#i hope they paid him a fuckton of money.

[qqueenofhades]

May not by your wheelhouse, but regarding ever-increasing college tuition, where does the money go? Why is college so much more expensive than it was a few decades ago?

I have indeed written several posts about the college affordability crisis, which are probably to be found in my "ronald reagan burn in hell" tag. This is because, as with most of the batfuckery of the American economy since the 1980s, it is indeed Ronald Reagan's fault. The overall causes of college skyrocketing in cost include, but are not limited to:

1) Huge tax cuts for corporations and the wealthy, gutting the funding that public education systems/public universities previously received from the government;

2) This in turn increased the costs at private universities, which had always been more expensive than public universities anyway, and besides, they were now free to put up their prices as far as they wanted;

3) The "unregulated free market trickle-down capitalism for everyone!!" Reagan-era mentality led to the explosion of costs in healthcare, housing, education, etc etc., and drastically widened the level of income inequality between rich and poor;

4) The replacement of grants (which you don't have to pay back) with loans (which you do), which incentivized unscrupulous loan companies to increase the burden of debt on students and for colleges to charge more and more tuition in the form of loans;

5) A bachelor's degree was once supposed to guarantee you a job, and now does nothing of the sort, and because the market has become so crowded and oversaturated with generally unsatisfactory and unstable job options, you are expected to pay for multiple degrees and go even DEEPER into debt;

6) Obviously, because of this total rejiggering of the economic landscape, everything costs a fuckton more than it used to 40 years ago, so colleges can't return to their 1970s-era fee structure;

7) As an academic, I can promise you that very little of this money is actually going to faculty salaries or the development/sustainment of new programs. Yes, obviously it costs money to run a quality educational institution, and I also obviously want all universities to be funded properly and for academics to be paid what they deserve. But the actual distribution of this money is... less clear.

8) Schools with giant well-known Division I sports programs tend to get all or most of the money that comes into their institutions, leaving relatively little for academic or faculty development;

9) For example: I work at a large, fairly prestigious, private university with very high research activity/classification, and we don’t even have a football team sucking up the money. But still, every single quarter, my department has to go through the budget with a magnifying glass, cut low-enrolled courses, argue constantly with the dean about which courses we do get to teach, etc. Our adjuncts also get paid literal peanuts for taking on a lot of work, and because we're so low on core faculty and just had to cancel another faculty search because of budget reasons, probably 50% of our schedule in the upcoming quarter is being taught by adjuncts. This is... not ideal.

10) Student debt is now such a lucrative part of the American commodities market, is so embedded in the financial system, and constitutes (at last glance) up to $1.8 trillion of outstanding debt, that when Biden tried to cancel even some of it, the Republicans immediately lost their minds and sued him to stop it. As of now, that case is still pending before SCOTUS, and because they're the literal worst, nobody hold your breath for a good outcome.

In short: college is one of the areas that has suffered the most from unregulated Reagonomics over the last 40 years, has been repeatedly incentivized to become and to stay extremely expensive and to represent a long-term burden of debt, and while you would hope that the money was being responsibly reinvested into actual faculty hiring/retention/academic program development etc, that is... not usually the case. The big Division I universities that serve as farm team training programs for the NFL, with a little academics on the side, also tend to have tons of investment in sports and not nearly as much in the classroom. But I'm sure this is fine!

[songofmadness]

Again, non-writing post but -- The Time of Santa Suits is once again upon me. And this year it comes with accompanying righteous fury. Long story short, I do the odd sewing commission to prop up my pitiful income, though I've tapered off a bit as my kid's homeschooling got more intense over the last year. Also life, brainworms etc. But there is one guy I've been friends with for years who does a lot of the local santa-ing who generally come to me for suit alterations and such. (He is also a personal friend and it seriously irks me that I haven't heard from him all year -- yet he returns from the void just as he needs my aid etc. etc. But whatever, dude's had an incredibly rough year, I'll get over it.) What gets me is that he commissioned a suit from some fancy company in England during lockdown -- I was just getting started homeschooling the Spawn and he didn't want to pile more shit on. He paid a fuckton of money and well, the delivery was delayed and delayed and then it finally comes out that the original creator had come down with Covid and a combination of that and a few other health problems unfortunately led to her death. This is, of course, fucking awful. And it's totally understandable that custom santa suits were very much not the focus for her family at the time. He gets that. I get that. What's less understandable is that the family/company didn't refund my friend's money. Instead they assured him that they could finish the commission, delayed some more and when the suit finally arrived... Calling it an abomination is generous. It's. I think they matched up the wrong parts of an unfinished suit? The armscyes are fucking massive. He literally cannot raise his arms in this boxy monstrosity. He's a big guy - can santa without a prosthetic belly big - and the suit is still enormous on him. It's a box. With massive sleeveheads. And the pants? One leg is bigger than the other. By several inches. This was a reputable business - I don't know the name, and I don't want to ask because if I go looking for previous examples of work, I will get angry. And I entirely get that suddenly inheriting a bunch of unfinished custom orders when you're grieving has got to be indescribably fucking awful. But if you can't do the work, fucking tell your clients that. If they'd sent pieces, he could have gotten me to assemble them. Or someone else, if I was still snowed in by single-parent-is-now-also-a-teacher insanity. If they'd just admitted they didn't know what the fuck they were doing, my friend wouldn't have received a hideously expensive unusable suit during the most stressful time of year for him. The same year he got slapped with a new cancer diagnosis. This guy is not a rich man. The santa-ing pays for a shitload of his yearly expenses. He takes pride in it. And I will guarantee you the fact that he didn't bring this piece of shit suit to me the year it arrived is because he was ashamed of getting shilled. The fact that he had to internalise that at the same time as he was struggling with the pain and fear of his cancer raising it's ugly fucking head again makes me incandescently furious. I am s e e t h i n g. It's nice fabric, so I'm gonna see if I can salvage it. Probably won't be able to wrangle pants, but I can at least try to fix the coat. Though the problem of how to make the armscyes smaller is already frustrating me. And I'm going to sew him the suit of his fucking dreams to make up for this bullshit. Somehow. Scraping the money together is going to be a bitch but I genuinely don't know how much longer he's going to be able to keep doing this and he deserves to have it end on a high note. TLDR: If you can't match the standards when inheriting a custom commission, just fucking admit it. And if you've screwed up beyond all hope, REFUND YOUR CLIENTS.

[bauliya]

Please tell me of the racism in arrival. I have not seen the movie but heard praise about it ever since it came out. This is the first time I’ve heard that it’s racist/has racist elements.

THANK YOU ANON FOR GIVING ME THIS OPPORTUNITY! ahem.

so arrival (2016) is based on a 1998 novella by ted chiang (who is of asian descent. this is relevant later) called the story of your life. at no point the race of any of the characters is described.

it's told half in a narrative and half in a "flashback" about the protagonist recalling her daughter's life and death at 26, hence the title. it's essentially narrated to her. towards the end you realise the narrative is the present and because she learns the language of the aliens she gains the ability to experience time as they do, all at once, and sees her marriage will fail and her daughter will die. yet she CHOOSES to follow it, because your life is worth living even if it ends sadly and even if you don’t have as much free will as you presumed. It’s a beautiful story, i ugly-cried. 

now the movie changes a lot of shit!! which is fine. the story is short and cerebral by which I mean it mostly takes place in the protagonist's head and is kinda unfilmable BUT they changed it by inserting racist tropes. 

in the story, there are international teams, but they largely work together. there is no “we have to combine our messages” bit because the aliens don’t say “weapon” they just say they are here to “observe”. IN THE MOVIE THOUGH!! they make the chinese delegation, the ONLY ASIANS in the whole movie, the villains because they talk with their heptapods via “cruel and barbaric” mahjong (they depict mahjong as cruel in barbaric.... *deep breaths*) and are the ones who want to attack the aliens. the only reason they share their slide is that louise (who is white in the movie but is race undefined in the story) talks them down. the plot is that a white woman tames barbaric asians. like they took a story by an asian-american man and made the plot a white woman civilising cruel asians. 

and the only Black character in the whole movie is a trigger-happy military official whose actions end up killing one of the aliens. which, again, never happened in the story, the aliens just said they were here to observe and then left, no one was hurt, there were no explosions. 

the daughter is killed off when she’s 12 rather than 26 and there are basically no flashback/premonitions scenes. so it becomes just another america (and american military) saves the world by Being The Best movie which is just. propaganda. anyway. arrival (2016) is racist and also dumb (why in the hell would the aliens talk in person rather than using projectors like in the og story??). read the story of your life. 

[hellsbellschime]

@arts-of-our-titans said: saying that the cities she came to were completely trashed is not a statement in support of slavery. but implying that the state of slavers bay before dany was in anyway “peaceful” or “green” is. you clearly do not understand the weight of what a slave state means, for you to make that comparison. as for dany owning slaves. stop talking out of your ass. dany does not have any slaves. you are creating scenarios in your head, literally.

please mention one instance where dany “makes” anyone fight for her. list one instance in the books where it seems her so called soldiers are there involuntarily. also mention one lord in westeros who pays his soldiers anything, but food and shelter. i’ll wait. how about you stop blaming the faults of the world george built on dany

also i would love to remind you that we are actually told that many unsullied pay whores to embrace them. if it such a common practice, why was there no question as to where these unsullied were getting the money?

and last but not least, everyone in essos knows the state of slavers bay. and yet other slaves are still hoping for dany… why? because suffering bc you fight to be free is better than suffering as someone’s property. and history has shown that. so yes, i do find your idea of slavers bay very disturbing

You know what, instead of arguing, I'mma just leave these book quotes right here. Also, not even kidding, there were so many book quotes to back up Dany's fake anti-slavery that I had to give up, these were just the ones that jumped out at me the most.

Here's some fun quotes where a fuckton of people around Dany seem to be under the impression that she has slaves, which is pretty weird if she's not treating her "servants" like slaves:

Dany stepped away from her. "No. Irri, you do not need to do that. What happened that night, when you woke . . . you're no bed slave, I freed you, remember? You . . ."

"I am handmaid to the Mother of Dragons," the girl said. "It is great honor to please my khaleesi." - Daenerys II, ASOS

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. "We'll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There's no food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we've had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march."

"Freedmen," Dany corrected. "They are slaves no longer." - Daenerys V, ASOS

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?" - Daenerys II, ADWD

"Not a hole. A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water."

"How kind of my old friend to help with the digging. And how very unlike him. Is it possible he was given no choice in the matter? No, surely not. You have no slaves in Meereen."

Dany flushed. "Your friend is being paid with food and shelter. I cannot give him back his wealth. Meereen needs beans more than it needs rare spices, and beans require water." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"Can you?" the Green Grace asked. "A king is not a god, but there is still much that a strong man might do. When my people look at you, they see a conqueror from across the seas, come to murder us and make slaves of our children. A king could change that. A highborn king of pure Ghiscari blood could reconcile the city to your rule. Elsewise, I fear, your reign must end as it began, in blood and fire." - Daenerys IV, ADWD

Oh look, and here's some quotes implying that Daenerys pillaged these cities and left them an absolute fucking wreck:

I have given Astapor a butcher king. Dany felt ill, but she knew she must not let the envoy see it. "I will pray that King Cleon rules well and wisely. What would he have of me?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

All my victories turn to dross in my hands, she thought. Whatever I do, all I make is death and horror. When word of what had befallen Astapor reached the streets, as it surely would, tens of thousands of newly freed Meereenese slaves would doubtless decide to follow her when she went west, for fear of what awaited them if they stayed . . . yet it might well be that worse would await them on the march. Even if she emptied every granary in the city and left Meereen to starve, how could she feed so many?" Daenerys VI, ASOS

That proved to be a forlorn hope. The master of the Indigo Star was Qartheen, so he wept copiously when asked about Astapor. "The city bleeds. Dead men rot unburied in the streets, each pyramid is an armed camp, and the markets have neither food nor slaves for sale. And the poor children! King Cleaver's thugs have seized every highborn boy in Astapor to make new Unsullied for the trade, though it will be years before they are trained." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. "My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I've freed all over again." She turned back to look at their faces. "I will not march." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Her dragons had roared as one in that moment, filling the night with flame. The slaves are rising, she knew at once. My sewer rats have gnawed off their chains.

When the last resistance had been crushed by the Unsullied and the sack had run its course, Dany entered her city. The dead were heaped so high before the broken gate that it took her freedmen near an hour to make a path for her silver. Joso's Cock and the great wooden turtle that had protected it, covered with horsehides, lay abandoned within. She rode past burned buildings and broken windows, through brick streets where the gutters were choked with the stiff and swollen dead. Cheering slaves lifted bloodstained hands to her as she went by, and called her "Mother." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Cleon the self-styled Great was no better, however. The Butcher King had restored slavery to Astapor, the only change being that the former slaves were now the masters and the former masters were now the slaves. - Daenerys I, ADWD

"I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war," she told Lord Ghael, "but we have heard that Astapor is starving. Let King Cleon feed his people before he leads them out to battle." She made a gesture of dismissal. Ghael withdrew. - Daenerys I, ADWD

Many and more of the matters brought before her involved redress. Meereen had been sacked savagely after its fall. The stepped pyramids of the mighty had been spared the worst of the ravages, but the humbler parts of the city had been given over to an orgy of looting and killing as the city's slaves rose up and the starving hordes who had followed her from Yunkai and Astapor poured through the broken gates. Her Unsullied had finally restored order, but the sack left a plague of problems in its wake. And so they came to see the queen. - Daenerys I, ADWD

Xaro took no notice of the sally. "Daenerys, let me be honest with you, as befits a friend. You will not make Meereen rich and fat and peaceful. You will only bring it to destruction, as you did Astapor. - Daenerys III, ADWD

"None. I no longer lust for dragons. I saw their work at Astapor on my way here, when my Silken Cloud put in for water." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"I will not abandon Meereen to the fate of Astapor. It grieves me to say so, but Westeros must wait." - Daenerys III, ADWD

Frog would be glad to put Astapor behind him. The Red City was the closest thing to hell he ever hoped to know. The Yunkai'i had sealed the broken gates to keep the dead and dying inside the city, but the sights that he had seen riding down those red brick streets would haunt Quentyn Martell forever. A river choked with corpses. The priestess in her torn robes, impaled upon a stake and attended by a cloud of glistening green flies. Dying men staggering through the streets, bloody and befouled. Children fighting over half-cooked puppies. The last free king of Astapor, screaming naked in the pit as he was set on by a score of starving dogs. And fires, fires everywhere. He could close his eyes and see them still: flames whirling from brick pyramids larger than any castle he had ever seen, plumes of greasy smoke coiling upward like great black snakes.

When the wind blew from the south, the air smelled of smoke even here, three miles from the city. Behind its crumbling red brick walls, Astapor was still asmolder, though by now most of the great fires had burned out. Ashes floated lazy on the breeze like fat grey snowflakes. It would be good to go. - The Windblown ADWD

Dead Cleon's fall wrote an end to that. The new Unsullied threw down their spears and shields and ran, only to find the gates of Astapor shut behind them. Frog had done his part in the slaughter that followed, riding down the frightened eunuchs with the other Windblown. Hard by the big man's hip he rode, slashing right and left as their wedge went through the Unsullied like a spearpoint. When they burst through on the other side, the Tattered Prince had wheeled them round and led them through again. It was only coming back that Frog got a good look at the faces beneath the spiked bronze caps and realized that most were no older than he. Green boys screaming for their mothers, he'd thought, but he killed them all the same. By the time he'd left the field, his sword was running red with blood and his arm was so tired he could hardly lift it. - The Windblown, ADWD

It was the Tattered Prince himself who did the speaking. "Orders have come down from Yurkhaz," he said. "What Astapori still survive have come creeping from their hidey-holes, it seems. There's nothing left in Astapor but corpses, so they're pouring out into the countryside, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, all starved and sick. The Yunkai'i don't want them near their Yellow City. We've been commanded to hunt them down and turn them, drive them back to Astapor or north to Meereen. If the dragon queen wants to take them in, she's welcome to them. Half of them have the bloody flux, and even the healthy ones are mouths to feed." - The Windblown, ADWD

"Astapor, Your Radiance," said another of the Blue Graces. "He said it, once. He said 'Astapor is burning.' " - Daenerys V, ADWD

Brown Ben Plumm was puzzled. "Who is Eroeh?"

