#I know this ask comes from a good place but issues with pet ownership in the US is much more complicated than adopting vs buying

[stressfulsloth]

In regards to your post “and now I'm. Just thinking about the loneliness that is SO pervasive through Elysium.”…

I have one thing to offer, or perhaps nitpick if you’d prefer it that way.

I don’t think it’s entirely fair to say the Sunday Friend isn’t a real friend. The Smoker On The Balcony believes him to be a real friend, even if he isn’t going to be there come Monday morn. But isn’t that enough? A friend on Sunday is still a friend, even if it makes waking up Monday all the worse.

Perhaps I’m biased though! Now that I think about it, most of my friends would fit the description. “Fair weather friend” feels to cold, but “sunday friend” is good enough.

And of course none of this is to say your post is at all wrong. It’s lovely and true. I just felt the need to quarrel publicly with that little detail.

To conclude, since I really just did not make myself very clear here; you are utterly correct to include the Sunday Friend in a post about loneliness but I take slight issue with saying he’s not a real friend. And so I wrote you a very long ask. And now as I reach it’s end I’m realising this was a very silly undertaking. But I’ve come this far so I’m going to grow a pair and hit “ask”.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope it isn’t too desperately obnoxious.

Peace out ✌️

Ahh man I'm sorry anon but I'm going to have to disagree with you pretty strongly here 😅 tbh I was a little too easy on him in the original post. It's not necessarily the temporary nature of their acquaintance that makes the Sunday Friend's friendship questionable on its own, although it doesn't help.

The Sunday Friend is quite literally not a friend. "Friend" in his title is a euphemism; he's not coming to visit the Smoker because he's his friend. He's coming to visit the smoker to do a bit of poverty tourism, to admire the crumbling place that his beliefs have helped to destroy, and a bit of heavily implied sex tourism too. A "first world" tourist, a bureaucrat from the international government, visiting one of the most impoverished districts of Revachol to spend his nights with a student. He's not the Smoker's friend, he's a client. They're using 'friend' as a stand-in for his actual role, which is a) as a part of the moralist bureaucratic system repressing the revolution and keeping the city as a whole trapped in a laissez faire purgatory easily exploited by foreign capitalists and ultraliberals, while still maintaining a friendly respectable face, and b) as the Smoker's customer, exploiting the poverty of Martinaise's residents to get what he wants for cheap and using the easy mobility that his money and status give him. Imo he's intended narratively as a parallel for the moralist coalition government; he views from a distance, focused on money and *ze price stabilité* but entirely divorced from the poverty and consequence of his work. Happy to dip his toe in and make use of exploitable populations in Revachol, but always ready to leave too. When asked how he became 'friends' with the smoker, his response is literally to describe the coalition occupying Revachol.

He knows so little about the Smoker beyond him being there to study art, but what kind? "Perhaps graphic design? Printmaking? Who knows?" As to your point about the Smoker thinking he's a real friend, the Smoker is under no illusions about who the Sunday Friend is. An injection of money. Someone with power, someone with the mobility afforded to him by ownership of a non-Revacholian passport, someone content to watch the place decay and do nothing but indulge himself in pet projects and worry about bureaucracy. Someone with the freedom to leave when things get bad; a freedom that is narratively only assigned to a rare few extremely bourgeois characters. Dora, on her flight to Mirova, Joyce and her boat, Trant and his academic travels, and the Sunday Friend who will be out of Martinaise like a shot the moment things start to kick off despite being a part of the overarching structure that is responsible for Revachol's subjugation and rising political tensions. The Sunday Friend will use the Smoker's labour, use the vulnerability of Revachol's precarious situation to his advantage, then once it becomes too precarious or he gets bored, he'll withdraw. In answer to your question, no, I don't think that's enough. Again I probably oversimplified in my last post but the loneliness all throughout DE is not just an emotional state but a political one. Alienation is a major theme. As is the impossibility of building community in the face of capitalism relentlessly subsuming anything in its path, in the face of shallow relationships dictated by the need for survival. The Sunday Friend embodies that concept perfectly. He is exquisitely shallow in conversation, a perfect moralist who at all times strives to remain impartial and distant.

Anyway. Tldr; my point is that the relationship between the Smoker and the Sunday Friend is far more transactional, and far more exploitative, than you seem to believe. "Friend" is not being used literally but euphemistically. A 'fairweather friend' is better than none, sure, but that's entirely inapplicable to this situation. Sorry for the long post and I hope it's not too rambling- I'm surviving on very little sleep right now but I hope it clears up for you a bit why I referred to the Sunday friend in that way initially.

[restinthewest]

your dogs seem very happy please consider adopting instead of shopping, the dogs you love so much are going hungry, mistreated, and euthanized in the hundreds of thousands each year. cosmetics are worth nothing to the dog itself , only to its owner. wish you all the best.

I appreciate your concern. Adopting a dog in need of a home is indeed a nice thing to do. I was in shelter work for a while and my last two dogs were adopted.

Both of them died from (likely genetically inherited) health problems at 6 years old. One of them had severe behavioral problems which affected his quality of life. I am at a point in my experience of owning dogs where I would prefer to avoid having a dog die young from medical problems which could be prevented through careful breeding, and I am also wanting a dog who could potentially compete in sports.

I am sure that I will adopt again in the future. I will probably buy dogs from a breeder again in the future. Dogs dying in shelters is not my fault.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Mr. Petrus is somewhere in public when a meek stranger approaches him on the street. They immediately recognized him as a Handler—formerly theirs. They appear alone, and half a second from falling to their knees should he so much as look at them a certain way. They try to tell him something but the words catch in their throat and only a quiet noise slips free. How does he react this unexpected interaction?

CW: Pet whump, whumper POV, creepy/intimate whumper, escaped whumpee returns to whumper, dehumanization, collared, implied dubcon/noncon at end, dubcon touch, dubcon kiss

He isn’t usually the type to go out to bars - Luke’s a workaholic on a good week, content to all but live in his Facility sleeping quarters, leaving for supplies or to spend a day out in the sun and then coming right back.

When you love what you do, as they say, you’ll never work a day in your life.

Still, Renford's essentially mandated he take a damn vacation for once. He’s left behind his trainees and headed out to enjoy himself at a bar he used to frequent, back before he found he preferred to frequent the cells the frightened young men are held in, waiting for the slightest touch to remind them they exist.

Luke sits back on a barstool with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Oh, he’s not supposed to smoke, but this bar doesn’t push the issue and he’s not the only one filling the air with the familiar, acrid scent.

Out on the floor, people dance together, barely lit by dim lights changing color every so often, Red, blue, and green move over sweaty skin, curves and straight lines. Luke enjoys it all. He quirks a smile. He can see, just looking, who here would look fucking gorgeous with a collar buckled around their neck and a little more emptiness inside.

Get ‘em so empty they need someone to fill it up.

Luke’s probably ten years older than the oldest of the people on the dance floor, but that doesn’t bother him. Plenty of people like an older man, and those who don’t… well, if he gets them on the wrong end of his baton, they don’t really get to choose what they like or don’t, now do they?

The beat is a deafening rumble that rolls against his skin in rhythm and Luke hums contentedly. His beer is cool and rolls with citrus sourness along his tongue and down his throat, slightly fizzy compared to the darker stuff. Bright enough to flirt with tasting like cider, or nearly so.

Some local craft brewery shit, probably. In his Facility studio, Luke just keeps some basic Coors. No need to get fancy at home, after all.

Does he even have beer in his actual home? It’s been so long since he’s been there…

Something touches his arm, pulls just slightly at his sleeve, and Luke turns, head tipping to the side, a grin already on his lips.

There’s a lithe, beautiful young man there, with hair dyed a brilliant, ridiculously bright purple, eyes ringed in eyeliner. He has a lip ring, Luke notes, his tongue moving out to run over his own lower lip in thought.

There’s something familiar about the young man, although Luke can’t quite place him. Not exactly.

But the shiver of trepidation mixed with a desperation to have eyes - and more than eyes - on him… Luke knows that well enough. It tells him what he wants to know. His smile widens, just a little. “Evening, pretty boy.”

The young man looks up at him, his hand still hovering just over Luke’s bicep, and his mouth opens like he’ll reply. All that comes out is a soft sound that Luke only hears because a new song has started, slightly off-key piano playing over a heavily-synthesized voice and the slow introduction of a beat.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows raise. “Use your words.”

The young man takes a step closer, and then another. He’s moving like a newborn fawn, on suddenly-awkward legs like he might fall to his knees at any moment. Luke was watching the dancers before, but now his gaze is wholly caught by the absolute goddamn sexiness of a runaway pet who can’t stop himself from walking back into a cage.

“H-Handler Petrus,” The runaway says, and when Luke’s hand moves to cup his face, the young man tips his head immediately into it. His eyes are watering, wet with tears that haven’t yet fallen. As soon as one slips out, Luke leans slowly forward and licks up the side of his face. The runaway whimpers at the wet heat of his tongue, the casual ownership of the action.

“That’s me,” He murmurs into the young man’s ear. “You know it. Why aren’t you running from me?”

The young man swallows, hard, and turns his head, pressing his own lips in a shivering, fearful brush against Luke’s cheek. “I-I’m hungry,” He says, voice almost too low to pick up. “And… and I don’t-... I don’t w-want-...” His voice trails off, and Luke’s smile only widens as the runaway leans forward and rests his forehead against Luke’s shoulder.

He sighs, setting his beer down half-drunk and turning to run his condensation-cold fingers through that garishly bright purple hair. “You ran away, huh?”

He already knows the answer.

The runaway pet nods without speaking.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it?” Luke slides off his barstool, shifting to slide an arm around the runaway’s shoulders. He slaps a ten-dollar bill on the bar and walks away, heading for the door, the beat of a song bouncing off his skin right up until they step outside. It’s chilly out here, with a stiff breeze blowing the scent of saltwater through the air around them. It feels a little like walking through the surf, down here at the old warehouse district.

“No. I’m… hungry all the time, I still have to fuck for a place to sleep, people are… mean sometimes, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, where to go.”

Fuck. He has to make sure the lib people don’t get ahold of this little beauty. He’s exactly what they’re looking to save.

“What’s your number?” He asks, casual as can be. The runaway isn’t wearing long-sleeves or a bracelet, he’s scarred on the inside of his left wrist when Luke takes a peek. Looks like he cut the tattoo off of himself, or had someone else do it, once upon a time.

“654338,” The pet says automatically, without hesitation. “Designation Romantic, Facility 001-”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Luke cuts him off and the pet falls back into silence. “Why’d you run away?” With his blue eyes as cold as ever, Luke lights another cigarette, takes a deep, deep drag, exhales smoke into the air in front of them as they move. The runaway coughs into one hand.

“I just… didn’t want to, anymore. With my owner.”

“You should know that what you want doesn’t fucking matter,” Luke says amiably, but the runaway winces and hunches into himself. Luke watches from the corner of his eye, his own mouth watering at the sight of the pet’s shame, his nervousness. “You don’t exist to get what you want. So why come up to me?”

“I thought maybe-... maybe you could help me.”

“Get back to your owner?”

The pet turns to look up at him, with gorgeous warm brown eyes full of pleading. “No, Handler Petrus. Please, please no. Just… just, to someone else, please, someone who won’t-... hurt me so badly. Please. Please.”

“It’s my job to get any runaway I see back to the Facility, gorgeous thing. Then back home."

“No. No, don’t take me back there! Please, I can’t-... I can’t do the lights again, please. I can't take how he h-hurts when, when he-"

"Yeah, yeah." Luke rolls his eyes. "Wimp."

The pet's eyes close against more tears.

Luke snorts at the sight. Pathetic. “We have pretty strict contracts that ensure runaways go right back to their rightful owners.”

“No, please, just-... can you help me another way?” The runaway goes up on his toes, presses his lips to Luke’s chin, against the corner of his mouth. Those pretty hands move to slide up under Luke’s shirt, cold fingers against his warm stomach. They tease moving downward. There’s a distance in the pet’s eyes, now, separating himself from what he’s doing to earn what he’s desperate for.

Luke considers. Then he has an idea, and he sighs, as if he's won over.

“Tell you what.” He rubs a thumb over the runaway’s lower lip, toys with his lip ring. The pet opens his mouth to show the silver stud on his tongue. Luke’s smile goes slightly cock-eyed, a jolt of heat straight to the pit of his stomach, spreading from there. “I’ve got a friend who might be able to keep you. I’m not going to just hand over anyone, though.”

The pet takes Luke’s thumb into his mouth, sucks lightly, rolling the tongue piercing against the underside in an unspoken promise. He pulls back just to ask, “What do I need to do?”

“I have an apartment, a week’s worth of vacation scheduled, and you can show me just how good you are at earning your keep.”

The runaway swallows with an audible click in his throat, then nods. “I-I can do that.”

“I know you can, baby. I’m the one who trained you. Now, let’s go find out how good you are with that tongue ring.”

Luke leads the pet away, towards his car, smiling contentedly into the night. He can enjoy a week of desperate eagerness, then drug the fuck out of the pretty thing, buckle a collar right back around his neck, and throw him into a cell at WRU to be wiped and put back where he belongs.

Once he’s on the Drip for a couple of days, he won’t even know Luke broke a promise.

He’ll be the same puppy-eager for Luke’s hands and mouth and anything else he wants to give him that he is right now. Plus, Luke’ll get a nice little bonus for turning in a runaway.

This is shaping up to be an excellent vacation.

[prof-peach]

Hey Prof, I need your advice.

My sister recently decided she didn't wanted her bulbasaur anymore (she got him on a whim about a month ago) and gave him to me, he is quite violent and tends to attack when I try to get close to him.

Now, that wouldn't be a huge problem, but my Purrloin has gotten hurt trying to befriend him, she's quite outgoing and never really liked fighting (we enjoy contests so she knows a few more flashy attacks), so she couldn't even defend herself properly.

I don't want to give up on him and my local rescue center is filled with Bunearies (you know, after Easter kids don't want their Bunny anymore) so they can't take him in right now, any advice in how I can go about this situation?

Sounds to me like you have a tricky little dude on your hands. So you're not battle orientated which will make this harder, Bulbasaur in the wild are actually quite combat minded to defend their families and territory, and a lot of their herds consist of strict hierarchy based on power and skill, often led by older, fully evolved members of their group. 

Before you take any actions to befriend them, its worth noting that any pokemon who comes into your care showing aggression is usually doing so for one or two reasons that are pretty universal for any species. Fear being the main issue with pokemon who have been ditched, if a pokemon is unwell, if it feels exposed, if it is unsure of you or your home, your partners, it may lash out because it is afraid. Even what looks like pure anger can stem from a fear. Of course some individuals are just full of rage, its not unheard of, but for the most part it comes from somewhere else. 

For a moment, take the time to put yourself in this pokemons shoes. It was chosen, with hopes and ambitions of its own, by your sister, a stranger to them, and for whatever reason they were cast aside. This reason may be unclear to the pokemon, it may be unfair, unkind, or even without malice just out of pure indifference. No matter the reason, this pokemon has been left behind by a trainer it at one point probably wanted to try to get along with. I don’t know what your sister may or may not have done, or provided for the bulbasaur, but it will help you understand how its feeling, if you were to ask her about their relationship prior to you receiving the pokemon. If it has always been aggressive and angry, i’d seriously consider talking to it about release, not rehome. 

We humans have a preconceived notion that pokemon are pets and things to keep with us. This may be true for some sure, but not every pokemon wishes to be a captive to a human, they may want more for themselves, and wish for a free life with their own kind. We cannot put our wants and desires above that of the pokemons, so you two need to have a talk, at a respectful distance for safeties sake, to see what the Bulbasaur feels they may want. These are herd pokemon, born and bred to be with their own kind, if not a larger group, if its lonely, if it wants to go home, to start a family, or simply to not be held in a ball as some creature to be owned, then you as its current carer must give it what you can. You can always find another pokemon who wants to be your partner, but you cannot give back lost years to a pokemon who has lived a life its unhappy with. Treat them with respect, and be open and honest. At the end of the day we have a chance to help pokemon, and forcing what we want onto them is a hinderance, and will lead to them feeling unsatisfied and bitter in the long run. 

Some pokemon lash out due to the process of being handed off to someone else, trust is earnt, not always just simply given to whoever holds the pokeball. Remember this as you move forward, and try to keep your other pokemon away from them, Bulbasaur are territorial species, and have to accept pokemon into their families before simply allowing them to come and go freely into their personal space. Despite their grouchy natures at times they usually do have a morally positive compass, and defend with ferocity when they love something. Perhaps in you showing genuine concern for their welfare and future, offering them not what you want, but instead what they want, they may give you a chance to get closer, but take baby steps, and try to be their friend above all else. I bet they're feeling pretty lonely right now. 

Its worth sharing interests with the pokemon, talk about contests, see if they're interested, some pokemon have a predisposition for this, others have no interest and prefer more battle based lives, or even peaceful non-competitive existences. no amount of pressure will change a pokemon’s nature, and some just aren't cut out for the fine art of showmanship that contests require. You can however use powerful attacks in showy ways, so theres always hope that they could enjoy it, if you can work with them to their strengths. 

If possible, work to getting them outdoors, cooping grass types up can lead to stroppy, testing personalities, many thrive in the outdoors, he may need some serious outside time to compensate for the lack of exercise and natural stimulation they may have not been getting prior to your ownership. There are plenty of areas in public that are much like tennis courts, areas of space you can book for a set amount of time too exercise difficult pokemon, these locations are often secure facilities, both outdoors and indoors, to suit a range of species. find one that has outdoor facilities and book a few hours per week to go there, increasing the time whenever possible. This exercise and time with you may help to find common ground, and topics that you and the bulbasaur can bond over. This can be anything from battles, to sun bathing, playing sports, games, swimming, running or digging, and everything in between. Bulbasaur naturally are great foragers and tend to like to snaffle about in long grass and shrubland, hiding treats like berry slices in a secure environment is good enrichment and can tire the pokemon out. a tired pokemon is usually a little less aggressive, having lower energy levels and less want to expend attacks. this process also associated you with something fun, and your scent will be on the treats too, so they'll know you were the one to provide this activity for them.   

