#especially when examples are given and some sort of rough categorization exists

[maoutan]

My soul dies a little every time I see a normal person in a casual context bring up which characters have the same MBTI as them simply because 9 times out of ten that's not even the correct MBTI for the person OR the character

[rabbitrah]

Do you think "learning styles" might be more applicable to people with adhd/autism? I agree that as a whole it's too vague as a concept and for most people you can't prove that it's effective. But I seriously struggled with listening due to my adhd and would always zone out. So any visual stimuli in the lesson was always appreciated. Then again, I suppose visual stimuli is effective for everyone. No one can learn just by someone droning on at them. Especially if they have a learning disability.

[TL;DR: The issue with “learning styles” is that regardless of individual preferences and weaknesses, everyone benefits from multiple modes of communication and practice, so identifying “learning styles” just creates extra work for the teacher that accomplishes nothing.]

That’s a great question and you pretty much answered it yourself in the end, lol. (Here was my meme-y post about learning styles for anyone interested.) I have ADHD, dyslexia, and some other learning disabilities myself, and also have a lot of trouble with verbal instruction.  I think that having trouble processing something, such as sound, or even being neurotypical but having a preference for how you like to receive information, is distinct from a “learning style” as it’s presented in the handful of theories on the topic. The thing that’s in dispute isn’t that some people really like and get a lot out of graphs, other people get a lot out of using hand gestures to remember things, and other people prefer to learn by talking and listening. The issue with learning style theories is the myth that there’s essentially a clearly defined “learning style astrology” that teachers can and should use to categorize their students and individualize instruction.

None of the studies on the various learning style theories has shown that teachers or students knowing their “style” actually has any effect on individual success than if they never knew in the first place. One reason for this is that even though these learning differences and preferences exist between us, the differences are pretty inconsequential in the long-run. Even though you and I have trouble processing sound, we’d probably have a rough time if the sound was cut completely out of our classrooms, right? Similarly, “auditory learners” might find themselves struggling if their courses were suddenly delivered exclusively through audio.

Dr. Susan Greenfield wrote, "Humans have evolved to build a picture of the world through our senses working in unison, exploiting the immense interconnectivity that exists in the brain." While we all have unique perspectives on the world and a unique way of acquiring and filing away new knowledge, students will learn best when they’re given high-quality EVERYTHING. That means high-quality visuals, high-quality discussions, high-quality hands-on assignments, whatever. Trying to determine learning style is of little to no consequence, and the time spent on analyzing it would be better spent implementing the research-based teaching methods that will benefit ALL students, as well as the research-based accommodations to best serve students with diagnosable learning differences like you and me.

People w/ learning differences and disabilities (like ADHD or blindness) might require additional accommodations, but that’s very distinct from what learning theorists recommend. For example, when a blind student can’t access visual materials, so they may be given books in braille and auditory descriptions. A  student with ADHD might need to always have written instructions for a project because they can’t efficiently process verbal instructions. In both cases, things are being added by the teacher, but nothing is being taken away. We want ALL students to receive and participate in the lesson in as many different ways as possible because we all benefit from multi-modal learning.  We only consider what you might call “learning styles” when a student can’t access a part of our lesson. It comes down to painting with broad strokes and knocking down barriers as they arise, rather than obsessing over minute differences and sorting kids into boxes.

[titleknown]

Cryptic Vs Rakuga Horror

@tyrantisterror, in my eyes, is one of the great horror critics of our generation, and I would say one of his greatest achievements is the existence of the Four Horrors theory. Specifically, it's a hypothesis based on the idea of four primary “Axes” of horror fiction based on the place the horror comes from.

Namely, the horrors of the past (Gothic), horrors of the future/irresponsible-progress (Atomic), the horrors of human rottenness and cruelty (Slasher, tho the issues with that name are for another day) and the horrors of things that are so much more vast and terrible than we could possibly comprehend (Cosmic)

But, I would say there's another axis related to that theory, one that's not quite in the same boat but rather supplemental to it.

Like categorizing library books by author or by subject as TT put it.

And thusly, this is the truth of Cryptic Horror vs Rakuga Horror....

The core difference, of course, which I must emphasize is that while the Four Horrors categorizes the horror in terms of its cause within the narrative, these two categorize them by their means of aesthetic convenyance. And that conveyance is the realistic horror of Cryptic Horror versus the surrealistic horror of Rakuga Horror.

Now, when I speak of Cryptic Horror as “realistic,” I do not mean excluding the fantastical and only keeping the plausible. I mean, the Creepypasta known as The Burgrr Entries goes immensely batshit and weird with such, and David Lynch's weird shit could be slotted into this category as easily as he could the latter (Tho more on that in a bit).

Rather, it's “realistic” in the sense it feels like a real experience, that is; as such an impossible thing would be experienced by a real person at the ground level. It comes with little warning, little if no explanation, more questions than answers, essentially the thing you feel could happen when walking down a dark alley or a dark forest or in an empty Wal-Mart at night.

