#ironically (to no one aware) the person who was scared to be in that server now was a MLM TRANS MAN who used fujo communities as comfort

[dynamiccove]

I keep meaning to answer this with my own experiences to get it off my back so here goes.

I can already feel people saying 'oh no' at me but, my introduction to this whole problem situation was in otherkind and system spaces. I kept rubbing up on it for a while without fully realizing until I was in the Alt.+.H server and someone was being an ass using the western definition of fujoshi

as a JFL I got confused and oh so innocently tried to correct and question what that definition was from and how it was factually inaccurate and some of the historical and explain the queer connections with it and oh boy

oh the fuck boy did I get in over my head and got talked down to like I was a fucking infant, the dog piling and the insistence by the mods of the server itself how 'that isn't what it means anymore it means this' sort of attitude to a word that isn't from their tongue, has an active community

and this was during a huge wave of anti 'tumblr.kin' (as the term was at the time) fighting of 'misusing words' so it was even more confusing and pissy.

and it was me venting about this mess to some friends on tumblr that made me fully and properly learning of anti-ship people and their ilk

And the reason I spent so much time not in English fandom until more recently where I've decided I miss what I had here and I WANT IT BACK

:

As I was typing the tags I remembered that one extra bullshit in the whole insisting fujoshi always meant it was they used the whole rotten = bad thing as in described it through English connotations of rotton and they literally wouldn't let me explain Japanese doesn't have that and not a single person ever let me have a chance ot type it was a true dogpile of message after message and I'm barely able to type up a single response before the message is off screen (on desktop) just the fuck still

Question for proshippers: what was your introduction to the whole pro/antiship business?

For me, it was when I left a comment on a fanfic that I really enjoyed, only to have the comment deleted because I write smut. This led me down the rabbit hole of pro/antiship, and I was like "Well I'm against harassment and censorship, I don't believe fiction affects reality on a one-to-one basis, and I don't believe the fiction people create and consume are a direct reflection of their irl morality, so... I guess I'm a proshipper."

[peachymilkshakes]

My review of AFK Journey after getting through Dark Forest 2 (level 70+)

So I will be honest with yall, I have been itching to write this. Ever since getting into this game a few days ago, I have been wanting to write a review about this game. Because something about it just makes me wanna put out my feelings about it in words. I will be open about this from the start though: I have not played it's predecessor AFK Arena. Largely because afk games just do not appeal to me. Even though many of the gachas I have played before this had auto mode in it, and had some form of AFK mode in it. (which means, you just wait for a certain item to generate over real time)

Starting out, I had some flashbacks to the Ghibli gacha, Ni no kuni Cross worlds. Which was a very polarising game for it's forced autopathing and heavy monetisation mechanics (which means you're almost forced to pay in order to progress) I remember how devestated I was when I found out how terrible of a game this turned out to be, despite my expectations for it, having played the switch game prior and loving it to bits.

What does AFK Journey have to do with this? Well, simply the reason that I was terrified that this thing would happen all over again. I was scared, but pleasantly suprised. I think there is a fine line that developers can walk on. The balance between keeping your player base happy, and making money on your game. which hasn't been done by many developers. The biggest company who does this right is Mihoyo or Hoyoverse. I think by keeping your playerbase happy, you can in turn make money long term. However, a lot of companies that develop gacha games, do not care much, and seem to usually go for the quick money rather than the quality of their game. Long story short, stay away from games developed/managed by Netmarble.

AFK Journey seems to be doing things alright. It isn't a Hoyoverse game, I am well aware of that. It has a very predatory monetisation system which I advice to stay away from when you are prone to or have an addictive personality.

Let's talk about the audio first Yes, I do enjoy the BGM. It's nice to listen to and it gives a nice mellow vibe for when you're just standing there with your hero party (foreshadowing) I think they should add a few tracks though. It gets boring to listen to the same tracks over and over.

The voice acting is mid. The audio quality is bad, and the voice work itself leaves a lot to be desired. I've heard from people who played both English and Japanese dub that both suck equally. I am currently putting it to Hoyoverse standards, or even Devsisters (Cookie run) I know that. But I think that's the least a gacha game can do for it's players. having competent voice actors on the job delivering the lines naturally. It's not the case currently. The names of the current voice actors aren't even named in game.

AFK Journey is an afk game Knowing this, I think you might know what I am about to say. Yes, the leveling system requires you to stand there on the map and wait for materials to flow in over time. Maybe even close out the game. Personally though, I have been hanging out in the chatrooms within the game. I think that's fine for a game mechanic. The bad part is that the flow of materials is next to nothing and you're forced to wait DAYS on end to progress. The difficulty spike is a lot after Dark Forest 3 and keeps on getting worse.

The chatrooms themselfs are alright but could be better. I still find it sorta weird how they allow nsfw talk publicly when there are definately minors who play the game.

The system with the servers also kind of cockblocked me from friending people who were placed on a different server, which is sad. I wish they'd add a function where you can friend people on other servers but keep out the ability to assist them or something like that. At least add an option to keep in touch with people.

The gacha system Ironically, this is one of the best parts of the game. I like comparing it to the cookie run kingdom gacha, because it's that generous. If you're playing to get waifus I think this game is 100% for you. Yes, there is monetisation but I really feel like the gacha is so well done that you can do this entirely F2P without having to worry. Keep in mind though, I started playing during the launch period which gave me more gacha currency to work with. Even so, I think the gacha is great and dare I say better than Hoyoverse gacha.

My general impression a week into playing This game is mid. And I mean that in a semi positive way. It is good at entertaining me for a while. And I suppose that's all we can expect from it. This is no Genshin Impact. It is however a sequel to AFK arena which was a game that has been pretty popular as well. Would I reccomend people playing this? yes and no. It really depends on what you're looking for. I think when it comes to gachas that are similar, Cookie run kingdom would still sorta win at least in the story and voice acting categories. I'd say, play this game if all you care about is the characters then by all means give it a go. As this game has very good character design.

Before I go I want to name a few positive things besides the character design. The community seems to be alright. Everyone is there to help each other, and the chatroom is a lot of fun to hang out in while grinding AFK levels.

Final verdict: Great game to play for a month and then forget about. We'll see when the next update drops. 6/10

[theacedragon0w0]

Love Poison

Sage x Velvette fic

Also the fic where Sage stops Velvette from getting spiked

Tw: attempted roofied, drug mention, discussion of sa (not actual sa but it is slightly mentioned)

"Do. Not. Drink. That." Sage snatched Velvette's cup of latte from her grip, as she almost took a sip.

"The fucks your problem?"

Sage, still holding the coffee, grabbed the server who was cowering under Sage's iron grip. "This dipshit here spiked your drink, and with your love potion no less."

Velvette, her eyebrows were now arched and turned to Hazel, "how come you didn't smell it?"

Sage cut in "Because you aren't supposed to smell it, ma'am." Their tongue flicked, "but I am confident that you don't like you coffee tasting like lime and salt"

Velvette stood still, and after a minute addressed her hellhound again "Hazel wazel, take out this sorry excuse of a bastard, I need a word with Sage"

Hazel gave a large toothy grin, "With pleasure boss." As the server cussing out Velvette while being dragged by his neck.

When they left, Sage felt their collar materializing, meaning that they are soon going to be dragged to wherever Velvette wanted them to go, Sage surprisingly didn't mind the tug, as Velvette was at near equal height as them so Sage didn't have to be forced to bend forward.

Velvette released Sage's leash when they entered her private office, "Now darling, tell me how you know my signature flavor for my potion?"

"You mean your factory made roofie? I worked as a bouncer and you should be scared about the amount of times I caved in skulls from punks sneaking that shit in my dancer's drinks."

Velvette gave Sage a smug grin, "I didn't know how much of a sore spot for this topic, tell me, if you are so pissed about my product, why did you save me from drinking my contaminated coffee?"

"Because No One deserves to be taken advantage of like that, even if that person was the one who made it in the first place."

Velvette was at a loss for words, her nails tapped her lips as she was thinking of how to respond to Sage's honest answer, after 5 long minutes Velvette finally broke the silence by cupping Sage's face, "Well aren't you full of surprises, and what else can you taste with that tongue of yours?"

Sage stucked her tounge out, showcasing that it was both long and that it was forked at the end, "I am also aware that you and Hazel taste almost the same, but you two don't keep things subtle do you?"

Velvette's hand let go of Sage's jaw, as she shot both of her arms in the air "guilty as charged! Hope that doesn't deter you from your duties doll."

Sage looked down at their feet, "Actually quite the contrary, you two are lucky to have each other, you don't see a lot of happy couples here in hell."

Velvette looked at Sage, was it pity she felt? Hope? She couldn't pin it but she couldn't let Sage have the last say, "Well your right, my Hazel is the best hellhound I ever asked for and you should look at her as an example for working for me."

"Yes ma'am,"

Velvette wanted to continue the conversation but was interrupted by Hazel walking in, wiping her paws while chuckling, "Took care of the trash boss! And three of yer workers want to ask you about some patterns for next month's showcase."

"Alright, tell those cunts I'll be out in a minute," Velvette looked at Sage, "and we will continue our conversation later."

Hazel belongs to @puffymucher

[balillee]

Hey i saw a post of yours about Niki and i was wondering what's your opinions on the characters in the syndicate

i'm just really interested in different peoples opinions about these things sorry

that's fine, don't worry lol,

(all below is /rp unless stated otherwise)

the syndicate as a whole i think is very ironically oppressive - the four richest individuals on the server, who command power through wealth and fear rather than respect, teaching people that they should live in a system that they believe is free, in which the members of the syndicate would sit at the top of the natural food chain, and the people they're talking to about their ideas of freedom would not thrive (due to a lack of skill, respect, resources etc).

individual members:

techno is very complex, because i'm conflicted as to whether or not i think he's fully aware that he'd sit at the top of the food chain in an anarchist society and knows he'd thrive over others (because of the dog eat dog comment he made to the badlands boys) or if he genuinely believes that anarchy will free everyone. i think overall his perspective as a character is very sheltered, and i don't think he understands the perspectives of others who may want order and believe that institutions, nations and government could be beneficial to their lives. i think he also misses a lot of context, such as how the original l'manberg was a truly special place - not perfect - but it wasn't oppressive (because it wasn't scared of losing it's power), it didn't force anyone to do anything, and it was built on a foundation of trust that only began to fall apart when eret betrayed them (aka when someone intervened.)

phil's another complex one, because his radicalisation is based a lot on grief and past experiences, but again it is still radicalisation, and a lot of it again seems sheltered. once again i think his character could benefit from the context of how l'manberg was before the elections and how beneficial it was for it's members. i also think he'd be the one to benefit the most from knowing how snowchester properly operates and how tubbo is technically it's leader. i think communication between phil and tubbo specifically could really be an eye opener for his character as to how anarchy isn't beneficial for everyone, and how government/nations aren't inherently oppressive. i see phil as a little more empathetic than techno, especially concerning the difference between phil and ranboo's dynamic vs techno and ranboo's dynamic (in which ranboo is still somewhat fearful of techno - still waiting on ranboo's reaction to learning about techno taking tubbo's second life), and so i hope if that conversation ever comes about, phil can be somewhat understanding that tubbo thrives best in nations because people like him and jack are fearful of powerful individuals because all they've done is cause them grief and take from them, and that doomsday taught them not about anarchy, but about how they should fear the powerful.

ranboo as a character, and this might in part be due to how young he is and his memory issues, is extremely naive. his solutions to problems read about as well as 'i think the thing that would help the most is world peace'. he's very well known for his ideas of not picking sides, and cc!ranboo is very open and admits that his character is a hypocrite in the sense that he may not know at some points that he's choosing a side that can hurt his friends. i think he's definitely naive for believing that the syndicate is capable of stopping conflicts, and i want to see if at some point he's thrown between two sides and his ideas of not picking a side and picking the obvious right side (either ideologically, or it's the one that protects his friends/innocent people) conflict. i also would like to see him build trust with other characters, especially with tommy, because i think the two could benefit from helping each other out with their dream trauma specifically, and because i think tommy's the person who best fits the criteria to help ranboo with the fourth book (not exactly the most morally pure but getting better/still somewhat a good person who stands up to bullshit, unaffiliated with any groups, can keep secrets).

niki i've been very openly critical about as a character, mainly because in stories i operate under the idea that if a character can be omitted from a retelling of the overall story, it shouldn't be there, but this is a roleplay series so that fallacy doesn't really work. she doesn't add much to the syndicate other than my annoyance of it to be honest. her views towards new l'manberg are hypocritical and somewhat aggravating, especially since she left it fairly quickly for someone who fought to get it back in pogtopia - she technically left on two occasions when she made her secret city during tubbo's presidency, and when she left with fundy to found drywaters. she had no reason to be mad at l'manberg as she had no affiliations with it. i also don't really like her 'healing arc', because her version of healing is also 'villain niki', which i fucking despise, because it reads as if her version of healing is turning on her friends and dictating how they should live as if she's not entitled and as if she knows better. genuinely, and i know this may sound overly negative, i don't find any redeeming qualities in her character, and cc!niki needs to either decide whether or not her character is angry and vengeful against people who never wronged her, or soft and kind and healing, because to me those two archetypes conflict a lot. she's the one type of traitor that the fandom subconsciously doesn't even recognise as a traitor, and has decided she doesn't need to redeem herself for how she treated tommy and how she treated her friends in l'manberg.

i see the syndicate overall as a villainous group, which, you can argue all day about how 'there are no good or evil people in the dream smp they're all morally grey' all day, but there are, and even the creators acknowledge it. pretty much all cc's acknowledge the alignment charts, people refer to their character's arcs as villain arcs or hero arcs etc. this doesn't mean that i hate the syndicate, it just means that i see them as morally and functionally in the wrong in comparison to groups like snowchester (and honestly, i think rooting for the heroes has become kind of underrated at this point. i'm a sucker for happy worlds that are good; built on compromise and understanding, what can i say?)

sorry if i seem overly critical about them, i don't mean to (so i won't maintag it), but i hope this explains my perspective a little!

