#profiting from being in the white house is wrong

[scottguy]

Republicans are the worst hypocrites in the entire world.

[gub-bins]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.

YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.

anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant

tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone

first and foremost:

curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)

i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.

as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)

but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.

while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!

i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.

unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.

being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Microsoft pinky swears that THIS TIME they’ll make security a priority

One June 20, I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On June 21, I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On June 22, I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

As the old saying goes, "When someone tells you who they are and you get fooled again, shame on you." That goes double for Microsoft, especially when it comes to security promises.

Microsoft is, was, always has been, and always will be a rotten company. At every turn, throughout their history, they have learned the wrong lessons, over and over again.

That starts from the very earliest days, when the company was still called "Micro-Soft." Young Bill Gates was given a sweetheart deal to supply the operating system for IBM's PC, thanks to his mother's connection. The nepo-baby enlisted his pal, Paul Allen (whom he'd later rip off for billions) and together, they bought someone else's OS (and took credit for creating it – AKA, the "Musk gambit").

Microsoft then proceeded to make a fortune by monopolizing the OS market through illegal, collusive arrangements with the PC clone industry – an industry that only existed because they could source third-party PC ROMs from Phoenix:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

Bill Gates didn't become one of the richest people on earth simply by emerging from a lucky orifice; he also owed his success to vigorous antitrust enforcement. The IBM PC was the company's first major initiative after it was targeted by the DOJ for a 12-year antitrust enforcement action. IBM tapped its vast monopoly profits to fight the DOJ, spending more on outside counsel to fight the DOJ antitrust division than the DOJ spent on all its antitrust lawyers, every year, for 12 years.

IBM's delaying tactic paid off. When Reagan took the White House, he let IBM off the hook. But the company was still seriously scarred by its ordeal, and when the PC project kicked off, the company kept the OS separate from the hardware (one of the DOJ's major issues with IBM's previous behavior was its vertical monopoly on hardware and software). IBM didn't hire Gates and Allen to provide it with DOS because it was incapable of writing a PC operating system: they did it to keep the DOJ from kicking down their door again.

The post-antitrust, gunshy IBM kept delivering dividends for Microsoft. When IBM turned a blind eye to the cloned PC-ROM and allowed companies like Compaq, Dell and Gateway to compete directly with Big Blue, this produced a whole cohort of customers for Microsoft – customers Microsoft could play off on each other, ensuring that every PC sold generated income for Microsoft, creating a wide moat around the OS business that kept other OS vendors out of the market. Why invest in making an OS when every hardware company already had an exclusive arrangement with Microsoft?

The IBM PC story teaches us two things: stronger antitrust enforcement spurs innovation and opens markets for scrappy startups to grow to big, important firms; as do weaker IP protections.

Microsoft learned the opposite: monopolies are wildly profitable; expansive IP protects monopolies; you can violate antitrust laws so long as you have enough monopoly profits rolling in to outspend the government until a Republican bootlicker takes the White House (Microsoft's antitrust ordeal ended after GW Bush stole the 2000 election and dropped the charges against them). Microsoft embodies the idea that you either die a rebel hero or live long enough to become the evil emperor you dethroned.

From the first, Microsoft has pursued three goals:

Get too big to fail;

Get too big to jail;

Get too big to care.

It has succeeded on all three counts. Much of Microsoft's enduring power comes from succeeded IBM as the company that mediocre IT managers can safely buy from without being blamed for the poor quality of Microsoft's products: "Nobody ever got fired for buying Microsoft" is 2024's answer to "Nobody ever got fired for buying IBM."

Microsoft's secret sauce is impunity. The PC companies that bundle Windows with their hardware are held blameless for the glaring defects in Windows. The IT managers who buy company-wide Windows licenses are likewise insulated from the rage of the workers who have to use Windows and other Microsoft products.

Microsoft doesn't have to care if you hate it because, for the most part, it's not selling to you. It's selling to a few decision-makers who can be wined and dined and flattered. And since we all have to use its products, developers have to target its platform if they want to sell us their software.

This rarified position has afforded Microsoft enormous freedom to roll out harebrained "features" that made things briefly attractive for some group of developers it was hoping to tempt into its sticky-trap. Remember when it put a Turing-complete scripting environment into Microsoft Office and unleashed a plague of macro viruses that wiped out years worth of work for entire businesses?

https://web.archive.org/web/20060325224147/http://www3.ca.com/securityadvisor/newsinfo/collateral.aspx?cid=33338

It wasn't just Office; Microsoft's operating systems have harbored festering swamps of godawful defects that were weaponized by trolls, script kiddies, and nation-states:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EternalBlue

Microsoft blamed everyone except themselves for these defects, claiming that their poor code quality was no worse than others, insisting that the bulging arsenal of Windows-specific malware was the result of being the juiciest target and thus the subject of the most malicious attention.

Even if you take them at their word here, that's still no excuse. Microsoft didn't slip and accidentally become an operating system monopolist. They relentlessly, deliberately, illegally pursued the goal of extinguishing every OS except their own. It's completely foreseeable that this dominance would make their products the subject of continuous attacks.

There's an implicit bargain that every monopolist makes: allow me to dominate my market and I will be a benevolent dictator who spends his windfall profits on maintaining product quality and security. Indeed, if we permit "wasteful competition" to erode the margins of operating system vendors, who will have a surplus sufficient to meet the security investment demands of the digital world?

But monopolists always violate this bargain. When faced with the decision to either invest in quality and security, or hand billions of dollars to their shareholders, they'll always take the latter. Why wouldn't they? Once they have a monopoly, they don't have to worry about losing customers to a competitor, so why invest in customer satisfaction? That's how Google can piss away $80b on a stock buyback and fire 12,000 technical employees at the same time as its flagship search product (with a 90% market-share) is turning into an unusable pile of shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Microsoft reneged on this bargain from day one, and they never stopped. When the company moved Office to the cloud, it added an "analytics" suite that lets bosses spy on and stack-rank their employees ("Sorry, fella, Office365 says you're the slowest typist in the company, so you're fired"). Microsoft will also sell you internal data on the Office365 usage of your industry competitors (they'll sell your data to your competitors, too, natch). But most of all, Microsoft harvest, analyzes and sells this data for its own purposes:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revenge

Leave aside how creepy, gross and exploitative this is – it's also incredibly reckless. Microsoft is creating a two-way conduit into the majority of the world's businesses that insider threats, security services and hackers can exploit to spy on and wreck Microsoft's customers' business. You don't get more "too big to care" than this.

Or at least, not until now. Microsoft recently announced a product called "Recall" that would record every keystroke, click and screen element, nominally in the name of helping you figure out what you've done and either do it again, or go back and fix it. The problem here is that anyone who gains access to your system – your boss, a spy, a cop, a Microsoft insider, a stalker, an abusive partner or a hacker – now has access to everything, on a platter. Naturally, this system – which Microsoft billed as ultra-secure – was wildly insecure and after a series of blockbuster exploits, the company was forced to hit pause on the rollout:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/06/microsoft-delays-data-scraping-recall-feature-again-commits-to-public-beta-test/

For years, Microsoft waged a war on the single most important security practice in software development: transparency. This is the company that branded the GPL Free Software license a "virus" and called open source "a cancer." The company argued that allowing public scrutiny of code would be a disaster because bad guys would spot and weaponize defects.

This is "security through obscurity" and it's an idea that was discredited nearly 500 years ago with the advent of the scientific method. The crux of that method: we are so good at bullshiting ourselves into thinking that our experiment was successful that the only way to make sure we know anything is to tell our enemies what we think we've proved so they can try to tear us down.

Or, as Bruce Schneier puts it: "Anyone can design a security system that you yourself can't think of a way of breaking. That doesn't mean it works, it just means that it works against people stupider than you."

And yet, Microsoft – whose made more widely and consequentially exploited software than anyone else in the history of the human race – claimed that free and open code was insecure, and spent millions on deceptive PR campaigns intended to discredit the scientific method in favor of a kind of software alchemy, in which every coder toils in secret, assuring themselves that drinking mercury is the secret to eternal life.

Access to source code isn't sufficient to make software secure – nothing about access to code guarantees that anyone will review that code and repair its defects. Indeed, there've been some high profile examples of "supply chain attacks" in the free/open source software world:

https://www.securityweek.com/supply-chain-attack-major-linux-distributions-impacted-by-xz-utils-backdoor/

But there's no good argument that this code would have been more secure if it had been harder for the good guys to spot its bugs. When it comes to secure code, transparency is an essential, but it's not a sufficency.

The architects of that campaign are genuinely awful people, and yet they're revered as heroes by Microsoft's current leadership. There's Steve "Linux Is Cancer" Ballmer, star of Propublica's IRS Files, where he is shown to be the king of "tax loss harvesting":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/24/tax-loss-harvesting/#mego

And also the most prominent example of the disgusting tax cheats practiced by rich sports-team owners:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#economic-substance-doctrine

Microsoft may give lip service to open source these days (mostly through buying, stripmining and enclosing Github) but Ballmer's legacy lives on within the company, through its wildly illegal tax-evasion tactics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/13/pour-encoragez-les-autres/#micros-tilde-one

But Ballmer is an angel compared to his boss, Bill Gates, last seen some paragraphs above, stealing the credit for MS DOS from Tim Paterson and billions of dollars from his co-founder Paul Allen. Gates is an odious creep who made billions through corrupt tech industry practices, then used them to wield influence over the world's politics and policy. The Gates Foundation (and Gates personally) invented vaccine apartheid, helped kill access to AIDS vaccines in Sub-Saharan Africa, then repeated the trick to keep covid vaccines out of reach of the Global South:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#gates-foundation

The Gates Foundation wants us to think of it as malaria-fighting heroes, but they're also the leaders of the war against public education, and have been key to the replacement of public schools with charter schools, where the poorest kids in America serve as experimental subjects for the failed pet theories of billionaire dilettantes:

https://www.ineteconomics.org/perspectives/blog/millionaire-driven-education-reform-has-failed-heres-what-works

(On a personal level, Gates is also a serial sexual abuser who harassed multiple subordinates into having sexual affairs with him:)

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/13/technology/microsoft-sexual-harassment-policy-review.html

The management culture of Microsoft started rotten and never improved. It's a company with corruption and monopoly in its blood, a firm that would always rather build market power to insulate itself from the consequences of making defective products than actually make good products. This is true of every division, from cloud computing:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/28/other-peoples-computers/#clouded-over

To gaming:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/27/convicted-monopolist/#microsquish

No one should ever trust Microsoft to do anything that benefits anyone except Microsoft. One of the low points in the otherwise wonderful surge of tech worker labor organizing was when the Communications Workers of America endorsed Microsoft's acquisition of Activision because Microsoft promised not to union-bust Activision employees. They lied:

https://80.lv/articles/qa-workers-contracted-by-microsoft-say-they-were-fired-for-trying-to-unionize/

Repeatedly:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/activision-fired-staff-using-strong-language-about-remote-work-policy-union-2023-03-01/

Why wouldn't they lie? They've never faced any consequences for lying in the past. Remember: the secret to Microsoft's billions is impunity.

Which brings me to Solarwinds. Solarwinds is an enterprise management tool that allows IT managers to see, patch and control the computers they oversee. Foreign spies hacked Solarwinds and accessed a variety of US federal agencies, including National Nuclear Security Administration (who oversee nuclear weapons stockpiles), the NIH, and the Treasury Department.

When the Solarwinds story broke, Microsoft strenuously denied that the Solarwinds hack relied on exploiting defects in Microsoft software. They said this to everyone: the press, the Pentagon, and Congress.

This was a lie. As Renee Dudley and Doris Burke reported for Propublica, the Solarwinds attack relied on defects in the SAML authentication system that Microsoft's own senior security staff had identified and repeatedly warned management about. Microsoft's leadership ignored these warnings, buried the research, prohibited anyone from warning Microsoft customers, and sidelined Andrew Harris, the researcher who discovered the defect:

https://www.propublica.org/article/microsoft-solarwinds-golden-saml-data-breach-russian-hackers

The single most consequential cyberattack on the US government was only possible because Microsoft decided not to fix a profound and dangerous bug in its code, and declined to warn anyone who relied on this defective software.

Yesterday, Microsoft president Brad Smith testified about this to Congress, and promised that the company would henceforth prioritize security over gimmicks like AI:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/06/microsoft-in-damage-control-mode-says-it-will-prioritize-security-over-ai/

Despite all the reasons to mistrust this promise, the company is hoping Congress will believe it. More importantly, it's hoping that the Pentagon will believe it, because the Pentagon is about to award billions in free no-bid military contract profits to Microsoft:

https://www.axios.com/2024/05/17/pentagon-weighs-microsoft-licensing-upgrades

You know what? I bet they'll sell this lie. It won't be the first time they've convinced Serious People in charge of billions of dollars and/or lives to ignore that all-important maxim, "When someone tells you who they are and you get fooled again, shame on you."

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/14/patch-tuesday/#fool-me-twice-we-dont-get-fooled-again

[etherealsworldvision]

Singles Love Reading

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about “Care for Gaza” a non-profit charity aid on Twitter (now known as X) who are helping families in need. If you have the funds here are their PayPal and GoFundMe.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings!

Note : I’m going to give you a heads up…this ended up being a LOVE reading and not a SINGLES reading lol. I guess we are not feeling the romance tonight lol. Okay look — I DID ask for romance stuff and this is what I got so I hope you enjoy it still.

[ general message: saw 222 as I was making the layout so this number might be significant. I believe the numerology meaning is: balance, harmony, spiritual alignment. You can condense it to 6 which would mean: domestic happiness, harmony, and stability. Rain. Autumn/Winter season. Airplanes. 123 ]

Pile 1

[ channeled message: “because I’m tired of being the only one playing by the rules, the world is unfair […] maybe it’s okay if it’s unfair in our favor for once” – Craig from Killing It. ‘Called it love but it was lust’, ‘It wasn’t love like I had hoped’. ‘maybe another time,’ ‘love is a complexity’. ‘If love can fade so can pain’. ‘Let your cup overflow with the love you deserve’.

Additional Confirmation: Seashells. Becoming a Sea Jelly. Prickly. Becoming a Porcupine. Sea and the Earth. Poetry. Disturbance. ]

Cards: 7 of wands (Reverse); Hierophant (Reverse); 9 of Wands. Snail; White Dress; Queen of Hearts; 8 of Hearts.

First thing’s first…this is a complex reading. This is going to be a different type of love reading. I’m sorry if you’re looking for a ‘who is coming in’ but if you still want to stay then please do. This reading does have romantic undertones but it will dives into love.

When I started this reading: I felt like I needed to protect myself — bolt all the doors, close all the windows, triple check the dozens of cameras around the house, and secure myself by hiding under the bed with a blanket wrapped around me.

There’s this profound grief/sadness/yearning/loneliness all meshed together in a box. I think this is your energy because I’m not getting another person. I could be wrong though. But the overall energy feels like the saying “the world/love hasn’t been too kind to you.”

I’m not going to sit here and tell you how to feel. Your feelings are 100% valid because for some reason people probably told you how to feel which made things worse. Honestly all I can give is a virtual hug.

Honestly maybe you’ll find love in this reading [not romantic wise! I meant like a little bit of softness for your day. Idk maybe I’m rambling]. It just feels like you need a blanket and a warm cup of your favorite drink. Some of you might like apple cider with extra cinnamon. Maybe a nice cup of coffee or (ginger) tea with some sugar. Or it’s not physical warmth you’re after but, just this once, inner warmth.

