#and I thought I'd try out this starter for the story to see how it went. Danny gets rescued soon.

[anjanahalo]

And Now, A Ghost Story 1

He hurt. He was scared, he was lost, he felt guilty, and he hurt. He’d flown east according to the stars, and he didn’t stop until his entire body forced him down into an alleyway in a city near the sea. He’d have crossed it if he had the strength. What better way to get even further from his problems? However, even as he landed, he could feel himself fighting the transformation, fighting his body wanting to shift from half dead to half alive. He landed. The alley lit with blinding white for a moment. He collapsed to his hands and knees. The night was cold. He only wore what he had when he’d been captured. When the net tightened around him. When he begged for his parents to save him from the GIW. When… He curled up instead of thinking about it. He was away from Amity Park. He was away from his friends and sister. They were safe. They would always be safer away from him. The ghost boy, the creepy child. Half dead, unnatural, monster, the words echoed in his head. He sniffled and curled tighter. He felt the burns and bruises, and he told himself he should care about his injuries. He couldn’t, though. Not when he thought of Sam and Tucker and Jazz, all injured and hurt just to help him. Just to help a creature that shouldn’t even exist. He shuffled to hide between a wall and a pile of trash bags. They smelt terrible. Danny felt himself not caring still. He stayed curled, shutting his eyes tight, and tried to find a way to sleep. He didn’t know what to do. He was only eight. He thought telling the truth would fix everything, and he was wrong. He thought doing the right thing would protect everyone. He was wrong. Now he just wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to think about what happened. He didn’t want to remember why he laid here in an alley in a strange, dark city. He wanted nothing more than to not exist. Maybe, perhaps, to never be born. A creepy little boy with creepy little powers. No one like that deserves help. Next

[thatsveryvortex]

Writing Tools for Planning Your Story

I've tried tons of writing apps and sites, so you don't have to. Here's a list of free sites to plot out your novel, with my review and some images of how I use it.

Milanote

Milanote is like having a giant pinboard with folders. You can upload anything onto it [yes even your main doc] and then draw over it or connect things with lines and arrows

Milanote lets you add up to a hundred things for free, not including drawing. This is one of the downsides of the site as I've found myself reaching that limit recently.

For me, the best part is being able to draw over stuff, and the color swatches.

Milanote is a lot less structured than other sites I've used, and personally, I don't think their templates are worth using.

8/10 overall, Milanote is what I mainly use. Here are some pics of how I use it:

Miro

Miro is a flowchart website mainly used for corporate jobs, however, it can be a great plotting tool for that reason

Miro has a lot of great starter templates if you are looking for a more structured freeform experience. It also comes with a blank page as well.

Unfortunately, I'd argue that it's a bit of a hard tool for beginners to use without a template, I've learned copy-paste is my best friend with Miro the hard way.

It's much better than most platforms at making timelines though.

It has a limit of three boards which is a bit disappointing but overall, I think it's worth the try.

5/10 Miro is very middle of the road for me due to the limited ability to customize things and the free limit. Here are some pics:

[I wrote that part weeks ago, I am now fully using Miro and believe it's the best for making timelines and charts, I just wish it let me make more boards 8/10]

Hiveword

This might be someone's jam, I can't really say it's mine though.

First off, the unpaid version is really just a few boxes saying "Write a summary here." which makes it just not worth it in my opinion

There really isn't any way to customise things which is my favorite part of most of these softwares

I've barely used this, so maybe there's something I'm missing but

1/10, Just use Google Docs at this point, here's a couple pics

World Anvil

People like this software, it's mainly used for tabletop, which is just a different way of writing adventure, and I've seen it recommended by authors.

Unfortunately, I'm going to disagree with a lot of people and say it's hard to use and isn't even really good at plotting.

I may be biased on this one as every time I've tried to use it in the past I've struggled. However, it seems like another just write it in a document and create a folder.

I'd say it's closer to an organizing tool, but even then just use something else.

3/10, I have nothing to say about it but maybe you'll enjoy it, all here are two photos

Campfire

This is the one I think I've heard the most about, but have never actually tried.

right off the bat, I'm going to say this is 100% worth it, you'll see at the end with the photos but this is like if Miro and World Anvil had an organization baby.

It's extremely easy to understand, and it makes timelines, it's more for writing your whole book but idk about that yet.

7/10, its themes are really pretty but it limits how much you can do to 20 I believe. Here are the photos

That's all for now, honestly, I think you should use Miro if you are looking to plot things out, and Milanote if you want to collect and organize your thoughts for writing, as that's what I do. Obviously what I like won't be for everyone, but hopefully, this helped you see some options

[justanotherrpmeme]

Locked in a Room starters

"Well, this is just great. Locked in a room with you." "Don't look at me like that. I didn't plan this." "Could you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy." "I can't believe I'm stuck here with you of all people." "I never thought I'd say this, but I'd rather be anywhere else right now." "Do you have any idea how long we're going to be stuck here?" "Can we at least try to make the best of this situation?" "I suppose we could play a game to pass the time." "I'm hungry. Did anyone remember to bring snacks?" "How did we even end up in this mess?" "I'm starting to feel a bit claustrophobic." "Could you try to keep calm? Panicking won't help." "I think I saw something move over there. Do you hear that?" "I never realized how small this room actually is." "Let's just hope someone realizes we're missing soon." "I'm sorry for all the things I said before. Can we start over?" "It's funny how being trapped together makes you see things differently." "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually glad you're here with me." "We should probably figure out a plan for when someone finally lets us out." "Well, at least we'll have a good story to tell after this."

[PACING] The sender walks back and forth across the room, unable to sit still. [SIGHING] The sender lets out an audible sigh, expressing their frustration. [WINDOW] The sender attempts to open a window, hoping for some fresh air. [DOOR] The sender inspects the door, searching for any signs of escape.

[uhroras]

—  sentence starters  :  labyrinth,  1986.   content warnings : violence & death mention

"oh it's not fair!”

“well don't stand there in the rain, come on.”

“she treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what i say.”

"there's nothing to talk about."

"someone save me, someone take me away from this awful place!"

"say your right words."

"goblin king, goblin king, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!!"

"what is all that rubbish, it doesn't even start with 'i wish' "

"i wish i did know what to say to make the goblins take you away"

"i wish the goblins would come and take you away. right now."

"what's said is said."

"please bring him back, please."

"it's a crystal, nothing more. but if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams."

"it isn't that i don't appreciate what you're trying to do for me but..."

"don't defy me."

"it's further than you think, time is short."

"excuse me, but i have to get through this labyrinth, can you help me?"

"well, what did you expect fairies to do?"

"do you know where the door to the labyrinth is?"

"how do i get into the labyrinth?"

"if that's all the help your gonna be, you can just leave."

"you know your problem? you take too many things for granted. take this labyrinth, even if you get to the center, you'll never get out again."

"you remind me of the babe."

"what kind of magic spell to use?"

"what a horrible place this is."

"she should not have gotten as far as the oubliette."

"she'll have to start all over again."

"i came to give you a hand."

"this is an oubliette, the labyrinth's full of them."

"oh don't sound so smart."

"if i thought for one second that you're betraying me, i'd be forced to suspend you head first in the bog of eternal stentch."

"how are you enjoying my labyrinth?"

"how about upping the stakes, hmm?"

"you say that so often, i wonder what your basis for comparison is?"

"how can i trust you?"

"well, let me put it this way, what choice have you got?"

"i said i didn't promise nothing, i said i would take you as far as i could go."

"please, can you tell......that is, i have to get to the castle at the center of the labyrinth, do you know the way?"

"the way forward, is sometimes the way back."

"you may not be much of a friend, but you're the only friend i got in this place."

"well i'm not afraid, things aren't always what they seem in this place."

"is that anyway to treat someone who is trying to help you?"

"which should we choose out of these two ugly characters?"

"i see...for one moment i thought you were running to help her, but, uh, no, not after my warnings, that would be stupid."

"i just noticed your lovely jewels are missing."

"oh, what did you have to go and do a thing like that for?"

"so much trouble over such a little thing."

"there's such a sad love, deep in your eyes."

"i'll place the sky within your eyes."

"as the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you. every thrill is gone, wasn't too much fun at all."

"i'll be there for you - as the world falls down."

"we're choosing the path between the stars."

"i'll leave my love between the stars."

"you can't look where you're going if you don't know where you're going."

"i shall fight you all to the death."

"i don't see why we have to be so quiet....it's only a goblin city."

"im not asking to be to forgiven, i ain't ashamed of nothing i did."

"they got through the gates, and they're on their way to the castle."

"i've had enough, i'm going to bed."

"how you turn my world you precious thing."

"you starve and near exhaust me."

"everything i've done, i've done for you."

"i move the stars for no one."

"your eyes can be so cruel."

"i have been generous up until now, but i can be cruel."

"let me rule you, and you can have everything you want."

"just fear me, love me, do as i say and i will be your slave."

"my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great. you have no power over me."

[microwavedautism]

I don't know if there's a Warframe community on here, but I started playing 3 days ago, and I'm having a lot of fun!!

↓ Rambling Below ↓

I really love how the movement feels, and the gun sounds are very pleasing for some reason.

I only have Volt at the moment, but the Austim has latched onto him and I fear I will not be able to play another frame, his first ability is just so useful AND satisfying 😭

I LOVE the accessibility options this game has, being able to have a permanent highlight on the enemies helps SO much it's actually insane. I can finally play a shooter game without losing track of the enemies, or just not being able to see them, it's great! I do wish there was an option to toggle sneak on and off instead of holding the button down, but it's very rare that I actually use stealth so It's okay.

So far I have only bought the starter weapon pack, and the Rajhin skin pack, but both have been amazing, my Volt looks awesome and he has a cool gun (I spent my platinum on an awesome sword too!!), but I'm tempted to buy the Ember Heirloom pack, for the skin and the platinum, even though I don't have Ember yet. Maybe I'll buy her with the platinum from the pack? Or maybe the 'female heroes' pack I saw. It was named something similar to that anyway.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing, there are a lot of mechanics to learn and I'm trying to avoid spoilers, I've been told the story is really good after all, and I don't want to risk anything by looking at tutorials and such.

