#and i know for a fact you can afford to spend $200 on a nice apartment rental for a weekend

[thefrogman]

Recently I took a panorama of the Pittsburgh skyline at night that got a positive response. That was done on the spur of the moment with an iPhone. I want to do that again and more, but this time with a dedicated camera setup. It's been years since I've had one, so I'm basically starting over again. I'm mostly interested in getting day and night cityscapes, and maybe the carryings-on at this year's Anthrocon. Would you have any particular knowledge to pass on as I set off on this journey?

Since you didn't specify a budget I'm going to assume it is in the $10K range.

And you're probably thinking I'm going to suggest a Leica. Every dentist and his brother (who is also a dentist) gets a Leica. But I just can't take a camera brand seriously when they charge you an extra $2200 for the privilege of not being able to shoot in color.

Sure, you can hit a single button in Lightroom to get B&W and save some money, but then you won't be able to brag about how limiting yourself to only shades of gray has opened up new artistic pathways in your brain while a clueless person responds in mumbles during their root canal.

What you really want for your landscapes is a Hassie.

They were the first camera on the moon! How could you *not* want a Hasselblad? That is some camera gorgeousness right there. And it's so reasonably priced*!

*compared to their previous $40,000 camera systems.

And if you are doing landscapes with the Hassie you'll need a nice wide angle lens to go with it. This one is actually quite affordable*!

*compared to their previous $8000 lenses.

Can we all agree that is a work of art? They even use their H logo as the knurling.

That is just so... extra. And I love it.

Out of the entire alphabet I've heard Hs give you the best grip.

Man, I almost wish I was a dentist just so I could buy a fancy camera.

Sorry... I was just having a little fun.

I never get to recommend the super cool expensive cameras. Because, ya know, the economy and the fact that only dentists have Hasselblad money.

You probably think I'm being silly but there actually is an entire community of dentist photographers keeping the high end camera market alive.

Okay, let's get started...

Landscape Buying Guide

Opening Thoughts

For landscapes I would highly suggest a full frame camera and a high quality wide angle lens.

Full frame has several advantages but it is not necessary. You can go with a smaller sensor like APS-C and get great images. Personally I would not go any smaller, but there have been some great landscapes taken on micro 4/3 and even smartphones. Technique, knowledge, experience, and composition will usually win the day over a camera, but having a nice camera makes things a lot easier.

At this point, with full frame options being very affordable now, the main reason to get a smaller sensor is if you want a smaller system that is easier to carry for extended periods and easier to pack when traveling. Or if you aren't sure you want to take on photography as a hobby, you can get an old APS-C DSLR for under $200 to learn with and test out.

So if you need a very cheap OR very compact system, APS-C and Micro 4/3 might be worth considering, but a bigger sensor will cause less frustration most of the time.

Froggie Note: The expensive Micro 4/3 and APS-C systems are the compact ones. The cheap systems are about as bulky as full frame.

The biggest advantages to full frame are low light shooting, lens selection, and field of view. Full frame cameras have many, many more lenses to choose from. And since the sensor is bigger, it is much easier to get a wider field of view that is often needed for landscapes. And the high ISO noise performance tends to be better on full frame.

However, you can use full frame lenses on APS-C camera bodies within the same ecosystem. They just get a little... zoomier. Roughly 1.5x zoomier. A 35mm acts like a 50mm, for example. So if you want to spend a little less now you can get an APS-C camera with a full frame lens and then upgrade to full frame later on without having to buy a new lens. Full frame lenses work on APS-C bodies but not the other way around.

Most landscapists have a really solid 16-35mm lens and that covers almost all of their needs. So I would suggest something comparable. Please don't get suckered into some crazy 18-300mm superzoom. Just get the focal range you need for the photos you want to achieve.

A purpose-built lens always outperforms one that was made to do everything.

As far as where to get used gear, I highly recommend using KEH or MPB when buying used camera bodies. They check every device and offer between 3 and 6 months warranty to make sure the device won't crap out on you. Lenses are typically a lot more robust and a safer thing to buy on eBay or Facebook Marketplace if you can find a better deal. But the security of having a warranty and a return apparatus if something goes wrong might be worth the extra price when using these two sites.

I am going to recommend Canon, Nikon, and Sony systems. I feel they have the most complete ecosystems with gear that spans all budget ranges. I'm not saying there aren't good cameras from other brands, but you have to remember every camera has an ecosystem surrounding it. There are accessories and upgrade paths and niche lenses that may not be available with other brands. I think Fuji has some tempting options and if you like the look of vintage film photography, their emulation options are quite stunning. Their cameras are also quite attractive and have very satisfying knobs. But I still can't recommend them unless you have a specific reason for wanting their gear.

Just remember that for every Canon DSLR I recommend there is a comparable Nikon option available as well. There are more lenses for a Canon full frame DSLR body than any other brand with Nikon coming in a close second.

So if you choose not to go mirrorless yet, the Canon and Nikon DSLR camera ecosystems are immense and have tons of gear and accessories available to go with them. And since used gear holds up really well, those ecosystems will survive for decades.

Should you buy a mirrorless camera or a DSLR?

Mirrorless cameras are the latest camera technology for interchangeable lens camera systems. At this point they are superior in every aspect and they continue to improve year by year. Because of that, used DSLRs have plummeted in price. This allows people greater access to a starter ILC (interchangeable lens camera) without a significant investment. You can get professional quality images on either format, but mirrorless has a shallower learning curve and much better automatic modes.

The in-body image stabilization (IBIS) stabilizes *every* lens and the eye tracking autofocus make "focus and re-compose" extinct. These are huge selling points for a lot of people. With IBIS you can take photos with up to 2-4 second shutter speeds without a tripod. And never missing focus on a human or animal or bird is pretty cool too.

DSLR camera bodies are no longer being designed by most of the major manufacturers. Thankfully Canon and Nikon developed plenty of bodies and lenses, so you will always have options and upgrade paths. But you will not be able to upgrade to systems with the latest advanced features.

The best DSLRs available are probably the Nikon D850 and the Canon 5D Mark IV. That is as good as it will ever get. The technology ends there. So if you want to enter an active camera ecosystem then you will have to get a mirrorless camera.

DSLR Camera Systems

Full Frame DSLR Camera Bodies

Canon

If you buy a used DSLR, there are some very affordable full frame options. In fact, the classic much-praised budget full frame Canon 6D can be had for under $300 right now.

This is an old camera. It has no fancy features. It only has 20 megapixels. It just does what it says on the tin. But it has a big sensor and a *ton* of really cool lenses available for it.

If you are specifically looking to create really high resolution panos, you could also look at the 50 megapixel 5DS R for around $1000.

There is a community of landscape pano-maniacs that love to create "gigapans" that have endless amounts of detail where you can zoom in and find new details in every photo. I was only able to create a 120 megapixel photo, but you can still find things like people starting a campfire and a dude fishing and a truck on a far off bridge. So even though this seems expensive for a DSLR, you are looking at another thousand bucks to find anything with more megapixels than this bad boy, so it is quite a good deal relatively speaking.

Nikon

Probably the best DSLRs ever made were the Nikon D800 series and you can get the Nikon D800 for $464.

This is a newer camera than the 6D with more megapixels (36) and a better sensor. It also has a more modern autofocus system and about 3 more stops of dynamic range which can come in handy for landscapes. This is an incredible camera for this price.

APS-C DSLR Camera Bodies

If you aren't sure you want to commit to this hobby, you can look into a Canon APS-C sensor body like the Canon Rebels and Canon 60D through 90D models and get good results.

And there are many Nikon DX APS-C bodies that would be great starter cameras as well. If you get a Nikon, you'd have an upgrade path to the D800 if you get hooked by the photography bug. I would miss a few very special Canon lenses like the 100mm f/2.8L macro and the 400mm f/5.6 telephoto but I'm sure I could figure out some reasonable Nikon alternatives that would do roughly the same thing.

Canon APS-C

There is a Canon 60D for $139 right now that would be perfectly adequate for landscape work on a tripod.

That was my first camera and I took some very nice photos with it. Only 18 megapixels but it has a very convenient flippy screen which was really helpful for a disabled photographer trying to get low angles.

This was in 2014 and I didn't know what I was doing but that is a pretty stellar-looking sunset for a (now) $140 camera.

Nikon APS-C

And the Nikon D3400 would be a great option as well at around $184.

You get some extra megapixels (24) and it is a bit newer than the Canon. I get the sense that used Nikon DSLRs give you more value for your money right now but I don't have a large enough sample size to confirm that.

Full Frame DSLR Lenses

Froggie Note: I am recommending full frame lenses even if you choose an APS-C DSLR body so you have an upgrade path. But also very few purpose-built APS-C lenses had superior glass. Just remember, crop sensor APS-C cameras add ~1.5x to your focal length. So a 16-35mm will have the equivalent field of view of a 24-50mm lens. Still quite acceptable for landscapes, but you may benefit from doing panoramas more often. And if you upgrade to full frame down the road, you'll already have the ideal lens.

Canon DSLR Lenses

If you get the 6D or another Canon you could pair it with the beloved-by-landscapists Canon 16-35mm f/4L.

Honestly, it is blowing my mind you can get that combo for under $600. Me from 12 years ago is super jealous right now.

If you are worried you might need something to work in lower light and still want a zoom, the f/2.8L starts at around $434.

This might be the most famous landscape lens of all time. Kinda boggles the mind how many gorgeous vistas this thing has captured the light of.

If you can live without the zoom, you could get a much sharper prime lens that can also be used in even lower light. A used Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens is $439 would be a fantastic option.

24mm is still a very good focal length for landscapes and the sharpness of this lens lends well to panoramic stitches. Seriously, these art lens are so freaking sharp. Although 35mm is typically preferred for most street photography, I think this would do great for that purpose as well. It couldn't do close up portraits, but 3/4 and full body portraits would look great. I also love this focal length for doggos. It enlarges their heads a bit which enhances adorable-ness.

Though I probably wouldn't recommend the 24mm on APS-C for landscapes as it would put you near a 40mm full frame equivalent field of view.

Nikon DSLR Lenses

And on the Nikon side of things you could get the Nikkor 16-35mm f/4 for $399.

This is a great lens too. Very comparable to the Canon L glass. And paired with that D800 you would have a better shooting experience than with the 6D if it fits within your budget.

It's a little harder to find, but you can also get that same Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens for Nikon at around $528 used on Amazon and in the $400 range on KEH and MPB when it is available.

The older and softer Nikkor 28mm f/1.8 is a little more affordable and easier to find.

What if you are not a dentist but are willing to save up for something a little nicer?

Enter the world of...

Mirrorless Camera Systems

Sony currently has my favorite ecosystem of mirrorless cameras and lenses and they are consistently ahead of the other brands as far as technology and features. In fact, many other manufacturers use Sony sensors. They literally supply their competition with their own tech. They are also pretty good about updating firmware—even with older models. So I feel like Sony has a lot of future-proofing advantages over other brands. Sony has a great selection of 3rd party lenses like Sigma, Tamron, Viltrox, Laowa, Samyang, etc. These lenses often have nearly the same optical quality as Sony's G Master lenses at a fraction of the price.

Full Frame Mirrorless

Currently, I think the best value full frame mirrorless camera for landscapes would be the Sony a7R III.

This is very nearly a top-of-the-line landscape camera for a little over $1200.

That might sound like a lot, but I want to be clear...

This isn't just decent. This isn't "good enough." This is a spectacular professional grade full frame camera.

10 years ago you could spend $6500 for a *worse* camera. 5 years ago you could spend $3000 for a *worse* camera.

It can do every genre of photography except for maybe fast paced sports/action. It has an amazing 42 megapixels—which are not necessary but they do make editing and printing a lot less of a headache. The file sizes can get a little big, but storage is a lot cheaper than it used to be.

Oh, and it can be used for professional quality 4K video work too.

The a7R III comes with all of the modern bells and whistles including in-body stabilization (IBIS) so you can handhold at very slow shutter speeds. It has one of the best autofocus systems—complete with eye tracking. But not just human eyes! Dog eyes. Cat eyes. Bird eyes. If it has an eye, the Sony can probably lock focus on it. And it has an admirable 10 fps burst shooting mode.

APS-C Mirrorless

If you want to enter the Sony ecosystem but can't afford full frame quite yet, you could do the a6400 for about $600.

You still get the eye-tracking and the in-body stabilization, but you will lose some image quality at higher ISOs due to the smaller sensor size. However, you can get the same full frame E-mount lenses for it and upgrade to a bigger sensor later on and not have to buy new lenses.

Mirrorless Landscape Lenses

I think a good value landscape lens would be the very impressive Tamron 20-40mm f/2.8.

This is a newer lens so there aren't many deals on used options yet. But this is still a great price for the quality and versatility you get. You will never regret spending a little more on glass.

The 20mm range can fit an entire cityscape in the frame without needing to do a panorama. But if you zoom to 40mm and mount the camera vertically, you could stitch together several photos to get well over the 100 megapixel range.

Also, the 40mm focal range is long enough to do street photography and even head & shoulder portraits. The wide f/2.8 aperture combined with the high-ISO friendly full frame sensor and in-body stabilization means you can shoot in very low light without a tripod. You can also get some great pictures of stars if you travel to someplace with minimal light pollution.

The cheapest landscape zoom lens I could find was the Sony 16-35mm f/4 at $384.

It's one of Sony's older lenses and may not take advantage of all of the a7R III's pixels, but it would be a good option to get you started in this system and upgrade the lens later on.

Mirrorless Prime Lenses

Zoom lenses are great but you have to spend more to get tolerable quality. Kit zooms can be softer than even the tiny plastic lenses on your phone. So a great way to stretch your budget is to get multiple fixed focal length "prime" lenses. Primes can be built inexpensively while still having good low light performance and decent sharpness.

For instance, you could start with something like the Tamron 20mm f/2.8 for $175. And if you want to do more than landscapes you could add the Sony 50mm f/1.8 for $170 later on. Cheap primes will outperform any of those mediocre kit zoom lenses in that same price range. You lose some versatility and have to deal with the pain of changing lenses or zooming with your feet, but sometimes a tight budget demands a little pain.

There is also a higher quality 3rd party wide angle prime lens that is very popular right now. The Viltrox 16mm f/1.8 is only $549 and the reviews say it has similar quality to lenses 3 times its price.

If you have to choose between a better camera body or a better lens, a good lens will help your photos more than a fancy camera body.

Froggie Note: These are examples. You should always do your own research before making a major technological purchase. This post could be a year old by the time you see it and there could be new stuff that is better. But all of the principles I tried to convey should hopefully guide you to a good decision. Also, feel free to message me if you want to ask about specific gear you are considering purchasing.

More Resources

This is my Encyclopedia of Lens Terms which is a helpful primer in understanding all of the wonderful and different lens options available on ILCs.

This is my buying guide for low budget used DSLRs. Similar to this post but less geared toward landscapes.

And this guide for getting decent landscape photos with any camera.

