#they sold it and both of them got the same amount of money. like its insane to me when siblings hate each other or start

[saltminerising]

Sigh. I'm so frustrated.

So I bought a G1, it was an XYZ, nothing special, its eyes don't even match (they actually really really clash with its colors tbh). But I liked the dragon and whatnot, and spent a fair amount of money gene-ing it up. Now, a few days later, the seller messages me and seems kinda upset about it, because apparently they hadn't meant to list this dragon on the AH at ALL. And I mean it wasn't cheap, so I didn't... think it was a mistake/mispricing/etc.? Like why would I even think that when I had no indication they DIDN'T mean to even list it up on the AH??

And, normally I'd totally be willing to resell the dragon back to the person that I bought it for, for that same price, but... I did spend a decent chunk of money on gene-ing it? And they seem really upset now since to buy it back, it's like, a hassle at this point. And it really does seem like they genuinely didn't mean to put it up on the AH, so I don't know how the heck that happened. :/

I feel like we both lose out here. If I resell it for the amount they originally listed it, then I lose out on all those genes I spent on it, and that money too. But if they compensate me for the loss, then THEY have to pay way more just to get their dragon back, like extra fees on top of everything that they don't deserve either. (I mean I know they technically sold it, but like, an error is an error, you know?? I know you can "blame" them for making the error but like. It sucks to make some kind of mistake and then there's no easy fix to the situation / it's not something they meant to do and now they gotta pay more for an honest mistake. Like the genes I got were NOT CHEAP genes btw, like actual gem genes so uh... heckkk.) I just REALLY wish they'd messaged me before I did anything to it?? Because like it's been a few days now, and I get not everyone logs in all the time, but I just... ugh. This situation just really sucks, you know??

Also, I know the whole "once the dragon leaves your lair it's no longer yours" and that I technically own the dragon and don't HAVE to resell back to them, but like. I also get that it sucks to accidentally lose something you were attached to because you made a mistake. Everyone makes errors, does something when they're tired or I don't know and didn't mean to do something like list a dragon (maybe they meant to price a different one at that price?? I don't know). I'm just lamenting the fact that it's now become such a fiasco for everyone involved, and I don't have a clue what to do. I'm willing to resell the dragon to them. But I just don't know how to fix the other price difference in a way that's fair to both of us, and it's distressing.

It just feels like such a lose/lose situation for the both of us, and that super sucks. :/ Also I'm now highkey very stressed out about the whole ordeal and I don't know what to do. And I'm upset that they're upset. (they didn't get angry at me, they're just?? rightfully distraught over accidentally losing this dragon, which I think makes sense??)

Sorry for the long post. This situation sucks so much and I just needed to vent about it. Sighhhhhh. ughhHHhHhH. i'm already physically sick at the moment and dont need this extra stress. i just wanna play pretty pixel dragon in peace to unwind and have fun maybe. i don't need more stuff added onto my plate right now. :( upsetti spaghetti times. #FeelsBadMan blehhhh blarghhhh

#submission #long post #genes #g1s

[kebriones]

Translated parts of T. Kallifatides’ “Timandra" (PART 2)

Part 1 (and intro)

Part 3: coming soon

(p.102) Many hated him and many more loved him and did everything to please him. Like that merchant who sold all his belongings, took the money and went to give it to him. “I am for sale, of course” replied Alcibiades “but not with this amount” He wanted to be loved. “If I had been born a woman, I would have become an hetaera” he would say. “You were born a man and became a politician, it is the same” I told him. “I would have become a philosopher if it wasn’t for the various Platos” he joked. He had a thing against Plato, who everyone said would soon surpass everyone, both wise men, sophists and rhetoricians. And Socrates told in the agora of the dream he’s seen right before meeting him. He had seen a swan, the sacred bird, hiding in his embrace. The next day in the morning, Plato was standing outside his door along with his uncle. Alcibiades had his objections. “I know Socrates. It’s not enough for him to be the wisest human in greece, he must also have the best student. “But that’s what all teachers want” I said. “Perhaps…But Socrates doesn’t know that his best student will one day bury him in his writings.” Suddenly he spoke like an old man who see the youths as a threat. Life replaces us all. Only, Alcibiades did not want to understand it. Like so many others, like so many others. (transl. notes: that’s kinda sad there at the end wtf)

(p.116) Only one other human gave me this feeling. A singer, many years ago. I had invited her to my house for a dinner with a few friends. My daughter’s father was away at war*. When at last the rest left, the singer stayed with me, as if we had made some secret deal, even though in essence we didn’t know each other so well. The night was calm and warm. We sat one opposite the other without speaking, without wanting anything more than to sit like that, one opposite the other. Some time passed this way, when suddenly, but not unexpectedly, she started half-singing a melody and the silence around us got even bigger. Slowly her song grew like a small spring turns into a river and the river turns into sea. I had heard that song before but it seemed to me that I was hearing it for the first time and like I saw it being born inside her. At last, her voice became an irresistible temptation. I had to touch the source of that tortured, deep and victorious voice and I sat next to her, taking hold of her hand. What took place next had never happened to me before and it’s the most correct description of what I call the dithyramb of love. Because at her hand, at her thin fingers and her palm I could touch the song. I never felt this close to a human with the sole exception of my daughter. Because she is the song of my body, its highest note. And there, next to the singer, sleep took me, completely exhausted, as exhausted as I was when I had birthed my child. (transl. notes: timandra sleeps with several women throughout the book, her best friend roxani is the one who “takes her virginity” earlier in the book (interresting to read, as usually virginity is, as a patriarchy-fueled concept, focused around penetrative sex) and every time it’s described like some metaphysical experience. I have a personal aversion to some of the cheesiness but I think it’s worth mentioning) (*timandra at some point reveals that she has a daughter whose father is alcibiades, that she let herself conceive as an emotional reaction when he got married, but never told him about her, and from that point onward she often calls him “the father of my daughter”)

(p.119) I remember particularly one symposium, at which I was not invited, but Alcibiades took me with him nearly by force, only to piss off the rest of them, as most of them either were still in love with him or loved him once. First and foremost Aristophanes, sulky as always and with poisonous comments that found their mark like a persian archer. He lost no chance of ridiculing Alcibiades, his speech or his walk, and did everything he could so people wouldn't understand how in love he was, and perhaps he fooled some, but not me. (transl notes: i ship alcibiades and aristophanes with my entire shipping department, and if I may, here’s an AMAZING fanfic with them: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828574 I’ve read it a bunch of times, it’s so so good. )

He had recounted the story to me many times and the details were not always the same but in general the thing had as such: He had spent the night with one of his more persistent admirers. They woke up late and Alcibiades was in a rush to go to a quail fight. Luckily he had the bird with him, he took it under his chiton* and took off running to make it in time. Passing by the agora, he saw people gathered. His curiosity did not let him continue on his way, but he stopped to learn what it was all about. It turned out it was a fundraiser for the war expenses. He gave all he had on him and th epeople who saw his willingness clapped for him and asked him to give a speech. He was in a rush, but he hesitated to leave and in all the commotion his quail got loose. Immediately everyone started chasing the runaway. The bird was especially trained and gave a harsh fight, jumping here and there, attaching with its beak and talons, until someone funny shouted that it was easier to catch the bird’s master than the bird of the master. Of course the others started laughing at the joke’s double meaning. Alcibiades was not thrown off, after all he was never thrown off, and answered immediately that whoever catches the bird will have the right to try it too and naturally everyone broke their neck hunting the quail. The one who managed at the end to catch it was he who would later become one of his best friends and who unwittingly would destroy his life. It was Antiochus, the reckless pilot of his trireme. Some time later Alcibiades continued his way with the quail in his arms. But he had tasted something he had not tasted before, the drunkenness of power. For a few minutes he had all those people in the palm of his hand. “To be loved by everyone is the most dangerous poison” he said afterwards.”Since I tasted it I could not live without it” He spoke like that and meant without understanding it that he’d left love behind him. To be loved by everyone is the same as to be loved by nobody. Any hetaera could have told him that. But I doubt if that would change anything, since he believed not only that everyone loved him, but that they had to. He would consecrate his whole life to prove it.

(transl. notes: in regards to the quail incident, the word “bird” in greek is used to refer to genitals. Since this author does not often write in greek, I feel like the joke even in the original text doesn’t land exactly right, and the explanation he gives right after, of the double meaning is unnecessary if you’re writing for a greek audience but i think with some tweaks it would be great and very on-brand for alcibiades.)

Part 3 coming soon.

#alcibiades #timandra

[cetaceanhandiwork]

hi! i sent an anon ask to beesm'god about the adversarial feeling of advertisements, i think i sent it to her instead of you bc your anon was off? idr, i got brain problems.

anyway i dont have a very deep perspective into the ads business so yeah my envisioning of a two party tug of war was like, based on like, i guess youtube/google just obfuscating any other sides from each other bc they seem like they'd be influential enough to do that.

what are the parties that're standing off ?

so in the ads business, there are always at least three parties involved:

the advertisers, who have a message they want to get out, and money to burn on it

the publishers, who have an existing audience and want to make a buck on that audience without the audience having to pay that buck

the audience, whose attention the publisher is selling to the advertiser (pet peeve: there may be some audiences whose "personal information" gets sold but that's not google's business model; the personal information is a competitive advantage and google wants to keep that all to itself. it's just used to decide whose attention gets sold to which advertiser.)

in the modern era, there is often also a fourth party: the "network" or "exchange", which acts as a middleman and matchmaker between advertisers and publishers.

the audience usually has the least power in this chart. their only real option is to decide how they interact with the publisher: installing or uninstalling adblock,  dropping the pub entirely if they get too mad, etc.

advertisers, meanwhile, have a lot of leverage because they get to choose their battles. this leverage is proportional, not only to their absolute amount of money, but also their relative amount of money compared to other advertisers in the space. the less choice people have about whose money they take, the more influence the remaining people with money can exert. (raid shadow legends was able to earn its infamy, not b/c it was offering fat stacks for sponsored ad reads, but b/c it was selling sponsorships to publishers too small for anyone else to bother with.)

but the publisher (if they're big enough to work with advertisers directly) or the network (if there is one) also has leeway, b/c they get to choose what product (i.e. what sort of attention) they're offering to advertisers. they can compete on "I have an audience with such-and-such demographics", or “I have an audience that comes to me for such-and-such type of content”, etc.

and if a publisher is big enough, they always have the nuclear option of picking up their ball and going home... whether that means “taking their business to a different network/advertiser”, or “changing their business model to not rely on ad funding at all”. once again, if they form a big enough portion of an advertiser’s billboard space or a network’s inventory, this can force them to play ball. this type of leverage applies to a lot of things in tech; as a non-ads example, Twitter will probably never be kicked off the iOS app store for porn, because Apple knows that a Twitter exodus would actually cut into their userbase in a way that other smaller apps might not.

and yes, all of this is to some extent a matter of scale. google can tell small advertisers to accept its terms or go pound sand. but once you get into the same weight class - multinational corps vs other multinational corps - factors that are more structural than sheer “how big is your valuation” start to control.

okay. that all covered, let's come to the case of youtube specifically.

youtube's ads business originally had youtube as a network only. ads only appeared on content when the content's owner - the youtuber who posted it, or the rightsholding company whose music was used in it - has a deal with youtube saying "hey, run ads on my content and give me a cut".

this meant that, as a network, they had to find advertisers willing to run video ads on youtube videos. 

now, the vast majority of the video ads market - both in terms of “amount of money they have to throw around” and “amount of attention they want to buy” - is TV commercials. and TV commercials are produced by marketing firms whose concept of how ads work is... very 20th century, let’s say. they exist in a universe where you run ads just to make people recognize the word “coca cola” in a positive way, not to actually get people to buy a coke (because how would you even link the adview to the purchase?) their doctrine is focused on “brand recognition”, and as a result, they care a lot about “brand safety” - a nebulous industry term that basically means “will the place where my ad is shown make me look bad”.

for youtube, this meant that in order to court the TV commerical market and their giant piles of cash, they had to make their network’s rules such that publishers (at this point in the story, YouTube partners) could only run ads on “brand safe” content as seen through the eyes of someone stuck in the 80s. no drugs or tobacco, no “obscenity”, nothing “adult”. this used to be the situation where you heard about demonetization: big YT partners who are suddenly getting $0 for a video because they said something that an automated process thinks TV advertisers might find problematic.

so now that’s what advertisers on YT have been taught to expect about how their ads will be run. certainly any very large company running ads there will now demand it.

but now, in the interests of chasing the impossible dream called “endless growth”, youtube has stepped into the publisher role as well. for non-Partner videos, ads are still being run, but all the money goes to YT itself.

except... they already made the rules, and the rules are that advertisers can rest easy that the inventory they’re buying is “brand safe”. they can’t put “unsafe” videos back in the main inventory without risking losing the TV commercial people as customers. at best they would have to make a separate category for advertisers who’re willing to pay lower prices per view in exchange for running on questionable content... but if that did exist, you’d see much the same situation as ads on Tumblr: low-quality, perplexing outsider art, shilling for brands nobody’s ever heard of, which might be considered a win in itself.

now, could youtube simply ban all “brand unsafe” ads from its platform entirely? yeah, they could. but that would mean banning, uh, major news organizations like NPR because they sometimes run segments about ethnic strife or drug addiction... and it seems like they’re not willing to lose that type of publisher either, if only for fear of another video site coming along and eating their lunch.

so we’re in a weird, half-way space, where “demonetized” videos are maybe deprioritized for being recommended by the “you may also like” algorithms, but in the end they’re also being hosted for free, because YT is caught in limbo between large (corporate-scale) publishers who it can’t afford to be shopping around for a replacement platform, and large (corporate-scale) advertisers who as a bloc control youtube’s purse strings.