"A girl I thought I'd saved from rape and torment. All I did was make it worse for her in the end. And all I did in Astapor was make ten thousand Eroehs." - Daenerys V, ADWD

Beneath her veils, the Green Grace sighed. "The peace that we worked so hard to forge flutters like a leaf in an autumn wind. These are dire days. Death stalks our streets, riding the pale mare from thrice-cursed Astapor. Dragons haunt the skies, feasting on the flesh of children. Hundreds are taking ship, sailing for Yunkai, for Tolos, for Qarth, for any refuge that will have them. The pyramid of Hazkar has collapsed into a smoking ruin, and many of that ancient line lie dead beneath its blackened stones. The pyramids of Uhlez and Yherizan have become the lairs of monsters, their masters homeless beggars. My people have lost all hope and turned against the gods themselves, giving over their nights to drunkenness and fornication." - The Queen's Hand, ADWD

Also you asked how the Unsullied would pay for prostitutes if they were unpaid and if Daenerys is letting freed slaves take a handful of shit and leaving the rest of an entire city to plunder herself, I have a general idea of where they may have gotten the money:

"I have a gift for you as well." She slammed the chest shut. "Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?" - Daenerys IV, ASOS

And some quotes about people being enslaved in Dany's territory for good measure:

His new Unsullied are an obscene jape. "King Cleon would be wise to tend his own gardens and let the Yunkai'i tend theirs." It was not that Dany harbored any love for Yunkai. She was coming to regret leaving the Yellow City untaken after defeating its army in the field. The Wise Masters had returned to slaving as soon as she moved on, and were busy raising levies, hiring sellswords, and making alliances against her.

Cleon the self-styled Great was no better, however. The Butcher King had restored slavery to Astapor, the only change being that the former slaves were now the masters and the former masters were now the slaves.- Daenerys I, ADWD

"We fought the Unsullied at Astapor," the big man said.

"I said real Unsullied. Hacking off some boy's stones with a butcher's cleaver and handing him a pointy hat don't make him Unsullied. That dragon queen's got the real item, the kind that don't break and run when you fart in their general direction." - The Windblown, ADWD

Dany not caring who is a slaver or slave and doing whatever is more beneficial for her, doesn't seem like doing what's just matters more than getting what she needs:

"Very well," Dany said. "Sellsword or slave, spare all those who will pledge me their faith. If enough of the Second Sons will join us, keep the company intact." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. - Daenerys I, ADWD

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs. - Daenerys I, ADWD

And finally, some quotes of Daenerys directly permitting, attempting to take advantage of, if not outright benefiting off of slavery herself (or using her anti-slavery quest as a means of acquiring people to act as slaves for her in all but name):

There is wisdom in this, yes, Dany thought, but . . . "How am I to buy a thousand slave soldiers? All I have of value is the crown the Tourmaline Brotherhood gave me." - Daenerys I, ASOS

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

"It is soldiers I need," Dany admitted. - Daenerys II, ASOS

"My queen," said Arstan, "there have been no slaves in the Seven Kingdoms for thousands of years. The old gods and the new alike hold slavery to be an abomination. Evil. If you should land in Westeros at the head of a slave army, many good men will oppose you for no other reason than that. You will do great harm to your cause, and to the honor of your House."

"Yet I must have some army," Dany said. "The boy Joffrey will not give me the Iron Throne for asking politely." - Daenerys II, ASOS

"Missandei is no longer a slave. I free you, from this instant. Come ride with me in the litter, I wish to talk." Rakharo helped them in, and Dany drew the curtains shut against the dust and heat. "If you stay with me you will serve as one of my handmaids," she said as they set off. "I shall keep you by my side to speak for me as you spoke for Kraznys. But you may leave my service whenever you choose, if you have father or mother you would sooner return to."

"This one will stay," the girl said. "This one . . . I . . . there is no place for me to go. This . . . I will serve you, gladly." - Daenerys III, ASOS

"If battle is joined, let Grey Worm show wisdom as well as valor," Dany told him. "Spare any slave who runs or throws down his weapon. The fewer slain, the more remain to join us after." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

"My queen?" Daario stepped forward. "The riverside is full of Meereenese, begging leave to be allowed to sell themselves to this Qartheen. They are thicker than the flies."

Dany was shocked. "They want to be slaves?"

"The ones who come are well spoken and gently born, sweet queen. Such slaves are prized. In the Free Cities they will be tutors, scribes, bed slaves, even healers and priests. They will sleep in soft beds, eat rich foods, and dwell in manses. Here they have lost all, and live in fear and squalor."

"I see." Perhaps it was not so shocking, if these tales of Astapor were true. Dany thought a moment. "Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman." She raised a hand. "But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife."

"In Astapor the city took a tenth part of the price, each time a slave changed hands," Missandei told her.

"We'll do the same," Dany decided. Wars were won with gold as much as swords. "A tenth part. In gold or silver coin, or ivory. Meereen has no need of saffron, cloves, or zorse hides." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

They had freed their slaves, yes … only to hire them back as servants at wages so meagre that most could scarce afford to eat. Those too old or young to be of use had been cast into the streets, along with the infirm and the crippled. And still the Great Masters gathered atop their lofty pyramids to complain of how the dragon queen had filled their noble city with hordes of unwashed beggars, thieves, and whores. - Daenerys I, ADWD

"A poor city that once was rich. A hungry city that once was fat. A bloody city that once was peaceful."

His accusations stung. There was too much truth in them. "Meereen will be rich and fat and peaceful once again, and free as well. Go to the Dothraki if you must have slaves." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"The Yunkai'i will resume slaving, as before. Astapor will be rebuilt, as a slave city. You will not interfere."

"The Yunkai'i resumed their slaving before I was two leagues from their city. Did I turn back? King Cleon begged me to join with him against them, and I turned a deaf ear to his pleas. I want no war with Yunkai. How many times must I say it? What promises do they require?" - Daenerys VI, ADWD

Meereenese seldom rode within their city walls. They preferred palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs, borne upon the shoulders of their slaves. "Horses befoul the streets," one man of Zakh had told her, "slaves do not." Dany had freed the slaves, yet palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs still choked the streets as before, and none of them floated magically through the air. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

"They are permitting that, yes," she had replied, "but their warships remain. They can close their fingers around our throat again whenever they wish. They have opened a slave market within sight of my walls!"

"Outside our walls, sweet queen. That was a condition of the peace, that Yunkai would be free to trade in slaves as before, unmolested."

"In their own city. Not where I have to see it." The Wise Masters had established their slave pens and auction block just south of the Skahazadhan, where the wide brown river flowed into Slaver's Bay. "They are mocking me to my face, making a show of how powerless I am to stop them."

"Posing and posturing," said her noble husband. "A show, as you have said. Let them have their mummery. When they are gone, we will make a fruit market of what they leave behind."

"When they are gone," Dany repeated. "And when will they be gone? Riders have been seen beyond the Skahazadhan. Dothraki scouts, Rakharo says, with a khalasar behind them. They will have captives. Men, women, and children, gifts for the slavers." Dothraki did not buy or sell, but they gave gifts and received them. "That is why the Yunkai'i have thrown up this market. They will leave here with thousands of new slaves."

Hizdahr zo Loraq shrugged. "But they will leave. That is the important part, my love. Yunkai will trade in slaves, Meereen will not, this is what we have agreed. Endure this for a little while longer, and it shall pass." - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

All of the entertainers were slaves. That had been part of the peace, that slaveowners be allowed the right to bring their chattels into Meereen without fear of having them freed. In return the Yunkai'i had promised to respect the rights and liberties of the former slaves that Dany had freed. A fair bargain, Hizdahr said, but the taste it left in the queen's mouth was foul. She drank another cup of wine to wash it out. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

A Supernatural World: Chapter 1

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Summary: Fleeing their hometown of Miami, Florida due to it growing far too dangerous, Roman and his vampire brother Remus move to Detroit, Michigan. Remus hopes it’ll be safer here for his human (or so he thinks he’s human) brother. Roman only wishes to start anew after a traumatizing incident in his last college, hoping to make new friends and maybe even find love. They don’t know what this city or the future holds but it’s going to be quite the adventure as they explore their new surroundings and the…interesting people that live in it.

Pairings: Eventual roceit, Eventual Intrulogical, slowburn roceit, slowburn Intrulogical, romantic roceit, romantic Intrulogical. BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS (rem/rom shippers fuck off)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED ABUSE, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, MORE TO BE ADDED AS THE STORY GOES ON

(A/N: Finally got back into some kind of writing pattern so enjoy!)

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Pitter Patter

Pitter Patter

Remus watches as the sparkling raindrops streaked down the window of the taxi that he and his brother, Roman, were currently in. It’s a rainy evening in Detroit as they near their apartment. It isn’t anything fancy but it has all the utilities they need and a room they could share. It certainly had been a while since Remus had shared a room with his twin. His parents would always separate them, their mother saying Remus was a bad influence on their so-called perfect Roman. Neither of them believed it and always found a way to see each other. Though punishment always followed should they be caught.

  That was then and here they were now. No more horrible parents. No more horrible home. They’re in a new city now and they just want to start fresh. Remus was going to explore and get supplies once he and his brother were settled in. It’s not easy being a vampire who constantly had to be out at night or help his brother sleep. Speaking of sleep, Remus glances over at his twin. He smiles fondly as his older brother snores away on his shoulder. It’s always nice to see his twin peacefully resting. He only wished he didn’t have to use his magic to keep him like this. But it was that, or intense nightmares every single night. 

Remus sighs and adjusts the red scarf that he wrapped around Roman when they left their home. Roman had been through a lot. From the abuse at home to an incident in college that he never got justice for, Roman would have nightmares of it all and Remus would use his magic to calm him down. It’s probably not the safest trick but Roman had begged him to keep using it ever since he found out about it. At least Roman was resting better for now. 

“Ferndale District Apartment Building, sir.” the taxi driver suddenly cuts through, tired eyes gazing at the twins.

Remus nods in reply and turns to his twin, gently shaking him awake.

“Wake up, Ro. We’re here.”

Roman whines and yawns, eyes fluttering open as he sits up.

“Already?” he asks sleepily. 

Remus chuckles softly.

“Yeah. Come on, Ro. You can sleep some more once we get our stuff in.” he says, patting his brother’s head.”

“Kay.”

Roman stretches and sits up, getting out of the car as Remus paid the driver. It’s cold and wet but the rain seems to be letting up into a light sprinkle. He looks around and there isn’t much. Another car passes by and a dog barks in the distance. Roman can make out a small gas station across the street, its dying neon sign flickering like an old lamp. Beside it is a convenient store that’s closed for the night, a laundromat right across it that’s still open. He watches for a moment as a mother and daughter, both sopping wet from the rain, run inside the laundromat. Then Roman turns back, seeing his twin unload the trunk. So, Roman follows and helps with getting their items out. 

They have two boxes, a luggage bag, and a backpack each filled with their belongings as well as food and drinks and emergency supplies. Then there’s three boxes full of other miscellaneous items like toiletries, plates and cups, silverware, pillows, blankets, and other things they grabbed. The apartment may be furnished but it didn’t have everything. It takes over thirty minutes but they managed to bring everything into the building. The taxi leaves and the twins sigh in relief as the warmth of the building melted away the cold feeling in their bones. Remus then heads to the front desk and speaks with the receptionist, a red-haired man with green eyes and freckles, so he could get their apartment key.

Meanwhile, Roman looks around again. It isn’t much but it feels cozy. There was a lounge across from the desk with a moss green carpet and dark brown leather armchairs. A small but sleek black coffee table sits between them, a flower vase holding bright red roses on it. In the corner is a small fish tank, bubbling away as two dwarf gourami swam around each other. On the faded mahogany wall is a painting of a hand. Roman can just barely make out the artist’s signature at the bottom. ‘C.Manfred’ is written in black cursive in paint at the lower left  corner. Roman hums and admires it for a moment.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that the newcomers were here already, Jeremiah.”

Roman jumps at the sudden voice, turning around.

There stood a man in a black a blazer over a dark yellow turtleneck. He also wore matching black gloves and a black bowler hat. What confused Roman is the eye bandage on the man’s left eye and his black face mask. The man walks towards the front desk, standing by Remus. He looks him up and down for a moment before turning to the receptionist, Jeremiah, and greets him.

“Oh, they just arrived, Janus. I just gave them their room key. And here’s your mailbox key.” Jeremiah replies, handing the key to Janus.

Janus nods and takes it, making his way to the mailboxes beside the front desk.

“I must say, you’re both quite intriguing.” he says, glancing at Remus again before turning back to open his mailbox.

Remus blinks. He could’ve sworn he saw a glint of gold in Janus’ eyes.

“I’m just a guy moving in with his brother. I don’t see anything special about that.” he replies, playing it safe.

Janus chuckles quietly and grabs his mail, tucking it away in his blazer.

“No? I think you are. I’ve never met someone like you, especially. I tend to keep to myself, you know?” he hums.

Remus blinks again. Oh. Now he gets it.

Janus sees Remus finally getting it and chuckles again.

“Now, now, no need to fret. Your, ah, secret is safe with me.” he says, holding up his right hand.

That makes Remus relax a little.

“Right. Sorry. I’m just being safe” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I’m Remus and that’s my brother, Roman.”

Roman waves shyly as Janus glances towards him, flustering awkwardly.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to meet you both.” Janus replies. “My name is Janus.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Janus.” Remus nods before turning to Roman. “Come on, Ro. We gotta haul this upstairs.”

“But we can’t carry this all in one trip!” Roman whines.

“Oh, where’s your apartment?” Janus asks.

Remus checks the key.

“Number 413.”

“Ah. It’s not too far from my place. I’m in 501. Just a floor above and the first door on the right.”

“Ooh, we’re neighbors! Yay!” Roman cheers.

Janus huffs a laugh.

“That we are. So, would you like some help?”

Remus looks over to Roman and Roman nods eagerly. Remus chuckles and shakes his head with a smile.

“Sure. Just be careful. Some of the boxes have fragile things.” he replies.

Janus nods.

“Of course.”

With that, the twins grabbed their personal boxes while Janus handled the remaining three. He was surprisingly strong and didn’t even seem to struggle. Remus is pretty sure that the big box on the bottom was quite heavy. Janus doesn’t have a complaint and they pile into the elevator. As it slowly heads for the fourth floor, Janus finds himself curious about the twins. He knows by now that Remus is...well...not exactly human. He wants to know even more.

“So, what brings you two here? It’s been a while since we’ve had someone move in.” Janus says after a beat of silence.

The twins tense a little and shift.

“Oh dear. Too soon to ask?”

Remus shakes his head.

“No. Just caught us off guard. We settled here since it was the first place we could find after searching for so long. We’ve been on the run across the country. All the way from Miami, Florida actually. We’ve been in and out of hotels along the way here. We looked everywhere online for a good place where the rent price wasn’t a fuckton of dollars. After looking for so long, we found this place and here we are.” he explains.

Janus nods, feeling concerned.

What had these twins been through?

“I see,” he replies. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you on the run?” 

Roman answers this time.

“Home was bad.” he replies quietly, sighing as he gazes at a poster advertising a pirate themed amusement park.

If Remus didn’t have his arms full with boxes, he’d comfort his twin. He can only give him a sad smile.

“Yeah, mom and dad weren’t exactly dearest to us. We got up and left not too long ago while they were away at some big business meeting. I stole their money too. They were greedy fucks anyway.” he sighs.

Janus gives them a sympathetic look. It’s hard to tell with his mask but he’s smiling sadly too.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you got out though. I get it. My mother and father weren’t exactly loving either.”

“Is that why you wear those on your face?” Roman chimes in, glancing at Janus.

“Roman!” Remus hisses.

Janus smiles softly, finding Roman’s innocence a little endearing.

“It’s alright. I suppose it’s partially why. They never did like my...birthmarks.” he replies.

“Oh. I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

“Trust me, my dear. This is something you don’t want to see.”

Roman flusters. He finds himself feeling a little warm with how charming Janus is.

“O-Okay then.”

They continue talking some more, Roman excitedly telling Janus his plans as they continue trekking to their apartment. Roman wanted to get back into theatre now that he was free to do so. Remus occasionally joined in on the conversation, mentioning that he wanted to explore the city and be familiarized with the area...for reasons. By the time they reach the apartment door, Roman is giggling and seems to have already become friends with Janus. The conversation continues as they enter the apartment. 

It’s spacious enough for two, a small hallway leading into the living room. The walls are a light beige and the hardwood floors are a faded oak that seemed to have been waxed not too long ago. There’s another hall to the left of the living room and another hall to the right. The left hall leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The right hall leads into a small kitchen and dining room. There’s also a small laundry area at the end of that hall. It isn’t much but the twins like it. Any place that isn’t their old home is safe enough for him.  

Remus heads in first and Roman curiously follows with Janus trailing behind him. They gather in the living room, boxes set down to be unpacked in the morning. For now, the twins look around the apartment. Remus spots the heating system by the light switch in the hall and fiddles with it for a moment. Roman sees a big sliding glass door and immediately heads over there, making a sound of delight as he gets the lock undone with a click before sliding the door open. He steps out and is greeted with a good view of Detroit despite only being four floors up. He can see a train station, an abandoned dockyard with an old rusted freighter still floating in it, and part of the Ambassador bridge despite how dark the city is.

