#when the economy gets tough the first thing that happens is they force us to bear more children

[hairtusk]

i've been screaming from the rooftops about this for over a year and i hate to be proven right

#and this is in the UK where we have relatively free and easy access to abortion #apply this to other places - ones where abortion is banned or restricted - and we have an enormous rise in unwanted pregnancy #when the economy gets tough the first thing that happens is they force us to bear more children #don't listen to these influencer women. they don't care about your health.

[qqueenofhades]

One of my biggest annoyances is leftists and communists beinging up Biden’s tweets during the 2020 campaign of things he said he would do, and being like “see?? he didn’t deliver on anything and this is why you shouldn’t vote for the Dems again” Like, for all the understanding they seem to have of communist or marxist or whatever theory, the idea that the President is not a king and can’t do whatever he wants without Congress’s approval is lost on them?? He still believes in those things but if Congress won’t pass the legislation what is he supposed to do? EOs won’t solve all our problems.

Yeah. Not even to mention, the claim that "Biden hasn't done/delivered anything!!!" is a big fat lie, as people keep pointing out the things he has done, with a razor-thin House majority (until 2022) and two "Democratic" senators who torpedoed everything and one of whom has now literally left the party (Manchin and Sinema). So while Online Leftists obviously don't understand the difference between "achieving all of his campaign goals" and "achieving some," for the last frikkin time, Biden has done a lot of good things in very bad circumstances!!!!!! Using "he didn't do everything!!!!" as an excuse to not vote and so enable the open and unrepentant fascists is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard!!!!

Like. Take the debt deal. As in other things, Biden clearly learned from Obama's mistake (which was believing that the Republicans would ever negotiate in good faith about anything, and/or would reciprocate in kind if Biden made concessions). McCarthy whined for WEEKS that Biden wasn't listening and wasn't talking to him and wasn't entertaining his ridiculous proposals (22% cuts in ALL discretionary/non-military spending, including Social Security, Medicare, etc etc, while preserving the giant Trump tax cuts for the rich.) No matter that a full one-quarter of the national debt ($7.8 trillion of $31 trillion) was racked up under Trump and the debt ceiling involves paying bills that have already been spent. No sir, those Damn Free-Spending Democrats wanted to use your money on icky things like ~social welfare!! It was mean and it was hypocritical and it was blindingly obvious, and Biden just completely ignored it. He didn't try to negotiate in good faith with that, because there was no way it would work. He just let them whine.

Then, when it came down to it, Biden went in and got a deal that preserves pretty much all of the Democrats' major legislative priorities and expansions from the last two years. The only real change is raising the work requirement age for childless adults on SNAP food assistance from 49 to 54, but this has also been accompanied by a corresponding expansion of the definition "homeless" to make more people eligible, some for the first time ever. There's not going to be any major new spending for the next two years, but that wasn't happening anyway since the GOP controls the House and wouldn't agree to anything Biden put in the budget (and plus, none of the money that has already been allocated through the American Rescue Plan and other federal assistance is getting taken away). But more importantly, it raises the debt ceiling for the next TWO years and it won't come up again until after 2024. That is HUGE: the GOP really, REALLY wanted to hold the economy hostage again prior to the next presidential election. But Biden basically went in and told McCarthy to stfu and got what he wanted. Qevin was even forced, after months of "Sleepy Joe" GOP propaganda, to call Biden "very smart and very tough" in the negotiations. Soooo.

Anyway, this is what I mean: this isn't as sexy and/or as utterly fucking useless as spouting lukewarm rebaked "Marxist" propaganda on the Twittermachine about how Biden hasn't done anything, but it's the actual nitty-gritty work of government and flat-out beating the Republicans. They got absolutely shit-all that they wanted, because Biden didn't fall for their same old, same old dirty tricks and disingenuous squealing. He went in, got the job done, and will get way less credit for it than he deserves, from anyone. Dunno about you, but I like that guy. I plan to vote for him again.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[beomgyw]

SOJU, ONE GLASS

quick recap; you confronted jintaek, which ended up in him humiliating you in front of his friends. taehyun intervened, ultimately punching jintaek. taehyun then apologized for his past behavior.

if you're new here; link back to the beginning

huening and you roll up to your place, dropping off yunjin along the way, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. you've pretty much devoured all the pastries you picked up, leaving just a crumbly evidence of our indulgence. grandma will probably be disappointed, having wanted to see your reaction to having those treats after so many years.

stepping into your childhood home, the scent of grandma's kimjicheon is the first one to greet you. the place hasn't changed a bit since you last left. pictures hang on the walls, frozen moments of family history, and the decor is still the same mishmash of patterns and colors that only grandma could pull off. there's also those jars of shells sitting on the shelfs, she has kept all of them, you smile to discover. huening and you used to scour the shore for the prettiest ones, just to see grandma's eyes light up when you handed them over.

"welcome home," kai says with a grin. "gran!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the house. "look who's here!"

from the kitchen, you catch sight of your grandma approaching, her arms wide open. her smile, though as wide as ever, tugs at your heartstrings a bit as you notice how age has begun to take its toll, shrinking her form and bending her back. you should have visited more often.

"y/n!" she exclaims as she pulls you into a tight hug. "you must be exhausted from the trip. come in, come in. kai, get her bag upstairs."

kai grumbles under his breath but does as he's told. you shoot him an apologetic look, to which he responds with a mouthed "whatever."

your grandma guides you to the dining table and practically forces you to take a seat. she cups your face so tightly she could've pierced your cheeks. "you look so thin, y/n," she says, eyebrows furrowed. "your mother hasn't been giving you a hard time, has she? you know you don't need to listen to her..."

"it's alright, grandma," you reassure her. "i'm sure you'll fatten me up this summer."

she chuckles. "no doubt."

your grandma goes back to the kitchen after making it crystal clear she doesn't need—or want—your help. she even implies that a murder might happen if you dare interfere. meanwhile, kai rejoins you at the table after throwing in a cozier sweatshirt. it’s somewhat worn out and faded, so you recognise the pattern. one thing about kai is that he's always got that one beloved sweatshirt he's practically glued to. like he'd sooner part with a limb than toss it out. 

"hey gran, do you need a hand!?" he calls out as he settles into a chair.

"and risk my kitchen going up in flames? no thank you, kai," she fires back, earning a chuckle from you. you start to rise, with the intention of helping her, but her head pops out of the kitchen door. "and what did i tell you, y/n? stay put. you've had a long trip, you need to rest. keep an eye on kai, make sure he doesn't wreak havoc."

kai shoots you a pleading glance. "alright," you say, "from now on i'm cutting down on the teasing. you could definitely use some allies."

before kai even gets a chance to respond, your grandma swoops back in, balancing a tray of steaming rice bowls. she sets it down with a gentle clatter, her eyes stern as she addresses kai. "you ever wonder why they pick on you, kai?" she asks.

kai, caught off guard, raises an eyebrow. "hmm, i dunno. competitive market economy, possibly... there's natural selection, too." he quips.

"its because you're too sweet," grandma tells him.

"that's lovely, grandma. but could you maybe be nice to me in return?"

your grandma simply shakes her head, "absolutely not. tough love builds character. that's how i raised both your fathers."

"and what about y/n? she could use some character-building too!" kai protests, shooting you a playful look.

"y/n's had a long trip. she needs to rest."

kai lets out an exaggerated sigh, "unbelievable," but it's all in good fun as laughter fills the room.

you sit down through a lovely dinner with your grandma and huening kai, realizing how much you've missed them both. grandma had gone all out, whipping up all your favorite dishes just to give you the warmest welcome. eventually, she's the first to call it a night, but not before she showers you with advice for your new part-time gig at the bookshop starting tomorrow. from the best route to get there to where to grab the perfect cup of coffee nearby, and even which customers to keep an eye on – especially those tourists, she cannot stand the tourists.

after she's tucked into bed, huening heads to the kitchen and pulls out a couple of bottles of soju. "alright," he says, with a grin, "time to do what we've gotta do. we never got to celebrate our coming of ages together, did we?"

"like we had planned," you let out a soft chuckle, the memories of little huening kai and you planning your 18th birthdays bringing a warm nostalgia to your heart.

you raise your glasses in unison, the clear liquid inside catching the light as you clink them together. you tip back the first shot, the familiar burn of the soju spreading warmth through your chest. only then to you decide to ask about him.

"kai-ah, i met a friend of yours on the train today."

"soobin?" kai guesses.

"no, actually... taehyun." you say, and you witness his expression become slightly more serious.

"oh, got it… so, you talked?" he asks.

"yeah, you could say we did. he's not exactly the most talkative guy, but we had a quick convo," you explain. "honestly, i was kinda surprised to hear he's friends with you, you know, with him being into the jintaek sports cult and all..."

"taehyun is good." huening says, like it closes the case.

"i know. if he's your friend, then i'm sure of that… but, i'm curious, how'd you guys become friends?" you ask.

kai looks at you with an expression you find unfamiliar in him. he's never that stern, that secretive. "yunjin might've spilled some details to you… she's dying to know about that summer. but seriously, it's not a big deal. we just promised someone to keep it low-key. it's not about me, or else i'd tell you straight up. just leave it be," he says firmly, and it leves you speechless. huening pours more drinks, lightening the mood. "don't let yunjin blow it out of proportion. it's really not a big deal," he adds with a grin, softening the atmosphere, probably picking up on your guilt for meddling where you shouldn't have.

you're intrigued, obviously. how could you not be? but as the shots keep flowing, the heavy conversation turns into a heap of jokes, getting sillier as you get drunker. you can handle my liquor pretty well, so you're rational enough to suggest to stop when huening starts to look a bit woozy.

"yeah... i think I'm gonna call it a night," he slurs. "not 'cause i'm feeling sick, i'm good. just wanna throw up in my own bathroom. night."

"need a hand?" you ask.

"nope."

"promise you'll drink water?"

"yup."

"sleep well, then, huening-ah," you chuckle as he heads out. you linger for a while and hear a blow coming from the stairs. "need help getting you your room?!" you shout.

"all good!" he shouts back.

with the room to yourself, you check the time and realize it's not too late. you could go for a walk in the warm night air, but honestly, after the trip and all, you kinda just wanna kick back at home.

now that you're all alone, you check the time and realise that it´s not that late. you could go out for a walk. the night is warm, and you could enjoy some alone time with your hometown, but you're also a bit tired from the trip, as your grandma had very accurately been reminding everyone, and you kinda wanna stay at home as well.

how are you spending your night?

go take a walk. have some alone time with your hometown, go down to the beach, maybe reconnect with the natives...

stay home. indeed, you had a long trip and you need to rest. besides, huening and grandma are both asleep, someone needs to watch the fort in case there's visitors.

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush

[rpgsandbox]

In 2014, Magpie Games launched a Kickstarter for Urban Shadows, an ENnie award-winning tabletop roleplaying game of political urban fantasy that quickly became one of our flagship titles. For years, fans have praised both the game’s effortless explanation of the Powered by the Apocalypse engine and the groundbreaking content on race and urban communities, leading Urban Shadows to be a favorite of urban fantasy gamers, podcasters, and streamers alike.

Now—more than six years later—we are returning to the dark streets of the city for Urban Shadows: Second Edition, updating the game’s rules, look, and tools to better support moving stories of political urban fantasy. Featuring new playbooks, new faction mechanics, and completely revised materials from first edition, Urban Shadows 2E will thrust you into the danger and drama of the city like never before!

                      Download the Urban Shadows Quickstart here

Urban Shadows is a political urban fantasy tabletop roleplaying game in which mortals and supernaturals alike vie for power in a modern-day city. Vampires, faeries, hunters, wizards, and more clash in the shadows...or make backroom deals for their piece of the streets and skyscrapers. No one is ever safe, and everything is always at stake.

In Urban Shadows, you play unique and powerful archetypes, protagonists who are attuned to the supernatural world. While the mortal world remains ignorant of the struggles of the city’s supernatural denizens, you are caught in the middle of the physical conflicts and political drama of the city’s past, present, and future.

You might be a spectre bound to an artifact, unable to move on until you’ve resolved your trauma. Or you might be a clever vampire who controls the best blood supply in the city, caught up in a war between your kind and those who hunt you. Or you might be a veteran of your city’s ancient conflicts, someone who got out of the game but keeps getting drawn back in by friends and allies.

No matter who you are, you contain within you the power to shape the city’s destiny. What future will you choose? And what will your victories cost you?

Urban Shadows is based on the Powered by the Apocalypse system used by tabletop RPGs like Apocalypse World, Dungeon World, and many of Magpie Games’s own titles such as Masks: A New Generation, Root: The RPG, and Zombie World. The game uses the core framework of that system to provide a strong, simple way to create your own stories of political urban fantasy. You’ll create a character using one of several archetypes, and then you’ll take action, rolling two six-sided dice to resolve the outcomes of dangerous and difficult situations.

Urban Shadows creates stories like those you’d find in Constantine, Diableros, The Dresden Files, The John Wick franchise, The Last Witchhunter, Lost Girl, and The Wire.

In Urban Shadows, the city is a living, breathing character all its own. It hides dark desires, wicked deeds, and devious schemes, its shadowy tendrils a danger to mortals and supernaturals alike. Some residents have sacred sanctums or secure workshops—places to weather the storms of the city—but a sprawling metropolis lies just outside those little nooks, caring little if you prosper…or bleed out in the gutters.

But nobody faces the city alone. Even the humblest of imps has a small community, a circle of those who can offer solace in the face of problems and danger. But community is a double-edged sword—demanding as much as it gives—and the needs and desires of those same circles constantly shape and reshape the vibrant urban landscape of the city. Nothing lasts forever, but the city turns over nearly every night, different forces laying different claims to you and yours.

The city hungers. Will you sate its gnawing desires? Or will your enemies make you the feast?

The schemes and plots of supernatural beings have been a part of the city for as long as anyone can remember. The faces at the top may shift and change with the tides of fortune, but rarely does something occur in the mortal world without some push from those who lurk in the shadows. A new subway system? A contested election? A bank robbery? Nothing is what it seems.

But what is mere money or prestige to wizards, ghosts, and faeries? Who cares about cash or elections when trafficking in human souls or exploring other dimensions? The supernatural forces of the city—and the mortals who deal with them—know only one real currency: debt.

Debt is the power to influence those who owe you, the chits you call in to get things done, the ties that bind you to the rest of the city, and the proof that your word is strong and your bonds unbreakable. There are few true friends in the city, but your debtors always want to see you survive—you can’t pay up if you’re dead.