This is a free tutorial that teaches you everything you need to get started with an ILC system.

And this free tutorial by Karl Taylor is quite good as well.

[imreallyloveleee]

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[etoileholland]

Yours truly

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: a letter box shaped bag prompts Tom to tell you just how much you mean to him

Warnings: none; it’s just my usual fluff :)

A/N: surprise, I’m back! It’s been a very long time since I’ve written something, and although the break was nice, I missed you all :( and since I don’t really know who to tag, I’m going to tag my old taglist + mutuals, but if you want to be added to my taglist please let me know!

While you and Tom were out spending the day going window shopping, you passed by the front window of a Kate Spade boutique, and a blur of red made you turn your head to see what was in the window. What you saw was so beautiful, it made you stop suddenly in your tracks.

Tom, who was holding your hand, was not expecting you to stop so suddenly. “Babe, you’re going to pull my arm out of its socket.” He joked, and was expecting you to reply, but instead you were silent. When he turned to see what you were looking at, your hand was pressed to the glass of the display, eyes wide and lips agape. A smile erupted on his lips as he watched how mesmerized you were by a handbag, and how awestruck you were by it.

It was as if you were a kid in a candy store, or maybe it was more like love at first sight. In fact, the way you were looking at the bag is the same way that he looks at you—full of love and adoration.

He knew he had to surprise you with it.

As he stood there with you, your gaze still fixed to the bag, he waited a minute longer until he decided to speak up. “It is a beautiful bag, huh?” At first you didn’t respond, nor did you show any sign of even hearing what he had said. “C’mon,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze and pulling you towards the entrance. “Let’s go take a look at it.”

That sentence snapped you out of your trance, and without skipping a beat, you stopped walking and stood in place. “Oh no, no, no, let’s not do that.” Your voice got a little louder with every no. “I don’t want to be disappointed by how expensive it is. It must cost at least £200 pounds.”

“I doubt-”

“It’s a Kate Spade,” you interrupted, “her bags are ridiculously expensive.” As you spoke, you continuously shook your head no. “I know it’s far too expensive, and I don’t want to be disappointed when I see the exorbitant price tag.” Your eyes became fixed to the pavement, and your eyebrows furrowed downwards, as well as your lips turning into a small frown. “Can we please leave?”

It pained Tom to see you so sad, especially since he could easily buy you the bag—hell, he could buy you a hundred of them, or even purchase everything in the store for you. It was no problem to him, but he knew that him buying you things made you feel uncomfortable, so he decided not to press the issue any further.

“Okay love, let’s go.” He took a step forward, but instead of following him, you stood there still, staring at the bag. A few seconds passed before you slowly took a step forward, and then walked with Tom away from the window display.

“Maybe one day I’ll see it in a consignment shop, and then I’ll be able to afford it.” You uttered under your breath, but it was just loud enough for Tom to hear it.

A week had passed, and Tom didn’t once stop thinking about the bag, and how much you pined over it. Just the night before, he had a dream where he was in his Spider-Man costume, and had broken into the store to get it for you. Of course, he wasn’t going to do that, but it was all he could think about, even in his dreams.

He knew he had to get it for you, because even though you tried to say you were okay without it, he knew it would make you beyond happy if you had it. Yet, he was aware that he couldn’t get it when you were with him, which seemed to be most of the time. He cherished spending time with you, but he just needed some time alone so he could get it.

While he was thinking of a plan, the opportunity arose on its own, no planning on his end needed.

“Your mum wants me to go shopping with her tomorrow to buy a gift for Paddy.” You announced as you walked into the room, and leaned against the door frame.

“Wait, she wants you to go with her, and not me?” He asked, hoping to feign some sadness, even though he was secretly relieved. He loved his mum, but shopping with her could easily become extremely stressful.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, “I thought the same thing, but apparently she wants me to go with her. She said something about me being a ‘more attentive shopper’.” You said with air quotes, and a slight frown on your face.

Tom, who was sprawled out in his bed, positioned himself so that he could tilt his head up to see you. “Well, that’s odd. I can see she’s playing favourites.” He remarked, trying to not sound too relieved.

“That’s okay with you, right?” You questioned, eyes wide.

“Of course love, just don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I won’t, but let me just text her back and tell her that’s okay.” You bounded out of the room quickly, and when you left, he let out a small squeal. His plan was falling into place, and it seemed that the universe was on his side. He took a minute to think about his schedule tomorrow, and luckily he had the day off.

He was bound and determined to get the bag for you.

—

Almost immediately after you left the house to go shopping with his mum, Tom bolted out of the house and ran out to his car, quickly and messily trying to unlock the car door. When he situated himself inside the car, he pulled out of the driveway to head towards the Kate Spade boutique.

The way he was driving was downright terrible, and borderline reckless, but all he could think about was getting the bag for you. On his drive there, the thought of accidentally running into you crossed his mind, but he shook the thought away.

About twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking garage, stopped the car, got out and locked it. He hurried up towards the entrance of the store, and rushed inside, tunnel vision consuming him. As he looked around frantically looking for the bag, he couldn’t seem to see it, but before he could have a chance to inquire about it, a store clerk came up to him.

“May I help you with something?” The assistant inquired, snapping Tom out of his tunnel vision.

“Actually, yes. My girlfriend saw a small purse in the window display last week, and I was wondering if you still happen to have it.”

“By any chance, did it look like a little post box with a letter inside?” She asked with a slightly sad grin, one that caught Tom’s attention.

“Um yes, precisely. Do you still have any?”

Judging by the assistant’s look, he already knew the answer—he was too late. “I’m so sorry, but there was only one left, and that kind woman at the register is about to purchase the last one.” She stated with sad eyes, and it took everything in Tom to not be equally as upset. “They sold so quickly that we had to request a few more shipments, but there were no more left to order yesterday.”

He looked over to see who the woman who was purchasing the last handbag was, and the woman looked back at him with apologetic eyes. It was a woman about the age of 80, and was a very spiffy dresser at that.

“Love, I am so sorry that I’m buying the last one, but I too have had my eye on it for quite a while.” She spoke just loud enough for Tom to hear her from the other side of the boutique, but just quiet enough for him to walk over closer to where she stood at the register. “Do you mind me asking why you wanted this bag? By the way you ran in here, it seemed like it was clearly an important thing to buy.”

“It was.” Tom answered back as he took a second to think about what he wanted to say. He felt so dejected that there weren’t any words to describe his situation, even though it was a very easy situation to understand. “Last week, I was window shopping with my girlfriend, and she saw this bag and immediately stopped in her tracks. She spent 10 minutes staring at it, or at least it felt that long.” He walked over closer to where the register was and leaned one arm against the counter. “She was so awe struck by it, but at the time she couldn’t afford it, and she refused to allow me to buy it.”

“That’s the mark of a remarkable young woman, you know. Most women would expect her man to buy her what she wanted, but the fact that she didn’t want to buy it really says a lot.” She carefully placed her hand on top of Tom’s in a reassuring way. “Cherish her forever.”

Tom’s vision became a bit blurry as he blinked away tears that were trying to form in his eyes. “I will, I promise.” He lightly sighed, allowing himself to take a second to think. “Although it’s a pretty new relationship, so I hope it works out.” His watery eyes cleared up, and he took one more audible breath. Just then, the kind woman gently placed her hand on top of his, and gave it a gentle pat. When he looked up at her, she was giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Trust me, love. I’ve been around long enough to know if a relationship will work out or not. I thought the same when I met my now husband when he and I were both 17. I was so worried thinking that it may not work out, but he had the faith to know that it would. And he was right, he usually always is, but I try not to tell him too much so that it doesn’t go to his head.” She laughed lightly, and Tom did as well. “All it takes is love, patience and perseverance. That’s the key to a lasting relationship.”

The assistant was moved by the woman’s touching story, and wiped away a tear off her cheek. The woman looked at her and smiled tearfully too. “How new is your relationship?” She asked.

“It’s felt like ages, but in a good way.” Tom answered with a smile forming on his lips. “But in all actuality, it’s been almost three months, but we met a month prior to dating.”

“So that is pretty new.” The kind old woman answered. “What do you love most about her?”

Love, Tom thought. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t think about all the things he loves about you, but to be honest, he hasn’t told you he loved you yet. He hasn’t wanted to rush anything, even though he’s sure he loves you. The idea of telling you that has scared him, because it always seems that when he tells someone he loves them, they disappear from his life forever, just like his previous relationships before. “Well, she’s so patient with me, and beyond understanding of my hectic life.”

“Go on,” the kind woman prodded, already knowing that he hadn’t told you he loved you yet, but wanting to help coax the feelings out of him.

“I have a stressful job, to put it lightly, and not once has she made me feel bad about having to reschedule a date. She’s also ridiculously intelligent, caring, and beautiful, and I wouldn’t know what to do without her, nor would I want to think about that.”

“Well, I can tell that you love her,” she answered, “and I hope I’m not prodding too much, but may I ask why you haven’t told her yet?”

Tom took a second to compose himself. “I’ve wanted to, but I didn’t want to rush anything. I don’t know if this is going to sound dumb, but I wanted to write her a letter telling her how I feel, and I was going to stick the letter into the letter box, which is super dumb I know but-”

“That’s not.” The woman choked out, dabbing at her eyes where they were starting to well up with tears. “That’s one of the sweetest things I have ever heard, and I am beyond happy to know that the younger generations are still just as sweet and chivalrous as the past ones were. At the time when I was dating my husband, he also wrote me a letter telling me he loved me as he went to fight in the war.” She took out a handkerchief from her coat pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again, but luckily he came home safely.”

“I’m happy he did.” Tom responded with tears in his eyes as well. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“You’re welcome.” She wiped her eyes once more, and motioned for the assistant, who was in the back of the store, to come over to where she and Tom were standing. “Letters are a great way to tell someone something, and I’m glad they haven’t died off with the younger generation.” The assistant came over to the woman, and looked to see what she may need.

“Can I please return this bag back to the store so that this young man can buy it instead?” The assistant hesitantly reached her arm out to take the bag, wanting to make sure that the woman really wanted to do so.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you.” Tom responded hesitantly, his voice upturning at the end of the sentence.

The woman waved her hand in front of Tom. “I’m positively sure. This will be the item that will make you cherish your relationship forever, and will even be your lucky charm.”

As the assistant returned the bag back to the store, Tom quickly reached out his arms and gave the woman a quick hug. “Thank you so much, I can’t thank you enough.” When he pulled away, she placed her hand on his forearm.

“You’re very welcome, and I wish you two a long and beautiful relationship.”

“Thank you again.” He responded quickly, and then a wave of realisation washed over him. “I just realised that I didn’t get your name, how awful of me.”

“Beth.” She answered, “and I already know your name, Mr. Tom Holland.” A look of confusion washed over Tom’s face, and before he could ask how she knew his name, she answered, “My granddaughter is a huge fan. I’ve seen all the Spider-Man movies with her in the cinema, and I must admit that you are a wonderful actor.”

Tom grinned his million dollar smile, and began to blush. “Why thank you Beth, I truly appreciate everything.”

The assistant rung up the bag for Tom, and after he paid for it, she wrapped it up nicely and put it in a colourful bag.

“Good luck with everything Mr. Holland, and when you and this girl get married, you better invite me to your wedding.” She rummaged through her bag, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. “I mean it, you know. I better be there for the wedding.” As she said this, she wrote her name, address and phone number on it. “Promise me I’ll be the first person you call after you pop the question to her?” She slid the paper over to Tom and watched as he read it once before folding it nicely and placing it carefully in his wallet. “I promise I will Beth, I swear on it.”

—

Tom knew what he had to do, or rather, what to say. After his conversation with Beth in the boutique, it seemed as though the words were spilling out of his mouth, and the letter was practically writing itself in his mind. All he had to do now was actually buy something to write on.

He thought about buying some cute stationary to match the aesthetic of the bag, but he knew that the words were so loud in his head, that by the time that it would take for him to buy stationary, the words would be gone.

Jogging back out to his car, he began to rummage through the glove compartment in hopes of finding something, anything to write on.

The only acceptable piece of paper was actually a flyer from a chippy, and the only pencil he could find was a tiny one that’s used to keep the score in golf, but it’ll have to do. The words suddenly came to him, and he scribbled them down so he wouldn’t forget.

A fair amount of time must have passed, because it was now beginning to rain outside. The pattering of the light raindrops that were hitting the roof of the car made the small space feel more comfortable, and added the perfect amount of ambiance to continue writing. In fact, tear stains had made their way onto the paper, which surprised Tom, considering that he didn't even know he was crying. The emotions must’ve got the best of him, but he didn’t mind one bit.

At least now he had a physical reminder of how much he loved you.

Wiping the tears off his face, he took a sigh of relief. Writing that somehow felt liberating, and made him almost want to jump out of the car and start dancing in the rain. He felt on top of the world.

As he drove away from his parking spot, about a block and a half later, he looked up to see a stationary store and parked the car in front of the store, and ran inside.

—

Half an hour later, he made it back home, bag and letter in hand. You were still out with his mum, which to be honest wasn’t shocking. I bet she’ll get home well past midnight, knowing my mum, he thought.

Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison went out to go golfing, so Tom had the whole house to himself. He plopped down on the sofa and pulled out the new stationary and pens that he bought specifically for this.

While at the shop, he found a set of letters that looked almost identical to the letter keychain on the purse, and picked out a black pen. He carefully wrote the new letter with penmanship so precise, it made him feel as though he was back in primary school.

About twenty minutes had passed, but the letter was finally done. He had embellished the envelope by adding a couple hearts in different colours, and then carefully slipping the letter inside. Lastly, he wrote your name in cursive on the envelope, and then placed the completed letter inside the bag, right where the letter compartment was.

After neatly reassembling the bag back in its original wrapping, Tom placed the bag inside his closet and thought of a good time to give it to you. The best time, he thought, was to give it to you next week, right before he was set to fly back to Atlanta to finish filming.

—

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” You whined, which was slightly muffled by Tom’s pillows. Tom was sprawled out on the floor, stuffing different articles of clothing into his luggage.

“I wish I didn’t either darling.” He sighed, “but I promise I’ll be home before you know it.” He answered, knowing that he wasn’t entirely telling the truth. He would be gone for at least 3 months, which was going to feel like an eternity. The thought alone made him almost start crying, but he was trying to stay strong for you. He also couldn’t help thinking that you would leave him, since all of his past girlfriends left him due to the distance. It was just a matter of time before you did the same, but he tried not to dwell on that nagging thought. He knew you were patient, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

“Maybe I could come visit you, you know, when I have a chance?” You asked hesitantly, knowing full well that you were busy with work and school.

“I wish you could, but we both know that isn’t plausible right now.” It sounded harsher than he had intended to be, and he mentally grimaced. You, however, knew he was right. He had told you before that he doesn’t want you to sideline your own life because of his.

“I know.” You answered dejectedly, “but if and when I have a break, I’ll come out to see you.”

