#don't mind me I'm just severely sleep deprived and frustrated

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

You know what? Nevermind. Stop leaving comments on my fic. I don't want comments saying "I wanted you to do this/I thought you'd do that" or ones I can't tell if you're mocking me or not. Stop it. Grow up and learn to treat writers as human beings who are pouring their blood sweat and tears into a story that they're LETTING you read for FREE because they wanted to share a story they were having fun telling. Well, I'm not having fun anymore and I am 🤏this close to just stopping writing the story. And that makes me mad because I was having fun. We were in a mutualistic relationship where I was writing a story I enjoyed and people were also really enjoying it! Now I'm just feeling used.

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 9: Double-O-Vision

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"So, you said it's a small town, right?"

Rob stared up at the clouds from his vantage point on the ground. Last night, he had woken up screaming after several consecutive night terrors. Sarah was enthusiastic about the chance that he was being haunted after she was awoken by the first scream, but the second and third were more frustrating to her than anything. Eventually, Rob had managed to lift his pillow-shaped rock and had taken it to the small waterfall not too far from camp so that he wouldn't be able to accidentally wake her up anymore. Sarah didn't have the heart to tell him that he was so loud he had done so a few more times anyways.

The repeated bouts of laying awake in the darkness had given both of them plenty of time to come up with their own game plans for the day.

"Right," replied Sarah, nodding.

"But you said there's a shopping mall here."

"To be fair, it's not a super huge one."

"Who builds a shopping mall in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere?"

"Look, the show didn't get into the history of local real estate development, okay?"

He let out a sigh and rolled over onto his side. Despite the sunlight, sleep seemed ready to claim him at any moment, but every time his eyelid started to fall, an image from one of the nightmares popped into his head, and suddenly he was wide awake and energetic again.

"I guess we'll have the rest of our lives to figure it out," he said.

"The rest of our lives? What's that supposed to mean?"

Rob's mind was racing, and not just because of the sleep deprivation. Did she not realize that-

"We're not going back to Elmore," he said.

She sat up and turned to him- he wasn't looking, but he could tell by the sound effects and ominous music cue. She laughed nervously.

"Sure we are!"

"Oh yeah? Well, tell me how you plan to get us back, then." He crossed his arms and curled his knees up to his chest.

"Via the Awesome Store."

"What, do you have his number?"

"No, but if he comes back-"

"If he comes back, there's no way he's gonna stumble on us by chance! Besides, why on earth would he even look for us?"

"I think there's at least one reason," Sarah said, and then promptly changed the subject. "Anyways, you have an electronics store to rob, Rob! Have you ever robbed anyone before? 'Cause, you know, your name, and all?"

"Rob's a common name."

"I know! But if this is your first time robbing someone-"

"It's not."

"Oh. All the better! As I was saying, you have an electronics store to- ahem- steal from. Thankfully, there's a whole TV display in the front window, so it shouldn't be an issue. No need to even go inside! Just, wham!" she mimed smashing a plane of glass with a crowbar- "Break in, get it, get out."

"You said I also need a generator. And something to put the DVD into."

"Oh yeah. Well, hopefully once you break in everybody inside will either run screaming or pass out and then you don't have to worry about dealing with them."

"What if they call the cops?"

"They probably won't because you're so freaky-looking, and if they do, you could take those guys with one hand behind your back. As long as you're immune to getting tased."

"...I'm not!"

"No?"

"What gave you the idea I was?"

"Hmm. That's a good question, actually. I guess I just figured you were some sort of cyborg."

"A cyborg? I don't even look anything like a-" he groaned- "Never mind. So you're saying the cops will tase me? Why can't you come help me do this? You're sort of throwing me to the wolves here!"

"They're not wolves, they're people. We're literally in the middle of the forest right now. I bet there are wolves everywhere! One could be behind you and you wouldn't even know it! Maybe even mutant wolves, or wolves that have their heads on backwards and speak in code, or- you get the idea. Any one of those could be behind you."

Rob scoffed dismissively but rolled onto his back nonetheless.

"If you get arrested," Sarah continued, "you can just dig your way out with a spoon."

"Where am I getting a spoon from?"

"Good point."

After a long and awkward stretch of silence, Rob said 'welp', slapped his knee, flinched at the pain, mentally beat himself up for flinching at his own slap, flinched at the pain from mentally beating himself up, and stormed out of the forest in a huff when he realized he had to take action to avoid an infinite loop. Sarah followed him to the edge of the trees to hand him his crowbar like a concerned mother whose son forgot his lunch box on the first day of school. He didn't thank her. Five minutes into town, he realized he never got an answer to the question of why Sarah was making him do this alone, but it was too late to go back. Not really- he had all day- but it was the principle of the thing. Had he dwelled on that thought for longer, maybe he would have realized it didn't make any sense, but he was too occupied with finding the shopping mall to do that. It couldn't be too hard; after all, this was a small town!

-

Sarah read through the back cover of her DVD yet again. It was significantly less fun than rewatching the show.

Just a few minutes south of Rob's campsite was another clearing where the mud was soft and a big stick was propped against a rock; Sarah had made this place her canvas. The apocalypse had allowed her to tap into her destructive instincts, which she had discovered were almost as potent as her creative ones and just as enjoyable to use, but that didn't mean she could go a day without at least doodling something or having an elaborate daydream. The thing about drawing in the dirt with a stick was that the final product never quite looked good enough.

She drew a little heart on the ground with her finger and put an S in it, for Sarah. Just as she was about to complete it with two more initials, she glanced over at the dozen or so other identical hearts she had drawn recently, and wondered for a moment if she was perhaps getting in a rut. What if the van never returned and she was stuck here and she never got to see their faces ever again and she forgot what they looked like? On one hand, that could totally be a setup for, like, a heartbreaking reunion plot. On the other, it could be the end, assuming this was a tragedy. Was it even possible to forget them? She remembered every detail... right now. But brains were fallible. Would love protect her, or would it be a moral about how love never truly protects anyone from the inevitable marching forth of time? She sighed. Sarah was used to sighing for theatrical purposes, but now there was nobody to fool except herself. 'I am just that committed', she thought, and that cheered her up a bit- so much so that she never even considered that the negative emotions behind the sigh could have been real.

Part of her felt guilty for wasting time. She hadn't come here for the trees and occasional monsters, she had come here for the people, and also demons. Mostly demons- actually, mostly demon, singular. But that didn't mean the idea of interacting with some of the others didn't excite her. She couldn't just barge into their lives, though! She wasn't human! That had never ever mattered before.

'At least it won't matter once I'm back in Elmore', she thought.

'We're not going back to Elmore', said Rob in her head.

"Oh, Rob," she said, rolling her eyes, smiling half-heartedly, and speaking out loud to someone who wasn't there. Nobody answered. There weren't even any monsters listening in? C'mon.

Sarah leaned back, closed her eyes, and counted sheep versions of her friends and classmates until the world fell away and she began to dream.

-

By what was either a normal consequence of life in a small town or some arcane miracle, Rob had arrived in front of the television display without seeing hide or hair of a single local human. That said, he had been looking down at his feet for most of the walk there, so maybe there had been some around.

Standing in front of the display case with the TVs made everything feel so real. Rob knew that it wasn't, of course, and yet some days that seemed like a distant, irrelevant fact. This was one of those days. He knew that bashing the glass in was his purpose at the moment, and yet it was so peaceful that doing so seemed a shame, even though reality was nothing more than a simulacrum created for the amusement of a media-hungry modern audience and none of it really mattered anyway because the heat death of the universe would someday render fiction entirely irrelevant. When that day came, would he die, or would he not even know that it happened? Sheesh...

He blinked and found that his head had slumped forward against the glass in the time that it took for him to think all of that. Boy, was he tired. He could lay down right here and- no!

He gave the glass a hard whack with the crowbar before he had the mental presence to stop himself. It bounced off with a clang that rang out like a tuning fork. Oh no- he'd need to do it again? He did it again, weaker this time, and the glass still didn't break. This was more difficult than anticipated. If someone saw this, they would laugh at him... no, wait, they'd probably call the cops. And then he'd get tased-

With a frustrated grunt, he swung harder and the glass splintered.

All it took was a light additional tap for the fruits of his mission to be fully exposed, and then he reached through the hole in the glass to grab one and three facts immediately set in, stymieing the evil, triumphant laugh in his throat before it could come out of his mouth:

1. The TVs were heavy,

2. He still needed to fetch a DVD player, a remote, and a generator,

3. There were people in the store-

4. And those people were looking at him!

As he took one frozen step back, he met the left eye of the silent, awed clerk behind the counter and thought, 'they're more scared of me than I am of them'. He had to believe that for this to work. He had to. With all the confidence he could muster, he shoved his anxiety deep down inside, stepped through the broken glass, maneuvered around the stack of TVs, left the display case, and put up finger guns at the clerk as if he was robbing a bank.

"This is a hold-up," he said, and it sounded cooler in his head. The clerk's hands went up. "Everybody on the floor!"