But there are other ways to triumph in the city beyond the economy of favors and patronage. Cruel rituals. Dark secrets. The temptations of the monster within you. Those who seek power at any cost will find no end to the magics and mysteries available for the merest price of a soul.

The streets bleed shadows—your debtors always around the corner—as the city threatens to swallow you whole. Will you die a hero… or live long enough to become the villain? Will you fight the darkness…or beg for power? The choice is yours.

Over the past five years, Magpie Games has developed and created multiple games that broke boundaries and redefined what PbtA can do. Now, we think it’s time to apply the lessons we’ve learned to Urban Shadows, making a game that’s tighter and easier to run, but also filled with new ideas and improvements, including new tools for players and GMs. We’re also excited to create a beautiful new book with visionary art and fantastic graphic design. In short… we’re making Urban Shadows 2E because we’re thrilled to revisit and refine our work!

Here’s a quick list of the major changes, many of which are already available in the quickstart:

revised basic moves, including new versions of turn to violence and let it out

revised playbooks, including rebuilt versions of The Hunter and The Oracle

two brand new playbooks: The Sworn (Power) and The Imp (Wild)

changing Factions to Circles—see below—and adding Circle Status to represent standing

a new downtime phase of the game focused on player-facing city moves and rumors

replacing Storms with a new MC-facing faction turn, including new faction moves

expanded MC tools for generating your city and Circles at the start of play

We’re also adding a new mechanic to bring PCs into contact more often with each other: City Hubs. Cities are enormous spaces, and we found (in US1E) player characters could sometimes retreat to their different corners of the cityscape, interacting only with their own worlds and not with each other. With City Hubs, we want to create smaller, expandable environments to focus play and create drama. These Hubs—described below—position characters in neighborhoods, institutions, and community spaces in which they interact more frequently and avoid sessions in which PCs rarely come into contact and conflict.

Download the quickstart for a chance to test out some of these new features! We’ll be previewing more of them during the campaign, and we’re excited to get your feedback and refine Urban Shadows even more. Thank you to everyone who has given us feedback on 1st Edition since 2015!

In Urban Shadows, your characters juggle relationships and obligations, seeking allies and opportunities, cashing in debts along the way to get things done. When you seize the day, you reshape the city in your image and unleash your powers on those who stand against you; when your enemies move and hunt, you do your best to stay ahead of the oncoming storm.

Urban Shadows uses the Powered by the Apocalypse framework to resolve interesting moments of uncertainty through moves, bits of mechanics that say: “When you do [x], [y] happens.” Each move trigger—the “When you do [x]” part—is designed to help point at moments of uncertainty, when neither the players nor the GM know exactly what happens next. Some examples of such moments include:

When you throw a punch at a loudmouthed werewolf in a demonic club

When you plead with the wizard’s council to return a tome of magic stolen from you

When you try to escape the evil ritual you stumbled onto in the city’s sewers

When you ask one of your companions to forgive the debt your fae lover owes them

When you trigger a move—when you perform the action described in the move’s trigger—then the rest of the move kicks into effect, often requiring a die roll. You roll 2d6 (two six-sided dice) and add in one of your stats to find out what happens.

Every playbook has four stats:

Blood is the measure of your fight or flight instincts. It tells us how tough, dangerous, coiled, and quick to act your character is in a perilous situation.

Heart is the sum of your passion, charm, and charisma. It tells us how proficient your character is at getting what they want through negotiation and persuasion.

Mind is a reflection of your critical thinking and analysis. It tells us how perceptive your character can be and how good they are at manipulating others through deceit.

Spirit is a gauge of your connection to the “other” and your force of will. It tells us how focused your character is under pressure and what kind of power they can unleash.

Each stat is ranked from -3 to +3. You add your stat to some rolls when you trigger certain moves. For example, when you turn to violence, you roll 2d6 + Blood.

On most moves, if you get a 10 or higher (10+), things go your way! If you get a 7-9, you get what you were after, but usually with some cost or complication. If you get a 6 or lower, that’s called a miss, and the GM gets to tell you what happens next as things spiral out of control.

Urban Shadows has basic moves for all the usual conflicts in urban fantasy—fighting, lying, escaping, magic, and more—along with special moves for managing debts and your relationships with communities at large.  

The city is a fierce cesspool of politics and corruption, but there are clear connections and boundaries between like-minded residents, spheres of influence that make up the scope of politics within the city. Most call these divisions Circles, loose political groupings that illustrate the differing affiliations and loyalties in the world, each one a community with its own internal politics and dramas. The Circles are:

In addition to the main stats, each character also has ratings (from -3 to +3) for their Circles, measures of how well the character understands each specific community. A character with a high rating in a Circle has contacts and connections within it, and can easily interpret its political information; a character with a low rating in a Circle doesn’t understand how that Circle works or who the power players are within that community.

Circles aren’t organizations or formal alliances; they are more like broad communities or subcultures. The disagreement between two members of the same Circle may be as—or more—intense than any conflict between two differing spheres. A werewolf and a vampire both hail from Night, but that doesn’t mean they get along. It only means they understand each other...and the violence inherent in the language of their streets.

Yet there are factions within each Circle capable of acting in unison, alliances who can shape the city’s future—werewolf packs, witch covens, faerie courts, and more. In Urban Shadows: Second Edition, we’re giving GMs new tools to support those factions in a “faction turn” between sessions. We’re also giving players new tools to get stuff done in downtime, acting on the rumors they heard about what the factions have done in the past week or two of offscreen activity, all fueling the drama of the city and the power players have to shape the setting.

Urban Shadows uses archetypes (The Wolf, The Wizard, The Oracle, etc.) to help players create characters quickly and easily. These archetypes are only ever a starting point; you can always bring in different myths, legends, and ideas to make your character entirely your own.

Characters often acquire abilities and powers from other archetypes and may even change archetypes over the course of play. As your character advances, you may also find reasons to retire to safety, securing that character’s place in the city as you create a new character to continue your group's story.  

Absolute power...corrupts absolutely. Urban Shadows features a dynamic corruption mechanic, tracking your character's descent into darkness. When you take a life, give in to your monstrous nature, or cross a line you shouldn't cross, you mark corruption. As you gain corruption, you unlock new and potent powers, allowing your character to get what they want—at the cost of further corruption. The dark side of your nature bears productive fruit.

Power is never free, though. Cross the line too often and you lose your character to the darkness, handing them over to the GM for them to play as a threat. Corruption is a downward spiral threatening to push you over the edge, and not everyone is cut out to make it back from the brink. As your character gains new abilities fueled by the growing darkness within, you face a difficult choice: will you give up what you've gained to save yourself?

Corruption also encourages you to play to your archetype. Each archetype contains unique boundaries and taboos that define when you mark corruption. Life is always sacred, but werewolves, mages, and faeries all face unique temptations while stalking the city's streets.

Cities are giant, complex networks of interconnected communities caught in an almost constant state of change. In order to focus your characters’ conflicts and provide reasons for the players to consistently play together across those spaces, Urban Shadows 2E uses City Hubs—dynamic sections of urban life that frame the story you’re telling together without cutting you off from the rest of the city’s potential.

A City Hub isn’t just a physical district or area of your city. Instead, each Hub is a collection of institutions, relationships, and anchors—important NPCs—that create a background for the action in your story. Even better, Hubs can be added over the length of a campaign, expanding the city with new locations, conflicts, and NPCs as your story progresses.

Urban Shadows 2E features four City Hubs, each dominated by one of the four Circles:

City Hall (Mortalis)

Downtown (Night)

The University (Power)

The Arts District (Wild)

Perhaps your Tainted is a student at the local university, the same campus that lies within the Wolf’s territory...and the same institution at which the Wizard recently started working as a professor. Or maybe your Oracle has an occult bookstore downtown in the same office building in which the Sworn is regularly summoned to meet with the wizard’s council, just down the street from the family restaurant in which the Aware still waits tables.

Hubs are also a flexible tool for structuring your campaign as a whole. You can use two different Hubs set in the same city for different campaigns, you can grab elements from any Hub to use as inspiration for your campaign, or you can expand your campaign to include new Hubs as your city grows. We’ll release new Hubs through this campaign as stretch goals and as digital supplements after the Kickstarter.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, November 19 2020 9:00 PM UTC +00:00

Website: [Magpie Games] [facebook] [twitter]

#RPG #kickstarter #Urban Shadows #Magpie Games

[lhs3020b]

The Ragged Astronauts, by Bob Shaw

Look! A books post!

I recently found myself in a mood to revisit old books (again), so I found myself re-reading Bob Shaw's "The Ragged Astronauts".

It turned out to be rather different from how I remembered. (Content warnings apply below the cut - this is an interesting book, but it’s also a dark one in places too.)

SYNOPSIS

The planets Land and Overland share a common orbit, revolving around a common centre of gravity. In fact the two objects are remarkably close together, separated by only a few thousand miles. In our universe, this would ensure that both bodies would lie inside the others' Roche Limit, and thus would ensure the destruction of both worlds. However, the region of spacetime in which Land and Overland exist is configured in such a way that the value of Pi is exactly equal to 3 (what this implies for the values of 0, 1, i and the base of natural logarithms is never addressed). Given this, we can assume that at least some of the physics is a bit different; perhaps the tidal force declines even more steeply then it does in our universe. Whatever the case, the Land/Overland planetary binary appears to be dynamically stable, and while both planets have problems, neither of them appears to be in imminent danger of gravitational disruption. The arrangement is implied to have existed for a geological timescale, so however they managed it, Land and Overland appear to be in an equilibrium.

However, due to their remarkable closeness, the two planets have ended up sharing a common atmosphere. This is actually not quite as strange as it sounds - in our universe, there is a category of stars called contact binaries, where two extremely-close stars have gravitationally-distended each other to the point where their atmospheres actually touch. (Seen up close, a contact binary would look a bit like a sort of stellar hourglass, with each star being a lobe of the hourglass.)

The novel opens on Land, whose inhabitants are entirely-unaware both of their folly and of the imminent end of their civilisation.

The lead character, Toller Maraquine, is technically a member of the scholarly Philosophical Order of the Kolcorronian Empire. However, with his short temper, muscular physique and his difficulties with reading (he's implied to be dyslexic, though no-one in Kolcorron would know that term), he feels ill at ease in his birth station. He wants to join the Kolcorronian army, but in practise this is out of reach due to both the internal politics of the royal court and also the strictures of the Kolcorronian aristocracy. (The aristocracy is in some ways closer to a caste system than the "classical" feudal system it presents as. While readers will see it through a European lens, the way it functions and is structured feels a bit more similar to Imperial China, given its centrally-organised bureaucratic orders and the absence of any equivalent to the Three Estates system that was common in parts of medieval Europe.)

However, things are about to change on Land, and Toller may well get what he wanted. Whether he realises it or not, he's about to find himself living the classic morality play - Be Careful What You Wish For.

The Kolcorronian Empire has made itself into a near-dominant world hegemon by exploiting the brakka trees. As part of their reproductive ecology, brakka trees fire their pollen high into the air, dispersing it over wide areas. The tree is essentially a sort of photosynthetic wooden canon; the explosive reactions are powered by two crystalline materials called halvell and pikon, which the trees' roots extract from Land's soil. Halvell and pikon are apparently hypergolic - mix them together and you get a very high-energy bang. Brakka wood is extraordinarily tough - with this sort of biology, it has to be! - and so Kolcorron uses brakka wood in all the places where we'd use metals or ceramics. (In addition, Land is said to be a low density planet that is under-enriched in heavy metallic elements, which seems to have discouraged the development of any native metallurgy.) Kolcorron's technology is entirely based around exploiting the brakka, pikkon and halvell. As such they don't map easily to any era in Earth history; while their society has feudal structures they also have a trade network based around pikon/halvell-powered airships. Honestly at times, their society feels closer to a steampunk age than a purely-medieval one.

Only there's a problem: Kolcorron has chopped down most of the brakka.

Kolcorron, you see, is not a pleasant society. The people who run it seem to vary from greedy to outrightly-sociopathic. Its politics are basically a sort of semi-totalitarian absolute monarchy; even people on the King's advisory high council have to be very careful what they say, and ordinary subjects can basically be conscripted, raped and murdered with impunity by the aristocracy. As such, the aristocrats have little time for things like "factual advice". The Philosophical Order has been trying to warn the government that a severe energy crunch is beginning, and this is deeply-unwelcome news.

But worse news is coming.

Land's people share their planet with the ptertha. Ptertha are gas bag creatures, possessed of a hard-to-determine level of intelligence. Ptertha are also inimical to Landians - when they encounter one, the ptertha explode, showering the person in question with poisonous dust. Anyone exposed to ptertha dust inevitably dies soon after. There is apparently no cure for pterthacosis; the normal response of Kolcorronians is to simply behead a pterthacosis sufferer, apparently on the assumption that trying to treat them is futile. (There is no suggestion that this is about saving the victim from suffering; that would involve a capacity for empathy, which very few people in Kolcorron appear to possess.)

What the Landers don't know is that the brakka and the ptertha are symbiotic species; the ptertha feed on brakka pollen, and in return they protect the sessile trees from any predator. Predators like Landers who keep chopping the brakka down. While the ptertha never show any ability to communicate, they are apparently at least somewhat intelligent, in some way. They are able to adapt their behaviour and apparently even their own biology to help them attack their ground-based enemies.

Up until now, pterthacosis has been a threat to individuals, but society as a whole has been able to cope. All that abruptly changes on a sunny morning, when the ptertha launch a mass attack against Ro-Atabri, Kolcorron's capital city. Only it's worse then that, because pterthacosis has changed - it can now spread in a viral manner, from person to person. With an economy based around outdoor manual labour and nothing resembling a public health system, the empire is swiftly devastated.

In barely two years, two thirds of Kolcorron's population die. By the mid-point of the novel, the monarchy has concluded that organised society has no future on Land, and they're probably right. In fact the evidence supports the conclusion that their species is facing extinction. Civilisation is tottering, and when it falls, there is no expectation that anything will succeed it. And the ptertha? They just keep coming, more deadly with every attack.

But, but, but ... Overland is just _there_, right above everyone's heads. The two planets share a breathable atmosphere. Perhaps, just perhaps, a migration to the neighbouring planet is possible? This is what the Kolcorronian leadership attempts - an interplanetary migration, via hot air balloon.

As a sequence of societally-catastrophic events take place, Toller Maraquine finds himself at the front of all of them, undertaking a personal journey that will take him from the Philosophical Order to the front ranks of the military, and eventually even to the surface of Overland itself.

OBSERVATIONS

This book was ... different ... from how I remembered it. I didn’t remember it being anything like as dark or as violent as it is.

