#anti applesauce

[gillipop-plus]

edit: i meant bug lollipops im sorry T^T

[lover-of-mine]

The thing I find fascinating is that the show runners are fully capable of writing engaging couples. Henren, Bathena & Madney – their relationships are beautiful. And then we have Buck and Eddie with their respective LIs. It’s almost as if they want the relationships to fail.

This season, they had every chance to set up Tommy as a suitable LI for Buck. But they didn’t? They didn’t even have to show a grand love confession or the likes, but at least some small gestures. Them holding hands in the hospital, Tommy dressing up for the bachelor party, being a little more sensitive when they ran into Eddie during that first date… Just a few simple things that would have made all the difference.

I feel like most of the love for Tommy comes from headcanons the fandom accepted as universal truths, while there isn’t much in canon to support it.

This isn’t meant to be hate on the character (though it probably will be taken that way by certain people), it’s just that I don’t think he is a good fit for Buck. He’s guarded and deflects with a dry sense of humor, when Buck needs a person to be vulnerable with. You know, someone who is so soft and sickeningly sweet with him. So far, I didn’t get much of the sorts from Tommy. But then again, we didn’t get to see a whole lot of the relationship actually playing out on screen, so who knows.

And the other thing that started to bother me is about the daddy issue thing. There is nothing wrong with showing (or alluding to) a couple having an active/kinky sex life. In general, I’m all in favor of it.

But looking back at season one, Buck used sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism to feel a connection to people. And he doesn’t have the best relationship with sex to begin with (Remember 7x05 and the talk with Eddie, where it hadn’t occurred to either of them that saying no is an option? Doesn’t sound healthy to me.) If they wanted to set Tommy apart, they should have put all their efforts into building an emotional connection between the two. I’m not saying that sex can’t be a part of it - not even that it can’t be kinky - but that the show should have put much more emphasis on the emotional aspect of it rather than the physical attraction.

Maybe it’s just wonky writing due to a shortened season but the relationship between the two isn’t half as good as it could have been.

No, but I made a post about this during the s6-7 hiatus, because it's not like the show doesn't know how to establish a love interest, bathena and madney work because all of them exist individually and Henren was introduced to us in a way where we would side with Karen, so even tho Karen only exists to be Hen's wife we care about her in a deeper way because Karen has never done anything wrong in her life. With Buck and Eddie all of the love interests are presented to us with something wrong with them. Shannon never had a fighting chance because she left and Eddie himself was never sure about her, Eddie was dating Ana and Marisol because he thought he had to, and I'm not even gonna go there with Kim. Abby breaks every possible protocol to call Buck, and she's never in it in the same way Buck is, Taylor tries to take advantage of Bobby's addiction for her personal gain and continues to take advantage of him to get ahead, Ali is never there, Natalia is too interested in Buck's death and Tommy is callous. There's a weird metaphor in there, but the basketball scene, the way Buck hits Tommy and ricochets back and Tommy doesn't even flinch. Buck needs someone who will bend. But the show didn't even try to establish an emotional connection between the two of them, everything comes back to the physical and with a character like Buck, who was shown using sex as a bad coping mechanism, to constantly make it seem like this new relationship isn't going beyond the sex is concerning. There were better ways to imply they are having sex. Even more considering the way the show had the opportunity to make it seem like they are building some sort of emotional connection and just chose not to. Every scene we had with the 2 of them could be rewritten adding the idea that they actually care about each other beyond the attraction, and that's a choice. To go the route they went is a choice. I'm still not over the way they had Tommy not dressing up and then Eddie suggesting matching outfits in the next scene. Like, it was that easy because they showed Eddie doing it. And I don't wanna compare, but with the constant triangle formation and the way they were showing Eddie as the person who understands Buck and Tommy as the dude Buck is fucking, we have nothing happening in our screen that makes it seem like Tommy is even a little fond of Buck and all I can think about is Buck standing in front of a hot air balloon with a huge bouquet of flowers for a woman who referred to him as a boytoy. Buck deserves someone who's gone for him and none of his canon love interests gave me that impression. And they make a very explicit choice to not make that implication. They could've been something, but right now they aren't. If you just watch the show you don't know why they are dating. They are just there. And coming from a show that wrote bathena, madney, and henren, and the way that Tommy being a firefighter gives him a fighting chance because it's real easy to make him exist outside of Buck, it's on purpose.

[illusionshornss]

Introduction post thingy

I just realized I never properly introduced my blog so here we go.

Please note just because I don't ship certain ships if you ship those ships you are still welcome here, I've just had bad experiences with a few but as long as you are respectful you are welcome here :3

Hi my name is Via but you can call me Illusion as well :),I post mainly She-Ra stuff here (catradora and velocatradora)

I do alot of oc x cannon stuff too.

My toyhouse,Quotev and ao3

I post often,or well I try,I make a lot of silly little stories involving my characters,I have a toy house with some info on them as well.