This emptiness you have isn’t something to be taking lightly, that is for sure. It should be held with recognition and upmost delicacy. You aren’t difficult to be loved.

Some of you know this while others may find difficult: you are deserving of love. Some of you are probably groaning and rolling your eyes. I wanted to say it again just in case. I’m also sending you lots of love and support.

You know what, why should I stop there? You’re deserving of people putting effort into you, of understanding, of consistency, of acceptance, of things to be taken at a slower pace. You deserve a love that is supposed to feel like your favorite drink or food. I think, most importantly, you deserve the recognition.

If you can find a healthy outlet please do. I know this reading is probably chaotic but I think it’s supposed to validate how you feel. There was another that came in but it was a bit of blur so I think that’s a sign to leave this reading as is. I’m rooting for you pile 1 and sending many hugs with a lot of love! 💕

Pile 2

[ Channeled Messages: ‘We never realize how frozen we are until someone melts our ice’ ; ‘We know what we are, but not what we may be’ ; ‘Don’t waste a second of your time convincing other people your worth’.

Additional Messages: 111, Broseph (Character from Stoked), Bravery, Strength, Talk, Valentines Day, Take a Break, Focusing on Materialism, Beach Vibes; H2O; Putting in the Work, Babes by Hockey Dad, Safe and Sound by Mr. Floyd Larry, Fire Placements, Sagittarius]

Cards: 9 of Wands; 8 of Cups (Rx); The Chariot. Transformation (Yumiko Kurahashi); The Soul (Emily Dickinson. Jack of Clubs; 8 of Clubs; 7 of Clubs

Pile 2’s, I have to tell you something: I restarted the reading. I reshuffled all the cards and took a ‘day off’ cause my tummy hurts :( and I wanted a break. I don’t know why I had to mention that but…hey, maybe you need a break for the ache?

On with the reading! For those of you who did or are taking a break from love, you’re taking the cool ~ approach. Now this isn’t a mind game approach. I genuinely feel like it’s because you ‘moved on’ from love. You’re just tired of the same ol’ people coming into your life and making you stressed.

I get the feeling you’re taking the ‘Broseph’ (Character from Stoked) approach. If you know him, you know that he’s very chill and laidback. He lets the waves come to him and living life in a relaxing fun way. This could be the way you’re viewing love now.

For some of you I heard “love/dating pool is shit, I’m going to do what I want’, which CONGRATS! You live your life, I’m very proud of you. You may also be taking a funny approach to your love life. I just get the vibe that: ‘love isn’t so serious anymore so might as well make the best of it by taking it lightly’.

Despite these approaches you’re also more selective and will put a boundary up. Again congrats to you! You’re at the point of, again, enjoying your life. I’m also getting a sense you’re putting more emphasis in your friendships. This is going to be a little deep.

For some of you, you may find the love you were missing within yourself through friendships/community. As in, the romantic love you thought would ‘fill’ the hole is not it. It was actually platonic/communal love that you craved. For other’s the love for yourself due to, soul searching’, basically rediscovering yourself.

Overall this is mainly due to people, mostly romantic, not being compatible with you. Like I have a feeling — during the summer time there will be in-depth soul searching. No, it’s not the ‘hippie’ type thing! Unless it could be we never know lol, it’s actually more of transformation of the old you. You’re entering a new part in your life.

Okay this is specific. I don’t know what Valentine’s Day did for you all but for some reason I think their gift to you made you realize ‘yeah…I’m breaking up with you’. Now this isn’t to scare anyone! This is like a 0.1% of you. I just feel like this could be how 0.1% of you will ‘entire’ this transformation.

To recap; despite the way you were treated and the people who were in your life. You’re now rediscovering yourself, your worth, questioning and finding the love you needed. You’re still open to love (in general) but more selective with the people. You’re now or will be letting love find you. Again you’re taking the Broseph approach lol. Have fun and good luck, I’m very proud of my pile 2’s :) 💕.

Pile 3

[ Channeled Messages: ‘If soulmates do exist they’re not found. They are made. People meet, they get a good feeling, and they work on building a relationship’ ; Release your mind, don’t become the hurt that they hurt you’ ; ‘Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave. And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.’

Additional Messages: 222, 232, 234, Cat, Curiosity, Watch Your Mouth by The Backseat Lovers; Cold Hands; Burning Candle, Wedding Fantasies, Prayer Beads; Traditions; Selenite; Blue Calcite; Rivers and Roads by the Head and the Hearts; ‘Might Have Been The One Vibe’, The Good Place. ]

Cards: Page of Swords; Empress (Rx); Tower. Ace of Diamonds; 10 of Spades; Ace of Clubs. White Dress; Devotion.

Pile 3, I want to say I’m so sorry for what you went through. There’s a sense of heartache and devastation that recently happened. I heard you might have gotten a call or this sudden new broke your heart. A part of you may felt drawn to pile 1 so if you did then please check that out.

My cat also wants to say hello. She’s actually hanging out with your cards. A message popped up in my head: you are protected. I also want to add that your pile is a long read.

For a lot of you I feel that this is devastating. You may have spent all this time nourishing, putting the effort, and pouring your love into something that wasn’t ’worth it at the end’.

For some, not all, I don’t like to bring this up and be this type of reader…but the news may have been about cheating. As for the others the relationship could have ended because of a huge dealbreaker; like traveling or different values. There could have even been a conversation about money that led to an argument.

Either way, there was a sudden break(up) and now there is grief. I’m not getting so much as to how to help. I think this reading is more about acknowledging your grief and a reminder that you will find like minded people.

Another thing; you may feel anger as well. It’s like a simmered anger. It’s there but simmering…it’s hot yet it constantly murmurs. It feels as if it could be towards everyone. For some it may even be towards the world. But for all it feels as if this anger is directed to yourself.

Okay there’s a big select of you that might have been in a long term relationship. I’ve been tiptoeing around this but it feels like you were so close and then this happened, and now what the fuck, right? Basically the rug was ripped from under you. It just feels like sudden devastation.

I’m not going to feed into your anger and your grief. I am certainly not going to bypass this either by singing Kumbaya and lighting up an incense.

Instead, let’s acknowledge this. You may be feeling angry, scared, all of the grieving symptoms. That is okay! This is going to be hard to hear but grief doesn’t fade. It stays, it lingers, it’s there. The only thing we can do is feel it but do our best to not let grief consume us. We just have to take it day by day in little doses.

This may even be a reminder to pour in that love into yourself. No this isn’t some “self love heals all” type of thing. I believe [the right and healthy] community/friendships can help you out here, but let’s not forget to pour into ourselves too. This can be by creating a safe space for yourself. It could be doing things you always wanted to do. It can be gifting yourself something or simply journaling and crying it out with ice cream.

I also want to say the love you poured into that relationship is no waste. It’s proof that you are worthy of love, that you are capable of love. You are a reminder that the love you pour is out there. You have so much love to give and now it is time to give that love to yourself. It is also a reminder that this love can also be poured into you by your friends and community.

Another reminder, because it seems to be prominent, anger is a reminder of your boundaries. Anger reminds us what we fight for, what we need to feel protected. Anger is a boogieman to society, which can become it if not handled in a healthy way. However, Anger can be justice if you learn to dig deep at the root. This is all I have for you today. I wish you the best 💕

If you liked this reading please like, comment, reblog, and share. And if you want to further support me then tips are appreciated on: Ko-Fi ; PayPal ; Venmo ; Cashapp

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd. 

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out. 

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit 

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard? 

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why! 

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side. 

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.” 

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had. 

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?” 

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?” 

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?” 

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?” 

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now. 

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.” 

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second. 

“Okay, now out with it.” 

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead. 

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?” 

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah, I would know.” 

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —” 

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.” 

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually. 

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.” 

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?” 

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.” 

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know. 

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.” 

“Why would I be mad? ” 

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now. 

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.” 

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life. 

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?” 

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating. 

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.” 

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice. 

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head. 

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. 

“You’re gonna hate the answer.” 

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.” 

“Okay, I won’t then.” 

“Oh, (Y/N).” 

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care. 

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.” 

“Does he know?” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.” 

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.” 

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything. 

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.” 

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment. 

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?” 

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.” 

“But?” 

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.” 

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval. 

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?” 

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.” 

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!” 

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right? 

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her. 

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is. 

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is. 

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower. 

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!” 

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now. 

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?” 

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?” 

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?” 

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable. 

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.” 

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.” 

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?” 

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now. 

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” 

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.” 

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up? 

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.” 

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?” 

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh” 

“You alright?” 

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.” 

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.” 

“Let me get you out of —” 

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.” 

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.” 

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.” 

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door. 

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “ 

“I don’t know shit about babies.” 

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn’t have to come here, really.” 

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —” 

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.” 

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives? 

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?” 

“Do you have beer?” 

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach. 

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that. 

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.” 

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.” 

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff. 

“What’s all this?” 

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet. 

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.” 

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.” 

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming. 

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.” 

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N). 

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.” 

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home. 

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt. 

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification. 

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference. 

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

[atopvisenyashill]

"Daenerys has done a lot of wrongs" and said are killing slavers

thanks for this one actually because you gave me an excuse to talk about that for a bit.

now first of all - i find it very frustrating that when people say “this was wrong” everyone defaults to “why do you care about slavers” when usually, when i’m talking about things dany has done wrong, i’m talking about mirri maz durr, sacking astapor, sexually abusing irri, and taking a profit off slavery. mirri wasn’t a slaver, she was a slave, and she was blood sacrificed by dany. sacking a city, regardless of who is in that city, is always messy and bad - ask Cleos the Butcher and the people he rules over how they feel about the Sack. Ask the people of King's Landing how they feel about their houses being set on fire every few decades. Ask Missandei how she really feels watching the woman she put all her faith in take a cut off the selling of slaves. Hell, Dany knows that Irri does not want to have sex with her and is doing it because she feels "obligated" because she's a slave and Dany still uses her as a bed warmer and then bars her from expressing an interest in Rakharo because she doesn't believe Irri is ~worthy~ of Rakharo (worthy to fuck but not to love and don't I fucking know about attitudes like that coming from white straight girls lmao).

But let's move past all of that (you certainly seem uninterested in talking about the personhood of slaves like Missandei and Mirri after all, despite ostensibly defending them here) and dig into the crucifying of the Great Masters. In fact, let's turn to Dany's own thoughts over this, bolded part mine:

In the plaza before the Great Pyramid, the Meereenese huddled forlorn. The Great Masters had looked anything but great in the morning light. Stripped of their jewels and their fringed tokars, they were contemptible; a herd of old men with shriveled balls and spotted skin and young men with ridiculous hair. Their women were either soft and fleshy or as dry as old sticks, their face paint streaked by tears. “I want your leaders,” Dany told them. “Give them up, and the rest of you shall be spared.” “How many?” one old woman had asked, sobbing. “How many must you have to spare us?” “One hundred and sixty-three,” she answered. She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood… Dany put the glass aside, frowning. It was just. It was. I did it for the children.

Immediately after doing it, Dany regrets it. She recognizes she did it while angry and impassioned and reckless, and that the deaths were agonizing, that she did it not for the children but because she was angry and humiliated. This scene has never been as righteously clean morally than people would believe from the moment it was on page! She recognizes she did a fucked up thing but rationalizes it away because she can't admit she made a mistake. She reflects on it later again as she's ruling Meereen:

She had not forgotten the slave children nailed up along the road from Yunkai. They had numbered one hundred sixty-three, a child every mile, nailed to mileposts with one arm outstretched to point her way. After Meereen had fallen, Dany had nailed up a like number of Great Masters. Swarms of flies had attended their slow dying, and the stench had lingered long in the plaza. Yet some days she feared that she had not gone far enough. These Meereenese were a sly and stubborn people who resisted her at every turn. 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. To rule Meereen I must win the Meereenese, however much I may despise them.

She lets the bodies of the people she wants to rule rot, the smell lingering in the plaza for weeks, reminding the people she is trying to make peace with that she can and will viciously murder their families and gloat over their corpses and they cannot stop her. Then doesn't put in any rules about wages, anything to help the sick and disabled. She blames the Great Masters for working within the system they've had for generations despite yelling at them to get a new system and doing nothing to help them move to that new system. She judges them, she hates them, and she wonders why she has the Meereneese version of the KKK springing up afterwards. She is just as ineffective as Andrew Johnson is during Reconstruction, too focused on her own feelings to look objectively at what this destroyed city actually needs from her, instead judging them from her own lofty pyramid with her own slaves and her own superior culture and mopes about how much she wants the Seven Kingdoms.

SHE is the one who decided she was going to rule this place. But instead of focusing on reconciliation, she focuses in on revenge. And that is why she sets herself up to fail.

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

The Bear episode 3.06 "Napkins"

I’ve seen a lot of discourse and criticism for this season already, which at first glance is hard to argue with, but after finishing season three I think there’s a big line to be drawn between Carmy’s values and The Bear’s values. From what I’ve seen on Threads (I’m on Threads… you should come), people are falling off The Bear because of what they perceive the show has become: a glorification of a privileged white man’s gentrification of a down to earth, local family restaurant.

People will clap back to these statements with things like “but it’s literally his restaurant.” and “they’re still making the sandwiches at a window in the back!” which is all true, but I think equally missing the show’s larger point. With each passing season, I feel more and more committed to viewing The Bear as a whole entity. It’s not a procedural, a 9-1-1, a Law and Order, or a Grey’s Anatomy that returns to its core theme every single episode. There are episodes with huge emotional meat and weight, with observations about life, grief, food, and the characters to be gleaned throughout, but every episode is a stroke of a paintbrush in a painting that we’ll only be able to really step back and digest when the series ends… hopefully a long time from now.

Season one forced Carmy back to his roots, shoved his unprocessed grief in his face all day every day. It turned him into the ticking time bomb he is today, but it also served as a reminder of the love of people and reverie of food that got him into this business. And this fueled him into season two, where he put everything on the line to do food the only way he knows how: intensely. Enter season three.

This season, Carmy’s the problem. His freezer meltdown wasn’t a cathartic release that freed him to love and work smoothly; all season it’s like he never left that frenzied headspace we last saw him in. The pressure is on financially, but more than that, Carmy simply can’t stomach not being exceptional. His non-negotiables are certifiable. A new menu every single day that he comes up with entirely by himself? Needing these brand new dishes cooked at breakneck speed? An environment of “excellence” where it seems he’s the only one allowed to yell?

If people’s critiques of The Bear were redirected to be critiques of Carmy, they would be spot on. Carmy’s need to be on this insane level is going to be the very thing that is going to run this beautiful opportunity to the ground. He’s veering off the path he was set on by good people and good food; he’s forgetting those things in favor of tweezers and the old, toxic work environment that he can’t get out of his head. But The Bear is well aware of these shortcomings. Not a single person didn’t balk at the idea of a new menu every day. His ingredients are racking up such a bill that The Beef sandwich window, run singlehandedly by Ebra, is the only part of the business making a profit. Richie is laughed and shouted out of the kitchen when he tries to set his own non-negotioables for the front of house, recognizing the importance of guest satisfaction. When asked to recreate a dish from several nights prior to be photographed for a review, no one can remember what was in it. When Sydney tries to help Carm work on tomorrow’s menu, he’s so dismissive of her that it’s hard not to want her to take this new job. The season finale’s episode description merely says “Carmen thinks about apologizing”- and we’re sucked in because we all know he’s overdue for some apologies.

