#to be clear - i didn't make the page. it just turned up in my google results when i was checking for new reviews.

[breelandwalker]

...................I HAVE A WHAT!?!?!?!?!?

Hex Positive on imdb

[automaticpizzahologram]

I'm not German or speak German so sorry if I translate it wrong just blame Google translate

Both bill and the reader are 16

" Hallo i-ich bin y/n" ( hello I'm y/n).

I say, well try to say. I'm trying to learn German by myself just for something to do. I don't think I will ever need it but it's gonna be awesome to say I can speak more than one language and that's German, plus German people have amazing accents that make them sound fantastic.

I sit on the swings staring down and the miniature sized book in my hands . Even though I'm swinging slightly the swing still  screeches . It's not the best park, it has a broken roundabout that barely spins, the slide gives kids burns no matter what you wear. The over flowing bin thats full of beer bottles and other stuff I probably don't want to know about.

Everything in the park has worn out, dull paint on it. It looks like no one has been in for years and that's kinda true ever since the new park was added all the younger kids go there, it's in the nicer part of town as well.

It seems as though only drug addictics, drunkes and some teens go to this park now which is normally at night so sometimes I get this place all to myself.

My eyes quickly skim the page.

"alright so they pronounce their 'w' 's as v' s. So wine would be vine?" I look up to the clear blue sky and sigh. Closing the book I put it on the floor. I pick up my phone from the ground and skip my music till I find a more upbeat song, I place my phone back on to the floor then I start to swing getting higher and higher.

I sit swinging for about 45 minutes being in my own little world while listening to music watching the world go by. I slowly slow down draging my feet on the gravel and pull myself to a stop. I slip off my headphones and place them around my neck. Jumping of of the swing I bend down and pick up my book, phone and my bottle of water, I place my phone into my Jeans pocket. I start to head out of the park when I drop my waterbottle . I reach down stretching my arm out ready to grab the bottle when another hand beats me to it. I look up at the person ready to say thank you and I'm met with a really pretty, tall, skinny boy with longish black hair. 

" Thanks, you didn't have to do that but I appreciate it"

"Don't worry, it was no problem. I'm Bill" the German accent catching my attention. Bill holds my bottle out and I reach to get it.

" Thanks" I say again "I'm y/n" grabbing the waterbottle.

Bill steps to the side  slightly and that's when I notice another boy with dreadlocks.

"This is my brother Tom."

