#she’s a wealthy heiress and a witch

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

}{ Poppy Petals in Whiskey Bottles }{ A Tumble Town western historical fantasy AU }{ Masterpost }{

While all of the scenes posted so far are rated T at most, the AU as a whole will eventually be rated M or E. Current warnings include swearing, alcohol use, and gun violence. Future warnings include mentions of past underage sexual assault and major character death.

file: western au

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Ten-year-old Jimmy has some trouble adjusting to Tumble Town [x] [x]

fWhip and Jimmy admit their attraction to each other [x]

fWhip worries Jimmy's past will interfere with his duties as sheriff [x]

Jimmy meets Scott for the first time [x]

Jimmy goes to Scott for information, and gets more than he expected [x]

fWhip apprehends a particularly theatrical conman in Gobville [x]

Scott is chased down by someone from his past, but Jimmy steps in to help [x]

Scott begins to see the softness hidden inside Jimmy [x]

Sausage is there to catch him when Jimmy falls too far inside a whiskey bottle looking for answers [x]

fWhip puts on the deputy badge one last time, but he didn't expect to fall back into bed with his ex too [x]

Jimmy suspects Scott of unloading stolen goods onto an unsuspecting Katherine [x]

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Spotify playlist [x]

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Cast list under the cut:

Jimmy Solidarity, a former outlaw who turned his life around and became sheriff

Scott Smajor, a smooth talker with a colorful past whose charm and information frequently keep him out of Jimmy's custody

Bryce "fWhip" Conroy, Jimmy's former deputy and ex-lover who owns several successful mines, and Gemma "Gem" Taylor, his wealthy childhood friend who is practically his sister

Ángel "Sausage" Garrido Reyes, a cattle baron with extensive connections and owner of the Sanctuary ranch; Joel Beans, Sausage's business partner and owner of the Stratos ranch, and Joel's wife Lizzie who is the real mastermind behind a lot of the business dealings that happen behind the scenes

Katherine Elizabeth Grayson, heiress to the luxurious Glimmer Grove Hotel living a double life as a bounty hunter; her pretend beau "Pirate Joe" Graceffa, captain of the paddle steamer The Eversea; and Shelby "Shubble" Grace, Katherine's romantic partner and Joey's best friend who can't seem to escape rumors of being a witch

John Pictor "Pix" Riffs, an author and good friend of Katherine who always seems to know more than he should

Oliver Sound, a skilled but unsuccessful performer who is constantly in debt, and his fiancee Eloise Nox

Ryan "Scar" Goodtimes, a former gunslinger who changed his ways and now runs a mercantile

Cleo Burke, a former schoolteacher whose perpetual exhaustion and poor health has led to friends joking that she's actually a reanimated corpse; her partner "Scarlet Pearl" Moon, a vagrant with a poor reputation due to rumors she escaped from a penal colony; and Cleo's ex-husband Martyn Littlewood.

...and more to come!

Have questions? Want more details? Asks are always welcome!

[mangacupcake]

Bridgerton Au- The Ashengrotto Family

The Secret Keepers of the Upperclass

The Ashengrotto family has been rumored to be descended from the great sea witch.

Now they serve as information brokers and help keep the peace of the upper class even working with the worst of the worst to maintain the status quo.

Azul’s mother worked hard in bringing the “family business ” to land and found success bymarrying a wealthy lawyer from the surface.

Since then she’s stepped aside in most matters and let Azul become the head of the family. Who is feared for his wish granting contracts, and his eel bodyguards.

He is also rumored to have a “demon maid” that will get rid of any problem you have for a Hefty sum or a very restrictive contract. What’s unique is that she will take requests regardless of your social status. However that’s just a rumor… or is it?

Azul has a sister, Drusilla Ashengrotto. Who’s has seldom been seen by anyone. She’s coming of age and just in time!

With her secret heiress now known to the public and the all the fortune hunters out there and the up coming social season Lilith Crewel called in a favor.

It was rare sunny day when the carriage arrived at the Crewel Estate. A gathering was quickly arranged and both parties met in the drawing room. Isabella tried not to fidget as Lilith took her hands “ trust me pup.”

The three moved gracefully, “Lady Lilith, my brother expresses his regret in not attending this meeting in person but some business came up in the coral seas that he had to oversee.”

The girl looked no older than herself, but she moved and spoke with all the elegance and grace as her adoptive grandmother. “You must be Isabella. I’m Drusilla Ashengrotto, These two are my families bodyguards. This one on left is Jade leech.”

“Charmed.” Jade placed a chaste kiss on her hand, “the one on lady Drusilla’s right is my twin brother Floyd.”

Instead of a kiss on the hand or a polite bow Floyd opted to pull Isabella in a bone crushing hug, “what a cute lil shrimpy!”

Jade removed him from Isabella with ease “please don’t be offended that’s how Floyd expresses his affections.”

“I know they can be a bit much. But I promise they have nothing but the best of intentions.”

Floyd’s laugh made the hair on Isabella’s neck stand up. Drusilla saw the fear in Isabella’s eyes and took her hands, “ please don’t be scared. I know he’s… a bit much. But he’s means well. We all do. And you’ll find his mannerism charming soon enough.”

“Uh why?”

“I’m sure you know or know of the Ashengrotto family. And I’m sure you’ve heard of the roumors, I’ll spare you of that ridiculous chatter. But to put it simply we’re are both young women from prominent families, the social season is almost here. And it’s better to have a friend.”

Drews smile was warm. “I’m here to be your friend and to potentially find a match as well. Starting today I’ll be moving in and I do hope we’ll be friends. As a start please call me Drew. I’ve only really been called Drusilla in formal situations but I’m fine with either-”

Drew was caught off guard by The little heiress pulling her into a hug “I’m so excited! I can’t wait to show you the dogs. You’ll love Horace and Jasper! Oh no wait I need to show you the rose garden! Oh um, sorry I got excited, um forgive me, Grandmother maybe I show the library, please?’

Lilith chuckled, “your both dismissed. Dearest please make your friend feel at home.’

Once the girls were out of sight Lilith held her cigar out to be lit which Jade generously did with his fire magic “that demon maid lives up to rumors, especially the price. I don’t mind of course. She’s a worthy investment. I know she’ll do a good job.”

Jade hummed “Indeed. What a time Azul’s darling sister coming of age just as your heir is. What a hell of family we all are.”

Lilith knew she’d be gettin an earful from Marcus and her son but when it comes to Isabella she’d do anything to protect that girl. Even chasing in favors with some questionable businessmen…

@adrianasunderworld @marrondrawsalot @heiress-has-retired @the-weirdos-mind @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna

[calicohyde]

Jack Hyde All-Character Tournament: Quarterfinals, Seed 2

Fred Alfaro ("Witch Noir")

Fred is a person of mysterious gender, and a type of clairvoyant witch. Xe runs a private investigation business with xyr little sister Eddie, whom xe functionally raised xemself. Fred is a Scryer, which means xe can commune with crystals by letting them possess xem. When xe does this, the crystals can grow inside xyr body and xe has to physically remove them, resulting in the need for self-surgery if xe overdoes it. Xe are haunted by grief for xyr parents, both of whom have been lost to xem and Eddie in different ways, as well as being damaged by having to take on way too much responsibility to take care of xemself and xyr sister as a young teen. Xe self medicates with cocaine and sex, and a fair amount of minor criminal behavior. Fred keeps all of that from Eddie though, and lets her think xe's totally unaffected by xyr experiences even though it breeds much resentment between them.

Genre: Horror Fantasy Designation: Side Character Quick Facts: Agender AroAce and Autistic, favorite color is purple

VERSUS

Jessica Hase ("Witch Noir")

Jessica is the elegant femme fatale who brings Fred and Eddie Alfaro their first (and last) murder case as private investigators. She is the independently wealthy heiress of a vineyard and wine label. She inherited the estate from her parents, who died under mysterious circumstances the same month she got back home from college abroad. When the police refuse to investigate the murder of her girlfriend Maddie, Jessica won't take no for an answer. She takes the case to Fred and Eddie, though they have to wonder why she chose them, or in fact how she even knows they exist, as Jessica and Maddie are both - as far as they know - secular, not witches like them. They want to turn her away at first, but Jessica seduces Eddie to her cause, convincing her to go against her sibling for the first time in her life and smoothly avoiding her suspicion even when it's revealed that Jessica personally knows the only solid lead for suspect in Maddie's murder.

Genre: Horror Fantasy Designation: Love Interest Quick Facts: Black, trans, plays violin, polyamorous sugar mommy

Quarterfinals Poll Masterpost

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Meet My MC: Lyra Lexington

I'll edit this to make it cuter and more detailed while I play the story but here's what I have so far!

