume if I could do it over, I never would have gone. And maybe I wouldn't have. But I miss Iraq. I miss the war. I miss war. And I have a very hard time understanding why.

I'm glad to be home, to have put away my uniforms, to wake up next to my wife each morning. I worry about my friends who are in Iraq now, and I wish they weren't. Often I hated being there, when the frustrations and lack of control over my life were complete and mind-bending. I questioned my role in the occupation and whether good could come of it. I wondered if it was worth dying or killing for. The suffering and ugliness I saw disgusted me. But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored. And once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us. At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different. She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning.

I've spent hours taking in the world through a rifle scope, watching life unfold. Women hanging laundry on a rooftop. Men haggling over a hindquarter of lamb in the market. Children walking to school. I've watched this and hoped that someday I would see that my presence had made their lives better, a redemption of sorts. But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do something wrong, so I could shoot him. When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned. And as an American soldier, you have a very impressive toolbox. You can fire your rifle or lob a grenade, and if that's not enough, call in the tanks, or helicopters, or jets. The insurgents have their skill sets, too, turning mornings at the market into chaos, crowds into scattered flesh, Humvees into charred scrap. You're all part of the terrible magic show, both powerful and helpless.

That men are drawn to war is no surprise. How old are boys before they turn a finger and thumb into a pistol? Long before they love girls, they love war, at least everything they imagine war to be: guns and explosions and manliness and courage. When my neighbors and I played war as kids, there was no fear or sorrow or cowardice. Death was temporary, usually as fast as you could count to sixty and jump back into the game. We didn't know yet about the darkness. And young men are just slightly older versions of those boys, still loving the unknown, perhaps pumped up on dreams of duty and heroism and the intoxicating power of weapons. In time, war dispels many such notions, and more than a few men find that being freed from society's professed revulsion to killing is really no freedom at all, but a lonely burden. Yet even at its lowest points, war is like nothing else. Our culture craves experience, and that is war's strong suit. War peels back the skin, and you live with a layer of nerves exposed, overdosing on your surroundings, when everything seems all wrong and just right, in a way that makes perfect sense. And then you almost die but don't, and are born again, stoned on life and mocking death. The explosions and gunfire fry your nerves, but you want to hear them all the same. Something's going down.

For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting. Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More. More of everything. And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange. Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, and somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.

On one mission we slip away from our trucks and into the night. I lead the patrol through the darkness, along canals and fields and into the town, down narrow, hard-packed dirt streets. Everyone has gone to bed, or is at least inside. We peer through gates and over walls into courtyards and into homes. In a few rooms TVs flicker. A woman washes dishes in a tub. Dogs bark several streets away. No one knows we are in the street, creeping. We stop at intersections, peek around corners, training guns on parked cars, balconies, and storefronts. All empty. We move on. From a small shop up ahead, we hear men's voices and laughter. Maybe they used to sit outside at night, but now they are indoors, where it's safe. Safer. The sheet-metal door opens and a man steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. He still wears a smile, takes in the cool night air, and then nearly falls backward through the doorway in a panic. I'm a few feet from him now and his eyes are wide. I mutter a greeting and we walk on, back into the darkness.

Another night we're lost in a dust storm. I'm in the passenger seat, trying to guide my driver and the three trucks behind us through this brown maelstrom. The headlights show nothing but swirling dirt. We've driven these roads for months, we know them well, but we see nothing. So we drive slow, trying to stay out of canals and people's kitchens. We curse and we laugh. This is bizarre but a great deal of fun.

Another night my platoon sergeant's truck is swallowed in flames, a terrible, beautiful, boiling bloom of red and orange and yellow, lighting the darkness for a moment. Somehow we don't die, one more time.

Another night, there's McCarthy bitching, the cherry of his cigarette bobbing in the dark, bitching that he won't be on the assault team, that he's stuck as a turret gunner for the night. We'd been out since early that morning, came back for dinner, and are preparing to raid a weapons dealer. Our first real raid. I heave my body armor onto my shoulders, settling its too-familiar weight. Then the helmet and first-aid kit and maps and radio and ammunition and rifle and all the rest. Now I look like everyone else, an arm of this strange and destructive organism, covered in armor and guns. We crowd around a satellite map spread across a Humvee hood and trace our route. Wells, my squad leader, rehearses our movements. Get in quick. Watch the danger zones. If he has a gun, kill him. I look around the group, at these faces I know so well, and feel the collective strength, this ridiculous power. The camaraderie of men in arms plays a part, for sure. The shared misery and euphoria and threat of death. But there is something more: the surrender of self, voluntary or not, to the machine. Do I believe in the war? Not important. Put that away and live in the moment, where little is knowable and even less is controllable, when my world narrows to one street, one house, one room, one door.

We pack into the trucks after midnight, and the convoy snakes out of camp and speeds toward the target house. I sit in a backseat and the fear settles in, a sharp burning in my stomach, same as the knot from hard liquor gulped too fast. I think about the knot. I'll be the first through the door. What if he starts shooting, hits me right in the face before I'm even through the doorway? What if there's two, or three? What if he pitches a grenade at us? And I think about it more and run through the scenarios, planning my movements, imagining myself clearing through the rooms, firing two rounds into the chest, and the knot fades.

The trucks drop us off several blocks from the target house and we slip into the night. As always, the dogs bark. We gather against the high wall outside the house and call in the trucks to block the streets. The action will pass in a flash. But here, before the chaos starts, when we're stacked against the wall, my friends' bodies pressed against me, hearing their quick breaths and my own, there's a moment to appreciate the gravity, the absurdity, the novelty, the joy of the moment. Is this real? Hearts beat strong. Hands grip tight on weapons. Reassurance. The rest of the world falls away. Who knows what's on the other side?

One, two, three, go. We push past the gate and across the courtyard and toward the house, barrels locked on the windows and roof. Wells runs up with the battering ram, a short, heavy pipe with handles, and launches it toward the massive wood door. The lock explodes, the splintered door flies open, and we rush through, just the way we've practiced hundreds of times. No one shoots me in the face. No grenades roll to my feet. I kick open doors. We scan darkened bedrooms with the flashlights on our rifles and move on to the next and the next.

He's gone, of course. We ransack his house, dumping drawers, flipping mattresses, punching holes in the ceiling. We find rifles and grenades and hundreds of pounds of gunpowder. And then, near dawn, we lie down on the thick carpets in his living room and sleep, exhausted and untroubled.

Many, many raids followed. We often raided houses late at night, so people awakened to soldiers bursting through their bedroom doors. Women and children wailed, terrified. Taking this in, I imagined what it would feel like if soldiers kicked down my door at midnight, if I could do nothing to protect my family. I would hate those soldiers. Yet I still reveled in the raids, their intensity and uncertainty. The emotions collided, without resolution.

My wife moved to Iraq partway through my second deployment to live in the north and train Iraqi journalists. She spent her evenings at restaurants and tea shops with her Iraqi friends. We spoke by cell phone, when the spotty network allowed, and she told me about this life I couldn't imagine, celebrating holidays with her colleagues and being invited into their homes. I didn't have any Iraqi friends, save for our few translators, and I'd rarely been invited into anyone's home. I told her of my life, the tedious days and frightful seconds, and she worried that in all of this I would lose my thoughtfulness and might stop questioning and just accept. But she didn't judge the work that I did, and I didn't tell her that I sometimes enjoyed it, that for stretches of time I didn't think about the greater implications, that it sometimes seemed like a game. I didn't tell her that death felt ever present and far away, and that either way, it didn't really seem to matter.

We both came back from Iraq, luckier than many. Two of my wife's students have been killed, among the scores of journalists to die in Iraq, and guys I served with are still dying, too. One came home from the war and shot himself on Thanksgiving. Another was blown up on Christmas in Baghdad.

Thinking of them, I felt disgusted with myself for missing the war and wondered if I was alone in this.

I don't think I am.

After watching the Internet videos, I called some of my friends who are out of the Army now, and they miss the war, too. Wells very nearly died in Iraq. A sniper shot him in the head, surgeons cut out half of his skull—a story told in this magazine last April—and he spent months in therapy, working back to his old self. Now he misses the high. "I don't want to sound like a psychopath, but you're like a god over there," he says. "It might not be the best kind of adrenaline for you, but it's a rush." Before Iraq, he didn't care for horror movies, and now he's drawn to them. He watches them for the little thrill, the rush of being startled, if just for a moment.