I’d also take plenty of time to observe the bulbasaur, as your sister got them on a whim, they probably had no prior knowledge of the species, or how to correctly care for them. In a month, a health complaint could have begun to show, so observe their colouration, feet, walking gait, sleeping patterns, feeding habits, and general behaviour. Excess scratching, heavy breathing, or unusual shaking or moving can suggest a health condition is starting to take form. Most can be helped if caught early, but some illnesses give the pokemon discomfort, and can lead to snappy tempers and irritability. It could be that this individual is in pain, or finding life difficult due to its health, which can cause a lot of hostility as i’m sure anyone would agree. It can suck to be sick!

This species can be won over if you can prove you have a skill of worth to them. This is the case with a lot of pokemon, having respect for something they cannot do, and learning that they need things from you can lead to them at least tolerating us humans. Its a foot in the door. A trick i like t use with particularly difficult bulbasaur is to give them their fav food, whatever it is, then put it in a clear container the pokemon cannot open. They have no thumbs, and their vines though dexterous, aren't able to open every kind of container. The pokemon will want whats inside, and be unable to access it. they will eventually give up out of frustration. this is where you come in. enter the space, don’t let your pokemon approach as this can be threatening, and open the container. leave it on the floor open, making sure they've watched you get the thing open. They can then approach and enjoy their fav food, all thanks to you and those wondrous thumbs you have. repeating this process yields good results, and starts a mutual relationship of tolerance and acceptance between you and a bulbasaur. Most will accept they want the food more than they want you gone, and you provide something they can’t get to. whatever you do, don’t let them see that you were the one to lock the food up in the container. Get a friend to do it, or do it in the room, and leave it in place on the floor, before allowing the bulbasaur to enter and investigate the item. If they see you're the one doing it, the trick is foiled, and your back to square one. Eventually this does tend to lead to the pokemon becoming less stressed with you around them, and eventually it leads to trust, and even friendship. This trick is good to use to get them use to you, once they're ok with you being around them because of your use to them, they may start to take food from you directly, engage in play, or even just sit and tolerate company for short periods of time. Do not expect this to be quick, but it does usually do the trick. 

Regardless, i do have concern that the pokemon may want to be with its own, should you discuss this and find they're not interested in being housebound and a pet, feel free to send them our way, we had exactly this situation in mind when setting up the islands facilities, and have extensive locations designed with grass pokemosn needs at the forefront. Theres a small herd of about 12 bulbasaur evolutions that live north of our labs, no people see them, they are happy as a unit, and are left alone to go about their lives, with the only interactions between humans being us giving them their yearly health check, or should we spot them with an issue, we may intervene. They live away from others and pretty much free, in a poacher safe environment. Its not ideal, we like to keep pokemon in areas they come from, with people who love them, and you show great concern for the pokemon so it would be a shame to have to let them go, BUT sometimes thats just life, and theres nothing to be done about it other than accepting that the pokemons wants come first. They may just be mistrusting so try everything else first, and see how you go. hopefully you’ll yield some results from this all. Good luck out there trainer. 

[thebeauregardbros]

LFRP: Alus Beauregard | Crystal Server

THE BASICS ––– –– –

Occupation: Free Paladin | Field Medic | Café Proprietor

Hobbies: Fashion | Tea Brewing | Pastry Creation | Jewelry Making | Reading Faerie Tales

Race: Miqo’te (Sunseeker Descent)

Sexuality/Romance: Asexual / Panromantic

Relationship Status: Single; never married

Languages: Eorzean | Common. Understands all languages; possesses The Echo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

PERSONAL ––– –– –

Alias: “Alice” (💢)

Residence: The Goblet, Ward 8 : Sultana’s Breath Apartments; Wing 1; Apartment #21

Place of Work: Café Nobilitea: Lavender Beds Ward 20, Lot #8 | Anywhere his Eorzean Grand Company sends him.

Birthplace: ??? (Grew up in Eorzea; particularly in the Thanalan area)

Fears: Slugs | Failing to keep his comrades safe | Failing to save his enemies from themselves

APPEARANCE ––– –– –

Height: “Tall for a miqo’te” (5′8″/173cm)

Build: Barrel-chested, muscular; untoned muscles | Long legs, wide shoulders, slender hips.

Age: Unknown; nameday 20 yrs ago. Approximately 23 summers old.

Gender: Male

Skin tone: Tan; Gold Undertone

Eye color: Heterochromia; Deep Fuschia (Right) | Golden Yellow (Left)

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Body Mods: Pierced ears.

Distinguishing Marks: [SPOILER] Large amounts of large-scale bruises and scars all over his body. They are almost always covered up with his clothing. There are no visible scars on his face, neck, or hands.

Common Accessories: Large amounts of gold jewelry; Excessive rings, bracelets, pocket watch chains, earrings, tiaras, circlets, crowns | Large amounts of fresh and/or fake flowers; On his lapel, coming out of his pockets, warn as a flower crown, tucked in his hair, tucked amongst the buttons on his outfits, etc.

BODY LANGUAGE ––– –– –

Walk: Excellent posture; he carries his upper body with strength, while his legs nearly cross in his stride like an elegant female runway model.

Voice: His voice is often strong, clear, deep, and commanding, with the slightest hinge of huskiness. While off-guard, however, his voice cracks into a higher pitched and goofier voice. His quiet tones are very soft and sweet, like a warm fuzzy blanket wrapping you up in it on a cold winter’s night. (Voiceclaim/reference: Johnny Yong Bosch, particularly his roles as Vash from Trigun and Zero from Marvel vs. Capcom.)

Tics or Mannerisms: His speech consists of a shakepearian inspired word usage with a consistent disuse of contractions, similar to Urianger. | He tends to step-dance or become especially physically clumsy while nervous in social situations. | He will elegantly dodge all physical contact, even minor, unless he is comfortable enough with you to make the first contact.

Smell: Gardenia (Jasmine) / Cuttlebone dust

Posture: Constantly straight and erect; shoulders rolled back, chest out. Never looks truly relaxed, even while sitting. A model of good posture.

Disabilities: [SPOILER] Surface numbness on his scar tissue. Mild numbness in his left-hand fingertips.

RELATIONSHIPS ––– –– –

Romantic Partner: (None.)

Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive) (Deceased)

Siblings: Arc Beauregard (Twin Brother) (Alive)

Children: (None.)

Extended Family: (Unknown.)

Pets: Various unnamed wild songbirds and a fledgling Dodo that followed him home. He keeps feeding them, so they keep coming back, but he does not claim ownership of any of them. | He has also developed a relationship with a wild white horse he’s named Marion who consistently comes to his call. | His military-issued chocobo is named Erminia.

Other: Alus considers everyone he meets to be a friend.

PERSONALITY TRAITS ––– –– –

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Addictive / In Between / Nonaddictive

RP HOOKS ––– –– –

Café Nobilitea: Alus is the proprietor of a western-style teahouse with a distinct theme for elegance, royalty, and other-worldliness - His café is bright, full of flowers, and always playing soft kind-hearted piano music; the type of place a person could become lost in whence they’ve become tired of the grueling and dark outer world; a real heaven and haven. He often spends his free time there and enjoys sitting with his customers to get to know them.

Grand Company Militia: Alus is a very active member with the Eorzean grand companies in fighting against the Garlean empire and any other threats to the peace there might be upon the world. It’s very possible your character might have teamed up with him at some point in active duty.

The Prince on a White Horse: Alus patrols random fields often in order to keep the peace. Your character or someone your character knows might have been saved by the mysterious ‘Prince on a white horse’ while being attacked by bandits or beastmen, who oft leaves without giving his name.

A Fellow Warrior Of Light: Alus has helped out the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on occasion due to his status as a Warrior of Light; one of many.

LOOKING FOR ––– –– –

Long-Term ANYTHING!: Friendships, rivalries, casual familiarities, romances, anything. Alus has lived a long life without any PC RP interactions, and I feel his writing suffers for it. I want someone who will be there for the long run and get to know him. I want stories to develop. I want Alus to grow because of other people.

Open-minded villains!: Alus has the patience of a saint and will befriend the nastiest of criminals no matter what. Alus will stop them from directly committing serious crimes he may be there to witness (murder, kidnapping, robbery, etc.), but will ultimately be very forgiving and calm when dealing with these topics. He wants to genuinely make a connection with people he doesn’t understand and strives his best to soften anybody’s heart, no matter how hard. His ultimate goal is to change their ways for the better through patience and understanding.

Platonic flirts!: Alus has a lot of love to give and happy to give it to nearly everyone and anyone. He throws around the words ‘I love you’ quite easily, and if he is especially crushing on someone, he will hold their hands and hug them openly despite his normal dislike of physical touch. He is most happy when he has a large circle of queerplatonic relationships, but will be absolutely exclusive to their ‘steady’ when he has made that romantic commitment.

Distant family members!: Alus knows very little of the Beauregards; his adoptive father and surnamesake did not speak of them much. Alus is fascinated with Elezen culture and considers himself one of them. He would be incredibly happy to find anyone with the same last name who would welcome him to his adopted ancestor’s information.

ADVENTURE!: Once in awhile, let’s RP somewhere other than a unmoving place. Let’s RP in a dungeon. Let’s RP while doing gold saucer chores. Let’s RP while talking to random minor NPCs. Let’s RP while doing something other than just sitting! It can help a lot with improvisation and keep the creative juices flowing.

ABOUT THE MUN ––– –– –

Who I am: Hey, my name’s Will. I’m a 24 y/o prep cook living in Alaska. My family’s straight-up wiccan, I got 3 black cats, I love super flashy ridiculous fashion, 1980s comedies, and my favorite game’s Bayonetta. I’m a queer Aquarius with mild ADHD. Buddhism and pacifism are super important to me. I love the McElroys?? and uh. I yell in caps a lot. i WILL make you a playlist of music if you ask for recommendations, don’t fuckin tempt me. I’m a casual goofus fuck. here’s my ‘me’ tag on my personal,

Server: Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Time Zone: Alaska (GMT-8)

Availability: 11AM-2AM (subject to change)

Writing Style: Rapidfire! 95WPM. I like to RP just like I type normally - as thoughts pop up, I type ‘em, just like if I was talking. I’m not a big fan of waiting for turns; I have an anxiety disorder and that particularly makes me extremely anxious! However, I am happy to do short paragraph RP with you if we’ve been RPing long enough. Huge paragraph RP is 100% OK on Discord!

Platforms: In-game(preferred) or Discord.

Restrictions ––– –– –

No ERP!

No Permadeath! I really do not want to RP with anyone who intends to eventually kill off their character, either. This is a legitimate trigger for me.

RP Fighting...? I’ve never done this before. I’m not a fan of physical injury so it’s unlikely I would want to, either. But if the situation really calls for it, I’m open to learning. I will not allow you to permanently disfigure or disable my character - temporary injury is alright, but please talk to me about it first.

Mature Themes...? This is okay for me. Swearing, murder, prostitution, drugs.. I’m an adult! I don’t mind these themes being mentioned or being used as a backdrop to a prompt. Alus isn’t a fan of these things though! So just keep that in mind.

Sexual Assault...? For the most part, NO. However, a forceful kiss? An inappropriate touching that stops as soon as my character says no? Maybe. Ask me beforehand and be clear about what you’re thinking, no surprises.

More Info ––– –– –

Click here for Alus’ RP blog and all the memes and asks I’ve written for him!

tags;

@ffxiv-crystal-rp @crystalxivrp @mooglemeet​

[argylemnwrites]

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Epilogue

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~2200

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: Moving forward, together.

Author’s Note: This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

“So, who owns this place again?”

“It’s Cam’s uncle’s girlfriend’s sister’s building.”

“And we trust her… why?”

“Because she is fine with Cam vouching for us, so no income minimum, no issue with your lack of credit history, and no broker’s fee.”

Drake nodded. It still felt kind of shady to him, going to check out random units they heard about from different people they were tangentially connected to, but he was deferring to Riley completely, seeing as he had never been responsible for finding his own housing in his life. And apartment hunting in New York, it turned out, was a complicated task.

Back in February, when they’d started trying to figure out what neighborhoods to consider, Riley had told him not to bother searching the units listed on basically any website.

“There’s gonna be massive broker’s fees, and they probably won’t take us since we won’t have a guarantor. There’s a lot of scams, too. Just talk to your coworkers, word of mouth is going to be the best way to do this,” she’d warned him. 

Drake had done as she’d asked, but the units that his connections, the ones at the law firm he’d been sent to as coverage for one of the assistants who was out after surgery, recommended had not been a good fit. One didn’t allow dogs, one had been a definite bait and switch scam that looked nothing like the pictures he’d been shown, and the one they’d checked out last week was nice, but they would have needed a roommate to make it affordable, something they both weren’t really interested in doing.

But today they were checking out a one bedroom place in the Kensington neighborhood in Brooklyn that she’d heard about through one of her managers. They were supposed to meet with the building owner at 3 o’clock, so they had taken the F train over just after lunch so that Drake could get a better feel for the area.

Now that it was April, the weather was finally feeling like spring more consistently. It really couldn’t have been a nicer day for them to walk around the neighborhood. Drake was shocked at how close they were to a park. It was crowded as all get out, given that everyone and their mother seemed to want to take advantage of the pleasant day, but Prospect Park was large, had fishing spots, and most importantly, was some actual green space. While there were still numerous restaurants in the neighborhood, it felt so much more residential than their current apartment’s location. Drake could actually see why people would choose to live in a place like this.

The building owner, Kris, let them in and showed them up to the second floor walk-up she was looking to lease. It was in an older building, but everything looked well maintained at least. And it was big, probably twice as big as their current apartment. Drake was sure the fact that he’d been living in a 35 square meter studio for over four months was influencing him, but it just felt larger than his quarters at the palace had been, even though he was sure that wasn’t the case.

He wandered around, checking out the bedroom while Riley chatted specifics with Kris. After their first apartment tour a couple of weekends ago, they’d both quickly decided that was the best approach. Not only did Riley have more experience and knew the better questions to ask, but when left to her own devices, she was often able to charm landlords into throwing in some sort of perk, like waiving the pet fee or granting them some flexibility on move in dates. It was best to let her just do her thing.

As he checked out the closet space, it hit him how different his life was now than it was even six months ago. That Drake would have just been amazed that Riley would ever willingly choose to be with him over Liam. He could have never pictured himself choosing an apartment in New York with her. Sitting down and making plans for the future with her. 

It was easy to look at her and say that the change was all about her. And to an extent, that was true. He probably wouldn’t have found the motivation to make any changes in his life if he hadn’t met her. But it really was about more than that. It was about stepping up, letting go of the past, and taking ownership of his own happiness. He remembered Riley yelling at him, telling him he was scared to make changes in his life because he might still end up miserable on the other side of them. Basically telling him he needed to stop making himself a victim by his own choosing. And she’d been right.

Sure, some things were still a work in progress. Their visit to Texas a handful of weeks ago had proven that his relationship with his mother was not going to be mended overnight, after all. But on the other hand, he was hard pressed to imagine the man he was six months ago willingly getting an office job and going out for drinks after work with colleagues. He probably also wouldn’t have gotten a more “professional” haircut at the advice of one of those coworkers in hopes of turning a temp job into a permanent one. He would have fought such advice tooth and nail, insisting that anyone who cared that much about something as dumb as a haircut was a stuck up asshole, not worth his time. And while part of him still felt that way, he now saw it was a small price to pay to try and gain a more stable income so that Riley could cut down to part time at the bar and go back to college in the fall and work on finishing those last two semesters. Plus, she seemed to like his cleaned up cut, which was an added bonus.

The only way her going back to school was even a possibility was actually because of Maxwell. When he had let them know he was coming to New York for a “business venture,” they had both been confused, to say the least. But, when they met up with him for dinner and drinks, he’d told them he had found a way to bring some much needed cash to the Beaumonts - he had sold the rights to a holiday movie to the Hallmark channel, and that the script was so well received that they wanted him to keep writing for them. This had meant nothing to Drake himself, but Riley had just laughed, explaining that it was a TV network that made dozens of cheesy romance movies each year, many of them centered around Christmas.

When pressed, Maxwell had informed them, rather reluctantly, that the plot of the movie centered around a New York City waitress who came to a European country as the date of a prince for some Christmas ball, but ended up falling in love with his best friend. Despite Maxwell’s assurances that he was barely inspired by them and that all the names and locations were changed and that Christmas had nothing to do with Riley’s time in Cordonia, Drake and Riley had called him out on profiting off their story. Eventually, they struck a deal - they got a percentage of his payout for the script, which was going to cover most of Riley’s first semester tuition, and Maxwell had to help them with their move. It still irritated Drake a bit that Maxwell had just decided to throw their story out there for the world, but Liam had told him he approved the script and said it really wasn’t identifying at all, so Drake just decided to be grateful that Maxwell had not only brought Riley into his life, but also was giving her a ticket towards a job that didn’t require her to work a shitton of nights and weekends.

Drake wandered back towards the living and kitchen area, passing Riley and Kris in the narrow hallway, looking at the bathroom. He squeezed her hand as he passed them, and she threw him a little wink. He took in the main space of the apartment. They would be able to get a couch and a TV in there with their table, maybe even a bookcase. The kitchen was actually pretty nice, too. It probably had three times as much counter space as their current place. Everything here felt like it could work.

He opened the cabinets absentmindedly, half checking out the storage space, half waiting to see what Riley had to say about the place. After a couple more minutes, Riley and Kris came back out.

“Alright, well I’ll give you two a minute to talk it over,” said Kris, heading to the door, “I’ll be back in a few and you can let me know if you want to go forward with a lease.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Kris.” said Riley, leaning against the end of the counter.

As soon as the door latched, Riley looked up at Drake, “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s great. It feels too good, to be honest. How bad’s the rent?”

Riley paused for a couple seconds, “1850.”

“That can’t be right. That’s less than what we’re paying now, and it’s so much bigger.”

She chuckled a little bit, “Well, that’s the beauty of not living in a prime neighborhood.”

Drake just shook his head. He considered this location to be far more desirable than their current one, but he knew he was in the minority there. “What do you think about it?”

“I think this could be a really good fit for us.”

“You’re okay with his neighborhood?”

She nodded and gave him a smile, “This is a pretty diverse area of the city, so the restaurant options are good, and there’s decent access to the Q and F trains, so the commute shouldn’t be too bad.” She stood up and joined him further in the kitchen, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s be real, Drake. I’m not going to be as hard to please with this as you are. So, you gotta be honest with me. Can you see yourself here?”