[liturgusakrattorum]

runes lore time? runes lore time.

the crew eventually manages to narrow down the source of the rune technology to an ancient society known only as the Animus. not much is known about them, but they seem to have been based around central america before eventually being absorbed into whatever the wk world's equivalent of the aztec empire is.

their fall is a little ironic, considering how much more advanced their technology was for the time period. which only begs the question -- what is it that caused them to fall so much earlier than their neighbors?

at the same time, paisley and corvus are searching for something called the Animus Engine -- the final piece of the rune technology that seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.

according to the few sources of information that exist about the Animus people, the Engine was the supposed birthplace of the runes, implying it was some form of a forge or temple (or, as some scholars speculate, even a combination of both). as such, the Engine is depicted in Animus artwork as having a specific place for every single rune its society ever created -- although what exactly happens when all the runes are reunited at the site remains unknown.

pave nature was never going to build atrocorp a new headquarters -- that was only the cover story to keep the public off their asses. their true plan is to locate the original remnants of the Engine and rebuild it from the ground up. as such, pave nature has been setting up excavation sites around the world to try and narrow down the location of the Engine itself.

the tortuga crew has their first encounter with paisley and corvus at one of these excavation sites. i’d say they probably have a vague awareness of their collaboration (kind of the same way we’d see a big company thing going on thanks to seeing it in passing on the news), but the nature of their work at the site would be enough to raise some suspicion from them. martin and chris manage to get another rune -- the orangutan -- from this site before paisley tries to chase them down.

meanwhile, zach, donita, and gourmand have all been participating in the Hunt with varying degrees of luck on their end.

donita’s rune-based fashion line was a hit! although an anonymous buyer with a suspiciously large amount of money seems to be taking up most of the collection for themselves.

gourmand, unfortunately, got the shortest end of the stick. the rune dust tasted like something you’d want to keep as far away from a plate of food as possible, so most of his plans flew out the window as quickly as they came. he sold the ones he collected off to the highest bidder -- who also chose to remain anonymous.

zach’s had good enough luck with the runes, all things considered. aside from the tortuga crew thwarting his plans to steal theirs from them, his zachbots managed to find a few on their own. he’s in about the same boat as aviva in terms of figuring out their nature; many of his inventions have failed to work with the runes’ power, but a few have shown promising potential, if he could get them to work properly. he’d have much more time to tinker around with them if that damn castellanos guy didn’t keep reaching out to him about that merger...

#wild kratts #wk runes au #wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee funney lore expansion go brrrrr #skip speaks

[therandomavenger]

My 2023 in Sales

I hardly ever look at my sales dashboard on the kdp site. I maybe check in once a week (or less) It’s not that I don’t care, its that looking at it too often drives me to despair. But tonight, I took a look to see how 2023 went. I’m not going to use specific numbers but focus on comparing this year’s performance to previous years (no one needs to see these numbers. I am not a bestseller). This is a much more hopeful way of looking at things.

I released 2 books last year: The Soul Cages, which was a standalone paranormal romance novella, and Blade of Shadows, Wings of Light, the doorstopper first book in my Ascension Apocalypse Urban Fantasy series. I was nervous about this, because these were both queer books, and I would be trying to break into a completely new audience for myself. I had no idea how that would go.

Well, I sold three times the number of total books than I sold in any year before. I made almost four times the amount of money.

All the Promised Stars was still my bestselling book, but I think its numbers are inflated because I spent a week in July advertising it and giving it away for free. So, that’s probably skewing the numbers a bit. I did make money from that book, but probably a quarter of those ‘sales’ were free downloads. Which, I’d done that in years before and not found many takers, so this is absolutely a victory.

But right behind ATPS was The Soul Cages. I sold almost as many copies of that. I did run a bargain booksy promotion combined with a 99 cents sale, and that helped. But still. A lot of people (for certain values of a lot) bought this book.

Right behind TSC was Blade of Shadows, Wings of Light. There’s a little bit of a drop off here, but it’s not as large as it could have been considering that I basically released this book into the wild and asked it to fend for itself. I promoted it on my social media, but I didn’t run any ads or a bargain booksy for it. It was so long, no one in the usual groups I can count on even wanted to review it (which, fair). So, I’m really happy it seems to have found an audience.

A couple of takeaways for me here.

I should keep writing queer books. I don’t absolutely suck at it! I’m as surprised as anyone!

Also, there’s a huge drop-off between book 1 and the rest of the Broken Stars books. I think I know why that is. I’ve gotten pretty good feedback on book one, but I pretty much wrapped up the story. It was intentional. It was sold as a romance book and the romance threads were closed off. Also, when romance readers read an entire series, they usually want a new romance in each subsequent book. They want that series to stay like romance novels. The Broken Stars books change genres into the romantic sci-fi drama category. That is not necessarily the same audience. The romance readers who came in liked the romance book but weren’t interested in the thriller that was book one, or the dramas that were books 3 and 4. That is because of the way I sold them. Going forward, I can refocus my marketing efforts to attract readers who would be more interested in what the rest of the books were.

That said, if people bought book 2, Among the Captive Stars, it looks like they went on to buy books three and four. I’ve done no marketing at all for these three books (except a blog tour I did for book 4). Huge drop off from 1 to 2, not much of a drop off at all between the other three books. Which means, when the right readers found the books, they read the rest of the series (I hope they stick around for the next 2 books). If I refocus the marketing on book 1, maybe I can get more of those readers who will stay for the whole thing.

Also, my standalone romance did well. It was actually a romance. I was pulling no bait and switch series shenanigans here. People liked it. It got some complimentary reviews. Some people lamented that it was too short, but that just tells me they wanted more. I should absolutely release more standalone queer speculative romances. I’m working on one now, in fact! And it left Novella territory a long time ago.

I feel really good about all of that information.

I don’t focus a lot on sales because that is not why I do this. It does appear that, as small a number as the dollar amount is, I am slowly finding an audience. I just need to market correctly to find the people who will love my books. They are out there. I’ve never had a return (if that means anything)

Also, about 40% of my monetary earnings were from Kindle Unlimited Page Reads. As tempting as going wide seems, I’m probably staying in the KU program, for now. We’ll see if that dries up in the future.

So, that was my 2023 in sales. If people saw the actual numbers, they would laugh. But Every year my audience grows and that is what is most important to me.

#blog post #indie publishing #book sales #self publishing

[bulldogcannabispalmsprings]

Dive into a Premier Cannabis Dispensary in Rancho Mirage

Nestled amidst the Coachella Valley, Rancho Mirage boasts its own kind of countryside luxury, one that’s rapidly connecting with the world of cannabis. Rancho Mirage hasn’t stayed the same while change has been blowing through California. People in the town are becoming more interested in cannabis, both for medical and recreational reasons. As the trend grows, so does the need for a cannabis dispensary in Rancho Mirage  that has the best service and goods. Today we’ll take a dive into why BullDog Cannabis is such a dispensary.

BullDog Cannabis Is One Step Ahead of the Rest When you walk into BullDog, you’ll know right away that it’s not just another cannabis dispensary in Rancho Mirage. Our atmosphere feels like a real shop. Our farm-to-counter mindset makes sure that our customers get the freshest flowers, which are grown and sold in the same building. No brokers and no storing for a long time—just pure, unaltered quality.

Rancho Mirage’s cannabis activities include educational workshops and events with a cannabis theme. This shows how cannabis is slowly becoming a part of Rancho Mirage’s society. And as people try out different things to do with weed, BullDog Cannabis happily stands as a beacon, giving them high-quality goods to make their experiences better.

Phenohunting Specialist BullDog’s dedication goes beyond just selling good weed. Our on-board pheno-hunting expert is always looking for the best phenotypes to make sure that our clients only get to try the best strains. It’s a never-ending quest for beauty, and we make sure that every leaf and bud shows how hard we work.

Pheno-hunting is a key part of the search for the best weed. It includes carefully choosing certain traits, which are different ways that a strain’s genes show themselves. The first step is to get a range of seeds or clones, which each have their own genetic potential. BullDog Cannabis has a pheno-hunting expert who carefully looks at and grows these genetic differences to find special traits that lead to better cannabis products. Also, if you’d like to know more about it, we invite you to check out our blog where you can find all sorts of useful information regarding cannabis and our services.

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Also, don’t put it in your refrigerator or freezer. Extreme cold can make these valuable trichomes hard and breakable, which can cause them to fall off. If you’ve spent money on good weed, you should also do the investment on how you store it. If you have a little extra to spare, consider the cannabis-specific humidors or humidity packs that help keep the right amount of wetness. Your future self will thank you as they enjoy how fresh each bud is.

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[lord-radish]

I feel like smoking has come back in a huge way, and vaping was probably the catalyst for this revival.

I'm gonna preface this by saying that I believe that vaping can be a positive and productive alternative to smoking for people who are trying to quit tobacco. I'm critical of how the tobacco industry has co-opted vapes, but I recognise how responsible use of a vaporiser can help people wean themselves off of smoking.

Rather, I think the massive push that vapes got in the latter half of the 2010's, its increasing popularity since then and corporate pushing of single-use vapes has led to a massive rise in smoking - and as a part of that popularization of vaping, non-narcotic vapes have served as a gateway for kids and teenagers into smoking.

The reason I'm saying that smoking has made a huge comeback is due to the amount of smoke shops that's opened in my town over the last few years. Back in 2013, we had one dedicated smoke shop/souvenir shop - our local video store went out of business and a smoke shop named TSG moved in. Before that, our supermarkets all had smokes, and so did some of the petrol stations - let's say that we had about four or five places to buy smokes in town.

Since 2020, that number has doubled.

We have a Smokemart down the road, a Cignall around the corner from that, a vaping shop with smoking paraphernalia - and in the last month, a paraphernalia shop opened on the main street with hookah units and other stuff. It advertises smoking accessories and vapes in the front window in huge printed letters. If you count a local import candy store that sells hookah units as well, that's five more places in town since 2020 where you can buy tobacco, vapes and other smoking paraphernalia. Literally, in the span of three years, smoke shops have DOUBLED in this town.

And while my town is fairly big and bustling, we're out in buttfuck nowhere. We're like a satellite town with a lot of smaller villages and stuff hanging around. We're not a small city like Wagga or Orange, we're only just scratching 10,000 people.

And what makes this so bizarre is that my town had the same few tobacconists for decades. You bought smokes at the supermarket or the petrol station. My mum's a smoker, she's always bought her smokes from the store. TSG, which I mentioned before, came in about ten years ago; it stuck around, but no-one else came to town to sell tobacco products.

Since 2020, though? TWICE AS MANY SMOKE SHOPS.

This correlates with an uptick of vaping, both in the general populace and with schoolkids. The police went to one of our high schools and checked like fifty lockers, and forty two of them had vapes. That's not a figure I got from the cops, that's a figure from one of the students who was there.

My mum, who I mentioned before as someone who's been smoking for longer than I've been alive? Even she's getting in on the single-use vape train. You can walk into a shop, buy a vape in a box and walk out. New places are opening all the time, and as well as attracting a new wave of clientele, you're also getting old-school, dyed-in-the-wool smokers giving it a go.

Like there's something seriously fucking wrong happening. It's like how in the span of ten years, we've had mobile betting apps flooding the market and advertising at all hours of the day - it used to be reserved for sports broadcasts.

I don't mean to shit on smokers. People smoke. I drink a lot, I get how addictive substances get their hooks in and make you feel better. This isn't a judgement call about people who smoke - my mum smokes, and for better or for worse, I love her.

My beef is with the rampant revitalisation of a predatory industry that makes money hand over fist peddling addictive substances, with this new wave of profits coming from pushing a new, hip smoking product that can legally be sold to children.

I just see how much it's been taking off in my tiny corner of the woods, and it feels really fucked up and wrong. I don't want these fucking leeches making smoking more visible and accessible than it already is.

#smoking #vaping #tobacco #vape #so two additions: first of all this doesn't even begin to cover my in-depth thoughts on smoking #which are adjacent to 'I disagree with increasing the price of smokes because it punishes the people who are the most addicted' #while of course being entirely critical of an industry that peddles cancer and addiction for filthy lucre #secondly: my workplace employs schoolkids between the hours of 4pm and 7pm #they do basic tasks like folding linen and putting stuff through the roller. the heavy stuff like unloading washers and dryers is my job #i heard about the police bust on vapes from one of the juniors directly. even he fucking vapes #and this isn't like some cusp-of-18 situation where you get a headstart on stuff like that. i won't share their age but it's messed up

[buziness101]

Best Features for Lesser Cost with Secondhand Mobile

New phones out in the market have a certain fair amount because they come with the latest technology and features designed to perfectly fit the activities we are now doing today. Secondhand phones can be one of your best options if you’re looking to save money from buying new phones. However, it doesn’t guarantee you that the product is good, but not all second-hand phones are faulty or damaged. You have three options when it comes to second-hand phones. You can buy regular second-hand cellular phones owned by someone and sell them to you. There are refurbished and reconditioned phones in which both can be sold at affordable prices than just buying new ones. Let’s look at each of its differences.

Types of Second-hand phones

1. Refurbished phones - among other types this is more expensive since it’s been returned by the previous owner due to some change in the decision and the packaging has been opened. The manufacturer thoroughly checks the and certified it for resale and it’s no less likely it has a difference from the new one, however, it’s no longer on its original packaging.

2. Reconditioned phones - these are phones that are already used mostly are used as rental phones, rented out by companies for business use though on some occasions they are used phones. These phones are sent back to the manufacturer and completely tested, and some parts may be replaced. Once it’s tested in good condition it will be certified for resale.

3. Second-Hand phones - these are also used and reconditioned but no guarantee that it’s been tested and certified as ready to use. This is riskier compared to the other two. If you want to buy on a website you might find that site that offers a guaranteed testing process, you can also buy from person to person and it’s much better to see the person before agreeing to buy to make sure it’s working condition.

Things you need to know before buying a Second-Hand Phone

• You need to choose a device - first you have to decide what handset you want and take age and specifics into account.

• You should know your price expectation - try to get a look on websites like eBay, Amazon, and Craigslist to search for prices and make a note of each grade.

o Grade A - looks new with minor signs of handling o Grade B- few signs of cosmetic damage like scratches o Grade C - handset look used with signs of wear}

• You should think about your carrier - if you like a carrier then you need to make sure the phone you will buy is compatible with it. You can check if the handset is unlocked by a service provider.