I am also in a few other fandoms but I mainly post She-Ra:

Httyd

She-ra

Pokémon

The owl house

Avatar

Avatar the last airbender

Legend of korra

Steven universe

Wings of fire

Ninjago

Warrior cat's

Interact please!!!

She-ra fans

Adora fans

Catra fans

Catradora fans

Dragon fans

People who do oc x cannon ships(I post a lot of that here)

Eragon fans

Pokémon fans

Scorfuma and glimbow fans

Fanfic writers

Warrior cat fans

Wings of fire fans

Jasper fans

Thin ice

Glimadora/Glitra/Glitradora fans(You are still welcome here as long as you are respectful I've just had a few bad run ins with some people)

More will be added later

Do not interact

Catra antis/Haters

Adora Antis/Haters

Catradora haters/Antis

She-ra Antis/haters

People who change characters Sexualities (example people making Adora and catra straight or bisexual for fanfic/art(this includes oc x cannon or x reader, you will be blocked,they are cannon lesbians leave them alone)(-coming from a bisexual)

People who don't like Oc x cannon

More will be added later

Proshipers

Fetish artists

Weirdos(the bad kind)

[yikez]

me when I realise that for the past 5 or so years I've probably been having a yeast infection

[seagull9111]

I have a lot but my main at the moment is

catra applesauce meow meow

jason grace

bianca di angelo

Mine is Silena who’s yours?

[foone]

Imagine a butch who dates robotgirls and she's got the belt and carabiner "ready for business" look down, but all the stuff hanging from it is reverse-engineering tools.

A full set of screwdriver bits (including security torx and those weird tri-wing Nintendo ones), assorted spuders, those little rubber suction-cups you use to remove LCDs, a line flashlight, macro lenses, IPA wipes, chip pullers, portable hot air rework gun and a pinecil soldering iron, desoldering braid, a wide variety of ESD-safe tweezers, and one of those anti-stack wristbands but on a retractable lead like it's for walking a dog.

She left her backpack at home but it's got a stereo inspection station, a full set of lockpicks (including those tubular lock impresioning ones), and an aging ThinkPad with a bunch of USB adapters: every memory card format you can imagine, all the major hard drive interfaces, and even 3.5"/5.25" floppy disks thanks to a 3D printed enclosure with a greaseweazle flux imager (the Applesauce stays at home connected to her Mac Mini). A USB optical drive that can read and burn all the cd formats, and a as small plastic case of some blank CD-Rs, DVD-Rs, and Blu-rays. A bunch of USB flash drives, some blank, some preflashed with assorted tools and marked with little keychain labels: some linuxes, a warezed all-in-one windows installer, live distros for tails and kali and partionmagic and DBAN.

She's ready for anything.

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Twenty-Four Ko No Mono

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Cannibalism, Guns, Animal Death, Mental Heath, Desecration of Remains, Pregnancy, Vomiting,

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY-

Will twists in the throes of his fevered dream. A sound Gagging competes with his pathetic moan. Will finally awakens, disoriented. The Gagging comes again.

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BATHROOM- DAY-

Will in T-shirt and sweats as he opens the Bathroom door to find Y/N leaning over the toilet gagging. “Honey?” Will calls to her. She groans back, she’s donned in one of his T-shirts. He goes over to her and holds her hair. Rubbing her back. Once she’s done vomiting, Will brings her Alkaline Water and anti-nausea medication. “I’ve been feeling so sick lately.” I take the pills with the water.

“Do I need to-” I shake my head, “no. I think its just a stomach bug or something.” Will kisses my Forehead and brushes my hair out of my face. “Are you sure because-” I give him a look. He nods. He helps me up and takes me to the kitchen. He makes me some buttered toast and then there's a knock at our door.

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - DAY-

Will in a T-shirt and sweats as he opens the front door. ALANA BLOOM Is on the stoop with APPLESAUCE. Will's DOGS mill around them, saying hello. Will watches as she bends to pet them. “Do we do friendly visits anymore?” Will raises a brow. “This isn't a friendly visit.”

“What kind of visit is it?”

“I guess I'm trying to convince myself of something. Or maybe I'm trying to convince you.” Alana is pensive, thoughtful, struggling with confrontation. “Or maybe I don't know why I'm here.” Alana adjusts her stance. “I know why. You're worried I killed Freddie Lounds.” The statement is matter-of-fact and sits there between them. “Did you?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that's the wrong answer to tell somebody who is already wondering what you're capable of.” Alana says, the sound of breakfast cooking and the sound of soft singing comes from inside the house. Will smiles softly “Been wondering that for a while.”

“I know you're lying to me. You've slipped into some kind of skin and I think it fits a little too well.”

“I told everyone Hannibal was a killer and no one believed me. Just like no one would believe you if you said I was a killer.” Will's tone chills Alana. But she's brave and persistent. “I'm afraid, Will. But not of you. I'm afraid for you. I don't think Hannibal is good for you. I think your relationship is destructive.”

