#they never overtly canceled it

[wraenata]

Hey! BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.

Aw thank you so much! You are just the sweetest! This is so nice to receive today because I definitely don't feel beautiful right now.

Thank you again love you! /platonic <3

Hope you are having a lovely day! You deserve it!

[cherrybr4t]

what she wants, she gets - seungcheol (+18, mdni)

WARNINGS: kind of a toxic rs, smut, tit playing, tit slapping, unprotected sex, choking, daddy!cheol, oral (f rec), reader may not be the most sensible, dom!cheol, sub!reader (f), they r so insane for each other! ceo!cheol

<3 not comfy don’t read! but…HAPPY 400! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! hope u guys enjoy this! muah 💋

“swear to god baby, open the god damn door, please!” seungcheol feels his hands burn, from the incessant knocking and pounding of your door.

you hear every grunt and curse clearly—standing right behind the door, clad in your pink robe, glass of wine balancing dangerously between your fingertips.

“i know you’re standing right behind the door, let me in,” seungcheol runs his hand across his locks, frustration lacing every word. “you’re gonna regret this baby.”

“oh, that’s rich coming from you cheol, i’m the one that’s pissed at you right now—surely i won’t be regretting anything.” you finally decide to bite back.

“you being pissed at me doesn’t warrant you to fucking block your own fucking boyfriend, and what the fuck were you doing on mingyu’s story?” another bang across your poor door.

thank god seungcheol had arranged for only top quality products to be furnished throughout this apartment he’d gifted you a year ago.

“yeah well—you can go and cry about it to your other bitches, i’m sure someone would love to listen to you and offer you some comfort” you faked cooed—you were not going to let this one slide.

“baby—what the fuck are you talking about? you know i don’t even bat an eye at anyone else…everyone fuckin’ knows how i’m fucking obsessed with you, i— you know it too baby!” you hear how his voice starts to strain, and you know he’s right.

ever since you both were linked, it was like an otherworldly connection that only you and him could comprehend.

soulmates—if you must. equally bat shit crazy; crazy for each other at least. well, as what they always say, negative cancels out negative right? together, you and cheol swear nothing else could feel more right.

you came to him on a hazy friday night, and he finally had a face to the name he’s been hearing thrown around the office floors. he’d been captivated by you the minute he laid his eyes on you—in your velvet black dress, donned in silver jewelry that brought out the sparkle in your eyes.

—and, what seungcheol wants, seungcheol gets. by the end of the night, he finds himself removing your jewelry, having you writhe under him, screaming and moaning the whole night, and he’s not sure if you’ve fallen for his trap, or he yours.

it must’ve been love at first sight, he always tells you.

he’s everything you ever wanted, the possessive, ever so passionate man that never takes no for an answer. he made you feel alive, made you feel like you were worth trashing the world for.

some call it insanity, but you weren’t any better. which leads to why you were in your current predicament—you were livid.

it’s not like cheol wasn’t allowed to be around the female species, just not the pretty ones. and especially not if they wear extra short skirts and extra red lips around your boyfriend.

yeah yeah…it’s not like he could avoid female employees, especially being a young and an extremely attractive director, next in line for the CEO position.

the new influx of female employees with the new batch of hires were something else, flocking towards your boyfriend blatantly every chance they get.

he may have just been doing his job to facilitate but—did he have to cross the line with his overtly friendly nature? not necessary, you think.

and you loved to play the game. blocking him all over your social media—only for him to lose his mind when he sees you dancing on mingyu’s instagram story at the club downtown.

you know how much he hates when you hang out with your guy friends, especially ones with a certain playful nature—mingyu.

to say he went berserk would be an understatement. you grin behind the door, the taste of satisfaction at the tip of your tongue, knowing you got him back.

“baby, fuck, i’ll get rid of all of ‘em—whoever it is—fuck, they’re gone by next week” and who are you if not someone that falters at such sweet words from your beau’s mouth.

that click of a door makes him sigh out a breath of relief before he immediately engulfs you in a tight embrace, stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

“you’ll really fire them for me babe?” your eyes soften as they look up into his, and he swoons at how pretty your eyes are, admiring your current docile state—when you’re not being batshit crazy.

he carefully removes the wine glass from you, placing on top of your black coffee table which he chose, before grabbing your cheek and pulling you in for a sloppy passionate kiss.

“anything for my baby, you are the future wife of the company’s soon-to-be CEO after all.” he smirks, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“and what she wants, she gets,” he whispers before pulling your lips towards his before you could say anything else.

his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, tugging your own tongue playfully and soothing out every bite he gives your lower lip.

“my baby—you look fuckin’ gorgeous. i can never let you stay angry at me, hmm?” he pecks your forehead.

“gonna remind you why you’re mine and i’m yours baby,” he peppers feather kisses down your jaw tenderly.

“yeah? think i need to put my little brat in place, remind her why daddy only loves her, and how daddy only has eyes for her,” he kisses down your clavicle and sucks on a hollow spot which makes your knees buckle.

“mmffh—cheol….” you know it, you’re excited for it. you love it when he reminds you how obsessed he is with you.

“wonder what’s waiting for me underneath this pretty pink robe,” he gently tugs at the string of your little bow tied at the front.

a second later and your ribbon unravels, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the sides, and cheol lets out the most animalistic groan when he sees you completely bare and supple for him.

“so fucking pretty yeah?” he pushes you up against the nearest flat surface he can find, hands moving in urgency, grabbing any flesh of yours he can fit in those big hands of his.

you whine out as you feel his calloused hands squeezing your tits so hard, while his mouth gets busy along your jaw again. but those lips can’t stay away from your tits—he starts sucking and slurping all over—marking your mounds as you pull tightly on his locks, sinful moans after moans falling from your lips.

he breaks apart from your tits and you pout.

“my pretty girl, hands up for me.” he grabs your wrists and places them above your head and you keep them there.

“so good for me,” he sinks down and kisses all around your glistening cunt, making you squirm unconsciously. he holds on to your hips, before diving in fully, inserting that warm pink muscle deep inside your cunt you knock your head back against the wall, letting out the breathiest moan.

“pretty girl is all mine. my cunt, my tits, my girl, the prettiest.” he breathes out before he swings a leg over his shoulder and continues devouring your leaking cunt. his tongue curls up and like a deranged animal it plays with your g-spot frantically. he moans around your cunt so deeply, before he moves up and sucks your warm and swollen clit, teeth grazing every few seconds.

“cheol—too fast too fast—i’m gonna cum soon daddy,” you feel yourself reach your breaking point sooner tonight.

“that’s all i want baby, cum all over my face for me. i’m all yours to cum on,” he switches between the insane speed of his tongue and hard suction of his lips and the ribbon inside you unravels before you know it.

you let out the loudest string of moans, shaking as you clench and let out all your juices all over his face and his tongue.

cheol closes his eyes and soaks in the heavenly moment he wants to last forever. he takes in everything—your scent, your taste and continues lapping on your cunt to suck you dry.

you whine before grabbing his locks, pushing away due to oversensitivity. he looks up at you with glistening lips, and your stomach churns at the sight, feeling a new pool of arousal forming again.

he stands up, eye to eye with you, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’re so fucking perfect baby, no one should dare to even stand next to you.”

he leans forward, rubbing his clothed bulge against your soaked cunt. “you feel that baby? only you can do that to me, i just need a thought of you and i go fucking insane,” he grabs your hand, guiding it to his huge bulge.

you rub teasingly above the fabric before smirking at him knowingly, “you like me that much?”

“baby, i love you so fucking much—even i can’t comprehend it. swear i’ll die without you,” he leans his forehead against yours, with an arm propped up on the wall beside your head.

you rub faster, enjoying the moment of cheol unraveling just by a touch from you.

“swear i’ll die if you don’t touch me now—and if i’m not inside you right now baby, need you,” he breaks out in desperation and you give in, unzipping and allowing him to step out of his pants.

wasting no time, he gets rid of his boxers and goes over to the couch to sit down, tapping his thigh twice, you immediately shuffle over to sit on him, warm cunt hovering over his growing cock.

“don’t tease baby, told you i need to be inside you now,” he grabs your waist before aligning your cunt to slowly sink down his red cock that’s bursting with veins, feeling like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t feel you wrapped around him.

“f-fuuuck,” you moan out, stomach twisting at how good cheol feels when he’s fully inside you, and you start to ride him, chasing that impending high that you know is coming.

“baby—you feel too fucking good, s’unreal,” cheol croaks out as he grips onto your hips tighter, guiding your pace, not wanting to come in you too quickly.

his wandering hands move on to playing with your swollen tits, your nipples so puffy from earlier it drives him crazy, “so pretty, so fucking sensitive for me always, fuck,” he tugs on them, eliciting a louder whine from you.

his keeps a hand on your tits, occasionally giving it light slaps across and he salivates at the way it jiggles. another hand reaches up, wrapping around your neck which looks too clean for him.

your face contorts in an unexplainable pleasure, and he knows he’s got you at you tipping point. “cheol—daddy, squeeze harder,” you prompt him, wanting him to push you over the edge faster.

“yeah? my little slut wants daddy to go harder? you dirty girl, my dirty girl though— my pretty dirty girl,” he groans, hands squeezing tighter at the pulse points, while he strikes one tight slap across your tits and you can’t stop moaning.

he can’t stop singing praises for his pretty baby, and all he wants is to express how much he adores you every second.

“so close daddy so close, wanna cum wanna cum,” cheol snaps his hips up faster, while maintaining the pressure around your neck.