I did have a look at all the Warframes though, and I want to build Inaros, Banshee and Hildreyn, they seem interesting! A few of them have abilities that seem just a bit too complicated for me unfortunately. Which is a large part of why I enjoy Volt so much, he's very simple.

I've gotten.. a little bit through the story, I'm like, sworn to the Red Veil or something, and I am at Mastery 3. So, not too far but not just starting out either! I just reached, I think it's called, Deimos. It's the cool red firey planet!

That's all I can think of to say right now, just thought I'd get my thoughts out, if you've read this far I hope you have a nice day !!! :]

[sporadicmemeage]

THE LAST FIVE YEARS, musical by jason robert brown - sentence starters

↳ feel free to change pronouns, etc.

"[Name]'s decided it's time to move on."

"[Name]'s convinced the problems are mine."

"[Name] is probably feeling just fine, but I'm still hurting."

"What about lies, [Name]? What about things that you swore to be true?"

"Bring back the lies, hang them back on the wall. Maybe I'd see how you could be so certain that we had no chance at all."

"Maybe there's somewhere a lesson to learn, but that wouldn't change the fact. That wouldn't speed the time."

"I'm breaking my mother's heart the longer I stand looking at you."

"If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter. If you had a shaved head, that would be cool."

"I've been waiting for someone like you."

"The minute I first met you I could barely catch my breath."

"You are the story I should write."

"If you like to drink blood, I think it's cute."

"I think that I could be in love with someone like you."

"See? We're laughing. I think we're gonna be okay."

"I mean, we'll have to try a little harder and bend things to and fro to make this love as special as it was five years ago."

"I think we both can see what could be better. I'll own when I was wrong."

"I didn't know you had to go so soon. I thought we had a little time."

"You know what makes me crazy? I'm sorry, can I say this? You know what makes me nuts?"

"We could be together, here together, sharing our night and spending our time, and you are gonna choose someone else to be with."

"You could be here with me or be there with them - as usual guess which you pick?"

"You do not have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know."

"The point is, [Name], that you can't spend a single day that's not about you, and you, and nothing but you."

"I swear to god I'll never understand how you can stand there straight and tall and see I'm crying and not do anything at all."

"I've got a singular impression things are moving too fast."

"Some people can't get success with their art. Some people never feel love in their heart. Some people can't tell the two things apart."

"I met my personal Aphrodite."

"But I'm so happy I can't get worried."

"His eyes light up, and how can I complain?"

"Yes he's insane, but look what he can do."

"I tend to follow in his stride instead of side by side."

"I said I'd stick it out and follow through."

"He smiles, and nothing else makes sense."

"But shouldn't I want the world to see the brilliant girl who inspired me?"

"Don't you think now's a good time to be the ambitious freak you are?"

"Say goodbye to wiping ashtrays at the bar! Say hello to [Name], big time star!"

"Have I mentioned today how lucky I am to be in love with you?"

"He wants me, he wants me - but he ain't gonna get me."

"Son of a bitch, I guess I'm doing something right. I finally got something right."

"The torture is just exquisite while I'm waiting for you to visit."

"Will you share your life with me for the next ten minutes?"

"If we make it till then - can I ask you again?"

"Just holding you might compel me to ask you for more."

"There are so many lives I want to share with you. I will never be complete until I do."

"I am not always on time, please don't expect that from me."

"If you can just wait, I'll get there eventually."

"Anything other than exactly on time I can do."

"I don't know why people run. I don't know why things fall through."

"I don't know how anybody survives in this life without someone like you."

"I want to be your wife."

"I want to bear your child."

"I want to die knowing that I had a long full life in your arms."

"That, I can do. Forever, with you."

"Will you share your life with me for the next ten lifetimes? For a million summers, till the world explodes."

"It'd be me and [Name], and nothing else would matter."

"But it's fine, it's fine, it's fine. I mean, I'm happy."

"And I'm showing her my left hand, I'm gesticulating with my left hand."

"You know I love her."

"I'll be there soon, [Name], I swear."

"I am a good person. I am an attractive person. I am a talented person."

"Don't stare at my resume - I made up half of my resume - look at me, stop looking at that, look at me."

"I hate these fucking shoes."

"I will not be the girl stuck at home in the 'burbs with the baby, the dog, and the garden of herbs."

"I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels to be trotting along at the genius's heels."

"I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by."

"Can we please, for a minute, stop blaming, and say what you feel?"

"Did you think this would all be much easier than it's turned out to be?"

"If I didn't believe in you, we wouldn't be having this fight."

"It never took much convincing to make me believe in you."

"Don't we get to be happy, [Name]?"

"I will not fail so you can be comfortable, [Name], I will not lose because you can't win."

"I thought about what I wanted. It wasn't like that at all."

"He blew me off with a heartfelt letter. I thought, I can do better than that."

"You don't need to get a haircut, you don't need to change your shoes. You don't have to like Duran Duran, just love me."

"You don't have to change a thing, just stay with me."

"I want you, and you, and nothing but you. No substitution will do."

"I don't need any lifetime commitments, I don't need to get hitched tonight."

"I don't want you to put up all your walls and defenses."

"It feels like my life led right to your side and will keep me there from now on."

"I wrote a story and we changed the ending."

"Don't kiss me goodbye again."

"Goodbye until the next time you call. I will be waiting for you."

"Goodbye until tomorrow. Goodbye till I recall how to breathe."

"I have been waiting for you."

"I open myself one stitch at a time."

"Finally he can cut through these strings and open my wings."

"Goodbye until the rest of my life."

"I'm not the only one who's hurting here."

"I could never rescue you."

"All I could do was love you hard and let you go."

"We could fight, or we could wait, or...I could go."

"I didn't see a way we both could win."

[booksandchainmail]

Hugo Best Novel Finalists 2024

I've read all 6, so here's my impressions and loose ranking. The numerical ranking is only approximate for now, I'm going to pin it down once we get closer to voting closing. I could see the top two books switching places, or any rotation within books three, four, and five.

The Saint of Bright Doors, by Vajra Chandrasekera This was one of my top books of last year and one of my own nominations. It's a very strange book, twisty and creative, and left me with a lot of thoughts, particularly about how it handles government. I appreciated the mishmash of worldbuilding, all sorts of things that felt incongruous next to each other but somehow fit together. It also felt more literary than most sff novels? I am not normally deeply noticing of language, but I kept coming back to individual turns of phrase here. All books should have a 50-page chapter in the middle where the protagonist wanders through a neverending surrealist prison land.

Some Desperate Glory, by Emily Tesh Another of my nominations, this is a more straightforward exploration of, essentially, the deradicalization of someone raised in an authoritarian military camp. I respect how this book lets Kyr be awful, be completely convinced she is correct, and be defensive and lash out when confronted with her home's issues. I think the ending stumbles a bit, but really I mostly wanted this book to be much, much longer and have Kyr's character arc spread out more. Also, the choice of title and epigraph is excellent.

Translation State, by Ann Leckie Not much to say here, it's a new book in the Imperial Radch universe, I read it when I came out so don't remember detail. I liked the different intersecting plotlines, and particularly the Presger merge-and-devour adolescent instinct

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, by Shannon Chakraborty This one I hadn't read before but enjoyed. I don't know how deep I'd say it is, but it's fun, a good classic adventure story with a putting-the-crew-back-together plot common to heist narratives. It benefits a lot from its setting: my main takeaway was that the Indian Ocean in medieval times is a criminally underused setting for any kind of nautical/swashbuckling/adventure story.

Witch King, by Martha Wells I read this one when it came out, and remember liking it a lot. The two intertwined narratives, set centuries apart, worked well for me to let the backstory unfold to inform the main plot as it progressed. I think I preferred the backstory narrative? But that might be due to also having the present narrative, since my favorite part was seeing how the echoes of relationships are still going on centuries after we get to see them form

Starter Villain, by John Scalzi I did not like this. I had some criticism last year for Scalzi's Kaiju Preservation Society, on the grounds that it was fun but not substantive enough for an award. But at least with that one I enjoyed reading it! My main thought while reading Starter Villain was "Well, at least it's short." I think my main problem with this is tonal: it doesn't commit enough to the over-the-top goofiness of "guy inherits his uncle's supervillain empire" and keeps trying to ground it in what an actual secretive genius billionaire pulling strings behind the scenes for his own nefarious purposes might look like, but then any attempts to actually be serious with the grounded stakes and world established kept running into the fact that it also featured sentient cats and talking dolphins! Also, I couldn't stop noticing that the protagonist talks the same way as the major supporting characters, which is the same way the protagonist talked in KPS last year

[funky-fox-fics]

Prompt: betrayal

please note that this story takes place in my pc/bs au, so you might not understand this if you haven't read that yet!

"You know," Skizz is saying, very quietly, as though his very voice might shake the leaves off the trembling autumn-stricken trees outside. "It did feel a little like a betrayal."

"It wasn't my fault," Impulse says, also very quiet, as though he could scare the birds from the boughs with a few hushed sentences. "It wasn't anyone's fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was Tango's fault for not telling me about it, but he said he didn't--he didn't think it would be an issue, he thought I'd love it--said he thought I knew about it, knew they were eyeing me up--and he didn't know we were binaries, so it wasn't his fault, not really."

"It was a little his fault," Skizz says, and even through the link Impulse can't make out what he feels.

"Okay, yeah, it was a little his fault. A betrayal, too. But he--he's better now. Forgiven?" Impulse nudges at Skizz's mind, and warm memories with Tango bubble up from beneath the placid surface, disturbing the shuddering calm.

"I don't know," Skizz says. He was alone on that private server for so long. It still aches, sometimes. A phantom wound. Impulse is here, but sometimes he's caught off guard and Impulse isn't there and he reaches out for an answer and yes, he's caught, but there's still that fall, there's still that breathless fall before he remembers.

The room is cold. Skizz's wings are wrapped tightly around himself to keep the warmth in. Impulse leans against Skizz's wings, leans against Skizz. Outside the wind blows heavy and hard, rattling the branches of Pearl's trees and spinning the cog on Tango's starter house. In fits and tantrums it blows, and then dies down as suddenly as it had started.

