#theres still hope for you to get it sauce buddy

[jrueships]

sauce boobies ...

[vapidsims]

Blaire Oldwood for @boomchicapopdats create your own story!

Part 2/2

part 1

Age: 21

Gender: Trans male

Race: Dark elf from the Oldwood clan

Magic type: Untamed magic

Kingdom of orgin: Elvyndale (currently sequestered at sylvan glade)

Blaire is one of a Ancient elven bloodline. Once upon a time known for their powerful magic, and for being children of the moon. but after an unfortunate event that era has ended for them. though its on the hush-hush. Shhhhhhsh~

They are characteristically Elegant, classy, beautiful, snobby, high class people. theyre blessed by the moon its withing their right to be goregeous and perfect!

But not Blair....He gave up on that charade the second he realized he lost his mother.

He vaugely knew of the curse when he was little. the grownups never stopped talking about how at this rate the oldwood clan were going to loose their gift entirely. All because of some vampire with anger management issues.

Blaire was playing with his dolls in the corner while his Mother and his aunts and uncles came up with a plan. the vampire was probably still alive out there and if they found her, they could stop the curse. either force her to undo it, or kill her if need be. because a bloodline that once held legendary power was reduced to common spellcastery within barely 3 generations!

the next night they were gone. Blaire remembers the last time his mother tucked him into bed, saying she was going on a “little adventure” and she was coming right back.

You can probably predict how that ended...

After their parents vanished forever Granny, the only family they had left. quicly scooped them up and suquestered them away to sylvan glade. a cozy little realm protected by a magical tree. Nobody of ill intent can get in.

So it was just, Granny, Blaire, Blair’s sister. and cousins. sheltered and comfortable in the glade, one would think. 

But Blaire is a restless spirit. he would insist on sneaking out and playing with commoners or being in places he had ABSOLUTELY NO BUISNESS being in.

Granny hoped he would grow out of it but unfortunately for his poor grandmother, hes just like that.

you see Blaire just wants to live his life, because theres something granny doesnt know, he knows... He found a letter, probably in his preteen years. It was adressed to his grandmother, from one of his uncles. They had found the vampire witch they were looking for, excited about the prospect of ending the curse. 

p.s. at the bottom said, “dont tell the kids until we get back, we want to surprise them” blaire was excited too. So he played along, and waited for mommy and his uncles to return.

Summer went by

fall went by

winter...

spring........

To this day the cousins an his sister think theyre possibly just out there still hunting the vampire, and theyre gonna come get them all out of the glade some day. that the Oldwoods will return to Elvyndale in all their reclaimed glory!

But Blaire...Blaire knows....

and hes not gonna wait for something impossible to happen in order to be happy and have fun. To hold up some pristine image that isnt anything but an illusion now.

Why wait?

becuase he can dissapear too.... Especially if that witch ever decided to oficcially end the moonchildren for good.

So yeah he likes to run off and dance with the commoners, snag a couple fruit from the market without paying, sneak out of the glade for Just long enoughhhh to worry poor granny. watch the moon fade away as the sun rises....

while a boombox blares in the background. 

Why granny decides to send him off to a ball to impress a gorgeous prince is beyond  him, but hes thrilled already. a WHOLE NEW KINGDOM to explore! and not a chance vampire lady can be found there. Also he could potentially hook a new husband, which is like, WOW...or y’know, if not, maybe get lucky enough for a kiss on the cheek or just being buddies. he’ll settle for that too.

___________________________________________________

Sidenote: Granny is secretly hoping she can send her grandchildren off to other kingdoms, in positions where they will be safe and have the resources to remain so. Blaire is first because of the fact hes hard for her to keep track of, and Dornne is a nice kingdom from what shes heard. Blaire isnt so dense that he wont catch on if he thinks about it for a few minutes.

_________________________________________________________

fun facts:

Blaire only *thinks* he can sing...please dont let him.

His aspiration is musical genius...oh the sad, sad irony...