But nothing really confirms that The Bear knows what it’s about quite like “Napkins”. A flashback episode detailing how Tina first started working at The Beef, five minutes in had me declaring that “just because it’s a good filler episode doesn’t mean it’s not a filler episode”. I was so wrong that now I’m here to say that it’s this season’s central episode, the one that really zeroes in on what they’re trying to say at this moment in time.

With Carmy nowhere in sight, Tina, Mikey, Richie, and some Faks are tugging at the heartstrings of people trying to juggle making ends meet with finding some meaning in life. After being let go from her job after a decade of loyal service, Tina has been striking out on the job hunt for weeks, and it’s starting to get dire. She sees an online posting for an open interview tomorrow, and full of optimism, she heads to the office. When she arrives, a receptionist who can’t even look up from his computer tells her the post must be old because the position has already been filled internally. She could cry, I could cry.

She wanders into The Beef, in all the loud, chaotic glory of its heyday. An ever-pleasant Richie does more than take her order for coffee- he introduces himself and gives her a sandwich on the house. She takes it to the back by the arcade machines, bites into it, and promptly bursts into tears. Both caring and concerned about having a crying customer, Mikey sits down next to her. That guy was so personable and seeing him take the time to sit with her in such a genuine, laid back way depicts all the traits that Carmy lacks. Carmy needs to slow down, interact with people, remember why he’s here. The Bear knows that food is a form of caretaking and a source of community. It’s just Carmy who’s forgotten.

And the heartbreak of the show is that he would absolutely have that lightbulb moment if he were able to hear his brother say:

“Full disclosure, this place… like, this fucking place, it sucks. Like, it sucks. It’s like, you go home, and you fucking smell it, you know? And it’s, like, insane. And there’s so much fucking yelling here. But, I swear to you, there are days that it is so much fun. Like, it is so much fun. And- and the pay is shit, right? But there are days we make a rack of fucking tips, and it’s like… it feels fucking good, you know?”

And when Tina offers him her résumé:

“What the fuck am I gonna do with a résumé? I’ll go clean the toilet with the fucking résumé. I don’t need a résumé. I talked to you.”

The Bear is about connecting with people through food. It’s also about Carmy’s journey of remembering this after being broken by both the rigors of the high-end culinary world and the loss of his brother, the embodiment of that love and connection.

The Bear (the restaurant) is doing way too much right now, but The Bear (the show) is most definitely on the path of seeing Carmy’s lunacy to a turning point where he and the restaurant both can return to their roots. Stories are journeys and characters are flawed. Let’s let it breathe and see where we end up without conflating a character flaw to a shortcoming of the show itself.

[dirtbra1n]

Seigi Sunday the second—please don’t look at what day it is

(BELATEDLY LINKING THE FIRST ONE READ MY POSTS BOY)

okay so it’s Seigi saturday last-Sunday monday tuesday wednesday thursday I even slept in today can we be nice to me,

discontinuing that bit. Seriously just don't look at what day it is. it was technically a sunday when I finished it. My request for today is to acquire a phoenixheadinhands image and have it on hand as we move forward. 30 image cap beat my ass There were intense budget cuts.

but anyway white text this time :) where we start:

PESSIMIST!!! 🫵🫵🫵

a comment from jeweler richard enthusiast kiri @aranarumei and more seigi under the cut

The shop's owner was one Mr. Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian, a man so elegant he looked like he could have stepped right out of a BBC historical drama, with an impeccable command of the Japanese language. And I had no clue what he was thinking. As much as I figured it wouldn't be long before he looked at the books and decided to close up shop, I diligently did my job cleaning the place and boiling milk with tea in it. And honestly, it didn't really matter what was going on with the shop. I had to work to get paid. I was still working twice a week at the TV station, too. But in two weeks' time, my pessimistic predictions were proved very wrong.

look he also realized what a pessimist he is. this won't come back to shoot me again ever. thats a promise. I would never lie to you about this.

Now, I knew I was just a part-timer who hadn't seen the store's books or knew what the rent was, so this was just a hunch—but I really didn't think this weekend jewelry café in Ginza was Richard's main job. I was sure he had customers like Ms. Miyashita in Kobe all over Japan, if not the entire world. He probably spent the week going from house to house showing off gems and selling them. With the profit from those sales, it wouldn't really matter if this shop was here or not.

It would be a long way off before we were on comfortable enough terms for me to ask him how the business was doing. "So, what's the deal with carats? I was really shocked when I learned about it last week. It's a just a unit for measuring weight. One carat is 0.2 grams." "Indeed, it is. And what exactly is it that troubles you about this fact?" "I guess I don't get why you need another unit. Couldn't you use grams?" "...It'll make more sense to you later." Richard's attitude seemed to suggest that if I wasn't actually interested in it, there was no reason to force myself to learn about gemstones. But he would still answer my questions, and he got mad at me when I told him I'd been keeping the pink sapphire ring in my fridge because the box might get moldy, and gave me a new box and cloth for it. He must really love gemstones. [...]

[if theres space for it, :phoenixheadinhands: if not, leave this in. Who give a shit] [:phoenixheadinhands:]

It was a woman with long black hair, fair skin, and narrow eyes. She was beautiful, in her late twenties, wearing a pencil skirt and a white blouse. She must've come straight from work. She made me feel a little nervous. "Um, this is a jeweler's. The rental office is on the first floor." "...Yes, there is a sign out front. Or, what, do you only accept customers by appointment?" "Welcome. You've made no mistake. We would be happy to accept your business." She seemed momentarily overwhelmed by hearing a blond-haired, blue-eyed man speak such fluent Japanese but quickly regained her composure. Typically, women reacted in one of two ways when they met Richard for the first time. They either got this indiscreet smile on their faces, like they were about to dig into a delicious meal, or they got very quiet in an attempt to hide their embarrassment. This woman didn't fit into either category. She seemed utterly unmoved by him. Or rather, she seemed utterly devoid of any emotion at all. Like an empty husk of a human being. She seemed pretty thin, and on closer inspection, I could tell that the shoulders of her shirt didn't fit quite right. Her voice was steady but her gait wasn't. I had to wonder if she was okay. At any rate, I showed her to the seating area and started making tea. I added extra sugar in hopes of making her feel a bit better. The tea snack of the day was leaf-shaped pies that I'd picked up in the basement of department store.

SEIGI.............. big heart aside What I'm choosing to take from this is that women are wolves. watch out richard. awoooo

Heat treatment. I'd never heard of it before. Richard pulled out documents for the identification report process, explaining the costs and time involved. Ms. Akashi immediately filled out the required forms and then got up. "All right, it's in your hands now. I work during the day, so I'd appreciate it if you only contacted me after 6 p.m. I'm sorry, but I'm pressed for time, so I'll be going now. Thanks." Before I could even offer her some tea, Ms. Akashi had already left. I'd studied on how to handle a situation where a customer tried to run off with a product they hadn't paid for, but this was basically the opposite. She left something and ran off. "...Is this a new kind of scam or something? Like she'll come back and insist that we stole from her and have some scary people beat us up?"

seigi don't be cute. why's this cute. Shut up. you would literally be fine in a fight don't be CUTE. all this coming from the guy who replied But we're not total strangers and posited What if I were a swindler like Seigi can we be serious. you of all people can not talk on this

I took a closer look at the item she left behind. It was a brooch arranged around a central, pure red, oblong ruby. The metal was a polished silver. When I counted, I found there were twelve diamond-encrusted ribbons emanating from the central red stone. There were at least ten small diamonds on each ribbon. The design was elegant. "I know I'm a total amateur when it comes to this stuff, but... this is a really high-quality piece, isn't it?" "Indeed it is." It was hard to believe. Was this really the kind of thing someone would just casually drop off their first time in the shop? What would she do if she came back and it was gone? "She should take better care of it." "I don't think leaving gems in the refrigerator is a particularly good idea, either. But for better or worse, gems reflect the feelings of their owners. So perhaps it's no wonder that those sentiments come out in how they're handled." I ignored his little jab at me and drank the milk tea the customer hadn't even touched.

have I told you two already that you can't have normal fucking conversations. You are not normal

"Richard, I think this is the first time I've ever seen a ruby in person." He said he didn't mind, so I didn't hesitate to gaze at the brooch. The thing that really caught my eye was the red stone in the middle. It was probably more than twice the size of my pink sapphire. It had been about a month since I started working at Étranger—though I'd only actually worked five days so far—but in that time, numerous gems, the names of which I'd never even heard of before, had crossed my eyes. But a ruby had thus far never appeared in the box of treasures. "It really is red... Like when you find a spot of blood in raw chicken." "Was that some sort of joke? Or do you actually understand what you're saying?" "Huh? I'm not sure I follow." "Pigeon blood," Richard enunciated every last syllable. I still didn't follow. "It's a term used to describe the finest of rubies. Just as exquisitely blue sapphires are called 'cornflower blue," the vivid red of the most highly prized rubies is compared to the blood of pigeons. For you to come up with that analogy completely unawares, well, bravo."

richard is impressed because he would not have come up with the analogy himself, and he would not have come up with the analogy himself because . He really really really can't fucking cook. first bravo though :)

Bravo? That's a good thing, right? My mother, Hiromi, didn't have much time to cook, and my grandmother didn't exactly have the most sophisticated palate, so as far as I ever knew, cooking was just a survival skill. But sometimes it was more than that. Like when I'd remove the tendons from chicken thighs to make fried chicken. The real trick was to fry them at a high temperature. Which reminded me— "What's this heat treatment thing you were talking about earlier? Why would you heat up a stone?" "In the case of rubies and sapphires, heating them makes their color more vivid." "Wow! So it must be a chemical reaction, huh? Do you think the first person who thought of trying it was scared? Seems like a pretty big gamble, right? Or do the gems not get burned if you mess up?" "The process is conducted under extremely high temperatures. So if the stone can't handle the heat, it's less that you'll end up with a scorched stone and more that you'd end up with nothing at all."

"It depends on the artisan and the specific stone being worked on, but it's typically around a thousand degrees for anywhere from a few tens of seconds to several minutes. Of course, this isn't the sort of thing that can just be repeated indefinitely. Whether a piece of corundum has been heat treated or not has a significant effect on its value. Padparadscha, like in that ring of yours, is typically a name given to natural—that is, untreated—pink sapphires." "Corundum? Natural pink? Wait, I'm confused." A storm of question marks filled my head. Richard sighed and pulled out Gemstones: An Illustrated Guide. He opened it to the page on rubies. The opposite page was about sapphires. "Let's start from the basics. Do you know the difference between rubies and sapphires?" "...One's red and the other's blue?" "Indeed. That is essentially the only difference." "What?" "You could think of these two stones like siblings. Corundum is the general name for the mineral. Red corundum is called ruby, and all other colors of corundum are called sapphire." So it really was just a difference in color. But then why did they need different names? Why was pink sapphire, "sapphire" and not pink ruby?

categorically refuse to drag you all into my pit trap without making you understand that you will learn things. Please come learn things with me

actually looking back on it now given seigi's usual fare Beauty reigned supreme is subtle for real. good job seigi. You're winning

Richard slid his finger over two squares to the right, pointing to a picture of a stone that was more purple than red and not particularly clear. "If it were between this ruby, ruby A, which has not undergone heat treatment, and ruby B, a stone of a much higher grade that has, which do you think would be considered more valuable?" "Uh... Hm..." Which one would it be? The natural stone? No, it couldn't be that easy. "I think someone would prefer to wear the redder one, and a layperson wouldn't know anything about heat treatment, so I guess ruby B, the higher-grade stone that's been heat treated." "Correct again." "Ooh!"

I was going to put phoenixheadinhands here for seigi's Ooh! because I think hes cute but I need to save image slots for later and also I think you might think phoenixheadinhands is overreaction to seigi Ooh! and you're probably right. chronicling it anyway because I Like To Be Level With You .

"...What do you think her angle is? Maybe it was a gift?" "I'm generalizing here, but people typically want to know the value of something when numbers are important than feelings." Meaning when people wanted to let go of something and turn it into cash. But would someone just looking for quick cash really go out of their way to visit a jewelry shop in Ginza? Judging from her behavior when she was in here, she didn't seem very concerned about money. The more I thought about it, the more mysterious it became. Richard snapped the lid of the jewelry box shut. The very standard black box still looked brand new. "So this is your first ruby, huh? You should consider yourself lucky. You're one of the few people to ever lay eyes on a ruby of such high quality."*

*look I'm not gonna say anything. Also not going to say anything about the everythingelse Look this is a big fucking gun. it's a really big gun. just walk with me.

Richard ended the conversation by declaring it would be a fruitless endeavor. I actually liked how uncompromising he could be. Maybe he was so resolute in his opinions because he worked in an industry that involved dealing with people from all over the world, who might not share the same ideas of what constituted "common sense." It was such a simple, yet valiant attitude. He was so unreasonable that he wouldn't drink anything but water out of a plastic bottle, and he was very particular about cleaning, but he was a good guy at heart. Well, I was pretty sure he was, at least. No other customers came by after that. After we closed up shop at five and I said goodbye to Richard, I wandered around Ginza on my way home. If I were being honest, I'd never really thought much about my criteria for selecting a romantic partner. There were just two callous options: You either have a girlfriend, or you don't. And I'd never had one. Though, truthfully, I was always so busy I never really felt all that desperate to start dating. But as of this moment, I already knew where my happiness lay.

thinking about volume two gripping my head and groaning in agony. Moving on.

As a student enrolled in the economics department of Kasaba University, I couldn't help being excited for Mondays. I had my compulsory English class on Monday. The professor was brutal, especially when it came to attendance, and to make matters worse, it was in building 15—the one without an elevator. The class was harsh enough that you might even be forced to retake an exam if you didn't score high enough.

Shouko Tanimoto. She was the same age as me and a second year in the education department: a delicate, raven-haired angel with soft curls styled into a bob. I was pretty sure her favorite color was white, since I frequently saw her wearing skirts and blouses in that color. I thought it looked very good on her.

TANIMOTO-SAAAANNNNNNNNNN hi pretty girl :)

We'd first met last month, after an information session about the different departments at the university. The crosswalk across the main street near campus was always incredibly crowded during breaks—I was pretty sure only Shibuya and Shinjuku station had crosswalks to rival it. At any rate, I was at the crosswalk when I saw a little old man walking toward me. He looked unsteady on his feet, like he could fall at any moment. That was when a short girl who'd been walking in front of me turned as she passed him, offered him her arm and asked if he was all right. She supported him as he walked, even though her bag was heavy with textbooks and she was heading in the opposite direction. I'd initially meant to just pretend I hadn't seen anything and keep walking, but I slipped over to the other side of the road, grabbed the old man by the arm, and threatened him. "Sir, I don't know how many times I've seen you cross this road today, but it's been more than a few. And you're always clinging to a different girl." The old man let out a little squeak and took off so fast in the opposite direction that it was hard to imagine he was the same person. The area was too crowded to go after him. After I'd crossed to the side I was originally headed for, I regretted what I'd done. If I hadn't said anything, the girl would have been none the wiser and wouldn't have to feel gross about the whole incident. I bowed my head and apologized, and her eyes went wide. "Why are you apologizing? You helped me. I should be thanking you." Her carefree smile made me worry, so I ended up sticking my nose in somebody else's business again. "Even if people look like they're in need of help, there are good ones and bad ones out there.* So you should be more careful." She tilted her head as she walked and smiled again. It was strange. Every time she smiled, I felt like the world got a little brighter. "You're not wrong. But I can't tell a bad person apart from someone who really does need help just by looking at them, so I'd rather help regardless. I wonder if there's a better way to go about it..." The moment she got this bashful look on her face was the moment I fell for her. It even made my own encounter with that old man on the way to class, when I'd offered to walk him to his destination and he scrambled for an excuse and ran off, seem like a sign from the universe or something. I got her name and what department she was in, and the moment I found out we had one class in common, I knew it was fate. She came in first thing in the morning, and I wanted to talk to her, so I came in early on Mondays. Tanimoto spoke slowly. There was always this gentle air about her, and only her. Her friends would tease her, calling her an airhead, but that didn’t seem to bother her at all. If Richard was a crystal clear gemstone slumbering at the bottom of a lake, Tanimoto was a powdered sugar fairy living in the ceiling of a bakery. I felt I could smell the sweets just sitting next to her. From what I could hear from the other girls, it didn't sound like she was dating anyone, either. I wanted to date her so badly. If only I could. I desperately wanted to ask her out. I wanted to walk down the street with her, holding hands. I wanted to go places with her—to the beach or the mountains, anywhere. I couldn't shake the feeling that if I brought it up out of the blue, she'd shut me down in two seconds flat. For as hot as the fire of love was burning in my heart, I had no way to put it out either.