First off, deary me, Land is a bleak place to live. Even before person-to-person transmission of pterthacosis becomes A Thing, the Kolcorronian Empire is a militaristic, authoritarian, dictatorial mess. The other societies on the planet don't seem to be any better; Kolcorron is bordered by tribal societies who practise virgin sacrifices. The opposite hemisphere of the planet is occuped by Chamteth, who appear to be an isolationist, xenophobic, theocratic empire. Kolcorron's response to the brakka shortage and the ptertha-driven economic collapse is to launch a genocidal war of conquest against Chamteth. This isn't to take Chamteth's land - rather, it's simply to steal their better-conserved brakka forests. As it is, Chamteth would probably have seen them off, but the Kolcorronian forces are followed into Chamtethian territory by the new, mutant ptertha. Chamtethians turn out to be even more vulnerable to pterthacosis than Kolcorronians, and their entire society is essentially destroyed within a matter of months. To his credit, Toller is increasingly-nauseated by the horrors that take place within the Chamteth campaign, though it's also notable that he doesn't attempt to repudiate it.

As for gender and representation, well, you won't really find any in this book. There are two female characters, Gesalla Maraquine and Fera Rivoo, but they're not treated well in the narrative. What happens to Gesalla is grim - Kolcorron's ruling family practise a particularly-twisted version of prima noctis, and the walking bipedal monster that is Prince Leddravohr doesn't miss his chance to inflict some personal misery on the Maraquine family. (Arguably Kolcorron's rot is from the top down - King Prad clearly knows what his depraved son is like, and has done nothing to rein him in.)

As for Fera, Toller actually marries her, then forgets she exists halfway through the book. Yes, seriously. The last mention of his wife is that she apparently moved out of the Maraquine household at some point; Toller is entirely unbothered by this. He doesn't even think about her during the evacuation. Admittedly rescuing her from the chaos in Ro-Atabri as the city disintegrates on its final day would have been a tall order, but he doesn't even try.

There is also a lot of bad sex in this book. Basically, any capital-P Problematic sex trope you can imagine? They're all here. The fail is fractal. It's bad even for the mid-80s, which was when this book was published. (It very much belonged to that period when SFF authors suddenly discovered they could write about sex, and the results were near-uniformly dire.)

As for gay Kolcorronians or ethnic minority Kolcorronians, honestly, being either seems likely to be a good way to get yourself an arbitary death sentence. If any exist, they're keeping their heads down. Like I mentioned above, Kolcorron is horrible; honestly, one unexamined question in this book is whether this civilisation is even worth saving. If the Reapers rolled in and Husk'd them all, I think you could argue a case here for it being an improvement.

To top it all off, it's suggested that all this has happened before; during the novel, Toller receives a peculiar stone, composed of a mineral found nowhere on Land. Later, he is surprised to find a deposity of the same material on Overland. Also, the Kolcorronian state religion postulates an external, cyclical exchange of souls between Land and Overland, which possibly is a folk memory of a previous migration between the planets. Oddly, the book and the trilogy it's part of never really do anything with this idea. The colonists on Overland never find any ruins, or any evidence of prior inhabitation by their own kind.

The positive qualities of the novel are that its viewpoint characters aren't 100% horrible - by the end of the book, Toller has turned into a somewhat-improved person than he was at the start. Lain Maraquine is that rarest thing in Kolcorron, a person who is actually genuinely-sympathetic and who actually does care about the welfare of other people. Lord Glo, while a senile drunkard, is also someone who is able to see the bigger picture and his early insights ultimately hold the key to ensuring that at least part of society survives the ptertha crisis. Gesalla turns out to be different from Toller's initial impression of her - honestly, Gesalla's a more interesting person then he is - and the monster Leddravohr at least ends up dead, so there is that. Also the new regime on Overland winds up in the hands of Prince Chakkell, who appears to be the most-sane of the pre-migration ruling quartet. (Chakkell is still fairly-unpleasant in many ways, but he's Lawful Evil than Leddravohr's Chaotic Evil and Prad's Neutral Evil. In fact, his dislike of Toller aside, you can argue a case for Chakkell being more Lawful Neutral, I think. That seems to be about as "benign" as the Kolcorronian monarchy is capable of being.)

The novel is also a page-turner. Awful as Kolcorron is, there is a sort of nightmarish clarity to its demise. It has that "can't look away from the trainwreck" quality. The book doesn't bore you - it may horrify you, it may appall you in places, but you're not bored. Also the mechanics of the inter-planetary migration are well-realised. The Kolcorronians' desperate struggle to flee their own world feels real. (I will admit some skepticism about whether a society undergoing a freefall demographic collapse worse than our Black Death is going to be able to run any large-scale projects, but perhaps sheer desperation counts for something here.)

The setting is also vivid and interesting. The planetary binary and the sky packed full of stars, galaxies and meteors - even during the daytime - was something that made a deep impression on me when I read it the first time. In our age with its increasingly-decarbonised electricity and the beginnings of an electric car transition, the brakka/halvell/pikon oil analogy does feel a bit heavy-handed, but it would have been timely when the book was written in the 1980s.

The last thing I'll note about the book is that it has some odd pacing. There are some rather-jerky time-skips - at one point, we jump two entire years between paragraph-breaks! There are also some sections that drag on longer than they perhaps should.

I don't know whether I can fully recommend this one - really, that depends on your tolerance for problematic content! - but it certainly does provide a unique reading experience.

#LHS reads #books 2021 #bob shaw #the ragged astronauts

[96thdayofrage]

In 1808, Congress banned the importation of enslaved people from overseas, but a domestic slave trade flourished in the United States during the first 60 years of the 19th century. From 1800 to 1860, more than 1 million enslaved people were forcibly moved across state lines, shifting American slavery’s center of gravity steadily southward and westward as slaveholders relentlessly pursued greater profits from cotton and sugar production.

Read: Slavery made America

Slave traders bore responsibility for executing the bulk of this massive forced migration, providing a labor force that made them indispensable to slavery’s expansion and thus to the broader economic development of the country. As conduits for the financialization of enslaved people and their movement across the country, men such as Franklin, Armfield, and Ballard facilitated the systematic extraction of capital from Black labor and Black bodies that circulated around the country and around the world, and that benefited nearly everyone but the enslaved themselves. Their business, which I explore in my forthcoming book, The Ledger and the Chain, utterly belies any notion that slavery sat at the margins of American society.

The domestic slave trade was no sideshow in our history, and slave traders were not bit players on the stage. On the contrary, the trade and its operators were pervasive in American life before the Civil War. They played vital roles in shaping the demographic, political, and economic contours of a growing nation, and we ought not fool ourselves into thinking we have left that past behind. In truth, we still live in the world that Franklin and Armfield’s profits helped build, and with the enduring inequalities that they and their industry entrenched.

In 1828, franklin, a native of Tennessee, and Armfield, a native of North Carolina, signed “articles of co-partnership,” formalizing a business arrangement to work together as dealers in enslaved people. Both had been slave traders for a number of years before they joined forces, but they had in mind a different kind of operation than either had been involved with before. Investing the modern equivalent of roughly half a million dollars between them, they rented a three-story townhouse with an attached walled compound in Alexandria, Virginia, where Armfield purchased, accumulated, and stashed enslaved people. From there, he sent them to New Orleans, usually by ship down the Atlantic coast, into the Gulf of Mexico, and up the mouth of the Mississippi River. Franklin received the shipments there, sold some of the captives in the city, and sent the rest upriver by steamboat to the company’s sales facility and showroom in Natchez.

Franklin and Armfield brought on Rice Ballard, a native of Virginia, as a third partner in 1831. The company stationed him in Richmond, where he worked out of a private jail, purchasing more enslaved people and sending them down the James River to Norfolk, where they were added to the vessels dispatched by Armfield as they headed south.

Within just a few years, Franklin and Armfield was the largest domestic slave-trading operation in the United States, and larger than any operation before it had ever been. The company ran daily advertisements in multiple newspapers announcing that it had “cash in market” and would buy “any number of LIKELY NEGROES.” It had in its employ a small army of purchasing agents and subagents, who bought slaves across more than 20,000 square miles of Maryland, Virginia, and the District of Columbia. It shipped 1,000 to 1,500 enslaved people to the lower South every year, mostly on one of three brigs that composed a private fleet owned by the company. After unloading their cargo, those brigs often brought cotton, sugar, and other commodities back for delivery to merchants from New York to Virginia, opening still another revenue stream for the company. Gross receipts for Franklin and Armfield came to the modern equivalent of millions of dollars annually, measured simply by inflation. Measured as a share of GDP, they came to several hundred million dollars.

Read: How to steal things, exploit people, and avoid all responsibility

Franklin and Armfield succeeded in part because of timing. The first five or six years of the 1830s brought the biggest economic boom the United States had ever seen, and the core of that boom lay in the land, slave, and cotton economy of the lower South. The region’s white population increased by nearly 1 million in the 1830s, encouraged by federal policies that forced Indian nations off the best cotton land on the continent and by banks that flooded the lower South with easy credit and cheap loans. Demand for slaves skyrocketed accordingly, and during the 1830s, slave traders moved about as many enslaved people via the interstate trade as they had in the previous two decades combined. Though Franklin, Armfield, and Ballard might have done well whenever they went into business together, it is unlikely they could have done better than to have started their endeavor precisely when they did.

The company succeeded, too, because its operators concealed the brutality that served as the foundation of their business with efforts to build sterling public reputations. In their correspondence, the partners often referred to themselves as “robbers” and “pirates,” reveling in a kind of roguishness derived from being engaged in an industry that everyone understood was more than a bit dirty and had no room for sentimentality. In their eyes, enslaved people were merchandise, marketable commodities useful solely to the extent that they could be exploited for profit. Franklin and Armfield routinely separated enslaved families; disposed of enslaved people who had died from disease under cover of darkness, lest potential customers shy away from purchases; kept whips and rifles handy to control those they imprisoned and trafficked; and always kept an eye out for young enslaved women who could bring a premium on the market as “fancies” whom white men might want to rape.

At the same time, however, Armfield acted the consummate professional at his Alexandria headquarters. He offered customers and antislavery activists alike a tour and a drink when they appeared in his offices, and he claimed that he always stayed within the boundaries of the law, tried to expose criminals who kidnapped free Black people and sold them into slavery, and looked after the well-being of the people he bought and sold as best he could. Similarly, when slaveholders were unhappy with their purchases, as sometimes happened, Franklin typically preferred to make an exchange or even provide a refund rather than risk a lawsuit. That might have cost him money in the short term, but Franklin believed that having a reputation among white people for straight and dependable dealing would redound to the company’s benefit.

The real key to Franklin and Armfield’s success, in fact, lay in that carefully cultivated reputation, because it brought with it the confidence of the business world, especially banks and bankers. Most slave traders sought quick cash sales, and Franklin was perfectly happy for customers to pay for enslaved people with cash. But he also understood that a slave-trading company known for reliability and volume was a slave-trading company able to gain access to borrowed capital that would pay off more handsomely over time.

So as the company grew in size and renown, Franklin established credit lines with banks from New Orleans to New York, which provided assurance that even if tough economic times came around, he could always, as he put it, “get money when no other Trader can obtain a Dollar.” With that assurance, Franklin could sell enslaved people in the lower South to customers on credit, sometimes in exchange for negotiable commercial paper, and sometimes in exchange for mortgages on the very people he was selling, thus forcing the enslaved to ground the financing of their own sale. He held on to some of the paper and collected the debts it represented when they came due, and some of it he transmitted back east, where Armfield and Ballard turned it into cash to be pumped back into purchasing markets for more slaves.

The company thus trapped enslaved people in an endless financial loop, as confining in its own way as the ships that transported them and the prisons that caged them. And Franklin, Armfield, Ballard, and the legions of merchants, planters, bankers, and others who acted as their accomplices realized profits at every step.

More than anyone in their industry before them, Isaac Franklin, John Armfield, and Rice Ballard demonstrated how to become extremely wealthy from the process, and other men were watching. Though the three partners mostly left the slave-trade business in 1836, dozens of large slave-trading companies followed and built upon the model they pioneered, carrying out the trade for another 30 years, until the Civil War finally put an end to slavery and the slave trade alike.

The capital enslaved people had generated, however, would never come back to its producers.

[callmeunstable]

Angels & Demons - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Characters: Reader, Godling, Savilla

Summary: Alva tries her best to adapt to her current lifestyle. Savilla helps her by teaching her the ways around this world. But some dangerous forces are on their way. And a familiar face shows up.

Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the third part of my fic. I accidentally deleted this part as well as the second part so I had to reupload. I hate myself and I cried .

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song: I thought this fitted the scenery

Alva adapted slowly. It was important that if she wanted to pass as a villager she had to develop. Where she came from, who her parents were and why she came.

And they came up with an easy background story. Alva was the daughter of two Medics, Drarnoz and Isada of Verden. Verden is one of the minor kingdoms in the North, located at the very mouth of the river Yaruga, with Kerack and Brokilon on its northern borders and Cintra in the south, just on the other side of the river. After her parents died in a brutal raid of their village Alva sought a sanctuary by a family friend Savilla living in Riverdell. She took the orphan in.

James brought Alva the Ducates he had collected over the years which made up a small fortune. He promised to bring her every coin he’ll find in the future.

That’s how Alva started her life in a small village. Savilla had an extra bed for her and she didn’t mind sharing her food and clothes.

“You are pretty bad at healing you know that? You’ve been here for almost a month.” Savilla always made fun of the way the girl was bandaging or trying to figure out which plant was good for the specific treatment.

“I just don’t understand how you can separate all of these. They look all the same.” Alva sighed and took a seat. Trying to figure out which herbs were able to calm a burn.

“This isn’t your desire and I get it. It’s not your fault. And I maybe have something set up for you.” The mage smirked while she picked big orange blossoms from her garden. “Merigold, Alva. One of the herbs that can potentially save lives.”

“Don’t change the subject. What did you do?” The girl gave her a doubtful look while watching her picking even more blossoms.

“The tavern in the village. They need a servant. The old one got scared off because the olds kept trying to seduce her and she felt uncomfortable. But I figured you’d be perfect for the job.” She walked inside with a full basket in her hands.

“Are you insulting me or what are you trying to say?” Alva hurried after her, stumbling while getting up.

“You need to get better at walking when you want to serve the folks.” The maid laughed and started to cut the flowers into small pieces.

“But to get back to your question, no. But you are tough and have a huge temperament. Exactly what a good servant needs. The old douches won't have it easy with you.”

Alva let out a loud sigh.