" it's nice to meet you but I probably should be going. Have a nice day" I say and continue to walk out of the park and along the path heading home. I turn to look back at the park and catch bill still looking at me, he doesn't turn away quickly as I thought he would, he just continues to look. I turn back around and continue my way home.

~~~~~~~°°~~~~~~~°°~~~~~~~°°~~~~~~

I kick my shoes of at the door and set down my book and waterbottle on the bench. I look at my waterbottle thinking back to the boy in the park and his brother, they looked about my age.

I open the snack cupboard and take out a pack of sour patch kids I grab my book and water and head up to my room.

Closing the door I chuck the sour patch kids on my bed as well as my waterbottle .

My room isn't very big. It has light gray walls with windows on both the front and the back of my room. My beds near the front of the room, my conserlation bedding make my room look more  neater for some odd reason. I have about fifty thousand plants dotted around in different coloured plant pots. My room doesn't really have a theme it's just random.

For a small room I have a lot of stuff and I don't even need it. I don't use the things so there's no point in having them but it's the fact that most of the stuff is gifts and things that I might in the future, who knows.

I walk over to my bed and  get on. lying on my stomach I reach to my right and put my book on my book shelf that has far to many books for it, and if I'm being honest I have 4 books on the go that need finishing.

I open the bag of sour patch and start scrolling on Instagram.

After about 15 minutes I get bored. I chuck my phone to the side and get up from my bed streching as I do so.

I hear the door open and close from my mum coming in from work.

"I'M BACK " she shouts. My mums pretty chill, just don't get on her bad side.

"OK" I shout back

"is your sister In?"

"no, she's staying at jasmine's tonight"

" should we order in tonight then"

I run out of my room and down the stairs into the sitting room. Not only is my room small every rooms small. My mum's sitting on the sofa scrolling through what I'm guessing is a takeaway menu.

"how does Chinese sound?"  mum says looking up from the menu on her phone.

"yeah that sounds great"

We normally order in if maddison is out because she doesn't like eating fatty foods, she says its going to ruin her skin and figure . I mean when I was 14 i had okay skin a few spots every now and then  but I didn't stop eating stuff  because of it. The acne has gone now thankfully, and I'm happy about how I look because I relised that unless I get plastic surgery, which is hella expensive, I can't change the way I look.

About 12 minutes later mom gets a phone call.

I don't pay attention until I hear my name being mentioned, I turn my head towards mum now interested in the conversation that mums having.

"No, I'm sure she'll be fine with going, one sec, I'll tell her"

"y/n, sweetheart, maddison wants to go to this concert thing with jasmine in 2 or 3 weeks, apparently they have vip tickets or what ever you call them. And they want you to go are you okay with that" she says looking over to me

"yeah, sure, I don't mind"  mum turns back to facing forward again.

" your sister says yes she'll go with you"

"Okay, bye love you" mum hangs up the phone and turns back towards me.

" Are you sure you're okay with going?"

"yeah I need to get out anyway, did she say who we're going to see"

"no I don't think so, only that they have back stage passes, apparently jasmine's parents bought them for her and accidently bought 3 instead of two without knowing. You know how rich people are"

Hi everyone thanks so much for reading.

I have no clue what happens at a concert cause I have never been to one never mind back stage so please bare with me. I'll try and update as much as I can.

[madame-ellunas-moonlit-readings]

May 8 - Foul Bauble Of Man's Vanity

Re Dracula/Dracula Daily

So, I got distracted and now I'm behind by about a week. So be it, I'll catch up. Starting with this one.

Serious props to the voice actors here. Jonathon's stressed venting over being trapped and in danger, and Dracula's fervent rant over his people's history were excellent. I was drawn right in. They really set the tension and the tone. There were no skipped bits this round, so just a reaction to the podcast today. And a little definitions bit at the bottom for the words I had to google.

Jonathon has stopped turning his back on his ill feelings and the numerous red flags, grateful even for his older descriptive journal entries to refer upon and determined to keep clear record onwards. I guess not seeing someone in the mirror and getting choked out would be too much for anyone to hide from. That and his destructive tendencies.

I like how he takes the time to feel gratitude for the rosary and the woman who gifted it, wondering on the manner in which it works. Also the little tangent, 'now I can't shave! how annoying!'. Coping skills 101.

He's not just kept older fears to heart but has started actively looking into things as well. Thanks to that he knows that there are no servants, only himself and Dracula, that the man hasn't consumed anything and that there's no way out. All the doors are locked and his window just leads to a precipice ending in rivers, chasms and forests, all easily seen from the castle. It's no wonder the poor man ran about the place in a panic.

Jonathon is taking care with his interactions with Count Dracula too, planning ahead, how to react, how to behave, what to, what not say. He's even gone with so bold a move as to dig out personal information from the man himself. And wasn't that interesting.

Count Dracula fell for it, hook line and sinker. He fell into a fervent rant over the histories, follies and glories of his blood, his people, his land. He ranted on wars and battles, dismissed more pacifist and communal behaviours, which showed a lot into his personality, his priorities and his attitude towards others. He even clued Jonathon in on who he is was, when he came from, his role in the past, when he went on about his achievement against the Turks.

Was it not this Dracula, indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age again and again brought his forces over the great river into Turkey-land; who, when he was beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had to come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph! They said that he thought only of himself. Bah! what good are peasants without a leader?

Overall, it was a stellar success on Jonathon's part. It could even make for a historical record there. What a thing for a historian to get their hands on.

Jonathon has a point though. This, like with the other nights, didn't end til morn. He compared it the beginning of the "Arabian Nights" or the ghost of Hamlet's father, ending at cockcrow. Not very comforting comparisons.

It was an interesting chapter. Very informative. Love the building stress, the increasing urgency and the worldbuilding.

My little definitions page, in the order they came up. Almost all are directly copy pasted, with some hyperlinks for clarification sake.

Diffuse: lacking clarity or conciseness, verbose, wordy, longwinded

Prosaic: without interest, imagination, and excitement, prose lacking poetic terms and verbosity

Demoniac: possessed or influenced by a demon

Boyar: a high ranking member of Russian aristocracy, serving under the prince

Szekelys: Székely people are ancient Hungarians, living in Transylvania in Székelyföld (Szeklerland), situated in Romania

Ugric: Ugrians or Ugors were the ancestors of the Hungarians of Central Europe, and the Khanty and Mansi people of the Khanty-Mansi Autonomous Okrug of Russia.

Scythia: or Scythica was the region of Eastern Europe corresponding to the Pontic steppe. The Scythians were an ancient Eastern Iranian equestrian nomadic people.

Attila: Attila the Hun was the leader of the Hunnic Empire from 434 to 453. Attila the Hun is used as a figure for an extremely vicious fighter or cruel person, especially in political contexts.

Magyar: The Magyars were horsemen from the Pontic-Caspian steppe. Their people make up the majority of the Hungarians.

Lombard: a Germanic people who conquered most of the Italian Peninsula from 568 to 774. They originated from Scandinavia.

Avar: a nomadic equestrian people from central Asia who built up an empire in the area between the Adriatic and the Baltic seas from the 6th century.

Bulgar: The Bulgars were Turkic semi-nomadic warrior tribes that flourished in the Pontic–Caspian steppe and the Volga region during the 7th century.

Arpad: Árpád was the head of the confederation of the Magyar tribes at the turn of the 9th and 10th centuries. He was a ruler of what we now call Hungary.

Honfoglalas: the Hungarian conquest of the Carpathian Basin

Cassova: or Kosovo. Kosovo, officially the Republic of Kosovo is a landlocked partially recognised state in Southeast Europe, lying in the centre of the Balkans.

Wallach: the people of Wallachia, now Romania

Voivode: a local ruler, governor or military commander, especially the semi-independent rulers of Transylvania, Wallachia, or Moldova before c1700.

Mohács: is a town in Baranya County, Hungary, on the right bank of the Danube. The Battle of Mohács was fought on 29 August 1526 near Mohács.

Hapsburgs: aka the House of Austria. One of the most prominent and important dynasties in European history.

Romanoffs: or the Romanovs. The Russian imperial family in control from 1613 to 1917. Famous for the murder of the Romanov family wherein Princess Anastasia went missing, presumed dead.

[sapphyreopal5]

Did you see a certain someone deleted her instagram account? Why do that if you’ve got nothing to hide?

Hello Anon thank you for the ask. Yes, I did see she truly temporarily deactivated her account for a few hours last week. I see you sent this ask in last week about an hour after I myself was told by someone that her profile can't be found (and I myself couldn't either). At first glance with the last post she created, it sounds like she decided to leave her account up but to consider it deactivated. She claimed she will only leave her IG up so people can read that post and left a few other posts up. The post also claims she showed up to her makeover that day crying from all of the Megyn Kelly statement and following criticism of her looks. However, upon closer inspection, assuming the "after" photo Megyn used in talking about the said plastic surgeries she's had, it is in fact from the day she got that same makeover with the heavy contouring. This to me implies she was upset about other things before she got this makeover. "I got my makeup done that day and it involves major contouring and I remember leaving and feeling pretty. And even that day was an immensely stressful day for me. I came running to these girls and I showed up in tears after what happened that day and I left feeling better because I felt like they had reduced my lack of sleep and worked their magic wands. I saw the comments, scathing enough to just turn off my comments." For reference, here is the video clip where Megyn Kelly made the remarks alleging Erin has had some work done.

Also earlier in this same post she stated "I had no idea what was going on, to be honest, because I've had one of the most challenging weeks of my life". She certainly implied there were other things going on that week prior to people making more criticisms over her looks. As for what upset her before the makeover, I believe that based on a post I saw about a couple weeks or so ago in her story, her new puppy got sick as at least part of why she was upset and sleep deprived. In 2 of 3 bullet points in this story, she said f*ck you to people who don't clean up after their dogs. I unfortunately don't have the screenshot of this, as I recently cleared my phone out some.