“So pretty! I’ve always wanted my own balcony!” Roman says, beaming as raindrops sprinkled all over his cheeks.

Remus chuckles.

“You can hang out there tomorrow, Ro. Come back inside. It’s cold out.” he calls. “And shut the door.”

“Kay!”

Roman lingers for a moment longer then does as his twin says, coming in and shutting the door before locking it too.

“I like our new home.” he says, joining Remus and Janus.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“Good, because we’re stuck here for a long time.” he says. 

Janus smiles softly, seeing how the twins really care for each other. 

“I’m glad you like it here. I hope you’ll sleep through the night. There’s a certain apartment down the hall upstairs that tends to be loud often.” he tells them, setting down the boxes he’d been carrying.

“I’ve slept through worse.” Remus shrugs though there’s a dark look in his eyes.

Remus still remembers hearing his mother scream, her shrill but sharp and haunting voice overpowering Roman’s cries. And if it wasn’t her, it was their father. Their father would beat Roman, drunk or not. Remus couldn’t do anything about it, having been locked away in the basement for most of his time in that old house. Didn’t mean he escaped those beatings. His father made sure he had his ‘fair share’ of punishment.

Janus smiles sadly. Just how badly had these twins been hurting?

“I see. Still, I figured I’d let you know ahead of time.” he says, deciding not to push it. “If you don’t need anything more, I have to go now. It’s late after all.”

Roman looks up from the boxes. He was about to open one when Janus said he had to go.

“Already? But I liked having you here, Janus.” he says, pouting a little. 

Janus huffs a laugh.

“Don’t worry, Roman. We’ll meet again soon. I don’t leave my apartment so I’m almost always home. Feel free to come over anytime soon, my dear.” he smiles softly.

Roman flusters again. Something about Janus makes Roman feel a little warm. 

“O-Okay then. Bye bye, Janus. It was nice to meet you.” he says, smiling bashfully.

“Goodbye, Roman.” 

Roman waves and watches as Janus leaves, happy to have already made a new friend. 

Meanwhile Remus was a little wary. So much has happened due to Roman trusting almost every person he’s met. The college incident was one of them. After that, Roman had a hard time trusting new people. So it’s a little surprising to see Roman easily get along with Janus and trust him. Especially with sharing a bit of his trauma. Shaking his head, Remus smiles fondly. At least Roman is happy for the time being.

“So, you already found a friend in Janus?” Remus asks.

Roman blushes a little, still smiling bashfully.

“Yeah. I think he’s nice. And I know I probably shouldn’t trust people so soon but I think Janus is someone we can trust.” he says. “I know it.”

Remus chuckles.

“If you say so, Ro. Now come on, we still have to unpack some stuff so we can get ready for bed.” he says, ruffling Roman’s hair again.

“Okay!”

So with that, the twins unpack what they can, filling the kitchen cabinets with what bit of food they could bring from their old home along with the kitchen cutlery. They had grabbed as many things needed when they first left their old home and kept it with them as they moved around. Their toiletries were from the many hotels they stayed at. For food, they either ate at the hotel’s buffet or had small meals from the stores around the place. 

Remus had stolen most of their greedy parents’ money for themselves to use but did his best to save it. Now that they have a new place to call home, Remus decides he’ll go grocery shopping in a few days. In the meantime, Remus was content to live off of the food they picked up on their way here. It wouldn’t be the first time they had instant noodles and a small bag of potato chips. 

Soon the twins unpacked what they could, the two bringing their luggage bags into the bedroom. They got undressed and into some warm pajamas. Roman’s pajamas are a plain white t-shirt and a pair of red sweats. Remus’ pajamas are a pair of grey sweats and a Thriller t-shirt. Now that they were in comfy clothes, Remus leads Roman to the bed.

“Alright, bed time, Ro.” Remus says, setting up Roman’s night light before joining him.

Roman gets in bed, holding a small crown plushie that Remus made for him to stim with. He’s quiet as he thinks about their safety. Yes, they were away from that awful place now but anything could happen. Especially with Remus being a vampire. Remus is an easy target for hunters and much more feral vampires. Roman has seen those vampires, one of them having even tried to drink his blood. Remus saved him though. Still, what if-

“Earth to Roman. You in there, Ro?” Remus taps his forehead.

Roman blinks and shakes his head clear, settling in bed.

“Sorry, Ree. I’m just a little worried. What if we’re found here or another feral vampire hurts me? What if it’s not safe here too?” he asks, fiddling with his crown plushie. 

Remus smiles softly, tucking Roman in.

“We won’t be found here. I made sure of it. Besides, if anything happens, I’ll be there to protect you. You know I’ll beat their asses.” he says.

Roman giggles.

“You always do, Ree.”

“Hell yeah. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Roman nods, yawning.

“Okay. I’ve been wanting to get into theatre now that we’ve settled. You think the local college will accept me?” he asks.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“They will. You’re super talented, Ro. You’re gonna do great.” he says.

Roman smiles at that before shifting.

“Okay...um...can you do that thing to help me sleep?” he asks.

That thing is basically Remus using his magic to help Roman sleep better and to manipulate his dreams so that the nightmare stays away.

“Of course.” Remus smiles softly, his eyes glowing a soft red. “Sleep.”

Remus waves his fingers and a red, sparkling aura of magic swirls from him and into Roman’s head, making him feel hazy and tired. Soon his eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. After a few moments, Roman is deep asleep. Remus sighs in relief and stands up, looking back at his brother for a moment before moving to turn off the lights. Then he slips out of the bedroom to continue unpacking and cleaning up. Hopefully tomorrow will be good for both of them now that they’re here. 

[unforth]

Bakery owner!dean, hungry endverse!cas

I wanted to warn you this ended up having a brief mention of John Winchester’s A+ Parenting. Am I misremembering that you’re actually kind of a John fan? Sorry about that...it’s largely incidental, fwiw. Also, this got kinda long, and I’m not sorry.

Also, mentions of drug use, and a mildly dub con kiss (there’s not explicit consent before hand)

*

Fuck, but it had been a long day. Exhausted, Dean finished consolidating all the garbages into one ginormous bag, hefted it over his shoulder, and carried it out the back door. The alley behind his bakery was as repulsive as always: reeking, with puddles best left unexamined, and a handful of rats skittering into the shadows. Ignoring them - but making sure the door was shut behind him - Dean strode to the dumpster and swung the bag atop it. An explosion of fetor burst outward as the new weight atop the garbage forced air from the bags beneath.

Ugh.

This bullshit was why Dean always saved taking the garbage out for last. He didn’t want to touch a single damn thing in his bakery after interacting with the alley. Heck, he didn’t even want to walk on his floor - that’s why he mopped before he closed and before he opened.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.

Grumbling under his breath, Dean stomped back toward his door. Something squished underfoot, and before Dean could look - before Dean could convince himself not to look under any fucking circumstances - and aggrieved voice protested, “Watch where you’re stepping, dickfuck.”

“Sorry,” said Dean, sincere, as he realized that the squishy thing was an arm, belonging to a scruffy homeless dude who’d been sleeping in what Dean had mistaken for a pile of recycling. “What’s a dickfuck, anyway?”

“You are,” the man said sourly. “No screw off and let me sleep.” He was filthy, his face covered in dirt, his hair matted, his clothing in rags that didn’t conceal his emaciated figure.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Dean replied. The man glowered and tugged a dilapidated box over his face. “Sleep well, asshole.” 

And Dean went back into the bakery.

He wiped his feet on the entry mat.

He washed his hands in the sink.

He looked with contentment at everything he’d built, shut down for the night after another successful, if exhausting day.

His wandering gaze spotted the basket of “day olds” that he’d repackaged to sell at half-price the next morning. 

An image of the gaunt, dirty man sleeping in the alley floated through his memory.

Selling his excess at a discount helped him keep the business afloat and meant he didn’t waste ingredients; that said, it also weirdly cost him money, because the customers who checked the “day olds” would, if they found nothing to their taste, usually opt for a pastry at full price instead.

So...if it wouldn’t really cost him much, if anything, to give the baked goods to someone in need.

Nodding as he made up his mind, Dean took up the entire basket - a half-dozen cookies, a loaf of bed, and two scones, not the most nutritious selection but when the alternative was “no food,” well, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that alley dude had begged.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry. He sure as fuck had looked hungry. Heading out the front door, Dean locked up and carried the basket around the block with him, returning to the back alley. The pile of boxes still looked like recycling, but alley dude’s fingers still poked out. Setting the basket down beside him, Dean lifted the limp hand and set it on the baked goods. No need to wake the guy up again. He could find the bounty later, and do with it as he would.

Chest glowing with that Good Samaritan feel, Dean headed home with a bounce in his step.

Maybe he should make this a regular thing - stop selling his “day olds” and donate them instead...

*

Dean hoisted the day’s garbage into the dumpster, turned to walk back to his back door, and stopped. Alley guy sat amidst his boxes, looking like some weird cardboard golem. Dean’s basket was sitting on the back stoop. Embarrassed, Dean looked away and scowled. He’d not given the food expecting thanks. Alley guy had never been there before; Dean had assumed he’d never be there again. Fuck, but seeing the dude was just awkward. Ignoring him as best he could, Dean walked by, took up his basket, opened his door, and--

“Hey, dickfuck - I’m allergic to dairy,” grumbled alley guy. “So, thanks for nothing, I guess.”

Opting not to turn around, Dean shrugged and said to his graffitied door, “eh, it’s not like you asked for that shit. You weren’t obligated to thank me, or to eat it. Hope you paid it forward, though.”

“Oh, yeah...cause I got so many friends or some shit. But yeah, the rats loved the crumbs. You dickfuck.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean walked back into the business. That’s what he got for trying to do a good deed. What a goddamn waste.

Still, the charity he’d e-mailed about donations hadn’t gotten back to him yet, and he had a baguette in the resale bin...grabbing it, Dean used a red pen to emphatically circled the ingredient list, went to the cooler and took a bottle of water, and poked his head back into the alley.

“Hey,” he said. Alley guy jerked around to stare at him. “Dairy free, asshole.” Dean threw the two toward alley guy, who snatched them from the air with surprising dexterity. “Any other allergies you wanna warn me about?”

“Manners,” alley guy replied flatly. “That gonna be a problem?”

“Pfft, like I care what the fuck you say or do,” Dean scoffed. “But if you die back here, I’m the one who’s gonna have to deal with the cops. Like I wanna talk to those SOBs over your mangy ass? No way. So, eat up.”

And before alley guy could reply, Dean went back inside, locking the door behind him.

*

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any hummus in there?”

“Buy your own.”

Over the days that followed, Dean and alley guy developed a weird rapport.

“You know your food is garbage.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Alley guy was abrasive, sardonic, and irreverent. In any other circumstances, Dean would want to deck him in the face, but his perpetual rudeness despite his dire circumstances was weirdly...endearing. It seemed a bizarre form of self-preservation, a show of strength that the man would sass him. Dean was willing to bet, oh, a fuckton, that his thinking so was a sign of his own stereotypes about the homeless - it’s not like losing their houses reduced them to personality-less manikins or some shit - but still, alley guy’s bullshit, and that Dean could give back as good as he got after kowtowing to all the crap that customers pulled on the daily, was refreshing.

“...did you figure out a dairy free quiche recipe just for me?”

“Why the fuck would I do that? New recipes are for paying customers.”

Dean totally expanded his knowledge of dairy-free cooking for alley guy’s sake.

“Ya know, you really don’t have to keep feeding me...”

“You leave, I stop.”

And despite his expectations that alley guy would leave...he never did. And occasionally, when Dean looked back, it would be to see yellowed teeth revealed as pink lips spread in a broad grin, and blue eyes sparkling, and an expression rife with all the appreciation that alley guy couldn’t express and Dean didn’t want to hear anyway.

Alley guy’s cheeks had some flesh on them again, too.

Seeing him - smiling, and appreciative, and douchey, and healthier - felt good.

Dean was gonna buy him a fucking toothbrush.

*

“Hey dickfuck - I’m not your charity case, you know,” grumbled alley guy, sniffing suspiciously at the crisco-crust pie Dean had brought out, along with a plastic fork and bottle of water.

“No fucking duh,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “You’re a strong, independent man who can leave anytime you wanted.”

“...no, I’m a useless, broke, jobless, homeless drifter with PTSD and not even enough money for a dime bag...and I could leave anytime I want.”

“Well, glad we sorted that out.”

“Yeah.”

“My name is Dean, by the way.”

“Oh?”

“Not dickfuck.”

“Bullshit,” retorted alley guy. “Your mama absolutely took one look at your dick face and wrote ‘dickfuck’ on your birth certificate.”

Flinching despite himself, Dean grimaced. He should let it roll off his back. There’s no way that alley guy could know he’d poked a sore spot, and no reason alley guy would care if he did know. And yet...some jokes hurt, and somehow Dean couldn’t escape the feeling that alley guy wouldn’t want Dean to actually be upset. Maybe that was reading way too much into their pseudo-relationship, but... 

“Hey, yo, call me whatever the fuck you want, but don’t diss my mama, okay?”

“Aww, yas, gotta love the whiff of toxic masculinity that comes out when someone shits on mom.”

“She died when I was 4.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Channeling his upset into a glare - I will not cry in front of alley guy, not gonna do it, not gonna do it - Dean headed back to his back door. “Oh. Thanks for the shitty memories, asswipe.”

Throwing the door open, he stepped in, expecting at any moment for alley guy to say something even more dickish, but there was only silence, until--

“I’m Cas,” alley guy called.

Catching the door a moment before it shut behind him, Dean tossed it open wide, stepped into the opening, and caught it with a hand. Alley guy was eating the cupcake, frosting smeared over his lips, and he offered Dean a disgusting, crumby smile.

“Sorry I’m a fuckwad.”

“No, you’re not,” grumbled Dean.

“...yeah, okay, usually you’re right. Usually, I’m not even a little sorry I’m a fuckwad. But I am sorry about your mom, dickfuck. Dean. If I’d known it was a sensitive topic I’d have made fun of your dad, instead.”

“You do that,” Dean said, quirking his lips in a half-smile. “Dad’s an alcoholic son of a bitch - with all possible insult to my grandma intended - and if he’d a known I’d grow up to be some pansy-ass baker, he’d have named me dickfuck, not that ma woulda let him.”

“Your dad’s a fucker,” said alley guy...Cas...solemnly.

“Cheers to that,” agreed Dean. “See you tomorrow?”

Dean expected a quick riposte, a nasty reply, a joke and a shrug to break the seriousness they’d unexpectedly descended into. Instead, Cas gave him a funny look, and said in an equally odd tone of voice, “yeah...yeah, I guess you will.”

Shaking his head, Dean retreated into his business.

What a weird fucking guy.

*

“Dean, I was wondering...you give me all this shit...is there anything I could do for you in return? Odd jobs? Mobsters you need driven from the premises? I’m handy with a screw driver and an every weapon in the US arsenal.”

“Really? Every single one? Even the black ops shit?”

“Especially the black ops shit. But I’m being serious.”

“That you’ll shut the mafia for me?”

“That I want to help. I know I seem like an ungrateful sod...that’s because I am an ungrateful sod...but I could, I don’t fucking know, sweep your stoop, or snake the pipes, or wipe your counters, or...” 

“...just so I’m absolutely clear, you’re not offering me a blow job or an assfuck in exchanged for baked goods, right?”

“...would you accept a blow job or an assfuck in lieu of payment?”

“From someone with your skank-ass breath and gingivitis? Fuck no.”

“I don’t have gingivitis on my cock, Dean.”

“And honestly...if you don’t take a goddamn shower, I’m not even letting you on the premises. But--”

“But you appreciate the offer, you don’t mind giving me baguettes, it’s definitely not a no homo thing, blah blah blah, I get it, I--”

“--but I got a shower stall in the basement.”

“...oh.”

“So, get your ass cleaned up - and no, I don’t mean sexually, I’m not a homo but I am bi as fuck, but like, just no, the levels of squicky in the homeless dude I’ve been feeding paying me back in sexual favors is just all kinds of nope - and then if you want to help, I could use an extra set of hands with the dishes. But if you do, I’m fucking paying you. Okay?”

“I don’t need your charity.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I’m not offering it. Heck, you’re in this alley every fucking day - that already makes you about a billion times more reliable than the last dumbass I hired as a kitchen boy.”

“You want me to be your...kitchen boy?”

“Do you want to be my kitchen boy?”

“...we’re still not talking about sex?”