It presents the horror in the sense that “It could happen to you” and that's perhaps why the idea and its aesthetics has its genesis in stories that were told originally as true.

While, as TT said, most horror stories have always kept a pretense of realism; and there's always been ghost stories of the baffling chronicled around the fire, the true origin I would say is in the sort of “Fortean” stories, named after Charles Fort; who chronicled bizarre; anomalous pheomenon that were documented and real, but also unexplainable.

These spread out into conspiracy theory, urban legends and the cryptid stories from which I gave the genre its name. And I named that because I would say they also spawned its blooming into what could be called a full “thing,” in ways that can be seen in the most wildly prominent of its incarnations, because a lot like fantasy the idea of this as its own aesthetic is relatively recent, thanks to it not really showing that much as an independent “look” in fiction.

And, I would argue, both the medium of found footage film and creepypasta solidified the idea of Cryptic horror as a look, both via the inherent nature of their mediums. The lack of conventional framing in found footage was a perfect vehicle for the versmillitude the genre trades in, and from that versmillitude that sort of profound feeling of paranoia I feel the genre does best (Though that was from a different time).

And, drawing from documentary, it's no wonder it'd draw narratively from real creepy things, such as Blair Witch or; in my mind; V/H/S/2's underrated framing segment for some examples.

Creepypasta, of course, had the feeling of versmillitude just by its sheer embrace of the idea that this is being written by a person from a place of experience, ideally preserved in both the formatting of the text and the level of mystery given. The anonymous and ephemeral nature of the imageboards also has to have helped, along with the decentralized nature of its spread such as in the case of Slender Man especially .

So, if the Cryptic Horror is the horror of Blair Witches, Mothmans and Slendermans, what the hell is Rakuga horror then? Well, that starts with the meaning of the name Rakuga, which is a shortening (as I understand) of the Japanese word Rakugaki, for “childish scribblings,” nonsense if it were.

And, that's what Rakuga Horror is, nonsense horror. It is the horror of the surreal, where everything is in your face impossible, even the world, like the logic of a dream. It may have rules, but those rules are poetic and of the kind no sane person would think up except as a gag or a fit of madness. The aesthetic could be described as generally “fever dream”, a fluid state of liminality.

I would give this style the alternate name “Cartoon Horror,” because that is what it is and what it's been most concentrated in throughout its history, though some early examples like Alice in Wonderland or the works of Winsor McCay are borderline such (Though not horror per-say).

From animation history, Minnie The Moocher and Swing You Sinners from Fleischer Studios are outstanding examples of it, as ar the Heffalumps and Woozles and Pink Elephants On Parade scenes from Disney, even Sally Cruikshank’s Face Like A Frog is a primo example.

But, it's never really been considered horror, perhaps due to how animation; especially the type known as “cartoons” has been treated as the beaten child kept in the basement of filmmaking. Likely because of Western film criticism’s fetish for realism, which is why I would go back in time and beat in Andre Bazin’s face with a shovel if I could, but I digress.

Of course, as animation becomes de-stigmatized, there are more creators than ever using that for their aesthetics, though mostly online given it's the fasted medium for such (Though Gekidan Inu Curry’s work on Madoka Magica captures its aesthetic properties quite well). Don't Hug Me I'm Scared is an excellent example, as is, and Bogleech's webcomic Awful Hospital.

Which leads us to the issues with those categorizations, at least the big one, which is that they mix a lot. For example, Burgrr as I mentioned before is a primo example of truly weird Cryptic horror, and yet it takes place in the same universe as Awful Hospital. And; as I also said before; David Lynch can fit in both, with his dreamlike underbellies to seedy realities.

But, given TT did say that Slasher/Cosmic and Gothic/Atomic Horrors could coexist in the same work, I don't really see that as a disqualification. Horror, like ogres, has layers, and their coexistence does not make them any less aesthetically distinct.

Though, the cliffs notes on the imagery, that's for another post...

This is something of a rough sketch of the idea, so feel free to critique it for my inevitable “smoothed out” version, but that's the gist of it! Hope ya dig it, and hope it’s interesting!

BTW, I don’t quite have a name for the two representative critters above. Anyone got any ideas?

[ive-always-been-a-pirate]

The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royal AU [Chapter 1]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general's daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the 'other' prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 4,386

Alright, here we are! I'm so excited to be FINALLY writing this story and I wanted to have a few chapters written in advance so I wouldn’t have to wait ages to update (I’ll be shooting for weekly updates, god willing). Keep in mind that this is a modern royal AU that's got a Prince Harry type version of Killian (who I'm kind of in love with already) and there’s going to be a lot of feels/angst ahead. There will be some M-rated stuff eventually, but it’s a long ways off so I’ll post a warning before those chapters. Thank you all for being patient and lovely :) enjoy! XOXO

"You've truly outdone yourself this time, little brother," Liam grumbled, a soft curse under his breath before throwing a sideways glare. "Above and bloody beyond."