This isn't something you can fix, Skizz whispers in the soundless space of their minds. I've tried to fix it for so long. I think it's just a part of me now. I mean--it was a little bit of a betrayal, don't you think, not--I mean, I know why, but it still feels like it, Skizz conveys, guilt-grief lacing each word with a rough aftertaste.

"Maybe it was a betrayal," Impulse says, still quiet. "You know I didn't mean it to be."

"I know you've apologized for it for so long," Skizz says, and his mind echoes, This isn't something you can fix. You can't--you can apologize all you want, and I know you mean it, and--it's not that I don't--didn't want an apology, but. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know if I can.

The room is cold. Impulse takes Skizz's hand. They're used to this now, and he doesn't feel like a traitor whenever they're in different places, but still. He'd tried to promise he'd be better after the fiasco that was Third Life, and then he'd jumped straight back into Hermitcraft with barely a break. Promised he'd be better after the fiasco that was Season Eight, and then went off to stay in Season Nine for two years.

"Do you forgive me?" Impulse asks Skizz, quiet in the cold.

Skizz stares at the weather outside where they sit. "I mean," he says with a sort of caustic humor, "I don't really have a choice, seeing as you're my binary." Then, curiously: What would happen if--say--a binary killed another person, like, permanently, and then their binary didn't--didn't agree with that? Do you think they'd try to be alone? Would they get themselves caught so they could be cleaved, and then just stay together like that afterward--or would they try to go completely no contact?

I wouldn't be able to do that, Impulse conveys. It would've felt like walking around with a gunshot in my head, or something. I mean, it kinda happened during Double Life, when you weren't there--you know how Grian usually just lowers the sensitivity of the bond, but that managed to cut you out completely somehow--but I still kinda had Bdubs. Even if he never telepathized back, he was still... he was still there. In a way.

I think I'd be able to do it, Skizz conveys.

For a moment they lapse into silence, and then Impulse says, "But if I wasn't your binary? Would you still..."

Skizz purses his lips. "It's been long enough," he says. "I think I would. I think I do. And you don't--you don't need to apologize, you've done enough of that already. It would just be kinda awkward, you know?"

Impulse chuckles. The room is cold still, but the wind's died down, at least. Sure, the sky's still gray, but it's not howling anymore.

Thank you, Impulse says, and Skizz smiles.

[ginsengkitten]

Part 2: Othello

The one class you were always prepared for was English. Especially when it was Shakespeare semester. This semester it was Othello. The classic story of the marriage between Othello, a Venetian army general, and Desdemona, his wife, and their ultimate descent into madness.

The chaos and drama of Shakespeare always felt like a slice of fun within your mundane academically centered life. A vacation into madness.

You doodled flowers along your notebook as the teacher read aloud some excerpts.

"Exactly how old is Othello?" A student asked. The question brought you out of your doodled daze. The English teacher, Mrs. Green, took a moment to recall. She furrowed her brow in thought.

"You know, I don't believe it's ever strictly stated in the text itself, but If I recall correctly, most scholars estimate Othello was around his 40's, being that he was a seasoned general by then. Typical of the Venetian militia status I suppose."

"Well then how old is Desdemona?" They pegged further curiously.

"Desdemona is somewhere in her early 20's. It is definitely a controversial gap!" She added.

The class gasped dramatically. "Ew so he was like- a total grandpa!" One girl proclaimed.

You hesitated to agree.

You don't think being in your 40s meant you were expired. That's not a fair assessment.

"I'd hate to be 'ew'ed when I'm in my 40s" you thought to yourself. "Time moves faster than we think. One day we will all succumb to age, but our hearts still matter." You disposed inside.

Your train of thought railwayed itself from that thought, to old people, and then, to Mr. Hudson. The quick jump shocked even you. 'Ugh, why did I think about him automatically?'

Oh shit, class is tomorrow and I still need to get a guitar, you panicked inside. You hadn't even dared ask your parents for money for that. You didn't want them knowing you'd put yourself in the position of a last minute Hail Mary for graduation by taking guitar. They would see any value in it anyways. You found yourself suddenly trying to defend guitar against your parents judgement—in your own head of course. Agh.

You shook the thought and returned to your doodling.

—

"Staying after school today to help tutor underclassmen. Will take 6:30 bus home."

Your phone buzzed moments later

"Ok. 👍🏻" - mom

Simply put. Your parents only cared about education. Had they known you were taking the bus into town to the guitar store, they would be all over your case.

The bus whirled off in a plume of smoke, leaving you at the corner of 6th & 7th in town. The guitar store just down the street. You had some allowance and leftovers from your summer job. But you'd already blown most of it on textbooks and your phone bill. But maybe , by luck, you'd find a clearance guitar.

You entered the store as the door chimed. An instant feast for the eyes as you lay eyes on a grand wall stocked full of guitars. Red ones, blue ones, gold ones, glitter ones. You'd no idea how versatile they came.

You also had no idea how expensive they were... Each price tag, dug you deeper into a grave of anxiety that you couldn't get out of. A single starter guitar starting at the $100's. You couldn't just drop that kind of money on one guitar! You checked your phone. It was already late. And this was the only option in town.

You sighed. You would have to show up empty handed tomorrow after all. The humiliation would be palpable.

——

You held your breath. Bracing yourself for embarrassment as you pushed the door into class. Guitar II with no guitar. Hah....

You tried to scurry into your chair and hoped to stay out of Mr. Hudson's eye. Unlikely, but worth a shot.

The class settled in and he took the front of the class in his same cool demeanor, as if this was all too easy for him, a side hobby. And yet, seemed so focused on it.

But when his eyes met you, he didn't mention it. No scathing, no singling you out. Nothing. Nothing but a hushed glance. Strangely enough, his silence made you even more nervous. How could you win him back on your side? How could you prove to him you were going to take this class seriously? Your overachieving mind worked on hyperdrive to find a solution. I know, you thought. I'll write a thesis on guitar theory. You'd spent the last two days googling papers and other texts on the history of guitar, trying to catch up to the classes level. It wasn't much, but maybe it could be enough to convince him. You quickly got to writing, and spent the next hour of class, writing furiously in your notebook, under the guise of taking notes. You had an hour to wow him.

Surely enough, the bell rang and your heart sank. Time to pay the piper. Time to admit you had no guitar for this class and essentially no means of succeeding it.

You took the steadfast approach, get to him before he gets to you, if he sees the essay it might buy his acceptance before he has time to ridicule you. You shot up and ran to his desk. The words spilling out of you like word vomit.

"Hi Mr. Hudson, look I know I don't have a guitar, actually technically I could get a guitar but then I need to still pay my phone bill so I went to the store to look and couldn't find one but that's besides the point the point is I've already caught up to speed with the class curriculum and I can prove it in this brief essay I wrote." You frantically said. He didn't say a word. His face almost stunned.

"Here. It's all there." You offered the essay to him desperately. He took the paper from your grasp and skimmed over it.

Without saying a word, he stood up from his desk. Seemingly packing his things, he went into the closet to retrieve his things. You stood there, a knot in your stomach. He didn't like it, you thought. You heart sank.

Suddenly, he appeared again, a guitar in his hand. He handed it to you. You hesitated, confused.

"I don't understand—" you started.

"This is my old guitar, you can have it." He said, staring at you softly. You stood there petrified to confused to stunned.

"Mr. Hudson I can't-"

"Please, take it Y/N. I want you to have it. You need a guitar for this class right?" He added.

You took the guitar, bewildered by this gesture.

"I don't know what to say!" You muttered.

"Here, try it on." He said, he lifted it over your head and rest the guitar strap on your shoulder. His tall body close to yours for a moment, lightly grazing you. Your cheeks were flushed.

He stepped back to look at his job well done. He smiled. "See you look like a natural already." He said jovially.

You held the guitar in your hands. The instrument felt so natural to you. Like a missing body part now reattached to you.

He saw the stars in your eyes and that alone told him he had made the right choice.

You snapped out of it, gripping the guitar neck slightly. "But what did you think of my essay? Was it good enough? Did you like it?" You asked eagerly. The essay still begging for academic validation.

He let out a slight chuckle as he took a seat back at his desk.

"Honestly, Y/N, I admit Im impressed. It felt like I wrote it myself." He praised.

"Really?" You beamed. You took a seat at his desk too, the praise almost taking your legs out from under you.

"But as good as the theory and writing of it is, it's the actual playing I want you to focus on now okay?" He said firmly.

You nodded vehemently. "Right. You're right. To be honest, I've never even held a guitar until now. It's halfway through the year already, how am I going to get good enough to pass?" You wallowed.

A thought crossing your mind and slipping out faster than you could assess. "Would you tutor me?" You bit your lip. "I mean. If you have time." You added for potential damage control. But who better to help you catch up than the teacher himself?

"I want to get as good as you." You said.

He chuckled slightly at first, but then stopped in an 'oh you're not joking?' Manner.

Again, he took the liberty of staring at you longer than necessary. What was he debating up there right now? His furrowed stern expression as he studied you. You bit your lip nervously.

"I suppose we can work something out. Here, try and practice something out of this and, during lunch tomorrow you can come by and we'll review." He suggested.

You lit up. "Yes perfect! Thank you so much Mr. Hudson!" You couldn't help but jitter up and down excitedly. Dorkily. He smiled warmly at the sight.

He cleared his throat. "Well then, I'll be seeing you, you better catch your next class." He said. You collected yourself. "Right. Okay. See you then!"