He nodded, “Yeah, Liu. I can. I love this place.”

“Really?”

“Really. Is she willing to lease to us?”

“It seems like it. It sounds like her last tenant moved out unexpectedly, and her late partner used to handle the financial side of things, so she just wants to rent it out as quickly as possible.”

“And she’s cool with Anderson?”

“She told me she’s fine with small breeds.”

“Great, let’s sign.”

“Woah there,” she said, laughing, “And they say I’m the impulsive one.”

“What’s to discuss, Liu? Do you think we’re gonna find a better place than this one?”

She just shook her head and shrugged a little.

“Okay, then I stand by my statement  - we should sign the lease today. If she’s motivated to lease this unit quickly, don’t we need to jump on it?”

“I just want you to be sure, Drake,” Riley said, biting her lip slightly before she continued, “Last time you moved on a whim, things kind of… blew up for us for a while.”

Drake let out a little snort, “I think this is a little different, Liu.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “That may be the case, but I want us to actually take a minute and think about this. Make sure we can see ourselves here, okay?” And with that she plopped down on the floor, laying back and closing her eyes.

“Uh, Liu… what the fuck are you doing?”

She opened one eye and squinted at him, “I’m just taking a moment to tune out everything else and think about this. You should try it,” she said, waving him down.

Drake rolled his eyes, but sat down on the kitchen floor and leaned back slowly in the opposite direction. This seemed dumb as hell, but if it’s what she needed from him to not feel like he was going to flake out on her, he would do it.

They laid like that for almost a minute, breathing slowly. No fears or concerns or worries crept into his mind, which he was pretty sure was the point of this exercise. He wasn’t sure how long they were supposed to do this, but then he heard her moving and felt her curl her body against his head, snaking her hand under his neck and resting her head on his chest.

“So, any reservations about his place?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. Her eyes were staring back at him, wide and dark.

“None,” he said shaking his head slightly, “I think the fact that there’s enough floor space in the kitchen for us to do this has just convinced me even more.”

She chuckled softly, tracing soft circles along his neck with her fingers. “So, you want to sign the lease then?”

“Yeah, Liu,” he said, letting his eyes fall shut at her soothing touch, “This feels like home.”

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019   @sirbeepsalot  @texaskitten30   @princessleac1  @ladyangel70  @dcbbw  @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only:  @jovialyouthmusic  @iplaydrake  @gibbles82  @drakewalkerisreal  @riley--walker​ @notoriouscs​  @butindeed​  @addictedtodrakefanfic​  

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon  @thesumofmychoices​  @cosigottahavefaith​   @thequeenchoices​  @katedrakeohd​  @feartheendlesssummer​  @ao719​  @ooo-barff-ooo​   @sunnyxdazed​

[the-bjd-community-confess]

DoA megapost (22 confessions)

Mod: So https://true-bjd-confessions.tumblr.com/post/189300138511/mod-due-to-excessive-offtopic-arguing-in-the

All you guys’ pending DoA confessions presented in no specific order, before we move into the hold, as announced above.

To be clear: I think this is a feature DoA should have yesterday. It’s completely inappropriate to force people to use deadnames and names which are related to traumatic life experiences, or be banned. 

However, *weary sigh, gesturing at the multiple 70+ reply confessions on this topic* people told me they were finding the rapidly escalating discussion to be upsetting and offputting, and that’s not my goal for this blog. ❤️

1.

I am exceptionally weary of all the DoA hate over the person who got banned over making a new account after not being allowed to change their user name. DoA isn’t the only doll forum out there. If you don’t like their rules, don’t join. I for one find their rules about on- and off-topic dolls to be unfair and arbitrary as hell, but in the end it comes down to their house, their rules. Move on.

~Anonymous

2.

Us: Sure would be nice to maybe be able to change your name on DOA.

Some of y’all: Are you asking for anarchy?? If we allow this, what’s next?? A reasonable review of outdated rules??? The rules are there for a reason!!1! The reason may be antiqued because technology has updated and changed since then, meaning there are better solutions available, but it’s still a reason so we DEFINITELY should NEVER change!! Change is too scary for me. :( You’re bullies who want to be special :((( Stop that :(

~Anonymous

3.

I love seeing people get so offended at anon saying “bigots”. How do you know it was about you ? Guilty conscience? DOA could allow name changes if they really wanted to. There are other hobbies where they forbid certain people from entering forums while still allowing name changes. It’s not hard if you really care.      

~Anonymous      

4.

Honestly the way people fall all over themselves to defend DoA against any sort of criticism (regardless of how you personally feel about the validity of said criticism, reader) makes me glad I never got into the community aspect of this hobby. It's just... stressful.          

~Anonymous  

5.

The transphobia in the comments on this blog in particular are so gross. Being a bigot makes your dolls instantly hideous. And no, I’m not saying everyone who is defending DOAs decision is transphobic. I’m talking about the one who thinks trans people transitioning is wrong and their friends. You’re gross and so are your dolls.

~Anonymous  

6.

scammers can & will get around DOA's no name change policy, it's really not that safe. also, DOA isn't the only website which allows the sale of high-value items.

~Anonymous  

7.

First it's "if you want name changes coded in DoA, offer to do it yourself!", then it's "why tf would DoA accept some rando to help code their site?" make up your goddamn mind, your argument is falling apart. 

Also when did this issue become "DoA vs trans people"? Like, I like DoA yet I also recognize it should be more accessible and updated for the modern userbase. I want it to become as good as it can be because I like the community and would hate to see it die out like so many other forum sites do. Yes, it has flaws- and believe me, the folks who get extremely upset about the idea of admitting that embarrass me- but I liked the format since I was new to the hobby. I just wish it was more inclusive!    

~Anonymous    

8.     

girlisav3rb: "this isn't about exclusion or leaving anyone out". Also girlisav3rb: "I'm just kicking your punk ass off [obvious metaphor for DoA]" yyyyiiiiikkkees      

~Anonymous    

9. 

The DOA username debate is really starting to feel like 4 people's personal beefs against each other. It isn't really about dolls and I wish it wasn't dominating all the confessions here. I don't really care about watching pomoaples, pupkinspce, aigisthewlve and tellmeifthursday make fools of themselves daily.        

~Anonymous      

10.

Say it louder for the people in the back: IF YOU INSIST ON NAME CHANGES FOR DOA, THEN VOLUNTEER YOUR CODING EXPERTISE. Don't know how to code and are just squawking about something you can't directly contribute towards? Then shut up or offer up money so the mods can hire a computer programmer to make the changes you're DEMANDING from a FREE service.        

~Anonymous

11.

God it's so painfully obvious to see how many of the people defending DoA on the grounds that name changes would destroy the integrity of the website have never ever worked on or even been part of a forum or really any website of any kind in their lives. Seriously arguing that "the database" would break if you changed a name like?? No??? Have you ever seen a server backend before? You can automate this shit, you know, keep a log of former names, just... it's not some big huge challenge??? 

~Anonymous 

12.           

I don't have a horse in the trans name change race but calling DoA one of the friendlies communities around is abject bullshit lmao. There's not a more elitist, paranoid, abusive community this side of comic books -- but that kind of goes for this hobby as a whole, let's be honest.           

~Anonymous     

13. 

THE RULES ARE IMPORTANT WE CAN't cHANGE THE RULES IT WILL LEAD TO CHAOS IF WE CHANGE ONE RULE WHERE WILL IT END THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!!!!!! In my town it used to be THE RULES that POC have to go to separate schools and use separate bathrooms, but sure, the rules are the most important thing, not the people. And before anyone says cOmPaRiNg DoLlS tO rAciSm, 1) shitting on trans people IS a form of prejudice you smoothbrains, and 2) my ass is POC and I call it like I see it. Check yourselves.            

~Anonymous   

14.   

I personally think DOA should just.. go away? It’s been around for years, most people use it as reference rather than a community anymore. Everything is on FaceBook and Instagram now, DOA is pretty much just a glorified Dolly Dictionary at this point. Besides, if they aren’t going to change an Incredibly simple, easy thing to change just to accommodate transitioning people, it’s not the best place to be.

~Anonymous  

15.

I mean about the whole rules is rules is rules thing about doa: the thing is, some rules are there for a reason and obviously do need to be respected whether you agree with them or not, like don’t block fire exits, murder is bad, etc. but some rules eventually become outdated and need to be changed to keep up with society, and that doesn’t make the people pointing out that they need to be changed evil or entitled or spoiled. Imagine if we all still had to drive 10 mph everywhere because when someone pointed out that car technology had improved since 1915 and the speed limit should be increased accordingly everyone had just shouted them down with “BUT TEH RUUULLLEESS!!!” You’d be pretty interested in getting some of this “special treatment” yourself so you could get to work on time, huh?

~Anonymous  

16.

Honestly the easiest solution would be let people change their names only once and have it trackable.. as a trans dude its NOT that deep.     

~Anonymous        

17.

I notice that the unrelenting attacks on DoA are now even using the same phraseology along with the name-calling and implications of sinister motives. These are textbook bullying tactics. Next is the boycott, except that most of these people already say they don’t use the forum because they are just too “21st Century” for it.

Luckily this is just a confession board and no matter how many folks you manage to rile up here, it’s not going to affect DoA. Now, this is why I love DoA–you can’t go on their own site and spew this nonsense. They have Rules. They are Strict. They attempt to avoid drama, especially off-topic drama, and they don’t allow meanness, vulgarity or obscenity. If you’re looking for a pleasant, safe space, it’s your best bet.

~Anonymous

18.

Easy to lay bigotry, laziness, stupidity and worse on DoA mods for not just accepting tales of trauma and pasts to erase.  But the internet has always been full of lies by people trying to get their own way or escape consequences. Not just pro scammers. People who cry things like illness, trauma, disaster, family or pet problems over and over to get sympathy for demands or as all-purpose excuses. Recast ownership lies. People who never got a no before, and don't like being turned down no-how.

~Anonymous

19.

I just realized that no one understands the people saying DOA can allow name changes are the people who have actually modded forums before, most forums unless they’re running a totally outdated system use user id numbers that are linked to display names, which can be changed, and you can write a simple string of simple-baby-code to show old display names on a profile, to explain it in simple terms.   

~Anonymous                    

20.

Honestly I think that the anti-name change people are mostly just shilling for DoA because they can't believe that their precious forum with its volunteer mods could be anything but flawless. Or something like that, given how indignantly these people have *always* reacted to confessions criticizing DoA, even before the trans controversy was a thing. There have definitely been some obvious transphobes as well though, whose bile is really more suited to conservative FB pages or something. Go away!          

~Anonymous

21.   

the DOA mods can obviously change people's usernames because it's 2019 and basically every other site in existence can do it. they might have to change the site slightly to accomplish this. maybe there are reasons for them to choose not to do that, but let's stop pretending it's some technological impossibility.

~Anonymous

22.

How about this: Implement a system on DoA that indentifies users by a unique code and allow users to have a changeable display name. Changing the display name could become a paid feature to pay for the technical changes. Think of a system like discord has. It's a win-win situation. Thoughts?            

~Anonymous

[fantasyfandommaiden]

Adrien’s Mentorship AU: Familiar Bonds And Boundaries

Adrien has mixed feelings about his new familiar Zeus. One the one hand, he finally has a hamster who is helping him with his magic and gives him the extra bit of confidence he needs! On the other hand.... he’s a pervert who likes to use innuendos and seems to have a thing for his magic teacher, Mlle Carmine.

[[MORE]]

Adrien couldn’t wait for his next magic lesson with Mlle Carmine, and by that he meant he truly could not wait a week and had asked the woman if he could meet not even three days after seeing her.

Carmine agreed, although she was somewhat confused by her students eagerness and said they could meet right after school at her apartment.

When her student arrived with a wrapped Bouquet of flowers, she was equally confused. “These are not from me... well they are, as a thank you, but for some reason I don’t trust it and I’m gonna say their from Zeus until I’m proven wrong.” Adrien insisted as he walked in, kicking off his shoes as Carmine closed the door.

Gladiolus perched on her shoulder, as Zeus crawled out of Adrien’s pocket onto his shoulder to do the same. For some reason her familiar did not care for Zeus, even though he would not tell her why.

Adrien handed Carmine the bouquet, undoing the wrapping to see the bundle inside. She saw witch hazel, coral roses, pansies and orange lilies... oh, she understood now why Adrien wanted to see her.

‘YOU BASTARD!’ She heard Gladiolus yell as he leaped from Carmine’s shoulder to Adrien’s, tackling Zeus to the group and proceeded to chase said rodent.

‘YOU THINK YOU CAN COME INTO MY HOUSE, AND TRY THIS ON MY MISTRESS!?!?’

Adrien looked fearful slightly as the two rodents continued to chase eachother, Zeus letting out a loud chirping sound, which Gladiolus responded with

‘THAT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT! THAT YOU IS YOU TRYING TO WOO, NOW COME BACK HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A FEY YOU PIECE OF SHIT!’

Zeus let out more chirps as he bolted away from Gladiolus, Carmine noting that Adrien became a very bright shade of red as Gladiolus responded back.

‘NO YOU CAN NO CLIMB HER AND FEEL HER SKIN YOU DAMNED PERVERTS!’

“Did I do something wrong?” Adrien asked in a panic as Carmine smiled at him, letting out a small chuckle as she held up a single steam of each of the flowers.

“Witch hazel, meaning I cast a spell on you, pansies for ‘lovers thoughts’, and coral roses along with orange lilies hold the same meaning...” she smiled at Adrien somewhat mischievously “‘Desire’. I take it Zeus picked the flowers? Living up to his name sake I take it.”

Adrien’s face flushed an even brighter red “Mlle Carmine, I am so sorry-“

“Adrien, it’s fine.” Carmine said smiling warmly at him “I’m flattered, it’s been while since I’ve been given flowers, I take it he has been making some... straight forward and perhaps lewd suggestions about me?”

‘THATS AN UNDERSTATEMENT!’ Gladiolus all but yelled in the back of her head as he finally pinned Zeus down to the ground, growling at him.

“How do I make him stop?!” Adrien asked, his face bright red, as Carmine gave him a small smile in pity.

“Unfortunately you can’t really. Your bond is still fairly new and you can’t really issue him any orders yet until you’ve known each other longer. A familiar’s job isn’t just to help you with your magic but to also help balance you out as a person. Gladiolus for example helped me become more proactive and active when it comes to my magic, as well as being a bit more out going when it comes to meeting new people.”

“So... I’ll become a pervert?” Adrien asked fearfully.

“No, no, no. Most likely Zeus will just try to help you.... be more straight forward about your wants and desires.” Carmine explained smiling “But who is to say? Time will tell.”

“So... there’s no way to make him stop?” He asked mournfully, causing Carmine to raise a brow.

“No... besides trying to ask him nicely. Why?” Carmine asked slowly.

Adrien’s face turned a bright red as he remembered the events of the day.

~~~~~

“So you have to be near me at all times?” Adrien asked Zeus well they were being driven to school. Plagg wasn’t crazy about sharing his pocket with the hamster but the familiar had proven to be fairly interesting company, especially

since for some weird reason the kwami could understand him.

‘Yes, our bond is still new and thus very weak, ideally I shouldn’t be away from you for longer than an hour or two, least I get sent back to the spirit realm and you have to resummon me again,’ Zeus had explained to the young model.

“Still can’t believe Nathalie agreed to let me ‘have a pet hamster’ so easily...” Adrien muttered, remembering the phone call that Carmine had made to Nathalie before being picked up, about how a pet would give Adrien a sense of ownership as well as some responsibilities and a small friend to have. Nathalie agreed right away.

‘Well, I imagine that the Mademoiselle can be VERY persuasive when she wants to be... I know she could persuade me to do anything~’ Zeus all but purred and Adrien felt a slight blush go across his face at the implications.

“Another thing! You can’t be making those kind of comments about her! You need to respect Mlle Carmine!” Adrien insisted, glaring at the small hamster who looked up at him confused.

‘Whatever do you mean kid, I AM being respectful of her. Your mentor is a very powerful mage, even i can feel that, and one that is both patient and wise from what you’ve told me.’ Zeus stated ‘All traits to be admired for and I have the utmost respect for her even thought I’ve only known her for a few days...’

Adrien looked at Zeus somewhat confused, his eyebrows furrowed as he could almost sense the smirk going across the hamsters face.

‘She just also had the added benefit of having a body like a Greek goddess, one I would full heartedly love to worship. Every. Single. Night.’

Adrien let out a loud groan, burying his face into his hands as he muttered softly under his breath. He was thankful that the driver pulled up to th school at the moment to give him a chance to breath and calm himself before exiting the car, Zeus hanging out in Adrien’s pocket.

The familiar had stated he would prefer to be on Adrien’s shoulder so he could actually look around, but Adrien stated that while they were in school because it would draw too much attention... also the feeling of his small paws against his skin was FAR to stimulating for him to focus and made him a bit uncomfortable.

The strange thing was that the moment Adrien had expressed that Zeus only stated ‘okay, can I stay on your shoulder if you have clothing over top and were not at school?’

Adrien had never had someone compromise with him or give him a choice... it was odd, especially from the usually lewd familiar. However, it was reasonable and Adrien agreed to the idea.

The blonde model managed to arrive at school roughly twenty minutes before class even started (which was a rarity) and was getting some additional work done when Nino, Alya and surprisingly Marinette who was early for once, walked in and took their seat.

“Hey bro, did you manage to get the math homework done last night, it was killer-“ Nino stopped, looking at Adrien with a raised brow “... dude, is that a hamster?”

Marinette, upon hearing the word ‘hamster’, span around in her seat to kneel on it and looked on the desk to see, low and behold, a hamster, who looked at her curiously. Marinette had to restrain herself from squealing at the sight of the small grey dwarf hamster as Adrien explained that to his friends how he and gotten him on the weekend to have a friend of hang out with when he was too busy with school work.

“Can I hold him?” Marinette asked, forgetting to stutter at all as her eyes were focused solely on the hamster. All of her friends took notice of the lack of stutter, Adrien smiling brightly. Maybe this was what they needed to break the ice some more?

“Sure, just hold your hand out and see if he goes to you, his name is Zeus.” He said, as Marinette delicately held out her hand, Zeus all but jumped onto it, climbing up her arm to nuzzle into her neck, causing the small biracial girl to giggle.

“That is one affection hamster.” Alya commented at Marinett continued to giggle, doing her best to hold still least the hamster fall off.

Zeus tucked away into the collar of her jacket, slightly under her shirt, letting out a low whistle that only Adrien could hear. ‘HEY KID! She even has freckles down here!’ He called out to him, causing Adrien to flush slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to look more bashful than embarrassed. L

“Yeah... he is something alright.” He said, looking at Zeus with slightly narrowed eyes as the hamster continued to snuggle against Marinette who was none the wiser to the fey’s slightly lewd comments.

‘Woah kid, this girl’s skin is super soft!’

‘She’s smells like a bakery! I wonder if she tastes just as sweet!’

Adrien was doing everything in his power to keep a neutral face at the comments when Mlle Bustier entered the room to begin class.

Marinette goatherd Zeus in her hands, giving him a smile that would rival the sun “Bye Zeus, see you later.” She said softly, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before handing him gently to Adrien.

Adrien could almost feel the smugness radiating off the rodent as he placed him in his pocket, murmuring softly “Not cool Zeus.”

‘Hey, relax kid. She is WAAAAY to young for my liking, I like my woman to have a bit more... experience and maturity.’ Zeus stated back to Adrien. ‘... she would be perfect for you however!’

Adrien let out a groan, banging his head on the desk as he muttered ‘Why me?’