“gonna make you cum so hard around daddy, then pump you full of daddy’s cum after—show you how much daddy loves you, yeah?” he revels in the way your voice breaks at the incessant amount of moans escaping your mouth.

“gonna cum—daddy can i cum now?” you bit down on your lips, feeling something in your lower abdomen growing and growing, threatening to spill over any minute.

“my pretty baby always so polite—yes baby, cum for daddy now,” and you let go, seeing white as you convulse and jerk around him, crying out his name repeatedly.

his grip around your neck holds you in place, “fuuuckk that’s it baby, let daddy see how hard he made you cum,” cheol will never get tired of watching you cum—especially when it’s around his cock.

“gonna let daddy pump you full now baby? i’m about to cum okay baby,” he starts to snap his hips up even rougher, before releasing a hot load inside of you with a groan and you moan at the feeling as it reaches deep inside you.

“fuuuuck, that’s it baby, take it all, take all of daddy’s cum yeah—you’re mine baby,” he moans out, panting as the last few drops paints your walls with his essence

cheol’s heart swells at the thought of you being so full of his cum—full of him. he thinks there’s no other way to express that you’re fully his other than this act of claiming.

he kisses you, stroking your cheek and uttering words of affection against your lips—and you feel that all is right with the world again.

WANTED IT TO BE LONGER THAN THIS! will be writing more of this au!! but for now,, thank you guys so much for 400 again!! can’t wait to be putting out more works soon! love u guys xx 🖤💋

perm taglist: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t have any words right now for what’s happened. Where in the fuck do we go from here?

I don't know. I really, truly don't know. We can't sugarcoat how bad things are going to get, and we can't pre-emptively give into it anyway. This is going to be an unprecedented time in American history (if, sadly, not world history) and the forces conspiring to make you obey will gain much of their power from you doing so in advance, without a struggle. It seems fair to say that America as it has always been historically constituted is over, and may not return in our lifetimes, but we also do not know that for a fact. If nothing else, the fascists will find it very hard to cancel competitive elections, and we cannot sit back, throw up our hands, conclude that voting is clearly meaningless, and let them do that. There are a lot of other things that we need to do, but that's one.

There are various postmortems to be written and nits to pick, but Harris was thrown into an impossible situation and did the best she could in 100 days. Even her critics agree she ran a pretty much flawless campaign. But this country simply decided that a well-qualified black woman could not be preferred over the most manifestly and flagrantly unfit degenerate to ever occupy the office. They decided this for many reasons, not least because large swathes of the country now live in curated misinformation bubbles that, under Government Czar Musk, will only get much, much worse. They were helped by the cowardice and complicity of the "mainstream media" that could have ended Trump's career exactly like they did to Biden after the first debate, but chose to preserve the profits of their billionaire oligarch owners and did not do so, giving Trump the benefit of the doubt and normalization at every turn. They also hounded Biden relentlessly over the four years of his presidency, never reported on the good things he did, and drove him to the historically bad approval ratings lows for a president who was by any metric, quite successful (and will quite possibly be our last ordinary American president for a very long time). Along with the searingly ingrained racism and misogyny and misinformation, Harris could not overcome that.

Democrats clearly had a messaging problem, but it's also true that the country, quite simply, does not care about "democracy" when the economy is perceived to be at stake. Not to over-egg the Hitler parallels, but yeah. This is how Hitler returned to power in 1933 -- on the backs of widespread economic collapse of the Weimar Republic; voters decided they just didn't care about the overtly fascist stuff, which he then proceeded to you know, do with genocidal vigor. Except the American economy in this case was actually doing well, which makes it even more baffling and indefensible. Enough people simply memory-holed Trump's crimes (aided at every turn by SCOTUS, Mitch McConnell not convicting him after January 6, Merrick Garland being far too slow and timid, the corporate media), liked the racist fascist behavior or felt that it wasn't a dealbreaker, and decided that in this election, he was the "change" candidate. It's insane by any metric, but that's what happened.

The country is deeply sick. We do not know what will happen. It's going to get bad. Barring a miracle, we will not have federalized abortion rights again in my lifetime, and there will be widespread attacks on public health, women's rights, immigrants, transgender people, and other vulnerable people. Even and especially the ones who voted for Trump. Never Thought Leopard Would Eat My Face, etc. Alito and Thomas will swiftly step down and allow their seats to be replaced by 40-year old wingnuts hand-selected from the worst the Federalist Society has to offer. SCOTUS is gone for the next generation at least. There is very little prospect of it being ever fixed in the foreseeable future.

Trump will never face a scintilla of consequences for his previous crimes; all the open federal cases will be closed as soon as he takes office and fires Jack Smith. The best we can hope for is that he dies in office, but then we get Vance and the cadre of alt-right techno billionaires ruled directly from the Kremlin. Putin is celebrating this morning and with good reason; he's gotten everything he wants. Trump will egg on Netanyahu in Gaza and abandon Ukraine. Democracy across the world will remain even more fragile and badly under threat. Authoritarians will be empowered and American withdrawal from international systems will percolate in very dangerous ways that cannot and will not be fixed in the short run. I really hope all the leftists who celebrate this as the "defeat of the genocide candidate" will enjoy all the genocide and suffering that's about to come. And yes, I do think the Israel-Palestine war fucked us in a large way. Jewish voters perceived the Democrats as insufficiently pro-Israel due to the presence of far-left antisemitism, even as the far left attacked the Democrats relentlessly and never targeted the Republicans. Arab voters abandoned them, possibly deservedly. What would have happened without the war? We don't know. You get the historical period that you get. Netanyahu and Trump can now do anything they want. Hope it was worth it.

As I said, I can't sugarcoat it. We are going to be paying for this in some form for the next decade, and probably longer. I'm not as absolutely shattered as I was in 2016, but I am much, much angrier. We all thought, we all hoped, America was better than this. It isn't. That, however, is something that has also happened before. What we decide to do next will shape how the next chapter unfolds.

This would be a great time to stock up on needed medicines, renew your passport online, and anything else you need to do in preparation for next year. Many of us simply do not have the wherewithal, whether financial or otherwise, to leave the country. I don't know what will happen with me. I don't know what will happen to any of us. This was utterly avoidable and yet, America didn't want to avoid it. At some point, there's nothing else you can do. You can point to media cronyism, Russian influence, etc etc., but the fact that two of the most qualified presidential candidates who happened to be women have now lost to Trump twice makes it unavoidable. The virulent rightward shift of young men (of all races) in particular paints a grim picture as to how the reactionary misogyny of the 21st century is going to essentially undo most of the progress for social and gender equality in the 20th. The patriarchy has been a problem for most of human history. Doesn't really seem like it's going to change.

The end result of this, however grim: we're still here. We are still living within our communities. If (and this is a big if) Democrats can retake the House, they can put some checks on the process for the next two years. At this point, we are in full-out buying-time, trying-to-prevent-the worst mode. We could have continued fixing things, but we won't be doing that. We will only be trying to preserve ourselves and our friends and our smaller spheres of influence. It sounds very trite to say that we have to have courage, but we do. There's not much else.

It's going to be an awful winter. We have two and a half months to see this coming and know how bad it's going to be, and... yeah. I don't know how soon the buyer's remorse will inevitably set in, but it will. Tough luck, people. You voted for him. You get the country that you decide to have. But the rest of us are also here, and what Gandalf says is still true. We wish the Ring had never come to us, we wish none of this had happened, but we still have to decide what to do with the time that is given to us.

I don't have a lot more. I'll probably be logging off for a while. I don't need to look at the internet for.... yeah, a long time. (Will I do it anyway? Probably.) I don't know what else to leave you with, aside from again:

Do not obey in advance. Do not act as if everything is foreordained and set in stone. Fascist regimes end. They always do. We are going to have to figure out how, and it will suck shit, but the alternative is worse.

Take care of yourselves. I love you.

[whatbigotspost]

Given that SCOTUS has anointed the office of the presidency as a monarch role beyond all reproach (so that when 45 wins in Nov as they are intending), and we’ll never have another presidential election, I wish that Biden would assume lame duck status IMMEDIATELY, call their bluff, and start issuing executive orders like crazy now through January 2025.

He could do shit like defund the military and pour the funds into social services, repeal all nationwide laws/restrictions on abortion, make all healthcare including all reproductive services and gender affirming care accessible, instate UBI and Medicare for all, write a 100% tax rate on billionaires, push sweeping environmental protections, break up monopolistic megacorps, close federal prisons, expand and pack the court, cancel all student/personal/medical/non corporate debts, open our boarders, decriminalize all drugs, etc. etc. etc.

Maybe then the 6 block justice set of 45 worshippers would see what they’ve done.

Maybe then, if Biden immediately, decisively even did 10% of that, he might not lose the election.

Of course, he’d actually have to give a shit about any of those things in order to do this.

And that’s the whole fucking point, right? He won’t. And it’s why we’re here.

Democrats hold themselves to “the rules” only to the extent they’re spineless liberals who are in the same big money pockets as republicans. The key difference being, they let republicans be the ones to more overtly, proudly kill us all and act powerless to stopping them.

When our structures demand they are the ONLY ones who could stop them. I can’t take it anymore.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Hiraeth III

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You had always been his, and no one could take you away from him. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Slight age gap, Murder intention, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: 4kish words. I hope you enjoy, my love :)

Masterlist Hiraeth II

“I love you.”

Your brows furrowed as the deep slumber of drowsiness slowly eased off from you. You could feel the heat beside you, could hear the soft, baritone voice near your ear. You didn’t want to leave that feeling, in between the consciousness and ignorance, where you could be just you. Where you could just exist. Where you could freely forget.