McCarthy misses the war just the same. He saved Wells's life, pressing a bandage over the hole in his head. Now he's delivering construction materials to big hotel projects along the beach in South Carolina, waiting for a police department to process his application. "The monotony is killing me," he told me, en route to deliver some rebar. "I want to go on a raid. I want something to blow up. I want something to change today." He wants the unknown. "Anything can happen, and it does happen. And all of the sudden your world is shattered, and everything has changed. It's living dangerously. You're living on the edge. And you're the baddest motherfucker around."

Mortal danger heightens the senses. That is simple animal instinct. We're more aware of how our world smells and sounds and tastes. This distorts and enriches experiences. Now I can have everything, but it's not as good as when I could have none of it. McCarthy and I stood on a rooftop one afternoon in Iraq running through a long list of the food we wanted. We made it to homemade pizza and icy beer when someone loosed a long burst of gunfire that cracked over our heads. We ran to the other side of the rooftop, but the gunman had disappeared down a long alleyway. Today my memory of that pizza and beer is stronger than if McCarthy and I had sat down together with the real thing before us.

And today we even speak with affection of wrestling a dead man into a body bag, because that was then. The bullet had laid his thigh wide open, shattered the femur, and shredded the artery, so he'd bled out fast, pumping much of his blood onto the sidewalk. We unfolded and unzipped the nylon sack and laid it alongside him. And then we stared for a moment, none of us ready to close that distance. I grabbed his forearm and dropped it, maybe instinct, maybe revulsion. He hovered so near this world, having just passed over, that he seemed to be sucking life from me, pulling himself back or taking me with him. He peeked at us through a half-opened eye. I stared down on him, his massive dead body, and again wrapped a hand around his wrist, thick and warm. The man was huge, taller than six feet and close to 250 pounds. We strained with the awkward weight, rolled him into the bag, and zipped him out of sight. My platoon sergeant gave two neighborhood kids five dollars to wash away the congealing puddle of blood. But the red handprint stayed on the wall, where the man had tried to brace himself before he fell. I think about him sometimes, splayed out on the sidewalk, and I think of how lucky I was never to have put a friend in one of those bags. Or be put in one myself.

But the memories, good and bad, are only part of the reason war holds its grip long after soldiers have come home. The war was urgent and intense and the biggest story going, always on the news stations and magazine covers. At home, though, relearning everyday life, the sense of mission can be hard to find. And this is not just about dim prospects and low-paying jobs in small towns. Leaving the war behind can be a letdown, regardless of opportunity or education or the luxuries waiting at home. People I'd never met sent me boxes of cookies and candy throughout my tours. When I left for two weeks of leave, I was cheered at airports and hugged by strangers. At dinner with my family one night, a man from the next table bought me a $400 bottle of wine. I was never quite comfortable with any of this, but they were heady moments nonetheless.For my friends who are going back to Iraq or are there already, there is little enthusiasm. Any fondness for war is tainted by the practicalities of operating and surviving in combat. Wells and McCarthy and I can speak of the war with nostalgia because we belong to a different world now. And yet there is little to say, because we are scattered, far from those who understand.

When I came home, people often asked me about Iraq, and mostly I told them it wasn't so bad. The first few times, my wife asked me why I had been so blithe. Why didn't I tell them what Iraq was really like? I didn't know how to explain myself to them. The war really wasn't so bad. Yes, there were bombs and shootings and nervous times, but that was just the job. In fact, going to war is rather easy. You react to situations around you and try not to die. There are no electric bills or car payments or chores around the house. Just go to work, come home alive, and do it again tomorrow. McCarthy calls it pure and serene. Indeed. Life at home can be much more trying. But I didn't imagine the people asking would understand that. I didn't care much if they did, and often it seemed they just wanted a war story, a bit of grit and gore. If they really want to know, they can always find out for themselves. But they don't, they just want a taste of the thrill. We all do. We covet life outside our bubble. That's why we love tragedy, why we love hearing about war and death on the television, drawn to it in spite of ourselves. We gawk at accident scenes and watch people humiliate themselves on reality shows and can't wait to replay the events for friends, as though in retelling the story we make it our own, if just for a moment.

We live easy third-person lives but want a bit of the darkness. War fascinates because we live so far from its realities. Maybe we'd feel differently about watching bombs blow up on TV if we saw them up close, if we knew how explosions rip the air, throttle your brain, and make your ears ring, if we knew the strain of wondering whether the car next to you at a traffic light would explode or a bomb would land on your house as you sleep. I don't expect Iraqi soldiers would ever miss war. I have that luxury. I came home to peace, to a country that hasn't seen war within its borders for nearly 150 years. Yes, some boys come home dead. But we live here without the other terrors and tragedies of war—cities flattened and riven with chaos and fear, neighbors killing one another, a people made forever weary by the violence.

And so I miss it.

Every day in Iraq, if you have a job that takes you outside the wire, you stop just before the gate and make your final preparation for war. You pull out a magazine stacked with thirty rounds of ammunition, weighing just over a pound. You slide it into the magazine well of your rifle and smack it with the heel of your hand, driving it up. You pull the rifle's charging handle, draw the bolt back, and release. The bolt slides forward with a metallic snap, catching the top round and shoving it into the barrel. Chak-chuk. If I hear that a half century from now, I will know it in an instant. Unmistakable, and pregnant with possibility. On top of a diving board, as the grade-school-science explanation goes, you are potential energy. On the way down, you are kinetic energy. So I leave the gate and step off the diving board, my energy transformed.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Stardust

Astarion x Y/N - isekai drabble - 716 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: drug use (the zaza), depressed Astarion, slightly steamy (like a rolling boil), astronomy, flufffff, comfort

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

Astarion laid on the ground with a distant look in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” you said kicking him in the side lightly before sitting down with him.

He didn’t look at you, “Wallowing in self pity.” he said in a monotone voice. 

You hummed in response, poking his face. He had no reaction. You sighed before getting up and sauntering away. Astarion assumed you left him and his sour mood, alas you reappeared with a small box.

“I haven’t shared this with anybody, but it always makes me feel better.” you said opening the box and placing a joint on his chest.

He finally looked at you before grabbing the joint and sitting up on his elbows. “What is it?” he asked, sounding unimpressed. 

“Where I’m from it is technically a drug but it comes from a plant so it isn’t the worst thing ever to ingest.” you said taking the joint from his hand. You produced a small blue flame from your palm, lighting the bud. You took a long drag before holding it in a moment, You coughed a bit as you exhaled. 

“Is this what I smell from your tent every other night, darling it’s ghastly.” he said, turning his head away.

“Stop being a bitch and try it.” you rolled your eyes at him before passing the spliff. 

He brought it to his lips, copying what you did. You both went back and forth like this until the joint was finished. Both your eyes were hazy and bloodshot. You wore a goofy smile, rocking yourself a little bit. You and Astarion watched the sunset in peaceful silence.

“You’re really pretty.” Astarion said randomly, you could hear the intoxication in his voice.

You laughed when you looked at him, all doped up. 

“You’re pretty too.” you said simply. 

Astarion moved so his back was laying on your chest, you instinctively wrapped your arms around him in a loose hug. You rested your chin on his shoulder as you watched the sun disappear and the stars begin to shine. 

“What do you think is out there?” he said, jutting his chin out towards the sky.

“Space? Lots of stuff out there… stars, moons, planets, galaxies… On my world, we have managed to send machines and people into space. The machines send us back portraits of what is out there… I don’t understand it all but it is no less beautiful.” you sighed happily. 

“Humans in space? I don’t believe you.” he said, crossing his arms like a grumpy child.

You laughed at him before kissing his shoulder, “There is a planet in my solar system called Neptune, it rains diamonds there. There’s another planet named Saturn, it has rings around it. One day on the planet Venus is a year on my world…” you prattled on all the astronomy science you could recall. “Oh! My favorite fact - were all made of stardust!” 

Astarion looked at you with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrow but a playful smirk on his lips. “Are we now?”

“Yes,” you nuzzled into his neck, kissing his jaw softly. “Nearly all the elements in our bodies are only forged in the hearts of stars.” 

“You amaze me.” he turned his head, kissing your cheek. He leaned his forehead against yours, eyes meeting. You felt euphoric in this moment, the drug elevating your senses. Astarion played with your fingers for a moment before kissing your fingertips. “I’m sorry I was… unpleasant earlier. I just… I worry about the future.”

“What about the future?” you ask.

“Where you see yourself in it…” his eyes were big and gentle, “Selfless as I am, I don’t want to let you go… but I understand if you do.” 