[currentdog9303]

captain america brave new world review, i guess

let me start this by saying i didn't really know what to expect going into it, my expectations weren't in the gutter but they weren't high either, i was just praying it wouldn't be bad so i guess i didn't 100% disappoint myself, i wasn't that impressed by the trailers (although i was still very curious to see how it would turn out), and the reviews once they started coming out did not help my expectations whatsoever, nonetheless, despite everything, i ended up seeing it today.

it's mid.

that's probably the best way to describe CA:BNW, it's just simply...mid. there's a few good moments and some that aren't.

i'm gonna try to keep it spoiler-free but let's go

i feel like the villain could've been really interesting and i'll admit for a MOMENT i thought so until we finally get HOW he's getting people to do the shit they're doing in the movie, which by then i just kinda stopped caring, because how he's doing it came off to me as incredibly basic, and the way he's defeated in the end (not even a spoiler because, it's an mcu movie the formula is pretty obvious), just adds fuel to the fire.

and the pacing is like..WAY too fast. wtf were they even trying to go for with this? there's one thing going on and all of a sudden this causes a lot MORE things to go on, resulting in a ton of b-plots, you're jumping from place to place over and over, and it kinda left the main story unfulfilling for me, bc it's trying to explain too many things in the span of 2 hours.

there are also characters put into the film..and then there's not much really..DONE with them to make them even worth being there in the first place. for example, giancarlo esposito plays sidewinder in this movie, and tbh i don't think there was much..done with him. he feels insanely underused in my eyes.

is there good stuff about this movie?

yeah, i'd say so. for starters, i'd say anthony mackie as sam wilson/captain america is done really well. i think he makes an extremely worthy successor to steve!

i think the cinematography is neat (except for one shot where the lighting was just extremely bright that shit was insanely distracting, yeah i get that shot was inside a plane but still)

one thing i'll say i just didn't like nor dislike is the action scenes. just didn't seem that special to me

overall?

CA:BNW is mid. there's good stuff about it, bad stuff, and stuff i just didn't care about.

(this review definitely isn't very good but oh well LMAO)

[666writingcafe]

An Unexpected Trip to the Past

Satan

I have no idea what's going on. One second, we were inside the House of Lamentation, and the next we're in some brightly lit forest. It's possible that the door I opened led us outside, but something about this forest seems too...bright. Like, brighter than anything in the human world.

I almost dismiss the idea as me simply overthinking everything when Simeon frowns and remarks that he recognizes where we are.

And then Beel starts walking towards us.

Only, it's not the Beel I know. For starters, this version of him has a goddamn halo circling the top of his head.

"Oh, not this again," MC groans, which raises even more questions. What do they mean by again? I mean, there's no possible way they've been here before, right? They weren't even alive when Beel and the others were angels.

"What are you doing here?" Beel the angel asks, looking rather stern. I suppose his reaction makes sense. We are intruders, after all.

"It's okay, Beelzebub," Simeon replies softly with a smile. "Don't worry. It's me." That seems to relieve Beel a little.

"Simeon, who are these two? Are they with you?" Simeon nods his head.

"They're acquaintances of mine, you see. They're angels, actually. Both of them." What in the world is he thinking?! MC might be able to get away with it, but there is no way in hell I'd make a convincing angel. I open my mouth to protest, but MC squeezes my hand and quietly instructs me to play along.

"We're talking about this later," I whisper. Simeon introduces us to angel Beel, and I thank my lucky stars that he remembered my human world name. I don't even want to imagine the alias he would have come up with if he didn't. It'd probably be something stupid, like Sully.

"So, Beelzebub, what's Lucifer up to?" Simeon asks.

"He's at the Celestial Palace in a meeting with Michael and all the other higher-ups." Beel pauses, narrowing his eyes at Simeon. "Shouldn't you be there, too? I thought all of the seraphim had to attend."

Simeon struggles to come up with a good answer to that question, making me anxious. He's never done well under pressure.

"He was busy rescuing us," MC pipes up.

"Rescuing you?" Beel repeats.

"Daniel and I fell into a pit someone dug as a trap, and we needed someone to help us get out. We sent out a message, and Simeon was the first to respond." Apparently, MC's story is plausible enough, for Beel simply nods his head and tells them that he's glad that we got out safely.

It intrigues me how they're able to come up with lies on the spot like that. Even Diavolo admitted that if he didn't have the ability to tell when people were lying to him, he would have totally believed MC's story of Lucifer trying to recreate Irish coffee with Devildom ingredients back when the two of us swapped bodies and I was saying a bunch of stupid shit in an attempt to embarrass my brother.

I've wondered from time to time what MC would be like as a demon. Not because I want them to lose their humanity or anything; I'm merely intrigued by the possibility. I feel like one of their powers would lie in speechcraft, specifically the ability to make someone believe whatever it was they're saying, even if it had no basis in any reality whatsoever. Perhaps their tongue would literally turn silver as they spoke. How many people would fall victim to it? I imagine quite a few, since MC appears trustworthy. Unlike, say, Mammon or Asmo, who people can tell are trying to sell them something from a mile away.

We're incredibly lucky that we have MC on our side, because if we had to fight them...

"Yo, Beel!" Great. Mammon's joined us. "What're you doing hangin' out here? And who are they?"

"Looks like two real cuties!" And Asmo, too. "So, tell me: what are your names, hm?" His nearly baby-like voice is making my skin crawl. It always does. I may not get along with him sometimes, but at least the Asmo that I know can modulate his voice to sound like a reasonable adult. This version of him, on the other hand, appears to only have one setting.

"Are you friends of Simeon's?" Man, where is everyone coming from? I feel like Levi literally popped out of thin air.

Simeon introduces us to the other angel brothers, and Asmo takes the opportunity to try to flirt with me. In that godawful baby voice. I feel like my glare towards him is justified.

"Beelzebub, you mentioned you were looking for Belphegor, right?" Simeon asks. I must have missed that part of the conversation. "I have an idea where he might be. MC and I will go find him for you. In the meantime, look after Daniel for me, would you?"

That sneaky little angel. Using the opportunity to be alone with MC is one thing, and for the most part I let that sort of thing slide. But Simeon has always lamented the fact that I never got to experience life in the Celestial realm as my own individual, since I was stuck in Lucifer's head until the fall. I keep telling him that I don't really have a desire to know that kind of information, but he doesn't listen. Or care, it seems.

I will get him back for this.

[sdyd]

𝑀. the secrets of life ... sentence starters from valentine wolfe's 2018 album, the haunting of mary shelley. feel free to change tense / pronouns !

you'll see me soon, or nevermore.

how slowly time passes here.

I am as fixed as fate.

I can't stop, or turn back now.

I've left too much unsaid.

I am your voice in the dark.

I have no friend.

they will try to cut you up.

they will put you back together wrong. so very, very wrong.

a vessel can have many purposes.

decoration lends a purpose

hold on to my voice at night.

you can be remade.

revel in the decadence as they wallow in their ignorance.

you will have all the knowledge they foolishly squandered away.

you won't ever be alone again.

you can hear her anguished cries.

your compassion makes you perfect, so perfect.

I know what you seek.

I know why you cry.

I know your breaking heart.

I know how you'll die.

[ name ] was as a daughter.

we thought that your compassion made you perfect.

the shadowed window pane offers a ghostly glimpse into your paradise of domestic bliss.

where is my place in this ?

I am an endless wanderer upon this land, a maker's thoughtless touch.

why am I so alone ?

you never stooped so low.

chase away my fears.

my tears must burn with rage.

lashing out in anger, my soul is fractured fragments.

this haunted world is littered with the ghosts of the past.

everywhere I turn there’s a part of me in all of them.

there’s so much of you in all of me.

but I don’t fit.

then sorrow shall follow behind me as my bridal train.

It’s a mystery I never understood.

it's not your story to tell.

she never knew her mother.

her voice was always there.

If only the good doctor had taken better care to imbue their new creation with a mother’s love.

what horrors might have been averted !

this author knew her subject well.

all men hate the wretched, how then must I be hated.

your actions have wronged me, I must have revenge.

I am miserable beyond all living things.

make me happy, I shall again be virtuous.

what flows out must pour back in.

I will be with you on your wedding night.

I will glut myself on your shrieks.

I will revel in your misery.

I bear a hell within me, I will loose it all upon you

you will learn to dread misfortune, you will learn the agony.

I will work at your destruction, I will desolate your heart.

the death knell shall be rung, each toll a stake into your heart.

in the halls of silence, electric genius cursed me.

I remember when I wondered : what if no one had to die ?

no more farewells.

you will never have to die.

it was not what I'd intended.

I was only ever meant to live alone until the end.

death is now a welcome guest.

the pages turn, the book never ends.

the story grows cold inside my head.

I only ever wanted to help.

the echo of you will never be enough, as long as the black veil separates us.

even stretched on your grave, I’m not close enough.

the reaper is a friend.

death's kiss is a gift.

you took from me, my agency.

now I'm just a whisper in a shadow.

I am leaving this world behind.

do not search for me in heaven.

they were atypical in their custom and belief.

yet, I am bound to them.

they would slander and decry that which they don’t understand.

ignorance will lead to fear, especially if it runs unchecked.

the only way to fight the dark is by lighting up the truth.

never once back away from what lies beyond.

your lies can't hurt me now.

[ashprompts]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 (𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒) — 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from the album by boygenius, "the record." feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

"give me everything you've got, i'll take what i can get."

"i want to hear your story and be a part of it."

"who would i be without you?"

"speak to me until your history's no mystery to me."

"talk to me until the words run dry."

"i'll give everything i've got, please take what i can give."

"i want you to hear my story."

"it's a bad idea and i'm all about it."

"when you wake up, i'll be gone again."

"in another life we were arsonists."

"mama told me that it don't run on wishes, but that i should have fun."

"so many hills to die on."

"run out of gas, out of time, out of money."

"you're doing what you can, just making it run."

"take a break, make your escape."

"can you give me twenty dollars?"

"i know you have twenty dollars."

"she's asleep in the back seat looking peaceful enough to me."

"we're coming back from where no one lives."

"[name], i'm sorry."

"i just make it up as i go along."

"i can feel myself becoming someone only you could want."

"now i'm wide awake, spiraling."

"i'll get a real job, you'll go back to school."

"we can burn out in the freezing cold."

"you know how i get when i'm wrong."

"i can feel myself becoming somebody that i'm not."

"i'm 27 and i don't know who i am."

"you can't help but become the sun."

"when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out."

"it feels good to be known so well."

"i can't hide from you like i hide from myself."

"you already hurt my feelings in the way only you could."

"i remember who i am when i'm with you."

"your love is tough." / "your love is tried and true blue."

"you've never done me wrong, except for that one time."

"it doesn't matter anymore."

"who won the fight?"

"i don't know, we're not keeping score."

"i'm trying to be cool about it."

"wishing you were kind enough to be cruel about it."

"telling myself i can always do without it, knowing that it probably isn't true."

"it's impossible to pass your tests."

"i'm trying to forget about it."

"kindly get out of my head about it."

"once i took your medication to know what it's like." / "and now i have to act like i can't read your mind."