The two other customers in the store cowered behind a rack of phone chargers, one of them slumping down. The clerk promptly passed out. Either way, everybody was on the floor. Then, to Rob's horror, one of the customers- the one who hadn't slumped over- produced a cell phone from his pocket. Rob stepped towards him and aimed his 'guns' in the terrified man's face. The phone came on, and...

"Oh no, my battery's dead!" said the man as a red 'charge' symbol appeared on the screen.

Rob sighed in relief- and then both he and the man noticed the rack of phone chargers. Rob stepped forward, prepared to take the phone and crush it if need be, when the man's face fell once again.

"Wait, looks like they don't have anything that fits my old model."

Rob shook his head, feeling less like an intimidating bank robber and more like the world's luckiest petty thief.

"Uh, I suggest you pass out, man," Rob said, rubbing his own arm.

The guy obliged. Well, he tried to look like he was passed out, at least, but that was good enough.

It only took a few minutes to get a TV, an emergency generator (from the back), and a DVD player, load them onto a wheeled storage cart, and get out of Dodge with time to spare before the two genuinely-unconscious people woke up. That had been surprisingly easy! An unsettling feeling that he was being watched crept over him as he made his away from the electronics store, but it dissipated after just a few minutes of walking. Surely just another effect of the sleep deprivation. How many effects did sleep deprivation have, anyway?

-

Sarah took a sip of her milkshake. It didn't taste like anything, but that was fine since this was a dream. It was a dream, right? Okay, yeah, there was some sort of sky whale floating nearby and she was sitting on a giant toadstool in the middle of the mall. It was definitely a dream. But not a nightmare- not the sort of dream that would be thrust upon you as a punishment by a malevolent entity with an ulterior motive. This was the sort of dream she had most nights.

"He's not here," she mused, looking up into the eyes of her date, who looked at different moments like different boys she knew, most often two of them in particular.

"But I'm here, sweetie," he said, and tried to lean in for a kiss, but he turned to soapy water and spilled all over the floor before he could make contact with her. That was slightly weird, but not 'wake up screaming' weird. She got up and wandered through the dreamscape, feeling like a paper doll in a pool full of molasses as her legs refused to move any faster than slow motion.

"Hello?" she called. "You there? You know who you are."

No response. Sarah balled up her fists, puffed out her cheeks, and pinched herself hard on the arm, waking up in her art clearing with a disappointed sigh. It was then that she heard the sound of footsteps and the squeaking of wheels and decided that either this was Rob or some kind of half-wagon half-humanoid monster. Either way, she had to see for herself!

-

When the generator was running and the TV on, Sarah moved a rock in front of the eye of providence she had carved into the tree trunk. Rob found that strange. Whatever this DVD was, Sarah didn't want Bill to see it, which seemed rather counter-intuitive considering her entire goal here.

The two of them had dug a little ditch to sit in for ease of viewing. Sarah reached for the DVD enthusiastically, but her smile dropped off her face when she saw Rob, asleep, sprawled over in the ditch. She reached for his shoulder. He screamed so loud that she fell backwards.

"Another nightmare?" she asked.

"Yeah. This one had lots of stabbing." He let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Thanks for w-w-waking me up! I think I would have s-shh-screamed in my sleep and kept on going if you hadn't."

His voice had a new wavering quality to it, not quite a stutter but something close.

"Okay, you don't seem ready for a 17-hour binge session..."

He suddenly seemed awake. "17 hours? What the heck is on this DVD of yours?"

Sarah held up the box. Her usual cheery demeanor had mostly faded. Rob read aloud.

"Gravity Falls, the complete series," he said, and then did a double-take. "Gravity Falls the complete series? You have this? Where'd you get it?"

"The Awesome Store."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Rob, recalling the VHS tape he had once purchased from the forsaken red van. "But why didn't you tell me? Why would you want to keep this information to yourself? That's-! that's-!"

"Calm down! It's because- ergh. This is gonna sound super skeevy, but it's because I know that after you see what's on there, you're gonna say something like-"

-

"You're telling me you want to mess with that guy? On purpose? That you think of this as some g-game?"

Rob's blood boiled. He wiped his eye, which was wet, probably from the 17 hours of television (interspersed with the occasional bad dream). It didn't help that he had gotten emotional once or twice.

"WHAT ON EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Before Sarah could respond, he had stumbled backwards and fallen unconscious once again.

[fentrashcat]

Tourettes Awareness Month, May 26th!

Kinda lost track of the days so just gonna stop counting them and just do the date instead 😅

Today I'm going to go over some of my pet peeves/frustrations that are related to my tics/TS, or people reacting to it. Some of these I've mentioned before but I'll try to include new ones as well, don't mind my bitter old man persona coming out lol.

⚠️Everyone who has TS or tic disorders will have different experiences, this is just mine

Dentists!

So I have had a lot of bad experiences with dentists, even before my tics were severe enough to be diagnosed and now its even worse. Bc I'm anxious for the dentist, my tics can actually get really bad in the days leading up to it and the day of. I'm also prone to shut downs with dental stuff, so it's almost a double whammy. Luckily my most recent experiences with dentists have been really positive, and they've been extremely patient with me. However when I get a bad dentist the experience pretty much back tracks all the progress I had been making with the good ones.

It can just be really hard to manage my tics during an appointment, and I'm more prone to tic attacks in the days leading up to said appointment, even if I know who I'm seeing is good. This is starting to pass now tho and I actually went back with the dentist on my own for the first time since I was 7 or so last month.

Sleep interrupting!

Being too tired to sleep is a pretty common occurrence for me, unfortunately. When I'm sleep deprived I get more tics than usual, especially in my legs. Usually my legs don't tic bc I sit in ways that make it difficult (criss cross, one leg under the other, on my knees, ect), but when I'm laying down to sleep, it's much harder to find a position that stops leg tics. If I can't stop them, I end up kicking myself over and over, usually right as I'm about to fall asleep so I kick and I'm wide awake again. Some nights it only happens for like 10min and then I can sleep, but other nights it'll be HOURS. On the longer nights I'll try to sleep with my legs crossed or sitting up criss cross, but that's really hard to do sometimes. Most of the times on those nights I just give up on sleeping all together. The days after I don't sleep, I'm more twitchy and prone to attacks, then I either am allowed to sleep that night or just pass out from exhaustion after an attack.

Pre-tic premonition!

Sometimes I'll know I'm about to tic, and I can see I'm going to hurt myself or I know I'm going to throw something and there is literally nothing I can do, I'm just stuck knowing until the tic hits unless I suppress it, which doesn't always works, usually causes recoil, and can HURT.

Thunder!

So I used to love thunderstorms, and find peace in them, but as my tics got more severe, my relationship with thunder changed. Rolling thunder is okay but booming thunder makes me tic like crazy, as in when it's frequent enough I will tic myself dizzy or give myself a migraine. I of course live in a thunderstorm heavy area 😅

BTW if you're into mediocre poetry and have a spare dollar or a Kindle unlimited account, I actually wrote about this in my book I Want To Love the Thunder under the name Fen Lotor only on Amazon

People!

I was going to get into this a lot but honestly the stories kinda deserve their own post, mainly bc it'd be long and people may want to skip it bc the stories could be triggering so I'll generalize here-

1. People making me tic on purpose (luckily a rare occurrence but a really fucking shitty one)

2. People staring (yes its strange, and I understand glancing at me but sometimes people just stare until my tics stop but if I know someone is staring I tic more from the anxiety)

3. Stereotypes (a given)

4. Asking me questions while I'm actively having a tic attack (99% of the time I'm super open about questions but people sometimes don't ask until I'm having a severe attack even if they've seen minor tics or know I'm tourettic)

5. Balloon decor (maybe I'm biased bc I haven't been somewhere w balloon decor since prom but it seems anytime balloons are used as decor there is at least one person intent on popping them)

6. Immediately panicking when I start ticcing (it's less frequent now w people who know me but as soon as people know my tics CAN be caused by something negative they seem to think they are ALWAYS caused that way, no matter what I say so they start panicking and asking what's wrong and won't take "nothing is wrong" as an answer which stresses me out and makes me tic more)

7. 4th of July (this makes me sound like a scrooge and a hypocrite bc I like fireworks. I also don't mind headphoning up and blocking it out for a bit, but for some reason people around me celebrate from 6pm to 3am, July 1st-July 7th, and it's not even dark until 8pm or later)

Okay ended up ranting a bit lol. Thank you for reading, and as always my asks are open if anyone is curious or has questions I'll answer the best I can 😊

Also adding my cooking with Tourette's tag if anyone is curious. I almost included some info on cooking here but it doesn't really bother me enough to be a pet peeve

[cuntystories]

CHAP (2) 𝑂ℎ, 𝑟𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ?

I can barely sleep at this point, everytime i have atleast managed to fall asleep— even for a second, I've been woken up by the nightmares that keep occurring. Everything that happened has made me so anxious, the fact that nobody believes me makes me even more frustrated, I know that it happened, but all the evidence, that I don't even have, makes me seem like a liar that is just attention deprived.