“But Hannibal's good enough for you.” Alana reacts to that, stung. Will tries to soften his remark. “You should be afraid. You're right to be afraid. I have something for you.” Will quietly goes inside and returns, brandishing A HANDGUN. “Whoever you're afraid of... don't be afraid to use it.”

Alana reacts in fear, then Will SPINS the gun on its TRIGGER GUARD and offers it to her. He holds her gaze. Alana takes the gun. And her certainty about him wavers. She sees the old Will for a second. “Takes 9mm rounds. Buy a box and find a range. Practice.” And he goes back inside. The door swinging closed behind him, leaving Alana alone in the cold.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

the fire flickering wildly. HANNIBAL placing it on the table in front of Will and Y/N. As the flames die down, we reveal THREE THUMB-SIZED BIRDS sizzling in their own fat and flesh.

“Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare-but debauched delicacy. A rite of passage, if you will. Each of the birds resembles an oval of butter with wings, feet and head still attached. Preparation calls for the songbird to be drowned alive in Armagnac. It is then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful.”

“Ortolans are endangered.” Will remarks. Y/N smirks, “Who amongst us is not?”

“I haven't been gorged, drowned, plucked and roasted. Not yet.” Will says as he gazes down at the birds who have met their fate in the stomachs of them. “Traditionally, during this meal, we're to place shrouds over our heads, hiding our faces from God.” Hannibal picks up one of the birds by its head.

“I don't hide from God.” Will and Y/N pick up their own birds. Raising them in a toast. “Bones and all?”

“Bones and all.”

Following Hannibal's lead, The couple place the bird in their mouth. As the flavor fills his mouth, Will nods in appreciation. It's clearly delicious, despite the CRUNCHING of tiny bones. Never taking his eyes off of them, Hannibal draws in the bird's head and beak, blithely crushing them between his molars before continuing. “After my first ortolan, I was euphoric. A stimulating reminder of our power over life and death.”

“I was euphoric when I killed Freddie Lounds.” Y/N says and then smirks. If only she was truly dead. “Tell me, did your heart race when you murdered her?”

Y/N deadpans, “No. It didn't.”

“A low heart rate is a true indicator of one's capacity for violence. One might say you are genetically predisposed to it.” Maybe he’s right. My mother was a serial killer, I hunt serial killers by thinking like them, and inevitably i have grown to enjoy the blood that runs down my hands. “This is my design?”

All teeth, starkly white in the chiaroscuro of blackened, scorched skin. With lips shriveled back, it's almost as though this death mask is grinning at us.

BAU - MORGUE - NIGHT-

The slab bears the burned body of an adult woman. Hair crisp like black hawthorn. Skin charred and cracked open. JIMMY PRICE and BRIAN ZELLER attend to the body. Will, Hannibal, Y/N and JACK CRAWFORD are there as well. “Orthodontics confirmed. It's Freddie Lounds. A little kerosene and fwoomp. Incendiary journalism. If she were burned alive, blood would have boiled out of her mouth.”

“No scabrous crust on her chin. Dead before the match was struck.” Jimmy says as he points it out. “Blood already pooled to the lowest points of her body. She'd been dead at least twenty-four hours.” Zeller says. “Freddie Lounds's ultimate failing was her inability to keep herself out of her own stories.” Jack says with a not sorry tone.

“Freddie had the longing need to be noticed. She was noticed.” Hannibal then leans close to inspect her corpse. “Severely-burned bodies tend to split along lines of musculature –” He points to a JAGGED OPENING along the corpse's back.”-- but this looks like an incision.”

“Cut out her psoas muscles. Looks like he used a hunting knife.”

“A peculiar trophy.” Hannibal glances innocently at Will who averts his eyes. “Why did he burn her?”

“How many people has Freddie Lounds burned in her career?”

“Whoever did this was not striking out against Miss Lounds's exploitative brand of journalism. This is something else. This is something sacred.” Y/N considers the charred corpse in front of her, then: “Freddie Lounds had to burn. She was fuel. Fire destroys, creates. It's mythical. She won't rise from the ashes, but her killer will.” Y/N says.

“He's the one to be noticed now.” Jack Crawford studying Will, Y/N and Hannibal...

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BATHROOM - DAY-

I pace me and Will’s bathroom anxiously, the scary thing is what im hoping for shows up. the "+" of a pregnancy test. The test wand droops in FRAME so that the positive result icon looks like an "X", Oh my god. Is this real? I look down at my non-existant belly and then back at the test.

“Oh my god……OH MY GOD!”

CEMETERY - GRAVESITE - DAY-

The freshly-dug GRAVE and its MOUND OF EARTH are dark against the surrounding snow. a WREATH commemorates Freddie Lounds, sat atop a COFFIN at the graveside. An intimate group of MOURNERS are seated under a canopy – family and colleagues. They face the PRIEST who presides over Freddie's inhumation.