Nicknames: Ly, Little Miss Valedictorian, Doc, Lady, Queen

Born/Raised: Singapore -> New York -> Los Angeles

Books: Ride or Die, Queen B, Nightbound/Bloodbound, The Elementalists as a well-known Historian, and Crimes of Passion I and II (again, I haven't finished all of these books I just thought of this MC on the go)

Face Claim: Alyssa Raghu -> Naomi Scott/shredz55 (Insta)

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Zodiac: Aquarius

Fashion Style: "Girl Next Door" with a hint of Bohemian Chic

Love Interest: Trystan Thorne

Past Relationships: Logan, Colt Kaneko, Professor Ian Kingsley, Nik Ryder, Violet Hale (OC) Past Flirtationships: Mona, Cal, Vera

Education/Major: BA in History at UC Berkeley; MA in Anthropology and Ph.D in Archeology at Harvard University; Magic Training at Pendergast College of Elemental Magicks

Family:

Great Great Great Great Great Grandmother: Desire and Decorum MC Great Great Great Grandmother: The Unexpected Heiress MC Godparents: Adrian Raines and Evelyn "Evie" Rouge Father(s): Lord Elric; Detective Antonio Lexington (FC: TBD) Mother: Lilavati "Lila" Solaris (FC: Nayanthara) Half-Brother: Tialo Maternal Cousin: My Queen B OC/The Elementalists MC Children (Twins): Amber Marguerite Thorne and Alice Nayeli Thorne Pet: Arcane (A Perrikin)

Backstory

Lilavati left her extremely controlling family after leaving for college to major in Economics, where she met Adrian Raines, and the two became close friends (she was already dating Lyra's father and unknowingly pregnant). As far as her family knows, she's a Board Member/Head of Business for Raines Corporation. In actuality, she's a witch who eventually started working as a kind of supernatural diplomat to ensure peace between supernatural beings, which ended up being for the NYC vampire clans. She's under the vampire clans' protection (but she associates most with Adrian since they're the closest). She was extremely happy for Adrian when he met Evie and fell deeply in love with her. After Lyra is born, she asks Adrian and Evie to be her godparents. In my head, Evie shows up at some point during Nightbound in the Priya Lacroix scene and mentions how much Lyra reminded her of her mother (it took Lyra a second to recognize who Evie was because it's been a while but she knew Evie was a familiar figure). Antonio blames Adrian and Evie (and the rest of the BB crew) for his wife's death and ensures they stay away from his daughter by moving to a smaller home in LA.

Fun Facts:

She's a very talented Carnatic singer! Her extended family wanted her to continue but as much as she loves to sing, she didn’t want to pursue it as part of her future

She is fluent in English and Spanish but proficient in Telugu, Malayalam, Tamil, and Dravokian. She learned Spanish from her father and Telugu, Malayalam, and Tamil from her mother. Her parents spoke those languages at home alongside English, but she became less fluent in the languages her mother spoke after she died. And after marrying Trystan, she obviously learned Drakovian

She’s from a wealthy family, or technically her mother was, but she left her old life to have her freedom before Lyra’s older cousins were even born. Lyra herself has an even larger inheritance after her mother died, but her father didn’t feel comfortable using her family money “irresponsibly.” She plans to use that money for her education.

[chaosxkids]

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find kim "rose" jang-mi, the 30 year old vet at Familiar Paws originally from los angeles, ca. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're out-going and sardonic, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something… ― bae suzy, heterosexual, cis woman, and she/her.”

ㅤೀ    - a quick look into current playlist :: please please please by sabrina carpenter ; killin’ me good by jihyo ; hammer to the heart by teddy swims ; tattoo by loreen ; arranca by becky g ; mi ex tenia razon by karol g ; soft spot by keshi ; cosmic by red velvet ; illusion by dua lipa ; late night talking by harry styles ; forget about us by perrie edwards ; lovelove u by kenia os ; changes by lauv ; die for you by the weekend ft ariana grande.

ㅤೀ    - as described by others :: black & white ivory that when played creates beautiful music that transport you; heavy is the crown one wears when surnames mean everything so you run; looks of a pretty docile angel that hide mischievous dark thoughts; always dressed in designer; fake sunflowers in glittery vases, the ability to dazzle those around you & play the role perfectly; twilight is when you come alive, always feeling cold even when everyone around you feels warm; not bothering to take back change after a purchase; buying endless bottles of perfume you know you’ll never use.

STATS

NAME : kim jang-mi

NICKNAME : goes by rose

AGE : thirty

GENDER IDENTITY : cis woman (she/her pronouns)

SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : heterosexual hetero romantic

SPOKEN LANGUAGES : english, korean, latin

OCCUPATION : heiress, vet at Familiar Paws

POSITIVE TRAITS : out-going, empathetic, intelligent

NEGATIVE TRAITS : vain, sardonic, cautious

FACECLAIM : bae suzy

PETS : a grey scottish fold cat named Dior

CONNECTIONS : are here

BIO ;; (neglect mention tw)

Kim Jang-Mi, the daughter and eldest child of the Kim Family who own and run a successful public relations company in Los Angeles. they're known for how well they handle client's scandals and their cutthroat attitude towards the business while keeping their own family life very private. Rose was doted as a child and her mother loved to brag about how adorable she was to all her friends and the public, but behind closed doors was a different story. Sure she was born with a golden spoon in her mouth who got whatever she wanted (music lessons, toys, dance classes, etc.) except what she needed: her parents attention. Of course they went on to have to more children afterwards but nothing changed.

From a young age, it was the nanny and maids who watched, cared, and raised them. Both parents spending all their time to build the company to what it is now known today. But of course if there was a private society event happening where they needed to look like the picture perfect family or parent, Rose and her siblings would appear there at their side with a big smile on their faces.

While yes, she did get to go to the best schools offered where she hoped to thrive in, it wasn’t the case. Many kids made fun of her, whether its because they saw her as a lonely kid who focused on having good grades or for having her nanny show up to school events instead of her own parents.

Things then changed. In the beginning of their teenage years, she had a drastic makeover, and soon, many were trying to be her friend. You see Rose became to show her magical abilities, something her mother was ecstatic about as the Kim family was part of a small circle of other wealthy Witch families. She became popular and loved the attention even though all she did was changer her appearance, an alternate version of herself that she realized many people adored.

During school she discovered a passion for helping animals and made it her goal to become a veterinarian. Though it would be tough, as her life had been planned since the moment she was born and after graduating both highschool and university with honors, and a degree in animal science, her parents begin talk of marriage.

Fast forward to the present: Rose decided to leave her hometown of Los Angeles due to [REDACTED] and moved to Cardinal Hill, WA. She now works as a Veterinarian at Familiar Paws for almost a year now. Some say she's always looking over her shoulder and can be a little guard about her personal life but everyone says it's because she is still new to the area after arriving so abruptly.

TDLR ;; (smoking TW)

The Rose that everyone knows and is just a character she is still playing for almost fifteen years and wonders if the real her is even present. Is afraid of one day waking up and forgetting how to play the role or saying something if she isn’t thinking or in control. Her two main loves are: her cat and potion making. she generally enjoys working as vet as it keeps her busy, sometimes too busy if being realistic that it takes up alot of her time though makes times for her friends.

Personality wise, Rose is your typical rich girl. she is always down to go out for drinks. she drinks too much coffee for her own good and loves to read all genres of books. has many books scattered around her room filled with things about potions, animals, and romance.

She can be vain, maybe it comes with being a rich spoiled kid or the fact that everything has somehow always been in her favor. She knows she is talented and isn’t afraid to mention all the accolades she has had. rose can be very sarcastic and blunt. isn’t one to sugar coat things ( if you’re straight with her, she’ll be the same with you ) and has develop a nasty habit of smoking (says she can quit at anytime).

Ships came natural to her, whether being able to make friends real easy or jumping straight into a relationship with someone. with friends, she’ll be loyal, the one to take care of you when sick, the one you should def call to bail you out of jail or tell it to you straight. though the minute you cross her, its over between you both and you should watch out. with love, she loves the idea of love to a fault, maybe it comes from listening to too many love songs but she loves the chase, the first few months when the fire of passion is high.

[at-sabohteurs]

also. anika is my occult / satanic sorority witch oc from tas' brilliant mind of affiliated oc plot bunnies. she's a #richbitch old money heiress, adopted by a completely normal unassuming if disgustingly wealthy couple unaware of her ancestry, who split her upbringing between private schooling in london and semester breaks in new york city. originally planning on attending NYU she ended up drawn to rookwood instead where she rushed miu alpha gamma, not knowing their true purpose or her connection to them, and to salem, until after she was recruited in her first year. she adapted quickly to their ritualistic practices and discovered an unusually high fascination with death, for which she has an affinity with. she has a pet snake, a piebald ball python, and she is an only child.

[marigoldwriter]

Winx processions in my fanfic:

Bloom — Well, Bloom is the princess of Domino, she would not be the queen in the future, because the eldest is Daphne, and the throne of Domino follows the line of heredity, so she would be princess and adviser to Daphne, in addition to being the Fairy Guardian of Domino, she without much effort already has enough work. In addition to being part of the Company of Light.

Aisha — Her thirty-year plan will work! Pragmatic in her own way, Aisha will indeed manage to become director of Alfea, of course, before that she will become the Guardian Fairy of Andros, and being from an important family, this news will be very good, she will also be part of the Company of Light.

Stella — Being the future queen of Solaria was kind of mandatory, right? But beyond that she will assume a high position in the hierarchy of the Aurumian religion, the position of Popess, the reason? Well, Stella is a Saint (don't take this to a double meaning -_-), more specifically, a direct descendant of the First Saint of Light, which made her a Saint of Light too, the first in a thousand years to exist.

Flora — I thought of her being a Biologist, it would be common, I myself always saw Flora as a Biologist, but after a certain point, I changed that perspective, I would put her as a *Zootechnist*! It makes sense, but anyway, my understanding in my story is that Flora was of great importance in many events, she is not only a zootechnician but she is a member of the Solarian High Council, she would be more of a peace counselor, an intermediary between the realms of Solaria and Lynphea.

