#it's sort of like a 'model minority' situation nowadays

[rodeodeparis]

not to make this abt fandom but it’s really funny because despite the concept of media “representation” hinging on specific identities being present in a work of fiction i feel like tachibana is the only fictional character to ever like. be in the exact same situation i am . like that your very existence is the product of a colonial legacy in that you’re mixed with the “enemy side” and also with the “good side”. that being said i think yakuza 0 didnt handle it amazing (the game is japanese though so it makes sense) but i dont have authority to say that for certain because i’m not chinese or japanese

[cosmoknightchaos]

Pretend I asked anonymously, it would be funny.

🚨(siren) for Ets (:

🧣(scarf) Professor sonemeir (I need to know more about them)

🍒(cherries) for King Moonjumper (I beg of you)

Who the fuck are you (joking)

🚨(Siren): What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

This is the funniest fucking thing you could have picked for Etc holy shit

So I presume you mean AHIT Entropy, which in that case he makes the laws and therefore is above them. The closest thing he has to a law he has to abide by is the agreement with King Moonjumper for the two to stay out of each other's business, which Etc will very gladly follow because they cannot stand interacting.

But I do want to talk about OC Entropy too because it's much funnier. As a god masquerading as a human, ET has to follow a good amount of the laws. He can't run his coffee shop if he's in jail, after all. But as a shapeshifter, he really can do fuckall with the laws. Using various other forms, ET has done everything from minor misdemeanors to full felonies multiple times across multiple timelines. Nowadays, most of the crimes he commits are for shits and giggles and he draws the line at offenses that would harm another person (murder, assault, so on), but as long as no one else is intentionally harmed then he has done it!

Though he doesn't do it much anymore, ET's also violated the Geneva Convention multiple times, via inhumane treatment and torture, biological experimentation, and serious injury under unlawful and unjust means to innocents. After all, who can punish him?

🧣(Scarf): What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how any why does it comfort them?

Sonemeir,,,,,,

Vince definitely struggles with finding things to comfort him. Unfortunately, time and time again, the things he love tend to have something go wrong and then he associates the bad memories with it. It's like being introduced to a song by someone you were close to who broke your heart and now you can't enjoy the song anymore because all you think of is that.

Despite that, one of Sonemeir's big things is finding joy in the simple. Intentionally ironic for a man who's been involved in groundbreaking technological advances his whole career. I have few scenes of this story planned out in my head, but one in particular is between Paisley and Sonemeir and it's one of their first bonding moments. He's repairing them after some sort of intense situation, and the two are mostly quiet, interrupting the silence now and then with small comments and apologies. I think this moment is the first time in a while where Vince doesn't feel like a piece of shit. He has a pretty strong hatred of anything related to the Creator Models (which Paisley is a prototype of) and has a lot of bad memories attached to working on them, but for once, he doesn't mind this. And he's not sure why this is different, but something about working on one of his projects, completely disconnected from his career, knowing that once he's done he won't have his work taken away and repurposed... it's nice. It brings him a sense of comfort he hasn't felt in ages.

Any sort of tinkering from then onwards is a comfort to Vince. It's something he's familiar with, and it feels good to work on whatever. He builds random-ass shit with no purpose and it's great because it doesn't have to have a purpose. It's just for the heck of it. It's just because he likes it.

I also think he has some leftover trinkets from before Evan died that he hasn't gotten rid of. A lot of things related to Evan's death are touchy for him, and he's tried his best to erase Evan out of his life as a coping mechanism, but Vince has held on to a few things. They still bring him a feeling of comfort, especially after he gets kidnapped loses his job.

Actually, I think the real answer to this question is him losing his job. That's his greatest comfort. Because it's only then when he remembers that the world isn't that bad and that he can do things for himself.

🍒(Cherries): Does your character have a best friend? How long have they known each other? What do they like most about each other? How did they meet?

Noot you have no idea how happy I was to get asked about King Moonjumper on an OC Ask Game. An OC ASK GAME. Omg. You have made my whole-ass night with this.

I barely talk about them within the context of Horalo AU, but I do think Moonjumper and Tranquility are good friends. At least, they get along much better than Moonjumper and Entropy do. TQ is absolutely fascinated by King (in a sopping wet pathetic meow meow sort of way) and King is just glad to have someone in the Horizon he can have a genuine friendship with. They very rarely spend time together, but when they do, they do get along.

I hesitate to say Timmy as well because he and Moonjumper don't have the best relationship, but they are certainly something. Despite it only being a 9-year age gap (which is so fucking funny to think about), Moonjumper sees Timmy as a baby and would determinedly avoid using the word "friend" because he'd think they have too big of an age gap. I think the two really do get along best as a boss/right-hand man relationship (dare I say mentor/student, which is their relationship in Coffee Shop), but Timmy wouldn't hesitate to call King his friend. And King is certainly grateful for the company.

THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING TO SCROLL PAST THE REST OF THIS POST. THERE ARE MASSIVE WTSS/HORALO AU SPOILERS FOR THE REST OF THIS RESPONSE.

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Okay now for the actual answers

First and foremost, cheesy as fuck answer, but I really do believe King Moonjumper would consider his best friends to be his siblings. They mean the world to him and he loves them so so much that he's willing to risk everything in order to get back to them. Too bad they are fucking dead.

As for pre-Horizon, once again, Juno considers his siblings to be his closest friends. I don't think he was very close to anyone else, since time magic was fairly distrusted and he wanted to make sure himself and his siblings stayed safe, but he definitely had friends. I mean, he was a guy in his twenties once and he certainly acted that way. He knew folks, he knew folks (I have a running bit between myself and myself only of "King Moonjumper's Ex-girlfriend", which I've been sneaking into a lot of non-WTSS Horalo content, including in Rp6), and he had friends besides his siblings. Unfortunately that is not a part of him we ever get to see, so I don't have much of it developed.

I'd like to imagine that he was, at some point, friends with Cirsten Novaue, the woman who would eventually become Audun Horalo's wife. I don't know if he met her before or during her dating Audun, but I know they were fairly close. I really like the idea of Audun meeting her through Juno, but who knows. I just think it's funny that Juno's such good friends with the original concept for Sky's character lmao

[franklinperformance]

What Are The Benefits Of Performance Tuning An Audi In Birmingham?

At times it is observed that after years of running even the high-end cars like Audi face a drop in their performance & the vehicle owners are pretty concerned about the problem. This is where performance tuning comes to the rescue of drivers because it helps in restoring the performance of Audi.

Most Audi drivers are not aware of the benefits associated with performance tuning & tend to neglect it. Here in this article, we will discuss the benefits of performance tuning for your Audi.

Increases Fuel Efficiency

One of the best things about going for a regular performance tuning is that it helps in increasing the fuel efficiency of your car. Generally, when the Audi picks up miles, the miles per gallon (MPG) of the vehicle decreases significantly with each passing year and giving your high-end car the much deserved tuning is one of the easiest ways to increase the mileage of your car.

The performance tuning helps in sorting out any minor issues that might be plaguing some of the parts of your car. Most of the time when minor issues with parts like the fuel injector, fuel pump, and engine goes unaddressed, then it adversely affects the fuel efficiency & leads to increased fuel consumption by your car.

Going for regular performance tuning session will ensure that your engine isn’t performing under stress and wasting fuel which will make sure that your high-end car is having optimum fuel efficiency.

Takes Care of Emissions

All the modern cars including your Audi have to keep a tab on the emission from the vehicle. Nowadays, there is a lot of focus on decreasing vehicular emissions with various laws in place to impose stiff penalties if you are found violating the emission laws in place.

Over the years when the engine goes on functioning without getting adequate maintenance breaks it can lead to various issues and common among them is related to emission of high levels of smoke from the tailpipe of your car. Most of the time you might have observed black colored smoke coming out of the tailpipe of cars driving in front of you.

Now, if you are facing this kind of situation then it indicates problems with your engine and this can be taken care of by performance tuning. The tune up effectively deals with any kind of issues that might be plaguing the engine & also the engine control unit is protected from any potential future problems.

Avoid Potential Issues

One of the best things about going for regular tune up sessions is that it helps avoid future breakdowns to a large extent. Most of the time drivers have to face problems in their vehicles because of irregular maintenance schedules and this problem can be easily sorted by going for regular tune ups.

While driving a high-end car like Audi nobody would like to get stranded in the middle of the road because of a sudden breakdown. Most of the time this breakdowns are related to inefficient functioning of the engine. If you are sticking to your manufacturer-recommended regular maintenance schedule, then you will not face any issues with your engine.

However, most drivers skip these maintenance aspect of their cars only to encounter troubles with the functioning of the engine in the long run. That is why experienced mechanics always recommend going for performance tuning once or twice a year to make sure the performance & integrity of your vehicle stays intact.

Increase Safety & Resale Value

Now, most of the time after driving a car for some years people have the habit of looking for new models and selling their old car & this also holds true for Audi. However, the problem with normal cars and luxury cars is that if the luxury cars are not maintained properly then they won’t fetch you good sums of money on being resold.

Nevertheless, when you are going for performance tuning once or twice a year there is nothing to worry about because your Audi is going to perform like a new car. Besides that, by taking care of all the issues it ensures your safety on the road as all the parts including the brakes are going to function optimally.

Finally

The above-discussed factors are some of the leading benefits associated with performance tuning of your Audi. Most drivers are not aware of these benefits and that is tend to ignore performance tuning. You must get in touch with a qualified mechanic to schedule a performance tuning session for your car.

[itsclydebitches]

Was planning on making this my own post, but I thought you would be more suited to discussing this sort of topic. Something I've noticed when it comes to the more prominent/important/strong female characters (Nora, Pyrrha, Penny, Robyn, Emerald, Sienna) is that RT often has the tendency of giving them masculine allusions (Thor, Achilles, Pinocchio, Robin Hood, Aladdin, Shere Khan) as if they are unable to stand on their own as characters unless they have that connection to a male character. 1/3

It is worth discussing! Yeah, I hesitate to call it a pattern just because, as you say, Team RWBY themselves are an exception to the rule  — and as the title characters of the story, they’re a pretty big exception. We also have good women allusions turned into good women characters (Glynda with The Good Witch, May with Maid Marian) and bad women allusions turned into good women characters (Winter with The Snow Queen — I don’t think she was ever meant to enter full antagonist territory, but that’s another post). So it’s not just a matter of saying, “RWBY models their strong women after male inspirations and turns all female inspirations into male characters.” It’s not that simple. But the fact that it’s not simple doesn’t mean there’s nothing there to unpack because I definitely understand the feeling you’re pointing to, anon. Team RWBY feels like it has the most thought put into it in terms of changing up these allusions, specifically when it comes to subversion: the little girl in a red hood who previously needed a hunter’s protection has become the hunter herself, Belle overcomes both her Gaston and the now evil Beast, Snow White extracts herself from her own abusive situation (with a little help from the Dwarves still), and Goldilocks is no longer lost and in need of basic necessities, but can rather punch her way out of any establishment  — like, say, a club. The execution of these themes aside (how Adam was handled, turning Jacques’ arrest into a joke, etc.), there’s a commonality here that works. Or at least, it works for me. Yet when we expand the allusions past our title team, things get... very messy. That’s when we start to hit on these concerns. 

I’d say the problem stems primarily from that lack of thought, not the act itself of turning women characters into men or vice versa. Meaning, as I’ve said in the past, RWBY’s use of allusions is terribly unreliable nowadays, and that’s not just in terms of plot expectations like, “Why did Penny have to become a flesh girl because Pinocchio, but Ironwood didn’t stay good because Tin Man?” It also includes these questions of why these changes were made and what sort of messages they send. As you lay out, why are so many of our heavy hitters  — the most talented huntress, the lightning-immune smasher, the Maiden android, etc.  — based on men? Why are many of the effeminate and “weaker” men  — Jaune the untrained, Ren the emotional councilor, Oscar the kid who wants to talk it all out  — based on women? Again, I don’t intend to sling any hard accusations, but rather to point out what’s likely a subtle, unconscious bias. To provide another example, I’ve seen talk recently about how RT (again, unconsciously) depicts the faunus, where all the good characters have culturally established “good” animal features and all the bad character have culturally established “bad” features. It’s cat ears, rabbit ears, sheep ears, monkey tails, dog tails, and beautifully changing skin color vs. scorpion tails, spiderwebs, bull horns, tiger ears, bat wings, and crocodile scales. Is it a perfect 1:1 divide? No, Ghira has panther claws and Fennec has fox ears, but there’s enough there for us to go, “RT tends to give the good guys cute features and/or features we associate with safe animals, whereas the bad guys tend to get ugly features and/or features we associate with dangerous animals.” I feel the same way here, that there’s a bit of a trend at play, with the caveat that there are more complications simply by virtue of these allusions being, well, complicated. But there’s enough there to make us stop and think, “What were RT’s intentions with this? If they just chose something based on the rule of cool, what might those inclinations tell us about gender norms in America?” Meaning, when someone goes, “Idk, we just thought it would be cool to change this up” there’s a lifetime of media consumption driving that choice. It’s not actually random, but based on whatever has been normalized  — unless you actively counteract that by thinking through what you want the change to do. 

Unconscious biases are always at work. When we analyze something like this it’s often not a matter of saying, “The author is [insert accusatory term here]” but rather just, “The author is falling into expectations, patterns, and normalized decisions based on the culture they’ve grown up in.” Which includes things like thinking, “Well, if this character is based on a male god, she must be crazy strong. If this character is based on a woman fighter, he’s probably more emotional.” Such biases may be driving a lot of decisions because, as said in the past, I really don’t think RT is putting much thought into these allusions, if any at this point. For me, Penny was proof of that  — the inability to see how following her allusion utterly destroyed her character growth  — but even if we don’t agree about Penny, what about Salem? Far from just using her name, this volume gave us a blatant reference to the events of Salem Trails in the 1690s. Namely, the burning of the witch. 

Except references like this can’t just look cool. This isn’t a video game Easter egg with no real connection to the story, it’s a cinematography/plot choice that carries meaning. So what is that meaning? Well, the thing about the women on trail at Salem is that they were innocent. This is what that reference says: “Hey, remember that real life event where women who weren’t witches were horrifically killed because others thought they were evil? None were actually burned, but culturally we tend to think they were. So that’s the image in our collective mind: innocent women on fire.” Except... Salem is actually a witch. Salem is evil. Salem is guilty. Or at least, the questions surrounding the extent of her guilt  — How much responsibility does she hold in comparison to the Gods? How much agency does she still have after the grimm pool?  — has not been acknowledged by the text. Yang just yelled at Salem for killing her mom and Oscar is about to blow her up. This is not a “Question Salem’s humanity” scene, it’s a “Kill the witch” scene... yet it uses an allusion that is contrary to what the moment is trying to achieve. So what are we supposed to take away from this? Do we adhere to the subtext and believe that Salem is innocent somehow, ignoring what the actual text says, or do we uphold the text and in doing so undermine the reliability of every other allusion in the show? If we can’t trust Salem’s, why would we trust, say, Penny’s? 