Tom finished folding his clothes, and stood up. Without saying a word, he looked over at you and noticed that your face was squeezed against his pillow, your eyes closed. And so; he went to his closet and moved the sheets that were covering your present. In one motion, he grabbed the bag and turned on his heels, and made his way back to his bed.

Without you noticing, he sat down and placed the bag in front of you, and poked your shoulder until you looked up at him.

“Hmm?” You inquired. Instead of responding, Tom scooted the bag closer to you, while sitting down on the corner of his bed. “What is it?”

“Sit up.” He instructed, and as you did so, you saw a gift bag placed in front of you. “Open it please.” He insisted, watching intently as you began to take the tissue paper out of the gift bag.

“Tom, this isn’t what I think it is, right?” You trailed off, and while Tom didn’t give you a verbal answer, it was written all over his face.

“The suspense is killing me,” he pleaded, “please open the bag.”

You did as you were told, and gasped when you pulled the purse out of the gift bag. It was even prettier in person, and somehow more breathtaking.

“Babe, I, what?” You choked out, unable to say anymore. A part of you was so happy that he gifted you with this, but another part of you knew how expensive the bag was.

“Now before you get mad, I know you said you didn’t want me to buy it for you, but I just knew that you wanted it, so I just had to treat you.” He stammered out, “please don’t hate me.”

Overcome with emotion, you threw your arms around Tom’s neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap. “I love it.” You whispered into his neck, and placed a kiss on his neck.

“Promise me you’ll keep it?” He asked, “I need you to promise me you won’t try to return it.”

“I promise I won’t. I’ll cherish it forever.”

—

Tom left the house at 2am, and was headed towards the airport. Leaving you was the hardest thing that he’s ever had to do, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

As you laid in his bed, bundled up in his sweatshirt, you clutched the bag to your chest. It was such a thoughtful gesture for him to buy it for you, but a piece of you did feel guilty that he spent the money on you.

The words he told you not to return the bag echoed in your head, and even though he made you swear not to do so, it did cross your mind. So, you thought, the only way you would be less tempted to return it is if you emptied out your old bag and put your belongings in that one instead. It took you a few minutes to do so, but now seeing your things in there made it feel more like yours.

Doing so tired you out, as it was now almost 3am. Clutching the bag as you settled into bed, you drifted off soundly, mentally preparing for your day tomorrow.

—

Waking up without Tom felt so strange, not having him there next to you. You checked your phone and saw a text from him, saying he loved you and landed safely, complete with a ton of heart emojis. It put a smile on your face, and quickly you typed back that you loved him more, and wished him luck on his day ahead.

About an hour later, you were off to your 9am philosophy class, one that you typically dreaded going to. Sometimes it was a heavy class to start the day off, especially when the coursework focused on the depressing aspects of life and hardship. It was a class that you always hoped to skip, but Tom always made sure you didn’t skip, no matter how badly you wanted to.

As you walked up to the door, you began to slow down. Was it worth going to class, knowing that you’re already pretty bummed out because Tom is away?

When the thought crossed your mind, you could hear Tom’s voice in your head convincing you to go. So, you drudged your way to the door and pulled the handle.

You walked to your seat and slumped into your chair, and placed your new bag on the empty seat next to you. When you went to grab your notebook and pencil, you looked up to see your friend Ella sitting in front of you, body turned to see you.

“Ooh, cute bag!” She exclaimed, eyes bright and cheerful.

“Thank you,” you answered, “it was a gift.” Your tone was a bit more curt than you had expected it to be, but you didn’t have enough energy to try to sound happier.

“Wow, I wish someone would gift me a present that nice.” Ella responded.

The girl sitting next to Ella, one that you didn’t personally know, turned around to see your bag.

“My sister has that same bag, and she loves it. It even has a secret compartment inside the letter keychain.” When she said that, your brows furrowed.

“Hmm, really? I didn’t know that.” You reached for your bag and placed it on your lap. When you pulled out the letter compartment, you noticed that, indeed, there was a hidden zipper. You slowly opened the zipper, and saw that there was an envelope inside. “Well that’s odd, there’s a letter inside, I didn’t know it came with one.” When you took a closer look, you saw that your name was written there, in what looked like Tom’s handwriting.

“It didn’t,” the girl replied, “or at least, it wasn’t supposed to.”

Ella gasped dramatically, “Maybe it’s from the person who gave you the gift—you should read it.”

Luckily, you didn’t have to tell her no, because at that moment, the professor began to start his lecture. You zipped the zipper shut and placed the bag next to you, although you noticed your heart was racing. The thought of Tom writing you a letter made you feel giddy, and in a way, saddening. It made you realise that he wasn’t here with you, but instead thousands of miles away. The class went by ridiculously slowly, but when the professor wrapped up his lecture, you bolted out the door. You sped walk to the nearest bench underneath a pine tree, and hurriedly sat down, reaching for the letter.

He had placed the envelope in there neatly, and even wrote your name in cursive. There were little hearts drawn all over the envelope, even going as far as addressing it from Atlanta, as if he really sent it through the post to you.

The attention to detail already made tears fall onto your cheeks, knowing that Tom really went out of his way to write you a letter. Carefully, you pulled the letter out of the envelope, straightening it a bit before reading it.

My eternal love,

I’m glad you found this letter, sealed and ready for you to read it. I had thought about giving it to you before I left, but I hope this makes it even more special.

When I went to get the bag for you, I had a long conversation with a woman who reminded me how important love is, and how I shouldn’t take it for granted. And, after talking to her, she knew that we had the kind of love that will last a thousand years, and span a million lifetimes.

I now just realised that of course, our relationship is still relatively new, but she just knew that what we have is special; and well, I hope so too.

All my thoughts are consumed by you and you alone; about how happy you make me feel, how safe and secure I feel in your arms, and with you, I feel that anything is possible. The world seems kinder and nicer with you in it, and I feel a sense of divine happiness that I’ve never felt before when we’re together.

I haven’t said this to you yet, or at least not out loud, but I love you. I really, truly, love you. I’ve never been more sure of anything, but this I know indefinitely.

I love all of the little things about you-how you are incredibly patient, loving, and caring. I love when you run your fingers through my hair after a long day, calming me down instantly. I love how you give me your million dollar smile when I kiss you on the cheek, and how you make me feel calm and safe in my extremely hectic life.

All I know is that I love you, through and through, and I hope you feel the same way too.

Forever yours- no matter how far away I am from you,

Tom x

By now, you could hardly read through the tears. You had no idea he was so poetic, and how open he was being with you right now, and the image of him writing this heartfelt letter brought happy tears to your eyes. He loved you so immensely, and it was so comforting to have him say it.

As you wiped the tears with the sleeve of your sweater, you knew you had to tell him you loved him back. And so, you opened up your text messages, found your guys conversation, and voice messaged back,

“I love you more.”

——

mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @sinisterspidey @cali-holland @duskholland  @yourstrulyamour​ @determined-overthinker​

[fascination-street-writing]

Somewhere to Begin | Pannacotta Fugo x Ghirga!Reader

He has always adored you, like the sun and the moon and more - but he had a brilliant way of convincing you otherwise.

- 200 Follower Giveaway Piece iii for @idontlikerisottounlessitsnero​ -

Content Warnings: Not SFW Content, Post Break-Up, Emotional Hurt & Comfort, Regret, & Explicit Sexual Content (Aged-Up Characters)

You had promised your brother Narancia to never involve yourself directly with Passione; even the occasional stay for a meal at Il Libeccio made him antsy, yet you failed to see the harm in sharing a plate of bruschetta with Fugo, or a pot of hot tea with Abbacchio – two of his closest companions. It was only fair that you ought to spend time with the men who gave you unbridled protection at the behest of nothing more than goodwill and magnanimity. Not that you needed such security, but it kept street thieves from picking your pockets, at least.

You had promised him indeed, and now that he lies in the casket before you – clad in the suit from your mother’s funeral that you never thought to see him wear again – you intend to keep it. Giorno had offered to have an outfit tailored for your brother, but you refused him with consternation that your he would not be buried in something from the boy responsible for his death.

“No,” you had told him, cold as the wall of ice that has crept around your heart, while clutching the woolly material to your chest. “This one will do nicely.”

And so, the mortician severed the seam along the back of the jacket and draped a silk sheet over Narancia’s legs so that no one would be wiser to fact that his ankles stick out past the bottom hem of his trousers. It was bad enough that you could not afford the casket on your own. You knew better than to believe it when Mista told you that it and the headstone were paid for with the money yielded from the liquidation of Bucciarati’s assets. If that were true, then why not pay for a new suit, too?

Trish snatches a single white lily from the memorial wreath and tucks it between your brother’s still, clasped fingers. She hides her grief behind a pair of sunglasses that do not match the overcast weather that looms above your heads. You had not wanted to wait so long for the funeral – for two months, Narancia’s body had been left in the morgue to chill on ice, par Giorno’s insistence that the service must wait until his transfer of power over Passione has finished.

Thus, for two months, you had lain awake at night, shuddering at the melancholy and its melody that reminds you how you your brother died without saying farewell – his platonic little soulmate. Giorno may have his victories and suffer for them, but you would not let him entomb Narancia in the mausoleum with Bucciarati and Abbacchio.

“He’ll be buried next to our mother,” you said to the new Don with indignancy. “After everything you’ve taken from me, let me have this. Lascia che mio fratello torni a casa – let my brother come home.”

Your wish was granted, though you suspect it only so because he was growing tired of fighting with you over burial rights and passages. The congregation is kept small, consisting only of yourself, Mista, Trish, a tortoise named Jean-Pierre Polnareff, regrettably Giorno, and a handful of bodyguards, though the latter kept their distance from the immediate service; it would not come as a surprise to you, should you learn that the men in black suits were employed to protect their Don from the mournful sister of the deceased.

The handkerchief clutched in your grasp is damp with past tears. Not even your father had come, despite your pleading that he ought to pay his respects to his only son. Too preoccupied with his floozy of a new wife and her children from two previous marriages than to love his own – you never needed him in your life anyways, because you had Bucciarati. Now, you suppose that you must be a proper orphan.

You do not weep when the casket seals and cleaves the line of sight betwixt you and your brother forever. You do not weep when the mechanical apparatus lowers the coffer made of Osage orange wood into the steel vault that already holds your mother in oak. You do not weep when the gravediggers shovel the dirt mound back over the crest of opened earth.

You do not weep until Mista clasps your trembling hand, pulls you to his chest, and embraces you amidst the anguish that burns you alive. His is the consolation that you needed, but never thought to ask for, though it is not his touch that you long for. One by one, the attendees disperse for the train of luxury cars and you remain alone with the gunslinger who had been courteous enough to come without his oddly patterned beanie hat.

“Why don’t we get going?” Mista urges to coax you away from the gravesite – away from yourself and the suffocating agony. “Giorno’s having dinner for us all, back at the estate.”

You pull away. Rivets of mascara stain his white dress-shirt. “You can go on ahead,” you tell him, not quite liking the way your voice strains in your throat. “I’m not hungry.”

“Then, let’s go grab some coffee or something –”

“I’m fine, Mista.” He frowns and averts his gaze. “I have some things I need to take care of.”

“Oh?”

You tug your cardigan closer to your chest. “I’m going to collect Narancia’s belongings from our dad’s house. Not sure what I’ll do with it all, but I know it can’t stay there.”

Mementos of life, from when things were far simpler and your brother far more alive. Family photographs with tattered edges and holes of where your father should have been, wedged between unread and abused schoolbooks. Worn out blue jeans with patches of fabric scraps from your mother’s old dresses that you had sewn on for him. A collection of empty glass soda bottles. CDs and cassette tapes of Snoop Dog, Tupac, and whatever other American rappers had appealed to his tastes.

“Alright, I guess. Promise me you’ll call when you get there.”

Soon to be packed away in cardboard boxes and to be stacked precariously in the living room of your studio apartment – another gift from Bucciarati – with nowhere else to go. You simply cannot afford to rent a storage unit downtown.

“I will.”

Mista does not offer to help, because he knows you will refuse it. With that, he takes his leave of you in the cemetery. Left to your solitary devices, you clench your fists and stew on hatred and loathing for none other than Giorno Giovanna. You do not blame Narancia for his eagerness to trust the boy so quickly; his charisma, as appealing as it entreats to the willing, is an infectious disease.

If not for Giorno, your brother would have been buried two months ago. If not for Giorno, your brother might still be alive. And perhaps you must resent Fugo too, for what he has done – or rather, the lack thereof of doing; yet for everything, you are incapable of such feelings, as you have always been fond of each other. The optimistic heart within you stands that he has saved you from suffering more – that in his choice to stay behind in Venezia, it only meant you would not have to bury him, too.

Because surely, his unrestrained anger would have gotten him killed – if not before, then certainly after Narancia’s death.

With a quivering sigh, you turn from this dreary place and meet his illegible violet stare. A row of crackling headstones separates you from the boy whom you love more than life itself. Fugo clutches a pretty bouquet of daffodils wrapped with parchment paper and a white-string bow – your favorite flowers, though you wonder whether they are meant for you or your brother’s fresh grave.

You do not know, nor will you ever, as he sets the flowers atop the nearest monument and makes off, as if on sabbatical to you.

And it fills you with nothing more than bitterness.

“Everyone misses you,” Mista confesses between a sip of tea and a bite of strawberry cake. “You should come around sometime soon.”

Nearly a year has passed since the funeral, and you have yet grace anyone from Passione with your presence, with the exception of Mista for weekly sojourns to Il Libeccio to catch up on life – because, as you have learned, much can happen in seven days’ time. With each occasion of crossing the archway’s threshold into the private dining room at the back of the restaurant, you find yourself preening for two heads of black hair – one neatly combed and clipped, the other a sprawl held in place with an orange headband –, taut lips painted in black, and Fugo. And every time, you are left with the kind of disappointment that curdles your soul like sour milk.

“Who misses me, Mista?” you reprimand, pointing your icing-lacquered fork in his direction. “I barely even know Trish, and I have no interest in ever speaking with Don Giovanna again.”

You wish Giorno would call off the bodyguard who trails you every waking hour of the day; it makes you feel like a child who has proven herself untrustworthy to her parent. But you have done nothing deserving of such punishment. You suspect that his intent is an extension of the olive branch treaty that does not exist between you two – a reiteration of Bucciarati’s protection that should not have to be reiterated, because he should not be dead, either.

Or, alternatively, he wants to irk you so far that you might barge into his office one day – fuming with unspent determination to admonish him regarding his dominion over your life – just to trap you in a conversation wherein he might attempt to suspend your animosity towards him. Alas, you are simply not interested; you will scorn him, because it is all you can do.

“Forget I asked . . .” Mista trails off, swirling a dollop of whipped cream with his knife. “So uh, by the way, have you seen Fugo lately?”

Just the utterance of his name has you perking in your seat.

“No.”