“I love you.”

Slowly and with great reluctance, you opened your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect, or why you were disappointed and perhaps, a little relieved to see the space beside you empty.

He must have left.

You groaned when you remembered how hard you cried last night. You were never able to remember your nightmares. You only remembered the feelings it gave you- the helplessness, despair, longing, terror, and loneliness. But for the first time, you weren’t alone.

Seokjin was there.

And you didn’t know what to make of that.

You spent years forgetting him. You spent years without his overbearing influence in your life. And now he was back like an unstoppable force, leaving you confused and defenseless against him. You didn’t like it.

You sighed before deciding to finally do what you were sent here to do. You grabbed your phone and called your boss.

“You abandoned me,” you accused strongly once you heard his overtly cheerful voice. You sat up angrily and walked out of the room. It seemed that the owner himself wasn’t home with how silent the house was. Finally, you were alone. You felt like you hadn’t been alone since you returned and now that you were, you could gather your thoughts that were scattered because of him.

“Whatever do you mean, my favorite employee?”

“You told me everything was taken care of! How come no hotel was reserved for me?” You shot back, walking further to the kitchen uncaring of how you looked… or how little you were wearing. If it weren’t for his short sightedness, you wouldn’t be in this position. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be confused by Seokjin. So yes, you were blaming your boss.

“What are you talking about? I really did book you! I wouldn’t leave my favorite employee homeless countries away from home!”

You rolled you eyes at his dramatics as you opened the refrigerator. You grabbed a bottle of water before gently closing the door. “Here I still have the confirmation email. I’m forwarding it to you now.”

You frowned as you read the email. He wasn’t lying. Was it the hotel management’s fault? Was it merely an oversight?

“Honey, unless someone cancelled your reservation, I don’t think your name should be missing from their list-“

Your steps halted when you met Jin’s cold eyes. You could still hear your boss talking over the phone, yet all your focus was on the man standing a few feet away from you. You didn’t know why you felt like hiding your phone, but the way he looked at you made it seemed like you should. The way he was looking at you made it seemed like you did something wrong.

You were right. He went out. He still had his coat on. In his hand were bags of groceries.

His dark eyes were focused on your phone.

“J-Jin,” you called him with a startled voice. And slowly, he dragged his eyes to yours. It was as though he was really seeing you for the first time, as though he was only returning to himself now. He blinked twice before losing the coldness in his demeanor.

It was like his brain short-circuited. He blinked slowly, his eyes raking to your exposed skin. Your exposed thighs were taunting him, making him lose his ever so-loving mind. His eyes strayed on your thin straps. The way your top fitted against your form made him feral. This didn’t bother him last night as his focus was solely on making sure you woke up from your horrible nightmare. All he cared about last night was your well-being.

But heavens, now he was hyperaware of you.

Now, it was a fair game.

Slowly, he dropped his groceries on the kitchen counter before sauntering to you. You eyes widened when you saw how serious he looked. Gone was the Jin that seemed cheerful whenever he was with his brothers.

Gone was the Jin that held you last night, and in his place was someone whose sole focus was to get you. You shivered when he reached you, his form so large and tall that you had to crane your neck just to look at him in obvious confusion.

Yet, all he did was to meet your eyes with his strong and dark ones. His slender fingers plucked your phone away from your ear and dropping the call before pocketing it.

“Jin, what are you doing?” You whispered, afraid that any sound you made would somehow trigger him further.

He leaned down to look at you, his dark hair perfectly framing his face. His large hand went to cup your cheek, caressing the smooth skin down to your neck. His eyes followed his movement, so transfixed with the way he was able to touch you now. Your skin was better than he ever imagined for years. Yet at the back of his mind, he was afraid that all of this would be gone in an instant.

He was terrified that you were just a dream. And that thought made him slid his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hold was strong, leaving you with no illusion that you could move away from his axis- not unless he willingly let you go. He thought that you and him had enough of space. In fact, you had years of space from him and he was through with it.

“Princess, what are you doing to me?” He whispered with his deep voice so closely to your ear, his hot breaths making you shivered from his proximity.

“I-I’m not doing anything-“

He smirked at you, “You are, princess.” Unbeknownst to you, you were both healing and destroying him at the same time. Seokjin didn’t know how this would end, but by heavens he was willing to see this through.

Princess, you could destroy him and he would willingly let you.

You watched him as he bit his plump lower lip as though in anticipation of touching yours. This was not the first time he kissed you- no. The memory of your first kiss with him when you were merely twelve and he was sixteen still lived in your mind. You had always thought that that memory was full of innocence and wander.

You gulped as Jin grasped your chin in his and gently tilted it. He was so close, his lips just a breath away from you. His other hand left your waist to run his fingers on your nape. And you swore you could feel his fingers shake as he touched you.

“You’re my peace, princess,” he whispered, looking intently at you with his dark eyes, willing you to understand that this was the only time he felt peace since you left.

Wishing that you understood that he could no longer return to the dark world you left him with, that this time they would have to pry his cold, dead fingers off of you, that he would die first before you could even separate from him.

You gulped from how serious he looked. And fuck, this was the last thing you needed. It hadn’t been a week since you came back and yet, it seemed as though he was bulldozing his way into your life. You couldn’t think with him around.

You couldn’t breathe.

“Jin, I-I-“

“Hyung!”

You jumped from the series of the sound of doorbell and the corresponding shouting of someone. And Jin must have been out of it because you were able to push him away from you with ease, his hands falling weakly on his sides. He was looking at you with unhidden want.

“I’ll get the door!” You announced too loudly before running to the door. You could feel your heart beating way faster than it should.

What the fuck was that?

Why did you freeze?

Your cheeks felt warm as you ran to the door. Fuck, you should finished your work here immediately. You feared that any second you stayed in his world would be detrimental to you. You opened your door just as the Jungkook was about to knock again when he met your eyes. You thought that his doe eyes couldn’t get any bigger, but they did when they looked at you. His mouth was agape as he took you in and you saw his cheeks and ears reddened considerably. “N-Noona-“

“Jungkook-“

You felt someone grabbed you from behind. Jin maneuvered you to his broad back, shielding you from Jungkook who couldn’t even look at you, his eyes shifting from anywhere but you, and to Yoongi.

“Oh no,” Yoongi said in a deadpanned voice, yet his eyes twinkled with interest and mischief. “Is this a bad time, hyung?”

It was a tense moment for Seokjin and an amusing one for Yoongi. They were having a staring contest in the living room sat in front of each other while Jungkook distracted himself with the in the kitchen, mumbling under his breathe how his hyung never bought him this kind of food despite begging him for years.

“What?” Seokjin finally broke the silence which made Yoongi flashed him his gummy smile. He made his only hyung cracked and it delighted him to no end.

He crossed his legs, getting more comfortable in the sofa. “She’s living here,” he noted in observation before shifting his eyes around the house. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but his hyung seemed to be more…at peace lately. It was as though he finally had what he was looking for. His laughters were more genuine, his eyes calmer, and the darkness that always seemed to be hidden from anyone dissipated.

“Yes.”

Yoongi nodded before spying your form emerging from the bedroom. You were now dressed and ready to start with your work, he presumed with the way you were carrying a notebook and your tablet. “And when is she leaving?”

Jin chuckled humorlessly before looking at Yoongi. And the look he gave Yoongi was unsettling. It was as though all emotions were sucked out from him, and all that was left was dark determination. “She’s never leaving me again, Yoongi,” he answered softly.

“Who’s never leaving?” You asked as soon as you were within earshot, your face clueless as you put on your coat.

Perhaps, what was more unsettling was how quickly Seokjin was able to change his facial expression. Gone was the man that disquieted Yoongi and in his place was the old Seokjin. He was smiling warmly as he turned to look at you. And Yoongi just knew- you were stuck. You didn’t stand a chance against this Jin.

“Jungkook, princess. He won’t leave our food alone,” he replied without missing a beat. How he was able to shift that quick, Yoongi would never know. “At this rate, we won’t have any food left for this week.”

“Oh,” you blinked owlishly before turning to look at the golden maknae. Sure enough, he was wolfing down on the groceries Seokjin recently bought. You rubbed your neck before turning to him, “Do you want me to take him out of your hands?”

“You really don’t mind?” You asked Jungkook for the third time. You eyed him as he drove expertly, one hand on the steering wheel and one hand resting on his side door. He smiled at you, “Not at all, noona! I know all the best places here in Seoul. All I ask is that you feed me.”

You smiled at the golden maknae. Yoongi, on the other hand, took one look at his only hyung before declaring that he was going to stay and do some work with Jin. The look Jin gave you as you left the house was one that you couldn’t decipher. And his parting words were one with too much meaning.

Jungkook was merrily skipping out of the house and you were following closely behind when Jin tugged your wrist.

“We’ll talk later, princess,” he whispered as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was more than a reminder. To you, it seemed like a promise of something. “And you,” he looked over your head to Jungkook who turned to look at the two of you thoughtfully. “Don’t let her leave your sight.”

Something akin to seriousness passed by Jungkook’s face before flashing his hyung his signature smile. “I won’t, hyung.”

You were diligently typing in your tablet as you tasted the dishes Jungkook happily ordered. Speaking of the man, he was happily munching on the food. He really did know the best places to eat in Seoul.

“Can we switch jobs, noona?”

You chuckled before giving him your full attention, “Jungkook, I don’t think I can replace you in the group. For one, I don’t know how to dance.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment before pouting at you. “But your job is so interesting! How did you get into this industry?”