[the-phantom-ender]

Can I request Ranbob and Foolish? Wanna see how our favorite Dream kinnie would interact with our favorite totem god.

So. This is the first time I’ve ever attempted to write Ranbob. Forgive me if he’s a tad ooc ;^^ This might have to be the last request for tonight. I got a little carried away and it’s… past 2. 

ITS UNDER A READ MORE THIS TIME BECAUSE ITS ACCIDENTALLY LIKE 1.2K WORDS

To every power, there was a weakness. Every ability had a drawback. This was the nature of existence, a law of the universe. An action had an equal and opposite reaction, this was just how the world worked. And Foolish was as bound to the rules of the universe as any mortal man.

The acute awareness at death had long since been a thing he’d tuned out. Being a deity of the living and the dead, sensing every fallen existence was overwhelming, at one time. But eventually it had dulled into background noise. As familiar as breath. There were times, however, where a particularly tragic or abrupt death caught him off guard.

Long after the land of the Dream SMP was ancient history, regarded as folk tales and mythology, he felt this painful tug. There was a whisper, in the edges of his mind. The ocean itself seemed to be mourning, death and tragedy occurring under her blanket of darkness. His oceans did not cry out often, it was always oddly unsettling when they did. Perhaps a sailor had been caught in a storm and the waves regretted aiding in their passing?

For whatever reason, be it idiocy or curiosity, Foolish decided to check on things. To follow his ocean’s call to where she mourned. This led him to a vast underwater city. Now, of course, the god didn’t approach this place as himself. Instead, he shifted his appearance into that of a small catshark. Still a dangerous animal in a sense, but small and unassuming. Sharks were… his thing, alright? 

The city was alight with fire, water flooded into a room with a burning tree. Dark ash and smoke stained the sea black. Foolish just hardly noticed the body of a man among the wreckage. His heart was heavy. Certainly, the glass dome would shatter under the water pressure and send shards into the water, polluting and harming the environment. Once again, his heart ached for his ocean.

Gathering himself, he cast out his mind, sensing one living being in the entirety of the city. Abruptly, he shifted his appearance back into that of his own (albeit small enough to fit the halls of the city), appearing outside the ruined dome. He scanned the area sadly, drawing his attention to the opposite end of the hall. A man emerged, clearly startled by the presence of another. A bloodstained sword hung at his side. Foolish understood what this meant.

“Ah! Greetings!” The man spoke, a false sense of friendliness in his tone as he wiped the blade clean on his suit,” What brings you to Mizu? Do you, too, have an interest in the history of the great Dream SMP?” 

Right. So this was one of those people, huh? Not that Foolish had anything wrong with historians, of course! It was just… funny to see people tell tales of people he’d known. Especially if they were completely off base. And considering the familiar half toned appearance of the man before him, there was a decent chance he was. 

“Uh… something like that, yeah.” 

A smile grew on the man's face, Foolish noting the similarity to another smile he knew. “Right! Well then, my name is Ranbob. I am a descendant of the great and wise historian Ranboo! You’ll have to forgive me, I was not… expecting guests.” 

It took all the will he had for the god to not burst into laughter. The great historian Ranboo, eh? So that’s what history decided he became. That was a more flattering title than some past acquaintances of his had gotten, to be fair. 

“Foolish. It’s a pleasure to meet you Ranbob of Mizu.” A proper title. Foolish extended an arm for a handshake, emerald eyes sharp and dangerous. 

The handshake was taken, a handkerchief in between them. Ranbob’s eyes seemed cold. There was the same expression he’d seen in so many others in those eyes. A man who had given away his humanity in pursuit of a goal. The willingness to kill for their own gain. Still… this man was a descendant of Ranboo. There was still the clear haze of forgetfulness in his eyes. A trait that never went away, it seemed. 

“...Likewise.” a beat “Would you like a tour?” 

“If you'd like to give one.” 

Foolish stayed silent as he was brought between rooms. He knew this was a set up. He could tell that the person leading him was dangerous. Still, despite this, there was an odd charm to him. He’d learned, at this point, to appreciate the beauty in death. Sometimes, that was all you could do in the face of tragedy. By gods had Foolish seen enough tragedy to have a bit of beauty. 

He knew he was nearing the end of this encounter as Ranbob mentioned idols. Right, yes. Time had a tendency to turn normal people into those, putting them on a pedestal. Foolish had the excuse of being an old, old god. Even by the time that he’d met those of the Dream SMP, he was practically unheard of. At least it meant that he wasn’t recognized right away. Though… his temple was still standing. 

“Everyone in this place has their idols,” Ranbob hummed, leading him into a room that was immediately a red flag,” Would you like to know mine?”

Neon green.

“Who might that be, kid?”

“Dream! The god of the server! I aim to follow in his footsteps, to do as he did!” 

“You serve a false prophet, Ranbob.” 

“... What? No, no, don’t you say something like that. I know the history, my family wrote it!” The man gritted his teeth, expression souring,” I know what I know! And one thing I know for certain is that no one leaves Mizu alive!” 

And all at once, he charged. Foolish made no effort to deflect him, of course. His eyes simply glinted as the blade glanced off of his body- clearly making no dent in him. A green hue glimmered around him and his face fell. Ranbob hadn’t let him reason, it was a shame, honestly. He seemed to be a smart man.

“Dream is no god,” Foolish hummed, easily disarming Ranbob, who was promptly scooped up into a bear hug restraint,” He was a foolish mortal man with one hell of a god complex, though. You could stand to learn the lesson he never did. Cruelty is learned, life and death aren’t unkind, history is always doomed to repeat.”

“Let me go!” Ranbob thrashed in his iron grip, ears tilted down,” Let go of me! You know nothing! Nothing I say!”

“The totem knows nothing, eh?”

“N-no! The totem god isn’t- real! That was a myth even in the time of the SMP!”

Foolish squeezed the man harder, not quite hard enough to hurt. Ranbob’s goggles fell over his eyes as he tossed his head around uselessly. His heart hammered hard enough that the god could feel it in his grasp. This man was a murderer, sure, but Foolish didn’t like scaring others.

“Ranbob. If you’re looking for a god, I’m your best bet. Dream was a kid with a complex and, well, XD doesn’t exactly deal in mortal affairs unless someone’s breaking a rule. Or you’re GeorgeNotFound, but George is long dead at this point. If you want someone to teach you history, I have much scripture in my temple. If you’d like me to teach you, I can.” 

“Wh- huh?”

“You like history, right? Who’s a better source than someone who lived it?”

[tal-iced-tea]

i absolutely love dsmp!techno as much as the next person, mostly because i like for the whole retired epic hero trope every time i see it. i do disagree with his thinking a lot though as imo he’s very hypocritical, and i think the biggest example of this is the scene at the green festival where tommy decides to side with tubbo. tommy says “people are above the government” and techno responds with “i’m a person.” of course, he is a person! i think he’s treated unfairly in many cases and people go to extreme measures to hurt him, but he also doesn’t see others as people. instead of recognizing how powerful he is and how scary that must be for people like quackity and the rest of the butcher army, techno just sees them as a tyrannical, feelingless government. instead of seeing the citizens of l’manburg as scared people wanting to save their home, he sees them as either power hungry rulers or people brainwashed into following those rulers. even with tommy at times instead of seeing him as a traumatized kid, he sees him as a hero archetype who he needs to either recruit or teach a lesson to. i think that the most ironic thing about techno’s line here though, is the fact that he literally tries to play god. he inserts himself into situations (often unrelated to him), obliterates what he doesn’t like, leaving people hurting in his wake, and then just yeets himself back to his house in the snow. obviously he is a person and should be treated like one, but i think he needs to be a lot more aware of his actions and how everyone else on the server is also a person and deserves to be treated as such

/rp

[shinahbee]

Premonition of future events

Hello!

so I wasn’t going to post anything this week since i’m currently working on something for next week, but this has something to do with what I’m planning to post next week so i thought I would share my thoughts.

so as you may be aware if you have read my monthly favorites posts for a while that I have been delving into BL- yaoi manhwa/manga and have been recommending some in those favorites. one of which I have not discussed yet, mainly because I have been saving it for Feb favorites so look forward to that when it comes out!

and I have been following some of the manhwa creators twitter just to see upcoming projects and updates on the current manhwa I am reading, I follow the creator of this manhwa called “ pearl boy” on twitter and she drew something today that really interested me and I decided to break down the symbolism within the art piece. If you have not read this manhwa, none of this will make any sense to you, but i’ll explain it in detail next week when I finish my art.

I love symbolism and foreshadowing within a story and this picture she drew is just that, given the events leading up to this point and I really wanted to take this apart and see what I can come up with.

if you have read this than please bare with me, these are my thoughts only and how i interpret the art from the creator and has nothing to do with how she portrayed her art work, so just a disclaimer. I'm just doing this for fun.

i’ll link her twitter post here: 

https://twitter.com/inking_zoy/status/1363278273476579329

 and i’ll post the picture here, this is from her twitter so all rights belong to inking_zoy, the author/ artist of pearl boy

like i mentioned above, if you have not read the story then this will not make sense to any of you,but basically the guy in the left is named doshik, the guy in the middle is thier boss...i forgot his name..they both call him boss so we will keep it a that, the guy on the right is named Juha, so i’ll refer to them with these names. It is a little hard interpret this picture without knowing details about the story which is still not revealed yet, we see glimpses of the events through juha’s flash backs, so before that, the story starts off with doshik apparently running away from people looking for him cause he stole someones money and fled to the country side, he ended up having spent all his money and didn't even have any to buy food, he then stumbled across a seafood hot pot place and wanted to try eating and running, there in the shop was the owner “ boss” and juha who is working as a server and cook. the boss noticed him being weird and told juha to keep an eye on doshik cause he might bail from paying for his food, and that honestly was going to happen until juha confronted him and asked to payback with labor, it wasn't addressed as to what doshik did as a living before fleding to the country side but he did work at pub so i believe he was a host / sex worker or just a host that does sexual favors, so when juha told him to pay back the money he owed with his “ body” he thought he meant sex. There was a series of events both very terrible and unfortunate to serendipitous that happened between juha and dooshik in their entanglement with each other and with the “ boss “ as well. 

so it goes Boss ----> sexual abuse juha by making him work as a sex toy for old ugly bastards -----> juha has ability to produce pearls from his body...guess how. lol. i���m sorry this seems so absurd, but it is how the story goes, which the boss monopolizes him -----> juha can’t run away because he is scared and owes boss money ----> juha was about to be assaulted by the ugly bastards ---> doshik shows up and saves him a couple times and ends up working at the shop as a co worker---->  juha and doshik get to know each other after doshik saves him a couple times -----> juha asks doshik to have sex with him ( in order to produce pearls for debt payment) ----> doshik discovers juha’s ability but thought it was beads coming out of his body...LOL. he actually thought he had kidney stones and was genuinely concerned ----->  doshik had a pearl that he found at the beach earlier on and used it to compare to the bead that came out of juha and found out it as an actual pearl after getting it appraised by the bank person ----> juha met up with doshik and wanted to tell him he wanted to be sex partners cause he liked doing it with him ----> juha and boss confront each other and boss is angry he didn't show up meet his business partners that night that juha and doshik were together -----> juha says that he’s only going to pay it off by himself with his one partner, he didn't tell boss it was doshik, but i think he found out later. 

alright that seems good enough as to where we are right now, i hope my summary made sense for the most part. Now getting back to the drawing let’s take it apart, so there is a body of water that divides juha and doshik, with the boss being in the middle. The boss is holding juha tight and some people may interpret this as him having feelings for juha. I don’t think that is the case, the reason why i believe he is holding him and not letting go is because he wants to monopolize him for his self gain, not for the sake of feelings, but to make sure that he is the only person he will be able to turn to.  juha can produce pearls and he owes him money and he is using that to gain profit, that’s honestly all i see since his interactions with people strictly revolves around business deals, so once he found out that doshik might know of juha’s ability he began to come up with ways to remove them from each other, because he thinks if doshik knows the money that can come from the pearls he will use it to profit himself.

of course us as readers knows doshik is not like that and that he genuinely cares for juha. so Juha is separated by the boss holding on to him and it is symbolic to the events of his past being forced into a situation he can’t get out of. if you have watched any anime or drama , there is usually a scene where a person drowns, what do you think  happens then when you drown? the obvious, you can’t breathe, you get light headed, your consciousnesses slips away, you feel cold, your surrounded by nothing but silence and darkness the deeper you sink. The boss is like a rock pushing juha further down the abyss and drowning him essentially, he made a comment in the newest chapter saying that “ you can never get away from me no matter how hard you try”. which says a lot about his obsession towards juha. This probably made juha feel like he will always be alone and everything he did will always be hopeless. 🤬