RWBY’s allusions are all over the place and yes, I think that lack of consideration extends to who they randomly decided to genderbend. There’s no acknowledgment of  — let alone engagement with  — how many of these characters and historical figures were trying to pass themselves off as another gender, nor does RWBY acknowledge how the need to do so feeds into our current and historic assumptions about gender as a whole. Why does the man dress as a woman? To keep himself safe and seen as a non-threat. Why does the woman dress as a man? To gain access to places previously barred from her and to gain the respect she otherwise wouldn’t be afforded. And, of course, in 2021 there’s the expectation that media will include trans characters, GNC characters, non-binary characters, cis characters uninterested in practicing traditional femininity/masculinity, etc. None of which RWBY tackles outside of May, a woman who references a systematic transphobia we otherwise never see in the show. May, as a minor character, is great and I am in all honesty thrilled that she exists in the RWBY canon. However, the rest of the show is built on an anime conception of gender  — combat skirts and bare midriffs in the snow  — while nevertheless engaging with the very complicated question of how you re-imagine canonically/historically gendered people. As a “girl power” show, RWBY has opened itself up to questions like, “Okay, it’s great that you made these four fairy tale girls kickass, but can we talk about making Joan of Arc into a bumbling guy whose presence as a blonde, blue-eyed, sword-wielding man taking up lots of important screen time has generated accusations about this being a male-centered show?” It’s not a “RWBY is horrible for doing this!” issue, but a “RWBY is deliberately playing with gender and marketing itself as a progressive show, so... let’s figure out what these individual choices are actually implying and whether or not we consider that progressive.” 

[unholyplumpprincess]

Fucktoy

Commission long overdue for the lovely @ago-fucks featuring Revenant/Reader and a certain sex toy that’s a craze with all the cool kids out there.

Fleshlights, I’m talking fleshlights.

Summary: Revenant is best when he's tied up and begging, at least that's what you think. Or. In which you buy a new toy for your murder robot boyfriend and you get to test it out in the best ways involving bondage, begging, and getting to hear him say things no one else would get to hear.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, bondage, praise, mild degradation, reader is gender neutral and has a vulva and is specifically written as short and chubby, lots of Rev/Robot headcanons happening in here, wireplay, lingerie (on reader), Revenant has a cock attachment

Words: 3.2k

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A little surprise was needed every now and again, you thought.  

Revenant had been doing so well lately getting adjusted to this period in his life. In the arena, he was a menace to be seen, snarling and growling, shedding blood and laughing about it like it was his favorite thing. But, at home, sure he still snarled and growled- it was in his voice box to do so after all, but it was more of a grumble as he accepted your eager hands to drag him down to your much shorter height to press a kiss to his face plate and welcome him home.  

Like a feral cat, he’d had to warm up to you. You were one of the Apex Games medical experts when they arrived injured. Specializing in mechanics and secondly in human flesh, you were hired to work mostly on Pathfinder, and then of course when he joined, Revenant. Special repairs were to be had for each model, and oh did Revenant not like anyone touching him. You had made it clear that consent was strict.  

You would not touch him, unless he was comfortable with you doing so.  

~Rest under the cut~

Perhaps that had made him warm up to you quicker, with giving him the choice so he could have control on the situation. He’d grumbled the first time, but he’d let you patch him up at least, and then the second time had snarled he didn’t need your help before begrudgingly leaning to the side to show where a cord might have torn.  

And to present relationship? Now he cuddled up to you like an affection starved feline. Perhaps feline wasn’t a good word for him, maybe an arachnid with how his long, spidery limbs wound around you. Revenant had grumbled the first time that he hadn’t powered down in centuries, quite literally. Because he didn’t really know he could. But after some research on simulacrum, you found he had the ability to and now one of his favorite things was joining you in bed.  

So now? Now you were both looking on your laptop for new toys. You’d wanted to find something to accommodate his preferred attachment lately of a cock, since dildos and strap  ons  wouldn’t work with said attachment. Vibrators did pretty well, but you wanted something more...hands on.  

“What about one of these?” You had asked, offering the fleshlight section of the site. You’d been able to watch him hum curiously, his optics spinning as he admired the choices. Before he’d asked to see them in use. Which required looking up videos to give examples and being able to see him eagerly ask you to go back so he could pick one.  

With that out of the way, you placed one in the cart and waited for him to power down for the night before you’d snuck your phone and placed another thing in for yourself and ordered it express. Carefully maneuvering yourself back into his eager arms.  

Then it had been the desperate waiting game.  

The box arrives at your apartment’s doorstep discreetly packaged. You know Revenant is getting ready for a match so you text him eagerly from your holopad to let him know that his gift is here, and asking if he of course wants to try it out tonight. You bite your lip after you hit send, eagerness through your chest as you take to picking up around your home to ignore your own giddy feelings. You had today off, and probably good you did anyhow considering how excited your face must have been.  

It would be hours before he replied, but once you finally get that notification for his text, the sun has already started to set. You’d been tuned into the games, watching the cameras pick up on his victory with Bloodhound and Caustic at his side. Curled up on the corner of the couch and able to watch him nail Octane between his goggle’s lenses with a peacekeeper. Gory, perhaps, but you were a medical and mechanical professional, you’d seen worse.  

A solid, three burst knock makes you perk up. You’d been comfortable at home in some shorts and a hoodie, nothing special nor nothing you couldn’t answer the door in. You swing off the couch, padding across the floor and open it wide open to smile up at the bot at the door.  

“Hi, baby, saw your win! Congratulations on being champion!” You practically coo your praise to him, stepping by to let him in as you shut and lock the door behind you. Revenant lets his optics wander the apartment, cleaned and picked up, before finally looking downwards at you. He was already tall enough, but you were short by nature, meaning your head met about his chest plate. He’d always thought it was cute.  

Eagerly, you reach up for him, making a ‘gimme’ motion until he relents and leans down, letting you cup his face plate and peck a kiss on his silicone lower lip. “No scratches on you? I know I wasn’t there today; Theodore should have had you covered.” You murmur the last bit, releasing him so you could circle him like the worried partner you were.  

Revenant huffs in return, optics rolling, “Is that his name? I didn’t ask. You know very well no one can fix me as well as you can.” His voice growls in a low grumble, but you definitely take that last part as a compliment. It’s definitely worth it when you beam up at him from his side, lifting his arm briefly to check for the damages done to inner circuiting. The smallest brush of your fingers against the thick wirings of his right hip makes him make a soft noise, causing you to immediately retract and for him to be disappointed. Not that he’d show it.  

“You can’t be picky if you’re damaged,” You remind him, moving to in front of him with your arms crossed, watching him mimic your stance as he goes to sass you again but you’re quick on him, “And don’t you say it’s because I know better, he has just as many qualifications as me. You just like me.” Your voice is a tease, a smile on your face he can’t be mad at.  

It’s a slow walk to you room as you talk idly amongst yourselves. But as you make it to the bed, you pipe up quietly. “You still want to try, right? You know I’ve never minded if you don’t want to, I’d love you no less.” With a gentle hand to the curve of the metal at his hip and your eyes flicking up to search his optics for tension. Revenant had been...skittish when it came to sex, his biggest fear had been that he’d hurt you. Nowadays it was a way to be intimate, but you still felt the need to triple check just in case he wasn’t feeling up to it.  

He lets out a snort, a sort of choked growl in his voice box to mimic the sound. A hand over yours settles your nerves with his voice rumbling, “Yes. I picked the damned thing after all. Besides I,” He pauses there for a moment, seeming to struggle before he lets out in a softer tone, bringing your hand up to his face plate so he could mimic a kiss to your knuckles. “I enjoy our intimate time together. Or whatever frilly way you want me to say ‘fuck’.”  

It eases the tension in your body, a laugh choking from you as you move the hand brought to his face to cup his face plate, running your thumb on his silicone lower lip. Revenant’s optics flicker to the bed, clearly curious as to where you HAD said toy. But, your grin must answer his question, “Get comfortable on the bed and I’ll go get ready. Remember your safe words and signals?”  

It’s with a soft huff Revenant does as told. Red, yellow, and green were always easy to remember. The hand signals were simple enough, depending on what was hindered. Two slaps to any nearby object or two slams of his foot were silent ways to say stop.   

You wait for him patiently, reminding him of what a good boy he is and leaving the room to let him undoubtedly get his attachment on. As well as to sneak into the bathroom to find the freshly cleaned toy, rope you’d had lain out, and your outfit of choice.  

Your body was always on the plumper side, but you didn’t have an issue with it- neither did Revenant at that. Your lovely body is dressed in a dark blue, lace baby doll night gown. The night gown part was split right beneath your chest with a lovely little bow, splaying across your sides and ending at the swells of your thighs. Scalloped straps pulled up over your shoulders, letting your plentiful cleavage be shown. The panties were a matching thong, with thigh highs to boot.  

Perfect.  

When you walk back out into the bedroom, Revenant’s reaction is almost feral. The way the static in his voice box goes lower with the low growl he lets out, his optics seeming to spin in almost a bird-like fashion with how darker orange fills the space and then  thins  out. It makes you feel...wanted.  

“Down boy,” You playfully coo, letting your thumb slide across the rope in one hand to ground yourself and remind yourself who was in charge tonight. Especially when he growls again, his attachment clearly hard with the nodes on the sides lit up a bright red. “Remember who you belong to tonight.” You remind him.  

But, God, does his cock look delicious. A black thick silicone with red textured mini spikes lining the sides as well as lit up nodes curling up to the head. Five inches long with a  three-inch  girth, it was plenty to take, Revenant always liked to watch your face contort trying to take him, but tonight you weren’t going to be taking him. No, no, you were going to make him cry with a toy and make him beg to have you.  

The next steps are simple. Tying him up. The rope goes easily across metal, tying carefully between joints and pressing kisses where they meet. You tie him on his back, wrists to ankles and forcing his long legs up and apart with his wrists. Bound and exposed, his legs stay open and high, bent at the knee comfortably without it being too complicated. You praise him all during it, soft kisses on his ankles and wrists as you duck to the side to grab the toy and settle back in front of him.  

The wiring on his inner thighs is always a go to so you start there. Caressing the thin wires that connect the joints to a thick metal core. He immediately tenses, mouth falling open to reveal sharp metal teeth and the way his throat echoes like a long hallway when he groans. You smirk a bit, tracing your fingers up closer to his hip where a thicker bundle of wires rest, letting him shake briefly as your nails trace up the inner silicone lining to form a hip bone.  

His cock jerks with a gentle grunt in his throat. His cum reserves must have been full, considering a small bead of translucent red cum drips down his cock.  

“What a good boy. Already filled without even being asked?” You begin small, letting your hands wander down his hips to the center of your attention. His hips attempt to come up to no avail in his exposed position, allowing you to trace one nail up his cock and watching it jerk again weakly. “You must have been thinking about this all day.”  

The response to you is a weakened growl, a reverberating sound as if he was in a cave that trails off into a breathy, high sound. It doesn’t sound human, no surprise there, but it does make you grin.  

A few pumps and he’s set on throwing his head back to huff to himself in pleasure. Revenant was always sensitive, had always been, you imagined centuries of no touch would do that to you. But, even now, it seems he’d be flushed all over if he could. He’d probably be fucking your fist at this rate if he could even move them, poor thing.  

It’s not much more teasing before you glide the lubed fleshlight up the underside of his cock. Letting the faux lower lips frame him and sliding it up to the head. His hips twitch, his head jerking to the side and exposing the sensitive wirings of his throat with the shift of his cowl.  

The wet slide of it on his cock is a tight, tight fit. Something that you can only imagine as your greedy eyes take in the crimson toy swallowing his thick shaft with a wet ‘shlick’ as it tightly envelops him. You can feel the way he jerks in it, watching the tips of his fingers curl against his ankles and his optics flickering a few times before seeming to buzz back to existence.  

“Fuck-” He whines out, a shaky sound in his chest that sounds distant with the way his head rolls to the side and causes his wiring to shift for his voice box. “Fuck-- ” He croaks out again with a creak to his throat as you begin to shift the toy upwards to the head and slide it back down.  

“That’s a good boy, that’s what I like to hear,” You praise him, feeling yourself affected as well as your breathing as you begin fucking the toy on him. Each wet slide is met with a wet, soft slap of the toy hitting his pelvis. The creak of the metal of his joints and how he whines and growls in soft, panted, breathless little noises. You about take him out when you twist the toy and slam it back down onto him, hearing him yowl much like an animal in heat.  

“So pretty for me,” You continue with your own voice breathless, “So easy to make you feel good, my little toy.” You use the name carefully, eyes flickering to his face to gauge his reaction.  

It’s positive, to say the least, where his head flings back and you know he’d be fucking into your grip if he could. Instead, he’s made to squirm and jerk in his bonds, panting heavily as you stroke him with the tight, wet little toy again and again.  

“You sound beautiful, baby.” You murmur.  

Just to watch him cry out and give the telltale signs he’s close. With low whines in his throat fading off to low, breathed out growls. Huffing and huffing until-  

You stop.  

And Revenant cries out like a wounded beast. Optics flickering until they land on you and he snarls like you’ve deprived him of his treat. You imagine he doesn’t like it when you smile, holding the fleshlight juuuust  about the tip of his cock where he’s leaking the translucent fluid, shiny and wet from the toy and oh so wanting.  

“Give. It. To. Me.” He snarls out each word like a threat. But kind of hard to be threatening with your dick so hard and you’re an exposed simulacrum tied up in pretty ropes.  

“I want to hear you beg,” You grin in turn, tilting your head coyly when he snarls again. “I want to hear you say you’re my cutest fuck toy.”  

“No.”  

“I wasn’t asking.”  

Revenant scoffs before he pauses at your tone, tempting and low. His optics shift away briefly. Embarrassment would be hard to see in someone like him, but you can tell from the silence and the way he’s breathing despite not needing to. He had his safe words, he had his signals, but you have the feeling he’s not even thinking about those. Instead, you can see him trying not to be humiliated. So, you give him a little encouragement with a rub of the toy just to watch him shudder.  

That sparks his brattiness. He tries to buck up to no avail, tries to roll and shake and hump, for not.   

When that doesn’t work, he tries again, but adds in, “Please let me cum! Let me cum, goddamnit! Goddamn you- let me- let me cum!” He sounds so cute when he does it, desperate and wanting. You give him some slack, one pump of the toy just to get his hopes up and to hear him moan with static tracing the edges only to hold it just above the head again.  

“Fuck!” He snarls, desperation dripping in his tone in an almost sob. Almost.  

Your hand comes up, gripping his throat and pressing your thumb into the junction of his two thickest wires. A small amount of pressure on the thinner one makes him feel like he’s going to get light headed, a well pressed pressure point as you growl at him and begin jerking him with the toy in a nice, but not enough pace.  

“You’re my favorite, cutest fuck toy. Say. It.” You punctuate each word with a harsh slam of the toy twice before holding it at the head. No matter how much he cries out and swears, you don’t move, letting his voice creak and crack until you release the wiring.  

“I’m your cute-cutest fuck toy! I’m y-your- AH!” Revenant near about wails it out, only to choke when you begin fucking him with the toy earnestly. Letting his breaths come out in repeated, short snarls until he’s cumming with a long sound fading off into nothing.  

