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hcrofraid · 5 years

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Rules:

HALLO THERE! Here’s my rules! They’re a bit long, but hopefully you can push through ‘em and we can get a chance at interaction!

1. Themes might vary with this blog. Although I’m typically SFW, I might touch upon dark topics here and there.

Things will be tagged! I’ll try my best, anyways. If you want something in particular tagged, please let me know. The format I use for tagging is, for example, tw: swearing.

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW content.

That said, I won’t do anything NSFW - gore is okay, though.

I’m of age.

2. I‘m a little selective, but otherwise - I’m open to canon, au, crossover, and original characters! As long as their muns rp literately/write para.

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it.

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

As I’ve said, I’m selective and as a result mutuals do take priority - but I don’t have to be following you for you to interact with me. It just means I’m more likely to interact with you if you’re a mutual.

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are! Additionally, life happens to be a thing.

Please note the mun deals with anxiety and depression - this might affect how frequently she roleplays.

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

Just a reminder I hoard all your asks too, even weeks later. If I don’t respond to it, I’m either keeping it for a rainy day, or just can’t find the muse/interest for it currently. If it’s been a month or two though, just assume it wasn’t working for me unless I’ve informed you otherwise.

4. Shippings? Heck yeah I’m down for the fluffy content, as long as they’re of similar age to my boio.

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

Sontails will not be happening on this blog either, sorry.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise.

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately. Also, Tails is a child. So no.

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

Please don’t reblog my art unless I’ve drawn it specifically for you or said you can. I either have that as do not reblog for a reason, or I am planning to post it on my art blog at some point.

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happens to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching them.

If para roleplays aren’t your alley, I’m unlikely to roleplay with you. It’s nothing personal; it’s just finding muse for one-liner threads is incredibly difficult unless it’s dash shenanigans. Anything else outside that is fine, though - we can still have fun outside of proper threads.

If you need further context on the AU, the link to it’s tag is here! Otherwise just ask me!

Tails’ AU is one I’m very proud of and very attached to, so please don’t force your headcanons about him on me. If you’re unsure how certain events play out in the context of his universe, don’t hesitate to ask me about them!

That said, anything that might take place on this blog obviously isn’t canon to the AU itself; I just like writing for this boio and it helps me develop his character. It’s all hypothetical.

Additionally! Don’t worry too much if the headcanoned relationships between Tails and other muses don’t match yours. Those are mostly just guidelines for how Tails would USUALLY interact with your muse. I’m open to altering these relationships to better fit our threads! Don’t ever feel restricted to what I put down; it’s mostly just for context purposes because, well, Tails is absent. I’m an IM away for plotting.

8. Threads typically happen naturally with me, but if you’re looking for interaction opportunities:

I’ll have a permanent starter call somewhere for you to hit up; honestly though, if you’re a mutual? Pls feel free to hit it up.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If there’s a verse you’re interested in, please specify.

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

I may not roleplay with every starter I am given - I’ll do a ‘background check’ if you’re a new blog on the block. If I don’t feel your writing style/length works with mine, I might not respond. Apologies. ;__;

Please don’t write para / novella starters up for me unless we’ve discussed something, sent something, or I’ve liked a starter call. I really don’t want to leave people hanging if I’m not interested.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting.

I also have Discord! If you’re mutuals with me, feel free to ask for it!

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please note that MAINS fall into two categories; one pertaining to Tails’ initial universe, and those pertaining to alternates. Although the latter is plenty, for clarity’s sake, there would be one alternate Tails might default to.

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me. GIMME’ ALL THE PRECIOUS BONDING CONTENT PLS. THIS BOY NEEDS FRIENDS.

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and sometimes even Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me! I just need a social breather every now and again.

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

11. It’s easier with a clean dash for me, so I’m more likely to follow people who:

Trim their posts.

Have rules and about pages! I always read those before interacting or following!

If you don’t have either of those, I’m likely not to follow you - so make sure that you do!

