#Arguing over “authenticity” of local foods

[heymeowmao]

2023.09.02 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321324941623929995754

Long time no see~

bgm: 我只愿朝着光 (I Only Wish to Face the Light) [Be Your Own Light OST]

LYN: Long time no see, friends. Long time no see.

C: Are you better now? LYN: I’m much better. As a man, to get sick a little is normal. There’s nothing  to ask about. Thanks, everyone. LYN: My throat is still a little uncomfortable. It’s not as easy, but I still thought I would come to stream for a bit… because I brought all this equipment with me but I haven’t used it once. When we were packing up to leave I remembered that I brought my streaming equipment. If I don’t use it now I’ll feel like I’d have packed it up for nothing. I wrapped up a little early today and even though I’m not in the greatest condition I thought I’d stream. You can all be a little more understanding.

C: So you were in Chongqing. LYN: You must not be my fan. You’re one of the ones who pretends to care a lot about me. I’ve been in Chongqing for a long time already. It’s been more than half a month. C: You’ve gotten thinner. LYN: I don’t know about that. I probably just look a lot more weary/haggard. After I got sick I haven’t had an appetite, so I’ve been eating less and look haggard. I haven’t gotten thinner, though. LYN: I haven’t been in the greatest condition, but when I go back I don’t know when I’ll have the time to stream so today I wrapped up early and I feel good enough to chat, so I came. I didn’t come for a particular reason. Just to chat.  C: Remember to rest. LYN: It’s alright. I don’t have too many scenes for this drama and we’re not in a rush to film. I’ve been able to rest up for a couple of days here in Chongqing. It’s not extremely busy, so I’ve been able to take breaks in between.

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C: Your physical. LYN: I’ve done it already. I did it back in Beijing. All the results are pretty good. I don’t have any problems, so my physical is done. The only problem is that I might have a slight calcium deficiency (?). It’s fine though- I just have to supplement it. I guess that explains why I broke my foot- I have a calcium deficiency for my bones are more easily broken. I’ve got some health supplements and I’m ready to boost my calcium. Everything else is normal. C: Have you gotten taller? LYN: Funny that you mention it. I really did. They measured my height and I curiously found out that I’m taller than I was before! It might be that I keep trying to fix my posture, so my back is a bit straighter than it was before and it helped my height a tiny bit. C: Growth spurt? LYN: Probably not. Ning-ge’s already 30+ years old. I can’t be having any more growth spurts. It’s probably that my back’s straighter so my height grew. There’s nothing more to say about this. It’s not like I can lie. Before, as an actor, maybe if you were tall it would be hard to find roles, but times are changing. There’s a market for people like me who look like telephone poles, now. I’m not worried about not finding a role because I’m too tall. If you’re tall, when you shoot guzhuang dramas you can look a little more dazzling. There’s nothing to hide. LYN: I used to say I was 1.89m, right? In reality after measuring I was 188.5cm, so I liked to say I was 1.89m. After getting my physical this time I found that I’ve surpassed 1.9m. C: So tall. LYN: It’s no use, though. Telephone poles are also very tall- what’s the point of them? There’s no point to being tall. Tall isn’t useful. C: Exactly how tall- 1.9__?? LYN: What does that have to do with you? What does it matter how tall I am? As if I can share some height with you?? Why do you care? Are you a medical examiner? Or are you a tailor? You want to use my measurements to make a pair of pants or…??? What do you care how tall I am?! I already said I was 1.9. Why do you have to wonder whether it’s 1.91, 1.94, or 1.95? You’re like a tailor. Are you going to make clothes for me??

C: Ning-ge, if you boost your calcium maybe you can grow even taller. LYN: Don’t scare me!! I already have a hard time buying pants. I don’t need height, but it’d be nice if I can gain some bone density. C: I’m afraid you’ll grow to be 2m tall. LYN: Shush. I’m already 30+ years old, how can I still grow taller?? I’m not getting any taller, don’t hold your breath. If you tell your neighbors or friends that “I hope your kid grows tall” it would be a blessing, but if you tell me “I hope you grow taller” then it’s a curse. I don’t want to be too tall. It’s enough. I have enough to get by.

C: I hope my son can be as tall as you are. LYN: It’s possible. Kids nowadays are growing quite tall. None of them are very short anymore. It’s a different era, now. They’re well-fed. How balanced are their diets, now? There’s only the one at home, and they can eat all they want, so of course they will not be lacking in nutrition. Friends, you don’t need to worry about your child not growing tall. Unless you want your kid to be a celebrity. Then, they can be tall. Or a basketball player or model. But normally, they don’t need to be so tall. 

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LYN: I saw a comment the other day- because I went to the Eastern Billboard Awards, right? There are people who go to the event and then later come back and write about their experience. Whenever people go somewhere they have to come back and write up a report- what do they call it “repeat” or something. [t/n: REVIEW??] Anyway, they have to share their feelings about their experience. Their opinion of me? That my fans tend to be on the older side. That made me angry. (/joking) What do they mean by that?!? LYN: I guess a lot of my fans went by winning a lottery or blind box and being gifted tickets to attend. After going the only descriptor other people could think to give them is “on the older side.” What do you mean by that?? I just want to ask. LYN: My fans are… those who like LYN are all mature women. /laughs/ Isn’t that right? They’re all very mature. Whether by age or by mentality- they’re all mature. But I do have young ones! The other time in my stream didn’t you say that some of you were in your teens? I have younger fans, too. My fans are from a wide range. Sometimes I’m more biased towards the older ones because- I’ve said it many times before- they seen it all. Their children are already grown and they’ve seen what the world has to offer. To be able to still like me, after all that, means that I’m just a little outstanding. I can attract their attention. It’s not just a heat of the moment thing, for them.

LYN: Most of my fans all have children. Some of them are old enough to be attending college! They have school aged children, but are still my fans and I think that’s great. Now I want to say something to my fans who have children- try not to make your kids give me things, alright? I’m sure you’re not getting anything out of it, because you probably also tell your children, “Ning-jiujiu is outstanding. When you grow up you have to be as tall as he is.” and etc. I’m sure you must have told them about me before and so they are receptive to me. But still, try not to make them give me things. I’m not accepting any gifts. Let me tell you why-

LYN: You all came out to support me that one time, right? And I went out to see you. I don’t know who it was but one of my fans passed over a huge bag. They knew that I like to take some things with me when I walk by. So they prepared a big bag for me- it was really convenient. The first thing they did was hand that bag over, as if telling me “Ning-ge, go ahead and fill it up.” I could put all my spoils into it, because my fans like to give me cards or small toys. It has nothing to do with the cost. It’s just meaningful- they wanted to leave me with a souvenir. I was taking letters, cards, and headbands and stuffing them into the bag… and I was recorded doing it. Someone posted it online with the header, “LYN takes a tote bag to receive fan gifts.” Then the media got started on it- saying that I brought my own bag just so I can take your gifts. Amazing. LYN: First of all, I didnt want to become an artist just so that I could receive your small gifts and cards. Do you think I’m lacking that much?? But once someone’s pointed it out, it sounds really despicable. As if I can’t afford to make a living for myself so I have to rely on you to support me. That I survive off the things you give me. That’s a miserable existence, isn’t it? So from then on, I’ve been telling you that I don’t accept any gifts from my fans. This way it will be more difficult to hold something against me, you know? It will be harder for them to criticize me, not like it’s necessary to in the first place. I’ll only be accepting letters from now on. Whether I look at them or not is another story, but I will accept them.

LYN: I won’t be accepting gifts from you anymore- even if it’s very small and not worth anything. I won’t take it. It’s the thought that counts- you can keep it for me. If you have a kid, though, they might not understand this concept. They just know that “It would be nice if I can give Ning-jiujiu something.” So you prepare something that your child can give to me. In regards to gifts from children- I wouldn’t normally accept those, either. But the thing is I don’t want to see them disappointed. If they want to give me something and I tell them no, they’re going to be upset. What if it becomes some sort of trauma for them? You know? I know it’s not my kid, but it’s yours so you SHOULD feel bad for them. LYN: So, don’t make them do this. If your kid wants to give me something you have to advise them against it. Just tell them that I don’t need it. Tell them that Ning-jiujiu is a wealthy second-gen kid and that I don’t need it. Tell them that I have a job and I can buy things for myself, so when THEY grow up they have to get a job so they can buy themselves food and toys. Anyway, don’t let your kid give me anything. I really don’t have the heart to not accept. I know it’s just a very small thing- a toy- but when someone gets it on film that I’m accepting gifts- even from your kids- it become problematic. Try to empathize. Try to advise your kid not to give me anything- let them keep it.

C: Ning-ge, you’re a rich first gen, not a second gen. LYN: If I give all my money to my mom, then that’ll make me a rich second gen wouldn’t it? Makes sense, doesn’t it?

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LYN: Another thing is, I think my relationship with my fans is different. I feel like I’m… investing a different set of emotions in you. I’m not trying to be polite or anything. I’m just sure that there are very few people who can be like me- who treat my fans with a certain degree of attentiveness, or companionship. I feel like I’m close to my fans, and they respect me. I like this mutually respectful environment. But when you start disrespecting me, I feel really hurt by it. LYN: I feel like I give you a lot of respect and I’ve given you the most companionship that I could. But sometimes… when I see that some fans are out of line I get really disappointed, you know? I feel bad. Not angry, just bad. Just like how when antis try to bring me down- I would never be angry at them. Or when media talks shit about me- I don’t particularly care. But if it’s someone close to me who says the same things, I would find it difficult to bear. 

LYN: I’ve been filming recently in Chongqing, right? Many of you come out to the set to… watch a monkey (see me). I’m the monkey- the other actors aren’t. Every day I’m filming in Chongqing I feel more and more like a performer monkey. You’re just surrounding me- as if watching a monkey in a cage. It’s not like I’m out there to shop. I’m there to act, and there are just people all around, watching a show. Sometimes you even give me a little something to eat. It’s not that I’m annoyed by it- that’s your freedom to do what you want. In this society you can go wherever and do whatever, as long as you are abiding by the law. I don’t have the energy to care about your personal freedom- you can go where you want, *as long as it doesn’t affect me or the film crew. That’s the most important thing. You can watch from afar, but don’t record it on your phone. Everywhere I go, you’re following me with your phones. I don’t even know what you’re trying to do, here. LYN: I had even asked you, the last time. I don’t want to interrupt your quest to see your idol. You can come out to see me, and that’s fine. But why do you insist on recording it on your phone?? Do you want to become viral? You want to learn from me how to be internet famous? Are you going to post it on your weibo and wait until you gain enough fans before you start influencer marketing? After you have enough traffic, are you planning on accepting advertising gigs, or…?? I just don’t get it. Why do you have to record me? If you come to see me I can nod my head at you, smile at you, and even exchange a few words. But the moment you lift up that phone I’m not going to say a word to you. I had told you all before. When you’re trying to greet me, don’t record me on your phone. I feel like you’re trying to interview me. LYN: That day there was someone like this, “Welcome to Chongqing, Ning-ge. Welcome to Chongqing. I want to ask you- have you eaten Chongqing hotpot yet?” I felt as if they were a native blogger or something. They were here to promote Chongqing’s culinary delicacies and they came to interview me, to get the thoughts of an actor who came to Chongqing to film. It makes me really uncomfortable. If you could put your phone down and ask me the same questions, I would have told you that “Yes, I did eat.” and what I ate, and what I thought about it. I would chat with you. But as soon as you pick up your phone I feel like there’s a distance between us and I don’t want to say anything to you. LYN: The people on set, too. You’ll find that as long as you’re not brandishing your phones at me, I won’t open the umbrella (to block your sight). I can’t NOT let you see, but if you take photos/videos of me while I am working on the drama and then go post that media online and it affects the drama itself- that’s on me. You can come to see me. As long as you’re not brandishing your phone, I won’t try to reject you. You just have to record- I don’t know why.

LYN: I also posted to the group chat- if you’re on set, please don’t record. All of you agreed. But the next day? You were recording as normal. I saw with my own eyes- someone lift up their phone to start recording. OK. If you’re not going to listen to me, then it doesn’t matter. When I got off work that day, that person even greeted me! “Ning-ge, you worked hard. Ning-ge! Hey-” As if you’re very close to me?? You don’t even listen to me. LYN: I already told you, that you can’t be recording me while I’m filming this drama. There’s a reason for that, but I can’t tell you the details of why. I just can’t have the drama be affected because of me, but you are still stubborn enough not to understand what I’m trying to say. I can’t tell you flat out, either. I’ve told you not to record me, but you still do it. Let’s not drag passersby into the picture- there’s nothing I can do about them. But MY FANS- If even if I tell you, you still don’t listen then there’s no point. LYN: To my other friends- if you’re not in Chongqing, don’t come here to attack those fans that are here. There’s no need. They acting normal, and I can understand, but I just want to say-

C: Are they paparazzi? LYN: If they were, I could just tell the security to tell them to stop. But I know that you are my fans, so it’s not like I could tell them to help me get MY FANS under control for me. Do you think I could do that? I don’t know- I haven’t filmed very many modern dramas so I haven’t encountered this situation much before. This time, since I’m facing the situation now I want to say: If I’m shooting a modern drama you can come to watch but please don’t record. You can keep me company or watch for fun. Don’t make trouble for me, please. Thanks. I’m not the only actor in this group. The other actors are under a lot of pressure already and are too kind to say anything about it to me. I’m sure that they would find it embarrassing on my behalf to tell me how to manage my fans. But as LYN- as an actor- do you think I’m not aware of the situation?? Just because they don’t say anything doesn’t mean that I can let it continue. LYN: YOU’RE happy recording on your phones, but have you ever thought of how awkward it is for ME? It’s so embarrassing. Whenever I get to the crew in the morning someone always asks me, “Hey, are those your fans? There are so many.” … How am I supposed to answer that? Am I supposed to say, “Yes, I’m very popular! I’m amazing!” How do I answer, you tell me. I just say, “Those aren’t my fans. They’re probably just passersby.” LYN: I can’t control your how you chose to spend your time but please don’t affect the drama crew. I’m not angry! I just haven’t encountered this situation before, so I want to get it straight now. I hope that in the future my fans can supervise each other. If you all come together I hope that someone can say, “Let’s not record Ning-ge. Let’s not affect the drama crew.” We can play amongst ourselves but once it starts to influence other people, we’ve got to stop. I can’t wave or greet you when I’m on set because I don’t want the other actors to think I’m trying to show off that I have a lot of fans. Everyone is there to work but it looks like I am there to socialize and have a mini fan-meet?? Do you get it? This is a working environment- I’m WORKING. I can’t be friendy with you because if iit gets recorded and posted it will look like I am encouraging you to come to set and see me. I can’t afford that. Do you understand? The crew isn’t made up of only me. Everyone else is famous in their own right. Just because they’re not mentioning it to me doesn’t mean that I’m not aware of what’s being perceived. Try to understand my hardship. 

LYN: You have to consider other people’s feelings. I care. I could disregard my own feelings, but not other people’s. After working with them for a while, I start to care about every person I work with. I cherish the opportunity to be able to work with them. I’ve got to leave a good impression, right? My main thing is having a good reputation, isn’t it?

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LYN: I do have to thank you for your support when I had collaborations with Pomellato and L’Oreal, though. Thank you. When it was first announced that I has a collaboration with Pomellato- it really proved that some of you have mines at home (they’re wealthy). We really do have some “jiejie-s” among my fans. We never avoid this subject. I already told you last time- when you come to my concert, bring the deed to your house. Because I also invite different brand representatives to attend, so if they that all my fans have their deeds with them, they would know that you can afford to buy their products. Then the collaborations will come rolling in, wouldn’t they? Some of you are... well off. LYN: At the time I saw that you were posting your receipts and everything- those things aren’t cheap. From my… position.. to have so many fans support me and spend so much, I am really thankful. I posted in the group chat to thank you, too. But many of you are students and probably can’t afford it- we’re all the same. But the ones who could afford to supported me a lot- I posted in the group chat. “Thank you for your support. Thank you to all the wealthy women. You sure have money.” I just wanted to express my thanks. I was over here trying to THANK YOU, and someone took a screenshot and posted it so I received another round of criticism. LYN: Someone had sent it to me, “Ning-ge, look. Another yxh posted about it- that you’re thanking your wealthy fans in the group chat.” I was thinking- I can’t even do that?!? My fans are supporting my collaborations and are buying some products, and I want to thank them, but I can’t even do that?? Would the value drop, or what? I don’t understand. Should I NOT have thanked them? I don’t understand why I would be criticized for such a thing.LYN: Let’s say for example I see one of my fans by a product from a brand I’ve collaborated with. They tell me, “Ning-ge, I bought it!” Am I supposed to say, “Oh. Suit yourself.”?? Should I have had that sort of attitude? If someone tells me they bought something from a collab I did, shouldn’t I be thanking them for their support? One, it represents that fan’s love for me and two, I should thank them on behalf of the brand. I just don’t get it! When they told me I was being criticized for thanking my fans I just found it really funny. LYN: Any artist or actor- anything they do falls under the “customer service” category. We’re here to serve the viewers and our fans. Without all of you, what would we be? Do you really consider that we’re people who can survive on talent alone? This is too funny. We work in customer service.

C: Ning-ge, if you’re a waiter, then let me give you some tips. LYN: No, I don’t need any. XD You’re trying to give me tips now?? It would have been great if I had met you back when I was singing in the bar. LYN: Some people are laughing. Don’t laugh. I think that people who want to give tips are really great. Why? Maybe because I came from that industry- honestly if you want to survive in customer service, you can’t do it on your base pay alone. You have to rely on tips- so that you can make a little more money. From then on, I’ve always thought that people who give tips are great. C: I’ll give you 50. // How’s 1,000? LYN: No, no. I don’t need it, really. You can keep it. C: I’ll give you coupons. LYN: Do you give coupons as a tip?? Is there some hotpot place where if you spend 300, they give you 30 in coupons? Then you give it back to a waiter and tell them you’ll treat them to hotpot? That’s too awful, isn’t it? Later we find out that you have stock in the hotpot place. You were actually out there promoting, but making it look like you were giving tips.

C: I’ll give you a discount coupon to LYN’s concert. LYN: I said once before, that anyone who helped me to get a trending topic can get a 5RMB coupon to apply to my concert ticket. Now you want to give that coupon back to me?? First of all, it’s free for ME to watch LYN’s concert. Even if you gave it to me I would have no use for it. I can go for free. AND I can stand on the stage to watch it. XD My seats are better than yours. C: Your seat is the best. LYN: Yeah, I can watch from the middle of the stage.

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C: Ning-ge, have you been playing with the beads lately? LYN: I have. C: Do you put oil on them? LYN: I can’t believe you’re asking me about this! C: How’s it going though? LYN: The more you play with them, the more into it you get. It’s a pit. The more into it you get, the deeper you go. I’m playing with baixiangzi, which are different from the [names different types]. They’re different because each seed shape is not the same (whereas the other types are set shapes). Some are “lotus shaped”, or “ghost faced”, or deeply pitted, and etc. It’s a lot more complicated. Once you buy one strand you’ll want to buy others to see what they look like. And then… you just keep buying other ones and end up with too many. LYN: I don’t advise you to start… I just don’t. There are funner things to do. With me, I bought them online but then when I got them in hand I didn’t like them anymore and gave them away. To everyone around me- my acting coach, hair and makeup team, assistant, and everyone else in my group. Now they all have one strand each. When we go out to work everyone in the car- other than the driver- all have gloves on and are brushing the beads. Our team is so healthy, now. We’re a team of Bead Counters. There’s just no helping it- I bought it but after I received it I didn’t like it anymore so I gave it away, and repeat. By now I’ve already sent a bunch out. I don’t have anyone to give them to anymore. Another thing- this was a while ago because I’ve bought enough- let’s say if you can count on one strand for three years, I have enough to last me until I’m 80. I have too many, a huge bag with so many different types. 

LYN: I was watching a stream- the owner sells these things- and saw something funny. This was before I stopped, because I like to look for nice ones to buy. But I was in the stream and found someone trying to buy them. [...] I saw this user’s name and it was “LYN’s ____”. ? I’m guessing this “LYN” means “Liu Yuning”, right? Is this one of my fans, seeing that I’m starting to play with these things and wanting to buy one for themselves? But it just so happened that I was also in that stream! So I asked them, “Hello, hello! What does “LYN” mean?” They ignored me! It’s not like I could say that /I/ am LYN. But I kept asking and they just kepy ignoring me. It’s not like there were that many people in the stream, either. So then I switched tactics and started using code: “LYN… is it Jiang-ge?” Jiang Junhao (BYOL). After a bit they replied, “Yes. It’s Jiang-ge.” Oh before that, after asking them multiple times who LYN was they replied. “LYN is a very important person.” Then I asked them if it was Jiang-ge and they said, “LYN is Jiang-ge.” I was thinking,”Oh. This IS my fan.” So I was just quietly watching them throughout the stream and in the end they picked a strand that they liked. I direct messaged the seller and told them to return the user’s money, and that I would pay the bill for their order. The store owner was confused. I told them, “It’s ok. This “LYN” person is my friend. Please return their money and I will pay. You just need to send it to their address.” The shop owner said, “OK, da-ge.” What that means is Ning-ge bought you a strand of beads. You have to remember that. LYN: But then later the shop owner got back to me about another part of the order, and at that point I excused myself from the chat. The strands are cheap, but the accessories are expensive. I excused myself- I think it was about enough. LYN: It was just a fateful encounter with a fan, was all. I saw that they were buying something they liked and wanted to help out. This is normal, for a Northeasterner’s personality. For example if we go to a restaurant and see that a friend is already eating there, it’s either they will pay my bill or I will pay theirs. I don’t know about other places but in Dongbei that’s what we do. I just have a strange little habit of liking to pay other people’s bills. It just so happened we were shopping in the same stream that day. I saw a friend, so I paid their bill. C: Shandong people are like this too!

LYN: Yeah- places with a lot of loyalty are probably all like this. It’s a normal thing. I didn’t think anything of it, and it’s been a while since it happened. I never mentioned it before because I just thought it was funny, but since we were on the topic I decided to tell you. I’m just afraid that this person would remember which stream it was and then post about it.

LYN: I’ve already stopped buying them, I have enough. I don’t want to show you- it’s a really big bag. In any case, it’s fun to play with when I’ve got free time and it’s stress-relieving. Sometimes at night when I’ve wrapped for the day I like to play with them when I am remembering my next lines. When you play with these beads you won’t even find yourself reaching for your phone anymore. Let’s say usually in the car or something you’ll swipe through videos or play a game. Since I’ve started, I don’t play on my phone anymore. I’m just brushing and counting them. It makes you stop playing on your phone, which is nice. It also helps you to still your mind and relieve stress, which is also nice. C: “wan-wu-shang-zhi” (when you start to play with object, it will hurt your intelligence) [??] LYN: Yes, right. But I also think that as long as you’re not going overboard it’s fine. As long as it can still help you relieve stress and unhappiness, then it doesn’t count as “wan-wu-shang-zhi”. C: Raffle them off. LYN: I won’t because some of them were quite expensive… Maybe later, if there’s a chance I’ll raffle them. On my birthday I’ll give one away. One that costs 150RMB.

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C: Where’s Daimi? LYN: She’s waiting for me in Hengdian. I need to film for a while in Chongqing, but this hotel does not allow pets. It’s a little troublesome if I go through the trouble of bringing her here but not be able to house her. She’s in Hengdian. We’re just about to move over there, too. So she’ll show up then.

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C: Pie in the sky +1 LYN: Wha- how could giving away a strand of beads count?! Oh my gosh… What “pie” is this? I have plenty of beads to go around. 

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C: I miss Daimi. LYN: Okay, then when I get back I’ll let you see her. /distracted/ LYN: I’m looking at the tv- there’s a burger on screen and I really want to eat it… Sichuan spicy, CP burger. Mouth-watering chicken flavored. … It looks pretty good.

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LYN: I saw that some people were making fun of my brand collabs? Well it’s not considered “making fun of”... they were just commenting. Regarding collabs... I can’t say I’m not like other artists, just that I am the same as myself. (?) I have a good mentality I don’t really like accepting brand deals. That’s the truth. Because I don’t like shooting the ads. So I only accept the ones that I can. I don’t like to do very many per year. Another thing is- let’s say that this year I have signed with a shampoo brand. When that contract expires in a year and a different brand of shampoo comes to ask for me, I won’t accept their contract. I think this is being responsible towards my fans and towards the brand I previously worked with. I don’t accept just anything. I’m not saying this for the public to hear; this is for my fans to hear. Don’t assume that I am at such a low that I can’t get any brand deals. That’s unlikely. C: Professional. LYN: It isn’t being professional, either. I just feel like it’s not a right thing to do. There are many ways to make money, but you have to have morals. I won’t enter into a similar contract right after one has ended. Maybe I’ll wait a year in between, but not directly one after another. That’s not a good look, I feel. LYN: As an artist, when you sign a brand deal all your fans will go furiously support that brand. After they’ve bought from one brand, you want to sign with another and make them buy more products from the new brand, too? What- what are you trying to do here?? I don’t want to do that to you. I would find something different to collab with- something you can use, something practical. You all know which brands I’ve worked with. I would never sign with something you’ve never heard of.

LYN: There are some things- I just want to share. You all know I really like cars, right? There have been some car brands that have looked for me to collab with. I have not accepted. Why? Because I look down on the brands? No. I like cars too much, I can’t sign a deal with any one brand. Everyone already knows the car I like the most is Ferrari. I’ve already set that as my dream carl, so if you want me to also sign a contract with a different brand I don’t think I would be able to take it. It would make it seem like my dream car changed. No, that’s not right. C: Ning-ge, did Ferrari come find you? LYN: Of course not! Why would they? Who am I??