Now, as for whether Megyn was lying or not.... Just a couple days ago Daily Mail wrote an article showing her walking her dogs with a "natural complexion" (which I by the way disagree with the author that she was makeup free here). This last post of hers stated what Megyn said was false news. Looking at the most recent photos of her from that Daily Mail story and then also some from just a few months ago, I do notice quite a bit of a difference between her looks as of a couple weeks ago versus a few months ago. Whether she simply lost a lot of weight from stress or if she really doesn't want to admit she's had work done is up to you to decide. One cannot deny that she looks a good bit different from how she did 10 years ago. I believe it can logically be said that Megyn's remarks simply are what made the water boil over. I will certainly say this too. I saw some of the comments on her last post and one user made a good point: deleting all of her most recent photos off her Instagram certainly helps her case none whatsoever, and in my opinion just fueled the fire even more.

She has a very interesting history when it comes to her social media page and the posts she makes, deleting posts, clearing out pages she follows, etc. I know at one point based on what her Socialblade analysis said, she removed 68 posts and unfollowed 207 out of 605 pages sometime between 9/25 and 9/28 from her profile (talk about scrubbing). I remember a post she made on 1/18 that said "your “wyd” hour is my “sit back & watch the red flags fly” hour" she deleted on 1/23. Again, I removed some of my screenshots from my phone and didn't capture it on my desktop but it still shows up in Google searches as seen in the link above so it did once exist.

And no, not everything shows up on archive websites as this article here discusses particularly with Instagram having more strict privacy policies and sometimes Instagram will straight up deny permission to archive posts to archiving software and websites, such as Wayback Machine.

When she reactivated her profile, she went from having 194 media to just now 11. Of course, she's also deleted other posts she's made in the past usually within a few weeks after made but during her last scrubbing she removed some that were more than a year old.

She's also turned off comments on her posts multiple times in the past. As for why she does not have a social media manager, I couldn't say for sure (although some have said in the past she doesn't have the means to hire one). It's also interesting to note that she followed 1 new page yesterday on her so called "deactivated" Instagram account. As the Daily Mail author of their latest story on her appearing in LA walking her dogs said, she was clearly glued to her phone when she was out. I would say she made it a point to be seen "makeup free" by the paparazzi after what Megyn said about her but that's just me speculating...

I say this with respect and out of concern for her well-being. As someone who has educational and work background in healthcare and even psychology, I have reasons to believe that she has some mental health issues she needs to get addressed and that's 100% okay. Anyone who says they don't have something going on in this crazy world is frankly a liar. However, I definitely do think that she had a very dramatic reaction to Megyn Kelly's statements about her. She could've simply pointed out how Megyn used a decade old photo but incorrectly calling it a year old. This would've effectively made Megyn Kelly look like an idiot and could've just left it at that. Deleting all of her most recent photos merely fueled the fire in my opinion as I said earlier in this post.

I believe she made this last post/public statement to Megyn Kelly as a cry for help and yes in that, for attention. She made another story late last night that says thank you to the people who are sharing their stories and that she wants to hear what others have to say. She's probably a very sweet girl like those who have met her at conventions have said but fact is, she is certainly very sensitive and I question if her skin is thick enough to last in the entertainment industry. Time will tell of course but the reality is, no matter who you are in the show biz people will always have unrealistic expectations of your looks and you will always have critics (some more than others).

Thank you for the ask Anon.

[authorsadiethatcher]

Welcome to March. In the northern hemisphere, where I live, it is the start of meteorological spring. Except the weather didn't switch with the month and things here are starting out wet and cold. But the extra indoor time should be good for writing.

Last month I talked about finally being caught up on writing. I try to maintain pretty strict deadlines, but I fell off at the end of February. Two days behind schedule may not seem like a lot, but it feels like a lot, especially when working on longer books, which I'll talk more about later.

The big news for this month is something I can't actually share yet. But pay attention on March 9 for some cool news from me. I just don't like having to wait, but it's something I'm really excited about.

A quick reminder that you can find my books on Amazon, Smashwords, Google Play Books, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Everand. You can also read everything I’ve published under my Sadie Thatcher name since last May on Ream, which is a subscription platform built specifically for authors. You can check out my Ream page below.

Ream: https://reamstories.com/sadiethatcher

And speaking of Ream, I have a Ream exclusive novel called The Muse (extreme dollification) that is now complete. I've made the first three chapters available for free. All you have to do is sign up as a follower at the link above to get a taste of my first real story that is too extreme for Amazon.

This month I plan to spend some time on my other pen name, Libby Feron. As Libby, I write fantasy romance. I’ll have a free novella available to prepare for a new trilogy that I hope to publish this year. The trilogy will be focused on a previously introduced character as she heads off to a college for magical people. I don’t talk about my fantasy writing often, so checking out https://libbyferon.com/ and signing up for the email newsletter is the best way to stay informed. And that free novella will be exclusive to newsletter subscribers, so you’ll want to sign up for that. However, I'm also considering an entirely different book to clear out the cobwebs in my head. We'll see.

Now to focus on this month’s upcoming books. I have two ongoing series. Bimbo Future will soon be complete with Free to Be releasing in a few days. This will follow a similar pattern of a fairy showing a woman a possible bimbo future and persuading her to choose that over a more conventional life. And then there's Quantum Bimbo. This is a slow burn transformation series following one woman as she encounters a recurring time loop that leads her down a path toward becoming a bimbo. The first book, Déjà Vu, is out now and the rest of the trilogy will be released in the first half of the month. I'm really excited for this series.

Some of the other upcoming books I’ve got in the pipeline for this month is a series based on the concept of a woman's intelligence, or other aspects of her life, being stolen and held for ransom, forcing her to turn toward bimbo jobs to pay the ransom. But once she goes bimbo, it's hard to stop. I've also got a plan for another series that could include societal changes. I'm keeping my cards on this one close to the chest, because I'm not entirely sure what is going to happen in it yet.

Something else I'm considering, but I'm only considering right now, is to write a few flash fiction stories, one or two per month, and put them up on Ream for free for anyone who wants to follow me there. It's time permitting, of course.

So that’s what you can expect in March. It’s a packed month, especially because my schedule will make for 11 published books this month. I average 10 usually with a release every 3 days. There will be a couple months like this in 2024, with 11 releases instead of 10.

Have a sexy and bimbo-filled March and happy spring in the top half of the world!

[ilyasorokinn]

this love , freddie andersen

note, this fic is apart of emmie's (@jostystyles) 2.6k top tracks writing challenge, so everyone give a big hand to emmie for putting this together. i love you and you're wonderful. anyways, this is NOT apart of the taylor's version series. just want to make that note too. also, i don't use the entire song. another note, happy birthday to my favorite dane. you're so slay, and i love you so much, and i'll see you in 2 weeks :) pair, freddie andersen x reader summary, freddie had come into y/n’s life just as quick as he left or a fic inspired by "this love" taylor swift. warnings, angst? and it is a little short, but it promise it's good lol word count, 1924 words

(gif not mine)

clear blue water high tide came and brought you in and i could go on and on, on and on and i will skies grew darker currents swept you out again and you were just gone and gone, gone and gone

Freddie had come into your life just as quick as he left. It was a bright and sunny day when he walked into your life. It was a cliche, which should've been a red blaring light in your head, but you pushed it to the back of your mind and paid all your attention to the attractive Dane in front of you.

You met after a lousy date. He was picking up an order at the restaurant you were at and saw you sitting alone. It was a little forward of him, but he sat down in front of you, and boom!

*flashback*

Your date, whose name you had forgotten, had left long ago, but you found yourself still at the table, swirling your straw around the cup. The restaurant wasn't too packed which was probably why they hadn't kicked you out yet.

This was the third guy you had met online and agreed to go on. date with, and you were starting to lose hope. Right as you were about to grab the waiter, a really tall guy pulled out the chair in front of you.

You stared at him like he was crazy, and he probably was, but the suit he was wearing said he wasn't some random guy who had stumbled in, "Um..."

"Okay, I don't normally do this, nor have I ever done this." He began, "But you looked really lonely, and I didn't want you to be sitting alone." He looked sincere, but this was still very much out of the blue.

"That's very nice." You smiled, "But I gotta go."

"Are you gonna walk home?"

"No, the buses are still running, so..." You shrugged.

"No, don't. I'll drive you home." He stood up with you, and you hesitated, "I swear I'm not a murderer." You raised a brow, "You can look me up. My name's Freddie Andersen."

You stared at him for a moment, before pulling out your phone and looking him up. You were more than surprised to find that he had a google page that wasn't just photos of all the Freddie Andersen's in the world, it was actually him.

You looked back up at him, "Does that work on all the other girls?"

"I don't know, never done it before. I'll let you know tomorrow."

*flashback over*

You only went out for a couple months, but they left a big imprint on your life. For those couple of months, your entire life was Freddie Andersen. Then, one day, he was there, then he wasn't.

The day he left, was quite the opposite of when you first met him. It was cloudy and dark, and when you were driving home, it was pouring down rain.

tossing, turning struggled through the night with someone new baby, i could go on and on, on and on lantern, burning flickered in my mind, only you but you were still gone, gone, gone

A few months after you and Freddie broke up, you tried to move on. Your friends set you up with a guy, and for the first time, you found yourself finally laughing, even if his jokes were cheesy.

Maybe, you were moving a little fast in this relationship, but you didn't really care. Your friends were worried at the pace at which you were moving, but you paid them no mind.

You were attempting to sleep, but whenever you closed your eyes, the only thing you saw was Freddie. You tossed and turned the whole night, and your new boyfriend, Andy, had woken up a couple times during the night to your turning onto your side.

