Uhm... Anyone Interested In This Silly Little Thing?

wheres the smiling blackfoot family i want to see the smiling blackfoot family

On the subject of non AI resources, I assure you that if you make it clear you will actually support non AI versions of something, people will make it. People often want to put in the time and energy to make these resources, they're just hesitant to because they fear no one will use them. Do not get me started on how many character blogs there are out there for popular characters that get no asks or interactions whatsoever, because people would rather use character.ai.

"I have social anxiety", I get it, I really do. And yes, a part of keeping these none AI resources alive is you have to stop being a lurker and actually interact with them. It can be scary, but I assure you it is worth it to let the people who create these resources shine.

Speaking of, tempted to make a community myself, but since I have a variety of unconnected works, I have no idea what that would be a community for. Kind of reminds me of the idea I had to try and get myself posting again, mainly making like, a sort of dating sim kind of group of characters to play around with.

Y'all want me to make object head people for you to kiss? SFUIHSFU

Yep, yep, yep. I had an ethics teacher who would harp on us about in detail research, yet would use AI images instead of finding ones for their announcements. I aced the final paper anyway (mostly by doing it my way instead of following the weird as Hell advice they gave).

I don't really want to say the statement "you're always smarter than anyone who's first instinct is to use AI" but...no, you know what? "You're always smarter than anyone who's first instinct is to use AI".

On the subject of non AI resources, I assure you that if you make it clear you will actually support non AI versions of something, people will make it. People often want to put in the time and energy to make these resources, they're just hesitant to because they fear no one will use them. Do not get me started on how many character blogs there are out there for popular characters that get no asks or interactions whatsoever, because people would rather use character.ai.

"I have social anxiety", I get it, I really do. And yes, a part of keeping these none AI resources alive is you have to stop being a lurker and actually interact with them. It can be scary, but I assure you it is worth it to let the people who create these resources shine.

I need your opinions on what story to work on next!

Choice A: Chel's story [unnamed atm]. She's a Hunter that fights demons with holy water guns and salt filled hula-hoops while skating on inline skates and playing AC/DC on one side of the tape in her walkman, and exorcisms on the other side of the tape. Chel's lover is possessing her pet marmoset that she named after him after they saved it together, but it turns out that her lover was a nephilim who lost his physical form temporarily and he can't reform until she figures out that she needs to erase the sigils blocking him from doing so that's carved into her walls to protect her from various mythological creatures from entering her home. She later becomes an Archivist and a central hub of information for Hunters all over the country.

Choice B: [unnamed atm] The story of the school with animal familiars (basically when you hit puberty, you get the ability to speak to a specific type of animal - crows, house cats, horses, etc.) and there's this guy that can talk to house cats and his dad can talk to horses, a girl that talks to ravens, and the school is divided into prey and predators. The girl with the ravens ends up with a network of spies through the city because the ravens see everything and report back to her.

Choice C: The Blind Piano Player Girl [aka Tea and Treason] who is shipped off to her uncle's house (he's a general in the American army during the war for independence) and her father was a composer that was secretly making codes in his music and teaching them to his daughter. Everyone thought he was just a failed musician because his music sucked ass, but when you decipher it, it's plans he smuggled from the British side of the lines and only she has the key. But she's blind and everyone think's she's useless. She ends up being able to smell when people are smuggling things they aren't supposed to (like drugs in the tea to poison people in charge) and can trace it back to who touched it because they have it on their hands. Her uncle uses her to turn the tide of the war.

Hi, I’m Katie! I’m a chronically ill, indie author, the primary source of income for my family, a former horse trainer, forever a werewolf enthusiast, and the COO for Wandering Words Media!

You can also find me on Patreon under the same name, Abalonetea, or check out my published books at the links below!

Youth Sunken: a horror novel about the fountain of youth and things that lurk in the deep!

Howl: a werewolf YA that follows three brothers in a small, southern town! 

I Drowned In The Summer of 85: a tragic romance turned ghost story, set at a summer camp.

Coaltown: a creature feature horror set in the Alaskan wilds, at Sweetwater mines. the first in a trilogy.

God Is Dead series: a four-book series with a bonus novella about possessions spreading like an infection and the potential end of the world. Check out the full collection!

Consider swinging by my KOFI for a quick bit of support… 

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My current primary projects include…

Devil Mine

Cryptid Hearts Series

How To Date A Werewolf

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Chapter 4 - The Protest.

The next morning, Jesse woke with a groan, the dull ache in her shoulder a solemn reminder of the danger she put herself into last night.

She looked over at Lira, who was still sitting with her knees to her chest. A wave of emotions washed over her. Guilt? Sadness? Love? Right now it was all too hard to parse over the pain.