“And I should warn you. They acquire you to look … a certain way.”

“I’m not going to dress like slut and shake my booty.”

“Yes…alright. Anyway, that was not what I was trying to say. They want you to wear your hair down and a dress that will make you look pretty but still can get stained.”

“That’s fine by me but why exactly do they want me to keep my hair down?”

“Maybe they liked it. You know the time we got some bread? That’s when the tavern owner offered me this position.”

The girl hummed in agreement.

“They’ll pay you well. You need that money if you want to find a way back. Mages aren’t cheap. They usually work for kings and queens.” Sevilla stopped with the chopping and went still for a couple of seconds. Her gaze went up and she looked Alva straight into the eyes. She hated that look. It never meant something good.

“You want me to find a different mage?” The girl was confused. How was she supposed to find one? She has no contacts whatsoever and it’s not like she could call the information desk to give her a number.

“I’m not sure who I want you to find for now. It's dangerous out there. I need to find out who I can trust with you. I don’t want you to get captured.” The mage was serious. She liked the girl and felt the urge to protect her. She was sure it was her duty in this life. To help this girl around her world and keeping her safe until she found a way to get back.

“Why would they? I mean I’m not that special and I pretty got at acting old like you.”

“I know. But if they see anything strange in you, just some glance. They don’t need a good reason anymore to imprison the people. It’s getting rough out here. Cintra will lose the next battle. Nobody in this kingdom wants to hear it but you can feel the tension in the air. The Niflgaards are coming and we need to be prepared when they do.”

“Are they like Germany in the Second World War?”

“You do know that I have no information about that.”

“Let me explain. World War II was a global war involving fighting in most of the world and most countries. Like shit went down. Most of the world's countries, including all the great powers in our world, fought as part of two military alliances. They fucking hated each other. World War II was the largest and deadliest conflict in all of our history. It involved more countries, cost more money, involved more people, and killed more people than any other war in our history. About 80 million people died. It included massacres, the Holocaust, strategic bombing, starvation, disease, and the only use of nuclear weapons against civilians in history. Like they could fly bombs from one country to the other through the air and just let them explode wherever they wanted to. It was horrible but I wasn’t alive when that happened.”

The mage had listened carefully only to realize that their worlds aren't that different. “You have to understand that the Nilfgaardian Empire is the most powerful in the history of the known world. It is located in the southern part of the Continent and boasts both a thriving economy and a strong, well-trained army with talented commanders.

It has expanded mostly through the conquest of foreign countries, which were then turned into provinces of the Empire. The Empire's inhabitants believe that "real" Nilfgaardians are only those born in the heart of the Empire and not those born in the conquered provinces. All of them are ruthless. Killing anyone and anything that’ll come in their way. We need to be careful and prepared.”

“So you think they’ll just walk in here like they own this place.” The girl felt she was pulled into something like Lord of the Rings style. Everyone wants to kill the other race. What was happening in this world?

“They won’t pretend that they own these lands, they will fight until they own the whole continent. Saying they want to protect the citizens but slaughter the like an animal for fun. I want you to be prepared that not everyone in our world will respect you, especially because you’re a woman. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Sevilla meant every word she said.

“That’s why I want you to be protected. Here.” She opened the wooden closet and pulled out a silky cloth. “Take it, I have my own. And I won’t need it, I still have the chaos inside of me that’ll help me if needed. I hope you never need it.”

Alva received the loth and lifted the cloth. Underneath there was bedded a silver dagger. It was heavy, but still manageable with one hand.

“Come on, I’m not going to stab anybody. This is not Assasin’s Creed.” She held up the dagger and inspected the weapon. It was beautiful, looking exactly like something a video game character would keep under their robe.

“I’m not joking around Alva! I want you to work so we have enough Ducates in the case of an emergency. If you’re not willing to protect your one life no one else will. I can protect you as far as my power goes but everything is limited. At this point, you don’t have a choice. If you want to get back to your world you need to adapt completely! Do you understand?” Sevilla handed her a scabbard possibly fitting for the dagger.

“No need to be rude.” Alva took and let the weapon slide smoothly into it.

“Attach it to your belt. It's best if you keep it on you at all times. Even while you sleep.”

The girl nodded and pulled her dress up to gain access to the pants she was always wearing underneath. She tied it around her waist and let loose of her dress.

“I understand but I hope I’ll never have to use it.”

“Me neither.”

-

The next weeks went on smoothly. Alva tried her best to lie to herself. If she realized that she left her entire family and friends behind, everything she loved. She didn’t know if she could handle the pain and panic that would appear again. She remembered her first week here. It was exhausting. She didn’t want to stand up and live in a world she didn’t belong. The only thing keeping her from ending it all was the promise Sevilla gave her.

She will bring her back. No matter what is going to happen. She’ll find a way out. And if she could get back, she can’t give up. That wasn’t an option. But she couldn’t think about it anymore. The pain that would crawl up into her chest even if she only thought about it for a second. It was unbearable.

Alva tried to act like new her role this life. At least for now. Her dad was Drarnoz of Verden and her mother was Isada of Verden. She was an orphan. Currently serving at the tavern where she was allowed to live with a family friend. Sevilla. That’s all she needed to remember.

Usually, no one asked about her past. That wasn’t a thing in this village. As soon as Alva said the word ‘orphan’ no more questions were asked.

She liked her job at the tavern. It was an easy way to meet new people and experience the world fully. Adapting day by day. But still being herself. Everyone loved the way she talked. Foolish but skeptical. No man was able to win her or flirt with her. She shut them down real quick.

Today was such a day

It was an afternoon and everyone was ending their work for the day coming to the tavern to get a well-deserving drink and sometimes a meal, but Alva knew by experience you shouldn’t eat the food of this tavern. Dossar, the owner, didn’t know how to cook but he surely wasn’t giving up on an opportunity of getting more money.

The folks around the area knew never to ask for a meal but it was always a pleasure to see the look on a travelers' face.

Alva was serving everyone with a kind smile but some men interpret this as a sign to flirt with her. Woldor, a farmer, decided to try his luck today. He was trying to gain her attention by whistling at her and holding up his cup of beer. Only for her to come and check if he needed a refill. But at his point, she was ignoring his calls and gestures.

But the man didn’t stop. So Alva thought it was her time to shine.

“I’m not an animal! You can’t win my attention by whistling at me and calling me with sloppy pick-up lines! Cut it before I start acting like one.”

“I’ve never been threatened so adorably before.” Woldor and the men sitting beside him star to burst out into laughter and continued drinking.

“Yes well, I’m about to adorably kick your fucking arse.” The laughter silenced and the men stared at the girl.

“This isn’t going to end well is it?” Her coworker Cozlo walked up to her and tried to calm her down, by laying his arm around her shoulder. Alva liked him. He was a good friend and was amazing at keeping her out of trouble when she had a tantrum. This was one of them.

“Fuck no.” The girl wanted to jump at the man and rip his eyes out. He was the one that couldn’t take no for an answer. He was harassing her since the day she started to work as a servant.

Getting ready to throw some punches Cozlo grabbed her by her waist and picked her up.

“Let me down! Let me show this bitch what my adorable hand can do around his throat! I want to see if he still thinks their pretty when I choke him!”

“I think I’m in love with you my dear!” Woldor called out for her while sipping on his beer.

“That’s fucking unfortunate!” Alva was yelling across the tavern while trying to fight her way out of Cozlo's grip.

“You are significantly more destructive than I was anticipating.” That was Cozlo's response after Alva successfully freed herself and was ready to throw fists.

“Enough!” The dark voice of Dossar echoed between the walls. “Woldor get your arse out of here before I tell your wife that you're harassing my servant again!” The tall and bear-like built man stepped in front of the counter and was ready to throw him out with his own hands.

“Can’t take a goddamn joke, can ya?” The farmer grumbled some swearings under his breath and tossed his payment on the table before leaving the bar with his men.

“Next time leave a fucking tip, bastard.”, Alva shouted out through one of the windows and held up her middle finger. “Fuck that dude.”

“You did well Alva, let me admit that.” Dossar gave her a thumbs up and headed back to the kitchen area.

The conflict calmed down and the girl started to clean the table the men had left as a mess. Scrubbing the sticky beer of the top.

“May I compliment you on your skill of handling this rude of a man, my beautiful Lady.”

Alva turned around and in front of her stood unmistakably a bard. The usual costume they were wearing gave it away in an instant. But the lute that was strapped on his back made it even clearer. The man wasn’t older than probably 30 years old. His clothing had seen better days and his brown hair was all messed up.

“Thanks, I guess.” The girl wasn’t in the mood for a conversation so she continued scrubbing the table.

“My name is Jaskier if I may introduce myself. I’m the new bard in town.”

“What brings a bard like you in a village like this?”

“I expected a job, which was me kindly offered by the master of this tavern. A nice man. Allowed me to show off my talent every evening.”

“Good for you Jaskier.” She wasn’t trying to be mean but the bard was definitely flirting and she just wasn’t in the mood for another thirsty mean.

“That makes us workmates if I’m not mistaken? I look forward to seeing more of you…?” It was obvious that he waited for her name and the girl let out her sigh while turning toward him.

“Jaskier, I don’t mean to be rude but I had men trying to marry me at least 4 times today. And a dozen of them were just trying to bring me to bed. So please, if you stop that flirty behavior I will see you as my workmate and friend. But that’s all I can offer.

“Of course, Alva. I didn’t mean to upset you in any way. I’m glad I found a friend already. My last company wasn’t that welcoming.” A half-hearted smile was on his face and he scratched the back of his head.

“Why? Were you trying to flirt with them too?” Alva smirked and put her hand friendly on the shoulder of Jaskier.

“Oh no. Trust me. That would have been very … disturbing, may I say so. I see around Alva.”

“Yes, Jaskier. I’ll see you around.”

#geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x y/n #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt x femaler reader #the witcher #the witcher au #jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x y/n #jaskier x you #jaskier x female reader #cirilla #white wolf #butcher of blaviken #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia #angels and demons #angels & demons #a&d #a & d

[fleckcmscott]

Things Past

Summary: Arthur shares a childhood memory with Y/N. She sees it differently than he does.

Warnings: Mild angst

Words: 2,645

A/N: This was an anonymous request! Thank you for sending it to me - it was a real challenge. A big thanks to Karen, too. Not just for beta-ing, but for helping with the basis of the memory in question. (I had an idea but hers was much better.) 

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Y/N was clad in her robe and brushing her teeth when Arthur entered the bathroom, flashed her a half-smile, and sat on the side of the tub. A mix of nicotine and cologne hung in the air. He must have smoked half a pack if he was trying to cover up the scent. The flexing of his bare toes on the dark tile floor, and the nibbling of his thumbnail caught her eye in the mirror. Once she rinsed, she grabbed a piece of floss and sat next to him, situating herself so they were hip to hip.

They were fast approaching five years together. Arthur and she still found respite in each other's presence. In shared warmth, not only in the familiarity of their affection, but also in the meeting of lips and bodies during lovemaking and otherwise. And in their companionable silences, which continued to hold a tacit acknowledgment that he could tell her whatever he needed, whether he uttered a simple word or two, or the rare paragraph.

Arthur appeared to be somewhere in the middle of that range of need now. It was evident in the tightness of his back as she put her palm on it. Rubbing gently, fingertips tracing his spine, she sought to bring him out. Like she had back when he'd sat on her sofa with his journal, a stand-up fresh off his first performance. The morning she'd realized she'd fallen in love with him.

His sigh let her know her attention was working. "Dr. Ludlow wants to talk about when I was a kid," he murmured. "I won't know what to say. I barely remember anything."

The subject of his childhood was seldom discussed. Even after his mother had passed away last spring; he'd been silent when they'd picked-up her belongings at the home. (He'd thrown out everything besides the periodic letters and photos Y/N had sent, stating "I like reading I make you happy.") They had never gone over the details in the Arkham file. He'd told her he hadn't and wouldn't look at all of it. He'd seen the headlines, scanned the psychiatric interview, touched the adoption certificate. That had been enough.

While he'd guessed she'd looked at Penny's records, she hadn't disclosed that she'd eventually read all it contained. Had learned the details of his neglect and abuse. Had seen the photos of his emaciated, bruised body. Her throat constricted as they flashed in her mind's eye. It was a mercy he wasn't aware of everything that had occurred. Even if his unconscious knew.

Of course, if he asked her, she'd answer any questions he had. Tell him all of it. But she didn't want to burden him. Or for him to feel shame, an unwarranted reaction her experience reading family cases had taught her was common. The two of them would keep doing what they always had: deal with the residual effects of his past, the symptoms of his illnesses together, as best they could. And for what she couldn't help with, he had his doctor and his journal.

"You can say whatever you want." Y/N bunched up the floss and tossed it towards the trash can under the sink, groaning as it bounced off the rim and back at them. "You could bring back some classic parts of your act. The one about how you hated school," she said, nudging his side. "And how the other kids were too unsophisticated to see what a sweet, funny boy you were."

He retrieved the plastic thread and stood up, threw it away. At his scoff, she realized her attempt to lighten his load hadn't worked. "That was, what? Over thirty years ago?" Then he turned to her, his thumb stuck in the waistband of his pajamas. "We have our life now. Why should it matter?"

Reluctance to admit one's past affected the present was understandable. She'd denied it to herself when she'd first moved to Gotham. Burying herself in her work had been enjoyable. And it had had the convenient side effect of allowing her to avoid processing the ways caretaking had changed her. Starting a relationship with Arthur had forced her to stop and take a breath, to examine its impact. It had done her good. She was certain it would him, too.

"Arthur." He took her proffered hand without pause and stepped to her automatically. She pressed her mouth above his navel, laid her cheek against the warm skin of his belly. "I'll be right here for you." The caress to her hair was featherlight and her hold on him tightened. "You've put so much work into yourself. This is difficult but you can do it."

Bending to her, he kissed the top of her head. "Go to bed. I don't wanna keep you up."