“Hm, well, rumor has it, he’s working at the public library. Shaking people down for late fees or something like that.” It is not implausible to imagine Fugo in the position of extorting old ladies and young children for overdue fines – but, you know that it is only a jest. Regardless, he has always been the type of boy to surround himself with books instead of people. “Why not visit him sometime? He’s not affiliated with Passione anymore. Or, not now, at least.”

You stab at a strawberry. It bleeds beneath the weight of your fork.

“I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Mista’s question is one that you ought to be asking yourself, as you sit here at the scratched pine desk of the library – pretending to study for an upcoming exam on the history of art in Pompeii – though you look up from your scrawl of notes every few minutes to see if Fugo should pass you by; perhaps pushing a cart of books to be put away, or branding return cards with a plush red stamp to mark the date in two weeks’ time.

You have seen him only once more since his implied attempt of reconciliation at your brother’s funeral. It was by chance that you should wander into the same café as him that day; and by extended odds that – while you stood over his table with a sad smile and a cup of coffee – he stood abruptly and left without finishing his own drink. He had not even bothered to wish you well.

Today, you catch him on your way to the reference section. The look of hurt in his eyes – like salt instead of sugar on the tongue – brings a scowl to your face. “Please, Panni,” you plead, and though your fingers ache to catch his hand with your own, you refrain for you know the gesture is a crossing of the line between you two. “Can’t we just talk?”

“No,” he says, so dry and unrecognizable. “I’m not getting paid to do that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Panni, I – Please, don’t do this. I already lost my brother: don’t make me lose you, too.”

A fuse switches in his head, and you have been the one to flip it. He clutches the encyclopedia in his hands with such fervor that his knuckles pale, and for a moment, you wonder if he means to hit you with it. And maybe he thinks it too, but he drops it atop the ground as soon as the thought crosses his mind. He takes a step back, as if you have scorned him – maybe, after all, you have.

The cover spills open, and the pages bend against the hardwood floor. You wish he would do the same to you – to disclose his grievances and let you in. Instead, it is the toxicity of acrimony “Don’t ever come near me again,” Fugo warns. “Haven’t you realized by now that I never want to see you again? Get out of my life – get out of my dreams – and leave me alone.”

You will save the tears for when you stand in front of the bathroom mirror tonight before bed to wash away your makeup from the day, amongst other regrets. But you will never understand the guilt that suffocates him – a noose that is just taut enough to keep him breathing – each time he looks at you, and even when he does not. You are everything he has ever wanted and more.

And you are the emblem of everything he has ever done wrong.

“I still care about you,” you tell him with an affirmation that will not fix the desolation. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He bites his lip and looks away.

“I know you’re hurting. I am too. So, can’t we heal together?”

“Are you stupid?” You grimace at his words. “I told you to go.”

There is no chance to dispute it, nor to bid him an aggrieved adieu, because he is gone again. Burying him might have been easier, after all; a corpse cannot remind you of what a fool you have become.

And so it seems to you that dying dreams are the best ones.

Adulthood is – as you have found in your years of treading its waters – a dreadful inevitability. You and your brother’s boxes have outgrown that compact studio apartment, though for years, you had made it work perfectly fine. When Giorno pulled the strings to terminate your lease and forcefully relocate you into a sizeable townhouse in the Chiaia district, you wanted to hate him for it – for his reminder that you cannot sever your connection to Passione. Yet, boggled down with university loans, you were in no position to turn down his assistance.

And he knew it, well.

A pretty townhouse located in one of the nicest regions of Napoli cannot bring Narancia back, nor can it attune for every bit of suffering incurred since his death; but if it is a strain upon the aging Don’s wallet, then it is all the better.

On the day of your fourth birthday spent in solitude, you treat yourself to a tub of gelato and a dress from the costly boutique across the street that you will never wear because you have no need to. It will hang in your closest amongst other unworn gowns, still pinched with price tags, that you have impulsively accumulated over the years – a hereditary habit of your mother’s that had caused more than a few spats between she and your father. You know your vice, but there is something so gratifying about it.

You sink into the tweed couch that does not quite match the architect’s vision for the living room – with its crown-mould white walls and hardwood floors the color of wenge; too clean and proper for what furniture you have kept from your former residence. Silver spoon clenched between your teeth as you page through television channel after channel, you balance that melting gelato on your lap. Perhaps you should have grabbed a straw from the kitchen as well.

The evening passes by, uneventfully so. You have spent it spoiling yourself and replying with fabricated enthusiasm to incoming text messages from study mates, who wish you well on this happy day – as if you have a reason to remember your twenty-first beyond the accomplishment of finishing the entire tub of would-be-frozen lemon curd without incurring a single regret or twinge a of brain-freeze. You have gotten rather good at knocking back shots without needing to stop for breaths, too.

At the ringing of the doorbell, you are torn from the real estate program that you have invested so much time these past few hours. Mista, no doubt – come to deliver a gift and takeout because he knows you have not eaten properly tonight. You have no room left in your belly, but whatever he brings will make for a decent meal tomorrow.

You do not bother to tidy up, and when you open the door, you wish you had. Illuminated only by the balcony light stands Fugo with a bouquet of daffodils, a bottle of sauvignon blanc, and a remorseful, sheepish smile upon his handsome face.

Get out of my life – get out of my dreams – and leave me alone.

“Uh . . . “ He trails off before he has even begun, perhaps taken aback by the widening of your eyes and the disheveled appearance that, despite your own judgement, he thinks to be the most beautiful vulnerability in life. He speaks your name with the kind of tenderness that you have not felt since you were teenagers. “Buon compleanno.”

You need not ask how he found you, because you know without question that either Mista or Giorno had told him. “Why are you here?” you ask.

He clutches the flowers a bit tighter. You do not move to take them; however, you have already decided on which vase you will place them in. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. And give you these.”

The bottle of wine feels far too heavy in your arms – and the daffodils, as if they might float off in an unforeseen gust of wind. “And, to apologize. For too many things that I can’t ever make right; although, if you’ll let me, I’d like to try.”

“Fugo, I . . . I don’t know.”

“Please, [Y/N]. That day in the library, all those years ago . . . I never stop thinking about the horrible things I said to you. It killed me – it ate me alive; I thought for all this time and before that you hated me, because of what happened to Narancia. Because I wasn’t there to save him.”

“It hurt when you told me to get out of your life, but I listened, and I did it.”

He brings the heel of his hand to swipe at the tears in his eyes. The curling of his other fist is a gesture that terrifies you – although, not for your own sake. “I couldn’t face you. I was scared to look you in the eye, because I thought you hated me,” he mutters like a broken record as his voice cracks with agony. “I thought you hated me, because of him.”

He stops, throwing his head back with a groan. The apple of his throat bobs up and down as he chokes down a sob. He refuses to look at you when he speaks again – too afraid to come undone before he has made his peace with you, his greatest loss. “We were young. Probably too young to even understand what love really meant. But, dio dannazione, you were the most important thing to me, and I understood that more than love.”

His words have always held the capacity for swaying you, as if they replenish the empty spaces within. It is why, as you open the door wider, you let him fill you once again. Fugo contemplates the crannies of your living room, hovering above the couch that you insisted he take a seat upon – he remembers when you bought it, because you had dragged him to the furniture outlet that day. He pretended to be annoyed, though in truth, he was beyond elated that you had chosen him over Mista, or even your brother.

“I guess I should put these in a vase,” you say about the bouquet of flowers. “They’re beautiful, Fugo. Thank you.”

He nods, suddenly entranced by a photograph of Narancia that sits atop the fireplace mantel. You do not notice his unease.

“I’ll grab us some glasses, too.”

You find your vase in the kitchen cabinet niched into the alcove above the refrigerator. Its emerald swirls glisten under the twine of the recessed lights that add no character to the room. So much for a birthday spent in reclusion, you chide alone. Deep within you sits a fire that longs to ignite – to send Fugo away in some thwarted act of retribution for the very loneliness he inflicted upon you years ago; as if to say that the rejection suits you well.

Of course, you cannot deny that your heart leapt into your throat when you saw him standing before the front door, a vision of a man who still held those inklings of boyish charm that you fell for in your adolescence. They say you should not dote over the first person beyond your mother and father to call you pretty; it is weakness to complacency. Your life has never been one of convention – and so by that right, who there is to insist that you must abide?

Bearing a content grin, you trim the stems one-by-one to better fit the vase. In synchronous rhythm to the next, the green stalks bounce from the cluttered countertop to the floor. You have only just stuffed the flowers back into the vase when the shattering of glass resonates its way into the kitchen.

The photograph of Narancia lies amongst bits of broken frame and wreckage. Face buried in his palms, Fugo crumples until his knees meet the ground; he shakes, as if smothered by a chill. When his hands fall to smack the coffee table – baring his grief, in all its pandemonium – you catch them and force his arms around your waist instead; his fingers lock together, holding you in place. He whimpers against your stomach. Already, you can feel the wetness of tears through the fabric of your overstretched shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry, [Y/N]. I’m sorry.”

Your own fingers curl through his strawberry blonde hair – a means of stability as you too have begun to cry. “It’s just a picture frame,” you promise, and it is the grandest thing he has ever heard. But it is more than a box made of wood and glass – it is an impossible longing. “I’m not upset at you.”

“I . . . Okay.”

Mindful of the mess, you rock him backwards until he is lying down. You join at his side, take his hand into your own, and wait in silence for the moment when his misery will dissipate for clarity. Regardless of the circumstances that have brought him here tonight, you are grateful for it – even if your birthday is spent wallowing in irrevocable regret.

Above all else, you know that he has always adored you, like the sun and moon and more – but he had a brilliant way of convincing you otherwise.

Your thumb coaxes over the back of his knuckles. “There’s a crack in your ceiling,” Fugo announces, nonchalant and monotone.

“Where? I don’t see one.”

He raises an unoccupied finger, and you follow its gesture to the corner of the ceiling, just above where the moulding meets. It is no longer than the length of hair from his head, and quite honestly, not an underlying issue of foundational complications. Still, you indulge him. “Oh, wow. I never noticed.”

In this hasty repertoire of patterns, you fall into stillness again. “Panni,” you whisper with the utterance of his endearing name. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He squeezes your hand.

“But it’s getting late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

Truthfully so, you cannot send him on his way in such a state of disarray.

“I can make up the couch for you, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

However, you do not make it far because he has – inspired by a need to express his devotion and apologia – pulled you atop himself, hands braced on your hips as you balance on bent knees and grasp his shoulders. Tenderness is becoming of the boy – no, the man – who looks up at you as if you are the embodiment of everything good that exists in one life to the next. It is a side that he has never shown to anyone other than you.

You covet it like a piece of cherry-flavored candy, even when you lean down to capture his lips and nip at his tongue that likewise explores the long-forgotten caverns of your mouth. It is a distraction of meaning and not; from the broken frame, loss, and perhaps everything in between. Every attempt to catch a breath of air is met with resilient protests of needier touches and not before long, you lie on the couch – shedding your clothing like the skin of the woman you no longer wish to be – and let him in.

Bare chest to bare chest, you cup his hardness as he places his fingers to your untouched folds. You mean to tell him that you love him, but the penetration of unpracticed digits to your core stifles the very thought from your scattering mind. In dark closets and empty rooms, you two have had your share of imprudent experimentation with one another’s bodies in the past – and nothing more than warm, tentative touches that lead to girlish giggles and boyish huffs.

Fugo pinches your nipple, drawing a plush gasp from you; it urges him to do it again until at last you are throbbing with need from your lower half, your pelvis jerking upwards to meet his for the stimulation of wanting. His breath ghosts your face, and you think you smell wine – a drink for good luck, you think, because despite the distress manifesting in his soul, his mannerisms are otherwise as habitual as you might recall from moments of normalcy.

It feels wrong – to be filled with such wanton, salacious desire within the very hour that you have both spent in mourning of your brother and everything else that has been discarded to the wind, to be picked up by someone else. Yet tonight, you will not sleep with Fugo to forget your blue heart, nor for celebration’s sake as you embark upon another year of being – you will sleep with him, because you have grown tired of learning how to end your days without him.

“I haven’t . . .” You trail off, mesmerized by the way his violet eyes look at you; though puffy and stained red from crying, you take them in as he cocks a brow, imploring you to finish your thought. “I haven’t been with anyone else since you.”

“Good,” he sighs, and you think he is trying to hide a smile. “Me neither.”

Braced by his arms, you are flipped onto your stomach. The tweed upholstery bites into the soft flesh of your breasts with each jostle elicited by the curling of a finger within you. You push backwards until you swear you can feel his fingers against your cervix.

“Oh my god,” he groans, flexing out as if to move deeper. “Ti senti così bene.”

“If it feels good, then do something,” you whine, hands dug between the cushions for support.

But, to your chagrin, he takes his time to admire the way your folds pulsate around just two fingers. You glisten like a gem – his gem. Indignant with petty annoyance, you pull away and straddle the lithe, albeit toned, legs that dangle off the edge of the couch. Arms thrown around his neck, you sink down until you have reached your fill of his manhood.

“I did tell you to do something,” you sigh at Fugo’s displeasure, biting your lip as you adjust to the size of his shaft. “Didn’t I?”

He kisses you once and moves grasp your backend. You savor the feeling of him ingulfing you. “I was distracted.”

You would laugh if not for the anticipated bulging inside you as Fugo buckles into your heat. The sight of your jostling breasts with each bounce of you on his cock is a page of some heavenly doctrine – one that he should study and commit to forever. He moves with strength that he reserves for moments of rage, and even his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises for the days to come. You do not mind; they will help you to remember the best night you have had in years.

With a cry that blossoms into a moan that tells him that he has treated you well, you ride out your orgasm and slump against his chest in your own exhaustion. When he reaches his peak, he slides out; you reach for him – dampened with your slick – and finish him until white pearls bead at the tip and trickle over your working fingers.

Foreheads pressed together, you flash tired grins before settling against the cushions, your head pressed to his chest and his arm braced around the small of your back while his fingers trace shapes against your perspired skin.