LYN: Anyways, I just have these strange sort of ways of thinking. I want to tell my fans- if you think that I am not signing enough brand deals- that’s not the case. If I WANTED to I could have a lot more, but I don’t want to so that’s why I have so little. Another thing is I know that I’m not popular enough. I’m not popular enough yet, but there are only so many different brands. I was thinking I would wait until I get a little more popular and THEN sign contracts with these brands- that would increase my value, wouldn’t it? Do you get that logic? If I were in a rush to make money and sign with every brand that comes now but then later get even MORE popular- no one would want to work with me, because they already have. Let’s develop some more before I start signing deals, and that way I could make a better profit. XD

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LYN: It’s been a while since I came to chat with you, and I was planning to chat and talk nonsense and mess with you a little bit. It’s very relaxing, and it’s been a while since I’ve come to chat. Even if I feel a little worse for wear today, I still wanted to come. :) C: Lao-da, what are you doing tomorrow? LYN: What’s it to you? Why do I have to tell you what I’m doing tomorrow? You’re overreaching.

C: Is recording for the album all finished? LYN: It’s finished. Rather- all the songs I have until now are finished. I’m still lacking four songs. Four songs. /sigh/ It’s maddening. I’m still looking for songs. The first half are all done and in production, but I’m still missing four. I have to see how I’ll handle that. Since I’m in a crew now I’m focusing on my acting, but I’m still looking for songs. C: Wasn’t it three? LYN: It was three, but then after some consideration I kicked Fall in Love off the album. It was supposed to be the first song on the album, but after that track it was hard to find other songs. Now it’s been so long since Fall in Love was released; it’s been two years. If I kept it in my album as was planned I don’t think it would be interesting. LYN: It’s still a very nice song, so that’s why it was released as a single. I just can’t put it in the new album because it’s been too long already. I can’t explain it away anymore.

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LYN: I’ve been working on my new drama- it seems that a lot of people, my fans especially, have lots to say about my appearance. As if you’re very disappointed in my look. I saw your comments and was really sad. Because the thing is, first of all, trying out this hairstyle is already putting a lot of pressure on me. You’ve all seen the short hair by now- there are reuters everwhere. Short hair requires high demand from your five features and face shape. Secondly, your condition when filming is very important. As an actor, there’s no way that your condition is going to be the exact same every day. Some days you might be tired and you look swollen the next day. Or if you stay up too late at night, your eye sockets look really deep. It differs, but your condition is really critical for how you look on film. If you have longer hair, you can use the bangs or ends to cover up the face a little bit, but with short hair that’s not possible. So I was already apprehensive when taking on this short-hair challenge. [t/n: nooo he’s cute. Look at this bts vid: https://weibo.com/1856222553/Ngo7kE49Z ]

LYN: After some ugly photos of the look were released online after the first day of shooting my fans were already having a breakdown. So much so that they starting cursing. Cursing out the drama crew and the production company. You’re making me look bad! I’m a very strong person, but in the face of suh a big challenge I had a lot of pressure myself. Add to that my fans, starting to cause trouble? I was thinking, “These people must be crazy.” You’re making me look bad, but I also understand- you just… don’t get it. LYN: You don’t understand the process for the drama crew. With all of my guzhuang dramas and my more modern ones- you didn’t really have awareness before, because frankly back then I was just in supporting roles. Your demands of me weren’t as high, then. You were probably thinking it was nice that I got to shoot dramas at all. You didn’t care about my hair or wardrobe- it wasn’t important as long as I was in the drama. But after I started getting lead roles, you started to get spoiled. You started making demands of my hair and wardrobe. It’s gotten to your heads. I didn’t drift, but you’ve started to!

LYN: If you think about it, when I was playing all those supporting roles I didn’t hear any of you comment on my hair or nitpick on what could be changed. You never did, before. Did you really think I looked very good in those roles? I don’t think so- there were also ugly ones. There were a bunch of times LMX was looking ugly. So… you’ve also drifted. I’m not trying to teach you a lesson or brainwash you- but I don’t have an agency. I only have my studio, and my team consists of the same small group of people. Every post you see my studio account make- is made after all of us discuss what should be posted. I am the boss. We don’t have different groups for management, finance, and promotion. It’s all the same small group doing all of this. When you’re cursing out my studio, it’s no different from cursing at me. I don’t want you to learn the bad habits from this industry, which is that fans like to yell at the studio, the hair/makeup group, the crew, the production, etc. It’s a bad practice and you shouldn’t do this. Don’t think that by yelling at these groups you’ll make it seem as if you know what you’re doingl. That’s not the case. Me, LYN Studio, and fans of LYN are all a big family. Let’s not play these underhanded tricks, okay? Let’s learn some good things. Don’t just take away the bad things.

C: They’re all getting paid but not producing good work. LYN: What if I told you that my studio doesn’t get paid, how would you reply to me then? It’s not about getting paid or not. Some things are not achieved just by simply opening or closing your mouth. I understand your passion and good intent but there is one thing that I am confident in. That is: there are experts to do expert things. Do you understand? For example, if I go to some event to sing- the venue is full of technicians. You’ll see a lot of performers on stage: [/starts describing a situation where he attends an event and the performer has high demands (down to the decibel) of the sound system]. I understand that they have high-demands and admire them for it. But I don’t understand as much as those singers, so that’s why I bring a technician with me. Why? Because they’ve been at this job for 20+ years, so they would know a lot better than me, a singer of just 4-5 years. They could be 40 years old this year, and have spent the last thirty years doing this exact thing. What have you been doing? Going on variety shows, shooting ads, etc. Do you think you’re more professional than these experts? Hire experts to do expert things. There’s no way someone outside of the industry would be more professional than they are. Do you get this logic?

LYN: This applies to the fans, as well. When you tell me my acting or singing needs work, do you think I don’t know that?? You don’t need to think about the reasoning why- all you know is that it looks bad. You don’t understand WHY it looks that way. Do you think I don’t know? You understand acting better than I do?? I mean, it’s possible that you do. But do you get what I’m trying to say? The things you see- we’ve already seen, but there’s a reason why it is the way it is. I know the fans mean well when they start being critical, but they just don’t understand the reasoning. You don’t need to worry. When you encounter this problem in the future, too. Don’t worry. I would know if it’s a problem better than you would. We just don’t fix it because the problem is 1) part of the process or 2) has a reason. LYN: When I bring a technician to an event, I’m not picky. I leave it up to them how they want to adjust the sound settings. However they feel is the most comfortable. At the most I will ask them to turn down the volume of my mic input, and set the accompaniment to something I am comfortable hearing. Everything else is up to them to decide and it’s all set. Leave it to the pros.

LYN: I started getting angrier as I talked about it. Why didn’t you care this much about my appearance when I was doing support roles?? You should have said something a long time ago! Then at least I wouldn’t have looked so ugly in my past dramas. XD /laughs at himself/ How can I blame others for that? C: Then, we should have “drifted” earlier. LYN: No, that’s not what I mean. Don’t think of things in such extremes, ok?

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-- break #1

C: I could already recite these videos. LYN: Then recite them for me! Why don’t I believe you? If you remember it, then prove it. C: What are you eating? LYN: A lozenge.

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LYN: I noticed something- in the recent year- there really has been a batch of new fans. I always thought- /setting up bgm/ I always thought that I hadn’t gained a new fan in a long time. I thought that was normal, because I don’t have very many new works to show you. But what I didn’t know was that there are a lot of you who came in silence to support me, and you all came in the past year or so. LYN: /burps/ Oh? Why did my throat make that sound? Sorry, sorry. /drinks some water/ /burps again/ LYN: The mood’s broken. :p

LYN: Anyway- I always thought that I didn’t gain any fans in the past year, because I really don’t have anything to show. The most recent thing was ALZ and BYOL, but before that I didn’t really have anything. But then I discovered that I actually did gain fans! I didn’t find out through my weibo statistics; I found out in a very obvious way. The new batch of fans are calling me “lao gong” (husband). I’ve already taught my old fans better. My fans aren’t allowed to call me “lao gong”- it seems too shallow. It makes our relationship shallow. First, what are you calling me husband for when you already have your own?? [t/n: since most fans are older and already married.] Secondly, you’re going to have a boyfriend at some point in your life. It’s not good to call me “husband”, then. I’m not worth it and you really don’t need to. Don’t call me that. LYN: Let’s not be like everyone else- because they like to call their idols “husband” too. Let’s not do the same. What are you thinking?? We’re just friends, okay? Recently there have been a lot of people calling me “husband” and I know immediately that they’re new fans. My old fans already know the rules and they know how to act with propriety. So friends, fam, my brothers and sisters, propriety is very important.

LYN: It’s the same old. If you’re older than me you can call me ‘Xiao Ning’ and if you’re younger you can call me ‘Ning-ge’ or ‘Liu Yuning’. It all works. Just don’t call me “lao gong”. Thanks. I just really think it’s (calling him “husband”)… in poor taste/vulgar/inelegant. Thank you. C: I’ll call you “baobao” (baby). LYN: /retches/ C: I like being vulgar. LYN: Shut up! / Guards!! Drag them away! // How dare you! C: Can we call you “Lao Liu”? LYN: Yes, you can. Call me whatever. “Lao Liu” is ok.

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C: Do you have a music variety? LYN: Nope. I can’t remember- I was on a variety show last year, right? I didn’t sign with any this year. … Was I not on any variety show last year? Was I on one…? I really can’t remember. Did I have one last year? // Oh, The Truth was last year! I thought it was the year before last. In that case, I didn’t sign with any for this year. I’ll probably pick one up, then. My plan is to have one or two varieties a year, and 3 or four dramas.

C: Can I call you “son”? LYN: I don’t know if you have any ill-intent, or if you just think you’re funny. LYN: You can. /threatening/ Come find me tomorrow and call me “son”. Say it to my face. Give it a try. You can. Come on. Come call me “son” to my face.

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C: Can you sing “Rang Jiu”? LYN: I won’t sing tonight, because my throat is uncomfortable. I got sick, so I won’t be singing. LYN: But I am always scrolling through comments and videos, and I saw something funny. Someone said, “Hey, let me tell you something interesting. I recently became a fan of LYN…” I always see these videos, and this one had that special effect where they just have the eyes and mouth. They were saying how they recently started liking LYN and started talking about their experience. At the start its like this- hold, on. Let me imitate it for you- /laughs/ I see a lot of videos like this.

--: I don’t know why but lately I found myself liking LYN. I didn’t pay him much attention before, almost to the point where I was an anti. I first heard about him because of the fact that he was singing online, and I was thinking to myself, “What’s so special about that?” Then he got so popular for no reason, and why does he have so many fans? I keep thinking that he has someone company backing him up. Anyway, I didn’t really have a good impression of him. But then later, I was watching a drama- Tomb of the Sea- and there’s a song in it I really like! It’s called “Rang Jiu.” I really like this song, but at the time I didn’t know that LYN sang it. I often listened to the song, but I didn’t know who LYN was. --: Then, suddenly, I was watching Ultimate Note and I found myself really liking the actor who played Hei Xiazi. I thought he acted really well. The attitude was on point. I didn’t know the actor before, but I found him really cute. Even though he’s not like the source material at all, I still thought he did a good job and started liking him. I didn’t know it was LYN. A long time had passed and I got the feeling I stopped hearing about him, and the only things I could find online were really trivial. I still didn’t pay him much attention. --: But I was scrolling through videos and stopped on a clip of the drama he acted in with Tao-jie. I thought, “Oh? His acting came across naturally.” So from that clip I started watching BYOL. I never watch these types of dramas, but somehow I found myself finishing it. After I finished I started to get the feeling that LYN was a pretty interesting person. When I’m scrolling through videos sometimes I find clips from his livestreams and he’s pretty funny. Once you start watching his videos, they’re all that’s recommended to you. Whenever I watch those recommendations I think they’re funny. Somehow I started to think well of him. The more I learned about him, the more I felt for him. --: He really made it this far, step by step, and it wasn’t easy. When you don’t understand someone you’re bound to have some bias and prejudice against them. Of course, you wouldn’t want to understand someone you don’t like, anyway. But I wanted to say- for LYN- as long as you start to get to know him, there’s nothing not to like. I can’t say there’s NOTHING, but at the very least you won’t hate him. I want to advise people online not to buy into the media or easily believe things heard from someone else. What we see and hear may not be the truth. You have to make an effort to understand it yourself. Sometimes how you interpret it may not be the truth, either. But anyway, this is how I started liking LYN. It’s mysterious. I started off as an anti and didn’t have a good impression of him, but lately I’m SO into him. --: He’s really cool and it wasn’t easy for him to get this far. Sometimes when I’m online I see bad posts about him- like the leaked photos or images that make him look bad. But then when he streams he chats about it so casually and in a funny way, to make us laugh about it. One day- I saw that filming started for his new drama and people were posting bad things about it- on the first day! In that moment I didn’t think it was funny anymore. You’ll start to feel sorry for him. He’s just really (mentally) strong. He’s able to compartmentalize everything. As fans, I know that we don’t need to worry for him, but in that moment you start to realize that he’s actually just as human as the rest of us. He’s probably not as strong as we all think he is. Anyway, I hope that people can stop using what they see/hear online as a means of understanding someone. Honestly, it’s probably not at all true. That’s how I started liking LYN, and that’s what I wanted to share.

LYN: Now I’m starting to suspect if that video was something I posted myself! I think I imitated it too well!! When you’re scrolling online and come across a video with special effects that explains someone’s process of liking LYN, it could be that LYN posted the video himself. /cackles/

bgm: 就在江湖之上 (Above the Jianghu) [Mysterious Lotus Casebook OST]

C: It’s almost exactly the same. // How could you remember it so well? LYN: If it’s a compliment about me, of course I would remember. If it’s about someone else, I probably wouldn’t be able to think of things to comment on. Since this is about myself, it all comes naturally when I open my mouth. C: Did you watch it many times over? LYN: You don’t need to watch these things too many times. I could remember it all with one watch through. This is what you call... talent. LYN: First of all, as an actor I think you have to have some natural talent for imitation. I can’t imitate anything else- like some classes will have you imitate animals. I can’t do that. The thing I am best at is imitating my fans. When I imitiate their gaze and their small habits, I can do it well! Exactly the same. I can even pretend to be one of LYN’s fans! C: Again! LYN: You haven’t seen enough? You even want an encore? I’m amazed.

C: Act it out for me. LYN: I won’t be. I pretty much gave you the gyst of all these videos with the one I just did. Only that the special effect was a lemon with the eyes and mouth, is all. That was pretty fun. I think everyone’s fans like to use that specific effect to talk about things. I don’t know if it’s an industry rule or something?? I’ve seen a lot of videos where someone stopped being a fan of their idol, and they use that effect to get rid of all their fandom stuff and vent. XD They also use that effect. I don’t know if it’s a potato or lemon, but they all use that effect. LYN: Is it used to stay unnamed/unknown? C: Watermelon. LYN: Yes, there’s the watermelon one, too. LYN: Is it to stay unknown? There are a lot of different effects you could use, like the one I just did. But they all seem to use that same one. I don’t know why. LYN: /puts on a different filter/ This works too, doesn’t it? Look at how big the eyes are. /playing around/ Wink! Oh, it can’t wink? C: You even know “wink”? LYN: /laughs/ What do you mean?? Is “wink” a very difficult English word to remember?

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C: Have you eaten Chongqing Xiao Mian? LYN: Everywhere I go, why does it seem like you ask me whether I’ve eaten the local specialty or not?? I just want to say- our country is very well developed. In Beijing you can eat the local specialties from all countries and regions. Do you think Beijing doesn’t have Chongqing noodles? Can you not find hotpot in Xi’an? There’s no way- it’s everywhere.

C: It’s not authentic. LYN: What do you mean “authentic”?? I always see people talking about how Chongqing hotpot is authentic, but I also see them selling the hotpot base. I went to eat hotpot the other day and there was a stall in front selling the soup base. If I bought that home, wouldn’t it be equally authentic? LYN: I get what you’re trying to say. But if Chongqing hotpot is packages and ready for purchase- why can’t I buy it and take it back to Dandong to eat? Then you tell me whether or not I’d be eating local, authentic Chongqing hotpot in Dandong or not. Isn’t it all the same?

C: The pot is different. LYN: I’ll just buy the same pot!! I’ll buy a pot home, does that work for you?

C: It’s still different. LYN: If you’re going to say that then you’re messing with their business. How can you say that? For example, if I were a Chongqing hotpot shop owner and I sold my base in my shop, would you stand in front of my shop and tell people that buying the base to eat at home makes it not taste “authentic”? You’re going to tell people that buying it home is different from eating it in store, and not to buy it?? Now, you tell me if the owner would give you a beating or not. Is that something a person would do??? C: It really is different. LYN: Then by your standards, all the hotpot bases in the country should stop being sold. You’re influencing a whole industry, I’m telling you now.

C: The atmosphere is different. LYN: If I buy a pot, Chongqing hotpot base, then make a room in my house LOOK like somewhere you would eat Chongqing hotpot, would it be okay then?? Would it still be different? I’ll remodel my house to look like a Chongqing hotpot shop. Buy one of the pots home. The electric stoves are all the same. Use their hotpot base. Tell me how it’s still different.

C: The water is different. LYN: I’ll take two pails of water home.

C: The land is different. LYN: I’ll dig 2kg of Chongqing dirt to bring home and spread it across my floor.

C: The air is different. LYN: /laughs/ What the heck are you saying. The air is different…

C: No waiters. LYN: Is the point of eating Chongqing hotpot to be waited on? The critical part of having Chongqing hotpot is the waiters, is that what you’re telling me? No way. But it doesn’t matter, because /I/ was a waiter. I just told you, too. Whether actor, singer, or artist, we’re all in the business of customer service.

LYN: In any case, we’re getting into semantics, but it wouldn’t really make much of a difference. It’s different from before. Now our transportation and shipping speeds is very developed. It’s not as difficult to get something you want to eat, from somewhere specific, as it was before. Delivery services are so much more convenient- what can’t you get nowadays? Don’t get too caught up in the details. C: It really is different though… LYN: Ok, fine then. If you say it is, then it is.

C: No Chongqing dialect. LYN: I’ll speak it myself! // I’ll play a song in the Chongqing dialect! -- 朝天门 by GAI LYN: I’ll listen to this song while eating hotpot, is that okay with you?? I’ll eat some then say [t/n: something in the Chongqing dialect, which I can’t understand. Maybe “So spicy!”?]. I’ll pretend I’m in Chongqing. Is that not authentic enough? // Fine, I won’t fight on this with you anymore. X’D

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C: Ning-ge, have you been to Hongya Cave? LYN: Is that the popular destination? Is it called Honga Cave? I’ve forgotten. It’s said that if you go there at night- the lights turn on at 8p and it looks nice. It looks like a scene from [//]. LYN: I went out to eat one night and crossed by a bridge. There were a lot of stalls on it, so I thought it would be nice if I could shop around. I saw there were stalls, but also there were people just standing on the bridge. What were they looking at? The bridge was really high up. Chongqing is a mysterious place. The bridge - the walkways are all high up. Almost as high as a building. I was wondering what they were all looking at, just standing onthe bridge?? But then my makeup artist told me that they were waiting for Hongya Cave to turn on the lights. That when the lights are on it’s really pretty and looks like something from a fairytale. So I looked it up on the internet and saw some pictures- it was very pretty, yes. In any case, I saved myself time waiting in line (to see it in person). XD I didn’t want to get up on that crowded bridge, so I just looked it up and saw it online.

LYN: It was pretty. I think Chongqing is a beautiful place, and I really like it here. The food’s good- very spicy. The shop owners always try to advise you, “You won’t be able to eat this. Don’t take it lightly. Don’t order this dish. You won’t be able to take it.” It’s all very spicy. But if I eat it every day, I think it would be too much. Because their specialty is heavy on oil and heavy on spice; but after you eat it you’ll feel so good. Still, I don’t think I could eat it every day. C: Can you eat spicy? LYN: I do ok. Even though I’m from Northeast China, I can still eat spicy foods. My tolerance is good. I dont have any big issue with it. There’s no problem.

C: Suzhou food is really good. LYN: I don’t know, but if I get the chance I want to try. I’ll get there eventually. I was in Xi’an for a while, and there I ate- was it Xi’an? My brain’s not working… Did I go to Xi’an? What did I do there? … Oh, Chunzhen! I was saying, I think I went but I couldn’t remember what for! I didn’t go there to film any drama… Oh, it was Chunzhen. I remember now. LYN: I went to Xi’an and ate, and I thought it was really good. The great thing was that I went to a few restaurants, and maybe the places I went to had less people around, but the aunties in the restaurants were really welcoming. Not “welcoming” in a “customer service” kind of way but sincerely welcoming. They would tell me that one dish is really delicious, or not to order too much because I won’t finish it all. You can feel that they’re very sincere. They’re very down to earth people, and the portion sizes are big! I thought the people there are really great. Real, sincere, and kind. It wasn’t only the one restaurant, either. It was every one I went to. It was nice. // I had fun.

C: Chongqing is really nice too. LYN: I didn’t really get out much in Chongqing. The most I’ve interacted with in Chongqing was my fans from here. /stares into the camera for a second/ Fans from Chongqing. I saw them every day. C: The personality is different in each region. LYN: I don’t know about that, but I had fun nonetheless. I ate a lot of delicious foods. Everywhere I go I’ll eat something delicious.

C: When are you coming to Guangxi? LYN: Guangxi… when I have the chance. LYN: In the early days when I was working, there was a senior who was from Guangxi. Sometimes when he spoke none of us understood him. He was a really funny guy, though. So I’m.. full of curiosity for Guangxi.

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LYN: It’s about time. It’s 10:54p. When I stop streaming I have to grab something to eat; I haven’t eaten yet. I’ll just stream until 11p. I just came here to chat, anyway. Let’s see how long I’ve been streaming for; I don’t think it’s been very long. 2 hours. It’s a decent time, not too short. So, friends- there are many of you who still have not subscribed to my weibo. If you haven’t, please do so. Thank you. Thanks for keeping me company tonight. After I return to Hengdian my schedule would be considerably more stable, but I will have a lot more scenes to do there. But since I consider it my home now, I’ll feel a lot more at ease and that way I can stream more often if I have the time. My equipment will be better there, too.

LYN: I hope I get better soon, but I think I still have a few more days of recovery to go. It’s not a big problem, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m already this old, and I am strong and healthy! It’s no big problem. I’ll be better in a few more days. 

C: /asks him about something specific/ LYN: I didn’t come here to get into any particular topics. I just came to chat. I have to watch what I say, because I don’t want to let anyone get something over me. I went to the Eastern Billboard and said I wanted to release my album before holding my concert, and somehow someone took that to mean that I was trying to subtly bring someone else down. It’s strange. Apparently everything I say is a subtle diss on someone else. As if I have the time to care about what other people are doing?? So in that case, I’ll just try to say less. LYN: I don’t have the time nor mental capacity to care about other people. I have my own work to take care of, and strings of beads to play with. I don’t have time to pay attention to other people’s problems or understand how they live their life. 

LYN: I hope you had a relaxing, happy and wonderful night. It was great to have you and I hope you had fun. Let’s meet again in the next stream. Goodnight everybody. -/starts imitating that fan video again/

[amarantine-amirite]

The Frustration Trap

It started when we had to buy a new oven. We did our research before we purchased the range we wanted. At least, we thought we bought the range that we wanted.

I was 17 and my parents were away on business when they delivered the unit. We did not receive an oven. The local hardware store instead delivered what I maintain is the most useless cooktop in existence instead of the range we wanted.

Most importantly, there was no oven. We can't make do with just the stovetop. Some argue otherwise, but there are some foods you need to put in the oven. For example, sous-vide chicken wings just don't taste right.

I swung by the furniture store where we bought the range. I waited forever to talk to someone because the place was crawling with personal shoppers who soaked up the cashier's time and attention. I've never seen personal shoppers in a housewares store other than for people in wheelchairs, not even in a fancy housewares store.

Finally, someone came over to help. "Hi, can I help you?" said a sales associate with a bushy hairdo, mustache, and a name tag that read "Doug."

"Yes," I said, "we bought a range here and you delivered a totally useless cooktop"

Doug tilted his head to one side. "What was wrong with it?"

I pulled out the picture I took of the cooktop on my phone. "The piece of shit that called itself a cooktop had no dials and was made of window glass painted to look like quartz glass."

Doug had difficulty believing what I just said. He tipped his head to one side. "How would you work a cooktop with no dials?" he asked.

"By using the app that goes with it, which is also total shit," I huffed. It pisses me off that the manufacturer forces you to download a crappy app to restore functionality you expect to come standard.

"Oh, this?" Doug said as he pointed to the app on my phone, "Yeah, their app is super easy to use."

"Ya think?"

Doug began his bullshit-laden spiel. "well, it's free and -"

"No, it's not." I interrupted, "The app wasn't free and the subscription fee cost almost twice as much as our rent!"

"Well," Doug stammered, "you can control the cooktop from anywhere - "

I blinked at him. "Doesn't matter. This stupid app made you give it your social security number to set up two-factor authentication and your bank account to verify payment information. I have no idea how stupid people would be to use it," i said, "Worse, none of the materials online mentioned you'd need this to install the app."

"Why is it stupid?" Doug asked.

"I'm positive that this app harvests your data and sells it on the black market."

Doug still didn't get it. "What's your point?"

"My point is you didn't deliver the product you wanted and what you did deliver is useless." I said tensely.

Doug shrugged. "How is this my problem? I'm not responsible for what we sell."

"Yes, you are" I nodded, "You are a salesman. You are responsible for assisting the customer when the product fails to meet expectations." I can't believe I had to tell him his job.

Doug raised his hands. "Hey, it's not my fault your frustration tolerance is so bad," he said defensively. He did the human equivalent of a lazy pony that trots really fast when you ask him to canter and hopes you don't notice.

I started to lose my patience. I felt myself tense up and go up on my tiptoes. "I do not have bad frustration tolerance," I said. I struggled not to yell at him. "The same things that frustrate you also frustrate me. I'm just more vocal about what's bugging me than other people."

"Yes, but let me repeat myself here," Doug said to me, "I am not responsible for the manufacturer telling the truth, nor am I responsible for managing the customer expectations. My mandate is that I only get the thing out of the store."