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything Tails might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. If you’re OKAY with threads being set in Tails’ universe (and acting as his inverse counterparts), please like / reply to this post! It just lets me know I’m A-OK to shoot you asks pertaining to it, rather than the usual alternate shenanigans.

16. These rules may be subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

#|| rules.

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wincestisasincest · 7 years

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Patrick? --- Part 2 (A Newsies Fan-fiction)

Hi! This is a two part fanfiction, so if you haven’t read the first part, read it here: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/161958254775/patrick-part-1-a-newsies-fan-fiction.

Now, on with the fanfiction!

Jacobi’s always had a sort of effect on people. The pressures and worries of the day drift into oblivion as soon as you enter the welcoming doors of the restaurant, especially if you happen to be a Manhattan newsie. They’d established yet another tradition at Jacobi’s, as it had become a hot-spot for all of the tired (and starving) boys to relieve their troubles.

The smell of food wafted over the energetic crowd of teenagers, who were busy discussing all that was to be discussed in the busy, busy, life of a newsie. Even though there was only about 7 or 8 newsies sitting around the table, their energy filled the entire room, making them seem like the audience for a concert, rather than a bunch of half-starved New Yorkers desperate for their food.

Jack Kelly sat at the head of the table, attentively observing, and occasionally participating in, the various witty remarks being exchanged among the group.

“I’m so hungry that I could eat an entire elephant!”

“I’m so hungry that I could eat two elephants!”

“I’m so hungry that I could eat an entire buffet, Vegas-style.”

“Nah, Race, they’d kick you outta Vegas for cheatin’.”

The table erupted into laughter, and even Race couldn’t hide his amusement, a small smile creeping onto his face. Jack let out a sigh, looking over the counter expectantly. He could appreciate that you can’t rush perfection, especially when it came to food, but given Jacobi’s current customers, perfection didn’t really have to be a priority.

The doors of the restaurant swung open.

This was a common occurrence at Jacobi’s, after all, it was a functioning restaurant, and did have customers besides the newsies, though it would be impossible to tell them that. Normally, Jack would allow the doors to swing open, always keeping the new arrivals in the corner of his eye, incase it was something indicative of acknowledgement. And Stitch, notably without Wax by her side, walking into the diner as though she was a regular there, was indicative of acknowledgement.

“’Ey, Stitch, ova here!” Jack’s hand, waving the leader of the Bronx over, was the only thing that could be seen above the crowd of pageboy caps. Eyes trained on Jack, Stitch made her way to the table, plopping into the seat adjacent to him.

“Evening, Cowboy,” She shot him a cocky smile before turning her attention to the counter, “’Ey, one float, please.”

“Whassa matta, you ain’t stayin for dinna?” Race had finally noticed her presence at the table, and thought best to draw everyone else to it with a sarcastic remark.

“’Fraid not, Race. ‘Ere on strict business.”

“’So strict ya walked all the way ta ‘hattan?” Jack reclaimed control of the conversation.

“Wanted ta ask ya about summin, Cowboy.” The clink of plates coming in contact with the table was the tell-tale signal that the newsboys had reached salvation. Without hesitation, and abandoning the usual custom of waiting until everyone was served, the newsboys dug into their meal, and no calorie was spared. The two leaders, on the other hand, kept their eyes trained on each other with the arrival of their respective orders.

“And what would dat be?” Jack eyed his food like a predator preparing to strike.

“Ya know dat question you asked ‘bout two nights ago. Poker night, I believe? About dat kid, Patrick?” Stitch took a long, deep, drink of her root beer float, and Jack took that as his queue to dive into his meal, albeit less carnivorously that the rest of the group.

“Yeah, I tink so. Why?”

“Well,” Stich took another sip, “I tink I might know someone dat matches your description. Thought you might be interested.” With that finishing sentence, Jack’s hand slowed to a halt, inches away from his sandwich. He gave Stich a curious look.

“Ya mean, ‘dere is a Patrick? Wassa kid like?”