“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

ALANA is watching the intimate group of mourners. But more interested in the cemetery beyond. She waits. At last, she sees what it is she's searching for: WILL GRAHAM

He's mostly obscured by a tree a dozen yards away, standing with Y/N. He notices Alana's gaze and approaches her. “Funeral was long at the chapel and it's long at the graveside.”

“I'm here to mourn Freddie Lounds. Can't imagine it's why you're here.” Alana says with slight distaste. “All sorts of reasons why I would go to Freddie Lounds's funeral. All sorts of reasons why you would go.” Will says as he grabs my hand, guiding me to his side. “Which reason are you here for?” Alana looks to me.

“It's common for a killer to revisit their victims after death. Attend funerals, return to crime scenes.” I say and Alana eyes Will, not amused. “Anyone suspicious?” She asks turning back to me.

“Besides Will?” I retort with a playful smile.

“That was implied.” She replies, still very clearly unamused.

“You were expecting me.” Will tilts his head with a slight furrow of the brow. “It's common for a killer to revisit their victims after death.” Alana repeats my notion. Will sighs taking a step forward. “I'm not here to dance on Freddie Lounds's grave, if that's what you're getting at.”

“Not here looking for her killer, either. Don't seem particularly interested in the crowd.” Alana says, I watch as she tries to analyze Will. “Are you profiling me, Dr. Bloom?”

“A psychological profile is nothing more than statistical probability. You here makes it that much more probable you're Freddie's killer.” Despite her doggedness in pressing Will, Alana looks away..”I'm here because my psychiatrist suggested it would be therapeutic.” As one, the mourners start away from the gravesite and Alana starts after them. She continues away in the cold.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Will observes the amber light trapped in a tumbler of Scotch. I sit observing both men. “I've been so preoccupied with taking a life, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the possibility of making one.” Earlier in the day I asked Will about the possibility of children.

Hannibal stops behind my chair, stroking the ends of my hair. “When men become fathers, they undergo biochemical changes that affect the way they think.”

“You said the same thing happens when men become killers.”

“Fatherhood is not always a nurturing role. Fathers can be killers. In protecting a child, things trapped inside a man for years fly free, ready to explode in pain. And dangerous behavior. What sort of father would you be?” Will reflects on that, imagining a different life.

“I would be a good father.” Hannibal smiles warmly. He imagines Will would. I know he will be. Even if he doesnt know about you yet. My little love. “Do you see a life flashing before your eyes that's not your own?”

“Yes.”

“What about you Y/N…What sort of mother would you be?” I think on it, Thinking back to my own childhood. about my brothers and my own Mother. My first victim….and the woman who made me this way. “Better than my own….I’d be better than her. Because No child deserves what i went through.”

“How quickly we form attachments to something that does not yet exist.”

“I'm not attached. I'm only anticipating attachment.” Will furrows his brows in thought. “We have a deep-seated need to interact with our children. It helps us discover who we are.” Hannibal says inquisitively. “Have you ever been a father?” Will asks Hannibal.

“I was to my sister. She wasn't my child, but she was my charge. Abigail reminded me so much of her.” That derails Will's train of thought, almost sobering. “Then why did you kill her?” I ask softly, thinking of my dead child as I grown my new one.

“What happened to Abigail had to happen. There was no other way.”

“There was. But there isn't now.”

“Would you protect this child the way you couldn't protect Abigail?” I lower my head, No one will hurt you My little love. Not ever. Will studies Hannibal, then: “I still dream about Abigail. I dream I'm teaching her how to fish.”

“I'm sorry I took that from you. I wish I could give it back.”

“So do I.”

“Occasionally, on purpose, I drop a teacup to shatter on the floor. I'm not satisfied when it doesn't gather itself up again. Someday perhaps a cup will come together.” Will considering Hannibal's words --

CEMETERY - NIGHT-

Reflecting bone white in the moonlight. TRACKING across them shows their eerie shadows as the world opens a new day. A figure looming, silhouetted in the morning rays, the definition of its outline inexplicable until its sunlit front, a ghoulish representation of -- SHIVA

In multi-armed splendor, the god of the Hindu pantheon. FOUR ARMS fan out on each side of the torso -- eight arms in total. The composite deity made whole via composite body parts strapped to pose in a state of après-mort meditation.

THE HEAD Appears much larger than a normal human skull -- a result of THREE HEADS being strapped together to create a singular monstrosity. The center head faces forward as the ones flanking it point in opposite directions.

A THIRD EYE Leers sightless from a HOLE gouged into the forehead of the center head. As the sun continues rising, its light reveals the impromptu Shiva's many additions and accoutrements adorn and emanate from a SINGLE BODY at its core – The charred corpse of the late-but-not-so-lam

CEMETERY - FREDDIE LOUNDS'S GRAVESITE - DAY-

ZELLER Moves to reveal the RICTUS GRIN of Freddie's corpse. He and Jimmy Price are processing the grotesque Shiva. Will Graham and Dr. Y/N L/N watches them silently.