But as we all know there’s always a person who comes and rescues a drowning person at the last second before they become unconscious, which is why in the drawing juha is not completely submerged in water and his face is still on the surface of the water. And as we see doshik is on the other side of that division and is symbolic of life and living, where as when you drown only death awaits you. Doshik is also affectionately kissing and holding juha’s hand as if to say “ i’m here for you, we will get through this together” and is the only thing that is keeping juha from letting everything go and drown in his situation. This can also be interpreted as doshik giving air to juha as well which makes sense in the context of drowning. You can also use light and darkness as symbolism to this piece as well, the light being the surface and doshik who appears on the other side and in contrast the boss being in darkness beneath the water. Need less to say there’s so much symbolism in this one picture and it made me want write how i interpret this from what i’ve read so far and how it relates to how this is portrayed. I also find it ironic that in the early chapters doshik did actually almost drown and it was juha that chased after him and got him out when he fell unconscious in the water...and this picture here makes me believe that doshik will in turn save juha from drowning in his sorrows in the upcoming continuation of the story.

well that’s all that I wanted to say, I hope what I wrote made sense and that you understood for the most part why i believe this is a premonition of whats to come. Most people who don’t know this story will just think its a picture of three dudes having a threesome and that is not it.lol. I’m curious as to how other people interpret this, i’ve read one so far and she had a similar analogy to how i interpreted the art, so i guess i’m not too far off. 

hopefully you all enjoyed reading this, it was fun for me, since I’m currently bleeding out of my ass and procrastinating doing other things and a little pissy from having certain stupid memes flooding my Instagram.  I hope you all are interested in reading pearl boy after this if you have not...obviously be over the age of 18 since it does deal with mature themes!

hope you enjoyed reading! give this a like if you want to see my fan art for this series next week!

see you all then.

sheena

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[like-the-wings-of-butterflies]

This Moment In Time (Racetrack Higgins x Reader)

Summary: Upon moving into your first apartment with Race, you’re reminded of the moments that led you to where you are

Warnings: Some mild angst quickly followed by sweet sweet fluff because I’m an absolute sucker for it

Word Count: 2,244 (this is longer then any of my usual stuff wtf)

A/N: I KNOW I’M A QUEEN BLOG BUT I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS AND DIDN’T FEEL LIKE SETTING UP ANOTHER BLOG TO POST IT SO ENJOY SOME OF MY OTHER FANDOM NONSENSE

A.K.A - I rewatched Newsies for the upteenth time (god bless you disney +) and it sparked an idea which is only a tiny little bit self indulgent

Feedback and comments are always appreciated! ♡

“So this is it.” You breathed into the darkened room, a smile dancing on your lips.

Race placed the burning candle in the centre of the one room apartment before rising to his feet again and grasping hold of your hand. The gentle flickering glow revealed that the small apartment. It was neglected to say the least, paint peeling from the walls, dust-encased windows and the odd squeaking floorboard; certainly a step up from the lodging house however. “I know it ain’t what we were dreamin’ of, not even close, but it’s-“

“It’s got a roof and it’s got you,” You finished for him, squeezing his hand in assurance with an honest smile despite him barely being able to see through the darkness. “It’s perfect. Nothin’ a bit of cleanin’ won’t fix.”

Truly, you couldn’t help but fall for the mess that was Racetrack Higgins. When you first showed up on the doorstep of the lodging house at the age of 13, it was Race that volunteered to take you under his wing and teach you the fine art that was selling newspapers. Staying as his selling partner permanently wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either was becoming one another’s best friend, but the pair of you couldn’t imagine selling with anyone else; having grown too accustomed to each other’s company.

He’d always flirt with you - as he would with every other person who’d give him the time of day— flattering you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines at every opportunity. You’d flirt back of course, not being able to resist the handsome blonde’s charm, but at the cost of catching feelings; no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a childhood crush steadily emerged, turning the heads of the other newsboys.

But as the years progressed, you both matured into young adults. Your experiences bringing you closer together as you grew fonder of one another day by day.

Never in your entire life did you think you’d be living anywhere else but the crumbling walls of the lodging house or in one of New York’s damp alleyways. Yet here you were, hand-in-hand with your fiancé, settling into your first home together. Many were shocked that you were engaged at such a young age, but neither of you could truly see yourselves without the other in your life. Now too old to live in the lodging house, Race ironically managed to find work operating printing presses, and you as a server at Jacobi’s. In a unlikely twist of fate, you managed to earn enough money to move into the small apartment and support yourselves, all while keeping a close eye on the other Newsies.

“Should we check out the penthouse?” Race grinned ear to ear, running to the window upon your nod. He wrestled with the frame for moment before it opened with a satisfying ‘crack’ that echoed through the apartment, before stepping out onto the fire escape.

“M’lady~“ Race offered his outstretched hand with a charming smile, helping you step onto the raised surface. Your breath hitched as you saw the landscape in your surrounds. You were about four floors up which made the view expansive, and you suddenly became keenly aware of how many beautiful sunrises you’d be able to watch from your current position. You’d been in Jack’s penthouse on a couple occasions, but never just to sit and admire the view.

“How the hell did we make it here Racer?” You breathed in awe as you watched lights and lampposts decorate the otherwise dull streets of New York, like little stars in a blackened sky.

Race wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a sweet embrace, your back pressed against his chest and his head resting on your shoulder, “I was just the prettiest Newsie you’s had ever seen and you’s couldn’t help but fall for me,” He teased, pressing a long kiss against the side of your neck as he giggled lightly to himself.

“You don’t think growin’ up or working together our whole lives had anythin’ to do with it?” You jested back, reaching a hand behind you to fiddle with the curls upon his head as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace.

“Absolutely not. But the strike?” He mused thoughtfully, “That’s when I realised I loved you.”

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

It was no surprise waking up to Race sitting on the cold floorboards beside your bunk the night after the strike had been announced. Your beds weren’t too far from one another and Race always slept lightly, often being the call of comfort whenever anyone was having nightmares. He gently shook you awake while brushing away the tears that stained your face, smiling lightly once your eyes opened.

“What’s goin’ on Doll?,” He whispered out, careful not to wake the others, “Why you’s havin’ nightmares?”

“I’m scared what we’re doin’ is gonna get us all hurt,” You croaked out into the darkness, doing your best to hold back a sob. “That we’s gonna end up in the Refuge.” Nobody was oblivious to the chances of the strike ending in violence, the stakes were high; you were only a group of kids fighting against one of the most powerful men in New York after all.

Race’s hand stilled on the side of your face, his warm palm flat against your cheek grounding you and bringing you a sense of comfort. He could see in your eyes just how scared you were.

“I’m scared too,” He admitted before pausing, seemingly collecting his thoughts, “But we’s gonna be okay. Jack and Davey are smart, they’s know what they’re doin’.” He vowed, taking hold of one of your hands and rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

You both sat in silence for quite some time, both too distracted by your thoughts swirling around your heads. As you felt your eyelids growing heavy, you lightly tugged on Race’s arm who brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“Stay with me?” You queried, eyes hopeful.

Without so much as a second thought, he lifted the thin sheet covering your body before sliding into the small bed, his chest pressed against your back, “Anythin’ for you (Y/N).”

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

A few days later, when the bulls attacked, you were an absolute mess; much like the others. In such a short amount of time, your entire world had flipped upside down and everything was shrouded in a new sense of seriousness.

Of the entire group, Davey, Mush, Albert and yourself had come out relatively unscathed - save for a couple bruises - meaning you’d been tasked with patching up the others who weren’t as lucky. You’d just finished tying up Les’ arm into a sling, only as a temporary measure however, just to stop the energetic boy from exercising it too much until he got home. You bargained on the fact that Mrs Jacobs would have a far better fix to his seemingly broken arm, knowing that if worst came to worst, the family could afford a doctor.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You grinned softly as you walked towards Race in the back corner of the lodging house, shrouding himself in the shadows of the late afternoon sun.

“Ha ha.” He imitated, his usual playful attitude absent as he refused to look in your direction.

Something wasn’t right.

With your bodies facing each other, his legs hung over the edge of the table he was perched on as you remained standing. After a few moments of unmoving silence, you lightly tapped his knee, asking him to move so you could stand between his legs. He complied, but kept his eyes secured to the wall on your right. Slowly, you reached out to cup his jaw with a gentle hand, tilting his face to meet yours. You face fell the instant you saw the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was swollen shut, with hints of black already forming on the delicate skin. His chin was tinged an unforgivable red from where he’d wiped away the blood from his busted lip and damp trails ran from his watery right eye.

He’d been crying.

Your own tears welled up when he looked you in the eye, and you found yourself biting your lip to stop any from falling.

With your other hand, you grasped hold of the brim of his worn hat and placed it on the table beside him, letting the mess of curls fall lose against his face.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to wipe away at his own tears before resting his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your back, “You?”

“Just shaken up.” You stated, wasting no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin upon his head. The pair of you stayed like that for an extended period of time, without anyone questioning you. It was a hard day for everyone, no one needed to make it any harder. After some time, the sun had set and the lodging house was quieter then ever before. You longed to sit down and fall asleep yourself, your legs sore and aching. But you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the heavy sleeping form of your best friend. The years of denial on your behalf, stating that you hadn’t caught feeling for Race were long forgotten now.

The things you’d do to make that moment last forever.

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

A few days later, you and the other Manhattan Newsies had recovered for the most part. Physically, everyone were well on their way to healing, but emotionally there was still a fair way to go. Crutchie was still in the Refuge and Jack was still missing but everyone had managed to rest up while Davey reassessed the group’s future movements.

While the others sat glumly in Jacobi’s, you’d decided to go for a long stroll around New York to clear your head, musing the thought of visiting Crutchie in the Refuge. He was one of your closest friends, so sweet and so caring with an equally as vibrant personality, the thought of him in such a wretched place brought tears to your eyes.

You’d helped Jack smuggle food and blankets on too many occasions to count; how difficult could it be without him?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shout of your name from a long way down the busy street. Race’s figure came into view quickly, his chest was heaving as he sprinted down the cobblestone footpath towards you. Immediately, you panicked, thinking Race had been caught stealing cigars again and the cops were on their way but much to your surprise, he slowed as he neared you. Rather then desperation being painted across his features, his face held joy. Pure, unadulterated joy.

“We’s in the papes (Y/N)!” He gasped out, bending to place his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“What are you talkin’ about Race?”

“Katherine got us in the paper!,” He heaved, sweat glistening on his forehead. He pulled the rolled up newspaper from underneath a strap of his suspenders, before unrolling it to the front page and holding it out to you, “Look! That’s us!” He beamed, pointing a finger at the image underneath the headline: ‘NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD’.

In your slight state of shock, you glossed over the story and mentally took note to personally thank Katherine later on.

You actually made it into the papes.

“You’s know what this means?” You queried, your smile transforming into a bright grin as you grabbed hold on Race’s hands, tucking the paper under your arm.

“We’re famous.” He finished for you, his grin matching yours.

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

“Newsies of New York City.” Jack addressed from the top of Newsies Square, Joseph Pulitzer at one side and governor Theodore Roosevelt at the other. It was nice to see him back where he truly belonged, the so-called ‘King of Manhattan’. You could feel your heart beating painfully in your ears as you awaited the news, the anticipation making every second feel longer then what it actually was. Race’s hand was tight in your grasp as you sucked in a final breath, “We won!”

The chorus of cheers that sounded was deafening. It was finally over. After two ruthless and unforgiving weeks of striking, and everything had finally come to a close.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realise you were holding and turned towards Race. Race grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, laughing and chorusing while you were grinning ear to ear yet entirely speechless.

When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed with the loss of contact, but when his arms around your body were replaced by his lips against yours, the world melted away. Slow and soft yet fiery and passionate the same time, as unpredictable as Race himself. His hand moved to cup your jaw and draw you closer, your arms finding their way to wrap around his neck.

When you pulled apart, there was stars in both of your eyes.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Racetrack.”

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

You sighed lightly at the fond memories, feeling incredibly grateful for all that had happened in order to bring you to where you were.

“We’s really made it huh?”

Race briefly chuckled into your shoulder, before raising his head and placing another long kiss against your neck, “We’s really made it.”

[thaumaturtles]

Begin ANGELQUEST

The other day, I was doing some.......

...... studying.......

When I came across an advertisement. This isn’t at all an unusual experience; I’ve been on the internet for a decade and change and I’ve come to accept that ads are a part of the experience. This was an ad I’d seen many times before, too. I’m so accustomed to seeing it that my eyes often skip right over it. However, I’ve been reading a lot of articles about Enlightenment, lately, and I’ve been trying to put that into practice in my everyday life. I’ve been attempting, to varying degrees of success, to become more aware of myself and my environment, to probe onward into my mind’s own blind spots. In short, I’m trying to blitz my chakras. (Don’t worry, am Indian, can reclaim.)

And so, for perhaps the first time, I took a moment to truly see the ad in front of me. To stop and smell the dogshit hiding behind the roses. And, goodness, was it a sight to behold. Ladies, gentlemen, and all who fall betwixt, I present to you, THIS:

Take a moment, if necessary, to take it all in.

Have you collected yourself? Good. You’re holding up the rest of the class.

I don’t know how I’ve managed to let this pass without mental comment on more than one occasion. How did I look at this image, think “angel reading? yeah, sure, that’s a thing that exists” and then shuffle along? The only explanation I can muster is Divine intervention, which would ironically lend this product some legitimacy. I need to understand. What does Angel Reading mean? How could such a process be personalized, and, furthermore, how could it take place over the Internet? Who is this “Celeste”? What is she after? Why does she look vaguely disappointed in me? Can she see my soul? What is an “Angelic Medium”?????