~~~~~~

“And he was like that all day?” Carmine asked Adrien with a raised brow. Gladiolus and Zeus were still running around in the background, still yelling and cursing at each other, even though Carmine and Adrien only knew what one half of the conversation was each.

“Yes! With everyone! Even Nino he said had a good ‘firm hold on him’! I don’t know how much longer I could take it!” Adrien said groaning “It’s just so... disrespectful!”

Carmine raised a brow “... well it may have been excessive but I would hardly call anything you told me disrespectful Adrien.” Carmine stated to him “Disrespectful would have been him climbing down Marinette’s shirt to get into her bra, or making extremely lewd comments. It sounds more like he left it at light teasing, at least when it came to your classmates. If they could understand him, I am sure they would have told them to stop, but since they can’t you’ll have to help set those boundaries with him.”

Adrien looked at her with a raised brow “... what if he doesn’t want to listen and keeps doing it anyway?” Adrien asked softly.

“Well there is one way to find out.” Carmine stated, glancing at the two familiars who were now rolling on the floor as if wrestling “Gladiolus, Zeus, front and centre please.” Carmine called.

As if a switched had been pulled the two familiars were standing in front of Adrien and Carmine, looking up at the woman with the utmost respect.

“Zeus, Adrien has something he wishes to tell you.” She stated, looking towards Adrien, giving him a silent prompt to continue.

Adrien froze momentarily, looking between Carmine and Zeus look a deer caught in the headlights before, swallowing and taking a deep breath.

“... I didn’t appreciate all the Lewd comments you made towards my friends today. I know they can’t hear it and stuff but still, it... doesn’t seem right. I mean, their kids! You can’t make comments about where Marinette has freckles, or how luscious Aliya’s skin is, or how Nino has a firm grip with his hands!” Adrien exclaimed.

Carmine looked down at the hamster with a raised brow at those comments “... really?” She asked him softly, she could feel the smug energy coming from him, and the low growl that Gladiolus was giving proved he wasn’t impressed either, although Gladio had a problem with anyone that was proven to have an excessively dirty mind.

“I mean, I know you probably won’t stop all together but could you not do it in the middle to class, or climb into their shirts-“

The hamster chirped loudly at that.

“...oh, it was just on the shoulder? Really?... wait how many freckles did she- no!” Adrien shook his head “Does matter! No more lewd comments! It makes me uncomfortable and I know I’ll probably get use to it one day but today is not that day so please... no more lewd comments about my friends... please.” He said the last part somewhat pathetically, as if expecting a straight out ‘No’ like usual.

Zeus gave out a single chirp, and the look on Adrien’s face turned to what of bewilderment.

“... what? It’s that easy?!”

“Ooooh I see what’s happening.” Carmine said snapping her fingers, looking at Adrien “Sorry Adrien, I forgot you don’t live in a magic house hold, or a normal one at that... you haven’t had talk about boundaries have you?”

“Umm... kind of?” Adrien asked, somewhat confused.

“See, although you share a psychic link with Zeus, he can’t read your mind unless you let him, meaning he doesn’t know what your boundaries are. Most fey don’t ask what your boundaries are so much as they test the limit until they go past it.” Carmine explained, seeming to go into full teacher mode. She than gestures towards her familiar who was still glaring at Zeus, as if waiting for him to try something.

“Gladio here wanted to be by my side every seconds of every day upon our contract being forms. He’s very protective of me, as you’ve seen, and didn’t want me to be in any danger. However, it wasn’t practical at the time, not to mention with him identifying as male, it was somewhat embarrassing for him to be in the same room as me if I was bathing or just wanted some alone time. So once our bond was stronger and there was no chance of him going back to the spirit realm, one of the boundaries we set were that he was to accompany me throughout most of my day, with the exception of me going to school, bathing or if I wanted to be alone.” Carmine explained, smiling at Adrien, before looking towards Gladio, who spared a quick glance at Carmine before looking back at the hamster. “One of his boundaries was that he really doesn’t like it when others touch him unless he gives the Okay, so I’ve always had to make sure that people don’t touch him unless he tells me it’s fine.”

“... and you guys just, followed through with that?” Adrien asked somewhat confused. He was remembering all the times people had touched him, or invaded his personal space without his permission, or even went back on his word. He had gotten use to being disappointed, and the fact that it sounded so easy was... too good to be true.

However Carmine just smiled and nodded “Yep. Adrien, this is a life long bond, and any relationship; romantic, platonic, familial, is based on compromise and communication.” Carmine told him “... talk to Zeus about what you are comfortable with, and he will tell you what he is comfortable with, and hopefully, with a lot of time and patience, you’ll find compromises to any solution.”

Adrien looked at If Carmine had just told him the secret to the universe with this revelation, before looking at Zeus “... I guess I still have a lot to learn, huh?”

Zeus gave a shrug and chirped, Adrien looking at Carmine somewhat sheepishly as Gladio let out a low, predatory growl towards the hamster.

“Um... he wants to know if you liked the flowers, or if they made you uncomfortable.” He asked sheepishly.

Carmine raised a brow, looking at the small hamster who stood not even two feet away from her. She gave him a small smile “...I loved the flowers, although the meaning come on a bit strong. Perhaps yellow roses for friendship next time?” She asked in a somewhat cheery tone.

With expert ease she saw the hamster raise a brow, before a soft light appeared and Carmine felt a pair of lips brush against hers in a feather light kiss “Perhaps I’m not looking for friendship, ma chérie~” the voice purred.

Carmine blinked several times as she looked at the man that stood before her that once was a hamster. He was taller than her by about four inches, and he was built fairly lean, as if he had trained as a ballet dancer all of his life. He had pale blonde hair that in light waves, he had fairly pale skin, and a pair of piercing blue eyes gazed at her, a playful smirk on his face. He wore a white coloured dress shirt, with a black vest overtop and matching dress pants, a nice pair of leather shoes on his feet.

Carmine looked somewhat confused, but than super apologetic she gave a soft whine as another soft light appeared around Gladiolus. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“You fucking BASTARD!” Another male figure appear and all but tackled the first one, pinning him against the wall as he let out a low, predatory growl that rivaled that of a lion on the hunt.

This man, unlike the first one, had slightly tanned skin, and was built like that of a swimmer, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His hair was a dark brown and brushed against his shoulders. He was wearing a black motorcycle jacket, with a white shirt underneath overtop of a pair of faded blue jeans and combat boots.

The only thing that was the same about the two men were their piercing blue eyes, however one was glaring at the first man with a controlled rage, while the other had a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit eating smirk on his face,

“What did I fucking say about touching her?!” The man with the motorcycle jacket growled, almost lifting the man off his feet as he was pinned against the wall.

“Worth. It.” The blonde haired man said with a slight chuckle, causing the other man to let out a low growl.

Adrien, who in the middle of this all happening, had placed himself between Carmine and the two men as if to protect her.

“Mlle Carmine what’s going on?!” Adrien asked as Carmine gently touched her lips, letting out a soft hum.

“I told you Gladio was protective of me, and Zeus kissing me crossed that line.”

“... what? THATS ZEUS?!?!” Adrien asked as he pointed at the blonde man who let out a loud laugh.

“Yep, and might I say ma chérie, your lips-“

Gladiolus gave Zeus a sharp shove against the wall, glaring at him with a hot heat “Chose your next words... very... carefully you swine.” He growled as Carmine walked up, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Gladiolus glanced at Carmine, who gave him a small, gentle smile.

“... He didn’t mean anything by it Gladio.” Carmine stated to him gently, her hand not leaving his shoulder. “... I’m fine. I’m safe. Please put him down.”

Gladiolus’ expression noticeably softened as Carmine spoke, his grip loosening on Zeus’s clothes, however once his eyes returned to the familiar he glared.

“There will not be a next time, but should you ever have a death wish, you WILL ask before you try that stunt again, got it?” He growled

Zeus, who still had a a mischievous glint in his eye and a smirk on his face, looked between the two of them, almost as if he saw something Adrien did not as he simply nodded.

“Of course, I should have sought permission before gaining a kiss from such a beautiful lady, won’t happen again.” Zeus stated, giving a small smile to Carmine who returned it.

“Good.” Gladiolus stated, unceremoniously dropping Zeus as if he were trash on the floor, the impact causing the familiar to transform back into a hamster. Gladio looked at Carmine, giving a small nod and a warm smile before transforming back into a ferret.

Adrien was still starring in shock at the two familiars and Carmine, his mouth wide open.

“THEY CAN TRANSFORM LIKE IN FRUIT BASKET!?!?!”

“Well, not exactly, it they can change their form... did I not tell you that?”

“... NO! NO YOU DID NOT!!!!”

[orcinus-ocean]

All credit goes to Danelle Wolford, the source is in the link above.

------------------------------

Let me preface this post by saying this is not directed towards vegans or vegetarians or anybody who chooses not to eat meat. If you have chosen to avoid meat, more power to ya.’

It all started with undescended goat testicles (as most stories do)…

Our little Nigerian Dwarf goat, Lacey, had just given birth to triplets. Because we don’t typically keep the males, we listed him on Craigslist to be sold either as a buck (with testicles and the ability to breed) or as a wether (no testicles and no breeding abilities).

We got a call right away from a young woman (let’s call her Andrea) who had always wanted a pet goat. We thought she would be a great fit for our little male because castrated males make wonderful little loving pets.

Unfortunately, when it came time to castrate the little fella, we discovered that his testicles hadn’t descended, something we were pretty discouraged about. You see, to have him as a buck or a wether would be detrimental either way. It would cost about $300 to have them surgically removed, a big financial setback considering wethers can only be sold for about $50. Keeping the testicles wasn’t an option either because his hormones would turn him into an aggressive, smelly buck. And YET, his sperm wouldn’t be viable because they die from being stored in his abdomen, so nobody would buy him as a buck. Those scrotum sacs are there for reason: To keep the sperm alive at an optimal temperature.

So, you see our conundrum. When we called Andrea to tell her the bad news, she was undeterred. She loved his sweet face and personality she said she’d pay the cost to have him castrated surgically.

She took him home the next day.

4 months later I get a phone call…

Yep, you guessed it. It was Andrea. She was upset that he was starting to become aggressive and humping everything in sight. We told her she could castrate him, but she said instead she wanted to sell him. She asked if I knew anybody, and I told her I would ask around, even though I knew the chances of somebody taking a goat with issues like this would be slim.

Luckily, I found the perfect person to take him. His name was Mundo and he is the most adorable, knowledgeable, and helpful, 80 year old man I know. He agreed to take him and I was happy I’d found a place for the little guy.

Mundo was born in Mexico, and his culture and heritage has many traditions. One of them is raising and butchering their own meat. They use EVERY part of the animal, and to me, it’s a beautiful thing to see such appreciation for animal husbandry. Mundo has come to our home often to teach us his butchering methods. He taught my children that killing animals is never funny, and that we should thank God for every harvest.

Here’s where it gets complicated.

Now, I specifically chose to NOT tell Andrea that Mundo raises goats for meat. Some of you may think that was wrong, but I had a feeling she’d have issues with it and I thought it best if she didn’t know. Sort of an “ignorance is bliss” kind of thing.

Everything was arranged and Andrea scheduled a time to drop the 6 month old male goat off at Mundo’s place.

A few minutes later Andrea called me crying because she had driven to Mundo’s house and he was butchering a goat “RIGHT THERE IN HIS BACKYARD!” She couldn’t believe that he was so mean to goats and she said she wasn’t comfortable dropping her goat off in his care.

I tried to talk to her and tell her that Mundo would let him live a good life, that he’d be with other goats and that when Mundo butchered his animals he gently pierced their jugular veins so they’d pass out first. I told her he was a kind and gentle man. But yes, he did raise his own meat, just like we do here on our farm.

She could not be convinced. She said it was brutal, and she thought it was wrong.

I asked her if she ate meat. She said she did, but that was different, that she “bought meat from the store.”

I’m sorry, but if you can’t tolerate farm butchering, you shouldn’t eat meat.

I understand when people choose to avoid eating meat. There are plenty of vegans and vegetarian with conviction and who live what they believe.

What I don’t understand is people who ALREADY EAT MEAT that have issues with home butchering.

I don’t understand why it’s okay to buy meat from the store, from a source where the animal is raised in poor conditions, living in their own feces, eating less than optimal food, some never seeing the sun. BUT YET an animal who is raised on a farm, with rich green grass, plenty land to run and play…  somehow THAT is worse?

It reminds me of the person who commented on one of my butchering posts, “Why don’t you just get meat from the store where it’s made?”

What??? When did we get so disconnected to where our food comes from? And when did it become so wrong to teach children proper butchering techniques?

I get that everybody doesn’t want to butcher animals in their backyard, but…

People have GOT to get more comfortable with those of us that do. If you decide to purchase farm animals, whether it’s a chicken or a goat, you’ve got to understand that if you can no longer care for it, others may just raise them for meat. And that’s okay.

Once of my biggest pet peeves is seeing chickens for sale on Craigslist with the clause that they will not sell them to anybody who plans on eating them. Um, I’m sorry, but if you can no longer care for your farm animal, you’ve got to understand that 90% of people who you’re selling to may decide to harvest it.

What I wish people would understand about us farm people is…

We don’t do this because we are ravenous monsters who eat exorbitant amounts of meat. We do this because we appreciate REAL MEAT, from animals that are raised naturally.

We also tend to eat LESS MEAT because we know the work that goes into it and we want to make it last. Just the other day I was talking to my friend Shaye about how we try to avoid eating our meat chickens stored in the freezer, simply because we know all the work it took to get them there. We make it last as long as possible.

Part of the reason why we raise our own animals is to take ownership of our choice to eat meat. We feel that if we cannot do it ourselves, we shouldn’t be eating it period.

So, next time you start a hobby flock of chickens and decide they are no longer worth your time, just remember that there are people who would gladly take them off your hands. Yes, they’ll probably butcher them. And you’re just going to have to be okay with that.

[talix18]

November 5

(AM)

In the moments when I’m lonely and longing for a life partner who lives with me and cooks for me and prods me to do the many projects around the house that need doing, I imagine what it will be like to make room in my house for another person. I’ve lived a long time, I contain multitudes, and each of those multitudes requires at least one room’s décor dedicated to it. This décor includes lighting, wall art, and hella knickknacks, which I’m learning are perhaps privileges and not rights. I am a terrible housekeeper. I keep the kitchen and the bathroom mostly liveable at all times, I scoop litterboxes regularly, and I do clean up obvious messes that are clearly out of place (cat vomit, food splatter, errant toiletries). I even keep up mostly with sweeping as I like to pad around barefoot or in socks.

But when it comes to, say, vacuuming the cat hair off the couch or dusting, I am Not Good. I’ve also lived alone for so long that I’ve gotten in the horrible habit of embarking on a Project – hanging knickknack boxes; reconditioning my leather goods in the wake of The Mold Issue (it was penicillin-ish, not the black stuff, praise the baby Jesus) – and quitting part of the way through (usually because of time constraints and a commitment of some kind), leaving the evidence scattered in my wake. (Currently on my floor are a pile of shoes, boots, and purses and some leather cleaner. My knickknack boxes and said knickknacks are strewn across the dining room table and the hearth of my wood stove. My intentions are good. I know that I want to complete these projects and honor the energy I spent starting them. Sadly, motivation and energy are not available On Demand in my life, and significant time elapses between the beginning of the project and the cleaning up of the aftermath.

I have cats. Cats come with shed hair and the occasional DIY beach simulation beyond the litter box. Dust happens. It happens with alarming regularity and perseverance. It’s most pronounced on the shelves that don’t get touched very often (all the stuff that’s just for looking at; the bookshelves that are too rarely visited). As my media consumption leans further toward streaming, dust has enveloped the stereo, CD racks, and TV console. If anyone besides me saw the state to which I’ve allowed my home to be taken over by the assorted cobwebs (imagine Ms. Havisham’s tablescape), I would have the sense to be ashamed. I would also shrug, rail against the social expectations that single home-owning women are expected to meet, and usher my guest out the door to attend whatever function has brought them over in the first place.

At this point it is fair to ask why I don’t just hire a cleaning service. Well. Remember that whole lack of energy and motivation thing? There are conditions in which I am willing to live, but I would never ask someone to clean up after me until my home was in some sort of organized and settled initial state. It’s been at least two and a half years since I can honestly say this has been the case. (That’s not even including the dresser drawer that is almost certainly on the bedroom floor.

First, the cats moved in. I took in the cats when they were three and their owner was moving out of state. His situation involved temporary lodging with a friend and the cats weren’t welcome, so Jack and Lily (formerly Jill) came to live with me. When they came, I’d been a cat-free home for just about a year. Long enough to get rid of litterboxes and food bowls, but not long enough to pull up the wall-to-wall carpet the house came with. And I really wanted to get the carpet up, as my dearly departed Bo, who is really the reason I bought this house, was bulimic for most of his life. And his life was a long one, so he had his own crotchety habits, which included peeing in places that were not the litter box. I cleaned up behind him to the best of my ability, but my guess was that new cats would be able to tell he’d left parts of himself behind. (Besides the handful of whiskers that I collected when they fell out. Did I mention I’m a witch?)