"No," I corrected, "that's only half your mandate."

Doug nervously turned around. "I'm going to get my manager."

"Yes," I nodded, "please do, because you're clearly too stupid to handle this on your own."

The manager arrived but did nothing to help. "Is there a problem here?" she asked with a facial expression that suggested I pulled her away from playing League of Legends on company time.

I noticed her name tag read "Anna". "Yes, I bought a range and they delivered a cooktop that leaves loads to be desired and the salesman has done nothing to help me rectify why I've received a subpar product," I said.

Anna shrugged her shoulders. "Why should I deal with your frustration?"

"Because it's a question of customer service," I huffed. I tried not to yell at her because people who work in stores have shit jobs and it isn't fair to yell at people who are trying to help even though their pay and work environment is crap.

Anna shook her head and said, "No, you just can't cope with frustrations."

I could feel myself losing control. My mouth dried up and I started shaking and pointing indiscriminately. "I do not have any more of a problem coping with frustrations than the next person," I said unbelievably quickly, "What I have trouble coping with is Doug's inability to do his job!"

Anna leaned forward and talked down to me, "No, he does his job just fine, you're just a bitch with the frustration tolerance of a four-year-old."

There was no way I could get myself back down. I couldn't even leave the store. I just froze. While I stood there unable to calm myself down, she proceeded to record me on her phone

It slowly occurred to me that she egged me on in hopes she could get a good Karen video to post online and license the rights to the highest bidder. I tried to walk away before I could further humiliate myself, but my legs just wouldn't move. I know because I fell over just turning around.

In hindsight, I don't think it would have helped. "I'm putting that on YouTube!" Anna exclaimed triumphantly.

The video went viral. It spread like wildfire across social media platforms. It captured the attention of thousands, including my parents.

They came home from their business trip early so they could deal with me. Dad brought the suitcase in from the car. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what would come.

"We need to talk," Dad began as he slammed his large suitcase on the stairs.

"Lay it on me," I sighed as I sat down on the couch.

Dad walked into the living room, sat in front of me, and pulled up the video on his phone. "I saw this video of you giving the manager of the Karl Farbman Store a hard time about the range we bought," he sighed heavily in frustrated disappointment.

I didn't hesitate to defend myself. "Because it wasn't right, and they weren't doing their job," I firmly retorted.

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, a sign of mounting frustration. "Harriet, this is why you need to check before you accept the order," he reasoned, trying to get his point across.

"It's not my fault they brought it while you were away," I responded with a touch of exasperation, "They said they were bringing it the week before you left."

Dad looked at me incredulously. His frustration broke through. "Then whose fault is it? Charles DeGaulle's?!" he exclaimed sarcastically.

My eyes widened in disbelief. "You weren't there!" I shouted, "Those morons were the exact opposite of helpful!"

Dad waves his hands horizontally. "It doesn't matter, Harriet," he grimaced, "The problem isn't the customer service at Farbman, the problem is you wear your frustrations on your sleeve, and that attracts the wrong attention."

I crossed my arms. "Not all the time," I protested.

Dad shook his head. "Harriet, when you deal with people, they see you express what's bugging you, and unfortunately, they take advantage of you so they can get a Karen video that they hope will go viral," he explained, "They set a trap, and you walked right into it."

My eyes narrowed. "Well, then, avoid those people," I shot back.

Dad shook his head. "You're going to be avoiding everybody if you do that," he retorted. "Retail workers make next to nothing, so what would you do if you saw someone who was upset, and you knew that you'd make ten times your yearly salary from the video of their meltdown?"

"Start looking for a better job?" I asked. I wasn't wrong.

"No. You'd egg them on and hope you got something explosive enough that you could license it to a content aggregator," Dad shouted like this was something that I should know, "Anyone who works in retail will natter at customers until they explode, but for most people, it doesn't post a problem because they don't express frustration as visibly as you do."

I hesitated before I said anything. Nattering at people until they blow up so you can make money off the footage of their tantrums didn't seem normal, but maybe I had just gotten lucky. "So, you're saying it's my fault that someone tricked me into misbehaving?" I questioned. How can the actions of someone else be my fault?

"No, Harriet," Dad said sharply, "it's your fault for taking the bait."

I mentally checked out. Nothing Dad said made any sense, so I picked up the Rubik's cube and tried to solve it.

Grandpa gave me the Rubik's cube just before he died. He asked me to solve this ordinary-looking but very special cube. I received no instructions on how to solve it, only a note that read: There are two kinds of people in the world - people who can solve Rubik's cubes, and people who just move the stickers around to make it look like you solved it. The latter are cheaters.

It's been a month. I'm nowhere near solving it. The mechanism would jam if I turned in a certain way. Unfortunately, turning it that way seemed to be a requirement to solve the puzzle. I tried so many other ways to avoid turning at the way where it got jammed, but nothing worked. It'd feel like I got somewhere but then I'd make an even bigger mess and have to start over.

Dad caught me struggling to turn the Rubik's cube. "You see? You're doing it again, Harriet."

"No, I'm not!" I grunted as I turned it as hard as I could.

To everybody's shock, the Rubik's cube broke apart after I turned it. If you turned it past the point where it jammed, the cube itself would open up to reveal the mechanism inside. I looked at the mechanism and saw it contained an SD card. I picked it up and put it in the pocket of my jeans.

I haven't been able to sleep that night. At about 1 a.m. the next day, I got up and plugged the SD card into the computer. I noticed only one item: a wave file titled November-3-2002-Broadcast.

I clicked on the link, intrigued by the mysterious recording that awaited me. As the audio began to play, I realized it was a recording of an alien anthropologist calling into a podcast. The familiar voices of the podcast hosts greeted the extraterrestrial guest.

"Welcome to the show," the host chimed in. "What's up? You've reached our podcast."

The caller gave the people on the podcast the surprise of their lives. "Uh, yeah, my name is Jethré. I'm one of the many aliens studying your species, and I'm calling to lodge a complaint."

The host sat there with a confused look on his face, looking confused. "OK?" he responded casually. He thought it was a joke - people prank call podcasts all the time, especially in the fall.

Jethré quickly explained, "Your species needs to stop calling yourselves Homo sapiens. The term sapient means something specific: a sentient species. Many species of sentient aliens, ours included, do not consider humans sentient."

The host's disbelief turned into curiosity. "Why is that?" he asked. He seemed genuinely intrigued by the alien's perspective.

"Because you humans are unable to keeneetaa," Jethré responded.

While the host muttered "What the hell is keeneetaa?"; his co-host chimed in with a suggestion. "Is it the ability to evolve intelligence without destroying our environment?"

Jethré promptly dismissed the notion. "Nope, it's not that," xe replied.

The co-host's determination persisted. "How about the ability to power our big brains on a plant-only diet?"

I don't think any of those are right. It sounds like someone projecting their wishful thinking onto something they don't understand. It's more likely that keeneetaa is either a universal language understood by all members of a species, a connection to some psionic web of understanding, or some wacky dance with little kicks and thumbs.

Jethré finally told us what keeneetaa was supposed to be. "It's neither. Keeneetaa is the sound of something colliding with nothing." xe said.

It took me a while to figure out what something colliding with nothing was supposed to mean. "No Earth language has a word for the instantaneous realization that something magnificent doesn't exist."

The alien was right. No language on Earth has a word for that, not even German, and German has a word for everything. We do, however; have a story for it: the story of The Emperor's New Clothes.

I thought back to my debacle with the stove we bought from the Karl Farbman store. The salespeople went on and on about how fantastic the smart cooktop was, but I was the only one who saw it for what it was: nothing but garbage. I saw something everyone said was magnificent was really nothing.

Does this mean I am the only sentient human because I can keeneetaa? Only time will tell.

@sstrangeprompts

[wonderingalbatross86]

On Authenticity

So last week I made a post about the food id expect to find in china town. Specifically, I talked about Cantonese food, and more broadly American Chinese food, and how I expected to get a more “ authentic “ experience in Chinatown. One of you responded to my post; user afedskdln wrote

"Hi. As a Chinese who have been to the SF Chinatown many many times. I have to say most of the food there is not authentic enough, but as a means to communicate culture, I am pretty sure most of them are worth trying. I would really recommend the one shown in your first picture -- "The Spicy Shrimp" -- where I believe makes the best Chueng Fueng (肠粉) in that area. Just go and ask for the egg and pork chueng fueng!"

So I wanted to take this post as an opportunity to comment on authenticity, and what qualifies a food as being, or not being, authentic.

So let's take a step back and look at Chinese food, or maybe food in general, as a whole. So china is, to put it mildly, a very large country. A quick glance online shows that china is the fourth largest country by area, and the single largest by population, boasting over a billion people strong. It's important to note that there is no one cuisine that can encapsulate this entire population, but much like how ‘European food’ will differ from country to country, ‘Chinese food’ will differ from region to region, calling into question what exactly is the defining Chinese food. 

But to extrapolate even further, we should note that, throughout history, borders and people have been rather porous. The borders of china have changed radically over the past two millennia, and chinas historical sphere of influence (including the culinary sphere of influence) extends into neighboring countries, such as japan and Vietnam. One should therefore ask- are many Japanese dishes, which are influenced by Chinese techniques, actually a variety of Chinese food? Moreover, are regions of china, say Manchuria, which have culturally and historically been distinct or even separate from what we would call china, Chinese food? The fact is, the question of authenticity is rather a socially constructed question and is subject to change over time and from place to place.

But let's take Chinese food to be food which is made in the country of china itself. In that case, yes Chinese food in San Francisco isn't authentic because its not made in china, and may not use exact ingredients from china. However, why exactly does that make it inauthentic? Let's go back to my point about borders being historically porous. What this implies is that people and nationalities have been historically divided by borders-take, for example, the Korean minority in northeast china, is their cuisine not Korean, simply because they do not live in Korea? I disagree with that claim. The cuisine is much more linked to the culture which undergirds it, rather than the place it was made, or the ingredients it uses. Different plants grow in the Americas than in Asia, and by and large, different cultures and nationalities live in both respective places. As such, the Chinese diaspora in America has adapted its cuisine to fit the common American palate and to use the local ingredients, all while taking inspiration from the culture from which it came. Does that make it inauthentic? Id argue that American Chinese food is authentic to American Chinese food. Just like how Indian food made by Britains Indian community is still considered to be Indian food, in the same way, what we may get at a dim sum joint in San Francisco, or even our local panda express, is a variety and flavor of Chinese food, almost a distant cousin of the cuisine actually produced in china.

I think that The Spruce Eats author Su-Jit Lin put this general point well, in an article she wrote, saying;

“ Yet who defines authenticity? Because to me, a Chinese American woman who grew up in an American Chinese restaurant, there is nothing more authentic to my lived cultural experience than the dishes of my childhood.”

Thanks for your response though, and I definitely will try that Chueng Fueng.

[selfcateringholiday]

Benefits of Choosing Coastal Cottages for Your Next Trip

Choosing suitable accommodation is essential for any trip, whether for business or pleasure. Coastal cottages in the UK offer various benefits that make them ideal for someone looking for a place to stay for their next vacation. Are you looking for the ultimate relaxation and a break from the stresses of everyday life? If so, self catering holidays may be just what you’re looking for. When you go on a self catering holiday, you are responsible for your food and itinerary. As such, there are plenty of benefits to be enjoyed. In this blog post, we will be going over some of these benefits to help you decide whether or not they’re right for you.

What is self catering? It means that you book accommodation such as a cottage where you can prepare your own meals, rather than having all your meals provided for you. Here is a list of our top six things we love about self catering holidays: With self-catering holidays, you can enjoy the freedom of booking your accommodation and flights separately. You also can buy your food and drink in bulk before heading to your destination, saving you precious money. Many self-catering holiday destinations allow you to spend as little or as much on food and drink. Some also have supermarket facilities nearby to stock up on all your favourite treats! Plus, if you’re travelling with a group of friends, you can split the cost of shopping and the washing up duties of course. Please go here Norfolk Coastal Cottages and get more and more benefits.

More spacious accommodation: Self catering cottages and apartments tend to be more spacious than hotel rooms. They usually have private living rooms, kitchens, and separate bedrooms. Many also include private gardens, meaning more space for your kids to run around! Self-catering accommodations are always located close to local restaurants and shops. So you’ll have plenty of options for eating out or buying food if you don’t feel like cooking.

Freedom and flexibility: You’re not always guaranteed a relaxing holiday when you stay in a hotel as you often have to abide by certain rules and schedules such as meal times. You also have to put up with people coming and going all the time. Self catering holidays allow you to come and go as you please without worrying about someone else’s schedule or rules. Explore your surroundings in your own time, not when someone else says it’s okay. This is especially great if kids are involved because they tend to have their own internal clocks, which don’t always match up with what adults think is best!

Privacy: If there’s one thing that’s hard to come by when staying in hotels and resorts, it’s privacy. No one wants to hear their neighbouring rooms arguing at 2 A.M. when they’re trying to sleep! And no one wants to be kept awake by drunken people talking in the hallway all night long. When you stay in a cottage, noise is kept to a minimum!! Our cottages are all based in local residential villages, giving you the perfect environment to wind down and relax knowing you’ll have an authentic village feel surrounding you. If you also want to stay up late chatting with friends or reading in bed, no one will bother you when you do it at your self-catering holiday home. You can make as much noise as you want (within reason) without worrying about other guests complaining or even being disturbed by your activities.

Pet-friendly: One of the biggest downsides to staying in a hotel is that most do not allow pets on their premises. Unless you have family or friends who can care for your furry friends while you’re gone, bringing them along can seem impossible. With self catering cottages, this isn’t an issue. You can bring your pet with you and make them feel right at home in the same way you do! Take the guesswork out of your holiday and book a self catering cottage today.

Many Food Options: You don’t have to eat whatever’s on the menu at a restaurant or hotel buffet on a self-catering holiday. Instead, you can bring your own food and make whatever you want. There’s no need to worry about dietary restrictions or allergies. You can even bring leftovers from your favourite restaurant at home and enjoy them while you’re on vacation. Just imagine how much money you’ll save by not eating out every meal! However, if you don’t feel like cooking, takeaway meals are available from Silverdale Holiday Park, so you can get the best of both worlds!

[potteresque-ire]

Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 18, “Fruits & Found Family”

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2021/05/23. Link to official English translation.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!) (TW: possible eating disorder)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on. 

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post). 

p1. “Fairy”

Likely referring to the similarity between Gg’s current role for 玉骨遥 (The Longest Promise) and LWJ. Dd was praising Gg for being “fairy-like”; Chinese “fairies” (仙) have a certain style especially in visual media, similar to ... LWJ’s ~ otherworldly, white robes that billow in the wind, peaceful to the point of distant, scholarly, delicate. In between the lines, Gg likely said he was simply playing LWJ (hence, the ”act another me” in the translation), which Dd protested... and said Gg was simply playing himself. Whether that means DD IS NOT LWJ!!!!! 😡😡😡 or something else, we’ll know what we get to watch the show!

p1-p2. “Heat”

Yes about the Chang’e 嫦娥 reference!! Despite Houyi 后羿 shooting down 9/10 suns and saving the day, his wife is, indeed, more famous (and therefore the star, the more powerful one), because she’s frequently featured in Mid-Autumn festival art, along with her pet rabbit 玉兔 (”Jade Rabbit”),:

(Chang’e with her bunny, traditional Chinese painting. Source.)

Below is Gg’s rendition of Chang’e / Jade Bunny pair ~ Chang’e being the superman in the drawing while Jade Bunny is crouching on the planet!! 

Guess of the missing convo from Gg’s side: Gg had wanted to bring something to Hengdian (where the filming of The Longest Promise was taking place) to cool himself down, and Dd had said it wasn’t necessarily. Hence Dd’s “My bad my bad” and the promise to send that something to Gg.

The loveliest line in this segment for me—and for many c-turtles— is the one about white hair. Turning grey a common, but very old-fashioned way of expressing worry and poor Dd, who hasn’t even turned 24, is claiming he was turning white because he got so worried every time Gg complained about the heat (Aww). 

Turning grey with worry isn’t limited to romantic situations — it may happen to doting parents with wayward children, for example, or to ancient patriots over their crumbling kingdom. However, it’s also one of the more (very!) dramatic ways to communicate tragic love in Chinese fiction before Western influence allows “love”, as a term / word / character, to be used explicitly in writing romance. 

Here’s a little example, a little diversion that may be of interest. Those who are familiar with the Wuxia classic Return of the Condor Heroes 神雕俠侶 by Jin Yong 金庸, whether it’s the book or its numerous visual adaptations, may remember how the hero, Yang Guo 楊過, went white at his temples overnight after his Shifu and lover, Xiao Long Nv (小龍女), didn’t show up at the cliff at the end of his 16-year wait for her.  

Set photo from a TV adaption of Return of the Condor Heroes, 1995. Turtles may find the actress playing the perenially white-wearing, calm-to-the point-of-aloof Xiao Long Nv, Carmen Li 李若彤, familiar ~ she also played Lan Yi in The Untamed. 

The 16-year wait, the invitation to Carmen to play Lan Zhan’s ancestor (when the two shared similarities in aesthetics and personality), were two of the three references from Return of the Condor Heroes I picked up from The Untamed (the last one was more specific—WWX mentioned Yang Guo’s master 獨孤求敗). This tribute is unconfirmed, but MXTX did say before that Jin Yong’s works were her inspiration. I also read a (small) discussion on whether LWJ’s hair carried a few pieces of white in the final episode, or if the lighter strands in it were a trick of the sunlight. (Here’s a screenshot of the approximate place to look!!) 

While I lean towards the latter (the sunlight), turning white with worry, with love, is a tradition in Chinese storytelling. Here’s a little something I’ve noticed too, on this note ~ both in the actual interviews and in these fake rumours, Dd’s word choices, the way he conveys emotions are sometimes surprisingly traditional. It can be because of his background (which would require a study of how Luo Yang people and Koreans talk); it can be because the traditional way of talking allows for fewer words to be said, fewer things to have to be explicitly explained (example: LWJ), but the effect is that Dd has supplied the most romantic lines in LRLG’s posts because of that ~ romantic because it harks back to the rhythm, the themes of old poetry, of ancient stories that, as were true everywhere in the world, were about love. 

Okay, back to the rumour (and hoping Dd won’t look like Bad Wig Yang Guo in a few more summers!) ....

The line after the one about white hair ... the way I understand the original Chinese sentence is “Heat is The Reason”: ie, anything Dd wants Gg to do and Gg disagrees, Gg would use heat as The Reason (R) to not do it. This anything may be eating, for example, which also has a strong possibility as conventional Chinese wisdom says that heat causes people to lose appetite. Dd’s worry would therefore be: Gg refusing to eat because he claims it’s too hot to do so.

“Corny joke” ~ the Chinese for this is, literally, “cold 冷 joke 笑話”, which becomes a pun as the gzry (team members)’s joke was about the (cold) winter and black hair. So... Dd threw a corny joke to combat a corny joke :D .

p3. “Apple”

The first half I also had to rely on c-turtles to help me interpret what it meant! Regional dialects aside, LRLG has captured dls’s very quick wit, the way his ideas freely hop from one concept to the next and this hopping carries traditional + popular cultural references that I know only a fraction of, not being a local after all. 

I’ve read an additional interpretation of this segment: “big fruit” 大果兒 (as in dls: “Those are all big fruits, all big fruits”) is a Northern Chinese, traditional slang for women—dls might have connected that with the previous line in the convo about being Guowang, as explained in the translation, and ��big and juicy” + “touch to feel” being suggestive phrases. Then, given the rare usage of the big fruit = women slang, dls expressed surprise that Dd understood what he meant, went on to say he expected Gg to know it (implying Gg could’ve taught Dd the meaning) ... 

Which led to the entertaining part of this segment. Dd was like “You guys (= Gg + dls) talked?” Dls appeared to have thought of the scenario customarily inviting this question (scenario: someone on the verge of catching their spouse cheating) and began playacting that scenario, started to stammer ... as if he had just been got caught trying to chat up someone’s spouse  ~  ”I-I-I....how to say it ...”. Dd caught on dls’s playacting and went along, continued with the “accusation”: “You’re stammering”. Dls then noted that Dd’s accusation was scary and Dd smiled, ending the playact ~ so, ah, readers, never mess with Dd’s spouse!! Dd gets scary!! 

(BTW: ”nijia na kouzi” 你家那口子 was explained in the translation for a reason ~ It’s a warm, friendly term for a dear friend’s spouse. 😊)

p4. Lychees

Lychees. Has everyone tried them? It’s important not to over-eat them though...

In which the “Feeding Gg” saga continues! This segment is one of those that are wonderful for fic writers who wish to capture Gg and Dd in words. Gg, like many brought up in traditional families, has trouble saying “no” outright, which is often considered rude. As such, he resorted to delay tactics, something he had also done with the fried noodles in The Makeup Room BTS. 

In the BTS, his delay tactics had been to argue that Dd hadn’t eaten his box of noodles and therefore, he couldn’t start (~2:35 mark)—as proper manners indeed dictated. In this dialogue, his delay tactics was to say he’d eat the lychees later, that the lychees would make him too full for the proper meal (rice). 

A cute thing about this convo is that rather than pouting and grumbling his only being LWJ’s replacement (as he had hilariously done in the BTS), Dd had, apparently over the last three years, become an expert on countering such delay tactics. He peeled the lychees, which not only removed a major obstacle for eating, but also set a timer as peeled lychees get dry quickly (and Gg, despite being a picky eater, didn’t seem to like to waste food). He said the fruit could make appetiser. He got the help of their team members, who assured Gg that two lychees would be all right.

Gg’s response to the assurance... takes a little time to explain. 

The original Chinese line for “Great, great, you’re so awesome” was 絕了絕了你們絕了。 “絕了”, a popular phrase used by Chinese netizens, was repeated three times.

絕, literally, means the extreme, the absolute, the end. 絕了 means pretty much the same ~ a thing that is 絕了 is standing en pointe at the edge of the cliff that is The Absolute End of a spectrum. It is the Ultimate. It can't be surpassed. It’s unbeatable. 

絕了 is usually used in a positive sense, as in the English translation, with the positive being implied. If I say the LWJ photo above is 絕了, for example, I don’t need to specify that the extreme in 絕 stands on the good end. It’s understood given the audience of this post are mostly turtles (HELLO *waves*). We’re all heart-eyes here. We agree, without saying, that this photo is The Top, The Pinnacle; it can’t be better. 絕了 is higher praise than Excellent; it’s so good that there are no adjectives for it. Its own presence defines How Good It Is. 

But 絕了 doesn’t have to be positive. If my audience is Su She ... he’s likely to take the same “This LWJ photo is 絕了” to mean the Mariana Trench kind of Absolute—the bottom of the bottom, the Unbeatable, Adjective-Defying Worst. 

絕了 allows for that understanding too.

In this scenario, I interpret Gg’s 絕了 as taking the meaning of both extremes (which make it a fantastic phrase choice!): that Gg thought Dd and the team members were being both the Absolute Best (for thinking of Gg, caring for him) AND the Absolute Worst (for going against his wish to not eat!) Gg’s 絕了 also signals defeat; if Dd and his team members were The Absolute ... Whatever, then poor Gg had no choice but to yield to their wishes. I can already imagine his “I can’t believe I lose this way” Look (see: every rock-paper-scissors he lost, which was ... pretty much all of them), mixed with, perhaps, a healthy amount of bunny tooth warning (how dare Dd et al banded up against him)...

Those bunny teeth had to be taken care of, right? And so Dd went on to say lychees being good omen that ensure things would go smoothly for the eater... targeting Gg’s being a, as c-turtles call it, 小迷信 (literally, “Little Superstitious”, a young + adorable + superstitious person). Dd said that to help Gg justify the choice to eat, to make Gg feel better about his defeat. 

(Of note: I had actually never heard of lychees being associated with good luck before, and a quick search online also didn’t yield any result. This could be a relatively rare association Google failed to catch ... or something Dd made up on the fly to make Gg happy.) 

(Lychees have, however, been associated with romance. If Emperor’s Smile 天子笑 was The Love Drink in The Untamed, then what is Concubine’s Smile 妃子笑? Answer: it’s the RL name of a type of lychees, lychees being the fruit very much adored by Yang Yuhuan 楊玉環, the consort of the Emperor Xuanzong (685-762 BCE) of the Tang Dynasty and one of the four most beautiful woman in Chinese history. Since lychees had only been grown in southern China, the emperor had had the fruit couriered, in express mode involving many horses, to the palace up north to please his favourite wife. Lychees had become a symbol of love from that historical tale.)

Did Gg get Dd’s message then, the love and care packaged in those peeled, sweet fruit awaiting his bite? Yes, but not without a little more fight! “Eat eat eat, (I’ll eat) until you go bankrupt” is a literal translation of his final line. Tonally, I can see the following as being an alternative translation: 

“Fine fine fine. I’ll eat, it’s not like I can bankrupt you by eating anyway!”

If it sounded a little sulky, that’s because it did ... a little sulky AND fiery. As expected from our favourite Chongqing Big Pepper 😂😂😂 (Poor Gg).

Dd smiled at that, needless to say. He won!!! He got Gg to eat!! The world shall rejoice!! 

p5. “Showtime”

There’s a show coming up for Dd (the YH concert maybe?), and Gg offered suggestions. 

The sweet point of this segment is about half-way down the conversation, in the piece of paper 📄 Gg gave to Dd (after “This is for you.”). Dd took the paper, noted the many words on it, and started saying 我把我整個靈魂, translated as “I bring my entire soul”.

c-Turtles have, based on these words, hypothesised that Dd was about to read out a quote that Gg had written on the paper, with the list of items Gg thought Dd should take, before Gg stopped him with a call of his name (“WYB”). The quote was included on the translation (”I give you my entire soul...only, a little good, love you.”) I have also talked about the same quote, in more detail, here.

I’m equally stumped on the final line of this segment. (Sorry!!)

p6. “Found Family”

It’s a heartwarming segment. While LRLG had previously noted that the TTXS bros had communicated with Gg, this segment made clear that they care for him like they do for Dd ~ as family.