As soon as he learned that one of your responsibilities was to research culture and food, he suddenly perked up. You were responsible on searching for restaurants that would make it big to America. It just so happened that what was standing between you and your well-deserved promotion was this assignment.

“I guess…it stemmed from my childhood.”

“You grew up in Korea, right? Where?”

“Gwacheon.”

He blinked slowly, “That’s Jin hyung’s hometown.”

“Yes,” you chuckled at his confused expression before putting more food in his plate. “We were childhood friends.”

Jungkook picked up his phone excitedly before putting in his ear. “Hyung, they’re childhood friends!”

The fourth place you visited was, in your opinion, the best. The restaurant just had the vibe to it that was hard to replicated. The color scheme, the decorations, and the servers were all very intentional.

Additionally, it wasn’t as pricey as you initially thought.

“Oh my God,” you said in appreciation as you tasted their dishes. “I have to talk to the owner.”

Jungkook chuckled, watching you eat with much gusto. “You’re talking to one of them now.”

“What?”

“We own the place. All seven of us,” a voice behind you announce. Before you could even turn around, he was already sitting beside you. “So, you were childhood friends with our hyung? Tell us what he was like!”

Taehyung was flashing you his boxy smile as he put all his attention on you. “What made him the way he was now?”

What made him merely exist as though he was just going though motions until they saw you with him, Taehyung thought.

“Here’s your coffee,” a polite voice suddenly announced beside you. And when you turned to thank him, you came face to face with the last maknae, Jimin, who was smiling at you.

“You’re all here,” you noted before turning to look accusingly at Jungkook who had the heart to smile sheepishly at you. For someone who had such a muscular body, he did sure look like an image of innocence. “You called them.”

“Yes,” he answered while looking down at his food guiltily.

“After I fed you.”

“I’m sorry?” He apologized unsurely.

Jimin sat beside the pouting maknae, flashing you his signature smile that made it seemed like he knew more than he let on. “Come on, Y/N. Forgive our Kookie. We were just curious about…well. You.”

“W-why?”

“Well…honey, you came out of nowhere. And suddenly, our hyung is…different. In a good kind of way,” Taehyung explained slowly, his dark eyes shining with curiosity.

You didn’t know what they meant. How was you being back in Korea made him different?

You regarded the three equally attractive men in front of you who were all waiting with bated breath on your decision. You smiled at them, specifically to Jungkook who seemed to have a soft spot for you. “I’ll forgive you..if you’ll pay for this meal.”

He suddenly quipped up to that, his grin so wide as he nodded his head eagerly. “I will pay for this meal and I will even vote yes to your proposal.”

Your eyebrow raised at that. What he was saying was even better. You turned to look at Jimin and Taehyung, waiting for them.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Fine. We’ll vote yes, too.”

“But you have to convince Jin more. He has the biggest share, after all.”

It turned out that the seven men all had businesses in different industries. Food chain for Seokjin, Fitness industry for Jungkook, Fashion for Taehyung, Arts for Namjoon, Music for Yoongi, Dance studios for Hobi and Jimin. Apparently, they all owned them secretly and the member who had most interest in the industry would have the most share. You thought it was a genius move for them.

Was your promotion more important to you than keeping your life before with Seokjin a secret from his brothers? The answer was yes. Your promotion was important because promotion meant more money and it would cement your life in America more.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

The three men was listening to you eagerly, loving the crumbs of their hyung’s childhood life. “No way! Jin really did that? He’s so cool!” Jimin said in amazement when he heard how Jin used to fight your bullies for you.

“I guess, he just love taking care of people. He has this instinct to take people under his wings. More so those who are younger than him,” you said before shrugging your shoulders.

“You two were so close,” Taehyung noted before his brows furrowed.

You nodded in agreement. “I guess we were pretty close.”

“So why then did we not know about you?” Taehyung asked in his usual straightforward manner. He had his body turned to you, his elbow that was on the table was supporting on his head.

“Tae! That’s not a polite thing to ask!” Jimin reprimanded his age-mate from across the table, smiling apologetically at you.

You blinked slowly before looking down at your drink. So he never did once talk about you, huh, you thought. That was fine. Why would he want to talk about you when you dodge all his calls and messages, when you returned all the gifts he sent to you, when you never touched all the money he kept on sending you over the years in your bank account.

Why would he want to talk about you when you ghosted him?

“It’s fine. We..I-“ you paused, never knowing how to approach this subject. How could you tell them that you left him? That you just…stopped existing in his life?

How would one even talk about that?

“I had to move away when I was sixteen. I think that was around the time he also became a trainee? Didn’t he move to your dorm back then?”

Jungkook nodded before looking at you with his doe eyes. “Right, noona. But he didn’t move to the dorm right away. He still lived with his parents. His parents, specifically his mother, worried about him a lot.”

You cocked your head to the side in confusion. Why would his mother worry about him when she trusted Jin’s decision too much? If you remembered correctly, the Kim family valued independence.

So…what happened?

“Yes, I remember. He had to go home everyday after training,” Jimin added in a thoughtful manner.

“Really?”

He nodded his head, “I think our Jin hyung was sick that time. But after a year, he moved to our dorm. He got better, I guess.”

Taehyung watched you carefully, his mind taking note of your expression. There was something more to it, he thought. And he was just too curious for his own good.

“Shit. He looked angry,” Jimin stated as Taehyung drove the car slowly to Jin’s driveway. The mentioned man was standing outside in the dark with his hands in his pocket and his jaw in a tight clench. He was watching the car move so impossibly slow as though the maknaes wanted to prolong meeting his wrath.

Sitting in front was Jimin as Taehyung drove the car. Jungkook was in a food coma that he dozed off as soon as the four of you entered the car, while you were still awake and taking notes of all the restaurants you visited.

Yet, as soon as you entered Jin’s premises, you were all too hyperaware of what transpired between the two of you…and your almost kiss.

You took one look at Jin’s face before wincing. “Yes. That’s his angry face.”

But no matter how slow Taehyung drove, he couldn’t avoid arriving at where Jin was standing.

“It’s late,” Jin said in a hard voice, his eyes focused on his members in apparent disapproval.

Jimin flashed him his angelic smile before opening your door. “But we brought her back in one piece?” He said sheepishly as though it would make up for the time he didn’t have you in his sight.

As though it would make up for the uneasiness he had been feeling in his heart ever since you walked out the door. And he didn’t hide it well that Yoongi didn’t leave him alone. He told him that you were coming back when he noticed how uneasy his hyung was becoming when it was late at night and you still weren’t where you were supposed to be.

He didn’t believe him because you once said you were coming back. And you didn’t.

What if you didn’t come back now?

What if you left again?

What if you managed to escape from Jungkook?

What if he couldn’t find you again?

Seokjin was apparently close to having a breakdown that Yoongi forego all his schedule for that day. In fact, the sleepy man walked out of the door, clapping his hand on Jin’s broad shoulder once before going in the car.

Seokjin gently took you from Jimin, his hand splayed on the small of your back as he lead you inside his house. His silence was agonizing that you looked behind you to see him already looking at you. He looked…a little bit pale for your liking and his hand behind your back was shaking a little.

“It’s not their fault. We just visited a lot of places,” you said in a small voice. Jin opened the door and let you inside.

“It’s fine. You’re home now,” he replied in a strong voice. And before you could walked any farther from him, he tugged your wrist and pinned you gently against the wall. And then he was kissing you.

“Oppaaaaaa!” You called him as he retreated away from you.

All night, the sixteen year-old Seokjin was ignoring you. And you hated it. Wasn’t this supposed to be your twelfth birthday party? Why then was he being a party pooper? He was in a harsh mood ever since he walked in to your friends talking. And now that it was just you and his family, he still didn’t look at you.

You were now straight on running as you saw him nearing your gates when he suddenly stopped, making you crash against his back.

“What?” He asked in a cold voice. The darkness of the night was illuminated merely by a few scattered garden lights your father was fond of. The darkness accentuated his sour mood as he looked down at you, his lips in a pout.

“Why are you so mad?”

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, princess. Maybe ask James.”

Shit, he heard you gossiping to your friends. James was your new classmate. It was a year before Jin had you moved to an all-girls school. Strangely, and to be honest, quite exhilarating to a twelve-year old girl, you found out that James had a crush on you. To the young you, being someone’s crush was exciting.

You blushing under his watchful eyes manages to make him even more irritated. “So you do like him!” He said accusingly.

“N-No?”

“Unbelievable,” Jin muttered under his breath. He thought you only had eyes for him. How come another man was stealing your attention from him? “I’m going to tell your father about this!”

“JIN!” You called him in panic when he started walking back to the house with his large strides. You weren’t going to catch up to him, you thought. “Oppa!” You called for him again, running with full force and when he still didn’t stop, you screamed at him.

And that got his attention. He turned to look at you just when you foolishly decided to jump on him. You thought you would hit the ground, but he was quicker. He managed to maneuver his body so you would land on him instead of the hard ground.

But what he didn’t anticipate was your lips landing on his.

Hiraeth IV

[yuurei20]

Crowley Facts Part 12: Faculty and Halloween

Crowley leaves Trein in charge of NRC when he is arrested in Book 6, and seems to acknowledge Trein's authority, saying that he once received a 10-minute long lecture from Trein as punishment for being 10 seconds late to a faculty meeting ("I thought I was the headmage...")

When Crowley and Vargas share their excitement for Beanfest, Trein expresses disapproval, causing both of them to backtrack.

On the subject of Vargas, Crowley says, "I appreciate his zeal, but it. Can be a bit of a bother sometimes."