Panting, his heart skips every few beats – like a song, sung only for you. Content with that which has returned itself to you, you fall asleep to the sound of this lovely little love affair.

| 4966 Words |

[thedreadvampy]

there are times when I really do feel that certain people just Don't Want You To Get Better

(1am Upset Rant incoming)

and it's fucking exhausting tbqh like I'm not trying to say 'I was sad once so you have to let me become Elon Musk.' I don't believe in the transitive properties of poverty or trauma or disability or disprivilege to make Everything You Do Henceforth be ok

but like

idk I do feel like I often have people in my life who responds to anything good happening for me with like 'well that's nice how about you come down from your castle and spare a thought for those of us Embroiled In The Struggle' and it's like

I spend literally most of my time thinking, talking about and trying to support with that stuff. bc I know it's important. because I just went through it.

and I'm not trying to say 'fuck you got mine.' I'm not trying to take this for granted. but Jesus fucking Christ I've literally JUST got into a position where I have disposable income. like I've had this job less than 4 months. and I feel like people jump down my throat for not giving all I own to mutual aid funds every time I mention it. I'm able to afford to give a lot more than I was, which is why I am currently giving somewhere in the vicinity of £200-300 a month to shelters, crowdfunders, crisis funds and local food banks. which is something I flatly couldn't do when I was on £16k a year. but fuck me I spent the first five years of my adult life literally destitute and reliant on the generosity of my friends and family. I have experienced the long term trauma of poverty and it nearly killed me. I have spent years taking and taking and feeling like shit about being a burden without a future and I just feel like can I not just enjoy having ENOUGH for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES? like sue me I spent money on buying fun shit for people I like. fucking. come at me I guess for trying to do more than survive.

like fuck ok so there's this whole thing that upset me where (I think) one of my friends has reacted really quite passive-aggressively to me saying I thought I should pay my therapist more now I'm earning a living wage. and you know what I fucking stand by that. she dropped her prices well below the bottom of her sliding scale so I could access therapy when I was struggling a lot financially, is it actually a fucking crime if I want to use some of my money to pay her back for that by paying her standard rate? like shit I know it's not radical praxis but it's not exactly buying a private yacht is it? and also like. can I just say it fucking sucks how it makes me feel to be paying so far below her set taste? it makes me feel like a charity case and like a fraud and is it actually in fact a moral failing to want to not feel like I'm a net drain on people's resources? to want to pay people back by doing things for them they don't need just because it's nice and might make them happy? fuck!

and this is like. mental health stuff too. like I genuinely feel like there's this thing with some people when they're deep in the weeds that you feeling better makes them feel like you're being smug at them. like there are a bunch of people in my life who I feel like I have to not mention that I'm doing better bc they'll just go in on the 'OH that must be SO NICE unfortunately I am on fire and dying and will never ever ever feel remotely ok. glad you have that privilege though.' and it's like. I get that. I very much do get it. It's really fucking hard to watch other people doing ok when you're not and it can bring up all sorts of shit. but ultimately it comes down to - getting better is good. it's good if people are happier and more stable. and it feels. actively fucked to feel bad about doing more ok. even with little small steps it sometimes feels like there's always somebody who'll be like 'oh you didn't want to kill yourself today AND you got up and showered and ate? MUST BE NICE I ATTEMPTED TO OFF MYSELF THREE TIMES THEN STARVED'

like it's GOOD to talk about what's up and to keep an eye on community responsibility and to keep people accountable for using their privilege to help others and not pull the ladder up after them. but fuck man like sometimes you just want to be glad that things are going better without feeling like you need to apologise for it.

like things have been pretty fucking rough for a big chunk of at least the last decade for me. my mental health has been Very Bad since I was 6. my physical health has been Moderately Bad since I was 12. I have been through the fucking wringer in terms of domestic and sexual abuse since idk 9? 11? 14? I have been homeless, I have been long term destitute, I have spent the last seven years barely scratching a living, and you know what, now things are finally ok I think I've earned the right to just. Exist in that for a moment. I'm not trying to say I've suffered The Most or even that unusually much. I'm not trying to say I Should Get Whatever I Want Because I Was Poor Once. I just. I want to be happy that things are ok and leave it at that sometimes. I want to be happy that I'm earning more than the bare minimum I need to survive. I want to be happy that I have partners I love and trust and I'm slowly starting to learn how to build healthy friendships and relationships going forwards. I want to be happy that I know how to manage my disabilities now so that they barely impact my life and I want to be happy that I have a job and a social circle that support me to do that. I want to be happy that for the first time in my life I feel ok most of the time, not just bearably miserable, and I'm not living with the constant background thrum of panic and loneliness that was so universally part of my life I didn't even know it was there until it stopped. I want to be happy that things are ok and I'm not going to lose my house or be unable to eat or have to beg money off my loved ones to survive. I just like. I want to just enjoy that a little bit and I don't think that's too much to ask.

(and idk I also think. It's kind of politically useless to treat people like traitors or like tourists once they achieve a level of stability. and I do mean stability not wealth. like this is. the point, right? the point is to get better. for everyone to have the right and the ability to live stable, safe lives? so why does it feel like if you get out of instability and distress, even if you're not exploiting anyone to do so or worsening anyone elses situation directly by doing so, that's Betraying The Cause?)

[laundryandtaxes]

What type of watch’s do you recommend? I’m a baby bi that’s a tomboy and I want nice watch but I know there’s a certain etiquette when it comes to watches. I like rolexes but that’s waaaaay above my budget, I want a nice watch but something affordable (: thanks in advance! 🥰

Honestly this will depend a lot on your budget and what "affordable" means to you! To me, "affordable" means that I can reasonably expect to be able to save up for an item within several months WITHOUT it impacting my general savings goals. For me, that number means that a watch that costs around $500 is one that I personally consider affordable, but that number may be higher or lower for you.

The first question to ask yourself is whether you prefer an automatic watch, a manual wind watch, or a quartz watch. The watch I wear almost every day is an automatic watch- that means it is wound by the movement of the wearer's wrist in daily life. Automatic watches will have a /relatively/ smooth seconds hand sweep, and really nice automatic watches will have extremely smooth seconds hand sweeps. Even office workers generally move their wrists enough to power an automatic watch. However, if you sit an automatic watch down for longer than what is called its "power reserve," normally between 24 and 48 hours, it will stop, and that means you'll need to reset the watch to wear it again. Here is my Traska Freediver, my daily wear watch. It is an automatic watch, in a dive watch style.

Dive watches are so called because the design was originally made for divers to be able to time how long they'd been under. In the dark, like I imagine it would be 150 meters under the surface of the ocean, dive watches pretty much all have some material applied that makes them glow in the dark so the wearer can measure time under, and can read the time itself. I use my countdown bezel regularly for timing pasta, timing tasks at work, etc.

A manual wind watch is one where the owner needs to manually wind the watch, usually around once a day, to power it. Again, if you do not wind the watch regularly, it will stop. For both automatics and manual winds, this is not a problem and in fact it can be good to give a watch some rest time occasionally. Both automatic and manual wind watches are not 100% accurate- they will have a range of how many seconds they lose or gain in a day. Really well made watches by companies like Omega and Rolex can sometimes run off by as little as a 4 to 6 seconds a day, while cheaper watches may lose or gai. as much as 10 or 20 or in bad cases even a couple of minutes per day.

Quartz watches are powered by a battery. The way they work is, basically, that a quartz vibrates at a particular frequency, which translates into one movement of the seconds hand per second. This is the tick tick tick you're likely familiar with in watches. These watches are inherently more accurate than Rolexes because they are more accurate than any automatic or manual wind watch. You can sit a quartz watch down ans pick it up a week later and it will have kept perfect time. However, the smooth sweep of the seconds hand is usually very expensive to accomplish with a quartz watch. A lot of watch snobs turn their nose up at quartz watches because most mass produced watches today are quartz powered, but the truth is that this was a revolutionary technology at one point that almost killed the luxury watch market because it meant any $10 Casio would inherently keep better time than any automatic Rolex. Now, many luxury watchmakers produce both automatic and quartz watched, including Rolex and Omega. I own several quartz watches, including a Casio Databank and a Timex Q I actually got for free through a butch group on Facebook! The very first watch I ever wore every day, when I was maybe 20 or 21, was a Timex Weekender, and it's what got me into watches. Here is my Databank. It cost me maybe $25 and I can do math with it.

The second question to answer is whether you care about what is often called "heritage" I the watch world. This refers to a company having an extensive and well-repsected history of making competent watches. Companies with undeniable heritage that make affordable watches include Seiko, Hamilton, Bulova, and frankly Casio. There are others, of course, but there are a few to get you started. Traska, the brand that made my watch, is what's called a microbrand- microbrands buy movements (the guts inside the watch) from other companies and most of them create original designs of their own, but they're young companies that don't have 100 years of watchmaking experience.

The third question to answer is whether you're okay with "homages," a euphemistic term for a watch that outright copies another, more famous and usually more expensive watch, sometimes while changing a design and sometimes not. Pagani Design, a company that makes their watches in China to keep costs down but lately has achieved really exceptional metal finishing for the price, pretty much only makes homages, like their recent copy of the Rolex Explorer 2. Ginault is a company that makes higher end Rolex "homages," which in this case we really can pretty much call copies because rumor has it they used to sell counterfeits and then got so good at it that they decided to put their own brand on the package. The Invicta Pro Diver is a Rolex submariner homage, but most owners say theirs is built well and Invicta makes plenty of, most horrible but sometimes classy, original designs as well. A lot of watch snobs will turn their nose up at homages because the watch will lack "heritage," but only you can make the call of how much original design matters to you. If you see anything that says it is Bauhaus inspired, anything with "sub" in the name, anything with all round hour indices except a triangular 12 o clock marker, you're probably looking at an homage.

So once you've got your answer to those questions you can dig into watch models! I'm going to rattle off a bunch of watches around or under $250, because I think spending more than that on a hobby you may not be that into is kind of silly to start. From Seiko, their SKX007 and the smaller SKX013 are undeniably classic, well made, respectable watches. Their SNK809 (these are called references, and they're annoying) is also an undeniably well respected watch that has enough water resistance for fishing on my experience. And while their Seiko 5 Sports line isn't for me, lots of people really enjoy it. You USED to be able to get an SKX007 for around $200- they're discontinued for some reason, which means prices have risen, but sometimes you can still find them around that price. For around the same price, you can generally find a used Hamilton Khaki King or other Khaki model in good condition. You can also go vintage with either brand, but be aware there are loads of fake vintage watches out there, so do your research before purchasing if spending what is, to you, a lot of money. The SNK809 was my first automatic watch, and here's it on my wrist.

You can also find lots of cool vintage automatics and manual winds in this price range, including the Vostok Amphibia. These were Soviet watches designed for divers. The countdown bezels suck ass, but the design is original and cool and the case is actually designed so that it grows more and more waterproof as a diver dives further under the surface of the water. Here's my Amphibia.

If you think quartz will be your thing then you've got loads of options in this price range. Pretty much anything by Timex, including their very cool Timex Q, loads of watches by Casio, lots of Seiko quartz options, etc. In terms of truly iconic affordable quartz watches I think the Mondaine watch whose name I cannot recall, the Casio F91W, and the Casio World Time are all very classic, well respected quartz models.

I know this was a lot, so let me know if you have more specific questions or if certain things really pique your interest more than others!

[coderfortourette]

Kentucky and California

Kentucky and California are friends who know absolutely nothing about the other person. Most of their friendship just involved info-dumping about something they like to the other.

It started because Kentucky loves basketball and wanted to talk about it with somebody. The only team with more wins then him? UCLA, located in California. Now, Kentucky is bit of a snob when it comes to basketball. But he can appreciate a team that does well.

It's been established during a sketch that California doesn't really keep track of all his sports teams. Granted, that was a football sketch, but the point still stands. So when Kentucky approached him to talk about basketball, he's lost and confused.

Even though he doesn't understand, California doesn't turn Kentucky away when he starts talking. He knows what it's like to want to share information and have somebody listen.

And this grows into a mutual relationship for the both of them. One of them will talk on and on about something. And the other will sit their the whole time and 'listen'. (Neither one actually retains what the other says).

State: Hey Cali, you and Kentucky are friends. What would he like for his birthday? California: Oh... yeah... I think it's something sports related. Basket weaving? Maybe? I'm not really too sure.

I also have a universe where Kentucky and California are pen-pals to lovers. Except... they have no clue they are each other's pen-pals. At all. Even though it's been nearly 200 years since they started writing them. And no mortal human could have survived that long to keep writing.

Kentucky sent the first letter. He was bored and interested in what was going on out west. The letter wasn't really addressed to anybody. It just said "California" across the top. As such, the letter was handed to California, who decided to respond because "why not?"

California would sometimes send flower pressings and even a tiny gold nugget with his letters. Kentucky has kept all of them safe.

During the Civil War Kentucky was not able to respond to the letters. He was too busy trying to avoid the fighting. Especially since his state was a 'border' state. Before he fled up north, he wrote a short letter to Cal F. informing him of the situation. Kentucky signed it "Still alive. Look forward to reading your letters".

After the war the letter writing went back to a normal pace until the Great Depression. Kentucky didn't have much money and couldn't afford to spend it on paper. So he took one of the letters Cal F. sent him and wrote to him, telling him supplies were tight.

California responded with a 1-page letter telling him to keep safe and worry about surviving. He included extra papers in the envelope. Try to send one every 2 months if possible.

Until the economy recovered, their letters were short pages. All of them consisted of the phrase "Still alive. Look forward to reading your letters".

During the modern day, they can use email and stuff to communicate, but they prefer sending letters still. And their send off is always "Still alive. Look forward to reading your letters". Their version of the Princess Bride's "As you wish".

Everybody else at the statehouse has already figured out that they are pen-pals. Except these two. Because they are just oblivious idiots who share 1 brain cell. And it takes a vacation every time they send a letter.

Kentucky is freaking out one day to Virginia that he's having troubles with his love life. You see, Kentucky really really likes California. But he also really really likes his pen-pal. What does he do?

Virginia, the state for lovers, is not impressed with his brother's idiocy. He teams up with Oregon to sit Kentucky and California down to explain.

V + O: Here are the facts. You both have a pen-pal. This pen-pal has been sending you letters since the 1850s, longer then any human can live. These letters are going between California and Kentucky. You two are literally the only states to have pen-pals. K + C: Ok yeah. So where are you going with this?

On the other side of the statehouse you just here anguished screaming.

They actually have matching tattoos as well. A parchment with a fountain pen next to it. There's writing that reads "Still alive. - Ken T./Cal. F." (Kentucky got the one that reads Cal. F. and it's in California's handwriting. California got the Ken. T. one and it's in Kentucky's handwriting.)

They got these tattoos at separate times without discussing with the other. California got his first. And when Kentucky went in to get his, the tattoo artist noticed how similar it was to Cali's. Kentucky just gave them a blank stare.

During a pool party or something, that's when they notice each other's tattoos. And it's just a simple "oh, nice tattoo". Virginia lets out some northeastern words that he learned from Massachusetts. Because this is just ridiculous at this point.

They do realize they are each other's pen-pals a few days later though. And they pretty quickly start dating after that.

[raeynbowboi]

How to Play as Starfire in DnD 5e

After finishing my build for Raven, I figured it was time I go through the entire team and do their builds. I’ve done Starfire before, but I wanted to give her another look before moving on to the boys. And if there’s interest, I’ll also consider doing Terra as well. But before I can build the alien princess, I must first decide how best to incorporate all of Starfire’s powers into one build.

Star Bolts

First we must answer what exactly are star bolts? And the best that I can answer is that they are orbs of condensed energy, which causes them to radiate heat and produce light. When it comes to how to implement them we need to keep a few things in mind: 1. Star bolts are quick and easy, and she hurls them in succession. 2. They most likely deal Fire or Radiant Damage 3. They are primarily a means of long-range combat, though she can use them in close quarters. 4. They can be condensed into a beam, shot out of her eyes, gathered into a large star bolt for a massive bomb, or to enclose herself in a massive star bolt that expands in every direction from her to hit all nearby enemies.