* dls mailed Gg a lot of fruit for sharing with the film crew. “Family member needs to be impressive” is a rough translation, but this line does defy simple translation because 排面 a highly cultural concept that has much to do with the equally complex, Chinese concept of face (which this article explains... somewhat adequately). The message to take home is that dls cared enough about Gg that he wanted to make sure Gg wouldn’t lose face in front of the film crew; that, by having enough gifts (fruits) for everyone, Gg wouldn’t be viewed as cheap or inadequate or stingy, or whatever adjective that wouldn’t befit his top idol status. Because dls saw Gg as a member of his family. 

* The prescription from hg had been mentioned in a previous LRLG rumour. 方子 is a Chinese medicine prescription, which, unlike Western formulations, is individualised both to the discomfort / ailment and to the “body constitution” of the person who'll take it, the latter deciding the kind of ailments the person is susceptible to, and which ingredients are expected to be more effective. Chinese medicine also places a strong emphasises on long-term conditioning, whether it’s for recovery from a certain condition or for general good health. A good 方子 is therefore a far more complex and personal thing than, say, a scribble of “paracetamol” / “acetaminophen” on a piece of paper. :D

* fg’s gift for Gg (xx) is something for the waist. A brace support, maybe? For example?

My favourite line in this segment is when hg asked what will Gg and Dd do when they reach hg’s age. Given that the last two items (the prescription and xx) were health-related, I interpreted it as hg worrying about Gg and Dd’s health when they grow old... with all the health problems they already have. It’s the kind of thing a worried parent say to their children ~ my mom has said the same thing to me as well. 😢

p6. “The Cat Paw”

Not quite sure what’s happening here ... not sure what the cat paw is. (Sorry!!) But that é in the translation is Dd’s signature laugh (collection here), which is written as 鵝 (”Goose”) in Chinese 😂.

p7. “The Cat Toy”

Dd appeared to be shopping for a cat’s toy (something that can “hook the cat” in the translation, such that the cat can entertain itself and not rely on human companionship as much). Gg had already bought the toy though and sounded quite proud of it, told Dd to return the toy. The implied cat was, of course, Nut (堅果 Jianguo)... which had been repeatedly referred to in LRLG’s posts as Gg’s daughter.

p7. “Cool vs Cute”

Gg is often viewed as cute, and Dd as cool. Did Dd dislike Gg taking cute pictures for public consumption? Were they scheming an exchange of image? :D

And that’s it for this issue! Ooh, this took unexpectedly long ... I apologise for the ridiculous delay between the original post and this commentary! 

(I wrote half of it, then RL struck and I forgot about it.) (I’m hopeless.) (I need a 方子 for poor memory!!)

[nishiannoya]

You used to give Takahiro so much shit, arguing with him and pulling at your hair while trying to make him see how stupid he was being for wanting to starve over holding a job that could provide despite being dispassionate. You were teenagers, both of you a little more privileged than either of you could admit at the time, and wrapped up in the self-importance of being young. While you miserably chipped away at a college degree, he miserably lived with 4 other people in an overpriced flat collecting food-stamps - both of you convinced that the other was lying about being where they were meant to be. Neither of you were wrong, though it certainly doesn't feel any better to admit that. He had told you not long after your biggest argument that you were right, that he should just suck it up until something that was right presented itself.

That was all years ago, neither of you really talking much other than the occasional check-in and inside joke from your childhood. So now it's your turn, out of the blue, pressing the green call button next to his name that's remained unchanged in your phone after all these years.

"You were right."

"Wh- Well hello to you too," his deep voice comes in clear over the network as if he's sitting right next to you and not a hundred miles away. You can hear some other noises, perhaps he's out to dinner or at work.

"I'm sorry for lecturing you back then," you sigh, cutting to the chase. Even though you two don't talk often anymore, you always know you can pick up right where you left off with him, a nice perk of knowing all the ugly growing pains of a person.

"When I moved across the country? I deserved it. I was a piece of shit," he laughs, and it makes you smile even though you've been faking it all day.

"Well, I'm a piece of shit now," you tell him, stretching your legs out on your couch and flopping back dramatically.

"You're living off the government with a bunch of drug addicts?"

"I'm a slightly elevated piece of shit," you correct yourself. It's been less than a minute and he already has you feeling better. "I just wanted to tell you that I get it now. That you weren't wrong for not wanting to do something you didn't have passion for, and for being afraid of getting stuck. I was harsh with you."

He laughs. Same old dumb Takahiro laugh.

"Nah, I needed to hear it back then," he says once he calms down. "Though, you calling me to tell me that can only mean you're probably a miserable piece of shit now."

"I hate you. I have no idea what I'm doing. I feel like nothing I do is for myself anymore. Everyone warned me about being influenced by you, and I swore up and down that I was different, but I ended up just like you," you lament.

"Pshh! You sound pathetic, and I'm actually pretty happy for once."

"Oh yeah? What are you doing these days?"

"I'm working at a pizza place! On a break right now. It's got authentic brick ovens and locally sourced organic produce," he says proudly. You can practically hear the grin in his voice. He truly does sound happy.

"Th-That sounds n-nice." You break, voice quivering as tears slide down your cheeks. God, you feel fucking stupid. You're not even sure why you're crying, but you still wipe away the tears and sniffle up your snot as if you're not completely alone in your apartment.

"It is nice," he says, and it's strangely relieving for him to be unfazed by your crying. He's never been one for traditional words of comfort. "You should come try it sometime."

"Yeah?"

"Just a train ride away."

"O-Okay," you hiccup. "I'll come this weekend."

"Sounds good," he agrees. "I'll text you the details. We'll talk when we see each other."

"Yeah," you manage to smile at the gentleness in his voice. "I'm gonna hug you so hard. I've missed you."

"I miss you too," he says back. You can hear someone calling for him in the background, signaling that it's time to go for now. "Keep your chin up, kid. I'll always root for you."

[mourntheantagonist]

Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone!! It’s Finally the Day to share my piece for the @harringroveheart-on !! (If you didn’t already see it posted on ao3 yesterday)I went with the prompt: secret admirer!! enjoy some flangst and have a wonderful day whether you celebrate the holiday or not!! ❤️

Fortunately

read on ao3

***

Billy needs a job.

He’s two months fresh out of the hospital but that doesn’t matter. The local pool was closed for the winter and Neil was adamant that he get out and find work as soon as he was able to walk, despite the fact that he could only do so for only short periods at a time.

And he’s forced to take what he can get. January wasn’t the best time of year to be looking for work in Hawkins. He told himself he’d apply at any place with a help wanted sign displayed in their window. And he did. Application after application. Stellar fucking resume. The only problem was that not many people were looking to hire on the guy who looked just minutes away from death each time they saw him. Didn’t want to put the guy with the hideous scars and the sickly frame in front of customers. Though, they’d usually let him off with the same similar speech about how he “just wasn’t what they were looking for.”

Luckily for Billy, there was one place that was just as desperate as he was. Li’s Kitchen. The local Chinese restaurant that had just needed to make several layoffs to keep themselves from closing. They quickly hired him on to wash dishes in the back because he was ready and willing to work for minimum wage. Making just $3.35 an hour, it was enough and at least it got Neil off of his back.

So he’d haul his ass into work every day on the dot. Walking the full half-mile distance through snowy paths to the restaurant since the Camaro was still out of commission. Trudging along, praying he didn’t slip because his ribs were still fragile and just a simple impact of a good fall could break them again. The walk was simply exhausting. By the time he’d enter through those double doors and set off the bell hung above, he’d be completely out of breath and exhausted and his shift hadn’t even started yet. But fortunately it was just washing dishes. How hard could it be?

Apparently. Pretty fucking hard for a guy who could hardly stand up straight. The heat radiating from the hot steam of the water making him lightheaded almost instantaneously. The boiling hot water against his arms and hands sending him back to those days flayed out in the sun as the ultraviolet rays burned through the skin. The liquid dripping from his face that he couldn’t differentiate from steam or sweat taking him back to the sauna. Feeling his insides heat up and burn like fire inside his gut. Trapped in a prison that was his own body. He just wanted to crawl into a bucket of ice.

His only saving grace was that this time it was winter, and he wasn’t actually flayed. Just overheated and weak. He'd take his breaks behind the restaurant digging his feet into deep snow and letting the chill breeze cool him down. Lighting up a cigarette to get his body to an equilibrium of hot and cold. But the good feeling only lasted as long as he stood outside, immediately getting the same sick to his stomach feeling as soon as he walked back in. Hunched over the sink in the kitchen just trying to move fast enough and stay standing.

He figured he was lucky enough to get the job, that he couldn’t afford to disappoint, because then he’d be entirely out of options. Unemployed and still stuck under his father’s roof on Cherry Lane, this time accompanied by a deeper rage. If Billy didn’t have a job to get to, Neil would have no reason to hold back anything. No reason not to leave bruises or cuts. But it was getting harder and harder as the days progressed. Never enough time in the day to rest and recover enough to brave the next one. He was running on borrowed energy and excessive amounts of caffeine.

There came a moment when he nearly passed out into the sink full of porcelain plates. His breathing became shallow as his vision got blurry and dark. His head spun and his balance faltered and he needed a fucking drink of water.

One of the servers caught him just before he was about to go down. A man older than him but not by much. Same build as him before the accident but easily with an additional five inches on him. Billy was probably at least ten pounds lighter now that a bulk of his muscle had wasted away in that hospital bed. Making him easy to catch.

“You look like shit hargrove.” is what the man says, but Billy barely registers it because everything is muffled. The sounds of running water into the metal sink being the loudest noise he can hear. The man tosses one of Billy's arms over his shoulder and hauls him into the break room. Billy’s doing exactly zero of the work. Letting his legs fall limp and his feet drag against the tile floor. He sits him down in one of the metal chairs and hands him a small cup of water from the jug. “Drink you’re dehydrated” he says, tilting the bottom of the cup upwards so that it’s forced into Billy's mouth and down his throat. “The dinner rush is almost out, I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes, you just stay in here and try not to pass out again, sound like a plan?”

Billy nods his head and drinks the rest of the water in the cup before letting his head fall into his hands and his eyes fall shut as he tries to regain his composure. Cool himself down and slow his heart rate.

By the time his coworker — Zachary, he remembers — comes back into the break room he’s better. Not quite ready to get back to the sink and the hot steam cloud that comes with his job, but better.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten kid?” Kid. Sounds really odd coming from someone who could be no older than thirty.

“I had toast this morning.” Billy hadn’t actually been eating much lately. Not finding the time in the day to sit down to have a meal in between work and recovering from said work. His hours conflicted with family dinner so he was left to fend for himself. Neil made it very clear that what was in the cupboards did not belong to him. So all he had to his name was a single loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

“Well guess what. It’s closing time and you’re not leaving here without a meal. So go sit down at one of the tables and pick anything you want from the menu.” Does Billy have pride? Yes. But is his stomach turning and his mouth watering at just the thought of some orange chicken? Also yes. So instead of arguing with him about how he can take care of himself, which is debatable at this point, he just says thank you and finds himself a table in the corner. He doesn’t expect Zachary to follow him all the way there and sit down right across from him.

“Don’t worry about paying. My dad will cook it up for free.”

Oh right. Zachary Li... The owner’s son.

And suddenly things went from awkward to outright uncomfortable for Billy. Because he was sitting here eating dinner with another man who would be footing the bill. Sure, Zachary was just his coworker and in his mind the exchange had absolutely no weight to it, but to billy it was so fucking heavy. The thought of Neil barging in to see the display and not giving two seconds to read the situation before he started throwing punches. Because it didn’t matter if it was a date or just dinner with a coworker. If it looked a certain way, then that’s how it was.

But the other thing was he couldn’t just get up now. Not without an explanation. So he sucked it up and said he’d have the orange chicken, earning a scowl followed by a laugh and a nod because of course he’d order that and none of the authentic chinese food dishes. But then he ordered the same thing because they both have fallen victim to american colonization.

And chef Li made a damn good orange chicken.

And this one did not disappoint. But it’s not like he really had the chance to taste it since he was too busy inhaling it. Finishing his entire plate before Zachary had even made a dent. And Billy was slightly embarrassed by it. But zachary said nothing. Just continued with his own meal without acknowledging that Billy had scarfed his own down in no time at all. Making other dry conversation with Billy and constantly refilling his water glass with the pitcher every time it got below half full.

When he’s just about finished is when chef Li brings out a small plate with fortune cookies sitting on top, one for each of them. They each take their own and crack them open.

“What’s it say? I got an inch of time is an inch of gold for the thousandth time. I swear elizabeth is getting lazy with these”

Billy looks down at his, and can’t help but laugh.

“A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life.”

Hahaha. Hilarious.

“Well then we better hope that these things come true. Though I have a lot of time and have not seen any gold fall into my lap yet.” he laughs and pops the cookie into his mouth, Billy does the same. “Hey dad, you gonna open one?”

“Sure.” he says. Pulling one from the container in the back and breaking it open quite aggressively. “Allow compassion to guide your decisions. Boring.”

They both just laugh. But then Zachary gets this weird look in his eyes. “Hey dad? What if Billy made the fortune cookies instead?”

“Who would wash the dishes?”

Zachary just shot him a look. Yeah, Billy's medical condition and clear exhaustion didn’t go unnoticed by the staff. That must have been what that look meant.

“Read that fortune again, Dad.”

He looks down at the slip of the paper in his hand and almost instantly tosses it to the floor.

“You’re a pain in my ass Zach. alright then Billy, you available in the mornings? I can have Elizabeth show you the ropes tomorrow and if you’re any good you won’t have to wash dishes anymore. That will be my ungrateful son's job.”

“Hey-“

“No ‘hey’ nothing. Have compassion, remember?” he swats Zach with the towel that hung over his shoulder.

Billy just stayed silent for the whole exchange. Only nodding his head when asked if he was free in the mornings. He wanted to tell them to fuck off. To tell them he could do his job perfectly fine. A bold faced lie, but still. However, he also recognized that he couldn’t continue the way he was going. He was three shifts away from an ambulance ride to the emergency room, and that would just piss off Neil further.

So instead of speaking up, he silently agreed, and suddenly found himself walking the same distance he did every day, this time at seven in the morning when the rest of his house was still asleep. Another bonus. Less he had to see Neil, the better. And he’d be home in time for family dinner, the only meal he was welcome to join. And as much as he hated sitting across the table from his Dad, Susan's cooking served as a pleasant enough distraction.

Liz gladly showed him how to make the cookies. Constantly expressing how much she hated making them and is happily giving up the job to billy. That didn’t make him feel too great about it.

But then it really wasn’t bad. Just tedious. Slightly boring and mindless. Made his hands ache after a couple hours of folding the fortunes and squeezing out the batter, but it was ten times less painful than doing the dishes. He got to make them while sitting down at a table before the place even opened. No crowded kitchen or hot running water. The only heat he experienced came from opening and closing the oven, and that only happened for seconds at a time.

And the best part.

He got to make the fortunes.

Typing out several sheets of sample fortunes on a typewriter, cutting them into slips using the paper guillotine. It was definitely strange they never bothered to check his work. They had way too much trust in a guy like Billy to write fortunes. Free will to throw anything in there.

Did he ever veer away from the script posted to the wall? No. But the fact that he could was so funny to him.

He never once considered he would actually want to throw something else into those fortune cookies, until that first tuesday in the middle of his shift right as they opened for lunch and he saw a familiar figure enter through the glass doors into the restaurant. Bell chiming behind him. Craning his head upwards so he could get a closer look he recognizes Steve, picking up a to-go order still wearing the dark green family video vest. Steve didn’t even notice him. Just grabbed his white paper bag, dropped the bill on the counter, and walked out the door. Flashing a smile at Liz who was up running the counter.

But Billy, he saw Steve. He stared at Steve for the duration of his time in the store because he was totally and completely whipped. Totally entranced for long enough that the cookies he was folding had already hardened, and Zach was giving him a weird look when Billy visibly shook at the sound of the bell chiming for the second time, pulling him from the trance.

“So harrington, huh? He’s your fortune?”

Billy got all wide eyed and jerked his head to the right to look at him. Completely zoned out and unprepared to defend himself, instead just stuttering out a string of nonsensical “I”s and “no”s and “it’s not”s. Failing miserably to get the lies past his tongue.

“Relax dude. I don’t really give a shit. Elizabeth, however, might. Girl doesn’t stop talking my ear off about you.”

But that just goes in one ear and out the other. Billy still continues to stutter out as best of a denial he can but his heart is racing, his stomach is churning, his palms are sweating, and the cookies are burning!

“Shit.” it’s the first full sentence he’s been able to get out. Rushing over to the oven and pulling out the hot pan of nearly completely blackened circles.

And Zach is just standing there laughing. Waving the smoke out of his face as Billy tries to blow out the miniature fire he caused on one of the cookies.

“Still gonna try and deny it?” he says.

“Fuck off. Seriously.”

Zach just backs away. Hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my own business. Lover boy.”

Billy promptly tosses one of the finished cookies at his face. “Whatever you think you saw. Keep it to your fucking self, alright?”

“Got it. Loud and clear.” But he’s still fucking giggling and Billy is currently contemplating murder. Eyes darting to the array of knives in close reach. Shakes the feeling. Killing the boss's son probably wouldn’t look good on evaluation.

Did he tell anyone? No. Did he tease billy relentlessly about it every fucking day. Of course he fucking did. Especially on days Steve walked into the restaurant for a to-go order. Nudging him in the arm with a little “Guess who’s here?” in a sing-songy voice.

And to think Billy thought having someone know and not crucify him would be a good thing. He'd rather he just hate crime him behind the restaurant instead of the constant, and I mean constant, ribbing.

Eventually moving on from teasing behind the wall of the kitchen to suggesting he go out and take the payment to actually pushing him out the swinging doors to do it. “Talk him up Hargrove. Put on the moves.”

There were no moves. But there was a conversation. A good one. A nice one. They just talked about themselves and caught up. Not really seeing much of each other once he was out of the hospital. Only having seen Steve in passing on days he’d bring max by for visiting hours. But they never actually talked much during that time. He’d come up to the room with her saying “Thought it’d be nice to see another familiar face.”

And it was.

Billy was not paying much attention to this conversation. Answering Steve's questions and asking his own, but he was definitely distracted by how close their hands were to each other, both rested on the counter, supporting themselves. If you asked Billy after the conversation what they talked about, he could only recall two things. One; he works at family video, not really substantial. And two; he said he looked good.

“You look good Billy.”

Yup, Billy was completely gone.

So maybe the constant teasing wasn’t completely terrible. Especially now that he’s given him such a stupid stupid stupid idea that he’s one hundred percent going to go through with because it’s about fucking time he wrote some fortunes of his own. He had several typed out and ready to be placed into a cookie whenever they received another call for an order for ‘Harrington.’ The first one was innocent enough. Pulled straight off the list of sample fortunes.

“You always bring others happiness.”

Just something simple. He just saw it on the list and it made him smile. Thought it would be nice to see Steve smile too.

The next few were similar to that one. Pulled straight off of the list but tailored specifically toward Steve.

“You are working hard.”

“Have a beautiful day.”

“You look pretty.”

But that last one was different. Because on the back of the last one he wrote in ballpoint pen.

- The cookie maker ♡

And that’s when it became a thing that they were both aware of. Now it was a romantic gesture and not just an act of kindness or a series of coincidental fortunes. Now steve was on the lookout for who made the fortunes at Li’s kitchen, but at the same time trying to keep the mystery alive so that the fortunes would keep coming.

Billy started writing out his own.

“I like your hair.”

“You have a terrific ass.”

“Somebody’s got a crush on you.”

Zach wrote that last one.

Then they got deeper.

“You make me happy when I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You make the pain go away.”

Steve never failed to blush at each and every fortune with the signature heart on the back.

But it was dragging on. And Steve was getting impatient. Started to ask around, eventually learning that robin had seen Elizabeth Li making them one time.

Elizabeth Li is sixteen. Absolutely not.

And now he feels bad for letting it drag on this long. Taking himself to the restaurant to let her down gently. When he walks through, Billy is standing behind the counter. Confused because he didn’t usually order on Wednesdays, and especially not this late in the day.

Was that a weird thing to know?

“Do you have an order to pick up?” Billy asks.

“No. Not today. I was actually hoping I could talk to Elizabeth, is she around?”

And Billy's heart just sinks to the floor. The slight smile that was on his face now completely gone and shattered to pieces.

“Yeah. I’ll go get her.” he says, with a heavy heart, disappointment clear in his voice.

He sends her out to the front and lingers in the back, ear pressed to the door trying to listen in like some creep.

“Look, elizabeth. I’m really flattered and I appreciate the fortune cookies, but you’re way too young for me. I’m sorry.”

Shit.

Is Billy supposed to be worried or relieved?

He can’t even see her face but he knows she’d be giving him her death stare right about now.

He can hear her say it through clenched teeth and he shouldn’t find it so funny but it is.

“Yeah. Okay, sorry about that. I’ll definitely stop doing that. Have a good day Steve.” And she just walks away from the counter and Billy barely jumps backwards in time to not get a door slammed in his face.

“You better fucking fix this Hargrove. I am not going to go down for this for you.”

Zach had just walked into the kitchen from the break room. Chef Li and the rest of the staff are just minding their own business.

“What did I miss?”

Elizabeth is all up in Billy’s personal space. Inches away from his chest looking up at him from her height of just five feet and three inches.

“Steve fucking Harrington thinks I’m his little secret admirer.”

Her face is red in anger but Zach’s is red from laughing so hard.

“Now that’s fucking funny.”

“If you don’t tell Steve, I will. I covered for you out of the kindness of my heart, but I’m not that kind.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

“Shut up Zach!”

Zach was laughing. Billy however, was suddenly not. Head now bowed, sighing heavily.

“I can’t do that.” It was a quiet and sudden change of tone that altered the mood of the situation entirely. The only people who could hear were just the three of them because the sound couldn’t overpower the noises of chopping vegetables and the clanking of pots and pans and the sizzle of cooking meat.

“Why not?”

“Fuck you. You know why.”

“Well what was your plan Romeo?! Were you just never going to tell him?” she threw her hands in the air like he was being ridiculous. The only thing that was ridiculous was that he ever went through with it in the first place.

“I don’t know. Okay? I don’t fucking know.”

Zach came up from behind him and offered a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Look dude, my little sister is a bitch but she’s right. You have to tell him. I’ll have your back when you do.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Billy jerks his head back down to look at Liz.

“Tell him. Tomorrow.” Her arms were crossed and she clearly wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

“Fuck the both of you. My shift is over.” Billy pushed past her and out of the restaurant. Leaving his jacket behind and walking home through the cold weather. His converse getting wet from the slushy snow, soaking through to his socks making him even colder all over. He’s internally freaking out and his heart would be beating out of his chest if his nervous system wasn’t operating at a decreased rate due to potential hypothermia.

He can’t even think. Just kicking his feet against the wet pavement letting the breeze take him over. If he dies, he doesn’t have to tell him.

Headlights pass him by as he slowly walks the distance home, nobody caring about the guy who cheated death just months ago inching closer back to that point instead of further away. Nobody stops to offer him a ride or even check to see if he’s okay, and he’s not even sure if he even wants to make it home. It would be preferable to just fall asleep in one of the bushes outside than having to make his day even worse by introducing Neil into it. Sitting at a dinner table, making nice and pretending like everything that was going well for him won’t come to an end twenty four hours from now. All the joy of making those little fortune cookies and just imagining the look on Steve’s face every time. The look he knew for sure was one of happiness despite never seeing it because it wasn’t a coincidence Steve’s lunch orders became more and more frequent.

But in his peripheral a set of headlights did seem to slow. That was either a sign he was meeting his savior, or potentially his kidnapper. Honestly at this point they are the same thing.

“Billy?”

You have got to be kidding me.

“Hey Harrington.” His teeth are chattering and his voice is shaky as he says it. Is it the cold? Or are his nerves finally beginning to work at the worst time possible?

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Walking home.”

“You’ll die out here.”

“If only.” He says it under his breath but Steve still hears it. Letting the car come to a complete stop rather than the slow pacing he was doing before.

“Get in. I’ll take you home.”

Billy just waves him off. “I’ll be fine on my own.” And he continues walking at his slow pace.

“I wasn’t fucking asking. Get the hell in Hargrove. Before I drag you in here.”

Billy stops and sighs. Kicking more slush into the air. “Fine.”

He walks around to the passenger side and lowers himself into the seat. Groaning as his body aches from the motion. Steve doesn’t acknowledge it. Just puts the car back into drive and heads towards Cherry Lane. Silence in the car as Billy breathes into his hands trying to warm them up. He’s pale. Looks like he’s never seen the sun before. His face is flushed. Even in the state like this Steve carries the same sentiment from that first conversation at the restaurant.

“You look good, Billy.”

He doesn’t say that. But he’s thinking it.

They eventually pull up to the white house with the screened in porch, and Billy grows visibly tense in his seat. He’s not moving. Just darting his eyes from the clock in the car and back to the house with the lights on.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks. But Billy’s eyes continue to move back and forth as his breathing quickens slightly more as each second ticks by. Showing no sign that he heard the words that came out of Steve’s mouth. He reaches over the center console and grabs his hand. “Hey.”

Billy looks over like a deer in the headlights. Eyes ever so slightly glossy. Clearing his throat he tries to speak.

“Can you take me somewhere else?” He asks.

He doesn’t want to go home. Can’t begin to even think about seeing his Dad today. He just wants to crawl under his covers and go to sleep. Dream of a reality that isn’t his own. Not this fucked up shit show he’s stupidly gotten himself into.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here?”

Neither of them realize Steve is still holding his hand. Not until he squeezes it tighter, recognizing the pain in Billy’s voice. Not for what it meant but just that it was there. He didn’t need to nor want to know why Billy didn’t want to go home. Just wanted to make it so he didn’t have to.

“Is my house okay?”

Billy hesitates, but nods.

And they turn the car around.