He seems to be taking into consideration Vargas' suggestion that they strength the students' muscles by changing the fabric of their uniforms into something much heavier.

While the faculty do intentionally choose not to invite Crowley to a Halloween party they do not seem to overtly dislike him, with Vargas welcoming him to their table in the cafeteria for lunch.

When Crowley hears of a problem during Halloween week he declares, "I will resolve whatever has arisen with fairness and poise," but he struggles to handle the combination of Magicam Monsters, bickering faculty and Vil pressuring him to make a decision.

Crowley's solution is to lie about a security system will eject the rude visitors if they do not behave, and the visitors decide this means that they can do anything they want as long as they don't get kicked out.

His lie having backfired, Crowley goes to the students for help, asking them to breaks the school rules of never using magic on laypeople to eject them while hiding what they're doing from Trein.

Cater begins to ask, "First of all, why do WE have to--" but he is interrupted by Malleus, who decides to take matters into his own hands.

Crowley refuses to let Malleus continue ("If you used your full power, we wouldn't have a campus left to eject them from!"), ordering the students to be discreet and use their best judgement, while keeping in mind that "any incidents of injury, whether from an accidental tumble or from magic, will call our reputation as an institution into question."

When Jack and Deuce appear with news of various other emergencies around campus, Crowley orders the students and other staff members to handle it on their own.

We do not see Crowley appear in any of the places experiencing trouble, though Jade observes that he seems crushed by the weight of the world the following day.

After the Great Seven statues are toppled onto the ground Crowley declares that they might have to cancel the Halloween party in order to put the students' safety first.

The students proceed to handle the problems on their own, with Crowley seemingly none the wiser: "A miracle this conveniently timed couldn't happen even with magic! What could have possibly brought this turn of events about?"

[nunalastor]

Kid Alastor with demon powers AU (includes alcohol abuse):

All of his demon contracts are still in place but Husk is certain he can use this new situation to free himself from his. Thing is, kid Alastor is... wary of him. While this younger version of Alastor doesn't fully understand soul contracts, he does have an understanding that he can force Husk to do things or not do things. And as a kid, the grown, growly, drunk Husk frightens him. He's on edge every time Husk raises a bottle to his lips, waiting for the bartender to become angry and start screaming and throwing things. Husk never quite goes that far, but he's still angry enough to unsettle Alastor.

So Husk tries to gently cajole kid Alastor into breaking their deal and in doing so lets Alastor know that he's the one in charge. And Alastor responds with the kind of selfishness you'd really expect from a kid. He refuses. And starts using the contract to make Husk act nicer.

No more growling.

No more raising his voice.

And, worst of all:

No more drinking.

As he's standing at the bar with a forced customer service smile on his face, Husk really wishes he'd just kept his mouth shut.

Charlie's trying to help, even if she's not making much headway. Angel Dust is more overtly pissed on Husk's behalf, but he's caught in a weird place of being indignant for Husk and understanding where Alastor's coming from because daddy issues~ He's more on Husk's side though. And lil' Alastor's just confused why everyone's upset because isn't Husk better this way? He's acting nicer, he's sober, he's not slamming things on the counter or cursing people out.

It's only when Husk begins showcasing severe symptoms of alcohol withdrawal that Alastor finally releases Husk from the contract - not realizing in the heat of the moment he can just cancel out the orders - but by then it's too late to do anything to ease Husk's suffering through it.

👀

[askmerriauthor]

regarding pokemon sleep, it looks like you’re just looking for things to complain about. it’s designed to be this chill thing you check on during the day and leave running at night. to play it, all you have to do is sleep and feed your pokemon. no one’s telling you you to have to be the very best at it or pressuring you into paying for stuff, let alone the game itself.

If I was just looking for things to complain about, I'd still be out here whinging over Pokemon Cafe's delightfully charming art style being absolutely wasted on a junk puzzle game instead of a full RPG or cozy slice-of-life Sim.

Regarding this post here.

Hi, I'm MerriAuthor. Apparently we haven't met because anyone who follows my blog would know that I've worked in game development well on 20 years now. I've worked across the industry from little nobody indie houses, to overseas gacha-fodder, to big ol' AAA major studios. Video games and their design are a big part of my life and, boy howdy, do I have some FEELINGS about the direction the industry as a whole has gone in as the years go by. Especially in regards to the predatory monetization of gaming and how it actively preys on children, uninformed parents, people with addictive behaviors, people with hyper-competitive personalities, and similar behavioral traits solely for the purpose of making money at their expense.

it’s designed to be this chill thing you check on during the day and leave running at night. to play it, all you have to do is sleep and feed your pokemon.

As with the previous person I spoke with on this topic, that is the base function of the game. But it's by no means the design of the game. Pokemon Sleep's entire game play rotation and marketplace are designed around encouraging the Player to interact with it as much as possible within an intentionally limited time frame. Meanwhile, the game's own time scale is such that it expects Players to log hundreds if not thousands of hours of interaction with it. Its own base gameplay loop is a weekly schedule and its shop schedule is monthly. Some Pokemon require a bare minimum of 150 hours of logged sleep to even access. Pokemon Sleep wants you to be in it for the long haul.

It's also based on collection; nearly every facet of the game is listed numerically and with a percentage value or progress bar, which are functions designed to produce urgency to complete them in the Player. Human brains don't like seeing an unfinished goal, especially one represented so overtly as an unfilled progress bar or a percentage value with a decimal. Want to have your favorite Pokemon as your napping buddy but don't want to put in a ton of effort playing the game to boost up your Snorlax's power score? Better hope it's one of the low-tier Pokemon assigned into the lower brackets of the gameplay progression, because otherwise you're never going to see it. Though you could always just fork over some cash. Nearing the end of your week with Snorlax and you're just shy of a milestone you've been aiming the entire week for? Good luck! You can pay money for that extra little boost, and once you've done it you'll resent its absence enough to want to buy it again! Do you want to level up that cutie first Charmander the game gave you at the very beginning specifically to ingrain itself with faux emotional value into your favorite Charizard? Want your Eevee to evolve into one of its most popular Eeveelutions? Want a Lucario, period? You'll need to put in hundreds of hours of consistent sleep to save up enough Sleep Points exclusively toward that goal... or you can just buy access to it immediately, through first purchasing access to the Premium Subscription! A Premium Subscription which, again, doesn't auto-cancel if you delete the app and can't be canceled through the app itself, for all you distracted parents who don't pay attention to fine print and wonder why your kid's game is running up a bill on your credit card each month after the 14-day free period - just long enough for you to have forgotten all about it in the first place. Snorlax wants a specific kind of Berry this week, but none of the helper Pokemon you recruited gather that berry, or they do and are just too low on Energy to manage it? Aren't you lucky! The shop will just sell you solutions to these problems the game itself created specifically to get you to shell out money!

no one’s telling you you to have to be the very best at it or pressuring you into paying for stuff, let alone the game itself.

Here's some screen shots from the game's own app page. Buttons to make purchases and drive interaction - the app store, sleep pass, how many dream shards you have, a prompt to buy more inventory space, your missions, your current goal, the progress meter and rarity values of your Pokemon's sleep styles, your collection and their levels, etc - are all constantly and prominently displayed. The entire first day of actual gameplay in the app is a tutorial explaining how it wants you to do more than just sleep and passively collect to the point that it literally sets a daily schedule of activity for you. The mechanics explanations are so egregiously long that the Professor character literally apologizes to the Player for being so long-winded about it. Oh, an adorable moment of self-depreciation and understanding! How humanizing and encouraging of empathy from the user, done with a cheeky wink and nod. Now that we've softened your emotional state ever so slightly, here's some more microtransaction-driven gameplay elements!

If this was really just a cute little game to idle around with for its own fun, there wouldn't be a cash shop, nor would the game require a consistent internet connection to its servers. The big thing with games like these is that they're not made for the Player's benefit or entertainment. They're made to make the parent company profits. That's it. If the Pokemon Company didn't think they'd make substantial returns on the investment of development, support, marketing, and online distribution costs to put this game out into the world, they never would have made it. That is a core reality of any product put out these days. I just spent this last week helping my studio's marketing and sales team make sales projections for one of our upcoming titles, figuring out how much we could reasonably charge our potential customers literally down to the penny. And the game we're selling isn't even a service with any kind of microtransactions or DLCs. Profits are fundamental in any studio production and, where microtransaction apps are concerned, are the core focus of why the app exists.

If you're perfectly happy with playing Pokemon Sleep as an idle "pop on every once in a while, poke for a few minutes, then forget about and never pay a cent" kind of game? Totally fine, you do you. But understand that Pokemon Sleep doesn't want you as its player and will not cater to your experience. The core gameplay of Pokemon Sleep is already designed to actively degrade into a subpar experience for those who don't pay to play and that rift will only become more pronounced as time goes by. Everything around the cash shop exists for no other reason than to encourage you to use the cash shop. Over time, the gameplay will further contort itself to drive more interaction with and reliance upon the cash shop as the app sheds its non-paying users who just tire of it and move on, instead doubling-down on the lingering, paying users who have already proven themselves a reliable stream of revenue. That is how these things always go and have always historically gone.