"It's all right if you do. I happen to like your company." At last, she succeeded in getting a chuckle out of him and a playful swat to her thigh. But he withdrew and wished her good night. Heading into their bedroom, she heard the click of the lamp in the living room, the opening of the door to the fire escape. He'd be outside for some time, she assumed. Quickly, she got one of his sweaters and brought it out to him. Though he raised a brow at her, his eyes were full of fondness. She slung the wool shirt over his shoulder and pecked his jaw before taking her leave.

~~~~~

Occasionally, Arthur would call her office before leaving for an appointment. He'd never say he was thinking of skipping a session. That he was having doubts they were working at all. That tough days were infrequent yet harsh. His flat tone and pauses clued her in, though. He'd been calm when he called today, and she'd kidded with him until his mood had buoyed and he'd said he was going. Promising a date night, if he felt up to it, had helped.

Currently, Y/N was in line at Marchetti's waiting for take-out. Wanting to catch-up on the evening news, she grabbed a Gotham Journal from the newsstand. Since the murders of Thomas and Martha Wayne in a robbery six months ago, Gotham's malfeasance appeared to have gotten worse. Reports of small businesses being cited for minor code violations, while establishments run by people with the right name and enough money were left to their own devices, flourished. Construction strikes had become more frequent, which she would normally support. But they had a way of ending as soon as the city placed a higher bid. The chief of police had been photographed hobnobbing with a crime boss, but the mayor had taken no action.

On top of it all, the Wayne Foundation, that thorn in her side, was drawing back many of the initiatives it had begun after increasingly austere program cuts. Including services at that damned medical center in Otisburg. They couldn't run out of funds, the board claimed. With the continuously sluggish economy, returns on their investments weren't what they used to be. The organization needed to ensure the Wayne's son would be taken care of.

Y/N didn't buy those excuses. She had nothing against the boy - she couldn't imagine losing her parents at such a young age. But how many mansions, gazebos, and toys did a child need? The skeptical part of her, the one that always suspected an angle, wondered if the increase in the city's corruption and the Wayne Foundations machinations were related...

Stop it, Y/N. Quickly, she shoved the paper back in its spinning rack. If she thought about it too much, she'd find a way to stumble into an investigation she couldn't ignore. While she'd be ready for one and relish it, she didn't want to focus on that tonight.

Their order was ready in about twenty minutes. Arthur and she had gotten into the habit of getting two individual pizzas, borne of his limited willingness to experiment with toppings. Normally, he was happy to take her recommendations, but he insisted cheese was just as good as any other kind and liked to have it to fall back on. She'd gotten Hawaiian for herself. If he was in the mood to eat, she was sure they'd split them.

Happy notes from the Sinatra live album she'd gifted him for his most recent birthday hit her as she opened the apartment door.  It was a pleasant surprise. Arthur only listened to the LP when he was doing all right. (It had prompted him to tell her of his wish to go see him in concert together, and he didn't want to taint that with negative thoughts.)

Upon peeking around the corner from the kitchen, she spotted Arthur in his writing nook, scribbling hurriedly and tapping his feet to the beat. He was obviously engrossed, but she didn't think he'd mind if she interrupted. Soon she approached his desk, plates in hand. "Knock, knock."

A gentle snort as he put down his pen, "Who's there?"

"Delivery service." She propped her hip against the edge of his desk, and placed the food next to his journal, along with a paper towel. "You owe me a tip."

"I do, don't I?" He angled his head up and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Thanks. I've only had coffee since this morning. Just been working on my material." Swallowing, he flipped back a page in his notebook. "How did the little boy learn to get home?" His green eyes met hers, a hiccup of laughter in his throat. He allowed about three seconds before giving her the punchline. "Step by step by step by step."

Her features softened and her grin drifted away as she absorbed what he'd jotted. In the past, his act had contained references to his childhood. References which could have been based on recollections, figments, or both. This was an observation in joke form, as his jests tended to be. "That's clever." She reached to brush a chestnut wave from his forehead, deciding to ask what she'd been curious about since she got in. "I'm glad you're doing so well. I take it therapy went better than expected?"

Nodding, he gave her a tight-lipped smiled, dimples on display. "Mhm." She moved to sit more fully on his desk, straightening as she secured her paper towel to the neckline of her blouse. They munched quietly, glancing between their slices and each other. It was clear he wanted to tell her more. After he finished his first bites, he shifted in his chair. "I remembered something nice."

A weight rolled off her shoulders, and the corners of her mouth turned up. "That's wonderful."

"Yeah." His teeth worried his thin bottom lip, his gaze going to his plate. "I was at school late - maybe I got in trouble for laughing. Penny was supposed to get me. But I think she forgot, so I had to walk home... It was dark. I hadn't gone that far by myself."

With every word he spoke, Y/N's elation ebbed, replaced by sympathy. But she didn't stop him. "The next day was the same. My mother wasn't there." He still switched back and forth between her name and that title, though he used the latter less and less. "I buttoned my coat and tied my shoes on my own." The satisfaction reflected in his expression contrasted with the pain welling in her. "The steps were icy, but I didn't fall once."

A hitched chuckle left him. "Penny stared at me when she finally answered the door. She couldn't believe I remembered the way home. Then she picked me up." His eyelids fluttered. And the beam on his face was blinding. "She said I was a good boy and told me I was big enough to walk home from then on. She gave me a quarter for a movie." His voice became small, as small as the boy in the story. "I think she was proud of me."

Y/N kept her stare fixed to the floor. Her chewing had slowed, then halted completely. A question nagged at her, even as she assumed the answer would hurt. "How old were you?"

A slight shrug in the corner of her eye. "Six? Seven?"

It shouldn't have stunned her that what he'd introduced as "nice" was to the contrary. But she was gutted. The implications behind it tightened her chest. Was it the last time his mother had held him? Had he gone to the damned movie theater alone, too? Why the hell had the city given him back to Penny?

She'd spent a lot of effort helping him learn that it was okay to be angry and upset sometimes. That he didn't have to lie to her about how he felt. That he didn't have to hide if things were too much for him or he had a bad day. And here she was, doing her best to paste on a smile for him. The difference, she supposed, was that it was to protect him. Not to lie to herself.

She didn't want him to have an inkling regarding the tumult she'd experienced in the last five minutes. That this memory wasn't ideal. Telling him how to feel about it would be crossing the line from honesty into cruelty. There had to be a truth in this she could be happy about. And following some pondering, she found one. He had so few memories from his youth. She supposed he'd been fortunate to retrieve one he considered positive, even though it broke her heart.

She permitted herself to sniff once, blinked a few times at the carpet, and looked to him. "I'm glad you have that to hold onto." Thank god she'd managed to keep her voice from wavering. She distracted herself by squeezing his hand, then brought his knuckles to her lips. "You deserve it."

After a sharp exhale, Arthur moved his palm to hold her shoulder and drew her to him. "You know how you needed me to get into NCB studios? To do your job?"

Twisting to put her plate on the desk, she couldn't stop her giggle. It hadn't been her job - it had been the opposite, frankly. "Of course."

"You're like that for me when it's hard." It was a simple comparison, but she thought it was one of the most beautiful she'd ever heard. She pushed her lips to his, titling her head to deepen the connection and cup his cheeks.

He loosened himself from her grip and grabbed the paper towel she'd tucked into her shirt. Laughing, he tried to wipe away the grease she'd gotten on his face. Y/N plucked the napkin from him and weaved her fingers into his silky hair, imploring him not to care. She looked down at him, unable to stop a smile from forming.

Damn, she was a lucky woman. How did he manage to cheer her, even with the ache lingering in her breast? She'd have to be extra sweet to him in the upcoming days. Hug him tighter, longer, until he pushed her off and shook his head with a smirk before pulling her back in again. It would soothe her, allow her to deal with the mixed emotions she felt at his recollection. Ensure his joyful mood stuck around and make him happy.

She'd start tonight. "We can skip Gotham News and watch whatever you want." She tapped his chest. "You pick."  

"I like watching the news with you." He grinned, then. "But I rented a movie. A comedy from the thirties. There's dancing."

Comedies were much more his cup of tea than hers. But she'd watch anything to sit next to him, to see joy in his eyes, to hold and be held by him. She nuzzled at him and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure we'll love it."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @howdylilflower​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​@fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​ @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

[daenerys-targaryen]

“She destroyed the economy,” ?? The economy was built off the slave trade??? if the economy is built on slavery it deserves to be destroyed. I’m not sure how to get it through peoples heads. Slavery bad you fucking idiots. Not directed at you!! Your doing amazing and I’d die for you!! This is directed the people replying to one of your posts.

Absolutely! I am of the opinion that the ends do justify the means. Some people are just stuck in their own ideas about what a character is even with textual evidence that contradicts that set idea. Daenerys isn’t perfect, she’s made mistakes along the way, but so has oh, every other character in the series. Her and Jon are the only two of the main five who have had journeys majorly related to politics and ruling. Jons actions literally got him murdered. They’re both incredibly young and both are inexperienced and are going to make mistakes.

Honestly, Daenerys is a sensitive spot for a lot of us because she means so much to every one of us in different ways, we’re used to people vilifying her and holding a certain bias against her in favor of other characters, and the got finale really didn’t do us any good lol. It’s tough for me particularly because it feels like someone is attacking my best friend or someone I care deeply for and not being able to do anything about it. I process emotions as first anger and then sadness. I get incredibly angry and frustrated, then once the anger is gone I just get really really really upset and blue about it. I get upset that people genuinely truly think and believe these things when it’s just such a misunderstanding of her character and the double standards the fandom has against Daenerys drive me up a wall. Especially with this person, they seemed to think that everything Jon has done was morally correct whilst Daenerys freeing slaves was self serving and she was wrong for doing it because she’s an outsider who doesn’t respect essosi cultures even though she was raised there and most definitely does respect their cultures as she’s literally the most cultured character in asoiaf (??) it’s the double standards and mental hoops for me luv xoxo

With that being said, I might have been a bit condescending in my responses, sure, but when someone is spitting out false information like it’s canon and factual, it irkes me a bit. I’ve learned that most of the time dealing with people online, you’re not going to get them to change their mind on something regardless of how much proof you have of them being wrong. I still wanted to see if maybe they’d see that what they were saying wasn’t factual and maybe they could be like oh yeah I forgot about that I take that back but no, I doubt they read any of the metas linked and just refuted everything any of us said with their own idea of what happened with no textual proof lol.

I let them go on for a while and allowed more of dany stan community see their uh, interesting take on her character, but I just blocked them because it’s getting a bit too out of hand. The post itself is now book length, and not at all what I intended for it to be, and if they’re just going to fight and insigate then I’m going to block you lol. Also, in one of their last replies, they said “what an awful community” as if they didn’t walk into my house and set the kitchen on fire lmaoo like you’re literally the one who put yourself in this situation?

Also, they said that they’re not an anti but think she will be a villain in the end, don’t think she was right to free slaves, doesn’t think she respects other cultures, thinks she forced westeros cultures into essosi cultures (she was exiled from westeros when she was an infant??? how could she force a culture on another culture she’s never experienced herself??) So yeah, I’ve considered them an one of the worst kinds of antis; aka the ones who say that they’re not antis and are neutral about her but hold her to higher standards than other characters and vilify her for every action she takes lol.

“Slavery is bad you fucking idiots” well, if you say that to them like I did then you’ll get the “of course slavery is bad but-“ quote they always love to pull. Or you could take that persons same approach and try to show the slavers side of the situation rather than the actual enslaved people. Yes your opinions on ending fictional slavery most definitely mirror your real life politics and I’d like for you to stay 500 ft away from me at all times!

I can say it’s been free entertainment for us, though!

#long post #didn’t mean for this to get so long sorry followers JEJRJRHE #leah has mail

[leadingmanufacturers47]

Fasteners Manufacturers in India: Fasteners

The attachments are the most significant members of their hardware family. They are frequently employed so as to mend two physically distinct identities. There are several businesses which require fasteners to fix unique products. Some of the most popular industries which employ these are the automobile, manufacturing, mechanical, instrumentation, construction, etc.. In order to cater to the requirements of the current market, the producers are providing their products in broad array of specifications. The marketplace is flooded with fasteners in the kind of the nut, bolt, washer, etc so as to serve the market in the best possible manner. Let me discuss some of the significant types that can be found on the market. Nut fasteners: All these would be the female threads that contain a pit in addition to the paths on its inner surface. These are widely used together with the male threads to be able to join two distinct items together. These are categorized as the male threads. These are frequently used along with the female threads in several industrial applications. Industrial fastener manufacturers are providing their product range from the wide array of designs and specifications in order to meet the necessities of the market. A number of the most well-known variants available in the nut section are stainless steel, MS, hex, lock, unlock, and etc.. In the bolt segment, there's high demand for classes like carriage, foundation, MS, Hex, J type, T type, etc.. The nut fastener manufacturers are offering their range in superb quality. They're using rated material during manufacturing to make sure that these products offer reliability and durability. The most popular material to make this product range is stainless steel. This is basically a metal which is developed using different metals. The most important elements of the alloy are chromium, nickel, nitrogen, carbon, etc.. These constituents help in providing specific attributes. These constituents help in providing high tensile strength, resistance to corrosion, tolerance to stress, etc.. These characteristics are very powerful in providing durability and reliability in the products. Apart from this, all these are also fabricated utilizing several other materials like aluminum, iron, etc.. To be able to offer extra protection, these are supplied using the anti-rust coating. The zinc coating, in addition to the PVC coating, is supplied on the products in order to provide extra advantage. Although the conventional sizes are for all these products are predefined yet the producers are providing their merchandise in customized specifications. The requirement for different businesses is different. So, the manufacturers are offering range in customized dimensions and substances. From the hardware household, the industrial attachments are considered as the most important member. The fastener is that the term that's used for the things that are utilized to hold two distinct objects. These are utilized in several industries like aircraft, automobile, construction, furniture manufacturing, etc.. Let me discuss important members of the family. The main member of this family is the nut fastener. It is widely used along with the counterparts in order to fix different items. The nut is counted as the female fastener. It basically includes a pit which is supplied with the grooves. These grooves help in holding the items closely. Owing to the structure, these effectively mitigate the effects of the frictional and vibrational forces, thus holding the things in the appropriate method. Another essential part of this family is bolt fastener. These are used along with the nuts so as to hold things. The outer surface of this item contains grooves and paths. All these are supplied as a way to decrease the effects of the frictional and vibrational forces. In the majority of the cases, these are used in the applications like automobile and aircraft manufacturing market. Here, the products need to withstand rough conditions in the shape of the