“Just get your ass in here and take a fucking shower. And I’ve got a bag of clothes I’ve outgrown - before you say it, I mean that I’ve got too fucking chubby to fit into, thank you very much for fucking noticing - and I’ve been figuring out how to give them to you anyway, so you can change into those.”

“You wanted to give me clothes.”

“It was you or Salvation Army.”

“They’re a bunch of fucking transphobes, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I opted for you. I assumed you weren’t a bunch of fucking transphobes.”

“What if I’m one fucking transphobe?”

“Look, you want to take a shower or not?”

“...yeah. Yeah, that would be nice, Dean.”

“Good. Get your utterly non-sexual ass into my place of business. You’re hired.”

“What’s your fraternization policy?”

“Shut up, Cas.”

“That’s an oddly specific policy.”

“Shut up, Cas.”

“...make me?”

“Shower. Now.”

“Yes, Dean.”

*

A distinctive musky, skunky smell wafted through the kitchen, so strong it over-powered the mouthwatering scents of proofing croissants and caramelizing sugar. Wrinkling his nose, Dean stuck his head into the dining area, expecting to see some stoners with the munchies buying him out of cookies, but the scent terminated at the door. If it wasn’t a customer, it might be one of his neighbors...but the other businesses around were closed on the weekend...or someone who lived in the building above...but that should drift up, not down...or from the alley outside...but the handful of small windows in the kitchen area were nailed shut to prevent exactly that kind of problem...so where...?

Grimacing, Dean returned to the kitchen.

“Heya, Dean,” Cas drawled.

Cas.

On his third day of work.

Late.

Dressed in Dean’s hand-me-downs.

Shaved.

Surprisingly hot, now that he had some flesh on his bones and some color to his skin.

Pupils dilated.

High out of his fucking gourd.

“Out,” snapped Dean.

“Oh...did I blow it?” Cas broke into a lazy smile, not a hint of surprise in his voice. “Shocking.”

“For fuck’s sake, dude - no, you didn’t blow it, but you do not show up in my place of business reeking. You get your ass to the shower, clean up, change into some fresh clothes, and then wash the goddamn dishes like we discussed.”

“And if I don’t?” There was something bizarre about Cas’ expression. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d think it was...affronted? Insulted? Put out?

What, because I didn’t fire him?

Over some goddamn pot?

Who the fuck does he think I am?

“Then you can go right back out to that alley, bury yourselves in those ratty, stinking boxes again, and I’ll bring you some bread tonight,” replied Dean with a shrug. “No skin off my back either way. You’re here because you fuckin’ offered, man, not because I insisted or nothing. Anyway, you want to afford more weed, you need money, so...dunno why you’re acting like a dickfuck about this, but seems to me that from your point of view, it’s a lose-lose, and from mine, it’s whatever. Capish?”

Silent, Cas stared at Dean.

Sending a silent what the fuck skyward, Dean turned to check on the croissants.

Cas stared at him.

Ignoring him, Dean glanced through glass front of the stove to see if they were up to temperature.

Cas stared at him.

Running through his mental task list, Dean checked his stocks of frozen cookie dough - and Cas stared - and gathered the ingredients for Sally Lunn rolls - and Cas stared - and tossed some tart shells in the oven to blind-bake - and Cas stared - and set some butter on the counter to warm to room temperature...

...and Cas stared, and said, “You’re right,” with solemn conviction. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, ready to work.”

“Awesome. You do that.” Dean offered him a half-smile, and Cas startled and shook out his arms as though a spell had been broken.

“And Dean...thank you.” He smiled. “But I’m not a dickfuck. You are.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dean smiled back; the genuine grateful pleasure on Cas’ face was irresistible. “Get out of here and come back when you smell better.”

“Yes, Dean.”

*

There was a knock on the door of the closet that Dean liked to pretend was his office. Looking up from his account books, Dean frowned. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly, hesitantly, and Cas stepped into view, stopping framed by the rectangle of brighter light that emanated from the kitchen. A year had done wonders for Cas; he’d gone from sleeping in the alley and showering in the basement and working odd hours to being a full time employee, with an apartment, and time off, and clothes of his own, and a permanent 5 o’clock shadow. If the occasional whiff of patchouli drifted about him, well, it meant he cared enough to mask the pot stink, and that too was a vast improvement. How he spent his extra money and leisure time was his own damn business.

Even if, sometimes, Dean wished it was his own business.

But nope. Cas is off limits. Given our relationship - as benefactor and benefactee, as employer and employee, as...fuck, I don’t even know, but it’s awkward - there’s no way in fuck-all I can tell him that I think he’s gorgeous and hardworking and totally spank bank material.

Being the boss blows sometimes.

And Cas was still standing in the doorway, still watching Dean in that peculiar, steady way he had, and still silent.

“Look, these books don’t balance themselves. So unless you got an accounting associates you haven’t told me about, spill it and then kindly fuck off.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” grumbled Cas, rolling his eyes.

“Yet here you are,” Dean replied with an ingenuous smile.

“Yeah, well, not for long.” Something in Cas tone made Dean really look up, really look at him, and he was surprised to find Cas serious, troubled, and focused. Blinking at him, Dean set his pen down, closed his book, and tried not to worry. “I, um.” Cas was hesitant. Cas was tongue tied. Cas was never anything but brash and confident and full of amazing douchiness.

“Hey - dude...” Dean rose, and shimmied to the side to initiate getting through the teeny path beside his teeny desk, but Cas arrested him with an upheld hand. “...whatever it is, you know it’s okay, right? I trust you.” Cas laughed hollowly and Dean’s concern intensified. “If shit’s going down, you don’t have to face that shit alone any more, ya know?”

“Yeah...” said Cas bitterly. “Yeah, I know.” Cas took a deep breath, let it out as he squeezed his eyes shut, and said in a rush, “I quit.”

“What?” exclaimed Dean.

Cas opened his eyes, deep blue obscured as they narrowed with uncertainty, and nodded slowly for no obvious reason. “I said, I quit.”

“Why?!” Shock, worry, and disappointment collided within Dean. If Cas quit, would he end up on the streets again? If Cas quit, would Dean get to see him any longer? If Cas quit--?

“Because as long as I work here, I can’t do this,” Cas replied, and as Dean watched as though time had dilated, Cas lunged forward, knocked into the desk, grabbed the loose sides of Dean’s apron, and pulled him into a rough kiss. Stubble tickled at Dean’s cheeks. Lips applied amazing pressure to his own. Cas’ face was so close that his two eyes seemed four until Dean’s eyes slipped shut and he leaned in, deepening the kiss, teasing at Cas’ lips with his tongue.

Cas jerked away from him with a gasp, chest heaving, and for a split second Dean thought he’d somehow misunderstood everything.

If he doesn’t want tongue...is there something, anything, else that kissing me out of the blue could mean??

“Cas?” Dean asked weakly.

“Yeah, dickfuck?” replied Cas with a mysterious smile. His tongue flicked out and ghosted over his lips, and Dean swallowed a surge of arousal. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“It was the kiss I’ve been wanting to give you for a goddamn year,” Cas explained contentedly. “Whaddaya think?”

“What do I think?” Eyeing him, Dean took a deep breath and let it go, raising two fingers and brushing them over his mouth. The way Cas stared at every movement was more delicious than Dean’s special, patented, best-in-the-tristate-area apple pie. “I think I want to do it again.”

“Good,” said Cas, his hunger as obvious as the growing bulge in his pants. He reached out...and Dean stopped him with a hand.

“After I finish the books, and seriously, anywhere more comfortable than in here, okay?”

“In the kitchen?” Cas suggested with a lascivious wink.

“Ew. No! Unhygienic. Do you know how much trouble I’d get into if the health department found out?”

“...aren’t I worth it?”

“Okay...look...just to be clear...we are talking about sex, right?”

“For once...god, I hope we are,” said Cas fervently. “Because if not, this is, hands down, the most confusing conversation I’ve ever had with you - and that’s saying something.”

“What?! I’m not confusing,” Dean exclaimed. “You’re fucking baffling.”

“I’m easy,” disagreed Cas. “In every sense of the word.”

“I call bullshit. If you were easy, it wouldn’t have taken me a year to get in my pants.”

Cas raised a finger. “You were trying to get in my pants?” 

“No! Of course not!” Dean spluttered. “I’m your boss, that’d be wrong on so many levels!”

“That’s about what I figured,” agreed Cas with a hum. “But you’re not my boss any longer.”

“That’s why you quit.”

“So if we can’t fuck in the kitchen, how about in the shower?”

Catching his lip between his teeth, Dean barely quelled a hysteric laugh. He wanted to - fuck, how he wanted to - but... “Ok. Here’s what’s going to happen. First, you’re rehired. There’s no fucking way I can close up for the night alone before at least eleven, unless I’ve got help. Payroll is due, and this shit won’t balance, and I can’t go anywhere until it’s done. So, you do closing shit, and I’ll do fucking math, and then, when once all that is set...we can talk. Okay?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?” smirked Cas.

“Has anyone ever told you I don’t give a fuck?” Dean retorted.

“Don’t worry.” Cas’ smile went gentle, and Dean’s heart fricken melted. “I love it.”

“You--”

“I’ll go wash the dishes now, sir,” Cas interrupted, grin going saucy. “Come fire me whenever you’re ready...”

Dean’s mouth worked around a reply, but no words would come; Cas, looking eminently proud of himself, turned and sauntered from the room, ass wiggling.

“I will,” Dean called after him as the door swung shut. He sounded strained, and high pitched, and he’d have been mortified if he wasn’t so damn excited and horny.

Guess no good deed goes unpunished...

The gorgeous sound of Cas’ rich laughter echoed loudly enough that Dean could savor it despite the door separating them.

...and man, is the punishment for this good deed going to be a goddamn blast.

Hot damn.

[stylesprimes]

I've got some more Harry questions for my faves! 1. Describe your first impression of lights up (the song and the video) 2. What was your favorite part of fine line promo and why? 3. If you could pick any of Harry's song to direct a video for, which song would it be and describe your idea for the video. 4. What is your favorite thing about Harry?

thank you!! you are so sweet, thank you for coming back!! 

1. oh my god... i remember being a whole-ass mess that entire day and freaking out with ivana @henrysparkles on the phone for hours and hours. i wasn’t sure how i felt about the song at first, i really did enjoy how poppy it was, but the music video—fuck. the costumes, the vibes, the direction. it was so overwhelming to see the huge progression from anything we’d seen from HS1 (not that HS1 was bad, but everything we’ve seen from fine line is on a completely other level). there was just a lot more artistry to it all? i was overwhelmed but in love at the same time. 

2. as much as it drove me fucking bonkers, the eroda thing. mainly bc i was working a very very very boring job at the time and it gave me something to do. the fact that they went so above and beyond to create a fictional fucking island and internet conspiracy and there were all these discord dudes convinced it could never be harry styles was a cherry on top. it just seemed like... such a harry thing to do, and not gonna lie the fact that so much effort and money was put into promoting one single... hot. (and it’s paid off!!!). snl is a very, very close second. harry is made for that show and he did such a fucking incredible job. 

3. ummm fuck, i’m actually starting with the idea for a video, i would love for him to do some low-budget indie shit (as i have mentioned many times before on this blog), and i think a song that would pair really well with is sunflower, vol. 6? like film it on a a handheld digital video camera from like 2002, maybe have some half-assed greenscreen shit part of the time(see phoebe bridger’s new video for ‘kyoto’) so there’s a field of sunflowers behind him, dancing in an old sunlit kitchen with a boy or girl, some frolicking in a field. some weird psychdelic shit going on in the greenscreen behind him and he stares into the camera and keeps a straight face during the ‘boop boops.’ everything is yellow.  

4. the fact that he’s a nice dude???? like i can’t explain it much more than that, i really admire him for his professionalism and always trying to do the best thing, and i guess an extension of that is him just being himself, unapologetically? i see how that’s paid off for him, and i know he has a fuckton of money and privilege behind him, but i try to emanate him in that sense where i can.   

sorry i wrote mini essays for all of these, thank you so much for sending these along, you are wonderful!! i hope everything is going okay for you 💞

[hide-the-cutlery]

The next two days are going to suck.

I’m out of pills. Well, not completely out. I have about 8 of my anxiety pills left — to last me 3 weeks. I’m supposed to take 3 a day. So I have those, and some otc pills that take me out of myself a little, but I have to be careful with those, because, for me, they can trigger panic. I can pick up my pain meds in 2 days, but they usually makes me puke. I thought I was doing better this month with my usage, but I guess not. Then there’s more anxiety pills that supposedly help with my alcohol cravings, which aren’t a controlled substance, so I can probably get those next week. None of this really matters, because I don’t have shit now.

I’m so medicated. Even if I took everything as prescribed, I’d probably be an incoherent mess. I’m a master manipulator with doctors, which I’m simultaneously proud of and ashamed of. I know how to get what I want, within reason. It’s all about building a rapport with them and finding that sweet spot where they believe you need what you’re getting and never trying to push for more. I tried a few times to get another of my anxiety pills a day, but my psychiatrist pushed back and changed something else instead, so I knew I had to drop it.

What boggles my mind is that I’m a fucking alcoholic (addict), and these medical professionals still throw potentially dangerous, addicting medication at me. What pisses me off is how much they don’t listen. I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and brought a list of things I wanted to talk about with him, since the appointments go so fast. I wanted to explain my racing thoughts keeping me from completing simple tasks. My complete lack of impulse control. My delusional beliefs that the universe is trying to get back at me for being a shitty person. That I’ll stay up all night (sometimes for 2-3 nights in a row) and do things like clean. Even if I lay down, turn off everything, and pray for sleep, I just can’t. The fact that I didn’t finish my cleaning (or whatever I started) gets in my head and makes rest impossible. His solution? Let’s increase your seroquel again.

Scary things are starting to happen. Sometimes I go on a “bender” in a store(s), and I don’t remember when, how, what I got, etc. My memory needs to be jogged sometimes. This past time I got twelve bottles of body wash, for a total of 29. And that’s not including hairspray, hair gel, hair accessories, dry shampoo, lotion, makeup, nail polish, and a fuckton of clothes. I am out of control. It’s funny — I want to lose a little more weight (I just lost ~25lbs), but then all the clothes I’ve acquired won’t fit, so the fruits of my labor will be spoiled. I’ll have to start over. That is literally my thought process, and it’s so fucked. Stores know me. They watch me. They follow me. They know my fucking name and know what I do. And honestly, I just don’t care. I mean I care because I don’t want to get caught again, but the odds are seemingly in my favor. Even the LP woman where I actually got the cops called on me said “we’ve been watching you a long time, but you’re too good.” Not saying that as something to brag about, just recalling what happened. Also, I recognize when someone is trying to manipulate me. She was trying to get me to confess to other things because what they must have had on me would never hold up in court. I am not stupid. I don’t know what I did that time to allow them to catch me, but clearly I slipped up somewhere. Either that, or they just went with it, hoping I’d confess. Which I did. I cooperated; hopefully it helps me in the end. I was watching trashy tv this morning, and a woman mentioned she went to jail for two months for petty theft. The host of the show even seemed shocked by that. Maybe she had priors or other factors that played into it. But yeah, I can’t go to jail! It’s not an excuse, and if you look at my actions alone, yeah, maybe I deserve to go to jail, too. But (prepare yourself for some massive excuses) I’m sick. I don’t do it because I want material things. I don’t think I am above the law. I’m not trying to make some pathetic stand against capitalism. I just can’t control my impulses, and I’m sick. I’m working with my therapist, my psychiatrist (at least I make an effort to), and some women in AA to get help, and nothing is working. I thought after I got caught, I’d stop, and for a while, I did. But that apparently wasn’t enough, either. It’s a compulsion — fighting it is futile. It actually started out as excessive spending, but I ran out of the means to keep that up, so now it’s this. I know it’s because of my issues with addiction and mental health. I don’t see it any differently than drinking, drug use, sex, or whatever. It’s an alternative to drinking. I can’t do that anymore, so this filled the void. Every time I have spent money excessively or done this, I haven’t been drinking. The object of my addiction (for me, at least), bounces around until I can’t do that thing anymore, and my brain holds up a sign that says NEXT in glowing, red letters. Like a “no vacancy” sign at a shitty motel.

I know before I went on that little tangent, I was listing some things that are scaring me. Sometimes, after I wake up, I’ll check my phone and find that I tried to write, but it’s total jibberish. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing time. I don’t know where the days go; I wake up and (try to) go to bed. I’ll start to do something, my mind will go blank, and I won’t remember what I was doing. I’m stumbling all over the place. I’ll try to have conversations (usually in the morning), and I’ll be able to hear myself slurring. I seem to talk without thinking. An example: I’ll be in a room with only one other person, talking to them, but it will feel like part of myself has separated from me and is screaming “You LIAR! Shut the fuck up! That’s not true and you know it. Quit pulling things out of your ass and tell the fucking truth. Drop the whole facade; you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, nor do you believe what you’re saying. You’re pathetic. Spineless. You’re fake.” I swear I couldn’t pick myself out of a lineup sometimes.