*belatedly realized this is anotherfucking gun Anywa

"Seigi, what's that?" "Huh?" She was pointing at the reference book on minerals I had sitting next to my textbook. I'd borrowed it from the university's main library on my way in, but it was all chemical formulas and stuff—a futile effort for a liberal arts student like myself.

he's just like meee.....

"Seigi, do you like rocks?" "Huh?" Tanimoto flashed me a smile in my confusion. The way she was looking at me made it seem like she was hoping for something. Maybe, just maybe... ...Tanimoto likes gemstones? "I'm researching heat treatment right now!" I began to babble. Tanimoto's chunky bangs swayed softly as she tilted her head to listen. She squinted at me, like someone wearing glasses that weren't the right prescription. Maybe I was being too forward. Maybe I'd made the wrong call. Why the hell did I bring up heat treatment, of all things? Is that really what you talk to a girl about when you're all alone together in a classroom? I screwed up. This is it. I've messed it all up. While I was panicking, Tanimoto turned her head again and said, "Heat treatment for what kind of stone? Or are you just researching it in general?" "Huh?"

seigi how many Huh?s is that now. thats three Huh?s seigi. in so many sentences. lets regroup. do it for your angel tanimoto-san.

"Heat treatment is pretty typical in the world of gemstones. Beryl, quartz, and corundum are the obvious ones, but there are plenty of other stones that change their properties when they're heated." I was so surprised I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room for a few seconds. Then, I was overcome with intense joy. It was like finally seeing the light break at the other end if a very long tunnel. That was the level of emotion I was at. I'd gotten through to her. The bits and pieces of things I'd picked up at my part-time job since this spring helped me get through to her. I wished for just that day—that moment—that I could be Richard. Face included.

you didn't need to bring him up... seigi....

"Yeah, I was looking into the heat treatment of rubies!" "So corundum, then. That's the scientific name for ruby and sapphire." "Right, I've heard that before! I stumbled on the term 'pigeon blood' recently, too." "...Seigi, you know that term means something very special." Tanimoto said with an impenetrable expression and smile on her face, turning into a completely different person than the one I'd known. "Pigeon blood rubies are extremely valuable. They're only found in a particular mine in Myanmar. Rubies are found elsewhere, like Thailand, Sri Lanka, and other parts of Asia, as well as Mozambique in Africa, but the highest quality rubies have always come from Myanmar." She continued, saying that due to geopolitical and supply instability, the prices of the highest quality specimens had skyrocketed. With a smile, she added that even the most beautiful of lights still cast shadows. Her tone wasn't one of half-hearted small talk—it was the tone of someone with strong opinions. So was her expression. "Did you know that rubies and sapphires are technically the same mineral, Seigi?" "I-I did, but... I still don't understand why they're different colors." "To put it simply, they have different impurities in the stone. Corundum is a kind of aluminum oxide, but if a stone has trace amounts of chromium in it, it'll be red, while iron and titanium will produce blue and purple stones. Which means there are techniques for manipulating color, too." "Wow...!" The more she talked, the faster she spoke. Her expression was stern and her voice low—there was a vague atmosphere of solemn dignity about her. She hunched over, crossed her legs, and tensed her eyes so much that it almost looked like someone had drawn a straight line in permanent marker under each of them. This was no bakery fairy standing in front of me but something else. Something more— "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Before I could put my finger on just what she reminded me of, Tanimoto stomped on the brakes. I was so startled I actually gasped. She giggled bashfully, and her face momentarily returned to her usual fairy-like state, though traces of the stern wrinkles about her eyes remained. "I, uh, just really love stones is all. Once I get going, I just can't stop. I'm really sorry."

difficult and even a bit of a narcissist Seigi hes gonna get you back for this. he will get you back. also tanimoto-san I Love You

every time seigi says something lame and econ major-like I cheer

"Good point. My boss said the same thing." "Hmm." Tanimoto let out a listless sigh, and her eyelid twitched. "...Seigi, lemme ask you something. Do you think of gemstones as assets? Or accessories?" "I think they're a little of both, but they can be more than that, too." "Why?" Why? Because I wouldn't consider my grandmother's ring an "asset" or an "accessory." But how was I supposed to explain that? I'm just a part-timer who doesn't know the first thing about gemstones. Tanimoto giggled as I got flustered. She was so cute. So damn cute. "Sorry, I guess I kinda brought the conversation to a weird place. But stones really aren't that complicated. I mean, you're not gonna die without precious gems after all, and I can't think of anyone who really hates them, you know? I think stones have a kinda, like inherit goodness to them." "Yes! Exactly! I think so, too. They might be accessories, or useful ways to bank value, but they're so much more than that... I think they have the power to connect people. And I think that's what I like about them... yeah." I didn't think my explanation was elegant enough to justify even an extremely generous comparison to Richard, but I'd said what I wanted to say. I figured as long as I got the idea across, that was good enough. While I was thinking, Tanimoto tensed her eyes up again and leaned forward—the "other" her was back. "Now I don't want you to think of this as the opinion of an amateur geologist but just as a personal, touchy-feely opinion." "Sure..." After repeating her lengthy preamble again, Tanimoto began, "Stones that are considered 'good' as assets or accessories are usually especially beautiful or rare ones. Like pigeon blood rubies. And that's why we developed the technology to find and reproduce stones of the highest standard of beauty. But there's something kind of cold and sad about chasing beauty defined only by numbers and standards." "You think it's sad?"

"Why? I wanna hear more! I wanna learn more about stones, but I have no idea where to even start. Honestly, I'm so happy right now that I don’t even know how to say it." "...You mean it?" I told her "thank you," and she flashed me a divinely sweet smile. Then she told me that she was the president of her high school geology club, and for some reason they'd given her the nickname "Golgo Tanimoto." I spent class with my head in the clouds, but afterward, we exchanged numbers. I finally, finally did it. And the cherry on top was that she invited me to join her for lunch. Campus was like an alternate dimension when we walked together. I was almost too happy. I had a hard time believing it was real. I felt like someone might throw water in my face at any moment to wake me up and tell me it was all a dream. Unfortunately, reality really did come knocking. "Excuse me, are you Mr. Seigi Nakata?" A man I'd never seen before stopped me just as we stepped out of the gate. He must've been about thirty. He had bright, childlike eyes* and wore an expensive suit. His clothes seemed suited to a more mundane job than Richard's. And, of course, I'd never met him before.

*for the sake of image count it’s not here but I annotated this ?? okay

"I am, but who are you?" "I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this, but I only need a moment of your time. It won't take long." "How did you know my name?" "I can explain, but let's go somewhere a little more private. If you don't mind." "Um, Seigi, maybe I should bow out here." "It's about the jewelry shop in Ginza. If you don't mind." The man didn't seem to pay any attention to how upset I looked. Clearly this guy didn't know what the phrase "If you don't mind," meant. Maybe Richard should give him a Japanese lesson. Painful as it was, I watched Tanimoto leave and followed the man into a local coffee shop. He ordered two coffees. Why am I here with a strange man and not Tanimoto? "...So, what do you want from me? Who are you?" "My name is Takashi Homura. I'm sorry for approaching you out of the blue like that." He handed me the second business card I'd ever received in my life. The first was, of course, Richard's. The company listed on the card was Homura Trading and the address was in Marunouchi—a business district with rents to rival Ginza's. I didn't ask, but he told me that he worked for his family business. Apparently, he was training to become assistant manager. I couldn't have cared less. He pulled a file from his leather bag and showed me a photo. It was a picture of him and a woman with long black hair. They stood in front of a fountain surrounded by tulips, awkwardly linking arms. The woman's face was familiar. She was Ms. Akashi, the woman who brought the ruby in for appraisal. "She's my fiancée. She came by the shop you work at part-time, right?" "...How do you know where I work?" "It's a long story, but I had someone investigate her recent activities. I'm sorry for scaring you." "You had 'someone' investigate her? You mean a private investigator, right? If one of my friends was dating someone like you, I'd tell her to break up with you because she could find someone better." "I can explain. You don't have to stay long, but please hear me out." He bowed deeply and began to explain. He'd met Ms. Akashi almost exactly a year ago. He fell in love with her when she started working for Homura Trading last spring, they got to know each other and eventually became engaged. The parents were on board, and they were on the verge of getting married. "But it's just not working out. She said yes, but she's been dragging her feet, and we're not getting anywhere on making arrangements. I was so excited for the ceremony, and we decided to hold it in August of this year, but there's no way it's happening at this rate. I think it's been going on way too long for it to just be anxiety about the wedding. It's driving my mother crazy... I told her she could just talk to me about it if there was some reason for all this, but she won't tell me anything. I didn't know what else to do." "Why are you coming to me about this? Your behavior is bizarre." "I'm not doing it anymore, but I had her followed for a month." "More like stalked." "During that month, the one thing she did that was different from her usual routine was visit the jewelry shop you work at." "So you decided to follow me to school?" "I'm so sorry. I'll get right to the point. If you have any idea why she was there, could you please tell me, if you don't mind? I just need some kind of clue, however small."

This was probably going to be my lunch. I really should have ordered some pasta so I wouldn't be distracted during my afternoon classes, but I didn't want to eat in front of this guy. He was so stressed I couldn't help feeling bad for him.

‘instantly’ is so funny to me seigi we were celebrating Top 20 #BITCH Moments hit after hit after hit after you were dragged away from tanimoto but NOW you ‘instantly’ feel bad. bleeding heart. bleeding heart who is also a bitch. silly guy Don’t kid yourself. also what’s the count on seigi mentioning richard apropos of anywhere from very little to literally nothing. it’s a lot right

"I don't expect you to understand. I know full well how selfish I'm being, but this was the only lead I had." "...Do you have any idea what your fiancée might have been doing in a jewelry shop?" "Last winter, I gave her a ruby. A brooch with diamond accents. She really liked it... or at least I thought she did when I gave it to her. Maybe I was wrong, though..." He trailed off. I thought so. She hadn't bought that brooch for herself. That's why she wanted to know if the stone had been heat treated and why she didn't know what it had cost. Maybe she really did intend to sell it. "Please. Not knowing is the worst thing in the world. I can't bear the thought of losing her." "Look, I'm sure Ms. Akashi has her reasons. Why can't you just accept that?" "Ms. Akashi?" Huh? The two of us referenced the photo again, and I pointed at Ms. Akashi. She did look a little less gaunt than she was when I saw her at Richard's shop, but her smile was identical—kind of stiff. "Isn't her name Mami Akashi?" "No, it's Mami Sasu." "Sasu?" The two of us exchanged confused looks. He definitely didn't look like he was lying, and he didn't have any reason to lie either. Which meant she'd used a fake name. "I wonder where she got the name 'Akashi' from. There's no one at the company with that name." "Maybe it's a relative's name?" "No, no one related to her is named that, either. Or... at least no one she introduced me to." Suddenly, he looked like an elementary schooler who'd been given the homework for someone in junior high. Funny, considering I thought he was a deplorable villain just moments ago. I thought back to Ms. Akashi storming in and out of the jewelry store. “...Sorry, I have to go. I've got class." I bowed and got up. I knew I couldn't stay there any longer. I'd probably already said something I shouldn't have. I hate this. I really hate it. I'd never shop at a place with an employee who'd sell out customers. I heard Mr. Homura say "thank you" as I left. If I were him, I wouldn't wanna thank the person secretly reporting on a person I loved. I didn't even know who the bad guy was in this situation: the man who hired a private detective to follow his girlfriend around, the woman who used a fake name to get a gemstone she was given as a gift appraised in secret, or the part-timer with loose lips? I left the coffee shop and noticed I'd gotten a text from Tanimoto. It was short, "Everything go okay? We should talk again sometime!" I was so, so happy. Too happy. I realized that if we did start dating and she started acting weird, I could see myself hiring a private investigator, too. I guessed the more you liked someone, the more it could go to your head. After I finished my afternoon classes, I made up my mind: The next time Ms. Akashi aka Ms. Sasu came to the shop, the first thing I would do was tell her what happened today and apologize. She would probably be mad, and I was sure Richard would fire me, but it was the right thing to do.

I’d never shop at a place with an employee who’d sell out customers This is a massive massive gun to me. just horribly massive gun. give it like uhhh six or seven novels? don’t remember Just trust me. anyway refer to phoenixheadinhands Anyway anyway this one was marked in place by richard-gets-slammed.png

"Hold on, Seigi." My eyes went wide at Richard's response, and the person in the leather jacket glared at me. They had on skinny jeans and combat boots. I went back down the stairs, taking a ready stance on the white cobblestone. As the assailant slowly made their way down the stairs onto the sunlight walkway, I realized why I thought my ears were playing tricks on me when they spoke—the attacker was a woman. She was much smaller than Richard, too. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. It was blonde fading to purple at the ends. She wore bright red lipstick and had sharp eyes. “‘This your shop? Which one of you is the dirty, woman-stealing bastard?” She must've been in her twenties, and she really looked like she belonged more in Harajuku than Ginza. Why on earth was someone like that attacking Richard? Richard fixed his shirt and came downstairs. The suitcase he was never seen without was fine. It didn't seem like the assailant had been trying to steal the gems. “...Lover's quarrel?” "Don't be foolish, I've never met this woman before."

You two are sick.