"i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie."

"we don't have to talk about it."

"i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning."

"it's nice to see how good you're doing."

"we know it isn't true."

"it would only take the energy to fix it."

"i don't know why i am the way i am."

"not strong enough to be your man."

"i can't stop staring at the ceiling fan."

"spinning out about things that haven't happened."

"do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement?"

"i lied, i am just lowering your expectations."

"half a mind that keeps the other second guessing."

"always an angel, never a god."

"i think i've been having revelations."

"skip the exit to our old street and go home."

"go home alone."

"you live up in my head."

"i've been making music since you told me to do it."

"i just wanna know who broke your nose."

"figure out where they live, so i can kick their teeth in."

"if this isn't love then what the fuck is it?"

"i guess just let me pretend."

"i don't wanna die. that's a lie, but i'm afraid to get sick."

"if you're not enough, then i give up."

"i used to think if i'd just close my eyes, i will disappear."

"if you love me, you will listen to this song."

"i could tell that you were serious."

"it gave us more time to embarrass ourselves."

"i might like you less now that you know me so well."

"there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

"i am not an old man having an existential crisis."

"i never thought you'd happen to me."

"will you be a satanist with me?"

"mortgage off your soul to buy your dream vacation home in florida."

"tryin' to score some off-brand ecstasy."

"will you be an anarchist with me?"

"sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie."

"at least until you find out what a fake i am."

"spray paint my initials on an atm."

"i burn my cash and smash my old tv."

"will you be a nihilist with me?"

"if nothing matters, man, that's a relief."

"if nothing can be known, then stupidity is holy."

"if the void becomes a bore, we'll treat ourselves to some self-belief."

"oh, you know what i should do?"

"it's so hard to come back."

"you could absolutely break my heart."

"that's how i know that we're in love."

"i don't need the symbol of a scar."

"isn't it enough that we stripped down to our skin?"

"i feel crazy in ways i never say."

"will you still love me if it turns out i'm insane?"

"i know what you'll say, but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

"damn, that makes me sad." / "it doesn't have to be like that."

"if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?"

"i can't imagine you without the same smile in your eyes."

"there is something about you that i will always recognize."

"if you don't remember, i will try to remind you."

"i will go on and on until it all comes back."

"i'm out of my depth at a public beach."

"i never listened, i had to see it for myself."

"making peace with my inevitable death."

"i guess i did alright, considering." / "tried to be a halfway decent friend."

"an honest fool with more bad habits than you can count."

"was anyone ever so young?"

"breaking curfew with illegal fireworks."

"unpacking god in the suburbs."

"you don't have to make it bad just cause you know how."

"writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard."

"an incantation like an anti-curse."

"i think that you're special." / "you told me once that i'm selfish."

"you said my music is mellow, maybe i'm just exhausted."

"you think you're a good person because you won't punch me."

"i love you. i don't know why, i just do."

"you're not special, you're evil."

"you don't get to tell me to calm down."

"you made me feel like an equal, but i'm better than you and you should know that by now."

"it looked like it hurt and i wasn't sorry."

"i should have left you right there."

"you don't know me."

"i wanna be happy."

"i'm ready to walk into my room without looking for you."

"i'll go up to the top of our building."

"i can't feel it yet, but i am waiting."

[that-howlingdrakesng]

A White Lie and A Stuffed Rabbit (Pit Bonnie x Reader) - Chapter 1

A/N: Okay guys. You all asked for it and the story will be posted on Tumblr as well. I'll tag certain chapters according so that you'll know what to expect as you go.

You've heard tales about Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria and their history of children gone missing within their establishments. Of course, being the curious thrill-seeker that you were, you decided to visit the location. However, you found out that the Fazbear pizzeria was the newly remodeled Jeff's Pizza. 

The second you set foot inside, you were being hunted down by an aggressive, man-eating animatronic. To make matters worse, you're trapped in 1985 because of a dirty ball pit you fell into and the yellow rabbit has taken an interest in you as a mate. 

Maybe this was a bad idea after all…

Chapter 1: Into the Pit

This evening was the perfect time for a casual ride through the town. As you were pulling up your Hayabusa from the garage, you began to wonder about the old news articles you've read online. There were so many of them relating to the missing children from the 80s. All last seen in Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. It was sad to think that a fun place meant for kids and parents could turn into a dreaded nightmare. Of course, the incidents didn't stop there. Apparently, the Fazbear franchise has a dark and infamous history of having children winding up missing as well as a few adults. They were presumed dead, but the authorities could not recover the bodies. They were nowhere to be found.

Setting those thoughts aside, you turned on the ignition on the motorcycle and kicked the gear up to first before riding off into the road.

Riding a Hayabusa on the street was completely different from riding your old Ducati Panigale. For starters, it was much faster and harder to control. Each time you slowed down to make a turn, you quickly forgot how sensitive the throttle was on the bike due to the four cylinder engine and high torque. You have no idea how people that owned a Hayabusa could handle driving it on the street. This feels like it's made for a race track or something.

As you were driving through one of the neighborhoods, you happened to spot your old neighbors in the driveway with their kid. You gradually came to a smooth stop in front of their house, revving your bike and honking your horn to get their attention.

“Jake! Marissa! Hey!” you shouted, waving your arm in the air.

One of them looked over to their side as they were getting out of the car, recognizing the flashy riding gear you'd usually wear during your night ride.

“Oh my God, is that Saffie?” the blonde woman gasped in surprise, watching you pull up to the driveway with your black sports bike.

Carefully, you removed your cat-eared bike helmet and placed it on your seat. You turned the ignition key to the off position before walking over to the woman with your arms open for a hug.

“Oh! It is you!” she said as she accepted the hug with a warm smile. ���I thought I'd never get to see you again after you moved.”

“Well, I figured I'd stop by while I was riding through town on my new gently-used Suzuki Hayabusa,” you said, patting on the side fairings of your motorcycle. “Man, it's been like what? Four years since we've graduated from college?”

“Seems that way,” the woman laughed. The husband walked over to the two of you, fixing his blue fitted shirt. “Honey, you remember Saphelia? Our old neighbor?”

You greeted with a small wave of your hand and a smile. “Hey, Jake. Long time, no see.”

“Oh, wow! I can't believe it,” he laughed. “Saffie the stunt rider. Back in town.”

“Ha! I wish!” you snorted. “I haven't done any stunt tricks since I left to get my master-level certificate.”

“Oh c'mon! You can't tell me that you didn't try to pull off at least once while you were studying abroad.”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not one,” you lied. You actually practiced several stunt tricks from watching a French motorcyclist on YouTube. And that was only when you had any downtime.

“Ah whatever. Maybe one day, you'd teach me how to ride one of your motorcycles,” the man suggested with a laugh.

“Absolutely not, Jake.” Marissa, the blonde woman, rejected the idea of her husband riding a motorcycle. Especially when they have a child to take care of. “Driving a car is enough. I don't want you to get comfortable with the idea of getting a motorcycle just so you can pull a wheelie down the street.”

“She's right, man,” you shrugged, smirking at her statement. “You're better off in a car. I got my Ducati wrecked by some ignorant cager because he tried to run me off the road.”

“Oh, not the Ducati,” Jake said in a mournful tone. “Those things cost a fortune to replace. And all that detailing you got done on that bike.”

“Yeah… Yeah,’’ you sighed. “That Panigale was irreplaceable. It was given to me by my bestie when I got out of college. But hey, I'm alive, aren't I?”

While you were chatting with your old neighbors, their kid, Oswald, came up to them asking when were they going to come inside the house to start dinner. As soon as he mentioned it, you checked the time on your smartwatch and saw that it was nearly 8 o'clock. You never realize how much time you've spent talking to them and you apologized profusely to the couple. They told you that it was fine and they enjoyed their conversation with you. Marissa happily invited you to stay over for dinner, but you had to decline the kind offer, explaining that you have somewhere to be. Although, you would be happy to come by for a visit the next time you were in town.

As you were getting ready to get back on the road, you noticed their kid, Oswald glancing at you with a sulking expression before going inside the house. Strange. It was a little unusual for him to not be his cheerful self. Did something happen while you were gone? Come to think of it, the town you once knew was slowly dying out. Buildings were abandoned, businesses being forced to close down, and even the neighborhoods were less than lively. Did it have something to do with the mill being shut down?

You searched up the address of the old Fazbear pizzeria on your phone and noticed something peculiar. In one of the online articles you found, someone bought the old building and renamed it to “Jeff's Pizza”, much to your surprise. You had no idea that the place you would always visit during your college years was actually the infamous Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. Now you were even more eager to pay that place a visit. And maybe mess with that half-assed owner, Jeff.

You looked up the address to the pizza place and followed the directions on the GPS. When you arrived there, the place was just how you remembered it. However, something felt off about it. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you didn't want to think about any bad possibilities that could happen.

You parked your bike to the side of the entrance, turning the ignition key before taking the key itself out. You removed your helmet and hung the strap of it on the handlebars, still unable to shake off this feeling of unease. You kept telling yourself that it's fine. Everything is fine. You're just overthinking things as usual.

As you approached the two doors, you peeked inside to see small trails of blood on the floor. You really hoped that it's actually pizza sauce and not blood. Maybe Jeff was half-asleep while he was making pizza, you thought. Yeah, that could be it. 

Without any hesitation, you pulled the door open and stepped inside the building. There weren't any people here at this hour so you were the only one here for right now. You approached the counter and made a small glance at today's menu. The prices for the pizza were fairly cheap but if you had to guess, there's a chance that the ingredients to make it were cheaper. Which was almost never a good thing.

“Hello? Jeff?” you called out. There was no response. “Jeffy? It's your favorite customer, Saffie. I wanna order some pizza before I head out to the track.”

Once again, no response.

You let out a sigh. Guess you could explore the place to kill some time.

You began with one of the rooms on the left. Usually, the doors were locked for some unknown reason. This time, however, the red double doors were gone. As if they were torn off the hinges. This gave you the opportunity to look inside the room that was previously locked behind closed doors.

Upon entering, you immediately noticed the flashing colors on each of the arcade cabinets. Each with a different game title. You couldn't believe it. All this time, Jeff had these slick arcade games that he had locked up in this room. Not only that, this further proves that this location was previously the old Fazbear pizzeria. While you weren't very big on retro arcade games, the least you could do was to try one of them out.