• You must not be caught by Thieves - it’s a must to check the device is not stolen. You can check by dialing *#06# on the phone call screen, then settings > General>About for iPhone to check the status. For Samsung, you can go to the settings menu>About phone> status.

• You need to choose your buying method - you can choose from the direct seller route via sites like eBay, Amazon, or Gumtree or take a refurbished phone route from companies that fixies faulty phones.

You get Benefits from Your Old Phone - You can choose to sell your old one to add a few dollars and get enough to pay for a new one. Advantages of second-hand mobile phones

• It’s obviously affordable.

• It meets your psychological satisfaction

• It has a higher keep value

• You can have more storage for less price

• It helps the environment

There are various authorize and trusted website where you can buy and sell second-hand mobile phones. It is easy and secure and you got to have variety of options at a cheapest price possible. You can still enjoy some of the good benefits same as buying new phones without wasting much of your money.

Check out more affordable second-hand phones here at our website https://www.markettplace.net

[heylookitsyc]

My savior, Mammon!

Pairing: Mammon x Reader

Game: Obey Me! - One Master To Rule Them All

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: You can count on Mammon to save you when you find yourself in a small predicament.

Warning(s): None

Note: This story was originally uploaded on my Quotev @HeyLookItsYC.

Story is down below!

~

Mammon’s birthday was nearing once again, and this year you were determined to find the perfect gift. However, you were having a difficult time finding something for him. The stores surrounding you sold many flashy items that you knew the second-born would love, but the little amount of Grimm that you had in your card limited your options.

Reaching a shop that sold many expensive-looking outfits, your fingers lightly touched the glass of the window display.

“Maybe I can get a new jacket for him?” you said to yourself, staring at a mannequin that modeled a jacket similar to the one Mammon wore. “But what color would I even give him? What if he has this jacket color already-”

“Can I help you with anything?”

A voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned your head to see a young demon around your age standing at the store entrance. You knew he was an employee based on the clothes that he wore, and his nametag told you that his name was Dai.

“I, uhm…” You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck with a nervous laugh. “You heard me talking to myself, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he answered, amusement in his tone. “Don’t worry, it was kind of cute.”

“Oh.” You felt your face heat up at the compliment. “Thank you, I guess.”

“No need to thank me.” He waved a hand, gesturing you to follow him into the store. “I have a new shipment of styles that you might like. Why don’t you follow me?”

“Alright, thanks!” you exclaimed, and as you followed him into the store you failed to notice the dangerous smile that now played on his lips.

~

“The material of this one is nice, and though it’s comfortable I don’t know if it’ll be good enough for Mammon,” you muttered, holding the sleeve of a jacket up to your face. As your thumb brushed over the clothing, you were suddenly caught off guard by another hand grabbing onto yours.

“Mammon, you say?” Dai was now holding your hand tightly, his much taller frame hovering over you. “Is this why you are searching for clothes?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Hm.”

You felt yourself suddenly pushed back, landing on top of the checkout counter. “Hey, what’re you-!?”

Your words were cut off at the sight of Dai hovering on top of you, hands positioned on both sides of your head so that you would be unable to escape.

The male leaned in close to your ear, and you cringed slightly at the feeling of his warm breath hitting your neck. “The moment you mentioned Mammon,” he whispered, his hands slowly moving to grab onto yours, “I knew that you were the human exchange student that he wouldn’t shut up about. How lucky am I, honestly? To have you walk into the same store he always visits...” He chuckled.

“Let me go,” you demanded, struggling to escape his grasp.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll- ah!” 

You suddenly felt the weight on top of you remove itself, revealing a very pissed off Mammon.

“What the hell do ya’ think you’re doin' with my human?” The second-born was quick to pull you up, an arm wrapping around you protectively. You felt your cheeks warm at the action.

“Well,” Dai looked annoyed, “before you so rudely interrupted, I was just showing the human a preview of what would’ve happened if they came home with me tonight.”

You felt Mammon’s grip on you tighten.

“Hey,” you said gently. “Let’s get out of here. He isn’t worth it, Mammon.”

“... fine.”

You were slightly surprised; you had expected him to at least argue or put up a fight, but he didn’t.

Just as the two of you were making your way out of the shop, you heard Dai call out to you.

“You can leave now, but you know you’ll come back once you realize how much of a scumbag he really is!”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Mammon had already left your side and tackled the other demon to the ground.

~

“That wasn’t smart of you, Mammon,” you chastised.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

The two of you were sitting at one of the tables outside of a cafe; other than the few looks of confusion and curiosity you received from the other customers, no one really paid you any mind. You didn’t want to just take up a table without ordering anything, however, so you had bought two red coffees for you two to enjoy.

“You can never go back to that store again, you know.” You sat next to Mammon, a dampened napkin in your hand as you gently cleaned a small cut he had on his cheek.

“I don’ care,” he grumbled. He pulled his shades down, looking anywhere but at you. “That stupid employee deserved it.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were jealous, Mammon,” you laughed, and you finished cleaning up the last of his injuries before folding the napkin and placing it aside.

“... whatever, stupid human.” He took a drink of his red coffee.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes. The cafe was a busy one; you recognized some other students ordering drinks or sitting around with others, and since you were seated outside you were also able to see the many demons walking throughout the street. It was darker than usual, and you knew that it would almost be time for dinner at the House of Lamentation.

“Oi.”

“Hm?” You hummed in response, taking a sip of your coffee. “What’s up?”

“Next time ya’ go out, ask me to go with ya’,” Mammon said, a light blush on his face. “You’re just a human, and that alone is enough to make ya’ a target to a buncha demons.”

“I couldn’t bring you with me this time.”

You fiddled with your drink, a small frown making its way onto your face when you realized you still hadn’t bought him anything for his birthday.

He noticed your change in expression. “Hey, hey! Whatcha lookin’ so sad for?”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you muttered, giving him an apologetic look. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, and I still haven’t gotten you anything.”

He stared at you, the blush on his face more obvious than before. “I-is… is that why ya’ went out?” he asked, to which you nodded to.

“Yeah. I wanted to buy something that you would really like, but I couldn’t find anything worth buying,” you explained. 

“Stupid human…”

You felt something warm surround your hand, and you looked down to see Mammon’s hand holding yours. When you looked up at his face, however, the male was looking in the opposite direction with cheeks so red that he almost looked like a tomato.

“As long as I have ya’ with me, I don’ want anythin’ else for my birthday,” he said. “Except presents from my brothers, of course. Lucifer froze Goldie again, so I've got no spendin’ money.”

“I’m sure you’ll get some good presents from your brothers,” you assured, and Mammon’s eyes brightened at your words.

“Do ya’ know what they got me?”

“I can’t say,” you said teasingly, causing him to groan and lean back in his chair.

“If it ain't money, I don’ want-” He was interrupted by the kiss that you planted on his cheek. “!?”

“You’ll have a great birthday tomorrow, Mammon. I’ll make sure of it,” you said. You finished the last of your coffee, standing up from your seat. “We should get going now, the others will be calling us for dinner soon.”

Finishing up his own drink, Mammon stood up as well. His free hand shoved into his pocket, the other still holding yours, he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” you questioned, to which he just shook his head to. “Mammon, tell me, please?”

“No.”

“Mammon~”

“Dammit, fine!” He looked at you for a moment before looking away. “I said-” His voice suddenly went quiet, muttering the last few words.

“You said…?”

“I said I love ya’, stupid human,” he said. Like always when he was nervous, he looked around and shifted in place. “Now let’s get outta here, I wanna eat dinner.”

As you walked with him on your way back to the House of Lamentation, you moved his arm so that it wrapped around your shoulders while you were still holding hands. You glanced over to see Mammon looking at you in surprise, causing you to smile.

“I love you too, Mammon.”

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #mammon #obey me mammon #mammon avatar of greed #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x you #obey me mammon x reader #obey me imagine

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

.

.

.

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails​

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate​

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-

“You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”

No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.

“THANK YOU???”

You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood. 
As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.

“Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter​

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown​

------------------------------- By @buglife​

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg.  “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips​

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie​

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris​

------------------------------- By @payasita​

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

-

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

-

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

-

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

[potteresque-ire]

More ask answer about Word of Honour (山河令, WoH) and the so-called “Dangai 101 phenomenon” under the cut ~ with all the M/M relationships shown on screen, does it mean improved acceptance / safety for the c-queer community?

Due to its length (sorry!), I’ve divided the answer into 3 parts: 1) Background 2) Excerpts from the op-eds 3) Thoughts This post is PART 1 ❤️. As usual, please consider the opinions expressed as your local friendly fandomer sharing what they’ve learned, and should, in no ways, be viewed as necessarily true. :)

(TW: homophobic, hateful speech quoted)

After WoH had started airing, I had waited for one of China’s state-controlled media to publish opinion pieces about the show. Specifically, I’d like to know ~ what is the administration’s current take on Dangai  (耽改), as a genre? How does it characterise the closeness of the same-sex leads—the closeness that is suppressed when the original IP, of the genre Danmei (耽美) was converted for visual media presentation?

This is important, as China is a country where the government’s attitude becomes the official public attitude. The state opinion pieces will be quoted and parroted, especially if they come from heavy-weight sources (state-controlled media also have their importance/influence hierarchy). Production of the upcoming Dangai dramas will adjust their scripts accordingly. Marketing tactics will also adjust, make sure it doesn’t spread “the wrong message”; Dangai and Danmei dramas have both been pulled off shelves during or immediately after its airing before (Addicted 上癮 and Guardian 鎮魂, respectively), despite having already passing the censorship board.

If a heavy-weight state opinion piece pans the one-lead-fawning-over-the-other scenes in WoH (there are a few of them), for example, scenes / lines of such suggestive nature will likely disappear from the upcoming Dangai dramas for at least a year or two. If the critique spills over to a harsh stance against the presence of queers in Chinese media, all future Dangai dramas can become strict “socialist-brotherhood” stories, their “no homo” message reinforced by, for example, by inserting a female lead (or changing one of the leads to female).

Whether the official public opinion equates the true public opinion or not, public behaviour in China is quickly driven by the official public opinion. Example: the Xi regime’s conservative stance on queer issues has already translated to a quick deterioration of queer tolerance in China; open expressions that were tolerated, even welcomed, just several years ago are now met with significant hostility in the public.

This is a reflection of the nature of their government. A quick thought experiment may explain this. Take … jaywalking. It’s probably fair to say we’ve all committed this “crime” before?

Will you still jaywalk if your government declares it immoral to do so? Where I am, in the United States, the answer is definitely a no. The public will probably laugh at (and make memes about) the poor official who made the declaration, kindly ask the government to do something useful for once (f*** off), and keep jaywalking.

Now, what if the declaration comes with a law that includes a one-year prison term + lifelong criminal record for jaywalking? Let’s say this law is fully executable and irreversible, given this being a thought experiment—nothing you, or the public, can say or do can contest it.

Will you still jaywalk, even if you disagree with government’s stance that the act is immoral? You’ve got a neighbour who continues to defy the law. Will you think twice before letting your young loved ones go out with them?

Very soon, jaywalking becomes “bad”—even though such “badness” had little moral basis at its origin. It is bad because the government has “characterised” it to be so—an authoritarian government that doesn’t allow challenge of the characterisation.

The retention of queer elements in Dangai is the jaywalking in the example. The Chinese government stepping in to characterise (定性) an event, a phenomenon etc is common, and the people know the drill well that they fall in line quickly.  

If a powerful state-controlled media publish a negative opinion piece on the queer elements in Dangai / Danmei, therefore, those elements can disappear overnight.

My question had been: will the state do it? The Xi regime has made its distaste for LGBT+ representation in visual media abundantly clear with its NRTA directives. However, while the Chinese government typically puts ideology (意識型態) as its Guiding Principle, exceptions have always been made for one reason. One word.

Money.

TU is a legendary financial success story every production company (Tencent itself included) wants to replicate. As a result, there are ~ 60 Danmei IPs (book canon) with their copyright sold for Dangai dramas; this long line of Danmei dramas in the horizon has been nicknamed “Dangai 101”, after the name of the show “Produce 101” Dd was dance instructor in. These dramas are all competing to be the next TU by profit.

Adoration from fans is nice, but money is what matters.

C-ent is currently in a financial bleak winter. The anti-corruption, anti-tax-fraud campaign started by the Xi regime in 2018, which cumulated to a sudden (and unofficial) collection of 3 years of back-taxes from studios and stars, has drained a significant amount of its capital; the number of new TV dramas being filmed fell 45% between 2018 and 2019, and production companies have been closing by the tens of thousands. The tightening of censorship rules also means production is associated with more risk. The commercial sector outside c-ent is also eager for replications of TU’s success—they need more “top traffic” (頂流) idols like Gg and Dd whose fans are sufficiently devoted to drive the sales of their products. Such “fan economy” would benefit the government, even if it doesn’t have direct stakes in the companies in and outside c-ent. People’s Daily, the Official State Newspaper, previously published a positive opinion piece on fan economy in 2019, estimating its worth at 90 billion RMB (~13.7 billion USD) per year.

But if the state allows the queer elements in Dangai’s to pass the censorship board (NRTA) for profit, how can it do so with the current “No homo” directive in place? From previous experience (scarce as it may be), the queerness has to be sufficiently obvious for the shows to make the profit everyone is wishing for. Dangai dramas in which the leads’ romantic relationship remains subtle have not sold the way TU does, even if they are well-reviewed and feature famous, skilled actors (as Winter Begonia 鬓边不是海棠红 last year.)

NRTA, and the government behind it, can’t just say I’m turning a blind eye to the flirting and touching for the money. What can it say then?

Here’s what I’d thought—what it can say, or do, is to “characterise” these Dangai dramas in a way that leave out its queerness. It did so for TU. TU’s review by the overseas version of People’s Daily devoted a grand total of two characters to describe WWX and LWJ’s relationship—摯友 (“close friend”). The rest of the article was devoted to the drama’s aesthetics, its cultural roots. (The title of the article: 《陳情令》：書寫國風之美 Chen Qing Ling: Writing the Beauty of National Customs).