Clearly, if I want answers, I’m going to have to dive in. I place my Crocodile Dundee hat on my head with no small measure of trepidation, though I must confess a moiety of excitement deep within. As I hike up my Adventurin’ Shorts and stuff a few hundred metres of rope into my backpack, I consider the long road ahead. And then, with my cosplay explorer’s outfit put on to my approval, I sit down at my computer. I’m really not sure why I felt the need to do all that when I’m just gonna be here at home.

I steel my will, and I click.

This loading screen appears, and I’d like to mention that the URL for this page is perhaps longer than any URL I’ve ever seen before in my 16 years.

Okay, let’s just take a moment to get our bearings here and-

HOLY MACKEREL, THERE’S A COUNTDOWN!

And only twenty-seven minutes left! Sakes alive, I clicked this link just in time! Imagine If I’d wasted more time farting around and dressing up like Indiana Jones!

Although, weirdly enough, whenever I refresh the page, the timer restarts, and it always restarts at 27 minutes and 50ish seconds, which is a random-enough number to seem legitimate.

Hmm. Odd.

I wonder if maybe the countdown isn’t actually real and is just there to pressure you into typing your info more quickly so you don’t notice how fishy this whole opera-

OH MY GOD ONLY 26 MINUTES!!!!!!!

OK, gotta think quickly here. Gosh, they’re asking some personal questions right off the bat, but I can’t let them know it’s me; they might recognize me from tumblr. If this sting operation’s gonna go forth I gotta lie my ass off. My name? Uh, uh.. My name is Dyl-Dy- Uhhhh, shit, okay, it’s Dylan-NO, Dylllllllll...... Delilah? Delilah. Like from the Bible. Yeah, that’s fitting, especially since I’m swindling these fools. Soon, Celeste, your hair will be mine.

They’re asking for my date of birth, which I’m hesitant to put because my 16th birthday party was kind of a big deal and Celeste might’ve heard about it, in which case she’ll know it’s me AND things will be super awkward cause I didn’t invite her to the party.

I put 4/13/1969 obviously

They’re also asking for my e-mail address, which I can’t give out because it has my full name, address, and social security number in it, so let’s just pull this ripcord real quick and parachute out of this nightmare zone, and over to a quick, free, secure e-mail client. That is, protonmail.com, which is not my usual e-mail server and will thus throw Celeste’s goons even farther off my trail

Wow, that was a surprisingly quick and painless process! I might just have to use protonmail in the future

So anyway here’s my info, sent in right under the wire, with a mere 24.3 minutes left! God that was close. Picture that classic scene in Indiana Jones where he slides under the door and then reaches back in to get his hat, only it’s an out-of-shape teen and also the door hasn’t even started closing yet.

I went with my actual country because, c’mon, there’re a lot of people in Jamaica. Statistically speaking, how likely is it they’d find me through that?

You know I didn’t. You know I fucking didn’t. Why are you asking.

Also, here’s a quick rundown of what Celeste is actually offering in case anyone was curious. It does somewhat tickle me that she claims she’ll “get to work immediately” as soon as anyone clicks the link and subscribes, as though the process isn’t completely automated. It evokes a clear image of Celeste, in full angelic garb, sitting at a computer screen and answering calls while also typing into three discrete keyboards simultaneously.

The idea that she could personally take the order of every individual who clicks this ad betrays either a complete lack of confidence in the desirability of her product, or an incredible amount of confidence in her own ability to multitask.

Who is “she”? Celeste? That doesn’t make much sense in the context here. Peter’s Guardian Angel? But earlier Celeste made it sound like all angels use he/him! Also, what does “bring her back” mean if it’s the angel? Can angels leave and later be found again? I feel like if you find your guardian angel once, that should be it forever, but apparently they can leave and you have to ensnare them again?????

Hooray! A link from an unknown source to an unknown destination! I sure can’t wait to click it all day long!

The things I do in the name of science, I swear to God Celeste.

It took a minute but here it is. Sidenote: I rather enjoy the irony of an inbox which consists of three e-mails about encryption and ways to curate a safe internet experience, and one which is an automated link from a bullshit ad for a product that doesn’t exist. There’s a subtle poetry to this image. I almost want to frame it, and then sell it for an exorbitant amount of money.

Here’s the e-mail, folx. If ever you needed proof that this was a scam, look no further.

Who on this good green earth would think beginning such a missive with, “Thank you for your trust,” would be a good way to garner MORE goodwill? When I go to my local grocer and I purchase a party-sized bag of Tostitos to eat by myself over the course of a day and a half because I’m in control of my body, goddammit, the bag doesn’t say, “Thank you for believing in us! We promise we won’t give you dysentery!

Like, what the fuck? “Thank you for your trust.” Your product should be able to stand on its own two feet and proudly proclaim, “I’m gonna give you a fucking angel reading or die trying!”

That initial line has honestly made me more scared than ever for this process. I’m confident I’m going to click that link and it’s going to auto-download a terabyte of obscure Norwegian pornography to my hard drive. I did just update my computer this morning, however, and all my data are backed up, so I feel somewhat more secure than I might otherwise.

Did I really just say “data are”? I know it’s grammatically correct and all, but it’s still jarring to hear. Messes with my mental flow. And wouldn’t the proper, descriptivist thing to do be to use “data is” to avoid confusion? Using “data are” feels clunky, is more difficult to say, and makes me look a bit snobbish. I’d delete it but that would require hitting the backspace button on my computer and I’m frankly quite lazy about that sort of thing. What was I talking about again? Oh, right. I have to click the link.

 Again with the “thank you for your trust” bullshit! Whatever, I’m going to let it pass. They’re clearly going for a friendly, approachable persona here, even if they’re doing it in the most threatening, ass-backwards way possible.

This next email took a seemingly endless eight minutes to arrive, during which time I meditated, raised a bonsai tree to adulthood, watched Marley & Me, grappled with intense feelings of loneliness, and worked on some of my homework.

Or maybe I just played games on my phone. You decide!

Okay, not quite what “hereby” means, but sure. It’s a common mistake, likely exacerbated by the presence of the word “here” within “hereby.” Sort of a “wherefore does not mean where” situation I suppose.

Anyway, I’m submitting to the mortifying ordeal of clicking the link yet again.

Christ get a load of this shit. How fitting that the Angelic stone for someone born on 4/13 would be Jade. My archangel is Megatron apparently??? His info claims he’s some sort of scribe. My major planet is Neptune, and my secondary planet is.... the sun? Is anyone going to tell Celeste what stars are or do I have to do everything myself around here? I do like that ram up in the top left though. I’m naming you Ram Elliot.

Now for the pièce de résistance. Meet Mahasiah. Mahasiah is not my guardian angel; Mahasiah is the guardian angel for anyone born between April 10th-14th. My guardian angel is Yerathel, apparently. A few things I learned while researching this: both Mahasia and Yerathel have “feminine energies” (???) and both have Fire as their associated classical element. Also, Yerathel rules over Intelligence, which is one thing I actually somewhat like about myself. This is actually kind of neat to learn about!

I mean come on. That’s pretty fuckin cool. His name means “He Who Punishes Evildoers” which is beyond epic, and his associated gem is Smoky Quartz, aka the only Steven Universe character.

You know, maybe this whole Angel Reading business isn’t a scam after all. Maybe it’s a perfectly safe process and I’ll be totally fine, what am I worrying about? At the very least, it couldn’t hurt to explore her site a bit more..... for research’s sake.

yeah baby tell me more

h-

certainly, miss celeste, anything for you

wait, aren’t I already in a relationshi-

JAZZERCISING JUNIPERS BATMAN THERE’S ONLY 28 MINUTES LEFT

holy shit! I want accurate readings!

Oh god oh no okay i’ll do whatever you want celeste please don’t leave me i need my tarots

THEY KNOW ABOUT ME ALREADY OMG

Well, okay, even in my currently addled state I can still see that “Duo-Telepathy” is complete bullshi-

OH WELL IF AMANDA GAVE THEM THREE WHOLE STARS I HAVE TO TRUST IT

Amazingly, my info was pre-filled in. Almost like this site is linked to Celeste’s in some way, or perhaps even run by the same group of scammeUPSTANDING CITIZENS IS WHAT I MEANT TO SAY

Ooh, another e-transmission from my good friend Celeste! Oh, how I’ve missed her! And apparently large and surprising discoveries have been made concerning me! She’s presenting me a Guide? I sure hope I’ll be able to open it, hassle-free, with no additional purchases/information required!

OHOHOHOHO

bro i’m shitting my drawers rn

I have no fucking clue what that means but you said FREE so i’m in!

oh my god there’s still so much left. just shut the fuck up and take my money you fools

AW TITS YEAH

....i think

Okay, I know the original thing said FREE and I should be “mad” or watever, but look at that bargain! that’s more than half off! It might as well be free! I’d be stupid NOT to buy it!

I’ve invented a lot of secondary information for Delilah. The phone number is merely (559) YOU-SUCK, as a subtle way of establishing the power dynamic at play here. I’m sure Celeste will appreciate it.

Hmmmmm.............. It would seem my method of “just input numbers randomly” won’t work here. Such a shame. Credit card fraud used to be so easy. I’ll have to put that on the backburner, though, because look what just appeared in my inbox!

You can see where this is going.

I’ll take my leave now, this post is getting long enough as is, but I do feel it’s important to note that doing a quick bit of research shows that Celeste & co. are famous for emotional manipulation, as well as getting people addicted to their products and forcing a sort of dependency upon them. It’s important to do your research, and remember basic internet safety tips like don’t click popups or check if a site is legit before downloading from them. It’s incredibly easy to get trapped down this sort of rabbit hole, where you wind up buying more and more of their products like you’re stockpiling for the Rapture. Not me, though, I’m obviously fine and can quit anytime I like. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go try a bunch of credit card numbers until one works.

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Murderhorse Meddling

{{Just something silly for your birthday, love. Vivi does not do as told, just so you know.}}

“He’s up to something,” Vivi fumed, shredding her napkin into smaller and smaller pieces and glaring daggers at the tall figure standing at the server’s stand of the outdoor cafe.

“Vivi—” Under the table, Mystery put his paws over his muzzle and did his best to inject a soothing tone into his voice, in spite of his frustration. “Since when has he done anything wrong?”

Vivi’s hands slapped down on the table. “You know what he did! He tried to ki—”

“Recently,” Mystery interrupted, a little desperately. “Since then, he has done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know that!” Vivi seethed, lifting the tablecloth to glare into his eyes. “He could have done any number of things when we can’t keep our eyes on him.”

Mystery resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “Vivi, we would have heard about any disappearances. And, not to put too fine a point on it, no livers have washed up on the shore recently.”

“So he’s hiding them, or eating them too!”

“Vivi, he is not doing that. He has admitted that due to the high iron content of liver, he cannot digest it. It’s not quite poisonous, but it does him no favors.”

“Good,” Vivi dropped the tablecloth and returned her attention to the man who was even now accepting a receipt from the server. “Remind me to make him some Foie gras pasties.”

Just then, Calder turned around and fixed her with an unreadable look before striding off, his back stiff.

“See!?” Vivi crowed. “Proof he’s up to no good!”

“I’m relatively certain he could feel you glaring at him,” Mystery opined cautiously. He was well within kicking distance if she took exception to his words.

“Not even just that.” A voice whispered from thin air. After a moment, Lewis faded back into visibility behind a screen of bushes, stepping back to take a seat across from Vivi and put on the sunglasses waiting for him on the table. “He said to remind you that he can sense me, even when I’m invisible. And he’ll thank us not to spy on him.” His last words took on a hint of Calder’s distinctive Scottish brogue.

Vivi growled low in her throat. “What was he doing?”

“Nothing illicit that I could see,” Lewis assured her. “It looked like he was buying a gift certificate.”

“Vivi—” Mystery tried again.

“He had to be up to something.” Vivi turned to glare in the direction the target of her ire had gone. “Maybe he conned that poor server into giving him a certificate for… like leaves under an illusion to look like real money. Some of my books say faeries are prone to do that!”

“No,” Mystery stuck his head out from under the table. “I would have sensed that.”

Vivi’s irritated gaze snapped back to him. “You couldn’t even sense anything from him when you were sitting under the same table he was at!”

“Not his personal magics, no. In his human form those are well hidden. But illusion magic I can sense, easily. He was using none. He has not broken his word or his sworn trust.”

“What trust?” Vivi asked suspiciously, reaching down to snag his collar. “He didn’t give us any trust, He just said he wouldn’t try to steal Arthur again. When did he give you his word?”

Mystery’s eyes skated sideways. “It doesn’t matter. Suffice to say, he swore to do no harm to any of us.”

“Talk!” Vivi commanded, giving his collar a little shake.

“Woof.” Mystery said dryly.

“Mystery!”

“Vivi,” Lewis attempted to soothe her. “That doesn’t really matter. It just means he wasn’t up to no good, this time.”

Vivi was in no mood to be soothed. “This time! That doesn’t mean he’s not planning anything. I don’t trust him any farther than I can throw him.”

Mystery shook off her grip on his collar. “Considering your chances of lifting him to throw him are between zilch and none, that’s hardly sensible.”

“Don’t you give me any of your lip, butt-sniffer!”

“Really, Vivi? Name-calling?” Mystery stuck his nose up in the air. “I am insulted.” “You’re gonna be assaulted if you don’t start talking!”

Lewis put a hand on her arm. “Inside voice, love.”

Vivi scowled at him, but lowered her voice. “We’re not inside,” she pointed out, waving to the open-air cafe.