You shifted so you could face Astarion, “I will be with you as long as you’ll have me my love.” you pecked the corners of his lips before kissing him softly. 

He held the back of your head, deepening the kiss. When you finally came up for air you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed trying to regulate your uneven breathing. “To the stars?” he said holding your hand. 

“To the stars and beyond.” you squeezed his hand reassuring him. He sighed a sigh of relief before pulling you into a kiss, laying you down slowly.

Two posts in one day???? I'm on fire babesssss. Hoping to write more over the weekend. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. <3 :D

[arislary]

Brewing Chemistry (5/5) - Han Jisung x (f) reader

Synopsis: Jisung and Reader fuck...that's literally it.

Pairing: Han Jisung x (f) reader

Genre: fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, coffee-shop au, non-idol au, meet-cute au

Rating: M(18+) MNDI

Warning: slight Dom Jisung, slight sub reader, spitting, dry humping, smut, nipple play, unprotected sex (please use protection), spit kink, making out, doggy style, pussy eating, cum eating (m & f), squirting, pussy slap (just one), just messy sex (I def missed some warnings so just let me know!)

WC: 3.6k

AN: I'm sorry, I genuinely let this get away from me. I mean they are nasty for each other smh. I am so sad to see Brewing Chemistry end! I loved these needy dopes obviously in love. Hope to write future dribbles or if you have any requests from this story let me know! UNEDITED

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3 -> Part 4 -> Part 5

Jisung’s grip in my hair turned iron and he jerked me over him again. I moaned as the roughness of his jeans and hardness grinded against my core. The only layer covering me were a pair of black cotton thongs, my skirt draped across my lap, covering his, completely drenched and leaving a wet patch, no doubt, on the front of his pants. I moaned loudly before it was cut off by a hand covering my mouth and the hand in my hair pulling my head back so my neck was bared to him. 

“Pretty, stay quiet for me for now-“ he pulled back, the dark look in his eyes from earlier returning. “Only cause were outside okay, but the second we’re behind that door, you’ll be screaming for me okay?”

I could only nod, a fuzzy cloud coming into my brain that was definitely not the weed as I was ready to do just about whatever he said, while he sucked and nipped at my neck. He growled and pulled back, holding me back when I tried to chase after him. 

“Words, baby, tell me you heard me,” the hand he had gripping my waist, moved down and gave my ass a quick slap. I jerked in his lap, gasping for air. 

“Yes,” I whispered out as he harshly bit at my neck. “Sungie, please, I need-“

“Shhhh, baby, I know-“ his hand left my hair as he trailed down the front of my chest, the veins in hands prominent. “Open your mouth.”

Immediately falling open, tongue coming out as Jisung took a second to take me in. He grunted, his feet planting firmly on the ground as he leaned forward in his seat to get closer to me, spitting into my mouth. His hand cupped my jaw, fingers keeping my mouth open to watch his spit on my tongue. 

“Swallow.”

My mouth barely finished closing as Jisung met me again in a bruising kiss, his tongue purposefully trying to transfer as much of his spit as he could. 

Our hips continued to grind into one another, hands groping and grasping. My own groping his arm, grateful he had shed off his jacket earlier inside. His arms bulged as he gripped my ass, kneading the cheeks with his fingers. 

Jisung’s ring and middle fingers tapped my lips, eyes narrowing at me. I immediately wrapped my lips around his digits, my tongue laving around them as he growled in my ear. 

“I need them wet, pretty-“ he slowly circled his hips, his mouth falling open at the mess between us “just as wet as I can feel that you are. You’re soaking me, fuck you’re dirty.”

I keened as he shoved his fingers deeper into my mouth and began to mimic what it would be like if he fucked me with them. His other hand left my ass, moving up to my chest, under the cropped black long sleeve I wore. His fingers pinched at my lace covered breasts, pulling at my nipples harshly. 

“Sungie- I can’t-“ I mumbled around his fingers, hips moving sloppily over his, my hands wrapping around his wrist. When he felt they were sufficiently wet, he popped them out of my mouth. I could feel my cunt clenching on empty air at the sheen of his fingers. His eyes meet mine, a silent question in them. I could feel the heat burn through me, throbbing at the affection. 

I led his hand down where I wanted him, his fingers skimming the outside of my panties. His mouth dropped open, eyes hooded as he swiped his finger through my covered slit, rubbing at the wetness. 

“Fuck, you’re drenched-“ his fingers maneuvered under the fabric “I want to taste you, so badly, pretty-“ and the first touch had me hunching forward, the loud moan that escaped is quickly silenced as his lips found mine. I had never kissed someone the way Jisung kissed me. I didn’t want it to stop. It should be alarming to have felt so right with someone having only known them for such a short time, but Jisung felt like everything to me. It felt all consuming his tongue licked into my mouth at the same time his fingers began to tease at my entrance. 

“Don’t- Don’t tease me, baby.”

I could feel Jisung’s breath stutter at the nickname and his two fingers slipped inside, the intrusion having me convulse in his lap as he started to thrust his hand upwards, curling his fingers slightly. I gasped, head falling forward to rest on his shoulders. His other hand finding my chest again, pinching at my nipples and squeezing the loudness of my breasts. I turn my head into his neck, mouth opening to suck at his neck, desperate to leave something on him. 

Jisung groaned, his fingers picking up speed as I sucked hard at his neck, my tongue laving at the spot to sooth it only to scrap my teeth over the same area. 

The pressure built, the tingling in my belly as I shook in his hold. Mouthing at his neck as he brought me closer and closer to the edge. 

“S-Sungie, I- I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me, ______.”

The dark growl of my own name did it as my jaw dropped, a silent moan releasing as I spasmed around his fingers, still knuckles deep inside, gently rubbing my walls. It was rare I ever came from penetration alone, only happening with my toys as my past partners never finding the spot. 

Jisung’s hand that wasn’t inside of me, ran gently up my body, squeezing every so often as if he needed to reassure himself I was there. He slowly pulled his fingers out of me, leaving me whining at the loss, craving for more. I expected him to wipe his hands on his pants, but sound of sucking had me straightening up, eyes wide to stare as he sucked his fingers while maintaining eye contact with me. His brown orbs blown wide, almost black from the desire. 

His eyes rolled back as his hips rutted upwards, a low moan falling out as his fingers fall from his mouth, tongue coming out. His piercing gaze met mine and before I knew it, I leaned forward, letting a dribble of drool fall down into his mouth. He swallowed as we continued to stare each other down, chests heaving. 

He shot upwards, arms securing me to him as he moved us inside, shutting the balcony door behind us. Our lips were bruised, but continued the pursuit to devour the other whole. He walked down the hall, towards the only other bedroom in my apartment, my hand reaching behind us to open, desperate to not part from him. 

He dropped me to my feet slowly, hands sliding up my body as our kiss turned lazy. My hands slid down to the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping underneath. He leaned away to lift his shirt over his head throwing it somewhere else in the room. My gaze drifted down to the lean muscle, fingers gliding across his chest, causing him to release the neediest of moans. 

“Baby, please, can I taste you?” 

My mouth parted as I hurriedly nodded, shedding my own shirt and bra, turning to get on my bed. Just as I began to crawl towards the middle, a loud groan sounded before a pair of hands flipped my skirt up and a face was pressing against my covered cunt. I gasped falling forward onto my elbows as Jisung dug his face further into my pussy. 

“Jisung!”

“‘M sorry, babygirl, you just looked so good from behind,” I whined as he began mouth at my slit, tongue give kitten licks to my clit, causing me to soak the fabric further. I wailed and shoved my hips back further into his face, his hands with a bruising grip to keep me secured to him. 

His fingers descended down, pulling my underwear with them, leaving me hissing at the cold air. I watched as he pocketed them in his pants and raised an eyebrow while he stuck his tongue out at me, hands going back to my ass. Jisung parted my cheeks to get a better view, leaving me flushed and whining. 

“Don’t stare.”

A quick slap fell on my right cheek. I yelped and turned my head more to catch Jisung’s dark eyes locked on me, almost glaring. 

“I’m being show the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen and you don’t want me to look?” He lunged forward, face digging back in my cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in day, mouth sucking harshly at my clit, teeth lightly scraping. I shrieked, gripping the sheets and falling into the bed with my face, suffocating myself. 

A hand trailed up my back, pulling at my hair to lift my face up. 

“I need to hear you, baby. Hear how good I eat your pussy, fuck you taste so good, I’m gonna do this every fucking day.” 