For somebody who dances the way he does he is literally nothing but clumsy any other time. hes fallen off so many balconies, and tripped down so many stairs...hes ok. elves are built all flexible-like

he will gladly hold a conversation with some rando peasant on the street, people is people.

Imma make up a term here and call him an “optimistic nihilist” 

hes game for being friends with the other royals, magicians, ect. at the ball. why not? could always use more friends.

Likes to play. keep him entertained and happy and he’ll love you forever.

you can pry his trashy “commoner” music from his cold, dead hands.

favorite food is treefish fillet with garlic sauce and pepper slices.

he likes spicy/savory foods in general.

Joy ride. Give him a vehicle, its on his bucket list 

[boyswanna-be-her]

goretober: eyes

“For fuck’s sake, Jeff, put the glasses back on before somebody sees you.”

I hate the way my voice hisses but it gets the job done and Jeff fumbles to push the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. I do a quick sweep around the restaurant and nobody seems to have seen what I just saw.

I mean. Shit. There’s no way that I even saw what I just saw. So for now I’m not going to try and deal with it. But I do have to be back at work in--oh, Christ--forty minutes.

“What do you want me to do with this information?” I ask.

I spot our server before Jeff has a chance to answer and I flag her down as politely and urgently as possible. In a voice that I struggle to keep businesslike, I order a whiskey double. Yes, neat.

“What do you mean what do I want you to do?” Jeff asks. So, he’s still as useless as he was the last time I saw him face to face. What a plot twist.

I picture what’s sitting behind those mirror-tint aviators and shiver, instinctively fighting it, trying not to show it because I don’t want Jeff to know that I’m creeped out.

That’s right. I’m worried about hurting this guy’s feelings. The person who texted me abruptly and begged for lunch in the middle of my work week, only to show up with his… freaky bug eyes. Whatever it is I just saw.

I’m going to be talking about this hallucination in therapy for months, and I’m the one worrying about making him uncomfortable.

“I mean, isn’t this something you ought to be talking to your family about?” I say, desperately trying to set boundaries weeks too late, as usual. “Or, I don’t know…”

“I don’t have anybody. I don’t know who to call.” He shakes his head as he says it.

I lose control of my mind and the image of his eyes flashes back into my imagination. Do you think those bug eyes can even cry now?

Fuck, fuck. Don’t think this shit.

Jeff is looking at me like I’m his last hope on earth.

Fuck. I know full well that Jeff has no goddamned friends in town. That’s half the reason I ended up hooking up with him in the first place and one hundred percent of the reason why I terminated things pretty quickly from there. I could tell I was going to be nothing but a security blanket to this half-grown kid. Maybe that sounds frosty--and maybe it is--but I like to tell myself I was doing the best thing for both of us.

Kid like this needs friends--not a fuck buddy from hell like me.

The waitress arrives with my bottom shelf whiskey. I let her get a few paces away and throw my stupid shifty eyes all around the room to make sure no one is watching before I throw back the enormous shot and gulp it in one go, conspicuous as fuck.

I don’t bother trying to look cool. I suck down sweet tea to wash away the paint thinner taste until I can no longer feel the burn in my throat.

Fuck you Jeff. Fuck this freaky bullshit.

How am I going to go back and write website copy in 36 minutes from now? My sites-per-hour rate is going to be in the absolute garbage today. As usual, another stupid boy costs me money.

“Francis? Will you please say something?”

“The fuck is it like?” I ask desperately.

Or rather, the big shot of whiskey that kicked in just in time asks. The voice doesn’t even sound like me.

Jeff snorts and shakes his head and for the first time since he met me in this grimy sushi hellhole, I remember why I slept with him in the first place. When he’s not so busy being insecure and getting in his own way, he can be kind of cute.

When I broke it off, I thought, Someday somebody’s gonna break his heart and give him some real angst. I wish he’d call me then.

Well, the human being across from me just lowered his sunglasses to reveal a pair of bug eyes--or alien eyes or… who the fuck knows? I’m not drunk enough for this.

But I do know that whatever it is, Jeff has a real reason to angst now.

There’s no way I’m gonna fall for this particular broken boy though. Christ. What a nightmare.