Terra — THIS ONE IS A BIOLOGIST!! Anyway, Terra would clearly be a biologist, all the knowledge she shows throughout the series makes this very obvious, the fact that her parents are teachers at the school also helps this, I feel that she would love to study biology at university (even with all the hell of a job she would have), and the profession would kind of be a kind of family tradition, Rose (Terra's mom) was a biologist (in my mind anyway), so Terra would follow in those footsteps.

Tecna — For those who don't know (nobody knows, I didn't tell anyone) Tecna is part of my story! She would appear in the middle of Season Three, her backstory would be one where she is the daughter of a couple of wealthy tech tycoons, so she would basically be an heiress who initially would not be scheming like Stella was in the beginning, she is very modest, talking about a matter of ego, she loves discovering new inventions so her curiosity is very sharp, well, she would inherit the company from her parents, a company that produces the vast majority of technological innovations in the First World, including her company had an agreement with Duke Hammerströng.

Beatrix — In my most holy opinion as an author, Beatrix is a very multitasking character, and as she is my darling, I don't hide that I did give her a certain preference when writing the story, maybe it's a little (or a lot) hypocritical of my part, but I assume. Little by little, Beatrix occupies certain important spaces in the story, first, she discovers that she is the daughter of a witch of a type that is only born every thousand years, in this case, witches of chaos, but so far ok, she is a Daniels, the Daniels family has a certain importance if we are going to analyze it historically, so in addition to being an important witch, she is also from an important family, but anyway, going straight to the point, Bea at the end of this whole Solar Storm situation, she becomes the Queen of Witches, something that was foreseen from the beginning in fact, she also becomes a kind of sacred protector and guardian of monsters and the Dark Dimension. Why? Ask me.

[thestalkerbunny]

Roughly how many humans have more-or-less guessed Princess Dierdre's secret? I'm assuming that they're not going to riot about it because "looks weird" is not "makes us knife fight each other for our grain allotments". I'm guessing that if she dramatically unveiled herself to a crowd, they'd be more surprised than genuinely shocked.

Zero.

Her Curse has been so well hidden and people have been so well payed off to keep it. People make up guesses of some kind of 'unfortunate facial deformity' (and the people more or less are farmers and or war veterns so they can't be too judgey when it comes to missing parts or warped skin or weak attempts at cosmetic repair jobs.) Others cite it's a religious choice-which honestly causes people to get stirred up more than the idea of some kind of monster. Little kids of course believe that she's some kind of monster or witch.

But with the goblins going on and raving about her unquestioning goddess like beauty-and being the only people to see her face and being able to speak of it; the people have to take the goblin's word on it that she is beautiful and hides her beauty less it drives men and women mad.

Fun Fact: I came up with Diedre after seeing a movie called Penelope of a similar premise.

Of a sheltered wealthy heiress under a generational family curse.

[looney-mooney-studio]

Jeremy Johnson and Stacy Hirano from Phineas and Ferb as God Tiered Homestuck Trolls! Classpect analysis under the cut!

Jeremy Johnson is a Witch of Breath. Witches are sponsored by their aspect, the same way a warlock is sponsored by their chosen god. They do not store their aspect within themselves, but rather are given incredible power by their aspect, and are able to manipulate it easily. The cost for this can be dire though, as an aspect will try to hurt their witches. Jade suffered from loneliness, Damara has a long life that is horrifying, and Feferi’s role of Heiress had her marked for death from birth.

But Breath players are easily capable of escaping consequences. Rules don’t really apply to Breath players the same way they do to everyone else, and they tend to drift through life, getting easily and happily sidetracked by whatever new things happen to catch their attention. Tavros ignored the main quest, and was more than happy to go on his million little side quests in his session. John was easily able to escape the boundaries of the game, and was essentially unstoppable.

I gave this role to Jeremy for a couple reasons. A, because it was what was left after assigning everyone else their classpects, but B, because it kind of suits him. Jeremy has his connections, don’t get me wrong - he loves his family dearly, and is deeply in love with Candace. But he DOES have a tendency to drift. He never saw the need to define his relationship with Candace until he saw how it was tearing her apart, at which point he confessed that he sort of already thinks of her as his girlfriend despite never establishing that out loud, and when hanging out with his friends Jeremy seems sort of just aimlessly happy to be there.

Aimlessly happy to be here is probably the best way you could describe Jeremy, actually. My theory is that Jeremy’s attraction to Candace isn’t just because she’s attractive, but because she has so much direction and he has so little. Jeremy is incredibly go with the flow, but it’s nice sometimes to have a such a strong current around to guide you. Jeremy also has a variety of weird hobbies - he juggles, he works at a corn dog stand, he has a bubblegum pop band, he teaches people how to play guitar, he’s a foot model, he even LARPs! Jeremy is a weird little dude!! I love that for him!!!

And he might not seem like much of a witch, but, well. It might just be because he’s a breath player, but things tend to work out for him. He’s good at making the best of a bad situation, at using his freedom in creative ways. Rain on your picnic? Don’t worry, he brought an umbrella. Caught in a flood? Well, hey, this umbrella makes a pretty good boat actually! Squirrels in your pants? Well, look on the bright side, you were a REALLY good dancer just then, it was actually kind of awesome! Which is probably why Candace loves Jeremy so much, too. She’s surrounded by bad circumstances, having someone around to make the best of these bad situations is a really good breath of fresh air.

Stacy, meanwhile, is a Rogue of Light. I tried to draw her in the standard Rogue outfit, but that felt sort of off, so I leaned more into a more traditional Ninjutsu style of dress. (I’m still not entirely happy with it, but it’s a lot better, and the classpect fits.) Anyway, Rogues are those who redistribute their aspect. Think Robin Hood, who stole from the wealthy to give to the poor - a rogue will do the same with whatever their aspect happens to be. Doing so requires lots of planning, and they tend to have a pretty good idea of the bigger picture. Nepeta had an entire wall dedicated to mapping out the relationships between the people in her life, that she updated almost religiously and tried her best to nudge her friends towards healthier relationships.

Light players deal in luck, information, and narrative relevance. All the world’s a stage to a light player, and they want to control the spotlight. They are competitive and driven, dramatic and outgoing, with extremely thorough knowledge of their favorite topics. Stacy might not seem to fit into this archetype at first, but there’s a reason why she’s best friends with Candace - she just seems tame by comparison. Stacy loves the spotlight, is obsessed with fashion and is INCREDIBLY competitive when given any sort of challenge. Have you seen that girl playing video games, or the rivalry she has with her sister? This is a light player through and through. She just likes it when she gets to share her spotlight with Candace.

And what would a rogue of light do, exactly? Well, they could distribute luck. Stacy does a little bit of this, and is able to help Candace win two tickets to see their favorite band, or when she built a shrine to the Mysterious Force to get her friend back. But one of the most obvious uses is to control the flow of information. Stacy is obviously a gossip, and is good at giving Candace the right information in the right moment, but in the late game she becomes sort of like. Danville’s unofficial official secret keeper. She knows about the Mysterious Force. She knows Perry’s secret identity, and about the existence of OWCA. She knows about Monty and Vanessa’s secret relationship, and helps them hide it from Major Monogram. She knows Jeremy LARPs. It’s almost a late running gag, how many secrets she knows and is able to preserve.

Anyway! Jeremy has Light Yellow shoes for his connection to Stacy, and Stacy has Breath Blue shoes for her connection to Jeremy. Their connection to eachother is obviously Candace, but their connections to her are equally important, albeit in completely different ways. And they do end up helping eachother a lot throughout the game itself.

[faneposting-my-beloved]

Vermil Masterpost (for my and your reference)

Full name: Vermil (Vermillion) Irloux

Race: Human

Tags: MYSTIC, OUTLAW

Class: Witch (Scoundrel x Necromancy)

Talents: Ingenious, Thrifty, The Pawn

Origin instrument: Tambura

[TH link]

Who is Vermil Irloux?

Born to a poor fisher couple, Vermil was the youngest child and the only one to survive till adulthood. He spent his childhood getting into places he shouldn't, and making friends with people he ought not to talk with. He was blessed, or rather cursed, with the gift of Source -and he learned this thanks to his childhood sweetheart - Alice. An heiress to a once-powerful Sourcerer lineage that once manned the Abbey in Cloisterwood.

As for Vermil's closest family; he used to have a brother who also was his best friend up to the ripe years of adolescence. They were troublemakers both, wandering unbeaten paths and listening to the stories told by their witch friend. One day Alice told them the tale of Bloodmoon Island. She shared a secret that her family swore to protect and isolate ever since an incident compromised the area to demonic influence. In her tale, she briefly mentioned of a passageway between the ruined cloister and the island in the middle of a lake but warned repeatedly to not even get near.

The boys didn't listen. One fateful day the brothers made a brave trek to the isle of horrors and paid for it dearly.

They were attacked by demons. Panicked, the fleet-footed younger brother turned away and ran. His brother followed but was seized by a monster. Vermil looked over his shoulder...and disappeared into the tunnel, running as fast as he could to the other side. He sealed the entrance, dooming his brother to certain death.

After he returned home, alone, he sold a story of the two being attacked by a savage bear. The grieving parents had no means to rile up the villagers for a revenge hunt, and so they resigned to their son's fate. Alice, however, was not so easily fooled.

Ever since then, Vermil lived in terrible shame. Two years after the incident, he left for Arx, abandoning his more-than-a-best friend.