The cum drips from the end of the toy into your hand. You give it a few more jerks for good measure, just to watch him jerk and huff in overstimulation before you slowly drag it off with a wet noise. You set it on the nightstand, telling yourself to deal with it later as you work the ropes off of him and set them to the side.  

You lie down on your back, letting him come to you like a clingy little spider. One arm  wraps  around your middle, his head coming to rest on your chest as you cup the back of his neck and stroke the metal forming his spine. You  caress  him gently, gently nudging him for him to look up at you so you can kiss the flatness of his skeletal nose and smile at him.  

“You did a good job, baby.” You murmur adoringly, kissing the corner of his mouth to match. “Thank you for indulging me. You feeling alright?”  

“Just peachy.” His voice comes out as a hoarse growl, no doubt overusing his poor voice box. But even then, it makes you laugh, kissing his forehead once again.  

“What about you?” He murmurs after a moment, his finger hooking into the thin waistband of your panties and making your cheeks flush. “Would be a damn shame to not put any of this to use...”  

“Bold for someone who just said he was my fuck toy.” You cheekily toy back, watching his head snap up and his optics widening and thinning out in a quiet threat.  

You’d pay for it later, but for now? For now he just grumbles, shoving his head back onto your chest.  

Good boy.  

[pokefarm-q]

firewolf1117 refuckingceipts (it's all been removed now but people archived it)

this bitch:

When you say “All Cops are”, here’s what you’re really saying:

All Blacks are Criminals All Mexicans are Illegal All Americans are stupid, fat, and lazy All Rape Victims are liars All Suicide Posters are Attention Seekers All Muslims are Terrorists All LGBT deserve to die

Are you outraged yet? GOOD.It means I touched a nerve.

You would never, ever, EVER say those things about those groups of people because you KNOW that it’s not true, even in the slightest. There are so very very FEW Cops who are actually corrupt and using their power and position inappropriately.

So what gives you the right to say the same about cops? COPS! Who are practically SOLDIERS! EVERY DAY their family lives with the fear that they won’t return. EVERY DAY they put their lives in danger to PROTECT you! They, as a whole, deserve your RESPECT!!! MOST ALL “Brutality” cases are from the CRIMINAL fighting, disrespecting, grabbing a weapon, etc. If you’d just COOPERATE AND BE RESPECTFUL you’d be treated FAIRLY!! Cops don’t have the time to sort things out. Their snap second decisions PROTECT them AND nearby Civilians. You can’t possibly understand the FEAR AND TERROR they hold EVERY SECOND of EVERY DAY! So don’t you DARE judge them for mistakes.

and here’s the response of one brave user, this legend, this badass mofo, who replied to their bullshittery and got banned for a day for posting in the whiny crybaby bitch’s journal without permission:

Replying to this, because FireWolf1117 is intentionally spreading misinformation and hate. I don’t care if the staff is going to tell me off for this — for once, I care a little more about setting this right than following the Journal rule.

First of all, United States cops are legally not required to save civilians. It’s not considered unconstitutional, according to the case Warren v. District of Columbia (444 A.2d. 1, D.C. Ct. of Ap. 1981). To keep it short, cops can literally see crimes being committed and decide not to intervene if they feel like it. This has been quite common among police departments if you (objectively) compare the police’s actions during BLM protests and anti-lockdown protests.

Anyways, let’s get to your generalizing logic. I have to agree with you on one thing: generalizing is bad. No group should be generalized because of some rotten apples. However, this doesn’t count for cops. Here’s why not:

The police force isn’t a marginalized group. A police officer is a profession. A job. Cops are public servants. They work for the state, for the civilians. And that’s why they need to be held accountable for any misconduct they commit. Which is, unfortunately, is objectively not the case. According to statistics from https://mappingpoliceviolence.org, 99% of United States cops who have killed citizens have not been criminally charged, because police departments literally protect officers from getting tried. Of the 750+ shootings done by police this year, only four cops are getting tried. So much for “there are only a few corrupt ones”. Black people are also way less likely to carry a weapon compared to White people, while Black people get shot by cops thrice as likely.

What’s more, because the police force is a profession, people can quit being a police officer. This doesn’t count for most of the groups you mentioned: Black people can’t stop being Black, Mexican people can’t stop being Mexican, Americans can’t stop being American (also you including Americans kinda makes you look embarrassing lol no offense), rape victims can’t be ‘unraped’, Muslims (or even just Arabs in general) can’t stop being perceived as Muslims (even Sikhs get seen as Muslims nowadays…) and LGBTI+ people can’t stop being LGBTI+ (unless they discover they’re not). Police officers can literally take their uniform off and be perceived as normal human beings. As soon as they are on duty and take on their uniform, a huge responsibility awaits them. A responsibility that has been abused by them to the point that marginalized people will hesitate before calling the police, fearing that the police will either come too late or escalate the situation. Cops aren’t endangering their own lives. They’re endangering the lives of those they’re supposed to protect. No good person would shoot a man in his back SEVEN times for being 'aggressive’. No good person who claims to protect and serve would kneel on someone’s neck for eight minutes while that person was cooperating with them. No good person would shoot a completely innocent woman in her sleep because they raided the wrong house. (BTW, Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still walking free as if nothing happened.) No good person would shoot a 12-year-old kid for having a toy gun. No good person would kill a man in his car for… picking up his ID to show it to the cop. Just because you cooperate, doesn’t mean that you’re safe.

Your logic is clearly flawed, because you judge cops on their personality, and not on the bigger picture. All cops are “bastards” not because we see all of them are evil killing machines that shoot people on sight — it’s because they contribute to an oppressive system, whether it’s directly or indirectly. It’s more than 'just a few cops’: the government wants bad laws to be enforced, the prison system is getting used as a business model, minorities are forced to live in poor socioeconomic areas on purpose BY the government, gentrification exists, multi billionnaires are exploiting low-class working people even more, there’s a damn pandemic that’s not being taken seriously… And guess who’s at the front of keeping the fragile capitalist system intact? Right. The police. The face of the government, that’s laughing at Black people, people of color, disabled people, LGBTI+ people… No good cop exists, even if they’re nice to everyone. Good cops who speak out against the abuse of other cops get fired, because the police departments don’t want the truth to be exposed. If you truly want to be someone who saves people’s lives, then stop being a cop and get a better job, like a firefighter, an EMT, a psychologist… Anything that isn’t completely corrupted.

Even during the recent BLM protests, cops are showing off their power. They escalate situations without provocation more times than BLM protesters start shit. Also cops are committing literal war crimes by using tear gas and other chemicals against civilians (IT GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION FOR FUCK’S SAKE). Not so protective now, aren’t they? The only thing BLM protesters have hurt are cops’ ego. Trust me, protesters being a little mean to cops won’t ever be as bad as all the innocent lives cops have taken and covered up.

I want to go on forever, because I have a lot more to say (such as why “All Lives Matter” is reactionary and racist, how the police force was formed in the first place, how the effects of slavery and colonialism are still being felt by Black people to this day, how and why 'riots’ can be 'justified’), but I’ll leave it at this. At least I got to give counterarguments to your points. Take care and educate yourself! (Tip: stop watching FOX News and Infowars if you do that, you’re going to develop brainrot! ;__;)

ladies and gentleman of the jury, as you can see, this user not only came into this argument prepared, but they were civil and had links (that aren’t links now oop soz). they gave this bitch plenty of opportunity to learn and grow from this without attacking her.

but your bet your ASS the poor little white girl went crying to her daddy about people ATTACKING HER and BULLYING HER FOR HER OPINIONS!!!! she uses her anxiety as a get out of jail free card CONSTANTLY, bitching and moaning about how, and these are directly quoting from HER own journal:

MAY 29, 2020

I log in to this game to have fun and escape the stresses and problems of real life. I do NOT want to be going about my business, and see “BLM” in someone’s Trainer Card, and have to deal with a surge of overwhelming emotions (whether positive or negative). I simply cannot handle the Anxiety that results.

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site. I understand you want to talk about them, and that’s fine. But out of respect for people like me, can you please do so in private with the people you know WANT to see and discuss it?

just admit you’re racist dude.

She uses CSS. SHE CAN FUCKING HIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S FUCKING CARDS. PEOPLE CAN TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE ON THEIR OWN DAMN PAGES. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU.

Also! You know she only put “whether positive or negative” to quell any hate she might’ve gotten because ANXIETY is usually not a positive emotion. There’s not even a positive CONNOTATION. and she hopes to be published by the end of the year lmfao yeah right.

and then, on JUNE 16, 2020:

I WAS going to make a post in response to the most recent announcement, but now I’m just too frazzled and upset about it. Still making a post. I’ll just be posting it off site so I can say things how I want to say them, and so I don’t have any in game repercussions.

Honestly, though. I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!! Because of this “decision”, I’m going to make one of my own. I am gone from this site until current affairs are resolved. Heck. Perhaps even after. I will NOT be a part of a site that allows…Ugh. NOT going to get into this here.

but like… she came back a month later lmao

OH AND!! Earlier this month on AUGUST 6, 2020 she posted this!

It really breaks my heart seeing derogatory remarks against Cops in people’s Trainer Cards. It’s upsetting that you feel that way, and even more so that you make your hatred so vehemently known.

Personally, I don’t know why any of those Cop comments are allowed. If someone had something in their Trainer Card against Religion, LGBT, or POC, I guarantee that statement would be removed. So why is it alright for people to make hateful, vile, disgusting remarks against Cops? Despite it being someone’s personal opinion, it’s still Hate Speech, and shouldn’t be allowed.

this bitch is part of the lgbt+ community. she’s part of a marginalized group.

The “"derogatory remarks”“ she’s talking about? #AllCopsAreComplicit #CopsStinky #AllCopsSuck

which brings us back to Exhibit A, ladies and gentlemen! Her equating #AllCopsAreComplicit and #CopsSTINKY to "All LGBT deserve to die” and a Shitton of other stereotypes. Well fucking done.

Despite bitching and moaning about I DONT WANNA SEE ANYTHING, despite there being ways she can fucking hide it HER DAMN SELF she chooses instead to bitch piss moan bitch piss moan bitch piss and fucking moan and then when someone calls her out on her genuinely harmful bullshit, pulls the wounded gazelle gambit, claims she’s being attacked, and puts in her Card that “anxiety attack! again! waaaah!” like anyone has a shred of sympathy left for her ugly ass. She can’t handle looking like the bad guy so she plays the anxiety card. She bitches about never having any friends, only depression and anxiety, and it’s like bitch no fucking wonder.

Both the top posts have been taken down, but the user who responded to her has gotten nothing but love for her mad courage in saying something when no one else dared.

Firefurrywolf made a halfassed apology (August 30, 2020) which I won’t go into but there is one line that sticks out to me because it’s such a goddamn lie:

When I state my opinion, I usually do so with grace and eloquence. I did not think about my actions this time.

… do you?

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site.

Do you… really?

I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!!

I don’t think so. You vile, disgusting, manipulative, obnoxious, PRETENTIOUS, racist, terfy bitch.

Oh, before I forget, yeah. Terf. She looks like one too. All over her insta. Gross.

NOVEMBER 19, 2019

My response to a LGBT post in one of my writing groups.

I don’t know most of these terms within the community. Don’t really care to know either, cause your preferences won’t change my feelings about who you are. I probably should, though, cause the Its and Xes really confuse me.

I knew I was a Demi-Ace for a few years. I’ve also known that I was Poly since I was early teens. But I’m also attracted to beauty and care more about who you are as a person than your preferences, so apparently I’m Panaesthetic as well?

Also firm believer of “True Love Knows NO Bounds”

Her journal got moved to 18+ because there was a post talking about sex. Might’ve even been alluding to rape. On a CHILDREN’S SITE. In her CHILD-FRIENDLY journal. It sat there for at least two months. TWO MONTHS. But I will not be posting that here, but it’s still there if anyone wants to snoop. All of this is public. Well, it was. But at least minors won’t be exposed to this histrionic little whiny whitey who is absolutely drowning in her white privilege.

Just because she changed her pfp from her face to a shitty drawing she did doesn’t hide the fact that she’s white, and the worst kind of person with little to no actual coping skills.

She claims to be an artist, a writer, all this, blah blah, but then why doesn’t she channel any of it into her work so she can get fucking better at them? She says she’s working on losing weight, so do that. Instead of shrieking and stomping your fucking feet like a toddler at the peak of their terrible two’s, throwing tantrum after fucking tantrum on a CHILDREN’S SITE about your shitty stances, go for a fucking walk. Punch a fucking punching bag. Literally anything else. You’ll feel better, you’ll lose weight faster, you’d be keeping your vitriol to your damn self and no one will “attack” you.

“Are you ourtraged yet? GOOD. It means I touched a nerve!”

She fucking wanted a reaction. But couldn’t handle it when she actually got one. I’m so embarrassed. Grow some fucking thicker skin, you’re older than I am. Grow a pair and shut the goddamn FUCK up.

For now, the evil is defeated, and I rest my fucking case.

[the-queer-look]

Queer Limelight

Name: Anton Age: 59 Location: Redfern Occupation: News Presenter Sexual Orientation: Gay Gender: Male

I’ve been a news presenter for the past twenty five years, and I’ve spend just over twenty two with SBS, in the presenters chair since 1999. I identify as a gay man. Of all the labels you could apply to yourself in life that would be the one that most defines who I am. I would describe myself as being quite conventional in the way I present in terms of gender, and fashion forwardness. I don’t think I’m particularly adventurous when it comes to fashion, I like to look smart and presentable, but because there is a public version of me and a private version of me, I tend to keep the two fairly seperate. For professional events, appearances, and broadcasts there is a very specific way that I am required to dress, and it’s quite constrained. When I’m not in that mode, just walking the dog, hanging out with my partner, or doing sports it’s much more dressed down than even just meeting someone like I’m meeting you today where I would want to be along that line of smart and comfortable. In terms of presenting gender wise I present as very male. I come from a generation of gay men where there was a very strong divide between flamboyant men, and masculine men, and no one wanted to be the flamboyant man who was easily identified as gay – It was a time when you wouldn’t want to be easily recognised as gay, luckily times have changed, but I still feel that that sense of who I am is leaning to that masculine side. Given I’m not a particularly masculine personality, the way I present is definitely leaning in that direction.

A lot of people say that it (realising your sexuality) happened very young for them. High school for me was the turning point where I realised that there was an attraction that I felt. The way that my guy friends were getting crushes on girls, I was getting crushes on boys. Initially you just think “oh thats just a phase I’m going through, don’t worry about it.” but by the time I reached high school I realised that’s a feeling that isn’t going away and that it felt very natural. It’s a fairly agonising time, realising that that’s part of who you are, and not just something that you’re going through and will grow out of.