“Would you believe me if I said it was absolutely exquisite?” Jeff asks. I’ve already forgotten that I asked a question.

“No fucking way.”

“It’s lovely. It’s… I don’t know how to even begin to explain.”

His posture sags and one corner of his mouth crooks up. It sounds like he’s talking about the love of his life--not some inexplicable mutation or morph-ation or whatever it is that he says has been slowly transforming his human eyes into segmented, multifaceted insect eyes over the course of two weeks as he fretted about it, alone in his depressing apartment.

He hasn’t shaved in a few days and he looks exceptionally tired. He has no right to look this good right now. It’s so weird that this is suddenly doing it for me. What the fuck is my damage.

“Do you see a million of me right now?”

I wave my hand a few inches from his face and Jeff jolts backwards. “Please don’t do that.”

“My bad.”

“No. It’s not like movies. It’s more like seeing a pixelated screen.”

“Christ. I’m picturing Minecraft. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re completely wrong,” he says, tilting his head back. “It’s like everything I see is a painting. Things don’t flow together the way they did before, and I find myself… pulling back. Does that make sense?”

I shake my head, no. “That’s okay, though.”

“I’m seeing the world differently--”

“Yeah, no shit--”

“I don’t mean the eyes. It forces my brain to work in another way--like it’s building a whole new structure in there. I feel like these entirely new parts of my mind are lighting up and growing to compensate for… whatever it is that’s happening. I feel better than I did before.”

Does he seriously kind of have a boner for this? Gross.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“What if someone finds out? What if they want to study me? What if--if there’s something wrong with me, Francis?”

Oh Jeff, baby, you’re a white boy at a landlocked sushi joint with a dating app hookup who ended it after three goes and occasionally sends you a pity LOL when you pester me with memes via text. There’s plenty wrong with you even before the bug eyes enter the equation.

Fuck. Whiskey makes me such an asshole.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, veering off topic wildly because I know my lunch hour is ticking down and this particular brand of hallucination is at least more entertaining than the weird half-buzzed dissociating I’m sure I’m going to be doing at my desk all afternoon.

He winces. “It didn’t at first.”

Shit. I didn’t expect him to say it hurt. Goddamn it, I’m starting to care about this.

“But they’re growing. I think. It’s hard to tell. I don’t know if I’m being a hypochondriac or if they’re really starting to bulge more than a normal human eye would. I feel… enormous pressure in my head. And sometimes it’s like theres--like there’s something--I don’t know--moving and I started taking decongestants a few days ago. It’s really hard for me to focus my eyes on an image of… my eyes. You know?”

I nod stupidly. Of course I have no clue. Did he say there is something moving in his fucking skull?

“Do you want me to… check if I think they’re bulging?” I gulp sweet tea as if steeling myself for this. I hate to admit to myself that I kind of want to see them again.

He shrugs and sighs and obviously wants to say yes but doesn’t want to admit that he wants it.

Fuck, this is exactly like our first hookup. I hate this fucking asshole.

“OK, let me look.”

“You seriously don’t have to.”

On that first night, I ended up telling him, “I’m not going to beg you to suck your cock.”

I contemplate saying the same thing today but I’m pretty sure he’s distracted enough not to remember.

“Whatever, I know I don’t have to. Just let me see.”

I lean over the table, careful not to dip my tie in the tiny bowl of soy sauce, and Jeff leans in too. He lowers the glasses to rest on the tip of his nose and tilts his head up just so.

He’s got skin like a fucking marble statue, I think for a split second before I remember the problem at hand.

Closer, here in the light, the eyes look less like a dark, terrifying void. Or maybe it’s just that I’m semi-prepared to see them this time, now that I know what I’m getting into. Or maybe it’s that I’m halfway into talking myself into blowing him again, just for the hell of it.

The eyes sit in his sockets just like a normal human eye would. But instead of the white sclera, the corneas, the pupils--all the normal jazz we know and love about the windows of the soul, staring out from his smooth, pale skin are two eyes the texture of a housefly’s.