Why was I so mesmerized by Him before?

I feel terrified. The feeling of eyes on me made me want to tear my skin off. I can't even do my daily chores without The Man haunting my mind.

"Sir, we have done everything we can, but we can't proceed further without any proof."

They said.

"I'm sorry, sir, we understand you, but as said before— we can't make any moves without any evidence."

They said.

What more proof do they need?

What more do they want?

The police sent me to a psychiatrist incase of hallucinations. Could it all just be in my head? No. Definitely not. They're just trying to gaslight me because they know I'm right yet they lack the skill to investigate further.

I was woken up by the sudden movement, my eyes fluttering inresponse to the dim lights. I wonder how long had I slept, I thought. Was it already evening— as there seemed to be noone around here anymore? "Mr Elvis, you can come in now,"she said with a forced smile, leaving the door open after her. She was wearing a hideous white cap, a bright red cross on it, with a dress five inches too short, a red cross on it aswell. It seemed a little too stereotypical for a nurse, isn't she supposed to be a psychiatrist too? If I didn't know any better, I'd mistake her for someone in the acting industry.

The cabinet was unexpectedly big but empty. Big windows and some modern furniture in the corner with a few decorations, the colours were quite depressing. The opposite of an atmosphere that would be expected in a therapist's office. From the ceiling was falling a bright, almost blindening chandelier, very expensive looking if I had to say. The surroundings were making me even more depressed than i was before. Pretty ironic honestly. But i guess she's attractive enough to keep me entertained for the time being.

"Please take a seat," she said while typing in her computer, likely making notes of my behaviour. "I heard you were sent here on a note by the police, as you did make a pretty big deal out of it, is that right?"

"Ah....I was, they think that I lied to them," I paused momentarily,"...It's a little stupid anyways to send me to a psychiatrist over this, just because I don't have solid evidence, when I haven't even lied to them," I tried explaining, frustrated, while trying to stay still, feeling uneasy as I could feel her gaze on me, analyzing my body language.

The district that I live in is very widely known around the world for it's violent nature. It's not uncommon to come face to face with a criminal on the streets, which also makes the place quite affordable. That's the reason I still live here. But the criminal activity has been raising significantly in the last decade, which resulted in the police being very busy and not having time to deal with my 'bullshit' as they called it. That's why they send alot of people to the psychiatrists, to hope the problem just goes away. Of course you can always decline, but as I made.. a pretty big deal out of it, I didn't really have a choice.

I looked up from my lap, lifting my gaze as my eyes met hers. "I know that this might be hard for you, but you have no evidence of anything happening," she sighed in sympathy, flicking open a notebook containing some notes, "I have received some of your files aswell. I see that you have several part-time jobs. Do you think what happened could have been a result from you overworking yourself, perhaps you experienced hallucinations?," she questioned me, waiting patiently for an answer.

Her answer made me furious. Of course I know that it was true, why else would I have made such a big deal out of it, I thought. That's why I didn't wanna come here— talking about my feelings doesn't change the fact that I still have to pass through the alleyway repeatedly, still having to experience the feelings over and over again.

The more I thought about the question, the angrier I became. Isn't a professional supposed to know better than to straight up doubt their patients? This isn't working at all. I wouldn't be suprised if she happened to land all of her jobs by sleeping with her bosses, being too uncapable of anything else. That would even explain the uniform, I scoffed. "..Is that the only possible reason," I asked as I bit my tongue, trying not to let my attitude slip. "I'm sorry...I know that it must be hard for you, but unfortunately we can't do anything else besides diagnosing you with some pills that might help with your sleep deprivation, if the hallucinations are the case," she apologized profusely while staying calm. "Oh..uhm..I suppose we could try, then...As there doesn't seem to be any other solution." I was already desperate and there didn't seem much we could do. "That's great! I'll write you the prescription. I'm glad we already managed to come this far at our first session," she claimed happily as she typed away on her computer.

Oh...how much I wanted to bash her head in the computer at that moment.

[twofacedtrickery]

({visible to anons})

Lasho, Daina, Janus, it isn't sure right now, well, the Professor's partner, falls back onto the couch, too short for it, but it's what's available. She starts to immediately drift back off just as two things hit her at once.

"Professor?"

"Yes, dear?" He isn't looking at them, he's poring over several pages of documents, but he doesn't sound dismissive or disinterested.

"What are we?"

He pauses and straightens slightly, "As in our roles, or our relationship, or are you lost on species?" Another pause, furrowing his brow, "What did you do?"

"The second one, we never--"

"I believe we did. Surely, we must have. You're my partner, we're not counting whatever that apparent gambit was. I will admit, I don't have a specific memory of the conversation, but I doubt I would have arbitrarily started calling you my partner again without at least some discussion."

It nods, though he can't see it. "Professor?"

He can feel himself getting ever so slightly frustrated that his partner isn't trying to get more rest after running the gauntlet of whatever memories xe still has of xyr time in there. Still, he doesn't let any of that show when he responds, "What is it?"

"Why aren't you using the--um--the words."

He turns around here, as if looking at it is going to give him any new insight into what it's trying to convey. "I am using words. Can you please be more specific?"

"The...the nice...the nice..."

He catches their meaning before they finish stammering and stuttering over themself. So unlike themself, he notes, they'd always been effusive and willing to put words to what they liked from him. "I'm not sure, honestly. I'm probably just tired. I still love you, if that's the concern. I do have things I want to talk to you about, but you look like you haven't slept properly in far longer than you claim, or if you have been, that sleep has not been very good to you. Those things will still be there later. Go to sleep."

"Not tired anymore," she lies, feebly. "I've been sleeping, don't worry."

"You said that when you started claiming you were going to get in a physical fight with the Engineer. An Engineer who, might I add, you have no history with at all. An Engineer that you would feel awful about hitting at all."

"...I was mad."

"I had gathered that much. Why at them, though?"

"It took them too long."

"Are you implying that, because the Engineer in place back in January didn't manage to speak on certain things earlier, you are mad at the current Engineer, after three others have been in the role since her? Are you seeing why I think you are far more sleep deprived than you realize?"

"I guess. Why did it--"

"You know that neither I nor they had any control over that. You know I did what I could. You're a brilliant mind, but you're making several decisions that you aren't putting the requisite thought into. I don't know how I can convince you to slow down and breathe a little, but I need you to do that."

"...yes, sir."

"I know that's a reflexive habit, and I normally don't mind either way, but given your present state, I would immensely prefer you not refer to me that way."

"But--"

"Let me phrase it more directly: I do not want you to speak to me using terms of address I am almost certain you had to use for entities who cared far less for you."

"I'm not. I just--"

"This is not a debate, dear heart. Go back to sleep. We'll figure out better arrangements when you aren't feeling this way."

She instantly relaxes at the older pet name, as if two words are enough to paper over every gaping wound it had tore into trying to find answers. "Okay. Can I ask one last thing?"

"You may."

"Why did your nice words change so much?"

He turns back to his work to think about it before he answers, "I suppose a lot of things had to change. I know you don't always like large changes that you aren't at least partially in control of, and for that, I apologize. I wanted you to feel more grounded in that this would mark a change without needing to reiterate it in those terms."

Xe seems satisfied with this answer and rolls to face the couch instead of him, wondering what new thoughts xe might wake up with. "Have fun at work."

He shakes his head in slight amusement, "Sleep well. I will wake you when it's time to move."

[justarandomgirly]

VFX artists are speaking out against Marvel, with many refusing to ever work with the entertainment giant again. This comes as artists share accounts of unworkable deadlines and immense pressure leading to stress and unsatisfactory final products. Many have requested to never be put on a Marvel project again, saying that the studio has the "worst VFX management out there".

These allegations have been made on the subreddit r/VFX, with artists across the industry sharing their negative experiences with the company. Almost no one in the subreddit has a good word to say about the employer, with many saying that the money and star-power aren't worth tolerating such poor working conditions.

In a thread titled "I am quite frankly sick and tired of working on Marvel shows", Reddit user Independent-Ad419 expressed their frustration with the studio. "Marvel has probably the worst methodology of production and VFX management out there", they write. "They can never fix the look for the show before more than half the allocated time for the show is over. The artists working on Marvel shows are definitely not paid equivalent to the amount of work they put in."

Others in the replies are quick to agree. "On Thor they ask for a complete mini-sequence 2 or 3 weeks before deadline", says samvfx2015.

Mickeym00m00's account is much the same: "I request to not work on [Marvel] movies and TV shows. Unfortunately, they're becoming our biggest client. They expect a smorgasbord of options so they can change their mind three more times."

Those who haven't been able to avoid working with Marvel confirm that it hasn't improved in recent years. "I'm on almost three years straight of Marvel. Welcome to the seventh level of hell". Another user shares that their time at Marvel has been a "black hole of sleep deprivation and eating bad".