The big city came to him as a shock, and maybe even for the better because he could throw himself into the mad current of its life right away and bury his sins deep. He wanted to study at Arxian University but found himself unable to afford the tuition. An unexpected benefactor came to his aid face came to his rescue, at a blood price. A wealthy matron fancied the youth, and not only did she offer him to pay for his education, but she took him in. All he had to do to repay this generosity, was a bit of dirty work...and then some. Vermil agreed, how could he not? It was this relationship that got him entangled in the unscrupulous underbelly of Arx, where he stole and killed for his mistress' personal gain. And, ultimately, his gain too. Since then, he got to enjoy living in a bourgeoisie estate with all of his needs and wants taken care of - all for the cost of becoming a noblewoman's lover. But all the alcohol and drudanae couldn't erase his guilt completely.

Vermil tried to do better, letting the studies swallow him whole, and he graduated with honors, only to find himself, for a lack of a better word, jobless and undesirable in the invidious halls of Arx's offices and academia. Naturally, he could ask his mighty patron to intervene, but it was a matter of pride and an attempt to escape dependency. So, he started his own business. In search of something to do, he dug deep into the secrets harboured by the City of the Divine. He delved into the dark arts, getting more in tune with his own Sourcery. Vermil always had an affinity for the perceivable but unseen - thus his illicit business revolved around ghost-summoning for the rich and sentimental. At first, he did so under the keen eye and approving side-grin of his mistress, but in truth, he quietly was putting away funds to finally set himself free of that woman. He owed her a lot, but loyalty was not one of those things. Then she died quickly and suddenly, without his contribution. The bourgeoisie cannibalised the deceased woman's wealth and Vermil ended up homeless and alone. He had made a name for himself, but without an influential patron overhead, it was riskier to do business among the increasing surveillance of the Magisters.

Life went on in the Divine's City, and Vermil continued his existence in the shadows and on the fringes of society, until that one day when a famous songstress ravaged Source-fueled havoc during a performance on Outlook Hill.

It just so happened to be the same exact day when his own hand slipped and the ghosts he summoned broke free to terrorise the peaceful citizens shopping in Merchant's Square.

He was arrested, collared and sent to Fort Joy - but his story is far from over.

Trivia

Vermil's astral sign is the Phoenix

The surname he uses - Irloux - belonged to his deceased patron

His parents had a thing for unusual names - Vermillion is his actual name. His brother was named Exsanguine after being born sickly and weak - he also prefers shortened 'Exsan'

Vermil and Tarquin both studied at Arx University, Tarquin being his senior. Their relationship then was complicated at best.

[storytelling-unlimited]

Prompt by @givethispromptatry here.

I hope you all enjoy this. This whole this is under a cut due to length.

Sasha’s boots splashed through the pothole-ladened pavements of Starmanger Street. These were new boots, scarlet red and short-heeled at the bottom. Getting muddy and dirty by walking through streets they weren’t designed to be seen on. The pinnacle of style for young ladies these days, as the salesclerk had pitched to her mother when she bought them for her. If she were a fussier person, she would have probably been bothered by it. But her only real complaint was that they pinched. In any case, she needed some sturdy shoes for this trek outside, and these were the sturdiest shoes she presently owned.

“This would go fabulously with that red coat of yours,” Mother had told her. The new red coat, gifted by her mother after another shopping spree where she bought too many things. Sasha did not care very much for that coat. It was fragile and thin. A pretty, lacy thing meant to be draped around pretty dresses, not to ward off the cold and the wet. Quite frankly, it was a coat that failed at being a coat. At least if one believed that coats should be worn to ward off the cold. Sasha saw no reason why she should wear something like that if she already had a perfectly functional coat to call her own.

She hugged her coat closer to her body, wishing that she had brought a belt with her. It was her old brown coat, thick with fur and leather layered on top of each other. She had owned that coat for five years at that point. For people of her social standing owning clothes for that long was akin to keeping rotting vegetables in the refrigerator. Yet she simply liked the coat too much to let it go. It was warm and comfortable, plus when she first got it at thirteen it had been just slightly too big for her. As she grew up, she grew into it, and it was currently just a little too small for her. Still, it remains standing. It was durable, reliable, and as non-fungible as a clothing item could be. A perfectly comforting piece of clothing to brave an unfamiliar environment in.

Ah, Starmanger Street. Sasha grew up being told that she should never traverse to this part of the city. Every parent, every teacher, every caretaker in her life. In her thousand-dollar magic enrichment classes, her tutors all told her that Starmanger Street was where the scum of the magic world ended up. Many of her tutors were like her; born to a wealthy background and taught from young within the walls of these elite institutions. In particular, a tutor from her pre-teen years held a particular hatred of the place. And if it was ever brought up, he would go into long, angry rants about why he so despised the place, that miserable street.

His name was Mr Cox. When he was a boy, he had been a star pupil in his magic classes. He had been the son of a wealthy businessman and an heiress to a chain of hotels, and any class on magic was given to him if he had requested it. He took it all, and excelled in them all. But in his mind, he simply had to. “I had to be the good one, because my brother would never be that.”

Mr Edward Cox’s elder brother Martin had been the embodiment of sloth and sloppiness, he had told the class. While Mr Edward Cox would bring home the best grades for his class, always appearing in ‘student of the year’ pictures with a pressed suit and a sensible haircut, Martin Cox did the opposite. He skipped classes, dressed haphazardly, and never bothered to properly groom himself. He was a tall, lanky, hairy man who hardly bathed and didn’t work. And he, like his brother, had dreams of becoming a magician. 

There were many paths a magician could take. One could become a wizard, a witch, an alchemist, a paladin. If one really wanted to reach for the stars, one would try to become a sorcerer. There were also the all-purpose magicians, folks who were not really any one particular type of magician. A common joke among magicians was that these folks were either experimental eccentrics, or lazy bums who couldn’t succeed in much of anything. With his dreams to become a sorcerer, Edward Cox saw himself to be miles away from where his brother stood. Martin was stupid and lazy, and hardly cared for anything in the world. His family had quietly disowned him, and he sank down from his life of luxury and privilege into the depths of Starmanger Street.

Edward Cox ultimately never became a sorcerer. But he ranked high enough as a wizard to teach at one of the very institutions he was once an alumnus of. Every year, youths who were once just like he was came into the school. And every year, he made it his duty to turn them into brilliant young magicians who took a path like he did. His brother had been a failure of a magician and an embarrassment to magic, and every year, he told his students his brother’s story in the hopes that no one would ever turn out like him.

“You must all remember: the only true way to become a magician is to work hard. Creativity, talent, experimentation. These are all fine tools to have in your arsenal, but ultimately, you need to study hard in school. You are all a brilliant batch, bright and talented enough to attend these schools. Don’t waste this chance and become some layabout failure.” They all said that, all the teachers. Magic was a brilliant art, and the way one excelled at it was to work hard and study it. At times, they hardly had the opportunity to try out any magic in the classes, because the teachers were all so focused on making sure the kids were excelling in their book-learning. 

“But what about Jo Granter?” Sasha had asked one time. She had been thirteen. An avid reader outside of school. And among the many heroes of modern magic that she learned of from her own reading, Jo Granter stood out in the crowd to her.

Jo Granter was among one of the most famous self-taught magicians. Born to a poor family, she had spent her days studying as much magic as she could. She used to check out every book on magic she could find in the library. She took community classes on basic magic as a young adult. She went out on the road to showcase all her brilliant performances. She studied to become a nurse, and then later made a career change to become a social worker. Using that experience, she ended up creating her own form of magic. It’s a relatively new branch, but people have started calling her the mother of Fairy Godparents. The most impressive thing about her was how she had become the person she is, and from such humble beginnings too.

This was the point where her teachers would explain, “yes, yes, she was a rather brilliant person. But alas, not everyone has the unique talent she has.” Jo Granter was an aberration. An oddity. A one in a million billion trillion occurrence. “If magic were so easy to learn, surely everyone would be able to do it. But it is not, and not everybody can. Which is exactly why these schools were set up. Now children like you can learn about magic, and you can learn about it properly.”

Classes consisted mostly of book learning. Learning theories of magic, magic history, learning about the different fields of magic and what one can learn from each one of them. Sasha’s parents, like many parents of the children attending these schools, invested a lot of money into getting her the best possible equipment for her classes. The most high-quality cauldron, the newest model of wand, special notebooks with gems and ancient sigils and eyes on the cover. But tragically they often sat unused in the bags and lockers of their children. Only occasionally, if the teachers felt like the children had appropriately grasped the concepts of magic, would they be asked to take out their wands and their cauldrons. Finally, the drawing chalk and the potion ingredients would be taken out of the supply closet. Then, and only those few times, did they actually play around with magic in school.

It was a risk being out here. A real risk, and in her heart of hearts Sasha could feel panic squirming around, like a snake in a sealed box desperate to break free. But she had to swallow her fear. Swallow it down tightly. Bravery was a rough mountain to scale, but Sasha brought her boots and her ice picks, and she will not let go of this will she had. This will to go out, this will to head into the unknown, she simply couldn’t let go of that.

*****

Sasha was about seven years old when she decided that she wanted to be a magician. Prior to that point, the things she cared most about in life were owning more toys, eating more sweets, and getting the attention of her ever-working, ever-busy parents. They were always so busy. And when they weren’t busy they were dressed up and going out to parties. When they weren’t doing that, they were throwing parties at home. During these times, they would tell Sasha to be a good girl, stay in her room, and play with her toys quietly.