I am more assertive as a gay man, There is a burden that is lifted from you when you come out, and thirty five years ago it was a very different process coming out compared to what it is today. It manifests in smaller things like… would a man wear a scarf? There was a time when I wouldn’t do that because it felt too flamboyant, too obvious. Now though I feel much more comfortable, I’ll wear statement pieces, I wear an ear stud on camera – there was a time that would have been completely unacceptable for being too gay. Today? No one gives a stuff, News presenter is wearing an ear stud? So what? I’ve had it in since 1982, it’s not a new thing, but I can now feel comfortable having it in and presenting a part of my personality. I used to have to take it out and replace it with one of those blank studs for the news, its so much easier now!

I’m originally from South Africa, which was a fairly repressive society, and there was a lot of pressure to conform. I was outed by a newspaper reporter who just ambushed me saying “I just found out this information, would you like to comment on this story? I’m going to publish it anyway.” I was outed and not sure where it would leave my television career, but it was also like a liberation, I didn’t have to hide anymore. From there I became active in sports administration, gay and lesbian sport specifically. That was a big validation for me, it was like finding a home to be where I felt comfortable. We were actually campaigning for change, acceptance, and awareness. We had media campaigns going, local and international sports events going and that was a big turning point for me in terms of feeling comfortable as a gay man.

It was both empowering but at the same time those were the early nineties. It was a time of great transition for all of South Africa. Apartheid was being broken down, all of that negotiation was going on and it felt like the gay community… we weren’t the main game, but there was an opportunity for the community to say “hey, don’t forget about us, there are all these major political reforms, new constitution and everything, and we are a part of the deal.” It was quite empowering – I wasn’t a part of the process, that was for all of the advocates, lawyers, campaigners, and activists, who were doing all of the negotiating, but it was quite exciting to be a part of something new – to go from a system of great repression to a model constitution that was a world leading document that included a bill of rights that specifically included no discrimination on the basis of age, gender, sexual orientation, ableism and so on. It felt like being a part of history.

It was interesting to come to Australia from that, a whole different environment that was completely unknown. I came into a media market where I had zero experience and just lucked out at finding any employment. In about 2002 there was a thing in “The Good Weekend” called “Just The Two Of Us.” where they just interview two people about their relationship. They called me up and asked me to take part and I didn’t think for one second whether I should consider the implications, or consult my employer, and it was like a second coming out, just here in Australia. I outed myself as a gay man to a national publication. Luckily I work for quite a progressive network where that sort of thing has never been an issue.

I’m quite positive about the term “Queer”, I’m very much in the camp that says “That’s out word to use in whatever positive and constructive way that we want”. There was obviously a time in my life when that was used as an insult, and you couldn’t speak back against that because that was just the way society was set up in those days. There was the “establishment” the state, the church, community leaders, psychologists, everyone was on one side, and you were the exception, the outsider, the rule breaker, the disruptor, and the establishment could use all of these weapons to beat you down and try to make you conform, and that was one of the words that they used in those days to try and force you to be something you were not. I celebrate the fact that nowadays we can take a word like that and say this is our word, this word is for us and we have the right to shape how it is used.

I thin it’s very important to keep some pressure on all media to keep everyone honest. We all have a place in all of those platforms, and you need to keep reminding them that cant have an all white newsroom, and all white presenting team, and all heterosexual presenting team, or an all non-indigenous group. We need that diversity, and we need to keep reminding people when they fall down on the job. There are organisations like Media Diversity run by Antoinette Lattouf from Chanel Ten, and it’s really important to have organisations like that to support people trying to get opportunities in the media, whatever little support and advocacy you can get as a minority is always welcome and needed.

I always try in whatever small way I can to support organisations, individuals, campaigns that try to present a positive image of the larger gay and lesbian community. I’m not sure if that counts as being completely engaged in the queer community, I’m not an activist or advocate, but I try to support the community whenever I can.I feel absolutely connected with gay and lesbian people in the wider community. It is very much a part of who I am and how I see myself. I’m proud to be a part of that community, it isn’t something that was thrust upon me, it’s something I embrace. You don’t want to be pigeonholed as the “something” person within the media landscape – I don’t want to be labelled as the gay news presenter, or the brown skinned, or the migrant. We are many things in many situations, but my connection to the gay community is a key part of who I am.

I think that, like it or not, those of us that have a public profile have a sense of having to be better just to be good enough. You cant be just another person. There aren’t enough queer people in the media in order to just disappear and not make an impression and not make a positive impression on the airwaves. I don’t regard myself as a role model, but whatever positive presence I can present I can, and if I’m here then there’s room for other people like me to be here as well, and if that’s the only message that I can put out there then I’m happy with that.

We’ve come such a long way, but I would like to reach a point where it becomes more ordinary. We shouldn’t just be noticed when it’s Mardi Gras, or have someone be noted as our first gay something or other. I don’t want my gayness to be the main thing that people define me by. I want to reach a point where a person’s gender or sexuality is present, but unremarkable.

Full gallery on Facebook.com/thequeerlook

follow us on instagram @thequeerlook

Please contact us if you would like to be involved

[punjusky-blog]

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Misery Loves Company part 1

*****WARNING! WARNING!*****

Dear Readers, I hate to inform you but my extensive research on the Baudelaire case takes a turn for the worst in this chapter. Within this chapter, you will come across depictions of graphic child abuse. This chapter contains mild gore, violence, physical abuse of a minor, torture, threats of violence. If you have a weak stomach or are easily squeamish, I would advise skipping that section of this chapter.

The section in question begins a few paragraphs after Klaus starts throwing his grappling hook. [Indicated by the word Clang!] and ends at the end of the chapter. Please read with caution. Sorry for any disturbing imagery.

[Also note, If you find that you cannot finish this chapter or even attempt to read the section that I am warning you about, I am willing to explain in less detail what happens that way you are aware of the events that take place in this chapter. Just reach out and let me know.]

Tread cautiously. Thank you all who support me and this fic. I hope I don't disturb you too much.

With all love and respect, -Susan

                                            Chapter Eight:

                      The One With Klaus’ Failed Rescue Attempt

If Klaus Baudelaire had to pick a day that was the worst day of his life, he would’ve picked today as that day. Before Count Olaf had kidnapped Sunny and shoved her into a birdcage, Klaus would have chosen the day his parents had perished in that terrible fire, but this seemed worse somehow. The rest of the day was pure Hell for Klaus as he did all of his backbreaking and tedious chores under the watchful eyes of either Count Olaf or one of his vile troupe members. It was night time and they had finally left Klaus alone. He was in his attic bedroom pacing back and forth. He had gotten Sunny into this mess by outsmarting Olaf about inheritance law and now he had to outsmart him again and rescue Sunny. But he couldn’t form any sort of plan.

Klaus looked around the room for anything helpful but stopped in his tracks when he had noticed Sunny’s diaper bag. He could see her baby blanket was on the top of it and he frowned. He imagined being that high up within a metal birdcage must have been cold. He grabbed the blanket and headed up the curving stairs of the tower room. He was not surprised to see sitting in front of the door was the Hook Handed Man who looked up from his game of Solitaire and glared at the boy.

“What are you doing here?” He asked still glaring at the boy.

“I...I was wondering if I could give my sister her baby blanket. I thought she might be cold.” Klaus said not looking at the man.

“Boss said you’re not allowed in this room under any circumstances. You shouldn’t even be on this staircase.”

Klaus frowned but held out the blanket. He remembered that this man was the only one of Olaf’s vile theatre troupe that seemed worried for Sunny when Olaf was balancing her above his head using only one hand. “Could...could you give it to her? It must be awfully cold.”

At first, he shook his head at the young boy, eventually going back to his card game. Klaus sighed, “Do you have a sister?”

Surprisingly the Hook Handed Man looked up at the boy with a big frown on his face. He simply nodded.

“Is she younger?” Klaus asked as the Hook Handed Man nodded again. “Well, can you do me this favor. Big brother to big brother. Hell, if you don’t want to do this for me, can you do it for her. For Sunny.”

After several moments of contemplation, the Hook Handed Man stood up and reached for the blanket gently. Klaus gave him a small smile. “...C-c-can you tell her that I love her and that I am sorry.” Klaus pleaded trying his best to hold back tears.

The man just nodded, “Will do.” he said as he entered the tower room locking the door behind him. Klaus whispered a quick ‘thank you’ and raced down the stairs of the tower room. He headed back to his attic room and began pacing around the room again.

He knew he had to spring into action, he also knew his best time to act would be at night when Count Olaf was either too busy drinking to pay attention to him or asleep. So after nearly another hour of endless pacing, Klaus began to sneak his way to the backyard. His aching body pained with every slight movement but he wasn’t going to let that or his growing fear of Count Olaf stop him from saving Sunny. His baby sister needed him. He had to rescue her from that birdcage and then both of them were going to run away from this Hellhole. He didn’t know what would come of them on the streets but he imagined that anything was better than being in Count Olaf’s ‘care’.

Klaus stealthily made his way from the unfit bedroom to the backyard without being detected. He could hear Olaf in the dining room chatting about his grand victory over Klaus and Sunny, he could hear all his henchmen, except for the Hook Handed Man; whose turn it was to guard the tower room, laughing and applauding Olaf. This made Klaus sick to his stomach. How could those idiots applaud such a vile man like Olaf? Nothing Olaf had done deserved any appraisal or applause. He physically abused a twelve-year-old boy and he had locked an infant in a birdcage, he deserved to rot in jail not applause.

Klaus quietly looked around the yard, something here had to be useful to help him and his baby sister out of their bleak situation. He kept peering up at her and his heart sank. He had promised his dead parents that he’d always look after Sunny. “You are the eldest Baudelaire child, “ they had said to him kindly but firmly, “And as the eldest, it will always be your responsibility to look after your baby sister. Promise us that you will always watch out for her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Klaus remembered his promise and thought of Sunny, how she was now dangling from the top of the tower like a flag. He began to quietly sob. When he had made that promise, he had never imagined it would be so difficult. Especially this soon in her life. He thought the difficult times would be when she was a teenager and he had to fight off some piece of shit that she wanted to date. But it was difficult nowadays. Without his parents, he was all Sunny had. It pained him to see her growing up in a way that was miserable, cruel, volatile and dangerous. Even though Count Olaf was the cause of all their misery, Klaus felt as if he had broken his promise to his parents and vowed to make it right.

Believe it or not, it took the Baudelaire parents six weeks to get Klaus to even agree to that promise. Six weeks of Sunny’s life had passed before Klaus took their request seriously. You see, before Sunny was born, Klaus had everything. He had his parents' undivided attention and he had all the time and quiet in the world to read every book from the Baudelaire library. It had been paradise being the only child of two kind, loving, attentive and caring parents.

So when Sunny came along, you can imagine how Klaus had initially reacted. He had spent the last eleven or so years as their parents' pride and joy, and now someone else was stealing his spotlight, his attention. Klaus hated it. Whenever he wanted to spend time with one or both of his parents, they would bring Sunny along. When he was trying to read his day away, some days he couldn’t because of Sunny’s constant crying or his parents were constantly interrupting and asking him to help with his new baby sister.

There were some days within those first six weeks where Klaus would stand outside Sunny’s room with his arms folded across his chest, wearing a face of pure jealousy and contempt as he gazed on in.

Some days Klaus thought of ways to get his parents undivided attention back. He was so desperate for their attention that Klaus, one time, had contemplated purposely falling down the stairs just to have his parents rush to him instead of Sunny. He ultimately decided against it because he was afraid he’d actually hurt himself but he never stopped scheming.

The day that his feelings towards Sunny changed had been a truly scary one. Klaus had been tasked with babysitting while their parents went to get a few things at the store. His mother pleaded for her son to take this job seriously, while his father tried explaining to him that as Sunny gets older, she is going to look to him as her hero, her role model, and even her best friend. At the time, this barely phased Klaus. He barely looked up from his book. Once they left, Klaus did, however, go to his usual spot in the doorway of Sunny’s room, to keep a closer eye. He stood against the door frame reading his book. About five minutes later he heard a weird, unnatural sound coming from Sunny’s crib. Sunny was a biter, even at six weeks, anything she could grab, she’d bite. So when Klaus casually walked over to investigate the strange noise coming from his baby sister’s crib, he wasn’t too surprised to see she was choking.

Quickly, in a panicked state, Klaus threw his book on the floor and rushed to Sunny’s aide. He closed his eyes trying to remember what to do in situations like this. You see, during the Baudelaire mother’s pregnancy with her youngest daughter, she would often ask her son to read to her. She would always hand him a book about babies or a book pertaining to the topic of infant care. Although Klaus knew exactly what his mother was doing, he would always begrudgingly agree because it was one of his favorite ways to hang out with either parent.

As he closed his eyes, everything Klaus had read about babies came to the forefront of his mind. Quickly but gently, he adjusted Sunny properly and maneuvered his index finger into her mouth like a hook. He had read patting a choking baby’s back could actually make the situation much worse by lodging the object further down the baby’s throat, this method was better to dislodge whatever it was blocking her airway.

Seconds began to feel like minutes and mere minutes began to feel like hours as he saw Sunny’s face slightly turn purple. Klaus’ heart sank and he could feel his eyes beginning to water. He just kept whispering ‘no’ out loud to himself.

Finally, Klaus was able to grasp the choking hazard and remove it from Sunny’s airway. He threw the piece of broken rattle on the nightstand next to her crib and watched in delight as his sister’s face turned from purple to red to her normal skin tone back to red as she began to wail. Klaus slowly picked her up and began rocking her gently in his arms.

“Shhhh… it’s okay. Everything is okay, Sunny. Big brother is right here...I’m never gonna let anything bad happen to you. Ever. ” He cooed to her as he rocked her. Eventually, she began to calm down and her cries turned into giggles as she smiled up at him.

He smiled back down at her, “You know, you’re not half bad.” he said shifting her in one arm and beginning to clean up pieces of broken rattle that had fallen in her crib. “You’ve got a good set of teeth on you...but you gotta be more careful.”

Sunny only looked up at him confused but smiled a big toothy smile and it effectively melted Klaus’ heart. She continued to stare up at her big brother, smiling and giggling, even playfully reaching for his glasses. He held her close to him, “I promise you, Sunny. I will always be here you and I will never let anyone or anything hurt you.” He told her as he sat down on the rocking chair and began to read his book aloud to Sunny.

Klaus had been so lost in that moment that he didn’t realize that his parents had come home and quietly stood in the doorway watching their two children bonding. It was only when Klaus had finished reading the book that he looked up to see his parents smiling at their two children.

“I am ready to take my promise seriously, Mother,” Klaus said and his parents had recited the promise for the last time and this time Klaus had promised them. He had promised them that he would always look out for her no matter what.

After that incident, Klaus took his job as Sunny’s big brother very seriously. Sunny was rarely out of his sight. He read to her every day and every night. They played fetch when Sunny did not want to be read to. He even started to teach her how to talk and read. He understood she was a baby but he wanted her to be well-off. During the days, he’d read her books that he wanted to read and when he read her to sleep, he would read more age-appropriate books. The Baudelaire parents were amazed how quickly these two became thick as thieves and they were very proud of their son for saving Sunny from choking, but both parents began to see just how neurotic Klaus had become when it came to keeping his promise to them and Sunny.