Another thread from three months ago contains even more damning accounts of what it's like to work with Marvel. These allegations were shared when another VFX artist was disappointed to lose out on the opportunity to work with Marvel - something their industry peers reassured them was no great loss.

"I am on my third Marvel project in a row and literally just woke up 5:30 am on a Saturday with stress going 'I don't want to do this anymore'", writes RANDVR. "It's 6 am now and I am making a reel to apply someplace that has projects other than Marvel because I can't do this anymore.

Mickeym00m00 shared a particularly shocking account of their time working with the studio: "Marvel has seen grown men punch walls and throw monitors from stress. I broke down a couple of times and have seen the strain it can put on marriages. But hey the $$ was fantastic. Fuck Marvel as a client, the credit name is not fucking worth it."

Raistlinuk agrees: "It took me over six months to recover from WandaVision's crunch. It’s not worth it. Not when there’s better run projects that look just as good out there."

Given how recent some of these projects are, it's unlikely that there's been a dramatic change in the past few months. It remains to be seen if Marvel addresses these criticisms as they become widely shared online.

Btw

It explains ridicilous CGI in Loki or Love and thunder

Marvel used to have 1 movie a year or two.

Now its 2-3 movies a year and several shows. Quantity over quality. No wonder cgi workers cant keep up.

[enchantestuff]

cursed crown (1) - pierre gasly

in which sneaking into Pierres kingdom only means one thing

warnings: smut, royalty au so there's that, language maybe?

please please please let me know what you all think

“Are you alright?” you heard Pierre quietly call from the window above you. You had just arrived at his castle and were currently trying to climb up to the kitchen window, admittedly with no help from the prince himself.

“A little bit of help would be nice, Your Highness” you scoffed. Pierre laughed at the title you gave him but obliged nevertheless, leaning out of the window and stretching his arm downwards, waving it in front of your face teasingly. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed hold of it, “I thought I was supposed to be the mean one out of the two of us” you muttered when you finally climbed through the window and planted your feet firmly on the ground. You brushed some dirt away from your coat before finally meeting his beautiful blue eyes.

“Perhaps you're rubbing off on me, my lady,” Pierre grinned. He grabbed hold of your hand and quickly led the two of you out of the grand kitchen, carefully glancing across corridors and hiding behind walls as maids and a variety of guests walked through his pristine palace. You thought you would have been used to sneaking around his home by now, you had been doing it for months after all, but the trek from the kitchen to his bedroom was never an easy one. Even though Pierre had repeatedly confessed to you that this certain day of each month was the quietest, there still seemed to be countless people roaming the halls.

“I do quite hope you haven't acquired only my bad traits, Pierre,” you whispered, quickly glancing behind you as you ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. This was the riskiest part of your journey. The stairs that led up to his bedroom were open for anyone and everyone to see, whether it be from the inside balcony above or from the spacious hall below.

Pierre laughed at your comment, quickly shutting his bedroom door behind him and twisting his body around to face you. He placed his hands on your hips as he led you further into his bedroom. “Are you insinuating that you have any desirable qualities, my love?” he joked, his beloved silly grin quickly making its way onto his face causing your own smile to erupt on your own. These moments with Pierre were the only times you could truly be yourself and they didn't come around too often.

“Well of course, your highness” you smiled, snaking your hands up his arms to rest on his biceps. Pierre jokingly cocked an eyebrow at you, his hands trailing lower down your body, unable to keep them still for a second.

“And why is that?” he pondered, frowning slightly as you pulled away from him to take off your coat and climb onto his freshly made bed, getting comfortable in the silk sheets before peeking at him through your lashes.

“Because you crawl into bed with me every month” you teased. Your eyes trailed across his bedside table, smiling at the familiarity of it. Since the beginning of your late night rendezvous the contents of the table had never changed. There always lay a map of Othain, a journal which he had forbidden you to read and his beloved crown, the one that always lay atop of his head except during these moments with you and of course, when he was sleeping.

You carefully picked the crown up from where it lay and placed it onto your own head. It was much lighter than your own, less jewels scattered around it. It was a breath of fresh air. You didn't feel suffocated wearing it. Didn't feel weighed down by what it symbolized. “Now as your queen, i command you to come over here, for i have been deprived of your touch for far too long”

Pierre chuckled at your words, his steps towards his bed were deliberately slow. He knew how to tease you and from the glare you sent his way, he knew it was working. He crawled onto his bed, positioning himself on top of you and adjusting his crown on your head. “Well then, your majesty, I suspect that I am obliged to prove myself to you?” he jokingly questioned.

“Those are quite possibly the smartest words to leave your lips, my love” you commented. Unable to contain yourself any further, you pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips after weeks apart from one another. Pierre didn't hesitate to kiss you back, but the short lasting kiss was not what you expected and a frown appeared on your face the minute he pulled away. “As much as I love your teasing, Pierre, I would really prefer it if you didn’t indulge in those habits right now.”

He smirked evilly as he trailed one of his hands down your thigh. “Is her majesty upset with my actions?” he pondered, his smirk not once leaving his face as he crawled further down the bed. Kisses were scattered across your thigh and the silent frustrated sigh that left your lips was a good enough answer for Pierre.

“Her majesty thinks she should get what she wants,” you selfishly spoke. You pulled lightly on Pierre's hair, a desperate attempt to get you closer to him again, to remove his lips from your thigh and place them on your own instead. Was that really too much to ask for?

“Well, I personally think she needs to stop being a brat and shut up for once in her life.” Your lips parted to scold him for his language but instead of rude comments, moans of pure delight seemed to leave your lips as Pierre attached his mouth to your core. He knew how to shut you up and for once in your life, you weren't complaining.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him closer into you as your head fell back in pleasure. Pierres crown slipped to fall beside you on the pillow but you paid it no mind as you felt pleasure pass through you like lightning bolts. “Oh Pierre,” you moaned as he lapped at your core similar to a man deprived of a meal. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Pierres fingers dug into your thighs as he moved to suck on your clit. “Shit,” you cursed as you felt the familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. After spending so much time with you and your body, Pierre believed he knew you inside out, which as a result meant he knew exactly when you were going to cum. He felt oh so evil as he brought you to your peak, only to pull away from you at the last second. The frown on your face was enough to make him feel slightly guilty. Only slightly.

“I am going to declare war on you, Pierre Gasly, '' you seethed, completely unsatisfied and now purely annoyed. You hadn’t trekked all the way to his kingdom in the middle of the night just for him to bring you towards the most amazing pleasure imaginable and leave you high and dry at the last moment.

“I'm afraid you don't have the power to do that yet, love” he grinned. He didn't give you any time to come up with a witty reply as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips before undressing himself in front of you.

“Is this your form of apologizing?” because well, it was working, there's just something about a handsome prince undressing before your very eyes that got you going.

“I was planning on making you cum over and over again, love” he spoke, stretching his arm out beside your head in order to place his crown back on your head. You looked so powerful with it on. You always looked powerful, but his own crown laying in your hair brought freshness to you that he didn't know was possible. It made his chest lighten and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It made him feel five again. “But if this is enough im happy to stop here and continue another time.”

You scoffed at him. Keeping one hand on the crown, you trailed your hand down your body, gripping onto your breast, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so, before moving further down your body. You ran your fingers up and down your folds, spreading the wetness gathered there before inserting one inside. “If you cant pleasure me, i guess i'll have to do it myself,” you muttered, knowing deep down that there was nothing Pierre hated more than you pleasuring yourself in front of him. It felt like a betrayal. Like he wasn’t enough.

Your plan succeeded spectacularly, as they always did, and in no time he was positioned on top of you, his tip teasingly brushing against your entrance. He dragged your hand away from your core and held it above your head. His grip was almost death-like and you found yourself relishing in the pain it brought.

“Don't doubt me for a second, love” Pierre grunted in your ear as he tapped his cock against your clit. You bit your lip at the sensation but allowed him to continue with his scolding. You knew there was nothing but love behind his words and so, to no surprise, you got more excited with each word that fell from his lips. “I think you know first hand the kind of pleasure I can bring you.” You gasped at the feeling of him filling you up. After nearly two weeks of not seeing each other, the sensation of him inside you was better than you had remembered. You transferred his crown onto his own head, an indication that whatever power you had over him was now practically non-existent. You were truly at his mercy.

“I'm sure you haven't forgotten the many times i've made you scream, love. I can do it again if your memory has begun to fail you.”

Pierre was always one to live up to his word. His sharp deliberate thrusts made your eyes roll back and several moans escaped your lips. You haven't been with any other man except Pierre and you would never need to. He knew your body more than you did and the delight that he brought you was extraordinary.

The squeezing of your wrist made your eyes snap open. His beautiful eyes were already watching you withering underneath him. A look of pure adoration plastered on his face as his hips continued to move at a rapid pace. “Shit, Pierre”

Pierre shook his head at you, a lopsided grin replacing his usual smirk as he leaned down to kiss your chest. “That's not what i want to hear, love.”