RACE Scourge Aasimar. Your body radiates light energy that harms everyone, including you.

BARBARIAN Wild Soul. When the Wild Soul Barbarian enters their rage, one of the things that can happen is firing a beam of radiant damage, but this is on a table of rolls, so it’s only a good choice if your DM would allow you to only ever use that effect. But it still only activates when you enter a rage, and can’t be used otherwise.

Zealot. While it doesn’t specify shooting beams of light, the Zealot Barbarian can deal extra radiant damage when they attack. Make her an unarmed fighter and she’s punching people with radiant hands.

MONK Sun Soul Monk. This subclass can shoot blasts and beams of radiant damage while also being good at melee combat. The downside is that Monks use Wisdom, and realistically, Wisdom should be Starfire’s lowest stat. She’s gullible, trusting, and easily misinformed. It’s sort of the same reason, I’m not even considering Light Cleric. Plus, Raven is the healer. If Starfire has healing, it takes away from Raven’s role as the support caster. Fortunately the damage is calculated with Dexterity and not Wisdom, so if crossed with a Barbarian for instance, she can still get the unarmored defense, just picking the Barbarian’s DEX+CON over the Monk’s Dex+WIS. But even then, Starfire is really more of a Stronk than a Monk.

Four Elements Monk. Fangs of the Fire Snake can add Fire to your punch which can travel 15 feet, and it’s treated as a punch, meaning that multi-classing this with a Barbarian or a Fighter can really put your muscle and Strength score to use, which is better than the Sun Soul that works by Dexterity.

Spells Light Firebolt Sacred Flame Burning Hands Guiding Bolt Aganazzar’s Scorcher Scorching Ray Fireball Flame Strike Sunbeam Sunburst

Features Magic Initiate: The only requirement necessary for this feat is to know a spell. If you’re a race like Aasimar that comes prepackaged with spells, you can absolutely use this to get cantrips like Firebolt and cast it even as a purely melee build.

Super strength

Goliath Stone’s Endurance can help reduce damage taken.

BARBARIAN By building a pure Barbarian to level 20, she can have a STR score of 24, which is definitely above mortal STR caps.

BRUTE FIGHTER The brute puts even more muscle behind everything they do, and deals extra damage.

Manual of Gainful Exercise While it is an item, it’s one that can raise Stafire’s strength above superhuman levels

Odysseys of Theros: Supernatural Gifts (Variant Rule) Unscarred. Basically the same thing as Goliath’s Stone Endurance.

Odysseys of Theros: Piety Boon (Variant Rule) Piety 50 to Magis, God of Slaughter Piety 50 to Iraos, God of Victory Piety 50 to Hesiod, God of the Sun Piety 50 to Purphoros, God of the Forge Piety 50 to Klothys, God of Destiny All of these have the potential to raise your Strength score by +2 to a maximum of 22, though of them, Iraos is probably the most appropriate.

Flight

Races Aasimar (Protector) - limited Aarakocra Dragonborn (with feat) Winged Bloodline Tiefling

Subclasses Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer Divine Soul Sorcerer Phoenix Sorcerer - limited Storm Sorcerer - limited Vengeance Paladin - limited Eagle Totem Warrior Barbarian - limited

Spells Fly Otherworldly Form (grow wings)

Items Winged Boots Wings of Flying

For race, I did consider Goliath as a valid candidate, as it allows Starfire to lift, carry and push heavy objects, reduce damage from hits she takes, and allows Starfire to easily tolerate cold climates, which don’t bother her. However, Starfire’s primary role is as the party’s blaster, dealing damage is her bread and butter. It’s hard to overlook the fact that the Aasimar adds radiant damage to its spell and melee attacks for 1 minute (10 turns) meaning that from level 3 on, once per long rest, she can deal up to 30-200 extra radiant damage if combat lasts the full 10 rounds. That extra damage is hard to ignore, especially with how much it adds up in the end. The Protector Aasimar gets to deal all that extra damage, and fly as well to boot, so we’ll pick it for Starfire’s race.

As a warrior princess, we’ll take the soldier background for Athletics, and swap out Intimidation for Acrobatics. Then we’ll pick Intimidation back up and pair it with Persuasion from our Sorcerer skills list.

We do good for the sake of goodness, not for law or personal interest. We’re Neutral Good.

SORCERER Phoenix 

Channeling more of Starfire’s comic book origins, we’ll make our powers stronger through our emotions and personality, like a Tamaranean. As a Phoenix Sorcerer, we’ll add our Charisma mod to fire spells when we use our Mantle of Flames feature. You could consider the Phoenix Spark which brings her back into the fight to be her warrior fighting spirit giving her a second wind in combat. Nourishing Flame could likewise be a flavor of her supernatural toughness, giving her the strength to carry on. Finally, her Form of the Phoenix lets her fly when she activates her Mantle of Flames.

The most important stats for Starfire are going to be Charisma, which controls the power of her star bolts, her Strength which should defy mortal expectations, and her Constitution, to let her shrug off blows. However, the only way to make everything maxed is with manuals to raise her physical stats.

STR 20 DEX 10 CON 16 INT 8 WIS 9 CHA 20

Starfire’s Spells

CANTRIPS Control Flames Create Bonfire Dancing Lights Firebolt Friends Green-Flame Blade Light

1ST LEVEL Burning Hands

2ND LEVEL Aganazzar’s Scorcher Dragon’s Breath (reflavor as eye-lasers) Scorching Ray

3RD LEVEL Fireball Fly (self only) Melf’s Minute Meteors

5TH LEVEL Immolation

6TH LEVEL Investiture of Flame Otherworldly Form Sunbeam

7TH LEVEL Delayed Blast Fireball Fire Storm

8TH LEVEL Sunburst

9TH LEVEL Meteor Swarm

Variant Rule: Mythic Odysseys of Theros

Unscarred. When you take damage, use a reaction to reduce the damage by 1d12 + your Constitution modifier. You can use this feature once per rest.

Piety. Iroas, God of Victory

+3 Cast Compelled Duel equal to your Charisma mod per long rest +10 Cast Crusader’s Mantle once per long rest, and have advantage against being frightened +25 As a bonus action, no creature can get advantage against you for 1 minute per long rest. +50 Increase your Strength or Charisma by 2 to a maximum of 22.

Looking back on our build, we’ve done pretty well. We have 4 methods of flight avilable to us: Radiant Soul, Fly spell, Otherworldly Form spell, and Form of the Phoenix. Her power is also very commendable, as she’s able to deal a lot of damage. Unfortunately, she is held back by a need to have maxed out STR which admittedly gets in the way of improving her Constitution, or taking a feat. Speaking of which, Elemental Adept would be nice for such a one-trick pony, but her Alien strength warrants such a high score. If you know your DM will be a bit more liberal with the manuals of gainful exercise or the manuals of bodily health, you can afford to spend an ASI gaining Elemental Adept, or if you don’t care about her STR score and only want to focus on her role as a magical blaster, then max out her Constitution instead and/or pick up Elemental Adept so nothing can resist your fire. But Starfire  does what she’s meant to do, hit like a truck, shrug off injuries, and rain down righteous fury from the sky.

[aforrestofstuff]

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he’s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

[deadinsidedressage]

I saw this post talking about exorbitantly expensive riding apparel and I had some thoughts on it, but naturally I’m blocked so here’s my very clearly talking about another blogger’s post post. Anyway, someone was talking about equestrian sports being subject to the unnecessary richy-rich prices to the tune of: $2,000 for boots $2,500 for a helmet $3,500 for a show coat $700 for a polo shirt They also made a point that you can get quality work boots for $120 that are made to last for years.  Someone else commented on it making a point that you can get a serviceable helmet for $60 dollars. 

Here’s the thing, there is a floor price for quality and a ceiling price for name brand name. At the end of day, quality materials, good manufacturing, and  sustainable products cost more  In 10+ years of showing consistently I have bought about as many pairs of $150-$250 boots. Ariat, Dublin, and Mountain horse are all brands with very affordable options but with all three brands I got 14-18 months of use before having to spend more money on either repairs OR a new pair of boots when the cost of repair was close enough to the cost of buying another pair. At some point, $800 for a custom pair of boots that’ll last 10 or more years with quality care make more sense. I don’t know where someone is finding $120 work boots that are made to last “years” on a job site (in my experience with tradesmen in the family that’s not a long-term boot)--- but even so... work boots (non-steel toe especially) are going to made of cheaper materials like rubber and canvas while also being ankle high versus knee high. Overall the production cost will be less for them so they’re not a perfect comparison for price points. Do I understand the need to buy the lower item initially because the buy-in is what you can afford regardless of loss of money over time? Yes, absolutely. I lived that. However, after wasting about $3,000 on boots that broke down quickly I bought a bespoke pair when I could afford it as in investment in/present for myself.. Are fully custom boots a luxury? Sure, but I also have never had boots that actually aided in leg stability and support before so it’s a luxury I’d opt in to when I can afford it. My boots also did not cost anywhere near $2,000. I would not trust my head to a $60 dollar helmet. In fact, there are plenty of times over my years here where I’ve commented about seeing a certain brand of cheap helmet shatter upon impact with the ground. What I wear and what most of my friends wear are roughly $300 dollar helmets purely because that’s the price point where quality and aesthetic align really nicely. If you’re going significantly over that you’re just paying for brand recognition and design options.  As far as the literal clothing aspects of riding... this is where we’re budding into the greater fashion industry crisis that is fast fashion. Cheap options are cheap because of the low quality material, minimum thread count, and extremely low production cost (generally due to exploitative labor). It’s alluring because you can outfit a large wardrobe of clothing with a relatively low buy-in, but it’s clothing that isn’t going to last long term let along into the next season. The point is that the clothing will wear out quickly so you’ll put more money into the clothing industry than you would if you purchased mid-tier. $20 dollar breeches exist, but they also generally foretell a future of split seams and worn through holes. Pricing up even $30 more dollars on cost for something like that will give you a product with at least minimum double the “shelf life”. A $50 show coat can last years and be just fine.  The issue I have with the original post is that exorbitantly priced items, or even exaggerated prices, being directly contrasted with exceptionally cheap items even further inflates the perceived dichotomy of equestrianism being only either extremely affordable or pricing people out of the sport. Are there items that absolutely do not need to exist at their price points? Yes, absolutely (looking at you $900 Hermes crop). However, luxury pricing and brands are not unique to the sport and are not responsible for the inaccessibility of the sport. Low quality items shouldn’t be lauded as good just because there’s an such a negative association with spending money for quality automatically equating to spending money to spend money. Like I stated previously, there is a floor price point for quality and when you spend under it for any given item you are getting a lesser quality item period. Are there items where you can “afford” worse quality for the sake of spending less? Yes, $20 breeches might blow the crotch or knee patches out every 3 months but they’re not going to harm your horse. A $200 new saddle likely will. At that price point for that product you are absolutely sacrificing more production quality along with material quality which will mean a piece of equipment not actually fit with any living creature in mind.  If you look at mid-tier pricing that’ll knock you into a much better quality bracket and last you 3-5 years the numbers look more like: $350 for boots $150 for a helmet $65 for a show coat $30 for a polo shirt There’s an issue with affordability in the sport, but attacking pricing of luxury brands or being critical of pricing of quality items without recognizing their pricing is reflective of better products isn’t going to make the sport more accessible.  Show fees are something to look into. Lack of accessible quality education is something to look into. A continued culture of us vs. them which encourages degrading quality and promotes insular learning that doesn’t provide growth beyond a minimal skill level is something to look into too. 

[foxholistic77]

Ableton Amazon

To use any version of Live you need an Ableton account. It takes less than a minute to create one, and even less to log in if you already have one. Amazon.co.uk: ableton live 10 suite Select Your Cookie Preferences We use cookies and similar tools to enhance your shopping experience, to provide our services, understand how customers use our services so we can make improvements, and display ads, including interest-based ads. Amazon's Choice for 'ableton live' AKAI Professional APC Key 25 - USB MIDI Keyboard Controller featuring 25 Piano Style Keys, 40 Buttons and 8 Assignable Encoders, for Ableton.

Ableton is undeniably one of the most popular DAWs on the market, but it is quite pricey.

If you are just getting started with music production it can seem like a big investment, but is Ableton worth the money or is it superfluous? Can you get the same elsewhere for cheaper? Why do people consistently shell out for Ableton Live and other Ableton products considering the price?

Ableton Live is very good for certain types of producers, usually those in specializing in electronic music production. The live functionality, intuitive loop-based production, built in instruments, samples and effects and integration with Ableton Hardware make it well worth the high price tag.

If you do want a truly elite piece of software for making music, there aren’t that many options. If the workflow of Ableton suits your production style then this is another big plus point, as Ableton is quite unique in its layout. Plenty of musicians are happy to pay the price considering the features Ableton has.

The Ableton Pricing Model

Ableton Live has three versions. Intro, Standard and Suite. They all look very similar to start with, but if you buy Standard or Suite then you can enjoy extra VST instruments, effects and loops included. Plus, Ableton Live Intro restricts quite a few of the features and functions of the software.

While Ableton Live Lite might be decent for playing around and getting used to the interface, the cheaper price tag shouldn’t be enough to tempt in serious musicians. It is quite restrictive. For instance, you can’t add more than 16 tracks to a piece of music you are making. It is definitely designed to try and get you to upgrade to Standard or Suite.

Luckily, once you have purchased one version of the software, Ableton will let you upgrade, so you don’t have to pay the full price to get the next level of software.

This upgrade cosy is a bit of a hidden cost to consider, you do have to pay to upgrade if you want all the features of the new software. You can still carry on using the old versions of Ableton though but you will always feel like you are missing out on something! These new versions come out every few years on average. Ableton is currently on version 10.

The price for the full version is similar to the price of Pro Tools, a competing piece of software, which is also extremely powerful, and aimed at musical professionals. There are some cheaper alternatives, as we will come to later on in the article.

Which Producers Will Find Ableton Worth the Investment?

Arrangement vs Live View

Whether or not you find Ableton worth the money will largely depend upon how you use it, and if you find the workflow suitable for you.

The ‘Live’ in Ableton Live is there for a reason and the software is made with the idea of playing live heavily integrated. For this reason it has additional functionality to other DAWs and why it is favoured by many dance music producers who may want to take their creations to a live setting.

Instead of the linear “arrangement” window, Ableton also has its Live window, allowing you to audition loops and mess around with effects in real time. This is why so many dance music producers, and people who use a lot of loops in their production, have found Ableton to have a suitable workflow. This style is great for DJs who are used to working in looped modes, thinking of music in more of a live capacity.

If you’ve used DAWs before and like working in an ‘arrangement’ view then you may not even use Abletons ‘live’ view and that means you are paying a lot of money for something you aren’t using. There will probably be cheaper DAWs out there which will be just as useful if that is the case.

Alternatives if you would rather work in this “linear” fashion include Logic Pro and Pro Tools. There are some cheaper alternatives, too.