With the amount of time that Klaus had spent with his baby sister, it was no surprise to any member of the Baudelaire household that Sunny’s first word was ‘Klaus’. Followed by her personal favorites, ‘bite’, ‘mama’, ‘daddy’, and ‘book’.

Klaus sighed as he looked up at Sunny dangling in the birdcage again. He hated the fact that his baby sister had been kidnapped by their guardian and was now being used as a bargaining chip to get his greedy, filthy hands on the Baudelaire fortune. He couldn’t help but feel responsible. But what could he have done differently?  He had overheard Olaf’s ridiculous plans to kill him and Sunny via train ‘accident’. He had to tell Olaf how his plan was highly flawed. He never imagined the bastard would take Sunny captive to make Klaus more complacent. He thought maybe if he had been more complacent, or ‘better behaved’ as Olaf called it, maybe Olaf wouldn’t have felt the need to take Sunny.

Klaus began to silently sob, “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry, Father.” He said looking up at the stars in the sky. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you...but I promise I am going to fix this.”

Now Klaus Baudelaire was your stereotypical nerd. He had no athletic skill and barely any creative skills. He was more of a logical boy. As he looked around Count Olaf’s backyard looking desperately for a solution he began to ponder to himself.

“I really wish I wasn’t the eldest,” he admitted to himself shamefully. “If I had an older brother or sister, they could get us out of this situation.” He knew wishing for an older sibling was silly. It wasn’t like wishing for a younger sibling, which when his parents were alive would have always been a possibility. Older siblings, as I am sure you know, arrive on this Earth before you so if you are raised in a household where you are considered the eldest; most of the time that’s that. You are the eldest. At this moment in the case of the Baudelaire children, Klaus was the eldest. So he had to do something about his and Sunny’s current situation.

He quietly walked around the desolate, dirty backyard. Every now and then looking up to make sure no one from the tower room had spotted him and looking at the back door making sure that no one on the ground floor of the home had noticed that he was outside.

His heart sank as he began to feel as though it would be better to simply give up, how bad could living with Olaf for another six years truly be.

“I could really use an inventor of some sort. A mechanical genius,” he said to himself as he looked down and saw a broken umbrella. His mind began to race. Maybe, just maybe he could fashion this into a grappling hook and scale the tower. Klaus knew he was a shitty climber but what could he do? He had to try. He was going to need some sort of rope. He quickly glanced around the yard for the umpteenth time until his eyes noticed a long, green garden hose. Klaus knew that most garden hoses ranged from fifty to one hundred feet in length, making this perfect for climbing a thirty-foot tower.

Quickly, Klaus began to rip the remaining canopy from the umbrella’s skeleton. He then carefully tied the garden hose the best he could using a knot that his mother had taught him. He believed it was called the Devil’s Tongue. He hadn’t used this at all since she had first shown him how to tie it. He hoped that he remembered it correctly, he planned on scaling Olaf’s tower with this makeshift grappling hook. Klaus looked up at the tower again and then looked at his creation. He could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest. It was now or never. When he glanced up at the birdcage holding his baby sister, Klaus realized his plan was even more difficult than he had thought. The night was quiet, which would mean he would have to try his best to not make any sound at all.  The night also had a slight, taunting breeze, and when he pictured himself swinging in the breeze, clinging to a garden hose, he almost gave up entirely. But then he thought about the promise he had made to his parents and his baby sister and he decided that he had to try. He owed Sunny that. He owed his parents that.

Using his right hand, he threw the grappling hook as high and as hard as he could, waiting to see if it would catch onto something.

Clang! the umbrella made a loud noise as it hit the tower, but unfortunately stuck to nothing and came crashing down. Klaus stood stock-still, his heart pounding, praying that no one inside the house had heard the noise. He waited a couple of moments before trying again.

Clang! Clang ! The poorly designed grappling hook hit the tower twice and fell again. Klaus waited again, even more, terrified than before. All he could hear was his own terrified pulse. Klaus decided to try again.

Clang ! The grappling hook hit the tower and fell again, this time hitting Klaus in the shoulder. One of the arms of the umbrella tore through his shirt and cut through his skin. Klaus put his other hand over his mouth and muffled a cry. Klaus could feel that his wound was wet with blood. At this point, Klaus wanted to give up entirely. But just as he was about to turn around and head inside, he imagined just how scared Sunny must be, and ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he tried again. He tried several more times. Each throw failing to grab onto something.

The eerie night air around Klaus seemed to get colder like a menacing aura was surrounding him. Before Klaus could even react; a tall, shadowy figure violently grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him harshly against the back wall of the house. His attacker must have noticed the deep gash on his shoulder because they dug their nails deep into the wound.  Before he had a chance to fully process what was happening, the young boy started to scream in agony from the harsh pressure being placed upon his injured shoulder. A long, bony hand crawled to cover his mouth muffling his cries for help. Klaus quickly realized that he had been caught and he was now looking into the shiny, angry eyes of Count Olaf. Klaus started breathing heavily but focused on trying his best to not show Count Olaf any weakness. He hated that this vile man intimidated him. He wished he was as brave as his mother and as strong as his father. But unfortunately for Klaus, this wasn’t the case. He was quite short and puny and he hadn’t hit puberty just yet. Klaus fantasized that when it finally happens, he’d be able to kick Olaf’s ass. As the vile man held Klaus against the wall, Klaus tried to struggle to get out of Olaf’s ever-tightening grip. Olaf held him there for a few moments waiting for Klaus to quit struggling, eventually, the young boy gave up. He began to feel as small as Sunny in comparison to Olaf. He gulped as he looked up at Olaf who stared back at him with his shiny eyes.

“What do you think you are doing?” Olaf asked him through gritted teeth. Klaus, afraid he’d start crying if he answered, simply looked back at the wicked man. Olaf looked down at what Klaus was holding in his hand. “What...is... that ?”

Olaf roughly took hold of the garden hose, yanking the make-shift grappling hook from Klaus’ grasp. Still keeping a firm grip on Klaus, Olaf began to examine the invention. “Do you want to give me a reason to beat you senseless? You sniveling bookworm!”

Klaus shook his head and tried to push passed Olaf, but Olaf kept him in place. “Now what am I going to do with you?” He asked tauntingly looking at a now trembling Klaus, absentmindedly letting the grappling hook fall in front of both of their feet. “I mean, I could keep true to my promise of dropping that pipsqueak to her death ...” he watched as Klaus’ eyes went wide with fear. Klaus frantically shook his head, struggling to overpower Olaf. “...but I feel as though the death of your sister would be letting you off easily.”

Olaf pondered for a few moments on what to do, he then looked down at the grappling hook that Klaus had constructed, menacingly he looked up at Klaus with a wicked grin, Olaf grabbed the poorly constructed invention. “Maybe your little creation will be useful after all,” Olaf said grabbing ahold of the umbrella and freeing it from the garden hose. He applied more pressure to the hand that was covering Klaus’ mouth. He stepped closer to the terrified young boy, and using the strength in his upper legs, Olaf kept the boy against the wall. Olaf simply smirked at the trembling boy as he pressed the rusty tip of one of the umbrella’s stretchers onto the right side of Klaus’ chest and began to slowly and agonizingly pierce Klaus’ skin. Olaf was applying enough pressure that the metal easily ripped through Klaus’ nightshirt and was making full contact with his skin.

Klaus tried his best to scream but Olaf applied more pressure to his hand that was covering Klaus’ mouth. All of Klaus’ cries for help were muffled against the villain’s cold, cruel hand.  Klaus felt every ounce of agony as Olaf was ripping his skin apart. Klaus began to struggle against Olaf’s grip but it did nothing but increase his pain.

“You know, struggling is only gonna make it worse,” Olaf said taunting the poor boy. Klaus could feel his eyes watering and his chest bleeding. Blood was slowly dripping down Klaus’ chest on to his pants and shoes. The sight of his own blood was utterly terrifying. All he could think about was that he was done for. This is it. Olaf was going to kill him, right here, right now. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he felt like his chest was going to explode.

He continued to struggle against Olaf’s grasp but to no avail. Olaf kept his grasp on both Klaus and the umbrella and continued to pierce Klaus’ chest ignoring the boy’s muffled pleads. “You feel that? This is exactly what Hooky’s hooks are going to feel like when he tears you and that baby limb from limb!” Olaf whispered harshly into Klaus’ ear.

Klaus felt utterly trapped. It didn’t help that Olaf’s yard was dimly lit and Olaf had him against one of the walls furthest away from any light. No neighboring houses could see what was happening to him. No witnesses. Knowing Olaf, he had a plan to get rid of all the evidence. Klaus feared that Olaf was going to kill him and take Sunny far, far away until she came of age to give him the fortune. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen to his baby sister once he was out of the picture.

Once Olaf had reached the end of his stomach with the umbrella, Klaus looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Now, have you learned your lesson yet?” Olaf asked him in a belittling voice. Klaus nodded his head frantically while trying to use all of his strength to push Olaf away from him. Olaf using the hand that was already muffling Klaus’ screams, extended his fingers so that they were grasping Klaus’ entire face harshly. Then the cruel man dug his sharp, dirty fingernails into Klaus’ face, applying pressure to both cheeks and slammed his head to the back of the wall. “I don’t think you have.”

Olaf took a brief moment to look at his handiwork. Klaus’ wound was pretty deep, not too deep to kill the boy, but deep enough to be considered a gash rather than a mere scratch. Olaf smiled at the fact that Klaus’ chest was painted red with his blood. The slight breeze of the night was also not helping Klaus because as it came in contact with his wound, it sent severe chills throughout Klaus’ body. Every aspect of this experience felt like pure Hell to Klaus. Klaus tried to look into Olaf’s shiny eyes looking for an ounce of humanity.

Klaus gave wide eyes and Olaf jabbed the tip of the broken umbrella back on his chest in the exact same spot he had started. “ ...please... ” he cried trying desperately to plead with Olaf. His vision rapidly blurred, his eyes were getting watery,  the image of his assailant became a darkened silhouette. Klaus pleaded as his eyes threatened to close due to his body’s shock taking over.

Olaf began to trace the cut he had previously made while smiling wickedly at Klaus. Klaus began pleading for help but Olaf immediately put his hand back over Klaus’ mouth. “You see, I knew you hadn’t learned your lesson, yet. You’re still being very disobedient. But that’s okay, I know just how to fix your delinquent behavior.”

Klaus began to hit the side of the house with his fists, hoping that it would get the attention of someone inside. Sure, the only people inside the house were Count Olaf’s dreadful theatre troupe, but maybe if one of them came outside and witnessed this, either he’d stop or they’d say something to convince him to stop. But to Klaus’ misfortune, no one came. No one came to his rescue. Klaus could feel his chest still bleeding and wondered when Olaf would stop. This was all too much for the young twelve-year-old. Klaus’ eyes continued to threaten unconsciousness but his mind kept racing back to Sunny. He couldn’t leave her. Not with this asshole. He had to power through this. Even if  Olaf was tearing him apart, literally, he couldn’t let this rat bastard win.

Klaus’ face was heavily soaked with his tears. His head was not only throbbing from the intense pain he was enduring, but also from when Olaf slammed it against the brick wall of his house. He was losing the feeling in his legs as they began to wobble and jerk violently. Olaf noticing that Klaus was near the point of unconsciousness, he moved his hand from the orphan boy’s mouth and harshly slapped him to bring him back to reality. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this so easily.” He said chillingly.

“...please... ” Klaus said again, the only thing he could even think of saying to this violent and psychotic man. Klaus closed his eyes as Olaf lifted his weapon, striking the already bruised shoulder. Klaus felt his shoulder starting to bleed all over again. Klaus sighed in relief as Olaf dropped his weapon. It was over. It was finally over.

Olaf using his free hand applied pressure to Klaus’ wounds making Klaus violently shake and try to get away from him. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” the vicious man asked finally releasing Klaus from the wall, allowing Klaus to fall to his knees. Klaus began to sob, but he sobbed quietly into his own hands. Fully fearing what Olaf would do if he even attempted to scream for help. Olaf knelt down and roughly grabbed Klaus by the hair and lifted his face to look at Olaf’s. “ You best hope I don’t find a way to obtain that fucking fortune quicker...because if and when I do, I will kill you and that insufferable biting brat… ” Olaf whispered chillingly. “ ...in the cruelest way imaginable. You think that was bad...oooh...try another rescue attempt.”

Klaus merely nodded avoiding any sort of eye contact. He was defeated. He had no fight left in him. He just wanted Olaf to leave him the fuck alone. He believed wholeheartedly that if Olaf didn’t stop soon, he would not be able to handle this and he’d die. He didn’t want to die, and not for the reasons you would think. Klaus Baudelaire did not want to die because he did not want to leave his baby sister alone with this monster.

“Look at me when I am fucking talking to you, four-eyes.” Olaf hissed picking up the umbrella again. Klaus looked up at Olaf with wide eyes and backed away as fast as he could from his abusive guardian. Olaf simply followed him holding the umbrella in the moonlight. Klaus began to cry, completely in shell shock. He didn’t want Olaf to use his invention on him again. He guarded his chest with his arms as softly as he could, trying to not apply any pressure whatsoever.

“Now let me make myself abundantly clear...” Olaf hissed, “the next time that you do anything to remotely piss me off , down will come baby birdcage and all. Now, do I make myself clear, orphan?”

Klaus nodded looking up at Sunny’s birdcage. All he wanted was for her to be safe. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he simply wanted to save his baby sister.

Olaf stepped in front of the young boy successfully towering over him and now blocking his view of his baby sister’s cage. “Oh, and not only will I kill her. I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.” He knelt grabbing Klaus’ face one last time. “And with her dead, you’ll be the one I need to keep alive. So just imagine what I’ll do to you then. You think this is bad...it can get much, much worse.” He roughly threw Klaus’ face to the ground. Klaus was now worried that Count Olaf was never going to leave him be. What else could he do to the poor boy? He had already severely injured him and cut him. Klaus felt as though the cold metal was still against his skin, ripping him ever so slowly.

Olaf smiled down at the young boy as he could see the fear that escaped the child’s eyes. He had successfully broken Klaus. He raised his arm as if to smack Klaus and watched with pure bliss as Klaus retreated and flinched. “Well, it seems you have finally learned your lesson,” Olaf said patting Klaus on the head as if he were a dog who just learned a new trick and not a young child that he had severely abused and traumatized.  Klaus started to shake in fear and didn’t even look at Olaf. He didn’t glare. He didn’t talk back. He just sat there and trembled. “Now, get your ass inside and tend to your wounds. I can’t have you dying on me.”

Klaus shuffled to his feet as quickly as he could. Walking quickly passed Olaf and most of his troupe members who had been watching from the back door. Klaus glared at each troupe member, who had stood there watching silently as the scene had unfolded. How could they have not helped him? How could they condone this? He could ignore them allowing Olaf to merely slap him or even beat him. But to stand there and let Olaf cut him with a rusty umbrella and slap him around was inexcusable. Klaus wanted them all to burn in hell. He wanted each of them to suffer the way he had just suffered. The only troupe member that had not been at the back door was the Hook-handed Man, who was presumably still upstairs guarding the tower room. He may have been nice enough to give Sunny her blanket, but Klaus doubted he would have stopped Olaf. Klaus believed he would have helped Olaf. Olaf followed slowly behind him bringing in the umbrella. Klaus didn’t know whether Olaf was hiding evidence or keeping it close by to threaten Klaus with. Olaf turned to his troupe with a triumphant smile. “Now who wants more wine!”