A roll of his tired eyes before lowering his sunglasses was the only response Killian could muster at an early hour like this on a Saturday. Aside from the harsh sunlight battling the tinted windows of the black SUV, the hazy state of his brain had certainly left him in no mood for a lecture or an honor inspired chat - especially one that was clearly about to be riddled with rather specific vocabulary and those well known accusations he truly couldn't care less about.

Well, at least that's how he was planning on stubbornly playing this.

"Been fighting cameras and reporters all morning," Liam continued, silencing his cellphone as the vehicle rounded the corner of a palace surface road. "It's an absolute royal mess, Killian."

There it was - irony intended or not. It was that single word he'd been smacked with a thousand times over.

Royal. Royal, royal, royal.

The term had labeled him - well, them - for as far back as his recollection stretched, but even after a few decades of being wrapped up in that title, Killian still found himself a little uncertain on how such a word was defined. It wasn't easy to fend off his amusement at his brother's unnoticed pun, but Killian leaned back against the leather seat and considered the approaching speech he'd heard so many times over the course of his privileged life. Talk about a king complex, he thought as he watched Liam type out some sort of message with very obvious irritation.

He'd decided some time ago that perhaps the word itself was subjective and flexible - more a way to categorize what he was rather than who he had to be. Lord knows between bar fights, a few questionable dalliances, and a slight scandal or two, he'd spent his fair share of time being much less than regal. It had been explained to him once or twice in his youth and a few more disciplinary times since then, but he always went back to what his mother had once told him.

Everyone looks to us to be the example - the family who will set the path for others. You and your brother will be heroes to the people one day, Killian.

Killian exhaled hard at the memory, the thought calling forth old demons he never and still did not want to confront. He had decided long ago that heroics were another one of those things he didn't have plans to explore. The one term he did have a very good understanding of in all of this was 'brother' - especially since his own had slammed the car door behind him the instant the ignition shut off and was currently storming angrily into one of the concealed doors at the palace's back entrance.

Oh, bloody hell. This was definitely not going to be as fun as the previous night was.

It was only once he started plodding up the cobblestone steps in pursuit of his irate older sibling that Killian realized he wasn't exactly sure how entertaining his evening truly had been. It had started easy enough - ducking out of the palace around eight when the watchful eye of his brother was finally occupied with a lofty stack of foreign documents and catching a cab to the corner pub under the cover of a red baseball cap with a well worn leather jacket. He'd met up with a few longtime comrades - his struggling author friend August and a libatious rugby teammate named Will Scarlet - but between the several raucous games of pool, the numerous shots of rum, and some drunken argument with god knows who ending in broken glass, the night had fallen into a bit of a blur.

It was one he was still trying to sort out when a slightly disguised Liam arrived to pick him up from the private holding station and one he'd still yet to fully remember as he stumbled into the grand palace hallway, doing his damndest to follow close on his brother's heels.

Well, at least that much hadn't changed.

"This is truly unbelievable," Liam grumbled, swinging the door open and not bothering to watch as Killian caught it just in time. "I can't believe you would be so….I just….dammit, Killian - I didn't even know you went out last night!"

Of course he hadn't noticed. Liam had been predictably consumed in tasks he'd one day be obligated to the moment dinner was cleared from the dining hall - studying every ordinance existing in England, scheduling a few upcoming event appearances, and conferencing with a few higher ups from the naval base near Portsmouth. It was all part of that fated job description that came with a prestigious reign and Killian had given up on involving himself it that sort of work long ago. It wasn't about him though - the job or the prestige. It would always be Liam - he, thankfully, wouldn't ever be that forcefully committed to their bloodline.

"Oh please, Liam," Killian scoffed, flopping down onto the couch in the room that was once his father's study. "It was one rough night - just a little mishap. It's not like I burned down Buckingham."

"Killian, you were nearly arrested," Liam argued, crossing his arms in annoyance after throwing his dark jacket onto the ornate armchair at his side. "Drunk and disorderly conduct isn't exactly something I can spin to our advantage. You're damn lucky there aren't any formal charges being filed. I thought we were past this, brother. You promised me you wouldn't let this happen after the last time and now-"

Killian cringed as Liam appeared to draw a rather impulsive conclusion about the tavern scuffle that led to their current argument. He didn't bother telling him just how wrong he was - how this time was nothing like the dozen of other times he'd had a few years earlier. He'd spent many nights in his early adulthood naivety, testing the bounds of his alcohol tolerance as well as the flexibility of the law. He'd learned quickly that his anger tended to spiral when he drank, often leading to bar fights much like the one he'd recently participated in. The difference was that those tended to be trivial - an argument over an Arsenal loss or bickering over a billiards game that escalated for no reason other than a loss of sobriety. Killian knew the night before wasn't like that. Sure, he'd been relatively tipsy, but he hadn't been belligerent.