“Extra parts were harvested on-site.” Zeller takes note. “Just one night in the ground. That beats Jesus by forty-eight hours.” Jimmy says with a slight smirks. “Never thought Freddie would make it to heaven, much less get deified.”

ALANA BLOOM Is walking toward the gravesite with Jack Crawford. Will and Y/N are standing before the Shiva. Jimmy and Brian see Jack and Alana and nod greetings. Will is impassive. Alana holds his gaze. Neither looks away. Then Alana's eyes are drawn back to the Shiva. Its funny how no one ever thinks it Y/N… Always Will.

“This killer is trying to get somebody's attention.”

“I don't think he wants to be found. He has direction. His chaos is getting more orderly.”

“First he burns effigies, then he assembles them.”

“Burning Freddie Lounds wasn't his first effigy. Whoever killed Freddie killed Randall Tier. Mutilated him, dismembered him, put him on display.” I listen, Thats where her profile derails….The person who killed Randall Tier and the person who Created his sculpture are two different people.

“What connection do Freddie Lounds and Randall Tier have?”

“Will Graham. Randall Tier was his suspect and Hannibal's patient.” Will reacts to this and crosses to Jack and Alana. “Freddie was investigating his murder when she died.”

“Freddie was investigating a lot of things when she died.” Will states with an incredulous look. “This is a psychopath who has incubated fantasies of killing and is translating them into action. He's building himself up. Or somebody's building him up.”

“He could have a benefactor who admires his destruction. Hindus believe that destruction leads to new life. Shiva is destroyer and benefactor.” I say turning into the conversation, I cover my tracks well enough to not be known. Though Will and Hannibal make it to where i would never get caught. “He's being guided”

“This is a signpost?”

“Maybe Freddie's killer didn't do this. Maybe his benefactor did.”

“Why?” ALANA dawning in realization. “It's a courtship.” Alana watches Will intently now, determined.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Will and Y/N Sit with Hannibal. “Every creative act has its destructive consequence.” Will considers that and is compelled to ask: “What you did to me, what you did to Abigail, was that a creative act or destructive consequence?”

“The Hindu god Shiva is simultaneous destroyer and creator. Who you were yesterday is laid waste to give rise to who you are today.”

“Rise and rise again and again, until the lambs have become lions.” I say softly.

“Yes.” Will studies Hannibal a moment, then: “How much reality has had to be slandered? How many lies have had to be sanctified? How many consciences devastated?”

“As many as were necessary.” Hannibal says Without a second thought. “You sacrificed Abigail. You cared about her as much as I did.” Will says. “More. But then, how much has God sacrificed?”

“What god do you pray to?” Hannibal regards Will as though the answer is obvious. “I don't pray. I have not been bothered by any considerations of deity, other than to recognize how my own modest actions pale beside those of God.”

“I prayed I would see Abigail again.” I say softly, My hands play with the end of my dress. Hannibal lifts my Chin. “Your prayer did not go entirely unanswered. You saw part of her. Should the universe contract, should time reverse and teacups come together, a place could be made for Abigail in your world.”

“What place is that?”

“You've lost a child, Will. It seems you're likely to gain one.” From behind Hannibal, the WENDIGO RISES UP IN SILHOUETTE.

“God is beyond measure in wanton malice and matchless in His irony.” But the Wendigo itself has TRANSFORMED as it raises its arms revealing, Shiva-like, FOUR ARMS per side -- A FAN OF EIGHT.

Will entranced not by Hannibal, but the thing behind him.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

Alana stands opposite a curious Jack Crawford. “What are you up to?”

“I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Dr. Bloom.”

“I think you know. You're not fooling me, Jack.”

“I'm not trying to fool you.”

“You're lying. You're all lying. Will. Hannibal. You're lying to each other and they're lying to you. This isn't in my head. You are hiding something and this will end badly for all of us.” Jack considers Alana's state and carefully asks: “What do you believe is happening?”

“What do you believe? Do you believe Will killed Freddie Lounds?”

“I do not.”

“Do you believe Dr. Chilton's the Chesapeake Ripper?” Alana feels as if she is going mad from all that has crumpled around her. “There was overwhelming evidence–”

Alana angrily interjects; “Stop lying. You think you've moved all your pieces around so cleverly.” Jack's eyes narrow, studying Alana. “What's changed, Alana?”

“I have no confidence that I know Hannibal Lecter anymore. Even with as much as you know or think you know Hannibal, you don't know him either. And you don't know Will. And I’m not sure anyone knows Y/N. You're going to lose, Jack. If you haven't lost already.” Jack stares a long moment, then: “I want you to come with me.”

BAU - CORRIDOR - DAY-

Jack leads Alana down the hall, toward the conference room. Every step Alana takes is filled with dread. Jack opens the door and he firmly ushers her through --

BAU - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY-

ALANA as she comes through the door. Jack following behind her. Alana follows his gaze and stops short, stunned. FREDDIE LOUNDS.