- : -

Billy wakes up the next morning on Steve’s couch to the sound of a microwave’s hum followed by a loud ‘ding’ that echoes off the walls. He just remembers walking through the door of Steve’s house and immediately laying down on the first soft surface he could find. Remembers Steve saying he’d be upstairs if he needed anything before quickly drifting off into sleep without a care in the world.

He went to sleep without a pillow and a blanket, and woke up with both.

Billy rubs away at his eyes while Steve enters the living room from the kitchen with two plates in his hands.

“I made you a hot pocket if you want one.” He sets the plate onto the coffee table before he takes a seat in the chair beside the couch. Billy sits himself up and takes the plate, cooling it off with a quick blow of his breath before biting into it. “You have work today?”

“Yeah, at eight. What time is it?”

“Only seven fifteen. I have to be in at eight thirty so I can drop you off if you want.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s seriously not a problem man, and no offense but you don’t look like you’d make the walk from here to there.”

Billy laughs.

“I thought you said I looked good.”

Shit. It’s weird that he remembers that.

But Steve blushes. “Well yeah, just not ‘two mile hike’ good. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks.”

“Why are you working anyway? Shouldn’t you still be recovering?”

Billy frowns. “My Dad is making me.”

Oh. That’s why he doesn’t want to go home.

The situation is awkward now. Silent as they finish their breakfasts and drive off in the Beemer. Pulling up outside the restaurant fifteen minutes before his shift starts. Billy suddenly reminded of what he’s supposed to do today as soon as he looks at the sign out front.

“Uh, hey. Listen. Come by the restaurant for to-go. On me y’know, as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to-“

Billy cuts him off.

“Yes. I do.”

- : -

When Billy walks into the kitchen in the same clothes as yesterday nobody says anything. Nothing about his undone hair or his or his early arrival to work. Instead he’s met with apologies exiting the mouths of the two Li children as they corner him in the break room.

“We’re sorry about yesterday. It wasn’t fair for us to do that to you. Elizabeth said she won’t tell Steve.”

They were waiting for him to yell, or at the very least get his anger out some way.

But instead Billy smiled. Barely there with just the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth but it was there, so distinct from his natural grimace. “It’s fine.” He says.

Zachary and Elizabeth are entirely confused. Looking in between each other like ‘did you just see what I just saw?’

“What has you so chipper?”

His smile just grew slightly wider.

“Spent the night at Steve’s last night.”

The two’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“You what!?” They both said in unison.

“Jesus! Not like that. I just slept on his couch.”

Billy could see the cogs turning in each of their heads. Trying to figure everything out like it was some complicated math problem. “I think I’m going to tell him. Today.”

“Really?”

Billy nodded, threw on his skull cap, and left the dumbfounded siblings where they stood. He had a fortune to write, and cookies to bake.

He was so meticulous this time. Making sure they were perfectly round circles, folded exactly in half. Throwing nonsense fortunes into each one. Avoiding the one sitting by itself on the table beside him. Too afraid to throw it into a cookie, each time he tossed in another basic off the list fortune was just Billy trying to talk himself out of it.

But he inches closer and closer to reaching the point of no return. First by putting in Steve’s lunch order. Next by finally slipping the fortune into a cookie. Next by slipping the cookie into Steve’s bag, and finally at the strike of noon, handing the bag to Steve, insisting he pay for it while Billy continuously denies him. Telling him to go enjoy his meal and stop arguing with him.

When Steve walked out the door Billy thought he could stop holding his breath. But he couldn’t let it out. Thought the anticipation lied with handing the meal to Steve, now feeling his breath caught even more now that he had. It was the anticipation of not knowing. He had to know.

But Steve left with the cookie still intact.

So he had to wait.

- : -

Steve brought his lunch into Family Video. The same thing he always ordered. Feeling a warm sensation in his chest at the knowledge that Billy knew his order. Fried rice and soup dumplings. Robin was there, waiting to mooch off of his food since she never bothered to bring her own lunch, but would also refuse to let Steve buy her anything.

If he didn’t know any better he’d think she liked him.

But he did know better not even to entertain that idea. She was just the girl who liked to eat Steve’s food because that’s just what she did. She’s standing there with her grabby hands, ready to start digging into his rice. She peruses through the contents of the bag and pulls out the plastic containers and the one fortune cookie that he always got.

“Did you let her down easy?” Robin asks, waving the cookie in his face.

“Yes. She was weird about it. But I guess she took it well.”

“Well that’s good. Can I have this one then?”

“Sure. Go for it. I don’t like them all that much anyway. I just like them for the fortunes.”

“Well then let’s see what Steve Harrington’s fortune is today, shall we?”

Robin cracks it open and gently pulls the slip of paper out from inside. Popping the cookie into her mouth as she pulls it taut so she can read it.

Her eyes squint. She pulls it closer to her face, just inches away like she can’t see what she’s reading. Like she’s confused.

“What’s it say?”

“Umm.” She just shakes her head. Mouth still full with the fortune cookie as she passes it along to Steve.

He takes it from her hesitantly, and a look of confusion washes over his face as he reads the words.

“I’m not Elizabeth Li.”

“What?” He says it mostly to himself, because what the fuck?

He turns it over and is expecting to see the same little signature. The vague ‘the cookie maker’ with the tiny heart.

Well the heart is still there.

But it says something else.

- Billy ♡

“Holy shit.”

- : -

It’s a painstakingly long rest of his shift. Doing the same old boring jobs like cleaning up, manning the front counter, and bussing tables when he’d finished the daily batch of cookies. It usually felt like a long five hours, but today it was excruciating. He could feel Zach and Liz’s eyes on him the whole time. Like they were watching intently so they didn’t miss the moment where he inevitably exploded from all the anxiety in his chest.

Billy’s constantly playing out different scenarios in his head. Steve barging into the store and punching him in the face being the one that’s the most prevalent. Occasionally letting himself get slightly hopeful and imagining the opposite.

But there was a third scenario he considered. That Steve just wouldn’t come back at all. Let him down by not even bringing him up. Robbing him of the closure he needs. He’d rather Steve just punch him in the face. That was a kind of rejection he could handle. One that gave him a reason to let go. Not one that left him hanging on by a single thread.

His shift is quickly coming to an end and he’s debating on how desperate he is to wait and linger around the restaurant with his small shred of hope that he comes back. His neck hurts from jerking his head towards the door every time the bell chimed. Hoping to see the boy with the chestnut hair walk through only to be greeted by another local he refused to learn the name of.

He’s losing his goddamn mind and he needs a fucking cigarette.

His shift comes to an end and he clocks out. Escaping to the back of the restaurant behind the dumpsters, lighting up a Marlboro Red and sinking his weight against the brick siding of the building. Feeling himself shiver when the heat of the flame warms the tip of his nose. Breathing in the smoke trying to regain some sense of calm that completely left his body as soon as he handed the bag to Steve. Too many hours on this high alert feeling that he can’t even recall what relaxation feels like anymore. Just accepts the burning in his lungs in the cold outside weather with just the hum of low traffic and the sound dripping gutters as the closest thing he’s going to get to that for the time being.

Finishing his cigarette, he tosses the bud into a puddle. Dragging a hand over his face as he prepares to walk back into the crowded restaurant that would feel completely empty because it was lacking the one fucking person he wanted to see.

He could go see him.

No he couldn’t. The ball already was in Steve’s court.

He opens the door and Zach is standing right there like he was waiting for him.

“What the fuck dude?”

“No. Shut up. Someone is in the break room waiting for you.”

Billy doesn’t get the chance to register his words before he’s being grabbed by the collar of his shirt and dragged and pushed into the room, where Steve is sitting at the table.

Just looking at him. Studying him.

“Look, Steve –“

“Stop.” He cuts him off. Continues to stare before hesitantly reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out what looks to be a ziplock plastic bag. Opening it and dumping the contents of it out on the table all while Billy is left standing there unable to speak, couldn’t even if Steve would let him. The ability to get words out being entirely suppressed by the sight of about ten slips of paper spread out on the table in front of Steve. Steve just looking back down at them and not looking back at Billy. Lost in another trance. He starts moving them around on the table. Moving them away from each other so that none are touching each other and they are all completely exposed. Steve smiles. Gets up from the chair.

Walks over to where Billy stands with his back pressed against the door, holding tightly to the handle for a quick escape. Steve moves so slowly, like he’s forging his plan with each step until their chests are just inches away from each other. Steve’s looking down, away from Billy’s gaze. Taking Billy’s hand in his, causing him to shudder. “You know I rushed over as soon as I could. Thanks for the lunch Billy.” Billy’s just silent and completely still against the door. Steve’s hold on him is loose yet he feels entirely restrained. “I can’t believe it was you.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy practically chokes on the words, prompting Steve to finally turn his eyes up toward him. Seeing how his eyes have grown glossy and his face has turned a pinkish color.

“What for?”

“That it was me.”

Steve squeezes his hand tighter, brings another to Billy’s cheek gently and Billy feels like he’s being suffocated under the touch. Like instead the hand is wrapped around his throat and pushing against his airway. But he leans into it. Steve’s touch is so soft and he lets his eyes fall shut to burn the sensation into his memory.

“Don’t apologize for that.”

His eyes are still closed when Steve moves forward and kisses him. Shooting open as soon as lips make contact and he suddenly stiffens like a board. It’s quick and chaste and he doesn’t get the opportunity to kiss back before it’s over.

“You can’t… you don’t –“

“But I do.”

“This isn’t a joke, Steve.”

“I agree.”

Billy’s left standing there. Rubbing at his lips that were just touching Steve with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Steve smirks, moves back into Billy’s space so his breath is hot against his mouth.

“You could kiss me, asshole.”

Billy doesn’t need to be asked twice.

[hellpark]

PIP: Oh, and all the torturing in hell stopped years ago, I assure you!

PIP: We made sure everybody gets a happy afterlife, even those deemed “sinners.”

PIP: Sinners is such a silly term, isn’t it?

PIP: A mere lack of faith, a few wrong gestures in life, or even simply dying at the wrong time is all it could take to send you downwards!

PIP: Funny, huh?

PIP: I mean this all in the least threatening way, of course.

PIP: You still have your whole life ahead of you, and all!

PIP: But you can take it from me, you don’t ever need to worry about whether or not you’ll be happy when you die.

PIP: There’s so much more to each and every afterlife, why I’d say hell is even better than heaven at this point!

PIP: Don’t even worry about where you are when you die. You’ll enjoy it either way.

PIP: Oops, that sounds a little strange, doesn’t it?

PIP: Moreso, I meant you’ll be happy after death, of course.

PIP: Maybe not so much the dying bit.

PIP: That still hurts.

PIP: It hurts after death too, even!

PIP: Just be prepared for that, I suppose!

THE COOL AND EPIC WAITRESS, HEIDI: Wow.

HEIDI: That’s really interesting.

PIP: It really is, isn’t it?

PIP: There’s just so much to the afterlife you don’t even consider before you die, it’s really quite amazing!

PIP: If I weren’t in a hurry, I’d tell you all about it!

HEIDI: Oh, you’re in a hurry?

HEIDI: A hurry?

HEIDI: Wow.

HEIDI: Well, better take your order then, and fast, right?

PIP: I suppose you’re right!

PIP: Why don’t we let our friend Tweek here order first.

PIP: This is his first time at Denny’s, you know!

HEIDI: Wow your friend’s name is Tweek, that’s really unique.

HEIDI: What can I get for you, sir.

TWEEK: I don’t know what any of this is.

HEIDI: That’s food, sir.

TWEEK: Well what about this picture of a cup?

HEIDI: That’s coffee, sir.

TWEEK: That’s a funny name for a cup.

HEIDI: It’s just the name of the drink.

TWEEK: Wow you guys really... drink stuff other than lava, huh. Like I thought that was kind of weird at that school place, but I thought it was a weird ritualistic thing or something?

TWEEK: And I thought Pip was just lying to me.

HEIDI: Yep.

HEIDI: Yep we do.

HEIDI: We really, really do.

TWEEK: Um, okay, I think I want to try this then.

TWEEK: “Coffee.”

HEIDI: Of course, sir.

HEIDI: And for your... um.

HEIDI: ...Kid?

TWEEK: Kid?

PIP: (The imp that followed us, my friend.)

TWEEK: Oh--

TWEEK: Right.

TWEEK: I guess I have a kid.

TWEEK: I mean I know I have a kid.

TWEEK: This is something I know for sure, positively.

HEIDI: Yes, I’m sure you do.

HEIDI: What does your kid want to eat.

TWEEK: I don’t know.

TWEEK: What do kids eat?

TWEEK: (Actually wait can she even eat? I never ate when I was that young...)

HEIDI: Might I recommend the endless pancakes for four dollars.

TWEEK: ENDLESS?

TWEEK: Do the pancakes keep coming back?????

HEIDI: Pretty much, yep.

TWEEK: Oh my god that sounds horrifying.

TWEEK: ...

TWEEK: ...Yes please.

HEIDI: Great.

HEIDI: And for you, sir??????

PIP: Just an iced tea, please and thank you!

HEIDI: Alright.

HEIDI: Coffee, a dish of endless pancakes, and iced tea. Is that all for tonight?

PIP: I believe so, yes!

HEIDI: I’ll get right to it and leave you three alone.

PIP: Thank you so much!

PIP: Well, Tweek, I never thought I’d see the day!

PIP: You’re actually willing to try something other than lava and rocks?

PIP: I mean, I know I was the one who brought you here, but I figured you’d abstain from the generosity-- as you are wont to do.

TWEEK: This stuff is meant to stay up here on the surface.

TWEEK: If I’m on the surface, then I’ll do whatever I’m meant to do on the surface.

PIP: But... you’re allowed to eat and drink in hell, Tweek.

PIP: You have for years now.

TWEEK: You made it so it was allowed.

TWEEK: It was never allowed before you came around.

TWEEK: I’ll never give into this new era bullshit you’ve brought to hell.

TWEEK: Cause it’s just not meant for hell.

PIP: Oh, you’re just too silly.

PIP: But there’s no use in arguing anymore, I suppose.

PIP: You seem so much more fascinated with the overworld, you’re just too stubborn to want these kinds of luxuries in your own home.

TWEEK: Can you stop trying to analyze me?

PIP: I don’t think I’m analyzing you, I think you’ve just made yourself very clear over all these years.

PIP: Why not have some fun for a change?

TWEEK: Is your definition of fun running around telling everybody that we’re from hell?

TWEEK: I thought we were supposed to be discrete.

TWEEK: That’s all Gregory ever said we should be.

TWEEK: Discrete.

TWEEK: And none of you are even trying.

PIP: What’s the use now?

PIP: I tried to keep myself in for you earlier, but it just made me realise I care even less than I thought I did.

TWEEK: Cool!

TWEEK: Amazing!

TWEEK: People probably think you’re a freak!

TWEEK: People don’t look like this up here, so we should be fitting in with them, not flaunting what they fear.

PIP: Are you forgetting the song I sang to you on the way here?

TWEEK: Ugh, no, but don’t remind me.

TWEEK: I just...

TWEEK: We should be more careful, shouldn’t we???

TWEEK: Gregory said to be careful but then he turned around and just... outed me like he did, and...

TWEEK: Estella’s just running around murder happy...

TWEEK: Thomas can’t even hold his form, and--

TWEEK: God we shouldn’t even be here.

TWEEK: We shouldn’t be doing this.

PIP: Tweek, really.

PIP: You shouldn’t worry so much, and you shouldn’t hide who you are.

PIP: What’s it matter if a waitress knows what you are?

PIP: What’s it matter if the people behind you know what you are?

TWEEK: It matters because--

TWEEK: Wait, people behind me?

TWEEK: Oh shit I forgot there were other people here--

TWEEK: I--

TWEEK: Woah.

TWEEK: Uhh...

TWEEK: (Oh god they’re all looking at me.)

TWEEK: hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TWEEK: What’s going on!

TWEEK: I think I saw you at school today, right?

TWEEK: Hi, I’m new here.

TWEEK: Is that coffee you’re all drinking?

TWEEK: How is it?

TWEEK: I’m about to try some for the first time.

TWEEK: Is it like, a local thing?

TWEEK: You guys are just staring at me, should I just stare back, or--

PIP: Don’t mind him all too much, he’s from hell!

PIP: Nice to see you all again, by the by!

TWEEK: Um, those are fake horns and wings and teeth by the way, he’s just playing pretend.

PIP: Nope, all authentic!

PIP: I died and came back, I did!

TWEEK: (cool. cool. cool.)

TWEEK: (This is so awesome.)

TWEEK: (At least I’m keeping weirdos like you away from those guys back at the barn...)

PIP: What was that, dear friend?

TWEEK: Ugh, nothing...

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The Bunad: roots of a nationalist symbol

The bunad is a Norwegian folk costume which exists in many regional varieties. A symbol of rootedness and belonging both local and national, the bunad is ubiquituous on Constitution Day, 17 May, but it is also used at other festive occasions. Although it is far more widespread among women than men, male bunads have become common in some social circles.

Can anyone wear a bunad? Is it a real bunad if it is made in China? Is it a symbol of origin and roots or a nationalistic symbol?

It is estimated that Norwegians own altogether 2.5 million bunads, worth more than 40 billion kroner (€500 million). In other words, one in two citizens owns a bunad, and they are expensive garments with embroideries and filigree silver ornaments, consisting of several components often including aprons, headdresses, scarves or shawls. You could easily buy a few prestigious and beautiful dresses from famous designers for the cost of a single bunad. Moreover, bunad ownership and use has grown fast in the last few decades.

The increased popularity of bunads could be put down to the growing prosperity of the population of oil-rich Norway in general. But this is hardly the whole story. A symbol of Norwegianness, rootedness and regional origins, wearing a bunad is a statement about identity. Non-Norwegians are often puzzled by its widespread use, since folk dresses are associated with minorities in other parts of Europe. Perhaps the Norwegian identity is essentially a minority identity, even though independence was achieved through a bloodless secession from the Swedish–Norwegian union in 1905.

The ongoing story of the bunad is complex and involves claims and counter-claims about authenticity, the feared and respected ‘bunad police’ and a vivid popular discourse about who has the moral right to wear which bunad. The right not to wear a bunad is generally tolerated, but there is no strong and visible cosmopolitan discourse dismissing the widespread love of folk costumes as antediluvian, reactionary, nationalist and possibly racist. Yet there is no consensus concerning which dresses should be classified as sufficiently authentic and what the criteria are and it has led to controversies.

The bunad is a particular kind of festive dress. The term is a neologism based on an archaic dialect word, introduced in urban circles by the author and nationalist activist Hulda Garborg in her pamphlet Norsk klædebunad in 1903. Writing during a feverish phase of Norwegian nationalism just ahead of independence, Garborg argued the need for a truly Norwegian and regional form of formal dress. She collected and systematised what she saw as intact and useful regional bunad traditions, and even designed some bunads herself. Interestingly, Garborg never denied the syncretic and partly invented character of the new, traditionalist folk costume. She nevertheless emphasised its role as a marker of rural, Norwegian identity.

A relevant distinction can be drawn between a bunad and a folk costume. Folk costumes are everyday and festive clothes which were traditionally worn by peasants in southern Norway, and – like certain kinds of peasant food – have been recontextualised and upgraded more recently as formal dress. Bunads, on the contrary, are reconstructed and re-designed – sometimes very nearly purely invented – costumes designed from the early 20th century onwards, and are used at occasions such as Christmas Eve, Constitution Day, weddings and other major social events, although not at funerals: bunads are bright and joyful garments. Some bunads represent minor adjustments (‘upgradings’ and modernisations) of the original folk costume, while the link is less obvious or absent in other cases.

The bunad is an important traditionalist symbol of modern Norwegianness. Most of these costumes are related to regional and minority folk costumes from Central and Eastern Europe, and the German influence has often been commented upon. More importantly, the bunad confirms Norwegian identity as an essentially rural one, where personal integrity is linked to roots and regional origins. However, 18th and 19th century peasants would often wear European-style dress at formal occasions such as weddings, or they might wear a folk costume, which gradually went out of use. In other words, there is a clear element of modern invention, which nobody denies, not only in the currently widespread use of bunads, but also in their design.

What exactly, then, is a bunad? One possible answer widely accepted is: a festive dress associated with a regional Norwegian tradition, accepted by the Bunad and Folk Costume Council as such, and widely recognised as a bunad by the public. Its popularity as a symbol of tradition has increased proportionally with the modernisation and urbanisation of Norway in the last hundred years, thereby saying something essential about the politics and poetics of identity in modern societies, where the quest for rootedness in the past increases with de facto uprootedness.

In contemporary society, many if not most individuals have two, three or four options: they can legitimately wear a bunad designed in the place where they live, in the place where they grew up, or in one of their parents’ places of origin. They cannot, however, legitimately wear a bunad from wherever they fancy. Of course, they could buy it, but their friends and relatives might frown.

Norwegians who live in the heart of urban cities and have no real rural roots are sometimes unaware of people in the heart of Bunad Norway who are deeply offended. These rural Norwegians as they see it have no time for West End ladies who claim Telemark ancestry when they buy the perhaps greatest status symbol of all bunads, namely the expensive and exclusive East Telemark bunad. They also disapprove of people wearing gold chains and earrings with their bunads.

There are frequent conflicts over authenticity framed within the bunad discourse itself. In the valley of Numedal, competition between two alternative bunads actually led to the creation of two distinct factions in the 17 May parade of 2002. Family members fell out with each other; local politicians groped for compromises. One of the alternatives, a simple folk costume, is woven in dark fabrics; the complex, reconstructed bunad sanctioned by the Bunad and Folk Costume Council is much more elaborate and colourful. The defenders of the simple costume argue that the new one, ‘overloaded with silver and embroideries’, is inappropriate and clearly inauthentic for a traditionally poor mountain valley; while the other faction see the simple bunad as sordid and joyless. Both factions claimed that their bunad was the most ancient one. The colourful and expensive alternative won in the end.

The bunad stirs up strong emotions. After the 17 May celebrations in 2001, Queen Sonja was criticised in public for wearing sunglasses with her bunad; in the same year, Crown Princess Mette-Marit was severely reprimanded in the press for wearing a purely invented ‘fantasy costume’ rather than an authentic bunad from her home region. She has since made amends, and now has several bunads to choose between (legitimate in her case, being princess of the whole realm), including an elaborate bunad from her home county of Vest-Agder in the far south of the country. Women are generally advised by the Bunad and Folk Costume Council not to wear makeup and earrings with their bunad.

Because of the wealth of detail, a proper bunad cannot be made industrially in its entirety. This partly accounts for its high market price. Moreover, the knowledge and skill required to make a bunad is considered a cultural, local form of knowledge – a kind of inalienable possession. In the spring of 2002, a conflict erupted between the traditionalists and a young entrepreneur who wanted a slice of the market. This conflict inadvertently brought the implicit ideology underlying the bunad to the public eye. The controversy is still alive today, with cultural arguments overlapping with the economic ones.

What happened was this. A young Norwegian of Chinese origin, who originally worked as a cook, began to take an interest in bunads. He took a bunad course, learning the basics of the craft. Before going into business, he changed his name from Aching to John Helge Dahl, realising that he would have little credibility as a bunad salesman with a Chinese name. (The current owner of the company founded by Dahl is nevertheless called You Hong Bei.)

Dahl founded a company called ‘Norske Bunader’ (Norwegian bunads), and then he did the outrageous thing, namely to contract dozens of Chinese seamstresses in Shanghai to do the stitching and embroidery. The fabrics were sent from Norway, and the completed garments were returned – at a much lower price than that of the Norwegian competition. He built the bunads himself. ‘To most people, it is the quality that counts,’ he says, ‘not who has done the embroidery’. Of course, he can offer bunads at a competitive price.

The Bunad and Folk Costume Council reacted strongly against Mr. Dahl, as did Husfliden. At one point the latter threatened to sue him for plagiarism, but since bunad designs are not copyrighted, they were likely to lose a court case. Their argument was that the craft amounted to a locally embedded kind of knowledge which did not travel well, comparing it to dialects. Talking about mass production and industrialisation of bunad production, they argued that the use of foreign labour leads to cultural flattening. The resulting products were said to have no hau, to use the anthropologist Marcel Mauss’s term for the ‘soul’ of an object.

Opinions bitterly divided people. Many who defended the traditionalists said that this concerns ‘personal knowledge’. Bunad embroidery was a kind of handwriting. They argued that when anyone can take a pattern, send it abroad, and make a good profit from the product, people will ask: ‘What is it that I am spending one or two months’ salary on?’ Many argued that this kind of garment would feel alienating, and that it would not satisfy people’s emotional need to build their own history into the garment.

Another argument concerns the low salaries in China, claiming that it was immoral to hire ‘underpaid women’ to do this kind of work. Dahl’s Shanghai seamstresses were paid what he described as a good salary in China, but which is a fraction of a comparable Norwegian salary. Yet others have said that it may be acceptable to employ immigrant women living in Norway, who may have assimilated some local skills, but not to employ foreign women living abroad.

Although the Dahl case was spectacular in that it simultaneously brought out both accusations of racism and controversy concerning criteria for authenticity, his business innovation was less original than it might seem. Several producers admit that they outsource parts of their production to the Baltic countries and elsewhere where wages are low, and even Husfliden has admitted that parts of their bunads are made industrially because of the high cost of labour in Norway.

The anxieties voiced by the critics of the outsourcing of bunad production are threefold: In a thoroughly neo-liberal society (anyone can wear what she wants; anyone can design and make bunads anywhere in the world), national identity suffers because regional roots are severed; economic interests suffer because prices go down; and the personal or emotional pole of the user suffers since the garments lose their special quality.

In what exactly does this ‘special quality’ consist? What is the nature of the considerable personal capital invested into clothes?

What is reaped from this investment is a handsome profit, an enhanced sense of community and visible boundaries to the outside world. Cultural property of this kind is intangible, it is legally oblique, and it is poised to lose against both the brisk efficiency of contemporary capitalism and against the individualism of free choice.

So the main question as I see it: is what price your heritage? 

Put your secret/sacred knowledge online, and the spell is immediately broken.