“10 years old, ‘bout 5 ft., came to us a ‘lil less than a year ago, keeps mentionin’ his ma…”

“His ma? Dats definitely da one. Can ya bring ‘im here, maybe, I tink tomorrow-“

“Woah, hold it Cowboy,” Stitch took another nonchalant sip, “What exactly do ya have in mind for da kid? He is still a Bronx newsie, ya know.”

“Well,” Jack flashed a victorious smile, “If we’re talkin’ about who I tink we’re talkin’ about, we might be able ta get dis kid back with his ma.”

“His ma? You sure ya know what you’re talkin’ about, Cowboy? I mean, ‘dere’s a lotta Patricks in New York. What makes ya say we got da right one?”

“I- I dunno. Just a feelin’. But if you can bring dis kid wit you tomorrow, we can find out for sure.”

“I s’pose dere’s nutin to loose,” Jack bit into his sandwich, knowing that he’d won, while Stitch took another contemplative sip, “So I’ll se ya at da ‘hattan lodge. Before sellin’, or afta?”

“Before, be dere in time for da nuns.”

“Sure ting.” Stitch slammed a coin on the table, accompanying her empty glass, and picked herself up from the stool.

“And Cowboy,” Jack turned back to her, almost out of the door, “If dis just happens to be a wasta time, know dat me, and Patrick, will hold ya completely responsible.” The emphasis on the word ‘responsible’ ensured that there was no doubt of receiving one of Stitch’s mythical beatings.

“Deal.”

The door slammed behind Stitch, and Jack wasted no time into completely demolishing his sandwich. There was a brief moment of silence, where every newsboy at the table was so, completely, absorbed in their food that they forgot to create the ruckus that they had become known for. Race was the first to break this.

“So… I guess dere is a Patrick?” he turned to Jack.

“Dere is?!” one of the younger voices shot up from the small group.

“Ya know what dat means, right Race?” Jack’s winning smile hadn’t faded, “Guess ya can’t win every bet, eh?”

Race couldn’t hear Jack’s last comment, as he was too busy rummaging through his pockets for spare change.

-Time skip brought to you by ‘Objecting on the grounds of Brooklyn’ being totally legit in a legal scenario-

The streets were filled with the typical morning rush of the Manhattan newsies. The finish line for their incredibly unfair and fruitless race was the nuns, at the end of the street, as per usual. And, as per usual, Jack continued to take his sweet time walking down the street. This time, however, he was flanked by Stitch, and the legendary boy that had haunted the mornings of every Manhattan newsie since the wayward mother appeared last year.

Patrick was scruffy, with tangled brown hair barely covering his dull green eyes, though it perfectly complemented his torn clothing and shoes with half of a sole left in each of them. It was strange for most of the newsboys, as they had never pictured that this tradition-status person would have any corporeal form at all. Patrick had gone from being a collection of scattered thoughts into an actual human being, and it gave off an awkward aura, to say the least.

“Well, Pat, waddya tink?” Jack attempted to make conversation with him, attempting to lighten the mood. Stitch had already informed him that Patrick had his doubts about the whole situation, and Jack couldn’t argue with that. ‘A feeling’ isn’t really a sound logical base, after all.

“Name’s Puck. And I tink dat dis is a loada dog crap.” Patrick didn’t even turn to look at Jack, and he didn’t need to. Jack already picked up that he was in a bad mood.

“Well, Puck, what if it ain’t?” Jack had to show some restraint. He didn’t want to a deliver a mother her child with a black eye.

“If it ain’t, den you can have all a my papes for de rest a my life as a newsie.”

“Which’ll be around 0.” Stitch’s snide remark served the remind the two that they weren’t the only people in the street, and that they did have actual business to attend to.

“Exactly.”

Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets, and the group went silent, as the neared the cart. There was the typical line up of newsies, reaching their hands out expectantly, some of them already enjoying the fresh bread and water. Jack could feel his stomach tighten. The moment was near.

“Patrick?”

The trio shoved their way through the forest of starving boys, earning a couple of annoyed glances, and even one push back. Jack impatiently peered over the head of Romeo, and could see their regular, Patrick’s ma, just over the brim of his hat.

“Darling?”