Apparently, she'd come at him just as he was about to enter the shop. Bizarre. The strange woman glared at me beneath the dull shine of the overcast sky. "You wanna go? This is gonna be fun. Come at me. Underestimate me and you'll regret it." "I'm opposed to using violence against women. Please state your business.["]

💥💥💥

- another gun

["]Who is this 'woman-stealing bastard' you're so concerned about? And just who are you?" "Tatsuki Akashi. Twenty-seven years old. I'm a bassist working as a studio musician in Shibuya." Akashi? This Tatsuki Akashi opened her wallet and took out a photo to show us. It was a picture of two women, having fun in what looked like a bar. "Do you know this woman? Tell me everything you know, I don't care how minor. I've got a situation I'm dealing with." The photo was of Tatsuki Akashi, wearing a Japanese national football team uniform, with a big smile on her face and an arm around none other than Mami Sasu. Just as I was getting over the shock of that revelation, I heard someone drop something on the path behind me. It was a brown shoulder bag. And a long-haired woman was standing there. Mami Sasu. Tatsuki reacted first. Mami tried to run, but Tatsuki chased after her and grabbed her hand. "Mami! I finally found you!" "Let go of me! I don't want anything to do with you anymore!" "Do you have any idea how worried I was?! How dare you just up and disappear like that!" The two women began to grapple in the middle of the street. This was not good. Not good at all—but just as that thought crossed my mind, a black taxi pulled up in front of the building. Takashi got out, clearly panicked. "What is wrong with you?! Get away from Mami!" "Oh, are you the woman-stealing bastard? Finally, we meet. You better clench your damn teeth!" "Don't! He's my fiancé!" Mami shouted.

okay did you guys know that the very first episode of La rosa de Guadalupe is rated a 4.8/10 on imdb. I never did watch it as a kid. I’ll tell you what though if I’m remembering faces right a telenovela I DID watch as a kid before or maybe overlapping with the ncisification of our household television time was Por ella soy Eva which I’m sure had no subconscious effects on me and who I am as a person now. Anyway. mess like this would net a way higher score than 4.8/10 on imdb. this was a visual gag before but you gotta understand I'm really stretching that 30 photo maximum

There was only one location in the area that could qualify as a café and was completely free. The owner of the devastatingly handsome face shot the three quarreling adults an ice-cold glare. "I will allow you to use my shop to settle this dispute on the condition that you do not damage anything inside. Understood?" The three of them all looked in different directions and nodded.

always so beautiful to see seigi in my minds eye standing just far enough away from the epicenter of mess. so beautiful for it to not be his fault for once

[…] I hastily prepared four glasses of barley tea from our stock. I didn't really feel like they needed to be served tea like they were customers, but I figured having drinks on the table might keep things a little more in check. Admittedly, that was just for my own peace of mind. Tatsuki and Takashi were seated across from each other in the four-piece lounge set. Richard had taken off his jacket and sat down next to Tatsuki, and across from him was Mami Sasu. I didn't have a chair, so I just stood by the table. I had a good view of everyone's faces from that position. Mami's hands and face looked almost uncannily pale as she sat in the chair, staring intently at her hands clenched in her lap. "Mami and I have been seeing each other for seven years. We were even living together until the winter of the year before last." ...Why did you have to mention that now?" "Because you up and left without telling me!" "Keep your voices down. This is my place of business, not a prison visitation room." Tatsuki hung her head a bit, ashamed, before continuing. She explained that in winter of the year before last, Mami, who she'd been living with up until that point, suddenly disappeared from their apartment. Her phone number had been disconnected and all her contact information had changed, and she'd gotten rid of all her things. Tatsuki frantically searched for her, to no avail. Just as she'd concluded that she must have left the city, a colleague of hers mentioned that they'd spotted a long-haired woman who resembled Mami in Ginza. Tatsuki couldn't contain herself and rushed over. This all happened to line up today. The worst of all possible days for such a coincidence. Tatsuki said they'd been "seeing each other" for seven years. You wouldn't phrase it like that to your friend's fiancé if you were just friends and roommates. More than anything, the vibe between them definitely didn't seem to be just friendship. So it was probably exactly what it sounded like.

refer to phoenixheadinhands.

"I'm sorry for tryin' to beat your ass earlier. All the info I had to go on was that there was an 'unbelievably hot man running a strange store' and that they'd 'seen Mami go into it.' The blood just went straight to my head. You really are unbelievably hot, but there's nothing strange about this store." "I'm flattered that you think so, but I would suggest trying to use your words before you grab someone by the collar next time."

Okay richard do you wanna take this time to maybe reflect on why seigi called you narcissistic earlier

"Um, Ms. Akashi, was it? Just what are you to Mami?" Takashi threw a straight ball, though I got the sense that he probably didn't even know how to throw a curve ball. He seemed the calmest next to Richard, even if that was ultimately just a front. Tatsuki stared at him intently. "Would you be asking the same question if I were a man?" Takashi flushed and hung his head, embarrassed, as she threw a straight ball right back at him. Before she could press the topic further, Mami mumbled, "I fell in love with a man. That's why I broke up with you." An icy chill hung over the shop.

Sorry everyone but can we please stop doing this. it’s killing the vibe. is anybody even drinking seigi’s tea

Richard and I exchanged silent glances and remained focused on Tatsuki's behavior. I really wasn't in the mood to have to kick someone out for causing trouble. ...What are you talking about? You were just going to toss me aside like I mean nothing to you to be with him? Bullshit!" "I was trying to be realistic about my future." "You always did mistake pessimism for realism. You're just a coward. Or is the old, 'normal is better' Mami back again? I certainly haven't missed that side of you." "We couldn't keep living together like we were going to be young forever. I'd just found a new job and everything. It was perfect. You don't mean anything to me anymore. I want to start over. Just forget about us and move on with your life." "Let me stop you there," Richard interrupted. The more Mami spoke, the sicker she looked, and she never so much as glanced at Tatsuki through the whole thing. With wide-open eyes and through gritted teeth, Tatsuki let out a little, "I see how it is. ...So, I don't mean anything to you, huh? Fine. But you listen here, Mami, that's not even what I'm mad about. We were dating. Dating. Remember? For seven years. Why couldn't you have said one word—just one word—to me before you up and vanished? I thought you might be dead. I thought maybe you got mixed up in something crazy and were lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I went to the police. I talked to all your old friends. Awful thoughts kept me up at night. I was driving myself crazy asking myself if it was my fault." "Well, that's all on you." "Just calm down, both of you. Please." I tried to mediate in a low tone, but really, I was thinking about something entirely different. Part of Tatsuki's story didn't seem to add up. Mami met Takashi in the spring of last year. If that was also when they started dating, then Mami would have left Tatsuki's apartment the previous winter before she met Takashi. But then, why did she come into the shop using "Akashi" instead of "Sasu"? Richard must've noticed this as well but politely held his tongue. If I was going to make up for the mistake I made when Takashi caught me at school, this was my only chance. But the moment the thought crossed my mind— "Mami, why did you use the name 'Akashi' when you came here?" Takashi beat me to it.

man would it kill you to just sit quiet for once. once in your damn life.

Mami had a look of abject despair on her face. She'd gone from white as a sheet to the color of death. She glanced at Richard and then at me, grimacing. There was no way she couldn't know whose fault that was. There was probably nothing I could possibly do to earn her forgiveness at that point. Tatsuki was baffled. "What? Akashi? What's he talking about, Mami?" I couldn't say that Mami looked like she was enjoying herself in Takashi's photo from that spring, even if I was trying to be generous. But in Tatsuk's photo of her, she looked happy and healthy—almost like a different person entirely. "This situation seems to be more complicated than I thought, so let me explain my side. She and I have been engaged for a year, and the wedding is set for August. But I have a proposal." "Oh, shut up. Just get married or whatever." "Mami, I don't mind if you cheat on me," Takashi said. For a moment, I thought Takashi had lost his mind. Tatsuki seemed to have the same reaction, and the two of us just sat there in a state of wordless shock. Mami looked up, her face expressionless. Takashi smiled, like a young father trying to reassure his small child. It was a forced smile though. You could see it in his eyes. "I do feel a bit sad that you never talked to me about your past, but I know you had your reasons. But I have a suggestion: Couldn't you think of love and marriage as separate things? I love you, and that'll never change, no matter what happens. You can just marry me and keep going out with Ms. Akashi if you like. Then everything can proceed as planned." His smile sent a chill down my spine. He's proposing that his fiancée date someone else? What does marrying Mami Sasu actually mean to this man? What does he even like about her?

refer to phoenixheadinhands.

Tatsuki clicked her tongue, breaking the silence. "Who the hell is this little rich boy anyway? Gimme a damn break, do you even hear what you're saying?" "I do. I can simply think of an affair with another woman as her having a 'very good friend' rather than romance. It won't bother me." "Well, I'm sayin' it'll bother me!" "I believe Mami already said that you don't mean anything to her anymore." Tatsuki snapped. Richard intervened after Takashi took a punch to the jaw. He was about to get into it with her, and if we let him, the situation would have devolved into complete chaos from there. I got him in an armlock when he stood up, but he still fought me. Before I knew it, Mami had stood up and grabbed her bag. "Mami! Wait!" She glared at me in response and ran down the stairs. While the cat and mouse were fighting, the cheese ran away. I felt like I'd seen a cartoon like that when I was a kid.

jesus. how could this get worse, I hear you asking. Ha ha ha ha ha

"I have some idea. I'm sure I could track her down." "Please do. Let me help." "Seigi," Richard softly scolded me. My one saving grace was the fact that we had no other appointments that day. Though it was beyond too late, I confessed that I'd told Takashi her name when he ambushed me as I was leaving campus. I thought Tatsuki might hit me, too, but she was just flabbergasted. "Richard, I'm so sorry. I know you put your trust in me. Take it out of my wages for today or fire me, whatever you think is appropriate. I'll do whatever's necessary to apologize to Mami."

Tatsuki and I rushed out of the shop at the same time. When we got downstairs, she tossed a card at me. It had the logo of a bass clef on it, along with her contact information. "I'll search Shibuya. Check any place you wouldn't think twice about a young woman being alone! If Mami dies, I'm gonna kill you, that Homura guy, and your boss!" Tatsuki slipped into the parking lot behind the building and reappeared in front of the store on a motorcycle, racing down the street. I looked up at Richard's jewelry shop, brought my hands together, and bowed my head before running toward the subway station.

[BOMB] [BOMB] [GUNFIRE] [EXPLOSIONS] [WILHELM SCREAM] also étranger treated as a place to pray to Seigi I’m gonna fucking get you. I’m gonna get you.

[マヨらサーティンreference.png] <- keeping that marker in actually

There’s just something about knowing the person you like believes in you that gives you strength.

If I hadn't said anything to Takashi back then, things wouldn't have gotten this bad. I knew regretting it now wouldn't change anything, but I did desperately want a chance to make it right.

I asked people if they'd seen a woman with long black hair who seemed kind of unwell but came up empty-handed. Just as I was trying to figure out what to do next, I got a text. It was from Tatsuki.

"Asakusa Shrine. We'd go there every year for the first shrine visit of the year. If you're close, take a look around there, please. There was an accident in Sangenjaya, so the line's stopped. I won't be able to leave for a while."

Asakusa. I could get there on the Ginza Line. Takashi must've had his hands full searching Tokyo Station. I replied that I'd take the express line from Ueno and hurried down into the subway.

Asakusa was crowded with tourists going to see the Skytree on a Saturday afternoon. I slipped under the massive paper lantern. The stalls were so crowded that it looked like a theme park. Kimono shops, Ningyo-yaki stalls, candied fruit sellers.

I made it back to the main hall of Senso-ji. Immediately to its right was Asakusa Shrine.

The grounds of the shrine were so peaceful and quiet, it was hard to imagine the hustle and bustle of the shopping arcade was just a few hundred feet away. The guardian lion-dog statues seemed to be almost lounging atop the white sand—and there was a woman with long black hair sitting on a bench. She was holding something that looked like a milk carton, with her legs splayed out comfortably. She waved when she noticed me. I let out a weird sound.

"Mami!"

My feet sank into the white sand as I ran across the grounds. I couldn't even laugh about it. I sat down next to her, and Mami set the carton she'd been drinking at her feet. It had "sake" written on it and was mostly empty.

"Did Tatsuki send you here? You guys really don't know how to respect a person's privacy."

"Sorry. I mean it, I'm really sorry. This is all my fault. Richard had nothing to do with it."

"I know. I don't really care anymore." She laughed.

She looked desperate. She probably didn't want Tatsuki or Takashi to see her like that.

"This reminds me of the first shrine visit of the year. This place is always full of people. Tatsuki's family makes kimono, so every year, we'd get dressed up for our visit. People would always tell us we looked so pretty or ask if we were sisters, which would make Tatsuki a little mad, of course. She can be so funny... You know about otakiage events, right? People would bring the talismans they kept in their homes for the past year to this place to be burned and honored in a memorial service. There's always a huge pile of charms and talismans to burn…"

"I'm going to call both of them. Tatsuki and Takashi are both very worried about you."

"Just let me talk a little more. You can call them after. It doesn't really matter."

"Yes, it does matter! They're both frantically searching for you!"

"Every time I would see that pile, I'd find myself wishing someone would burn me up, too."

Mami coughed. I was about to call them when she reached out for my phone to stop me.

I knew she didn't really want to talk to me alone. She didn't really want to talk to anyone.

"...So are you just gonna sit here drinking forever?"

"That wasn't the plan at least. I wanted to finally make a decision."

She stared off into space with a dreamy look on her face as she continued. She wasn't even looking at me, "I thought I could make it work, but I guess I was wrong. In my head, I knew what I needed to do, but I couldn't make my body cooperate. I couldn't sleep. I tried to eat, but it'd all just come right back up. I started losing weight to the point that it was just disgusting. Takashi is such a nice man, too... I guess I was just never going to be capable of marrying a man. I hate myself."

"What's the big deal? You don't have to force yourself to get married! Plus, utilitarian relationships are the furthest thing in the world from romance—that's what my boss thinks at least."

"Do you think I don't know that? It doesn't matter what anyone else says, though. I don't like myself, and I'll never be happy with the way I am. I always wanted to be a normal woman who got married to a man she loves and lived happily ever after, and I've always despised myself for not being that person."

"It doesn't matter, Tatsuki..."

Mami let out another weird cough mid-sentence. She seemed unsteady.

“…I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble. This had nothing to do with you, but I didn't see any other way."

"Any other way?"

Just as I asked that, she collapsed onto the white sand. The empty paper carton toppled over without a sound, and a plastic bag full of empty pill packages fell out of her brown shoulder bag. Alcohol and pills. This was her plan from the start.

"Mami!"

I shouted at her and smacked her cheeks, but she wouldn't wake up. I don't know what to do. Make her throw it up? But how? I had no idea. Hospital. I have to get her to a hospital. Ambulance.

I started running as I called for an ambulance on my phone. I didn't see anyone in the nearby shrine office. I ran to the closest food stall, looking for help, and they told me there was a hospital in the back. The back? The back where? There were plenty of elements here designed to mourn the dead—Kaminarimon, the garden, the pagoda, the temple, the shrine. This wasn't a joke. Where the hell is the hospital?

The back wheels of the vehicle rolled up onto the white sand as the metal steed abruptly changed course.

okay richard who’s the knight in shining armor NOW?

She arrived precisely on time for her appointment: Saturday at eleven 'o clock. The royal milk tea was just the right temperature.

"We've been expecting you. Please have a seat."

Mami had cut her long hair to just below her ears.

She looked much healthier than when I first met her, but that wasn't the only reason she seemed more cheerful than before. She looked me right in the eye and smiled.

"It's been ages. Have you been well? You know, I nearly died in Asakusa last month."

"I'm well aware. That isn't very funny.["]

well to be honest with you it’s pretty funny to me. Sorry

"The stone is 3.05 carats, AAA grade, originating from Mogok in Myanmar. It has not been heat treated. Ten million yen would be a conservative valuation."

I almost dropped the tray of tea. Ten million. Ten million. The stone she so casually dumped at the shop was worth ten million yen.

Mami seemed only a little shocked by the value. She let out a half-hearted "I see," and looked at the brooch that had finally been returned to her. She looked as though she were staring in a mirror.

[…]

Her hand under the jewelry box shifted, making the pigeon blood stone glimmer in the light.

"I also read that because we've only had heat treating technology for a few decades, no one knows what will happen to the stones in a century or so. Is that true?"

"If we're talking about modern heat treatment technology, it's conceivable someone may have said that. However, rubies have undergone heat treatment for over three hundred years. The process has a long history."

"The history of the pursuit of beauty, you could say."

Mami forced an awkward smile, went silent for a moment, and then began to mutter.

"I didn't regret my decision. I always wanted to be that girl. I didn't think what I was doing was wrong. But... as the wedding got closer, I started to feel afraid of my choice for the first time. And that's why I wanted to have the ruby checked."