“Point,” Lewis conceded, chuckling. “But you were getting way too loud.”

Vivi puffed up her cheeks in a pout but didn’t try to contradict him. “I don’t trust him. He’s a sneaky, slimy— evil— murderhorse!”

“He’s been behaving himself lately,” Lewis reminded her gently. “Why are you so sure he’s up to something?”

“When has he not been up to something?” Vivi stared at her drink, running a finger around the rim of the glass.

“You need to let go of that grudge, Vivi, before you strangle yourself with it.” Mystery stretched out in the shade of the table. “You know well enough that no good comes of keeping anger in your heart.” His pointed glance darted to Lewis, who ducked his head.

Sticking her tongue out, Vivi blew a raspberry in Mystery’s direction. “I don’t want to. It is my indelible right to hate his giant horse butt.”

“Vivi—” Mystery’s tone was exasperated. “He has been true to his word. He has even been helpful, of late. I borrowed the book that helped you deal with the fuath from him.”

“What?” Vivi’s eyes narrowed.”I wondered where that book had come from. And where it had vanished to.”

“We returned it to its rightful owner,” Lewis put in.

“Proof that he was being helpful.” Mystery added, stretching his paws out.

Vivi made a dismissive noise. “He probably just didn’t want it anywhere near his territory.”

Yipping annoyance, Mystery fixed her with a flat stare. “It was all the way over the border into Louisiana. Calder only claimed the lake and its environs here.”

“He probably th—”

Lewis’s palm over her mouth stopped her. “Vivi, I think Mystery is right this time. He hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re letting your temper get the better— Did you just lick my hand?” Lewis’s tone was a blend of horror and amusement.

Vivi fixed him with a smug look. “And I’ll do it again if you try to shoosh me like that again.”

Lewis wiped his hand on a napkin. “Very mature, Vi.”

Snorting, she leaned back in her chair. “I never claimed to be mature.”

“While this is all very entertaining, can we draw the conclusion that he is not up to something this time?” Mystery yawned deliberately.

Vivi snorted at him, but subsided. “I just don’t trust him.”

“I believe we are well aware of that,” Mystery shook his head and sneezed.

~~~

Vivi sailed into Kingsmen Mechanics, arms full of takeout boxes from Pepper Paradiso. “Artie, I come bearing food. You better come get some before I—” Her voice trailed off when she realized Lance was the only one there, standing in front of the counter with a wary look on his face and a wrench held defensively in his hands.

“Uncle Lance—?” She paused, setting the takeout on the counter. “What’s going on? Where’s Arthur?”

Lance tilted his head toward the rear of the shop, his expression, going from wary to bemused. “He’s out back in the junkyard. I sent him out there to sort scrap when I got the damnedest phone call. I didn’t even know that horse-faced creep had a phone.”

Wary now, Vivi glanced back over her shoulder. She knew exactly who Lance was talking about. “Neither did I. Why did he call you? I thought you told him in no uncertain terms he wasn’t allowed to come here.”

Lance huffed. “Right enough, I did. Made damned sure he knows where he stands with me. Preferably as far away from Arthur as possible an’ still be on the same planet.”

“What did he want?” Vivi demanded, darting to the back door to peer out into the junkyard. Her relief at seeing Arthur peacefully sorting through piles of scrap, his head bobbing in time to the music on his headphones, was palpable, filling her chest.

“That’s the funny thing,” Lance responded, setting his wrench down. “Asked me, all polite like, to make sure that Arthur had this Friday off.”

“What?” Vivi knew her voice scaled into painful ranges when Lance winced away. “What the hell?”

Lance jiggled a pinky finger in his ear before shaking his head. “Damned if I know. Thought maybe you did.”

Fuming, Vivi pulled out her phone and dialed Lewis’s number with a violent stab of her finger. “No. But you can bet I’m gonna find out!” As soon as Lewis’s voice answered, she barked, “Lewis, Kingsmen’s now for a strategy meeting. I told you that sneaky bastard was up to something!” She hung up before Lewis had a chance to make more than a startled interrogative noise.

“I knew it!” she seethed, pacing. “I knew he was up to something when I saw him the other day! I just knew it!”

“What’s he up to then, girlie, an’ how many ways do I have to beat him black an’ blue?” Lance’s face was set in a thunderous scowl.

“I don’t know, and all of them,” Vivi retorted. “You— none of us— are letting Arthur out of our sight Friday.”

A burst of purple fire heralded Lewis’s arrival. His human facade had faded into bone and swirling flame. “What is it? What’s going on? Is Arthur alright?”

An oily rag sailed past his head. “Cool yer damned jets before you set the whole place on fire, boy!” Lance barked. “My insurance ain’t gonna cover overwrought ghost inferno. An’ put your face back on before you scare off a customer.”

Vivi hurried over to Lewis and gripped his arm. “Nothing has happened to Arthur yet, Lew. But I told you that horse’s patootie was up to something!”

Lewis paused, his human features replacing the skeletal visage. “What? What’s going on?”

VIvi filled him in quickly.

Lewis held up a hand after a moment, before she could launch into more detail, and, to be honest, probably more accusations. “Wait. So he what? Start at the beginning and go slowly.”

Vivi opened her mouth, but Lewis laid a gentle finger across her lips. “Mr. Kingsmen first, please, love.” Vivi huffed and debated licking his finger, but subsided after a moment.

“I’d sent Art out to sort scrap for his latest project since it’s a slow day,” Lance waved at the empty stalls of the garage in illustration. “The phone rang an’ I answered it. It was that Calder fella, recognized his accent right off. I started to hang up on him when he said ‘I know you don’t care for me, but I have a favor to ask.’ I asked him ‘what favor?’ and he, all polite, goes— ‘Could you see your way to givin’ Arthur this Friday off?’ ”

“Did he say why?” Lewis asked.

“Nah. I asked, an’ all he said was he thought Arthur might enjoy a long weekend.” Lance scowled accusingly at the phone on his desk. “Then he thanked me, still polite, mind ya, an’ hung up.”

“That’s all?”

“Everything.” Lance nodded stoutly.

Lewis turned his attention to Vivi, who looked ready to explode. “So he wanted Arthur to have a long weekend and this is an emergency how?”

“Don’t you see? He has to be planning something for this Friday!” Vivi jittered in place. “If we take our eyes off Arthur, who knows what he’ll do? He might even try kidnapping him again!”

“I think you are letting your paranoia get the better of you.” Mystery had eeled in the open door and hopped up on a stool to address them. “Also, Vivi, think before you send Lewis off in that state, I could sense him all the way back at the apartment. So could anything with supernatural senses. Eau de’ hysterical spectre leaves a lovely trail in the aether.”

Lewis ducked his head a little.

“I am not paranoid!” Vivi rounded on Mystery, fists on hips and cheeks red. “He’s a fae. They never do something without an ulterior motive! And he’s less trustworthy than most of them!”

“You are letting your anger color things,” Mystery responded serenely. “Yes, He did some terrible things in the beginning. We all made mistakes then. All of us, including Calder. And since, he has kept every promise he has made to us. He does not hunt humans, he has kept his distance from Arthur and indeed, all of us, and he has willingly lent us his knowledge, be it books or simply things he knows better than mortals.”

“He what now?” Vivi simmered, glaring at Mystery. “Are you talking about that book?”

Mystery chuffed softly and met her gaze calmly. “That and some few other times Lewis or I have asked for his aid. And to be honest would you have accepted knowing where the information came from?” he laughed. “I think not. More likely you would have thrown it back in his face, if we had told you the source, even if it was knowledge we desperately needed.”

Sighing, Lewis nodded. “Vi, I don’t care for him either, and believe me, I haven’t forgotten what happened, but—” he chuckled wryly. “I’ve moved on.”

Vivi flinched, her glare softening. “Let me guess, if you can get past it, I should be able to, too?”

Drifting forward, Lewis cupped her cheek. “You wouldn’t be you, if you gave up on anything, but you also know when to let logic trump emotion. Tell me, are you being reasonable about this? Given the evidence, are you letting your anger rule or are you going to look at it logically?”

Vivi gritted her teeth. “I don’t like or trust him.” She heaved a sigh. “But you say he’s been keeping his word, and you, I trust.”

Lewis pulled her into a hug.

“How about explaining it to the peanut gallery,” Lance grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “I ain’t inclined to trust him either, Blue, not after what you two and him told me went down.”

Lewis released Vivi and stepped back, his hair flaring a little. “It’s not that we trust him, Mr. Kingsmen—” he began.

“As Vivi told you before, Calder is a fae creature. That means that he is bound by his word. A fae might try to twist the wording of a bargain to their advantage, but their word, once given, is inviolate. They cannot break it. Calder swore on his honor and on the names of the eldest fae, commonly called gods and goddesses, that he would not try to steal Arthur away again.” Mystery finished for him.

Lance stared the dog down for a long moment, but Mystery did not flinch. Finally he sighed heavily. “So what’s he after, wanting Arthur to have the day off?”

“That, I do not know. But I do not think it is done with any ill-intention.”

Vivi and Lance managed a disgruntled sigh in complete unison.

“So what? I just give the boy the day off an’ hope nothin’ happens?” Lance’s displeased look could have curdled cream.

“I think that would be for the best.” Mystery prodded, glancing at Vivi.

She heaved another sigh. “I hope you two are right about this.”

~~~~

Friday dawned bright and sunny, just cool enough to be comfortable, but not chilly. Vivi was decidedly reluctant to let Arthur get out of bed, snuggling close to his chest and grumping. “Uncle Lance gave you the day off, right? I vote for staying right here in bed.”

Arthur chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “While it sounds good to me, Lewis is already up and any minute—”

“Up and attem, slugabeds,” Lewis’s voice called. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Told ya.” Arthur chortled.

Vivi groaned but dragged herself out of bed, the call of Lewis’s cooking too tempting to linger.

In pajamas, they trooped to the kitchen, where Lewis was dishing out wonderful smelling omelets onto plates. The table was already set, with orange juice in glasses and Vivi’s over-sized coffee mug already filled to the brim. In the center of the small table was a vase filled with flowers, and Vivi couldn’t help a suspicious glare at them. Water hyacinth, water lilies, and lotus blossoms filled the vase. It was more than easy enough to guess where they had come from. Even Arthur paused to look at them oddly.

Lewis set the plates down, including one at his own seat, and grinned. “Bon Appetit!”

“Uh, Big guy?” Arthur stared at the third plate, confusion in his heterochromatic eyes.

Mystery chuckled from his place on the floor, with his own plate of omelet. “I think it’s time to come clean, Lewis.”

Lewis snorted and fixed Mystery with a mock glare. “You couldn’t let me enjoy the looks of confusion for a little longer?”

“No.”

Vivi fixed Lewis with a glare. “Are you really Lewis?”

Lewis laughed, hair throwing off little sparks of pink. “I am, I promise.”

She got up and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Then I would like some answers to what the hell is going on now, please!”

Lewis smiled and detached her hands from his collar. “Calder was up to something, just not in the way you thought, love.” He pulled a tiny charm from under his shirt. “This is part of it. This lets me eat and drink… and taste the food… like normal. It only lasts for a day before it has to be recharged, but he gave Mystery the spell to do so.”

“And before you ask, I made very sure there is nothing else to the spell. It does exactly as advertised. It merely allows Lewis to enjoy food like he used to.”

Arthur gaped at Lewis. “Really? That’s awesome!”

“I think I’ll let him explain the rest.” Lewis said with a grin.

“What!?” Vivi bolted upright, glancing in alarm at the paper wards that were above every door and at every window of the apartment. They were undisturbed.

“Calm down,” Mystery looked up with a canine grin.

Lewis set a pearl on the table. It shimmered in the overhead light and glowed with its own soft radiance. An image formed in the air above it; Calder, from the shoulders up, one eyebrow quirked and a wry half smile on his lips. He shoved a hand through his tumbled bangs. “Ah, an’ here I was thinkin’ you’d sleep the day away. Mornin’.”

“Calder!” Arthur exclaimed, voice bright with surprise.

Vivi moved to lean over Arthur’s shoulder and stared at Calder’s image. “What are you up to?” For once the hostility in her voice had mellowed.

“Why, bein’ more trouble than I’m worth, I’m sure. Can I nae do somethin’ for the birthday o’ one o’ me friends?” Calder chuckled dryly. “It happens I thought I might do somethin’ nice for the lad, as much as against my nature as it might be t’ be nice.”

“Calder!” Arthur scolded.

“Ah, dinna mind me. Now that I got that frightenin’ old man o’ yours t’ give y’ the day off, I bethought y’ might wanna spend it enjoyin’ the company o’ those you love best.”

“Ah?” Arthur’s face was a study in confusion.

Puffing his cheeks out, Calder exhaled a gusty sigh. “I mean for y’ three t’ go out an’ about doin’ whatever romantical-date-type things people do when they’re datin’. Go out t’ eat, watch a film, go on a walk, chase ghosts… or is that last one only you lot?”

“Hey!” Vivi stuck her tongue out at Calder’s image.

“My point bein’, go out an’ have a nice time for Arthur’s birthday. Take him places, treat him t’ nice food an’ nice things.” Calder retorted, exasperated. “The lad deserves a nice day out, an’ by dint, I suppose y’ do too.”

Arthur was blushing, his face and ears gone bright pink. “C-Calder, that’s not necessary. None of you have to do anything for my birthday. Not you and not them. You don’t need to go through that kind of trouble for me!”

“Hey now—!” Lewis began.