vibrations, forces, etc.. Therefore, the arrangement of the fasteners helps in combating the impact of these forces. All these are manufactured in various types, shapes and therefore are categorized on the basis of the program. A number of the most well-known classes are hex, carriage, ss, etc.. The bolt fastener, as well as nut fasteners makers, are supplying their product range in broad specifications in order to meet the diversified demands of the industry. One more thing which is commonly used in several industrial applications is washer fastener. It is sandwiched in between the bolt and the nut in order to avoid any slipping. It is thought of as the protective layer which helps in holding two distinct items closely. The most popular kind of material is stainless steel to manufacture those products. This is basically the alloy of nickel, nickel, nitrogen, carbon and several other elements. This alloy provides high tensile strength and supplies tough resistance to the adverse conditions. Due to the property, it easily withstands rough problems. The manufacturers are also offering their collection in the customized designs and shapes. They are using advanced technology and machinery in order to meet the particular demands of the marketplace. An individual can easily get the desirable the desired product range in the manufacturers at factory prices. As per latest statistics and market research, the worldwide market of industrial fasteners will witness an increase of 5.4 percent until 2018. It is expected that the industry will likely be going to make the earnings of $94 billion in the upcoming calendar year. This is anticipated due to the simple fact that the industries such as automobile manufacturing, machinery and other products will be seeing prosperity and growth in the upcoming years. It's also suggested that the growing economies will be focusing more on the creation of the goods. To be able to meet the challenging requirements of the industry, the industrial fasteners manufacturers are offering their broad collection. All these are highly demanded in the industries like construction, mechanical, production, hardware, furniture, automobile, machinery, etc.. The broad array of attachments consists of nuts, bolts, washers, screws and a lot of different items. Let me talk first what precisely the nut attachments are. These are basically the female fasteners. Coming on to their mechanical structure, these basically contain hole with the helical tracks on its own surface. All these, when used along with their counterpart i.e. the bolts, are utilized to fix to various physically separated entities. These are available in various sizes, designs and specifications in order to satisfy the diversified requirements of the business. To get added details on Fasteners Manufacturers in India please learn more here. Another important member of this family is bolt fastener. This is basically the man fastener that includes the tail. On application, this tail must get inserted in the pit of this nut to fix both distinct mechanical structures. These include grooves or tracks on the outer body. These aid in repairing the two separate joints. An additional member of this family that is widely used for industrial uses is the washer. It's secured in between the two joints so that no slipping happens on movement. A very popular example to understand the functioning of those fasteners is pipeline system. This consists of big pipes which are utilized to transport water from source to sink. For big distance transport, it's mandatory to put in pipes. These are combined with the assistance of nuts, washers and bolts. These components components fix the two distinct pipes, thus allowing transmission of water for the massive distance. The industrial fasteners manufacturers typically use premium quality raw materials to develop their products. These days, stainless steel is widely used to manufacture those things. The reason for this is that those offer high tensile strength during the operation. The stainless steel is a specially created alloy which can easily withstand rust and corrosion. These are offered in the customised dimensions and specifications in order to cater the requirements of the industry. Another advantage of purchasing from the industrial fasteners wholesale providers is that you receive the desired products at competitive prices. The nut attachments are essentially female attachments which comprise the threaded hole. These are broadly employed in many industrial processes so as to join together two physically separable entities. These are popular along with their partners i.e. the bolts to join different parts or machinery or any other thing. The duo finds tremendous usage in a variety of industries like manufacturing, machinery, auto, aerospace, construction, hardware, furniture, etc.. It is not possible to transfer or manufacture a product with the huge dimension. For example, in the case of the vehicle, it's manufactured by assembling different elements. These components are constructed or joined together with the help of bolt and nut fasteners. Another example of to comprehend their working is the very long system of water or gas pipelines. In order to transfer gas or liquid from one place to another, the pipeline system is used. But having this method of very substantial length is practically not feasible. So, pipes using different lengths are joined together with the assistance of washers, nuts, and bolts to create the transport of gas and water practically possible. The nut fastener includes a hole. The hole of the comprises threads or the spiral paths in order to overcome the action of frictional forces. To be able to join two distinct substances, it is necessary to insert the tail of the male fastener into the hole of the female fastener i.e. the nut. The outer surface of the bolt also contains spiral paths which when combined with the paths of this nut generates the frictional forces. These forces assist in holding the two items together. These frictional forces overcome external forces such as vibration, movement, etc and hold tightly two physically distinct substances. The nut fastener manufacturers are providing comprehensive range so as to meet the challenging requirements of the market. One of the most popular categories which are highly demanded in the current market is stainless steel nut fastener. The stainless steel is essentially a metal of different elements like nickel, chromium, carbon, nitrogen, etc.. These ingredients, when blended together, exhibit very high tensile strength. Furthermore, this metal also provides resistance to corrosion, tolerance to exceptionally large temperature also has the power to withstand tough working conditions. Owing to these properties, this alloy is used to fabricate this assortment of fasteners. Although the conventional dimensions are predefined, yet the producers are also offering custom dimensions. The reason for this is that every business has some special guidelines associated with sizes. In order to satisfy this condition, the habit ranges are also accessible on the market.

#Fasteners Manufacturers in Mumbai

[beomgyw]

SOJU, ONE GLASS

quick recap; you met soobin on the train, and overheard him on a compromising call. still, he seemed nice, so you chose not to give it too much importance.

if you're new here; go back to the beginning !!

huening and you roll up to your place, dropping off yunjin along the way, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. you've pretty much devoured all the pastries you picked up, leaving just a crumbly evidence of our indulgence. grandma will probably be disappointed, having wanted to see your reaction to having those treats after so many years.

stepping into your childhood home, the scent of grandma's kimjicheon is the first one to greet you. the place hasn't changed a bit since you last left. pictures hang on the walls, frozen moments of family history, and the decor is still the same mishmash of patterns and colors that only grandma could pull off. there's also those jars of shells sitting on the shelfs, she had kept all of them. huening and you used to scour the shore for the prettiest ones, just to see grandma's eyes light up when we handed them over.

"welcome home," kai says with a grin as you give him a nod of acknowledgment. "gran!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the house. "look who's here!"

from the kitchen, you catch sight of your grandma approaching, her arms wide open in a welcoming embrace. her smile, though as wide as ever, tugs at your heartstrings a bit as you notice how age has begun to take its toll, shrinking her form and bending her back. you should have visited more often.

"y/n!" she exclaims as she pulls you into a tight hug. "you must be exhausted from the trip. come in, come in. kai, get her bag upstairs."

kai grumbles under his breath but does as he's told. you shoot him an apologetic look, to which he responds with a mouthed "whatever."

your grandma guides you to the dining table and practically forces you you yo take a seat. she cups your face so tightly she could've pierced your cheeks. "you look so thin, y/n," she says, eyebrows furrowed. "your mother hasn't been giving you a hard time, has she? you know you don't need to listen to her..."

"it's alright, grandma," you reassure her. "i'm sure you'll fatten me up this summer."

she chuckles. "no doubt."

your grandma goes back to the kitchen after making it crystal clear she didn't need—or want—your help. she even implied that a murder might happen if you dared to interfere. meanwhile, kai rejoins you at the table after throwing in a cozier sweatshirt. it´s somewhat worn out and faded, so you recognise the pattern. one thing about kai is that he's always got that one beloved sweatshirt he's practically glued to. like he'd sooner part with a limb than toss it out. 

"hey gran, do you need a hand!?" he calls out as he settles into a chair.

"and risk my kitchen going up in flames? no thank you, kai," she fires back, earning a chuckle from him. you start to rise, with the intention of helping her, but her head pops out of the kitchen door. "and you, y/n, stay put. you've had a long trip, you need to rest. keep an eye on kai, make sure he doesn't wreak havoc."

kai shoots him a pleading glance. "okay," you assure him, "from now on i'm cutting down the teasing. you could definitely use some allies."

before kai even gets a chance to respond, your grandma swoops back in, balancing a tray of steaming rice bowls. she sets it down with a gentle clatter, her eyes stern as she addresses kai. "you ever wonder why they pick on you, kai?" she asks.

kai, caught off guard, raises an eyebrow. "hmm, i dunno. competitive market economy, possibly... there's natural selection, too." he quips.

"its because you're too sweet," grandma tells him.

"that's lovely, grandma. but could you maybe be nice to be in return?"

your grandma simply shakes her head, "absolutely not. tough love builds character. that's how i raised both your fathers."

"and what about y/n? she could use some character-building too!" kai protests, shooting you a playful look.

"y/n's had a long trip. she needs to rest."

kai lets out an exaggerated sigh, "unbelievable," but it's all in good fun as laughter fills the room.

you sit down through a lovely dinner with your grandma and huening kai, realizing how much you've missed them both. grandma had gone all out, whipping up all your favorite dishes just to give you the warmest welcome. eventually, she's the first to call it a night, but not before she showers you with a treasure trove of advice for your new part-time gig at the bookshop starting tomorrow. from the best route to get there to where to grab the perfect cup of coffee nearby, and even which customers to keep an eye on – especially those tourists, she cannot stand the tourists.

after she's tucked into bed, huening heads to the kitchen and pulls out a couple of bottles of soju. "alright," he says, with a grin, "time to do what we've gotta do. we never got to celebrate our coming of ages together, did we?"

"like we had planned," you let out a soft chuckle, the memories of little huening kai and you planning your 18th birthdays bringing a warm nostalgia to your heart.

you raise your glasses in unison, the clear liquid inside catching the light as you clink them together. you tip back the first shot, the familiar burn of the soju spreading warmth through your chest. only then to you decide to ask about him.

"kai-ah, i met a friend of yours... earlier today, on the train?"

"taehyun?" he asks.

"no... soobin." you say, and witness his expression become slightly more serious.

"right... and you talked or..."

"yeah, we did! and he was so nice, we really hit it off, i think." you say. "but then later, in the car, yunjin mentioned some things..."

kai looks at you with an expression you find unfamiliar in him. he's never that stern, that secretive. "of course she did... she's dying to know what happened that summer. and i promise it´s not that big a deal. but someone asked us to keep it secret, so we have to keep our word. if it was about me, I´d tell you. but it´s not. so just let it go." he says. and you nod, unable to find any words to say. huening pours a second shot into both your glasses. "don't let yunjin convince you it´s a big deal, because it´s not." he now smiles, becoming warmer, probably after noticing your shame for meddling where you shouldn't have.

you're intrigued, of course. how could you not be? but shot after shot, that tense conversation goes morphing into a mountain of jokes, increasingly stupid as you get drunker.

you can hold your liquor particularly well, so after a few shots, you feel perfectly sane. still, you decide to stop when huening begins to get dizzy. "i think... I'm gonna head to bed." he slurs out. "not because I'm feeling sick, I'm totally fine. i just wanna throw up in my own bathroom. good night."

"do you need any help?"

"nope."

"promise you'll drink water?"

"yup."

"sleep well then, huening-ah." you laugh as he exits the living room. you linger for a while and hear a blow coming from the stairs. "need help getting you your room?!" you shout.

"all good!" he yells back.

now that you're all alone, you check the time and realise that it´s not that late. you could go out for a walk. the night is warm, and you could enjoy some alone time with your hometown, but you're also a bit tired from the trip, as your grandma had very accurately been reminding everyone, and you kinda wanna stay at home as well.

what are you gonna do?

how are you spending your night?

go take a walk. have some alone time with your hometown, go down to the beach, maybe reconnect with the natives...

stay home. indeed, you had a long trip and you need to rest. besides, huening and grandma are both asleep, someone needs to watch the fort in case there's visitors.

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush

[jswdmb1]

24 Frames

“You thought God was an architect, now you know

He's something like a pipe bomb ready to blow

And everything you built that's all for show 

goes up in flames - in twenty- four frames”

- Jason Isbell

This may come as a shock, especially to those who know me well, but I can be very stubborn. Sometimes this can work into my favor as it helps bolster confidence when I take a difficult position that I know is right, or it can help me persist when odds are long such as starting a new business.  But this often is a character trait that I know can hold me back.  In particular, I bristle at things I am told that I “should” do even when it clearly would be in my best interest to do whatever is being suggested.  It usually takes someone equally stubborn to get me to move off of my position, but this did happen recently.

My wife is always on me to watch various different television programs, but I always balk.  I watch some TV but is it well documented (on this blog) that it is pretty much limited to PBS and reruns of old game shows and sitcoms.  I don’t like to leave that comfort zone, and it takes a lot for me to try out a new show – especially one that is episodic that expects you to come back week-after-week. I know that means I miss out on a lot of good stuff, but I’m okay with that as it allows me to keep my time on the tube under control and I don’t get more involved with something than I really want to be.  But on this one particular show, she was quite persistent, and I was challenged to at least give it a try.

The show is Schitt’s Creek, and I am sure you have heard of it if you do not already know it well. If you haven’t seen it, do not worry, as I will not be disclosing too much about the program.  Even if you have heard a lot about it and feel you know the story, part of the charm of the show is watching the characters develop throughout the series, so plot turns and the such are not as important as in some other episodic series.  The basic plot is that an extremely wealthy family of four, including two adult children, are forced to move to a small town when they lose everything overnight due to a business manager not paying taxes.  The series starts with the scene of revenue agents raiding their mansion as the family frantically collects a few belongings, so no time is spent on their past life.  Every moment from the first scene is spent on their life afterwards which involves living somewhere in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of regular folks.  It sounds like a typical fish-out-of-water setting (think the second Bob Newhart show for the closest example), and that is certainly mined for plenty of laughs, but it quickly becomes clear that the show is about much more than this.

That is all you are going to get from me about the actual show, because no more details are relevant to the rest of this post.  Except that the acting in this show is brilliant and worth watching for that alone.  The father and mother are played by Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara, both of whom I have been watching for decades in their various film roles and on the hilarious SCTV program.  The chemistry between the two is so natural and genuine that you quickly adopt them as Johnny and Moira Rose and forget their 40+ years in show business as other characters.  The children played by Levy’s son Dan and Annie Murphy are equally good and get a lot of the laughs as their clear lack of reality in their past lives plays to insane results when applied to the real world of the town of Schitt’s Creek.  The supporting cast is not just a bunch of wacky neighbors but add much depth to the show and develop themselves over the course of the series, especially the character of Stevie played by Emily Hampshire. The character of Roland Schitt, played by Chris Elliot, may be the best second banana on television since Cosmo Kramer. Again, none of this gives away much if anything about the show or the various plot arcs, but it should give you extra motivation to watch as talent like this collecting in one place is rare indeed.