She hopelessly searched the crowd, having more luck parting the newsboys, as they were all reminded of the inkling of pity that they felt for this mother when they saw her typical messy hair and stained apron. Jack finally managed to push Romeo aside, himself almost falling over.

“Hey, ‘scuse you!” he picked himself back up, angrily facing jack, who took no notice, “What’s the big idea? I oughtta-“

“Ma?”

There was not one person there that day that didn’t give at least a sideways glance, as Patrick stood about a foot away, the closest they had been in a year, from his mother. He stared directly at her, observing everything, from her messy hair, to her stained apron, to her kind eyes, that he thought that he didn’t remember.

Patrick’s ma looked at him for second, almost in disbelief, trying to take in the situation. She, too, was observing the young street scamp in front of her, his tangled hair, his ruined clothes, and his expression, which she had a distinct, and sometimes emotional, recollection of.

“Patrick?”

The two stood there, frozen, and looking at each other. It was the longest time that the newsboys had ever been silent.

Without any warning, Patrick’s ma rushed towards him, hugging her son, tears falling down her face. Patrick’s expression of shock hadn’t wavered, but slowly, it morphed into a small smile, as he hugged his mother back.

“Oh my lord, I thought you were dead, I-“ Patrick’s ma continued fussing over her son, while some of the newsboys recovered from their suspended positions, and returned to receiving their breakfast. Tears were welling in Patrick’s eyes, but he kept holding them back, refusing to cry in front of the other newsboys, and his leader.

“Well, I tink dis counts as not dog crap.” Stitch appeared by Jack’s side, arms crossed, snapping him back to reality. By now, most of the newsboys had continued with their morning routine, and you would’ve never guessed that there was a family reunion happening in the middle of the sweaty, smelly, and still tired crowd.

“Yeah, I tink so.” Jack still hadn’t taken his eyes off the mother and her son, who was now reminding Patrick of his family. A tear had carved a pathway through the dirt on Patrick’s face, though he was quick to wipe it away.

“Let’s go home.” The mother embraced her son even tighter before releasing him. And, side by side, they parted with the newsboys. As they made their way up the street, Patrick turned around to face Jack and Stich, mouthing ‘thank you’.

“Kinda scary, ain’t it?” Stitch elbowed Jack, once again pulling him from the moment.

“What is?” The mother and Patrick became smaller and smaller.

“We did a good ting.” Stitch, arms crossed once again, faced Jack directly.

“How’s dat scary?” Patrick and his mother had disappeared into the New York buzz. Jack turned, returning Stitch’s conversational stare.

“I dunno, just kinda weird to be reminded dat dere’s still good in da world, just neva happens ta us,” Stitch sighed, “And it’s a bit odd, I neva tought one a my boys would leave. Dey usually leave when dey go off ta college, or dey get so old dat we gotta kick ‘em out.”

“Whaddya mean, ya miss ‘em already?”

“Nah, Patrick didn’t do much. I don’t know if anyone will notice, ta be honest. Jus weird, ya know?”

“I do now. But you’re right about da good ting. Dat’s what makes a newsie! ‘Least a ‘hattan one.” As any good newsie knows, you cannot meet a newsie from another borough without taking a jab at them.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the buildup was eminent in Stitch’s voice, “Bronx newsies are pretty different. We actually sell our papes. See ya round, Cowboy.”

Before Jack could even begin to process a rejoinder, Stitch had disappeared behind a building. Jack took one final look at the street, with no trace of Patrick or his mother, and finally took his place in front of the cart, receiving the stale, but still fresher than the rest of it, bread. As he bit into his breakfast, he contemplated the strange break in tradition, knowing that tomorrow, Patrick’s ma wouldn’t be coming. An unusual fault in the seemingly natural order that had been set for the newsies.

Jack noticed the thinning crowd around him, as the newsies began to herd themselves to Wiesel’s. Jack crammed the last of the bread in his mouth and began to follow, nearly forgetting about Patrick, as he continued on with his daily routine.

#newsies #newsies musical #newsies movie #newsies fanfiction #original character #original female character #please read this #jack kelly #patrick

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