Sasha had, as far as she knew, always been a ‘good girl’. Obedient and polite, nice to her parents, and she would never go out of her way to be mischievous towards anyone. Her father and mother attributed it to the strict upbringing she had. Though they were simply too busy to really stay around and look after her for long, they found the best nannies, maids and babysitters to care for her in their stead. These caretakers were stern in their approach to children. Many abided by the idea that children should be seen, and not heard. Sasha could not remember much of the earliest parts of her childhood. But she remembered the feeling of fear found its way into her psyche quickly. If an adult in her life told her to not do something, you can bet that she wouldn’t do it. It always used to freak her out whenever she saw other children engaging in mischief and mayhem, following their own whims. They would march on without fear, into off-limit rooms and out of bounds locations, off to do some forbidden action that the adults specifically told them not to do. Sasha would stand back, worried about what sort of trouble they may get themselves into. Fear of punishment was such a core part of her being. How could she dare step out of line?

This was, of course, the ideal sort of child to the adults in her life. Finally, a child who actually listened to them. When she was older, she started getting rewards for such behaviour. When the week had finished, and her parents were not busy at work, they would bring her out to formal occasions as a treat. Fancy dinners, theatre performances, ballets and operas. There Sasha would sit, dressed in her pretty, frilly dresses. Sometimes one of the nannies or maids would tie up her hair all cute, with ribbons and hairclips. And when she went out with her parents, she would be the most well-behaved child anyone had ever seen.

“How polite, how charming,” her parents bumped into acquaintances often while out and about. They dawned over her silence and her seeming lack of want or need. Their nieces, their nephews, their own grandchildren and children. They could never be like her. “So well-behaved,” they would say. Sasha would smile, and after being promoted enough times, she would remember to thank them.

She could convince the world of her good manners simply by keeping quiet and staying still. No one ever yelled at a child who was still. No one could get such a child into any sort of trouble. Yes, if she wanted to stay out of harm's way, it was best to pretend that she did not exist at all. And to so many adults in her life, that sort of child was an acceptable one. The most acceptable sort of child. Finally, a worthy accessory to take out. Finally, an obedient child.

And then there was one day. They took her out to see a magic show unlike any other magic show she had seen before. Her prior experiences with magic were mostly stage magicians. Hucksters who performed cheap tricks out of an instruction manual to entertain children for birthday parties and holiday dinners. But this magic show, now that was different. 

They got actual magicians to perform. Brilliant figures, in elaborate costumes and with prowess and skill beyond anything she’d ever seen. The music was loud, so that it could fill up the entire amphitheatre. And the music combined with their movements, performing what seemed like dances after dances with magic. Showing off their skills and talents with such rhythm and grace. The loudness and flash, the sights and the sound and the feeling, they all melted together into a pounding sensation that she could feel in the very depths of her heart. Once she saw the show, with its stunning music and magic and lights and beauty, something deep within her broke free from a cage she had no idea was locked. Inside, Sasha was never quite the same again.

*****

Sasha swore that someday, once she truly had the freedom to choose out her own clothes, she should refurbish her entire wardrobe. Choose clothes which were much more practical than what she currently owned. Most of her clothes had been designed for the purpose of looking pretty, which was fine on its own. But if she truly wanted to excel at magic, she figured she needed to go out and experience more things. She needed to scout and hike, to travel and search. To scour dusty, ancient libraries and look for old teachers who no longer left their homes. In order to experience more out there, she had to dress to prepare. Which meant less lacy dresses and more practical clothing.

Even with the most practical clothes in her wardrobe, Sasha still felt out of her element. Starmanger Street was an incredibly wet place. It looked wet, felt wet, and now it was beginning to smell wet. It was about to rain again, she knew. Maybe she should have brought an umbrella, or one of her waterproof ponchos. 

Sasha walked around the neighbourhood, absorbing the sights and sounds like a sponge. Starmanger Street, the home of the struggling magician. Most folks who lived here were probably out working at this time. Working as cleaners, cashiers, service staff. Making themselves valuable to people who were of her class. Sasha looked into her coat, where she had stashed away her weekly allowance. It was probably more than most people here made in a month. And she hoped that money could help someone out here. Heaven knows, anyone living out here probably needed the money more than she did.

But first, she had to find someone who was willing to teach her anything.

Sasha was familiar with the code of magicians. Not capital M Magicians, like what she had been trained to be her whole life. Capital M Magicians were all star and glamour. Everyone knew what such a magician was like, and they were always granted the best for anything. They didn’t need special codes to talk about anything. Not when everything was already special and laid out for them already. 

True magic - the type of magic she read about - was something special. Real magic, beautiful magic, divine magic. The type of magic Sasha dreamed of doing. Now, that required codes. Not everyone wished for that type of magic to exist. Why would they? Such magic only disrupts and disturbs the status quo. Many people, mostly the rich and powerful, would do anything they could to squash that kind of magic. This type of magic was a revolutionary act. To create, to think, to conjure up something into existence. Magic at its purest state was egalitarian, a true equaliser where no one had to be one thing for long, and anyone could seek out the power if they so desired. Institutions and societal structures ended up transforming magic into something else entirely. A way of ranking up and retreading old roads under the guise of innovation. But… real magic still existed somewhere. And it was dangerous. And it was cutting-edge. And still very few wanted anything to do with it.

More than anything, Sasha wanted to try her hand at that mythical real magic. Have a taste of it, brush her fingertips with that world. If only because a life where she did not even try would be a life that fizzles into waste.

The streets were empty, but hopefully folks would start to return home soon. Sasha consulted her watch, and by right, it should be quitting time. She was well aware of how many residents here had to end up working overtime, for a number of reasons, most of them terrible. But… maybe she could find someone. Someone soon. Ideally before anyone found out that she was missing. Most of the staff at home stopped paying attention to her once she was old enough to lock herself up in her room and refuse to interact with anybody. And that day she knew her parents had an important wedding dinner to attend in the evening. Some daughter of a politician marrying one of the finest young millionaires in the city. He had gotten rich off of starting up his own business; a company which shipped groceries to other people around the city. Her parents subscribed to such a service. As she walked through the cramped apartment complexes, grey and decrepit thanks more to neglect rather than age, she spotted a couple of homes which had the iconic orange uniforms hanging out to dry with the rest of the laundry.

She wandered about a bit, tapping on doors she hoped had someone in them. Oh, how tired were her feet, how she hoped to sit down somewhere and rest for a bit. Ideally with a cup of tea, chatting with a witch on her future magic education discussing the topic of payment (which would be no issue for her). Surely there had to be someone around here who was still at home. Sasha mourned the lack of chimney’s in this block of buildings. Historically speaking, witches had always inhabited little cottages. There, people could always see whether or not a witch was in. Smoke piping out of the chimney in big, grey puffs. The clearest sign in the world that someone was in.

As it was, she walked around carefully. Skipping over litter, potholes, puddles and pieces of dog shit that no one bothered to pick up. Keeping eyes, ears, and nose open for any signs of an inhabitant.

And as it turned out, she could hear the faint sounds of a radio playing somewhere in the immediate area.

Sasha turned quickly, towards the direction of the radio. A pop song that was way overplayed grew louder and louder as she walked. Every other noise, from the nearby traffic to the loud calls of crows, faded away into the background. She could feel it. Someone she could talk to about her continued education. Practically everyone in this neighbourhood was some flavour of magician. Even if she herself wasn’t, or was unwilling to teach her for whatever reason, surely she could still at least point her to another willing teacher.

The noise seemed to be at its loudest at block 13B. A small house, like all houses in this neighbourhood. With miscellaneous items all strewn around the minimal yard the home came with. All sorts of strange knick knacks and tchotchkes. Peculiar wind chimes and ugly garden gnomes. A colourful knitted net, there to always catch the direction the wind blew in. Several pots full of strange plants. A few old shoes filled with dirt containing fresh saplings. A dirty little elephant-shaped watering can in the corner. The strong smell of… something. A whole bunch of different things, if Sasha were to try and place her finger on it. Spices and tea and perfume and something delicious baking in an oven. This was the smell of heaviness, homeliness. This was the smell of a witch’s house. 

Sasha walked up the steps leading to the door eagerly. When she spotted no doorbell, she lightly rapped on the door once, twice, three times. And then waited, waited. No response. She knocked again, a little harder this time. Surely someone would hear something this time.

A rustling of keys, the metallic sound of unlocking. And then the door swung open. Out of instinct, Sasha reverted into the state and mindset of a beauty. She smiled, dusted her coat off subconsciously, and stood up straight and tall. This was how she had been trained to present herself to other people all her life. And she was glad she extended that courtesy to the witch in front of her. 

The witch in front of her looked vastly different from most people in her life. When Sasha met other people in their homes, typically they would be dolled up. They only ever let in guests for socials and parties, so they were always dressed up for these events. Looking neat and tidy, prim and proper. Surrounded by cosmetics and luxuries. They seemed like the type of people who should be put away in glass enclosures. Where they could stay in their pristine state forever, untouched by human hands. Comparing the witch in front of her would feel like comparing a thousand dollar gown to a cheap megamart dress.

Yet, she had to admit, there was something about her that was majestic in its own way. An energy about her which commanded respect and attention. A pride that was palpable. An air that was awesome. She seemed to dress in a cheap mashup of items. Colourful makeup bought at a corner shop somewhere. That heavy blue shade of eyeshadow and dark purple folks associated more with costume makeup than anything one would wear day-to-day. A practical black dress which looked like it could take any number of spills, accidents, and washes. Rubber sandals which were probably slipped on because the witch was too tired to wear any other type of shoe. An assortment of plastic bangles and chunky earrings and arts and craft project necklaces hung from her like Christmas ornaments on a fir tree. The witch’s skin was as pink and blotchy as a peach and her long hair was as dark and greasy as an oil spill. She was the most magnificent person Sasha had ever laid eyes on.