The next morning, you were up and out of bed before him, and you were making coffee by the time he was awake, "Good morning." You smiled as if you weren't absolutely exhausted.

"Morning." He smiled. He grabbed the mug you had made for him a took a long sip, "So..." He began.

"So...?" You turned to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You asked.

"It's nothing, it's just..." He took another sip of coffee, "All last night, you were tossing and turning, and I think you actually kicked me at one point."

"Did I? I knew it." You winced.

"Are you okay?" He repeated.

"I'm fine. Just stressed about work." You brushed it off.

"All right, well you know I'm here for you." He squeezed your hand.

"I know." You nodded. He smiled and walked back down the hallway to get ready for work while you stood in the kitchen, rethinking the entirety of your relationship.

in losing grip on sinking ships you showed up just in time

Before Freddie sat down in front of you, were about ready to give up and accept your fate of being single and lonely, but after he sat down, it felt like everything fell into place.

It was like a puzzle, and he was the missing piece. He swopped in, and suddenly, your life was flipped upside down.

*flashback*

After work, you had no plans. The only thing getting you through the workday was the thought of getting home, lounging on the couch, and catching up on some trashy TV you missed. You didn't expect Freddie to come knocking on your door, a bag of your favorite food in hand.

"What're you doing here?" You smiled, moving away and letting him walk into your kitchen.

"Just thought I'd come and surprise you." He shrugged, taking out all the to-go boxes and setting them on your island. He grabbed two plates and started forking out food onto the plates.

When he carried both plates towards the couch, "Grab forks and something to drink."

"I'm all out of beer." You told him.

"Well, bring out that sparking water or whatever." He waved his hand as if he didn't like the Buble water too.

You shook your head with a smile and grabbed two cans of the sparking water and joined him on the couch, "So, why're you really here?"

"I already told you."

"Yeah, I know, now I want the truth."

"I could tell you had a bad day." He admitted.

"How could you tell? We didn't talk at all today."

"You sent quick 1-word texts." He answered, "Usually it's a sentence or even a few words, but whenever it's 1-word text, then something's usually wrong."

You smiled at his admission. He was right in that you did have a sort of bad day, and the fact that he deduced that through your texts made you fall even more in love with him.

"Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself." You laughed.

"I'm just very observant." He shrugged it off, and you went on with your night.

You were both in bed and you could tell Freddie was close to falling asleep, but you were wide awake, staring up at the ceiling even in the darkness.

There was only one thing running through your mind and you knew you had to get it off your chest, "Freddie?" You whispered. He let out a sleep-filled groan, "I have to tell you something."

"Hmm." He groaned, turning to face you tiredly, but his eyes were still closed.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and if you hadn't come into my life that day, I think I might've just given up on the idea of being with someone. Things would have been very different for me. So, I guess, I'm just thankful for you."

"I'm thankful for you, too." He spoke with a smile as he pulled you into him, pressing a kiss to your head as he held you tight, "And I love you, too."

*flashback over*

this love left a permanent mark this love is glowing in the dark, oh-oh, oh these hands had to let it go free, and this love came back to me, oh-oh, oh

Even though you were only together for a short period of time, Freddie left a lasting imprint on your life. Almost every free moment you had was spent with each other, and in the moments you weren't together, you were thinking about him and vice-versa.

your kiss, my cheek, i watched you leave your smile, my ghost, i fell to my knees when you're young, you just run but you come back to what you need

In the weeks leading up to your breakup, you thought everything was going well, but when he dropped the bomb that he wanted to break up, everything stopped.

The clock ticking on the wall stopped ticking, the coffee in the pot stopped brewing, the movie playing in the living room stopped playing, your heart stopped and you felt your airways close.

After the words "I think we should break up", everything out of Freddie's mouth sounded like Charlie Brown's parents. It was all distorted.

He approached you and cupped your face, placing a lasting kiss on your forehead, before pulling away and looking into your eyes. You looked deep into his too and saw the underlying pain in them.

You watched him, frozen in your spot, as he picked up his bags and headed out the door. Once the door was shut, you finally broke down.

You fell to your knees and let out a cry. You let yourself cry for hours and hours. You eventually your way to the bed where you stayed there for almost a week.

Your friend eventually came to check on you after you hadn't responded to her texts, where she found you in bed. She picked you back up off the ground both figuratively and literally. She helped you get back up on your feet and helped you become you again.

this love is good, this love is bad this love is alive back from the dead, oh-oh, oh these hands had to let it go free, and this love came back to me, oh-oh, oh

5 years later

You found yourself sitting at a table post-date. This date, compared to the others, was actually quite good. He asked questions that he actually wanted to know the answers to, he showed up a couple minutes earlier than you (which you only knew because you were early too), and he laughed at your jokes, which all the other dates didn't find funny.

But still, you found yourself sitting alone after the date, a weird pit in your stomach. It was weird. He was a great guy but it didn't feel right.

At that very moment, Frederik Andersen was walking into the restaurant, and while he waited for the waiter to bring back his bag of food, he looked around the room and spotted you easily.

It was almost like a lone spotlight was shining on you and was drawing him in. He grabbed the bag of food and made his way over to you.

He smiled, pulling out a chair. You looked up startled but when he saw it was him, your face softened.

"I don't normally do this," You smiled at the familiar words, "But you looked really lonely, and I didn't want you to be sitting alone."

"That's very nice." You smiled, repeating the same words you all 6 years before when Freddie had sat down in front of you at the restaurant.

-

my taglist: @mitch-slap @kolsmikaelson @ashleymarine @typical-simplelove @rosesvioletshardy @laurenairay @kidlnthedark @bowen-power @lam-ila @catahshart @stars-canucks @drei-mrssvechii @iwantahockeyhimbo @2manytabsopen @owenpowersglasses @calermakar08 @hamilton160 @pierrelucduboiis @thescooby-gang @sammysworldddd @mista-svech @paintlavillered @hyppeln-agnes @samanthasgone @hockeyboysarehot @nicoleloveshockey @thedukes-56-5 @tkachukswife @hockeyunits @sidcrosbyspuck @dumbxblond3 @kaydenissleepy @Yagetintoit @seventieswhore @MichelleKirby30 @jamieeboulos @Coffeeandteaandflowers @bibella8swan @cuttergauth @boqvistsbabe @sophia-bordeleau

add yourself to my taglist!

[wtl-archive]

Det er mærkeligt. Jeg har gået over de nye logs i dag, og jeg fandt denne mærkelig besked: [ User Pink Diamond has logged on. ] Og det er fra Tiffany’s Coms Prism. Det er en række andre ting some denne “Pink Diamond” bruger har gjort sig, såsom at see igennem Tiff’s logs. Hmmm… der eksisterer ikke nogen Pink Diamond her, men jeg ved at der helt klart er nogen ude der. Jeg… Jeg håber bare at det ikke er ham. Der er mange andre det kunne være, siden der er adskillige timelines derude der har deres egen Pink Diamond eller hybrider. Men Tiffany ville ikke bare overrække sin Prism like that. Denne Coms Prism er muligvis kompromitteret. Jeg venter lige på om Tiffany logger på igen eller skrive tilbage just in case, men hvis ikke, så bliver jeg nødt til at blokere linjen til denne Line. 

Intermission 09 - Discontinuity

Read all the pages in order here.

Blog Info

Artist Credit: NugatorySheep (lines/colors) || hugthesquids (sketches/layout/colors)

Writer Credit: hugthesquids

✨Oh emm gee, it's the other bastard that's ruined my life! ✨

Mmm. But, before I go down that depression pit, let's cover the details of this part of the AU.

First things first, as mentioned in the previous tags, I do not speak Danish. I have the translations for all the entries, but to dig them up requires I go through pages and pages of pain and I've tortured myself enough by even uploading this archive. So, ya'll just gon' have to deal with Google Translate. It's not too bad with translating these but there's some jank for sure. For this log specifically though, you won't need to translate anything as it's just a word for word repeat of what Sven says above.

This intermission happens a few hours after Prime Steven and Connie read through the leftover logs in Intermission 01: Tiffany Stone's Log, as you can see by the user record in the first page, making it one of the few intermissions we planned to post that showed an event that happened earlier in the story then when the reader is seeing it. The other five being for Druid (Intermissions 02, 04, 05, and 06) or for Soda Lime (Intermission XXX - A Crack In Time). Don't worry, we'll get to Soda...

The nature of Druid's meant that most of his were always going to be set in the past, but for the most part, intermissions were usually meant to take place in-universe at around the same time followers of the blog would see them. All that being said, it was important that anyone reading would be able to understand when these events were taking place, and given that a lot people seemed to forget the first intermission existed (I guess reading is too hard...?) spelling it out clearly here was a must.

Secondly... I do really like how these pages turned out. There was some... rough patches getting them done. I got a little excited and basically steamrolled the creation of them after I was shown the sketches and it wasn't the first time I got too invested in something and just breezed through it, only to realize that I jumped the gun and didn't give much room for outside input. Hyperfixations are a helluva drug. In hindsight I should've slowed down. But... hiccups aside... I was proud of the art I helped create. I thought it was spectacular. Now I can't look at it without feeling dread. Hmmph. Anyway.

Lastly, the logs were initially posted around April Fools, with this log being posted on Sven's canonical birthday, April 7th. (I chose that date 'cause two of my friends were born on the 7th of April and April's birthstone is Diamond. Felt fitting). The idea was that the first post, being written in Danish and when translated seemed to be completely random and mundane, would be taken as an April Fool's joke by readers, only for this to be posted on the 7th and make it clear that no, it's not a joke and this is all Very Serious Business.

Thing is... Sven was not originally planned to appear this early on in the AU. Not that I have an issue with it, it was just something that got pushed to be sooner, mostly because, like Druid, Sven became a favorite of a lot of people in the WTL Discord server. Me included...

I know that for ages people exclusively associated me with Druid, but that's only because for the longest fucking time he was the only character I could post about publicly without spoiling the entire plot. But this bitch? This motherfucker right here? He's the other half of the equation. I assure you that for all of my obsessing over that old man, this coffee addicted teenager was sitting on the sidelines stalking my bitch ass like a fucking hawk.