There's also the consistently apt adage of "if you're not paying for the product, you are the product". Pokemon Sleep requires an internet connection any time you want to interact with the app - there is no offline mode. Further, the actual fine print in the terms of service (not the bubbly, legally-meaningless assurances put into the game text itself) addresses that it will collect and may share your device information, user ID, and app activity (ie, the schedules, timing habits, and spending habits the game itself has ingrained into its interaction with the Player) for analytics and advertising purposes, and that they're okay with sharing (ie, selling) that information to third parties without naming who those third parties are. And boy, does the game really want you to link your Google, Apple, and Facebook accounts to it as part of its core functionality! Worth keeping in mind as well is that the app requires constant access to your microphone and can pick up sounds as minor as a sheet rustling when you turn over in bed. The game's bubbly, meaningless text assures you that it doesn't save or transfer the snippets of sleep recordings it makes of you each night, but it makes absolutely no assurances whatsoever in the fine print that it's not using your microphone for other purposes. It does, however, point out that it will be making use of your phone's functions even when you're not using the app.

So, yeah, I'll just still be over here not playing Pokemon Sleep and encouraging others to do the same, as well as pay closer attention to the nature of so-called "free to play" games.

[emeraldspiral]

This person was really cooking here.

Similar to what I've talked about in other posts.

Like, not only does Zim never actually say that he hates Dib or express disdain for him personally, it's indicated multiple times that he respects and admires him and does what he does mostly to impress him because he values Dib's validation. The post-cancellation ending written by Jhonen himself even has Zim completely losing all hostility toward Dib the moment he wins and overtly expressing that he enjoys his company and wants him in his life.

It's just so funny to imagine ZADR as like a sort of space Pride & Prejudice where one party thinks there's a mutual disdain between them and is totally blind-sighted when the other comes out and admits they've admired them all along. But at the same time that person is legitimately an elitist who thinks the other and the people they come from are beneath them, they're just willing to overlook it because they're so in love.

[secular-jew]

Since 10-7, if you're like me, it's easy to lament the historical repetition of Islamic colonial oppression which others seem to be overtly ignoring.

Unfolding before our very eyes, in this generation, our generation. That which we thought -- unthinkable.

We are not the generation of our great grandparents. We are not the generation of economic depression and drought. We are not the generation of poverty and world war. We are not the generation of blood libel and property dispossession. We are not the generation of cattle cars and death camps. We are not the apathetic, naive generation. And mostly, we are NOT the generation of silence.

Never again meant what exactly?

Many discouraged colleagues have disconnected from social media. Gone underground for the most part. Hiding from exposure, doxxing, or worse.

We are living in an age of outspoken antisemitism reincarnate. 1930s Nazi propaganda has been effectively adopted by the Islamists, focused on Israel as a stepping stone to the re-colonization of Andalusia (Spain), the rest of Europe, and North America, also in their sites.

Highlighting Islamic oppression, jihad/terrorism has led to being cancelled, silenced and demonized on social media, the new technological ally of the Islamists. Our social media accounts frozen or closed-down entirely.

Exodus redux? Feels like wandering aimlessly in the dessert, similar to the ancients searching for Canaan, but without a guide.

Whatever one thinks about Tumblr, I can tell you from experience, that life is much worse on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram, and much better on Twitter (X).

For instance, Zuckerturd has doubled down on censorship and overrun his site with state-sponsored "fact-checkers."

At the same time, Musk has held true to his word, reinstating banished voices who have taken on numerous global tyrants, almost single-handedly.

They say history repeats. But it doesn't need to be that way. We seem to be approaching the rubicon.

[misojunnie]

I love your &team fics 😭 we need more people to realise how fucking amazing they are.

Could you perhaps write a boyfriend!Yuma fic where he gets jealous that you are spending too much time with another member?

✧ jealousy, jealousy - nym.

# genre: jealous bf!yuma x reader

#warnings: jealousy, basically everything in the rq

#word count: 1.3k

★。＼｜／。★

If looks could kill, Nicholas would be a dead man right about now.

It wouldn’t necessarily be the murder of an innocent. He knew exactly what he was doing when he put his arm around you while you were laughing, hiding a smirk under his virtuous smile. He knew you were Yuma’s girlfriend, and he did it anyway. Because who could resist your charming laughter and kind eyes?

You had been spending entirely too much time with Nicholas, according to Yuma. He had been whisking you away to ice skate under the guise that Jo canceled on him, playing video games with you and play-fighting when he lost, even bringing treats to your classes, saying he accidentally bought too many and needed something to do with the leftovers.

Yuma was just about ready to kill him.

Typically, your boyfriend wasn’t an overtly jealous man. He was protective when need be; for reference, when some guy was hitting on you too aggressively at a bar, or when his friends got a little too touchy. This incident fell into the latter category.

Today was yet another one of those days. Nicholas and you were sitting on the couch, watching Gilmore Girls with rapt attention. Nicholas was staring at the screen, eyes wide as he chewed on popcorn, engrossed in the show. It was times like this that Yuma wondered if he was doing this to get under his skin, or if he genuinely just enjoyed your company. He couldn’t decide which option he disliked more.

“Mind if I join?” Yuma asked smoothly, walking over and asserting himself in the remaining seat. You and Nicholas had taken the loveseat, forcing him into the single chair. The ludicracy of the situation made his blood boil.

“Yuma!” you said excitedly, blowing him a kiss from the couch. “Hi babe, I didn’t realize you were home yet.” Yuma had been home for almost half an hour. He couldn’t even express how betrayed he felt. He strode over to you, pressing a kiss to your lips before moving back to his humiliating seat.

“Mhm, I got off work early.” he said, making sure to glare fiercely in Nicholas’ direction. The boy didn’t even notice, his eyes still on the television.

“That reminds me,” Nicholas finally spoke up, turning to make conversation with you and —purposefully or not, we’ll never know— excluding Yuma. “EJ told me that Jake’s throwing a party tonight downtown. You wanna come? You never know, it might be fun.” Yuma cleared his throat quite obviously, and Nicholas turned to him with a vacant expression. “Oh, you too Yuma. The more the merrier.”

“I’d love to go.” you said with a smile, and Yuma inwardly rolled his eyes at your naivete. Couldn’t you see? It was so obvious that Nicholas was into you, that he was trying to take you away, take away something that was Yuma’s.

“I’ll come along.” Yuma said stoically, crossing his arms over his chest. Nicholas seemed a little miffed, but Yuma couldn’t care less.

There was no way you were going to that party without him.

★。＼｜／。★

If Yuma wasn’t sure that Nicholas was gunning for you before, he was sure now. You were both on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of some late 90’s song that Yuma had never heard before. The two of you seemed to be digging it though, swaying to the beat as you danced with your arms above your head, Nicholas’ hands coming dangerously near your waist.

Yuma could kill a man. Specifically, his best friend.

The second Nicholas’ hand touched your shoulder, Yuma had had enough. He stood up from the makeshift bar, striding quickly to the dance floor and grabbing your wrist, his grip tight and nearly painful against your soft skin. You complained as he pulled you away, jaw set and eyes narrowed as he strode upstairs and directly into a guest room. It didn’t escape your notice that he locked the door behind you.

“Babe, what’s going on?” you said, crossing your arms and tilting your head. “I was having fun dancing.”

“Seemed like you were having a lot of fun, yeah. You like dancing with Nicholas?” Yuma said, raising his brows. You instantly knew what this was all about, sighing.

“It’s not like that, Yuma.”

“Isn’t it?” he said, and you didn’t reply, just staring at him as you sat on the bed, making yourself comfortable. This was going to be a long chat. He towered over you as he remained standing, positioning himself in front of you with his arms crossed. “Do you like him more than me?” he said after a beat, and you scoffed.

“Yuma, of course not. You’re my boyfriend. Not Nicholas.”

“Not yet.” he said pettily, and you stood, caressing his cheek softly. “Next thing I know, he’ll be showing up to our doorstep with flowers. Then he’ll whisk you away for picnic dates and you’ll be bar hopping across Shinjuku for the rest of your days.” You almost laughed at the ludicracy of the statement.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you cooed, and he rolled his eyes at your sickeningly sweet, almost pitying, tone. “Gosh, you get so mean when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” he replied, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “But you’ve been spending way too much time with him lately.”

“Nicholas is my friend, baby. Nothing more.”

“You should see the way he looks at you. Like he wants to eat you up.” You giggle at that, trying to imagine it.

“That’s so stupid.”

“It’s true. I should know, I look at you the same way.” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, taking his hands into yours. He couldn’t resist you when you gave him those puppy dog eyes, all eager and innocent. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“C’mon babe. Let’s go back out there.”

“Not a chance. If I see you with Nicholas for one more second, I might kill him.” you chuckled softly, and Yuma’s hardened expression yielded for a moment.

“Alright, then let’s get out of here and get some katsu on the way home, hm? We can go to that one place you really like. Just the two of us.” His face brightened immediately, and you smiled at his endearing expression.

“You mean it?” he asked, and you nodded. “Thank god. I’ve been getting tired of drinking alone all night.”

“Very funny.” you quipped as he took your hand with a snaggle toothed smile, pulling you out of the bedroom and quickly downstairs. The two of you giggled as you dashed to the front door.

“Hey, are you guys leaving?” Nicholas called after the two of you, emerging from the throngs of dancing people, his platinum hair mussed and matted to his forehead.

“Getting katsu!” you yelled back, waving with a smile. “Alone.” Yuma added as you pulled him through the door, flashing a smug smile in his friend’s direction as the two of you disappeared into the night.

Later, the two of you huddled together for warmth as you munched on katsudon, the night fog creeping along the streets as you laughed together. 

“I’m happy we left, actually.” you said, your cheek puffing out from your efforts at chewing. Yuma watched you with silent adoration. “I was getting kinda sweaty from dancing, and Jo didn’t even show up.”

“I’m glad we left too. I’d much rather be eating katsudon with you than partying.” he agreed, and you grinned widely.