How could it do that? The State’s power ensuring few questioning voices aside, I’ve been also thinking about the history and definition of Danmei (耽美)—Dangai’s parent genre as the causes. Based on the history and definition, I can think of 3 ways the queer elements in Danmei (耽美) can be characterised by the state, 2 of which provide it with the wiggle room, the movable goalposts it needs should it choose to want to overlook the queerness in Dangai.

The 3 characterisations I’ve thought of, based on the history and definition of Danmei (耽美) are:

1) The queer characterisation, which focuses on its homoerotic element. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is gay.

2) The “traditional BL” characterisation, which focuses on BL’s historic origin as a “by women, for women” genre. The M/M setup is viewed as an escapist protest against the patriarchy, a rejection of traditional gender roles; displays of M/M closeness are often “candies” for the female gaze. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is women’s fantasy.

3) The aesthetic characterisation, which focuses on beauty—from the beauty of the characters, the beauty of a world without harm to the romance. * Summary for the characterization: Danmei is pretty.

The queer characterisation (1) is well-understood, and likely the default characterisation if it is to be made by the fraction of i-fandom I’m familiar with. Most i-fans I’ve met, myself included, would likely and automatically associate the M/M relationships in The Untamed  (TU) and WoH with queerness.

The “traditional BL” characterisation (2), meanwhile, equates Danmei with BL as the genre of homoerotic works developed in 1970’s Japan for women comic readers, and has been widely interpreted from a feminist point of view.

Under such interpretation of “traditional BL” works, the double male lead setup wasn’t meant to be an accurate depiction of homosexuality. It wasn’t about homosexuality at all. Rather, it was about the removal of women and along with it, the rage, the eye-rolling, the unease women readers had often felt when attempting to interact with mainstream romance novels of the time, in which the female leads had mostly been confined to traditional women roles, and their virtue, their traditional feminine traits.

The M/M setup therefore acted as a “shell” for a het relationship that allowed removal of such social constraints placed on women. The lead with whom the woman audience identified was no longer bound to the traditional role of women, such as being the caregiver of the family. The lead could instead chase their dreams and roam the world, as many contemporary women already did or aspired to do; they were no longer limited to playing the passive party in life and in the relationship—and they enjoyed such freedom without risking the love, the respect the other male protagonist felt for them.

BL, in this traditional sense, has therefore been interpreted as an answer for, and a protest against the heteropatriarchal gender norm still dominant in societies deeply influenced by Confucianism, including Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, China. The M/M setup is, at heart, (het) women’s fantasy. The inclusion of two young-and-beautiful male leads also satisfy “the female gaze” ~ the popularity of BL among het women has therefore been compared to the popularity of lesbian porn among het men. In both cases, the audience is drawn not for the homosexual element but by the presence of double doses of sexual attraction.

(Please forgive me if any of my wording comes as disrespectful! I’m not used to talking about these topics.)

The availability of the “traditional BL” characterisation (2) is key to bypassing queerness as a topic in the discussions of Danmei (耽美).

The aesthetic characterisation (3) is very closely related to 2) in origin, but deserves its own point as a characterisation that can stand on its own, and may be more obscure to the English-speaking fandom given the common English translation of Danmei (耽美) as Boy’s Love.

Boy’s Love, as a name, amplifies the queer characterisation (1) and de-emphasises the aesthetic characterisation (3); Danmei (耽美), meanwhile, does the reverse.

Where does the name Danmei come from?

When BL was first developed in Japan, it used to have a now out-of-fashion genre name: Tanbi. Tanbi was borrowed from same name describing a late 19th century / early 20th century Japanese literary movement, known as Tanbi-ha and was inspired by Aestheticism in England. Aestheticism “centered around the doctrine that art exists for the sake of its beauty alone, and that it need serve no political, didactic, or other purpose”. Along the same line, the core belief of authors of Tanbi-ha was that art should celebrate beauty and reject the portrayal of ugliness in human nature, the darkness of reality:

…Tanbi writers argued that the ideas of naturalism writers such as “objectivism,” “truth is more important than beauty” and so on would “oppress human beings’ desire” so as to “lose beauty and human nature.” Accordingly, they insisted on “acute mental and emotional sensibility” [Ye, 2009].

(Source, with more details on Tanbi.)

Neither romance nor homosexuality were requirements for works in the original Tanbi-ha genre. BL borrowed the name Tanbi because its early authors saw their work created under the same principles: the emphasis on the beauty of their characters, their love (romantic and platonic), in a world that was also beautiful and untouched by ugliness such as sexism and homophobia.

The stubborn persistence on keeping one’s eyes trained on the beautiful, the willingness to turn a blind eye to reality for the sake of the beauty is built-in in the genre’s name. Tanbi  meant more than beauty, aesthetics; its kanji form was written as 耽美;  耽 = to sink, drown in, to  over-indulge in; 美 =  beauty.

Tanbi, therefore, literally means to drown in, to over-indulge in beauty.

Over time, as the genre expanded its writing style, Tanbi eventually fell out of favour as BL’s genre name in Japan. However, as it gained popularity in the Sinosphere in the 1990s, starting with Taiwan and Hong Kong, the kanji of Tanbi was retained as the Chinese name of the genre.

In Mandarin Chinese, 耽美 is pronounced Danmei. A hyperfocus on the aesthetics, the utopian aspects of traditional BL is therefore retained in Danmei by its name. People’s Daily could therefore devote its review of TU on its aesthetics. Realism, including politics and all discussions of social issues, can therefore be swept aside in the name of respecting the genre’s tradition.

I’ve mostly been reading about and observing c-fandom, and I believe these 3 characterisations have all attracted its own kind of fans. Fans who care and talk about queer issues even when it isn’t encouraged by their sociopolitical environment, who shine a light upon these issues in their fan works. Fans who treat the M/M leads as if they were a traditional cishet couple, such as calling one of the leads 老婆 (wife) and assigning him biologically female functions when needed (via, for example, the ABO trope). Fans who insist the works must meet their beauty standards, rejecting those that fail (for example, if the leads are not good looking enough) by claiming they’re there for Danmei, not Danchou (耽醜, “over-indulgence on ugliness”). Fans who are drawn to the genre by a combination of these characterisations.

By the history and definition of the genre, all the above reasons for fanning Danmei are as valid, as legitimate as one another.

I thought about this related question then: are c-fans of the second (traditional BL characterisation) and third (aesthetic characterisation) groups homophobic? When I first asked this question, I—a fan whose fandom experience had been entirely in English-speaking communities—assume the answer was yes. I thought, in particular, the insistence of treating Danmei’s M/M couples as cishet couples in a homosexual shell had to be conscious queer erasure. How can anyone ignore the same-sexness of the leads? How can anyone talk about Danmei without associating it with homosexuality?

However, as I read more—again, specifically about c-fandom, and in Chinese—I realised the answer may be a little more complex.

Previously, I had largely thought about homophobia in terms of individual attitudes. This has to do with my current environment (liberal parts of the United States), in which the choice to accept or reject the queer community has become a close to personal choice. Pride flags fly all over the city, including the city hall, every summer, and most churches welcome the LGBT+ community. I hadn’t considered how an environment in which queers have never enjoyed full social exposure, in which education of related topics is sorely lacking, would affect Danmei’s development as a genre.

In such an environment, it is difficult for Danmei to evolve and incorporate up-to-date understanding of RL queerness.

The consequence I can see is this: Danmei is more likely to be “stuck” in its historical characterisation as (het) women’s fantasy inside than outside the Great Firewall, with its queerness de-emphasised if not erased—and it draws fans who are attracted to this kind of characterisation accordingly. This is, perhaps, reflected by the fact that the (het) women-to-queer ratio of Danmei / BL fans is significantly higher in China than in the West (Table 1 in this article summarises how Danmei / BL fans have split between different genders and sexual orientation in the Sinosphere vs the West in different research studies).

Another driving force I can see for Danmei to retain BL’s traditional feminist and aesthetic characterisations: women in China are not free from the social pressure that led to the birth of BL in 1970’s Japan. While many of them have achieved financial freedom through work and have high education, the young and educated have been subjected to immense pressure to get married and have children especially in the past decade.

In 2007, the China’s state feminist agency, the All-China Women’s Federation (中華全國婦女聯合會), coined the term 剩女 (literally, “leftover women”) for unmarried, urban women over 27 years old. The government started a campaign that, among other things, associated women’s education level with ugliness, and their unmarried status with pickiness, moral degeneracy. The reason behind the campaign: birth rates are plummeting and the state wants educated women, in particular, to nurture a high quality, next generation workforce. More importantly, the government sees a threat in the M/F sex imbalance (high M, low F) that has commonly been attributed to the country’s “one child policy” between 1979-2015, which encouraged female infanticide / abortion of female foetuses in a culture that favours surname-carrying boys. The state fears the unmarried men will become violent and/or gay, leading to “social instability and insecurity”. Therefore, it wants all women, in particular those who are educated, to enter the “wife pool” for these unmarried men. (Source 1, Source 2: Source 2 is a short, recommended read).

For Chinese women, therefore, patriarchy and sexism is far from over. Escapist fantasies where sexism is removed—by removing women from the picture—are therefore here to stay.

Danmei is therefore not queer literature (同志文學). The difference between Danmei and queer literature is highlighted by this reportedly popular saying (and its similar variations) in some Danmei communities:

異性戀只是傳宗接代，同性戀才是真愛 Heterosexuality is only for reproduction. Only homosexuality is true love.

The attitude towards heterosexuality is one of distaste, viewed as a means to an end the speaker has no interest in. On the contrary, homosexuality is idealised, reflecting the disregard / lack of understanding of some Danmei fans have towards the RL hardships of c-queers. The ignorance may be further propagated by gate-keeping by some Danmei fans for safety reasons, keeping queer discussions away from their communities for fear that their favourite hangouts would meet the same uncertain fate of other communities that previously held open queer discussions, such as the Weibo gay and lesbian supertopics. Such gatekeeping can, again, be easily enforced using tradition as argument: the beauty 美 is Tanbi and Danmei (耽美), remember, includes the beauty of utopia, where ugly truths such as discrimination do not enter the picture. A Danmei that explores, for example, the difficulty of coming out of the closet is no longer Danmei, by its historical, aesthetic definition.

[I’ve therefore read about c-queers viewing Danmei with suspicion, if not downright hostility; they believe the genre, by ignoring their RL challenges and casting them as beautiful, even perfect individuals, and in some cases, by fetishising them and their relationships, only leads to more misconceptions about the queer community. Dangai, meanwhile, has been viewed with even more distaste as potential weapons by the state to keep gays in the closet; if the government can shove the Danmei characters into the “socialist brotherhood” closet, it can shove them as well.

I haven’t yet, however, been able to tease out the approximate fraction of c-queers whose views of Danmei and Dangai is negative. The opposing, positive view of the genres is this: they still provide LGBT+ visibility, which is better than none and it would’ve been close to none without Danmei and Dangai; while Danmei may skim over the hardships of being queer, fan works of Danmei are free to explore them—and they have.

This article provides insights on this issue. @peekbackstage’s conversation with a Chinese film/TV director in Clubhouse is also well worth a read.]

That said, Danmei can only be dissociated from the queer characterisation if there’s a way to talk about the genre without evoking words and phrases that suggest homosexuality—something that is difficult to do with English. Is there?

In Chinese, I’d venture to say … almost. There’s almost a way. Close enough to pass.

The fact that M/M in traditional BL has been developed and viewed not as queer but as a removal of F also means this: queerness isn’t “built-in” into the language of Danmei. The name Danmei itself already bypasses a major “queer checkpoint”: it’s impossible to refer to a genre called Boy’s Love and not think about homosexuality.

Here’s one more important example of such bypass. Please let me, as an excuse to put these beautiful smiles in my blog, show this classic moment from TU; this can be any gif in which the leads are performing such suggestive romantic gestures:

How can I describe this succinctly? In English?

Two men acting in love? Er. That’s… the definition of gay, almost.

Two men acting gay? Well. GAY.

Right. Fine. Let’s go negative. Queerbaiting? … Still gay, because the word “queer” is in there.

[Pie note: for the record, I don’t think TU or WoH is queer-baiting.]

Personally, I find it impossible to describe the GIF above in English that I do not automatically associate with RL romantic love between two men, with homosexuality. But can I do it in Chinese?

… Yes.

There’s a term, 賣腐 (pronounced “maifu”), literally, “selling 賣 the rot 腐”, derived from the term known among i-fans as fujoshi and written, in kanji, as 腐女. Fujoshi, or 腐 (“rot”) 女 (“women”), describes the largely (het) female audience of the Japanese BL genre (>80%, according to Wikipedia). Originated as a misogynistic insult towards female Japanese BL fans in the 2000s, fujoshi was later reclaimed by the same female BL fans who now use the self-depreciative term as acknowledgement of their interest being “rotten”, for BL’s disregard of the society’s traditional expectations on women.

賣腐 is therefore to “sell the rot” to the rotten women; ie. the suggestive romantic gestures, exemplified by the GIF above, between the M/M leads are catering, performing fan service to their target audience.

[賣腐 is also a term one will see in the state opinion pieces.]

There’s nothing gay about this term.

I’ve therefore found it possible to talk and think in Chinese about Danmei while giving little thought to queerness. The history and definition of Danmei allow that.

Again, I’m not saying any of this to excuse homophobia among in Danmei and Dangai fandoms. The point I’m trying to make is this — given that Danmei has three potential characterisations, two of which can be discussed without abundantly evoking queer concepts and vocabularies, given that history of Danmei, as a genre, already favoured characterisation 2 (traditional BL), the government addressing homosexuality in its opinions on Danmei and Dangai is far from a given.

By extension, the popularity of Dangai may mean a lot or little to c-queers; by extension, the state can approve / disapprove of Danmei and Dangai in a manner independent of its stance on homosexuality, which is itself inconsistent and at times, logic-deying (example to come…).

This is both good and bad, from the perspective of both the government and the c-queer community.