I feel that third presence with me frequently, but recently it hit a new level of intensity. I had a few job interviews a couple weeks ago and I found myself exaggerating the truth so much that it made me feel uncomfortable. All I could hear in my head was “LIAR LIAR LIAR”. (And forcing myself to make unwavering eye contact made me feel ill.) I tried to tell myself that’s just how interviews go, and that they weren’t really lies at all, just maybe a few embellishments, but I cannot listen to myself when I’m being rational. Irrationality is really all I know lately. I ended up taking a position with a company that seemed sketchy as hell, but I was desperate. I’m tired of being broke and needed the money so badly that it would have been absolutely foolish of me to decline the offer. The me who showed up to those interviews and got hired was not the me who showed up on the first day. The embellishments and feigned self-confidence were gone — all that was left was pitiful, anxious me with one foot out the door in case I had a panic attack and who won’t look you in the face, much less make eye contact. The more and more I learned about the position and the company, the more I wanted out. It turned out to be door-to-door sales, which was not how the job was described in the interviews. If there ever were a job that wasn’t for me, that’d be it. The leader of my team obviously noticed and basically let me quit. So I’m back to being unemployed. Oh well, it was a life lesson. I’m also back to being broke (not that I ever wasn’t). I didn’t even get paid for my training! I’m doing worse and worse things to get a few bucks here and there. It’s shameful. I would have declined the position on the spot, but my family is pushing me so hard to go back to work full time that I couldn’t in good conscience say thanks, but no thanks. I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think I’m ready. Sadly, you can’t look at someone and see what’s going on in their mind. If they could do that, I’m pretty sure they’d back off. I’ve been telling them I have to make my own decisions, and my priority is getting some help with my mental health. That didn’t really go over well. They think I’m capable because I had my shit (somewhat) together a few years ago, but it’s not a few years ago anymore. I’m still recovering and struggling. The tension in this house is almost tangible, and it’s completely my fault. Well, it’s my fault in the sense that I’m not where they want or expect me to be. It’s not that I don’t want to work or contribute financially. I do. I want a normal existence, but “this life I loathe is in my way”.

So because of all this, I’ve decided to look at getting a complete psych evaluation. I’ve never been given any kind of diagnoses aside from issues with depression, anxiety, and substance abuse. I know that’s not all that’s going on. I’ve had potential diagnoses thrown around like bipolar disorder, BDP, OCD tendencies, suppressed memories of trauma... I’m sure the pills don’t help (“but it sure is funny”). I take them because I can’t handle day to day functioning. Every day it feels like there’s a crisis, and I’ve felt this way long before I ever took a swig of vodka or popped some pills. When I discovered those things, nothing seemed as intense anymore. I stopped jumping at my own shadow. No wonder I’m an addict.

[ellaintrigue]

Look at me trying to catch feelings like a dumbass...

Amazingly, as much as I've been through with men, I'm still hoping to find a connection one day. For the most part I don't try too hard and enjoy talking to multiple men on sites like Badoo. It's fun and helps pass the time. So 4 days ago I matched with a guy from DC on there and he seemed hippy and artsy like me so we had a lot in common.

He was clean (no jail swag) and attractive so I felt he was a good bet even though I still love my bad boys. It isn't always about finding something wild and fun, it's about who is stable and wholesome. He said he definitely wanted to meet and I felt enthused but suggested we talk longer. He showed me his dog, we talked about the current global situation, hobbies, interests, and he told me what he did for work (bakery) and I told him I was doing customer service and striving for more. Then it felt like he slapped me across the face.

The first time a man slapped me across the face I was shocked, humiliated, and instantly felt unsafe when I had felt safe a moment ago. It's not a good feeling. Fortunately no one hit me this time but my new crush had work suggestions for me after I said I was trying to rebuild my career life: "you should be a cam girl, you have the looks for it, or find other ways to sell yourself!!"

In that moment, I felt hurt. I felt degraded. And every time a man does something to make me lose my trust it feels like it piles onto the ghosting, stealing, leading on, emotional betrayal, stalking, and assault that so many others have put me through. Which is a fucked up feeling that I could probably only get past with like 50 years of counseling.

"But you support the adult industry already," said one of my friends when I told him. Yes, of course I do. There are plenty of college girls doing camming and stripping to make money. There are interactions where women get paid for sex and no one gets hurt. But it isn't for me. And the problem is that this guy isn't the first dude to say this stupid shit to me!

I don't want men to give me money, I don't beg for help, and I don't come off desperate for work or like I'm fucked up when talking to new men. People like to slut shame me for doing pinup modeling but that ain't even on dating sites. Face and body, fully clothed. There is no reason to assume I'm an exhibitionist. I even thought about my heavy makeup but even Church ladies do that shit. There's a mutual friend between my mom and one her friends on FaceBook with heavy dark eyeliner, long mascara, huge swipes of eye shadow and thick plump hot pink lips and bleach blonde hair. And she is the biggest Bible thumping bitch out there, she told me I would burn in hell for being pro-choice once (I seriously need to get paid every time a conservative wishes me harm over my opinions so I can fucking retire). No one is going to tell that woman to hook or cam, a lot of women wear makeup.

Despite all of this, when I am talking to people on social media or new men, there is a literal fucking % of folks that tell me to strip off or sell myself when I mention I'm in between careers. I don't get defensive although I know I'm done with the person in a few minutes, but I say it's not for me. Then they usually ask me why I'm not comfortable with myself or my body (I swear these guys are their own cliche). At that point I ask them if they would tell their mom, sisters, or if they have young children, their daughters, to strip or hook and they usually get mad and block me.

I asked this attractive curly-haired guy I talk to daily if he felt it was wrong for people to suggest sex work to me at random and he said, "I think it is. If you don't choose sex work on your own, you sure as shit don’t need someone to tell you to do it." That validated my feelings a little, as I asked him after the DC guy made me feel like dirt. I wasn't sitting there like "wah, why are people mean to me," but seriously, why can't people just be respectful? If a man asked me for job ideas I wouldn't tell him to clean porta potties for a living (although that is good money).

None of my cherished thuggies would tell me to go hook! That's because those guys grew up around drugs, hard lifestyles and seeing women hook out of desperation and get hurt on the street. And that's the problem with the other guys I talk to that suggest this nonsense: they lack life experience and think every girl is going to do the shit they see on Pornhub. College kids, white-collar, geeks, and the other non-streetwise yuppies are sitting there with sex floating around in their heads and saying the first thing they think to women they try to date, then wonder why women don't respect them.

Now, forget the fact I'm not interested in masturbating on camera for random strangers, let's look at the big picture. Camming may not seem very sordid but I have to look at cam girls sometimes, and also deal with prostitutes to an extent in my online dealings.

Sure, you got the hot 20 year old college chick on cam sites but then you got a 50 year old woman the next screen over. She is pretty yet haggard and sits there fingering herself for... hours. Camming is generally low paying and the men are incredibly rude. So this woman sits there literally looking bored and she's clearly dry, but she does it so she can get a check. There are wild chicks that like to be seen, but let's face it: a lot of women are doing it out of desperation. For every 500 gawking guys roaring "THIS IS SO HOT" are 500 women trying to make ends meet and putting on fake smiles for hornballs for a few bucks.

Then let us not ignore that a lot of people in the sex trade have low inhibitions from being sexually abused as children. It's just a theme I've been well aware of over the years. Sometimes it borders on self-destructive behavior mixed with drugs and extreme promiscuity. The jittery "whore" standing on the outside of town? Maybe her stepfather raped the fuck out of her over and over, no one did anything, and now she just feels really fucked in the head and needs an escape. Judge not.

A lot of cam girls and other digital sex industry workers are strippers and hookers, I guess that goes without saying. But it is just one more thing they're doing for their pimp. Pimps aren't always bad, you usually need one to make sure you don't get raped or beaten. Of course there are plenty that basically enslave you and will rape and beat you too.

I have had to deal with a handful of pimps in my online dealings as well. They aren't scary looking black men in fluffy purple suits, the majority are female and they are often strict people with a vibe of unpleasantness that skirt lesser regulated online adult industries. One was dealing out some shit with a vague reference to children and I ran like hell. Throughout the rural USA South there is a lot of prostitution and child exploitation.

The main theme of what I see in my digital exploring is a fuckton of porn. Many a pretty blonde, of course, but then we go right back to women down on their luck. There are tons of scars and I can't tell if they are from childbirth procedures and complications or worse things. One woman had a missing breast but I knew that was from cancer. Many women are 50+ with the flash of a shitty camera giving them eerie red eyes and so many look sad.

Everyone is horny and wants to have fun in this life, it's human nature and something I as well crave. But it will be with a man that respects me, not one that tells me I should sell my vagina. And while there are women that love doing porn, getting paid for sex and showing off, there are plenty that don't. There are so many women that are desperate for money, that have been abused and don't even know what it's like to be loved, and are trapped into a vicious loop of a lifestyle that they will never escape from.

Or I can dumb it down this way: if you wouldn't masturbate online to an insulting crowd of foreign guys or allow yourself to be penetrated by multiple strangers for money then definitely don't suggest it for someone else to do.

[pidgezero-one]

yesterday was a holiday so here's a pastebin tuesday

good:

no reset marathon was awesome as always. thank you everyone who supported as a viewer or donator, especially fawful for dropping a fuckton of donations and invariel for saving me when my housing plans fell through at 2 am. i'm really lucky to be able to do what I do and have the support of wonderful friends.

speaking of wonderful friends, the day after I got back from no reset i finally talked things through (happened kinda randomly...) with my best friend I had a falling out with, and we're on good terms again. there are no words that can describe how happy I am about this and I hope our friendship can go on to be something that's healthy for both of us. it's so surreal that that lingering dull feeling of regret and sadness that's been weighing me down for so long is just all of a sudden gone. this is the timeline I wanted but thought would never happen. i never stopped caring about him even if I had to be distant for a while and I think we understand and forgive each other and are ready to just move on. neither one of us was antagonistic or malicious no matter how painful it was and I guess that made it way easier lol. definitely been in higher spirits bc of this

elm and flek coming over on the weekend was fun, I love those guys. wish elm lived closer so we could do it more often

I fucking love how I look now and i've never ever felt this way about myself in my life.

bad:

my 2 main hangout spots are not somewhere I feel really "safe" right now, and that sucks. one has too many people with too much interpersonal drama with each other and I dont want to fucking deal with it. the other is somewhere I now share with someone who broke my heart that im not over yet, and I made the mistake of saying it was fine. i thought it was fine, but i was wrong, im not over it at fucking all. i dont really know how to handle interacting with someone who did a lot of wonderful things for me but also hurt me badly in ways that were like... not accidental, not heat of the moment. and it makes me want to keep interactions distant and minimal. hard to explain. feels like im unappreciative of what he did for me but at the same time, im still very "what the *fuck?*" over how he chose to end things. just awkward and stressful for me in my 2 homes and i hate that it's like this. dont really have it in me to seek out a new one either.

neutral:

i said I was hustling as hard as I can this year to stabilize and be able to attend more stuff. that's going pretty well. my debt is close to paid off, and i've spent the last week working on input display adapters and twitch emotes. any money I can raise is good, but i'd rather work for it than ask for it. (not that I dont want donations and stuff lol but my first option will always be to earn it). that means I have less time to stream, but i'm just prioritizing. (if you're curious about the full list of stuff I can be commissioned for, check out my list at http://pidgezero.one)

that's about it for the week

[tamiddyinyourcity]

Does anyone in my real life still read this blog? I don't think so. Patrick the PussyAssBitch/Danny Defeato probably stopped awhile back, and I don't hold too much interest in that. Bush Whore also probably quit.... or did she? Is seeing her best friend's ex girlfriend having a mental breakdown online amusing for her?

It must've been before, since the bitch kept doing it. (Then complaining to Patrick that I write about her.... No shit dumbass, I owe no sweet nothings to a bitch that was eager to make me the bad guy in her own story, even when before the first breakup happened, it was still "im worried about him having a girl best friend, but then again thats probably due to so many cheating dynamics and more ive witnessed growing up as well as usually banging or having guy friends who hope to bang me, so shes probably not a bad person and i just need to be less anxious; i should meet her or something and feel a vibe for myself."

And then post-breakup, when we got back together but he wanted me to apologize, i was totally fine doing so. (That's a half truth; i hated the idea, but eventually grew into a 'saving my energy' sort of mindset, and figured..... might as well clear the air. Plus, i believe most people are redeemable for their actions. Except for Marco, who officially loses the train metaphor and would be tripped onto some train tracks with ease.)

Buuuut nope, Azalea continued being a stank hoe.

Then even post breakup number two, kept stalking my blog???? Like hoe me and him are not together and dont plan to date again????? Let a bitch vent?

She's a bird. :)

Anyway.

I'll admit it was flattering, but jesus. I hate people who overcomplicate things, so much.

And I guess as I woke up today, I reflected on things.

I feel pretty... good these days.

I'm dating someone who communicates with me. And actually treats me to things simply because they want to. He cooks for me, and with me. He's a real sweet guy, and I'm glad we ended up seeing eachother.

I guess it just feels nice, being in an actual healthy relationship.

And if I'm sure no exes or weirdos see this....

It feels fantastic finding someone that really showed me Patrick #2 wasn't jack shit.

He did good things during our relationship, but in hindsight, always could have done more.

A guy with a girl he clearly likes, works a full time job and only ever spends his money on gas or lunch, still not bothering to buy his clearly poor girlfriend a plate of food? He paid no rent whatsoever either, so it really wasn't gonna dent him anyway.

The same dumbass that made a double/triple decker sandwich next to me as I complained about starving. He was such a dumbass, for fuck's sake...

He did eventually learn it sorta peeved me off, and did offer to treat me every once and awhile.

And still have mixed feelings about last Christmas. DEFINITELY STILL PISSED AT HIS RUDE ASS REACTION TO MY GIFT WITH HIS UNGRATEFUL ASS, that fuckass bitch, thats exactly why I took that shit back a week later. (Better to have it lost in my bedroom, than lost in his. Don't need his dumbass to fucking mock me to whatever naive person he goes with next. "Oh yeah, I got her freshwater pearl earrings, ahd she got me this painting and a fuckton of pins! Hurhurhur how fucking hilarious!" God, he pisses me off in so many damn ways.

His gift was..... eh.

Sweet, but like, it was a pre-bought twofer gift he got at a gift shop. With the abalone earrings, at least THAT was "Oh my godddddd, I love them!" Were they my type of style? Other than the iridescence, not really. I don't really wear dangly earrings. Loved em as a kid, but, they make me self conscious. Just.... feels like they could get stuck on something with too wrong a swing.

But anyway, I already owned pearl earrings.

I came to his house that night.... wearing pearl earrings.

So opening a box, and seeing at what looks like, at first glance, cheap pearl earrings, that I could buy a 20 pack of for 1.99 at the Beauty Supply store.... had made me upset.

I could've laughed it off and still found it nice, if he didn't rag on my sentimental gift so hard.

Girls do not like when you treat their handmade painting, letter about being happy to give things a 2nd try, and your gifted pins about your interests as disposable, as you.... give them cheap earrings that they already owned, that were PRE BOUGHT, and lacked a card.

.....

Outside of him being stingy as fuck while I blew mad money buying more shit for him and his (really sweet) mother, when I already knew I was gonna probably be broke trying to find a sublet to move into....

A great example of *why men deserve less*

..... He was also a massive coward. Was he honest to me about why Azalea didn't like me before we broke up? No. Was he honest about how Azalea was annoyed at having me at the party when I deadass gave him a several day period to tell me, so that if i was told not to come, I could plan something else, and not be hurt trying to put away my outfit or unpack card games? Nope. Was he honest at any point? No.

Hell, even the night I broke up with him.

He had a chance to be fucking real.

He was given a chance to kiss me. I knew if he turned it down, it was a sign he didn't like me enough and to leave. If he did, then I would've never gave him the breakup letter. We could've talked things out, because sometimes we flourished when honest conversations happened.

.....

He turned me down. I accepted that calmly, gave him the letter, and a nice hug.

Only once I got home, suddenly he's vagueposting sad Pepe memes to twitter, and suddenly texting me how much he liked the letter; how sad he was to see me go. All that. Even said he wished he did kiss me.

.......

Guess what he did when given one last chance to talk?

Lied.

And then another after that?