Since the cat acquisition was, on my timeline, relatively rushed, and my bookshelves and couch are heavy, I made the executive decision to cut what carpet I could get to away and go back for the remnants later. The cats are now six, this is officially their Gotcha month, and three years later, we’re all still living with those remnants and the exposed paint splattered plywood floor revealed by removing the carpet. (We’ve also learned a hard lesson about how much insulation that carpet provided in the winters since its removal.)

I had every intention of putting down new flooring, but that requires money. Which I had more of before The Mold Incident.

The Mold Incident announced itself most obviously on a leather duffel bag I brought home from India (21 inches long for $45 US and I had acquired more than my suitcase could hold) and a leather backpack I got in Italy (25 years ago). A person other than myself would have assessed and remediated the situation in a timely fashion, I imagine. I know people exist who don’t have anxiety about phone calls and who get things done rather than letting them pile up, and I wish one of them lived in my house. (Future significant other, I’m looking at [for] you.) I, on the other hand, let the situation continue to worsen until it was obvious that the problem was not going away, no matter how hard I ignored it.

One mold inspection later, I was assured that the mold was of the friendly green-ish antibiotic kind and not the deadly black kind, and assured that the problem was simply one of humidity. Encapsulating my crawl space and installing drainage and a sump pump would keep the mold from coming back. (Remember those two thousand-year floods that destroyed historic Ellicott City twice in three years? I live up the hill from historic Ellicott City and my town also flooded in that second storm. I knew that water was sitting in my crawl space when I saw a wet spot on my bedroom floor.)

Cleaning the mold that was already in the house would cost, I was told, somewhere around $5K. Or I could do it myself, using a one-to-one combination of white vinegar and blue Dawn. All I had to do was wipe down all of the walls, ceilings, furniture, and exposed surface. And launder every article of clothing in my closet and coat rack. A friend lent me a garment rack that lived in my dining room as I took everything out of the closet and put back the mold-free stuff, culling for things that could go to donation bags because my closet was Way Too Full.

I finally gave back the garment rack, but the pile of shoes and bags remains. And the cleaning every exposed surface fizzled out (though the bucket, rags, and ingredients remain at the ready). Encapsulating the crawl space required getting in there and cleaning everything out (the pile of mildewed insulation was…something), which required pulling up part of the floor in the spare room. (Where my contractor saw the places in the floor likely to cave in and installed three new joists to prevent that. He also replaced the part of the wall in the closet that was secretly a hole hidden under siding and, while he was at it, finished the siding on the house that was begun when he built me a new utility room.)

Are you tracking the costs that are adding up? Clearing the crawl space, installing the joists, hanging the siding, and finally the encapsulation itself. Altogether, I basically bought a new economy car and shoved it under my house. The only part of it I can see is the siding, and that’s not even the color I really wanted (because the color I wanted was “premium”; for the sake of all you hold holy get the big things the way you really want them if you possibly can [that should probably go for the small things too]). And my floors are still paint splattered plywood.

(PM)

The hanging of the siding knocked lots of pictures and knickknacks from the walls, which led to the removal of a shelf that held the knickknacks, which revealed paint that needs to be touched up. Well, there’s no point in doing the floors until the walls are painted. Okay, but there’s a fist-sized hole in the electrical panel in the spare room that needs to be patched first. Which I can finally get to now that the HVAC is installed. Did I mention the new HVAC system? Maybe it was a new midline car, one third of which is in the attic.

Where was I?

I’m learning, as I contemplate all of the things I have to move and decide whether to keep and clean, that ownership is one thing, but maintenance of stuff is a different issue. Maybe this is a thing other people learn when they are much younger. Addict. Depressed. Brain issues. Bear with me. I understand that cars involve maintenance costs; so do pets and children. And houses in general require upkeep that isn’t associated with other living situations. I knew relatively early on that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the costs of having a kid – even if I could make it work financially, there are no days off in bed when you’re a parent. I knew I’d made the right decision when a friend told me that for him, parenting made the highs higher and the lows lower. I can’t afford any lower lows.

So I don’t have kids, because on my own, I can’t afford them. I have a 15-year-old car that’s paid for, but also requires the occasional costly repair. It’s easier for me to coax occasional lump sums than a new monthly payment out of my budget, so I hold on to the car and maintain it to the best of my ability. I have a lot of books, which are pretty self-sufficient once they’re shelved, and theoretically it’s easy to wipe the dust from a bookshelf, unless you are a person who has so much stuff some of it gets propped up in front of the books. See if you can guess if I am that kind of person. (Spoiler: I am.)

[bettas-and-other-oddities]

Basic Betta Care Guide:

This will be a bare minimum care guide for betta care. As with most of everything on this blog, it is mostly going to be based on my experience of keeping bettas, stuff that I have researched, and full of sarcasm. Please, with any new pet, do research of your own to ensure that you know how to properly take care of your animal, or you may end up torturing or killing your animal.

TANK SIZE

There is a bit of debate on the betta community about the minimum tank size for a betta fish. In my eyes, a 5 gallon (~19L) for a permanent home. You can use a 2.5 for a small hospital tank, or for a temp tank if you suddenly came into ownership of a betta. If you choose a 2.5, please look into getting at least a 5 gallon (~19L) for your betta. Bettas love lots of space to swim and explore, as well as water quality is easier to maintain in a large tank. 5 gallons (~19L) are also the smallest tank that can safely maintain a stable tank cycle. Besides, the bigger the tank, the more you can decorate.

CYCLE YOUR TANK

The niteogen cycle is this big long process that is invisible to the eye. A short hand explanation is basically benificial bactera grows in your tank when you have an ammonia source, like fish waste, and it grows and grows until the bacteria is able to convert your ammonia and waste into other chemicals and such. I'm not so great at describing cycling, so here is a great link to look into!

Cycling your tank is a long and boring process, and it can happen anywhere between 2-8 weeks. Its long and boring, but putting a fish in an uncycled tank (also called fish in cycling) can be detrimental to your fish, as it usually results in stress, ammonia burns, and even death. Here is another link in case you are reading this after you added a fish to a new aquarium.

You can use bottled bacteria, like Seachem stability, API quick start, or Tetra safe start to help speed it up, but there are some discussions on whether or not they actually help. You can also ask a friend that has tanks if you can have some of their filter media to add into your filter. I don't recomend getting pet store filter media, as you could accidentally introduce sickness or parasites.

A FILTER AND HEATER ARE REQUIRED, NOT OPTIONAL

Most people assume that a betta can just live in a cute little bowl for its whole life. Which is so wrong. Your tank absolutely needs a filter and a heater. Filters help keep a stable nitrogen cycle and helps reduce maintenance. A heater is needed as bettas are tropical fish, coming from places like Malaysia and Thailand where temps are a nice warm 78-90°. With a heater in your tank, it should keep your betta tank at a toasty 78-80° F ( 25-27° C). A cold tank can lower your bettas immune system which leads to illness, as well as it slows their metabolism and activity levels. A good filter and heater is key to a happy bettas. Here is a diagram of what wattage heater is needed for your tank size!

TANK DECORATIONS

Getting a new tank can be exciting when it comes to picking out decorations! But take a minute to think about them before you go hog wild on them. Bettas have very beautiful, and very delicate fins. You have to find decorations that won't cut up your new betta buddy. Live plants are a great option. They are very soft, and even help with your water quality. Low tech plants don't require a ton of additional care, and can look amazing. Here is a link to a website that gives you info on some easy to care for aquarium plants!

If you don't want to try out live plants, silk plants are also a good option for bettas. They are very papery plants that are soft and safe for a bettas fins. I have silk plants in both of my bettas tanks. They are also easier to clean, with just some hot water and a clean, non soapy toothbrush.

If you want non-plant decorations, its really inportant to make sure there are no sharp edges. You can test this by taking a nylon stocking and dragging it across the decorations. If it catches, it might not be so safe for fragile fins.

Always check the inside of your hides. It can be super soft and smooth in the outside, but the inside can have the sharp edges of seals and other things. Make sure your betta cant get stuck in them, as well.

Bettas also like to have a very heavily planted tank. They are fearful in large open spaces. Here is a couple ideas of a good betta tank.

PICKING OUT YOUR BETTA

Picking out a new buddy can be the most exciting part of starting the hobby. Its really important to decide where you want to get your betta. If you decide to go online and order a betta, make sure there are good reviews on the breeder. If people say that their betta never arrived, died during shipping and had to pay for a dead betta, or there is just poor quality bettas, its best to look for a different breeder. A good breeder will have a variety of pictures of the betta, and will be able to answer your questions about the betta you're intersted in. They also will have some good reviews. You can always ask the betta community for recommendation for breeders. I don't have a lot of experience with getting bettas online, so I don't have a lot of info on them. ***

If you plan on getting your betta at a pet store or local fish store, there are still some things to look for. You want to make sure the betta is active, and alert. They should also have healthy fins for their tail type. Small tears are okay of you plan on keeping your water clean and healthy. I don't recommend beginners going out and "rescuing" a sick betta, as you won't have a lot of experience dealing with illnesses, and could potentially end up with a dead betta within days of purchasing the fish. If you are experienced and want to help a sick fish, go ahead and help it.

Its also a good idea to go to the store, look at the bettas, and go home and research the type of betta you liked the most. Some betta types have lots of health issues. Twin tails are more susceptible to swim bladder, dragon scales often go blind, and "rarer" breeds like black orchids and platinum can have health issues from breeding. Pet store bettas are also just in general less healthy than normal due to the disgusting amount of over breeding.

TANK MAINTENCE

Now that you have everything set up, you have your betta buddy, don't sit down and relax yet. There is still a lot of care maintaining your new tank. Usually you need to conduct 25-30% weekly water changes on your tank, and also make sure everything in your tank is healthy. Maintence can include water changes, cleaning the inside of the glass to clean off algae, trimming back plants when the get too long, and cleaning your gravel. A lot of new fish keepers just assume you can throw a fish in a tank and that's all there is too it. Unfortunately, that's not the case. A fish tank is maintence. If that's not for you, its best to stop reading and consider a pet rock or a fake houseplant. Not keeping up on your maintence can lead to a gross looking tank and sometimes death.

FEEDING AND FOOD

Its easy to feed a betta, but harder to find a food that's actually good for your betta. Sure, it can eat goldfish flakes, but its not good for it. Usually for food, I recommend frozen blood worms, daphnia worms, fluval bug bites, and omega one betta pellets. Its good to vary up your bettas diet.

The pet store may tell you that you only need to feed your betta once a week, but thats usually because bettas are in cups and they need to reduce waste, and the bettas don't need that many calories. Your betta at home is going to need more food. I feed my bettas almost every day, with fasting days throughout the week. Its important to know that a bettas stomach is only about the size of their eye, and over feeding is really easy. They only need 2-4 pellets of food per day. You can split that up into two feedings, or do it all at once. As much as your betta begs for food, don't over feed them. It can lead to health issues.

WHAT TO DO IF YOUR FISH GETS SICK

You can do everything right, and keep your water pristine, and still end up with some sort of sickness. And that's okay! Most illnesses are very treatable. The most common illnesses with bettas are swim bladder and fin rot. Swim bladder is usually caused by over feeding. Here is a link to a website that better explains it, and how to treat it!

The other most common one is fin rot. This usually happens due to a cut on the fins that gets infected. It can look like a black or red outline on the fins, and the fins look tattered and broken. Here is a picture of my late fish Tofu that had a bad case of fin rot.

Usually, warm clean water and taking out decorations that are sharp will help. If it doesn't, there are some awesome over the counter medications you can get to help it. Stay away from pimafix or melafix, as they are mostly tea tree oil and the oil will end up coating the bettas labyrinth organ and suffocate the betta.

If your betta doesn't look or act normal, consult a veterinarian or ask a local betta keeper/expert, and they can help you.

Here is a website that I like that helps with betta diseases.

SHOPPING LIST

Here is a quick shopping list of things you will need to set up a new tank!

Tank at least 5gallons (~19L)

Water conditioner (I recomend Seachem Prime)

Soft decorations/plants/gravel

Heater

Filter (depending on the filter I would get filter floss to house your bacteria)

(Optional) bottled bacteria

API master test kit to test your parameters

Water siphon/gravel vac (helps with water changes)

Betta food

Your new betta buddy (for after you've set up and cycled your tank)

I hope that this was helpful to people wanting to get into the hobby. Please feel free to reblog and add things as you see fit! I hope you guys enjoy!

***I usually get my fish from my local pet store. I don't quite know how the fish process is when ordering from an online breeder, I only know as much as comparing it to getting a dog from a breeder. Please feel free to reblog or messege me with a more accurate explanation/guide to betta breeders!

[koparatnewton-blog]

Thinking of Buying a Condo Hotel? Here Are 20 Things You Need to Know!

1. What is a condo hotel or condotel?

Think of a condo hotel (also sometimes called a condotel or hotel condo) as buying a condominium, although one that is part of a four-star caliber hotel. Therefore, as an owner, when you are on vacation, you'll get the benefit of more four-star services and amenities than you'd get in a typical condominium.

2. What types of services and amenities are found in condo hotels?

If you can imagine the niceties you'd find in an upscale hotel, then you can picture a condo hotel. Among the features are often resort-style pools, full-service spas, state-of-the-art fitness centers, fine dining restaurants, concierge services and room service. have a peek at this web-site Kopar at Newton

In some locations, like Las Vegas, you'll find condo hotels with their own casinos, retail areas, and entertainment venues. In places like Orlando, you'll find condo hotels with their own water parks and convention facilities.

3. What is the difference between a condo hotel and a traditional condominium?

The big difference between a hotel and a condo hotel is that a hotel typically has one owner, either individual or corporate, but a condo hotel is sold off unit by unit. Therefore, a 300-room condo hotel could have as many as 300 unit owners.

4. Is it evident to hotel guests whether they're staying in a condo hotel or a traditional hotel?

A hotel guest will likely never know that the hotel has multiple owners because the property is operated just like a traditional hotel and often under the management of a well-known hotel company like Hilton, Hyatt, Starwood, Trump or W. Also, each of the individual condo hotel units will look identical in design and décor to every other, just as they would in a traditional hotel.

5. Who typically buys condo hotels?

They're primarily sold to people who want a vacation home but do not want to deal with the hassles typically associated with second home ownership such as maintaining the property or finding renters in the off season.

6. What is the demographic of the typical condo hotel buyer?

The spectrum of condo hotel buyers is pretty broad. There are families that want a second home in a vacation destination. There are baby boomers who are at or nearing retirement and want somewhere they can "winter." There are also plenty of investors who purchase a condo hotel unit with little intention of ever using it; they're in it for the potential appreciation of the real estate.

7. Can you live in a condo hotel?

Condo hotels are not typically offered as primary residences. In fact, many of them limit the unit owner's usage of the condo hotel unit (typically 30-60 days per year) because the unit is expected and needed in the hotel's nightly rental program where it can be offered to guests and generate revenue.

8. Who gets the money when your condo hotel is rented out?

The hotel management company splits the rental revenue with the individual condo hotel owner. While the exact percentages vary from property to property, the typical rental split is in the 50%-50% range.

9. Who finds hotel guests and then cleans and maintains the condo hotel units?

The hotel management company markets the property and books hotel guests. It also maintains the unit and ensures the smooth operation of all of the hotel's services and amenities.

10. What are the advantages / disadvantages of purchasing a condotel over purchasing typical rental properties?

Advantages include:

· Hassle-free ownership; no landlord issues

· Rental revenue to offset some or maybe all ownership expenses

· A fantastic vacation home available for use whenever you want

· A real estate investment at a time when other investments may seem less attractive

· Strong likelihood of appreciation

· Pride of ownership --"I own a piece of a Trump"

Disadvantages include:

· Annual cash flow could be equal to or less than annual ownership costs

· Pets are usually not welcome.

· An owner's condo hotel unit may be rented when the owner wants to it, so advance reservations are required to guarantee availability.

· The condo hotel unit is subject to the same dips in the market that affect all hotels in the competitive market set: hurricanes, terrorist threats, warm winters up north, price of gas, etc., all of which can affect a unit's occupancy rate and the amount of revenue it generates.

11. Are condo hotel units difficult to finance?

Not at all, but they do take 20% down typically, whereas condos can be purchased with less cash down. It's also important to make sure you use a mortgage broker who has had success in getting condo hotel financing deals done. Many banks still do not do them, but more and more are getting involved as condo hotels become more widely available.

12. How long have condo hotels been around and where are they located?

Condo hotels have been around for several decades, but the huge surge of four-star and five-star condo hotels that have been making their way across the country, started around year 2000 in the Miami area. The Miami-Fort Lauderdale area still has the most condo hotels, but areas like Orlando and Las Vegas are developing condo hotel properties at an even faster rate and will likely surpass South Florida soon. Other up-and-coming areas are places like the Bahamas, Panama, Dominican Republic, Mexico, Canada and Dubai.

13. How much do condo hotel units cost?

That's like asking how much a car costs. There are different quality condo hotels. Some require greater amounts of money than others, obviously.

There are inexpensive condo hotels out there for as little as $100,000. These are typically found in properties that have converted their use from an existing hotel. They are hotel room-sized, lack kitchen facilities, luxury franchises, and other first-class amenities.

Then there are the four-star or greater properties that may start in the $300,000 to $400,000 range, but can go all the way up to $800,000 just for a studio unit. One- and two-bedroom units cost substantially more than a studio. Of course, the studios do come fully furnished and finished, and will be significantly larger in size than a typical hotel room, and may attract guests because of its name like St. Regis, Ritz or W.

14. What are typical maintenance costs?

On average about $1.00 to $1.50 per sq. ft., but the range can exceed $2.00 sq. ft. in the most luxurious properties.

15. Do you buy condo hotel units after they have been built, or can you purchase condo hotels in pre-construction?

Unless you are in a hurry to get started vacationing or you need to complete a 1031 exchange, it's best to buy condo hotels in pre-construction as early as possible. That's when prices are lowest and unit selection is greatest. You will likely wait two years or longer before closing on and taking possession of your condo hotel unit, but you will have locked in the price and will get the benefit of maximum appreciation.