Whether you find Ableton Live worth the money isn’t just about how much it costs, it is about whether it aids your production or not. Many producers describe themselves as “clicking” with the Ableton layout. If you’re used to DJing and want to be able to audition loops in a more live environment then it certainly could be your production companion.

Hardware Integration

Ableton manufactures its own hardware, and there is a lot of third-party hardware designed to link up with Ableton Live and give you a hardware controller with an instant Ableton setup. Ableton’s own “Push” is one of the instruments that a lot of people like the idea of playing.

In the words of Ableton, “Push is an instrument that puts everything you need to make music in one place—at your fingertips.” If you want hardware too, this might come into your consideration.

Some hardware and even affordable MIDI keyboards come with Ableton Live Lite as standard, so this can be a way to trial the basic version of the software without having any extra expense.

How Will You Know if Ableton Live is For You?

We realise our answer to whether Ableton is worth the money is going to be frustrating for some people, as we can’t give you a “yes” or “no”. Plenty of people get a lot out of Ableton Live and would never switch to any other piece of software, which speaks volumes, but we definitely recommend trying it out.

Luckily, Ableton gives you a 90 day free trial of Ableton Live Suite. You can simply download the software from their site.

Some functionality is limited, and after 90 days you will have to make the decision of whether or not to pay for it, but this is pretty standard. The key is the fact that you will get to make the decision yourself after using Ableton Live for a period of time.

The question of ‘which is the best DAW’ is one you will find many conflicting answers for all over the internet. The reason for this is there is no one right answer. People tend to choose a DAW early in their production career and become familiar with it and often end up loving it.

I have used Ableton since I got a free copy of Live Lite when I was just 15. I am now familiar and comfortable with how it works and that is one of the most important factors. You don’t want to be spending hours or days re-learning a new piece of software when you could be writing music instead!

The Competitors to consider

Best if you don’t want to spend anything: Garageband

Readers of the blog may know I often rave about Garageband. This DAW gets a bit of stick because it comes free on Apple products but I think that is unfair. For a beginner, it is a great way to learn about music production and how to arrange a musical composition.

The software is easy to start using and comes with some pretty nice sounding virtual instruments as well as letting you record your own of course.

If you are simply interested in getting started now for free, then give it a go. As musicians, we can get bogged down in talking about software and hardware but in reality, those are just distractions from actually writing and recording music!

The downsides of Garageband will become apparent as you progress as a producer. You are very limited with the number of effects and plugins you can use and more advanced production techniques are really a no go. But because it was free you haven’t lost anything.

Ableton Launchpad Amazon

The other major downside is that you can only get Garageband on Apple products and so if you own a Windows computer or laptop you won’t be able to get it.

Once you are comfortable with the principles of recording music on Garageband, transitioning to a paid DAW like Ableton will be much easier. It’s a great stepping stone for a beginner.

Best if you aren’t interested in live performance: Logic Pro

If you are a Mac user, then you might be wondering whether Ableton Live or Logic Pro is more suitable for you to download and start using. Obviously, there is an element of personal preference, but both have an incredibly professional reputation and relatively simple layout.

The full version of Logic Pro is less than half the price of the full version of Ableton Live, which is a considerable saving.

If you have a free reign to spend as much as you want then this won’t come into your consideration, if you want something that is affordable as well as high-end then the affordability of Logic Pro might come into your thinking. Logic Pro still has plenty of virtual instruments and inbuilt effects, and the costs are considerably lower.

Once again I’m afraid Logic is only available on Apple products. But I do really recommend getting an Apple computer or laptop for music production which I explain in this article if you are interested.

Amazon Ableton Live

A Cheaper Alternative on Windows: Reaper

Reaper is a DAW that has increased in popularity immensely over the last few years. And this is mainly due to its very low price point.

You can get a non-commercial licence for Reaper for just $40 whereas a commercial licence is just $200. Most individuals will only need the $40 licence.

Reaper can be a little bit daunting to get started with as it has so many customisable elements. But that can be a strong point too. If you are comfortable with computers and don’t mind spending time getting to know the ins and outs of a piece of software then Reaper is a very cool option.

Where it falls down compared to Ableton are again mainly the ‘Live’ elements. It isn’t tailored in the same way towards dance music production or live performance. But if you are looking to record using acoustic instruments rather than produce within the computer using MIDI and loop based production then Reaper is a very interesting option.

Students and Teachers – Don’t Forget Discounts

Ableton Live 10 Suite

A quick reminder for those who are looking to keep costs down. If you are a student or a teacher and can prove that you are involved with an educational establishment then you can make use of discounts of up to 40%.

This significant saving can tip the balance of whether or not you want to buy Ableton or not. Ableton is not the only software offering this discount for students, but if you are eligible then you shouldn’t overlook the saving that can be made.

Conclusion – Is Ableton Worth the Money?

Whether or not Ableton will be worth the investment for you is an individual decision to make. There are plenty of cheaper (and even free) options out there but that doesn’t mean you should dismiss Ableton.

Ableton really shines for certain types of producers and musicians. If you like to write in loops, use a lot of MIDI or software synths then Ableton is hard to beat and is extremely powerful. You aren’t paying all that money for nothing.

Ableton Push 1 Amazon

That said you are paying all that money for nothing if you don’t use it to it’s full potential. If you are simply looking to record a few tracks using live instruments and vocals, Ableton is probably not the best option in terms of value.

Amazon Ableton Live 10

I personally use Ableton and have for years and so can vouch for it fully. If you think it could work for you give the 90 day trial a go and make sure you maximise that time. Explore the 1000s of Youtube videos about the software and watch people make tracks using it. If you are still unsure then try the Lite version next, you can still make some pretty cool tracks in that limited software. Then finally you can take the plunge on the final version!

[aliciameade]

A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land 

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans 

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up 

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

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

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there. 

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

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

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

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

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

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

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

[kaiba-cave]

I don’t know why I haven’t like “announced” it here yet when I’m always using tumblr to complain about my dad in general and my mom needing me to drive her everywhere, but... I am FINALLY moving out. And yes sorry this is a long ass post lmao. I GOTTA TALK ABOUT IT.

I managed to find an apartment for $825 all inclusive including internet and laundry, and it’s like a minute away from where I work which is AWESOME. It’s a studio and tiny so no bedroom, but it’s all I need for just me and my little bunny. My mom found it on Kijiji and I spent like a literal month going back to the ad and staring at the pictures and I finally just messaged the guy to ask if I could see it. I had already managed to save up enough money for one month’s worth of rent, and he did want first + last but didn’t need first until I actually moved in. So I gave him last month’s as the deposit which I had saved, then that gave me all of March to get first month’s. And if I couldn’t manage to save the $825 in March then I clearly couldn’t afford it, but turns out I actually can.

It’s in the basement of a giant house that’s actually three apartments (one on each floor). The landlord lives on the top floor with his pregnant wife and two other kids, lmao, and there’s apparently a middle aged lady on the first floor. Then me! The landlord seems like a really nice guy too, he’s a younger dude and he was willing to do month-to-month instead of a lease like just in case it ends up being too much for me and I can’t stay. But I’ve figured out all my money shit and I can definitely afford it, I just have to be careful with how much I spend on other crap besides food.

I also ended up calling credit counselling and setting up things with them that will help me pay off all the credit card crap I owe with a much lower monthly payment than what I was paying before. It still seems like a lot (it’s like $270 a month) but I was paying $200 for just ONE credit card before that. So having ONE payment per month that covers FOUR different debts (three credit cards + a loan) helps soooo much. Not even just the fact that it’s a lower payment but that it’s one big payment instead of a bunch of smaller ones I have to keep track of. It’s much less confusing. And they ask about all your expenses and stuff to make sure you have enough to live afterwards so that’s great.

No more freaking credit cards for me EVER. I don’t care if they build credit. No. Unless it’s like a $100 limit that I can literally pay back right away then no, lmao. And I’m not allowed to have any while I’m with them anyway. I even had to change banks because you’re not allowed to bank with a bank you owe money to when you’re doing this. But the lady I talked to did say I’m actually lucky because some people are so far in debt that they owe money to like, ALL the banks and actually have a hard time finding one. So I guess at least I wasn’t that bad off. D:

Also my mom did a “test run” of our taxes and if she did it right I should be getting about $700 back so I can use that to get any furniture I don’t already have. IKEA and Wayfair are surprisingly pretty good with a lot of prices.

SO YEAH I’M EXCITED. Me and my dad are equally as excited to get rid of each other! My mom is less excited but my dad already knows he’s gonna have to start driving her around if he wants me to leave and her to keep her job lmao.

So it’s been what, like, a few months since the last BIG fight I had with my dad. And it was from that day on that I was looking at apartments EVERY SINGLE DAY. For the last few months all I did on Facebook was look at rentals in the Marketplace. And it’s hard to find anywhere less than $1000 around here, and $825 is like the top of my budget, so I was super lucky to find somewhere I can afford where there’s no bills, and it’s REALLY close to work, which also means even LESS gas than I already pay.

I can move in on April 1st, and I have a vacation week in April too so I’ll be able to stay home and get used to it and figure out where I want everything to go and stuff. Gonna be good to finally be by myself, but not so far away that I can’t see my mommy and Pa whenever I want to, lmao. Aw yeaaah.

[adashofstarshine]

A Ramble about ToTS Guilt

Also kind-of an updates with Dash post.

Recently I’ve come to name the nagging sense of guilt I’ve been feeling whenever I create anything. It’s called ToTS Guilt. Whenever I create anything different, I feel bad that I am spending that time not writing The Terrors of Tin Street.  I keep reminding myself that ToTS is what people want to see. ToTS is the reason I have two supporters on patreon. So why am I not giving people what they want? Why am I drawing stupid MTG pin-ups when people clearly want something else?

Well, it comes down to the fact I am 200% stress right now and this is not helping. I want to do something fun and relaxing, and the fact that I feel guilt no matter what I do is only making things worse.  It also doesn’t help that the comments on a ToTS chapter provide a nice boost of self-confidence and validation. However, I simply don’t want to write ToTS right now and I hate the fact my brain seems to think I’m worthless if I don’t.

Why am I not in the mood for ToTS right now?

Well firstly, we’re at War of the Spark. I set out on this fic proclaiming I was going to write a better version of War and that’s only put pressure on myself.

Secondly, the next lot of scenes I’ve been looking forward to take place after War, so I’ve got a dozen chapters of things I have to write but aren’t particularly fun to write. 

Thirdly, writing ToTS is hard when I’m not having fun. It takes 2-3 days of solid writing from morning to evening to create a ToTS chapter. (Unless I’ve hyperfixated on a particular scene, where it’ll take 1-2 days.) I am already super stressed! I can’t concentrate on this fic when I’m too busy crying about how I’m going to afford my meds and the new expense that is driving!

Lastly, I keep getting comments about people scolding me for ‘not knowing the lore’ and ‘getting things wrong all the time’. THIS IS AN AU!  It’s not going to be the same as canon! Why did you click on a fic labelled as an AU and expect it to be canon?!!! Why did you read over 350 THOUSAND WORDS and then decide it’s not canon enough for you. Go kiss Greg Weisman’s ass and get off my fic!

So what do I want to do instead?

I want to do what relaxes me in this time of infinite stress, which is mostly drawing. And if I do write, it’s going to be short silly stress relief pieces like Niki trying to eat a whole roast chicken for a bet. (Currently in the works.) If I can’t get the self-esteem boost from ToTS reviews, then I guess I’ll do what makes me happy and see if that works. 

I’m also going to draw what I’m calling the Lingerie Collection. It’s planeswalkers in nice undergarments. I like designing lingerie and now I have some anatomy practice under my belt, I think I can do the characters justice. It also helps me practice drawing different body types too! Next pictures I’m planning to do are a Gruulfriends set. (Nissa and Chandra) 

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

What is the “Greatest Country on Earth™?“

I mean this objectively.  Out of ~200 nations, one of them has to be undeniably better than the rest.  If we make a sortable list, one has to be on top, just as certainly as one has to be on bottom,  So, which country is the all around best?

I can tell you for absolutely certain it is NOT the United States; sure, we’re economically best, every other country relies on us for trade, but something like 99% of all the money is controlled by so few individuals that they could all fit in one of those crappy rental limos that high schoolers get their parents to splurge on for Prom Night.  Income inequality has never been worse, minimum wage been stagnant for almost 10 years, and nobody can afford a home.  “America” is rich, but “Americans” aren’t.  So that ain’t great.

The Democracy Index lists the top ten most politically stable and democratically active countries as Norway, Iceland, Sweden, New Zealand. Finland, Ireland, Denmark, Canada, Australia, and Switzerland,  I happen to know for a fact that Canada, Australia and New Zealand are super racist, just like their dear old dad the British Empire (and their cousin, America); Canadians hate the indigenous, New Zealand hates the Maori, Australia hates the aboriginals.  They’ve taken a page out of Andrew Jackson’s playbook to genocide the problem away then punish he stragglers to make their lives as hard as possible.  So that’s not great.  Scandinavia seems nice, but I’ve had my heart broke too many times to take them at face value.  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.  Let’s go further.

Breaking down the Democracy Index, we get different leaders based on criteria:

Electoral Process and Pluralism: elections are free and fair, and there are multiple views being discussed.  Nine countries get a perfect score of 10.00; Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Luxembourg, Uruguay, and Denmark [for reference, the US got a 9.17]

Functioning of Government: can it collect taxes and spend them on stuff that’s useful?  No country gets a perfect score, but the three highest are Norway, Canada, and Sweden with 9.64 each. [for reference, the US got a 7.14]

Political Participation: can people vote, and do they?  Only Norway gets a perfect 10.00.  The next five are trailing behind; New Zealand, Iceland, Finland, Israel, and the United Kingdom each score 8.89. [for reference, the US got a 7.78]

Political Culture: how invested are the people and the government in the right to vote?  We get perfect 10.00s from Norway, Iceland, Sweden, and Ireland [for reference, the US got a 7.50]

Civil Liberties: how free are you?  How oppressive is your government?  Ireland, Australia, and New Zealand get perfect 10.00s [for reference, the US got an 8.24]

From this, we can glean that Ireland seems pretty great.  But they’re wrapped up in the aftermath of Brexit; there’s a non-zero chance that the Troubles could start back up again if they put a hard border between Ireland and Northern Ireland, which would be HORRIBLE.  That’s not on them necessarily, it’s just as much if not more on the UK government (British Tories see the Irish as subhuman; Boris Johnson wants to wipe them out, put them in his slave mines with the Syrian refugees and Jeremy Corbyn’s corpse).

The World Happiness Report lists the top 10 happiest countries as Finland, Denmark, Norway, Iceland, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Sweden, New Zealand, Canada, and Austria.  These too can be broken down into further criteria:

GDP Per Capita: a country’s total wealth divided by its population (this is not as indicative as it sounds; a higher GDP doesn’t mean you see a single extra cent from your job.  Countries with the highest GDPs have the largest wealth gaps, and are middle of the road when it comes to happiness.  The top 10 are Qatar, Luxembourg, Singapore, United Arab Emirates. Ireland, Norway, Switzerland, United Sates of America, and Saudi Arabia.