She explained that if the ruby turned out to be heat treated, she would go through with the wedding. But if it wasn't, she'd rethink what she was doing. I guess that's what she meant by using it to tell her fortune. What on earth?

"Don't you have that backwards? I mean, a beautiful, untreated stone is way more valuable."

"All the more reason I shouldn't marry someone who would give me something like that. If only he'd given me some cheap trinket instead..."

I was so confused, my eyebrows started to twitch. Richard didn't say a word. Mami seemed to misunderstand the reason I was frowning.

"He's not a bad person. Sure, I was surprised he hired a private investigator, but it came from a good place. He might lose his cool sometimes, but... he really is a kind person."

I still wasn't sure exactly what sort of guy Takashi was. There were plenty of things about his behavior I wasn't crazy about, but he didn't seem irredeemably horrible, either. But that was probably why she considered marrying him.

don’t worry seigi look me in my eyes. You’ll never have to think about homura-san eeeever again after this. never ever.

"You must be tired from all that talking. Please, have some tea."

Mami took a sip of the tea at Richard's behest, and her eyes went wide. She stared at me.

"This is really good. Thank you."

"I learned how to make it from my boss," I said triumphantly.

Mami forced a smile and turned to Richard, "I believe you told him something to the effect of, 'utilitarian relationships aren't love.' That's a pretty powerful sentiment."

Richard shrugged, "You actually remembered that?"

I made an awkward expression, and Mami said to me with a smile, "Thank you for saving my life. It feels strange to be able to say that now, when I've wanted to die for such a long time."

She said it again. I had to wonder if she was really all right.

refer to phoenixheadinhands.

Richard pulled out the identification report and pointed to the "client" field. Mami's eyes went wide. It said "Mami Akashi."

"Could I trouble you to correct this? I do have to ask though, why did you use a false name?"

"...I'm so sorry. I don't even know, myself. I would use that name for fun when I was living with Tatsuki. Not that I've even said it at all recently..."

Mami took another sip of the royal milk tea I'd made. I couldn't say she was completely happy and free of worry, but she did look relieved. But what do I know, really?

"Um, so I don't mind if you don't want to answer this question, but why did you think it would be a good idea to force yourself to get married to a man?"

seigi loves to start an incredibly personal question like あのう…

"Why? Because that is what's considered 'normal' to most people in the world."

I looked confused. Mami continued.

"Do any of your friends live with their same-sex partner? Probably not, right? I'm not even talking about discrimination or harassment but the constant exhaustion of knowing you're not 'normal.' It's like trying to grow vegetables in the middle of the desert. I always wondered why I had to go through all this hardship that other people didn't, but maybe that's ultimately a grass-is-always-greener kind of thing."

"I mean, there are plenty of people who never get married, too."

"I know."

Mami told us about how she was raised. Don't cause other people trouble. Don't stand out too much. Live a normal life. Go to a normal school. Get married and have kids like a normal person. Raise them like normal. Grow old like normal. She was taught that this was the most comfortable, least remarkable, most trouble-free way to live. For example, she was taught to keep herself at a standard retail size when it came to clothing. Medium. The size that most people wear.

When she was on a school trip in junior high, a massive typhoon hit. Her home was destroyed, and her entire family died. News all over the country covered it as an unfortunate incident.

"That made me stand out a lot," she said, smiling while hardly moving the rest of her face. "Tatsuki and I are polar opposites. She hates 'normal.' She's the kind of person who makes her own clothes. I found it charming when we met, but when we lived together, we were so poor. I couldn't see a future for us, so I couldn't help thinking that maybe 'normal' really was better. I wanted to have an easier life. That's why I went back to full-time work, too."

"But it wasn't easier at all, was it?"

"Sure wasn't. Deathly so."

Mami laughed. Her laugh sounded so much brighter than her desperate voice back at the shrine, but I couldn't help still feeling worried for her.

"I don't think you should try that again. There are people who might die of grief if something were to happen to you. You'll be doing them a favor by valuing yourself more. This is starting to sound like a lecture, but I really mean it. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"You're probably right, but you know, it's still pretty hard to believe. It's weird, isn't it? I'm a total stranger with no family to speak of, but there are people I hurt just by treating myself like garbage."

"It is pretty weird. But when you love someone from the bottom of your heart, it changes you. I think that's only natural. I mean, maybe that's just what love is, right?"

But there was just something about her in that moment, like she felt unbearably sad, guilty, and heartrendingly happy all at the same time.

Mami wiped her eyes and looked at me like a displeased queen. "You don't look that much younger than me. Has anyone ever told you how presumptuous you are?"

"Sounds like somebody's just being a little childish to me."

"You know, you really are insufferable. Even if you did save my life."

I smirked, and Mami let out a slightly bashful laugh. That was the first time I felt like I could understand how the people who spent that day running around Tokyo and crying over her felt.* She really was charmingly awkward.

*- guy who spent that day running around tokyo over her. seeeiiiiigiiiiiii........

My boss, who had been silently listening the whole time, nodded, took a sip of his tea, and set the cup down.

"Ms. Sasu, do you know what a carat is?"

"You mean like how this ruby is 3.05 carats?" Mami confirmed.

"Exactly," Richard nodded. Then he looked at me, "Seigi, do you still remember what carats measure?"

“...They're a unit of measure for the weight of gemstones. One carat is 0.2 grams."

He replied with a "bravo." The question made me remember the time I'd asked him why they used carats and not grams. It was the day Mami showed up in the store for the first time.

"It's said that jewelers in ancient Greece used carob seeds to measure the weight of stones. Each of those seeds weighed around 0.2 grams. In Greek, the word for carob seed is 'kerátion,' which eventually became the word carat as we know it today."

One seed. One carat. I imagined someone with curly hair and dressed in a toga, placing seeds on a scale against a gemstone. I guessed seeds and gemstones were pretty similar in scale in terms of size and weight.

"In short, the carat is a unit of measurement created by jewelers specifically for gemstones and used exclusively for gemstones. It may not have the broad utility of centimeters and kilograms, but it's still useful for weighing gems. Of course, you could convert it to grams, but personally I find a world with a variety of diverse units of measurement much more comfortable, beautiful, and rich for it."

Mami giggled, like she understood something.

"Despite your cool and collected demeanor, you're quite passionate, aren't you? Well, I hope to be someone who makes the world a richer place, too."

:)

"Everyone has their own universe, but the main difference is whether they turn their back on it or embrace it to cultivate it into a deep, bountiful sea. You mentioned using the stone to tell your fortune earlier, but the thing is, gemstones are mirrors that reflect their owners. You would have never received an answer that you didn't already desire."

“......"

"Ms. Sasu, I believe you already had your answer the moment you set foot in this shop."

“…I guess I'm the only one who didn't know that."

Richard flashed her a gentle smile that reminded me of a calm sea. I was kind of shocked to learn he could make an expression like that. Mami smiled meekly. She was a pretty impressive person to be able to ignore that face of his.

then here comes gayboy interrupting a tender moment of connection anyway #LESBIAN

"So, about the charge for the identification report. How much was it again?"

[…]

"It's on the house. I believe what you need right now isn't fine jewelry but to turn your gaze inward to your own sparkling beauty. Should the day come that you desire a gemstone that matches your own inner luster, please contact me. I promise I'll find you the perfect piece."

"Thank you. You've really gone above and beyond for me."

Mami bowed deeply, put the brooch away in her shoulder bag, and left the shop.

I was still a little worried, so after a moment, I poked my head out to watch her leave. I was greeted by the rev of a motorcycle engine as a bike with two people on it sped past.

“...You know, I've thought this ever since we were coming back from Kobe on the Shinkansen, but you really are a bleeding heart, aren't you? You care more about your customers' well-being than profit. Or are you thinking about how you sometimes have to take a loss to profit in the long run?"

"I'm not sure you'd call this a loss. I made a connection with Mr. Homura."

"With Takashi?"

"I met with him once more after the incident. His family are avid jewelry collectors. We already have plans for me to show them several pieces when next we meet."

I shouldn't have expected anything less from a globe-trotting salesman. If someone had a stone that incredible to begin with, landing them as a customer would probably be profitable in the end. He did sound a little embarrassed about it, though.

"What'd Takashi say?"

"Just that if I had any good stones, he wanted to see them. That's all."

“...Huh."

- words that won’t be of any consequence several novels from now

He was a pretty baffling person, too. I still couldn't believe he told someone he was really in love with that he didn't care if she cheated on him. Though at the same time, if you were really, painfully in love with someone who was truly hopeless... I could see how you might come to the conclusion that it didn't matter if you weren't number one in their heart, as long as you could be by their side. No matter what form that took, or how much you had to give up. I felt like I could understand that a little, at least.

But only just a little. I wasn't saying I understood pain so bad that it made you want to die.

"Prejudice isn't a question of preference but one of whether you are offering other human beings the bare minimum courtesy of treating them as human."

Richard cleared his throat when I said that was what I loved about him.

everybody do me a favor and look up 'hayao miyazaki smoking stressed'. thanks. Seigi I kind of hope you die

Richard looked at me like he was waiting for something, and I just smiled at him. "You know, you really are shockingly handsome, even when you frown."

The implication being, "test me all you like." I had reflected on my actions after that incident, after all.

STOP! ❌ ✋ 🛑 🙅 🚫 ALTO! SEIGI ヤメロ

Suddenly the displeased look left Richard's face and was replaced with a smile—like flipping a switch. It was strange, though, like a doll made of ice smiling. So beautiful it was terrifying.

"Thank you very much. I think I have a thorough understanding of where you're coming from."

"D-do you now? Well, good. You know, you're kinda… scary right now."

"We've run out of our stock of sweets. Would you run out and buy some more?"

dumb stupid idiot’s Last Ever Task. how the fuck am I gonna fit all these photos. Oh well

"This is too much. I can't buy all this. What are you thinking?"

Just as I fired off that text, another one came in. It wasn't from Richard. My heart skipped a beat the moment I saw the name "Tanimoto."

"Hi, Seigi! Is it true that you were in a sports car in Asakusa? My friend who works at a shop near the temple said the driving was incredible! Sounds like it was a really interesting game of hide-and-seek!"

What a misunderstanding. What a massive misunderstanding. And it was already being embellished in the telling.

I didn't even want to look at it. I didn't even notice that I was on a different message chain when I fired off a reply.

"Is that sports car yours, Seigi? Show it to me sometime!"

I'd sent my "got it!" in reply to Tanimoto's message.

The phrase "just deserts" came to mind.

it really should be ‘just desserts’ given our circumstances

I bought everything on the list and returned to the shop where Richard greeted me like everything was normal. He hadn't done anything wrong. Really, he hadn't.

(he had.)

It was all my own fault.

(it was.)

I'd understood the point he made but failed to put it into practice.

boy did you.

and that concludes this edition of Seigi Sunday on “The Ruby of Truth”. on this [punctual] [Sunday].

[alumirp]

White Blood, Red Teeth

a story where Luffy is constantly found by his friends having overdoses. It's a terrible behavior that started after Ace's death and everyone thinks it's a horrible coping method and finally gets together to admit him to a rehabilitation clinic. It's against his will, of course, so he resists and has withdrawal attacks and it's so bad that he goes on a hunger strike and loses a huge amount of weight and subsequently ends up with deteriorating health. A year and a half later, finally, after all this, the clinic considers him rehabilitated, although he is still underweight and doesn't eat as much as he should, but everyone is sure that Luffy will never look for drugs again. They are wrong and less than forty-eight hours after being released from the clinic, Zoro and Sanji find Luffy having another overdose in the bathroom of the apartment the three share. This time, the two decide to take a more aggressive approach and go after Luffy's drug dealer. Luffy is always talking about the guy, whom he calls Torao, who supposedly helped him cope with Ace's death. Whenever asked what he's on, Luffy responds "Torao's white blood", which Zoro and Sanji assume is the name of some homemade drug or something. Whatever it is, this Torao guy, is clearly taking advantage of Luffy's grief. to make a profit, so they stop at the drug dealer's address, almost knocking down the door, ready to give this guy 'Torao' a good beating and deliver him directly into the hands of Luffy's grandfather, a half-crazy police officer. They are surprised when the person who answers the door is a guy who goes by the name Penguin, who, strangely enough, lets them in easily after discovering that they are Luffy's friends. The house is nice, clean, airy, comfortable and cozy, everything you don't expect from a drug dealer's house. The place looks practically sterile in a hospital kind of way, which makes sense when they are finally introduced to the infamous Torao, a tall, malnourished guy who walks around on an IV. They confront 'Torao', who introduces himself as actually being Trafalgar Law, about the drugs he has been giving Luffy and the effects it has on their friend and, strangely, are surprised when: Law says he has never given drugs a Luffy and b: Law is surprised and then irritated when he is told about the "Toraos white blood" thing. Law then sighs and surprisingly takes off his shirt and displays his torso, covered in deep, fresh-looking bites, and proceeds to explain the craziest story of all time: Vampires are real and Luffy was turned into one the day Ace died. Law found him, injured and starving, and saved his life. He then explains that he is sick, his blood was infected from a young age with amber lead and he was living on borrowed time, so he had no qualms about feeding Luffy his blood. But they were both taken by surprise by the fact that, every time Luffy fed on him, his condition unexpectedly improved. But Law had no idea that his blood caused Luffy to overdose. He knew that there seemed to be a factor that made him somewhat dependent and Luffy was always lethargic in the first few minutes after feeding, but he never thought that his blood was acting as a drug for Luffy's undead organism. That's why in the year and a half that Luffy simply disappeared, Law, and his friends, simply thought that the vampire had gotten tired of helping Law and had left. They had been surprised when, last night, Luffy appeared out of nowhere on their doorstep and promptly attacked Law, feeding on him until Law was barely able to stay awake. Furthermore, in the time that Luffy was gone, Law's condition simply deteriorated terribly and he was practically convinced that he wouldn't make it until the end of the year. And now, they have to find a way to balance Luffy's feeding so that Law can survive, but in such a way that Luffy doesn't suffer side effects either. Everything becomes a mess when Robin, a mysterious friend of Zoro, gets involved, announcing that in fact, Law has been cursed by a witch.

[weaselbeaselpants]

If I were a cartoon review youtuber, some of my videos would definitely be:

Underrated Animated films you should see vol. 1 - ongoing

Complete look at Skunk Fu! and all it's episodes

What's ACTUALLY wrong with Illumination films (spoiler: it's not the designs). And that video would probably have a sequel ironically unironically accusing Chris Meladandri of being a White Walker who rips out movies' souls.

Disturbing Animated Film Iceberg.

A calming, sweet short retrospective on The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends.

Killing off the idea of "endgame". Tho, tbf, I'm definitely going to be writing that thesis statement down someday. I guess in video format it'd be a big "did this series REALLY fall off cuz the creator catered to fans?" breakdown of a few shows.

A video about 9. Because of course I'd make something about 9.

Politically heavy (but not horror) animated films.

An essay explaining the difference between what I want to see in a story vs what's actually good in a story; and likewise the difference between what I personally do/don't find offensive and what's objectively offensive as a viewer.

The dichotomy and standards between different talking animal films.

A review about Mary and Max and why I like it but it's okay if other autists don't. which would be a broader video about how to listen to the opinions of demographics and minorities and not to treat any one as a hivemind.

Movies that I dislike but aren't actually bad.

Movies I love that aren't really all that good.

A deeper dive on my take that Steven Universe was always deeply flawed but having an otherwise working ending; where Star vs was a well-written show that utterly biffed it on the ending.