And why exactly am I so intent on you watching this show?  While the quality of the program and the enjoyment it will provide you is enough reason to dive in, I have discovered a much greater purpose to following the evolving journey of the Roses.  Even though the show was created over five years ago, and largely wrapped production on its sixth season before 2020, it has become for me the perfect allegory for the United States right now.  Our country is going through the same experience that the Roses went through much of the first two seasons.  After the sudden event of COVID-19, we found ourselves much in a place like Schitt’s Creek. Over seven months into this pandemic, we are still stuck in what life was like before and when will it ever return. I do not think this is much of a spoiler alert for anyone who is rational, but how the way things were is never coming back.  COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on our society, and we like to blame it for all of our current problems, but it simply laid bare all of our faults and weaknesses almost overnight.  We are now no longer able to push those existential problems aside and have to face them head on. Many of us are not up for the challenge and would like something to change things back overnight, but that is not happening.  It doesn’t matter if there is a vaccine, or a new president, we have to face that we collectively lived lives that were not grounded in reality and our fates hung delicately in the balance just waiting for something like COVID-19 to come and bring it crashing down.  Just like the Roses lost everything in one quick raid, we now find ourselves building our lives all over again in a strange place where we are very uncomfortable.

Now I know that is difficult to hear and very depressing, but here comes the good part.  Just because things have changed does not necessarily mean that we can’t grow and develop into something even better than we had before. Obviously, a deadly disease like COVID-19 is not something we ever wanted, and it has brought countless suffering and death to too many people, but it does provide for a starting point to helping us grow beyond some of the shallower lives we lead previously.  It may take a lot of tough love, but we will eventually get the virus under control and the big question will be what is next.  For me, there needs to be an evolution past wherever we were before this all went down. I think our guide can be the Rose family in Schitt’s Creek.  The a-ha moment for me came at the end of season two titled “Happy Anniversary”.  I will disclose nothing more about it other than to say it was a transformative episode not only for the Roses, but for my own outlook on things as we move into what will be a very dark winter.  

If you are a watcher of the series, some of this may make more sense to you, but I think even you could benefit from another viewing to see if you can apply some of this to your own life as well.  I am actually only through Season 3 so far (I know enough about what lies ahead to be able to write this post, but it hasn’t ruined a thing for me), but I am already making plans for starting over to pick up things I missed the first time around. And it is important that you start in the beginning and move through the episodes sequentially.  Not so much because you will lose the story, as many of the stories are self-contained within an episode, but because you will miss out on the character development along the way (again, kudos to the actors and actresses in this show who so brilliantly developed these characters). I know this is playing it up quite a bit but trust this one-time reluctant viewer to be assured that your time is going to be well spent.

This many come off as a review, but it really is not.  I mean, if I were a reviewer, I would include some of the above in my story (and end with four stars or whatever the highest rating is), but this has become so much more for me.  It has served as a life-saving antidote to the poison spewed in traditional media and social media that makes me nauseous on a daily basis.  I find myself occasionally daydreaming about a funny scene I saw, or a subtle profound moment in the show, which has replaced some of the constant worry about the pandemic, or economy, or the election, all of which have a life-or-death feeling to them.  It has proven to be a rare new tool in my arsenal against anxiety and it will end up being one of my lasting memories of 2020.  That is a lot to say for one show about a year as particularly disastrous as this one, but I sincerely believe that.  

So, don’t be like me and be stubborn if you haven’t seen this show.  As soon as you read my last sentence, get yourself on Netflix and start watching with Season 1, Episode 1.  And make sure you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow because the one negative is that it will be hard to stop once you get started.  But I think it is okay right now to binge on something that is finally showing us that there is a way to succeed in life without putting others down or placing selfish pursuits over relationships.  So, dig in and enjoy and I promise that I have learned one other thing throughout this experience – keep an open mind.  Because when you keep your mind closed, you shut out a world of possibilities, even when that world seems to have none.  

Enjoy,

Jim

[ilovemygaydad]

title: (love)

pairing: logince, queerplatonic moxiety

summary: sir roman and prince logan are in love, and they’re running away from the kingdom they’ve known for their whole lives to avoid 

warnings: forbidden romance, running away, mentions of witchcraft, homophobic kingdoms, bigoted kingdoms (against magical creatures), mentions of death, mentions of banishment, mentions of fear and anxiety, a single neck kiss, a tiny bit of yelling (nothing bad), mentions of being drunk/alcohol, mentions of kissing, and possibly something else

a/n: this was written for @adultmorelikeadolt to get them to eat. it worked. also, yeah that’s the title. it’s nice and i like it, so... blah

check my bio for commission info

buy me a coffee

-

A hurried knock sharply rapped at the door of Roman’s room at the end of the barracks, causing him to look up from his packing. He rushed to the door and flung it open, and not a half second later, he was tackled to the floor with a soft oof. The grip around him was tight but not harsh. In fact, it was more fervent than anything.

“Jeez, Lo, you couldn’t have been a little less forceful?” Roman chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the other man’s head.

“Don’t tease me, or I’ll have you tried for treason,” Logan grumbled.

“Yes, of course.” He buried his face in the prince’s hair to prevent him from giggling. “And you’ll explain why exactly you were in my room at the dead of night with two suitcases and your traveling cloak. I’m sure, dear heart.”

Logan raised his head to the knight, looking uncharacteristically worried. “Are you ready to go?”

“Almost. I was just finishing with my bedding. I’ll finish as soon as you let me up.”

Within a moment, Logan had rolled off of Roman and sat himself cross-legged on the floor to allow the knight to get up and finish packing his bags. He sighed, watching, and and said, “You have had three weeks to prepare to run away, and you are still waiting until the last minute to pack. Unbelievable.”

“As if you could expect anything else from me, Prince Boring. What? Were you packed by last week?”

“For the most part, yes.”

Roman scoffed and threw a bundled sock at the man across the room. Although their plan was extremely dangerous, and should they be caught, Roman would immediately be killed under the presumption of “kidnapping the crown prince” and “betraying the kingdom,” he knew that running away was the right thing to do. The kingdom of Idyllia was a good place on the surface. It’s people were happy and healthy; its economy was thriving both agricultural and mechanical exports. Things seemed wonderful, truly, and when people heard of the name Idyllia, they thought of prosperity.

However, despite those upsides, there were some severe downfalls of the kingdom. Magical creatures lived in fear of capture and death, and tight reigns were kept on education and knowledge. Despite there being low poverty rates, the socioeconomic classes were kept strictly apart, and it was impossible to rise up in the world. 

Not to mention that any relationship that wasn’t heterosexual was outlawed, and anyone caught in a non-hetero relationship was banished to the wastelands at the far edge of the kingdom.

So the crown prince and head knight, who were in a homosexual relationship, were running away from the kingdom that they had known their whole lives.

“Are you scared?” Roman suddenly blurted, looking over at his boyfriend. “What if we’re found out?”

“We won’t be. Virgil is right on the other side of the wall, and he’ll glamour us as soon as we get there.” Even as he said that, a spark of worry was evident behind Logan’s thick glasses. Roman really couldn’t blame him, though. He was a prince; his whole life had been spent in luxury, and now he was giving everything up for a brash knight. All because they’d happened to be just drunk enough after Logan’s eighteenth birthday gala to let go of their predestined roles and end up kissing in the darkest corner of the library.

It would have been far easier for Logan to either forget the kiss had happened or to snitch on the knight and get him sent away, but Logan hadn’t. He continued to visit Roman in the late hours of the night, and slowly, they fell in love. Somewhere along the line, they realized that they wouldn’t be able to let their relationship go once Logan was expected to find a viable suitor to carry on the royal bloodline, and they began to make plans to run away.

Roman had found out about two witches that lived far in the forest--one of whom specialized in glamours and disguise. He found an excuse to go on a solo quest out to find the witches, and just a few weeks later, he had befriended them. It had been tough at first since the younger had been highly skeptical of him for many days, but once the other had convinced him that Roman meant no harm, they were both easily won over. He and Virgil planned out a date to leave, and now the day had come to flee.

With a heavy exhale, Roman tied the final knot on his bags and hoisted them on his shoulder. He held his hand out for Logan to take. “Onwards to our new life.”

---

“PATTON, ABSOLUTELY DO NOT JUMP INTO THAT LAKE--oh my gods, I am going to kill that man,” Virgil muttered under his breath as he flopped onto the sandy shore of the lake next to where Roman was cuddling Logan. The four had been traveling for almost a month to one of the far kingdoms of the land, Xelana, which was known for its tolerance. They had never been enemies of Idyllia, but they had also been openly against many of the kingdom’s policies. There was very little chance that anyone in Xelana would even recognize Logan, either, since he had never been that far outside of his kingdom.

If Logan was being honest, he didn’t know if he’d ever enjoyed himself as much as he was now. Patton and Virgil, who he’d only heard about from Roman’s stories, taught him all about different kinds of relationships that weren’t solely sexual relationships between a man and a woman, and it was... enchanting. There were so many kinds of love that he’d been deprived of learning about--all so unique and interesting in their own right--for nearly twenty years. He loved every second of it. He lived for the moments where he and Roman could curl up on a sleeping mat as Patton told them all about people he’d met in other kingdoms, and he relished whenever Virgil would gaze lovingly at his queerplatonic partner (a term that had sparked an intense joy in Logan’s chest when he’d heard it for the first time).

“Hey,” Roman whispered, breaking him from his thoughts. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“My head is perfectly normal sized, Roman. Don’t be daft.”

“The only thing I’m daft about is you, my love.” 

Virgil gagged beside them. “Can you two please be disgusting somewhere else?”

“Oh puh-lease,” Roman retorted. “As if you and Patton aren’t worse.”

That started an intense argument between the two, and Logan just rolled his eyes at the ridiculous insults being thrown about. He merely leaned back into the side of Roman, closing his eyes and enjoying his freedom.

#logince #m writes things #sanders sides fic #moxiety #queerplatonic moxiety #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders

[beomgyw]

SOJU, ONE GLASS

quick recap; you met soobin on the train and overheard him on a compromising phone call. you chose to ask about it and found out that someone from middle school wants to talk to you but is too shy to do it.

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

huening and you roll up to your place, dropping off yunjin along the way, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. you've pretty much devoured all the pastries you picked up, leaving just a crumbly evidence of our indulgence. grandma will probably be disappointed, having wanted to see your reaction to having those treats after so many years.

stepping into your childhood home, the scent of grandma's kimjicheon is the first one to greet you. the place hasn't changed a bit since you last left. pictures hang on the walls, frozen moments of family history, and the decor is still the same mishmash of patterns and colors that only grandma could pull off. there's also those jars of shells sitting on the shelfs, she had kept all of them. huening and you used to scour the shore for the prettiest ones, just to see grandma's eyes light up when we handed them over.

"welcome home," kai says with a grin as you give him a nod of acknowledgment. "gran!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the house. "look who's here!"

from the kitchen, you catch sight of your grandma approaching, her arms wide open in a welcoming embrace. her smile, though as wide as ever, tugs at your heartstrings a bit as you notice how age has begun to take its toll, shrinking her form and bending her back. you should have visited more often.

"y/n!" she exclaims as she pulls you into a tight hug. "you must be exhausted from the trip. come in, come in. kai, get her bag upstairs."

kai grumbles under his breath but does as he's told. you shoot him an apologetic look, to which he responds with a mouthed "whatever."

your grandma guides you to the dining table and practically forces you you yo take a seat. she cups your face so tightly she could've pierced your cheeks. "you look so thin, y/n," she says, eyebrows furrowed. "your mother hasn't been giving you a hard time, has she? you know you don't need to listen to her..."

"it's alright, grandma," you reassure her. "i'm sure you'll fatten me up this summer."

she chuckles. "no doubt."

your grandma goes back to the kitchen after making it crystal clear she didn't need—or want—your help. she even implied that a murder might happen if you dared to interfere. meanwhile, kai rejoins you at the table after throwing in a cozier sweatshirt. it´s somewhat worn out and faded, so you recognise the pattern. one thing about kai is that he's always got that one beloved sweatshirt he's practically glued to. like he'd sooner part with a limb than toss it out. 

"hey gran, do you need a hand!?" he calls out as he settles into a chair.

"and risk my kitchen going up in flames? no thank you, kai," she fires back, earning a chuckle from him. you start to rise, with the intention of helping her, but her head pops out of the kitchen door. "and you, y/n, stay put. you've had a long trip, you need to rest. keep an eye on kai, make sure he doesn't wreak havoc."

kai shoots him a pleading glance. "okay," you assure him, "from now on i'm easing up on the teasing. you could definitely use some allies."

before kai even gets a chance to respond, your grandma swoops back in, balancing a tray of steaming rice bowls. she sets it down with a gentle clatter, her eyes stern as she addresses kai. "you ever wonder why they pick on you, kai?" she asks.

kai, caught off guard, raises an eyebrow. "hmm, i dunno. competitive market economy, possibly... there's natural selection, too." he quips.

"its because you're too sweet," grandma tells him.

"that's lovely, grandma. but could you maybe be nice to be in return?"

your grandma simply shakes her head, "absolutely not. tough love builds character. that's how i raised both your fathers."

"and what about y/n? she could use some character-building too!" kai protests, shooting you a playful look.

"y/n's had a long trip. she needs to rest."

kai lets out an exaggerated sigh, "unbelievable," but it's all in good fun as laughter fills the room.

you sit down through a lovely dinner with your grandma and huening kai, realizing how much you've missed them both. grandma had gone all out, whipping up all your favorite dishes just to give you the warmest welcome. eventually, she's the first to call it a night, but not before she showers you with a treasure trove of advice for your new part-time gig at the bookshop starting tomorrow. from the best route to get there to where to grab the perfect cup of coffee nearby, and even which customers to keep an eye on – especially those tourists, she cannot stand the tourists.

after she's tucked into bed, huening heads to the kitchen and pulls out a couple of bottles of soju. "alright," he says, with a grin, "time to do what we've gotta do. we never got to celebrate our coming of ages together, did we?"

"like we had planned," you let out a soft chuckle, the memories of little huening kai and you planning your 18th birthdays bringing a warm nostalgia to your heart.

you raise your glasses in unison, the clear liquid inside catching the light as you clink them together. you tip back the first shot, the familiar burn of the soju spreading warmth through your chest. only then to you decide to ask about him.

"kai-ah, i met a friend of yours... earlier today, on the train?"

"taehyun?" he asks.

"no... soobin." you say, and witness his expression become slightly more serious.

"right... and you talked or..."

"yeah, we did! and he was so nice, we really hit it off, i think." you say. "but then later, in the car, yunjin mentioned some things..."

kai looks at you with an expression you find unfamiliar in him. he's never that stern, that secretive. "of course she did... she's dying to know what happened that summer. and i promise it´s not that big a deal. but someone asked us to keep it secret, so we have to keep our word. if it was about me, I´d tell you. but it´s not. so just let it go." he says. and you nod, unable to find any words to say. huening pours a second shot into both your glasses. "don't let yunjin convince you it´s a big deal, because it´s not." he now smiles, becoming warmer, probably after noticing your shame for meddling where you shouldn't have.