Lied.

......

He always lies. God forbid anyone else deals with him.

Never communicated until worst case scenarios already happened.

And a twat.

Always so condescending.

.......

At some point, I thought he was the best relationship ever.

Until I met another depressed white twitter Marxist, and he was six feet tall with an even bigger dick that PROBABLY took longer than 4 seconds to come.

And he had a personality too, which had me like.... Oh, nice.

Then Cam, then I think two others. I forgot the others.

Cam..... And then Kieran, but that was more one sided, still a chill person.... Ah, then JC.

Juan Carlos is a fucking dumbass, ive noticed. Not much to say about him, other than he was definitely the official transitioner to make me forget Patrick had existed.

Wow, all it took was someone else to be good at oral, and being the first time of someone else. Who wouldve guessed?

Aaaaand then JC totally ruining my self esteem made me feel content.

Why keep settling?

Why settle?

I just knew there were people out there who would value me and treat me with genuine respect.

I set standards and ended up finding someone great.

It feels nice.

[yaminerua]

Dad is yelling at me because I can't find the files and emails in his mess of disorganisation that he needs in order to prove that the guy who screwed him over (the latest in a long line....) is breaching the contracts or whatever

Unsurprisingly it means he's probably for, what, the 6 th year now going to make no money on these wild goose chase business deals he keeps pointlessly pursuing... It's been years and he hasn't made a bloody penny but he keeps trying because he's so certain this time, This Time will be Different and he'll magically make millions..... He won't listen to anyone, not even people qualified to tell him he's being stupid. He's too desperate to just keep going until he fucking idk... Dies of exhaustion in the pursuit of this money he keeps dreaming he'll make...

It's.. So tiring and exhausting and I wish he could just give up on the big goals and try to get a smaller more reliable job. Because doing a fuckton of work and not getting paid for any of it, and not having any of your deals come off is really.. Not working...

I'm tired and upset because none of this is something I've done to deserve getting yelled at like this as if the fact these files have vanished into his disorganised ‘'file system “ is somehow my fault.... I've tried to offer sitting down to organise it but he insists on keeping it as it is and gets angry at even the offer to organise things into clear folders..

I keep hoping he'll somehow get lucky and be able to make money and stop getting so stressed and that things will finally start looking up but nothing changes. Ever. When will this stop.... It's been the same for years and I just..

I'm so tired of lawyers and deals and people going behind other people's backs and fucking shit up. That kind of shit has been a part of my life since even longer ago and I'm so... So fed up with everything......... I literally just.... Can't go another year of this.....

[defunctblogtobedeleted]

8/9/19 12:34 AM the super update. aka get your shit together Endgame post 1/?

Well. Here I am. It’s hard to even approach this post, to be honest. I’ve been procrastinating for so long. So long that it’s actually the last real thing I have left on my to do list.

Check this out.

I’ve been working hard at doing things lately. And catching up with you is basically the last thing left to do.

I finally spring cleaned all of my clothes and got rid of a ton of stuff that didn’t fit one way or another. 

I started playing guitar again.

I got my shit together with my job, got a bunch of online credits that I’d been procrastinating on. Started doing all the possible work I could every night to make my boss happy and it’s been making me a fuckton more money tbh. 

I’ve bought a bunch of cool shit, and been treating myself right with my food. I gained a bunch of weight back during the past year during my relationship with Andi. It’s not a terrible thing, I was treating myself. She convinced me that I deserved to treat myself and enjoy myself and that’s not a bad thing. But now I’m doing what I call Keto+, which is Keto+Beer lmfao.

I’m still going out drinking whenever I want, but for my meals I’ve stopped eating breads and rice and pasta, mostly just eating chipotle (just graduated to doing salads instead of bowls with light rice, though I wasn’t eating the rice just a bite here and there), sashimi from Hmart, lately once in a while a five guys lettuce wrap burger, back to doing salami and mozzarella at home. 

I’ve taken to fasting once a week on my thursday night shift (tonight), to try to accelerate the weight loss, but it’s not like my pov diets before because I’m still eating nuts.

It’s been a progression of increasing the amount I’ve been running (from one day to two days, to usually two maybe three days a week now, and the distance is a lot longer now), and cutting off more and more little cheats. E.g. the biggest was finally embracing sparkling waters instead of gatorade. I finally got to try Spindrift off a recommendation from a magic the gathering podcast, and it’s incredible. Only like 3 calories a can and it actually tastes good from the real juice and not bitter in the aftertaste. 

But anyway, I’ve got plenty of money now. My debts are paid, I’m ahead on bills, I’ve got all the sweet clothes I wanted, so I finally made the call last week.

It’s time to fix my car’s bumper. I’ll try to remember to get one last picture of lexi before I fix her broken front tooth.

Do you know what that means?

It’s the Endgame.

The Get Your Shit Together List I put together years ago... well let’s take a look at what’s left of it. The sad thing about digital to do lists is you don’t see the progression though. Wish I knew what was on there. I think a lot of it was losing weight, but I skipped the whole being healthy part before.

God damn, man.

Doc last edited Oct 2, 2018. I guess I started writing this plan out Jan 2017. I think my biggest priorities then were to cut down spending and pay off my debts. 

I never started exfoliating lol. I wonder if I should do that for my nose.

I didn’t give ashleigh her plane credit part because fuckit. I did end up using mine though, to take that trip to Hawaii to visit John. Pretty fucking baller. I guess that was another big step towards getting my shit together, too.

Quit melee, but now I’ve been playing again playing jigglypuff just to hang out with my roommates. It’s really neat not grinding falco, even though I lose a lot the game’s a lot more fun again.

OH MY GOD THOSE BLUE STORAGE CUBES. When I fucking talked about spring cleaning clothes? THATS what I meant. I’ve literally had this shit on my to do list for two YEARS hahahahah. About goddamn time. Holy fuck.

Got my deviated septum fixed, didn’t cost nearly that much thank the lawd.

Just went to the dentist, my teeth are doing great. Ironically they mentioned that I need to consider replacing one of the fillings that I mention getting here eventually. 

I did finally get a new laptop and backup the old one, uploaded that info to throw it out about two weeks ago. 

Actually got sweet ass new shoes booya checkem

I’m not vaping anymore, the whole juul pod fad never hit me. I’m doing cigarettes still, for better or for worse. Lol. I’ll take the cancer I know over the one I don’t.

But it’s better than I was when I was writing this list, I used to have to smoke one every single day after work. Maybe that was because I was hungry, but it was always this poignant craving on the back porch that I remember. Now I just like smoking when I drink mostly, but have the occasional one to chat with people or whatever.

Playing guitar again, not frequently, might start at work more since I’m playing the electric since I don’t have an acoustic available. Maybe I’ll even learn these songs. Playing guitar is great though, I kinda wanna be in a band sometime. That’d be fucking neat. Someone invited me to sing for his drunkenly at karaoke lol I should hit him up it’s been a minute. 

Got my nintendo switch, which I think was so far out of consideration that I deleted it from the fun stuff section. 

Who’d have thought I’d ACTUALLY start running and drinking water more. I guess I’m the greatest lmao.

Yeah man, like 15 pounds over the past 2 months. I think a lot of it was easy food weight, but it’s felt really rewarding all the same. Gotta keep it up, this 175 hurdle has been a tough nut to crack, but I’m gonna be really proud of myself once I get into the 160s territory again. I’m doing pullups slightly more, maybe I need to do the whole situps-pushups-pullups regimen right before/after running to really push it. Idk, i’m just glad i’m being good about it.

I’m even flossing once a week now.

Things are really shaping up. 

But with money in my bank account there are three options that I have.

1. Save it by buying stocks

2. Blow it by buying a bunch of dumb shit

3. Finish off the to do list and actually get my bumper fixed.

I wanted to ignore 3 because it feels like a dumb expense for a minor aesthetic, but I guess in view of all these things I’ve accomplished it really does mean quite a bit more than that. So I made a claim on a ding on the side of my car and I’m gonna see if I can get it all fixed up. I’ve actually taken on a few extra days of work lately and made even MORE extra money, so I don’t think it should knock me back financially at all. Which means that it’s time. 

I’m finally doing it.

It feels really cool. I’m a little bit anxious about it in the sense that it’s gonna be annoying if they deny me getting the bumper fixed because of the collision damage that I never reported. But whatever we’ll cross that bridge in a few weeks when I get the damage inspected and see what happens.

This has been my brag post. Hope you were able to tolerate it all. But that’s only the first phase of catching up. It’s only been a half hour of writing! I’ve got a lot of time left at work tonight and I might even spend a lot of this weekend at Darlin’s catching up if I have to. Catching up with this blog is as big a part of getting my shit together as scheduling my appointment with the car insurance was.

So what I mean to say is we’re gonna catch all the way through my greensboro days up to now. I have some saucy tales and some not-so-saucy ones. I’ve got a full relationship to blab about, and honestly one thing that I had promised her and was on a bunch of my old to do lists was to do like a whole pro-con listing about her persona, which felt weird and I kept procrastinating on but god dammit I’m gonna get everything off my to do lists. 

So I looked back a little and it looks like the last posts I made were about sally, Becky,  whatever the hell my dealings with Taylor were, and the beginnings of Mary. Which means that we’re gonna flesh out Mary, and then you’ve got Sophie, Rachel, Olivia, Andi, Jennifer, Heather, and Jill to look forward to.  Whew baby.

[rachello344]

ace-of-twos:  last night you reblogged a thing and one of the options was “tell me a story that happened to you”. i’m sorry this took so long to type. but here it is. i hope you enjoy reading it. sorry it’s a mess. 

… [Rachello344: I’m adding a readmore because damn is this a helluva story, but it is also quite long XD]

first thing you gotta know is that like any set of best friends, lex and i make terrible decisions. this includes deciding to go to the fair last minute which, yes, may sound like a great idea, but just wait for it. the second thing you gotta know is there are going to be a fuckton of asides in this story bc the entire day was a magical and incoherent wreck. 

there’s a fair that comes into town twice a year. i don’t usually go bc it’s hot and loud and god there are so many people. but lex convinces me and we go.

our first mistake: we arrived as it opened, at 1pm. 

our second mistake: from arrival to departure, we did not leave the fairgrounds. 

our third mistake: we stayed until approximately 8:30pm. 

keep in mind that those numbers, first and second and third, only really apply to that particular list. many mistakes were made that day. most, but not all, were made by us. it was terrible but also mostly hilarious. 

so, to get into the fair and actually get to the rides, you have to walk through a long kinda psuedo hallway filled with carnival games. giant prizes are hanging from the ceiling. one of these prizes is a dragon. it’s fucking adorable as shit. keep this in mind. it’s important. 

at about 2pm, both of us high on adrenaline, we decide to ride the tilt-a-whirl. i have never properly been on a tilt-a-whirl so a number of things happen in rapid succession. lex scares the shit out of me by making the carriage spin super fucking fast. (i thought you were just supposed to sit there and let the momentum spin you around. oh, how wrong i was.) i discover that i fucking love the tilt-a-whirl. i demand we ride it again. we get in line. when we get back to the ticket gate, the person managing the ride tells us that we’ll have to take another person in the carriage with us. this is fine until it’s revealed that this other person is a 10yro girl. 

lemme describe this girl for you: big, trusting eyes; dark skin; the sweetest smile; chocolate colored hair in a neat bob; matching shorts and top. basically she’s the most adorable small child i’ve ever seen. 

lex and i are 100% planning to spin the ride out of control. 

i am slightly worried for this child. maybe we shouldn’t do this. i really don’t want her to throw up, specifically on either lex or i bc we are idiots who live far away from the fair and yet brought no spare clothing despite the fact that fairs are messy places. to be fair, i also just really don’t want her to have a terrible time. but mostly the throwing up would be a downer. 

we spin the ride. 

for two seconds, i watch the small child with concern. and then she screams, the delighted kind, and i help lex turn the carriage into a poorly maintained and probably dangerous metal tornado. 

(s'all good, no one’s died at the fair in… years, probably. idk.) 

i’m pretty sure we made that kid’s day. we also probably made her parents want to kill us bc we definitely turned her into an adrenaline junkie. 

moving on. there’s a swing ride called the yo-yo. (yes, it’s exactly as terrifying as it sounds. the only ride that scares me more is the zipper.) lex initially doesn’t want to go on it bc tbh it’s a wee bit rundown. it’s an old fair, everything is a little broken, but this ride is like scarily old. but then she remembers some of the nostalgia or smth and we get in line. 

all the swings are individual seats, one in front of the other, around a thing that spins. a major fucking asshole sits in front of lex. 

i’m already scared out of my mind, no matter how fucking safe they claim to be those things do NOT feel secure, and then this guy? he starts swinging back and forth, trying to hit his girlfriend that’s sitting in front of him. he hits lex multiple times in the process. i was so close to strangling him but i really didn’t want to be arrested for murder and ruin an otherwise good day so i moved on. 

(also he and his gf spent the entire time before the ride got started making out????? like wow. can there be a limit on pda? like please? chill out.) 

you remember that dragon from earlier? let’s get back to it. 

okay, actually, one more aside. it’s time for lunch. lex and i have realized too late that fair food is fucking expensive. we spent all our money getting day passes so we could ride every single ride available to us. lex is a bottomless pit and i don’t eat much, but even i’m hungry. 

we do the obvious thing and beg my dad to drive out to the fair and give us money for food.

(yes, we had passes. this means we could’ve left and come back. no, we did not do that. in our defense, going home would’ve taken like an hour and then add in food prep time and actually eating it and then coming back? yeah, no. fair only comes once a year. it’s ride or die.) 

my dad gives us way too much money. yep, his mistake. like. giving a large amount of cash to teens wandering around a fair? not smart. 

despite the fact that we were both starving, it’s also fucking boiling out. we aren’t as hungry as we think we are. so we split a poutine and still have a ridiculous amount of money left. 

back to the dragon. 

we’d gone up to one of the stalls before and asked what we had to do to win one. the lady is old and kinda grumpy, probs not super happy about working around screaming kids, so instead of telling us how many balloons we had to pop to get a dragon (the information we were looking for) she tells us how much money to just straight up buy it. 

i’m hard of hearing and have problems processing auditory input so i do not hear what the price is. this is before lunch and i have fourteen dollars. 

she walks over while we’re trying to count out how much change i have and then shakes her head. she did not say fourteen dollars. she said forty. anxiety kicks in and it’s suddenly the worst moment of my life. 

after lunch, we have forty dollars leftover. we march up to the lady and i would love to say we shoved forty dollars in her face but we did not. we crouched over her counter for about ten minutes trying to figure out what combination of change equaled forty dollars. then i awkwardly poured it into her hand. 

she’s going to just give us the dragon but apparently she has to keep up the ruse bc she drops a handful of darts on the counter. we have eight darts between us and we have paid forty dollars. all i want is the dragon. 

we each throw four darts. it’s horribly sad to pay forty dollars and get a measly eight darts. but hey, the economy is shit. we are also shit. as in, we are awful shots. i think we managed to pop a total of three balloons. it’s far more likely that we only popped two. 

i tell myself that we aren’t paying for the darts, we’re paying for a dragon. 

the lady hands us a dragon. i forget that anything bad has ever happened to me in my life. i am so fucking overjoyed to have a dragon. like damn. 

the rest of this story happens much, much later. 

it’s about 7pm. lex and i have decided to go on one last ride and then leave. we’re both wearing shorts, have no jackets, and it’s getting cold out. so we get in line for the himalaya. 

(to explain, it’s kinda like a roller coaster but it only goes around a little circular track. they play really, really loud music the entire time the ride is going. it’s awful and amazing. esp bc they play weird shit like gangam style and old justin beiber songs. it’s weird. the ride spins forward for half a song and then backwards for the last half. there’s usually a guy standing by to make sure that everything runs smoothly but he also has another purpose. he sits there with his hands out and high fives as many people as he can. it’s amazing but as the lighter person i’m never on the outer edge so i can almost never reach him and it’s upsetting.) 

we’re waiting in line for the himalaya. we’re both tired. we’ve been here for six hours. both quiet. and then lex screams. 

she’s seen our friend chris on the ride. we did not know chris was there, had no plans to meet up with him. and chris is kind of awesome and bubbly and just all around a pretty cool dude. we both love him. 

so clearly, we spend the next couple of minutes making funny faces at chris every time the ride brings him closer to us. it’s what friends do. 

when chris gets off the ride, he’s here with some other people that we barely know but that isn’t important, we make plans to ride the himalaya together as our final ride. lex and i get on the ride and we’ll meet up later. 