Vivi’s attention snapped to Arthur. “You shoosh that talk, bucko. You’re our boyfreind and if we want to spoil you on your birthday, we can. I was gonna have a small party for you tomorrow, but this will do just fine, even—” She cut herself off.

“A sneaky slimy connivin’ murderhorse planned it,” Calder finished, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Though I’d be thankin’ you t’ remember I’m nae a horse.”

“He just plays one on TV,” Mystery chuckled.

“An’ sure’n that’s enough outta you, mutt.”

Lewis held up a hand. “Seriously, Artie, we’re not obliged to do it, we want to. It’s no kind of trouble at all.”

“Lissen t’ your spectral lover, lad. There ‘tis no obligation in wantin’ t’ treat y’ with love and the good things y’ deserve.” Calder said solemnly. “That’s why I went about doin’ this, because it’s somethin’ you deserve, even when y’ think y’ don’t.”

Lewis reached over to cover one of Arthur’s hands with his own. “Let us… all of us, do nice things for you today.”

“Right enough,” Calder broke in before the moment could get too maudlin. “Now, I got you a certificate t’ that cafe y’ like so, the one where the mutt ‘tis welcome. I dinna know where you’d like t’ go after that, but just… have yourself a good time for your birthday.”

Vivi slipped her arms around Arthur’s neck and squeezed. “It’s gonna be the most awesome birthday ever, even if Calder had a hoof in it.” Maybe she could even cut him a little slack, not that she’d ever tell the stupid horse.

[tommy-catt0-blog]

Outsmarted By A Computer Hacker

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[gweyson]

Melina A4, A16, B3, B9, C7, E2, F11, G1, H2 and I1, and Alcyone A7, A15, B1, B13, C4, E1, F10, G4, H8 and J2?

A4: Are they a pessimist or an optimist?

shes an optimist, and she tries to cheer everyone up/bring them around to her line of thinking as well! ^__^

A16: Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

she does try to listen but she doesnt really take lessons on board until theyve actually happened to her 

B3: Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

if shes tired or overwhelmed then she gets a lot less peppy and a lot more likely to take it out on whoever’s nearest

B9: What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

she wont admit how much she likes random humour....... she does like slapstick and puns tho

C7: Do they believe people change over time? If so, is it a natural process or does it take effort?

she thinks people can change but it’s something they have to put effort into... it’s nowhere near a passive process

E2: Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

her strength is spatial intelligence, her weakness is interpersonal

F11: What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?

shes the kind of person who picks up and drops hobbies all the time. sewing is probably her most consistent one though

G1: Is your OC close to their family?

shes (was??) super close with her mum, idk about the rest of her family though

H2: Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

she thinks she’s a lot more thoughtful than she actually is tbh

I1: What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?

sweet and salty are her favs!!

A7: Is your OC confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?

she’s usually pretty confident in herself but if she’s pressed she can pretty easily start questioning herself

A15: Is your character observant?

yep. shes usually tryingt o take mental notes on whatever’s going on! she has a pretty good memory

B1: Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

she thinks you have to respect people with more authority with you (ie her bosses) but everyone else has to earn it

B13: Do they have a large or small group of friends?

very small, shes always been a bit of a loner

C4: Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

she somehow manages both

E1: Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

she’s very much above average intelligence. she does kinda know shes smart but she doesnt give herself enough credit !!!

F10: Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are? 

i feel like shed be in to some kind of art but idk what so uhhh *insert really good answer here*

G4: What kind of childhood did your OC have?

her backstory isnt super developed but as of right now she had a pretty good family, they were just extremely strict

H8: What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

she’ll just wanna stay in and chill. honestly she’ll be too amazed that someone actually wants to date her to care what they do too much

J2: How politically aware are they?

not very, she kinda just keeps up with what happens on the space colony and there’s not a lot of political stuff that goes on there. she doesnt keep up with much of earth’s goings on anymore and she hasnt for a while

[aittiadf]

chapter 2

My eyes felt like screws after the seventh hour of manning the reception desk at New Ocean Hotel. My shift was almost over and every minute dragged itself over the slow blue sky. I went into the back bathroom, sat on the toilet and took a few hits from my vape pen. The high smoothed me over. I looked down at the checkered tiles of the bathroom floor and pulled out my phone. Samantha had texted me saying there was  someone she wanted me to meet. This guy from her church who drank with her had just seen the lights for the first time. She described him as a sheepless shepherd who wandered around praying to a higher power. Aren’t we all sheepless shepherds I thought but then I realized maybe people had more meaningful ways of understanding their life. 

She told me this guy was looking for a job and needed a place to stay. I didn’t really know how much I should care. Nothing really happened here and if some person wanted to be by the beach alone with an easy job then sure, he should come and stay for a while. If he had seen the lights at the very least it might give him some space to calm down. For me though it was boring. I’d worked here for over a year and only stayed because it gave me time to work on the free coding academy I had recently enrolled in. What I really wanted was to get out of this hotel and work for one of the startups in the bigger town to the south. 

The only time the hotel got busy was during the summer. But even then, when tourist season was in full force, none of the rooms would be filled. But there was always a two-four week span when the fires forced people out from the valleys or the mountains and the rates would spike higher than they were the rest of the year. We would be filled to the brim during that time, having to deny people and everything. It was cruel to raise rates during an environmental crisis. Supposedly there was an algorithm that decided the prices for all the hotels in a thirty mile radius so the rates were always the same and there wasn’t any real competition. So it was all blameless. The mechanized blasphemous rate spiking that occurred when people’s houses were burning to the ground could be attributed to the cloud or some other unknowable piece of technology whose existence could only be hinted at and never named. 

    I walked back to the front desk and sat at the computer trying to decipher an error in the coding assignment I was working on. It was useless. My brain was fried and I wanted to walk out the door and go home. I couldn’t, so I booted up youtube instead. Fifteen minutes later, I was on my fourth video of this guy who had a hydraulic press. The niche of the channel was that he exclusively pressed food. Lately it seemed he’d been going to a lot of fast food restaurants. I stood there transfixed as I watched the steel metal cylinder pulverize doritos locos tacos, double doubles, fish filets and atomic chicken wings. 

    My manager walked in from checking on some of the rooms in the hotel and I told her to come and take a look. She sat there dazed for a while as well, occasionally offering some commentary. 

“It's crazy to see food transform into such unrecognizable shapes” 

“This is making me hungry”

“That actually looks kind of good”

I liked her. She wasn’t sympathetic to the owners. They directed most of their nastiness onto her and she remained nice to the employees. Sometimes though the stress from the owners overflowed onto us. But there was this mutual understanding we seemed to have of the hotel’s emotional economy. Which is to say that we were aware the owners were some real cretinous fiends who cared about nothing but the rates and money and caused people to teeter at the edge. 

I think she knew I smoked in the restroom and she probably assumed I jacked off in there too, which wasn’t untrue. I indulged in what I was able to get away with. There was even this time me and this customer who I’d been chatting with locked eyes in the lobby when I came into work one morning. He and I went back into the bathroom and did all sorts of stuff. I think she knew about this too because we had security cameras but between us there was this tacit understanding that if you don’t have a big house with lots of dollars the coast in California is just a place where you go to dissolve into the sunset and burn off. 

    I told my manager I had a friend of a friend who needed a job and if she knew if we were hiring. She told me we weren’t but had seen that the steakhouse across the street was looking for servers. Both of us thought it was stupid that there was a steakhouse in this tiny little community. Apparently some silicon valley investor had got it in his mind that the real estate in this area would explode. The idea was that by developing some businesses and property in the area the energy of the coming boom would surge directly into his net worth. He had opened this all glass steakhouse, the type of building with exposed steel beams inside. So now, amid aging victorian homes and fields of wildflowers there was an all-glass restaurant that looked more like it made napalm than served ribeye. Maybe the meat was cloned. Either way, it had good reviews on Yelp.

    I told Samantha that if her friend was really looking for work that it was available here at this pretty stupid steakhouse.  We had this weird friendship that congealed around this time we did acid when we were seeing each other years ago. It was late and we were bored and awake so we decided to take a tab each and walk the couple miles down to the beachfront where we lived in central California. When we got there we took our shoes off and waded up into the ankles in the ocean. The wind was strong and the cold ocean water on our bodies began to feel like needles. There was this dingy beach motel by us with an iron gate that was rusted from the ocean breeze. It opened easily and we decided to take refuge in the stairway of the motel.  

All night we stayed awake feeling the euphoria from the acid and having the full force of California beach kitsch weigh on us. I remember taking solace in eating a bag of popcorn we bought and staring at this dead fly on the windowsill. When the sun rose we walked outside and I remember Samantha made fun of me when I took a picture of the sunrise. I told her not to be an asshole, nobody is better than the sun.

 On the sidewalk walking home we passed by subarus and lending libraries and stopped to look at the sky. There was a series of six orange lights high above us, moving fast and leaving a small streak of light behind them. We stood there walking with our heads fixed above. We watched them fly across the ocean and over the hills until they were far out of our sight. We didn’t even say anything to each other, we just kept walking by early morning joggers and freshly manicured lawns afterwards, staring at the sidewalk silently. 

That was so long ago now and certainly before I came out and she became a Christian. We just had an unspoken understanding that we needed to head in different directions. So I moved further up the coast here and she got some tech job in the Bay Area. I remember getting these weird emails at the time from this place called Excelsior Corp about test piloting this hardware VPN product. The emails just had one line of text: “Looking for test pilots hardware VPN now” and pictures of this big black box I assumed was the hardware you would have to install to access their VPN. I always sent the emails straight to the trash but somehow they always bypassed my spam and ended up straight in my inbox.

But after some time not talking to Samantha I reached out. I was smoking my wax pen on my porch one night when I saw a bunch of shooting stars shoot over me in rapid succession. I thought of Samantha. I sent her a text asking how she was doing. She told me she’d been well but had been having these weird things happen to her. She mentioned all these emails she’d been getting and that she’d started seeing drones in the sky and lights every few months. I hadn’t seen the lights but I’d gotten the same emails. She was telling me about it and she sounded scared but also she said she was doing well. 

“I’ve got a stable job and you know I go to church and stuff, and there are some really wonderful moments, just now I saw all these incredible shooting stars.” 

She sounded anxious and I was worried for her. I asked her if she liked smoking dabs. She’d never tried one. 

“It’s really chilled me out since that time we took acid.”

“I like my church and alcohol.”

 I was happy though because despite her nervousness she seemed happy. I let her know I’d seen the same shooting stars and she was ecstatic. Since then we’ve texted and called about strange stuff we see, about weird things happening in our phones, about plans for the future, about her theories on the Greeks, about my times engaging in public sex, about the hotel, about god, and about other things. We were friends and I enjoyed hearing about her world, from the far reaches of the front desk of the New Ocean Hotel. 

On the computer screen a wad of Chick-fil-A waffle fries were being squashed into potatoey dough. Me and my manager sat there watching until the steel cylinder had fully flattened the fries and the video faded to black. 

My manager gestured at the steakhouse, “What do you think it's like working there? Surrounded by glass for everyone to see? I could never do that. When I worked in a restaurant the kitchen’s used to be closed off from the eyes of the customers. Now they leave it wide open, I feel like I’d go insane.”

I thought of the owners of the hotel lording over me and reprimanding me every time I looked at youtube. “I’d probably go insane too,” I said. 

“I definitely would.” 

    When my shift was over I walked home and  stopped at the convenience store to buy a pack of gummy sharks.  I chewed on them while thinking about Samantha. I imagined her in church, with some ridiculous outfit on, sitting with her friend. I imagined them both listening intently to the words of the sermon, and getting up from the pews afterwards to fraternize with the other church members. I thought of how all that seemed impossible to me, making conversation to other people in a church. Maybe if I tried hard enough I could imagine it. I tried and my mind thought of being submerged in water. I thought of being in the womb. I thought of what it must be like to feel full. I thought of being in a congregation. What singing with others must feel like. I started to imagine myself there, sitting among the pews unable to join in with everyone’s song. I imagined what it would be like later on during the service, when the pastor gave his sermon. In my mind I listened to him while a stranger next to me reached for a bible on the shelf on the back of the pews and turned to the book of revelations. He placed the bible on my lap while I unbuttoned my pants and unfolded myself hard, smack dab in between the pages that talked about angels, blasphemy and a new Jerusalem. Then I imagined him stroking me while I listened to the sermon, my mind cascading through illuminated halos, until all that remained was a gold blur and me hooing softly like an owl, letting myself leak onto the thin paper pages and onto the carpet below. 

    It was funny to me that after that time taking acid Samantha started going to church and I got a hold on my sexuality. Too much of my life could be periodized around that trip and sometimes I felt at the brink, torn between the life I lived before and the life I was living now. But there was no actual break between the two, and they were both happening at the same time. I knew that in reality my life prior and my life after bled into each other, with experiences since then coloring the way I read the past and my life prior shaping the way I read the present. But a long black fissure stood there in my mind, dividing the two lives while they tried to congeal around the edges of the abyss. From that fissure too came not just me but Samantha, and maybe anyone else who had seen the lights. We sprouted out of it in different directions like vines, crawling out of black depths and over the grey plane of our existence, stretching into the bright orange line of the horizon. 

     My teeth smushed the blue-white body of the gummy shark in two. I chewed one piece and stared briefly at the shimmering half body of gelatin I held in between my two fingers. It would be possible for Samantha’s friend to find a job here. I even had an extra room in the converted apartment of the old Victorian house I rented. Then what? I suppose nothing, I would continue with my life, trying to learn to code and working at the hotel. Who knows what would happen when we met. There was this sensation I had though, that everyone who me and Samantha came in close contact with was somehow also sprouting out of the abyss, extending themselves over that grey plane and trying to reach the sun. 