My thighs shook as the familiar clench and heat shot through my stomach. Jisung’s fingers met where his tongue was plunging into my aching hole, the slick wetness dripping down my thighs onto the bed. The added circle of fingers to my clit, I lost all strength, my arms dropping to my side. Jisung’s arm wraps around my thigh, similar to a headlock and drags me closer to him. He kneels on the bed, bringing me almost eye level with his large jean clad bulge. 

“Ji- I’m gonna, I-“

“Cum, baby.”

More intense than before, I’m blinded by the pleasure. Ears ringings as the faint slurping sounds and squelching fill the air. Jisung moaned as more wetness gushed out onto his face, his hips rutting forward and hitting me in the face causing me to clench again, my desire skyrocketing. 

He slowly laid me back down, turning me on my back. He shucked off his pants and underwear, coming to lay back over me. I was able to catch a glimpse of his dick, the length and thickness making my mouth water suddenly, fuck I need him inside me now.

His eyes met mine and a smile grew on his face. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I wrapped my legs around his waist, bringing him closer to him, causing his length to slide against my cunt. Our mouths both dropped open in a low moan, our hips moving to continue the slide together. Jisung meets my eyes, fingers pressing my chin down to keep my mouth open as he spits inside. I play with it on my tongue before swallowing. Jisung stares down at me in wonder, eyes sparkling. 

“Where have you been all my life?”

“Where have you been all my life?” I bring his head down and meet his lips in a tender kiss, my other hand reaching down, hand slipping up and down his dick, thumb spreading the pre cum dripping from his tip around. I guide him forward, circling my hips as he stutters in my hold. Jisung’s hand comes down to mine, guiding together. 

I whined as he entered slowly, nails digging into his back as his head leaned down, lips wrapping around my left nipple. One of my hands trailed up, nails raking through his hair, pulling hard after he began to teeth at me. Jisung suddenly thrusted forward, all the way to the hilt. 

I moaned loudly, Jisung grunting as his hips began to thrust into me rapidly, arms going under my legs to draw me closer. He moved his mouth to my other nipple, giving it the same attention. My hips moved up to meet his, the tightening in my core and heat spreading throughout my body. 

I wanted this man. 

I wanted this man badly. 

I could feel an overwhelming need and yearning at the thought of waking up next to him. Cooking breakfast together. Being kissed goodbye as he leaves for work or kissed hello when he comes home. I could imagine working together, each doing our own thing, but desiring to be in each other’s presence. I could imagine everything with him. 

“Oh Sungie- fuck- yes, ungh more!”

“More? You want more baby?” Jisung’s fingers came down, moving fast over my clit as his other hand pressed down on my abdomen slightly. I screamed as a gush came out, eyes rolling back, stars taking over my vision. I squirted. Definitely never having done that before with any partner. 

Jisung was laying kisses all over my face as I came to, his hands running up my body, pinching my nipples.

“And to think I thought you couldn’t get hotter,” he suddenly pulled out, flipping me onto my stomach. He straddled my thighs, lifting my hips and entering me suddenly from behind. I groaned at the sensation of being filled over and over. Jisung thrusting so deeply into me that I could feel him just kissing my cervix. 

“Sung- Sungie,” I whimpered, hands reaching behind me. Jisung reached down, and pulled me up, back flushed against his chest, not ceasing his thrusts. 

“Baby, oh fuck- yes you were made for me pretty-“ he groaned, teeth, scraping against my neck “fucking tight little cunt fitting perfectly around my dick. You like that baby? You like how I fuck you?”

I moaned out, nodding my head, the smallest bit of drool coming out as he continued to fuck into me with abandon. 

His hand came down, slapping against my clit, a shriek leaving my lips. 

“Words, princess, I’ve told you before.”

“Yes! Sungie, I love it! I love your dick.”

He growled in my ear, one hand moving sharp circles around my clit while his other hand moved up around my throat. 

“Fuck baby, your mine, this pussy is mine, do you hear me?”

“Y-yours!”

Jisung quickly pulled out, pushing my back down as he jerked himself over my ass, streaks of white coming out to paint me. Jisung got off the bed, pulling my hips with him, legs touching the ground. He turned me on my side, bringing my leg to come rest over his shoulder, before entering me yet again. 

My eyes shot open, unable to believe he was still hard after how hard he had cum. I wailed, nails dragging down his chest, catching at his nipples. He yelled out a curse, leaning forward, almost bending me. 

The bruising speed that he fucked me at imprinting itself into my memory. Each thrust was like a testament to how he felt. He drag of his hard dick against my wet walls left me desperate for more. 

“Fuck- yea you’re mine and I’m yours.”

And with that, I was left cumming again, screaming out his name as the pleasure finally overwhelmed me. Jisung pulled out of me, bringing me down off the bed to my knees. My mouth fell open, lips wrapping around his length, hands coming up to slide up and down as he finished in my mouth. He pulled away, eyes expectant as I opened my mouth for him. He groaned at the sight, thumb rubbing my bottom lip. He spit once more in mouth, finally allowing me to swallow. 

He quickly pulled me to my feet, sealing my lips with his. His finally softening dick lightly brushing against me, causing me to shiver from the overstimulation. Jisung’s hand came down to my ass, squeezing my cum dried cheeks. 

His tongue ravished my mouth, licking at any of the remnants of himself. I whined as his fingers ghosted back down to my slit, teasing my swollen slit. 

“Sungie, ‘m sensitive,” I pouted.

“Oh you’re sensitive, baby?” He pouted back at me, the mocking in his tone causing me to blush and shuffle closer to him. “What a dirty girl too? You couldn’t even wait for my dick huh?”

I shook my head, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as he lifted me up to wrap my legs around his waist. 

“Oh my poor baby, so dirty,” He walked us towards the bathroom, sitting me on the counter. He moved to my shower next, making sure the water temperature was right. I watched him, the way he moved with such ease around my apartment, my space. Like he belonged. 

“Jisung.”

He hummed, moving back towards me to bring me inside the shower. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Jisung tripped on the bathroom rug, his hands catching himself on the counter. I flew forward, hands coming to rest on his shoulders to steady him. 

“Fuck, _____, you can’t ask that!” 

I gaped at him, hands leaving his shoulders to cross my arms over my chest, boobs pushing together. 

“Why the hell not! Didn’t you want to be a couple?”

“Of course!” He pushed closer, lifting me into his arms and bringing me into the shower. “But I wanted to ask! I wanted it to be romantic, not with my cum drying on your ass.”

“But I like your cum on my ass.”

“Fucking hell, baby-“ his head is leaning against my shoulder as the warm water runs over us. 

Jisung refused to let me do anything. Wanting to wash my body, to hold me close as I was finally able to wash his. He reached for the fluffy towel once we were finished to dry us, carrying back to the bedroom. He dropped me on the bed pulling the covers back as we crawled under. 

I quickly moved to into him, almost draping myself on top of him. It was silent for a moment, his fingers going up and down my back, my own making circles on his stomach. 

“My answer is yes by the way.”

I shuffled around, head moving up to make eye contact with him. His eyes were gleaming and he had a wide smile on his face. I sat up, moving my legs to straddle him, the brightest of smiles coming onto my face. 

“Wait, for real?”

“In my mind, we’ve been a couple since that night at the club,” he rolled his eyes, the smile not leaving his face as he brings me down to kiss me. I moved my hips, hissing as I can he feel his dick hardening from between my legs. I slowly grind down, rubbing him so he rest between my lower lips. 

Our breaths became harsh, as we moved faster. He moved back, his gaze dark, mouth open. 

“Baby, we just showered, I don’t want you to get dirty again.”

I whined, humping hard onto his dick, feeling the glide against my clit. Falling forward as my mouth sucked on his chest. The grip he had me turned hard before one of his hands moved down, slapping his dick against me a few times before pushing up and catching my hole. 

His feet planted on the bed as he pushed into me all at once. I held onto him as he continued to fuck slowly up in me, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

“You’re so beautiful, _____, my beautiful baby,” I cried out from his words, desperate to keep contact with him the closer we reached to our peaks. 

This one felt different than before. Still as passionate, but without the fast pace of it all. I could still feel each drag of his length inside, throbbing and pulsing as I fell back to meet each thrust. 

The soothing orgasm washed over me, leaving me shaking on his chest as he continued to pump into me. 

“Baby, I got- fuck- I need to cum, please,” I moved up, sliding down his body, feeling him slip out of me. I continued down until his dick reached my mouth again. He rutted his hips upwards, hand coming up to rest on the back of my head. 