The Swan Princess is secret conservative propaganda.

The 31 dumbest things in Oogies Revenge.

Zero's Journey is the only good TNBC continuation.

13 Horror animated Feature Films. For Halloween, of course...

My issue with Dreamworks' stans and why I dislike How to Train You Dragon 2.

My issues with Anti v Proshipping. Def would be a multi part series explaining why I think most of the problem is just people really aggresively bulling one another -AND THEN, getting into heinous fandom shit that no one talks about and the ethics of children online and freedom of expression.

Prolly then would make an exclusive (cuz it's dirty) review abt the rights of r34 and adult artists and what they had to/have to put up with both from peers and websites banning explicit material.

What absolutely doesn't work about Pocahontas and Anastasia.

I'd do a series called "Spitball Re-haul" wherein I go through a revisioned show's premise and then explain all the reasons for the changes. I'd make:

How I'd rewrite The Owl House season 3.

How I'd rewrite Star vs the Forces of Evil "Cleaved".

How I'd rewrite Strange Magic.

How I'd rewrite Raya and the Last Dragon.

How I'd rewrite Seasons 4-8 of Friendship is Magic.

My tinfoil hat video on Disney trying to profit so much off of fans is hurting their bases.

Mapping out and analyzing different types of crossover fiction, their merits and their issues with story-keeping.

Mythological and cultural animated films.

and finally, for when I'd muster up the strength:

an HBomberGuy-type callout/deepdive into MysteriousMrEnter and Lily Orchard and how they've made cartoon reviews worse.

[ellevandersneed]

the scared, wrinkle skinned infant, that yolk barely gestated but kicking and screaming on this earth for 25 years deep inside me next to my heart and lungs: "we gotta find away to turn our late night melancholy into abstract humor! likes equals profits! attention is money, time is meaningless! we can't die, someone please tell me we can't die!"

the watchful owl, with its claws flecked with mouseblood and dripplings of red staining the white feathers under its beak. the wise owl who was never wise, was only an animal pretending, because she was told she had to be the wise owl because all owls are wise and because you seem wise you must be an owl and because you seem like an owl you must therefore be wise. the owl replies to the infant, her eyes flashing: "what is to be gained by talking? what do we gain through attention? what does it mean to gain anything? Shouldn't you know better by now? Don't look at me, I'm you! I can only know as much as you do. But, what I know and what I think are different things. I think you will not be happy if all you do is tell jokes. I think you will remain a weak little scrap of flesh if you forget that time is passing, if you forget that death is around the corner. I think its time you remember your mistakes. Slow down, slow down."

The owls eyes widen and close as the infant looks up at her, beads of sweat sliding in and out of folded skin. The baby is so old, suddenly. The hairs on its head appear thin, limp. The pudge of his cheeks have begun to droop, gravity has taken its toll. The crows feet peck at the corners of his eyes and the bags beneath his eyes carry decades.

"Do you remember," said the Owl, " when I tried to eat you? I wanted you to shut up. I was sick of your snivelling and your short sighted dreams. I thought that the salt from your constant tears would keep you flavorful and your hot running blood would have boiled your insides perfectly. When you passed through the stones in my gizzard, I thought everything was finally over and that I could live freely and stretch my wings. I was happy to wander and to hunt and kill as I pleased. But one day I opened my mouth and your voice came out. And I started noticing it again and again. In an old barn I found a mirror and saw that my body had become translucent, and you were right there, in one piece, next to my heart and lungs, stretching and kicking and howling as you always had. Do you remember how I forced you back out and vomited your wet, sorry flesh back onto the floor of our house? I am stuck with you, and you with me. We are happy prisoners in here. Can we not compromise?"

She spoke as if she had both rehearsed this moment and was speaking of it for the first time. There was a measure to her voice, a sort of croon. Yet, some of the words were pronounced wrong. The measure broke and reformed and broke like the bones of an arm doomed to a life of chronic pain. The infant closed his eyes and, of course, cried. The infant only knew three states of being: he wanted to be a child forever and this he achieved: second, he wanted the current moment, whatever that may be, to last forever; thirdly, he wanted to close his eyes and wake in the future, expecting to be a different thing that he is now. States one and two are quite similar, but with the key difference being the understanding that only the second state is obtainable, if only temporarily. He doesn't really want to be a child, just to stop drifting further away from childhood. He is happy being immature but never childish. The three states of being are all happening simultaneously. They are called "The Was, The Moment, and The Time After." When they are held together tightly, and bound by the string that binds all things in the metaphysical, or better yet the space between the mind and the body and the world, the fourth place they call it, they may be called "The Want." The Owl gave them these names.

The Owl knew all of this, and was narrating. Or she thought she was. This is the failed wisdom of the Owls of the world. The moment of coming up short. Who is else speaking now but the whole, the entire being. This is not the same as when the Owl swallowed the infant, as one had tried to stifle the other and thus suffered. This is when the Owl and the infant, and the other voices who have not named themselves tonight, dissolve into water and combine into a great ocean that stops moving except for the shimmer where the moonlight hits its surface. I think, and now I have become I - I think that the ocean is empty, but this is merely a parlour trick or more aptly put a faulty defense mechanism. A hex, maybe. I cannot see under the shimmering moonlit surface. It is not impenetrable, others can see into it and often see something different from one another. This is an aspect of life. I know that the ocean is made up of the Owl and the infant and the many others; the things that visitors and strangers cannot know so intimately, but I cannot see anything beyond this. However, when I gaze in now, I could swear I saw a shadow moving. The outline of whales. I am not savvy on whales. Sperm, humpback? I can see shades of silver streaking. Beluga? I saw one of the only baby Belugas in captivity many years back. It was such a little thing, and followed its mother eagerly. It was beautiful. Just a baby. I close my eyes. The sea is breaking up. I close my mouth. The infant is crying. The valves tighten shut. The Owl contemplates killing the infant. It knows the blood on its claws can never wash off. It think it knows everything.

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 21: "we've done worse"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Hyde and Forman stood outside Mitch Miller's house. They'd both traveled here, to Point Place, on a Saturday to fix Forman's screw-up and to fix Mitch. Forman probably would've preferred to have Mitch fixed by a veterinarian. The dude had been an obnoxious presence in his and Donna's lives for over a decade, but Hyde had a plan.

He reached for the doorbell, but Forman stopped him. "Are you sure what we're about to do is, you know, ethical?"

"We've done worse. Anyway, he'll either appreciate the manipulation or won't realize it."

Hyde rang the doorbell, and the front door swung open seconds later. "Gentleman," Mitch said, dressed in clothes suitable for a tennis match, "welcome to my home."

He took Hyde and Forman's coats and hung them in the foyer closet. The coats were bigger than he was, but he managed not to drop either.

Inside the heated living room, a charcuterie board was laid out on the coffee table. For a moment, Hyde was sent back to the Burkhart Estate, and he shivered. But this house was no mansion, and it wasn't in the town's richest neighborhood either. Trees lined the block with leaves of varying autumn colors, the only complimentary detail he could mention if asked.

The three of them sat, Hyde and Forman on the sofa and Mitch in a nearby armchair.

"I'm so glad you guys -- gentleman -- asked to meet! A catch-up before the Formans' big Halloween party." Mitch's joy failed to disguised a desperation Hyde recognized. It matched the purple undertone beneath Mitch's eyes and the mild tremor in Mitch's hands as he poured glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. "My cheddar is the good stuff. Not the cheap kind we use at Fatso Burger."

Forman accepted his glass of wine and sipped from it. Hyde put his down on the table. He used to believe he could handle his booze, but he'd been kidding himself. Cutting it out from his life, though, hadn't been tough. He was lucky.

"So, Eric, I read in the Point Place High Chronicle that you're working for Blinkhorn Toys." Mitch popped a chunk of cheddar into his mouth but kept talking. "Your dream job, huh? Yeah, I'm a business man myself."

Forman stuffed two cheddar pieces into his mouth. He was clearly too chicken-shit to do the talking, but Mitch had a history of out-talking him. Hyde got it, and he whispered to Forman, "Listen and learn."

Hyde laced his fingers over his lap. The jeans he and Forman wore stood out in sharp contrast to Mitch's white shorts, but Hyde's approach was meant to be casual. "How's your franchise doin'?" he said, already knowing the answer.

"Good, good!" The high pitch of Mitch's voice revealed the truth, and he drank half his glass of wine before continuing. "I convinced the owner to let me tailor the Point Place location to the town's tastes. It should have worked. Profits should've increased significantly, meriting me my own franchise with the fee waved."

He topped off his wine glass. Forman made a sound, but Hyde elbowed him in the ribs. Never stop someone from revealing intel, he wanted to tell him, but he waited for Mitch to continue.

"Being manager of a store comes with a lot of responsibilities," Mitch said, "especially a franchise." He drank from his glass then gestured at Hyde with it. "You know what I'm talking about, right? You managed the local Grooves for years."

"Yup, at nineteen. Tossed into the deep-end," Hyde said, but he'd had his sister's guidance and their dad's. "Made some changes to the store's focus. Not all of 'em went over well," at first.

Mitch ran his fingers through his hair, as red as Donna's. It became disheveled, which Hyde suspected was its natural state lately. "Fatso Burger's CEO is meeting with the franchisee on Monday. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get fired."

He laughed the laugh of someone who was about to lose the last shred of his dignity -- or sanity. "My charisma has steered me wrong. I never thought this would be my life. I'm turning fucking thirty next year, and this is my life!" He drank even more wine, and Hyde moved the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to the sofa's side table. "I should've started a cult when I had a chance."

"Okay, first, you were charismatic enough to sway my friends for, like, a day when we were teenagers," Forman said, "but no way you'd make it as a cult leader."

Hyde smiled to himself and leaned back against the sofa cushions. Forman had finally found his voice.

"A cult leader ... " Forman laughed once. "You could be a cult leader's toady, but you'd always be second."

"You're right!" Mitch shouted and burst into tears. "I'm pathetic."

Forman let him sob. He was enjoying this experience; Hyde spotted the corner of Forman's mouth lift into a smirk, but savoring Mitch's misery was not their goal.

"I wouldn't be where I am without you," Hyde said and clasped Forman's shoulder tightly. The pain he was causing showed on Forman's face. "I'm nobody's second, so why don't you tell Mitch how he can be first, too?"

"Right, yeah," Forman said while prying Hyde's fingers off him. "Mitch, it's simple: change everything about who you are, and you'll stop being pathetic."

Mitch peered up at Forman with red, puffy eyes and a flushed face. "But you have everything I want. My dream career, my dream woman. I'd have to kill you to be happy."

Forman turned to Hyde with a flurry of exasperated words and hand gestures. Hyde quieted him down with a look that communicated more than support. He would fix this sitch, as promised. A frog to Forman's arm might've had the same result, but Hyde needed to practice non-violent techniques. Fatherhood might be in his future, and he'd never lay a hostile finger on his kid.

"Dreams can take different forms, man," Hyde said to Mitch. "I've got a proposal for ya."

Mitch stared at him blankly, like Hyde were a frog bestowed with the power of speech. In response, Hyde pulled a two-by-two photograph from his wallet, and life returned to Mitch's face.

"This is Gretchen Hindley, VP of marketing at Grooves. She's searchin' for someone with your charisma and experience to fill a newly-vacated job." Hyde plucked Gretchen's business card from his wallet, placed it beside her picture on the coffee table. "She's also single and searchin' for a guy who'll treat her like she hung the freakin' moon."

Mitch examined both the photograph and the business card. "How tall is she?"

Forman sighed, but Hyde said, "Around my height."

"I love me a tall woman." Mitch flicked the business card against his wrist. "Mixing work and romance won't be a problem?"

"Not as long as both of you sign the forms HR'll give you. So what do ya think?"

Mitch quit flicking the business card and read it over. "Well, I have done a lot of promotions for Fatso Burger the last five years. I do a lot of person-to-person marketing ... "

Hyde knew this fact as well as Mitch's tenuous position at Fatso Burger. Jackie's dad had bought back the company after being released from prison. Turned out he wasn't as bankrupt as he'd left his family, had managed to transfer a sizeable chunk of money and stock portfolio to his best friend in Michigan. Best friend returned it all except for twenty percent. That was the deal. Underhanded but goddamn clever, and Jack gave Jackie the support -- financial and otherwise -- she needed, was owed, to begin her fashion house.

After one call, Jack had gotten Hyde a copy of Mitch's resumé ASAP, and Hyde's plan created itself.

"Would I have to move to Milwaukee if I got the job?" Mitch said.

"Yup, but I have a buddy in real-estate. He can help you find a good place to move."

Mitch rubbed his face with both hands. "This all sounds too good to be true." He gripped his chair's armrests and leaned toward Forman. "Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I will take you life -- in every sense."

"You're an asshole, and I hate you, but no," Forman said. "I asked Hyde to help you because Donna asked me to help you."

"Donna?" Mitch's voice wavered like might cry again. "She's a journalist ... and she must've dug up my dirt. Oh, how I wish her curiosity extended to my body."

Forman stood with balled fists, but Hyde yanked him by the shirt to the sofa. He stayed seated but grumbled.

"At least one person in this crappy town cares about me," Mitch said and gazed wistfully at both the photo and business card. "I'll give Gretchen a call."

He was wrong about so much, but correcting him would do more harm than good.

In the cold air outside Mitch's house, Forman exhaled a deep breath of white smoke. Relief rose off him similarly. "Thanks. ... Boy, do I owe you."

"Damn right."

Hyde wasn't thrilled by the prospect of Mitch living in his city. The music industry was filled with enough pinheads like him, but one more wouldn't hurt. Especially if it freed Forman and Donna from their quasi-stalker and gave Mitch a chance at a better life.

Hyde flinched at his own thoughts. Man, he'd become soft. Must've been a consequence of being happy.

[moonbiscuitsims]

Cyberpunk AU Konan and Pain (Sims 4). Included some gameplay mod links. ❤❤❤

Download Akatsuki Cyberpunk jacket

This cuddle in bed mod in Sims 2 style is by Mizoreyukii and Thepancake1

Using the new pizza oven from the Home Chef Stuff

I use Basemental mod and also this mod cruelty free meat always (Eco life)

I loved that for the party they actually went to the part of the build I wanted them to go instead of all being in random places in the house &lt;3 I use this mod by Weerbesu to have bigger parties.

Edit: realising now this might not be No-Tell Motel but Lizzie's Bar, oops lol still check out hamsterbellbelles channel and tumblr! it's so good

When you're trying to be edgy gangster criminal but you have a cute little frog baby. Akatsuki rug is by @hydrangeachainsaw

Konan is like "mm kombucha!" and Pain is like "nooooo how dare you" 

This is their cute adopted doggy called Aiko. The sky is all yellow because I use Basemental Eco Hacks to make my whole Cyberpunk save industrial climate.