He'd been defensive. He'd been standing up for his country. Though he'd done so in a more physical fashion than was preferred, he'd still been the supporter of the crown that Liam was constantly prodding him to be, but none of that was applicable by the time his exasperated brother walked into the station. It didn't matter - so Killian didn't say anything in refute. Instead, he did what he usually did in such circumstances.

He put on his best sarcastically arrogant act and pretended he didn't care. He'd gotten extraordinarily good at that over the years they'd been doing this.

"Ah, ah - I said I'd try," Killian cut in with an unnecessarily nonchalant smirk, fighting back with blatant cynicism. "Don't put words in my mouth, your highness."

"Oh, don't start with that," Liam said through gritted teeth, perhaps aware of the game they'd started playing. "You are just as royal as I am, Killian."

He wasn't wrong. They'd been groomed as inheritors of the throne since they were young boys bounding through the halls of the palace with plastic swords, trying like mad to avoid the wrath of whatever groundskeepers were manning the courtyard on any given day. They'd been the perfect picture of brotherhood, a couple of adventurous kids who'd eventually grow up to wear their titles with honor and every ounce of good form a representative of their esteemed family should possess.

Yes, they were royalty and this glorified place was home whether he liked it or not. They were meant to rule and even if he was his father's second son, Killian knew that his expected place was next to his older brother - the right hand man of the future king and the spare to the always adored heir.

It hadn't taken long for a devastating tragedy, those few misguided mistakes in his twenties, and years of running from the aftermath to change how willing he was to conform to that. He let his aching head lean back against the cushions of the lavish couch while he longed for some aspirin and silently thanked some higher power that the memories at hand were far behind - at least in terms of time anyway. He sighed lightly as a sense of exhaustion overcame him, throwing his arm up over his eyes to block out the unwanted daylight now covering the royal grounds - the homestead of a different sort of superiority. Killian resigned quickly that the brief flash of humanity and gratitude he did have lingering in his bones wasn't toward any regality or his older brother who was currently in line to acquire a more esteemed title.

No, the day he'd show his utmost appreciation for the crown was the day he'd be released from its presence - and if the always incessant paparazzi he'd seen outside the gates that morning was any indication, a day resembling the one he was pining for was sure as hell not on any foreseeable royal agenda.

"You can't keep acting this way, Killian," Liam finally said, rubbing his eyes in frustration. "Not with the reporters so interested in the happenings around here and what with the memorial gala coming up-"

"Bloody hell, brother," he groaned with a quick glare. "You do know that scolding me like a schoolboy doesn't fall within your jurisdiction just yet, right?"

"You're right," Liam snapped. "Maybe I should leave the reprimanding to the queen-"

"Actually, Granny - as you so lovingly did not put it - won't be returning from Canada for another three days," Killian reminded him. "We both know without my willful assistance in navigating the Internet, she's probably not going to catch wind of any of this until she's back and it'll be old news by then. No harm, no foul."

"I'd hardly categorize two broken windows at that bar and your currently split open lip in such a way, but hey - that's just me," Liam retorted stubbornly. "Seems morals are up for debate this morning."

"Well, now that you mention it-"

"Alright, enough - just shut up and listen to me," Liam growled, tossing a copy of some tabloid onto the coffee table - one Killian was thankfully not on the cover of. "You're lucky we've been able to keep it somewhat quiet this time. I've had Leroy playing damage control all morning with the press and with the meeting we are supposed to have today, I've yet to even dare bring it up with Dad or-"

"I'm sure she's got plenty keeping her charitably occupied, brother," Killian returned, knowing quickly that their exasperating stepmother was now the topic of conversation. "Doesn't she have some benefit coming up this week? Saving the homeless or the elephants or maybe just the world in general? I'm sure it's one of those. Plus, I'll remind you once again that she is not our mother, Liam."

Watching his brother's body tense at the underhanded retort, Killian felt his blood start the slow process of boiling. They'd had plenty of talks and even more yelling matches about their father's new wife since that wedding day and while Liam maintained that consistent respect was the expectation, Killian had decided long ago that he didn't owe that woman a damn thing.

She would never be his mother. He'd lost the privilege of such a figure in his life long ago.

"Don't get cheeky, you git," Liam snipped, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "You know damn well father's going to want to know what's going on-"

"With being married to that woman, I'm sure - if he were feeling well - he'd prefer to be out drinking and having a little fun all night too," Killian glared, holding up two crossed fingers. "Though hopefully he'd avoid the unfortunate run in with authorities. For the sake of the crown and all that."

"Killian…."

He'd heard his name muttered and mumbled in that particular tone of warning far too often over the years, more recently by Liam than anyone else. It was that deep, authoritative type of voice that sought to remind him of his place in line and in life - the one that constantly laid out a royal boundary he was reminded to follow. Expectations, however, had ceased to be his area of expertise as time went on - mostly by choice and a realization that he'd never truly reach the set bar. It wasn't like he cared about that anyway.