I love this kid. I despise him. I want to give him the biggest hug and I want knock his brain out with a fucking hammer. I look at him and feel purest joy and the deepest regrets. For every part of me that adores him, another part wants to tear him to shreds.

I have a lot of Feelings about this child, alright?

I have a lot of Feelings about his co-creator too.

Maybe one day it won't bother me so much.

There's so much about Sven that just makes him feel obnoxiously important to me. Which, y'know, weird thing to say about an alternate universe version of a fictional character. I mean, for all intents and purposes Sven is like... a hop, skip and a jump away from being an OC. He's designed to be the polar opposite of his canon counterpart, but I think that's why I resonate with him so much...

Steven is a character I love, but he's not one I can fully relate to since his personality isn't much like mine. But Sven? He's the most similar to me out of the Core Six by far. At least, when *I* write him he is. (Even though most people seem to think I'm more like Druid... I think my online persona leans a little more towards him, but offline? Not so much).

As the AU progressed and ideas got added Sven kinda slipped away from me. If I realized how differently he was in my head vs how he was in everyone else's I don't think I would've let it go so far. Fact of the matter is... there's always been two versions of him and I was just too stupid to notice. And I got so frustrated with being told that I wasn't doing enough despite trying my best that I just decided it would be better if he wasn't my problem anymore. What was the point in stressing myself over something that was never mine to begin with?

I keep looking back and wondering what would've happened if I did things differently. If I never talked to X person, posted Y thing, asked Z question... If I went back in time, with the knowledge I have now, could I change the outcome?

I should've said no.

[wereh0gz]

I don't like how some people are treating shadow's age as some kinda debate. It really shouldn't be.

I see posts about it arguing shadow's 50 years old using faulty logic and "proof" like the VERY RECENT removal of sonic characters' ages from their sonic channel profiles or like. A single google search result. Not even going into the page and reading the whole article or whatever. Just the search result.

I don't like seeing misconceptions spread around. My original post was me wanting to clear it up, but even though I knew there was proof of it and had seen it before I couldn't find it. I didn't even put it in the main tags or anything originally because at the time I couldn't back it up. Now that I was able to, and the post gained a bit more traction... I see posts saying "no, shadow's actually 50 years old"

And like. Maybe I'm just being a bit paranoid, but I feel like those posts were made because of mine? They probably weren't because I've seen others like mine, but I feel like I may have played a part in keeping this whole dumb "debate" going when all I wanted to do was correct a misconception

Like. If you wanna ignore canon or whatever go ahead. Make shads an old man. I don't care and nobody can really stop you. We're all strangers on the internet, we can't reach through the screen to physically stop you from doing it.

I just don't get why are people wanna dispute him being a teenager so bad. Is it because they dislike sonadow and wanna make it hashtag problematique so they have a moral reason to dislike it? Or can they just not see shadow as a kid because of the way he acts? Or (and I really hope this isn't it) they just want an excuse to sexualize him without being seen as weirdos for sexualizing a kid?

(Not saying that's for sure the reason why, I'm just trying to think of possibilities here)

Why is shadow's age specifically being debated when characters like aang from atla went through a similar situation (hell he was even frozen for longer than shadow was, twice as long I think) yet are still considered the age they were frozen at?

I just. Don't get it? I'm very confused about this whole thing. It shouldn't be as big of a deal as it seems to be turning into, and I don't want it to be a big deal.

Just, like. Chill, please.

[198d]

...

So, working on a project and one aspect of it is making a really simple scientific poster. I'm the design guy, I do the front nd design since I'm the only person who knows basic html and css, the only person who has taken art and design classes, and I do this stuff for fun so I go ahead and take charge of the poster. Plus they really just don't have the intuition for design at all, even when I or the professors give clear instructions on How To Do Things Right. We have to make tons of drafts and get feedback on them, and its kind of a dripfeed because staff would make comments on some things, neglect to comment on the other things, and make us turn in another draft based on those missed comments.

Every single fucking time my teammates would work on it, I would have to go back and fix allllllll of the margins and padding they neglected, and I would have to remake every image of a diagram into a simplified, vectorized. Every time we had to change text or images based on the feedback, I would have to go back and change those as well. Today, while I was working on this, one of my teammates was literally trying to edit the same thing at the same time (using figma and diagrams.net). I was going to lose my mind because I was just trying to fix all of the issues, like I had to do multiple times, that my teammates would neglect from the feedback, and so this was actively happening while I was trying to fix them.

I had everything in their own groups, so that it would be easy to change things out. My teammates didn't know how to work with that. Earlier teammate literally did not understand that a file cannot have two different file extensions, and sent me a rasterized image of a diagram instead of the actual editable file, because diagrams.net just lets you have an "editable (so like, able to move around the individual elements) png" saved to your google docs, exported it as a plain png and posted it in the project chat. When I couldn't open it they then tried to tell me like, well it worked for me and well it has the other extension too so it should work. It was only the filename that had the 'extension' of the proper file format. (this is the big csc senior class btw)

The fact that we went back and forth so much on that diagram to begin with was frustrating because they could've given me access to the editable file at any time, and would constantly ignore or forget feedback which meant having to fix it many, many more times, and most of those fixes were still missing the core design feedback like 'make the text size bigger' and 'eliminate unnecessary whitespace'. If anything, it would've been much better if I went through with porting it to figma instead of relying on them, but I'm over here not wanting to be a total control freak so I'm like... whatever.

So when I get access to that diagram I fix issues from all of the feedback, but at the end of our final feedback they go and try to edit at the same fucking time as I am editing, and I had been fixing the diagram all day up to that point. Then the same thing happened on the figma document, and of course they deleted my group for the section the diagram was supposed to go in, so I had to make it again, fix the margins, fix the padding, fix the sizing.

They also completely trashed my design for a page I worked on for the project itself like waay earlier in the semester, so I was like. Okay. You guys do your thing, I can put in all my junk later. I would like to avoid wasting my time as much as possible, considering how mentally ill and exhausted I already am.

oh yeah and also the examples the professors put in the powerpoint for posters had the same (margins and spacing or text inconsistencies, bad looking screenshots, that kind of thing) or worse issues (think black impact font on a busy patterned background, for fucks sake) that they kept nitpicking us for, so its kinda like. please actually showcase something that's relevant thanks.

At least it's finally(?) over.

[leam1983]

Ruins

Watched Kyle Hill's video on the Dead Internet Theory - which AI has all but seemingly proven to be mostly true - and I came to the realization that we've already got the complete distaff counterpart to AI Techbro frenzy.

I'm referring to NeoCities pages.

NeoCities is a web-hosting service that's focused on bringing back something of the Internet of the late nineties and early aughts; the idea of scrappy, indubitably user-created content that has zero search engine relevance but high personal value. Sites about your summer vacation or to host your questionable Transformers slash-fics, or just sites that seemingly exist to resurrect the early aughts' gaming tentpoles like The Phrozen Keep - along with the flurry of GIFs that resulted from someone managing to open up Diablo's PAK files. If you remember Space Jam's website or downloading Jamella's Item Generator for Diablo, chances are you remember the exact aesthetic I'm referring to. Windows-core, Vaporwave, the era of the Frames-laden page meticulously sliced through Adobe Dreamweaver in the halcyon days that predated Big Red turning power-mad; the era of Lingo being used to assemble, line by line, the hottest PowerPoint analogue ever known to man.

I'm a child of that era. I came of age back when databases didn't have dedicated scrapers and crawlers; back when you could make a living out of picking up cartfuls of books for a library, day by day, and painstakingly entering them into a file system designed by and for human hands. Not so the database would swallow them and regurgitate something out, but just so visitors to the library would just need a few minutes to know exactly what they were looking for happened to be located. That was my first job as a teen, actually. FileMaker was my first taste of aggregation, back when it happened thanks to human labor only facilitated by the use of computers. In those days, most of everything online referred to something that wasn't. Happen to be a fan of a particular movie? Good, there's physical copies aplenty. All you'd find online would be supplemental material. Non-essential, but appreciated nonetheless.

I'm thinking this is what we need to bring back, to foster again. In an age where 98% of all web traffic is AI-powered, you realize we're letting bad actors obsessed with gaming SEO tools turn what should've been a modern Library of Alexandria accessible worldwide into meaningless slop written by no-one and designed for nobody. In two months, ChatGPT 4o is now able to produce more of a volume of text that has ever existed in human history - all of it with practically no oversight.

I'm glad, when I see Sam Altman take to the US Congress to plead for further regulations, even if his demands yield nothing. It means he's at least aware of the problem. Conversely, I'm saddened by Elon Musk's decision to just let Grok feed off of Twitter's database of posts - as if most of its current and former content base hadn't already been bot-powered. Google buying all of Reddit's data for the purposes of furnishing Gemini's training text is a small-scale catastrophe, as it shows a staggering ignorance of Reddit's userbase. It's almost as if Techbros think nobody shitposts online, except for themselves. The end result is, of course, both hilarious and terrifying, such as Gemini seriously suggesting that someone should eat a few small rocks on a daily basis - after pulling text from The Onion - or Google's generated responses stating that opening your parachute after jumping off a plane is a statistically unsound way of ensuring your survival.

Considering, I'm thinking we should entomb the web as we know it, leave it running for the sake of various business-related bespoke sites and tools - but stop interacting with it. Instead, we should build a new layer for the Clear Web, populated exclusively and monitored exclusively by humans.