16. Is there anything else investors should want to know about condotels?

There is more to buying this type of real estate than the old phrase, "location, location, location." While most condo hotels are located in desirable resort and business area locations, what is most important is a good franchise with a strong reservation system.

Also, do not be fooled by an aggressive rental split. One way or the other, the developer of the property will have to staff, maintain and operate the hotel and its services like the restaurants, bars, spas and pools from his share of the proceeds. If he's giving you a very favorable share of the rental, he's also more likely to be charging you a higher monthly maintenance fee. Of course, this goes both ways. If the maintenance split that is offered is closer to 50-50, then your maintenance should be more reasonable too.

17. Any suggestions to investors in choosing which condo hotel to buy?

Get good advice. That means you don't want to rely only on the pitch provided by an onsite salesperson at a condo hotel. You want to talk with a broker who specializes in condo hotels and who knows and understands the entire condo hotel market, not just the facts pertaining to a single property. He or she will listen to your wants and needs and then offer recommendations as to which properties best match your requirements. You'll have an opportunity to comparison shop and consider the pros and cons of each available property.

A good broker can be the difference between your buying a condo hotel that will be problematic and not live up to your expectations or one that will provide you with years of great vacations, good annual revenue and a substantial profit when you sell.

18. Does it cost more to use a real estate broker to purchase a condo hotel than buying a unit on one's own?

No. With new condo hotel properties, the prices are always set by the developer and are exactly the same whether you buy directly from an onsite salesperson at the property or using a broker.

The broker's commission is always paid by the developer and is already built into the price regardless of whether an outside broker participates in the sale or not. Since a broker's representation is free to buyers, it does make sense to enlist their aid and get the benefit of their advice before making a purchase.

19. How can prospective buyers find a good condo hotel broker?

Ask friends for broker recommendations or search online for "condo hotel broker." Visit condo hotel broker websites and see if the information they provide seems comprehensive and unbiased. If their website seems to focus on selling homes or office space, and the condo hotel information appears to be an afterthought, steer clear. Your best bet is to work with a condo hotel broker who specializes.

20. How can buyers learn about new condo hotel properties coming on the market?

Condo hotel brokers can be good information sources as they often learn about properties prior to their release to the general public. Another option is for them to subscribe to a condo hotel newsletter such as the one we publish called Condo Hotel Property Alert.

[imaginedanganronpa]

Can you please do some headcanons on how the DR2 cast would land themselves in detention? It’s for comedy.

This one took a long time, I hope you enjoy! It was super fun to write.

How The SDR2 Cast Would Get Detention!

Hajime Hinata

He is a good student who rarely gets in trouble. When hedoes, it’s for pretty minor things. With that said, he also rarely loses his temper.

Hajime was good friends with Chiaki but their relationship started to causequestions to arise within the other Reserve Course students. 

Rumors were spreading that he was using her to sneak into the Ultimate program.This really got under Hajime’s skin but what could he do to stop it? Pretty soon, everyone was giving him the cold shoulder.

He overheard two of the other Reserve students snickering as he walked by andhe just lost it. 

“What?” The other two boys, whom he has never seen before, stare at Hajime withsmug grins. “Take that back, now.”

His eyes were flashing with red. Hajime doesn’t get angry easily but he’lldefend his friends if he needs to, putting their interest above his own.

“Admit it, you’re using that girl… what’s her name, Chiaki?” 

In a fit of blind rage, Hajime slips his shirt off and storms up to the otherstudents, shirtless and getting in their face. “I said take it back!” 

You’d think that the half-nudity would be enough. When the teachers finallycame to their aide, breaking up a potential fight before it could happen, theyslapped a detention slip into Hajime’s hands.

Staring down at the small paper slip, it read that he was getting detention for a Dress Code Violation.

He assumed that it was because he took off his shirt and tried punching thesmug little kids, but… no, not entirely. Once he stomped down to the detentionroom, the proctor welcomed him and examined the slip.

He’s a pretty calm, collected kid with a good head on his shoulders so his reaction to the rumors caused him to feel embarrassed. Plus, some of the adults got on him for interacting with the Ultimate students already.

“Oh, so you’re the kid who was exposing his shoulders, huh?”

Hajime, puzzled, looks at the man. “My… shoulders?”

Chiaki Nanami

Sleeping in class is a given, but she just can’t help it.It’s something she’s gotten in trouble for in the past but has since slippedby. The adults started to accept it since she’s a good student, regardless of sleeping so much.

Ever since she became Class Representative, though, the teachers haven’t beenso lenient towards Chiaki. 

She is the Ultimate Gamer so bringing her video games to class is not out of the ordinary andsomething that most people don’t mind, at least not until it becomes adistraction.

The rest of her class were slowly beginning to huddle around her as she played,her fingers dancing along the controller and her eyes were glued to the screen.Chiaki completely zoned out everything Chisa was saying.

More than once, she tried getting the Gamer’s attention and eventually shesnapped. “Everyone, get away from Chiaki right now! Pay attention.”

But not even that could bring her back to reality. The faint sounds of her gamein the background still playing, she stormed up to the small girl. 

Chisa, as politely as possible, grabbed the system out of her hands and placedit behind her back. It caused her to lose the Level and, being newly sleep-deprivedand overly-invested in the game, Chiaki let her tongue slip.

“What the fuck… come at me bro.”

Her expression was still blank but the comment wasn’t very highly appreciated,seen more as a threat.

Chisa sent her directly to detention and the rest of her class watched, astonished, as their Representative became one of the ‘bad kids’ even for just a day.

What can she say? She really loves her games.

Nagito Komaeda

Knowing Nagito, he’d do something that ends up goinghorribly wrong.

He just wanted to plan out a surprise for his class, baking them sweet treatswith the help of Teruteru. Nagito had good intentions but his luck isn’t veryreliable. 

He also decided to slip into Seiko’s lab and ask her for some vitamins to makethem taste better, not really believing in his baking skills. He left Teruteru alone with the sweets, giving him an ampleopportunity to slip some unwanted Aphrodisiacs into the food. 

Nagito also grabbed the wrong bottle without looking, accidentally swiping someLaxatives instead.

But he was so proud of what he’d made, he had to share it with everyone! Hemade sure to stop by the Teacher’s Lounge and the Headmaster’s Office as wellsince he had more leftovers than expected. 

And he didn’t want to eat his own baked goods since that’s just not respectful;it wasn’t meant for him but for his friends instead. So, Nagito didn’t get a chance to taste-test the food beforehand.

Well, those good intentions went out the window. Teruteru didn’t know about the Laxatives, and Nagito didn’t know about the Aphrodisiacs, which is a killercombination. 

It was bad enough that his entire class and Chisa had consumed the foodcontaining the two, but to make matters worse, so did the higher-up staffmembers, including Headmaster Jin. For the entire day, those who ate it were in and out of the bathroomand stumbling all over one another in the process, heated and intimate… to put it lightly. Nagitodidn’t really understand, was it that good?

He’d only realized he took the wrong bottle when it was too late, and Teruteruconfessed to slipping in the extra drug while in his… hot state. But Nagito gotblamed for it all and ultimately sentenced to detention.

“Damn, just my luck!”

Ibuki Mioda

She’s definitely a firecracker but Ibuki doesn’t have evilintentions, so she’d do something without really intending to. 

Ibuki would be in the Music Room, practicing and writing songs as she always did. Shehas the tendency to skip classes to have her own personal concert instead.

Her signature flame guitar would have some part in it.

It didn’t take the staff very long to find her holed up in the MusicRoom, the loud heavy metal blaring from inside was a dead giveaway. 

Knocking on the door,they call for her name with no response, it was too loud and the musician couldn’t hear them.

The door swings open to find Ibuki completely lost in the music. So much so,that when she finally notices the cluster of adults standing in the doorway sheturns quickly to give them a good view of the show. 

Unfortunately, she completely forgot about the flames shooting out from herguitar which lit the front of the room on fire, knocking over some rather expensive equipment in the process.

The entire school had to be evacuated immediately, students and teachers alikerushing through the doors for their lives. The Fire Department also had to becalled, which lead Ibuki to explain how she started the fire that nearly burneddown the entirety of Hope’s Peak Academy.

She can’t help herself from giggling and got sent to detention for a ‘Terroristic Act Against the School.’

Hey, she thought that sounded pretty cool! Maybe she’ll name a song after that.

Gundham Tanaka

Being the Ultimate Animal Breeder, everyone is well-aware ofhis love for and ownership of all kinds of species. Hope’s Peak does allow Service Animals and gives specialprivileges to those with animal-related talents.

Which is why he’s able to bring his hamsters, or Four Dark Devas of Destruction, with him eachday.

Here and there, he’ll bring another one of his various pets as well. He’sbrought a couple cats on some days, and during others he’s brought one of his smalldogs. Gundham has walked into class with a bird perched on his shoulder before,too. You never know what he’ll bring to class.

But there’s still a line that even he can’t cross.

And everyone knows that Gundham has pets that he probably shouldn’t, but that’s whyhe’s an Ultimate after all!

His hamsters are never a disturbance and everyone has come to know and lovethem. Cats, dogs, and birds aren’t too much of a hassle as long as he keeps upwith them.

It’s not until he tries sneaking bigger animals in that there’s an issue. 

The first strike was his ball-python which isn’t venomous, but some of theother students with less experience around snakes were still a little bitfrightened. It stayed curled around his neck all day, hidden in his scarf.

He jumped straight to strike three when he walked up to the front door with a full-grown Tiger on a leash. Juzo stopped him immediately and forbade him fromentering the building. 

“What do you mortals know about the beauty of this feline?! She will pouncebefore you even know what is happening! Do not mess with me!”

Though he claims that she was domesticated, his… threats weren’t appreciated.So he and his Tiger spent the day in detention.

Mikan Tsumiki

The poor thing doesn’t try to end up in the compromisingpositions… it just kind of, happens. She can’t help that she’s clumsy!

By now, everyone in her class is pretty used to it. The same doesn’t go for theother Ultimates in different classes or the Reserves, though.

She’d be late to class one day; Mikan is already an emotional wreck. She’scrying and rushing through the hallway because she was already going to beembarrassed enough having to walk into class after it started.

Mikan is pushing past the others in the hall politely, apologizing the entiretime when she just… trips. Her foot catches on the opposite ankle and she goescollapsing, falling forward.

She’d fall on top of a few innocent students with her legs slightly spread,back arched a bit, skirt accidentally flipping up, and wrists falling above herhead. The student that she fell on was a complete stranger, someone she’dnever seen before nevertheless had a conversation with.

“Oh God, I’m sorry! I’m so very sorry!”

Both of their faces are bright red now and she erupts into a fit of tears. 

Though she didn’t intend on falling or ending up in this predicament, theteacher that had been standing just outside of her classroom while the studentsfiled in witnessed it happen and immediately was at a loss for words.

“You, miss!” She exclaims while storming towards Mikan. “Explain yourself!”

“I-It’s not what it looks like~!” Mikan pleas but the teacher is having none ofit. She got sent straight to detention for sexual advances on another student,PDA, and indecent public exposure. 

She’d walk into detention in a fit of tears because she didn’t mean to!

Kazuichi Souda

He may be a Mechanic but Kazuichi is quite skilled in manyaspects of technology as a whole. He doesn’t just have to work on cars,airplanes, and so on but he is also handy with your everyday laptop as well.

Kazuichi’s sense of humor is fairly peculiar. 

He’ll do things for his own amusement even if no one asks him to and if youever dare him to do something, he’ll complete it without a doubt. 

One day, he got the bright idea to pull a little prank on Chisa. He knew thattheir class was going to watch a film about the history of Hope’s Peak Academy thatafternoon and decided to have a little fun with it.

Kazuichi got to class earlier than the rest of his peers, whilst Chisa wasrunning errands for Munakata, and rewired her laptop. 

His mind was racing with ideas when he finally settled on the perfect video toreplace the film with. 

He was able to set it up so that he could control the video with a remotecontrol at his own disposal. Unfortunately, Chisa was in a rather hostile moodthat day and wasn’t feeling like dealing with Kazuichi’s shenanigans.

In the middle of the film, he switched the button and it started playing noneother than the classic Rick Roll, ‘Never Gonna Give You Up.’

His classmates were dead silent for a moment, all wide-eyed and trying toprocess what they were looking at – of course he had to Rick Roll his wholeclass.

Kazuichi couldn’t hold back his amusement, his smile twisting widely andbursting into a fit of loud laughter. Chisa immediately knew that this had tobe his doing.

He got sent to detention for the rest of the day, but if you ask him – it wascompletely worth it.

Peko Pekoyama

Meditating was her go-to form of de-stressing. It’s where shecould be found during most of the day.

As the Ultimate Swordswoman, her sword was never too far from her side. Pekohad locked herself in the quiet room for hours so she could melt away fromreality for a while.

Her peace was disrupted once the doors swung open and her eyes darted over hershoulder.

Peko’s intensely quick reflexes were nearly the death of Hope’s Peak’scustodian, as she launched her sword over her shoulder blindly, not bothering to look and see whowas there, and snipping the ends of the custodian’s hair in the process.

The blade was stuck in the wall, mere inches from their face as their eyeswidened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here!”

Despite being known as the Ultimate Swordswoman, even Peko can’t go aroundtossing swords at people’s faces with no repercussions.

She was sent to the Office immediately where she showed absolutely no remorse. 

“They shouldn’t have sneaked up on a meditating trained killer – that’s how youend up with a sword in your neck.”

The adults in the room tried to explain to her why that isn’t socially acceptable,in which Peko calmly responded with, “Do you want to find out why I’m anUltimate?”

Done with her shit, they sent her to detention and she put up a bit of a fight. Peko didn’t understand what the big deal was. She wasn’t trying to violently threaten the staff, that’s just the way they took it!

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

He’s got a big mouth which is something no one candeny, not even Fuyuhiko himself.

It just comes with the attitude and pressure that the Yakuza has on his plate, and a bit ofa superiority complex as well.

He didn’t fully respect a lot of the adults he was surrounded by which lead toa lot of conflict. Typically speaking, though, the adults understand due to hisbackground and don’t tend to mess with him since he is a Kuzuryuu after all.

They just treated him like a little kid, and he’s not a fuckin’ little kid!

They had a substitute teacher one day who wasn’t completely aware of their talents andbegan to push Fuyuhiko’s buttons. Had she known he was a Yakuza, she wouldn’t have dared touch him with a ten-foot pole.

There were several ways that the situation could’ve been avoided.

But he snapped and stood on his desk, veins protruding from his neck and forehead. “Do you knowwho the fuck I am? I could have your head on my desk by the end of the day!”

Fuyuhiko has a fairly colorful way of speaking as well and he didn’t stopthere. Once the substitute demanded that he got down from the desk, he took itone step further.

“Leave me alone, lady! Or I’ll rip out your small intestine through your mouth,your large intestine out through your ass, and use them as a fuckingjump-rope!”

She stared at the Yakuza in complete shock. Once he finally calmed down andrealized what was said, he broke a sweat and shrugged.

He didn’t care if he got sent to detention, she shouldn’t have been bugging him!

Sonia Nevermind

She’s pretty new to Hope’s Peak and their school system, it’scompletely different than the one in her home country. 

With that said, Sonia had never gotten detention before in her life. Even aftertransferring, she was convinced that she couldn’t possibly get detention. The thought never crossed her mind.

Failing to realize that her status as a Princess doesn’t carry as much weighthere, she feels untouchable. Despite that, she’s a fairly well-behaved studentanyway.

Sonia can be a bit bossy, though. When Chisa had to step out to take care ofpersonal matters, she assumed that her leadership-abilities could come in handyand took the responsibility of ‘teaching the class’ which was more likecommanding them to doing as she pleased.

Most of them somewhat listened, although Hiyoko, Peko, and Fuyuhiko weren’tgoing to let her boss them around; meanwhile, Kazuichi happily obliged.

Chisa came back into the classroom to find Sonia lounging out in her chair withboth Kazuichi and Gundham tending to massaging her legs and ankles,competitively as they were each trying to impress the Princess. She had otherstudents bringing her tea and had self-proclaimed herself as the new leader oftheir class.

That’s not something she can just get away with so she had to be put in herplace, sent to detention at the end of the day. Sonia wasn’t going to gowillingly, though.

A bit air-headed, she blinks at Chisa, perplexed. “Youcan’t send me to detention, I am a Princess!” That really didn’t help her caseat all.

Nekomaru Nidai

He takes his talent a bit too seriously, even turningtowards his own friends to try to get them in the best shape possible. 

Nekomaru has good motives behind this but he doesn’t necessarily know when tostop. 

Jin and the other staff members were taking a relaxing stroll around campuswhen they stumble across the Team Manager huddled over a group of scrawnyReserve Course boys. 

“You have to pick it up!” Lightning was emerging from his eyes as he screams atthe boys, coming across as more bossy and threatening than motivating. “You’llnever get to be as strong as I am like that! Come on!”

The adults approach him and put an end to his… motivating ‘group exercise.’ Heinsisted that the boys came to him for help, knowing he was the Ultimate Team Manager. 

But the three small boys were now collapsed, passed out from exhaustion on thegrass. They can’t really have their students destroying one another.

Nekomaru may have wanted to help but pushed them entirely too far. As he wastrying to explain himself, his ‘urges’ suddenly came over him and he succumbedto the pressure.

He tells them he had to go, but Jin forces the Ultimate to stay right there.This caused Nekomaru to snap at the older man.

“Move or else! I have to shit!” He basically shoves him out of the way as hesprints for the nearest bathroom. Needless to say, the adults didn’t appreciatehim shoving his own Headmaster to the ground like that, almost injuring the man.

The two situations combined landed Nekomaru in detention for about a week.

Mahiru Koizumi

Mahiru wouldn’t even do anything that bad, she would justget caught in the middle or end up getting blamed for something out of hercontrol.

After all, the last thing she wants to do is jeopardize her placement in Hope’sPeak Academy. 

But even she isn’t immune to the pranks from fellow students. Her friendshipwith Sato puts her in danger of being targeted by one of the jealous and immature students in the Reserves Course. 