I hummed as his hot cum poured into my mouth, quickly swallowing every drop. I continued to lick him clean, until he had to pull at my hair, whining at me. 

“Aww, is my baby sensitive?” I cooed at him as he blushed, hands trying to pull me up to him. I kissed my way his body, nipping at his bottom lip before pressing a softer kiss to soothe it. 

“I really like you, Jisung.”

He beamed at me, hugging me close to his body. 

“I like you so so much, you don’t understand how many songs I’ve written about you.”

“Really!” I laughed pulling up slightly to smile at him. 

“Baby, you’re my world now,” I melted in the spot and laid back down, snuggling into each other. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up the next morning, I felt sore all over. Stretching myself from under the comforter, moving my hands to feel for Jisung only to find the spot empty. I jolted upwards finding the room empty, except for our clothes still across the floor, the only thing missing were his boxers and jeans. 

I grabbed his black shirt, pulling it over my body, jumping as a loud noise sounded from my kitchen. I ventured out and found a shirtless Jisung standing over my stove, the smell of coffee, bacon and eggs filling the air. I slowly trailed my eyes down his body, eyes flashing to the fabric peeking out from his pants. 

“Sungie?”

He whirled around, eyes wide and cheeks full, having just stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth. He smiled at me, dragging me closer to him by the arms to leave a bacon-greased kiss against my lips. I hummed and licked at him, sucking lightly at his bottom lip. 

I pulled away, my fingers trailing down his spine before reaching his butt. I patted his pocket, a smirk present on my lips. 

“I think my panties are still in your pants.”

“Did someone say coffee?”

[sialater18]

Just watched Kingdom of the Planet of the apes in IMAX and wow, I LOVED ITTTTT

Highlights for me (spoilers below):

Story bits;

The intro with Caesar’s funeral, just straight to the real sobering stuff. Almost like the movie is saying “Caesar is gone. Now witness what life is like after him and what others do in his name”

The Eagles, they’re just dope animals

When Noa, Anaya, and Soona are out hunting for eggs they make note of not emptying the nest. It’s likely tradition at that point in their village but I like how even though the “bonding” is obviously a significant point in their lives, they don’t let it override what they know is right. Hence why Noa climbs a higher point for another nest.

The sequence of Noa and his dad trying to work together to fight off the Gorilla even though the Gorilla is way out of their league. They both tried hard but were beaten, not just physically but in terms of knowledge. Noa at some point climbs onto a support beam but it’s made of metal and the Gorilla electrocutes the beam he’s on which causes him to fall

The fact that Raka (and Caesar’s more devout followers) call humans they see “Nova” . Little Nova from War of the Planet of the Apes was not completely forgotten in a way :’)

Mae. Especially in the moment in the observatory where she looks through the telescope and gets emotional (which is the first sign that leads Noa to believing she’s more than what she seems). I know some people don’t/won’t like her but I can understand her. She’s in a rough place trying to do what she thinks is good. I believe in her last talk with Noa, on the topic of humans she said something like “It was ours (the planet I think) first!” just instinctually, and when Noa asks about the possibility of apes and humans living side by side again, she says I don’t know.

Proximus’s clan killed the entire group of humans she was with and she only barely managed to escape. And the only indication that he regrets what happened is because he didn’t realize they were “special” humans. He’s regretful of the choice because he was not aware of their possible use to him and his goals. So yeah Mae, doesn’t know, hence why she was at first holding the revolver in her hand when she last spoke to Noa. She initiated them talking, after everything they’ve been through she wanted to say a proper goodbye to him but still held the revolver in case something happened. I honestly want to see more of her

Proximus himself. Whoo I needed more if him, he was such a large joyful figure when we see him, getting his clan all hyped hope and being outwardly positive to them in face of a public failure. The fact that he likes being read Roman history, he probably learned of his namesake. I like his acknowledgment of the “proper” definition of evolution. He knows he won’t reach it since evolution takes a long time & he knows of his own mortality. So he instead wants to evolve in a different way with tools he believe is for him and his people.

He has two humans in his kingdom. He welcomed them both, but he’s not likely to trust them as far as he can throw them. He’s focused on the future apes evolving, hence why he keeps bringing apes into one place for his “Kingdom”. The future he pictures is not one of peace as long as humans are still around. So why not get the numbers of Apes up in the meantime? Even when one of his men is shot, he prioritizes not his dead clan member, but a new existence firearm weapons that can be of use to him

Noa’s first “shit” he learned from Mae and then repeating it later when they almost fall to their deaths and Mae just nodding in approval like “yeah that was the right time to use that word” loll

Mae using her first round with the tiny revolver she had against the ape who had a knife to Soona. I’m betting she planned the opposite of letting the apes know a more advanced form of weaponry exist right there in then in the silo. But her want to not see Soona come to harm (partially because of her) won out against whatever logic she was going with

The Flooding sequence in the silo I couldn’t bring my eyes away from. The one thing about this movie was the tension, maybe I’m just a wimp but I was exceedingly tense for the characters. Even when Proximus was simply speaking at the dinner table he had me tense

The fact that Noa & Mae didn’t have a happy little bow on their relationship by the end of it. I wanted them to be attached to each other or just trust each other but life doesn’t work like that often

The entire last 3 minutes or so the film was just particularly astounding to me, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it was the music (the score for the film is stellar) and the editing but something was just so right about it. Seeing the joy at humans contacting other people. The juxtaposition between Noa & Mae moving on to the next stages of their lives.

Technical stuff:

The sound design was magnificent

The cinematography was beautiful, really interesting shots throughout the film

The vfx was hella impressive

The music score was great and added a lot to the movie

All in all, all I’ve got left to say as Proximus would put it, WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY!!

[allwormdiet]

Shell 4.1

As much as I wish Taylor could ride this high forever, unfortunately looks like it's back to school

Taylor. Honey. Dearheart. You keep being really complimentary about your bullies' physical looks, and this does not in any way undermine the hurt they've done to you or your resentment thereof, but it does muddy the waters a little bit as to whether resentment is the only thing you're feeling

The back-and-forth actually feels so refreshing compared to every previous interaction with the bullies, like. My god. Did Taylor just have to rob a bank to get the confidence she needs to not worry about these fuckers? I never thought that John Dillinger therapy would take off but maybe there's a future in that

Better the devil in plain sight than the devil you can't see at all.

John Dillinger therapy! This is what I'm talking about! Let's go Taylor, show that inner strength! Shed the burden!

I mean hell, maybe, or maybe this is an upturn where she finally gets sure enough in herself to get these jerks off her back forever. We'll see how it plays out, right?

The idle speculation on Mr. Quinlan is a little wild but well in keeping with my own experiences. Sometimes teachers just passively generate rumors around them.

This one stupid bit about John Dillinger therapy keeps paying off, this is great, real joke investment opportunity

Honestly Taylor I think you can feel bad about it while also living with it, I'm not gonna pretend to be some expert on morality or philosophy or whatever but I feel like you're allowed a certain number of felonies after enough suffering in your life

Technically not a career boost for the Undersiders, at least not as far as public renown, but making your enemies look like clowns is just as good if not better. Like yeah, those tools on the other side are getting their pay docked because of that bigass hole in the roof of the bank, and you're way richer from the same event

Expanding our understanding of the city a bit more, and honestly this sounds dope as fuck. I'd love to visit every once in a while and just soak in the culture, although not if it meant living in Brockton Bay. That seems. Bad.

Ugh, these kids

Honestly I'm not quite this hardcore but damn if it isn't a mood. I've yet to see proof of Rachel being wrong

Yeah I know she had her dogs attack Taylor, Taylor's an aspiring snitch, it's okay to maul a snitch

I think I knew this part already but honestly I'm more excited to have Rachel lore than anything

I wonder how much leniency can be provided for crimes that happen in the immediate aftermath or because of a trigger event. Maybe not a ton, or maybe enough to get away with murder. I'd be curious to learn more about that, if it ever comes up.

And uhh, yeah, that'd fucking get you dead bodies alright. Wonder if that's why she's so hardcore about the training, making sure that never happens again. Entirely for the dogs' benefit, or only mostly and then there's some part of her that thrives with that kind of control?

Alec you cheeky little shit, you're endearing yourself to me

Honestly Taylor, just try and breathe easy for a little bit, I don't think you've been able to do that in over a year. Take your time, enjoy your walk on the wild side.