This is the Give Candy mod by Zulf

This custom food is by ONI

Been a while since I uploaded story shots, and I loved playing this household so much, even more than in my original Naruto themed save where I wasn't happy with the build. I love the Cyberpunk AU version of them! And my build (Evergreen Harbour) So I haven't played Growing Together a lot, I found that Roxanne (their baby) just cries the whole time no matter what even if nothing is wrong, especially when sleeping which was a bit annoying. But once she is a toddler she is ok. So the story is that Konan and Pain (not Nagato or Yahiko, in my AU version) are like living in a abandoned factory building. Pain likes to (or had to) do illegal stuff like selling substances but he does it so that Konan can live doing her passions. She loves to do handcrafts including flower arranging (there was no origami so I chose to make her arrange white flowers), juice brewing, canning (Icemunmun's mod is soo cool) candle making etc. It is very profitable and sells at the market, but they wouldn't have got this far if Pain didn't do what he does. He wants to expand without getting into dangerous territory in Night City with all the gangs and crime out there so keeps it low scale, but is thinking of forming a gang called Akatsuki ;) (the question is should I make some other members lol, I would love to make a cyberpunk Itachi &lt;;3)

The reason there is so much Froggy stuff is because of this:

[thatstormygeek]

And the message of these inspiring uncommitted voters, both in interviews and in messaging from the organizers, has been clear. Biden has lost our confidence after backing a genocide. He must do more. He must take action like cutting off the flow of weapons and bombs to Israel. He must stop funding Israel. He must use his very considerable power to push Israel to end the genocide in Gaza. This has been made clear, repeatedly. Yet it’s still being deliberately misconstrued. Instead of listening to the points made soundly and repeatedly by a broad coalition of Democratic voters, the effort to malign the uncommitted campaign is in full swing. John Fetterman is one of the avatars of this push, spamming social media with half-baked memes and commentary making fun of his own party’s voters, and fellow Democratic members of Congress like Rashida Tlaib, for backing uncommitted. Again and again he says that this movement to show Biden just how much backing Israel’s genocide could cost him is helping Trump. It’s a non-existent logic that’s both totally wrong and debasing to those making it in that it feigns a complete misunderstanding of the primary process.

Now some voters won’t come around. For them, it’s too late. And I understand that. But what the critics, the dishonest commentary surrounding the uncommitted movement appear to not understand is that they are hurting Biden, Palestinians, and democracy. Their efforts to circle the wagons rather than listen to thousands and thousands of dedicated party voters is hurting their own cause. They are further alienating these vital constituents, and futilely attempting to diminish the Palestinian cause.

It’s impossible to know what the White House will do next. But people are organizing, and escalating. It’s not just hundreds of thousands of people voting uncommitted, it’s people disrupting political events, disrupting Israeli real estate events where occupied land is being sold, locking themselves to the gates of weapons factories. Millions have boycotted Starbucks, to the point where they’re acknowledging the impact on sales and profits. We are taking economic, political, and direct action, and our voices are breaking through the noise. Above all, countless Americans are getting organized, allowing us to act collectively and do more.

Don’t let anyone get it twisted, this mass campaign isn’t anti-democracy or pro-Trump. It’s a movement against genocide using the democratic process itself, and the White House knows it. The majority of this country wants a ceasefire, wants to stop sending weapons to Israel, wants an end to the slaughter in Gaza. No matter how anyone tries to distort that reality, we will keep making it clear, and we will keep increasing the pressure to make peace a reality. Hundreds of thousands of people are turning out at the polls to say: one way or another, we will make ourselves heard and force the issue, we will force the United States to do everything it can to end Israel’s genocide in Gaza.

[anthonybialy]

Bill of Wronged

Our rights have been taken to not be safe.  People get every benefit otherwise.  Attempting to manipulate the universe on our behalf is super kind of authorities who expect the gesture to compensate for not actually doing it.  We only get a vote technically.

Wondering how could one be in favor of guns is popular amongst those not into free will.  Sanctimony about how implements hurt bodies and feelings replaces not thinking out that naughty types might obtain them, perhaps even in defiance of legal restrictions.  The mere existence of that choice dissuades villains from initiating nefarious plans.

Figuring what crimes never occurred is hard to measure.  But it’s easy to see what happens when the only people restricted from bearing arms are those who comply with laws.

Trying to get virus season going again is for your benefit.  You’re acting a bit too independently.  A sequel scare might get you to remember who rules over you.  Visionary faux epidemiologists have to plan panic ahead, as one can’t spring fear a month before an election.  The timing of picking a new president is surely coincidental.  Paranoia is a symptom immune to vaccination.

Thoroughness is not a virtue when the right to shop elsewhere is treated as a sin.  The fear of an even worse shutdown sequel serves as an extension of the sickly notion that government should and can be responsible for one’s health.  You don’t get a choice.  That’s supposed to make you feel reassured.

Treating companies who heal you as Satan’s minions is lamentably consistent.  Contempt is similar to what simply must be justified demonization of the gun industry, as they couldn’t merely be offering a product customers want.  Shooting bowling pins in the woods is almost as fun as scaring off potential muggers and tyrants.  But aspiring buyers are told they’re beholden to diabolical shootie-manufacturing conglomerates that would profit any way they could and truly enjoy doing so off suffering.  Compensation for offering something we want is tough to accumulate, anyway, what with inflation remaining a stubborn problem ever since corporations realized they could exploit the populace for excessive profit just after Joe Biden took office.

Pretending money isn’t involved makes life costly.  We’re trying complimentary living right now to see how much more expensive existence can get.  You may notice your consent wasn’t sought.  Being aware of losing liberty is the extent of rights. so be grateful perception remains legal.  That’s only because it’s tough to ban.  The Biden White House’s efforts to control social media narratives through coercion show they try their hardest.  It’s too bad they couldn’t invest efforts to suppress narratives into learning trades.

A caring government lovingly protects serfs from the torture of choice.  Politicians who’ve never run businesses dream of reducing options down to one.  The ensuing dream world will just like what happens when government kindly consolidates industries and takes your money without asking.

Bad examples to avoid will have to count as progress.  Your rulers show their contempt for profit by taking as much of it as possible.  They spend it at will to illustrate the peril of greed.  A biblical situation leads to losing niceties such as options.  Imposing unwieldy burdens upon amalgamations is justified by demonizing them as cruel indulgers of decadence.  Similar logic leads to thinking efficiency means reducing options, not multiple options reducing supply.

It’s their fault for both charging too much and not offering enough.  Those who think the only crime is paying bills also coincidentally double as enemies of capitalism, which as a reminder is another name for trading.  Dragging down others because they have nothing which would enable them to participate flaunts a distinct lack of empathy.

If you want to spend six or seven years which could be spent getting a plumbing business going instead majoring in political science, don’t expect to pay.  College shouldn’t cost anything, at least according to attendees.  Students who take classes in self-righteousness specialize in claiming they benefit society, which is a common delusion amongst the least useful graduates.  Humans who actually help went into business for themselves and contributed to society functioning as a byproduct.  I thought liberals believed in collective benefits.

Endless interventions are based in the seemingly reasonable and wholly delusional notion that life should feature protections.  Wanting to be free of fear is as natural as it is impossible.  Evidence isn’t going to deter a plucky hero like your incumbent executive.  We’re learning the notion does indeed alter our world.  The problem is it’s for the worse.  Making an impact on the world is easy as long as you don’t care what kind.

Deciding which amendments they exploit while scoffing at them is how de facto autocrats respect our Constitution.  They’re free to say any moronic thing they want while law-abiding firearms carriers keep them safe.  You don’t have to worry about sluggish trials or, if you’re a Biden, testifying against yourself.  Meanwhile, the country is presently propped up by states possessing the option to have rights.  Liberals would quarter troops, but only if they work for the IRS.  They endure the cruel and unusual punishment of having to live with themselves.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

3. "So 'cool' guys protect businessmen while everyone else lives in the ruins? I can think of cooler things."

+1 Communism

SIILENG - "Yeah -- *cool* ruins," he agrees. "I get to sell quality goods like these by cutting out the middlemen. *You* don't have to rebuild your house. Live in a crater! Or in a tree!" He points to a tree. "*Where* can you do that? Only here."

3. "Is there a discount for cool officers like me?"

SIILENG - "No need for discounts at Siileng's, officer. Everything's already on sale." He nods towards the crates. "Anything you want, 50% off!"

4. "That's all then. Let me ask you something else."

SIILENG - "Anything for you..." He smiles again.

3. "Where are you from, Siileng?"

SIILENG - "Me? It's a boring story, officer. Who cares about the past? I'm all business now -- all Revachol."

"But you're not a local, are you?"

(Better not to mention.) "Sounds good. Let's get back to business then."

SIILENG - "Very sharp, officer. I'm Seraise, from the Siigay province of the Seraise Empire. The 'Apricot Suzerainty', you know?"

"Yum. Apricots are delicious."

"Why's it called that? Lots of apricots there?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "The *Apricot Suzerainty*," the lieutenant explains, "is what the Siigay archipelago is commonly known as in Revachol." He pauses. "It's a bit of a *fraught* term, I'm sure you understand."

SIILENG - "No-no, apricots come from Siigay," the vendor explains. "My grandma used to grow them. But Siigay is a shithole, that's why I came to Revachol. Here's much better for an independent entrepreneur. Less *laws*."

"Speaking of -- why not support an independent local entrepreneur? I send half my profits back to my grandma in Siigay."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - Well. If it's for his *grandma*... you should buy a lot of things.

3. [Rhetoric - Challenging 12] Persuade him to give you some money.

-1 Poor underprivileged grandma.

We have basically no chance of succeeding at this. Still, money is money, and we still don't have enough to pay Garte for tonight...

RHETORIC [Challenging: Failure] - No need to dress this one up, just tell him what you want.

"You. I want your money. Now."

SIILENG - "Oh, okay." Siileng stops, his face suddenly serious. "But why, officer?"

"Because I... am corrupt? I don't really remember how it works, though -- being corrupt, I mean."

"I don't know, it was just the only thing I could come up with in my head -- to ask you. I need to get money *somehow*."

SIILENG - "Ah, yes. Money is very important." The street vendor nods, dead-serious.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Are you trying to ask for a *bribe*? If so, you're not doing a very good job..." He looks at the vendor.

SIILENG - "Sorry, detective." The man grins as if the entire incident is already forgotten.

4. "I'll look around, thanks." [Leave.]

Siileng has three boxes of wares. Let's look through them.

PILE OF CLOTHES - There are clothes inside. Cheap second-hand clothes, smelling of strangers' body odours.

SIILENG - "Don't be shy, these are premium-class clothes! Good quality fabrics, best retro design! Save the economy with your style, officer!"

Browse through the box.

[Leave for now.]

PILE OF CLOTHES - You find your hands deep in tattered and faded garments made from weird polyester blends that make your body itch and sweat in all the wrong places.

SIILENG - "Economical, but also trendy!" the street vendor shouts. "Look first-hand, buy second-hand. Keep the economy moving!"

2. [Composure - Medium 10] Find something worth salvaging from that pile of rags.

We'll find a different item in here depending on whether we succeed or fail. This is a white check, though, so failing will allow us to retry it. I'd actually prefer to fail here, so I go to change. When I put on those jeans we found in Cindy's room, however...

INTERFACING - The pockets of these new jeans are perfect for sticking your hand into. Makes you look cool, calm, and collected. As your hand enters the pocket, your fingers brush against something… soft, yet crinkly.

Take the item out.

INTERFACING - Hey! It's a chewing gum wrapper. It reminds you of the fruity juice of apricots. You should inspect it closer if you have time. Something about the wrapper's texture is familiar...

We've been hearing a lot about apricots lately...

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER

A gleaming chewing gum wrapper found in the pocket of the labourer jeans. It gives off an ever-so-faint scent of apricots... Your mouth starts watering.

>INTERACT

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER- There it is again -- the scent of apricots, with a touch of cinnamon. Smells like the end of some distant summer. The surface of another planet, or some ancient temple.

Ancient temple?

End of summer...

Take a deep, *deep* breath.

[Put the wrapper away.]

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER- Yes. From the height of antiquity. A long, long time ago. Millennia ago. On an island of time you can never return to.

2. End of summer...

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER- The sun sets into the sea, but the water does not boil. Instead it turns to liquid gold. For a moment, the world's store of precious metals seems to increase dramatically, and you are rich...

There is a movement next to you. The shuffle of a small coat. Warm, like the evening. But when you turn toward it there's nothing there...

Where did it go?

Wait, come back!

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER- Why are you talking to a gum wrapper?

3. Take a deep, *deep* breath.

APRICOT CHEWING GUM WRAPPER- Bitter, citrus, sweet, it seems to grow stronger, like a glow, with every breath you take...

... until a blossom of skin and flower petals erupts behind your closed eyes. Made of toffee, cream, and distance. You just *had* to take a dive.

Thought gained: Apricot Chewing Gum Scented One

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Feels so, so familiar.

4. [Put the wrapper away.]

APRICOT CHEWING GUM SCENTED ONE

Temporary research bonus: -1 Reaction Speed: Living in the past Research time: 5h 5m

PROBLEM: You have found a trace of *entity* who’s been stalking you across the planes. The gloom stalker, the conglomeration. The shadowy organization behind your downfall. (Possibly connected to the dreaded *ex*-something.) Granted, it is *impossible* to determine its true identity. But you *can* remember where you first smelled its treachery. Yes! Use the 'Tutti Frutti' gum wrapper -- reconstruct the day you first breathed in her untrustworthy atoms.

Anyway. Clothes.

SIILENG - "You keep coming back. That's good, officer! Keep browsing those clothes, keep saving that economy!"

COMPOSURE [Medium: Failure] - No good. All you can come up with are some treated wool pants. You can tell they're too tight around your thighs and too loose around the waist.

-1 Morale

Touch them.

Discard the woolly pants.

COMPOSURE - They itch. Like hell. Like an itch-pit in hell.

SIILENG - "All natural materials, see?" The street vendor interrupts, guiding your hand over the fabric. "Real wool, 100% skin-friendly! And they're yours for only 2 reál!"

Itchy Pants +2 Half-Light -1 Composure -1 Savoir Faire

These are super cheap, and as you can see, they'll allow us to pass Medium difficulty Half-Light checks.

3. [Cost: 2.00] "I want to buy those itchy pants."

SIILENG - "You won't regret it, officer!" The street vendor smiles broadly.

3. [Leave for now.]

Itchy Pants

+2 Half-Light: Itch-rage -1 Composure: Bees in your pants -1 Savoir Faire: Really uncomfortable

Itchy pants. These pants make you angry. Good LORD these pants are UNCOMFORTABLE. Punch someone in the face! They are striped and calf-length; too tight around thighs, too loose around waist -- the worst case scenario.

FALN SNEAKERS ON A PEDESTAL OF SPEAKERS - You see two lowly, defeated speakers. Thralls, slaves basically. Perched atop them like conquerors surveying the land: a pair of FALN durable-wear sneakers, 'Ultra' series.

Inspect the sneakers.

Inspect the speakers.

[Leave].

FALN SNEAKERS ON A PEDESTAL OF SPEAKERS - A pair of FALN 'Ultras.' The design is impossibly sleek and simple -- a futuristic silhouette with a sleek monochrome colourway, a jet black upper, and a silver-lined midsole.

SIILENG - "Those sneakers, mister..." the street vendor intones. "Those sneakers are the latest FALN sneakers. Super-rare, super-fine, super-cool -- only 50 reál!"

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - Only?! That's madness.

We obviously cannot afford the sneakers.

2. Inspect the speakers.

FALN SNEAKERS ON A PEDESTAL OF SPEAKERS - These once-respectable speakers have been conquered, reduced to a mere prop by the indomitable FALN 'Ultras' atop them.

SIILENG - "No-no, don't look at the speakers, officer! Look at the *sneakers*!" The man points to the footwear. "The *sneakers* are the stars here!"

"But I already looked at the sneakers."

"What about the speakers though? Doesn't anyone want those speakers?"

"Poor little speakers." (Pat them.)

SIILENG - "Then look at them again! These are premium lifestyle sneakers, officer -- the best on the market!"

3. "Can't I just buy the sad, conquered Samaran speakers?"

SIILENG - "No way, officer, these aren't for sale. They're bad speakers, low-fi socialist junk."