You glanced through each of the arcade cabinets until you settled on a Galactica-themed shooting game. These cabinets already had the token system taken out, which was really nice for binging on a game for hours at a time.

The moment you started playing, you were hooked on it. It took a few tries to get a high score which lasted for a good thirty minutes. You had the patterns locked down, maneuvering the joystick with ease while rapidly pressing the buttons on the cabinet. You were so close to beating your previous high score until you heard a loud crash, startling you out of deep concentration with the game. Unfortunately, that one slip-up caused you to get hit by a stray bullet and lose the game. 

“Dammit, I was so close,” you groaned, not wanting to restart your whole progress all over again.

Your focus now was on that loud crash you just heard. It sounded like it was close by. Maybe Jeff was roaming around the dining hall. You made your way back to the counter and into the main dining area. No sign of Jeff anywhere, you thought. Where could he be?

There were a few things that you noticed right away. The same splotches of blood you've seen through the window of the door. The trail of dried up blood leading up to the room with the dingy old ball pit. Panic started to seep in, not knowing if you should call the police or investigate it for yourself. No. You shouldn't be jumping too far ahead to conclusions. You had to check for yourself before going to the authorities. Who knows? Maybe it's not such a big deal. Probably someone getting hurt and just trying to patch themselves up.

In the ball pit area.

…Heh.

You began to inch closer to the door, despite every part of you wanting to run the opposite direction. You tried to calm yourself as best as you could, thinking that nothing bad is going to happen. You had to lie to yourself in order to keep moving.

Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the door, left open by someone who could still very well be in the building. Shit. Why didn't you bring a knife with you? The one time you decide to leave it at home is when you actually have a need for it.

You took a deep breath as you quickly barged into the room, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. Your eyes frantically darted around the dark room, searching for anything that seemed out of place. It was hard to see with little lighting creeping through the door frame. The occasional flickering of the lights did help you gauge where you are in the room. For starters, the gross ball pit was still here and you were a few feet away from it. Don't want to accidentally fall in and get a skin infection from it. Wonder why Jeff hasn't gotten rid of it yet? Another thing that caught your attention was a giant yellow rabbit suit sitting in the corner across from the ball pit. Was that thing always here?

You cautiously approached the yellow rabbit suit, inspecting for any sign of wear. To your surprise, the suit looks fairly new aside from the unsettling black streaks from its eye sockets. It did come off as a bit creepy when you first saw it but up close, it looked kinda cute. Although, it's probably because you had a soft spot for rabbits. Especially the giant Flemish ones.

You wonder if Jeff was ever planning on using this suit for his business. As a way to draw the kids' attention perhaps? You laughed at the thought of Jeff dancing around in a yellow rabbit suit in a silly manner and saying things in the most ridiculous voice ever. You would never let him live it down. Come to think of it, you haven't ran into Jeff the whole time you've been here. Then again, you also haven't checked all the rooms. He could be somewhere in the back slacking off, jacking off, whatever he's doing at this time of night. Might as well check the other rooms while you're here. But before doing just that, there was one thing you wanted to do.

You pulled out your phone and giggled to yourself. “Hope you don't mind a little photoshoot, big guy,” you said with a grin.

You kneeled down next to the rabbit suit and snapped a few selfies with it. At one point, you went a little “risque” with the pictures, going as far as seating yourself on its lap and positioning its hand right over your crotch. Slowly, you unzipped your jacket to where it was exposing your given assets before you took another photo. You grabbed the other hand that was on its side and placed it on your breast, holding it in place with your own while you snapped a few more.

“Oh yeah. That's it, big guy,” you spoke in a seductive manner. “You like this, don't cha, you dirty rabbit?”

Satisfied with the pictures you have taken, you sat up from the rabbit's lap, dusting your pants off before heading out the door to the dining area. You couldn't believe you got yourself worried over nothing.

“Well. Time to find that loser, Jeff,” you said to yourself.

You started off with the kitchen where he would normally be to make the pizza for his customers. The room was empty and the oven was turned off. Guess he's not here. You continued to search and explore each room, including the ones that were previously locked. As you roamed the party hall, your eyes wandered over each poster dedicated to the old animatronics that performed here. One was a brown bear with a top hat and bowtie, another was a blue bunny with a red guitar, and a yellow chicken with a bib that hung around their neck. You did remember reading about the animatronics being a band of some sort. A neat idea for an establishment, but why didn't they include a drummer as well? Kind of short-sighted of them to leave out a drummer in a band. 

After browsing through the party hall, you went over to the storage room in your search to find Jeff. The next room connected to this one was the security office, the only place left where Jeff could be. If he's not in the security office, then something was definitely wrong. 

You knocked on the door and called out his name. No response. You knocked on the door a little harder this time hoping to get some kind of response. Nothing.

“Alright, I'm coming in,” you announced. “You better have your pants on.”

You turned the knob of the door before pushing it open. You stepped into the dimly-lit office, expecting to see the lethargic owner in his seat at the computer. Unfortunately, he wasn't there.

He was nowhere to be found.

This was bad. If he's not here, then something must have happened to him. You needed to leave this place and call the police while you still can.

You made a full sprint out of the office with haste, rushing down the halls and to the main counter where the phone is stationed. You quickly dialed the number and you waited for them to pick up. A few rings later, you hear a female voice on the other line.

“Hello? 911. What's your emergency?” the lady asked.

“Yeah, I would like to file a missing report,’’ you informed the dispatcher as calmly as you could. “I think something bad happened and I don't know where he could be.”

“Okay. Can you give me the name of the missing person and your location?”

While you were in the middle of giving them the information the dispatcher requested, you felt yourself being yanked by the collar of your jacket. You let out a scream as you were flung back towards the wall and collapsed onto the floor. In your dazed state, you glanced up at the large yellow rabbit. It stood well over seven feet, much taller than a normal person. You could hear the unsettling groans from this unusual thing. It sounded as if it was struggling to breathe.

“Hello? Hello? Are you still there?” the dispatcher asked on the phone.

Once you recovered from being dazed, you slowly pieced together what was happening. This was the same yellow rabbit suit you saw at the ball pit area and it was walking. There's no way this thing was alive. It has to be Jeff playing a cruel prank on you.

The yellow rabbit picked up the phone and set it back on the receiver before snapping its attention to you.

“Holy shit,” you muttered quietly to yourself.

You had no idea how to process all this. You were frozen in place out of fear, legs shaking with your eyes trained on the walking suit in front of you.

“O-okay, Jeff,’’ you began despite the hint of fear in your voice. “Y-y-you got me good. Now why don't you t-take off the suit?”

The rabbit simply stared at you with its glowing blue eyes, unsure of your request.

“No, seriously. Take off the damn suit,” you demanded. “You're starting to scare me with that thing. If this is about the prank calls and the packages, then I'm sorry, okay?! You didn't have to take it this far!!”

The yellow rabbit began approaching you, emitting a series of garbled noises that didn't seem remotely human. You backed up further against the wall, eyes fully locked on the person in the suit. The rabbit caught your strong gaze and stopped inches away from you. At this point, you were trembling. You didn't know what to do and you were terrified. You should have left while you still could.

“Don't make things any harder for us…” the rabbit warned. Its voice when it spoke didn't sound human, but rather robotic and distorted in its speech.

Suddenly, the yellow rabbit grabbed the front of your jacket's collar, pulling you up to where you were at eye-level with it. You were pinned against the wall with your feet dangling below you. You attempted to pry its grip from your jacket, but you could barely move a single finger. The rabbit took notice of this and growled angrily at you. This was enough to make you stop, your hands clutching over its thick wrists.

“...Jeff? Wh-what are you going to do to me?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

The yellow rabbit stared at you for a moment before opening its jaws, revealing a row of sharp teeth behind its blunt ones. Large as daggers and sharp enough to pierce the skin and muscle down to the bone. You didn't see a human head inside the mouth of the rabbit but instead its black, tendril-like tongue and near pitch-black throat. As you found yourself gawking inside its dripping maw, you soon realized that this yellow rabbit was not at all human.

“Oh shit. You're…not Jeff,” you gasped. You were in serious trouble. And you needed to get away from this thing fast.

In a panic, you brought one of your hands over to the zipper and tugged it all the way down in hopes of escaping the creature's grasp. With a stroke of luck, the zipper of your jacket became undone and you let your arms slip out of the sleeves, causing you to fall to the ground. You quickly scurried to your feet, away from the yellow rabbit while it still had the jacket in its hands. Every nerve in your body told you to run. This time, you did exactly that.

The monster bellowed at you, chasing you down in full pursuit. You darted towards the next room where the old party hall was, hoping to shake them off in the next room. As you made your way down the party hallway, you rushed over to the door leading to the arcade. You tried to turn and pull on the knob but unfortunately, it was one of the few doors that was still locked in this place. You had no choice but to run to the other door that led to the storage area and there was no telling when that animatronic would catch up to you. With what little time you had to think it over, you took a chance and ran straight for the other door.

Just as you were about to grab the door handle, the creature had already made it into the room. You were not about to get killed by a giant stuffed rabbit, you thought, frantically yanking the door open to get to the storage area and to the arcade.

You ran as fast as you could from the lagomorphic creature, who was hot on your trail. You figured you could circle back to the main entrance and through the dining area once more. The only way you could lose this thing was to find a place to hide and hope that it will lose interest in you. The vents were too narrow for you to hide in and there's a chance that you could get stuck there with no help. You certainly weren't going to take a chance by hiding in the security office with no back-up plan. That leaves you with the dirty ball pit. Your skin crawled at the thought of being in that gross ball pit, but you needed to focus on getting away from the creature and you didn't have time to be picky about it.

Ultimately, you chose to hide in the ball pit area.

You grabbed the nearest chair closest to the door and hurried inside, wedging the chair's backrest underneath the doorknob. That would at least buy you some time to hide before the yellow rabbit breaks the door open.

Your eyes wandered over to the ball pit, already having second thoughts. While it was pretty gross to look at, you couldn't help but notice a few things about it. The netting that hung over the ball pit was snapped apart and sliced in several places, traces of blood painted on the wooden edge as well as on the colorful plastic balls. Next to it was a broken flashlight, seemingly smashed to pieces. Someone was definitely here. And you had an idea on whose blood it might be.