For the government: as discussed, the “triality” of Danmei allows the state to “move the goalpost” depending on what it tries to achieve. It has characterisations 2 (the traditional BL characterisation) and 3 (the aesthetic characterisation) as excuses to let Dangai dramas pass the censorship board should it want their profit and also, their promise of expanding the country’s soft power overseas by drawing an international audience. These characterisations also allow the state to throw cold water on the popularity of Danmei / Dangai should it desire, for reasons other than its queer suggestions—despite the Xi regime’s push against open expressions of queerness (including by activism, in media), it has also been careful about not demonising c-queers in words, and has countered other people’s attempts to do so.

Why may the government want to throw cold water on Danmei and Dangai? They are still subculture, which the state has also viewed with suspicion. In 2018, a NRTA directive explicitly requested that “c-ent programmes should not use entertainers with tattoos; (those associated with) hip-hop culture, sub-cultures (non-mainstream cultures), decadent cultures.” (”另外，总局明确要求节目中纹身艺人、嘻哈文化、亚文化（非主流文化）、丧文化（颓废文化）不用。”).

Subculture isn’t “core socialist values”. More importantly, it’s difficult to keep up with and control subculture. 環球網, the website co-owned by People’s Daily and Global Times (環球時報), ie, The State Newspaper and The State Tabloid, famously said this on its Weibo, on 2020/03/04, re: 227:

老了，没看懂为什么战。晚安。 Getting old. Can’t figure out what the war is about. Good night.

The State also cannot stop subculture from happening. It doesn’t have the resources to quell every single thing that become popular among its population of 1.4 billion. What it can do to make sure these subcultures stay subcultures, kept out of sight and mind of the general public.

Characterisation 1 (the queer characterisation), meanwhile, remains available to the state should it wish to drop the axe on Dangai for its queer elements. I’m including, as “queer elements”, presentation of men as too “feminine” for the state—which has remained a sore point for the government. This axe have a reason to drop in the upcoming months: July 23rd, 2021 will be the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and the state may desire to have only uniformed forces and muscled, gun-toting “masculine” men gracing the screens.

What about for c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans)? What good and bad can the multiple characterisations of the genres do for them?

For c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans), their acceptance and safety are helped by the Dangai genre, by the Dangai 101 phenomenon, if and only if the state both characterises the queer elements in these dramas as queer (characterisation 1) AND their opinions of them are positive.

Personally, I had viewed this to be unlikely from the start, because a queer characterisation would mean the censorship board has failed to do its job, which is embarrassing for the Chinese government.

Characterisations 2) and 3) are not bad for c-queers and their supporters, however, and definitely not “enemies” of Characterisation 1);  they can not only serve as covers for the queer elements in Dangai to reach their audience, but also, they can act as protective padding for the LGBT+ community if the content or (very aggressive) marketing of the Dangai dramas displease the government — with the understanding, again, that the “traditional BL” arm of the Danmei community is itself also highly vulnerable by being a subculture, and so its padding effect is limited and it also deserves protection.

The downside to achieving LGBT+ visibility through Dangai is, of course and as mentioned, that these dramas are, ultimately, deeply unrealistic depictions of the c-queers. The promotion of these dramas, which has focused on physical interactions between the male leads for “candies”, can encourage even more fetishising of queers and queer relationships. The associated (character) CP culture that makes and breaks CPs based on the dramas’ airing cycle may also fuel negative perception of queer relationships as attention-seeking behaviour, something that can be initiated and terminated at will and for the right price.

Finally, with all this said, which characterisation(s) have the government taken re: Dangai and/or WOH? And what opinions has it given to its characterisations?

PART 1 <-- YOU ARE HERE PART 2 PART 3

#pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

[nealcassatiel]

Supernatural and Russia and the mess of Television Legal Contracts

One of the most important aspects of a television series’ life cycle is its distribution. It is in the stage of distribution when the production companies/studio recoup the largest amount of costs.

By looking at who distributes the show, as well as which companies stand to gain the most from distribution profits, we can gain greater understanding of the various complex agreements and finances at play.

Viewing Statistics in the USA, Russia, and other International Territories

Let’s take a look at where Supernatural is distributed, and it’s popularity in the countries in which it airs. 

After the US, in the past 30 days, Supernatural’s next biggest market is in Russia. The next is in Brazil. 

This got long - more under the cut (I’ll be talking about cuts shortly)

In Russia, Supernatural has been in the top 0.2% watched shows in Russia (link) . This is also the case in Brazil. 

In 2019, a modest survey was done on urban and rural Russians asking them what foreign television they watch. Supernatural was the 6th most mentioned foreign television show (link).

In 2017, Supernatural was three times more popular in Russia than it was in the US (link - this article has just a whole other host of information about it being popular amongst urban and rural US residents, as well as popular amongst both Republics and Democrats, however i haven’t looked further into that data so not going to discuss it much here)

So selling Supernatural to Russia and airing it in Russia is going to bring in a lot of revenue for The C*W and the production companies. That is a lucrative distribution territory and of a huge amount of importance to the network. Russia will air both new episodes, and reruns. Of course, if Supernatural made a queer love story a central premise, then execs are going to get scared that not only will the finale may not be aired in one of their biggest, if not their biggest market: Russia, but that the broadcasters who distribute the show in Russia might also pull the rest of the show and stop broadcasting reruns too. That’s a shit tonne fo distribution profits gone for The C*W, and who knows, maybe their relationship with Russian broadcasters who air their other shows will be on the rocks. After all, trying to sell gay tv to Russians right now is, sadly, never going to happen. This is not an indictment on the Russian viewers, but me saying that the show won’t be sellable to Russian broadcasters if it is too queer.

A huge huge majority of US Supernatural fans are progressive and wanted the more queer focused and found family ending. But the C*W and Warner believes that there are still enough US fans who don’t want something that progressive to be shown. They also know that one of their biggest markets is Russia, and Dean being shown to be bi will not go down well there. I’m just speculating, but The C*W may have looked at those chunks of audience who give them money and decide that they only care about those profits. 

The frustrating thing however, is that no matter the power of Russian Supernatural audiences, looking at the other progressive countries and the popularity of Supernatural there - these numbers as a collective outshine those of Russia. So maybe Russia isn’t that important. Or maybe all The C*W needed to think was ‘we don’t want to stop profits from our biggest international viewership’ and so they never even went further and thought about the collective viewership of the audiences from progressive countries. As I said at the start, distribution is where the companies who invested into making a show recoup the most costs. All the money that comes from distribution is incredibly important.

DISTRIBUTION AND CO-PRODUCTION AGREEMENTS

The writers, the crew, the actors, don’t really get the distribution profits. They may get small cuts of things or bonuses here and there, but they’re all essentially employed by the production company. It is the production company and studio who has sunken money into making the show who will get a cut of the distribution profits. So the production companies and co-production companies, the creator (maybe still if they had a good agent when they first sold the pitch), the network are all going to be the ones to care about how much a finale will matter to profits from showing reruns in less progressive countries. Dabb is an employee - he personally will be paid a fixed sum which is given to him by the production company. He does not care if SPN can’t be aired in Russia - that has no personal affect on him. He was paid to showrun the series and he’ll get nothing more even if it becomes the most watched anti-gay homophobic celebrated show in Moscow. He has no financial reason to cater to anyone. He’s just an employee. 

But if information like this, the knowledge that for multiple years TPTB have wanted Supernatural to cater to a non-progressive international and national audience for the sake of distribution profits, then the show should have never have taken the narrative to a place whose ending could not be green-lit.

If for the sake of these pofits and other secondary rights, for the sake of appeasing rural/southern USA viewers, and trying to keep an audience for Walker, The C*W derailed the final two episodes, then I still don’t fully understand why the ending was heading towards destiel when all of this distribution finance information has been known for many many years. 

It makes sense why such a terrible finale would happen, but it doesn’t make sense why up until episode 18, the entire narrative of the show was leading somewhere completely different? Why were the writers of SPN heading straight towards one thing, if they knew they always knew that they’d have to have a completely different ending? 

The Right of Final Cut / Final Cut Privilege

The answer may lie in the fact that The C*W wasn’t really paying that much attention to SPN, they couldn’t really see all the subtext, but suddenly the subtext all was going to become text and they were all twiddling their thumbs and looking for something to do during COVID when the industry shut down, so they suddenly got way more involved. 

Let’s quickly clear up who The C*W is and how they relate to SPN as a company. Supernatural lists The C*W as one of it’s distributers, but lists Warner Bros Television as a production company. When SPN started it was made by The WB (which is now The C*W). It’s all under Warner Media anyway, but we can basically say that Warner Bros Television (listed as a co-producer of SPN) is the sam as The C*W who is listed as a distributer of SPN. They’re essentially the same so The C*W is both producing and distributing SPN, as well as owning the format rights to the show - sorry that’s all complicated anyway The C*W are the big dogs who own Supernatural and have done from the beginning back when they were called The WB)

Essentially, The C*W have a co-production and distribution agreement for SPN. The power they have from that first agreement when they bought the show off Kripke is almost certainly still MASSIVE today. They are not only the ultimate distributers, but the ultimate producers with all the agreements and all the rights. 

Anyway, back to that first agreement: This was Kripke’s first big deal, and he almost certainly gave Warner Bros/The C*W a whole host of creative control in exchange for them sinking a shit tonne of money into making the show. Which makes me wonder if The C*W has something in entertainment law called “the right of final cut/final cut privilege”. If a studio or distributer has sunken a heck tonne of costs into making the series and are the ones who most need to recoup the distribution costs, then in their contract they may try to give themselves the ‘final cut privilege’ - essentially, this is the final edit. There’s the Director’s Cut, but then after that there is the Final Cut. The Final Cut is what is broadcast. Nowadays, most series and films don’t allow the directors to have final cut privilege anyway - it’s fairly rare from my understanding (one of my hats is a television legal contracts assistant, and all of these contracts still confuse me even though it’s an element of my job - I’m not trained in this outside of work so i apologise if this isn’t clear). The studio or distributer doesn’t even need to clear their final cut with the writer/director/producer. They can just do it. Cut it up and broadcast it, because they’re allowed to in their contract.

So with the finale episode being so short, a mess of montages, Carry on My Wayward Son versions back to back, a narrative mess, the pacing completely off, some scenes way too short and others way too long - this really could insinuate that the stupid clause of ‘the right of final cut’ was utilised by The C*W and without the need to get the permission or allowance of Dabb or even the other production companies, they edited everything they didn’t like out of the finale, citing their contract and the fact that they’re the ones who need to recoup distribution costs, and they don’t want to piss off large swathes of their national and international audience.

In Conclusion

So positives? Well, now that SPN is done and dusted, if there is a spin-off then this shouldn't affect distribution deals in Russia or Brazil. If whoever buys the format rights for Supernatural, allows The C*W to still sell the old series distribution rights, then market the new season of SPN not as a new season but a spin-off, then this will give them more freedom to not cater to the conservative international and national audiences SPN was beholden to due to distribution profits. What I’m saying is - a spin-off could free itself from catering to anyone who isn’t progressive. The old audiences can carry on showing reruns of SPN and completely ignore the new ‘fake’ gay spin-off. They can say that it’s a different production company, a different network - and therefore not the legitimate show. Great. Free SPN. 

A new format agreement could also mean that the new producers could ensure that not the distributer, but the director, or the new trusted production company themselves gets the Right of Final Cut. If another agreement is made, please please please take that right away from The C*W/Warner. 

The difficulty in getting the SPN rights would be caused by the mess of a Format Agreement to even get those rights... Supernatural is co-produced by Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros. Television, Supernatural Films, and Wonderland Sound and Vision. I’m assuming Kripke Enterprises and Supernatural Films may be under Warner Media (as Warner Bros and The C*W itself is). If Jensen wanted to produce the new spin-off then his new production company is under WB/Warner Media too... so. Disentangling meddling and shitty Warner Media execs from a spin-off would be difficult because they own everyone. 

All in all, it’s easy to see now with that mess of a finale that this was caused with whoever has “The Right Of Final Cut/Final Cut Privilege’. And I HIGHLY doubt Singer or Dabb or any mere employee on the show has it. It’s more and more obvious to me that this power lies in the hands of The C*W/Warner and they didn’t even try to loop Dabb or the main cast in when making the final edits. I’m sure the C*W started to get involved at episode 19 and in the development stage of episode 20, but i’m certain they had a hand in the disastrous final cut. 

I hope we’re able to pry our beloved show out of the hands of those who don’t care about its narratives, but have more power than anyone to change the show’s narratives. Thanks for coming with me on this essay/me working out this complicated mess. It’s 00:50 and I'm super tired so I hope all this makes sense. Television contracts confuse me and I work with them so i dunno how clear any of this is. 

Anyway - I hope it was totally boring.  

#spn #supernatural #spn statistics #spn analysis #fuck the cw #fuck the finale #viewer statistics #i dont know if i find contracts interesting or dull #i haven't worked with contracts since covid happened #so i may be kinda rusty on my knowledge #but hope this was of interest nevertheless and sorry for any legal errors #supernatural finale #spn finale #tv industry #industry stuff #final cut privilege

[han-shinsuke]

ɢᴇᴛᴏ sᴜɢᴜʀᴜ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that.