Social Support: how much does the country care for its citizens?  Top 10 are Iceland, Finland, Norway, Denmark, New Zealand, Ireland, Australia, the United Kingdom (normal so far), then Turkmenistan and Mongolia!  Turkmenistan is a military dictatorship run by a man who likes to watch horses fuck.  I think he may be over-reporting how much aid he’s giving out to the people.

Health Life Expectancy: the 10 most medically modernized countries are Singapore, Hong Kong, Japan, Spain, Switzerland, France, Northern Cyprus (which is under Turkish occupation), regular Cyprus, Canada, and Italy

Freedom to Make Life Choices: this sounds like something the US should excel at; Freedom and Liberty are our favorite catchphrases!  But no, in practice we’re not even close to the top of the barrel.  The top 10 are Uzbekistan (former Soviet Republic), Cambodia (one-party dictatorship), Norway, the United Arab Emirates, Finland, Denmark, Iceland, New Zealand, Canada, and Sweden.  Turns out maybe “freedom” means “no rules, all anarchy” in some countries, and hey, more power to them.  For reference, the United States is in the middle of the list, between Peru, Botswana, the UK, and Japan.

Generosity: do unto others, as the saying goes.  Turns out the richest countries are the least generous.  Whoodathunkit?  The 10 most generous countries are Myanmar, Indonesia, Haiti, Malta, Kenya, Bhutan, Kuwait, Thailand, Iceland, and the UK.

Perceptions of Corruption: does your government have it’s hand in the cookie jar?  The top 10 least corrupt are Singapore, Rwanda, Denmark, Finland, New Zealand, Sweden, Switzerland, Norway, Luxembourg, and Ireland.  For reference, the US is down low, between Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Nicaragua, and Iran.

The Human Development Index lists the top 10 developed nations as Norway, Switzerland, Ireland, Germany, Hong Kong, Iceland, Australia, Sweden, Singapore, and the Netherlands.  The US sits pretty at 15, though this index just shows that we have running water, electricity, and roads; while we are technologically developed on the country-wide scale, the closer you look, the less this technology helps those at the lower levels.  Poor people are still poor, still have lead in the water, still lack access to good food.  The US is considered a considered a developing nation in that regard.

Ireland, New Zealand, and Switzerland get passing scores on all four of the freedom indices (Freedom in the World, Index of Economic Freedom, Press Freedom Index, and Democracy Index); they’re both socially and economically free, their press is in a good situation, and they’re full democracies.  Good on them.  Australia is socially and economically free, a full democracy, but their press’s situation is only “satisfactory,” a step down from “good.”  Denmark, Finland, Germany, Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Costa Rica, and Portugal are socially free, their press is good, they’re full democracies, but they are economically “mostly free.”  For the record, the United States is socially free, only mostly economically free, our press is satisfactory, and we are a flawed democracy (this puts us on par with Taiwan, Lithuania, Latvia, South Korea, the Czech Republic, and Cyprus)

And finally we have the Corruption Perceptions Index.  As of 2020, the lest corrupt countries are New Zealand, Denmark, Finland, Sweden, Switzerland, Singapore, Norway, Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Germany.

Taking into account the various indices, Norway tops almost every list followed by Iceland, Ireland, and New Zealand.  If we can get over he racism (that’s gonna be a major hurdle), I think it’s safe to say that we have our three finalists.  Norway and Iceland are tied or first, with Ireland a close second.  I’m more inclined to favor Ireland because they’ve been helping out the Choctaw Tribe back in the US during the coronavirus, in repayment for their help during the great potato famine; Good Guy Ireland, pays his debts, helps his friends, has a mutual fucking hatred for WASP bastards.

Ireland appears to be the greatest place to live.

Now burst my bubble, because I know it’s coming.  Tell me the bad news, rip off this band-aid nice and quick.

[evwuniverse]

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp is it Still Worth it in 2020?

The main question that puzzles a lot of the Animal Crossing fan base. Is Animal Crossing Pocket Camp still worth it in May of 2020? It’s all based on opinion but I’d have to say no. I do still enjoy picking it up every now and then when boredom strikes but overall I wouldn’t suggest it. It went from an immense excitement when it first released to a money grabbing scheme from those who support the community. Everything that would be free in lets say the new Animal Crossing New Horizons game isn’t free here. The fact is so sad but true. The game released its micro transactions shortly after launch which was the beginning of the applications downfall. Now almost everything costs leaf tickets which is currency you buy with money to obtain to craft special items that could always come back or to buy fortune cookies that may return during random times throughout the year. 

However, I won’t say that you still shouldn’t play it if you want a small time waster for about 30 mins to an hour. It’s fun for the short term but definitely not the long term. If your careful and don’t buy into the micro transactions with the leaf tickets, shorter crafting times and now their latest money grabbing scheme which is the Pocket Camp Club subcriptions which I’ll get into in a moment. As you can see my main issue stems from the micro transactions. Most mobile games have them and yes! I’m one of those people who tend to easily buy into it but recently I’ve noticed that it’s not always worth it. Below I’ll have sections so you can find what you want to read easily. This is going to be another longer post for the fact that there’s a lot of information to tie into this to answer this question thoroughly. 

Pocket Camp Club Subscriptions:

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp recently debuted a subscription plan. How fun! there are two different ones depending on what type of pocket camp player you identify as. Do you like to collect rare items and furniture through fortune cookies? or do you tend to buy into the micro transactions more often then you would like? there are two different plans for two different types of players. I’m going to explain each one and what they entail. I’m by no means promoting this product I’m staying as non biased as I can with this post while arguing my point of view. 

Happy Helper Plan: 

You might think $3 a month for this plan is nothing and to be honest it’s quite appealing for someone who really does enjoy the game, collect items, and finish quests while creating their perfect camping oasis. However, this adds up with time think about it $3 a month and there are 12 months this is $36 a year. Now this might not seem bad but think about what else you could do with that $36. To be fair I had this plan for about 3-4 months after it made it’s first debute. I loved Animal Crossing Pocket Camp and still do it’s one of my favorite apps that I pull out when boredom hits as I’ve implied before. But the micro transactions just get annoying. If I’m on the go I’ll play the app if i’m home I’ll either play Animal Crossing New Leaf on my 3Ds or Animal Crossing New Horizons (my new love) on the Switch. However, if you’re someone who is really into Pocket Camp and buying a game system with the game just isn’t in the cards then this could be a nice happy little alternative for you. I completely understand that mobile applications are more affordable and most are free to start unless you want to add more premium content to your experiences. Which is why I’m going into detail my experiences, opinions, and viewing it from a different perspective as well. The Happy Helper plan was the first subscription to be released for the mobile application. It currently comes with the following perks:

60 leaf tickets per month

Ability to walk around with your camp care taker (walk around with your favorite Animal Crossing character in the mobile application)

Your care taker can complete tasks for you when you’re unable to log into the app.

Your care taker will gather items for events when you’re not on the app. 

Crafting times in the game with be shortened (depending on when you first started playing Pocket Camp).

Ability to read the new Pocket Camp journal which comes with news and events in the world of Animal Crossing for your mobile device. 

Let’s be honest $3 a month for all of this is definitely not a bad price and 60 leaf tickets with the other perks I’d say this is pretty well priced. Normally 60 leaf tickets would cost about $2 since 30 leaf tickets is $0.99 each time you buy a set of 30 leaf tickets. So they only added an extra dollar for the extra perks you recieve with the Happy Helper subscription. If you’re someone who plays often and tends to buy the leaf tickets a lot this is probably the right route to go. I also feel like you get more for less. This is my highly recommend suggestion if you want to buy one of the subscriptions in the application. This also helps somewhat save on micro transactions. Since most of the time you’re spending tickets on shorter crafting times, etc. This was the right plan for me when I was playing. 

Furniture & Fashion Plan:

I’ll be honest, I have yet to try out this subscription. This is a newer subscription that just came out for $7.99 a month and I’m not sure if it’s worth it or not yet. I’ll keep this section updated but for the time being I’m going to list what comes with this plan. It definitely feels like it comes with less then the Happy Helpers plan but from what I know this plan revolves around collecting rare items, decorating, and customization which is normally appealing to me. If I wasn’t so invested in Animal Crossing New Horizons I’d probably give this a try sooner. Below are the perks for this membership:

Choose five fortune cookies each month (each fortune cookies is 50 leaf tickets for 1 or 250 leaf tickets for a pack of 10 from one fortune cookie pack) with this you can apparently choose from past fortune cookies and current ones. Which could be great if you’re a collector of rare items, furniture, and outfits. 

Store your extra items in a warehouse so you’re not taking up space in your games inventory. 

Ability to save layouts you create to your saved sets

Crafting times will be shorter (depending on when you first started playing Pocket Camp).

Ability to read the Pocket Camp Club journal which is seen under the Happy Healper plan above.

As you can see this plan revolves around creation and customization which basically is the whole fun of this game. The whole idea of Animal Crossing that makes it so appealing is the customization, creation, and sandbox feel it provides. The getaway from reality into a virtual place that is our own. This would probably be good if you find yourself consistently spending leaf tickets to buy fortune cookies. But it doesn’t come with the 60 leaf tickets per mont instead it’s the fortune cookies. To delve a little bit into the price aspect $7.99 per month for 12 months comes out to a yearly cost of $95.88 so in this case we will round this up this is $96 per year. You’re spending almost $100 for virtual content per year. However, if you put it into the perspective that each fortune cookie for just one is 50 leaf tickets each and you get 5 per month that’s 250 leaf tickets. 200 leaf tickets cost $7.99 alone then to add 45 more is $1.99 and then to make it 50 add another dollar for 20 more. So about $11 for the same. Overall, you come out cheaper in the end with the subscription plan by a few dollars. Don’t you just love how companies do that? So in that case it would actually come out cheaper for those who love to collect and customize in pocket camp. 

Customization of Places:

Customization of Your Camp:

When customizing your camp you have restirctions. These restrictions can be somewhat annoing for anyone who wants something in a specific place. The customization system runs off of a grid system. It ran off of a grid system in New Leaf as well. Call me spoiled but in New Horizons you can precisely place things in a more intricate way for customization so something like this now bothers me in the mobile versions. For someone who has only played the application this is a small thing to overlook. You can freely wander and walk around your camp and everything you craft to invite animals over can be used to decorate the camp for all of your animal friends. This is definitely nice and I enjoy mixing, matching, and redecorating quite often. It’s the most fun in the game and I spend hours making it look perfect and the way I want it. With all of the items you obtain throughout your gameplay. Everything needs to be crafted. 

You can customize your camp in any way you would like this is what makes the application version so addicting in my opinion. I’m not going to lie I’ve shelled out money in this game for leaf tickets to obtain special items through fortune cookies. You can also spend more money through micro transactions which is super tempting to decorate the background scenery, sky, fencing, and front section of your camp. The sad fact is you can’t interact with any of it just like with most of the furniture you can’t interact with either in the application version. But your animals can and I’ll be honest it’s kinda fun to watch my animals interact with everything I place out but I wish I could do the same it would make the game so much better. Maybe it’s an idea they could use for a new subscription or something who knows? 

You have main sections that you have to decorate with a tent and ameneties that you can upgrades as you get the materials to continue crafting them up to full level. Depending on the animals on your site and what there themes are these leveled amenities can boost up your animals level as well as unlock more leveling for specific animals. An example of this is if you have animals that match the elegant theme and you buy an elegant amenity this will unlock more leveling for those characters. So if they were locked to only go up to level 10 with the amenity it allows that character to go up to level 15. This is fun, challenging, but can be annoying with the crafting times which is where the subscription might be useful for players who have played since launch or for months previous towards considering the subscription. You can also tend to your own garden which is nice. 

Customization of Cabins:

As you level up you will unlock a whole new floor to your very own cabin. I’ll be honest I’m only level 50 and I’m not 100% sure if there are more levels or rooms you can unlock yet but I’ll definitely edit this post as I continue my experience. The cabin is very similar to having a house in the console versions except this is a place for all of your animals to enjoy with you. Very similar to the camp site they interact with the furniture you place in and you’re able to decorate it in any way you see fit. 

Customization of Campers:

Yes in this game you get a camper to customize as well very similar to the homes as well except this is more your private space without any animals. It’s nice and you can upgrade and customize the outside and inside of your camper as you move forward in the game. 

Multiplayer & Playing With Friends:

So, this is something that really bothers me. I really wish that people could visit their friends in real time. This isn’t possible but you’re able to visit their islands and see a botted version of your friend standing on their island that gives you options such as giving “kudos” kind of like giving a “like” on Facebook. You also have the option to buy things from their market at whatever price their selling their items for. You can also show that you’ve been to their island and water their plants in their garden to keep them growing and healthy. When it comes to events if your collecting bugs then you can place some of your bugs on your friend flowers for them to keep when they capture them during the event before planting new flowers. It’s nice to explore other friends and players islands but I completely dislike not being able to be with them in real time and not being able to have a chat feature. This is what I love about the console version. I’m a huge advocate for virtual worlds and since Animal Crossing in general is categorized as a “social simulation” I feel like there should be some socializing in multiplayer mode. Maybe in the future they might add this but this a mystery yet to be discovered. It’s kind of sad this app has the opportunity to be something great but it always falls short with something. There’s always something missing from each category. What I’d like to see at some point is Animal Crossing for mobile that you pay one price for like for the console versions and it has everything! I’d adore that.... But these are just my thoughts and opinions on multiplayer. 

Overall, a lot of things in this app are very nice and help with my OCD a lot. Everything is organized and works in a specific way and the interactions are specific. I love chaos but I’m more the type for order. This gives that sense of order which I love, however, I enjoy the Animal Crossing console games for it’s ability to be customizeable, openworld, sandboxy, and just an escape from my everyday reality. I feel like this version is a mini game with glorified micro transactions all over the place. Which let’s be honest the application never used to be this way on launch but I do understand that Nintnedo has to make money through the app somehow and this is how they chose to do it. It’s definitely fun and enjoyable for the short term but I find myself escaping to my consoles and playing either New Horizons or the older version for the 3Ds Animal Crossing New Leaf. Everything that would be free on the console version you have to buy in the mobile. It just makes more sense in my opinion for someone who has a Switch and DS to spend the money on the game and be able to do more than I can do on the mobile app. But as i’ve said before I do understand that game consoles are expensive and your phone is what you use for both entertainment, work, etc. In this case spending the money to have a very similar experience could be worth it. Just for me and this is where I’ll be a little biased it’s not for me even though the micro transactions are always tempting because I’m always afraid the item will never come back or the fortune cookies are a one time thing making those specific items rare. I do enjoy the game but the micro transactions are my biggest problem.... If this is a small con for you then this is definitely something you will enjoy just don’t always give into those micro transactions. You can have a whole lot of fun without spending a dime in the game don’t get tempted.