Klaus slowly trudged up the stairs, his entire body feeling like he was slowly dying. He passed by the Hook-handed man who just looked at him with wide eyes. Klaus thought he was hallucinating because it looked like he wore a look of concern on his face. He held up a hook, Klaus couldn’t tell if it was a threat or his way of motioning for Klaus to hold on. The henchman walked off quickly, Klaus decided to wait. He used this time to garner up the strength to continue up the stairs to his attic bedroom. Just as he decided to push through the pain, the henchman returned with what looked like a self-made first-aid kit. He didn’t say anything, he handed the pitiful first-aid kit to the boy. He put one of his hooks up to his lips as if to tell Klaus to say nothing about this to anyone. Before he had a chance to reply, the hook-handed man turned to leave. Klaus frowned as the man left him alone.

He was all alone. He didn’t have either one of his parents, nor did he have Sunny to comfort him. After several minutes of climbing the stairs slowly, he was trying to maneuver with the least amount of movement as possible. Klaus reached the room and began to tend to his wounds.

End of chapter note:

The reason that I even wrote this in was for several reasons.

1. To make y'all hate Olaf even more than you had. 2. To make him a bigger, better threat against the children. Gotta make my villain scary, y'all. 3. To keep y'all on your toes. 4. I was in a dark place when I wrote this and part of me regrets it but another part of me is truly intrigued by just how dark and horrifying I went. 5. This creates more of a character arc for Klaus and helps me change future books like Reptile Room, Miserable Mill, Austere Academy, and Hostile Hospital to name a few.

Please note that I do NOT like torturing children, fictional or not and it was truly hard to write this chapter. I even asked my bestie for help since she is into darker movies and shows. She also has no emotional connection to any of the characters and she found that editing this with me was fun. So she might help me with my darker chapters.

Thank you again. Sorry if this has disturbed anyone.

[lovevjejrama-blog]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦 𝟏𝟎: 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟐

a. A difference between oral cultures and literary cultures is their delivery. Literary cultures are based on grammar rather than epithets. Because writing actively avoids redundancy, they omit words and phrases that they deem unnecessary. Also, oral cultures must repeat important points in relating a story as there is no record of the speech. Meanwhile, a person from a literary culture processes words in a much more detailed fashion; it can reorganize words and terms, avoiding redundancies in his speech.

b. The intersubjectivity of communication is the relation between sender and receiver. A way to illustrate this is when people talk to each other. They have to be both sender and receiver at one point or another during their conversation. We can separate media communication from this as media is designed to provide information in sort of a one-way process, very rarely expecting response from a viewer or a listener, therefore, there is no real understanding between the media and its audience.

c. The media model of communication shows chirographic conditioning through a one-way method of giving news and information. Both sender and receiver are stapled to their roles for a specific amount of time. Unlike oral communication, writing does not need personal interaction between the sender and receiver. For this reason, media is a powerful tool for providing news and articles without facing the audience. It uses writing as a mechanism to spread information without really expecting any feedback.

d. The fast and modern lifestyle of people have shaped the industry of making and sharing news. As gadgets and appliances are constantly being updated and upgraded, the sharing of information has also changed its course. The once dominant newspaper brands are now taking to the Internet to share their headlines. Radio and television stations are now also uploading their recorded programs online. The evolution of media is driven by the changing landscape of communication. People are seeking for faster and more convenient ways to get information and so companies are urged to comply to their needs.

e. The digitization of media can mean both good and bad things to producers and consumers alike. On one hand, the digitization can offer work for people who are learned in the virtual industry, but can disrupt those who are in the print industry. Consumers must also acquire updated versions of their gadgets in order to access the information offered by the producers. To obtain faster and more convenient ways to connect, people must compromise and get the latest update of technology.

f. A pro of media accessibility would of course be its fast and more convenient nature. Nowadays, sharing of media is easier and more straight to the point. Consumers who have something to say just needs to follow a few set of steps to share their opinions because media sites are readily available in their hands. On the other hand, easier sharing of media makes it difficult to filter content in the Internet, with various types of media, from dog videos to pornography, floating around in different websites.

g. According to Burnett and Marshall, convergence is the "blending of the media, telecommunications, and computer industries." In a way, traditional media is described as a separate and individual type of media, such as television is mainly for videos and newspaper is for print. Media convergence blurs the boundaries between different media platforms. For me convergent media should be considered to be under the categories of new media as it is the updated and more accessible form of media, spanning different platforms, from old and trusty television and newspapers to the relatively new types like newsletters and advertisements.

h. Convergent media can help small and struggling individuals by making their stories and hardships a part of a larger account. For example, one can find an unlikely and supportive group for depressed kids on the Internet if he tried hard enough. As convergent media surpasses almost every type of traditional media, a person can easily assert his presence in a more magnified manner. If someone posts something on a website and that post can be shared onto other sites and place, even outside of the Internet, that individual will have a reach far beyond the grasps of traditional media.

i. Orality and literacy have a very distinct difference and that is how individuals share information. Orally, one can be a speaker and a listener, while in a writing context, the writer is just, in a way, a speaker. In relation, traditional media uses a one-way manner of sharing information, while convergent media encourages interaction from its consumers. Considering this trend, I assume media companies in the future would strive to be more interactive and, if possible, more assertive, with their audiences. In this era of technology, one can only imagine where communication could take us in the future.

j. Bitzer defined the rhetorical situation as something that involves people, events, and relations, which has social importance and prompts discourse between the people involved that can bring about change and development. To say that a rhetoric is situational, it must spark rhetorical discourse, which is a natural response to a situation. Speech must also be considered and given rhetorical significance.

k. Bitzer mentioned that in order for a situation to be considered rhetorical, it must have three elements: the exigence, which is the significance of the subject; the audience, which introduces the discourse, decisions, and actions; and lastly, the constraints, which the audience should overcome before coming to a decision.

l. As I have mentioned in class, the broadest issue that concerns everyone today is the struggles our farmers are facing right now. We might not be as mindful as we should be, but we are all vaguely aware that the food on our tables comes from the hard work of our farmers. As they are contained in their villages, most of them don't have access to smartphones or even television, and so it is up to us to shed light upon their struggles and how their rights are being stepped on by these cruel and opportunistic capitalists.

m.i. The first strategy discussed was taking and avoiding sides. There is also the regrouping of a composite audience and formulating common categories and addressing them as one. It is also mentioned that some politicians address the audience as an undetermined future, in which there is no concrete rhetorical in-group in the narrative. Some politicians claim membership to a certain category or social identities and addressing himself as though he is one of them. Lastly, politicians use a strategy in which their words have a certain kind of flexibility that could be applied to different in-groups in a composite audience.

m.ii. The most common persuasive strategy used by politicians during political campaigns would be taking the side of the common people. Addressing oneself as part of the people who has the power to put and keep you in position seems to be the most logical thing to do. I've also seen politicians claim allegiance to specific in-groups in the society, such as the minorities (LGBT+ and indigenous tribes). In more recent times, I've witnessed people who are running for position being careful to please both the masses and the current people in power, manifesting the "avoiding sides" strategy.

m.iii. For me, public speeches are very important in a political campaign. It is the avenue to speak to the audience personally and to answer whatever questions they may have. But I'm also skeptical enough to not believe everything that they say. Knowing that these political strategies are on play whenever they face the public, I turn to their track records and analyze if what they're saying are matching with their credentials. I can't say whether a strategy is effective or not, as I am only one person, but I must admit it's very interesting to what these politicians have to say.

[the-serendipityblog-blog]

Instagram Without Moderation Is Unhealthy

You’re standing outside waiting for your ride to pick you up. They said they’d be there in five minutes. There’s no one you know around. What do you do?

a) Go to a random person and try to become their friend.

b) Pull out the book you’ve been reading.

c) Start scrolling through Instagram

Odds are, you chose C. (And if you didn’t then congratulations, you are in the minority.) In the twenty-first century, we humans have become so dependent on technology, maybe even addicted, and the worst one of them all is social media (in my opinion). At first, these websites and apps―Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, etc.― were created so people could stay in touch with more distant friends and family whom they couldn’t visit as often. Nowadays, it is a tool for stalking, comparing, starting fights, inducing jealousy, causing insecurities, and a lot more. Here are some ways social media, specifically Instagram, do more harm than good. These are all things I know from my own experience, another person’s experience, or through research.

Lowers self-esteem. This one is quite obvious since many people have talked about and experienced this before, but it really is a big deal. This study shows that social media use and depression are highly correlated. You must know about all the Instagram models, who literally get paid just to be pretty. (Okay, that was kind of an exaggeration, but you get the idea.) They are usually making a cute pose by the beach in their $300 bikini, showing off their flawless curves and tan skin as the sunlight hits their face perfectly. A photo like this would earn them around $3,000 to $5,000. Of course, the average female does not look like this. A study done by Clark University states that women who looked at images of slender models “produced lower self-esteem and satisfaction with their weight as compared to women viewing more robust models”. Constantly being bombarded with these supposedly “perfect” images of women will influence us to believe that this is how we are supposed to look. If we do not size 00, weighing 90 pounds, donning clear and glowing skin, and flashing a pearly white smile, then we are doing something wrong. Basically, this creates a false definition of beauty. One must look exactly like the models or celebrities on Instagram, or they are not pretty. If we check Instagram right when we wake up, right before we go to bed, and any other extra time in the day, that’s a couple hundred photos per day. Out of those, if about half of them are pictures of “perfect girls” that’s a lot of negative influence. (Unless you’re like me and only follow meme pages.) It’s basically becoming ingrained into our heads how we are supposed to look. Every picture of a girl with unattainable beauty standards is a message that says, “Look at this beautiful girl. It sucks you don’t look like that. Guess you’re not pretty.” I can say from my personal experience that after scrolling through Instagram for a few hours, I definitely feel a lot more insecure and unhappy with my life. It is very unhealthy to feel forced to conform to these false standards.

Causes jealousy. Another negative thing about Instagram is that it causes jealousy. “I can’t believe she went to the Maldives over spring break” or “Why did she get more likes than me? I’m way prettier than her.” The thing about social media is that you can see what everyone else is doing, what they have, who they hang out with, etc. Without social media, there isn’t much of a way to know these things unless someone actually brags about it. That’s what social media is. It’s just a socially acceptable way to brag about what you have or pretend to have. Just because someone is wearing an expensive outfit doesn’t mean they’re rich. They could just be trying on clothes in the dressing room and taking in a selfie in it with no intention of actually buying it. Just because they are constantly posting pictures of them with other people doesn’t mean they are popular or they have a lot of friends. A lot of it is staged. Yes, there are some genuine people and posts on Instagram, but from my experience, I can say that they are a minority. It sort of reminds me of KUWTK. A reality show that isn’t actually “real”. They act like it’s real, but actually, a lot of it is staged for attention. They don’t show you everything, they only show you what they want you to see. And obviously who wouldn’t want other people to think they are popular, pretty, and rich. Of course, I would like it if people thought of me like that. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I am actually like that. When you go on Instagram and see everyone having an amazing time, portraying a perfect life, that doesn’t mean their whole life is perfect. They are just showing random glimpses of when it is. Seeing all these false perceptions of perfect lives makes you feel worse about your own, and jealous of everyone you know. “Everyone’s lives are amazing. My life totally sucks compared to that.” If people posted everything that happened in their life, and not just what they want you to see, it wouldn’t be anything to be jealous of at all. Not everyone will look cute right when they wake up. Not everyone gets to constantly travel over the world. Not everyone gets to wear designer clothes with professionally done makeup. Everyone has insecurities and hardships. Nobody’s life is perfect, no matter how perfect it may seem.

Provides a distraction. I’m very sure you all know about this one without me having to explain it. Instagram is a distraction. So is all social media. The constant notifications of likes, follows, comments, direct messages, and more, the constant thinking about what your next post is going to be, the application just sitting there, constantly bugging you like a scratch that needs to be itched. You know that horrible feeling of regret you feel after scrolling through your feed for hours when you’re supposed to be doing something else. I remember when I was in middle school, being new to Instagram, I would come home from school and spend several hours scrolling through my feed, explore page, and stalking other blogs until I felt groggy and my eyes burned, not even starting my homework until after dinner. Now, I rarely ever check it, and I rarely ever want to check it. Partially because I’ve had it for a long time and it’s not as new and exciting anymore, but also because I made a conscious effort to take a detox from it after realizing this is such a horrible way to spend so many hours of my life. Not only is Instagram a distraction, but it is a bad distraction. Hanging out with friends, for example, is a distraction, but it is a way better distraction than scrolling through confidence-reducing, insecurity-producing, jealousy-causing Instagram. It’s like a lose-lose situation. You’re wasting time and feeling worse about yourself.

Defined by a number. Nowadays, people’s worth is measured by numbers on Instagram. How popular you are depends on the number of followers you have, how pretty you are depends on the number of likes you get on a selfie, how amazing your life is determined by how often you post, and this is absolutely false. I know for a fact that at least two-thirds of my current Instagram followers are totally random people who don’t know me in real life. And only about 10 percent of my followers actually “like” my photos. Does that mean I’m unpopular or ugly? Not necessarily. People are constantly checking their photo right after posting it to see how many likes it received and deleting it if it doesn’t get enough. They try so hard to gain followers by asking random people to follow them for a follow back or promoting their account in the comment section of a popular photo. Have you ever looked at someone’s profile and thought “Wow they don’t have many followers. They must be a loser who doesn’t have any friends,” or do you think “Wow they don’t have many followers. They must not use Instagram very often.”? This shows that this fear of being judged by a number is an irrational thought that isn’t very true at all.

Creates pressure. I’ve already partially covered this topic in the previous four topics because they are all forms of pressure. When a person has an active personal Instagram account, they tend to feel obligated to post constantly and update their followers with their lives. Now, with Instagram stories, users can give hourly updates on what they’re doing, similar to Snapchat. While experiencing a fun event or going to an aesthetic or picturesque place, they feel pressured to take a good picture to post. I am so guilty of this. Every time I go anywhere that has potential to make a nice Instagram photo I suddenly feel stressed out because I feel as if I have a 100-point homework assignment to take an Instagram worthy photo in five minutes and if I am not able to, I feel really disappointed like I wasted my opportunity. I have been making a conscious effort lately to relax a little more when it comes to Instagram photos and not stress out so much about visiting a place without taking a photo. Sometimes it’s healthy to just live in the moment instead of worrying about documenting it.

Those were a few of the many reasons why excessive Instagramming is unhealthy. Don’t get me wrong―Instagram is a great tool and it’s totally okay use it regularly, but in excess, it can be harmful. Moderating how much time we spend on this app, and how much we let it and the people on it affect us can help Instagram be just an app and not a source of stress and unhappiness.