Well, at least not anymore.

There was truly no point in changing now. His ways were his own - and the public was welcome to interpret them however the bloody hell they wanted to. He supposed it was the advantage of being the 'other' prince. His shortcomings and questionable behavior over the past several years made for great stories that only made his brother look better. It wasn't wrong on all accounts - it was almost like fulfilling his own sort of 'royal duty'.

"I don't get why you have it in your head that I've got to act all high moral and mighty, just because the world is watching," Killian groaned. "I'm not you, Liam."

"But you are a prince, brother - and I know you don't care, but the rest of the world does," Liam exhaled, turning toward the door. "So go take a shower and please start acting like it. I need you to be en route by ten and you can't be showing up looking like you do right now."

"You're sure about that? It might make for entertaining small talk, much better than us discussing dad's dwindling health or-"

Using the stress of their father's illness was a low road to take and he realized it immediately, but it wasn't like they hadn't been here before - two brothers locked in a stubborn fight that could last long enough to make them miss brunch altogether. Pain flashed across Liam's face and Killian tried to shove the aching guilt he now felt over his anxiously chosen cheap shot at the man who'd been the only parent they had for nearing two decades.

"Killian," Liam finally said, his abrupt tone signaling the end of Killian's prodding banter for now. "Please."

Standing in the doorway, Killian watched his brother's regal stance slump slightly as he let the defeat of the morning overcome him for a moment. He looked tired and quite irritated, but even more than that, he seemed….disappointed. Killian felt a mix of shame and spite shift in his bones as he realized just how much he'd screwed up.

Like hell if he'd admit it though. No, Liam didn't get to win this one - that wasn't on the daily itinerary.

"Look, little brother, just-"

"Call for a car, Liam. I'll be ready by nine-" he snapped as he rose to his feet. "-and it's 'younger' brother, your highness."

The daylight was still annoyingly blinding by the time Killian summoned the energy to walk across the large gravel pathway to his less than humble abode. The small apartment style cottage was a short distance from the main palace but still part of the original royal structure. It had once been a temporary home to Liam, but once an imminent future of ruling the people started inching closer, he'd opted to take up residence in more central quarters. His older brother's choice to move had occurred just in time for Killian to secure the place as his own upon returning home from his second tour of serving the country rather than just the crown.

He'd spent almost ten years in uniform, working on training missions and enduring warfare far away from the watchful eye of the royals. Spending a deployment and a half in the desert of Afghanistan had been an honor he had never anticipated he would feel so proud of, but he had right up until the day he'd been pulled off the front lines when the media decided to reveal his whereabouts. He couldn't blame the military for their nervous decision - they were under orders to protect him probably even more so than themselves. He'd still felt slighted when he'd been reassigned to a naval base in Canada, trading his Captain status for a safer staff officer role where he'd spent a few years training Apache helicopter pilots like he'd once been. The decision to end that endeavor was one made without his full consent, but he'd abided by it and returned home with what he hoped was a stronger sense of understanding - even though he was still trying to comprehend why he'd been removed from the one career he knew would bring him success. A few dark months followed and in an attempt to move on, he'd helped field a charity centered around healing injured and disabled veterans through various sporting events and more friendly competition. It was something - definitely not enough, but still something.

To say he'd been happy to call a quiet corner of the palace grounds his new home after memories of sleeping on a very sandy cot and enduring the sounds of distant battle was a blatant understatement.

The little cottage itself wasn't much - two large bedrooms with a single smaller one, a remodeled kitchen, and a small walled off garden patio that provided more privacy than most places within the royal bounds. The majority of the structure was original and seeped in history from the weathered cobblestone path to the hardwood flooring. It didn't hold ground against the few pied-a-terres he had gained right to by way of lineage and it didn't come close to the regal housing his father had moved into a year or so after he'd become a widower, but for now, he could label it as a tentative home.

Hopefully quite tentative with any luck.

There'd been a few adjustments made over the years by past palace inhabitants - though there was still some rather awful carpeting in one room as well as a leaky faucet in the bathroom - but the several improvements were things Killian couldn't find himself at odds with when he noticed how the fresh paint and simplistic landscaping Liam lobbied for made the place feel comfortable. His brother truly had a way with that - that smooth, charming, genuine way of conversing that could convince almost anyone of nearly anything.

He'd surely gotten that from their mother, along with many other qualities that would guide him well as a leader of their country one day.

Shoving open the front door then slamming it lazily, Killian found himself pleasantly immersed in the silence of the house. He sighed softly as he tossed his jacket onto one of the plush armchairs before heading toward the bathroom with a slight stumble. Lifting a lifeless hand to scratch behind his ear, he made a distracted turn up the short hallway toward what would have to be a very quick and very cold shower as he started dreading the upcoming day.

As if a monster hangover and some simmering embarrassment weren't enough.