Some of the boys in Sato’s class sneak in fake nude photographs while neitherof the girls are looking. Mahiru leaves and goes about her merry way for therest of the day.

While leaving her class that afternoon, she stumbles over her ankle and dropsher bag onto the floor; her books, camera, and photos come tumbling out withit.

Of course, so do the fake ones that were slipped into her bag.

Chisa is helping her collect her items when she notices the fake photographs.They were ‘depictions’ of not only Mahiru herself but also some of the boys inher class.

“What is the meaning of this?” She holds them up to the freckled-facephotographer’s gaze and Mahiru’s expression twists into a confused and angrylook.

She is stuttering and snatches them from her hand, examining them for herself.“These weren’t here this morning! Y-you have to believe me, this isn’t mine!”

“Is this you?” She questions and Mahiru is bright red, a complete mess.Although she was telling the truth and truly didn’t know where they came from,Chisa wasn’t buying it.

She got sent to the Office with the incriminating photos in hand and ultimatelyfaced detention for the first time in her life.

Teruteru Hanamura

Anyone that knows this boy knows that it’s pretty hard forhim to keep it in his pants. Teruteru is a very flirty and adventures person with very little shame. It’s hard toembarrass him and when it comes to attractive people, especially women, he’sgot little to no filter.

He’d land himself in detention by flirting with the wrong person at the wrongtime.

Teruteru is walking down the hall one morning when he spots a new face, someonehe’s never seen before. 

Granted, he should have assumed she was a teacher of some sort based on the wayshe was standing outside her class as students filed in. 

But in that moment, he probably didn’t really care. That, or he was too blindedby love to notice.

She looked to be fairly young, and beautiful. Trust me, he would know if he’sseen her before.

Confidently, Teruteru waltzed up to her with a cocky grin plastered on hisface. “Hello, miss, my name is Teruteru Hanamura, Ultimate Cook… but I preferUltimate Chef,” he takes her hand in his and kisses the top, “we can cook upsomething hot between us… if you know what I mean.”

The young woman is a bit uncomfortable and draws her hand back slightly, kindlyasking him to turn away. “But miss, I believe in soulmates and I think you’remaking a big mistake by turning me down.”

She is growing increasingly frustrated and loses her cool, snapping and tellinghim to leave her alone in the kindest way possible. 

Obviously, he doesn’t get the hint. “I love a woman who can command me around.” 

With that last comment and over-exaggerated wink, she’s had enough, finallyrevealing her Substitute Teacher ID and claiming that she’s turning him in.

Teruteru’s stomach turns as he realizes what he’s done. He loves an olderwoman, but he would never have guessed that she was a teacher!

Hiyoko Saionji

I mean, if she doesn’t get detention for bullying thenthat’s a surprise, it’s not only Mikan but other students as well who face herrelentless torture.

Hiyoko was making a series of off-hand and rather rude comments directedtowards one of the other female students. 

Once she was finally approached, she gave the teacher a very sinister look andtold her to leave her alone, or else she’d squish them like a bug. 

Her threat was meant to be taken as light banter and simply part of herpersonality but it didn’t really land. Hiyoko was now arguing with the teacherand sent to the Office. 

The girl was already in a bad mood and having to talk to the Headmaster wasn’t helping.“So, I hear that you’ve been bullying fellow students?”

“I’m not bullying them if the bitch deserved it!” Hiyoko huffs with her armscrossed defensively over her chest. She’s jutting her jaw and staring at thewall angrily. 

Her behavior was certainly not the best and Jin began to scribble somethingdown onto her report. He started to say that she was going to be sent to detention for the day so he could sort out the situation with the otherstudents in question.

In a blind, heated moment, Hiyoko defensively stood. She truly felt like shehadn’t done anything wrong and was even nastier today than normal. So withoutthinking, she wrapped her small hands around the desk lamp and forcefully threwit onto the ground where it shattered.

As the bulb flickered, she exclaimed, “Lighten up!” Her pun didn’t sway Jinover, but instead only made the situation worse as he extended her sentence.

Byakuya Twogami (Imposter)

He’s a bit of a wildcard and an Ultimate for a reason. He’snot really afraid to take someone’s identity if it benefits him in any sort ofway. 

There was an upcoming Exam that he simply didn’t feel prepared for at all. But…he’s an Imposter so there could be some solution, right?

He decided to use his talent for his own gain and sneak into the Teacher’sLounge the morning before the Exam to swipe the answers. He knew that Chisacarried around a briefcase with all of her papers in it as well so he just needed to find her and he’s golden.

He steals none other than Kyosuke Munakata’s identity and slips happily intothe forbidden room. He bumps into Chisa on his way, knowing she’ll trust good ol’ Munakata!

“Oh, hello Munakata! How are you?” He fumbles with an excuse, choking out somelazy conversation. He then asks her if he can see her papers momentarily, andshe happily hands them over without second guessing the situation.

His plan was foolproof until the actual Kyosuke Munakata waltzes into theLounge and sees the Imposter sitting beside Chisa on the love-seat. His jaw drops and the Imposter doesn’t even notice the man standing in the doorway at first.

Her eyebrows furrow momentarily as she looks at the two Munakata’s before herand then puts the pieces together. The real one snatches the Imposter by hiscollar and demands that he explains himself.

After his cover got blown, he was sent to detention where to took the Exam witha proctor watching over his shoulder.

Akane Owari

She has a very strange schedule, essentially trainingwhenever she feels like it. This means that Akane often misses class to rampagearound the campus.

She had been pushing herself harder on this morning in particular, climbing the gatesbefore they opened and arriving at Hope’s Peak bright and early on purpose.

If illegal trespassing wasn’t enough, she missed almost an entire day of class. Herteacher found her climbing one of the buildings and insisted that she came downfrom there immediately.

Akane didn’t see the big deal, coming to class wasn’t mandatory for Ultimatesas long as they passed their Exams and she felt fine!

That wasn’t the issue, though: it was breaking into the school to train beforeclass even started that caused issues to arise.

As Akane jumped from the building, one of her buttons came undone.

She made a perfect landing, her legs hadn’t even wobbled despite the heightthat she jumped from. But… she was a bit ‘exposed’ to say the least.

Akane stood before her classmates and teacher, bra and nearly whole chestexposed. She stood there, proudly with a wide grin on her face. “Did ya seethat?!” 

Oh, they definitely did.

Once she finally noticed what they were staring at, she didn’t even bother tocover herself. “Oh well, school’s over anyway! Might as well enjoy the view!” Just because she’s in-tune with her sexuality doesn’t mean she’s allowed toflaunt it.

She got sent to a week’s-worth of detention for trespassing and nude exposure, complaining the whole time since it took time away from her training.

- Mod Rantaro

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Before changing ownership a decade previous, Tony’s Taphouse had been a biker bar called the Civic. Notorious for its rough clientele and routine bouts of violence, and for harbouring regulars who acted like nocturnal animals, most locals knew it as the Zoo. It had been the preferred haunt for the Hell’s Angels, who had long since been banned from the premises. 

“It took us a long time to turn things around,” my boss told me one night, while I manned the door for a Val Kilmer and the New Coke concert. A crowd of twenty-somethings were smoking all around us.

“Whenever we tried to get people to behave they’d say ‘don’t you know this is the Zoo?’ And I would say ‘yes, and I’m the new zookeeper’.”

My boss reminded me of a small child in an enormous body, slightly immature and with a propensity for breaking stuff. He had a reputation for overdoing things, to the point that the Nelson Police Department had nailed him for multiple assault charges. The other bouncers told me he was well known for choke-slamming unruly patrons into unconsciousness, which was the reason he was no longer allowed to assist us when we ejected the city’s shitheads and drunks. The guy was easily 300 pounds, and scary as hell when provoked. The rest of the time he was an amiable teddy bear, quick to laugh and always game to sing “Chocolate Salty Balls” from South Park at karaoke, much to the chagrin of his embarrassed wife. 

Most of my shifts were spent alongside a fellow ginger beard named Luke who liked playing bad cop to my good cop. During the day he worked at a pet food store, and he was well-known as a huge softie when it came to animals. While I had a tendency to treat Tony’s like my own personal Cheers, he was monosyllabic and ominous. Late into the night we would hang by the entrance swapping jokes and taking turns shovelling back lettuce wraps and chicken strips, clad in all black.

Eventually I suggested we should update our uniforms. There was a local barber named Chris Brach who bounced at Spiritbar and I admired how he dressed and carried himself like an old-school gentleman. We ultimately settled on matching vests with dress button-down shirts, with each bouncer choosing their favourite colour. I chose a blood red that was almost purple, while Luke went with sky blue. Eventually the whole team adopted this new look, making the whole place that much classier. 

Working at Tony’s gave me a whole new perspective on Nelson. I knew who was doing drugs, who was cheating on their spouse, and who was banned from the premises until they came grovelling back to the owners. The Nelson Leafs were preening and omnipresent as peacocks, and in the early hours of the evening I’d encounter the more wholesome members of society as they engaged in events like paint night. Sometimes people would approach me with the latest issue of the Nelson Star, commenting on stories or complimenting me on the cover photo. The print edition was becoming increasingly irrelevant, but Tony’s was one of the few places I could regularly see people consuming it alongside their beer.

From where we stood during our shifts, we looked out at a sports bar that took up the ground floor of the Adventure Hotel. Because we were open later than any other establishment in Nelson, we would watch as the late night crowd funnelled in our direction. Crowds of drunk twenty-somethings would march diagonally across the intersection, ignoring the cross-walks, and it was our job to interpret whether or not they could come into Tony’s based on their lurching gait. Some would nod solemnly when we denied them access, while others would whip themselves into deranged frenzies. They would scream their threats to the uncaring black sky, or demand to talk to the owners. These people pissed me off.

“You’re a good bouncer and everyone loves you, but the other staff have told me you have a tendency to go from zero to sixty pretty quick,” my other boss told me, during a performance review. She was the owner.

“We don’t think it’s a problem, but it’s something we want you to watch out for. Obviously this job can be stressful at times, so it’s up to you to keep your temper in check. It’s about customer service.”

Though there were plenty of threats of violence at Tony’s, it was rare that we actually had to put our hands on people. Most were cowed into submission by our size, and knew they had to play nice if they wanted continued access to the bar. We tried to kill them with kindness, calling them cabs and reassuring them that they’d be welcomed back once they sobered up. More than once I found myself consoling despondent drunks who were horrified by their own behaviour, going through a break-up, or grieving. Some were so confused and inebriated they didn’t know how to get home. I came to love these idiots, or at least most of them, because I considered them part of the Tony’s family.

The most interesting employee was a behemoth brute named Gordo, a holdover from the days of the Zoo, who looked exactly like a bearded Bobby Baccala. The female staff adored him because of his gentle, benevolent presence. He made people feel safe. He wasn’t a bouncer anymore because, like my boss, he’d gone overboard a few too many times. He lived downstairs and oversaw the daily operations, and was only called to help during emergencies. He was the type of guy you didn’t want to fuck with, ever. He loved Tony’s and everyone on staff intensely, and if violence was needed he was more than capable of dispensing it. I’d never met someone with such a fascinating mix of kindness and malevolence to his personality, and I admired how effectively he funnelled his anger in appropriate directions.

One night, during a slow period, he stood out on the street and regaled me with stories of his bouncing days in Toronto. During those years he’d been stabbed and shot multiple times, a fact he delivered with a shy chuckle.

“This one guy was shaking my hand, right? And with his other hand he stabbed me right here,” Gordo said, pointing to his rib cage.

“So I pulled him close to me and snapped his elbow backwards, just like this.”

Gordo recreated the scene with a smile on his face, demonstrating how the guy’s arm had bent the wrong way while the bones snapped and popped. He’d regained control of the situation while the knife was still plunged hilt-deep into his side. He laughed and wiped his eyes, remembering.

“I was a lot bigger back then, if you can imagine that. So the knife didn’t end up doing much damage. It didn’t hit anything significant. Meanwhile this guy’s a puddle on the ground in front of me, whimpering like a little girl.”

When I wasn’t on the door, I would work my way slowly through the lounge area and out to the back patio where people were allowed to smoke. There was a row of comfortable couches and a long counter where people could pull up stools and drink under the gaze of Elephant Mountain. At times I couldn’t believe I was being paid to socialize, and the dance floor playlist introduced me to a new favourite artist: a young Swedish woman named Tove Lo. If we’re talking body, she sang, You got a perfect one so put it on me. If you do me right, we’ll fuck for life, on and on and on. 

Paisley had finally moved home to be with her parents, and her absence had proven to be a boon to my mental health. I still missed my dogs desperately but I was finally free to move on without her constant surveillance and gossip. I decided early on that I wouldn’t date anyone on staff, but there was no shortage of young women who would find excuses to linger by the door or stand outside smoking, sizing me up. Most nights I was still ending up at Natalya’s, where I would crawl into her bed and cap the night off with an early morning fuck in the dark. She’d leave her front door unlocked and we’d pant through our routine without speaking a word. She’d resigned herself to the fact I wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, and she never bothered me with small talk. We had what we had, and that was it.

The sleep deprivation involved with working at Tony’s ended up meaning that I spent most of my weekends asleep, recovering in Brendan’s basement and only leaving the house for necessities. Sunday was my only day off, and I needed that down time to get in the right headspace for the Star. I had a couple of ambitious series going on, including one about the Columbia River Treaty, and I needed my mental faculties operating properly to adequately approach these subjects. I could sense that Ed was growing tired of my rock star attitude and reluctance to put in a full 40-hour work week. I kept finding myself asking why I was still there, but I didn’t have another option available. Both jobs and housing were scarce in Nelson, and I was barely holding on.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I told my friend Tia one night. She worked at the Hume Hotel but had started her own business called Wurst Dog. We’d been discussing whether I could find some sort of entrepreneurial gig to transition to once I was finished with journalism.

“You just have to take a chance and jump, kid,” she said. “Then see where you land. I’m sure there’s all kinds of people in this town who would give you a job doing social media or something.”

“Or maybe I could be a full-time bouncer and write on the side? Finally finish my manuscript? I dunno.”

Tia smiled and mussed my hair.

“I believe in you,” she said. “You’ve got this.”

The Kootenay Goon

[theinquisitivej]

A Quartet of Reviews: Missing Link, Pet Semetary, Shazam!, and Hellboy (2019)

Missing Link

As the technical accomplishments and detailed beauty of Laika’s stop-motion films are part of the reason I’ve chosen to study stop-motion animation for my current academic research, you’ll forgive me if I approach their fifth film with some bias. Plus, box office numbers suggest that a lot more people really should be seeing these, so the more voices there are singing Laika’s praises the better, frankly.

         Missing Link is notably ambitious in that it strives to deliver an action adventure in the vein of Around the World in 80 Days or The Mummy (the Brendan Fraser one, not the “DARK UNIVERSE” one- yes, that did happen, and it is hard to remember), with multiple thrilling and complex action sequences, all in stop-motion. Given the labour-intensive nature of stop-motion and the limitations you’d typically expect of a medium that’s executed through real models that have a weight and substance to them that makes them less flexibly fluid than cel or digital animation, stories with an emphasis on dynamic action aren’t what you’d typically expect when it comes to stop-motion. And yet Laika demonstrate their full commitment to making Missing Link an energetic blockbuster through impressive choreography and painstakingly realised action set-pieces. While the charming characters and light-hearted tone help you stay engaged with the narrative, you’ll be constantly taken back by the seamless merging of traditional methods and modern technology in the animation which makes you sit up and take notice as you wonder how they managed to put together each scene. The best use of digital effects are the times where you’re not entirely certain it’s even there, and Laika’s approach to this modern tool definitely fits in that category.

         The film never quite reaches a point of emotional intensity that leaves me completely floored, as some of Laika’s previous films have managed to do. I didn’t walk away from the film remembering a moment where a character’s vulnerabilities are laid bare or a difficult but essential lesson is imparted in the most brutally earnest way. So, when compared against ParaNorman or Kubo and the Two Strings, Missing Link left less emotional impact on me. Having said that, the film still conveys numerous themes effectively through key story beats and striking visuals, with its central thesis being the importance of learning empathy towards others, and that you shouldn’t seek validation from close-minded proponents of outdated and toxic principles. As such, through a combination of entertaining characters with likable personality, an emphasis on globetrotting action, its refreshingly positive outlook, and tremendous animation on both the large and the small-scale across the board, Missing Link is a delightful adventure that you should make a point of seeing.

Final Ranking: Silver.

Boasting charm, an infectious sense of humour, and perhaps the best action I’ve seen in a stop-motion film, Missing Link absolutely meets the standard of quality that you’d expect from a Laika production.

 Pet Semetary

As many other people discussing this film have noted, Pet Semetary is a Stephen King story that’s notable for being so bleak that even Stephen King felt it was too dark. He hesitated to submit it for publishing for three years, only submitting it when he needed to meet a deadline for a contract. In the subsequent years, King has been critical of the “nothing matters” mentality of the story. With that in mind, as well as the knowledge that several people I follow whose opinions on film I trust were not fond of it, I was prepared for the possibility that I wouldn't enjoy it, but nevertheless open to the film surprising me. After all, Stephen King is a consistently entertaining storyteller, and I’m always interested to see how people adapt his work. For a while, things seemed okay enough. Then it started to drag around the middle, and then it took a hard, fast, ugly turn, descending into the most distasteful experience I’ve had in a cinema this year.

         As that summary indicates, the set-up is intriguing enough. A family move into a new home, and there are little signs that things aren’t quite right around here, as well as the telltale indications of a traumatic past that have left some of the characters with residual hang-ups that they will inevitably be forced to confront, and the tantalising promise of something unnatural on the horizon that will draw our protagonists in as they descend into horror. It’s competent ground laying work, and apart from the horrifying past of one of the character’s being uncomfortably demonising of the sick, and a lack of a distinctive visual style for the film to call its own, I didn’t have many serious issues with the first third or so.

         Once you approach the middle portion of the film, things start to feel protracted. Even if you haven’t seen a trailer or heard the gist of this story and have a decent idea about the trajectory of its narrative, there comes a point where you start to know exactly where things are heading. Discussions of death and what may or may not come afterwards, repeated reminders of how dangerous and unexpected high-speed vehicles on the road outside their house can be, and allusions to some unknowable force that can make impossible things happen which the father of this family absolutely must not approach are all dots that anyone familiar with the phrase “monkey’s paw” can join together with little difficulty. Without an engaging dynamic between characters (a la IT), a self-aware bizarreness that results in humour, or a notable visual style, there’s little to keep you going as you wait for pieces to very, very slowly fall into place.