Imagine a "clear" email server, for instance. The Mailer daemon is replaced with a flesh-and-bones Account Manager, whose job it is to filter out spam and mark out high-priority content. With the right hires, you could practically kill current scamming practices in the womb, using this technique. Echo chambers could become notably more porous if social networks were peer-reviewed, and a video hosting platform where "the algorithm" is literally just good old user engagement would be likely to be able to keep its levels of toxic content much lower than, say, YouTube ever could. If this new layer of the Internet were peer-driven, you could bring back all sorts of jobs that are currently threatened by AI, while retaining the lessons learned by the AI frenzy.

I'd also advocate for the old, AI-driven web to be preserved in a vertical slice. We could probably do away with most of it, but the current craze - and its noxious effects - shouldn't be forgotten. The Internet as we know it today is increasingly made by and for AI scrapers, and the idea of wiping everything and restarting is just as dangerous. AI is already the domain of scam artists and thieves - like any new technology - and wiping the slate clean would only give these bad-faith actors more leeway.

As a closing note, I find it kind of interesting to see how we've effectively skipped the realization of Cyberpunk as we define it, and gone straight into Post-Cyberpunk, with the radical transformations of yesterday rotting away mere months into their existence and leaving us with naught but ruins - or to paraphrase Shakespeare, an expanse full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

[lvlystars]

veni, vidi, cecidi (ad vos) — h.js

pairing. uni student!hong jisoo x fem!reader

genre. fluff :3

summary. lost in translation...i guess? (i'm so bad at writing summaries wtf)

warnings. none. just joshua being bad at latin? mentions of wanting to jump off a building but it's unserious. jeonghan's a bit of a lil shit. im nayeon (she needs a warning entirely bcus it's nayeon <3). second-hand embarrassment incoming ‼️‼️

a/n. i didn't edit this. at all. i rushed this so pls bear w me 🏃‍♀️💨

wc. 934

“y/n, i heard some guy from our year likes you.” nayeon teases, lightly pinching the girl’s arm as she hisses, rolling her own eyes at the bunny-toothed girl. y/n rubs her arm as she shoots nayeon an annoyed look, completely missing the way a certain boy was practically melting at the sight of her as she makes her way through the bustling cafeteria within the campus.

“dude, if you’re head over heels for her, then why don’t you go for her?” jeonghan snickers, catching the younger boy off-guard. joshua shakes his head profusely, attempting to hide his reddening cheeks by pulling his hoodie over his head and pulling at the strings, effectively engulfing his face within the soft material. jeonghan simply chuckles at his friend’s lovesick state. “don’t you take latin? why don’t you confess to her in latin? i’m sure she won’t get it, right?” joshua groans as he buries his face into his arms as he leans onto the cafeteria table.

“then she’ll be stuck on that note, wondering what it means, and basically that means you’ll be on her mind!”

“nuh uh.”

“yuh huh, she won’t easily forget you if you give her a little challenge, you know what i mean?” jeonghan nudges the boy, completely oblivious to joshua’s despair.

“what you guys talking about?” seungcheol, the oldest of the three, asks, sitting down and setting his tray on the table. “shua’s head over heels, and i’m trying to give advice, but this baby won’t fuss up the courage to do it!” seungcheol snickers as he eyes the latter, observing how he looks absolutely dead at the moment. “how come you easily flirt with 20 different girls in our biochemistry class, but you can’t even utter a single word to the one girl you like?” jeonghan huffs, leaning back as he crosses his arms in irritation.

joshua sits up, taking off the hood of his hoodie as he fixes his tousled hair, sighing as he stabs his fork into the salad he picked out, shoving the greens into his mouth before he chews, the crunching of the leaves drowning out the chatter of the many students sitting in the cafeteria. joshua thinks to himself, pondering over the idea of confessing to the love of his life in latin, despite the fact that she’s in his latin class.

“fine, i’ll do it.” joshua sighs, making the other two boys freeze as they slowly look at joshua.

“really?”

“you’re serious?”

“yes, i am. and i’m going to do it now. watch me.” joshua pulls out his phone, pulling up google translate before ripping out a page of his bullet journal and scribbling something on it. as a final gesture, he nods to himself, getting up and marching his way over to y/n’s table, where she was busy chattering along with her friends.

right before the boy could even utter y/n’s name, joshua trips over his own feet, falling right in front of her.

“oh my god!” y/n gasps, rushing over to the boy and helping him, completely unaware of the fact that his cheeks were flushed bright red of embarrassment. clearing his throat, he fixes his posture before turning to her.

“are you-”

“this is for you.” joshua shoves the note into her face, surprising the girl. she slowly reaches for the note, grasping it and giving the boy a questioning look before opening the note, smoothing it out before she reads the 5 words written down, make her crack a smile as she reads the same words over and over again. soon enough, she breaks out into laughter, making the boy shrink as he wonders what’s so funny about the note. is it too corny? did it not make sense? was he not her type? is this stupid? wh-

“i’m sorry, that probably came off as rude. it’s just-” y/n breaks out into a fit of laughter as she bends over, catching the eyes of her friends.

“wh-what’s wrong?” joshua asks, making her calm down before she talks again.

“you wrote veni, vidi, cecidi ad vos, right?” joshua nods his head slowly, making the girl giggle before continuing. “you wrote, and i quote word for word, ‘i came, i saw, i fell to you’, in the context that you like me?” y/n asks again, and joshua nods again, the confusion arising more within him.

“well, cecidi is fall, just…not the fall used in the context of feelings…but the fall used in the context of, well…actually falling.” y/n giggles, making the boy’s eyes widen as he realizes his mistake, making him whine as he shoves his face into his hands.

“i knew this was a bad idea,” he groans, refusing to look at y/n in the eyes in the moment.

“the reason why i was laughing was because, you did exactly that, joshua.” joshua perks up at his name, the realization clicking in that oh shit, i did do exactly that, then further realizes that oh shit, she knows my name.

“i, uh, wow i’m actually going to jump off a building right now.” joshua sighs, y/n giggling to herself as joshua just stares at her, admiring the fact that she is just so pretty up close. being able to see her smile lines, her grinning lips, the way her eyes light up, and the way she just looks so happy as she talks to him—it gives him intense butterflies. what catches him off-guard is what she says after.

“if you do, then who’ll take me on a date?”

tags 🏷️ —

@star1117-archives @kyeomyun @spicyseonghwas @jaehunnyy @leo-seonghwa @wqnwoos @amxlia-stars @seuonji @etherealyoungk

networks 🔗 —

@preciousillusions-net @cacaokpop-fics @caratsland @k-labels

SVT WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

ⓒ lvlystars

[thesimpsbasement]

Request for Mod Betty! Can I ask for headcanons about how would Edgeworth, Apollo, Phoenix, Godot, Simon, and Klavier react if they accidentally saw their shy crush drawing them please?

ℭ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔰𝔥𝔶 𝔠𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝓅.2

_______________________

Fandom: Ace Attorney 

Characters: Miles Edgeworth,Apollo Justice, Phoenix Wright, Godot, Simon Blackquill, Klavier Gavin

Author: Mod Betty 

Warnings: none

Reader is gender neutral 

A/N: I don't know German so I had to use Google translate on Klavier's part , apologies if I offend anyone (also translations :mein kleiner künstler= my little artist,mein mein=my my)

Words count: 1,517 words

________________________

𝕄𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝔼𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙

-He's the type to go on museums I feel like so he noticed your knowledge in art on how you analysed the different paintings and told him about what method was used to draw those images

- He respected your knowledge about art and often enjoys listening to you ramble about it especially how you're always s quiet not that he necessarily minded, he did enjoy your company 

-He's often busy with being the chief prosecutor so he didn't notice you sketching away in your sketchbook 

-The most likely scenario where he'd see the drawing of himself was when he was organising evidence for an upcoming trial when he noticed a sketchbook, he didn't remember having a sketchbook in his evidence but decided to check it to make sure and oh boy he's surprised to see his own face on the piece of paper

-His cheeks quickly turned pink as he stared at the drawing , he looked at the signature and recognised it as yours, so this was yours 

-He shut the book and put it on his desk to give it to you later 

-Yet his cheeks still had a pink tint to which his fellow detective noticed 

-"Uh Mr. Edgeworth are you feeling alright pal? Your face is sorta red" Gumshoe asks the prosecutor, worried about him working when he was sick " Nghh.. I'm fine Gumshoe.. let's get going " Edgeworth says with an annoyed look on his face.

𝔸𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖

-He saw you read his favourite mangas and you sheepishly admitted wanting to inspire your style off the manga art style 

-oh he's excited to see your works and might ask you to draw some of his favourite characters

-He's also on the more oblivious side , always keeping himself busy and never notices you drawing 

-His boss however does take note of this and teases Apollo saying "You seem to have a secret admirer Apollo" leaving the boy in thought about who this secret admirer was 

-One day Trucy dragged him into another magic show practice session, Trucy pulled out her classic " magic panties" as she calls them to perform one of her magic tricks.Reaching her hand in she pulled an open sketchbook with Apollo's face drawn on the page clear as day. Apollo's face immediately turned red just like his suit looking at the page, it was your art style no doubt about it, were you really drawing him this whole time and he didn't notice!?

-" Uh Polly? You OK? You're starting to look like an actual parrot " the young magician asked looking at him confused before turning to see what she lage the sketchbook was on and understood immediately what got the young lawyer so flustered. 

ℙ𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕩 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

-You 2 where in the same department in university before Phoenix decided to do law so he was aware of your drawing skills 

- Unlike him you actually managed to keep your art skills and practiced even after university 

- He didn't mind that you weren't the talkative type , he actually enjoyed the quiet times you 2 had together with the occasional pencil scratching on paper sounds 

- He was always curious on what you were drawing, he also noticed how you always looked up at him then right back to the sketchbook 

-He thought about you posing drawing him but quickly dismissed the thought 

- Surely you weren't drawing little old him out of all people right? 

-On day he was coming back into his office after a tough trial where you've been waiting for him 

- Somehow you didn't hear him come in the room so you just continued adding little details to the drawing of him 