(before then, we also persuade him to ride the tilt-a-whirl with us and scare the shit out of him by spinning it as hard as we can. there’s videos of him just screaming. it’s pretty great.) 

then it’s the last ride of the night. the himalaya. 

we all get in line. 

after such a good day, something just had to go wrong. 

we’re getting pretty close to the start of the line and there’s a pretty decent gap in the line bc it’s late and everyone’s lazy so lines tend to be disorganized. a group of teens is kinda chilling next to the line and they do the unthinkable. they attempt to slide into the line just ahead of us. 

this brings us to the part of the story where chris almost gets in a fight. 

chris may be an airhead but he absolutely will not stand for shit like that so he just holds his arm out in front of him like a shield and tells them to go to the back of the line. the teens do not take this super well. 

incorrigible as ever, they still jump the line but this time they end up just behind us in the line. everything is fine. and then the ‘leader’ starts talking shit at chris, backed up by his boys. 

(i should mention that chris is trans, pre-t, and fucking tiny. he also lacks comon sense. for all that he may be like three years older than me, he will always be my little brother.) 

so when the leader says, “if you ever fucking touch me again, i’ll grope your ass,” we all get a little defensive. also bc the guy’s a dick. 

there’s two kids in line behind us and in front of them. lex has noticed them, i did not. they’re middle schoolers. clearly. they’re full of energy, dancing and dabbing and just generally being walking, talking memes. lex is also a memelord. these are her people. so she turns to them and asks them to annoy the shit outta the guys behind them. 

being annoying middle schoolers who love chaos, they comply. 

at some point they ask us how old we all are. now, remember how i said chris is fucking tiny? he tells them he’s 21 and they don’t believe it. and of course, i’m 19 but i look 12 so they don’t believe me either. 

chris and i are both fucking extra so we dig out our wallets to present our id cards to these kids. and my wallet is a wee bit of a disaster. i’m also clumsy. so when i try to get it back in the bag, it doesn’t end well. i decide to just carry it with me on the ride and it’s all going great until i trip. all the cards spill out. 

now there’s this guy and i’ve seen him on several rides. he’s wearing sunglasses and a frown. i have not seen him smile all day. he also keeps texting during rides with is baffling to me. ENJOY THE DAMN RIDE. 

just giving you context so he’s clearly established as a douche. 

i trip right next to his car. as i’m struggling to pick up the contents of my wallet, he turns to me and says, “how many fucking cards do you need?" 

i’m not proud, but here’s my response: "how many fucking cards does your mom need?!” then i walked away. and keep in mind that half of my cards are still on the floor as i make my exit. (luckily lex grabbed them.) 

with that nonsense over, we attempt to get on the ride. 

now, i’m a fucking twig with legs and i’ve already said that chris is tiny. we figure that all of us will fit in the one car. we have forgotten to factor in lex’s fucking gigantic hips. she cannot fit in the car with us. so she gets out and looks around and spots them. 

the middle schoolers, they’re sitting behind us. 

lex approaches their car and says, i kid you not, “move fuckers, i’m getting in.” respectful of their meme elder, they allow this. 

we figure that’s enough adventure for one day so lex and i start to leave the fair. it’s been a long day. we are very tired. i say, wistfully, “damn, we should’ve gotten a picture with the meme children.” lex and i turn to each other, communicating non-verbally, and simultaneously turn to head back into the fairgrounds. 

and that’s the story of how i ended up following two children on instagram. 

[crystalelemental]

Atelier Shallie Plus Opinions

Anyone paying attention to the overall rankings, and more importantly paid attention to each of the other run-downs, has noticed I am a Dusk Trilogy fanboy in the extreme.  The series has had such a wonderful shift in art direction, and the emphasis on the environmental impact and history for the setting has been nothing short of divine.  The series also boasts some of the best casts of characters, and have changed the battle and alchemy systems to be far more engaging.  And yet, Shallie is among my least-favorites in the series.  It's still an excellent game, like all Atelier games, but it ranks near the bottom for a single reason: disappointment.  For all the excellent buildup of this trilogy has to offer, boy is the conclusion just...among the worst this trilogy could've had.

CHARACTERS On the whole, I think the characters of Shallie are good.  I wouldn't necessarily say that they're on par with the previous Dusk games, but they're still solid, and the returning characters are, once again, some of the best possible picks.

Shallistera - The better Shallie, I say.  She's your more down-to-earth character, whose village is suffering from the water drying up.  She comes to Stellard to find a way to save her village.  She's definitely the more serious of the two, but she has some charming quirks as well.

Shallotte - Shallotte is the goofier of the two, and is high energy and kind of a dunce.  I'm reminded slightly of Rorona, just in terms of those qualities.  She works out as a character, and has her own thing going on with her sick mother.  I just have a preference for mostly serious with quirks over quirk master supreme only calm in certain situations.

Kortes - I was on board for Kortes initially.  But he's an idiot.  His general stance is that, after being in the city and learning other customs, some of the things the village does seem odd or unnecessary to him.   It's fine as a character, but the reason I don't like him is one scene with Wilbell, in which she mentions spirits, and he's like "Yeah, too bad those aren't real."  Like...Kortes, buddy...we have fought spirits. Constantly.  What are you talking about?  I just hate that character in high-fantasy that's "science-minded" but rejects easily observable facts because they wouldn't exist in our reality.  That's not how science works, asshole.

Jurie - Jurie is a treasure hunter who is out to make a lot of money, mostly for her younger sister.  Jurie is also quite the writer, apparently, and uses her adventures to create stories for others about them.

Miruca - Miruca is Jurie's younger sister, and the best girl of this game.   Miruca is flat-affect and very direct with her thoughts, particularly in regards to Central. She hated it there.  Education in Central seems to be based largely on connection and conformity rather than development of new ideas or creativity, and as a result she never really fit in and was bullied by many in the program. Central itself is thus something she hates for their philosophy on how things should work, and with good reason.  Miruca's storyline is also one of the reasons I came away not liking Shallotte that much.  Miruca clearly disdains Central and what it's like there, and Shallotte spends most scenes with her talking about how great Central is and how Miruca's dream was once to go there to become a great alchemist.  I know Shallotte's all about quirk and being gung-ho, but she kinda comes across as the type who is energetic to the point she's oblivious to the feelings of others, and that is something I really don't like.  Not to mention, it’s one thing to support your friend’s dreams, and entirely another to ignore their very clear current stance and change in life goals to keep prattling on about what they wanted to do in the past.

Wilbell - Return of the best witch.  Wilbell gets a lot in this.  She has a vulnerable moment with her attempts at contracting with the Lord of Water, takes on Shallotte as an apprentice to help in what way she can, and is finally accepted as a proper witch by her great grandmother.  It's a nice resolution for her character all-around.

Homura - Homura is a homunculus.  Homura, unlike the other homunculi, has a taste for adventure and a desire to be a great treasure hunter, instead of being...more of a follower.  When it comes to his attention that homunculi are all man-made, the little guy has a crisis of identity, and has a really striking scene with Solle and the Shallies about whether his quirks are because he was made that way, or if there's something unique to him as an individual.  Honestly, he's the most emotionally significant character in the crew, I feel.  I guess the name "Homura" is one just destined to be associated with emotional devastation.

Solle - Solle comes back, and continues to be his deadpan snarker self.  I love this guy.  He's actually playable this time, and apparently his attacks are based on using the Homunculi.  Which is neat.  Most of his best moments are in him becoming more like Marion with his disdain for protocol, and his interactions with Homura which are really sweet.

Escha - Alchemist return #1.  Escha continues to be bubbly and fun, and is just great to have around.  There isn't a whole lot of development for her character, unfortunately.  She's just here to help out Solle as he establishes the new branch in this town, and to bring the seed entrusted to her by Flameu, as Flameu has stated this is where the seed should go.  Mysterious.

Logy - Similarly, he doesn't get a lot of development, he's just around to help out Solle.  I really have nothing significant to comment on, though I hear he's really good in combat.

Ayesha - BEST ALCHEMIST RETURNS!  Ayesha comes back, and is as delightful as ever.  My only real complaint is that, given her actions before she's officially added and the fact that her ultimate attack is effectively summoning the Yggdrasil monster she defeated, I had hoped this meant she took over the powers of Yggdrasil as sort of a manager of the cradle of life.  She did not. She's just eccentric.  Which still works, but you know.  Mild letdown.

Keithgriff - He's not as critical as he was in Ayesha, unfortunately, and is part of the reason the ending is so dull.  He really just doesn't shine like in Ayesha, where his role was more solidified and significant.  Here, they kinda just use his character in the same role, but with no real deviations.  He just shows the Shallies the dark past of alchemy and already seems to know everything, even though the emphasis on finding a solution to the Dusk should mean he’s roughly as clueless as the others.  It was nice to see the scenes of how he's responding to traveling with Ayesha, and how he's changing the things he smokes to maintain good health like Ayesha wants.  The game kinda implies a romance thing at one point, which I'm not a fan of, but the scenes are sweet.

Odelia - Actual best girl.  She's back, and as wonderful as ever.  She's just not playable, which is a sin.  She gets one scene with Homura that's pretty good, as both of them have a moment about being man-made entities.  But really, Odelia stands out in comedy.  Her role in the sweets-eating contest as the eater of the sweets is great, and her shooting down Albert is just about the best thing.

Raoul - This guy is the head of the organization that manages the lower classes, essentially.  He's a bit rough around the edges, but cares deeply for the town, and feels the government is only looking out for the wealthy while the poor immigrants from villages where water is disappearing are left to fend for themselves.  He attempts to create order by establishing a system where people can find work through him to manage their needs.  He's pretty swell, and works with Solle and Central to ensure things are going well in the city.

Perriend - By comparison, the guy in charge of the government cares significantly for the city's autonomy, and refuses to cooperate with Central.  He's not a bad person, he just feels very strongly that sacrifices need to be made for the common good, and sometimes those sacrifices mean that not everyone is happy.  He can come off as really abrasive, way more so than Raoul, but he does care for the city itself.  I'm not a fan of his.

Linca - A different one this time.  We meet Linca Seven, whereas the one with Marion is Linca Eight.  This Linca works as a secretary for Perriend, and in terms of personality, is fairly similar to Linca 8, if a bit more serious and better at paperwork.

Nady - Shallotte's mom.  She's apparently the former secretary of Perriend, and generally sweet.  She's just also apparently really bad with money.  She spends a virtual fuckton on literal garbage that Katla sells, making Katla look awful and Nady look like an idiot.  She's cute, but eh.

Albert - This guy is a robot-fucker with excellent taste.  He gets a look at Odelia, is instantly smitten, and starts collecting automatons to figure out how they work. He's a complete doofus who doesn't do his job, but gets away with things by being the rich son of Perriend.  As a result, I am not the biggest fan of this guy, but boy does he have good taste in robots.

Teo - The older one from Shallistera's village.  He's an occasionally helpful source of knowledge for some of the major events around town when you're looking for alchemy information, but otherwise doesn't do a whole lot.  He does call Kortes out on being a know-it-all who doesn't know anything at one point, which I adored.  But otherwise, kinda forgettable.

Rosemia - If ever there were a time I was disappointed in not having DLC for a new playable shopkeep character, it is now.  Rosemia is awesome.  She’s a former witch who was shunned largely by society, but found love with a man who cared for her despite her status as a witch.  Unfortunately, he was a sea-faring man and wound up dying at sea, leaving her alone.  She continues to travel, scavenging items from the dead to sell off.  I really wish she was a playable character...

Katla - Oh, and Katla’s here.  Hooray.

STORY Let's first review the past two games.  In Ayesha, the background setting is all about the Dusk, and how humans used alchemy for bad purposes that messed up the world really badly.  The devastation was so significant that oceans dried up, and the beings that were created with alchemy were let loose in the collapse of civilization, with the slags running haywire more as weapons than entities for work.  The devastation was so extreme that locations like the Zweiteturm and the Cradle of Life were established to re-build the entirety of society and the world's ecosystem if they couldn't turn things around.  It establishes the problem of the Dusk as something that has a global impact, and introduces the idea that there's a cyclic problem that people just have to endure.

In Escha and Logy, the problem is further explored as we learn that humans banded together to confront the threat, but ultimately came up short-handed. Even with the establishment of Geosis and its centuries-long study of the environmental impact the Dusk had, they still came up with little more than a single seed that offers a presumably temporary solution to an environmental problem.  We're also given more indication that the Dusk may have been a human-created problem, and that the suggestion for certain farming techniques from Flameu may have caused problems for the soil's ability to sustain production until it all collapsed.  It introduces a somewhat alternative theory for how humans responded to the crisis, but even with the implication that civilizations worked together, they still all died out and were unable to sufficiently fix the problem the world faced.

In Atelier Shallie, the basic plot concept was bringing in a resolution and solution to the problem of the Dusk.  Already, I hope what you see wrong.  "Solution." This should have been a band-aid at best; something that allows humans to consistently survive the Dusk, but not fix it.   But it's super fixable in ways it should not be.  You see, apparently the cause of the Dusk here is that a machine made ages ago for water purification broke down, and is now taking in a bunch of drinking water, failing to purify it, and instead spitting out contaminated water, which removes the water supply from the world.  This is the Dusk.  Now, it fits with "humans did this to themselves," but if it's a broken down machine, how exactly is this a re-occurring cycle?  But to make matters worse, when you defeat the administrator of this facility, the machine turns off then back on again, and Keith just adjusts the intake a bit and the problem is immediately solved. They talk about "oh, not everything will go back to normal right away," but there's drinking water in the smaller villages again, so problem is literally solved entirely, with no adverse effects.  It's too clean, and conflicts with so much we know about the Dusk.  You really mean to tell me the ancient civilization was so incapable of figuring out the most basic of technology rules to turn it off and on again that they all died from it?  You really mean to tell me that a machine breaking down was the cause of them building an entire facility to store all knowledge, another to preserve all life, and a third to study the phenomenon and develop countermeasures?  No one saw the water drying up and went "Hey, maybe we should check the machine that monitors this stuff?"  None of it fits with the elements that have come before, and considering we've spent so much time expressing that the ancient civilization was far more technologically advanced than the current era, there's no excuse for the problem to just be a faulty machine.

Then there's the issue of the Lord of Water, whose memories showcase that humans were in fact at war with each other as part of the reason she's so pissed about things.  But that directly conflicts with Threia's findings, so either war happened prior to the Dusk and humans banded together to confront a larger problem after their own conflicts, or this game just forgot about that tidbit and did whatever it wanted.  Personally, I kinda wonder if it's the latter, though I'm accepting the former.  There are just pieces that do not tie together well, and considering how well Escha & Logy fit together with Ayesha despite having almost no connections in geography or characters, this is a little sad.

SETTING I feel like the discussion above is sufficient.  The locations in this area are all drying up from the Dusk, and it all feels very connected to the rest of the trilogy up until they make the reveal of the answer.   It really just knocks both the story and the setting components flat on their ass, and turns something with an incredible amount of potential into a massive disappointment.

ALCHEMY SYSTEM There have been changes.  Many changes.  For instance, quality goes up to 999.  There's also a chaining process, where you can put skills on materials. Some skills are one slot, some are two, and materials all have different amounts of slots, up to 4 at a time.  Your goal now is to improve materials to apply traits, and if you use the same element skills in a row on items that share that elemental trait, your chain bonus goes up, and this is entirely irrelevant barring Chain Attribute and Chain Effect, both of which are Earth skills.  Earth and Wind skills are the only ones that can chain up to 9999 chain value, and if this is done, Chain Effect will bring your final product up to effect 999.   It's honestly a little roundabout, and while I don't inherently dislike it, it doesn't feel as organic as Escha & Logy's system did.  This game also does a super cool thing where a lot of optimal effects exist as the middle value, rather than the highest, so a lot of times your attribute-increasing skills aren't that necessary, so Fire and Water are barely ever used late-game.  It just feels like an incredibly wasted aspect of the game when half your skills are never used, and the remainder are used almost exclusively to build up the Chain gauge without any regard to their effect.

Synthesis level has also been upgraded to 99, which is way higher than 50.  So high that it's honestly hard to reach.  You definitely want to, as you get more Cost involved for being higher level, which reduces the number of needed Water skills, which is great because now you can get back to just spamming Earth or Wind skills like you ought to be.  The best way is to just gather a ton of Clay and Junk, and just synthesize 200 Brother Call items.  It's a little slow, but manageable.

Ultimately though, I think it's an interesting idea that didn't play out too well. Synthesis is fun for most of the game, as it always is, but the conclusion kinda falls flat as everything becomes about optimizing quality by chaining skills. Because skills don't matter anymore beyond just keeping the same element going and ending with Chain Effect, your skills just feel irrelevant and the whole system becomes less complex.   It would have made chaining to maximum easier, but I almost wish chain just built solely through matching an element skill to an element the material had.  That way, you can apply a bunch of different traits as needed, while still getting a good chain together.  Instead, it spends a majority of the game allowing for a bunch of traits as needed, but ends with "Just chain what you need and be done with it."