Shifting the shower nozzle to the right, Killian took a deep breath as steam filled the room and his senses. Turning his tired eyes toward the mirror, he decided it best to venture a look before the small room fogged up - though avoiding the reflection that should appear contrite would have likely been wiser.

He could hear the pitter patter of warm water on the tile floor just behind the glass door, but it was the mirror staring back at him that earned his attention. God, he looked terrible. Tilting his head to the side, he examined the dark circles beneath his deep cobalt eyes before allowing his vision to focus on the cut marring his lower lip. He'd taken a pretty square hit there from some drunk sod that Will had surely been goading, but Killian allowed himself an ounce of pride knowing he'd given as good as he got. If Liam wasn't currently so angry with him, he might have been proud to see that he'd held his own ground and perhaps even that of the royal family - though remembering exactly how the tavern drunk had been insulting the crown wasn't something he was capable of at the moment.

Pressing his fingertips to the scruff coming in thick on his face, he considered giving it a trim. With the Queen on tour across the pond, he'd be able to avoid her lovable scolding regarding his beard and the recollection of how she'd rolled her eyes at his claim that shaving wasn't his strong suite made Killian smile briefly. The idea of navigating a razor in his current frame of mind quickly put a halt to his pondering and he tilted his head to the opposite side to reminisce the scar that was proof of the damage a sharp object in unskilled hands could cause.

Damn Liam and his fencing skills - beginner's luck was definitely not something his regal older sibling had inherited.

Despite his exhausted and slightly broken appearance, Killian admitted silently just how much he didn't look like the man they were about to pay a visit to - well, at least not as much as his older brother did. Aside from the dark hair, Killian was more aligned with his mother's side of the family. His features were noticeably distinguished from his brother's on a few levels and the differences had been the source of a nasty fidelity rumor or two over the course of his life. He supposed such opinions probably still flew from time to time, especially since the scruff on his face grew in now with a few flecks of that rather random Irish red. Liam, however, was their father's son right down to his square jaw and wavy hair - though they'd both taken on the one physical quality from their mother that people had always admired.

My two blue eyed boys - the most handsome princes in the land.

It was during these all too quiet and conflicted moments that he found himself recalling that day he'd lost so much - the day his family and life as he knew it was severed into a thousand little pieces. He'd been standing in a position similar to the one he held now, but at the much younger age of roughly thirteen with his brother knocking loudly on the closed door. They'd been battling the space of these exact quarters all morning, each of them trying to look like the young royals their mother often saw them as. She'd be returning from a service visit to Africa - one she'd agreed to venture out on alone when her husband had come down with pneumonia - in a matter of a couple hours and despite the rain pounding the soaked ground outside, such an anticipated reunion would be a bright event for all of them. The busy morning had been a rushed effort for Killian, the act of smoothing down khaki pants while struggling with a striped tie becoming quite frustrating when the tragic call came in - the one that haunted him in a way unmatched by anything else.

He remembered trying his best - or perhaps worst - to tame the wild mess of almost black hair his mother loved to ruffle with her caring hand while staring into this same mirror. The fragile glass was chipped in the top corner from the time Liam had fidgeted with his first set of cufflinks and one had flipped upward a little too hard at the reflective surface. Killian recalled the way his mouth as well as Liam's had hung open in panic for the few moments leading up to their mother's amused and very genuine laugh. They'd feared she might be mad, but as she examined the tiny accident, she reassured them of that unconditional love she possessed - even when 'careful' wasn't a way to describe her eldest son's action.

It's okay, Liam. If anything, it will sure make for an interesting story one day.

It was the painful breaking news paired with an urgent phone call that made for a story Killian had never dreamed of hearing.

She was gone - the adored Princess Katherine of Wales killed tragically in a car accident just several streets from the palace gates.

Shaking his head quickly, Killian tried not to let the remembered news announcements from that day ring too loudly in his ears. He needed his head clear before they left for the palace and pondering the loving woman he'd probably always miss wasn't the way to achieve such a task. He tugged off his rumpled shirt one shoulder at a time after fumbling over the buttons, the black and gray flannel wrinkled beneath his touch as he tossed it to the floor. Flipping open the button on his jeans, the cellphone he'd tossed on the counter next to the sink sounded with a soft ding - an incessant noise that could only be caused by one person.

Liam: The car will be there for you in half an hour. I'll send Marco with a cup of coffee. Dress palace appropriate please, even if you don't feel like it. You know it's going to be expected.

Rolling his tired eyes, he tossed the device quickly to the surface he'd retrieved it from before dropping his well worn denim and boxer briefs to the tile below. His brother was truly an arrogant arse sometimes. Royal indeed, he thought as he stepped into the shower with a quick swing of the glass door.