“Aw. That’s cute.” Yuma leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, but was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of his phone.

Nico: I wasn’t hitting on your girlfriend, dude.  Stop being weird. Nico: She’s just really nice >:/

★。＼｜／。★

a/n: omg this was so cute i rlly enjoyed writing this one :( loved this prompt plus I love yuma sm </3 I'm still working on finishing all the requests, so plz be patient!!! ty lovelies for reading!

[maxwell-grant]

So I saw that Street Fighter tier list, and I noticed that C. Viper was near dead last. I'm not too familiar with her, but I was under the impression she was pretty well-liked by SFIV standards--any reason why you dislike her so much?

I don't actually dislike her much as a character, I put her at the bottom because of how much I hate Viper's playstyle. That wasn't really a tier list for the series in general, more so about the prospecting of those characters returning (ex: I don't hate Necalli, I wrote the biggest semi-defense the dude is ever gonna get, and I still know he needs to fuck off). In Viper's case, I find her uniquely grating to watch because she spends so much time spamming feint Seismic Hammer to condition control over the opponent's jumps or canceling Burning Kick in the air to mix up her landings, and it makes it she's always doing that ringing sound all the goddamn time, at least El Fuerte's squeaky shoes and running animation are funny. Yes, it kind of is sublimely perfect that the CIA agent's playstyle consists of overtly psychologically conditioning and electrically torturing your opponent into opening up, but that lands her into a firm "fuck off forever" for me because I never want to sit through a Viper match in SFIV and MvC3 alike, or ever again. So unless they did something about that, I don't consider it a loss if she's never playable again. She probably will though, if not in 6 then in 7, but that's a headache for later.

I mean, SFIV standards were abysmally low so you could say Viper was comparatively well-received next to the other new characters, but she was never really that popular. In fact even at the game's launch Ono was surprised that players weren't latching onto Viper, despite Viper being custom-made for Western audiences

“With all due to respect to him (Abel), he’s a great character, but honestly we thought Crimson Viper would be a big hit here,” said Ono. “We got a lot of marketing data and a lot of advice from our US branch in creating that character. She was kind of custom tailored for the States and we thought people would like her.”

People did start playing her a lot more overtime because she turned out to be a competitive scene monster, but I mostly remember people being baffled and cynical when she got picked for MvC3. C.Viper was a popular moveset, but not so much a popular character, and it wasn't at all difficult for Juri to completely eclipse her, despite how hard they were trying to push Viper at first. I think you can very easily point to what Ono said as a reason why she didn't catch on that much. She is blatantly designed to appeal to American audiences and that made her more of a gimmick than a character. She is Angelina Jolie as a secret agent spy in an extremely tight-fitting pantsuit who also has superhero powers that nobody else has and that she achieves with technology. I already don't give much of a damn about most of the military/government affiliated characters in the series, but they tend to have other things going on that Viper really doesn't.

The KOF ladies she's ripping off have distinct fighting styles (and those games get to play much more loose with character design) they get to provide an interesting take on by doing it while dressing fashionably, but Viper is defined by her reliance on gadgets and gimmicks. She is a very generic videogame protagonist lady who plays like one of those hodpedodge World Tour characters, and she's not even a bad design on her own, she's just not really pulling her weight as a Street Fighter character. She represents nothing, and I don't think she has anything going on really justifies her inclusion over another character.

All that said, I actually do think Viper is a useful character to have around. I'm against her ever being playable again but, like I said, she probably will, and fine, she has a allright enough niche as a character. I am exceedingly generous to a lot of SF characters I'm otherwise not a fan of and she's a character I can talk myself into appreciating more, as I'm doing now. She's a decent POV character to drive stories around in her IV and V appearences, given her job forces her to play detective around the characters, but she actively doesn't want to fight, so she's always going to run when the going gets rough and leave the fighting to the actual main characters. Her priority is to do her job so she can go home and be with her daughter and that's all she cares about, she has neither time nor patience to care about this and she finds it frankly ridiculous that people call her gadgets unfair, when she's just trying to get the fight done as quickly as possible.

They get some good mileage out of the fact that she stands for nothing and that she is intruding somewhere she doesn't belong, that she's just punching the clock on a job she was given, that she really doesn't have any kind of beef with these people and just needs them to get out of her way and really has no stake other than survival for her family's sake, and that all the fighters detest her, whether it's because she is blatantly cheating, or because she's a pain in the ass, or because of how viciously she brutalized Cammy (not sure if that whole movie is canon still), that kind of thing.

It could be very possible that Juri ls lying, and the illustration is definitely exaggerated, but I enjoyed the reveal in SF6 that she and Viper have basically become partners in crime, that Juri considers them "cut from the same cloth", and that she has the same goal as a greedy career criminal who kidnaps people for evil organizations (which was the same thing C.Viper was doing undercover). I enjoy them mostly dispensing with the pretense that Viper is supposed to be a good person and I enjoy the series letting one of it's government/military agent characters be a bastard/ honest about the job they have.

She can love her daughter as much as she wants and even have decent enough interactions with other characters, it's not going to make her not a CIA spook who beats up and tortures people with electric gauntlets on the clock. It isn't even that unbelievable that she would wind up on good terms with Juri, not just because they're both cheating with technological assets, or because they were both working for the same guy and biding their time to backstab him, but because they both exist to break the rules everyone else is mostly abiding by, neither strong enough to attrack too much attention as villains nor weak enough that they can't match the heroes when push to comes to shove. They both had personal revenge stakes to get through (Juri with her parents, Viper with her fallen partners), and with both of their targets gone, they get to just be themselves: cockroaches trying to make off with the prize / turn a profit in a space they view as largely dominated by suckers.

Much like Mel Masters in the 6 comic, I think it's good for Street Fighter to have characters that have an agnostic/adverse relationship to the concept of street fighting, and to her credit, there is something really funny about her position. She is a James Bond in a world full of evil organizations and villains to fight, but the only way to get to them is through fighting tournaments, and all the actual heroes of the world fighting said people hate her guts for cheating and refusing to put in the work they did in martial arts that are, apparently, the most important thing in the world I guess??? She is a hypercompetent superspy who wishes she could be out there doing regular espionage stuff, and instead has to deal with superpowered fighting bozos flushing years of careful investigative work down the toilet. Born to blow up islands full of henchmen and arm South American coups, forced to step into the ring with Ryu from the Streets who doesn't even pay taxes.

[eretzyisrael]

by Lionel Shriver

Another day, another opportunity for huffy, hypocritical “progressive” posturing. PEN America has now been forced to cancel its World Voices literary festival in New York and L.A., on the heels of also canceling its 2024 awards ceremony. Too many authors had withdrawn from both events to make going ahead with staging either practicable. The reason for so many writers flouncing from these programs? PEN’s failure to publicly denounce Israel’s “genocide” in Gaza. But you had probably guessed the point of indignation already, because as of October 2023, the Anglosphere’s far left has neatly pivoted from the infantilization of black people to the Palestinian cause with the coordinated grace of a synchronized swimmer.

To clarify: the purpose of PEN is to defend freedom of speech and to protect writers from political oppression and persecution. It makes perfect sense, therefore, that a significant cadre of its membership would seek to stifle freedom of speech and engage in political oppression and persecution. Or: we’re all for free speech so long as you say what we tell you. These folks are athletes. It requires considerable intellectual acrobatics for Writers Against the War on Gaza to regard the shutting down of events to advance free expression as “a win for free expression.” Presumably, the fact that a number of withdrawals from both occasions were motivated by fear of being attacked by a mob of pro-Palestinian zealots is also “a win for free expression.” PEN itself stated its concern “about any circumstance in which writers tell us they feel shut down, or that speaking their minds bears too much risk.”

PEN is, by its nature, a big tent. It represents not only Muslim writers but Jewish ones too, some of whom might just support the existence of Israel, might just regard Israel’s war against Hamas in Gaza as justified, and might just find alliance with genuinely genocidal terrorists whose unembarrassed aim is to wipe Israel and the Jewish people off the map as a teeny tiny bit obnoxious. While one PEN member decries the nonprofit’s “both-sidesing,” the truth is that PEN has no business taking a position on this issue whatsoever.

Unfortunately, the left has successfully installed the expectation that, regardless of their established purpose, all institutions—companies, museums, theaters, universities, charities, you name it—must proclaim their fealty to the “right” (which is to say left) position on a host of inflammatory issues of the day. This hyper-politicization of entities that ought sensibly to remain politically neutral has been systematically debauching everything from the UK’s National Trust to its NHS, from Anheuser-Busch to the Chicago Art Museum. First, all such outfits were required to fly Black Lives Matter flags, then garishly incoherent Pride flags, and now these banners have all to be swapped out for Palestinian flags, never mind what constituency or customer base might be alienated by this gratuitously partisan branding. Thus, an organization established for the defense of free speech of every sort—including the overtly Zionist kind—is necessarily obliged to openly advocate for Hamas, a murderous, cheerfully antisemitic cult whose interest in free speech on its home turf would fit in a thimble.

Of course, PEN’s membership has form when it comes to hypocrisy. In 2015, under armed security, PEN awarded its Freedom of Expression Courage Award to the satirical French magazine Charlie Hebdo. Six writers withdrew from participating in the proceedings to protest the magazine’s ostensibly offensive printing of cartoons that depicted Muhammad. Yet funnily enough, what your average normal person found offensive was the vicious massacre of 12 of the publication’s employees, most of them journalists, for neglecting to adhere to one religion’s hysterical blasphemy laws in a secular country that famously celebrates liberté. Yet over 200 writers—including, to my astonishment, the likes of Joyce Carol Oates—signed an open letter to PEN criticizing the Charlie Hebdo award. For these authors, defense of free speech, promotion of tolerance, and opposition to violent political oppression—the very purpose of PEN—counted for nothing when weighed against any injury to the delicate feelings of fundamentalist Muslims.