BATTLE SYSTEM Damage is really high in this game.  HP values are also really high.  Moreso than any other game, I think.  I really don't know how I feel about it. The result is that you spend a lot of time just trying to implement a system where your characters will instantly get to do follow up attacks, because that's the basis of all damage.  Equipment is significant, and you maintain the equip items from Escha and Logy, though items are apparently very nerfed from Escha & Logy, and the alchemists play a support and healing role more than anything.  Which is odd.   Shallistera's ability lets her duplicate items, which is completely worthless in this kind of setup where you equip items and they re-stock when you return to town.  Shallotte's ability is to mix two items together to have effects, and I hear it's really good, but the damage options I worked with don't seem to be even remotely on par with the damage output of follow-up attacks.  The combat isn't bad.  It is a lot more difficult in the early-game, I feel, but very simple with late-game equipment, considering I beat the DLC boss on accident.

Fortunately, equipment continues the way it did in Escha & Logy, allowing you to use previous phases of equipment to transfer up.  The difference is, you may want to use smaller items at some point, because a weaker item may get more skill slots, which is way more vital than anything else.   Nothing matters like the ability to chain skills.  Sadly.

In actual combat, there's a new Break mechanic.  If you keep up the offense, enemies will reach a "Break" state, where they lose their turn and cannot act. This is a valuable mechanic, in that relentless offense can cause enemies to lose turns, but your characters also suffer from it.  It's not a bad inclusion, I just am not its biggest fan.  I'd rather we play combat as simple as possible, and this extra layer feels wholly unnecessary.

Then there's your Burst Gauge.   Not gonna lie, I don't even understand all the mechanics of this.  When you attack or use skills, your burst gauge goes up. When it reaches 100% or more, you enter the burst state.  During this time, you can gain a boost to damage output, and even more depending on the skills on your weapon.  The damage can be as significant as like 5-10x damage from the non-burst state.  It also allows you to perform consistent chain attacks.  Outside of burst, you can get one follow-up.  In Burst, you can get all three reserve characters, but I guess you need all three of your front-line fighters alive to use all three back-row members?  Which is honestly a stupid limitation.  If you activate the burst under certain, very mysterious conditions, you can activate field effects based on your back row units.  Some will allow for HP regen, some increase damage output, etc.  They all have different effects, and it can be really helpful, I just have no idea what the rules are for activation, if I'm being entirely honest.  Sometimes I can enter burst state right away in a match and get three field effects automatically, and other times it takes the entire match to get there and I only get one.  I couldn't find an indication of where on the battle screen this information was, either.  Some may say I should've paid more attention during the tutorial piece.  I, however, say that this is an unnecessary layer of complexity.

OTHER MECHANICS When I started this game, I was convinced it would be the best, because there was no time limit anymore.  This is fantastic, and definitely great to make sure you have time to make all the items and catch all events, even in one playthrough.  However, this game attempts to keep some sort of fire lit by introducing motivation.  When you complete life tasks (which is your indirect way of having ideas of what to work on), your motivation goes up, which in turns allows you to move faster on the map and gather more materials.  However, if you putz around and don't accomplish things, motivation goes down, and you move slower and get fewer materials at gathering points.  It's...honestly just a frustrating and irrelevant system, I think.  I have all the time in the world and can gather as much as I want, you're just slowing down the process for the sake of trying to keep things moving.  It's not a terrible idea, but I don't think it was implemented very effectively.

There's also the weather patterns.  Certain environmental conditions will result in more or less of enemies or materials in certain areas.  Again, it's an interesting idea, but it ultimately doesn't really change a whole lot.  Reduced material gathering just becomes frustrating, while increased gathering is just great to unlock a lot of extra life tasks.   More or less enemies is also irrelevant because...well...

Experience gained in this game is meaningless from battle.  You will almost always be gaining shit for XP, and the real benefit is from the bonuses for completed life events.  When you complete most of the goals around synthesizing specific items, you can get around 2500 XP.  This can happen incredibly early in the game, resulting in a weird difficulty curve where the game is incredibly hard at the outset due to low XP, then incredibly easy mid-game when you can make better equipment and are like 25 levels above the enemies in the areas, followed by it getting really difficult again late-game as levels even out and you struggle to get the best equipment traits.  I really am not a big fan of how the experience system works in this game at all.  I guess the idea is, again, to keep that fire lit under your ass so you work hard at accomplishing tasks, but it's just a really awkward way to handle combat.

There is, however, one mechanic that I absolutely adore: skill points.  When you hit level 40, you start gaining one skill point every level.  Points are allocated to different skills for your character, such as improving their special attacks, or increasing stats.  I am all about skill points, so I absolutely adore this system's inclusion...I just don't think it's all that interesting in how it's handled.  Every character is essentially a carbon copy.  You have the skill to increase attack, defense, speed, all stats, crit rate, crit damage, and the few to improve attacks to different forms.   There isn't a whole ton of variance between them.  I think one character (Escha, I think?) got two copies of boost all stats, which is great, and Ayesha got something to reduce the amount of break gauge damage you take. There's just not enough differentiation for my taste.  I know that's kind of asking a lot, but that's the entire point of a skill point system; hyper-customization of characters.  Having everything be so similar feels like it invalidates a lot of the purpose of such a system.  The increase in stat points especially could just as easily be done through increasing the amount you gain at level ups.  It's also hard to truly appreciate when you carry over accumulated skill points to NG+, so at the end of your second playthrough getting to level 99 (which is really easy), you can max out all skills instantly upon reaching level 40, so there's nothing left to work for.  I do like the inclusion, and I hope they keep a similar system in upcoming games, but I would really like more specialization for characters, and for skill points to not carry over in NG+ so there's still something to work for.

ADDITIONAL COMMENTS Okay, remember in Escha and Logy, how the ultimate traits were found pretty much through luck in relic searches with a boost Relic rarity effect on and the Dowsing Rod improving traits?  Their solution to this was to instead make them based on random drops from boss enemies.  I hope you see the issue.  While Escha and Logy is a little stressful in that it's hard to actually know where to find things without incredible luck or fore-knowledge, Shallie's method is WAY more obnoxious to farm for.  Relics have all the properties, and with a quick building of the gauge and use of Dowsing rod, you get three searches in like 15 seconds. It's incredibly quick to get what you need.  When getting traits off of drops, though, it's completely random, there are like ten billion traits in the pool to choose from, and they seem to only show up consistently on higher difficulties. Add to it, the base game has the optimal farming option through the Silver Dragon, while in Shallie Plus there was a minor change that makes it so Silver Dragon doesn't drop anything of value, and you have to wait for it to transform into a way stronger version to drop anything worthwhile.  This creates a system where the best farming method for non-weapon traits (the first DLC boss drops two weapons, generally with excellent traits) takes a solid 5 minutes per run, with low trait drop chance, on a difficulty that may result in your death when you start out.  It's the first time that I've looked at what was happening in an Atelier game and said it wasn't fun, which was devastating.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS If I had to think of a word to describe the entirety of this game, it would be "Experimental."  Atelier Shallie introduces a ton of new mechanics, and while some are interesting in theory, very little feels like it's handled well in practice. I've cleared the game in its entirety, and I'm still not sure how some of the battle mechanics work. Alchemy, while different from previous games, seems to invalidate a lot of the creative process when all you ever do late-game is spam Wind or Earth skills to get chain effect maxed to then maximize the effect meter of your item, making it feel very mechanical and, honestly, not particularly fun. The story is a mess, and actively harms the setup from the previous two games that made this trilogy stand out so significantly from Arland's games.  The characters can be engaging and fun, and for the majority of the game things are generally great, but it really feels like the ending of the game dropped the ball for both itself and for the trilogy as a whole.

I made a mention back in the review of Rorona, that a game doesn't necessarily need a good, complex plot.  Something simple yet serviceable can be just as effective, if played correctly.  However, if you go for a plot, you really have to make it count, because nothing will hinder the impact of a game quite like having a plot that's either nonsense or just poorly constructed.  Atelier Shallie is the perfect example of this.  Between the poor conclusion for the trilogy and the game mechanics that are interesting but not implemented particularly well...it's hard to say Shallie shouldn't be the least favorite.  The only thing really saving it from being at the bottom is that Totori's problems feel so much more significant, and the fact that, until the last chapter, Shallie was doing extremely well.  By virtue of a strong and engaging beginning and middle, and the fact that I think there's a flat 0 in terms of really uncomfortable scenes, Shallie manages to barely outrank Totori on personal preference alone.

If you enjoyed this (for some reason), consider checking out the write-ups for the other games in the series as well!

Atelier Rorona Plus Atelier Totori Plus Atelier Meruru Plus Atelier Ayesha Plus Atelier Escha and Logy Plus Atelier Shallie Plus Atelier Sophie Atelier Firis

[myfuckofffundjourney]

Money Diary, Week 1

This will be long, and rambly! But it’s good to have it written down.

Tuesday, Jan 2

11 am: feeling like hell, go grab some over the counter decongestants. Pharmacist suggests a proper doctors visit. Make an appointment. 22nis

11:15: grab coffee at cafelix on the way to the bus. 11 nis

11:20: bus. 5.9 nis

12:00: pick up some doctor prescribed decongestants. 16nis.

14:30: bus home. 5.9 nis

14:45: crap. Can’t use transfer - buy another ticket. 5.9 nis

16:30: need water and snacks - 11 nis. I buy a glass bottle that I’ll reuse until I lose it or something. I had a reusable water bottle that i misplaced at a friends house. I keep reminding myself to go find it or buy a new one. That and a portable french press to-go mug, which is the best for my coffee addiction+constantly running around schedule.

22:00: Load my rav kav with 30 shekels. Home, grilled cheese and apple sandwich, TV, free yoga, bed. 30 nis.

107.7

Wednesday, Jan 3

11:00: Woke up feeling good! I planned my day out so that I did yoga, cleaned, and studied for two hours. Breakfast was a few pieces of peanut butter toast and a clementine. Now I need coffee and am out (used the last dregs for a sad cup this morning that just isn’t doing it) so I run out to grab some. 11 nis

14:30: I’m also out of toilet paper. On the way to get some, I drop off a sweater that needs to be dry cleaned. It was free so I don’t mind needing to dry clean it. Plus, its the best sweater ever. Grab a small package of toilet paper. In the future I will try to get to bulk stores and buy in bulk but for now, I’ll go with tiny 4-packs. Successfully restrain myself from buying a snack, telling myself I’m avoiding extra expenses and sugar. 5.5 nis

14:45: Heating up chicken soup for lunch. I see that my maple syrup has some weird blobs floating around in it which means some moths probably got inside. SO ANNOYED. I have more, and I probably didn’t even pay for this one, but it’s still an expensive food item I like having around and it sucks to waste it. Fuck you, moths. Eat my chicken soup, which is nearly finished (thankfully, it was getting a bit boring).

15:00: a friend is giving away a mattress, which I need. I just don’t know how i would get it to where I am, which is a studio sublet for the next 7 days, and where I’d put it after until I move into my new place. This is tricky.

22:00: The chair and mattress don’t work out, which sucks, because it could have saved me a lot of money. Oh well. I head to Jerusalem after class and get dinner with Shlomi. They end up giving us tons of free drinks because I used to work there. We split the bill. 88 nis.

104.5

Thursday Jan 4

10:00: coffee and a donut to nurse my hangover/sit and plan my day. I’m going to work somewhere that pays really well per hour, so things like a coffee in the morning feel less worrisome, as I need to be focused and Shlomi only has shit coffee at his place. A while after I leave, I realize that the guy forgot to ring up my donut, and make a mental note to remind him next time. 15 nis.

11:00: Take a taxi that I can bill to the client. I don’t in the end though. 30 nis.

18:00: Get paid! I worked really reallllllly slowly today so I end up charging them for an hour less. Still, I made 1200nis, and with reimbursements, it came to a nice 3170 nis. Wahoo!

18:30: Bus to meet friends for dinner. 5.9 nis.

20:00: Ugh. I told friends I’d take them to dinner as a thank you for a huge favor (that netted me a good amount of money a week ago). I put down 350 nis. 350 nis.

20:10: Train to the bus station because it is freezing and I’m tired. 5.9 nis.

21:00: Fill my Rav Kav. 100 nis.

22:00: grab chocolate and cream for my very necessary hot chocolate movie date night with myself. 18 nis.

524.8

Friday Jan 5

13:30: Head to a friend to cook and get ready for shabbat. He bought most of the food, which is nice for me. I pick up my sweater from the dry cleaners on the way to him. 30 nis.

13:45: Pick up necessary dinner items (I brought the rest from home) - noodles and nori. It costs 18 nis.

14:30: Meet up with a friend - I really want to get coffee or something but we just grab a package of cookies that I devour. 12 nis.

60

Saturday Jan 6

Money-free day! Woop woop.

Sunday Jan 7

In a fit of annoyance after waiting at the bank for WAY too long, I impulse buy a fuckton of cake. Whoops. 24 nis. But I made all my meals at home - including a truly vile peanut noodle stir fry that used up most of the veggies that were going off. It’s definitely not enough and I’ll probably get a snack later, but at least I ate my big meals (breakfast and dinner) at home.

20:00: buy some chocolate. I eat them and feel like shit in every part of my body. Dumb move. Ugh. 16 nis

40

Monday Jan 8

Morning coffe - 10 nis. After taking care of the bank (does depositing 5,000 nis into a deposit for an apartment count as spending money? Not sure…) I go to hand in receipts for an event  I did a few weeks ago - will hopefully get paid for it soon. I need to return wineglasses I borrowed for it; the taxi ride there and back to a meeting with an interested potential client who wants cooking lessons costs me a shitload of money - 117 nis - and I’m annoyed that I didn’t bill the people who did the event. On the other hand, it might bring it a lot of work in the future so it’s worth it. I hope. Meet friends for coffee and donuts. I end up paying which is annoying but I know she’ll get me back in the future. 38 nis. Then I get lunch because I’m still getting over my sugar hangover. 33 nis. On the way to the bus I grab a water bottle because I feel faint with thirst - 7 nis. Once at school, I duck into a grocery store and pick up a banana, apple,and yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 13.5 nis. Talk to a friend about signing up for a CSA which should actually save money - it’s 90 shekel a week plus a 20 shekel delivery fee. Divided by two people, it’s 55 shekel a week and should be enough produce for us, and as a bonus, it’s fresh, local, and seasonal and also will help me cut down on impulse grocery store buys.

I know the next few weeks/months are going to be stupidly expensive - I have to move a house, get new things for the new place, replace my phone because it’s dying. I can see that the cord on my computer charger is fraying - it will probably need to get repaired soon or fixed. That’s not to mention the two huge fees that have been looming over me - getting my license and getting my wisdom teeth out. Those two, plus tuition, are the like, massive things that I need to sort out but don’t even know how it is POSSIBLE. Gah.

Go home. Decide not to buy anything even though I need food that’s healthyish. I make some tea and peanut butter toast.

218.5

Tuesday Jan 9

Meet a friend for breakfast even though it’s not the smartest thing to do, but it’s delicious and we have fun. 50 nis.

Grab groceries on the way home, including some oatmeal to replace from what I took in this apartment. I get her a full container even though I only used a tiny bit. 30 nis

Throw in a load of laundry. Jesus christ I cannot WAIT to have a washing machine again. This blows. 20 nis. Then another 6 nis for drying it. Grr.

Head to class. I’m agressively tired so I go to cofix and get a shitty coffee and energy bar. 10 nis.

Happily I get a ride home! Make us tuna wraps and pack the apartment.

116

Wednesday Jan 10

I pack all morning. Kim is here to help me move which is amazing, so I take her for breakfast. Between the two of us and tip, it comes out to 112 nis.

Go home, continue packing. I need to get trash bags because I have nothing to put my linens in, and also replace some soy milk. 24 nis. While in am/pm I get a call from my health insurance - I need to make a late payment. Bloody hell. :(

We drive to make the second drop off - have to wait outside for a key. I get us both a juice because we are irritable and sore and exhausted. 18 nis.

Buy a soda water. 5 nis.

School. Buy a yogurt and clementine. 7.5 nis.

Head to Jerusalem. I’m starving and assuming Shlomi is in school till ten so I grab pizza with a friend. 45 nis. Meet another friend to kill some time - she convinces me to get ice cream. I dont even want ice cream but we’re stoned. Ugh. 15 nis.

226.5

Weekly Total: 1398

Food (groceries) 109

Food (restaurants/not at home/impulse buys) 870 

Transportation 159.5

Transportation, work related: 147

Misc: 99.5