This kind of knowledge has to be scarce, localised and difficult to obtain, or it loses its magic qualities. Beyond pricing policies and profits, this is what stirs the souls of the people who care about the national and regional provenance of their bunad. Had they chosen a Dior dress instead, or a pair of blue jeans and a nice T-shirt, the problem would not have arisen.

Still critics argue why all the fuss? The Bunad is no different from what a kilt is to a Scotsman or a lederhosen is to the Bavarian or a sari is to an Indian. Yes and no. Each of these have differing degrees of exclusivity and symbology.

The kilt arguably was an English invention to control the Highland clans. But it became something else - a national symbol of being loyal to clan, crown and country. It used to be people only wore kilts if they had a hereditary claim to that tartan but nowadays no one really cares what tartan you wear (much to the chagrin of older generations). The lederhosen has always been a regional symbol not a national one but has been ‘McDonalised’ to an Oktoberfest fancy dress costume party. The sari is an interesting example that remains a distinctly Indian national symbol but can also now be readily worn by anyone around the world - just as well as I love wearing saris at Indian weddings and when I lived in India. But the Bunad is different because of its own distinct roots that has never left its national borders. The Bunad is a living tapestry and its threads can’t be simply out sourced to other countries.

One’s heritage should never be outsourced. To the anti-traditionalist naysayers I would say that the bunad is a special kind of garment saturated with symbolism and existential significance; it is from somewhere, not from anywhere. It’s Norwegian, born and bred.

[altomath42]

High 11 Vacationer Points Of Interest In Azerbaijan

According to 2012, about 285 thousand individuals stay within the metropolis, many of which work in the industrial sector. Gradually, the chemical industry was not the main business of the town; In Sumgait, at present there are massive machine builders, meals processing companies, in addition to the main centers that produce the constructing supplies. During your trip, you should definitely combine your favorite entertainments with visiting outlets and markets of Azerbaijan. Here, you can buy luxurious silk of the local manufacturing, beautiful ceramic objects and local craftsmen’s masterpieces. One of the largest craft markets of the country is positioned in the historic district of Baku. In the suburban district of the capital, there is the Carpet Center. Working alongside the native operators from around the world, we curate travel content material, products and services, ensuring our clients are properly knowledgeable and simply ready to decide on the proper experience for them. We deliver solely one of the best to our prospects, with all TES Tour products handpicked by our skilled travel staff. All nights in carefully-selected, high quality assured campsites and hotels including distinctive, independently-owned boutiques. Traditional Azerbaijani tea is served with nationwide sweets and jam. The tea table is embellished with a plate of colourful jams, nuts, honey, and pastry. Park Visagov provides you with a straightforward and easy system to obtain it thanks to our simplified utility kind for Azerbaijan e-Visa that takes you solely about 5 minuts to finish. The e-Visa allows you to visit Azerbaijan for up to 30 days utilizing solely on-line application as an alternative of visiting the embassy. Many of the world’s largest and most recognizable lodge chains have a presence in Baku. This is good information for guests who fancy the familiar in relation to trip accommodations. This is in part due to the curiosity known as Yanar Dag, or Fire Mountain. At the bottom of this quite modest hill, natural gas flames burn constantly. It's a landmark garden-park in the heart of old Baku with an artwork fountain and cafe, about 2 blocks from the Caspian Sea, masking a 2 acre city block. Azerbaijan can be identified for its mud volcanoes – nearly 400 of them concentrated in a comparatively small region outdoors the capital and near the Caspian Sea. These pure wonders are brought on by tectonic movement that enables subterranean gases to leak to the surface. The metropolis heart features examples of Soviet classicist buildings, just like the City Hall , alongside historic mosques and hammams, as nicely as 19th century red-brick structures. The Gizilaghaj Nature Reserve, situated in the Lankaran District alongside the southeast Caspian coast, is the most important protected area in the entire nation. Encompassing greater than 300 sq. miles, it's house to some 270 species of birds, together with swans, pelicans, geese, herons, ibises, spoonbills, geese, and flamingos. Ateshgah Fire Temple Close To Baku Azerbaijan Inventory Photograph Because of this, the earth was losing resources; the lights of the temple started to weaken progressively. We decided that this could be a curse of heaven and progressively left Atashgah. In 1880, the final Hindu, who lived in Ateshgah, went to India, and in 1902 the previous fire went out. 1850 – the start line of the model new historical past of the village, when Surakhan touched the oil boom and oilmen from all round the Empire started to collect here. Over time, earthquakes have altered the format of the three,000 caves and corridors that existed in Tamara’s time. Frescoes in the caves that remain represent the top of the Golden Age of Georgian portray; amongst them are portraits of King Giorgi and Queen Tamara. In the villages, homes are backed up against each other with one household's roof serving as another's terrace, and so on up the hill. This part of Georgia historically suffered from international invasions, and the structure allowed defenders to retreat via the maze of interconnected houses if necessary. Enjoy dinner this evening with conventional Azeri musical leisure. 居家 -known kind is mugham, a fusion of Persian and Turkic traditions honored as a World Cultural Masterpiece by UNESCO. Government-linked Azerbaijani scholars formally argue that Armenians didn't even seem within the territory of recent Azerbaijan until the 19th century, regardless of the presence of 1000's of sacred Christian and pagan Armenian sites. Azerbaijani politicians have relabeled the latter, which encompass largely churches and cross-stones, as “Caucasian Albanian,” in reference to a now extinct nation that's identified predominantly by way of Armenian historical past texts. In 1925, a Zoroastrian priest and academic Jivanji Jamshedji Modi traveled to Baku to determine if the temple had indeed been as quickly as a Zoroastrian place of worship. Toronto, Ontario BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir Toronto This Hindu temple is an architectural marvel designed and constructed in accordance with ancient Indian ideas. German traveler Lerch who visited the temple in 1733, wrote that here there are 12 Guebres or ancient Persian fireplace worshipers». Samuel Gottlieb Gmelin's Reise durch Russland is cited in Karl Eduard von Eichwald's Reise in den Caucasus the place the naturalist Gmelin is claimed to have noticed Yogi austerities being carried out by devotees. Geologist Eichwald restricts himself to a point out of the worship of Rama, Krishna, Hanuman and Agni. Japanese Public Bathhouses Deny Entry To Tourists With Tattoos Experience the most effective Chinese tea house tradition in Chengdu if you go to the Old Tea House in Pengzhen. Our adopted dog, Ginger, came to see us off on the bus cease after we left for KaşPamukkale is one of the primary tourist sights in Turkey and is nicely connected to different cities within the nation. The nearest airport is Denizli Çardak within the city of Denizli, which is about 20 km away. Ali, the proprietor, always provided us a Turkish espresso or tea on the home after our meals. Like virtually anyplace else in Turkey you’ll find a cat patiently ready for scraps whenever you look beneath your desk. You really ought to go and expertise the food and atmosphere at the White House. Vestiges of Roman bathing types could be seen within the manifestation of the three-room structure, which was widespread through the Roman/Byzantine period. Room at the Baños del Almirante, a historic Andalusi bathhouse in Valencia, Spain (c. Hammam complexes typically contain separate quarters for women and men; or men and women are admitted at separate occasions. On many occasions they became locations of leisure (such as dancing and food, especially in the girls's quarters) and ceremonies, similar to before weddings, high-holidays, celebrating newborns, magnificence trips. Historic underground bathhouse complex, dating from the 17th century, in the Icheri Sheher old city of Baku.Baku, Azerbaijan – July 4, 2020. Historic underground bathhouse complex, dating from the seventeenth century, within the Icheri Sheher old town of Baku. Next, head via the door to the washing space and straight to the showers. Take a seat on one of many tiny stools and wash your whole physique. Most places have shampoo and body wash available, in any other case be at liberty to soak up your own. Be sure to rinse off all of the cleaning soap and shampoo – you shouldn’t get any in the baths. However, as time goes by, the spring turns into weaker and weaker. There is a one-hour kora route in Tirthapuri which is fascinating to follow. Although far fewer in quantity than in earlier centuries, many Turkish hammams are nonetheless operating today and proceed to be relevant to each locals and vacationers. Some have been lately restored or modernized with various levels of historic authenticity. Other hammam buildings have ceased functioning as public baths but have been carefully repurposed as markets or cultural venues, as for instance the Tahtakale Hamam in Istanbul and the Orhan Bey Hamam in Bursa. In some instances hammam buildings have been repurposed as storage depots or factories, though this has often led to neglect and damage to their historic cloth. Azerbaijan Art Work to collect exhibits and gadgets began in 1967, and in 1972 the first visitors might see the rare displays collected within the museum. It is a posh the place, along with the palace itself, can be found a courtyard of the Diwankhana, the courthouse, the Shirvanshahs’ burial vault, the palace mosque of 1441 with its minaret, the bathhouse and the mausoleum of the court scholar, Sayid Yahya Bakuvi. Its origins date again to the 1830s when it began as a small area of fruit timber which steadily expanded with ever more exotic plants and trees until by the top of the century it had developed into a fully fledged city park. Today it is nonetheless one of the nice spots within the city to go for a stroll. Baku is the capital and largest metropolis of Azerbaijan, in addition to the most important city on the Caspian Sea and of the Caucasus region. Baku is situated 28 metres under sea degree, which makes it the bottom lying nationwide capital on the earth and in addition the biggest metropolis on the earth located below sea level. It's transformed to museum and the old utensils, jewelry and other art is on show. Education The A. Azimzade State College of Fine Arts, Baku and the State University of Arts, Baku. Exhibitions Involved in a quantity of international art exhibitions and symposiums. Collections In high demand by private collectors in Europe and UAE, where his art is having fun with growing recognition; Active since 1987. 6 Awesome Outdoor Activities In Baku The tallest of the three is a 39-story residential luxury house building. I would undoubtedly advocate you to go there at sunrise or sundown as you’ll have a unbelievable view of the harbor and the Caspian Sea. It’s a fairly comfortable climb up the steps however you can even get there by taking the funicular. Baku actually is a metropolis the place old meets new – historical fortified buildings standing subsequent to Russian imperial-style squares and ultra-modern architectural wonders. Your adventure begins with a welcome meeting at 6 pm within the night, where you will meet your native leader and fellow travellers joining you for this adventure. Relax and revel in a restful evening, with your welcome dinner scheduled for tomorrow night to permit all travellers to attend. Your next destination will be the place, which is important for nature lovers – Nohur Lake. Around this fascinating nature, the lake reflects the Greater Caucasus Mountains in its green-blue waters. After having full day's impressions on the end of the day, you'll return to Baku. Popular pure attractions close by embrace the Nohur Lake and the Seven Beuaties waterfall. With doors to workshops open to the road and old stone homes, the over 1,000-year-old Lahic is sort of a residing open-air museum. My favorite thing in the space was visiting Kish, a little hamlet just north of Sheki and easily reachable by a 20-minute bus experience. It’s residence to the Kish Albanian Church , the oldest Christian church in Azerbaijan , and surrounded by many a mystery. Now the charming church is an interesting site to go to and has a small tri-lingual museum. Perhaps essentially the most unique tourist web site in the metropolis is the Bottle House – a home that’s construct out of forty eight,000 glass bottles. The heartbreakingly lovely backstory to this unique constructing is that it serves as a memorial to its creators brother wh went lacking in the course of the Second World War. Getting Enjoyable In Azerbaijan Famous Festivals, Celebrations And Cultural Events On June sixteen in the complicated My Beach Novkhani throughout the framework of the We Color Festival there will be a colourful leisure program, contests, an evening disco and a salute. You are waiting for 2 unforgettable summer season days on the island of KHAZAR ISLANDS. Tons of colorful powder, 1000's of joyful faces, leisure for each taste. Old friends and new acquaintances, brilliant feelings and pleasant memories, favourite music and sizzling dances is not going to let you down this summer season in Baku. Any other use of these supplies without prior written authorization isn't very good and violates the copyright. This article about national fests and celebrations of Azerbaijan is protected by the copyright law. You can re-use the content, but only beneath the situation of placement of an active link to By utilizing the mobile software of the Festival it will be possible to find out details about the events taking place within its framework. Information on events at Nasimi Festival in Azerbaijan available via mobile software. Shusha metropolis was occupied by Armenian Armed Forces in 1992 and liberated from Armenian occupation in the Second Karabakh warfare. International advocacy groups often rate Azerbaijan as essentially the most inhospitable place in Europe for queer people, and the scenario has been exacerbated by the COVID-19 lockdown. Generally there shall be massive dinners with conventional meals corresponding to Plov, however essentially the most notable tradition for Nowruz in Azerbaijan is the pastries. The Czech program of the competition was put together by Miroslava Janičatová, who is also included in the International Festival Jury. Meanwhile, greater than 20 live shows are scheduled to happen in multiple venues across the capital metropolis, with most of them held within the Rotunda Jazz Club. She has been taught by many well-known musicians and teachers corresponding to Faig Zohrabov. Aygun is now a beloved Azerbaijani singer in Toronto, the place she has had quite a few performances. Arta is a grade 10 high school scholar and the youngest member of TAMDE’s music group. He has been playing the piano since 2009 and the saxophone since 2013. Arta has also been a member of Aurora High School’s symphonic band as a saxophone player for 2 years. Azerbaijan Frustrated at not having the power to discover any items that truly reflected Azerbaijani tradition and traditions, we decided to make our own. We use solely the highest high quality supplies and our artists are commissioned by us to create their own distinctive interpretation of Azerbaijani motifs. We need both our customers and suppliers to be satisfied. Each set has it’s personal story to share; and each story will assist you to study Azerbaijani individuals, their habits, folklore and traditions. Our ardour is to produce stunning gadgets which you will proceed to enjoy for months and years. This article about buying in Azerbaijan is protected by the copyright regulation. An exclusive assortment of world-famous stores within the heart of downtown Charleston. From Godiva to Gucci, the ultimate purchasing experience & the finest selections within the city. A visit to this speciality shop is a must should you want to buy the very greatest quality edible stuff from Azerbaijan. AIRBORNE MIKEFORCE VIETNAM Military Veteran US ARMY Hat Pin P14723 EE. Barack Obama Autographed Repro PHOTO First Pitch Washington Nationals Signed Pic. Halloween Inflatable Blow in Pumpkin Up Outdoor Yard Halloween LED Lights Decor. ALIEN at the cafe coffee store artwork tile coaster gift presents. Classic Matte Black Bullet Pen with Clip Fisher Space Pen # 400BCL. Local Eating Places & Price Range Cafes In Downtown Baku But it turned out to be quite onerous to search out locations that have been open on weekend mornings. We did discover a few and managed to benefit from the conventional Azeri breakfast very much. Some of the most typical Azeri dishes like kebab or tea can be discovered elsewhere however in Azerbaijan they appeared to style better. Do not leave the nation without attempting some of the following dishes and then some extra fascinating and fascinating information about Azerbaijan for somewhat aspect of tradition with your meal. Expect to enjoy it with saffron and cinnamon plus a lot of dried fruits like apricot or even dates and chestnuts. Rice will usually be served with meat, mostly mutton or lamb that are the favorite combinations. However, the inside of this Azerbaijani restaurant is homey. Built out of heavy wood beams, the broad room is set with sturdy picnic tables designed for crowds. Try the smoked eggplant salad chock full of peppers.Servers are matter-of-fact, especially in the event that they assume you’ve ordered too much food. Azerbaijani pilaf ($13.50, below) was extremely beneficial to us by the server, and was quite totally different from another versions from Central Asia. Instead of a mixture, the non-rice components are plated next to the rice, and embrace a hearty helping of dried plums, cherries, and apricots with the tender lamb. Cis & Cee Capital Markets Conference 2018 Taking under consideration the worldwide expertise, a draft Law on Electricity has been ready. The government plans to permit Independent mills to enter the sector and purchase present power vegetation or construct new ones. The potential privatisation of strategic assets could not adversely have an result on power sustainability and safety. In the meantime, both countries have accused one another of shelling civilian targets. Azerbaijan claims that Armenian forces in Nagorno-Karabakh have been shelling Ganja to disrupt the flow of oil and gasoline. From 2007 to 2020, the common annual progress price of worth to Russia amounted to -X%. Being a detailed partner of Bilesim International Research & Consultancy, ERA continually complied with the codes and guidelines of ESOMAR â The World Association of Research Professionals. In additiond to this, ERA Marketing Center obtained license for manufacturing and sales of TGI project in Azerbaijan. TGI is a fast-growing, global community of single-source market research surveys performed in 60 nations of the world across 6 continents since Sixties. News, consulting firms, tasks, analysis and developments within the consultancy industry of Azerbaijan. By late 2010, FIRST consultants prepared and introduced a complete capital market assessment report and Capital Market Development Strategic Plan. Sunday the twenty seventh of September 2020, fighting flared up again within the South Caucasus between Armenia and Azerbaijan. The most recent war has displaced tens of 1000's of citizens in primarily Nagorno-Karabakh and tons of of troopers have misplaced their lives. While the human prices are super, Europe’s energy safety is also in danger. Azerbaijan Family Travel Whether you’re in search of mountains or sea, cities or countryside, you’ll discover plenty to explore in Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan was such an amazing, fantastic, stunning, and pleasant place. In tiny villages, older men with canes sat in town squares gazing at passersby. To get to Alinja Castle, I advocate you ask your lodging to rent a taxi driver for a half-day journey to Alinja Castle in addition to Ashab-I Kehf Cave, our subsequent destination. It ought to value no greater than 60 AZN for a roundtrip ride to Alinja Castle in addition to Ashab-I Kehf Cave. Sheki CityFound to the west of Baku, that is famed as one of the oldest human settlements in all the Caucasus and is said so far again 2500 years. Sheki City was a stop off on the Silk Road and was well-known for beautiful silks and different textiles. Azerbaijan, within the Caucuses area, is a rustic that straddles each Eastern Europe and Western Asia, so anticipate a conflict of east meets west and you can see a lot to enjoy right here. Located on the Caspian Sea, there are quaint subtropical seaside resorts, or you presumably can embrace Azerbaijan’s name because the Land of Fire with a visit to a flaming mountain or a mud volcano. Part of the Silk Road magical trail that took traders to its booming capital Baku on the Caspian Sea, Azerbaijan keeps you in your toes. Despite seeing themselves as Muslims, Azeri males typically drink alcoholic drinks, and this is broadly accepted, most likely due to the Russian and Soviet legacy . Unrest in Iran, Iraq and Syria in the 21st century has made the government very strict about non secular clothing and symbols and prompted higher secularization and stricter management of the southern borders. Any spiritual signs, flags, slogans in public and proselytizing for any faith are prohibited by regulation. Any violation will lead to fines, imprisonment, and in case of foreigners, deportation from the country. Don't assume that anyone you have no idea believes in God or has a passion for Islam or in other faiths. Investigations into folks's religion is largely unwelcome, and outdoors places of worship, displays of your religion ought to be kept personal. Hotels might provide this service for their visitors, however travellers are strongly advised to ensure the registration has been accomplished indeed as resorts are more than typically skip doing it. A visa just isn't required for stays of ninety days or less for citizens of Belarus, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Ukraine and Uzbekistan. — A beautiful metropolis within the forested Caucasus Mountains with heaps to see and do. It has one of many largest densities of cultural assets and monuments that span 2,seven-hundred years of Azerbaijani historical past. — Azerbaijan's second largest city has an extended history, some necessary sites and an attention-grabbing and manifold structure. Just just like the culture represents a singular mixture of traditions of neighboring international locations, national delicacies can additionally be an interesting mix of dishes. You will discover acquainted tastes in Azerbaijani cuisine with exotic names. 11 Things You Should Know About Azerbaijani Tradition But with a new and easy three-day visa service, reasonable costs and unbeatable hospitality, travelers that make it to the "Land of Fire" are often very pleasantly surprised. Straddling East and West, it blends dramatic landscapes with a folks and culture that replicate its fascinating location on the crossroads of Turkey, Russia and Iran. Most suppose it's possible to be a devout Muslim and still live in a contemporary society, and many additionally dismiss the concept that there may be an inherent antagonism between faith and science. While Huseynov was in limbo, Aliyev took his place as the chairman of the IRFS. He kept the operation going during its most difficult moments, shuttling between Azerbaijan and neighboring Georgia, where the outfit established new financial institution accounts. Finally, in June 2015, Huseynov escaped his residence nation, flying out with a Swiss authorities delegation that had attended the opening ceremony of the European Games. In divided Cyprus, a joint cultural-heritage fee of Greek and Turkish Cypriots was created in 2012 to take care of endangered monuments on either side of the island. Development Program, the fee has been embraced by each communities for restoring church buildings as well as mosques and hamams, and ancient aqueducts and fortifications. Following recent arson attacks on mosques in Greek Cypriot territory, the Greek Orthodox neighborhood was quick to sentence the assailants. But in all of these cases, the United Nations, the United States and its European allies have remained largely mute. UNESCO, which is dependent upon lots of the offending governments for funding and support, has shown little interest in intervening. Azerbaijan Nightlife Baku Railway Station is the terminus for nationwide and worldwide rail links to the town. The Kars–Tbilisi–Baku railway, which directly connects Turkey, Georgia and Azerbaijan, started to be constructed in 2007 and opened in 2017. Given that they are located in an iconic Baku landmark, it’s no surprise that Fairmont Baku takes our top spot for luxury motels in the metropolis. They have great on-site amenities, together with a restaurant, massive spa space and even a nightclub! If you really wish to splash the money, look on further than Fairmont Baku. Our Clubs and Bars in Azerbaijan for guests from Vietnam contains suggestions on where to search out the most effective bars and clubs within the Azerbaijanis capital. Known for its high-end themed events Enerji Club offers a tasty menu, and spontaneous and unique exhibits. The ambiance here is vibrant with unbelievable DJ music only including to the atmosphere. The outdoors terrace through the summer season season is the perfect place to have a sundowner after work or chill with friends at the weekend.

[foodjusticeisus]

Food Justice & Food Sovereignty

This blog is all about food justice. So what is it? And what about food sovereignty? Food justice is “communities exercising their right to grow, sell, and eat healthy food” (We Repair, 2017). There is a focus on race and racial justice within the food justice system, which seeks to transform “the current food system including but not limited to disparities and inequities.” Food sovereignty, on the other hand, is “the right of the peoples and governments to choose the way food is produced and consumed in order to respect our livelihoods, as well as the policies that support this choice” (La Via Campesina, 2009). Some Indigenous rights activists say food sovereignty (FS) is a necessary precursor to food justice (FJ). According to K. Valentine Cadieux and Rachel Slocum (2015), FJ as a term and practice is more prevalent in the U.S., whereas FS is more advocated and practiced in the Global South. The authors even say that FJ workers in the United States still hold beliefs that they can work with the state to achieve the justice and relative autonomy they desire. There is certainly a sense of optimism that folks in the United States hold about the ability and willingness of institutions within this country to be accountable for injustices and inequalities. I believe that same sense of optimism is embedded in the belief that humans can technologically innovate our way out of anything, including climate change. Yet despite this optimism about state involvement that FJ workers may have, both food justice and food sovereignty exist in an oppositional relationship to the state. In addition, they both seek to institutionalize equity and control over the food system. Cadieux and Slocum (2015) also argue that bridging the two movements could include acts and goals such as “urban agriculture, food justice in marginalized communities, action being taken around land access and rents, and land grabs.” 

Food justice is often visualized as farmers’ markets in suburban areas and urban gardens, and perhaps the occasional groundbreaking advancement in public policy every few decades. While these are valid and welcomed acts (I mean, who doesn’t love fresh produce from local farmers being made available to more rural communities, or plots of beautiful and nutritious greenery in contrast with the built environment around it, grown by and for community members? And don’t even get me started on grassroots organizations asserting their place and passion in local or national politics to advocate for their communities), there is much more that goes into genuine FJ practice and realization. Food justice organizing occurs as 4 characteristics, Cadieux and Slocum (2015) propose: Trauma/Inequity, Exchange, Land, and Labor. The details of these organizing characteristics are explained below.

Trauma/Inequity: Recognition of structural relations of power through race, gender, and class privilege. There is an acknowledgement and confrontation of historical, collective social trauma that marginalized members have experienced. Seeks to enact policies that will repair past injustices and trauma that these marginalized members are still experiencing today.

Exchange: Designing mechanisms of exchange that will build communal reliance and control through cooperation, trust, and sharing economies.

Land: Creation of innovative and equitable ways to access, share, use, control, own, and manage land and other resources. Resources are understood in a way that does not solely center humans and human benefit. Application of agroecological land use practices that benefit humans and non-humans. Building on diverse knowledge systems to sustain communities, grow food, and create change.

Labor: Pursuing labor relations that value all workers and all types of labor through guaranteed livable income. This labor is not alienating, nor does it depend on unpaid social reproduction by women to work.

In order to practice food justice, Cadieux and Slocum (2015) articulate a process that posits the work as an authentic, educated, activist movement. In order to truly practice food justice, one  must understand how power is distributed, or specifically not distributed, in society. They must apply a progressive sense of place that embodies justice and equity. Policies and programs must be evaluated for their capacity, or lack thereof, to bring about systemic change. An FJ activist must also identify barriers and opportunities for FJ practice, consider when and how it is useful to engage or not with the state, the market, and other actors, and institutionalize equity in democratic participatory processes at all scales. All in all, Cadieux and Slocum (2015) explain that inequities must be undone, and there needs to be clarity around what it means to actually create socially just food systems.

[inspirationdivine]

Ruthless || Lydia and Ariana

Timing: Now Parties: @letsbenditlikebennett @inspirationdivine Summary: Ariana confronts Lydia Warnings: domestic abuse discussion, reference to gun use

The only thing stronger than the crushing guilt was the fiery anger that seemed to roar anytime Ariana dared to think of Lydia. Every ounce of common sense she had was telling her this was a terrible idea, but she didn’t care. The worst had already happened, what more could Lydia possibly do to hurt her? A large part of her wanted to rip Lydia from limb to limb and make her pay for what she’d done to Ace. The only thing that was remotely holding her back was the promise she’d made to Ace when they first talked about all of this. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she needed some sort of… Hell, she had no idea what she needed, but she’d figure it out when she got there. There was no sense of caution in her as she marched up Lydia’s driveway and banged loudly on her front door. 