Maybe I'm biased but I love these two interacting on their own, so I'm fully in favor of this plan Lisa

Well I'm sure if Lisa ever killed anybody they deserved it, or if nothing else she arranged circumstances so that they ended up deserving it after some mild provocation

it's fiiiiiiiiine

Current Thoughts

This story has such good slice of life, I want more of it every time and every time I get cut off before I'm satisfied. Is that on purpose? If that's on purpose Wildbow might be a more sinister intelligence than I'd thought.

School segment was so blissfully short and Taylor managed to fight Emma to a standstill so this is a huge improvement over every other second she's spent at school

If Rachel ever kills anyone on purpose they deserved it, and if Rachel ever kills anyone on accident it's okay bc everyone makes mistakes

Honestly I'd be willing to accept any of these kids as having a good reason to render someone cadaverrific. Brian and Lisa have good heads on their shoulders and at this point I'm starting to suspect that the lazy gamer thing Alec has going on is like, at least partially a front for a deeper personality, and he's trying to be shallow on purpose, so idk what that means for him being a killer but I somehow doubt he's a fucking Hannibal Lecter type when we're not looking

...Actually come to think on it the only two members the Protectorate has info on is Grue and Bitch, right? Tattletale is an unknown and Regent has almost nothing about him. I'd suspect Grue to be the second killer but I'm not sure if that's a red herring.

Find out eventually, I guess.

...I might have another chapter in me before sacking out for the night. We'll see.

[funsimplethings]

[dgaftilwedie]

SCOTT PILGRIM TAKES OFF WAS FUCKING NUTS AND I WANNA BE ANNOYING N TALK ABT IT BC I LOVE SCOTT PILGRIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT OBVS XD

OKAY SO??? THE FACT THAT THEY LITERALLY SET UP THE FIRST EPISODE LIKE IT WAS GONNA BE JUST LIKE THE COMICS N THEN SCOTT "DIED"????? literally had me questioning fucking EVERYTHING i was watching that episode with the most quizzical look on my face?? also the fucking funeral scene was hysterical bc the way rammy n knives were abt to have a verbal face-off n envy's bitchass shows up n steals the whole show?? i have such a love-hate relationship with her.............

also lucas lee is fucking adorable and i love him :33 rammy becoming friends with roxie n making up with her after everything was something i really needed to see. cuz like for as much as i loved the movie n the comics, i feel like they could've done their relationship so much better. like seeing ramona take responsibility for hurting roxie made me so happy and im so glad they got a redemption arc.

ROXIE IS LITERALLY ME BTW??? her whole interaction with ramona n kim at the end kf the episodr was so silly N THE LEG LOCK HELLO????? also the way she walked off singing the HAMSTER DANXE SONG I LOCE HER

the toddlace thing was also so unexpected but holy shit?? i loved it. bi todd has been my fav headcanon for YEARSSSS and seeing jt happen right in front of my eyes?? WATCHING THAT EPISODE WAS SUCH A TRIP THO I CAN'T STOP QUOTING WALLACE'S "LINES? TRAILER?" BITS BC THEY'RE SO FUNNY

uhmmmmm what elseeeee OH YEAH young neil is a fucking goof n i love him, i really like that gideon (gordon ig 🙄) became like this not evil guy who just lived with julie n kicked it with lucas. the old scott stuff kinds fricked with me but i think it's cool that he became chill with the twins

LMFAOAO THAT SCENE AT THE END WHERE SCOTT'S TRTING TK FIGJRE OIT WHY HE CAN'T KISS RAMONA N HE TRIES TO FIGHT THE TWINS AND THEY'RE LIKE "our robot says we become bros in the future, so we have no intention of fighting you. see ya bro ;)" WAS SO SILLY

obligatory matt mention i love him he's so dumb i love that he took over gideon's entire empire only to turn around and change his mind :3 glad he got his broadway moment....... silly pirate headass

knives n stephen becoming the best brother/sister duo ever was so dope bc like. knives had someone to look up to n make music with n they had a lot of chemistry both personality wise n musically wise

my only critique is that i wanted more lisa ;^; i know she probably would've been out of place but it would've been cool if kim mentioned her to ramona and ramona interviewed her just like she did with her exes yknow :P she was one of my fav characters in the comics n she wasn't in the movie AT ALL so i was hoping she would've appeared in the anime, but alas 😞😞 i also kinda wanted to see where kim's love life went...... i know she's not the focus but she had undeniable chemistry with knives and that moment with roxie... i love that she's totally very queer and open to the idea of experimenting with girls n i wish that would've been expanded upon like how todd n wallace had their moment :33

other than that, i LOVED the anime. i love how we got baited into thinking it was just like the comics and i love what was done with it :3 it was such a goofy show and a lot of it was so jaw-droppingly surprising that i couldn't believe it, but it also had some really sweet, serious, n heart-warming moments which is something i really appreciate in a show :33 it's hard to keep watching something for so long but i binged the show in one day xD i'd give it a solid 9/10 (deducting points just for the sake of what i think was missing and how i don't recommend it for like "beginner" fans)

oki rant concluded!!!!!!! ^___^ there's so much more i wanna say but this is already sooooooo long as it is xD

[d-criss-news]

delanymcc: What a week it’s been as supporting vocalists for @ darrencriss‼️💯🔥 your humility is everything and so personable. Obviously if you’re a true Glee and Broadway fan you should know who he is. Thanks for the laughs, reassurance, and making this such a great experience for me/Us.

Additionally, I finally got to meet even more people I’ve loved from a virtual sense like @ fantasia (who tore the stage both in rehearsals and live like she always does) such a true honor meeting you and your wonderful star team.❤️❤️

@ thedennisreedjr you’re the man🔥💯👏🏾 don’t change your energy was everything my guy…keep elevating and killing it. Hope our paths cross again in the near future!

@ misschloeflower slayed on the pianos🔥🔥 thanks for your dope aura and masterful gift.

@ sheilaedrummer I looooveeee and honor you for all you’ve contributed to Music and the world in general. You’ve trailblazer a path in music both females and males glean from. Thank you for being you and for the love you put out in the world. ❤️❤️

@ sistersledgeofficial LEGENDARYYYY!!!! Im sure everyone has danced and sang to y’all’s catalog, whether they know it or not lol. @ sledgedebbie you and your daughter @ camillesledge honestly made this backstage experience a joy. It was amazing to see those as accomplished as yourselves remain so personal and approachable (rare these days). We were cutting up with Camille all week lolol. I love yalll. Looking forward to seeing yall again❤️

Shout out to all the amazing artists and @ july4thpbs team that made this such an impactful and memorable concert that I’ll never forget. ❤️🔥🔥🔥🔥

Lastly Thanks to these two amazing singer that stepped in last mins changing plans and schedules to make this experience a great one. @ mizz_tx you already know your my sister for life! I’m excited for all that’s coming your way because you deserve it. I got you 💯‼️ @ yayae_music thank you for your support this weekend…it was great meeting you and connecting🙏🏾. Keep pushing and striving for the stars🔥🔥🔥🔥

Thank to everyone in my corner that continues to support and believe in me…trust and believe, I’m gonna make it exactly where I’m destined to be with God. #acapitolfourth

[uenodivision]

Rap Guerrilla (Remix) (Great Eight Ver.)

[Kai, Ren, Chinami, & Sanyu:]

This is Hypnosis Mic!

[Ririko, Yuuya, Mina, & Kanon:]

Are you ready? Then let's go!!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

[Kai:]

The DJs on the decks, bringing music back to life

From opera to turntables, I've conquered every strife

Changing the game, feel the spirit in the sound

For my family and Japan, Veenyle will always stand his ground

[Zakari:]

Icarus in the sky, taking risks to feel alive

Luck is on my side, just watch me soar and dive

Spreading my wings, I've no fear of the fall

In this game of life, believe I'm gonna bet it all

[Mireya:]

Hey yo, nightlife queen, I'm the Gypsy in the scene

Vegas to Roppongi, my Palace still reigns supreme

Overcame my past, now I'm shining real bright

Fuck with me or my family, you'd better be ready for a fight!

[Ren:]

In this city of mine, dark romances come out to play

Kobe Division: Lovesick, we'll turn the night into day

From strumming for change to dreams that fiercely grow

I'll pave my way to the top, let the legacy of Vox show

[Kaiji:]

Crafting dreams with flair, and cosplaying with style

Oh, you're feeling cute? Well, let me charm you with my smile

Fair warning, fuck with Jinx, and bad luck will knock on your door

It's not temporary, but a curse, always coming back for more

[Max:]

In the wild woods, where the deadly shadows creep

Ōkami the Wolf is here, with the many secrets I keep

I may have lost my past, but I've found my call

In this deadly game, your death, I will not forestall

[Kai:]

Music is our bond, but the battle inevitably draws near

[Ren:]

Respect in both our hearts, but it's time we face our fear

[Kai:]

Each beat that we drop is just another story to tell

[Ren:]

May the best team win, let's give them all hell!