[animationevents-blog]

Benefits Of Using Photo Booths In Parties

A long time before photo booths arrived to use, it had been present with ask photography lovers to consider photos during occasions. Photography lovers needed to grapple with a lot of shortcomings, particularly if the event had a lot of visitors. The only real solution available then ended up being to use several photographers, though it didn't solve all of the problems. Some problems still endured regardless of photographers using digital camera models.

Camera does accelerate producing prints, but it's not quick enough to provide your visitors an immediate print. They should be processed a little, though nothing like in film-based cameras. Typically, images taken in digital camera models are used in a pc, after a makeover (minor) they're printed on photo taking papers. Therefore, a period lag between your duration of going for a snap and delivery is inevitable.

Though this really is apparently simple, and also the only casualty seems to become time, hosts wound up spending substantially on mailing expenses. Another casualty was time hosts lost in sorting printouts. Time wasted really was incredible. Inside a busy world where we live nowadays, it might be unimaginable doing all of this by hand (neither can machines get it done). The appearance of photo booth rentals has altered the ways that we make photographs at parties and weddings, as well as at corporate conferences and celebrations.

The benefits of photo booths are that, you do not need a professional photographer as well as your visitors get printouts instantly. Like a host, it will save you time and money. It's not necessary to possess a photo booth to benefit from onpar gps. Actually consumers don't own photo whatsoever, because, they're heavy, hard to store and wish a specialist attendant which is generally an issue. Therefore, it is prudent to make contact with Photo Booth Rentals Company inside your location.

Magic mirror photo booth hire in surrey come in several sizes and configurations. Particular kinds are particularly helpful for weddings, some for parties but still some which are especially designed for use within home situations such as mothering sunday celebration. Size matters a great deal, if you are planning for doing things inside. You'll have to check whether your house's door is very large enough to usher in a Professional photographer and whether it may be covered within the elevator if you reside in a condominium.

There's two kinds of photo booths that you could order on rental - open type or closed type. Open types would be best suited to parties and open-air celebrations - inside a garden for instance. They are able to accommodate large groups (8 or even more people). It's quite common for users to buy packaged rental. The advantages of packaged rental are - it will save you money, the rental company offers an attendant, they take proper care of expenses associated with transporting and installing, and also you know in advance the entire expense.

Another items to try looking in packaged rental are - wedding session time, quantity of strips incorporated within the rental, price of additional strips, price of special backdrops, and price of Halloween. Never get transported away by offers which are impossible for that rental companies to provide. Obtain a quote prior to ordering a photograph booth.

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company part 1

*****WARNING! WARNING!*****

Dear Readers,

I hate to inform you but my extensive research on the Baudelaire case takes a turn for the worst in this chapter. Within this chapter, you will come across depictions of graphic child abuse. This chapter contains mild gore, violence, physical abuse of a minor, torture, threats of violence. If you have a weak stomach or are easily squeamish, I would advise skipping that section of this chapter.  

The section in question begins a few paragraphs after Klaus starts throwing his grappling hook. [Indicated by the word Clang!] and ends at the end of the chapter. Please read with caution. Sorry for any disturbing imagery.

[Also note, If you find that you cannot finish this chapter or even attempt to read the section that I am warning you about, I am willing to explain in less detail what happens that way you are aware of the events that take place in this chapter. Just reach out and let me know.]

Tread cautiously. Thank you all who support me and this fic. I hope I don't disturb you too much.

With all love and respect,

-Susan

                                            Chapter Eight:

                        The One With Klaus’ Failed Rescue Attempt

If Klaus Baudelaire had to pick a day that was the worst day of his life, he would’ve picked today as that day. Before Count Olaf had kidnapped Sunny and shoved her into a birdcage, Klaus would have chosen the day his parents had perished in that terrible fire, but this seemed worse somehow. The rest of the day was pure Hell for Klaus as he did all of his backbreaking and tedious chores under the watchful eyes of either Count Olaf or one of his vile troupe members. It was night time and they had finally left Klaus alone. He was in his attic bedroom pacing back and forth. He had gotten Sunny into this mess by outsmarting Olaf about inheritance law and now he had to outsmart him again and rescue Sunny. But he couldn’t form any sort of plan.

Klaus looked around the room for anything helpful but stopped in his tracks when he had noticed Sunny’s diaper bag. He could see her baby blanket was on the top of it and he frowned. He imagined being that high up within a metal birdcage must have been cold. He grabbed the blanket and headed up the curving stairs of the tower room. He was not surprised to see sitting in front of the door was the Hook Handed Man who looked up from his game of Solitaire and glared at the boy.

“What are you doing here?” He asked still glaring at the boy.

“I...I was wondering if I could give my sister her baby blanket. I thought she might be cold.” Klaus said not looking at the man.

“Boss said you’re not allowed in this room under any circumstances. You shouldn’t even be on this staircase.”

Klaus frowned but held out the blanket. He remembered that this man was the only one of Olaf’s vile theatre troupe that seemed worried for Sunny when Olaf was balancing her above his head using only one hand. “Could...could you give it to her? It must be awfully cold.”

At first, he shook his head at the young boy, eventually going back to his card game. Klaus sighed, “Do you have a sister?”

Surprisingly the Hook Handed Man looked up at the boy with a big frown on his face. He simply nodded.

“Is she younger?” Klaus asked as the Hook Handed Man nodded again. “Well, can you do me this favor. Big brother to big brother. Hell, if you don’t want to do this for me, can you do it for her. For Sunny.”

After several moments of contemplation, the Hook Handed Man stood up and reached for the blanket gently. Klaus gave him a small smile. “...C-c-can you tell her that I love her and that I am sorry.” Klaus pleaded trying his best to hold back tears.

The man just nodded, “Will do.” he said as he entered the tower room locking the door behind him. Klaus whispered a quick ‘thank you’ and raced down the stairs of the tower room. He headed back to his attic room and began pacing around the room again.

He knew he had to spring into action, he also knew his best time to act would be at night when Count Olaf was either too busy drinking to pay attention to him or asleep. So after nearly another hour of endless pacing, Klaus began to sneak his way to the backyard. His aching body pained with every slight movement but he wasn’t going to let that or his growing fear of Count Olaf stop him from saving Sunny. His baby sister needed him. He had to rescue her from that birdcage and then both of them were going to run away from this Hellhole. He didn’t know what would come of them on the streets but he imagined that anything was better than being in Count Olaf’s ‘care’.

Klaus stealthily made his way from the unfit bedroom to the backyard without being detected. He could hear Olaf in the dining room chatting about his grand victory over Klaus and Sunny, he could hear all his henchmen, except for the Hook Handed Man; whose turn it was to guard the tower room, laughing and applauding Olaf. This made Klaus sick to his stomach. How could those idiots applaud such a vile man like Olaf? Nothing Olaf had done deserved any appraisal or applause. He physically abused a twelve-year-old boy and he had locked an infant in a birdcage, he deserved to rot in jail not applause.

Klaus quietly looked around the yard, something here had to be useful to help him and his baby sister out of their bleak situation. He kept peering up at her and his heart sank. He had promised his dead parents that he’d always look after Sunny. “You are the eldest Baudelaire child, “ they had said to him kindly but firmly, “And as the eldest, it will always be your responsibility to look after your baby sister. Promise us that you will always watch out for her and make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Klaus remembered his promise and thought of Sunny, how she was now dangling from the top of the tower like a flag. He began to quietly sob. When he had made that promise, he had never imagined it would be so difficult. Especially this soon in her life. He thought the difficult times would be when she was a teenager and he had to fight off some piece of shit that she wanted to date. But it was difficult nowadays. Without his parents, he was all Sunny had. It pained him to see her growing up in a way that was miserable, cruel, volatile and dangerous. Even though Count Olaf was the cause of all their misery, Klaus felt as if he had broken his promise to his parents and vowed to make it right.

Believe it or not, it took the Baudelaire parents six weeks to get Klaus to even agree to that promise. Six weeks of Sunny’s life had passed before Klaus took their request seriously. You see, before Sunny was born, Klaus had everything. He had his parents' undivided attention and he had all the time and quiet in the world to read every book from the Baudelaire library. It had been paradise being the only child of two kind, loving, attentive and caring parents.

So when Sunny came along, you can imagine how Klaus had initially reacted. He had spent the last eleven or so years as their parents' pride and joy, and now someone else was stealing his spotlight, his attention. Klaus hated it. Whenever he wanted to spend time with one or both of his parents, they would bring Sunny along. When he was trying to read his day away, some days he couldn’t because of Sunny’s constant crying or his parents were constantly interrupting and asking him to help with his new baby sister.

There were some days within those first six weeks where Klaus would stand outside Sunny’s room with his arms folded across his chest, wearing a face of pure jealousy and contempt as he gazed on in.

Some days Klaus thought of ways to get his parents undivided attention back. He was so desperate for their attention that Klaus, one time, had contemplated purposely falling down the stairs just to have his parents rush to him instead of Sunny. He ultimately decided against it because he was afraid he’d actually hurt himself but he never stopped scheming.

The day that his feelings towards Sunny changed had been a truly scary one. Klaus had been tasked with babysitting while their parents went to get a few things at the store. His mother pleaded for her son to take this job seriously, while his father tried explaining to him that as Sunny gets older, she is going to look to him as her hero, her role model, and even her best friend. At the time, this barely phased Klaus. He barely looked up from his book. Once they left, Klaus did, however, go to his usual spot in the doorway of Sunny’s room, to keep a closer eye. He stood against the door frame reading his book. About five minutes later he heard a weird, unnatural sound coming from Sunny’s crib. Sunny was a biter, even at six weeks, anything she could grab, she’d bite. So when Klaus casually walked over to investigate the strange noise coming from his baby sister’s crib, he wasn’t too surprised to see she was choking.

Quickly, in a panicked state, Klaus threw his book on the floor and rushed to Sunny’s aide. He closed his eyes trying to remember what to do in situations like this. You see, during the Baudelaire mother’s pregnancy with her youngest daughter, she would often ask her son to read to her. She would always hand him a book about babies or a book pertaining to the topic of infant care. Although Klaus knew exactly what his mother was doing, he would always begrudgingly agree because it was one of his favorite ways to hang out with either parent.

As he closed his eyes, everything Klaus had read about babies came to the forefront of his mind. Quickly but gently, he adjusted Sunny properly and maneuvered his index finger into her mouth like a hook. He had read patting a choking baby’s back could actually make the situation much worse by lodging the object further down the baby’s throat, this method was better to dislodge whatever it was blocking her airway.

Seconds began to feel like minutes and mere minutes began to feel like hours as he saw Sunny’s face slightly turn purple. Klaus’ heart sank and he could feel his eyes beginning to water. He just kept whispering ‘no’ out loud to himself.

Finally, Klaus was able to grasp the choking hazard and remove it from Sunny’s airway. He threw the piece of broken rattle on the nightstand next to her crib and watched in delight as his sister’s face turned from purple to red to her normal skin tone back to red as she began to wail. Klaus slowly picked her up and began rocking her gently in his arms.

“Shhhh… it’s okay. Everything is okay, Sunny. Big brother is right here...I’m never gonna let anything bad happen to you. Ever.” He cooed to her as he rocked her. Eventually, she began to calm down and her cries turned into giggles as she smiled up at him.

He smiled back down at her, “You know, you’re not half bad.” he said shifting her in one arm and beginning to clean up pieces of broken rattle that had fallen in her crib. “You’ve got a good set of teeth on you...but you gotta be more careful.”

Sunny only looked up at him confused but smiled a big toothy smile and it effectively melted Klaus’ heart. She continued to stare up at her big brother, smiling and giggling, even playfully reaching for his glasses. He held her close to him, “I promise you, Sunny. I will always be here you and I will never let anyone or anything hurt you.” He told her as he sat down on the rocking chair and began to read his book aloud to Sunny.

Klaus had been so lost in that moment that he didn’t realize that his parents had come home and quietly stood in the doorway watching their two children bonding. It was only when Klaus had finished reading the book that he looked up to see his parents smiling at their two children.

“I am ready to take my promise seriously, Mother,” Klaus said and his parents had recited the promise for the last time and this time Klaus had promised them. He had promised them that he would always look out for her no matter what.

After that incident, Klaus took his job as Sunny’s big brother very seriously. Sunny was rarely out of his sight. He read to her every day and every night. They played fetch when Sunny did not want to be read to. He even started to teach her how to talk and read. He understood she was a baby but he wanted her to be well-off. During the days, he’d read her books that he wanted to read and when he read her to sleep, he would read more age-appropriate books. The Baudelaire parents were amazed how quickly these two became thick as thieves and they were very proud of their son for saving Sunny from choking, but both parents began to see just how neurotic Klaus had become when it came to keeping his promise to them and Sunny.

With the amount of time that Klaus had spent with his baby sister, it was no surprise to any member of the Baudelaire household that Sunny’s first word was ‘Klaus’. Followed by her personal favorites, ‘bite’, ‘mama’, ‘daddy’, and ‘book’.

Klaus sighed as he looked up at Sunny dangling in the birdcage again. He hated the fact that his baby sister had been kidnapped by their guardian and was now being used as a bargaining chip to get his greedy, filthy hands on the Baudelaire fortune. He couldn’t help but feel responsible. But what could he have done differently?  He had overheard Olaf’s ridiculous plans to kill him and Sunny via train ‘accident’. He had to tell Olaf how his plan was highly flawed. He never imagined the bastard would take Sunny captive to make Klaus more complacent. He thought maybe if he had been more complacent, or ‘better behaved’ as Olaf called it, maybe Olaf wouldn’t have felt the need to take Sunny.

Klaus began to silently sob, “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry, Father.” He said looking up at the stars in the sky. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you...but I promise I am going to fix this.”

Now Klaus Baudelaire was your stereotypical nerd. He had no athletic skill and barely any creative skills. He was more of a logical boy. As he looked around Count Olaf’s backyard looking desperately for a solution he began to ponder to himself.

“I really wish I wasn’t the eldest,” he admitted to himself shamefully. “If I had an older brother or sister, they could get us out of this situation.” He knew wishing for an older sibling was silly. It wasn’t like wishing for a younger sibling, which when his parents were alive would have always been a possibility. Older siblings, as I am sure you know, arrive on this Earth before you so if you are raised in a household where you are considered the eldest; most of the time that’s that. You are the eldest. At this moment in the case of the Baudelaire children, Klaus was the eldest. So he had to do something about his and Sunny’s current situation.

He quietly walked around the desolate, dirty backyard. Every now and then looking up to make sure no one from the tower room had spotted him and looking at the back door making sure that no one on the ground floor of the home had noticed that he was outside.

His heart sank as he began to feel as though it would be better to simply give up, how bad could living with Olaf for another six years truly be.

“I could really use an inventor of some sort. A mechanical genius,” he said to himself as he looked down and saw a broken umbrella. His mind began to race. Maybe, just maybe he could fashion this into a grappling hook and scale the tower. Klaus knew he was a shitty climber but what could he do? He had to try. He was going to need some sort of rope. He quickly glanced around the yard for the umpteenth time until his eyes noticed a long, green garden hose. Klaus knew that most garden hoses ranged from fifty to one hundred feet in length, making this perfect for climbing a thirty-foot tower.