Much has been written about the unholy, and in some ways, hilarious alliance developing between the progressive left and Islam (Lesbians for Palestine, etc.). But for Western writers to embrace a restrictive, prescriptive, and stifling culture isn’t merely ironic or comical; it’s self-defeating. One needn’t consult a professor of Middle Eastern studies to conclude that these fair-weather friends in Gaza may welcome useful idiocy, but the permissive ethos of the Anglo left is diametrically at odds with despotic Islamic theology. Moreover, for American writers to express increasingly shrill and little-disguised hostility to Jews is to disavow a substantial chunk of the country’s distinguished literary canon: Philip Roth, Saul Bellow, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Bernard Malamud, and Elie Wiesel just for starters.

But then, the past 15 years have demonstrated with depressing clarity that writers, along with artists of every stripe, aren’t special. Although our occupation is more at risk from censorship than most, we’re all too capable of perversely embracing suppressive viewpoints that violate our own interest. We’re paid not only to write but to think, yet we don’t think; we listen keenly for whatever tune is playing in our fellow travelers’ AirPods and whistle along. Apparently, we’re no more creative than the average bear, and as soon as the memo goes out, we’ll chant along with the kiddies camped at Columbia University, “from the river to the sea!” whatever that means. We’ll obediently switch out one cause for another whenever we’re told, as nimbly as using “find and replace” in Microsoft Word.

We’re cowards, conformists, and copycats. Real freedom of expression is too scary; we’d rather hide in a crowd whose keffiyeh-masked members all shout the same thing. PEN has a laudable history of advocating for writers who’ve been persecuted for their opinions in repressive polities—polities much like the contemporary United States. But too many of its members would have the nonprofit corrupt its global mission to protect free speech across the board so long as they can bully its leadership into pointless partisan posturing for progressives’ acrid flavor of the month.

[rgr-pop]

story time on that for @prettyboysdontlookatexplosions and everyone

in the girl group we are doing a new thing where at a meeting someone volunteers to lead a training, skill share, activity or reading based on their area of knowledge. a is starting by presenting an adapted organizing conversations workshop. she’s really a pro at this and it’s a great first experiment

- this is not a closed group. i would not join a closed group with a bunch of irritating anarchists no offense. the only closed group i would join would be about doing drugs and hosting dinner parties and talking about things like the oklahoma city bombing. (practically speaking i do have this in my life: judaism. anywho)

- we are still ironing out details of the org, but have agreed on some norms about inviting people—the gender question stays complicated, people can’t be in the chat til they come to a meeting, and we may have social media but need to debate it first. we have at length discussed inviting people to meetings for many months. we even role played invitations. can’t emphasize enough that if your group doesn’t at least try to invite people in some way or another, it’s not organizing, it’s a red flag, and also these are NOT MY FRIENDS. i actively dislike at least 30% of them on a taste level

- a specifically requested people bring people to this, especially coworkers. cannot emphasize enough that this is organizing 101. we discussed this so at length we even had a vote on whether the activity should go at the front or end of the meeting based on which would be more accessible to new visitors. we had a discussion about communicating the accessibility situation of a meeting in a house

- a asked me specifically to model some of this organizing 101 and go into the chat and talk about how i invited people. so i did this

- the social worker in the group who always needs to be the boss of everything but anarchistly (deleted a mean sentence but you have to understand i find her more distasteful and difficult to be around than almost anyone alive but i do so anyway because those are the basic terms) made a whole to do in the chat asking me why i invited those people. like what do you mean why?? what is this, your birthday party? shut up

- side point, she was really weirdly confrontational about me having invited this one particular woman — who is in her anarchist org with her (but is not an anarchist). this woman is cool, older, divorced, labor organizer kind of wobbly style, working class philosopher, queer, principled red, and funny and outgoing. she kept telling me she wanted to get involved with girl group so i wanna keep on top of that - again organizing 101. the social worker though? this is the second time accusations of overt anticommunism have arisen..

- related, i had been reading about people calling robert miles “klanarchist” and me and my friends were joking about how i’m going to get cancelled for calling someone that lol. anyway it’s actually deranged how personally authoritarian and overtly exclusionary so many people are in anarchism. it never gets better

[some-triangles]

2023 IN REVIEW

So, the most important thing that happened this year is I got married. My wife likes to dress me up in extravagant outfits and draw me little cartoons. I am more content as a human being than I ever have been.

This doesn't mean my brain problems have gone away. If anything, the good stuff I have now has thrown the bad stuff into sharper relief, internally and externally. It's harder to ignore depression and anxiety when you're not by yourself. When the people around you aren't actively contributing to your agita and there are no more ambitions you got which remain unfulfilled (apart from the silly ones like being so rich you never have to work again) it kind of highlights how, y'know, the call is coming from inside the house, where the house is my body, and the gremlin living in the attic is my brain.

I am feeling less and less apt to tolerate bullshit. Maybe less willing, maybe less capable. This has unfortunately coincided with a significant uptick in bullshit in the outside world, as we continue our transition to an overtly scam-based economy and our sensible centrist president continues to fund genocide overseas. There don't seem to be any good guys left. I find myself unable to shrug and say that it is what it is with quite the same nonchalance as before. Maybe it's a product of getting old.

Oldness may also contribute to the fact that I no longer seem to be interested in listening to new music. My track of the year is 4Lung's "Sarab&e", which is a cancelled furry rapping anemically over a Satie sample - you gotta really kick me in the shins to get my attention these days. On the other side I find myself listening to a lot of jazz on the radio. Did you know Orville Johnson (that's right, of https://orvillejohnson.com/ ) put out a dobro-led cover of Gravy Waltz? And it's pay what you want on Bandcamp? Maybe there are some good guys.

In sum I don't care what band that sounds like one band but also another band came out with their music album anymore. Boards of Canada already solved music and that's fine.

Comics are still good. Gray Folie's "Idletry" continues to be completely fascinating. There seems to be an endless supply of good artists on Tumblr just making stuff and putting it out there for me to look at. Thank you to all of them. Also I hear a new zine from my favorite might be dropping soon - stay tuned for more on that.

All I read is contemporary SF for the podcast and that's also fine. Most of it. Apparently the new thing is books about raising autistic children or being raised by autistic parents or both, and that certainly works for me. My favorite book of the year is not about that, though, and instead asks what if the founder of the Ming dynasty was actually an ace AFAB transmasc with ADHD. It manages to achieve grand tragedy with this concept, particularly if you ignore the ending. (Also you have to read the first book first or it won't make any sense.)

My goal for the new year is that I manage to get the energy together to find a therapist or change my meds up or whatever. Things are good but they could be better, might as well try. I would also kind of like to move back to the east coast but we'll see. Maybe get a cat.

[thatrickmcginnis]

RICHARD KERN, TORONTO, 1988

Richard Kern's career has been remarkable to watch from the perspective of someone who met him briefly for a portrait session, after a screening of his films in the backroom club where I usually saw and photographed bands. Kern emerged from New York's East Village with a zine and later a series of films that were aggressively provocative, back when this was still acceptable subject matter for artists. I'd already seen an evening of his films - a program that included Fingered and The Right Side of My Brain - and it was pretty indelible. But we were all edgelords back in those pre-grunge days, and this sort of overtly offensive stuff was celebrated, especially if it offended the right people.

Richard Kern and his colleagues in what got called the Cinema of Transgression - which included filmmakers like Nick Zedd, Jon Moritsugu, Beth B, Kembra Pfahler, David Wojnarowicz and others - were an obvious tributary to the underground and indie rock scene, especially when musicians like Henry Rollins and Lydia Lunch would appear in Kern's films. Their whole "fuck you if you don't like it" aesthetic was a natural fit with bands like the Butthole Surfers, Jesus Lizard, Big Black, Poison Idea, Pussy Galore and so many others. So it was natural that we'd do a feature on Kern for the alternative music monthly I worked for when he showed up to answer questions after an evening of his films, with my friend Tim assigned to write the piece while I got to do the pictures. I showed up with my Mamiya C330 and my flash, umbrella and light stand and photographed Kern simply, sitting on a chair in front of the movie screen on the stage at the Rivoli where I usually saw bands.

What I didn't know at the time was that my Richard Kern portraits would be my last ever job for Nerve magazine, where I'd been developing as a photographer (no pun intended) for over two years. The story Tim and I handed in would be laid out on flats but never saw publication, as money troubles (and some personal ones) unceremoniously ended Nerve magazine after five years. This was effectively the end of my apprenticeship as a photographer; if I wanted to make a living at this, I had to seriously start looking for work at "real" magazines. I'm not sure if anyone ever saw these portraits of Richard Kern; they probably didn't get published anywhere until I posted a few on my old blog several years ago.

With all that in mind I'm still rather pleased with my portraits of Kern: they have a starkness and simplicity I was striving for (what my friend Chris Buck recently referred to as a "clunky honesty"). You didn't have to know that Richard Kern would end up with a career as a celebrated, arty pornographer, but it wouldn't surprise you. He has, in the decades since I took these photos, published over two dozen books with titles like XXModels, Digital Kern, Shot by Kern, New York Girls and Extra High, sometimes for quality imprints like Abrams and Taschen. Even more improbably he has survived the scythe of cancel culture, perhaps by hiding in plain sight.