He was playing your own game against you, but you were too full of gratification to care. “P- please, your highness.” A blush crept up your cheeks at the seriousness of your own voice. You were no longer mocking him with his title but moaning it in pure delight.

Pierre cocked his head at you, “Please what, love? Use your words.” Tingles made its way onto your skin from kisses he scattered over your neck, goosebumps trailing in their wake. You didn't even process your words until they were out in the open.

“Fuck me like your life depends on it.”

And he did. His thrusts became unbelievably precise, his free hand roamed your body, circling and squeezing all the right places while his other intertwined with yours. You knew there would be marks left from where he had held on too hard, but you didn't see it as a mark of pain rather than an indication of what had gone on between you two.  A reminder for the next long two weeks ahead of you.

The clenching of your walls for the second time that night indicated to Pierre you were close. “Hold on, love” he ushered. Something that was incredibly hard to do when he was pounding into you like an animal and circling your clit like he was under a spell.

“I - i can't,” you sobbed. You wanted so bad to release the knot in your stomach, to catch the orgasm you had been chasing all night.

“I said hold it.” He was in control, that much was clear, but you could only hold on for so long until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

“P - pierre, fuck!”

“That's it, love,” Pierre groaned in your ear, “Hold on for just another moment, such a good girl for me.” Your eyes rolled back and your gripped onto his hand for dear life. “Don't know what id do without you.” Your heart skipped a beat and tears began welling in your eyes. “Look so pretty right now, taking me like the queen you'll soon be.” Your breath increased and a whimper left your lips.

“You can let go now, love.”

Nights with Pierre were often sleepless. You had plenty of time to sleep when you were alone in your bedroom. Two nights each month you spent facing the beautiful prince, talking about utter nonsense until your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard and your eyes drooped from being awake for too long.

“Im being sent somewhere tomorrow,” you whispered into the darkness, playing with his hands as you dared to break the silence around you. You could feel him tense up next to you, obviously assuming the worst and imagining an attack his own kingdom. His own people. “Not you, “ you reassured, your heart fluttering when he immediately relaxed beside you, “Some rebels gathering together behind the mountains, I’ll have to leave early in the morning.”

It hurt you to cut your already short time with Pierre even shorter, but duty called and once your father demands your presence on a mission, you had no choice than show up.

“I hate the fact you have to go out on these stupid battles,” Pierre confided. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night, wanting to imprint the image of your face in his mind until the next time he saw you again.

“Well, unlike you, I have to prove myself to everyone.” It was the harsh reality of your world, one that you were reminded of at each public event you attended. You were a woman and for that reason, deemed unworthy of ruling.

“You wouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone if you ran away with me,” he reminded. Without fail, every time you met up with Pierre, he brought up the idea of running far away to another kingdom, one where the two of you could live like commoners and not have to worry about the state of a kingdom nor dooming battles. It was a daydream that both frightened and enticed you in the best ways possible.

“You really think you can survive without all this luxury?” you pondered, your hands immediately running up and down the silk sheets on top of you as your eyes floated across the numerous jewels and paintings scattered around his room.

“With you next to me?” he asked. His hand came to rest on your jaw, moving your face closer to his own as he spoke his true desires out loud, “Of course.”

[vesperina]

For the first time I'm actually regretting staying up late to read

And I hope this doesn't appear in the BSD tag bc it's basically spam, but, in a way, this is kinda related??? I mean, I somehow stumbled upon a translation of Nakajima's Chameleon Diary (which is referenced in-universe as a blink and you miss it line in a sort of comic relief moment). And I thought I could read it before going to sleep...

And BOY...

Like,,,, It's not like I expected a light hearted story. Nakajima-sensei's stories are usually tragic and harsh. But this one... This is so... This just hits different it's...

Like, I just thought that I'd read,,, like, idk, about a man who sees the chameleon changing colors and goes on something like a monologue about the nature of the self, but all I got was existential dread at 3 a.m. what the—

There is an unnecessarily long ramble product of sleep deprivation under the cut.

And I mean, the story hits different to begin with bc, when you look at the bigger picture, it just stands out. I haven't read the totality of Nakajima-sense's work, but if there's one thing I do know is that there are distant regarding the setting. Like,,, most of his stories are set during distant, ancient times and include supernatural elements... but chameleon diary is so mundane it feels uncanny????

it's not about a man from the Tang dynasty that turned into a tiger nor Assyrian scholar who is convinced that words have spirit nor a Persian soldier who founds out about his past life by accident

it's about a high school teacher that just so happens to take care of a chameleon. and uses the days he spends with the chameleon as a framing device to let us into his thoughts... and his thoughts are what make me say the story is so depressing.

bc his thoughts are about how he decided to keep the chameleon bc it makes him feel animated and lively and he hasn't felt like that in years, how he dwells on the past so much and longs for something he lost, how unhappy he is with his current life, how he sees himself as "deficient on several abilities", how he feels his life has been meaningless up until now, how he feels like he wasted his own potential, how he suppressed his spirit for his health's sake but to no avail and that made him feel such frustration

in short, there was so much regret and self doubt and anxiety and uncertainty and some self loathing and sleep deprivation...

but what it really makes it hit the most different and the hardest is that this short story is AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL. so uncharacteristically autobiographical. so not only unlike his other works that feel distant bc of their setting this story is mundane, but this is HIM.

Atsushi Nakajima himself. Opening up to us readers. Letting us go inside his mind. He, who stands out among his contemporaries for not writting I-novels and writing instead of distant times. don't mind me im sleep deprived basically im surprised bc i didn't knew about this work and i didn't knew what it was about and also reading it at this time made really feel the existential dread.

[sso-ironfire]

SSO Alonso X Reader/MC

I made a little story to share :) I hope people enjoy it. It is actually based on me being extremely frustrated while trying to find all of Catherine’s memories in Mistfall. I used they/them pronouns for your horse just bc idk what you all like imagine (ik in game your starter/soul horse is “supposed” to be male). I did female pronouns for the MC to sort of fit the SSO story line

Alonso raced to the site of the incident. The rain slicked the trails. He made sure to keep extra care in the path he chose as he guided Mardy to the emergency. It was hard to see. The pouring rain and wind blinded him as he picked up speed. His ranger uniform was soaked in the short time he had been outside. But he pressed on. This is what he was trained for, why he joined the Jorvik Rangers. It thrilled him each time he raced to an emergency. What he saw on his arrival to the scene was not what he expected. Two rangers desperately held onto a crying horse as it bucked, trying to escaped their ropes. He could instantly recognize the horse. It was her horse. (Mc)'s horse. Two more rangers were preparing climbing gear at the base of the cliff. He looked up. (MC) was barely hanging onto a dirt ledge that was crumbling fast under the intense rain and added weight.

"(MC)!" He yelled out over the roar of the storm. She looked toward him with fearful eyes, before turning quickly attempting to climb further up the cliff. The rangers began to panic, shouting at her not to move. The ledge below her began to crumble more.

Alonso jumped off Mardy and ran to the aide of the climbing team.

"No! No, please! I need to get the butterfly!" She pleaded as she furiously tried to scramble to the top.

There was no butterfly. What was she talking about?

"Hang in there!" Alonso called, hoping her panic was the cause of this delusion.

The platform below her gave way, sliding along as rock, roots, and mud tumbled to the ground below. She let out a shriek as her body was taken over by gravity. Alonso had just gotten off the ground, able to angle himself just enough to catch her. He clutched her to his chest turning his back to the cliff-face, shielding both of them from an onslaught of rocks and mud that came falling with her. She was shaking. Her entire body violently quaking. He looked back up to the top of the cliff. She was dreadfully close to a serious injury and, if she fell the wrong way, possibly death.  It was good the Rangers were able to get to her so quickly. Alonso dreaded the thought of what might happen if they were even a minute late.

(MC) still shook as he was brought down. She clutched onto his uniform with white knuckles, barely able to catch her breath. (Horse) had calmed down once they saw that their rider was being brought down safely but still tried to break free from the grips of the other rangers.

"Let them go! They just wants to know she's alright." He told them once he had safely returned to the ground. They let go of the frantic horse. Once they were near enough to smell their rider it seemed to calm them down. They were happy (MC) was safe. Alonso reached out to gentle pat them on the nose.

"Don't worry. We're gonna take good care of her."

It was only a few hours later when (MC) had woken up from her exhaustion induced sleep. There was only one thing on Alonso's mind as he tended to her: what on earth was so important that she would risk her life? A butterfly, she said something about a butterfly. Should he bring it up? Would it cause her to go into a panic again?

"Mmm.. hnng..." She stirred lightly. Alonso looked over towards her, preparing a bowl of warm chicken noodle soup. He had never noticed her eyes before, but they seemingly were enhanced by the light of the fire. It was a strange thought that popped into his mind. Surely, the condition of the cuts on her knees and arms would be more important. The observation of the color of her eyes even caused his face to flush, he felt his ears and cheeks warm.

"W-where am I?" She spoke with a very strained voice.