-Phoenix walked up to you and peaked through your shoulder to see what you were doing and oh boy was he sur, I mean he was suspecting this but he's still surprised at the amount of detail,he leaned on the couch looking at you before saying " Looks like you're the same ____ from our uni days when it comes to art huh?" Which lead you to yelp in surprise and turn to his direction " H-how long have you been standing there!?" You ask him looking wide eyed with a blush on your face " eh long enough to see myself on that piece of paper " he replies with a smug grin 

- Later he would like for you to teach him some art tricks you've got up your sleeve, it felt nostalgic to him to be able to draw again with you by his side 

𝔾𝕠𝕕𝕠𝕥

-Probably walked in on you drawing and that's how he figured out about your passion for art

- He likes talking with you over different meanings in pictures over a cup of coffee( or drink of your choice) 

-He's another one who's interested to know about art and if you want to you could always ramble things to him and he'll always listen neve turning you down 

-You 2 were probably at a coffee shop of a friend of his and you went to get both of your orders when Godot noticed your sketchbook laying there and a page was opened 

-Curiously he took a peak to only be met with himself staring at him 

-when you come back with drinks in hand you noticed the open sketchbook 

Shoot you forgot to close it when leaving ! 

-You awkwardly sat down , unable to look Godot in the eyes( or well visor ig) 

-" Hah seems like you found yourself a muse?" He smirked looking you before taking a sip of his coffee " make sure you drink that before it gets cold, that's what ruins a drink you know " he says as you quickly grab the cup and chugged it down when it had cool down a bit 

- He may seem unaffected by this whole ordeal but deep inside he's a flustered panicking mess

 

𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕝

-He's observant enough to figure out your skill 

I mean not everyone has a sketchbook and pencil at their disposal all the time

-Honestly he probably knows that you're drawing him before you even realise it, but he decides to pretend he doesn't know 

-You left your sketch on your desk as you went home last night and rushed for work tomorrow that you haven't even noticed you forgot your sketchbook as Simon's place 

-Meanwhile Simon had a" day off " but you could hardly call it that considering he was at his desk, reading all sorts of paperwork 

-His pet Taka flew away from his usual spot on Simon's shoulder to move a bit from his sitting position 

-Taka managed to get into the living room to see his master's face on a piece of paper that was sitting on the coffee table 

-The bird eyed the paper curiously before taking it into its beak and flying back to his owner's office 

-Simon raised an eyebrow at what his pet was holding but as soon as he took it into his hands he realised what he was holding

-The drawing you were always working on and not to his surprise it was himself , though he has to admit it's impressive the level of detail you've put into it 

-When you eventually come to visit him because you remembered you forgot something, he turns to you with a smirk holding the paper with the drawing of himself " And how long were you planning on keeping this to yourself hm?" He teases as your cheeks turn bright red and try to stammer and excuse but to no avail 

𝕂𝕝𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝔾𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟

-He probably saw some of your works as you 2 talked about your passions, even if you did hesitate to show him your art you trusted him to not judge you 

-He was pleasantly surprised by your skill and often asked you for help on designing his new album cover 

- While practiced on his guitar , on the corner of his eyes he saw you looking at him then back at your sketchbook 

-He put his guitar back and walked beside you looking at you with an innocent " What do you have there mein kleiner künstler?"He asks as you keep the sketchbook close to your chest " Uhm nothing important " you mumbled looking away " No need to be shy now " he says as he leans in closer 

Knowing Klavier you thought that maybe you won't have to embarrass yourself by showing him what you've been sketching so with a deep breath you shoved the sketchbook into his face, nearly hitting him in the face but Klavier quickly recovers and looks at the page, amazed on how you managed you capture his perfect self on a piece of paper 

-"Mein mein, how impressive _____, I'm impressed " he compliments you before talking about how you could use your art or maybe even for his own career, but he will obviously pay you, he knows that art takes a lot of time and he knows he shouldn't just take that effort for free.

[voxmortuus]

Stalking Target

PAIRING: Stalker!Hannibal x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal

SONG CHOICE: Animals - Marooon 5

WORDS: 1.3k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: Anon Prompt Request: Could I have a Hannibal x reader where he stalks the reader as he finds them interesting, but during the day reader avoids him at all costs bc he makes them feel small. The reader sees him one night and pretends not to know, the next day was an off day and they decide to leave the house but when they come back in the dead of night, Hannibal is there. Whatever happens next is up to you 🤗 thank you very much if you write this!!!!!!

NOTE: I left the ending very open, though non-consensual is implied, it is up to the reader to decide what happens in the end. I tried to stick as close to the request as possible. I felt the reader should be female at this moment, it stuck out to me the most, I apologize if this isn't what you were having in mind, but it's what was flowing through me at that moment. Outfit for reader is linked. I hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warning(s): Stalking | Mild Language | Implied Non-Consensual Adult Situations | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this...

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist | Taglist | PART TWO

REQUESTS: OPEN

Watching, he's always watching. Day, night, he always knows where you are. He's always one to know where to look. Knowing your schedule, it was easy for him, maybe even too easy. You avoid anything during the day- you even got a new job working from home. It was becoming too much, the walls closing in on you.

Today had to be something different; you needed to venture out, to explore, to live. You needed something fun in your life, even for one moment. You wanted to remember what it was like out there; it was this need that you had to fill. Making plans, you were going to ignore him. You were going to pretend you didn't see him. Today was that day.

Waking up, you hop in the shower, follow your morning routine like you do every day. Shower, meds, and vitamins, style your hair, put on some makeup, get dressed. You opt for a cute black romper, a black hat with your favorite black purse with fringe, and black strappy sandals. You let out a heavy breath and look yourself over, nodding- you grab your keys lock your apartment, and head out for your day.

You know he's across the way, sitting reading the paper. A sigh escapes your lips, and you head down the sidewalk to the cafe. You decide you're going to treat yourself to your favorite iced beverage and a pastry of the day, a blueberry cream-filled croissant. Taking a seat by the window, you look down at your phone, looking outside, and notice he didn't follow you. A small sigh of relief fell from your lips.

Why was he so insistent on being around you? The way he made you feel was this tiny, vulnerable thing, and that wasn't what you wanted. You didn't even know how to express that, and the police were out of the question. Your hair on your neck would stand on end, would make your dreams weird, and any noise or knock on your door sent sheer panic through your veins. But today, you weren't going to let that bother you.

After you finished your croissant and decide to head to a few stores, the book store being your first stop, looking for anything interesting. The only thing interesting was the cashier who decided he wanted to flirt with you. You ended up buying something anyway, some Anne Rice book. Heading out with a new book and his number.

After your book shop adventure, you had decided you needed some new leggings. Your favorite store was just a little way down. Stepping in, you look around and smile, shooting a wave to the cashier, and start to browse. You let your day proceed without any worry.

Hannibal had been sitting outside, watching yet not. At this point, it was more of a routine for him. Reading his paper, he had turned the page, reading the obituaries. Chuckling a tiny bit, he looked down at the end of the page and back up to spot that you had left, and he watched you walk away.

Standing up, he folded his paper, sticking it under his arm, looking both ways before crossing the street. Looking up at your building, he makes his way inside and up to your apartment floor; looking at the door, he smirks as he reaches into his pocket and picks his way in.

Closing the door softly behind him, he locks it and finds himself in your kitchen. Taking it upon himself to do your dishes in the sink, a cup, and a small plate. Placing them on the drying rack, he drys his hands off on the hand towel on the stove and puts it back.

Looking around your apartment, he walks further in, observing the odds and ends, your writing on the open notebook by your computer, the photos on the wall. As he continues to walk through your home, he finds your bedroom. Looking over the bed, neatly made, your medications and vitamins sitting on the bedside table. Picking up a few bottles, he arches his brow and places them back down.

His fingertips graze the blanket on your bed as he makes his way to your closet. He stops and watches out the window for a moment. Watching the people outside as they argued, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. His right hand reached out and opened your closet door. Looking at the drab colors of clothing, he closed it.

Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom. Looking over the various odds and ends, your makeup, your face wash, your towels, how neat and tidy your bathroom was. He departed from the bathroom heading back to the living room. Hannibal sat in a corner near no windows and sat there, waiting for you to come home.

Looking at your phone, you decide it was time to head home. 11:06pm was what was read. You catch a cab, and the cab brings you home. Paying your fair and climb out of your car and make your way inside.

Unlocking your door, you walk in, close the door behind you. Deciding to go do your dishes after putting everything down, and notice they were already done. Maybe I already did them. You tell yourself you shrug it off and walk into your bedroom and strip down, throwing on a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and a loose oversized tank top.

Heading to your living room, you turn on a desk lamp and open your laptop and take a seat. Looking at the bright screen as it powers back on from sleeping, you let out a soft breath. Looking over the screen, you type in your passcode and rub your face leaning back.

You hear a clearing of a throat, and you gasp. Looking around spooked, you see this pair of eyes in the corner of the room; you rub your face again. You are hoping that you imagined things, but that wasn't the case. Hannibal was really here, really sitting in your living room waiting for you.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home?" You growl, standing up.

"Sit down, Y/N. Don't get too loud."

"No, you don't have the right to order me around. Get the fuck out!"

"Don't be hasty, Y/N, take a seat, talk to me." He pleads.

You shake your head and ball your hands into little fists of anger and clench your jaw. "I said, get out!" You yell.

"I told you not to get loud." He gently stated, standing up.

"I DON'T CARE! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE IN MY HOME! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!" You scream.