🔞🌹 “does it hurt?” his tune was different compared to the normal tone he uses in class. There was a faint smell of concern in it and for a second, you wanted to believe that he cares for you for having his thing installed balls deep into you. The sheet is wet and so the pillow case where you had been muffling your moans and tears. You cried out the pain, digging your nails against your own flesh since your hands were tied behind your back while he was there, above your bareback, big hands gripping tightly on your waist as he makes sure you’d be filled with his arousal. One more long and strong push of his hips, you found yourself trembling from pain and an ounce of pleasure from his final assault. Geto withdrawn his shaft from your swollen anusx and he carefully rolled you on your back, checking your condition. “Does it hurt?” as if to make fun of your struggles, he asks again, swiping his thumb against your swollen lips. This may sounds funny but you couldn’t help but asked yourself if there were any part of you that hadn’t been touched and sucked by him. Probably, there’s none. Because Geto Suguru never missed. Putting your state in consideration, he feels obliged to answer his own inquiry, “of course, it hurts. I was your first, ms. front row.” You stared at his face, drained and in pain. If only you could wipe his smirk off his handsome face, you would. Sadly, you can’t. You need to stabilize your breathing and regain some energy in order to leave his estate. Though it feels impossible but you must. “G–get off me.” You gave him an undisturbed look, thinking of some effective ways to get to the bus station to not miss its last trip. Desperate to burden you more with thoughts and a few of his hard rubbing, Geto places himself between your legs and rubs his tip against your flushed lips down there, throwing you on the edge of torturous sensation. “Ge–Geto... please...” when he gets his desired reaction from you, a low chuckle emerges from him. To his kind, hearing a lady moaned softly was rewardingly good. And you did good, moaning his name like that. “Here’s the money,” again, the guilt was eating you up. Geto hands you the amount you both agreed on. You were no different from those department harlots who jumped on men like Suguru. “I’ll shower first, just wait here.” You got no time to waste so when he enters the bathroom, you put on your crumpled uniform, left his huge bedroom, painfully went through wide hallways and numerous staircases. As you stared back at the tall and automated gate, another slap from reality had hit you hard. Suguru Geto is reality miles away from the mud you’re in. You have reached the station on time. Luckily, the last bus hasn’t arrived yet so you took the chance to sleep in the shed. Fuck life. It will take a dozen of painkiller to calm your wrecked flesh and disturbed nerves, you thought. 🌹 “Your balance has been settled, Ms. Y/N.” The registrar shows you the updated payment of your account and you were not happy or pleased by it. You had someone in mind and just the thought of it, you can feel the anger and insult building inside of you. As usual, he’s there, surrounded by his kind. Women lurking around him as if they are there like an options for Geto to pick who knows who. He raises an arm, waving at you. You answered by nodding your head. Your knuckles turned white as he flashes you an innocent grin. The chair on the front row creates a screeching noise as you sat on it. You were so mad right now. Maybe throwing a shoe to his direction can lessen the fuming anger in you but you’re not that kind of person. You settled things privately. Just wait, Geto. You fucking wait and I’ll burn you alive. “Happy Birthday,” a hand put a protein bar and a can of chilled coffee on your desk. There’s no need to look at the giver. The bite mark on his wrist is enough to identify him. You were the one who put it on him last night. Your gaze follows Geto’s back as he returns to the back row. The place where strength and power lies. At twenty, you sold your dignity to

Geto Suguru. Now that you turned twenty one, you have promised that would be the first and last time you’ll use your innocence to overcome a problem. 🌹 “You’ve paid me well, Suguru, but I don’t accept tip for my service.” He didn’t speak. He must be in a state of shock after receiving a slap from you. After the exam, you confronted him and lashed out your anger from his doings. “I’m returning the money you had given last night. Thank you for the kind gesture.” You said in a very sarcastic tone. 🌹🔞 Suguru Geto is an heir. Unlike the other, he has no records of bad memories or any sad untold stories. The life his parents had given him was very ideal and perfect. He has friends and loved by many. And from those infos, you have come up with a thought that maybe, due to the perfectly laid out plan of his life, Suguru is trying to create a fault in his flawless existence. A fault that made you so eager to avoid him, that no matter where you tried to look at it, you’re a trial for him. Would he mind if you’ll be found in front of his doorstep, soaking and looks like a real shit? Well, that’s what he was looking for! A shit to jump in! “Geto!” he looks beautiful when he opened the door for you. The spotless white shirt he was wearing is now covered with dirt. Suguru returns your action, hugging you close against his body. “What happened?” his question after closing the door. Instead of answering, you just tightened the embrace around him and bit your lips to suppress your cry. “No–nothing... I’m sorry for barging in so late at night.” You tried to sound convincing and smiled. Your hand reached for the knob but Geto pulls you back, cupping your face between his warm hands. That’s the moment you gave in, face contorting as you cried helplessly while gripping his shirt. That’s all you need. Someone who can ask with sympathy. Someone who cares. For now, Suguru seems to care for you that’s why you let yourself cried in front of him. That moment, he looks and he feels like someone you can rely on with all the shits happening around you. You told him everything in details, not missing a part of it. You slept with him in exchange of some bucks. Gave your innocence with the man you thought who deserves it and that was him, Suguru Geto. Rather than selling it with your obsessed landlord, who also threatened to kill you if you refuse to bed him, you ran for your life, escaping the hell hole you have been in. You just wanted to graduate in college, make it until graduation but life have forced you to your limit. “I would rather die than to sleep with a psycho,” you confessed to him. You needed money and without those shit, you will not make it. You were so desperate to live. So desperate for a safe environment. You couldn’t even call your parents and tell them about your misfortunes for they are as well struggling to live, to sustain their needs. “You can stay here,” suddenly he suggested. “For free. No hidden charges.” He jokes. “I will be useful.” You ensures him. “You’re already are.” Geto smiles, tucking your hair behind your right ear. 🌹🔞⚠️ Whe he says, no hidden charges, there were really not. Guess, he doesn’t like the idea of tasting the same food he had before. You have been living with him for almost a month now but he’s not making a move to you. He lends you a spacious room and that made you felt lonely and cold. There was a time when Suguru brought a woman from the engineering department and you happened to witness their make out session in the kitchen one night. You were so embarrassed then apologized to them. As of the moment, you’re in the barn house, feeding his two pet horses while wearing the dress that Geto bought for you. “Y/N–” he swallows his words upon seeing you leaning forward in one of the stables, reaching the harness to check it. Suguru grits his teeth, seeing your thighs and curves are too much for him. Suddenly, he regretted purchasing the cerulean dress that fits perfectly on you. Your throat felt dry. You were familiar with the heat oozing from his

gaze. You’ve seen that during your first time with him. He walks to you, grabbing your hand, dragging you to the second level of the barn where you were slammed against the wooden wall. You cried in pain but immediately silenced by rough and hungry kisses of Suguru. At first, you couldn’t find the will to kiss him back but by just a lick on your bottom lip, you found yourself opening up for him, tilting your head to the side to give him easy access to your mouth. “Geto... ” his name slipped from your lips, pushing your own tongue into his, determined to play with his expert ones. He hummed between the kiss, supporting your chin through his forefinger. Suguru is really tall that you had to tiptoe to reach his mouth and kiss him back with same intensity. You gathered up enough courage and Suguru, himself, didn’t saw it coming. You caught him by surprised, pulling him down to you to suck on his bottom lip and lick it afterwards. “Fuck, babe.” He breathes when you released his mouth. Time for another surprise, you guided him to the nearest storage box and motioned to sit. You stopped him in the middle because you had to remove his pants and boxers. As soon as he settled, naked, Suguru holds your hair for you when you started sucking his thing. His moans and heavy breaths filled the space and your wet sucking sounds rings louder as he guides your face up and down to his erection covered in your saliva. You raised a hand when his grip tightened on your hair, almost like crashing your mouth with his hard and thick head that had been knocking your pipe pretty hard every time he goes balls deep in your mouth. You coughed helplessly as he frees you, gagging from the overwhelming thickness of his manhood. Geto cups your face and stares at you with malice before kissing you torridly, so eager to drown you with his lips and tongue that you accepted wholeheartedly. “Can I fuck you against the wall and tie you up as well?” a part of you shivered but you didn’t say ‘no’. He takes that as a ‘yes’ so you watched yourself slowly levitating from being tied up and held possessively by Suguru’s strong arms. You gasped for air when he enters your pretty tight hole in one swift push and managed to knock against your womb. “You’re so big, Geto aah!” your head fell back, the feeling of his throbbing manhood inside you is suffocating. You gasped again, sweats rolling down your neck as you let yourself adjust from his size. Geto licks your collarbone, nipping his lips against your skin up to your neck where he gets a taste of your tears and sweats, “really? You think I’m big? I feel honoured, babe.” He sucks the hollow on your neck and pulls slowly. Your eyes widened, feeling how a simple movement can stretch your rim wide open. “Aahhnnggg~ Ge–Getooo... ” You tugged your arms against the shackles, another pain inflicted upon you. And then there’s another pain, and it was a long one. He pushes fast, stretching you inside by installing deep inside of you, causing your hips to tremble when he smacks your ass and gropes you hard. As you can noticed, Suguru was being careful not to ruin the dress, the straps were rolled down just below your shoulder and he perfectly exposes your breasts, nipplesx really hard and red. For the second time in a row, your head fell back when he dips down your chest, sucking in a nipplesx while swirling his tongue around it. Geto. Geto. You went crazy and delirious. He’s attending your needy titsx with his thirsty mouth, biting the skin around it then going back to sucking the two buds alternately like a child. When he’s done showering your bosoms with attention, Suguru goes back to pushing further inside you, pulling his shaft roughly and then again, he never gets tired rutting you with his thing, slamming your hips against his hips. He was using different paces in stretching you wide so when he feels your breathing returning to normal, he would suddenly thrust his rod in and out of you roughly, making you gasp for air. “My arms feels numb, Geto ooohhh god!” you cried again, bursting into tears

when you felt him grinding his hips against yours while unloading his jizz. He stops moving for awhile but his loads are still oozing from his tip. “Okay, babe aahh~ hold tight.” Geto says, removing the shackles then locking your arms around his neck. Just when you thought it’s over, he lays you on the dust covered floor, folds you in half, hips ramming deep as he continues spilling his seeds into your cunt. He shoots you, with his long strings of arousal, fucked hard in a breathless mating press position. You’re just a dust in Suguru Geto’s universe. 🌹 Your surrounding turned pitch black with scattered stars in the night sky. You expected the moon to smile down at you but it was the greater creation who have his eyes on you. Universe taking his time looking at a particular dust. “where are we heading to?” you asked, blinking. He stops to carry you properly in his arms before answering, “home, Y/N.” Your eyes fell to the place you’ve been to. The door was left unlocked. “You forgot to lock the barn, Geto.” “They would not think of escaping, babe. They’re drawn to me and they are loyal to me.” You turned to the night sky once again, mesmerized by its beauty, you asked him a weird question, “since the door isn’t locked, then I’m free to go whenever I want to?” “Well, if it’s about you leaving my land, then expect some changes in the security. I can be selfish at times, Y/N.” “What do you meant by that, Geto?” “I just don’t think I’m capable of letting you go anymore.” ❤️

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk geto #geto headcanons #geto suguru #geto imagines #getou suguru x reader #not suitable for minors #smut with a plot #jujutsu kaisen #lovely #im a simp for suguru

[tooweirdforyou]

Lunar New Year » Teases

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

Summary » Law is being the typical, cocky and teasing ass. But, he’s a lovable asshole, who secretly cares for you.

note : modern! AU, reader works at a cafe :p, friends to lovers(?)

also, some of these might seem a little rushed. And they are. lol — this is the only one I’ll post, accept maybe one on actual lunar year-

-

“Thank you, please come again!”

Waving goodbye to another customer, you stretch your arms and sigh. “Another busy day of business.” You sang and Penguin chuckles beside you, turning the open sign to closed.

“It makes sense today was a little busier. Don’t you know what day it is?”

“How could I forget, with the amount of envelopes we’ve received from customers?” Gesturing to the pile of stacked red envelopes on the counter behind the register, Shachi and Penguin laugh once more.

“It’s a good thing we decided to open on New Years though, I heard almost every store is closed.” Shachi says, taking off his apron and hanging it up.

You began doing the same, smiling at the thought. Sure, you were exhausted but the amount of customers that came in meant tons of cash, so it was worth it.

“Oh, Shachi! Did you get a personal red envelope from anyone?” Penguin asks, and Shachi shrugs. “Besides my parents and Bepo, I don’t think so. Did you?”

“Not yet, but I heard Boa Hancock has a personal envelope and hasn’t given it to anyone yet.” Penguin grins with a small pink blush across his cheeks, and his words shocked Shachi. “Really? No way!”

Unable to help yourself from overhearing, you laugh lightly. “Sorry, boys. I heard she’s giving it to some guy named Luffy. The one with the straw hat, remember? He barged in here one day, asking for meat with his brothers.”

The two began to sulk at you. “Seriously?.. how lucky..”

Rolling your eyes, you glance at the time. Seeing the clock strike eight, you grin a bit.

You dust your clothes and made sure everything was neat in your area before grabbing your things that you needed.

“Alright, I’m heading out for the night. I’ll see you both in a couple of days. Remember to lock up!”

Penguin nods sullenly before perking up, noticing you already heading for the door. “Wait, aren’t you going to grab some of the envelopes?”

Understanding what he meant, you shrug. “I’ll pick up my share later on. Go ahead and take as many as you two want though.”

With that, you quickly open the door and head out, waving to the two of them before leaving completely.

“Wonder what’s the rush.” Shachi comments and Penguin shrugs, beginning to sweep the shop while Shachi began putting chairs away.

-

“No way, sold out already?”

Staring at the window display, your shoulders dropped in disappointment at the large sign that signaled the status of the item you’ve been waiting all day for.

Your lips slowly curled into a pout, clearly upset at not being able to be one of the many people who were able to get a copy of the limited edition remake of Sora, Warrior of the Sea comic series.

It was a once in a lifetime situation, considering there were only a few copies of the remake, since it included extra scenes and artwork.

“I can’t believe it..”

“What a pity.”

Whirling your head around to see Law leaning against the wall of the building, a particular book in hand.

“Law? What do you want?.. and is that-!”

“How cruel. I stood here waiting for you to arrive, knowing you’d be upset that it was sold out.” Law states, feigning a look of hurt as he stands up straight.

You furrow your brows at him, not at him for the amount of time it was sold out, but the fact that he actually stood there for as long it was sold out and you arrived.

“What, so you waited for me to laugh in my face about it?”

You never particularly liked Law but you didn’t hate him either. He was attractive yes, but he often got on your nerves with his teasing attitude, his dumb ass smirk, etc.

“Do you think so low about me all the time? It hurts my feelings.” Law hums, making his way towards you as he swung the book around a bit in his hand.

You roll your eyes and sighed. “Right.. well, I guess I’ll get going then. I left the cafe just to find it was worth nothing so.. I better get back to help Penguin and Shachi clean up..” you mumble, clearing your throat and turned around.

Law hums as he stops behind you. “Leaving already? I haven’t even gotten to offer you the book yet.”

Your eyes widen as you whirl around excitedly. “Wait, really?!”