"We're at the Jorvik Rangers Station in Mistfall. I thought it would be a nice place to recover."

"Recover?" She looked around rather frantically.

"Well...yes. You appear to be very sleep deprived,  I have not been able to tell if you've attained any severe injuries, and you might have caught a cold out in the rain like that. Plus, Lionheart's foot is pretty badly sprained. We had the vet from Dundull come and look at him. He needs a few days of rest." She looked down, but he saw the glossiness in her eyes. She clearly felt guilty. The situation rendering her horse injured and herself under observed recovery.

"This is all my fault. I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice cracking as she began to sob into the blanket held tightly in her hands. Normally, he was good at comforting people. Trail riders and rangers complemented him on his calming demeanor that helped them through scary situations. But why couldn't he comfort her the same way. He wanted to say something, but he just couldn't think of what. Instead he interrupted her crying with the bowl of soup and sat at the end of the bed. She ate it quietly, hiccupping every now and then as she tried to calm down.

"Why were you out in a storm like that?" He watched her closely, waiting for her answer. He probably shouldn't have asked but he could tell there was something more to the situation.

"Umm...well...It's hard to explain." She muttered.

"You said something about a butterfly." Her face dropped as he said that.

"I-I did?" He nodded at her.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I seem rude. I just wanted to try to understand. You had me- us- very worried." She bit her lip, thinking.

"It's complicated..." She muttered, taking another spoonful of soup. Alonso didn't have a response to that. He didn't really know what to say. As Alonso pondered what he should say to comfort the poor girl, she spoke up and surprised him.

"I really appreciate you saving me," She glanced up at him with those eyes. His face flushed under her gaze. "I should clarify. It is complicated. It is something very important to understanding my role in this world, but it isn't something I can openly share with others. I'm thankful that you were there for me when I, quite literally, fell."

Alonso swallowed the lump in his throat. The concerns she seemed to be facing appeared to be stress beyond her years. Alonso found himself wanting to help her with that burden.

"I can tell that whatever is going on is very important to you. It is healthy to share that weight. But if you just need someone to catch you, I'd be happy to do that for you." Alonso gave her the best smile he could, his cheeks still burning from her compliment.

She managed a small but genuine smile in return.

[fnafslinky]

Fazbear Frights 1-9 review.

Into The Pit:

Slow and meandering during the first half but picks up speed after Spring Bonnie shows up. Good message and good idea, but the execution could be better. 6/10

To Be Beautiful:

This story is so full of fluff, you can cut out like 60% of it and lose nothing. I know it's going for a fairy tale thing with the repetition and all, but fairy tales do that because it's made for children. Repetition is to train a child's brain to remember better. These books are aimed at teenagers, so this narrative device is not needed. On top of that, it has unfortunate implications of "Not like other girls" memes that we don't need to revisit. Only saved by its creepy af ending. 3/10

Count The Ways:

Legitimately my favorite story out of FNAF and one of my favorites of all time. It fixed the previous story's Not Like Other Girls problems by having the goth main character hate the pretty blonde and being called out for not even knowing her and being shallow. It is actually surprising to have these two stories be back to back.

The narrative device of switching back and forth between the MC facing her death and how she got up to that point means it keeps your interest throughout that the previous two stories had problems with. It makes for great drama and tension.

The main reason I love this story in particular is because of this exchange near the end:

“Silly Millie, for someone who doesn’t want to die you sure spent a lot of time talking about it,” the voice surrounding her said. “But that’s the way of things, isn’t it? Talk is always easier than action.”

“I think,” Millie said, sniffling, “that when I said I wanted to die, what I really wanted was to escape. I didn’t want death. I just wanted my life to be different.”

“Oh, but that really takes action, doesn’t it?”

And, if I can be real for a minute: I feel like that kinda changed my life. Or very least, my point of view.

As someone who has made attempts on his life before and frequently battles depression- It made my problems so much less overwhelming. Of course I didn't want to die. I wanted my life my life to improve. And now whenever the thought of suicide passes through my head, I just remember this phrase and it helps me keep it together and calm down.

And also F.Freddy's follow up with having to work for happiness is spot on too. Misery is comfortable, that's why so many people prefer it. Happiness takes effort. 10/10

Fetch:

I'm in the minority for not caring for this one. I felt like there wasn't any direction or character arc, I didn't find Fetch particularly scary or interesting, and the MC makes a lot of dumb decisions in it.

That being said, I love how it jumps right into the action instead of taking awhile to get to it like the other stories did. The stories tend to play out like a different book and then FNAF characters are slapped in at the end. This one gets right to it and makes it integral to its plot. 6/10

Lonely Freddy:

Another one I really love. The Frights series has a good traction with its tragedies and this one is no exception. I really connected with the feeling of being pitted against your siblings, usually by accident and circumstance with your parents. Particularly this line:

“Maybe you’ve made them what they are,” Aunt Gigi said, pausing for a moment before adding: “Hazel’s the easy one. Alec is the hard one. It’s like you put them on their own little islands.”

I wasn't Alec, but Hazel in this situation. And it made me realize what my sibling went through because of it.

And this is another story where Freddy's is more integral to the plot too, and one of the few times it's not already abandoned.

I really like how well done Alec's back and forth he had with himself whether to befriend his sister or not. It's a believable character arc when he realizes his mistake at the end unlike another story that we'll get to.

And the fact they made a God damn teddy bear legitimately creepy is a mastery of horror writing that I can only ever hope to strive for. Definitely the scariest in Frights 2. 9/10

Out Of Stock:

I agree with Dawko that this one feels best to make a 30 minute special out of. It feels like a Halloween special or creepypasta you would watch/read as a preteen. Old enough to want to explore more mature stuff, but young enough to still have more cartoony stuff be familiar. And I mean that as 100% a positive.

I also like how this one is a bit more comedy based. Like the scene where the MC gets thrown across the room after electrocuting himself and his friends dont even notice. I can picture that bit so clearly.

The climax is the best part of having a dire game of Red Light, Green Light with the Plushtrap Chaser. It's very energized and exciting that the other stories don't have as often because the subject matter doesn't lend itself to it.

The trend in these stories of kids learning to appreciate their parents, and they're parents realizing they have to sacrifice some stuff to make their child happy is very sweet. And it's no different here. 8/10

1:35 AM

What I like about this series is that you never know where its gonna go from story to story. I though for certain this story was about how the doll was gonna have an evil spirit possessing it.

But no, what actually happened is that it's never made clear if the MC is losing her mind, being haunted, or just seeing stuff because she's sleep deprived. That ambiguity makes the book a lot creepier and sadder because you don't know how this poor woman should be helped. And it ends without any clarification. That's great and a perfect idea for horror story.

That being said, Scott's writing quirks (and it's definitely Scott doing it, I can tell) of front loading info, constantly stopping the flow to have backstory and over explaining things that don't need makes it frustrating to read after several books of it. And we're not done with that either. 9/10

Room For One More:

I skipped over all the dream sequences because it adds nothing to the story. Its great you remember Sister Location, but it feels like you don't trust your audience to read a FNAF story if there isn't animatronics every couple pages. And honestly? Understandable.

I do know based on my own FNAF comic, pages featuring humans is a lot less popular than the ones featuring animatronics. And I get it, you're a bunch of furries it's more interesting to visualize. And you can go in the opposite direction and have very little FNAF stuff when they're needs to be more. The New Kid doesn't even bring it up til the last third.

But I digress. The strongest qualities in Room For One More is three points.

The location is very vividly described. The underground security office with steel walls, the radiation disposals, the musky scent. It paints a clear and unique picture.

The main character's fallen arc of self care and distrust of others is a well done cautionary tale. It goes hand in hand with the speech before of having to work for happiness, and the difficulties there are from even trying. But you still need to do it.

The body horror is not as visually disgusting as it could've been, and more conceptually horrifying. But if you have a fear of bugs in your skin or crawling in your mouth, prepare for something so much worse! And no, that's not a spoiler, it's pretty obvious where its going from the beginning. 7/10

The New Kid:

This one was disappointing. This is not the way to do a tragedy, because I don't care about the MC.

Throughout the entire story, the main character has literal sociopath tendencies. He is controlling of other people, he doesn't have any empathy, he sees other people as tools to use, he kills a bird and doesn't care- So at the end when he accidentally kills someone, I don't believe him feeling bad about it. And I sure as shit don't care about his death after him leaving his victim to die, while he was still breathing, and not coming back for a week.

Also the twist at the end makes no God damn sense and I'm not even gonna dignify it.

A better tragedy would've been his friend, Mick, getting into trouble for the murder after refusing to ever stand up to the MC. Or even the MC being betrayed by him last minute for him to learn how his shit behavior really screwed him over. But the end result ended up being an unsatisfying mess. 2/10

I'll review the 4th's books with 5 and 6, since I'm sticking with a three at a time theme and because I haven't read 4 yet.

[bunnyhani]

A Little Insomniac

Pairing: (Platonic!) Seo Changbin x Bang Chan. (Also Platonic! Stray Kids x Seo Changbin on the side.)