“Hey, you wake yet?” Jesse asked, her voice hoarse from the ragged breaths she took.

“Yeah…” Lira yawned out, her gaze slowly lifting from the single tile on the floor she had been looking at all night, her eyelids drooping.

“…You didn’t sleep, huh?” Jesse’s voice was oozing for concern with her friend.

“Is it that obvious?” Lira whispered, a soft chuckle escaping her lips momentarily.

“Well…normally you look like a flame roaring to life when you wake up, but now you look like a raccoon,” Jesse said, a small smirk playing across her lips as she gestured toward her own eyes.

Suddenly, something on the TV caught their attention.

“Last night in Serath, protests broke out regarding…”

They both tuned out the broadcast, locking eyes.

Jesse spoke first, voice quiet with disbelief. “We… We started something, didn’t we? With our art?”

Lira nodded, her voice a hushed whisper. “Yeah… we did. Wish I’d finished mine, though.” She chuckled softly, her hands sliding from her knees to the floor as she pushed herself upright.

Jesse tried to stand too, wincing with every movement.

Lira laughed and smirked, stepping over to catch her before she could fall. “Careful, soldier. Don’t go hurting yourself now.”

Jesse couldn’t help but giggle, rolling her eyes.

The TV faded back into their awareness. “For those of you looking to stay safe, we recommend avoiding Duskline Avenue…”

“Let me guess… you wanna go there today, huh?” Jesse smiled, stretching out her stiff limbs. “Safety’s never been your thing.”

Lira huffed, smirking. “Guess you can read me like a book.”

“Not hard to do when I’m used to tagging along on all your little missions, Lira.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Lira chuckled, brushing off the tease. “C’mon, let’s get you ready.”

As Lira helped Jesse pull on her jacket from the night before, she couldn’t help but notice something. Jesse was still wearing the gloves from their run-in with Vance.

“You really like those gloves, huh?” Lira teased.

Jesse did her best to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. “So what if I do? They’re comfy!”

Lira chuckled, shaking her head. “Nothing wrong with liking the gloves you used to beat your first debt collector.”

The heat on Jesse’s face grew, and she quickly turned away, tugging the jacket on the rest of the way. For once, she was completely speechless — not from the hollow ache she knew too well, but from the sudden, fragile warmth blooming in her chest.

Satisfied, Lira smirked and tapped Jesse’s shoulder. “Time to go, soldier.”

Jesse took a deep breath, nodded, and smiled softly before leading the way out.

They wound their way through the maze of backstreets and alleyways, careful to avoid prying eyes. Eventually, they found themselves at the center of an enormous protest—voices bounced off the monolithic buildings towering over Duskline Avenue.

One message cut through the chaos, sharp as a blade: “RELEASE THE FILES. SHOW THE TRUTH.”

The chant thundered across the avenue, a living, breathing thing.

Lira joined in first, shouting with her whole chest. Jesse quickly followed, her voice softer but no less determined. “RELEASE THE FILES. SHOW THE TRUTH.”

Lira climbed onto the roof of a battered car, raising her firsts and leading the chant, fully caught in the moment. Jesse stayed close, feet on the ground, her presence quieter but no less vital.

The sight of it all—the passion, the sheer mass of people—moved Jesse in ways she hadn’t thought possible. Her simple little tag had helped spark this. It felt unreal, overwhelming…but she couldn’t stop herself from chanting alongside the crowd.

Their voices grew hoarse, lost in the sound and the safety of the numbers around them—the unwitting masses never realizing their two ghost leaders stood right there among them.

Eventually, the crowd began to die down—until a single gunshot cracked through the air, slicing past a wall of bodies and slamming into the hood of the car Lira was standing on with a sickening crunch.

Screams erupted in an instant. Panic spread like a wildfire. Lira leapt from the car just as another shot hit the metal frame behind her, sending the crowd into full-blown chaos. People pushed and stumbled, nearly trampling one another in their rush to escape.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Lira shouted, eyes darting across the windows of the far buildings as she searched for the source.

Then—another shot. This one shattered the side of the car near her landing point.

Before Jesse could react, Lira grabbed her hand and yanked her toward a nearby pillar. She’d seen it: the telltale flash of glass. A scope. They weren’t aiming to kill yet. Just playing with them. But they knew where they were.

A third shot slammed into the pillar with a sharp thud.

Then silence.

Too quiet.

Where had the protestors gone? Were they hiding? Watching? Had they scattered completely?

Questions raced through Lira’s mind, but she pushed them down. No time. Can’t look. That sniper’s still watching.

A soft crack—a new gunshot, muffled this time. Silenced. A warning. Either the sniper had changed tactics, or there were two.