The male closes his eyes with a innocent smile. “Of course. Feel free to take it.” You didn’t even question him as you quickly went to reach for your book eagerly, only to nearly trip in the process when Law pulled away.

He then held it up his head, smirking teasingly. “It’s right here, [Name]-ya. Just reach for it.” Law hums, waving the comic book in the air.

You sent him a small scowl as you reach up for the book once more, just for him to grab your wrist and roughly pull you into his chest,

Lips now right next to your ear, Law hums.

“If you wanted me that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

The unexpected action was enough to bring the heat up to your cheeks, quickly reaching the tips of your ears. “As if!”

Seeing your visible blush was enough to satisfy him, an amused smile spreading across his lips before pulling away from you.

Law turns around, back facing you as he checks the first page of the comic in his hand for a brief moment.

Reassured what was on the front page, he closed it and turned back to face you.

Smirking lightly, Law held out the book for you, before a genuine small smile was seen from him. “Here.”

You eyed him suspiciously for a minute before a wide grin came over you, and you eagerly took the book from him. “Thanks, Law!”

The pink tint of your cheeks and excited smile on your lips made Law’s heart skip a beat, but he wouldn’t admit it.

The male only nods before turning away, his hand up with a wave. “See you around. Happy Lunar Year.”

With that, he began leaving without waiting for your response, hands shoved into his pockets as he did so.

You didn’t seem to mind, too busy thinking about actually having the comic book in your hands and went to see the first page, wondering what it looked like.

However, the sight shocked you.

Upon opening the cover, the blank page showed a bit of writing along with a red envelope.

‘To [ Name LastName ], hope you’re grateful.’

Was all it read as you slowly reached for the red envelope and pulled the seal open.

Inside, instead of it being money, it was a folded paper. Curiosity took over as you pulled it out and read it.

‘You’re welcome. Happy Lunar Year, [ Name ]-ya. I like seeing you smile and I knew you’d want the latest remake of the comic so I made sure to get it. Don’t be a klutz and ruin it.’

and right near the bottom was his phone number, with two words. ‘Let’s talk.’

Irritation was evident in your eyes but the small warm smile took over your emotions as you held the paper tightly in your hands.

Law sure was an unexpected type.

-

Meanwhile, as Law walked away, he looked down at his path as he did so, warmth spreading over his cheeks at what he did and the image of your excited grin was plastered in his mind.

-

A/N : MAN IDK OKAY ITS RUSHED AND IM BEST AT RUSHING THINGS BECAUSE MY FINGERS TYPE BEFORE MY BRAIN THINKS! wait does that make sense?

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #trafalgar d. water law x reader #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law #lunar new year #🧧

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird:  The Hand of Andromeda Ch. 2 ( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) (New chapters will be posted first to patreon and then moved here)

The Ageis system was not what one would consider a pinnacle world of civilization in an age of interstellar travel. At best it was a backwater system deep in unclaimed space between the Rylon Collective and Havatal Republic the system with only one habitable planet, Ageis Prime.

The planet itself was largely barren, consisting of entire continents of jagged rocks and acidic seas. Only a small belt of land near the equator was remotely capable of sustaining life and supported small clusters of forests isolated from the harsh surrounding landscape.

First development of the planet was made by the Xlaxon Mining Guild when a remote probe of theirs scanned the system and found valuable minerals scattered around the planet. Shortly after a group of indentured laborers were imported to the planet and a mining operation was established, initially consisting of a landing pad, machine shop, processing facility, and several other living quarters.

Just as the operation was about to get underway however the Xlaxon Mining Guild found itself drawn into what is now known as the “Guild Wars”, which were a series of escalating conflicts fought between rival mining organizations. To put it mildly the Xlaxon’s did not last long and were quickly consumed by a larger guild. In the confusion of the guild wars the newly establish mining operation on Ageis Prime was lost in paperwork and quickly became further isolated from the rest of the galaxy.

With no overseers left and a semi functional colony all to themselves the newly transplanted workers began to form their own society on the planet and carved out a small patch of the planet they could call their own. It was nothing to brag about, but given their limited resources they made due. Several years passed before the planet would encounter a small group of mercenaries that would change their destiny forever.

A group of mercenaries calling themselves “The Fishermen” landed on the planet, which had now grown into a dense urbanized city, looking to finally establish a base of operations. There was initial resentment from the inhabitants as the established ruler of the planet, a self-proclaimed warlord known as “Kevin the Heartless”, ordered his enforcers to drive off the mercenaries. The battle was swift and the better trained and armed mercenaries easily overpowered the enforcers with the struggle finally ending when the warlord himself had his head bitten off and spit out by the mercenary’s Predatorian leader.

The inhabitants were surprised to find their new overlord was much more merciful than they had expected. While the mercenaries did establish themselves on the planet they also brought with them a vast amount of wealth from numerous sources. The normal baggage train of any military group flocked to the planet and set up shop. Bars, brothels, weapons dealers, mechanic shops, and even an official branch of the intergalactic bank quickly set up as the mercenary band began to sell out their services. As their fame grew the group not only enriched themselves but oddly enough began investing in the planets community’s as well.

Schools and hospitals were built for the growing population, a new police force and government system was established for official recognition and participation by the people of Ageis Prime, and most beneficial of all were several terraforming towers that were installed around the planet which began replacing the harsh world with an increasingly comfortable climate. With all of these improvements the general population lauded the Fishermen and heaped praise after praise on to them.

In the span of three years Ageis Prime had gone from a forgotten backwater to the galactic hub of the dead zone of unclaimed space; a pillar of civilization in the dark void of forgotten space.

Yet for all their generosity, the Fishermen still controlled everything from the shadows. It was an unspoken law of the land that nothing of importance was done without their leader’s approval. Even to run in an election a nominee had to first come see their boss and present him or herself to see if they’d amuse the Predatorian; if he didn’t find them amusing than they were expected to drop out, lest an unfortunate accident befall them.

At any given time the mercenary group was contracted out between ten to fifteen jobs ranging from basic security details for high value personnel and facilities, to waging wars on distant planets on part of an ad hoc detachment. This abundance of work was rather common as both the Rylon Collective and Havatal Republic lacked the means to enforce their wills in the unclaimed systems between their two borders. This didn’t even come close to the dozen or so different criminal groups that inhabited this unclaimed space who were always in need of additional muscle.

There were of course rival organizations to the Fishermen such as the Abvara Syndicate, Pelpens Pirates, the Brotherhood of Orion, and the Band of the Hig who each had their own sizable forces; yet each of them were constantly switching between periods of stability and bloody internal struggles for leadership. This facet was not seen inside the Fishermen thanks not only to their structuring, but also to the visionary leader that formed and continued to lead the group even now.

Sitting at the very top of the organization was the Predatorian, a massive mound of raw muscle, sharpened teeth, and with a twisted sense of humor only psychopaths could fully appreciate. Rising from a former slave he had first formed the Fishermen from the same slaves he was freed alongside during a bloody slave uprising. After taking control of ship that had once held them captive he steered it to the nearest port and sold it off, then used the funds to train and equip the slaves into a standard fighting force.

His name was Mr. B.

No one in the organization knew if that was his real name or not but what they did know was not to mock it. The last person that did had their fingers bitten off one at a time by Mr. B before they were thrown out on to the street. Mr. B later said that hearing all their jokes about his name had made him hungry for some “finger food”. He was ruthlessly efficient in his work and he expected that from all those under him. His combat experience was rivaled only by the commando units of the galactic governments. Yet for all his combat talent and training he was not as skilled when it came to logistics and the day to day operations common for such a large group. Thus he was greatly benefited by his second in command who was aptly proficient in such matters at such a young age.

A nine and a half year old human child named Lizzy Stalwart.

If there was little known about Mr. B there was even less known about his adopted daughter Lizzy Stalwart. Freed from the same slave ship Mr. B had been previously held, she had been by his side ever since. Rumor was she had been the one to trigger the mass unlocking of cells on the ship which led to the ship wide revolt of slaves against their captors.

While Mr. B handled the military aspects of the group it was Lizzy that managed the books. She had a keen insight for numbers and was always able to keep the group well-armed and fed as they went contract to contract. A common saying among the grunts of the organization was that you’d never run out of blood with Mr. B, and never run out of bullets with Lizzy Stalwart.

Despite his brutish demeanor, Mr. B had a natural soft spot for Lizzy and he had taken her under his fin so to speak and had come to see her as his daughter. The two of them were set to take on whatever the galaxy could throw at them, and they had an army behind them to throw it right back for payback.

The transport shuttle slowly descended to street level before killing the thrusters. The bus driver checked his systems and pulled open the door latch to the street.

“Fisher HQ!” they called out to the passengers behind them.

Vick grabbed his satchel bag and hefted it over his should as he stood up and made his way to the door.

“Let me guess,” the bus driver said as he finally reached the front; his eyes taking him in for a moment before he smirked, “trying to swim with the big boys?”

Vick smiled at the man as he got off but didn’t answer him. The shuttle thrusters kicked back on and the craft once again rose upwards into the air before speeding off down the road leaving Vick in the billowing cloud of dust it left behind.

He coughed several times and swiped the dust from his eyes before the cloud parted and revealed his final destination; the headquarters of the mercenary Fisherman.

It was a vast compound just outside of the city limits easily taking up nine city blocks in size. It held its own private landing pads, medical facilities, housing and training grounds, munition depots and manufactures... It was like an entire city itself dedicated to killing for money.

From the moment he had quit his dead end job as a dish washer of Veega Ce, Vick Novikov had thought of nothing but this moment. He had spent every credit he had ever saved to purchase his passage off world and the compact pistol strapped to his right thigh.

No longer would he be looked down on by those around him, no longer would people shove him out of their way as if he was garbage in the street, no longer would kids throw fucking rocks at him and laugh like the little shits they were.

Today Vick was going to become someone new, someone better, someone to be respected and feared.

Today, Vick was going to become a Fisherman.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #story #Hand of Andromeda

[namjoonchronicles]

closure |nj

↳ pairing namjoon, reader

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship, melodrama

↳ words 3,775k

↳ summary some stories aren't meant to be understood, they're just written to be heard.

↳ warning depression; major death of side character, suicide

↳ song 'feel something' by clairo, 'to love someone else' by avery lynch, 'chernobyl' by alec bailey

Truly, the nights are filled with unspoken stories. When he took your hand in his and looked deep into your eye with those soft concerned gaze, you were home. He cupped your chin, curled a strand of your hair behind your ear and studied your entire face.

“What’s that look?” his voice swam in your semi-consciousness, “I know that look. That look pains me, takes me to the edge, makes me curl my toes, that look…”

Your eyes flutter wondrously at his lashes, his Cupid’s bow and supple lips, along with a stricken smile you asked him quizzically, “I am alright, you have nothing to worry about…”

Namjoon thumbed your cheek and it traced down to your smile line, the curve at the edge of your lips, and you know he felt the trembles as you forced the smile. Namjoon’s eyes trail up to meet yours again, he starts chewing the insides of his cheek, hollowing them.

“You are faking the smile,” and he softens when he sees your eyes gleaming with tears. Upon this, he collected your head into his arms and cushioned by his chest. He passes a long lingering kiss atop of your head, cradling your head while your arms are low on his hip, trying to barely hold on. At the time, he felt like a pillar, holding you together in all your ruins. His stature, the scent of his aftershave, the makings of his shirts and the smell of his skin— it all rushed over your senses like a tsunami. The kind of comfort he was, such a calming presence for a cyclone-bearing human you were.

Rush of emotions. It builds up.

And up.

And up.

And overflows.

You are an enigma Namjoon is scrambling to find out. A tough shell of a crab, with walls built high and thick. Like a lost traveler with a single map that’s ever changing in its path, ever evolving— you were that map. The verandah's wooden panel wet from the late afternoon rain, the hammock under the small roof at the edge, lay static in its place until Namjoon put his enormous weight on it. One leg dangling out, arm spread and waiting for you to grab them. He bracketed your waist and lifted you from the floor and into his lap like a child. He has a bottle of soda by the side, its lid snapped open. Laying your back on his hard, defined pectoral chest, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulder somewhat lifted a bit. Namjoon knows, and he knows this without you saying a word— he knows that you had been fighting many battles alone, and with yourself. The battles had wrung you out, strewn you in and silenced you. Constantly, insistently the world is demanding a piece of you to give out. At this place and time, it seemed incredibly impossible to be at complete peace. You could almost give in— tempted to lay in defeat. You gave it your all, and they gave you nothing.

“It’ll hurt for awhile, but it will get better,” you suddenly broke the silence. Namjoon hummed back, either confused or surprised at the sudden remark. You turned sideways and up, to look at the view of his jaw. He tips his head back, drinking down the soda in his left hand. The thin fabrics of his sleeveless tanks, left almost nothing to the imagination. He tutted his tongue in response to what you said.

“That’s a nice saying…” his voice dropped an octave lower when he is relaxing like this with you. You were the few humans in the world he would appreciate silence with. You switched to face him, him between your legs as you sat up with a big gaping smile on your face, disbelieved.

“You’re the one who told me that…” emphasizing on him. You filled the gaps between his legs with your own, sandwiched as you sat opposed to him. Your toes next to his head and him grinning like he kept a secret from the world. After much struggle to get comfortable, you said,

“You told me that when my grandmother passed away that night in January… I remember it clearly, just like it was yesterday…

I was in the elevator with her lifeless body on the casket and not a drop of tears left my eye…

I started wondering if there was something wrong with me…”

Namjoon wrapped his palm over your ankles— the ankles you hated so much because you think they are unappealing, he thumbs the protruding bone affectionately, brought it to his stomach and started massaging it with his free hand. All the while you were reminiscing.

“And you told me that I was so hurt, I couldn’t cry. How I am used to fabricating my pain for the sake of others… that when I was expected to cry, I couldn’t. And wouldn’t. How I took being strong quite literally…” Your voice slowed down, your eyes casted to the view of his fingers, nimbling over your skin.

“And today, the same thing happened… but today, I chose not to be too strong,” you held your breath for a moment, and exhaled shakily. The emotions aren’t all gone; the remnants are still here, clinging on you like a stubborn stain on the wall left by the old frames that were no longer there. Coiling around you like a shadow at every hint of bright light. The guilt was paralyzing you to the point of tears.