[Kai:]

The darkness blinds us, but in the distance, I see one light

[Mireya:]

Together with our family, we wield this one mic

[Zakari:]

Live the best you can; you only have one life!

[Zakari & Kaiji:]

Never gonna stop, we're never gonna stop (Hey!)

[Kaiji:]

Look around the town, there's so many bright lights

[Max:]

Who will be the one to seize Glory's spotlight?

[Ren:]

Enough talk and words. It's finally the show time!

[Leaders:]

We'll take you to the top

Welcome to the DOPE World!

[Chorus:]

Hypnosis Mic, do or die

We’ll snatch the top clean, we’re the rap guerrilla

We’ll show you what’s what, so ride on

We are the No. 1 hip-hop tribe y'all!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

[Kira:]

On this stage again, justice is in my sight

Uncovering truths, even through the darkest night

I may have left the army, but my mission remains the same

Harm either of my sisters, and you'll catch the Huntress' flame

[Chinami:]

Though I'm blind, I see the future, quite clear as day

I've no time for games, so please step out of the way

Life's a journey, and I refuse to dwell on the past

Pay heed the words of Oracle, only the true will last

[Taria:]

What's up, bitches?! The Misfit is here to play!

Ra-ta-ta, dance or get the fuck out of my way!

First opponent? Good, step up! Come on, don't be shy

You got something to say? Well, c'mon, I'm ready to fly!

[Sanyu:]

In Fukuoka's heart, where the outcasts play

MC Rogue here, redefining the way

Normal's a lie, society's cruel jest

Rejecting their norms, we're the ones truly blessed

[Tasuku:]

What's up?! The One-Eyed Bastard's here, cards in my hand

One glance from this eye, and you'll quickly understand

Fate's a joke. Thanks, but I'll make my own way

In the casino or in life, Katame is here to stay!

[Ming:]

Ah, the children, how sweet and pure

Innocent hearts, their love is the cure

Good child, good child, Miss Ming's here to call

For you and my family, I'll rise and protect you all

[Chinami:]

We stand for our cities, our families to defend

I bear you no grudge, but in this battle, I will not bend

[Sanyu:]

With strength and resolve, we will win the day

In Fukuoka's name, MIHANASA will slay!

[Chinami:]

The darkness blinds us, but in the distance, I see one light

[Kira:]

Together with our family, we wield this one mic

[Taria:]

Live the best you can; you only have one life!

[Taria & Tasuku:]

Never gonna stop, we're never gonna stop (Hey!)

[Ming:]

Look around the town, there's so many bright lights

[Tasuku:]

Who will be the one to seize Glory's spotlight?

[Sanyu:]

Enough talk and words. It's finally the show time!

[Leaders:]

We'll take you to the top

Welcome to the DOPE World!

[Chorus:]

Hypnosis Mic, do or die

We’ll snatch the top clean, we’re the rap guerrilla

We’ll show you what’s what, so ride on

We are the No. 1 hip-hop tribe y'all!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

[Ririko:]

Pushing forward, shining bright, we're here to light the way

2Cute's here, bringing joy, making marks every day

With BittASweetZ, the three of us, together, we'll definitely go far

No matter where we are, we'll shine just like a star!

[Shu:]

Lock-on, eyes heavy, but I'm still in the game

I'm running on fumes with no sleep, but it's all the same

Curtains rise, narcoleptic will push through the night

For my team and city, I'll fight, though I'm losing the light

[Alice:]

Cherie on the mic, designs in my heart

Beauty begins when you start to play your own part

In BittASweetZ, we find just where we belong

Together we're strong, our dreams will carry on!

[Asahi:]

(That's right!)

Crafting dreams with care, bringing joy to all to share

Feeling hungry? I'll cook some treats that are oh-so rare!

Springtime blossoms, wishing and bringing hope that is anew

In this battle, I'm SWEET-T. And I'm coming straight through!

[Yuuya:]

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a step

Stop midway and turn around? That, I will not accept

With deer guiding me, through the forests we roam

Just follow ARROW's lead, and we'll soon be back home

[Saigo:]

In the dark shadows where the undying truth unfolds

Tsukumogami's here, with many stories that are untold

Forsook my wealth. Why? I don't need it to survive

No matter the perils, Miraitabi will thrive

[Ririko:]

The darkness blinds us, but in the distance, I see one light

[Shu:]

Together with our family, we wield this one mic

[Alice:]

Live the best you can; you only have one life!

[Alice & Asahi:]

Never gonna stop, we're never gonna stop (Hey!)

[Saigo:]

Look around the town, there's so many bright lights

[Asahi:]

Who will be the one to seize Glory's spotlight?

[Yuuya:]

Enough talk and words. It's finally the show time!

[Leaders:]

We'll take you to the top

Welcome to the DOPE World!

[Chorus:]

Hypnosis Mic, do or die

We’ll snatch the top clean, we’re the rap guerrilla

We’ll show you what’s what, so ride on

We are the No. 1 hip-hop tribe y'all!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

[Mina:]

Do you copy, can anyone hear me calling right now?

Who am I, and why was I made in this horrible way?

'Mina Murray, will you continue to scrounge like some scavenger?

Or will the light of the sun do away with you, someday?'

[Elliot:]

Placing my words with care, I hope that they all rhyme

In Nature, this is where Nanashi finds his time

In this world of chaos, I quietly hope to seek and find

The love for all Earth's creatures, the most noble kind

[Yorii:]

Oh yeah, it's going down now, feel the beat that's in your feet

Sireen's here, making music that's oh-so sweet!

In this life we have, we'll sing every day

Come on, forget your worries; let's just dance and play!

[Sakura:]

Looking down on you, I sneer at your pathetic sight

In Shizuoka's underworld, Renegade owns the night

You fucked with the Kito-gumi? Bang! A bullet to your head

Let that be a lesson: oppose me, and you'll end up full of lead!

[Reika:]

In the shadows, wealth and power I claim

You may call me Belladonna, try to remember the name

With poisons and charm, I rigged the entire game

That's why no matter the opposition, I won't ever be tamed

[Kanon:]

Look at you, another failed experiment in my sight

Mz. Hyde's vengeance, no sentiment, just might

Chuohku's lies, I'll expose them all with precision

In this lab of revenge, you will all fall to my vision

[Mina:]

You think that you know me bitch, but I will not be denied

Come near me and my brothers, and I will bleed you fucking dry!

[Kanon:]

Better fit for experiments, what an angry, rabid dog

In the grand scheme, you're barely worth to be called a cog

[Mina:]

The darkness blinds us, but in the distance, I see one light

[Elliot:]

Together with our family, we wield this one mic

[Yorii:]

Live the best you can; you only have one life!

[Yorii & Sakura:]

Never gonna stop, we're never gonna stop (Hey!)

[Sakura:]

Look around the town, there's so many bright lights

[Reika:]

Who will be the one to seize Glory's spotlight?

[Kanon:]

Enough talk and words. It's finally the show time!

[Leaders:]

We'll take you to the top

Welcome to the DOPE World!

[Chorus:]

Hypnosis Mic, do or die

We’ll snatch the top clean, we’re the rap guerrilla

We’ll show you what’s what, so ride on

We are the No. 1 hip-hop tribe y'all!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

[Kai:]

Roppongi's light, we shine so bright

[Ren:]

In Kobe's heart, we own the night

[Chinami:]

Ota's wisdom, guiding our fight

[Sanyu:]

Fukuoka's strength, we'll set things right

[Ririko:]

Nakano's charm, with dreams in sight

[Yuuya:]

Nara's journey, our path is tight

[Mina:]

Setagaya's mystery, hidden from light

[Kanon:]

Shizuoka's power, the Great Eight's might!

[Chorus:]

Hypnosis Mic, do or die

We’ll snatch the top clean, we’re the rap guerrilla

We’ll show you what’s what, so ride on

We are the No. 1 hip-hop tribe y'all!

[Great Eight:]

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Hey! Whoa-oh-oh oh-oh-ohhh

@kobedivision @ota-division @fukuokadivision1 @nakanodivision @naradivision

@setagaya-division @shizuokadivision

[antiradqueer]

Hey tumblr.