Tagging some wonderful folks (who I’ve kept waiting for ages): @optomisticgirl (thank you for being the beta from heaven, my dear), @themmaswan, @xpumpkindumplingx, @spartanguard, @harryandthecambridges, @fergus80, @eala-captian, @allietumbles, @kmomof4, @laschatzi, @galadriel26, @timeless-love-story, @lifeinahole27, @kat2609, @msres, @all0of0the0usernames, @captainswanismyendgame, @lovelycssefan, @hooksheroicheart, @irishcaptainodonoghue, @gonzothegreat90, @yesplskillianjones, @cat-sophia, @rebelcxptain

*If there’s anyone who’d like a tag in future chapters, just let me know :)

[bestlivesexwebcams]

CrazyLiveCams – Breasts, Pussies And Much More!

There is an unspoken rule in the adult entertainment industry, and it goes a little something like this: “Money ain’t for nothin’ if the chicks are free.” In other words, you might as well spend your cash on ass because there’s not much else worth a dollar these days. It’s true; you get what you pay for. If a cheap nut is what you want, you can certainly find it. But, if you want to jizz until you spontaneously combust, you’ll have to whip out your wallet.

We hate to break it to you, but as soon as you go to Crazy Live Cams you’ll understand why we thought this warning was needed. We didn’t get too far on the free membership perks, but then again, our stamina is through the roof. For the average guy, gal, or guy-gal, this live sex cam site is the bee’s knees – complete with all the honeys you can get.

We had plenty of time to go through every single tab featured on the Crazy Live Cams website. At first, we were a little skeptical about the variety we would find on board (or lack thereof), but we stayed around long enough to realize that each model is willing to play dirty on just about every level. No need for a mountain of categories when everyone is DTF, we suppose.

Who, What, When, Why, How?

This site is one of those places where you’re not sure whether you love it or hate it. Scrolling to the bottom of the list of models is a bitch, and there’s no way to save your favorite selections. However, Crazy Live Cams does have something that the other sites wished they did: hoes who are actually friendly AND fuckable. We were so used to banging Miss Congeniality that we forgot how sexy some hoes can be. Holy boners, Batman!

We will take quality over quantity any time, although the same can’t be said by the rest of the population apparently. With only about 1,000 active members, CLC is still very much a little-known diamond (and we know how you like it rough). It features an array of women, men, and transsexuals who are not only willing but also able to juice your genitals until they bleed (if you’re into that sort of thing).

No, Crazy Live Cams isn’t called “crazy” because the models are into torture or some shit. It’s just a creative way for the developers to describe the collective personalities of the sluts involved. Their appetite for the crotch is legendary, and as good as most of them look, we would venture to say it was their calling to be our virtual hookers. It’s hard for us to know anything for sure when we’re cum-dumb though.

How Does This Work?

Like most of the other live sex cam websites we have had the pleasure of reviewing, Crazy Live Cams offers up mounds of models around the clock. Want to jerk off to some Asian lesbians at 4 A.M.? Nobody there is going to judge you. Trust us. We tested the theory. What happens on the site stays on the site. It’s like the Vegas of Virtual Porn, and the best part is that it’s free (well, sort of).

The thing is: you can enter the fun park for free but the rides require tickets. When you sign up you will automatically receive some free shit to get started with, but that won’t take you too far. When you’re given $9.99 in credits it seems like a treat, but the good stuff on Crazy Live Cams is sort of expensive. Listen to your grandma and don’t spend it all in one place.

Although there aren’t a shit ton of categories to choose from, you’ll still want to spread the love around a bit before settling on a favorite fuck. Every time we thought we found “the one,” another hooker would catch our attention and we would fall in love again. What Crazy Live Cams lacks in overall category, it more than makes up for in sheer choice. And we’re talking Grade A Prime Choice, yo.

It didn’t surprise us that we had to read and agree to a gagglefuck of privacy and conduct guidelines, but that didn’t stop us from pushing the limits anyway. It’s our job to see just how steadfast these fucktards are about their website. We discovered that Crazy Live Cams admins don’t mess around. They may have outstanding customer service with friendly reps, but piss off one of the models and there will be someone different on the line. Just click on the pictures you like or navigate to a specific category and shut the fuck up.

Who’s on the Site?

Like we said, the lack of categories is noticeable right off the bat, but we found more than enough variety to have a good time. There are three different sections: women, men, and tranny. But, when you click on one of those sections you will immediately see the different categories within them and be able to choose which one you want. There is a little categorical overlapping within the sections. We will address that next.

WOMEN

Solo girls

Lesbians

Fetish artists

Big/Small tits

Fingering/Fisting

Dom/Sub

Deepthroat

Mommy/MILF

Hot Flirters

Petite/BBW

Shaved/Hairy pussy

Short/long hair

Unwilling/Willing

Squirting

Toys

MEN

Boy-like

Gay

Skinny/Muscular

Small/Large penis

Bald/Long hair

Unwilling/Willing

TRANNY

Petite

BBW

Small/Large penis

Small/Large tits

Short/Long hair

Close-up

Unwilling/Willing

Fingering

Deepthroat

The entire website can be switched to read in just about any language you can think of, and sheer number of multi-lingual models is staggering. Furthermore, Crazy Live Cams is part of an enormous network of live sex websites that are hosted by CumTV. That may or may not explain the quality of the models found when you click around. Don’t forget about the discount hoes in the “Sale” category either. You know their self-esteem can’t take much more rejection.