“Yeah?” She asked, hands on her hips. “What do you want?”

“Are you a witch?” Asked Sasha, excited to try out this code. The code of magicians was written about all the time. In books, in zines, the books and zines no one else reads. She borrowed as many as she could out of the library, and spent hours holed away within the building reading reference-only.

“Why?” Asked the witch. Sasha noted the quirk in her brow. The relaxing of her features. As if she wanted to know where this conversation was going.

“I want to be a frog,” recited Sasha from memory. 

The witch sighed. “I’m not that kind of witch.” She stepped aside, gesturing Sasha towards a messy living room. “Why don’t you come in and sit for a bit. Lucky for you, I made brownies today.”

Sasha joyfully stepped in, glad to finally be able to get off her feet. Inside, the witch’s house was a real mess. Every surface seemed to be covered with some sort of clutter. Dolls, books, arts and crafts projects, toys, crystals, flowers, and even a skull could be spotted all around her. The room had no coherent theme. The striking purple of the sofa clashed with the green-yellow curtains, which in turn clashed with the bright orange rug and the tablecloth on the coffee table. On one part of the sofa, a pile of wool and some knitting needles lay abandoned, frozen halfway through a craft project of some sort. A small furry thing squirmed its way out from under the coffee table. It was a black cat. As it looked up, it gazed lazily up at Sasha, and then proceeded to pay her no mind.

The sound of the radio continued to echo through the room. If Sasha looked carefully, she knew she could probably find where it was hidden among this vast collection of things. Like some sort of find-the-item puzzle game. The ones she saw at the bookshops all the time growing up.

The witch left for the kitchen when Sasha walked in. When she walked out again, she held a tray with a plate of brownies, a snowman-shaped tea kettle, and two mismatched coffee mugs. “I hope you don’t mind chamomile,” she told her. “It’s the only sort of tea I’ve got left. I’ll need to go grocery shopping soon.” She chuckled, seeming to be a little more at ease than she had been when Sasha first knocked. 

“It’s really no problem,” said Sasha. The witch placed the tray down on the only empty spot left on the coffee table (which was mostly filled with papers, books, painted rocks functioning as paperweights, and a plastic toy horse), and there, Sasha faced a brief conundrum. 

Was it polite to accept a meal from the witch? Those brownies did look good. All oozing chocolate, smelling sweet. But was it right for her to eat something like this? When she had so much and the witch, being a resident here, was so much poorer? What was the protocol here? She tried to remember.

And then the witch grinned that cheerful little grin of hers, and tilted her head. “Well, you don’t have to wait. Come on and tuck in!” And as if commanded, Sasha reached out from a brownie, and sank her teeth into it. A chocolatey burst of flavour filled her mouth, warmth oozing in like lava into a mountain’s crevice. It was one of the best things she had ever tasted. After finishing off that one, she could not help but reach for another one. 

“So,” began the witch, smiling. “Let’s introduce ourselves first. My name is Angela Angleton. But you can really call me anything. Angela, Angie, Angel, all fine. How would you like for me to address you?”

Sasha looked up from her consumption of brownies, and licked the corners of her lips clean. In any other setting, she probably would have been embarrassed to do such a thing in front of company. Yet in front of Angela. Such behaviour seemed right and natural somehow. “My name’s Sasha,” she introduced.

“As in, Sasha St Clair?” Asked Angela, a wink in her eyes.

Sasha nearly choked on the brownie in her mouth. “Well, now I’ve got to know: how did you do that?” She had heard real witchcraft could make a person extremely powerful, able to do the most mysterious things. Surely this could be a start in learning the secrets of the craft.

Angela smiled. “It’s simple really. I’ve seen you occasionally on the news.” She poured the tea out carefully into the mugs. “Your hair’s a very distinctive shade of blonde. As long as someone pays enough attention, I think they could figure out that it was you.”

Sasha paused in her place, before clumsily reaching out for a mug of tea. “Oh… so, that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Angela smiled and nodded. “Much of witchcraft really is just observing what’s there. Noting and reading and looking and seeing what’s there, and then storing away that information until it’s become useful.”

Sasha nodded, storing away that information into her mind, to be used sometimes later. 

“But I do wonder,” said Angela, blowing on her own mug of tea to cool it down. “Why would someone like you come all the way out here to get a teacher? I would assume that someone of your standing could very easily get a teacher. Any sort. The most accomplished, successful magicians in the land. Why go out here to find someone, using old magician’s code of all things too?”

Sasha took a sip of the tea. It had this burnt sort of flavour. The water was almost definitely way above the recommended temperature for brewing this sort of tea. Yet she couldn’t help but find that the flavour was just right. The poorly made tea was the worst tea she’d ever had in her life, yet drinking it probably was a sign that she was having more fun and doing something more interesting, than she would have done if she had stayed home and had her perfectly prepared afternoon tea. 

“Well…” she began, fingers curled tightly around the mug. It was some sort of souvenir from a trip to some place. Showing a picture of what looked like an important landmark of some sort. But what exactly the landmark was, she couldn’t tell. From young, Sasha had been terrible with geography. Her mind had always been better equipped to comprehend what could be, rather than what was, she thought.

“Yes?” Prompted Angela. She smiled patiently, but her bouncing leg said eager, curious anticipation at her answer.

“I think… I wanted to learn some real magic,” answered Sasha. And once she said that, suddenly all the words started to fall out. “Growing up I always felt like the type of magic I learned was somewhat off. We barely got to actually practise it, and so much focus was on memorising what came before us. When we actually got to try out magic for ourselves, so much of it was just simple spells. The basic stuff. Anyone could learn it by copying a video of a magician over and over again.

“But I want to do more, is the thing. I wanted to be like these magicians I see on stage. These cool innovators, who are always pushing magic in new directions. I see them up on stage, and their skill and their talents and their conviction and their passion… it’s all palpable.” She took another bitter, burned sip of her tea. “I want that sort of passion. I want people to be able to feel it out of my own magic.”

“And you can’t find that with your current training,” said Angela. Sasha nodded. “It’s all such clean magic. Everything I could learn was so polished and perfected, it felt like that was nothing I could do to innovate or push it.”

Angela quietly placed her mug back on the tray. It was only now that Sasha realised that she didn’t seem to own any coasters. 

“Well, that is a good explanation. Tale as old as long as magic has had a hierarchy.” Angela reached for one of her own brownies, and took a big bite out of it. “Though in the past it was always the poorer kids coming to the folks with money to get some training or funding.”

“Speaking of money,” said Sasha. She reached into her coat pockets and grabbed a wad of cash. As she did, she realised that she hadn’t taken her coat off yet. Was it impolite? Angela didn’t appear to mind very much if it was. “If we are going to do this, how much should I pay you?”

Angela smirked. “How much do you have?”

Sasha pulled out a fistful of hundred dollar bills. Angela’s eyes widened. “Is this enough?”

Angela picked up her dropping jaw before it could sag all the way down. “I can’t possibly accept this.” She shook her head. “Not all of this.”

“Surely you could make use of this money somehow, though,” said Sasha. “Please. You’ve already agreed to teach me magic - real magic. That’s been my biggest dream ever since I was a little girl. I need to be able to pay you back somehow.”

Angela looked at her, considering her like a mother deciding what to cook for dinner. It was one of the tensest moments of Sasha’s life. The hope of a new sort of life, the hope that she could possibly do something interesting and fantastic with it. That hope starts here. Going out here had already been a risk. Travelling on the train and the bus for the first time, navigating the winding streets of the city, Being on her guard to avoid getting mugged or worse by anyone who may recognise her. All of it made her realise how unequipped she had been for living regularly. She could not leave empty-handed. The trip absolutely cannot go to waste.

Angela appeared to reach out for the money, but then she gripped Sasha’s hand tightly. “Tell you what,” she began, “why don’t we make a deal?”

Sasha could only nod. In witchcraft, a deal could mean any number of things. They would always be a risk, but some risks simply had to be taken. That was the first lesson any magician worth their salt learned. A lesson that could not be taught, but would eventually be picked up.

“How much money do you get as an allowance every month?” She asked.

Sasha had wanted to ask how she knew that was her allowance money. But upon thinking about it, realised it would be obvious to anyone who thought a little. “About… five hundred a week. So it should be two thousand dollars every month.” “Right then. Tell you what. Every month, I give you an assignment. You go out and get something for a family living in this neck of the woods. Anything they may need. School supplies, birthday cake mix, new clothes, something. I’ll tell you what they need at the end of the month, and then you come and visit me and hand me the items you’ve gathered. I’ll be specific about some of them if needed. Some things folks need here are different from the grand, gourmet stuff you’re used to. But I’ll try not to be too specific. 

“While doing this, you also cannot let anyone know that this is what you’ve been spending your money on. Not a soul can be told, not unless you’re positive that they’d also be willing to help you in this endeavour. Every month, I’ll make sure that you only spend about five hundred dollars, so you still get to keep a thousand five hundred for yourself. If you want to meet these families, let me know and I’ll figure something out. But as much as possible, I encourage you to stay anonymous about doing this.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. For a minute, she found herself clinging onto her dollar bills tighter. As if afraid that they may disappear into thin air. She paused, unsure of what to say. 

“Well, do you have any objections to this deal? You can always back out,” said Angela. In a tone of voice which meant what she said.