Already, Lydia had construction workers downstairs, filling up the secret tunnel that had apparently been there decades without anyone noticing. Her nightmares had adopted a new quality, with teeth and glowing eyes. The death of Winn Woods was no longer on the news, but it had started haunting her this week and this week alone, thinking about that silver bullet piercing right through him. Wondering whether it had hurt, that split moment. Whether he had been afraid, or lonely. Maybe he had known, maybe he hadn’t, he had thought he could escape his past right until he hadn’t. He hadn’t been born a werewolf, but he had been one all the same. The thoughts went around and around in her head, like a spinning top. She didn’t just think about Winn Woods. 

Mushroom season would peak this year on a full moon. Wasn’t there something ironic in that?Every day, the pollen called on her a little harder, enticing her closer and closer to the local fairy rings. It tickled her skin, bounced her legs. Just yesterday, she’d promise bound three young men to do the macarena until their legs fell off. She was frenetic, and furious. Lydia stared at the email she had been writing for the past two hours listlessly. Jeremiah and Mohammed had quit their security positions as soon as they had smelled what had happened, so two new guards had come in. Pushing the thought away, Lydia tried to return to describing her in-depth paint analysis services, to confirm authenticity. She’d barely written another word when someone banged on the door. Lydia reached for her phone, checking the camera. Ariana, the young werewolf. Her stomach soured as she put on her best, cruelest smile and went to answer. “Ariana, darling, why don’t you come in!” The little girl was a thief after all.

Whatever this was, Ariana didn’t understand it and practically spat out, “Don’t call me darling.” Already, she could feel the hum of a low growl threaten to rise its way up to her throat. Her claws were practically screaming under her skin to come out and spill Lydia’s blood the way she had spilled Ace’s. Only a small part of her could register 

that going in was a bad idea, but she needed Lydia to pay for this. The only one more at blame for what happened to Ace was her and she couldn’t just get away with this. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she huffed out, “Fine.” There was no reluctance as she followed her in. This wasn’t a conversation meant for the neighbors to overhear. There was no holding back the anger that was brewing under the surface and she demanded, “What’d you do with him?” She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer outside of the gun wounds, but her own actions had led to this. She should have just told Athena about Lydia then none of this would have had the chance to happen. 

This explained it, then. Why Ariana had been sneaking about, who had bitten Sammy. All of it made sense now. Which meant they’d been conspiring against her much longer than Lydia had ever realised. She wanted to wring Chloe’s neck for this, for ever even having put them in this situation, but she needed Chloe until at the very least she could secure a full house once more, so the woman would have to stay. For now. Lydia caught O’s eye as she walked past them, tilting her head so that the zombie would follow. It was still close to the full moon, after all. Lydia led the both of them through to her office, where she promptly sat back at her desk, scrutinising the girl. “I won’t be shouted at in my own home,” Lydia said, with a lightness that didn’t match the situation, as if they were arguing about where Lydia left her bins, rather than murder. Killing a human, Lydia quickly corrected herself. “I think the question is rather, what did you do to him?” 

“I’m hardly shouting at you,” Ariana huffed with her arms crossed squarely over her chest. This wasn’t even close to loud for her. Lydia didn’t want to see loud or stare down the face of a transformed wolf. Every instinct in her wanted to just rip her to shreds, but that wasn’t the way to go about this. She rolled her eyes at the fae’s question. “Seriously? What did I do to him? You kept him in your basement and murdered him and you’re asking what I did to him?” How could she possibly be thinking what Ari had done to him was wrong? He wanted to be a wolf. He wanted a life outside her fucking basement. She’d been trying to help him when all Lydia wanted to do was keep her meals around for far too fucking long. Her blood was boiling under her skin and she answered, “I bit him because he was my friend and he wanted me to.”  

What a petulant child. It was the only thought Lydia could muster inside her, all that rage and betrayal fizzing right under her skin. Lydia had been deprived here more than anyone else, and this girl was rolling her eyes at her?Lydia tapped her acrylic nails against the mahogany desk impatiently. That Ariana was a werewolf at all was the only reason she received even a modicum of Lydia’s patience, although it was already wearing thin. “What, exactly, did you think would happen after?” Lydia asked quietly. “What was your grand plan? Did you expect me to starve myself after you removed my sustenance? Did you think he would stay with you once he’d used you to escape? I’m ever so curious.” 

The question Lydia asked next felt like a dagger sinking into her gut. What did Ariana think would happen? The guilt of that question had tormented her for days now and she still didn’t have an answer, but she refused to let Lydia see her cry. To give her any indication that she’d get the upper hand here. She wouldn’t. She’d pay for this somehow even if she had to go down the route of getting Athena involved. “That you wouldn’t eat or kill a werewolf and that oh, I don’t know, he was of course welcome to stay with me. I could introduce you to someone new if I had to,” she grumbled with her fists clenched at her side, “I’m sure as shit not giving you her name now though.” That much was true though the implication that she ever would had been stretching the truth. She had only spoken to Kelly a handful of times since that open mic night, but she still knew she’d feel like shit if she were to send her to her death. “I find it really hard to believe you have to keep your food long term hostage in your home instead of I don’t know, just eating them and being done with it. Seems kind of excessive to play with your food.” 

Lydia glared at her. She hadn’t killed a werewolf. He’d had the bite, it meant nothing, as little as killing someone bitten by a zombie. He hadn’t yet turned. He’d been a threat, he’d- Lydia wasn’t letting this rug rat get to her. “If you had asked for a trade, we wouldn’t be in this situation, my dear. I’m not unreasonable.” Now it was Lydia’s turn to roll her eyes.  “That isn’t how it works, sweet pea. You’re all the same, lecturing me on my diet without any understanding of it. You couldn’t eat an elephant all at once, could you? And yet once you start, well, the elephant is fucked.” Lydia pursed her lips, her false smile an icy sneer. “I hardly have to justify myself to you, do I? I have no doubt you’ve already cast me as an irredeemable villain, simply for having a different diet to yours. Then again, perhaps you have never accidentally snacked on a hiker, so you have all the moral high ground.”

Ariana felt her breath catch in her throat again. She’d wanted so badly for there to be another way that she let herself believe her half-assed plan could work. That there would be an answer to this where no one else got hurt. Who the hell was she to think she could accomplish something like that? Celeste hadn’t been able to and Celeste had been way smarter than she’d ever be. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, but she refused to falter. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her. “Right, because you were so receptive when I showed up here before and not at all full of it,” she remarked. Lashing out felt better than admitting Lydia was right. She should have just brought Kelly here or worse. Athena was still sitting in the second spot on her speed dial. “Don’t call me that,” she spat, “I’m not-- I don’t care that you have to eat people to live. That’s hardly your fault. You just don’t have to be all Silence of the fucking Lambs about it. And no, actually, I haven’t accidentally snacked on a hiker. I’m careful about that shit. I mean… I ate the hunter that killed my sister, but that was on purpose and not the point.” The last part slipped out and she internally groaned. This wasn’t going well, but what did she think would happen? They weren’t alone here and she doubted she could just rip Lydia apart like she so badly wanted to do. 

“You mean when you were trespassing on my property? You weren’t there to bargain, girl, you were there to spy. I should never have been so gentle in the first place,” Lydia retorted sceptically. “Don’t lie. It’s bad enough you’ve caused this mess, don’t make it worse.” Which would sting to hear, wouldn’t it? If Ariana hadn’t interfered, Sammy would be happy. He was content here. As he had told Lydia all the time, what he felt was more than just devotion. She had been his world, and everything had been better that way. “Silence of the lambs?” Lydia scoffed, crossing her arms. “That is a tad dramatic, don’t you think? That said, I’m ever so young for a fae. I’m fascinated to hear what a child has to advise me about how to best prepare my meals.” I’m careful about that shit. Some individuals were so proud of how little danger they were to humans. As if they were living their lives ready to defend themselves to the courts of a Hunter’s ego. It was a great, pathetic source of pride for Ariana, clearly. There was a cheap shot to make there, lined up so well that Lydia opened her mouth to make it searingly, before thinking better of herself. Fury didn’t need to make her cruel. “I am sorry about your sister. I do know what that feels like.”

“Fine, I was spying which was how I figured out what kind of fae you were and went to that stupid open mic night in the first place,” Ariana said as she crossed her arms over her chest for what felt like the millionth time. Why was she here? What was this possibly going to accomplish? This had been another bad idea in her long series of dumbass decisions. Then all of a sudden she couldn’t tell who she was more angry at-- Lydia or herself. “I may have bitten him, but you didn’t have to shoot him,” she retorted though she still felt her stomach doing flips inside of her as she did. She should have gotten better help. She should have done literally anything else, but Lydia could have also just chosen not to kill him, too. “Uh, not really. I don’t know, think you’re old enough to figure out how to find a less serial killer Netflix documentary way of preparing your dinner, Vicky.” Her words were sharp, especially as she emphasized the name she’d found on Lydia’s subreddit. She shifted uncomfortably as Lydia apologized about her sister. It felt all wrong. “Oh,” she started, unsure if this was a trick or something, “No one should have to know what that feels like.” Had Lydia’s sister been as terrible as she was? “That doesn’t make this better. Did you at least bury him or do something?” 

“He would never have survived as a wolf. He didn’t have the constitution for it. He wouldn’t have been happy as one, and he would have grown to resent you in the end. His family are hunters, after all,” Lydia replied, her words as barbed as icicles where Ariana had struck a nerve, “Do you really think he would have been happy, long term, when he spent his whole life learning how wrong we were. All you offered was a flightful fantasy, enough for the moment and no more.” She raised her eyebrows at the reference to a different name. It should be mildly concerning that Ariana had found it, or had even bother to in the first place, but it was laughable the way the girl threw it as an insult when it had been a name Lydia had chosen for herself. The tone sombered, dead siblings lingering in the air. “I took care of his body.”

Her resolve struggled as Lydia threw the very fears she had this entire time right back in her face. Even if Ariana had managed to save him, what if Alcher and Lydia were both right and he just ended up hating her for it? He probably hated her now too and the realization made her feel sick. “You don’t know that,” she responded weakly, not even believing herself at this point. What was she supposed to do now? Her heart felt ready to burst and it was becoming harder to breathe again. No, she wasn’t doing this here. She did her best to maintain a half-assed glare that likely didn’t do much to convince Lydia that she was mad at anyone but herself. “You took care of it,” Her breath hitched in her throat for what felt like the millionth time and she swallowed it back down, “How?” 

“I know him better than you ever would have,” Lydia replied with a poignant shrug. “You could only have met him a handful of times. I felt everything he felt, for more than a year. How could you possibly compare?” Misguided and terrible as this all was, Lydia did feel for the young wolf, naive and deflating under the weight of her actions. Of course, Lydia would have to take precautions, she was still infuriated, but she did feel a twinge of guilt at tearing a child down so effortlessly. Then she remembered that Chloe was refusing to speak because of the situation Ariana had caused, and her mood soured all over. “Why? Do you want to pay your respects?” 

Another surge of anger went through her as Lydia spoke. She didn’t know Ace better, not when she was influencing his emotions and actions. Then again, didn’t Ariana only know the version of him that had been under Lydia’s direction? Suddenly, she felt deflated again. “Yeah, fine. You knew him so well and still,” her voice cracked as she spoke and her mouth felt entirely too dry, “Maybe not as well, but I knew and cared about him, okay? I didn’t-- I just wanted… Fuck.” She could feel her heart thudding heavily against her chest and her clenched fist ready to crash into the next thing she saw. She needed to breathe. She needed to keep control of herself. There were other people here that she didn’t want to hurt. Hell, she didn’t want to hurt Lydia either. Not really as much as she envisioned how good it would feel to rip her to shreds. Her next question drew her out of the rabbit hole she was letting herself fall into. “I-- would you let me?” She asked even though she was almost sure of the answer. 

“You were just spoiled. You tried to take something that wasn’t yours, you don’t get to cry now you broke it. I’m sure you cared, but you were selfish,” Lydia replied harshly, cocking her head back to sneer at Ariana down her nose, looking down on the girl even though she was the one sitting, not Ariana. Lydia sighed, brushing invisible crumbs from her skirt, brushing the entire affair away. Ariana already knew what her answer would be. So that Lydia could let the girl lead someone to incriminating evidence. If she was so soft on a human to deliberately bite him, she would be soft on the wrong kinds of humans too. “I wish things were different, Ariana. I had no desire to take a human you liked away from you. If you wanted to make him your pet so badly, all you had to do was make the trade. I’m already taking more risks than I can afford just trying to pacify you.”

Ariana knew it wouldn’t matter to her that a person couldn’t belong to anyone but themselves. Nothing she said or did mattered anymore. Ace was already dead. Lydia already knew it was her who bit him in the first place. She grumbled, “Yeah, whatever you say Lydia. I don’t know why I bothered coming to talk to you about this.” She’d been so heated, she’d needed some kind of answer, but what she found only confirmed what she already knew. Her actions had essentially sped up the timeline for Ace’s inevitable death. The familiar feeling of lead in her lungs was catching back up to her. The air in here felt too thick and she needed out. “He’s not a-- you know, whatever fine. I don’t see why it’s a risk, but I shouldn’t have even bothered coming here.” 

“I hope you got what you were looking for.” Lydia replied. All of that righteous passion extinguished. Lydia almost felt bad. The girl was friends with Deirdre, perhaps she might find some solace there. Deirdre was good at being kind. Although that would be inconvenient, bringing Morgan into this all too. Morgan was far too human to understand this either, and unlike the welp in front of her, Lydia cared what Morgan thought. “Hmmm, perhaps not, but you have saved me some work in coming, however much trouble you’ve caused.” Lydia narrowed her eyes, sitting forward. Under her desk, her legs jittered. The spores were thick in the air today. “I see that we still don’t see eye to eye. Oh, sweet Ariana, you’ve forgotten you owe me a gratitude.”

Ariana hadn’t been sure what she was looking for, but this certainly wasn’t it. She’d already known Ace was dead. She’d heard the gunshot and smelled his blood. It wasn’t as if Lydia was going to provide any insightful answers or let her properly say goodbye. So she bit her tongue and said nothing. It seemed only now she was reminded of just how dangerous Lydia could be. Athena and Kaden had both warned her of this yet she still stomped over here fueled by grief and rage without any sort of a plan. She felt defeated, but a small spark in her still fired back. “Oh yes, I’m so glad I could save you some work,” she said sarcastically even though her glare was softer now. She’d been ready to walk out the door when she froze. A gratitude was owed. She remembered Kaden mentioning “thank you” could be a dangerous thing to say to a fae, but it had already been too late and she’d been hopeful it hadn’t been something Lydia was actually able to turn into a promise. Her heart felt as is if it was caught in her throat as she looked to Lydia. “What do you want?” 

“For you to get off your moral high horse. For you to pay the price for what you made me do. The danger you put me in.” Lydia paused, her eyes flicking off into the distance as a small smile curled her lips. “You know what? I have had the most amazing idea. It’s ever so fitting. Let the punishment fit the crime, and all that. If you’re so eager to dilute your species by making humans into werewolves, then you should do that. Spend the next full moon in the Common. Or at the very least, start it there. Of course, I expect you not to talk about this situation with anyone.” Lydia shrugged, spinning her chair back and forth, and as another idea struck her, her smile grew. “If you like, once you’ve secured a few humans to fill Sammy’s place in your life, we can talk again, settle our differences and all that.” If they ever got to that. It was the kind of thing that would change Ariana the same way eating her own mother had changed Lydia. She would understand just how cheap human lives were once she’d had a taste of her own. And if she didn’t? That guilt eating her up right now would only magnify, suffocating her until she left, unable to cope. Lydia was fine with both of those options, honestly.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Ariana snarled as she took a few steps back. She already hated where this was going. Lydia wanted to punish her on top of killing Ace. Seriously? Was she not already struggling enough? Horror crossed her face as Lydia continued. Did she really have to do this? She supposed she wouldn’t really be able to test the waters until then, but she already felt sick. There was no way she could shift in the Common under the full moon and maintain her control. Outside of the moon was one albeit still very difficult thing, but during. Shit. Then she was mentioning settling differences once someone filled Sammy’s place in her life? Something struck her with hearing his name for the first time and so cruelly from her lips. She wanted to rip into her and make all of her promises fucking meaningless, but something was pulling her back. It’d be so easy, to just shift right here and have this be done with, but she couldn’t. Instead, she let her anger simmer inside her and decided she needed to leave before she caused even more damage. “Oh, fuck you,” she said with a newfound ferocity before storming out of the place. She was sure to slam the door behind her, hopefully hard enough to cause some sort of damage. 

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU Inspired fic - “The Vacation Ultimatum” (Rated PG13)

Summary:

Sebastian wants to go somewhere different for summer vacation this year, but Kurt has his heart set on the beach house. He promises Sebastian he'll at least entertain other options. ... In his defense, he finds something very entertaining. (2316 words)

Notes: This is an ACITW inspired fic I started writing last summer before my computer died on me.

Read on AO3.

“So, babe, I was thinking …” Sebastian leaps over the back of the sofa to sit beside Kurt scanning the pages of the latest Vogue magazine.

“That’s dangerous. Real dangerous,” Kurt comments, not lifting his eyes from an ad for Gucci footwear. Kurt seems particularly interested in a pair of blue-and-black brocade loafers, checking the fine print for price and sizing information. Sebastian, knowing by now what Kurt’s long, thoughtful look (narrowed eyelids, scrunched nose, sucked in lips) means, takes note. “Didn’t we talk about that?”

“Ha … ha … ha. Anyway, what if this year, instead of going to the beach house for the summer …?”

Sebastian doesn’t get farther than that before Kurt drops his magazine and glares at him with the ice-cold burn of a lover scorned.

“Wh-what!? Not go to the …! Why!?”

“Babe…” Sebastian knew there was a chance Kurt would react this way from the second he opened his mouth. Kurt is always at his most deadly when he won’t let Sebastian finish a sentence. But Sebastian had hoped he might be persuaded to listen to reason, especially since he’d mentioned wanting to go on a pilgrimage to the House of Alexander this year. If anything could break them out of their summer vacay rut, it should have been McQueen. A jaunt across the pond would have been a welcome change from their usual trip to North Carolina. But apparently Kurt is too sentimental to break from their routine, even for a journey to the temple of his idol.

Sebastian had been hoping against hope … and he lost.

“Because we go to the beach house every summer!”

Kurt’s eyes shift left and right, waiting for a more compelling argument. “Yeah, and …?”

“And aren’t you getting a little tired of it? Don’t you think it’s getting old?”

Kurt’s jaw drops in silent gasp. “Who … who are you right now? How … how can you say that!?”

“Because over a decade of summers at the same beach house can get kind of stale, Kurt!”

Kurt shakes his head slowly, disbelief deepening fine lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. “You’ve known me for over a decade! Am I getting stale?”

“Do you really want an answer to that?” Sebastian jokes before self-preservation and common sense have the chance to shove his size nines in his mouth and stop him. Kurt’s mouth snaps shut with frightening speed, his teeth making a sound when they meet like the cracking of bone.

“If that’s how you feel,” he says, words short, over-enunciated, clipped at the ends as if with razor-sharp shears, “then I can go to the beach house alone this summer, and you can go somewhere fresher!”

Sebastian sighs. He should have known he wasn’t going to win this one. He was defeated before he began. “Kurt …”

“And while you’re there, maybe you can find yourself someone less hard and crusty since I’m becoming so stale!”

“Jesus Christ, Kurt!” Sebastian’s hands find his hair and pull in frustration. “Stop twisting things around! That’s not what I meant! Arguing about the same thing over and over is getting stale!”

“Then stop arguing,” Kurt poses with a wicked grin. “There. Problem solved.”

“I happen to have good reasons for not wanting to go to the beach house this summer!”

“And those are …?”

“For one thing, it’s nowhere near private.”

Kurt chuckles humorlessly. “It’s on a private beach! That your family owns!”

“Olivia and Brian drop in with the kids all the time, unannounced.”

“So? I love Olivia and Brian! And the kids!”

“So do I! But I also love being able to walk around naked and fuck in the kitchen!”

“No one ever stops you walking around naked here at home! And we’ve fucked in the kitchen so many times, we’ve worn ass marks onto the floor, the island, and the table! You can’t throw a robe over yourself and fuck in a bed like a normal person for one month?”

“Kurt! Don’t you think it’s nice to do something new every once in a while?”

Kurt carefully picks up his dropped magazine so that he has something to toss sassily aside and crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you met me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sebastian says, mirroring the gesture … minus having anything to throw. Not that he didn’t look around him for something suitable, but the only things within reach are coffee mugs and Yankee Candles, and he doesn’t want to accidentally give Kurt a concussion. “You’re stubborn and annoying!”

“Exactly!”

Sebastian snorts at the word Kurt wasn’t quick enough to catch before it flew out of his mouth, turned around, and slapped him in the face.

Kurt closes his eyes on his own faux pas and shakes it from his head. “I mean, about being stubborn. How many times do I stray from the familiar? I wear the same designers all the time, I order the same dish at every restaurant, I’ve driven the same Navigator since high school …”

“Yeah …” Sebastian clears his throat before he accidentally guffaws “… by the way, that’s something we really need to talk about ...”

Kurt’s offended face becomes comically dramatic. “My life is stressful, Sebastian!”

Sebastian pauses his argument to look Kurt over from head to toe - his significant other reclining on the sofa in his pajamas and robe with his feet propped up … at three on a Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah …” He leans over, catches the end of Kurt’s untied belt, and flips it across his waist. “The rigors of your life must be crippling!”

“It’s my afternoon off, you deranged kumquat!” Kurt snaps, tossing the belt back and smacking Sebastian on the chin. “The point is I value our summer together. Most of all, I value the fact that I don’t have to stress out about it because I don’t have to put any energy into thinking about doing something different! It’s a no-brainer!”

“So you’re saying it suits you.”

Kurt points at Sebastian, very reminiscent of a circa 2000 Cooper Anderson. “Watch your step, Smythe, or you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian relents, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. That one went a bit too far.”

Kurt breathes in deep, exhales long. “Look, when we first got together and divvied up responsibilities, you put me in charge of planning summer vacation.”

“Because I thought you’d send us to all sorts of exotic locales with clothing optional activities.”

“We do those over spring break! And on our birthdays! And over New Year’s! We’ve flashed more people than Tara Reid! I like going to the beach house in the summer! It’s tradition!”

“But we can go anywhere in the world!”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere in the world!” Kurt parrots in a whiny voice. “I wanna go to the beach house!”

Sebastian slaps his hands on his thighs and pushes up to his feet. “Fine. Whatevs. Just do me a favor. For me. Because you supposedly love me.”

Kurt rolls his eyes so far back in his head he glimpses his soul. “I guess …”

“Get on your phone and check out some other spots that you might want to go to. Any spot, regardless of distance or cost. Then we’ll compare, list pros and cons, and together we’ll make an educated decision. That way we’ll know one hundred percent for certain that there isn’t somewhere else that tickles your fancy.”

“I already know …”

“Just this once,” Sebastian says, cutting into Kurt’s grousing, “and again, because you love me.”

Kurt’s face pinches, his lips pulled tight to avoid creasing. He drops his head back on his shoulders in exasperation and reaches in his robe pocket for his phone. “All right, all right. But shoo. I don’t need any distractions.”

Sebastian leans in to give Kurt a kiss, grinning when he swats him away like an irritating insect. “Your wish is my command, oh benevolent dictator.”

“That’s Expedia God to you.”

***

Sebastian makes himself scarce for more than an hour running odd errands - one of which includes buying Kurt his favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the block. He’s both encouraged and relieved when he returns home to find Kurt still in the living room when he should be at yoga, bent over his phone, staring intently at something on his screen.

He missed yoga for this, Sebastian thinks. He must be taking it seriously.

Even more than that, Kurt is smiling, lower lip pinched between his teeth, his eyes positively glowing.

‘Yes!’ Sebastian cheers silently, slipping into the kitchen to put away the cheesecake while allowing himself a moment to daydream about spending this upcoming summer vacation on the French Riviera, which they admittedly did last Christmas. Or in Jamaica, where they’d gone two falls ago. Or, like he’d thought, London, which is where they’d spent Fashion Week. Sebastian stops with his hand on the refrigerator door, chewing his own lower lip in thought. Looking back on their lives together as a couple, they have done their share of traveling around the world, even if they do spend every summer in North Carolina. So … spending another one there isn’t exactly a big deal. They’d recently booked a flight to Rio to coincide with the start of the school year, winging over after the egress of promiscuous co-eds vying for one final fling before hitting the books.

Jesus Christmas!

Is he being a jerk about nothing!?

Sebastian pulls out his cell phone and checks his calendar. Nearly every box of every month is filled with meetings, assignments, appointments. But aside from that, it’s cluttered with trips they’ve planned - the Cape for their anniversary; the Poconos for Kurt’s dad and stepmom’s anniversary; Munich for Oktoberfest, which happens to be a tradition that Sebastian started - one that Kurt hasn’t always been so fond of. He can appreciate the food. He can appreciate the beer. He can appreciate the authentic costumes and the lively music and dancing.

But the second people start hugging and slapping each other, he gets a little skittish.

Last year, Sebastian flew Kurt to Milan last minute for Arbor Day, just to give him a reason to make the stupid day memorable. Thus is one of the perks of being rich. He’d planned on making that a tradition.

So that’s two of Sebastian’s traditions to one of Kurt’s.

Sebastian sticks his head in the fridge, smacking his forehead against the butter dish, and groans.

If Kurt wants to spend this summer - and every summer until the day they die - in North Carolina, is it really such a big deal?

But seeing Kurt stare at his phone with a huge smile on his face intrigues Sebastian. Even after everything, their whole argument, he did what Sebastian asked. He gave it a chance. What if he actually found somewhere else he wants to go? Skydiving? Spelunking? Scuba diving? Another hot air balloon ride?