Under the buzzing suspended light, their surface bursts and spirals out into fluorescent kaleidoscopic patterns, glittering in an oilslick rainbow. I’m torn between thinking of my sister’s most coveted nail polish named, aptly, “Demon Unicorn Shit,” and my own memory of the last time someone talked me into thinking that dropping acid would be a fun Thursday night activity.

They’re kind of lovely, I think. Christ, I could slap myself.

When Jeff blinks over them, it looks painful and clearly takes a lot of effort. His blink is slow and audible, like the sound of someone with drymouth parting their lips. I shiver again and he notices, sitting back and pushing the sunglasses quickly back up the bridge of his nose.

Oh god, he’s so damaged. I’m absolutely going to end up getting involved in this shit. I could hang myself.

“Sorry,” he says. “It’s disgusting.”

I snort and shake my head. “I was actually thinking they were kind of pretty.”

“Francis, don’t tease me,” he says, shaking his head and sounding miserable.

“I really was. Thinking they weren’t so scary, I mean. I wouldn’t pull your leg right now.”

He won’t look up at me.

“What am I going to do?”

Christ, he’s pitiful. The whiskey is sitting warm at the base of my skull. The whiskey says, Weren’t you just slumping in your beige cube, wishing that life would hand you an adventure--even if it was a terrible one?

Aren’t you dying for something different, even if it’s gruesome?

I let the whiskey do what it wants for a moment, slipping my nice leather shoe forward under the booth table, sliding our bare ankles together.

Cool relief floods my chest when my skin meets the warm skin of another human. I don’t know what I’d expected. Tarantula hair? Spiny barbs? An exoskeleton?

No, this is pathetic, sweet Jeff. Not some overgrown housefly. It’s Jeff who needs my help. Me. Specifically, Francis.

I sigh and put my hand face up on the table. Jeff doesn’t understand at first, and by the tilt of his head, I can tell he’s looking from my palm to my eyes and then back again. I wiggle my fingers in a completely un-suave way of enticing him.

After a moment, he understands and slips his palm over mine. I grasp his hand, warm and dry, and look at my own reflection in his sunglasses.

I realize that I’m not going back to work and wonder when, exactly, I made that decision.

Maybe I didn’t make the decision. Maybe I just know better than to fight it when I can feel my entire life changing because I decided not to ghost this guy today. Maybe it’s the manic thrill of finding a new and novel way to fuck everything up.

I should drop him at the ER and run in the opposite direction. I should call out sick and check myself into an ER.

And instead, I’m about to pick up the check for sushi and… Damn it, this isn’t even my adventure. I didn’t work this hard to be a fucking sidekick.

“Everything’s gonna be OK, Jeff.” My voice doesn’t belong to me. It’s strong and cool like an ancient river. “We’ll figure this thing out.”

I swallow hard and flag the server down for another double with my free hand.

[at-least-ill-die-a-lionturtle]