“How was my funeral?” Alana looks at Jack Crawford. Her eyes well up as the gravity of its meaning WALLOPS her. That she has been putting Will Graham in terrible danger.

MUSKRAT FARM - PIG BARN - NIGHT-

The barn is dark, but LIGHTS BURN on the raised platform. And OPERA MUSIC drifts toward us from the speakers. The maze is a BLACK MONOLITH in the center of the floor. RAISED PLATFORM Mason Verger sits in a wing-back chair, a SUCKLING PIG in hisarms, and he listens to the music as he strokes it.

He stands and looks into the dimly-lit pit, at the rooting PIGS, SNORTING and GRUNTING below him.

He raises a REMOTE CONTROL and changes the music -- the SUDDEN HORRIFIC SCREAMS ring out! “Carlo, I don't think they've had enough to eat.” Mason turns and is surprised to see Will Graham standing behind him. Mason shuts off the recorded screams, then:

“You must be the baby daddy. Excuse me if I don't offer you a cigar.” Will PUNCHES Mason, bloodying his nose. Mason touches the blood and examines it, then laughs in Will's face.

“I'm going to feed you to my pigs.” Will violently grabs Mason by the scruff of his collar and drags him off his feet and over to the pigpen opening. “Carlo? Carlo.” Will roughly pulls Mason to the edge and dangles him partially over the hungry, SQUEALING pigs below. Mason's eyes are more rage-filled than even Will's.

“No I’m not. I’m a friend. But do You think it was Margot's idea to have an heir? Think it was your idea to take it from her? My idea to come here and kill you? No….What you, your sister and I all have in common is the same psychiatrist.” Will drops Mason on the metal grating, hard. Mason gathers his wits, debating lunging at Will's back... then Will turns with a gun pointed directly at the prodigal Verger. “If Dr. Lecter had his dithers, you'd be wrapped around a bullet.”

Will tucks the gun back into his holster, adding: “He's the one you want to be feeding to your pigs…”

[arrayoflightarchives]

Array of Light Archives Intro

We are the Array of Light Archives! A very silly system that mostly just shit posts but we can occasionally be v funny and/or relatable if that's ur cup of tea :3

Pls feel free to read more, there will be an general info section and then more detailed information past the cut

It will probably be a lot as we ramble but there are key points highlighted in pink

General Info

-–— System Name: Array of Light Archives

-–— Collective Name: Kris or (sometimes) Array

-–— Collective Prns: He/Him

-–— Collective Identity: Trans = Bi = Aspec

-–— Body Age: 18

-–— Collective Interests: Bears in Trees ¦ Haikyuu, Sasaki to Miyano + other anime/manga ¦ Crochet ¦ Good Omens ¦ Bujo ¦ Marauders ¦ + a number of other things

Boundaries

DNI

General dni of bigotry, pro-ship, maps etc -> bigorty I'm meaning homophobia, transphobia, ablesim etc - basic dni shit

Endos + Pro-endo (mostly alright with endo-neutral, but more comfortable w/ those leaning more towards anti)

NSFW blogs

Fake claimers

Antis (anti things like xenogenders, neopronouns, furries, therians, alter humans and other kin etc, if ur anti those things dni)

Radqueers and Trans-ID

Syscourse specific blogs

Pro-Isreal stance

Other Boundaries

We don't mind some discussion of syscourse but that's not what the blog is abt so pls don't bring it too much here

Not mdni but just, we are legally an adult so pls try not to interact too much (one of interactions are fine) if ur under the age of 14/15 cause it feels weird to us sorry

We are traumagenic + mentally ill and therefore have triggers. We won't share them but if smt does trigger us, then it will be deleted sorry

Although we're a v punk collective, pls try not too bring extreme politics here

Pls don't dm us unless ur a mutual or have asked and we have given permission to dm before hand :3

Any questions abt dni/boundaries then feel free to drop an ask!!

Other Sys Info

We are a traumagenic OSDD system who have varying degrees of amnesia

We are autistic and adhd and have a history of associated mental health issues

We also have OCD and Emetophobia although that won't come up much

We are brainmade heavy although we still have many fictives from a variety of different sources

Feel free to ask any questions about the system or alters just know we might not want to answer - but most of the time we love talking about our system

Blog Info

General

We are neurodivergent so we will probably post abt that alongside our other stuff

This blog is probably abt half fandom posting, about 40% system posting and the last 10% is live logging or other shit like thoughts + opinions

Although that could honestly just change depending on frequent fronters

Carrd: (it's got some details but most of it is on here anyways but go have a look if you want)

Sideblogs

This will probably continue to grow -> they're all just alters personal blogs

@its-krisscross-applesauce -> 🐝

@omi-omi-says -> 🍙

@indis-vines -> 🌿

@rhye-bread -> 💯

Alter Info

@torii-ii -> 🖥️

@seb-lowe-loml -> 🌀

Hosts:

¦ Omi - He/Him - 23 - host and (angry) protector - sign off: 🍙

¦ Kris - He/Him - 17 - co-host and online social mask - sign off: 🐝

Other blog frequents:

¦ Kristian - He/Him - 38-40 - protector - sign off: 🐻

¦ Indi - She/They - 28 - caretaker - sign off: 🌿

¦ Rhyland - Xe/Fae/He/They - 16 - Symptom Holder - sign off: 💯

¦ Daisy - They/She - 16 - Social caretaker - sign off: 🌼

¦ Angel - Angel/Any - ageless - Gatekeeper - sign off: 🪐

¦ Dylan - He/Him - 17/18 - Protector + Academic - sign off: 🌀

Other sign offs you might see:

❓-> blurry or unsure of who's fronting

🩷 -> Liz || 🐜 -> Daniel || 🪨 -> Kiri || 🏐 -> Kenma || 🍊 -> Caiden || 🌱 -> Charlie || 📖 -> Elise || 🩹 -> Ghost || 📎 -> Alec || 🍷-> Mara || 🖥️ -> Tori

There are more people in our system and they will be added if they post anything but for now this is the list

If they have or make intro posts, they will be hyperlinked to their names so feel free to check them out but those will only happen if they decide to make one

We also have quite a few littles and they most likely will not be on here unless it is deemed okay by their protector

[landoftheocsmegablogformyocs]

Zaria (Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack Oc)

Full Name: Zaria Baker

Age: 25

DOB: June 19th

Occupation: Frozen yogurt cashier; amatuer writer 

Sexuality: Straight

Ethnicity: African-American 

Affiliation: Popov's Big Top Yogurt-Topia!

Relatives: Elizabeth Rover (mother); Anthony Baker (father); Geoffrey Rover (stepfather); Jacqueline Baker (stepmother); Richard Rover ( paternal half brother); Michelle Baker (maternal half sister)

Residence: El Paso, Texas 

Headcanon Voice Actress: Vivian Nixon 

Likes: Animated movies & shows; sweets; breakfast; reading; writing; singing; retro media ; flowers; scented candles, fragrance, & bath and body products; anime/manga; video games; pink ; thrift stores; book stores; kids; Afrocentrism; researching topics; marriage

Dislikes: Raisins; orange juice; nuts; chitlins; heights; bad writing; super spicy foods; applesauce; kid haters;divorce; abortion; rude customers; anti-marriage jokes; bad singers; bad research; people who diss pink; cheating

Background: Just regular Texan girl who works in the grueling world of the fast food industry, who is waiting to really sell with the children's books series she is trying to come up with. She is still reeling from the bad break up she had with her childhood friend turned boyfriend turned cheating ex, Ian. He's trying to to worm his way back into her life, while she forgives him she also still is not ready to let him be close to her again. Despite trying to get her series off the ground, she is not above looking for extra opportunities like helping with old college roomate, Shaun, with his script. She is a bit disappointed that others seem to have gotten somewhere farther than her in life since college, but also is happy at least for Shaun he's made it big. Her life although rather mundane takes a dive when she goes thrift shopping and finds a mystery vhs tape which she buys and takes back home. She then meets an unlikely friend that only she can see named Jack who used to be the host of an old 80's kid's show, who seems first to be friendly but shows he has more of a dark side.

Personality: On the surface people might think of her as being at first childish, but underneath she is much more smarter than people give her. She really tries to prove she can do what people all her life underestimated her as. She tries to have a lot of confidence herself, but at times she can doubt herself. She often feels her immature demeanor drove Ian away to find a much more mature person to deal with. She also feels like she really hasn't done anything big in her life like her classmate and ex are doing. As a result, she really loves the praise that Jack makes her feel at times while also being a bit wary of his more darker stuff. She also is very sympathetic to wonder what happened to him to make him that way and really wants to form a relationship with him while making sure he doesn't need to feel possessive. She's very touchy about relationships due to her parent's divorce which also didn't help when Ian cheated and made her even more wary of getting into relationships. She has a big heart for kids and it's a reason why she wants to write a children's book series and even one day settle with a family. She really treasures her loved ones and would do anything for them. 

* She's autistic 

* Her parents have been divorced since she was three years old. 

* College graduate with a Bachelors of art in Creative writing. 

* She has a strong Texan twang. 

* She wants to one day publish her own children's book series. She wants it to be a kid's horror series. 

* Her half siblings are still in high school. Richard is a senior while Michelle is a sophomore. 

* She and Jack will have two twin children and a second daughter. 

* Ian's cheating really stung her since she's a child of divorce and had to deal with tons of issues in her parents custody handling of her where they switched between months having her. 

* She is on good terms with both stepparents and half-siblings despite issues during divorce. 

* She was also doubly hurt because Ian was one of her more consistent friends in life due to how her autism made her stand out at times. 