Sasha looked up, then looked around the room. The place was messy, filled with the traces of life, lived-in in a way so unlike her own upbringing. Her own childhood was filled with sterility. Picture perfect minimal homes filled with the latest furniture and the dullest colour. With any belongings thrown out the minute something goes out of style. They were all beautiful rooms. Living rooms and bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens which belonged on the cover of magazines. They were meticulously upkept. Armies of cleaners and maids and cooks worked behind the scenes, making sure that nothing fell out of place. Not a spot of dust could be perceived, lest someone gets fired that day. Sasha’s toys and dolls were kept strictly to one playroom as a child. Both as a testament to their wealth; how grand it was that their only child had a beautiful room all for herself simply to play with her mountains of toys. But also so that her mess - all those dolls and books and stuffed animals and balls and crayons and plastic instruments - did not leave their containment and contaminate the stylishness of the rest of their perfectly curated house. 

This room was filled with toys. Arts and craft projects, books, dust, crumbs, spills, scribbles, clothes, mess. Half the furniture was outdated from different decades. Foraged from yard sales and thrift stores here and there. Interior design magazines be damned, they could not afford better furniture. No doubt, this was a place that was absolutely brimming with life. It was impossible to push the human out of your mind in such a room. The signs of life were just too strong. You simply could not look away.

She thought of the money in her pocket. What would she spend it on? Perhaps watch a show? But there were only so many movies and performances going on in a month, and there was no way she could attend them all. Let alone if she had any interest at all. She could buy some food. But, she already ate plenty already, and she always had a ton of money leftover anyways. Why eat more than she could chew? What good would that even do anyone? She could buy more things for herself. Clothes, or books on magic. But what good would they be? She had whole wardrobes filled with clothes already. Most of them haven’t even been worn by her yet. Sure, she wanted to refurbish her wardrobe, but only once she could move out, and no one could press her on why she started dressing like the lead to an adventure story. And books on magic sounded enticing, yet wouldn’t learning magic with a teacher be better? Better than simply reading another book and memorising the facts given to her. That brought her mentally back to the deal. She looked up, up at a patient Angela awaiting her response.

“You know what?” Sasha placed the cash on the table. “I’ll accept the deal.”

Angela smiled, and patted Sasha triumphantly on the shoulder. “I’m happy that you’ve taken it up.”

“But now that that’s done, I simply have to ask,” said Sasha, as she realised she had not brought this up once her whole time here. (Why? What magic possessed her that she didn’t even bother bringing it up?) “When can I start learning from you? Where do I report?”

And at that question, Angela merely smiled and patted her on the shoulder again. “You’ve already begun. Go where you’re next needed to continue on to your next lesson.”

[ao3feed-harleyquinn]

Down With The World

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/g0z9pZ8 by BitchIEatPeople Alecto Eris Fowle-Shimura, Daughter of the ex-villain Shigaraki Tomura, heiress to Fowle Enterprises, and proud student of the H.I.V.E Academy for Villains, had everything; loving and supportive parents, a caring extended family of ex-villains, the two best friends anyone could have asked for, a strong meta ability, and to top it all off, she was from a wealthy, magically-powerful bloodline blessed by a goddess. She was ready to take the world by storm... that was, as soon as she figured out exactly HOW she wanted to do that. Fortunately, the chance to figure that out was practically gift-wrapped to her; the Headmistress of H.I.V.E Academy suddenly disappeared, and was replaced by the sinister and untrustworthy Brother Blood. Wanting to save her school from Blood's clutches, Alecto and her two friends, Zachary Zatara and Jinx, set out to find their headmistress and put a stop to the man's plans, sending them down a path that intersected with the likes of the Justice League and the Light. A path that was neither hero nor villain. They were the Knights of Coventry. Words: 12276, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), Young Justice (Cartoon), Justice League Dark (2017), DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Batman: Assault On Arkham, Constantine: City of Demons (Cartoon), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Multi Characters: Kurogiri (My Hero Academia), Bubaigawara Jin | Twice, Toga Himiko, Sako Atsuhiro | Mr. Compress, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Iguchi Shuuichi | Spinner, Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Floyd Lawton, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, John Constantine, Killer Croc, Anthony Ivo, League of Villains (My Hero Academia), The League of Shadows, Hecate (DCU), Clone Roy Harper | Will Harper, Jason Todd, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Jade Nguyen, Teekl (DCU) Relationships: Zachary Zatara/Original Female Character(s), Jinx (DCU)/Original Female Character(s), Klarion (DCU)/Original Female Character(s), Damian Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Cameron Mahkent/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Roy Harper/Jade Nguyen/Jason Todd, Shigaraki Tomura | Tenko Shimura/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - DCU Fusion, Out of Character, Canon Is A Sandbox And I Am Holding The Plastic Shovel, Reverse Harem, Polyandry, Robins Are Child Soldiers Fight Me On This, Happy Murder Family, League of Villains as Family (My Hero Academia), Male Jinx (DCU), Hijinks & Shenanigans, John Constantine is a Mess, Mamagiri, Sensei | All For One Being an Asshole, Damian Wayne is Not Robin, Jason Todd and Damian Wayne Meet in the League of Assassins, Jason Todd and Damian Wayne are Siblings, Good Person Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul is Jason Todd's Parent, Talia al Ghul is Not a Rapist, at least in this story, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne is Like a Disney Princess, Inappropriate Use Of The Lazarus Pits, Someone Tell Damian To Stop Using Them To Bring Back His Dead Pets, Hellsing Abridged references, Shigaraki 'Nope's To Another World With The LOV And Marries A Hot Witch Mommy Who He Has A Kid With, Safe To Say This Story Is Weird, Crack, Batman is an asshole, Alfred Pennyworth is So Done, Absolute Fucking Chaos, Tim Drake is Robin (DCU), Feral Behavior, Fluff and Crack, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/g0z9pZ8

[calicohyde]

Jack Hyde All-Character Tournament: Round 2, Seed 4

Jordan Adam (Any Publicity Is Good Publicity)

Jordan is the no-nonsense, unflappable drummer of the punk band ION. ION is a duo: Jordan and his brother Asher. Jo is the younger brother, and therefore of course the taller and generally better. He's the type of musician who dresses like a normie, so when you see him roll up his sleeves and sit at the percussion set-up at the punk and metal show you know you're about to get your head blasted off. He doesn't talk a lot, but when he does it's to deliver the most devastating one-liner you've ever heard. He's dating the girl his brother made a childhood marriage pact with, and also her girlfriend.

Genre: Romantic Comedy Designation: Side Character Quick Facts: Chronically ill, vegetarian, brunet, tattoos & piercings

VERSUS

Jessica Hase ("Witch Noir")

Jessica is the elegant femme fatale who brings Fred and Eddie Alfaro their first (and last) murder case as private investigators. She is the independently wealthy heiress of a vineyard and wine label. She inherited the estate from her parents, who died under mysterious circumstances the same month she got back home from college abroad. When the police refuse to investigate the murder of her girlfriend Maddie, Jessica won't take no for an answer. She takes the case to Fred and Eddie, though they have to wonder why she chose them, or in fact how she even knows they exist, as Jessica and Maddie are both - as far as they know - secular, not witches like them. They want to turn her away at first, but Jessica seduces Eddie to her cause, convincing her to go against her sibling for the first time in her life and smoothly avoiding her suspicion even when it's revealed that Jessica personally knows the only solid lead for suspect in Maddie's murder.

Genre: Horror Fantasy Designation: Love Interest Quick Facts: Black, trans, plays violin, polyamorous sugar mommy

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Eridani Jigna Maheswari AGE & BIRTH DATE. 28 & July 13th, 2996 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Cisfemale & She/Her NATIONALITY. Sinarian SPECIES. Witch FACTION. College of Bards & Tower of Olympia & Nightingales OCCUPATION. Agent of Minerva FACE CLAIM. Naomi Scott

biography

( tw: Death during childbirth, stillbirth )

Andromeda had grown up wealthy, fed by silver spoon in the lands of Sinaria before she met a humble merchant trying to make ends meet. Jayesh Maheswari swooped the young heiress off her feet and they were quick to marry against the wishes of their families. Andie’s mother didn’t approve, of course. This was a simple, nomadic man with little to his name and Andromeda was heir to one of the wealthiest empires of Taravell. But Andie cared little for the money, shunning away her family in the process for their disapproval. Eridani grew up only with the words and teachings of her two parents, her simplistic witch of a father and a witch mother who adored a life of travel and humble adventure. Nothing could quite daunt the couple, not the wars of Astoria and Lysara that they passed through, not the feywilds of the Silverlands nor even the darkness of the Veilcrest where you could hear the song of wyverns. If her parents weren’t afraid, neither was Eridani. Andie’s family ceased making attempts at contact and the once-heiress was happy to live and raise a daughter with what her husband earned as a traveling merchant. But when she became pregnant again, 9 years after Eridani’s birth, a moment that should have been of joy quickly became a moment of grief. Eri’s mother died in the throes of childbirth and her baby sister arrived stillborn; a hopeful family of four became a grieving family of two.