you're intrigued, of course. how could you not be? but shot after shot, that tense conversation goes morphing into a mountain of jokes, increasingly stupid as you get drunker.

you can hold your liquor particularly well, so after a few shots, you feel perfectly sane. still, you decide to stop when huening begins to get dizzy. "i think... I'm gonna head to bed." he slurs out. "not because I'm feeling sick, I'm totally fine. i just wanna throw up in my own bathroom. good night."

"do you need any help?"

"nope."

"promise you'll drink water?"

"yup."

"sleep well then, huening-ah." you laugh as he exits the living room. you linger for a while and hear a blow coming from the stairs. "need help getting you your room?!" you shout.

"all good!" he yells back.

now that you're all alone, you check the time and realise that it´s not that late. you could go out for a walk. the night is warm, and you could enjoy some alone time with your hometown, but you're also a bit tired from the trip, as your grandma had very accurately been reminding everyone, and you kinda wanna stay at home as well.

how are you spending your night?

go take a walk. have some alone time with your hometown, go down to the beach, maybe reconnect with the natives...

stay home. indeed, you had a long trip and you need to rest. besides, huening and grandma are both asleep, someone needs to watch the fort in case there's visitors.

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush

[immawritethat]

Missed Connections

(Somewhat connected to this piece I half-wrote last year and have been thinking about since) Anyhow, this the workshop draft of a short story I wrote for class, and I just think it’s v neat and wanted to share!

----

Dolores Lopez spent much of her free time inside museums, but today she was here with a purpose. The building was much younger than many of its contents—an oblong Art Deco styled building, trimmed with golds and chevron and all those other lovely elegant things. The atrium stretched to the full height of the building, dwarfing all patrons as if to say “You are inferior in the grand scheme of history; there may be no one to tell your tale lest ye gain the wealth and notoriety seen here!”

Or perhaps Dolores was simply projecting.

The first time she’d visited this particular museum was in the second grade, back when she wore her dark brown hair in two simple plaits—well, until two of the boys in class decided a few months later it was a stroke of comic genius to cut one off with a pair of scissors during class—back when her complexion still held a rich, golden undertone to it instead of a sickly yellow tinge, and back before she had to squint through thick, round glasses that later had her teased for looking far too much like an owl. It was so long ago she couldn’t remember exactly what they had been there to study—maybe something about the Native Americans or Columbus or vaqueros, but that wasn’t what made an impact.

She remembered, once they had been given time to look about the museum freely, taking one glance at an old World War II nurse’s uniform from the travelling exhibit and bursting into tears. A grief she had never been introduced to flooded forth, having seen no death in her lifetime, and pulled her underneath its tide. Something had been sitting inside her, buried deep underneath everything she knew of herself. The chaperone overseeing her had ended up taking her outside to calm down, asking what had happened. She had never quite been able to explain it, and lied that her stomach hurt when pressed for an answer.

As she aged, Dolores noticed more and more of her life out of the ordinary.

There were the vivid dreams, showing flashes of lives both mundane and horrific. They varied in topic, but often continued on at some point or another, as though a new episode had finally aired. Sometimes there were flickering shadows of a cobblestone hearth, and other times the sparking battlefields on the edge of the Euphrates. The most common ones brought Dolores into a living room decorated with floral wallpaper, a gramophone playing a song she later discovered was Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again.” In some dreams, she sat with another girl, a few years older, playing with rag dolls whose threads unraveled and only just remained stitched together so they wouldn’t have to hear the wailing of an upset child. In others, they were older, seated beside the radio, listening to whatever the statesman had to say on the state of drought and war and the economy.

Sometimes she sat alone, patching up old skirts and trousers, with little more than the hum of the wind to bring her company.

Only now was she beginning to understand what those dreams meant.

“Dolly Lopez?” The silvery voice came from behind Dolores, along with a gentle tap on the shoulder, pulling her focus back to the present. She turned, and an aged tension lifted from her body. Remington Siegel stood half a foot taller than her, dressed in a rather interesting combination of neon prints which stood out even more against his dark skin, looking nothing like the person that she had missed, but feeling every bit the same.

Dolores swiped the tears from her face, clearing her throat to compose herself. “You kept me waiting,” she said.

“I never meant to.” Remy put his arms across her shoulders, pulling her into an awkward side-hug. “Should we sit somewhere? Or is there an exhibit you’re fond of?” He paused for a moment, face screwed up with thought. “You weren’t the one with a stamp collection, were you?”

Dolores scrunched her nose. “I don’t remember much, but I definitely don’t remember that.”

Remy only shrugged. “Another lifetime, then. It’s tough to keep them all separated, you know.”

Dolores’s gaze fell down to the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, stuffed with loose, crumpled papers on the verge of falling out. The weight of the binder in her arms seemed to double.

“Maybe the café?” He suggested, in hopes of breaking the silence. “It was a long flight from Newcastle, and I haven’t eaten much since—too busy trying to get a hold of myself.”

“Of course! Sorry, I got lost in my own head.” Dolores stepped to the side, gesturing forward. “Honestly, I’m just still a bit shocked you’re really here—five months of Twitter DMs and now? Bam! You’re just…here.”

“Well, that’s one of the many plusses of being the only grandchild of wealthy grandparents—they’re willing to spoil me at the drop of a hat. Well, that and I have spent far more time doing this.” He gestured his bag forward. “Maybe I’m not half as organized, but I’ve got it mostly-kinda-sorta figured out. Seeing me in action should help you out a lot.”

Dolores nodded, offering a soft mm-hm, but her eyes were clouded and far off. He hadn’t brought it up. She knew they had talked about it plenty through their messages, but it felt strange to not mention it. Wrong, even. But this was the third time he’d done this—he’d even approached her about it all. Maybe there was some taboo about it she was unaware of.

Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him.

She listened to Remy ramble on about his research methods preferred databases through the halls, around the line of the café, and even for the first few minutes seated at the table. She asked questions from time to time, but ones which were only half engaged—Oh really? How long did that take? How did you come up with that? She spent far more time shouting in her own head to get over her worries and ask something with more meaning.

“You’re dying to ask something.” It was a statement, rather than a question, delivered between a mouthful of muffin and a sip of tea. “The hesitant look in your eyes—go on, don’t be shy. I didn’t come all the way out here to buy five dollar muffins and be half-listened to.”

Dolores averted her gaze, focusing on the instead on a photo of an aged Victorian doctor, apparently one of Remy’s most notable memories, who looked up at her with a stern warning to mind her words carefully. She wiggled the straw in her tea aimlessly. “No, no, I’m alright!” She forced out a laugh, the way she had practiced on plenty of bad dates throughout plenty of lifetimes. “I’m just a little—”

“Look, Dolly—If you tell me you’re star-struck again, I’ll just have to ask you what’s wrong and that’s never a fun conversation.”

Dolores took in a short breath and sighed, deflating in her chair. “I was just…hoping maybe we could talk a little more about…” She pressed her lips together, failing to hold back her true thoughts. “Us? What we were, what we went through. I mean, God, it’s hard enough to find someone who remembers at all, let alone someone you shared that history with! Let’s talk about the fact that you were Betty and I was Judith and that we’re only seeing each other again now nearly eighty-goddamned-years later in two totally different bodies and from two totally different places!”

Ceramic clinked against the table. Dolores pulled her fist back towards her chest, face flushed from her outburst. She hadn’t meant to get that worked up, hadn’t meant to hit the table.

Remy leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs, and drew out a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, frowned, and then fixed his gaze back on Dolores. “You know that fun little saying War is hell? It’s not too far off.”

Dolores scooted her chair closer to the table, so that her belly pressed against the cool laminate. She hunched forward, so that he wouldn’t have to speak any louder than was required between the two of them.

“I try not to remember being Betty. I know you remember a lot of the good things, but you were the little sister. It was my job to make things seem fun and happy for you, even when Dad lost his job during the Depression and when the neighbors started getting shipped off left and right when the war started.” Remy paused. He suddenly found the particular soda stains on the floor particularly interesting, and focused his gaze there. “I know I signed up to be an Army Nurse because I was exhausted playing nanny for you. You were thirteen, I figured you’d be fine if I was gone for a bit. I could see the world, and meet some boys.”

He let out a whistle, low and long, like the groan of a dropped bomb. “Boy, oh boy did I meet plenty. You see things you couldn’t imagine happen to a human body treating a warzone. They kept me with diseases, mostly, not trauma.”

Dolores nodded. She knew how the story ended—Betty had contracted TB, died before the war even ended, and left her sister—had left her—without so much as a final goodbye.

Remy shrugged his shoulders, and returned to his previous position. “I’d love to say I remembered the good things, Dolly, but I’ve got all the ugly. Well, mostly.” He pulled an envelope from his bag, yellowed with time and creased with deep wrinkles. “I barely remember writing it, but I guess it was never posted. It was found in a box with some other nurse’s stuff, some old friend of mine—er, Betty’s—who’d passed, apparently.”

Dolores’s hands shook. It was so worn it had become soft, and the half-finished address was hardly legible at this point. “And it was definitely from…?”

Remy nodded. “It’s yours. Sorry it took so long to get here. But, hey, look at it this way: we got to say hello again instead of goodbye.”

Dolores’s lips quirked up into a smile. She left the envelope closed, and placed it inside her binder for later. She’d waited for it this long, anyway. “Hello is much nicer than goodbye, isn’t it?”

#my writing #original writing #speculative fiction #modern fantasy writing #tw death #tw disease #tw war mention

[shunkashuutou]

2020: ShuuKatsu, Spring Break, Corona, and FF7R

Hello everyone! Long time no update!

I meant to post something to say happy new year, but life just keeps getting busier and busier! So it’s time for some updates!

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- SHUUSHOKU KATSUDOU -

I’ll be heading into my final year of studies here soon, which means that it’s shuushoku katsudou (就職活動) season here. “Shuushoku katsudou” (often shortened to just “shuukatsu”) is basically job hunting, but unlike in America, it’s a very different process.

In America you can job hunt at any time of year, and it usually involves printing out (or even e-mailing) a copy of your resume, writing a cover letter, and sending in your application. However, if you’re a college student here in Japan, you have to secure a job BEFORE you graduate.

First of all, you have to write out your resume by hand on a specially-formatted paper that you get from your school, in pen with absolutely no mistakes and no white-out, each time you apply to a company. (Thankfully, being in the web industry, some of the places I’ve applied to are okay with you typing your information into their online form instead of having to hand-write a resume).

Here are some of my resumes in progress:

Once you have your beautifully written resume, you put on your very-dark-gray-but-not-pure-black suit (and 3 to 5 cm heels if you are female) and attend company setsumeikai (説明会), which are like information sessions in which the companies tell you about the work they do, their philosophy, etc. (I'm in a creative field so it doesn’t matter, but in marketing jobs or service industry jobs, you can’t have dyed hair or eyelash extensions, and you have to do a specific style of makeup) Then you turn in your hand-written resume, and if they’re interested, they’ll call you in for an interview. If you make it past the first interview, there’s usually a skills test or personality test (some of the personality tests I’ve taken have ridiculous questions, like “Do you get diarrhea often?”), a second interview, and then if you’ve made it past all of those steps and they still are interested in you, one final interview with an executive from the company. And you have to repeat this whole process for each company that you want to apply to. (Some of them also have group interviews, group work sessions, general skills tests that are like the SAT but in Japanese, etc as part of their hiring process)

And because of the very limited time period (usually from April to October of the year before you graduate) in which you can get recruited as a “newly graduating student” (新卒採用), if you miss this window and don’t get a job, some people pay to stay in college an additional year so they can try again the following year. In terms of the time frame, it’s almost more comparable to the American college search process than job hunting. And all of this happens while you’re still a student and still need to be attending classes and studying!

It’s quite different than job searching in America, so if anyone else you know in Japan says that they’re doing shuushoku katsudou, now you know what they’re going through!

And this year it’s especially tough due to the virus, since companies are having to move their info sessions and interviews online, delay them until things calm down, or are choosing not to recruit at all this year because the economy is unstable right now. 

Which brings us to our next topic:

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- CORONA -

Mabs and I doing okay here in Osaka! The virus started really spreading when we were already on spring break (so we were already staying at home most of the time) and the start of our new school year has gotten pushed back from the beginning of April to the middle of May. Thankfully our jobs were able to move things online so we’re working remotely now.

Japan finally announced at state of emergency a few weeks ago, but the government doesn’t have the authority to force people to stay home, or to force businesses to close, they can only “strongly suggest” it. So many people are still having to commute to work on the trains, and I don’t think Japan is doing enough, but it does sound like most people are starting to take things more seriously and stay home when possible.

Honestly my routine hasn’t changed all that much from my normal spring break routine. (Not stepping foot outside my apartment for like 5 days at a time isn’t uncommon at all) I stay at home almost all the time and only go grocery shopping once a week anyway, so aside from the stress of hearing the news, and having to work remotely, my daily life hasn’t changed too much. (My mom’s trip to Japan at the end of March got cancelled though, which was a real bummer, but I really hope I can have her come visit for the spring cherry blossom season someday once all of the corona stuff calms down!)

But even though school and shuushoku katsudou is temporarily on hold, I have been extremely busy lately getting ready for the...

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- DRAMA RELEASE -

So I briefly mentioned it in a previous post, but last summer I had the opportunity to act as the main character in a new digital drama series!

The director and producer are currently making the last edits to the three pilot episodes, and they’ll be released on YouTube soon!

Here’s the official trailer! (※Warning for language. And I’m sure that those of you who know me in real life will be quite surprised; this character’s personality is like the opposite of mine, lol. But that’s what acting is all about!)

Be sure to subscribe to the official channel on YouTube so you won’t miss the episodes when they come out!

I also had the opportunity to design and code the official website for the series! Go check it out here to start getting to know the story and characters!

I’ll be sure to post more about it when the episodes get released on YouTube, which should be soon!

I also finally made use of my acting salary and bought myself a PS4 and...

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- FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE -

I started writing up this section of the post, but it got too long because I have a lot to say about this wonderful game, so for now here’s a photo of Mabs and I enjoying some milkshakes before playing the game! (These pudding-flavored milkshakes from McDonalds were amazing!)

We are having a blast playing FF7R! Mabs never played the original FF7 so I’m glad we can play the remake together, and it’s been fun to see her reactions to it! I’m really happy that she’s enjoying it too!

So expect a post about FF7R in the near future! (I promise it won’t be to long before I post again this time!)

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I hope you all are staying safe and healthy during this crazy time in the world! Wash your hands, wear a mask when you must go out, STAY HOME, and definitely play FF7R if you have a PS4!

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#blogging #japan #life in japan #osaka #shuushoku katsudou #ff7r #april 2020 #2020