Oh no. Is Jeff…?

No. That can't be it. There's no way you would believe it. Who in their right mind would want to hurt Jeff?

You didn't have time to dwell on that thought when you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. Shit. You needed to hurry and hide quickly.

“Well, here goes nothing,” you muttered to yourself before jumping into the ball pit.

You sunk below the surface of the dust-covered plastic balls, lights flashing periodically in the room. You waited for the yellow rabbit to enter the room, hoping that it wouldn't find you in the ball pit. Dust began to land in your eyes, forcing you to shut them tightly. Ugh. You really hope you don't contract a fungus infection after this.

You kept yourself still, being mindful of the sounds of your breathing. You waited for the lagomorphic creature to enter, your eyes still shut from the dust. At first, everything seemed too quiet. As if time froze in this very room. You continued to wait in the ball pit.

And you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Why hasn't that monster broken into the room yet, you wondered. Have they already given up? It was a possibility you hoped to believe, but you couldn't take any chances of getting caught.

After several minutes had passed, you eventually grew tired of waiting in the ball pit and decided to take a peek out of your less-than-ideal hiding place. Right off the bat, you noticed that the chair you used to hold the door was gone. Not only that, the room was entirely different from when you first entered. The faded yellow wallpaper was replaced with the cloud-pattern pastel mural and checkered tiles along the lower walls. A few small play structures scattered around the room, presumably for the younger children to play on. The thing that stood out to you the most was the safety netting that hung behind the ball pit. The netting was a torn, dangling mess when you first saw it. Now, it's as if it was never damaged. You also noticed the condition of the ball pit itself, seemingly brand new and free of the dust that once settled there. You had no idea what was going on, but at least you managed to get away from that dreaded bunny.

You slowly rose up from the ball pit, taking in this strange new environment that you were in. Carefully, you swing your leg over the edge onto the padded floors before doing the same with your other leg. You adjusted the straps of your bra as you looked around the room awe-struck with child-like wonder. Now you were curious to see what the rest of the place looks like.

As you walked out of the pit ball room and into the main dining area, you couldn't believe what you were seeing. The whole dining area was fully decorated with cut-out images of pizza as well as posters of the three animatronics that you've seen in the party hall. Behind you were those very same animatronics on the posters stationed on stage. They were a lot bigger than they were in the article pictures. This was insane. To be able to see them up close and in person made you feel absolutely giddy in a way.

Unable to control your excitement, you pulled up your phone and snapped a picture of the animatronics on stage. You then ran up to the stage and took a selfie with each of the robotic band members of the group. After taking a group selfie with them, you stepped off the stage and glanced through each of the photos you took, including the ones with the possessed yellow rabbit. In one of the photos, you noticed the glowing blue eyes staring right into the camera. Almost aware of what you were doing while you were goofing around with the selfies.

A thought crept into your head which made you shudder. That creature could have been asleep or deactivated for some time and you just happened to awaken it from its resting state. Did Jeff knew about this thing? Is that why he had that ball pit area closed off? Apparently, there's a lot more to this story than what you know.

You heard a creaking sound, followed by heavy footsteps echoing from one of the rooms. Your eyes were fixated on the room with the ball pit, hoping that no one is in there. When the door opened, behind it revealed two glowing blue eyes peering from the shadows. It lets out a dark, glitchy laugh that would send chills down your spine. You could feel the blood drained from your face as you watched the large lagomorphic creature emerge from the room. No. That's not possible, you thought. How did it manage to follow you through the ball pit? Unless…

Unless it knew you would dive into the ball pit to hide from them. And you ran straight into its trap.

[bklynmadman]

I grew up with Men like this.....

So, It's been awhile. Inspiration comes and goes, and it's been challenging to do the one thing that I've always loved to do, which is write. It doesn't matter if it's a Screenplay, or a Blog, or a Short Story. I've made it a point to try to get back to this exercise, and start with attempting a "Weekly" blog. Let's see how that goes for now, anyway, it's a topic that I've been thinking about since the Yankees lost the World Series. And that's is this election.

Before we go forward, this will be about Politics, so if you're seeing this and aren't interested, I will not be offended if you turned out or left. Just hit a like button before you move on. Thank you for reading this far, now back to our topic.

This election is probably the most polarizing one yet. On one side, we have Kamala Harris, the Democratic Frontrunner handpicked by President Biden, and Donald J. Trump, the so called "Republican" nominee for President of the United States. I say that in quotes for I no longer recognize this party as the party of Lincoln, as it has strayed further and further into extremism, hatred, and downright cruelty. I am a bit angry that this election is this close when it should be a blowout. But, as History has shown us, when a Demagogue appeals to the worst in all of us, some are bound to answer that call.

The thing is, and when I realized this, it hit home for me, and that was my starting point for the inspiration of this blog post. I had to realize, I GREW UP WITH PEOPLE LIKE TRUMP. As sad as it is to admit, allow me to explain.

I was born to an Middle/Upper Class White American Family, with Italian/Sicilian Heritage in it. I've attended Private School from Kindergarten up until High School as well. I never knew what struggling was like or went without. I did recognize there were others in my circle less fortunate than I was, but I had no idea how to empathize with them or see things from their point of view. I was taught that I was superior to others, including minorities, because of where I was born and what I had. (It didn't take for I've learned it was covert racism and I have since disavowed it) I wouldn't and still don't admit this when people meet me for the first time for I've learned as I aged, many people are quick to judge the moment it's revealed that you grew up with or had access to money. I'd like for people to get to know me before I share that with them on the grounds that no stereotypes or generalizations come towards me.

Staten Island is a small knit community, and does allow certain "Bubbles" to be formed. Staten Island is primed for people to live in isolation or separated from the rest of the city/state/world if people really wish to do so. The geographical layout helps Staten Island in this area for it is separated from the rest of the 5 Boroughs. Even then, it became people only kept to their social circles, or at least I was encouraged to do so, and did for awhile.

Growing up with people who are privileged, and I'm talking about wealthy white privileged people here, there tends to be a disconnect between them and the rest of the world. This may be a gross generalization, but this info is coming from someone who grew up with similar people in that circle, and demographic.

So, what can I say about Wealthy Whitey and the practices of that inner circle? For starters, Growing up wealthy, and privileged, many kids come away from it with pride and arrogance to their situation. Many mimic their parents, and how parents deal/talk with or about other people in their social circle. A lot of us found it normal when our parents would "Karen" out with a worker/waiter/ whomever is not giving them what they want. At the time, we thought "How couldn't it be normal? I saw other dads and moms do it, and I saw my own parents do it as well." The thing is, Wealthy White people aren't usually taught to be humble, or shown to be empathetic towards others. Before there was a word for it, I've watched what is now known as "Karen"ing. (Again, this was the circle I grew up in. Not to generalize) It became a general accepted practice when Rich White folk felt they weren't getting their money's worth. However, watching the other person, it's a degradation exercise like you've never seen.

When I think about some of the "Karen"ing I've seen, in my early years, (I can say that shit now that I've turned 40, so ha!) I've come to think about it a bit further. For instance, I don't know a single person who parts with their money, and when they feel they aren't getting their money's worth, say something or speak up for themselves. However, for Rich Whitey, this is much much much different feeling. In the circles I grew up in , it felt like someone had told the King to fuck off. There were always these invisible rules that service workers had to hit or the screaming/abuse began, but also gave us first hand knowledge of the "power of money".

The long and short of it is that when Wealthy people spend money, they expect a level or service that sings to a much higher standard than normal people. They will get upset/act out if they feel they are being treated like everyone else. Much of that feeling stems from insecurity. For example, If I'm spending let's say $10,000 on a dinner with my family, some would consider it terrible service if their drink had ever reached the bottom of the glass at any point during that dinner. Not even bothering to take into account things like: other tables, or other people waiting for their food, or the amount of staff working that evening. It doesn't matter! The attitude is this: If I'm dropping that kind of money, I want certain concessions. Even if the concessions are outrageous, it doesn't matter. The money being spent gives many the opinion that they are above the usual standard , even if it's a simple matter of being able to spend much more than the average joe, and want the extra/bonus things that type of spending would bring with it. (Again, it's insecurity)

This type of attitude breeds White Wealthy Privilege, and what winds up happening is many of the kids mimic their parents in both action and attitude. When people have a few dollars, they not only think that they should be receiving a better standard of service, but they also believe that most laws/rules do not apply to them either. Society bends over backwards for these big spenders only because of their big spending habits. Anyone who has worked in a high class restaurant as a waiter knows their regulars well, and also know that sometimes these regulars are assholes in attitude.

Why does this continue? Some of these richers I'm talking about are under the belief that their spending habits are putting more food on the table of others, and therefore are entitled to a level of consideration that goes beyond the normal expectations of a waiter/server. Many behave badly or obnoxiously, and it was justifed to me once that because of the amount of money being dropped on a bill, that the act was considered charity work. We've seen it with so called Celebrities such as James Corden, who had a habit of treating servers with ultimate disrespect simply because he was under the belief that it was a privilege to serve him, and anyone should be grateful for the opportunity to do so. That attitude reigned supreme where I grew up, and you can only be that way if you had the bank account to back it up. I would come to find out later, that the ones with the smaller bank accounts would mostly act this way, while the ones with the larger bank accounts were usually a lot nicer and humbler. (Insecurity is such a bitch, isn't it?)

One time when I was younger, I once saw another parent whom we were vacationing with at the time, in a high class hibachi bar raise an attitude and stink because the waiter told his kid they ran out of Coca-Cola. As a result, He completely "Karen"d it, threw a tantrum to the point that after awhile, the General Manager himself came over with a six pack of Coca Cola, and told the waiter to put the rest in a refrigerator for when the kid wants another one. This event, in and of itself, was bad for kids to watch now that I think about it, for us kids at the table watching learned first hand the power of spending a lot of money, and see how people "Hop To It" to get those who spend it what they want, regardless if it's reasonable or not.