17 and bright-eyed, brimming with potential, Eri’s father couldn’t bear the thought that his only living daughter might never have the opportunities that her mother did. Jayesh sold a piece of his late wife’s jewelry and pushed his daughter into entering the College of Bards as early as they’d allow her. Overflowing with curiosity and a growing thirst for knowledge, Eri did. Two years learning to study charm and diplomacy was intriguing, and fulfilling, though it was not enough. The potential of the magic running through her veins remained virtually untapped. She was all that her father had left in the world, and so she had every intention of making him proud. She turned her eyes to The Tower, though not before her grandmother had finally caught wind of her existence and of Andromeda’s death. There was a mixture of grief and joy in those old eyes and warmth in the wrinkled hand that reached to cup her cheek. Eri had known pain and difficulties in her life but it had made her gentle to family; she couldn’t look into her grandmother’s eyes and give the woman anything but her sympathy and understanding. With a sensible allowance gifted to her by her grandmother, Eri hoped to instead give her father everything monetary but he did not accept. He smiled; he called himself the richest man with nothing but the pride and love that he held for his daughter. 19 was the age that Eridani said goodbye to her father from the door of The Tower and set out on the adventure of studying magic.

At 25 years of age, Eridani cautioned her father to have every care and to be safe as he journeyed into Iskaldrik for trade. He returned to Lysara months later, safe and happier than ever. He began to speak about a woman and that was when hope blossomed in Eri's chest that her father had found love and joy again after so many years. Work and studies in The Tower were difficult; Eri was forced to remain behind as her father continued on his nomadic ventures. Still, she searching for information on the woman her father had found. A widow, like her father, and with a grown child. A son around her age. Eri remembered her lost sister and the ache in her chest each time she thought of her, each time she saw siblings playing or heard them speaking fondly of the other. All the moments that she wished that she would have known that bond, and all the grief for losing the chance. Her future step-brother’s first letter came with one of her father’s. Jayesh Maheswari had found the second love of his life. High up in The Tower, smiling wide, Eridani worked to compose her first of many long letters to the man who would soon become her brother in all sense but blood. 26 was the age when Eridani held her head high as the witches of the Tower named her Olympian, Agent of Minerva. She had no extraordinary or defining talent for magic, no ingenuity in her mind to rival the brightest of her class, but Eridani had learned the merits of hard work and dedication from her father. Her power had been enough to enter the halls of The Tower and her dedication to succeed had seen her through every trial within until she rose above. In her unwavering attention and determination, she had mastered psionics quicker than most and sacrificed a life outside The Tower's studies for it. The monetary allowance that her grandmother sent by men from Sinaria increased to an unseemly amount by this time, though Eridani had never once asked for a penny. But with her decision thought out, the newly minted Agent of Minerva used a mixture of knowledge, magic, and now new riches to further her connections and fit into the illustrious and influential circles that were otherwise difficult to penetrate. The security and the betterment of her Queendom would become her life’s mission. The desire to give all the safety, joy, and love that Eridani had known to others was the calling that she had chosen for herself. 28 now, Eridani had proven herself worthy of her titles and set her eyes toward Iskaldrik. She wondered of her father, her stepmother and the man who had become both a brother and a dear friend to her through their letters. Her father would not allow her to risk a visit so it was all that she could do to move heaven and earth and bring her family into the safety of Lysara and to her. Her efforts were in vain. Tragedy struck the kingdom quickly, devastation that couldn’t be properly understood through just letters or whispers. Her father’s and her stepmother’s letters stopped. Through her channels and friendships with the Nightingales, Eri learned that they were gone and only her brother had survived. Family, no matter how little, had once been everything that had made life worthwhile. Eridani had lost sight of that in all her ambition and thirst for knowledge. Missions abandoned early and her sights set on finding one missing man, the witch promised herself that she would never make that mistake again.

personality

+ self effacing, hardworking, ambitious – passive aggressive, devious, suspicious

played by dany. est. she/her.

[clottedscream]

haven’t been making much recently, here’s me messing around with character designs

[afro-elf]

fine, i’ll elaborate on my thoughts about tylor sift but they will be disorganized

disclaimer: i know a few people will read this and be like “op is a hozier fan can she really talk about the cultural obsession with mediocre white art?” and the answer is yes because a) i’m black and i have an english degree so can do whatever i fucking want, b) hozier is a better artist than taylor objectively, like his mediocre tracks would be considered her great ones, and c) the comparison of taylor to hozier is part of the problem Genuinely because i don’t even think white people like half the music they listen to, they just don’t wanna be left behind, we’ll get into this later. i’m sorry to everyone who is tired of hearing about him but hozier will be returning later in this post jsfglsjlgldsjlfd

second note: read this

i don’t just dislike taylor because she’s white. i don’t dislike taylor because she’s a woman. i don’t dislike her because she writes mean and petty lyrics about past relationships and people who wronged her. i don’t dislike taylor because her public circle of friends is almost exclusively blonde white celebrities with their own laundry lists of issues that includes ryan reynolds and blake lively who are poster children for white privilege and pseudo-excellence if i’ve ever seen them. i dislike taylor because the amalgamation of all of those things is so exemplary of a huge problem i have with the music industry in general but also like american society

fuck it, numbered list!

1. taylor swift consistently releases the same mediocre album but in different colors. every album is the same lyrically and tonally. her body of work rarely goes very far above “good for taylor swift”. folklore as both title and musical aesthetic is irrelevant to the actual content of the album, which is just every taylor swift album except set to folk pop and with a bit more cussing, congrats for baby’s first swear. i’ve seen folklore compared to much better bodies of work and even propped up by stans as album of the year, a distinction that rina sawayama and chloe x halle will be battling it out for if there is any justice in the world at all. the fact that she is allowed to do this and still be considered great when this is something that even white male artists are butchered critically for... astounds me. like we all know how well received all of coldplay’s similar sounding albums are.... Come on. 

2. i don’t think taylor or her work is particularly feminist and yet for some reason every time she frowns an army of white women brings her kleenex. i’m not saying taylor’s anger has always been unjustified, but her feminism to me has always felt like “i can do whatever a man can do” feminism, which is utterly fucking useless to me as a black woman. it’s only useful to her because as a wealthy, white, straight, cis white woman her ONLY obstacle in life is her gender. and if she just didn’t have that tricky little bitch then maybe people would take her seriously. like, just think about her music video for the man... what was the thesis of that? what was the point of that? with all of her privileges she’d just be gaining a single extra privilege. she’s a blonde blue eyed thin white girl, the world kisses her feet. i have no interest in proving myself any better or any worse than white men, they are not the standard for how a person should be treated, they’re cautionary tales, and white women are too. i think taylor capitalizes off of white woman victimhood, and it’s all over her writing style. even when she’s trying to be empowered, like in mad woman for example, there is this tone to it of victimization, poking the bear, unleashing the beast if you will. she invokes the imagery of salem witches and even more boldly chooses a noose to write about in the song which is..... surely going to be a white tumblr staple for many gifsets to come but holy shit is it hollow. she also tends to come back to teenage memories in her music and she’s thirty. i don’t think about being seventeen unless i’m being held at gunpoint but she seems to think about it All The Time. and part of this is to keep herself young, at least in her music, which only further ingrains this image of fragile teeny bopper taylor into the mind of the listener, fueling her victim image. this imagery and language means nothing because the world always rallies around taylor. even when she was the butt of jokes for not being beyonce (which she is not and never can be) and writing about her exes (which she does), she was largely supported by the industry and by critics. look at how many fucking awards she has!

3. folk and indie and alternative music is in a moment of transition, where musicians of color are getting the chance to really speak about how they’ve been treated in these overwhelmingly white circles and create their own standards and their own voices. and for taylor swift to swoop in with aaron dessner and jack antonoff fantano and almost reassert that mid-2010s indie sound as The Sound of folk pop in the popular consciousness.... it makes me violent! it! makes! me! violent! 

4. back to hozier! finally, i wanna talk about white standom, fandom, bandom, and womandom. i often see these very superficial comparisons between hozier and taylor (and hozier and florence and hozier and stevie nicks and hozier and whatever other white woman in fashion) and they frustrate me for more than one reason. i know that hozier has met taylor and said she’s cool, which is nice of him and he’s a nice man, but i’m not a nice man so i’m going to just say it: none of the people who have made those posts have listened to more than four hozier songs and it shows. the reason why this matters is because these posts catch on and create an image and preconception of hozier’s music that is divorced from reality and divorced from his influences and most importantly divorced from the deliberate and reverent blackness of his musical style. hozier has his white male privilege in the industry for sure but he’s not as towering of a giant as taylor and taylor’s music is an unsalted chicken, plain oatmeal, white paint drying on a white wall, a stick of unflavored gum. her music is so white it told me that its dad is a cop. i am, as a black hozier fan, exhausted with having to share space with white women who don’t know why hozier’s music kicks me in my lungs sometimes and think that taylor mentioning a tree ONCE in her 3 minute acoustic guitar slog about whatever suburb is the same when it simply is not. i swear some of you are pretending to love taylor because your friends love her and you don’t wanna be left out of the hot new musical discourse but she’s only the hot new musical discourse CONSTANTLY because she’s a white woman, she’s almost the Perfect white woman. like if someone asked me to describe a white woman, it would be taylor swift. her position at the top of the musical pyramid among people who eclipse her musically, vocally, and lyrically is only allowed because she’s The Perfect White Woman. she’s an ideal. white girls relate to her immediately because of it and now we have this unshakable mob of unbearable white women who think that the world has wronged someone who literally wrote fanfiction about the rich oil heiress white woman who owned her rhode island mansion before her aklghlghdhlgs it drives me fucking NUTS 

anyway that’s all. if you made it this far, listen to adia victoria, kaia kater, samantha crain, valerie june, kelsey lu, corinne bailey rae, brittany howard, kimya dawson, japanese breakfast, cold specks, left at london, rhiannon giddens, aisha badru, shea diamond, nadine shah, xenia rubinos, karen o, mirel wagner.... Anyone