Genre: Fluff and angst. (It seems like I don’t write anything else.. xD)

Warnings: Not really? Some language..? Insomnia..

Summary: Changbin has never self-proclaimed himself as someone who suffers from insomnia. Sure, there were sometimes nights when he couldn't fall asleep easily, but he always did in the end and successfully slept through the night. Until he didn't.

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Changbin was tired. The comeback was so near and he felt drained. Of course making music was fun and all that jazz, but so was sleeping. He felt like he was a walking corpse and so were others, so he wasn't a special snowflake. Then there were Chan and Jisung, who were on a entirely different scale of tiredness. They were exhausted, but somehow they kept going. They might have been more irritated than usual, but they still held onto their beautiful smiles and interacted with the members, helping them out and doing other activities. Of course, Changbin did too, but he felt like he just... Wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer. He always looked forward to getting to his bed, when all the lights were off and the dorms were dark, tiptoeing to their rooms along with the rest of 3racha. Sometimes the morning sun was peeking it's light through the window blinds and Changbin merely glared at the window then, always shutting the blinds more tighter. The sunlight just reminded him how little rest he was going to get and how unproductive he was (he wasn't but that's how he felt like).

Changbin collapsed onto his bunk bed, slightly shaking it but thankfully, Hyunjin wasn't bothered, if the boy's snoring was anything to go by. He whispered his good night to Jisung who just grumbled something similar in return, before falling asleep. Changbin just listened to the room, which was now filled with other people's calm breathing. It was kind of creepy thinking about it, since he was actually just listening to people breathe when they slept, but Changbin really couldn't do anything else. He also found comfort in it, it reminded him that he was never truly alone. While on some days he was annoyed by this fact, but during nights, he was just glad. It was kind of like unintentional ASMR. Changbin tiredly chuckled at himself, finally letting the sleep invade his mind and push everything else aside, and lay out its thick fog. The fog clouded his mind, he closed his eyes and before he knew it, he was pulled into the dreamland.

Changbin suddenly opened his eyes. His mind was messy from sleep and he had hard time grasping what was going on. He sat upright, hands shaking and he could feel his t-shirt sticking uncomfortably against his skin because of the sweat. He felt a little breathless and his heart was racing. Changbin put his hand over his heart, glancing down at his chest, even though he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. As he realized that he couldn’t see, it set an alarm off in his head. He was going into panic mode and he needed to do something about this before it escalated. He felt around the bed for his phone and grasped it tightly, when he did. He started looking through his photo albums, where he knew that there was a gif that helped him breathe. It was literally like gif of a box inflating and deflating, back and forth and there was a text underneath that was timed with the box’s moves. It instructed him to breathe, kind of like copying the box’s movements. It usually helped when he wasn’t too panicked. Right now, he wasn’t and he started breathing more regularly. When his heart rate had slowed down and he felt calm, he just sat there, hunched over. What the hell was that? He didn’t remember having a nightmare that would have caused him to wake up. Now that he really thought about it, he couldn’t find a single reason that why did he wake up. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. He glanced at the clock on his phone. 4am. Changbin was so tired but so frustrated that he wanted to sleep and simultaneously scream. He settled for huffing loudly and more or less, slammed himself down onto the mattress that thankfully softened the impact. Not that Changbin actually cared at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. So he waited for sleep to come and take him again.

Changbin listened as Hyunjin’s alarm started ringing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. There were several groans and he could hear Jisung getting down from his bunk bed to go and slam Hyunjin’s alarm off before anyone else would go and smash the thing into tiny pieces. Changbin didn’t get up, he had no motivation or energy to face the day just yet, so he didn’t move. He had been going in and out of sleep most of the night, which annoyed him to no end. When the room started getting alive, only then did he force himself out of the bed. He climbed down and breathed deeply through his nose. He changed out of his pyjamas into a hoodie and sweats. Changbin could already feel the huge bedhead that he had from tossing and turning most of the night, but he wasn’t in the mood for dealing with it, so he just put on a beanie to cover it. Not that it really mattered, since all the members looked a little disheveled in the morning. Changbin didn’t really feel hungry, but still ate so nobody would get concerned over nothing. So what if he had one sleepless night? It’s not like he was a baby and couldn’t deal with it, so he didn’t see a reason to talk about it either. It was just one night, right? It was not like it was going to be a regular occurence.

The day went on it’s normal tracks, they practiced, 3racha worked on their songs and they ate. There were some messing around from the maknae line, but that was to be expected. As they had a 15 minute break from dancing, he slumped against the cold mirror of the practice room. Miroh was playing in the background, the members were sprawled across the floor and some were drinking water and conversing with each other. Changbin closed his eyes, it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he just rested his eyes a bit.

Someone shook Changbin’s shoulder gently and patted his cheek in attempt to wake him up. Changbin opened his heavy eyelids and came face to face with Chan. Chan was looking tired, but still fond.

“Come on, Bin. The break is over”, the leader said while still stroking his cheek. Changbin, still dazed, nodded tiredly but still leaned into Chan’s touch. He started falling asleep again because of the continuous movement against his cheek, but he was snapped back to reality when Chan moved his hand away. He whined at the loss of comfort, usually he wouldn’t have done it or even let Chan pet him like a dog, but he was sleep deprived so who could blame him. Although Chan was smiling, he could see the older’s eyes twinkling with worry.

“Are you okay?” Chan asked, bringing his hand back to Changbin, but this time feeling his forehead. When Changbin’s mind caught up on what Chan was doing, he lazily slapped the hand away.

“I’m not sick, hyung. I’m fine. Just a little tired”, he grumbled and forced himself to get up from the cold floor.

“If you say so”, Chan said, still keeping an eye on him. They continued dancing until they were done with the session. By that time, Changbin couldn’t even describe how he felt at that moment. He still went on with his day, joking around with others, although he was more quiet than usual. Nobody seemed to notice and if they did, they didn’t say anything. It wasn’t unheard of that sometimes each of them had trouble with sleeping sometimes, for some reason Chan still worried. Maybe it was him being just overprotective, but he did.

3racha were cooped up in the studio, still fixing some tracks and going through lyrics to see if there was anything to improve. Changbin busied himself with reading the lyrics and found himself nodding off once in a while. Jisung was pretty much in the same condition, it was quite hilarious to see how the younger’s head lolled side to side occasionally. If only he knew that he looked exactly the same. Chan just watched at the duo who were more or less coming in and out of sleep. He shook his head, but let them fall asleep. By the looks of it, they both needed it. Slowly but surely, the two younger ones did fall asleep.

Changbin jolted awake again, slamming his knee against the desk in the process. He hissed in pain and rubbed his knee with a wince. Chan had just been glancing at the two, just make sure that neither one of them were falling from their chairs or anything else. He had witnessed how Changbin had just jolted awake, from the peaceful sleep.

“Oh my God, Bin, are you okay?” he asked, moving quickly to the rapper's side. Changbin just groaned in answer and rubbed his knee.

“Fuck, yeah, I'm fine”, he replied, hissing out the curse word.

“Was it a nightmare that woke you up? You just kind of… Jumped awake and looked distressed”, Chan continued, ignoring Chanbin’s cursing since he was clearly in pain.

“Might have been because I slammed my knee kinda hard against the damn table”, Changbin retorted dryly. Chan didn't say anything and just waited for him to answer his other question. The silence was unbearable for Changbin and he finally answered:

“No… I don't know what woke me up. I just did.” Chan frowned at the answer, he could see how bothered Changbin was over the matter, so he didn't press it any further. Changbin was puzzled and concerned. This was the second time this had happened in a row. And it had happened right in front of Chan too, why on earth had Chan let him fall asleep? Then he remembered that Chan had no idea of what Changbin was going through, so of course, he had let him sleep. Well him and Jisung both. Jisung was still dead to the world, drooling onto the palm of his hand and the boy shifted slightly in his sleep. Even though his head was in an awkward angle, he still seemed to be  very comfortable. Something that Changbin was envious of. He shook himself out his thoughts and went back to work. If anyone asked, they all had been working hard and definitely not sleeping and drooling all over the place.

The work day was finally over and 3racha finally actually came home in a humane time of the day.. Or late evening. They came back to the dorms at 9pm and the members had some mental peace, now knowing that the hard-working trio were going to get a proper sleep after a longer while. Changbin was still skeptical about his sleep though. While he was tired, yes, he wasn’t sure that would he be able to fall asleep or wake up again. As he climbed into his bunk bed, he googled reasons why did he wake up at night. Most suggested stress and anxiety. And they were the reasons that made the most sense, and he absolutely hated it. Why did he have to be an anxious person? He was still luckier than Felix, as he could hide his anxiousness easier and control it, but it sometimes it bothered him. And apparently affected his sleeping too, he added in his mind. His whole being felt heavy and he prayed that he could finally sleep like a normal human. His prayers, however, were not answered. Changbin wasn’t surprised at all as he woke up at 3am this time. After awhile of lying down and overthinking, he did fall asleep again, and thank goodness, he didn’t wake up again until Hyunjin’s loud ass alarm started ringing.