All of the Halloween questions! 👻

Bat: If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be? A lion or a bear :DBlack Cat: Are you superstitious? If so, what are you superstitious about? Im not superstitious... But I... Im a little stitiousBroomstick: If you could travel anywhere in the world where would it be? TOO MANY CHOICES. I guess.... AH FUCK. UHMMMM... IcelandCandy Corn: What food disgusts you the most? Gross shit*. *Gross shit includes but is not limited to: Most vegetables. Just. Fuck vegetables.Cauldron: What is your favorite thing to cook? I love making omelettes :3 Tho Im not good at flipping themCobwebs: One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? Fucking anywhere. Ive literally gotten lost in places I know like the back of my hand, at night time. Because. Everything just looks so different??? WHERE IS EVERYTHING??? I dont know. Its dark.Coffin: Are you claustrophobic? Not typically. But I tend to not like small, cramped spaces. I like having room to move around n stuffDemon: What is your worst flaw? Which one? Socially inept, anxiety, depression, lazy tendencies, procrastination, not good at communication in general, excessive anger, the memory capacity of a fucking potato. Seriously. Just pick one lolEerie: One thing that always creeps you out? Shit with no eyes, or mouths that are too big/with too many teeth (like this)Fright: What is your biggest fear? Death. Time? Time running out. Life ending with unfinished business. Unaccomplished dreams. Lost hope. Full of regret.Ghost: If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind? I would hope to come back as another human. Gravestone: Ideal way you'd like to die? There was this woman in California? I think. Who had an inoperable, terminal cancer. Only six months to live, that sorta thing. So she had a whole weekend long party, Sat to Mon I think. With her closest friends and family. And it was all about having fun and celebrating life. If anyone felt like they would start crying, there was a Sad Room™ for them. And then at the end, she was left alone with her doctor who then put her to sleep.So either that, but without the cancer, or I guess peacefully in my sleep.Haunted House: If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? Snoop Dogg. Or Felicia Day!Hocus Pocus: What is the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? BOII. THIS IS SUCH A LOADED QUESTION. Like? I heard most ridikkulus things every day lol Howel: Your favorite kind of dog? Huskies!Jack-o'-lantern: Do you have any scars? If so, how many? I have quite a few. 10 at least.Monster: What is your favorite scary movie to watch in the dark? Either Silent Hill or Shrooms. Both of which are nightmare inducing lolMummy: Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? Cremated for surePotion: What is your favorite thing to drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic? Either Kool-Aid or juice. Especially apple juice.Pumpkin: What is your favorite food around the holidays? Theres these bacon wrapped weenies that my gf and her mom make UNNNNF perfectionScream: Easiest way to scare you? Stop talking to me out of the blue and not respond to my messages :PSkeleton: Tell me one of your biggest secrets? Okay, so. Let me tell you, [STATEMENT REDACTED]Spooky: What was your last nightmare about? I went to hang out with my friends and none of them would talk to me, and then finally one of them was like, “Just leave. Just go away. Youre not wanted here.” And I woke up almost crying. I guess thats kinda more sad really? But its still like a big fear, so it kinda counts?Trick or Treat: Tell me about the greatest worst prank you've ever pulled? One time when I was working at BK, I wanted to slap one of my co-worker buddies with a bun full of tartar sauce. But I wanted it to be really gross, so I popped in the microwave. Because hot tartar sauce is super gross. But I left it in too long and it was super hot, so I put it in the fridge for a few minutes. Well, that wasnt enough. And when I slapped him with it, I burnt the fuck outta his face. Not like, severely or anything. But yeah. Im not good at pranks lolVampire: Which one are you? Early bird or night owl? I can be both, but mostly early bird.Witch: If you could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast? A spell that would conjure up a book with more spells in it :PZombie: What is one food you always overeat? I dont know? I go through phases of cravings really. I’ll eat nothing but one food for like a week or a month, get sick of it, then repeat with a different food.

[caredogstips]

Gangster-Magicians and 4 More Perfect Post-Thanksgiving Podcasts

The bowls are done, the leftovers finished: You wont have to tune out your crazy uncle at the dinner table for a whole month! But theres still a few cold weeks of work to go until the vacation smash is truly here–or, as we prefer to think of it, until you have a few days off to watch Love Actually and Elf and National Lampoons Christmas Vacation in footie pajamas.

So, what can you listen to in the meantime? Well, were glad you asked! Read on for a sorcerer who became a robber, a felon who became a mayor, and the person who safely removes snakes from airplanes. Plus, the Chinese market of thousands and thousands of channel-surf Santas, and how internment camps forced Japanese-American food.

Fugitive Waves , “Weenie Royale”

Since Donald Trumps election, many have likened his talk of a Muslim registry to Japanese internment camp during World War II. Fugitive Motions aspects Japanese-Americans who lived in the campsincluding Star Trek ‘ s George Takeitalking about how internment affected and influencedthe nutrients they grew up with: fried bologna with soy sauce and sugar, for example, or the Weenie Royalesliced hot dogs cooked with onion and eggs, devour with soy sauce over rice.