"And tell them what? You saw a strange man in your home? With what you take every day, they won't believe that. Especially if they find no one in your home. So think wisely, Y/N." You didn't like his tone, it was condescending, and it seemed snooty, and you wanted to smack the look right off his face.

"Fuck you, GET OUT!" You scream again.

Shaking his head, he looks at you, "I warned you. I just wanted to merely talk. You wouldn't even give me that. I just want your company." His tone was gentle, soft, and dark at the same time. It was like his eyes went black. He stepped closer to you, and you grew nervous.

Looking at him, watching as he approaches you, your nerves got the better of you. You went running towards your bedroom, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you close to him as he covered your mouth. You try to bite his hand, but he was quick to prepare for that.

You stomp on his foot, and his knee buckles a moment, but by the time you go to slam your door, he is right at your heels. His hand slammed against the door, pushing his way in, locking it behind him. He stands here, looking over you as you back yourself against the wall. He towers over you, looking deep into your eyes.

"I warned you, Y/N. You really would have wished you listened by the time I'm done with you." Hannibal tells you.

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

[hkblack]

Are there any specific questions you’d suggest beta readers ask writers before entering a new beta relationship… and/or that writers should ask betas? Of course, making sure everyone's on the same page about the form of beta read (e.g., SPAG vs. characterization check). And, when betaing for someone new, I also often ask if they’d like non-constructive reaction comments ("AAAAA THEY’RE TOO CUTE”) as well as actual suggestions. But I’m wondering what else I should consider asking! Thanks so much.

Yes, yes, and YES. I probably drive everyone nuts in the Discord Servers I am in because when I request a beta-reader, this is the info I try to give, and it's a lot. For All Requests Major Relationships Quick Summary What I need a Beta-Reader for For Completed Pieces / Single Section Requests Rating Word Count Archive Warnings/ Content Warnings / Relevant Tags Deadline For In Progress Pieces / Long Term Requests Expected Rating Current Word & Chapter Count AND Expected Chapter Count All Possible Archive Warnings/ Content Warnings / Relevant Tags Timeline / Deadline Expectations This is because I want folks to know exactly what they're signing up for when they say they'll beta-read for me. Now, I'm a little lazy, and should probably be better about asking these questions of other people when they request a reader, tbh, before jumping in and saying I'll do something. But I usually volunteer first and ask questions later. I should probably work on that. A big reason I don't is that my major squicks and triggers tend to be Archive Warning type things, and most people are really good about flagging those. The last time I didn't get a warning for some pretty serious Whump actually made me laugh because I fell in love with the story and threatened much anger if I didn't get to read the rest. (you know who you are and I am serious about that much anger) But let's walk through my normal process: 1. Someone tags the beta-readers group in some Server I'm in (currently this is the only way I take requests--unless I've worked with a writer before) 2. I volunteer, and tell the writer to DM me their story and the deets 3. Most writers will then offer a lot of info when they DM me, "Oh I just need a SPAG" or "I'm really worried about x y and z" 4. I double check to make sure however they've given me the file works (for Google Docs, for example, I make sure I actually have Commenting/Suggesting privileges and not just View Only access) 5. I confirm what the writer has told me they are looking for in my own words, and ask if there's anything I'm missing (this helps keep us on the same page) 6. I give them an expected timeline of when they should hear from me next. 7. I dive in. Here's some heavily edited and redacted examples of first convos I've had: Writer 1: I just need another set of eyes on my fic. The prompt I was going for was X, but I also tried to include a little of the Y prompt, and the Z prompt. My problem is that it's [under the word count] so I need to figure out what to add. I also need to make sure I'm being fair to [Character A], and not implying that they are at fault for this, but showing that they still hold guilt and complicated feelings about the whole thing. Me: Okay! So I'm looking for X, Y, and Z, places to expand, and not being a jerk to [Character A]. Got it! How fast of a turn-around are you looking for? -- Me: Thanks for the link! Looks like I've got the right permissions. You said you were looking for notes on clarity, continuity, and entertainment value, right? Anything in particular other than entertainment value you're worried about? Writer 2: Pacing! Does it drag? -- Me: Got the file! You asked for SPAG and Flow notes, and you're hoping to post on [date]. Anything else I need to be aware of? Anything you're worried about in this fic? Writer 3: Maybe details. It's a specific POV, so it may need fixing/adjusting to make it more clear. You can see how every time I asked for more, the writer remembered something else they were worried about for me to keep an eye on. I think this answers the heart of your question but there's something in this ask that I'm going to pull out and make a separate post out of because it's super important but this is already too lengthy. Thanks for the Ask! Keep 'em coming!

[leam1983]

Such Sights to Show You...

As a Canadian, and especially as a Québécois, my experience with the Haunted House tour would probably strike most Americans as being excessively tame. We're only just starting to see venues that sort of progress past the basic conceit of people looking unsettling while occasionally shrieking at you or going "Boo!", but the local legal framework makes anything extreme fairly difficult to imagine. I've seen some interesting twists on the formula, like a night marathon in an open field that's presented as your attempting to slink past and run away from a horde of zombies, or the now-defunct La Maison Hantée restaurant on De Bleury, in Montreal, which tended to veer towards the darker ends of Burlesque and Cabaret. Waiters could elicit vague jolts out of you, actors cloud slip under the tablecloth and make it very clear that they were touching your legs - but you explictly paid to be served a grotesque twist on middle-to-high-end dining. There were enough lulls and changes in the emotional registry to let you get your food and drink down, essentially.

Today, most high-end haunts are more a question of prop-work than any serious effort to be intense, and the more overt outlets like Malefycia - also in Montreal - are strictly regimented. You might be touched or prodded or even pushed, but all actors are informed of the participants' limitations. It's a bit more of an Escape Room setup, in a sense, than a torture gauntlet.

Having watched Monster Inside after catching a referral on here, I was reminded of a particular October night from a few years back...

Halloween's right around the corner, so you know the gist: You're feeling spooky, what starts as you OD'ing on Danny Elfman soundtracks and your good old shitty laserdisc transfers of seasonal soundbanks and hokey atmospheric music turns into your deciding that you're up for something juicy, especially something from the less sanitized ends of Hollywood horror. As much as I love my Freddy Kruegers and my Jason Vorheeses and my Pinheads, I've also just started to get into Damian Leone's output. So I watch Terrifier, the outlandish kill setups amuse me, Art the Clown steals the show - and I settle in for a chaser of The Halloween Tree or Hocus Pocus.

And then, looking around YouTube, I come across the bevy of promotional videos for American haunts.

I'm hooked. One of them really catches my eye, what with the showman's bravura that he exudes, the smarm that oozes out of every pore, the self-satisfaction at the sight of people who signed up to be dehumanized endure things I doubt many POWs even experience. My first thought is fairly expeditious, considering: Guy's gotta be some fuckin' sociopath.

That man is Russ McKamey, and his attraction is the elusive McKamey Manor. I slam the entirety of the Manor's YouTube content in one night. Red flags keep lighting up as I go along.

If you're reading this, you're probably aware of how safewords can be vital in kink communities. Consenting adults can consent to all sorts of things, but they also have the right to withdraw that consent by providing a clear and unmistakable signal that the party's over. As in, you're expected to respect them. You don't even need to be part of a kink community to understand that fact, much less a lawyer.

Well, I've seen dozens of instances where McKamey made it obvious that he didn't give a shit. The safeword is something he treats like a threshold for the upper limit, which means that you're going to be subjected to a fair bit of added pain. Legally, he's at fault - especially considering how some parts of the experience involve gagging the participants, which obviously renders safewords null and void.

Then, there's the forty-page waiver contestants sign, which apparently flies in the face of what you could consider plausible levels of the waiving of criminal liability - in a way that's sort of reminiscent of OceanGate's own waiver. If you need a reminder on them, Google for Stockton Rush...

As a haunt organizer, the last thing you need is for your guests to outright die on-premises. Yet here is Russ, absolving himself of all responsibility in the case of an event that he entirely would've triggered. Not only that, but the waiver seems to be treated like some integral part of the pre-show theatrics! There's no line of separation even as you're handed the thing, apparently!

Through it all, you're left thinking Hulu produced this thing for the shock factor - which is cripplingly obvious. Three former participants out of hundreds, now, with Facebook groups mentioned where other former attendees band together to commiserate over their lack of judgement, and that are also taken as targets by trollish supporters of the man.

You're left thinking "Who is this for, exactly?" The former US Army soldier with two tours under his belt and one tour in the Manor which was apparently worse than watching comrades-in-arms die under fire? The would-be Scream Queen who reached her upper limit? Or is it for the disaffected youth looking to experience thrills unrelated to parental abuse? Is it pointing a finger at the showman or indirectly goading the viewer into giving it a shot?

The one good shot is near the very end, where the documentary decides to counterpoint the Manor with an experience titled Miasma, run under much clearer directorial guidelines by a man called Justin, who displays a deliberately careful level of attention and who consistently checks for informed consent. One of the Manor's survivors breaks down in tears after officially dropping their role and speaking their safeword - leading to Justin carefully leading them out of the experience personally - and hugging them.

They're given time enough to decompress, and the lights soon come back on.

Seeking extreme experiences can be cathartic for some. The thing is catharsis requires a sense of release, which Russ McKamey never seems to grant. It's always bigger, louder, harder; with his visibly being convinced that he'll spot the right moment to stop. According to the interviewed contestants, release was never properly granted. No one's died yet, but this level of sensory and physical assault can't possibly leave good memories.

If you're in my shoes, you realize that there's a seam between Russ McKamey's project and the participants' experience of it. You'd think a better showman would've paid attention.