As for the categorical overlap, each of the sections has the following options in addition to the ones listed above:

Live orgasm

Leather

Stockings

Teen 18+

Mature/Senior

Anal

Striptease

Tattoos

Piercings

Smoking

Soulmates

Couples

Group sex

Toys

There are filters for ethnicity and age as well, so finding a mature redheaded Latina with her nipples pierced isn’t as hard as you think. Crazy Live Cams may have reduced the number of categories on their site, but they sure as hell made sure to keep the cream of the crop in play and we appreciate that shit.

What’s in It for Me?

When you become a registered user of Crazy Live Cams you become privy to a bunch of stuff that makes the whole experience a lot more interactive. For example, there is a cam-to-cam two-way audio option in both the free and private chats. Considering the video quality is usually HD, shit like that can get raunchy fast. The audio quality on their end is on point, so make sure your own equipment is functioning properly or you’ll look like a dumbass.

Another way to ensure everyone online thinks you’re an idiot: Update your status on your profile. While it is probably designed to help horny people break the ice with sexy strangers, it usually accomplishes little more than creating unrealistic expectations and more awkwardness. We wouldn’t suggest speaking to folks when your cock is hard or your pussy is wet, but that’s just us.

That’s not the toughest decision to make while on Crazy Live Cams though. You’ll eventually have to choose how much fucking you want. There is only one type of membership, but you can purchase different packages. Just keep in mind what we said earlier: “Money ain’t for nothin’ if chicks are free.”

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

It took us quite some time to figure out what we didn’t like about Crazy Live Cams, but our stuck-up asses were still able to pull it off. In a world where nothing is perfect, the closest thing any of us will get is a decent orgasm. We’re here to make sure that’s exactly what happens. It’s time for us to get to work:

PROS

Hoes in Every Area Code – The models on this site are smokin’ hot and come from all over the world.

Spread It Around – Since the different packages are all competitively priced, your money goes a long way (but not as far as it would go if everything were free, just sayin’).

Don’t Start No Shit, Won’t Be No Shit – The Crazy Live Cams customer service agents are cool as hell as long as you play by the rules listed on the TOS page.

Right This Way – The site is set up so that users and models can merge in an almost organic way.

A Site for Sore Eyes – We thought the overall quality of the site and its virtual hookers was impressive, especially when compared to some of the other shit we’ve seen. The main page looks like a damn magazine cover for fuck sakes.

Free Bird – Upon registering, you automatically get 10 free credits (equal to $9.99 in cost-free fucking). It might not be a lot but it’s a start and that’s something. We think.

Booty On-Call – Crazy Live Cams is up and running around the clock, so there’s always time for a midnight snack.

Rock the Vote – Registered users can vote for the models they like the most and earn rewards for themselves and the hookers who win. Score!

CONS

Who Knew? – With so much good content and sexy interaction, we can’t figure out why the site only has about 1,000 members. Is there something we don’t know?

Model Mayhem – There are hundreds of models on the site, but some of them are repeats from other sites that are also hosted by CumTV. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles apparently.

Bore Whore – Some of the models have had their egos inflated to the point that they are impossibly fussy and generally boring to interact with. We don’t understand how you can work for one of these sites and have any pride left.

Rack It Up – The costs for things can rack up quickly and there is no way to tell what your total is without exiting the chat to looking it up. It doesn’t help that your credit card info is taken at the time of registration to “simplify” things. Watch your ass, because the hoes will rob you blind if you let them.

When Judgment Day Comes

This part of the review is the bane of our existence. We have to sum all this shit up and give you a rating, and that’s the hardest thing for us besides our dicks. We suppose if Crazy Live Cams had a few more members, a better variety of models, and lower costs we would give it a better score. For now though, this site is getting an 8 and that’s as good as it gets.

With so many different live sex cam websites out there, it’s refreshing to see someone doing something different. By different, we mean Crazy Live Cams is making this shit more interactive and customizable. Although their category game is lacking and their reps play hardball, the video and audio quality is on par with the best out there. We wouldn’t suggest this site to our best friend, but we might mention it to someone at the grocery store.

There isn’t much more than we can say about this site – good or bad – other than that we haven’t noticed any new models there since the last time we visited. Then again, we always seem to choose the same types of hoes. Despite our bad habits, the ones who stick around are sexy enough for us to look the other way when it comes to Crazy Live Cam’s hiring practices (or lack thereof). We will do our best to check back in a while to see if anything changes, but for now, we think Crazy Live Cams is well worth a bookmark on your browser.

from Best Live Sex Web Cams http://www.bestlivesexwebcams.com/sex-chat-sites/crazylivecams/