         And the final act is just awful. It spits course language and nihilistic vitriol with little substance or point to its depictions of pain, misery, and spitefulness other than to wallow in this negativity with nothing else to say. Actors start to abandon any semblance of understated nuance in favour of ham-fisted bluntness, cursing out characters with an intensity that doesn’t feel earned as they clumsily fight against them in a way that lacks any sense of climactic satisfaction, and, because your investment in these characters rapidly drains with each new questionable decision and unlikable action, there’s no tension to these encounters either. There are numerous instances where the actors will do their best to deliver lines of dialogue that try to be shocking or wryly dark, but the material is so poorly thought out that it awkwardly misses the mark in both categories. It’s especially galling as the film spent so much time and effort on getting to this conclusion that it was trying to amp up as this big, horrifying finale that will shake you, when instead it’s just underwhelming and unpleasant without any purpose to itself. I was wishing for it to end, and yet when the credits began to roll, I couldn’t help but ask “wait, is that it?” It’s a limp ending with little meaning that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Final Ranking: Cardboard.

Pet Semetary’s first act offers some potential, but that’s all it is: potential. The middle act spends so long getting to where it needs to be and where the audience knows it’s going that, by the time it gets there, it spends what little time it has left on cruel, structureless nihilism without taking any ownership for the unpleasant material it lays down at your feet.

 Shazam!

The DC movies are in a great place right now. I’ve yet to see James Wan’s Aquaman, but from the abundance of positive things I hear about it, as well as the profound impact Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman had on audiences, James Gunn and a whole lot of appealing casting choices being attached to the next Suicide Squad film, and the great feelings I have about the energy that the Birds of Prey teaser indicated, I’m very optimistic about the future of DC films. Now that Shazam! has released and proved to be a positively uplifting delight, my outlook on this series is cheerier than ever!

         Hm? What about that Joaquin Phoenix Joker movie? Well... my feelings towards that are… complicated. I’ll save my thoughts on it for another time, but suffice to say, I think the film has the potential to be great, but I worry about the way it will be received, and that the worst crowd will embrace it and take the wrong lessons from it.

         Anyway, for the here and now, Shazam is a refreshing blend of joyous levity and unexpected intensity. The film offers endearing comedy with teens and pre-teens acting like excited kids who enjoy doing dopey things but can still come across as insightful and having an emotional heart to them that makes you happy to spend time with them. But it’s never saccharine and, through a fleshed out script and a cast of sharp young actors and actresses, there’s a clear sense of authenticity which makes these adolescent characters seem grounded and well-observed. Something I appreciated is that, whenever the film goes into background details of the history of magic in this world, grandiose prophecies of mystical destinies, or the villain going into his sinister plans, it’s usually being talked about by grown adults who are taking themselves way too seriously. The best exemplar of this is Mark Strong who plays the villain, Dr. Sivana, with an intensity that deliberately comes across as hammy, and the young characters within the film pick up on this and play off him in a way that deflates his bluster and points out how ridiculous he’s being. As a result, the tone of Shazam! feels like it’s poking good-natured fun at prior DC projects and other big budget action blockbusters where stone faced adults spout clichéd speeches without any sense of self-awareness. It’s an approach that points out how some modes of behaviour that are often associated with maturity and being an adult are actually quite childish when you take a step back. As a superhero film that focuses on the experience of being the age where you’re young enough that you still enjoy being a kid, but old enough that you want to call adults out on their bullshit, Shazam! is impressively realised and fun as hell.

         But for as light-hearted as it can be, Shazam! nevertheless surprises you with the occasional brutal sequence that catches you off guard with such rapidity that I found it relatively shocking. It’s not so detailed, gory, or explicit enough that I’d say it goes too far, but it’s worth bearing in mind before you show it to a particularly young and impressionable viewer. The benefit of these sequences is that the unexpected escalation accentuates how in over his head Billy is when he eventually comes across a situation that’s genuinely dangerous, as, despite his newfound powers, he is still a kid, and he really shouldn’t be facing this kind of thing. Indeed, the film demonstrates an impressive grasp of and dedication towards themes of maturity as Billy faces difficult truths about something he thought he wanted and realises he’s been looking in the wrong place for what he actually craves, as well as develops into a more responsible version of himself that opens up to being part of a group built on mutual trust. There’s a cleverly subtle visual indication of the progress Billy has made by the end of the film where he remembers to lower his head as he walks through a door while in his superpowered adult form. One of the first things Billy does when he first transforms is hit his head on a train door to show how unused he is to this new body. The simple act of Billy seeing the doorframe and lowering his head as he steps through without any hesitation near the end of the film signifies the control Billy has developed over himself and his own actions, making his journey of maturation resonate that much more with me. The impact of shocking dark turns and the firm, confident grasp the film has on its cohesive themes of maturation and finding your place in life elevates Shazam! from a fun time to an uplifting and refreshing story that I think people are going to really enjoy for a long while.

Final Ranking: Silver.

Energetic, full of character, and with a strongly executed theme of maturation, Shazam! is highly recommended. It is perhaps a little longer than it needs to be, which results in the latter parts of the middle section feeling a little drawn out. Having said that, the finale sends a jolt of electricity through you that makes you forget any objections you might have and remember all the positive qualities that make this film so likable.

 Hellboy (2019)

Oof… why did I decide to end this collection of reviews on Hellboy (2019) and write this after three other sections? Sigh… okay, let’s get this over with.

It would be insincere of me to say I'm the most impassioned proponent of the Guillermo del Toro Hellboy films. I found them memorable and atmospheric, and you could certainly feel the characteristic flair from the many people that put their artistic touch on those films to create something unique that marked them out from other comicbook movies, which is especially impressive in the mid-2000s, pre Iron Man era. But after going through the slog that is Hellboy (2019), I think I’m more appreciative than ever of what del Toro and his team managed to achieve.

         For a while, it seemed like this new R-rated version of Hellboy was angling for a more faithful adaptation of the original books by Mike Mignola, given the various interviews that were had about it over the years. Sadly, the final result feels like the result of too many outside influences dictating what the film should feature, culminating in a hodgepodge of a film which regurgitates character beats from the del Toro films, and rapidly stitches together a half-hearted attempt at a King Arthur narrative to fill in the requisite new material (this is your regular reminder to check out The Kid Who Would Be King, a much better modern reinterpretation of Arthurian lore). The presentation is dour, unenthusiastic, and lacks any atmosphere or personality, and that is something you could never accuse either the Mignola books or the del Toro films of lacking. In the whole film, there are only two sequences that stand out, namely the fight with the three giants and the rampage of the hell creatures in London. Even so, the former is a relatively meaningless sequence that contributes very little to the narrative and lifts right out of the film, while the latter is so sadistic and mean spirited that it made me genuinely uncomfortable. It falls flat as both an adaptation of a beloved fictional series that’s brimming with atmosphere, and as a piece of technical filmmaking as well.

         On top of that, when the tone and general philosophy of the film does emerge out from under the rest of the film’s mediocrity, it reveals itself to be genuinely unpleasant. The film opens with narration that rushes through the backstory with Nimue and the Arthurian set-up and does so with foul-mouthed irreverence. There is a bit of humour to someone casually tossing in the odd bit of shitty language as they tell you about ancient history that should be discussed with pomp and circumstance but is instead being discussed with ill-fitting coarseness. However, there needs to be some personality to go along with it, otherwise it’s implied that the swearing is the character and all that’s there to it. In the case of this opening narration, Ian McShane emphasises each fucking swearword and it becomes clear that the dialogue is using this as a crutch in an effort to make the film seem like it has an identity as this edgy superhero movie that’s different because it swears. It’s a juvenile approach that is laughable when you consider how effortless Ryan Reynolds’ delivery in each Deadpool movie has been, which demonstrates how swearing can be used to accentuate genuinely funny jokes and characters, rather acting as the joke in and of itself.

         And this isn’t even the most egregious part of the film either, it’s simply a bad first impression. The worst aspect of the film’s outlook is how virtually every character espouses the notion that you should stop complaining, stop letting things get to or affect you, and stop taking time to process things. This is especially saddening when Hellboy’s father, a character that was played with wonderful vulnerability and heart-aching humanity by the late great John Hurt, tells Hellboy to “grow some balls” and get on with things, making the emotional culmination of their time together on screen essentially boil down to ‘quit your bitching’. Characters in Hellboy (2019) show next to no empathy towards one another, and they continually reinforce the story’s outlook which, whether inadvertently or not, nevertheless encourages a state of being where you never have time to be open or vulnerable with the people around you. It’s profoundly disheartening to watch, and gives little to no thematic or visual sustenance to get you through a runtime that feels far too long.

Final Ranking: Manure.

David Harbour does an admirable job in the lead role and I was happy to at least have a protagonist in this film that captures the gruff sadness and down-to-earth affability of the character of Hellboy. But he’s drowning in limiting makeup and an even more stifling movie that has no visual flair and a boring, miserable narrative. The experience of watching this movie is draining and deflating, and I hope to never revisit it.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “Kurt’s Collar” (Rated NC17)

When Blaine accidentally trips over something he shouldn't have, he opens a Pandora's box, releasing one of Kurt's biggest secrets to date. (1840 words)

Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble 2017 prompt "genuine", and dedicated to @itallstartedwithharry.

Part 56 of Taking a Journey Together

Read on AO3.

Blaine comes across it completely by accident.

He wasn’t snooping in his Master’s things. He wasn’t even looking for anything in the bedroom. A series of unfortunate accidents led him to stumble upon it.

Stumble upon it literally.

He was struggling with his bowtie, trying to get the sides even. He didn’t know why he was having such a problem with it today, but no matter how many times he adjusted it, it looked uneven. He couldn’t switch it out for a different one because his Master chose this one specifically for the luncheon they were going to.

A luncheon they were running late for because Blaine couldn’t tie his stupid bowtie!

He’d decided he’d give it one more try before he crawled into the other room and asked his Master for help. He untied it completely, checked the ends to make sure they were even, took a deep breath in and out, then re-tied it. When he pulled the loops taut, he thought he had finally gotten it. He took a step back to get a better look at it - frazzled, frustrated, and determined not to waste any more of his Master’s time. His foot landed on the edge of Kurt’s slipper (which had, during the course of Blaine’s pacing, been kicked away from the bed), and rolled his ankle. As he lurched sideways, fighting to regain his balance, he tipped too far and landed on a small footlocker that Kurt kept beside his dresser. It toppled over before Blaine could catch it, opened, and spilled its contents on the floor.

Blaine is under strict orders not to touch anything in that footlocker, which is why Kurt doesn’t lock it.

No touching is a rule, and rules are expected to be obeyed.

Blaine, being the obedient pet that he is, was on his way to the living room, crawling on his hands and knees, to tell Kurt what he’d done.

That’s when he saw it, lying closest to the open mouth of the footlocker, which meant it had been kept on the very bottom - not where Blaine would never find it, because he wasn’t allowed in there.

But so Kurt wouldn’t see it on accident, not unless he was specifically searching for it.

Blaine picks it up. He can’t help himself. It pulls him to it.

The reason?

Because it scares him.

It’s a collar – a beautiful, well cared for, and expensive looking collar. It’s not quite as lavish as his own silver eternity collar dotted along the outer perimeter with diamonds, but he can tell someone spent some significant money on it. It’s made of rich leather, smooth to the touch, with a sterling silver buckle, and what looks like a sprinkling of sapphires embedded in its flesh. Affixed dead center are initials – HH in white rhinestones.

Blaine gulps.

It’s not just any collar.

It’s a collar of ownership.

Blaine’s seen a bunch of different collars during his time as Kurt’s submissive, each with a different connotation from fashion, to play, to life partners. The latter are always the most elaborate, the most precious.

And this one is the genuine article.

But it’s not a symbol of Kurt’s ownership. His initials are KH, like the ones engraved on the collar around Blaine’s neck.

The one beginning to strangle him the longer he stares at the collar in his hands.

“Pet!? What happened? What was that bang? Are you al---?”

Blaine has no time to react – clean up the mess, put the collar away, pretend like he never found it, never saw it. Though he wouldn’t be able to even if he did. He’d never lie to Kurt. Trying to keep this a secret would eventually tear him to pieces.

Kurt races in mere seconds after Blaine hears his voice. He stops at the sight of Blaine kneeling on the floor beside his mess, the collar resting in his open palms. Blaine can’t deny what he’s done, can’t deny that he touched it without his Master’s permission regardless of the circumstances. Even if he didn’t intend on doing anything wrong, he has anyway by not going immediately to his Master when the accident occurred.

Right now, all Blaine can do is wait for punishment to come.

“What happened here, pet?” Kurt asks, followed by a deep sigh as if he can’t do this now, can’t handle this now, whatever it is. But he doesn’t sound angry – not even the tiniest bit. Annoyed, maybe, but not angry.

“I’m so sorry, Sir! I didn’t mean to …” Blaine starts, but bites his bottom lip to stop himself when he sees his Master’s eyes turn cold. Blaine’s rambling apology isn’t protocol. Explanations, clear and plain. Simple answers to simple questions. No excuses. Those are the rules. And Blaine doesn’t want to break any more of Kurt’s rules. “I tripped, Sir. I tried to catch myself, but I couldn’t. I fell over your footlocker, and …”

“Are you alright, pet?” Kurt asks, finally entering the room. “No twisted ankles? No broken bones?”

“I---I don’t think so, Sir. Not that I can feel.”

“That’s good.” Kurt reaches down and takes the collar from his pet’s hands. He glances at it, hanging it from his index finger in front of Blaine’s nose. “I suppose you’re curious about this, aren’t you, pet?”

“I---“ Simple answers to simple questions, Blaine reminds himself. But he doesn’t have a simple answer, because it isn’t a simple question.

And Kurt, knowing his sub as well as he does, understands that. Kurt demands that Blaine be open with him about his issues, his problems, his past. Kurt, on the other hand, has not been as forthcoming. Of course, as Master, he has the option not to be, as long as he doesn’t break the vows he’s made to Blaine - to remain loyal, monogamous, fair, and honest. So an explanation for this has been a long time coming. And seeing as it’s out in the open, now seems as good a time as any, no matter how much he’d rather forget.

But he chose to keep it, so it’s his own damn fault.

“It’s a collar,” he explains, “that represents an intense commitment. But, you’re a brilliant boy, so I know you knew that already.”

Blaine wants to preen beneath that praise, but he can’t. He feels something coming.

Something he won’t like.

“And … it’s mine.”

Blaine swallows hard. He can’t imagine anyone owning his Master. But, apparently, someone has.

The thought doesn’t just break his heart. He suddenly and irrationally feels betrayed.

“I don’t wear it, of course.” Kurt turns it over nonchalantly in his hands. “It’s more symbolic than anything else.”

Blaine lowers his gaze from his empty hands to the floor beneath his knees. Even if that weren’t required in this position, he’s not sure how he’d look at Kurt with this new information. He needs time to process first. “I---I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I don’t expect you to, pet. That’s why I kept it hidden.” Kurt turns the footlocker over and sets it back in place. Then he snaps his fingers and points. Blaine sees the gesture over his eyelashes and, without a word, begins picking up the rest of the spilt items. Kurt takes a seat on the edge of the bed and watches him clean up, holding the collar in his hands.

“After my stepbrother died, my father’s stroke, and then his cancer diagnosis, I wasn’t in a good place.” He sees Blaine hesitate in his work, but for only a second as he contemplates where Kurt might be going with his story. What could the outcome be? Kurt is a masochist, but not a submissive. But is it possible that he sought the assistance of another Dominant to help him fight his demons?

Could that Dom have claimed him?

Is that an arrangement that Kurt would be willing to enter into to get what he needed?

But that collar – that collar represents more than an arrangement.

The collar in Kurt’s hands looks almost like a wedding ring.

“I became self-destructive. I wasn’t sleeping well, I wasn’t eating the way I should. I’d stopped caring about myself. I still cared about others. I knew I had to stick around for my father and my stepmother, but it wasn’t really a priority. I was teetering on the edge of a deep precipice, and I wasn’t at all concerned about pulling myself back. My father noticed, from hundreds of miles away, through phone conversations and Skype calls, and he reminded me that without me in the world, he would lose one more reason that he had to take care of himself – to fight the cancer, to monitor his heart. I knew I had to try harder. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I can get a little bit absentminded and emotional when I’m bogged down by work or stress …

Kurt pauses for a response. Blaine smartly doesn’t give one. Kurt smirks. He loves that Blaine is so respectful, so obedient … but it would have been nice to have a reason to give Blaine a spanking.

It would have broken the tension.

“I bought this to remind myself that I belong to someone. That way, when I was driving down the highway between Lima and New York, and I got a sudden urge to drive off the side of the road, I would … you know … not.”

Blaine sighs – sad, heavy, full of questions he doesn’t know if he should ask. So when Kurt says: “What is it, pet?” Blaine picks the easiest one. The obvious one.

The most pressing one.

“What does HH stand for, Sir? Who … who is that?”

“It stands for Hudson-Hummel. That’s what our family became after my father married my stepmother. Those were the people I needed to think of whenever I wanted to hurt myself. I mean really hurt myself.”

Blaine’s soft gasp is innocent, endearing. “Would you really … kill yourself, Sir?”

“The thought did cross my mind. I won’t deny it.” Kurt places the collar on his pillow and pats his knee. Blaine shuffles over and rests his head against it. With gentle fingers, Kurt combs through Blaine’s lightly gelled hair, twirling the curls one by one around his fingertips. “But when it did, I’d go to bed, and the next day, the sun would rise, and I would realize there was so much left to live for. That my part to play in this big story we call life wasn’t over yet.”

“I’m glad you did, Sir,” Blaine says. “Realize that there was so much left to live for, I mean. I don’t want to think about a world without you.”

Kurt smiles at his pet. Blaine hasn’t the faintest idea how far within his miasma of depression Kurt was when they met – how huge a part Blaine plays in reminding him every day that there’s so much for him to live for.

“So am I.”