“A friend of mine was taken today…” you painted a smile on your face but Namjoon didn’t etch one, one bit. His fingers stopped massaging briefly, before it continued.

“You’ve met him once, if you remembered, his name is Hoseok,” you wiped a single drop of tear, “He was a firm owner, a lawyer. We met at the convention…”

“... back in 2015.” Namjoon finished your sentences.

At the 2015 International Pharmaceutical Convention, 7 years ago...

Flourishing, the crowd of intelligent people came in with a big proud smile, wearing lanyards of their company. Blazers, heels, jewelries, research posters, new pharmaceutical breakthroughs, projects and investors circles. The big pharma are divided in sections.

Walking toward the condiments vendor for a quick refreshment, you were approached by a man. Tall, his face turned away from your view as he was speaking to another colleague. He hijacked your turn to access the vendors, unknowingly, and you weren’t exactly the kind to speak up when a stranger does this to you, so you backed away a little and forced out a smile, gazing down at your toes.

“Hey, I think I know your name…” this mysterious figure suddenly says, “Still letting others go first before you, huh?” In such a friendly tone, your mind began racing to decipher his voice and face when you shot your gaze up to meet his. The same disarming smile, perfectly lined teeth and just the right amount of cologne, wafted around your nose— was a face familiar from the years back.

“Hoseok? Jung Hoseok?” he mentions his name after a long pause from you.

You were tongue-tied, mind-riddled from such a sudden meeting. You were unprepared and it must have shown all over your face the way he hisses away, wearing a lopsided smile and gruffly saying, “Don’t be like that… Do you really not know me? Have I mistook you for someone else?” He suddenly shifted his weight to another foot, crossed his arm and placed his forefinger under his chin, gazing at the corner of the massive hall, thinking.

“Ankles, and that old wristwatch, it’s definitely you…” his pondering face switches to a cheerful smile in a matter of seconds and you could not have been even more right that this was your old friend whom you hadn’t contacted in years. All the way back in college.

“Oh my, it’s you…!” You gasped, trying to recover from the embarrassing delay, “Wow, you look amazing… How are you! How have you been?”

Hoseok exchanged your late recalling with a burst of laughter of his own.

“I own a firm now,” you heard him say. It was the first thing he said, and it showed just how much pride he took in it. Which was fair. Back then he was struggling to find his footing, trying to find a job and getting rejected at interviews— it was you whom he shared those stories with. Over late night coffee, late night conversations and texts; he talks about his days, sharing with you his strange humors. You were glad that he finally found what he liked to do; at least that's what you assumed he liked because you clearly remembered that he had different interests.

“So what about the photography business? Your freelance job?” you hesitantly asked.

You could see how his smile and whole stature faltered briefly at the mention of it. You knew that his family was against it— was against anything that isn’t bringing back money— passion or not, it wasn’t something his family wanted him to do. Besides, his father’s firm needs managing, and what other way to continue the business if not having a son that is doing law as well.

“Folded,” his cheeks puffed and deflated, “Sold everything including the antique camera, the analogues, the films… everything.”

Your heart thudded strangely. You knew just how much he loved photography. It was the reason why you both got close back then. Your passion to everything artistic and his passion to capture everything beautiful. You remember so well, how his face lights up at the mention of photography, how he was so willing to teach you how to use the cameras you’ve never seen, and how he shares all his work with you, including the new one he was currently working on. You had access to all of his digital work and manuscript. And it was unfortunate that all these had to go away, leaving nothing to the memory. Nothing to hold close. It probably killed him as well. But what could he have done?

“How about you?” the conversation now shifts to your side. You twisted the ring around your ring finger and showed it to him.

“Awesome!” He gleams. So delighted.

“He is here somewhere, I don’t know where he went… but he should find me in a few minutes,” you looked around.

“You were getting something from the vendor?” Hoseok asked, but you shook your head. You don’t feel like drinking now.

Hoseok gradually finds out how your life is, where you’ve worked and places you’ve been.

“And you met Namjoon at work?”

“Pretty much, he is in the investors group. We met once, talking about a big pharma project and he was one of the champions supporting the good cause, so I owed him a lot,” you shrugged as to say, the rest is history.

“So he made you marry him to pay up all your emotional debts?” Hoseok jokes.

“Not exactly but… you know how I am. I can be very difficult to convince, especially when I am so comfortable with the lifestyles I already have. I dread to be a housewife so when he understood that, everything else falls into place,” you added and caught a tall figure walking along the hallway, dashing in his slick back hair, lanyards dangling.

Blazers flailing, white dress shirt and slacks make up the shapes of his defined abs and thighs. He walks with his head hanging slightly downwards as if he was trying not to catch anyone’s attention but was failing. Everyone turned their head towards him the moment he stepped inside the hall.

He stopped midway and tugged his left sleeve back. His Patek Phillipe Nautilus shimmering handsomely under the spotlight as he studied the time. He lifts his eyes up to scan the room through his brows and pursed lips, wondering where his wife was at the promised time.

You raised your arm slightly and the smoldering figure of a man twitches a big smile and a small bite on his lower lip, making his way to you. Completely aware about the man that was nearby you as he plants a chaste, enveloping kiss on your lips.

“This is Namjoon, Kim Namjoon…” You placed your hand on the small of his back and he reached out to Hoseok first for a handshake, again, his wristwatch peeking out when he covers the handshake with the left hand.

“Sweetheart, this is Hoseok, Jung Hoseok. He is a lawyer…” you introduced them both and Hoseok handed him his name card. Namjoon waits for you to further elaborate how you seemed so friendly with this man. And you can’t say that Hoseok was in-fact your old best friend whom you cut connections with because you’ve had feelings for him when he was in love with someone else. So you say, “An old friend.”

You sighed in relief when Namjoon didn’t catch the extended pause, but you can’t help thinking that he might question more later in the ride home. But for now, Namjoon’s bright smile seems to captivate the whole room’s attention. Small talks, and brief discussion about the direction of the convention and what he thinks about it, comes naturally. But he makes sure you don’t feel left out by the conversation by constantly adding your pharma company name in the picture.

“Had it not been my darling, the company would have gone downhill with their outdated scheduling methods and utter refusal to accept reformations according to modernization,” Namjoon added, and while he says so, so professionally and with full alluring prospects of a seasoned business man, his hand was trailing down the curve of your ass and gently squeezing them— out of Hoseok’s sight. Had you been a terrible pretender, you would have moaned out of context. You can thank your overflowing control for that. You were also cursing his name in the back of your mind and he will have an earful of it when you get home later.

“She single-handedly save the multi-billionaire company from their biggest downfall from the company’s incompetent leader,” Hoseok added, “Also they had a lot of legal issues at the time. I was in-charge of the corporate files before they shifted to joint-venture with Daehan Pharmaceuticals… it was a mess already. Corruption, bribes and unreliable auditing data.”

“Wait…” you intruded, “You were in the pharma that long? So we could have met?”

Hoseok gave you a lopsided smile and nodded. He further explained how he kept sending his colleagues to do site visits because he wants to avoid seeing you. This is where Namjoon begins to realise that you guys might be more than just friends because he asked,

“Why is that?”

Hoseok began his answer with a shrug of his shoulder and pursing his lips. After a brief thought, he admits, “Because at the time, we weren’t talking anymore. She would know why,” He opens his mouth to say more, but glancing down at your wedding ring, he didn’t.

If Hoseok remembered clearly, he was talking to you about a girl he had been pursuing. It was the first time he ever revealed something like that, all along you knew each other. You were studying for your final year and had been bludgeoned with assignments. There wasn’t a right time to tell you until one day on April 17th, he said he was finally going to ask this girl if she would be his girlfriend. A little info on her was that she was in a toxic relationship she was trying to get out from. She didn’t ask Hoseok to wait, but Hoseok was so in love with her, he didn’t mind how long it would take. She requested for time and space. Another man claimed her as his girlfriend when she didn’t say yes or no. Another two were also after her. Her ex boyfriend returned after months of leaving her. Just at the same time Hoseok was allowing her in his life.

When he shared you that information, you felt so betrayed somehow. He was always preaching about how being single is the best way to live and he turned around and did things like this. Pursuing a relationship. You were stubborn, you had egos you wanted to defend. Everything regarding relationships, you refuse to acknowledge. And any slight differences in your opinions were enough to break a relationship, even a strong friendship like you and Hoseok shared at the time. You once confessed to Hoseok that you liked him and he couldn’t return the same feelings. So you accused him of loving someone else and he denied that. When this happened, you felt like you were lied to. Because Hoseok, at the time that you two knew each other, was already having eyes on someone else, treating you as a placeholder, sharing emotions until the girl was eventually available for him.

Then he dropped you.

Things would have been different if he just told the truth. That he was indeed in love with someone when you confessed to him. Things would be much easier and it wouldn’t have gone deeper than it was. You would have walked away, unhurt and without knowing each other at a depth that you’d have to crawl out from. But Hoseok didn’t want to lose you. For some reason, he kept the friendship despite being unable to return your feelings, fabricating attention and giving hopes that he might one day change his feelings. Had you walked out earlier, you wouldn’t have resorted to deleting all contacts with him. His Instagram account, all his numbers, his pictures, galleries. The assignments he helped you with, the emotional support, the ice cream dates and late night phone calls. You would take it all away.

You deleted him from your life, only for him to tiptoe around the same company as yours— afraid of being known but unsure of what he did wrong. You decided that you would punish him that way. By leaving him with no answers of why you left.

“Will you be joining the closing ceremony dinner at Hyatt?” Namjoon politely asked. Noticing that the conversation had run down.

“Perhaps I will. I have to keep the firm going for the wife and kids to eat,” Hoseok perked up, and it was the first time he ever revealed about his marital status all through the conversation.

“Oh, you married her?” the delight in your voice was sincere, you are so happy for him. But his answers weren’t what you expected.

“No I didn’t. She left me for someone else, she was never honest with me, and I was only hearing the things I wanted to hear,” Hoseok rubs his knuckle and politely excused himself when he saw Namjoon was approached by an entourage of bodyguards that guide you and your husband to the next section of the convention. No numbers were exchanged to insinuate a rekindled relationship. It’s like you both understood that you could never return to what you were before. You both are leading different lives now, with different people and different phases. But you hoped he knew just how much he meant to you back then.

Hoseok walked away with a lightened shoulders. Now that he has seen you face-to-face and sure of what life you’re living, he felt a little at ease and a little envious. In the car you once rode with him, this broken-down Honda Civic, divorce papers were scattered on the front seat. The top-most letter being the child custody granted to his wife. His firm is also on the verge of bankruptcy and he was laid off from his contract with the pharma, this convention being the last one he will ever attend. After you left his life, he was burdened with one bad luck after the other. And he was at his last strand of hope when he came to the building. He saw you gracefully presenting on the stage about the medication you have been working on, like how he always wished to see. You were so cool, so engaging, so intelligent in your presence. Namjoon is the ultimate husband you wished for, and of course, you would concede for a man that was at your level. Knowing you as long as he did, you will not settle for less and that’s final. No discussion.

Life is good for you.

Inserting his car keys inside the keyhole, telling himself that, “That’s the price of breaking a pure heart.”

Empty bottle of soda laying on the wooden panel. Your tear-stained face, sleeping on your side under the starry night sky, while Namjoon watched you intently. He covers you with a blanket and lets you sleep. He walked inside the house, and vanished to his home office. In it, he fetches his phone and turns on his table lamp, making a call that was immediately taken.

“I want you to find the burial information on a lawyer Jung Hoseok and send some condolences bouquet,” he instructed with a low voice. The short voice call felt heavy but necessary. Hoseok’s passing was detrimental to his wife’s mental and emotional health— it was important for him and her to get the closure they both needed.

Judging from her frail figure, she won’t be able to attend the funeral. Cremation was planned as requested by Hoseok. His children will not be attending, neither is his wife. The last thing Hoseok wanted was his funeral attended by the people that was the reason for his passing. For years, he had been battling depression and anxiety. It has been a long, lonely fight.

Namjoon watches the silhouette of you, standing against the setting sun, in your all-black attire and hair tied in a bun, hugging yourself. Wind blowing the strands of your hair back at every strike. Your diamond ring twinkling at the light it reflects. The sound of traffic in the distance, honks and vehicles throttling far away.

“The funeral ended gracefully…” Namjoon broke the silence.

You dropped your head and tutted your tongue, smiling weakly.

“It’s not your fault, darling…” your husband’s footsteps padded through the wooden floors to where you were.

“Then why does it hurt so bad? Why does it still hurt so Goddamn much?!” you shrieked.

Namjoon collected you in his arms, so you would rest your head on his sturdy chest, and he whispered, barely audibly heard by you,

“Because when you love, you love with everything you have. I know that much.”

It was then he realized that one is only allowed the closure they deserved;

And, no closure is also a closure.

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copyright © january 4th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading <3

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↳ author’s note it's been awhile, i feel like i've been waiting for my personal life to overflow before i could write something. this is just an excuse to use 'that' picture of namjoon for the banner of a story. how are you? i've recently cut contacts with someone i hold dearly in my life. upon the break, it gave me back the emotions i used to have when i am writing. all this while, i have wasted my feeling, my elaborated word choices on someone who hardly appreciate it. with him gone, i started to think clearer and see things for what they are. i am no longer shrouded by dark grey clouds of uncertainty as i was with him. it was a difficult shift, but i feel better now that he is gone from my life. i dropped a tear or two not because of the love i used to feel for him, but because i felt incapable of being loved the way i yearned. this is the second day after i broke all connection with the said man/boy/creature. i feel liberated after the whole story was written. i needed him killed in my mind. so i wrote it just that. i've returned to where i was before, and i feel absolutely fine.

#closure #moonchildnetwork #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #thekimlinenet #kimnamjoonnet #established relationship #namjoon fics #kim namjoon #namjoon ff #bts fanfic #bts rm fanfic #namjoon #reader insert #husband namjoon #nj ff #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bangtan fics #knj fics #knj fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fluff #angst #tw: mental health #tw: depressive episode