It's Luna, or more, someone of us who has no clue who they are right now. We feel like the embodiment of being sick and tired and just so done.

We have been thinking long and hard about what to write in this post or if we even want to make a post like this, but now that we're typing out these words, we don't know why we put it off so long.

We are permanently fucking off from the radqueer discourse. We can't take it anymore and we don't care anymore. We've lost all empathy and sympathy for everyone and everything involved in this shitshow, no matter which side they're on. The reason for this is not that we suddenly are neutral, we are still anti-radqueer, but we are so burned out and just start to dissociate the second we open the tags or see a radqueer post in the wild. We're naturally low empathy to begin with, but now every last ounce of that is completely gone when it comes to this topic, plus we just... don't care anymore. There's the 100th transnazi popping up? I don't care. Another "cisabuser" in the tags? doesn't matter. whatever. We're not a bad person, we are just done. We can't keep on doing this or this will eventually throw us into depression again and that might literally kill us. and I'm not going to let that happen.

when I think about radqueers, I feel so much anger, frustration and sadness - or more, that's what I felt. now all of that is just drowned by a dark cloud of tiredness and nothingness.

so, this is our goodbye. Knowing us, we will probably still roam the tags sometimes and depending who is fronting, some of us might even interact with discourse still, but like, officially, we are gone. (@ mod mew: if you could let us still have access to this account that would be dope af tho!)

I will also use this post to to encourage every anti-radqueer who's fighting tooth and nail to get blogs taken down and people banned, to step back for a minute, take a deep breath and think about if you really want to keep on doing this. we thought this would never take a mental toll on us, yet here we are. I'm not saying what you're doing is wrong, but I'm saying that maybe you could use your energy and will to fight for something else.

let's face it, radqueers will never be an actual threat to society. they are pathetic, sad people, hiding behind their screens, screaming "the future is radqueer!" over and over, but in reality this "movement" will burn to the ground eventually and they will go down with it.

do people get hurt in radqueer spaces? yes, they do and that's horrible (just a note as to how bad it's gotten with us: I write this and logically know that yes, it IS horrible - but I feel absolutely nothing. In all honesty, I currently don't care if people get hurt or not, because I can't care. it's like our brain shut off all emotions regarding this topic to protect ourselves). and I'm not saying you should stop offering them help, but I think you can stop worrying about the radqueers taking over society or whatever. if you feel this taking a toll on your mental health, please put yourself first. protecting your health and your life is always, ALWAYS more important that fighting strangers on the internet.

okay, in case you don't think of us as a total asshole with a heart of stone now and are interested in our plurality- and alterhumanity-focused tumblr life, here's out brand new system blog: @the-exodus-fleet And also our hosts blog: @talks-with-the-void

Take care of yourselves and thanks for every kind word and all the support we've got along the way /gen

PS: if any radqueer reads this and wants to celebrate this as a win or whatever, go ahead. if you need this to feel some joy in your sad, miserable little life, I'm not stopping you.

PPS: I still genuiely hope all radqueers eventually come to their sense and leave this bullshit ideology behind

PPPS: and to all radqueers who hide behind this label to abuse and groom other, I hope you lose all your friends and your family over this. you deserve no happiness.

[omegaremix]

Finds For 2016.

Diet Cig “Scene Sick”

Tame Impala “New Person Same Old Mistakes”

Cold Cave ft. Black Rain & Genesis P. Orridge “Comprehension”

Computer Magic “Be Fair”

George Clanton “Notice Me”

Prurient “Dragonflies To Sew You Up”

Tropic Of Cancer “Stay Safe”

Mssingno Scope

Blanck Mass “Atrophies”

Holydrug Couple, The “Follow Your Way”

Russell Haswell “Spring Break Extended“

In Aeternam Vale “Dust Under Brightness”

Sophie Product

Consumer Electronics Dollhouse Songs

Blanck Mass “Dead Format”

Hibou “Above Us”

UXO self-titled

Follakzoid “Directo Al Sol

Moon Duo “Free Action”

Tearist Living: 2009-Present

Deerhunter “Ad Astra”

Beliefs “1992”

Ducktails “Don’t Wanna Let You Know”

Tame Impala “Nangs”

Candy Snatchers, The “If You Can’t Have Fun, You Ain’t Fun” (live)

Shana Falana “There’s A Way”

DOM “Burning Bridges”

Girlpool “Before The World Was Big”

Holydrug Couple, The “Paisley”

Ash Koosha “Harbour”

Dystopian Future Movies “Paint It Red”

Angry Angles “Things Are Moving (All The Time)”

Polysick “Smudge Hawaii”

Kleenex “Nice”

18+ Fore

Innsyter “Cut Eleven”

Airliner “Her Crutch”

Clams Casino “Drawn” (Crim3s RMX)

Com Truise “Silicon Tare”

Crim3s “Stay Ugly”

Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers “Born To Love”

Imaginary Pants Kites At Night

Ana Lola Roman “Klutch” (Com Truise RMX)

Costavision Lo-Fi Exotica

Coachwhips “UFO, Please Take Her Home”

Rubs, The “Runaway”

Airliner “Left Orange”

Sheer Mag “Fan The Flames”

JK Flesh Rise Above

Gigi Masin“Tears Of A Clown”

Reatards, The “You Ain’t Fun No Mo’”

Hussy, The “You Know”

Home “Resonance”

TR/ST “This Ready Flesh”

Pastel Ghost “Clouds”

LNDN DRGS “Dope Sick”

Ata Kak Obaa Sima

Hailu Mergia & The Walias “Yemiasleks Fikir”

Christoph De Babalon “Surreal Mirrors”

Gigi Masin “Fata Morgana"

John Carpenter Lost Themes Remixed

Veldt, The “Sanctified”

Zola Jesus “Collapse”

Merzbow & Keiji Haino & Balazs Pandi “How Differ The Instructions Of The Left From The Instructions On The Right”

Cults “Oh My God”

Vektroid “Neo Cali”

FOE “Genie In A Coke Can” (Alec Empire RMX)

Peaches “How You Like My Cut?” (Ziur RMX)

Tex Taiwan “Algorhythm Vision”

Jagwar Ma “Uncertainty” (Mssingno RMX)

Odesza “It’s Only” RMXs

Honeyblood “Sea Hearts”

Connie Laverne “Can’t Live Without You”

Kedr Livanskiy January Sun

Body-San “Shining The Money Ball”

C.V. Jorgensen “Ghetto Svend”

9th Wonder & Buckshot ft. Talib Kweli “Hold It Down”

Uniform “Symptom Of The Universe”

Czarface ft. Vinnie Paz & Cappadonna “Shoguns”

D.I.T.C. “Rock Shyt”

Lizzy Mercier Descloux “Fire”, “Wawa”

David “Baby” Cortez “Happy Organ”

Low Red Center s/t

Alan Turing “God Save The King / Baa Baa Black Sheep / In The Mood”

Dolly Parton “Jolene” (33 RPM)

Tobacco “Gods In Heat”

Pere Ubu “Blow Daddy-O”

La Coka Nostra “Waging War”

Elusive Textures

Technicolor Skull “Technicolor Skull”

Hanin Elias ft. Electrosexual “Hold Me”

IKO 93 “Drag” / “Mutt”

Innsyter Poison Life

Bloom Offering “Bite Their Tongues”

Jlin “Downtown”

Sandro Brugnolini & Stefano Torossi “Effetto Notte”

Comet Gain “(All The) Avenue Girls”

Nick Klein “Anxiety Plae”

Le Matos “Eyes Throat Genitals”

Bill Loose “Slight Misgivings”

L-Fudge Chronic Irresponsibility

Author & Punisher “Lust For Scales”

Sun Ra “The Cosmic Explorer”

Liquids Hot Liqs

Ice Cream Love, Ice Cream

Khost “Deathset” (Godflesh RMX)

Ramleh “Airborne Babel”

L-Fudge ft. DJ Spinna, Shabaam Shadeeq & Talib Kweli “What If?”

Caroline K “Tracking With Close-Ups”

Rosa Yemen “Herpes Simplex”

Jonas Reinhardt “Androma”

Sunrise Ltd. “Our Love Will Grow”

Tearist “Headless”

Red Fetish “Spanish Meths”

Hot Chocolate “Could Have Been Born In The Ghetto”

Vibrators, The “Disco In Moscow”

York Factory Complaint Lost In The Spectacle

Nick Klein I’d Rather Sit Alone