[spacebrick3]

2, 4, and 9 for whoever!

I’ll do Zoe for this one, since she’s kinda sitting on the brain.

Quick note, since I haven’t made the worldbuilding post yet: Celoras - country, Coxendren - city

A:

A2: What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

Zoe is…likely chaotic neutral or chaotic good, depending on who you ask. She’d probably say that she’s chaotic good, while Iason would say that she’s chaotic neutral.

A4: Are they a pessimist or an optimist? 

A combination of both, really. She acts like a pessimist, but is still an optimist at hear - after all, she kind of has to be, to be a revolutionary. If you don’t believe things can get better, what’s the point of revolution?

A9: Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others? 

Not really. Zoe’s fairly straightforwards, and so are her morals. If you do something wrong, you’ve done something wrong - if she’s done something wrong, then, well, she’s done something wrong.

B:

B2: Do they get frustrated when lines at places like pharmacies, check-outs, delis, banks, et cetera, are moving slowly?

Yes and no. If it’s moving slowly because the teller is struggling, no, but if a customer - especially a rich or pretentious customer - is holding the line up, then she’ll be angry at them.

B4: Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

They absolutely tip well, even though they don’t have a lot of money, and it takes a lot to make them not tip. Since Zoe’s pretty chill, she’ll only stop tipping if it crosses the line into “the server tried to inflict actual physical harm”. It’s kind of like that one review that was ‘three stars. got stabbed here’.

B9: What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Either theater humor - so randomly quoting the plays and stuff that are common in Coxendren - or just dark humor.

(wait. if i say she enjoys people randomly quoting plays, then i have to write those quotes too. crap)

C:

C2: Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?

Zoe would absolutely feel bad, especially since she doesn’t have that many morals, so if she violates one, it’s pretty bad. Like above, she also wouldn’t be able to excuse it to herself.

C4: Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

No, and she also hates it when anyone else does.

D:

D2: Do they believe in an afterlife?

Kind of. Part of her believes in the afterlife that’s taught in the temples of Coxendren, part of her believes in a different afterlife that’s more fair, especially to people who have to be “immoral” just to survive, and part of her doesn’t believe in an afterlife at all.

D4: Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

Zoe would absolutely love to be immortal, for a couple reasons. First, immortality. Not being able to die’s a pretty great deal (even if it’s just not aging, not not-dying, it’s still pretty good). Second, revolution. Being immortal would mean that the Arbiters who rule Celoras and who control life and death wouldn’t be able to stop her - immortality goes directly against their powers. (hmm. interesting plot idea there.)

E:

E2: Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

Best is prrrrrrrobably body-kinesthetic, and worst is likely naturalist, but I’m not too familiar with that model so I can’t say for certain.

E4: Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

They didn’t go to school, but I think they would have enjoyed it, even if the teachers there might not have enjoyed her (except the drama teacher).

F:

F2: What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

Their ideal home would probably be a semi-abandoned theatre somewhere (no people go there, but it’s not completely in disrepair). It’d be in the center of the city, of course, and they would live there forever if…you know, it actually existed and she wouldn’t get kicked out.

F4: How clean are they overall with home upkeep?

Depends. They’re organized, but messy in general - as long as they know where everything is, then who else do they need to be clean for?

F9: Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

No (unless it’s that theater home mentioned above) - they like to be out, roaming the streets.

G:

G2: Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

Well, they have a family who lives on the other side of Coxendren from Iason’s shop - I don’t have names for them yet, but she has two brothers and a sister (all younger). Iason’s sort of a surrogate father, since she has to spend most of her time at his shop, but every week she makes sure to go back and spend time with her siblings. She’s never told Iason where she goes, but he knows anyways.

G4: What kind of childhood did your OC have?

…not great. Her mother used to be a wealthy politician in Coxendren, until the Arbiters took power and she was ousted and her family was thrown onto the streets. Though Zoe doesn’t remember that, she’s heard the story often enough that it’s a large part of why she’s a revolutionary.

H:

H2: Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

When they remember to be. They can be very considerate, but also have a tendency to get slightly distracted and then forget. So yes, but reminders are necessary.

H4: Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

Short answer: no. Longer answer: at first sight, you can find someone that you’d like to get to know better, but you can’t love them yet since you don’t know them.

H9: What are some things that your OC finds to be an instant turn-off in potential partners?

Supporting the current government and being aware of what they do is probably the biggest one, or just…being…a bad person…

I:

I2: Do they have any eating requirements or preferences? Allergies, vegetarian, organic-only, religious restrictions…

No - they’re really not picky eaters in general, and will eat pretty much anything. Except seafood, for some odd reason (even she doesn’t know), which is not great given that Coxendren is a coastal city.

I4: How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

They didn’t get much of a chance to cook during their childhood, but she’s begun to start trying to cook a little after hours in Iason’s shop - as expected, she’s not…that…good (she’s horrible), but she really enjoys it.

J:

J2: How politically aware are they?

see revolutionary, supra.

J4: Is your OC the sort to fall for fake news? If not, do they ignore it or make a point to clarify that it’s wrong?

I don’t think so - she might be more likely to believe something anti-government than pro-, although she knows enough about it to probably not believe either.

K:

For all of these: Zoe is not magical. Probably. (I mean, the entire premise of the story is people making a living hiding other people’s magical powers. There are no guarantees that anyone has a) no magical powers, or b) the same magical powers their hair/eye color should represent.)

L:

L2: What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Zoe’s pretty heavy on contradictions. The best example I can think of right now is: she’s a night prowler who uses daggers. That’s normally associated with stealth, except Zoe’s the loudest and most dramatic character in probably the entire book. She won’t sneak up and stab you - she’ll dramatically crash to the ground, challenge you to a duel, whirl around and throw one knife at you and then stab you in the back.

L4: Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

er…maybe? Zoe seems cool (and we’d both like theater) but she’s also kind of scary.

L9: How did you come up with your OC?

Well, I came up with the story’s premise - using dyes/contacts to hide magic - and that the characters would be a sailor on the dye ship and the contact glassmaker’s apprentice. Zoe was the glassmaker’s apprentice, and her character came from combing some aspects of Vin (from Mistborn) with everything that was directly opposite from Vin. 

[desdemona-wren]

J.G.A.R.G

A. Psychology

What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…

This isn’t something Jasmine cares about or knows.

What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

Jasmine is probably Lawful Good up until a certain point where she either becomes True Neutral or Chaotic good.

Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it?

All Wixen are aware of the cost of casting and use of magic. It’s just a thing their species has to deal with. She suffers from mild anxiety in social interactions as well just in addition to the whole. Magic slowly melting your brain thing.

Do they try to treat it?

The symptoms are easily treated with potions, but the root cause has no cure. Even wixen who don’t use casting will experience the same sort of problems. 

Are they a pessimist or an optimist?

Jasmine is probably an optimist, but in a cynical way. 

Are they good at handling change in their life?

Sure?

Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”

This question is stupid and Jasmine doesn’t want to answer it. 

Is your OC confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?

Jasmine is often easily embarrassed because of social anxiety and her voice getting shrill and weird when she talks to pretty girls who may or may not work in potion shops. 

Is your OC a martyr?

What the fuck does this mean. I doubt Jasmine is gonna die for a cause any time soon.

Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

No.

Does your OC compromise easily? Too easily?

She lets her older brother push her around a lot. They’re so precious.

Does your OC put others’ needs before their own?

Probably. Especially where her brother is concerned. Caspian is kind of a mess.

Does your OC have any addictions? If so and problematic, have they admitted it to themselves?

By nature, all casters are addicted to casting. 

Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

She does, but nothing she’s ready to admit. 

Is your character empathetic?

Certainly. She’s a beat peace keeping cop that has to deal a lot with diffusing emotional situations that could lead to an overuse of casting. She has to be empathetic in order to do her job. 

Is your character observant?

Yes.

Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

This was too long and I didn’t read it. Jasmine is frowning at me.

What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

Not murdering her brother.

Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

She can get jealous, yeah. Probably not easily. She doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially considering ALL PARTIES PRESENT KNEW HOW SHE FELT AND DID THE THING ANYWAYS. She was justified in her jealousy. 

What instantly irritates them or puts them in a bad mood?

Whenever her brother is sick or he pushes himself too hard and hurts himself. 

Are they harsh on themselves?

She used to be, but now she’s learned to take things in stride. She can’t be constantly hard on herself with her brother to worry about. 

Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?

I mean, I’m her mother so I’m always gonna think my baby is beautiful. Though, I wouldn’t say she’s conventionally attractive. She has too big eyes with pretty heavy dark circles underneath, a too small upper lip with an enormous pouty lower one that she thinks makes her look like a turtle, and her hair never wants to cooperate. She has a huge fluff of kinky curls that somehow are always busting out of clips. 

Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

She wears light makeup, has a skin care routine, etc. Most of this is taken care of by potions so it’s easier for people in this reality to have routines like this. Plus Jasmine likes the repetitive nature of putting makeup on. She’s into calming repetitive stuff. 

What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Honestly there’s a lot going on in her life right now, but her biggest obstacle is likely her brother’s unwillingness to care about her feelings as far as the girl in the potion shop goes. 

B. Social

Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

Dude whatever. Respect is respect is respect. Jasmine doesn’t need to answer this. 

Do they get frustrated when lines at places like pharmacies, check-outs, delis, banks, et cetera, are moving slowly?

No. She lives in a city. There are always lines. 

Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

She doesn’t.

Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

Yes.(TIP YOUR SERVERS, PEOPLE)

Do they hold doors open for people?

No.

Would your OC let someone ahead of them in line if your OC had a big cart and the person behind them had very few items?

No.

How do they respond to babies crying in public?

She ignores them like every other sane person. That’s not her kid. 

Is your OC considered funny? Do they believe they’re funny?

Probably. And no, she doesn’t think she’s funny. 

What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

None of the above. Her sense of humor is there, but pretty refined. She likes dry humor. 

Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?

Sure. She’s a caster. There are always going to be things you find funny (that aren’t funny) when you’re casted out. 

Your OC is running late to meeting someone: Do they let the other person know? Do they lie about why they’re late?

The other person knows and doesn’t care. Jasmine cares a lot, but it’s not something she apologizes for. She’s rarely late. 

Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?

Jasmine doesn’t order much “off menu” but if this did happen she’d probably send it back so the cooks could correct it or ask for the missing item. That or she wouldn’t care. 

Do they have a large or small group of friends?

She has a pretty large group of friends. Most of them cops, some she still knows from college. They go to jazz clubs and stuff. 

Do they have people they (that?) are genuinely honest with about themselves?

Her brother.

Does your OC enjoy social events, such as parties, clubs, et cetera..?

She does, sure. She’s introverted, but she can enjoy going out. Just not too much.

Does your OC like to be the center of attention or more in the mix?

Why can’t she just fade into the background and observe?

C. Morality

Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Yes. It comes from her not being a shitty person and she takes that very seriously.

Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?

Yes.

Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?

No.

Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

No.

Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

I’m gonna say yeah. People change. Dynamic characters are the best characters.

What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?

She’s a big ol’ softy. Buys coats and food for the homeless in their neighborhood. She often uses her position in law enforcement to help them out too. There are a lot of shelters around and she and some of the other cops are constantly checking in to make sure everything is running smoothly. 

There are a lot of initiatives for the homeless in Wixen universe. It comes with the territory. It’s possible a lot of casters could end up losing their livelihood due to the circumstances of their “illness” and they’ve come up with ways to combat this by having special housing for the homeless and the permanently casted out that are too far gone to remain in society. 

Do they believe people change over time? If so, is it a natural process or does it take effort?

Yes.

Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

Practical. 

D. Religion and Life and Death

How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?

In Wixen, monotheistic religions didn’t gain a lot of traction, so most of the religions are different than what people in our universe would believe. They have gods and goddesses and stuff like that. It’s normal for people, who utilize the old ways with spells and witchcraft, to worship the sun and the moon and the elements. 

Jasmine doesn’t buy into the old ways. She’s more progressive so she isn’t very religious. She may burn a candle for the goddess of the moon every year on the solstice. She likes the moon goddess. The sun god never hears from her though. 

Do they believe in an afterlife?

In Wixen, the general belief is that after death everyone becomes energy that goes back into the laylines to feed future magical generations. 

How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Fairly comfortable.

Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

Immortality isn’t something she likes to think about. 

Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

Ghosts are definitely real. Why would they not be real? Spirits that have unfinished business are everywhere. Or people that just didn’t wanna die and end up in the layline. They’re around. 

E. Education and Intelligence

Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Jasmine isn’t like wowwwowoow IQ of 9000 smart, but she’s not an idiot either. She’d definitely agree that she isn’t an idiot. 

Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

This is a dumb question. 

How many languages do they speak?

Four.

Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

Sure.

What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?

Bachelor’s.

Do they enjoy learning? Do they actively seek out sources of self-education?

Who doesn’t enjoy learning? Yes.

Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Yes, yes, yes.

What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

How she treated her brother after she lost her leg.

F. Domestic Habits, Work, and Hobbies

What sort of home do they live in now, if at all? How did they end up there?

She lives in a spacious apartment with her brother in Briarville, Delaware. They ended up there because of work. 

What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

She likes where she lives. Maybe one day she’ll have a farm in the country with a bunch of rescue creatures where she can rehabilitate them, but for now she wouldn’t trade her apartment for the world. 

Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

That’s just a trailer with extra steps. 