Since Donald Trumps election, many have equated his talk of a Muslim registry to Japanese internment camp during World War II. Fugitive Movements features Japanese-Americans who lived in the campsincluding Star Trek ‘ s George Takeitalking about how internment affected and influencedthe meat they grew up with: fried bologna with soy sauce and carbohydrate, for example, or the Weenie Royalesliced hot dog cooked with onion and eggs, gobble with soy sauce over rice.

Crimetown , “Divine Providence”

After a misdemeanour belief, Providence mayor Buddy Cianci resignedand then got re-elected. Crimetown knocks off its season examining the life of Rhode Islands most charismatic felon-in-office with a subject from 40 years ago, when Cianci first developed a honour as an anti-corruption solicitor while prosecuting far-famed rabble boss Raymond Patriarca. Boasting Joey One-Arm, Joey Bad Way, and all the Rhode Island accents you hoped for.

After a misdemeanour sentence, Providence mayor Buddy Cianci resignedand then get re-elected. Crimetown kicks off its season examining the life of Rhode Islands most charismatic felon-in-office with a example from 40 years ago, when Cianci first developed a honour as an anti-corruption lawyer while prosecuting famous syndicate boss Raymond Patriarca. Peculiarity Joey One-Arm, Joey Bad Way, and all the Rhode Island accents you hoped for.

Criminal , “The Shell Game”

Whit Pop Haydn sits in on seances that summon Harry Houdini and schools police how to catch con humankinds on the street, but the magicians best sleight-of-hand is the shell game. Start behind the imitation doors at The Magic Castle, Hollywoods private squad for magicians, and learn about Jefferson Randolph Soapy Smith, the felony boss who made a fortune by hiding a pea under a eggshell and moving it around, devising a ploy that has perplexed kids birthday party attendees for a century.

Whit Pop Haydn sits in on seances that summon Harry Houdini and teaches police how to catch con males on wall street, but the magicians better sleight-of-hand is the shell game. Start behind the bogus doorways at The Magic Castle, Hollywoods private association for sorcerers, and learn about Jefferson Randolph Soapy Smith, the felony boss who made a luck by concealing a pea under a shell and moving it around, devising a gimmick that has mystified babies birthday party attendees for a century.

99% Invisible , “Dollar Store Town”

Thanksgiving is over, and you know what that signifies. Time to buy a tree and embellish it with plastic baubles. 99% Invisible goes beyond the Walgreens alleys and dollar accumulations to the wholesale market where it all embarks: the Futian marketplace, or China Commodity City. At 43 million square feetthats 10 hours the size of the Mall of Americaworkers there sell plastic dolls, rubber ducks, vuvuzelas by the millions, andmany, numerous Santums: climbing out of chimneys, journeying motorcycles, surfing. Its a testament to American consumerism, 200 miles southwest of Shanghai.

Thanksgiving is over, and you know what that means. Time to buy a tree and embellish it with plastic baubles. 99% Invisible goes beyond the Walgreens aisles and dollar storages to the wholesale grocery where it all inaugurates: the Futian sell, or China Commodity City. At 43 million square feetthats 10 eras the size of the Mall of Americaworkers there sell plastic dolls, rubber ducks, vuvuzelas by the millions, andmany, numerous Santas: clambering out of chimneys, going motorcycles, channel-surf. Its a testament to American consumerism, 200 miles southwest of Shanghai.

Work in Progress , Untethered

This holiday weekend, 49 million Americans took to the skies. Hopefully , not one of those airplanes had a snake aboard. But if it did, airport wildlife administrators like Rob Shevalier could save the day. Shevalier worked on airport runways, until he decided to become a falconer and save passengers from wayward animals in the air. This escapade of Work in Progress also featuresMohamed Alborno, a stateless person who plans to create a country for himselfonline. Listen here.

Credit: Slack

This holiday weekend, 49 million Americans took to the skies. Hopefully , not one of those planes had a snake aboard. But if it did, airport wildlife administrators like Rob Shevalier could save the working day. Shevalier worked on airport runways, until he decided to become a falconer and save fares from wayward creatures in the air. This escapade of Work in Progress also featuresMohamed Alborno, a stateless person who plans to create a country for himselfonline. Listen here.

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