Quickly, Klaus began to rip the remaining canopy from the umbrella’s skeleton. He then carefully tied the garden hose the best he could using a knot that his mother had taught him. He believed it was called the Devil’s Tongue. He hadn’t used this at all since she had first shown him how to tie it. He hoped that he remembered it correctly, he planned on scaling Olaf’s tower with this makeshift grappling hook. Klaus looked up at the tower again and then looked at his creation. He could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest. It was now or never. When he glanced up at the birdcage holding his baby sister, Klaus realized his plan was even more difficult than he had thought. The night was quiet, which would mean he would have to try his best to not make any sound at all.  The night also had a slight, taunting breeze, and when he pictured himself swinging in the breeze, clinging to a garden hose, he almost gave up entirely. But then he thought about the promise he had made to his parents and his baby sister and he decided that he had to try. He owed Sunny that. He owed his parents that.

Using his right hand, he threw the grappling hook as high and as hard as he could, waiting to see if it would catch onto something.

Clang! the umbrella made a loud noise as it hit the tower, but unfortunately stuck to nothing and came crashing down. Klaus stood stock-still, his heart pounding, praying that no one inside the house had heard the noise. He waited a couple of moments before trying again.

Clang! Clang! The poorly designed grappling hook hit the tower twice and fell again. Klaus waited again, even more, terrified than before. All he could hear was his own terrified pulse. Klaus decided to try again.

Clang! The grappling hook hit the tower and fell again, this time hitting Klaus in the shoulder. One of the arms of the umbrella tore through his shirt and cut through his skin. Klaus put his other hand over his mouth and muffled a cry. Klaus could feel that his wound was wet with blood. At this point, Klaus wanted to give up entirely. But just as he was about to turn around and head inside, he imagined just how scared Sunny must be, and ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he tried again. He tried several more times. Each throw failing to grab onto something.

The eerie night air around Klaus seemed to get colder like a menacing aura was surrounding him. Before Klaus could even react; a tall, shadowy figure violently grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him harshly against the back wall of the house. His attacker must have noticed the deep gash on his shoulder because they dug their nails deep into the wound.  Before he had a chance to fully process what was happening, the young boy started to scream in agony from the harsh pressure being placed upon his injured shoulder. A long, bony hand crawled to cover his mouth muffling his cries for help. Klaus quickly realized that he had been caught and he was now looking into the shiny, angry eyes of Count Olaf. Klaus started breathing heavily but focused on trying his best to not show Count Olaf any weakness. He hated that this vile man intimidated him. He wished he was as brave as his mother and as strong as his father. But unfortunately for Klaus, this wasn’t the case. He was quite short and puny and he hadn’t hit puberty just yet. Klaus fantasized that when it finally happens, he’d be able to kick Olaf’s ass. As the vile man held Klaus against the wall, Klaus tried to struggle to get out of Olaf’s ever-tightening grip. Olaf held him there for a few moments waiting for Klaus to quit struggling, eventually, the young boy gave up. He began to feel as small as Sunny in comparison to Olaf. He gulped as he looked up at Olaf who stared back at him with his shiny eyes.

“What do you think you are doing?” Olaf asked him through gritted teeth. Klaus, afraid he’d start crying if he answered, simply looked back at the wicked man. Olaf looked down at what Klaus was holding in his hand. “What...is...that?”

Olaf roughly took hold of the garden hose, yanking the make-shift grappling hook from Klaus’ grasp. Still keeping a firm grip on Klaus, Olaf began to examine the invention. “Do you want to give me a reason to beat you senseless? You sniveling bookworm!”

Klaus shook his head and tried to push passed Olaf, but Olaf kept him in place. “Now what am I going to do with you?” He asked tauntingly looking at a now trembling Klaus, absentmindedly letting the grappling hook fall in front of both of their feet. “I mean, I could keep true to my promise of dropping that pipsqueak to her death...” he watched as Klaus’ eyes went wide with fear. Klaus frantically shook his head, struggling to overpower Olaf. “...but I feel as though the death of your sister would be letting you off easily.”

Olaf pondered for a few moments on what to do, he then looked down at the grappling hook that Klaus had constructed, menacingly he looked up at Klaus with a wicked grin, Olaf grabbed the poorly constructed invention. “Maybe your little creation will be useful after all,” Olaf said grabbing ahold of the umbrella and freeing it from the garden hose. He applied more pressure to the hand that was covering Klaus’ mouth. He stepped closer to the terrified young boy, and using the strength in his upper legs, Olaf kept the boy against the wall. Olaf simply smirked at the trembling boy as he pressed the rusty tip of one of the umbrella’s stretchers onto the right side of Klaus’ chest and began to slowly and agonizingly pierce Klaus’ skin. Olaf was applying enough pressure that the metal easily ripped through Klaus’ nightshirt and was making full contact with his skin.

Klaus tried his best to scream but Olaf applied more pressure to his hand that was covering Klaus’ mouth. All of Klaus’ cries for help were muffled against the villain’s cold, cruel hand.  Klaus felt every ounce of agony as Olaf was ripping his skin apart. Klaus began to struggle against Olaf’s grip but it did nothing but increase his pain.

“You know, struggling is only gonna make it worse,” Olaf said taunting the poor boy. Klaus could feel his eyes watering and his chest bleeding. Blood was slowly dripping down Klaus’ chest on to his pants and shoes. The sight of his own blood was utterly terrifying. All he could think about was that he was done for. This is it. Olaf was going to kill him, right here, right now. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he felt like his chest was going to explode.

He continued to struggle against Olaf’s grasp but to no avail. Olaf kept his grasp on both Klaus and the umbrella and continued to pierce Klaus’ chest ignoring the boy’s muffled pleads. “You feel that? This is exactly what Hooky’s hooks are going to feel like when he tears you and that baby limb from limb!” Olaf whispered harshly into Klaus’ ear.

Klaus felt utterly trapped. It didn’t help that Olaf’s yard was dimly lit and Olaf had him against one of the walls furthest away from any light. No neighboring houses could see what was happening to him. No witnesses. Knowing Olaf, he had a plan to get rid of all the evidence. Klaus feared that Olaf was going to kill him and take Sunny far, far away until she came of age to give him the fortune. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen to his baby sister once he was out of the picture.

Once Olaf had reached the end of his stomach with the umbrella, Klaus looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Now, have you learned your lesson yet?” Olaf asked him in a belittling voice. Klaus nodded his head frantically while trying to use all of his strength to push Olaf away from him. Olaf using the hand that was already muffling Klaus’ screams, extended his fingers so that they were grasping Klaus’ entire face harshly. Then the cruel man dug his sharp, dirty fingernails into Klaus’ face, applying pressure to both cheeks and slammed his head to the back of the wall. “I don’t think you have.”

Olaf took a brief moment to look at his handiwork. Klaus’ wound was pretty deep, not too deep to kill the boy, but deep enough to be considered a gash rather than a mere scratch. Olaf smiled at the fact that Klaus’ chest was painted red with his blood. The slight breeze of the night was also not helping Klaus because as it came in contact with his wound, it sent severe chills throughout Klaus’ body. Every aspect of this experience felt like pure Hell to Klaus. Klaus tried to look into Olaf’s shiny eyes looking for an ounce of humanity.

Klaus gave wide eyes and Olaf jabbed the tip of the broken umbrella back on his chest in the exact same spot he had started. “...please...” he cried trying desperately to plead with Olaf. His vision rapidly blurred, his eyes were getting watery,  the image of his assailant became a darkened silhouette. Klaus pleaded as his eyes threatened to close due to his body’s shock taking over.

Olaf began to trace the cut he had previously made while smiling wickedly at Klaus. Klaus began pleading for help but Olaf immediately put his hand back over Klaus’ mouth. “You see, I knew you hadn’t learned your lesson, yet. You’re still being very disobedient. But that’s okay, I know just how to fix your delinquent behavior.”

Klaus began to hit the side of the house with his fists, hoping that it would get the attention of someone inside. Sure, the only people inside the house were Count Olaf’s dreadful theatre troupe, but maybe if one of them came outside and witnessed this, either he’d stop or they’d say something to convince him to stop. But to Klaus’ misfortune, no one came. No one came to his rescue. Klaus could feel his chest still bleeding and wondered when Olaf would stop. This was all too much for the young twelve-year-old. Klaus’ eyes continued to threaten unconsciousness but his mind kept racing back to Sunny. He couldn’t leave her. Not with this asshole. He had to power through this. Even if  Olaf was tearing him apart, literally, he couldn’t let this rat bastard win.

Klaus’ face was heavily soaked with his tears. His head was not only throbbing from the intense pain he was enduring, but also from when Olaf slammed it against the brick wall of his house. He was losing the feeling in his legs as they began to wobble and jerk violently. Olaf noticing that Klaus was near the point of unconsciousness, he moved his hand from the orphan boy’s mouth and harshly slapped him to bring him back to reality. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this so easily.” He said chillingly.

“...please...” Klaus said again, the only thing he could even think of saying to this violent and psychotic man. Klaus closed his eyes as Olaf lifted his weapon, striking the already bruised shoulder. Klaus felt his shoulder starting to bleed all over again. Klaus sighed in relief as Olaf dropped his weapon. It was over. It was finally over.

Olaf using his free hand applied pressure to Klaus’ wounds making Klaus violently shake and try to get away from him. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” the vicious man asked finally releasing Klaus from the wall, allowing Klaus to fall to his knees. Klaus began to sob, but he sobbed quietly into his own hands. Fully fearing what Olaf would do if he even attempted to scream for help. Olaf knelt down and roughly grabbed Klaus by the hair and lifted his face to look at Olaf’s. “You best hope I don’t find a way to obtain that fucking fortune quicker...because if and when I do, I will kill you and that insufferable biting brat…” Olaf whispered chillingly. “...in the cruelest way imaginable. You think that was bad...oooh...try another rescue attempt.”

Klaus merely nodded avoiding any sort of eye contact. He was defeated. He had no fight left in him. He just wanted Olaf to leave him the fuck alone. He believed wholeheartedly that if Olaf didn’t stop soon, he would not be able to handle this and he’d die. He didn’t want to die, and not for the reasons you would think. Klaus Baudelaire did not want to die because he did not want to leave his baby sister alone with this monster.

“Look at me when I am fucking talking to you, four-eyes.” Olaf hissed picking up the umbrella again. Klaus looked up at Olaf with wide eyes and backed away as fast as he could from his abusive guardian. Olaf simply followed him holding the umbrella in the moonlight. Klaus began to cry, completely in shell shock. He didn’t want Olaf to use his invention on him again. He guarded his chest with his arms as softly as he could, trying to not apply any pressure whatsoever.

“Now let me make myself abundantly clear...” Olaf hissed, “the next time that you do anything to remotely piss me off, down will come baby birdcage and all. Now, do I make myself clear, orphan?”

Klaus nodded looking up at Sunny’s birdcage. All he wanted was for her to be safe. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he simply wanted to save his baby sister.

Olaf stepped in front of the young boy successfully towering over him and now blocking his view of his baby sister’s cage. “Oh, and not only will I kill her. I’ll gut you like a fucking fish.” He knelt grabbing Klaus’ face one last time. “And with her dead, you’ll be the one I need to keep alive. So just imagine what I’ll do to you then. You think this is bad...it can get much, much worse.” He roughly threw Klaus’ face to the ground. Klaus was now worried that Count Olaf was never going to leave him be. What else could he do to the poor boy? He had already severely injured him and cut him. Klaus felt as though the cold metal was still against his skin, ripping him ever so slowly.

Olaf smiled down at the young boy as he could see the fear that escaped the child’s eyes. He had successfully broken Klaus. He raised his arm as if to smack Klaus and watched with pure bliss as Klaus retreated and flinched. “Well, it seems you have finally learned your lesson,” Olaf said patting Klaus on the head as if he were a dog who just learned a new trick and not a young child that he had severely abused and traumatized.  Klaus started to shake in fear and didn’t even look at Olaf. He didn’t glare. He didn’t talk back. He just sat there and trembled. “Now, get your ass inside and tend to your wounds. I can’t have you dying on me.”

Klaus shuffled to his feet as quickly as he could. Walking quickly passed Olaf and most of his troupe members who had been watching from the back door. Klaus glared at each troupe member, who had stood there watching silently as the scene had unfolded. How could they have not helped him? How could they condone this? He could ignore them allowing Olaf to merely slap him or even beat him. But to stand there and let Olaf cut him with a rusty umbrella and slap him around was inexcusable. Klaus wanted them all to burn in hell. He wanted each of them to suffer the way he had just suffered. The only troupe member that had not been at the back door was the Hook-handed Man, who was presumably still upstairs guarding the tower room. He may have been nice enough to give Sunny her blanket, but Klaus doubted he would have stopped Olaf. Klaus believed he would have helped Olaf. Olaf followed slowly behind him bringing in the umbrella. Klaus didn’t know whether Olaf was hiding evidence or keeping it close by to threaten Klaus with. Olaf turned to his troupe with a triumphant smile. “Now who wants more wine!”

Klaus slowly trudged up the stairs, his entire body feeling like he was slowly dying. He passed by the Hook-handed man who just looked at him with wide eyes. Klaus thought he was hallucinating because it looked like he wore a look of concern on his face. He held up a hook, Klaus couldn’t tell if it was a threat or his way of motioning for Klaus to hold on. The henchman walked off quickly, Klaus decided to wait. He used this time to garner up the strength to continue up the stairs to his attic bedroom. Just as he decided to push through the pain, the henchman returned with what looked like a self-made first-aid kit. He didn’t say anything, he handed the pitiful first-aid kit to the boy. He put one of his hooks up to his lips as if to tell Klaus to say nothing about this to anyone. Before he had a chance to reply, the hook-handed man turned to leave. Klaus frowned as the man left him alone.

He was all alone. He didn’t have either one of his parents, nor did he have Sunny to comfort him. After several minutes of climbing the stairs slowly, he was trying to maneuver with the least amount of movement as possible. Klaus reached the room and began to tend to his wounds.

End of chapter note:

The reason that I even wrote this in was for several reasons.

1. To make y'all hate Olaf even more than you had.

2. To make him a bigger, better threat against the children. Gotta make my villain scary, y'all.

3. To keep y'all on your toes.

4. I was in a dark place when I wrote this and part of me regrets it but another part of me is truly intrigued by just how dark and horrifying I went.

5. This creates more of a character arc for Klaus and helps me change future books like Reptile Room, Miserable Mill, Austere Academy, and Hostile Hospital to name a few.

6. Without Olaf trying to marry violet (which has it’s own dangerous implications) I needed something to make the stakes higher so I decided that this would be the thing to do that.

Please note that I do NOT like torturing children, fictional or not and it was truly hard to write this chapter. I even asked my bestie for help since she is into darker movies and shows. She also has no emotional connection to any of the characters and she found that editing this with me was fun. So she might help me with my darker chapters.

Thank you again. Sorry if this has disturbed anyone.