Sebastian swallows hard remembering …

… they can do all those things in North Carolina.

He removes his head from the dairy section and closes the door. Then he strolls back into the living room, nonchalant smile on his face.

“You’re looking pretty focused there, babe. Did you find something you like?”

“Yup.”

Sebastian’s spine tingles with the possibilities. “Willing to share?”

“Well, in order for you to appreciate where I ended up on my journey, I’ll need to walk you through my process.”

“Do tell …”

“I didn’t have any particular locale in mind, but I knew I wanted to go to the beach, so I started looking up beaches.”

Sebastian nods. “Not venturing too far from the comfortable, I see, but still promising.”

“Tropical beaches, exclusive beaches, private beaches, beach resorts, islands …”

“A-ha …”

“I saw a link for this beach in San Diego called Dog Beach.”

“Very nice. Quaint. I’ve been there once or twice. Lots of nice little communities with bungalows …”

“I thought so, too. But I was clicking through the website and I saw the most amazing thing. Something I wouldn’t mind seeing in person.”

“Really?” Sebastian says hopefully.

“A-ha. It had pictures of a surf dog competition …”

Sebastian’s smile dips at the corners. His voice becomes a little tight. “Okay …”

“I clicked on it and …”

“Let me guess …” Sebastian drops his head into his hands, blunt nails digging into the cold spot on his forehead “… you’ve been watching videos of surfing dogs.”

“Yup.”

“For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know. When was the last time you were in here?”

Sebastian’s arms drop to his side revealing his disgruntled expression. “You’ve been watching videos of dogs surfing for two hours!?”

“I guess. Time’s just … flown by …”

Sebastian watches in agony as Kurt switches to another tab on his phone, bringing up a YouTube video of a bulldog riding a skateboard. Kurt chuckles and shakes his head.

“How’d you learn how to do that?” he baby talks the screen. “You’re the goodest boy, aren’t you? 12 out of 10.” He scrolls down to the comment section to type that in.

Sebastian slaps his forehead. He turns on his heel and heads for the bedroom before he has the chance to go insane. To be honest, he should have known better. He walked into this one, what with his cockimamey ideas about going somewhere else over the summer. “Beach house it is.”

“If that’s what you think is best, dear,” Kurt mutters to Sebastian’s retreating back, deeply enthralled in another dog video. He waits till he hears Sebastian open the door to the bathroom, then closes out the video and composes a text:

To: Olivia

False alarm! We’re on for the beach house!

He giggles conspiratorially when a message immediately pops up.

From: Olivia

Thank God! See you there!

[cashmereleopard]

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[assortedmutts]

Food, sickness, happiness

Some headcanons!

Food: let’s discuss Merc seriously reevaluating his life choices the day he tries authentic Thai curry and not one that’s been somewhat watered down to benefit his western sensibilities. He handles spice pretty well but, even with that said, he soon discovers that even he has his limits. Feels very sorry for himself sitting in some hole-in-the-wall joint in Bangkok, sweating bullets, growing as red as the sun and breathing fire while the locals sneak mildly-amused looks at him. The staff does warn him that the dish is not for him, but he’s a stubborn twenty-something little shit who thinks he can take on anything.

Sickness: in the course of his sickly childhood, his mother developed a variety of rituals by which to ease Merc to sleep - he was prone to fainting and spent a lot of his days restricted to bed, which would often make him aching and restless. His favorite by far was the one he’d receive if he were a good boy, didn’t argue or resists: she’d  turn off all the lights save for his phototherapy lamp, play a soothing record for him and sit at his bedside, playing with his curls and stroking his ear until he fell asleep.

Happiness: he’ll never find happiness like the kind he found in the military. Finally finding his skill and getting recognized and commanded for it; finally receiving the structure he didn’t know he desperately needed in his life; receiving both validation and an outlet for his aggressive and paranoid tendencies and developing profound friendships with a small group of men he grew to blindly trust with his life... even if keeping his sexual preferences to himself was something of a struggle, he bloomed in the time of his military service like never before. There was even talk amongst brass of sending him to train as an officer once the war was over.

[arthurjdrake]

For Keeps : Alain & Arthur

Summary: A phoenix and a hunter go into a bar. (aka Amelie and I somehow never posted a doc we wrote like 3 months ago don’t judge us) >_> Parties: Arthur and @carbrakes-and-stakes

Recent events had come to show that sometimes meeting new people (Leah especially) didn’t always go terribly, and the little he’d experienced of Alain so far from their online conversations gave Arthur a strangely positive vibe. He couldn’t say what it was, but shared interests were certainly a scene setter for an interesting afternoon over beer if nothing else. Though it transpired with recent revelations that his interest in Alain was further vested in gauging just what sort of person he was and just what Evelyn saw in him that made her interested in being with him. Call it protective curiosity. The Perfect Pint was a decent enough establishment and one he frequented if only for the full plate of good food and Guinness they had on tap. A sizeable establishment with light filtering through slightly grimy windows, it smelled like an ashtray but was relatively clean by most pubs standards. Not to mention the presence of several dart boards and snooker tables for patrons to use if they so pleased. Wooden stools lined up against the bar resembled careless soldiers. Two were occupied and Arthur was five minutes early. So he leaned on the darkwood bar, occasionally sipping a cool pint of Guinness while watching the highlights scrolling on the screen and wincing at a particularly nasty tackle.

Alain pushed the door to The Perfect Pint expecting to have a peaceful moment for once. No hunting, no arguing, not questioning everything. Just chatting with someone with common interests and seeing where that led. Not going to the Silver Bullet for once would also be a nice change. It must have been months since he last went to a normal bar. Being greeted by the sound of football matches and people playing pool was a nice change, and it reminded Alain of the few weeks he had spent in Europe a couple years ago. Now he did not care much for the smell of cigarettes, but if this was all he could complain about, then he would not complain at all. Recognizing some customers as he made his way to the counter, he nodded politely and took a seat with the man he figured would be Arthur. If not, then things would probably get awkward really quick. “Bonjour,” he greeted him, figuring that would be enough of a tell. The bartender approaching, he ordered himself a pint of Amber Ale and turned his attention back to Arthur. “I hope I’m not late.”

There weren’t too many people in town Arthur felt he could go down to the pub to simply have a drink with, he was woefully short on friends who weren’t so studiously academic that it was kind of funny to imagine them in a setting like this. Plus, it reminded him of home in an inexplicable way. From the smell to the darkwood features of the pub, like his local back in Twickenham. Occasionally he glanced at his wrist-watch checking and rechecking the time, the smooth carved wood of its casing a familiar comfort in its proximity. As a figure approached and sat down beside him he turned, body-language relaxed and comfortable, an amicable smile warming his features upon hearing the French. “Salut,” he greeted with a small dip of his head, taking a moment to just study Alain, taking in the years around his eyes and features, the stubborn lingering grease around his fingernails and a missing finger as well. Interesting. Arthur vaguely remembered him saying he was a mechanic in a past conversation. A bit rough around the edges but he could see the appeal though it was the personality he was more intrigued to learn more about. “Not at all,” he laughed quietly at the sentiment with a shake of his head “no, I’m just partial to being early.” He let Alain order before he leaned back a little, “so you own the garage in town right? How’s business been going for you lately?”

If Alain could feel like he was being scrutinized, he didn’t mention it to Arthur, and instead, pretended to look just about anywhere else. He had never been here, so this gave him a good enough excuse not to be attentive. “Is it really how pubs look in the UK?” The place looked like a postcard, and a whole lot like pubs that claimed to be authentic, and he couldn’t quite decide if it was really close to the actual thing or a caricature. Clearly, the mime places weren’t as authentic as they claimed to be, so maybe this was the case here as well. He rubbed at the corner of his eye with one finger and thanked the bartender as he came back with his drink. “Do you actually speak French or…” either way, there would be no hard feelings, but once again, he was curious, which was a good indicator : a bored Alain did not ask questions and hardly spoke. Taking a sip from his pint, he leaned back a little in the seat and nodded in reply to Arthur’s question. “Business is doing alright. I’ve had a few good months with the falling fish. Lots of shattered windshields, lots of intensive cleaning too,” scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged. With the big lobsters, a bunch of cars had been roughly damaged, and considering he had to spend some time off work, all those events had helped keeping the cash coming. “What about you. You’re a teacher, right?”

“It’s not a bad imitation of one considering they even have an old geezer eating roasted peanuts” Arthur admitted eyeing another patron at one of the tables in the corner. “Plus this is the only place I can actually catch games when they’re on, even if it is at like one AM… Granted it’s worth staying up if only for the Irish breakfast.” The question was met with a nod, “I speak a little to pass conversation. I’m kinda rusty and the amount of exceptions to all the tenses always catches me in one place or another…” He shrugged a shoulder taking a sip of his beer “personally, I think it’s important especially if you’re going to live somewhere for a while you know? Too many people just expect everyone else to cater to them just because they’re too lazy and entitled to learn another language.” That was a trait that bothered him about most people growing up in an anglophone environment, the lack of desire to even try and relate to people from other walks of life; forcing them to adapt from their culture. It was hardly fair in his mind. “Ha, yeah I can imagine there’s all sorts of interesting things that keep you busy. The newspaper mentioned something about screaming moose you know? I never thought I’d live anywhere that the wildlife would be much of an issue.” Or maybe he should’ve considered that before moving to White Crest. “Yeah! I teach up at the university, history and mythology department. Certainly no lack of folklore around these parts.”

“What?” Alain followed Arthur’s eyes and his shoulders shook with amusement at the sight of the old geezer eating roasted peanuts. “Alright, that is authentic for sure,” he had another sip of beer. Listening to the man talk, his brows furrowed. “You’re kidding? This is like music to my insomniac ears,” of course insomnia was a stretch, but Alain was not about to tell Arthur that he was a vampire hunter, and that as a result, he really didn’t need to sleep that much. Insomniac seemed a lot more simple. “Night entertainment and food, I’m sold,” he scoffed. Now was he surprised to hear that Arthur struggled with the french language? Not really. “Hey, if you ever need practice, you know where to find me,” he offered. It did not cost him much, and he liked chatting in his native language. Really a win win. “I agree. I mean, obviously if you’re only here for a week, there’s only so much you can do, but don’t expect everyone to speak your own language, that’s… logical,” he shrugged, refraining from rolling his eyes. “You just have to be … logical,” he repeated. Clearly things were easier for him when he visited France, but his time in Spain had been quite something, as he could only remember very few things in Spanish. “Screaming moose?” His eyebrows raised and he glanced to the side, clearly concerned. Could it be due to supernatural reasons? Possible. He’d have to ask Kaden about that one. “Clearly not. The area is quite … rich in folklore. I think we’re a good tie with Louisiana and Salem,” he agreed. “What is your favorite folklore story?”

“See?” Arthur chuckled eyes crinkling at the corners in his mirth at the token sight that seemed a staple in most pubs back home, there was always at least one. “No way! I kid about a lot of things but not that. Definitely not when it comes to a full Irish and watching rugby or football. For sure, next time there’s something on I’ll let you know, even if it does mean I have to sit and watch France play--” he lamented with a put-upon look though it was all in jest. Insomnia was interesting but hardly surprising in a town such as this; there could be any host of reasons behind it. “I might take you up on that, I find it hard not to be so formal in structuring the sentences...” Arthur tilted his glass a little “well, yeah sure but I still think if you’re going to visit another country it’s at least polite to try. It’s just always been a pet peeve, just people being so self-involved they don’t think about trying to make an effort for anyone else.” Alain seemed surprised and Arthur’s brows furrowed, “didn’t you see the newspaper? It was a while back but something about Sunday at sundown being when moose would scream? Seemed a bit weird… I didn’t know moose could scream… Just thought they trampled things.” But hey, wild life could surprise you especially in a town like this.

“Rich is an understatement,” he said with a shake of his head. “Issue is most of the stories around these parts were passed down by word of mouth… Not many actual documents to look at.” There was a spark that always seemed to light up his features whenever he got into a discussion about folklore, “oh, would totally have to be the Huldufólk - the hidden folk - Icelanders believe they’re hidden elves that live in the shadows between rocks, it’s said they love to dance and invade farms at Christmas to hold wild parties. That their origins come from the Garden of Eden, when God visited Adam and Eve, Eve was washing their children and hadn’t finished… Embarrassed, she hid the unwashed children and lied about their existence. To punish her God declared that the children she hid would be hidden from all of mankind and so the first Huldufólk came to be.” It was an interesting and unique narrative and one that had always intrigued him. “How about you? Do you take any interest in folklore?”

Pursing his lips, Alain remained silent as he turned to look at the other man, looking as offended as he looked amused by his comment on French teams. “Let’s not mention that England has not won a world cup in football since the 60s, despite being such a great nation of football, then, shall we?” clearing his throat, he took a sip of beer to hide his smile. Such an argument could go on for days, for sure, but it seemed like Arthur was not the kind to start pointless arguments. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I will admit to being less formal than I used to be,” it had been a while since he left the Babineaux household, and his speech level had grown simpler with time. “Of course. Portugal was awkward, I didn’t speak a damn word of portuguese and had to rely on one of those tiny vocabulary books,” he mimed the rough size of said book with his hands and raised his eyebrows in despair as he remembered how thankful he was that most people knew more English than he knew Portugese. “Yeah, some people do have a hard time not focusing on themselves,” scratching at the back of his neck, Alain looked thoughtful for a moment, staring into the gap. “They kind of sound like nazguls when they scream,” he finally commented, but it usually happened a bit later in the year. Alain had not exactly planned to discuss rut season, but if this was where the conversation was heading, why not?

“Like most stories. And it’s not like books or history is any better. It’s always written by those who survive, or those who won,” biased, but at least the version couldn’t change once printed on paper. You could tell how enthusiastic Arthur was about the subject, and it was refreshing. Leaning against his elbow, the hunter listened to the scholar talk about some ancient legend. The story sounded a bit too polished to be the truth, but he did not doubt that Iceland had a bunch of little folks living in the shadow. “It’s hard not to when you spend your whole life in this town. I’m afraid I don’t have stories to tell however,” clearly this was a lie, but Alain knew better than to start telling people he barely knew about his night time activities.

“True,” though Arthur raised a brow in mild challenge, “but what we do have are three six nations titles to the name in the last ten years. So I think that counts for something. You can take football, I’ll take rugby. Issue settled.” It was banterous and Arthur’s grin was cheeky in spite of himself. “You tend to get that way with time, formalities are nice but they can be so constricting to adhere to all the time.” He snorted a little at the comparison, “oh Gods don’t ruin Nazguls for me like that. No no that’s not allowed.” Lord of the Rings was sacred in this sphere and nothing, especially no moose screaming was allowed to ruin it.

“I mean that’s true of almost anything in life. It’s just nice to actually have some hard evidence to work from rather than just the word of mouth. At least that way you can start to deduce what influences there might’ve been on a source.” Perhaps the story was too polished, too easily wrapped up but it was a nice tale nonetheless. Not everything in the world had to be all doom and gloom. So what if there were elves that liked to play games and pull tricks. “Huh, really? Did you grow up here?”

“Heh, fine,” then coughing to jokingly hide what he was about to say, he added in a hurry, “Football’s better anyway.” Obviously coughing was not meant to really hide anything, and he found himself laughing. Shaking his head, he ran a hand in his hair and sighed heavily. “Formalities are fine by me, although I wouldn’t hope to see me ‘formal’,” he scratched at the corner of his mouth, shook his head and took a sip of beer again. Once again he found himself laughing at the man’s reaction. Alain really would have to stop insulting everything Arthur liked. “Nazguls ruined themselves on their own. Moose have the right to ruin them more,” it appeared they had yet another thing in common. Although he was never an hardcore fan, he still remembered the first time he read the Hobbit very fondly.

“Fair enough. I just feel like history is really biased and often misinterpreted too,” you just had to look at what people were taught at school. Maps placing their country in the middle of the world, wars lost barely mentioned… “I did grow up here. But no, no stories,” not any he wanted to tell. “I can however bore you to death about astronomy. Or myths related to constellations, although you probably already know them all.”

It wasn’t the worst, Arthur rather enjoyed a challenge and the fact Alain seemed willing to challenge ideas in a joking fashion was a good sign for the man’s own personality. “Noo!” he protested with a laugh waving his hand as if to try and stop the insults light-hearted as they were “that’s not allowed, only the waters of Bruinen are allowed to completely wreck the Nazguls or a hobbit with a frying pan. Sheesh these are the sorts of debates I used to get into with Evelyn. The real issues of life.” It wasn’t entirely true, this was one facet of many that he and Evelyn had discussed but Arthur was curious to see how Alain would react to hearing her name.

“It often is, but I think that’s part of the challenge of studying it. Knowing you have to work to try and uncover the obfuscated truth behind the fogs of what people want you to believe.” It was countless, the amount of times he’d tried to submit revisions based on contrary evidence, some had gone through while others… It was a tiring endeavor but one he’d continue to pursue regardless. “That would hardly bore me. I’ve been fascinated with astronomy since I was a child. There’s actually very little I find more interesting.”

“I don’t know,” Alain’s brows furrowed at the mention of hobbit held frying pans, and they furrowed some more at the mention of Evelyn. You could see the cogs turning and trying to figure out what this was about. Biting his lip, he shook his head. “You wouldn’t happen to be…” he tried to remember the words she used. “I think she might have mentioned that she had a favorite professor in town,” he scoffed, shaking his head. He supposed that it made sense that she would mention him to her mentor, as secretive as she could be, it was hard not to share some things.

If Alain had often had to do research, it was far from the academic kind, but that did not mean that he couldn’t dedicate entire days to gathering information on certain kinds of undead species. The hardest part was not knowing the species name and hoping to recognize characteristics in his readings. “That’s what I like with cars, they don’t usually tell lies, which makes my job a lot easier,” he doubted that cars would be something Arthur could be interested in, but he was not too surprised to hear that he liked astronomy too, but that did not mean he wouldn’t be excited about it. “Really?!” His tone of voice was unusually cheerful. “Then you have to join me for stargazing sometimes.”

It would be interesting to see what Alain came up with, and while he clearly processed the passing mention Arthur took a sip of his Guinness giving him time to think but out of the corner of his eye watching curiously. “Oh did she?” it was easy enough to feign mild surprise with just a dash of curiosity thrown in for good measure. He made a quietly amused sound, “yes, she does like to remind me of that as often as she can - along with the fact she was one of my brightest students… She’s hardly a forgettable person but if you know her I’m sure you’re aware of that fact.”

“Well, no lies if they’re built well. I once had a guy try to sell me a knockoff Bentley - full look of the thing but the insides were scavenged from hell. Luckily I didn’t agree to that deal.” While Arthur didn’t know much about cars, he knew which ones he liked and back in the day he’d raced the odd car here and there. So it was more a casual interest than a passionate hobby. The enlightened state that seemed to come over Alain’s features on the topic of Astrology - much in the same way his own lit up at the mention of mythology was interesting and Arthur could tell that whatever else, Alain was certainly someone he liked. “Stargazing? Sure, I’ve actually got a great telescope back at mine. Always try to do some Astrophotography when I’ve been out on fieldtrips… Nothing better than a long hike and taking some good photos. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Alright, so maybe it was not completely a coincidence that he and Arthur had ended up talking to each other, although Alain hoped that they really shared the same interests. “She does leave a strong impression, a good impression,” he clarified. Even knowing that she was not really human, he couldn’t seem to be able to change the way he felt about her, and he was terrified by it, even though he liked to tell himself that if she had fed on him this whole time, he would change his mind about the woman he had feelings for. “I’m grateful we met.”

“The lies here come from that guy, people lie, not cars. If you ever want to acquire one of these, please do tell. I like restoring properly older cars. “The Continental Bentley from the 1950s is a real beauty, but hard to find in good shape these days,” the man’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as the subject changed to astronomy. Quite the contrary. “See, that’s something I struggle with. I never seem to be able to take a proper picture. I tried, but I think I’m just really not good with that kind of technology,” he liked taking pictures, and Evelyn liked having her picture taken which was a great combination, but when it came to space, it was almost disastrous. “You really need to show me. I could use that.”

“That’s true,” Arthur agreed, seeming to take measure of the answer and find it satisfactory “she’s quite a remarkable young woman.” Evelyn had been right, and from what Arthur could tell, Alain was being genuine. “How did you meet? If you don’t mind me asking?” Evelyn had been rather cryptic of late regarding Alain and Arthur was rather curious to learn the story there. “She’s a good friend of mine so I find myself interested in the people she surrounds herself with.”

While Arthur was still taking note of Alain’s general disposition, he seemed to relax into the new conversation put at ease by what he could read from the other man’s reaction regarding Evelyn. “It’s funny you mention that, I’ve got the Bentley Continental V8 here at the minute but back home I have a 1949 Bentley VI Saloon and a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette. They’re some of the best drives I think I’ve ever had on the road.” An understanding nod was given, “ah yeah, often you just have to spend a while playing around with the exposure on the camera and make sure you use a tripod to keep it stable. It’s a bugger but once you get the hang of it it’s not too bad.” He grinned clearly excited by the proposed idea “but sure, next time there’s something astrological going on, send me a message and I’ll give you a crash course. Maybe you can give me a crash course in cars.”

Young woman. He had to wonder if this was meant to be an attack or not. As far as he was concerned, yes, she was young, and yes, he was older, and it was uncommon, but it was something he and Evelyn had discussed. In the end, it was Alain who felt the least comfortable about the difference, not her. “Oh, ahem,” he mused. “Well, I was trespassing on her property, which is a great first impression apparently. I wanted to find a good spot to stargaze, but didn't know it was a private beach,” he trailed off. Yeah, that had been embarrassing, and he had considered fleeing the place the moment Evelyn disappeared to get a cardigan.

Now he was glad he did not.

“Oh.” Well he really was not a fan of the newer ones, as he found them a bit too soft looking, but he kept that to himself. And so it surprised him that Arthur seemed to like some very different cars, but he would not question the man’s taste. To each their own. “See Evelyn, she owns too many cars,” he scoffed. An understatement, although it was not really a surprise. She liked owning things, especially pretty things, and Alain wondered sometimes if there was a reason for that need. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Let’s just hope that my crash course involves no crashing cars,” shaking his head, he took another sip of beer. “I just think that people, just, everyone should know more about what’s under the hood.”

It was less an attack, more a statement of fact and Arthur’s view of evelyn. She was an incredible young woman. There was no further intention to the words than that and if he did notice any discomfort it wasn’t remarked on. He’d learned one lesson lately and that was to let some things lie. So instead, he listened to Alain’s story, leaning a little more on the bar with his interest fixed because he was genuinely curious to learn the tale and get a better understanding of his friend’s mind in this. “And did she stay out?” Arthur assumed so but better to get clarification just to be on the safe side.

“But I do have the other two older ones, I might get them shipped over at some point… I just didn’t know how permanent my residence here was going to be and I didn’t want to ship them and find myself heading back overseas you know? Too much hassle.” Though he had to laugh at the statement of Evelyn and cars, “she has too much stuff period. Always has, but I can hardly blame her for that.” Arthur had his own reasonings about why that might be the case but it wasn’t something to discuss right now. Alain was nice enough but not someone he’d chat in depth to about his long-time friends. Not yet at least. “Yeah, I’d rather not go out in a ball of flames.” The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him. “You’re probably right, I guess it seems so foreign and alien to most people that even approaching the topic seems like a challenge. It’s kind of the same with history… or language. Some people nowadays are afraid of not being able to overcome the challenge I think.”

“She did,” he wrinkled his nose, “considering the reputation of Harris Island folks, I did consider for a moment that she was staying with me until the police arrived,” which was something that made him feel terrible, but could you really blame him. “I think she had nothing better to do,” Alain might have never been the luckiest person there was, but he always wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

“I mean, that’s fair.” Alain rarely had to get cars imported, but he remembered having to import his own car from France, and how much of a hassle this had been. “I’d love to have a look at those, if you ever do get them shipped here,” he added, finishing his pint and searching for his wallet to pay the bartender. “Glad to know that she always has been this way,” he had a light laugh. Alain had given up on thinking of things he could offer her, hoping that memories could be things she would cherish more. “Let’s avoid that, yeah,” he shook his head. “People probably think it’s too complicated, too hard, too … I don’t know… That only some people are allowed to have this kind of knowledge,” the man had always been curious, and it was no surprise to learn that Arthur, an academic, felt the same way about learning new things.

“Understandable,” Arthur had met a few people that lived out that way and hadn’t been too impressed with them “Harris island folks can be pretty funny about strangers wandering onto their properties. Luckily she’s one of the better few out that way.”

“Sure, I’ll let you know if I ever make the decision to do that… Though considering how much glass damage it seems people complain about online I’m not sure if it’s something I’d really want to expose myself to… But I guess knowing a mechanic doesn’t hurt with that issue.” Setting his glass on the counter he pushed back a little. “Maybe, I guess some people just feel its unreachable for them in particular or they have no effort in pursuing the avenue to acquiring it.” Arthur waved his hand as he saw Alain reach for his wallet, fishing his card out the back of his phone case before good-naturedly adding “don’t worry about it, I’ll get them.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you get a bit too out of touch with reality,” Alain was certain that his sister, or his parents, were the kind to react poorly to trespassers, and the reason he knew that was because he was himself not really fond of trespassers, and this, despite having spent the last two decades in the middle class.

“I don’t think soundproofing your garage is the answer to big noises, but hey, you now know a mechanic. I’m sure you’ll be alright,” the corners of his mouth tugged up, as he stood up from the stool. “Let me know if you ever feel like learning a thing or two, alright?” He frowned slightly at Arthur’s offer, but didn’t question it for too long and instead nodding, thankful. “Alright, thanks.”

With a huff of amusement Arthur grinned, “good thing people who are rational like us exist then.” With the delivery of a few notes across the bar and a tip for the waiter Arthur pushed to his feet and tucked his wallet away. “Well, nice to meet you Alain. And if you ever fancy watching ridiculously late night rugby matches just let me know.” With a wave of his hand he made his way towards the door and the walk back home in the early afternoon light.