Kids of the wealthy learn that money can bring you anything, even if it seems impossible. If nothing else, it brings a sense of power. For the right amount, it teaches kids you can get anyone to do anything for the right number. Some write this off as nothing or just the way the world works, but make no mistake, it's taking advantage of truly desperate people. As a result, what happens is that rich people just come to expect that type of treatment, without the pricetag. And therein lies the "disconnect" I was talking about earlier.

Sometimes when kids come from massive amounts of wealth, many have trouble relating to other people or people not in their economic class. How could they? They haven't experienced any of the issues from the other side, (the non-wealthy side), so how can they relate to anyone not in their economic class? It's all they know. In their world, no one tells them no, and anyone can be bought for the right number. However, what happens is sort of a result of a Pavlovian experiment, where the behavior is reinforced or exemplified, but the means and factors that enable it are removed. Everyone in their world acts like this, so this is their normal.

I won't be naming specific individuals that I spent my youth with, but I've come across many people who have acted, and moved through life like Republican Nominee Donald J. Trump. Let's talk about this GOP nominee for a second. He's a bully, a wanna be tyrant who believes he's a VIP only because of his money and what he/his brand brings when he's out. I don't know Donald, but in a sense I do know Donald. I know that Attitude. The super entitled, rules don't apply to me, bully, narcissist who has delusions of grandeur.

Donald is a product of a wealthy family, and with that comes privileges. He had his pick of the best and learned one trick that continues to work in his life. It's how to bully others to get what he wants. Many richers bully others, or use their wealth or weight to get what they want, and most of the time, it works. People on the receiving end usually don't have time to deal with it properly, don't want too, or the money is so crucial to them so they'll put up with bad behavior. The Richers know this, and continue to do it because of the other person's love/need of the money they get However, in the grand scheme of things, the money usually isn't that much, and this type of relationship only benefits the richer, and not the worker. You'll find that the worker has given much much more in service than he/she has received in compensation. It's exploitation at it's finest.

What made Trump a bully? Well, Bullies usually cover up something about themselves that they don't want others to see. In this case, Trump probably exhibits undiagnosed Dyslexia, meaning he can't read. There are a few reports in the news of people working with him or have worked with him that have admitted that he can't read. Id imagine he's probably ashamed of this, and reacts aggressive when someone calls him out on it. Trump has a lot of these flaws, which is what makes him the most insecure person in the world, and simultaneously, the potentially most dangerous person in the world if he is elected.

So why does Trump have enablers? Well, They're either bullied into it, or given a sum they are made to work for, and despite the sum, Trump expects the sun and the moon for his coin. In a sense, and this is the other ugly side of having a lot of money, when people like this give you a paycheck they think they're entitled to you, as if they bought you and own you like a pair of socks or a car. With that type of ownership, the worker is no longer a human being to the Richer. They aren't supposed to have problems, issues, children, or even issues getting to work on time. The attitude is "I pay your salary. You work for me. You do what I say or I will get someone who will." This attitude is the worst one to have, and the one that often causes anxiety issues or severe depression among the workers who have a supervisor that feels this way.

RECAP: Rich White Men mostly exhibit the following...

1.) Being the Center of Attention due to Status

2.) Knowing Money can make others do anything they wish

3.) A sense of ownership over someone once money is exchanged for someone's services.

So, what you basically have is a person of privilege, who is running for the highest office in the land, who wants the position he once held. Let's circle back to number 2 for a second. We all know money can make people do crazy things, but to those who have a lot more than others, it's a tool to do anything.

We see it in the news all the time, Rich White People usually don't face consequences for their actions. They pay a hefty fine, get a slap on the wrist, and the story disappears from the news just as quickly as it appeared. It's a given, outside of murder and mass fraud (i.e. Bernie Madoff) there are different laws that apply to Rich White Men. Donald is in that category. His entire life, he has learned to bully his way out of charges.

He has been charged, along with his father of discriminatory housing practices when he first started. He has been charged with running a phony university, a phony charity, and even falsified property values to get himself more favorable business loans. That last one he has been found liable for, and is currently banned from doing business in New York State.

He's used his lawyers to bully workers that performed work for him, either in one of his casinos or one of his properties, and refused to pay them what he agreed to pay them. If anyone had listened to the testimony given by his former fixer Michael Cohen, this was a flex for Donald. He was once quoted talking about one worker who completely renovated a few of his suites in one of his hotels for him, "I paid him enough".

He has assaulted multiple women, found liable for sexual assault against E Jean Carroll. He's best friend was Jefferey Epstein, known pedofile and sex trafficker. He also pals around with people like Vince McMahon, Former WWF/WWF owner, who is currently in a lawsuit that accuses him of sexual assault, rape, and sex trafficking. Birds of a Feather much?

After awhile, when you dodge these charges, an attitude develops. Trump has railed against the Judges, and people who have spoken out against him, denied his crimes, and even went so far as to say "Charges should've never been brought." There was even a rumor, that should Donald retake the white house, he will find a way to clear his record of any wrongdoing.

No one stops to think, where does this attitude come from? It comes from being a Spoiled Child who never had to face any consequences for his actions. A cruel one at that who really gets off at putting others down or depriving others of things.

In my circle of youth, We were taught that laws don't really apply to us, and that we could challenge them when we wished. We were encouraged to speak up when things didn't go our way, regardless of a badge or an uniformed officer. I used to hang out with a few "do you know who I yam?" people, and even more embarrassing "Do you know who my father is?" Money was usually spent whenever one of our circle got in trouble with the law. Many DUI, and DWI's covered up with slaps on the wrists, and hefty fines. So, why should the richers care if they can simply buy their way out of it?

The thing is, in Donald's case, he resents that he even has to pay money to get out of a jam. Donald truly believes he is king of the universe, and that different laws apply to him. It's evident in his actions, and his words. He is telling the truth usually about how horrible he is, and I stress to those that don't know, BELIEVE HIM!

This guy is under the impression that everyone is an enemy out to get him. He's constantly fighting with everyone, over anything because he wants to be treated like royalty, for he firmly believes that is what he deserves. He respects no one and nothing, none of his first two wives, and not even his 3rd wife with he has had many overt extramarital affairs, (Stormy Daniels, Karen McDougal, and recently Laura Loomer. I mean, c'mon, sleep overs???? And people bought that?) Lord knows, who else.

How could all of this happen? Well, what do you reasonably expect from a privledged white rich dude, who doesn't have much money as he claims(Remember: Insecurity?) was never made to face consequences for his actions, who has always been able to get out of trouble mostly unscathed? Well, you get Donald Trump.

People seem to forget he only points out his own problems and talks about how he's slighted, how he's oppressed, how he's being treated unfairly. (I would even go so far as to wager that those shooters who tried to take him out were paid for by his campaign to garner sympathy. Check their family members bank accounts and see if there are sudden changes.)

I conclude, we can do better than this. You don't empower someone like this or reward them with power. It will only be spent to further his own gain, and I feel sorry for people that truly believe he'll fix their problems. He never has done anything, nor will he, that didn't benefit him.

[bluerose5]

Since I'm slowly but surely getting through the game and probably will wait til I get Astarion's full story before I write any fic, some starter thoughts on if he and Zevran met. Probably set within the context of BG3 because I feel like it's a more flexible setting to work with than DA.

Zevran still having pretty much his same background, working for an assassin's guild called the Crows. Maybe a powerful enemy of Cazador's knows not entirely of the ritual but that he believes Astarion is key to something. Puts out a contract. Most assassins aren't willing to anger the likes of Cazador or tbh they're in his pocket. Maybe there are even rumors that circulate in the shadows of his true nature. Either way, Zevran is the one that takes the contract for the same reasons as DAO. There's an ambush. Tav questions him. Tav recruits him. Astarion disapproves.

The expected sass and flirting occurs of course, but it soon turns into a situation of like recognizing like. They make it into an unsaid competition of sorts instead of taking any of it seriously, always trying to one-up the other. If any of the others complain, they both turn their words on them instead.

Zevran probably brings up their kills at first. When Astarion doesn't seem keen on opening up about what he did under Cazador, Zevran asks him about what he's done instead during his time adventuring, which he is more open to bragging about. Surprise, the two of them bond over tales of murders they've committed while the others listen in, some more disturbed than others by their flippant approach.

Yes, yes, have to bring up lockpicking! Zevran trying to show off on some tiny, little chest that's easy to pick. Meanwhile, Astarion is over here going, "Watch this." and picking every door and chest in sight. Zevran acts disgruntled but highly approves.

Likewise, any time they're in a populated area, they make a game out of it to see who can pickpocket/steal the most valuable items by the end of the trip. Tav is not amused if this ends up, on the rare occasion, alerting the guards and landing them in jail. Good thing they'd be more than happy to lead the jailbreak.

Any time they head out, both of them try to guess where the other has concealed any daggers. They switch up how many and where they keep them each time.

The first time Zevran happens to see Astarion's back —clearly he doesn't let just everyone see it or linger on it at least— rather than draw too much attention to it, Zevran probably makes light of it, says it's quite a display, and then draws attention to his own scars to make Astarion feel more at ease. Welcomes it when Astarion asks questions until they're both exchanging stories again, although their smiles are more wistful than joyous when they recount the torture they've endured at their masters' hands.

No, I'm not avoiding the obvious. Sex? Yeah, they probably had sex early on, but the instant Astarion grows distant, I could see Zevran withdrawing as well. Neither of them are stupid. Both of them are more perceptive than people give them credit for. That first time, honestly, probably felt "tainted" for both of them after the fact. They don't bring it up for a while really.

On another, similar note, the instant one of them brings up using sex or their body as a tool, all of it suddenly clicks. It's essentially the spiderman meme.

The pure frustration that comes up when the other calls them out on their bullshit because they know best when one of them is putting on airs rather than speaking his mind.

Whether Zevran lets Astarion drink from him or not, I'd say probably so. In the beginning, it happens only if there was something in it for Zevran to gain from the exchange. Later, he would be more open to it when he trusts Astarion, although he'd joke that he'd prefer it after a little charming and wooing.

I honestly could see them having a strong bond, romantic or platonic. Either one could work in my opinion. It, like any relationship, would just take a lot of work and effort on both ends. Both of them learning to simply exist with someone who understands them more than anyone else...

Seriously, think about them being comfortable around each other and getting all the hugs, cuddles, and kisses they can ask for. Need I say more?