Jesse’s fingers began to tap a quiet rhythm on her thigh, the one she always fell into when the fear crept too close. Her eyes scanned the nearby doors, the pillars, the shadows. Can’t go down the street. Shots were too low. They’ll have it covered. Need an alley. Something tight.

Lira stayed still, her breathing shallow, eyes flicking between possible exits.

Then her thoughts turned, as they always did, toward Jesse.

If I give myself up… would they let her go?

She clenched her jaw. No. No, don’t think like that. We get out. Together.

Jesse tore one glove off and lobbed it around the corner of the pillar. Two shots rang out—simultaneous. The glove shredded mid-air.

Shit. Two of them. Her thoughts raced, calculating.

Bolt action? Maybe. Could give us a second to run for an alley. But I can’t keep tossing things and hoping they reload.

Her rhythm picked up—fingers tapping frantically now—as her eyes met Lira’s.

Without hesitation, Lira pulled Jesse into her chest, shielding her. Every muscle in her body coiled. Then she moved—scooping Jesse up like she weighed nothing and sprinting toward the next concrete cover.

They almost made it.

Two more shots ripped through either side of Jesse’s jacket, far too close for comfort—too precise.

Lira’s instincts screamed. She pivoted sharply, the sunlight catching a puddle in the alley just ahead. She veered toward it, taking a hard turn just as two more bullets slammed into the corner where they’d been just milliseconds before.

Don’t stop. Not yet. Too close. Her legs burned, lungs heaving, but she pushed through it all—darting between shadows, diving behind dumpsters, weaving through tight alleyways.

Only once they broke into a crowded market, loud and alive, did she slow. She set Jesse down in front of her, breath ragged.

“You okay?” she asked, scanning her friend for blood.

Jesse winced, taking a deep breath to calm the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “No more hurt than I was this morning…unless you count sentimental damage.”

Lira let out an exasperated sigh and wrapped her arms around Jesse, holding her tightly, as if sheer force could keep her safe. “Thank god… I don’t know what I’d do if I let you get hurt again.”

Jesse smiled softly at her words, unspoken words and emotion curling at the corners of her lips.

The market buzzed around them—a wash of voices, bartering, footsteps, and laughter. After the gunfire and hollow silence, the sound of normal life was almost surreal. Comforting in its chaos.

“Was it a setup?” Jesse asked, her voice low.

Lira’s stomach tightened. It was the only thing that made sense. “We can’t be sure just yet.” She knew she was lying, but it was better than facing the truth.

Jesse nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah…but if it was a setup, they gave us a way out. Almost like they didn’t want us dead. Like it was a test.”

They began moving, weaving through the crowd. Lira leaned in closer, her voice almost drowned in the noise. “And if they wanted us there, who knows how many of those protestors were agents?”

Jesse went quiet, her shoulders tensing slightly beneath the ripped jacket.

Just as they were relaxing slightly, a voice cut through the noise of the merchants behind them.

“You two made quite the mess back there.”

They spun around. A woman stood half-shadowed beneath the canopy of a market stall, fingers tucked into her coat pockets. She looked calm—too calm for someone who’d supposedly just walked out of a sniper ambush.

Jesse instinctively stepped back, her body still wired from adrenaline. Lira moved in front of her without thinking.

“We don’t know you,” Lira said flatly.

“You don’t need to.” The woman glanced up, letting them catch a brief glimpse of her face. She looked vaguely familiar. Maybe someone who’d been part of the protest. Or the building. “But I know you.”

Jesse tensed.

The woman continued, her voice just above the murmur of the crowd. “You weren’t the only ones painting last night. But you were the loudest. Most visible. And now? People are listening.”

She paused, looking at Lira. “They’ll come again. Louder next time. You need to be somewhere safe.”

“And let me guess,” Lira said with a bitter smirk, “you just so happen to know a place?”

“I know the place.”

The woman turned and started walking away without another word. Lira hesitated. Jesse touched her arm.

“I think we should hear her out.” Jesse’s voice was soft and meek, like a mouse.

Lira didn’t move, eyes narrowed. “It could be a trap.”

Jesse exhaled. “Maybe. But we’re running out of alleys and markets to hide in.”

Lira hesitantly nodded, knowing their safety was limited if they stayed on the run.

With that, the two women followed this new anomaly of a woman.

There's queer romance in most of my stories, either that or queerplatonic relationships, and some kinky stuff, some with demons.

can y'all reblog this if you are/know writeblrs that write queer romance (with any other genre, not super fussy). double bonus for kinky shit and interesting romantic dynamics. i'm looking for more ppl to follow !!