The week went on with similar pattern: he would work, eat, practice and after falling asleep, he would wake up in the middle of the night. He was starting to get desperate on what to do. He had tried to drink chamomile tea to calm his nerves, took melatonin and avoided looking at his phone before he went to sleep, but he always woke up in the darkness every night. Changbin started getting a little scared of falling asleep. It was dumb and childish, since the worst that could happen was that he would wake up during the night and wouldn’t fall asleep again or would continue going in and out of sleep. There was nothing to be afraid of, but he still did fear it. No matter how much he repeated to himself that it was irrational and dumb, he couldn’t really bring himself to believe the words when he actually did wake up. Other members had noticed how jumpy he was becoming and despite going to sleep fairly early, his dark circles didn’t lighten. If anything, they got darker.  

It was Sunday night and he woke up again. This time he was drenched in sweat and in no time he had tears pooling in his eyes. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, so he broke down crying. He tried to stifle his sobs that shook his whole body and in distress, pulled at his hair. He silently sobbed until his eyes were dry and even blinking hurted. The tears had burned his already dry lips and he could feel how swollen his eyes were, yet he didn’t care. There was nobody to see him in this state anyway, he thought to himself as he leaned his head against his knees that he had pulled to this chest. He decided that he had enough of sitting in the dark room, being suffocated by his own thoughts and tiptoed to the bathroom in plans of blowing his nose and splash his face with some water. What he wasn't expecting, was to hear someone walking towards the kitchen. He quickly tried to bactrack but slammed straight against a wall, hoping that the person, who was walking, hadn’t seen or heard him. Well, the last hope was completely crushed as he stumbled on something that made a loud clattering sound and the fact that him slamming against the wall also created quite a loud noise. He cursed under his breath and leaned his head against the wall.

“Hello? Who is in there?” The person, who revealed to be Chan, asked cautiously into the darkness. As he was debating that should he make a run for it and possibly run into walls (again) and create a big mess or try to wait it out, Chan had moved from his spot in the kitchen and was fumbling around, looking for a light switch. The lights were turned on suddenly and it blinded Changbin momentarily, he automatically brought his hands to his face to shield his poor eyes, which were already stinging from crying.

“Changbin?” the leader asked, confused. Why was Changbin awake at this hour of the night? He scanned the younger with his gaze, trying to find a reason why he was up and that’s when he saw Changbin’s chapped, dry lips and how the younger rapper was covering his eyes. Chan said his name again, this time getting his attention. Changbin looked up, locking eyes with the elder. Chan’s heart broke seeing Changbin’s bloodshot eyes and eyelids that were swollen, which just told him that the young man had been crying. He slowly made his way to the young rapper, putting his hand onto his shoulder in a calming manner. He didn’t say anything, just let Changbin lean against him and soak himself in comfort and warmth that his body emitted. He wrapped Changbin into his arms and rubbed the rapper’s tense back. Slowly but surely Changbin started relaxing and trusted Chan enough to hold his weight, when he melted against him.

“I haven’t been able to sleep well this week… I keep waking up in the middle of the night”, Changbin confessed quietly, words a little muffled as his face was pressed against Chan’s chest. Chan still understood and tightened his hold a little.

“Do you know why?” he asked carefully. All what he got back in response was a weak shake of the head and a low rumble:

“Well… I’ve googled stuff and the reason that made the most sense in my case would be anxiety. The comeback’s near and I’m a little worried.” He sighed and continued rubbing Changbin’s back.

“I’m not going to scold you, because I know how your mind works… But please, next time when things like these happen, you can come to me, to us. It’s okay Changbin, all of us struggle with sleeping one way or another at some point, we wouldn’t push you away or think that you’re annoying. We would be hypocrites”, Chan said, chuckling at the end his sentence. Changbin just hummed, showing that he had indeed heard him but was too tired to actually reply.

“What about… You come sleep with me and you wake me if you wake up. We can talk about what worries you and what’s going on inside that cute head of yours”, Chan suggested. Changbin found himself just nodding tiredly and together they staggered to Chan’s bed. They slipped under the covers without a fuss, and Changbin would never admit how eagerly he pressed himself against Chan again. Chan smiled broadly, but of course, Changbin couldn’t see it but somehow, he just knew that Chan was smiling like a doofus.

“Stop smiling like that or I’ll kick you off of the bed”, Changbin growled playfully. Chan held his laughter in and nodded, then wrapping himself around Changbin like a koala. Changbin took a deep breath and slowly relaxed again. Soon they both fell asleep. Even though Changbin woke up again later, this time because of a nightmare, Chan held him and reassured that everything was okay and that he was safe. And Changbin believed him. Now knowing that he had someone there for him if he woke up again, he went back into unconsciousness with a bit more ease.

[shiredded]

OH THIS IS ME. Chronic insomnia from early childhood. Unable to nap, fall asleep, stay asleep, either falling asleep at 4 AM or waking up at 4 AM or both. Was just made to run laps instead of taken to the doctor so I only started getting meds as an adult.

Meds I tried:

Melatonin did nothing. Trazadone, benedryl/antihistamines/anti-allergy meds, hydroxyzine, dramamine, ambian and all the others just made me feel "drugged" all night. Still just as awake and unrested as every other night, but now I'm laying in a vat of syrup and my body is less responsive. Ambien apparently just makes you dissociate so hard you fall asleep, but for a championship level insomniac it was just another soup to drug my body while my brain stayed awake and miserable.

What FINALLY worked for me was mirtazapine. I felt sleepy and tired and when I lay down my sleep felt natural.

Mirtazapine (remeron)

It's been around 4 years since then and I've had bouts of both insomnia and daytime sleepiness, but mirtazapine has been pretty trustworthy.

I've been taking 30 mg for a year, but 6 mg has also worked in the past. 45 mg was too much and I got a side effect that was so uncommon the pharmacist said it wasn't possible (daytime sleepiness, around 20 hrs per day) but my psychiatrist was like "UHHH" and knocked me back down to 30. Something to do with too much serotonin.

It also causes weight gain so I'm fat now, but I can sleep so who cares.

adding quetiapine:

Right now I'm having issues staying asleep and take quetiapine as needed. It makes me feel drugged but the mirtazapine lets me fall asleep in a natural-feeling way and quetiapine keeps me there. We tried catapres before the quetiapine but it stopped helping quickly and the side effects were awful. I'm not thrilled with quetiapine because of the dizziness, so hopefully ill be able to sleep with Just mirtazapine again one day.

airflow:

I also need to have my window, door, and window in the hall open for airflow. I wake up in the middle of the night feeling unable to sleep but not knowing the cause. It's not obvious, but apparently my lungs need hella airflow so I had to give up my pitch black and silent room curtains for light and air. It's annoying because I don't feel out of breath I just feel unable to sleep, but airflow is usually the answer. I have a heated blanket and a heated mattress pad so that I can have the windows open even if its january.

sleep debt:

after prolonged sleep deprivation, when your body finally gets a med that works, it's going to respond by knocking you flat and sending you to bed for several days to catch up on the sleep debt. Talk with your doctor about this possibility so you know what to expect and what to worry about. This applies to any sleep technique, medication, supplementary medication, sleep hygiene, meditation or whatever, etc

nutrition:

Another thing to talk about with your doctor is nutrition. It's ok if you can't suddenly start eating perfectly balanced and timed meals, you might just need supplements/multivitamins. If it doesn't conflict with meds, no reason not to try it. getting your vitemins balanced helps a lot in random areas of life, like period pain/heaviness. it's wild.

Bedtime screens:

When my insomnia makes falling asleep the problem again, I watch a very specific niche stim video channel that is unstructured enough that I dont mind missing parts of it while passing out.

I know you're not supposed to use screens at night, but I've found if I lay in bed waiting to sleep, I actually end up so stressed and frustrated that I never actually feel tired despite my meds. So I use flux or windows 10's built-in "nightlight" (filters blue light by turning your screen orange) and crank it to the highest setting. I will let my meds take me to near passing out and then shut it down and collapse into bed and go right to sleep. If I don't have the orange screen on, it's hard to feel sleepy even with meds. I don't do color work late at night for this reason. Line and value drawing only. I could probably have the same good result with paper books/drawing but I'm too stuck in my habits.

good luck I hope you sleep soon. Insomnia destroys your life and its really hard to get people to understand.

hopefully something in this ramble is helpful!

hey if any of yall who have insomnia feel comfy sharing, what do you do/take for it?

i'm so tired i'm so goddamn tired, i can't hack this anymore

reference level: these days i don't get any sleep at all like 3 days of the week, and the sleep i do get on the other days are terrible at best. you name it i got it - trouble getting to sleep, trouble staying asleep, trouble going in and out of sleep, trouble feeling rested/energized at all ... i'm fully unable to take naps at all like

i'm desperate here