How clean are they overall with home upkeep?

Their home is clean, but definitely lived in.

How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Most things can be fixed with a well placed rune and a little casting. Things that can’t be, she just calls someone else to do it.

How much do they work? What do they do? Do they enjoy it?

She’s a beat cop so she works every day. She likes her job.

What’s their “dream career” or job situation?

Probably a detective or a magical creature rehabilitator. 

How often are they home?

Every night?

Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

She likes being at home on her days off. That or out in nature. Wixen like nature.

Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?

She was a fairly decent ballet dancer in her youth. She stopped doing in professionally when she left college and moved on to a more practical career she could see herself maintaining long term. 

What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?

She likes to read and listen to jazz. The rest of this question is dumb. 

Would they enjoy a theme park?

Probably? She likes looking at weird stuff and occasionally likes fair food. 

G. Family and Growing Up

Is your OC close to their family?

Extremely.

Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

Her mother and older brother and step father. Her biological father died when she was young. He was a cool guy and is dearly missed. 

Does your OC find their family supportive? If not, what would be an example why not?

Yeah, sure.

What kind of childhood did your OC have?

A good one. She lost her leg due to her brother’s shenanigans, but other than that and her father passing she was very well loved. (Except for Dave. Fuck that guy. Her mother re-married early on because of grief and Dave was a douuuche.)

Did they go through any typical phases growing up?

No?

Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

Yes.

Do they have any childhood memories they’d rather forget or be less affected by?

Of course. 

H. Romance and Intimacy

What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?

Jasmine is a lesbian. She’s also trans. It’s only ever been a source of stress where Dave was concerned. In Wixen, society generally accepts LGBT due to the monotheistic religions not really taking root and most people are kinda just like. Whatever. There are some people out there with differing opinions, but it is very rare. 

She’s not always been sure of her orientation.

Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

She probably is. Or as much as she can be with the whole magic thing.

Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right?

What.

Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

Not love, no. She falls in love slowly. She can generally gauge if she’s going to be attracted to someone at first sight, though. 

Does your OC believe in marriage (or their culture’s equivalent)?

Sure.

Has your OC ever cheated on anyone or been cheated on?

Yeah, dude.

What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically…)

Honestly Jasmine is attractive to clever women that are independent and sort of not terrible. 

What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

A jazz concert in a foggy club with someone she genuinely cares about. 

What are some things that your OC finds to be an instant turn-off in potential partners?

Probably stabbing her in the hand. *GLARES POINTEDLY AT VIOLET*

I. Food

What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?

She likes rice.

Do they have any eating requirements or preferences? Allergies, vegetarian, organic-only, religious restrictions…

No.

Are they vegan/vegetarian (if their overall culture/species generally aren’t)? If so, why? Do they think animal products are wrong in all circumstances?

No.

How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

Every night.

Are they a good cook?

Pretty average. Caspian is the better cook.

Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

No.

J. Politics, Current Events, Environmental Aspects

Where does your OC stand most politically? What would they align with most?

Honestly I haven’t thought much about the political climate in Wixen. 

How politically aware are they?

It’s likely she’s very politically aware. 

How politically active are they?

Very.

Is your OC the sort to fall for fake news? If not, do they ignore it or make a point to clarify that it’s wrong?

Probably not.

Are they or would they protest for a cause they’re passionate about?

Definitely.

How do they react to people whose political viewpoints are very opposite of theirs?

As long as they aren’t dangerous, she ignores them.

How much interest in environmental health do they have?

The environment is VERY important to caters. Most of their cities are overgrown by plant life. 

In reality-based or applicable worlds, do they believe in global warming? Do they recycle?

L. For the Writer/Owner

How have your characters changed since you created them?

She’s changed a lot - originally she was Yamato from Naruto for an RP. Until eventually this RP became something completely different and turned into this crack RP with Yamato/Kakashi/Kasumi/Oniyuri as wizards. Then it became it’s own story where she was originally named Rowan and was a dude. Now her name is Jasmine and she’s cool. 

Like man she started out as Japanese, then white, now she’s Portuguese/french, but her father was black so that’s a thing.

What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Being the best gay she can be.

Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

Lol no. She’s cooler than I am. 

Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Gross hanging out with people. 

How did you come up with your OC?

Was originally part of a Naruto RP that spiraled out of control. 

[tmnt-imagines]

What could go wrong: Donnie x Reader

WARNING: MILD SWEARING

Requested by: Anonymous

Could u write something about Donnie having an online girl friend for a relatively long time (like long enough to know he's a turtle and Skype him & they've met up b4 and stuff) but she's nervous-scared to meet the rest of his family?

A/N: Sorry it took so long, hope you like it :)

“So, do you guys wear the bandannas all of the time? Or is it like a ‘weekday only’ thing?” You laughed, watching Donatello’s face on the screen distort into a lopsided smile. 

“Ha ha ha.” He said flatly, though clearly amused by your attempt at a joke. 

You two had been in a sort of relationship for nearing 6 months; you’d met in an online gaming server, he’d complimented your skills, or something, after you’d defeated a boss together, and you’d made a comment about how much you’d love to be able to fight like that out of the game; upon hearing of Donnie’s ninja training you hardly stopped talking to him all night, and your love spawned from there. About a few months into the relationship you’d proposed skyping, which at first Donatello had been scared and nervous about, but once the whole turtle thing came out, the pair of you could hardly go a couple of hours without talking via cameras. He wasn’t as self conscious today as he had been at the start, he was aware of his green complexion and disfigured features, and how unattractive he probably was, but after weeks of you convincing him that you thought he was adorable just the way he was, and you loved him despite appearances, he had become far more relaxed in your company. 

Today was like any other, you’d woken up and barely half an hour later you’d grabbed your laptop and begun talking to Donnie. He told you about the patrol he went on last night, and how boring it was to have to listen to Mikey talk about his new video game that he’d completed, and you told him about how seriously uneventful work had been yesterday. You were peacefully content, until Donatello had to spring this on you. 

“Would you - uh - maybe want to - ya know - um - come to the lair - maybe - sometime.” He stumbled over his words like an obstacle course, and began fiddling with his fingers rather than looking at your face on his monitor. He always did this when he was nervous and trying to avoid hearing your answer to whatever innocent question he’d posed, and on most occasions you’d think it was utterly cute, but this was different, and you weren’t entirely sure how to go about replying to it. 

“To, like, meet your brothers?” You inquired slowly, beginning to become a bit nervous. You loved Donnie with all your heart, even if you’d only met him in person a handful of times, and you would do anything for him; but this, this was serious relationship stuff. You weren’t sure you were ready for that.

“Yeah, exactly!” Donatello finally looked up at the screen, with a hopeful smile. Only, he must have sensed your unease as that smile soon fell to a frown. “What’s wrong? Don’t - don’t you want to?” 

“No! No, it’s not that at all! It’s just - they’re your family, and I - I don’t want them to not like me, or something.” You mumbled, feeling stupid saying it aloud. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet the other turtles, all of them sounded brilliant and hilarious, and you were sure nothing would go wrong, but your anxiety of wanting to make a good impression, so that they’d approve of Donnie being with you, made you unsure of meeting them. 

“How could anyone not like you?” Donatello beamed, seemingly relieved that you hadn’t completely rejected the idea like he’d been afraid of. “Honestly sweetheart, there is nothing to worry about. They’ll love you!” 

Why the hell had you agreed to this? You were standing in the sewers, like a complete idiot, fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper and trying to think of any excuse to not have to walk into the lair. Donnie had taken you here once while the others had been out on patrol, or getting pizza with April, and admittedly you loved it. It was such a cool place, even if it was in the sewers, and you would have loved to spend more time here with Donnie if it weren’t for his family. You wanted to make a good impression, and you feared they may not like you - some random human girl Donnie had brought into their lives. What if they thought you would divulge their secret? What if they thought you were too big of a risk? What if they just didn’t like you?

It was all eating away at your stomach, and you became incredibly aware that they were only a few feet away, probably about ready to tell Donnie to break things off between you. If it hadn’t been for Donatello, you probably would have pegged it by now. But he wanted this - he wanted you to meet his family, and be a part of his world, and you wanted to make him happy. And if that meant facing his brothers, and his dad, then you would have to face them sooner or later. 

The lair was spectacular, all bright lights and random knickknacks, which the 4 turtles had accumulated in their years of living down here - it was like something out of a movie. The sound of rattling chains and thumping echoed from above, and you could vaguely recall Donnie mentioning that Raphael is always beating up his boxing bag, if he’s got nothing else to do; so you put the noises down to that being the red clad turtle in the makeshift gym upstairs. You could also hear faint voices, which sounded like it could be the other two brothers arguing over the TV: “but I wanna watch-” “-I don’t care what you wanna watch, Mikey, give me the remote!” The sounded like typical brotherly banter, and you almost smiled thinking about what a close family they seemed to be, even in the midst of a petty argument. 

You stepped forward to find you’d been right, sat on the couch were two of Donnie’s brothers - or rather the blue clad turtle, Leonardo, was sat on the couch and the orange one, Michelangelo, was scrambling around whilst being held under one of Leo’s arms. You laughed aloud at them, and watched both of their blue eyes spring to you, and suddenly the laughing stopped. 

“You must be Y/N!” Mikey sprung from his brother’s capture, and ran over to greet you. He was almost 6 foot tall, and given your short height you had to look up to meet his gaze, “the names Michelangelo - but you can call me Mikey.” He winked with a cheesy grin, and you laughed again. 

“Or you can call him an idiot and ignore him like the rest of us.” Leonardo smirked, and came to stand beside his younger brother. He shoved him out of the way, and looked down at you with a warm smile. “Leo.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” You smile politely, feeling like there is an earthquake taking place in your stomach under the scrutiny of their eyes. Where the bloody hell is Donnie?

“Finally. Donnie’s kept you away long enough,” Sounded the voice of the third brother, Raphael, as he jumped down from a nearby ledge, which led to his gym area.

“That’s Raph - I ignore him too,” Leonardo whispered to you, now standing at your side and watching as the red clad turtle came over as well. 

“Ironic - your the leader yet none of us listen to ya.” Raph snarled with a sly smile and set his green eyes on you. “Donnie’s gone to fetch April and Casey, he should be back in a sec,” 

As if your stomach wasn’t doing enough back flips already, now you’re being told your boyfriend, who invited you to spend the evening with his family, is not even home. You bet he timed that perfectly, and you made a mental note to hit him for it later. 

You’d met April and Casey before, two of Donnie’s human companions. It was nice to have normal people to talk to about the abnormal lives of your boyfriend and his family, and they seemed like nice enough people; it would have been slightly reassuring to know there would be familiar faces around, if they had actually been here, rather than being elsewhere and forcing you to spend god knows how long in the company of three mutant turtles whom you had never before had anything to do with. 

“She’s pretty,” You heard Michelangelo whisper to his older bother behind you, while Leo led you to the couch.

“Shut it, dude, she’s Donnie’s girl,” Raphael shot back quickly, and you could have sworn you heard the sound of his hand slap across the back of Mikey’s head.

“I’m just observing.” Mikey retorted defensively, probably rubbing his now sore head. Leo turned around and mouthed something to them, which you didn’t quite catch but you presumed it was something along the lines of ‘shut up’.

“Told you,” Raphael scoffed quietly, and from the tone of his voice you’d bet he was smirking. 

“Will you two cut it out, you’re embarrassing her!” Leonardo turned around and pushed Raph’s arm in annoyance, trying to keep his voice low enough for you not to hear it, but instead you did and simply giggled to yourself at their behaviour. 

“We ain’t doin’ anythin!” Raphael growled back at his older brother, narrowing his eyes, seemingly oblivious to you watching the three of them go at it. “Least I ain’t.” Raph turned to his orange clad companion.

“What have I done?” Mikey said in shock, “you were the one-”

“Shut up Mikey!” Both Raph and Leo sighed in unison, and made you laugh again. They all turned to face you shamefully, realising all that had just been discussed had been overheard by you.

“I may not be a mutant, but I do have hearing,” You stated with a sheepish grin, and the three turtles chuckled at your comment. 

“I like this one,” Mikey said, not very quickly, to his brothers, and grinned in your direction. 

“Yeah, me too.” Leonardo stated, and came to join you and his brothers on the couch for a game of Halo before Donnie got back.

“I TOTALLY KICKED YOUR ASS!” You screamed, throwing the controller onto the couch and getting up from your seat to celebrate. Leonardo, who’s ass you had kicked along with Mikey’s, was burying his head in his hands dramatically, while you rubbed it in. “HIGH FIVE RAPH! Oh, wait, umm high...three?” You laughed, holding your hand up only to find Raphael was seemingly missing a couple digits. To which him and his brothers erupted into a chorus of laughter.

“What the hell’s happening here?” Donatello asked, shuffling into the lair with a couple of boxes of pizza. “You seem to have made some friends,” He slung an arm over your shoulder, and pulled you close; pecking your forehead affectionately. Boy were you glad to see him. 

Without a second thought, you punched his plastron with an evil smile. “What was that for?” Donnie squealed, though you were sure it hadn’t hurt him at all, only caught him off guard.

“Leaving me alone with them,” You whispered, for no real reason except that it made this conversation feel more intimate, given the others were more distracted by the pizza and the rematch Leonardo was trying to orchestrate. 

“They weren’t that bad, were they?” Donnie chuckled, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“No, but I still felt like hitting you.” You giggled, and stretched up to place a sweet kiss on his lips. Maybe being a part of this family wasn’t anything to be worried about after all.