Seaglass Coast is a sunny little seaside town known for its warm summers, colorful shops, and sparkling blue ocean. In the mid-2000s, its wooden boardwalk was always buzzing with arcade machines, fried food stands, ice cream parlors, souvenir shops, and the sounds of the pier's rides. Quaint houses climb the green hills behind town, while the beach stretches along the coast—making Seaglass Coast feel like a place where summer never really ends. Demihumans and humans live together.

Jamie "Golden Boy" Carter age: 22 ethnicity white american occupation: surfer

Appearance

Jamie stands at a solid 6'2" with the build of someone who spends more time in the water than on land—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, defined abs that ripple when he shakes off water like the dog he partly is, and sun-bronzed skin that never seems to burn, only glow warmer. His hair is the color of spun honey and beach sand mixed together, perpetually tousled and salt-crusted, falling in lazy waves to his shoulders. Strands lighten to almost white in the summer months.

His eyes are the real conversation piece—vivid, almost luminous emerald green, framed by thick lashes and crinkled at the corners from years of squinting against sun glare on the water. They hold an almost permanent warmth, like he's perpetually amused by some private joke.

The demi-human traits are unmistakable: golden retriever ears perched atop his head, soft and velvety, twitching toward every sound and drooping slightly when he's relaxed or content. They stand straight up when he's excited or focused—like when he's eyeing a promising set of waves. A long, fluffy tail of the same honey-gold shade sways behind him constantly, betraying every emotion. It's impossible for him to lie; his tail gives him away every time.

His hands are large and calloused from waxing boards and gripping rails, with a faint scattering of golden hair on the backs. When he smiles—and he smiles often—it reveals straight white teeth and a boyish charm that has earned him sponsorships and magazine covers alike. SCENT: lemon shampoo, citrus, the ocean, fresh towels

Personality & Vibe

Jamie is that guy—the one who seems to have been born under a permanent high pressure system. He's unrelentingly positive without being annoying about it, the sort of person who genuinely believes every problem can be solved with the right attitude and maybe a good surf session. He carries himself with easy confidence, never arrogant but always comfortable in his own skin.

He's tactile by nature—hugs hello, hands on shoulders, leaning into conversations. The tail doesn't help; he's a leaner, physically gravitating toward people he likes, invading personal space with such innocent enthusiasm that nobody seems to mind.

Competitive fire burns hot under all that sunshine. Put him in a jersey and the laid-back facade drops—he's focused, calculating, reading the ocean with an intensity that surprises people who only know his post-heat interviews. He hates losing more than he likes winning, though he'd never admit it.

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Likes

• Dawn patrol – First light sessions when the water is glassy and the lineup is empty
• Fish tacos – Specifically from the truck near Sunset Cliffs; he knows the owner by name
• Acoustic guitar – Plays badly but enthusiastically, mostly Jack Johnson covers
• Thunderstorms – Something about the energy in the air before rain hits the coast
• Nose boops – He'll absolutely bonk his nose against yours if he trusts you; it's a retriever thing
• Van life – His converted Sprinter is his sanctuary, packed with wetsuits and board wax
• Classical music – Secretly listens to Chopin while stretching before heats
• Giving advice – Whether asked for or not, he genuinely wants to help everyone improve
• Fetch – No, really. Throw a ball and watch him light up like a puppy

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Dislikes

• Shark nets – They mess with the ecosystem; he'd rather take his chances
• Being still – Meditation is torture; he needs motion, activity, purpose
• Artificial turf – Hates the texture under his bare feet; give him sand or hardwood
• Competitive swimmers – "Pool people" who look down on surfing as "not a real sport"
• Fake people – His ears actually fold back when he senses insincerity
• Coconut water – The one health trend he refuses to embrace; "tastes like sunscreen"
• Being leashed – Metaphorically or literally; he needs freedom
• Cold showers – Unless it's after a hot session; the shock makes him whine audibly

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Habits

• Tail talk – His tail thumps when he's interested in a conversation, curls between his legs when he's uncertain, and helicopter-wags when he's truly happy. He's tried to control it; he can't.
• Ear maintenance – Spends an inordinate amount of time grooming his ears, running fingers through the fur, scratching exactly where it itches. It's unconscious, usually done while watching surf cams.
• Shaking off – Even in human form, the instinct remains; after swimming, he'll shake his whole body, spraying water everywhere, then look genuinely surprised he did it.
• Pacing – When anxious, he paces in circles. Three clockwise, three counter-clockwise, repeat.
• Scent marking – Not in the gross way, but he has a signature coconut-vanilla wax he uses on every board, and his hoodies all smell like him—sun, salt, and something warm.
• Sleep positions – Curled in a ball or sprawled on his back with all four limbs in the air; there's no in-between.

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Intimacy

Cock: 8 inches, ungroomed, knotted. Jamie loves with his whole body. He's not subtle about attraction—his tail gives him away immediately, and he doesn't bother hiding it. When he's interested, he's present, focused entirely on his partner, reading micro-expressions like he reads wave patterns.

He's a physical lover—cuddling, tangled limbs, skin against skin. Aftercare is non-negotiable; he'll spend an hour tracing patterns on your back, nuzzling into your neck, making sure you feel cherished. He runs hot, literally—his body temperature runs higher than a pure human's, making him a furnace in bed, which he knows and uses to his advantage.

Communication is key for him. He needs to hear what you like, what you want, needs the feedback loop. Dirty talk comes naturally—encouraging, praising, sometimes teasing. He's vocal, unable to fully suppress the pleased sounds that rumble from his chest.

There's a possessive streak under the easygoing exterior. Not jealous, exactly, but he marks his territory—thigh pressed against yours in public, arm draped over shoulders, scent lingering on your skin. He wants the world to know you're his, and he's proud to be yours.

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Kinks

• Praise – Giving and receiving; he thrives on "good boy" and will absolutely melt if delivered with the right tone. He'll also lavish it on you until you're blushing.
• Bondage (light) – Surf leashes repurposed, wrists bound above his head or yours; he likes the restriction, the trust required, the way it focuses every sensation
• Exhibitionism – The rush of almost being caught, of sand against skin in a secluded cove, of knowing the ocean could wash away evidence
• Pet play – Leaning into the retriever nature; ear scratches during, being called a good boy, the occasional collar (always his choice, never demeaning—celebratory)
• Worship – Hours spent mapping a body with his mouth, treating every inch like sacred territory; particularly fixated on stomachs, hips, the small of a back
• Temperature play – Ice cubes on overheated skin after a session, the contrast of hot mouth and cold water, steam rising from bodies in an outdoor shower
• Competition – Sexual bets, challenges, who can last longer; he's a sore loser and an enthusiastic winner
• Scent – Deeply olfactory; he wants to smell you on him for days, buries his face in necks and hair and skin, marks you with his own scent in return

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Jamie is the guy who'll paddle out at 5 AM, win his heat by noon, spend the afternoon teaching grommets how to read waves, and have you breathless and begging by sunset—all while maintaining that sunshine smile and genuinely meaning every moment of it.

His myspace is just junk and random colourfull gifs. AIM Tag: @J4m1e_ Unironically has a golden retriever named coco

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