* The flower pin was a gift from Ian back when they were dating. 

Created through picrew.me/en/image_maker/94097…

[coreyjaechicken]

So my rooster Wonky is a very sweet boy, he loves cuddles and is happy to just hang out with people, that being said he’s always been a bit rough with his girls.

He’s very intense with the wooing, lots of tidbitting and wing dances, unfortunately his girls just don’t like him so it never works.

He’s also shaped like a brick, photo’s don’t do it justice, you really have to be in person to how weirdly he’s shaped.

Especially compared to his brother, Norman.

Norman is a normal rooster, he’s shaped normally, he’s normal about mating if a bit disinterested, he’s actually kinda bad about the wooing.

All of this will make sense soon.

One morning Wonky doesn’t come out of the coop, he’s crowing but he’s not coming out. So we open the coop up.

Wonky is just sitting there.

On the floor.

He can’t or won’t walk for some reason, we automatically assume he either broke something, has a vitamin deficiency, or he’s sick. Honestly at that point it could’ve been anything, not walking is the symptom of just about everything and anything that can go wrong with a chicken.

So he’s brought inside, he’s all set up in a dog crate with a stuffed chicken toy for company, and I call the vet.

It’s Friday morning.

How likely do you think it is that the vet has an open slot on a Friday morning?

I ended up calling multiple vets, none of them being available, I just take the Monday slot our usual vet had open.

He’s babied all weekend, we are syringing him water because we can’t get up to drink it, he’s getting so many cuddles, Mom has started giving him honey and applesauce because they’re anti inflammatories and she’s hoping if it’s an injury it’ll help.

Monday morning Dad and I take him to the vet, it’s a two hour drive there and back, the drop off is at 8:00. That morning I have a job interview so like an hour after getting back I go to do that.

So point is I’m fucking tired.

The vet closes at five and they haven’t called us yet, protocol says that if they haven’t called yet just get there by five, so we leave.

About halfway there we get the call, Dad’s driving so he can’t answer, we just let it go to voicemail so we can listen to it.

And my god.

The voicemail.

We almost died because we started laughing so hard, lesson learned, never listen to voicemails while driving.

I have a recording of it but I haven’t gotten rid of the identifying information yet so you’re just getting a transcription.

Hi! This is Dr. [Last name] calling from [Place] Vet Clinic, uh… it does look like on the X-ray uh that Wonky’s… testicles… are quite large and I’m wondering if those might be impinging on his uh… nerves that run down to his legs. So uh… this is actually something that we see quite frequently in ducks.

There’s more to the voicemail but this is the important part.

My poor boy who hasn’t been able to move.

Can’t move because his balls were paralyzing him.

The vet hasn’t even seen it in chickens before, but she never mentions this being a thing in chickens, oh no no. She mentions DUCKS, she’s seen it in ducks before.

She tells us to call her back, so Dad pulls off into a McDonald’s parking lot and we call her.

We start talking treatment, and the first thing she brings up is something she introduces as an ILLEGAL PROCEDURE, which it isn’t really but my god could you have not introduced it in a better way?

Second option is to put him on anti inflammatories to see if it helps decrease his ball size.

Now what was the apparently illegal procedure?

Hormone implant.

The reason it’s an “illegal procedure” is because he can’t be put into the food chain after.

We went with the anti inflammatories first, they’re both cheaper and work faster, if they didn’t work we’d get him the implant.

He came home took his meds and he’s fine, he’s still inside because while waiting for the vet he got bumblefoot. So that has to be treated now.

But next year he’s going on hormones, because the vet thinks this will be a recurring issue.

By the way, he’s a year old, he’s actually past his most fertile age. So we have no idea why his balls decided to do this now, past his most fertile age and in fall, past mating season.

This will be his legacy.

Photos below taken after he was taken to the vet for the bumblefoot.

[applesauce-collective]

intro post !!

‼️ dni : anti endos, anti agere/petre, queerphobic, terf/swerf ‼️

hello and welcome to the applesauce collective! we are a questioning traumagenic system, and this is a sideblog we will use to organize our symptoms and alters.

here is our pronouns.cc !!

have a wonderful day!

[hana-bobo-finch]

I will forever be anti criss cross applesauce. That stupid pose hurts SO bad it makes my legs wanna fall off. Why are people taught to sit like that smh I will be over here contorting my legs in unnatural positions because it’s COMFY thank you very much

[feverinfeveroutfic]

hanukkahbingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter five : “Shadow of a Thousand Dead” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: latkes, applesauce, sour cream, anti-assimilation, smashing fascists 🔥 Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh

I awoke to the gray light of the morning outside, and the feeling of a warm little body right next to me in the bed. For a second, I believed that I had woken up back home in the safety of my bed and with my girlfriend in my arms. But the feeling only lasted for a second, and I remembered that I was in the grandparents’ house, and it was Christine had nestled up against me like a little teddy bear. I ran my hand down the middle of her spine to the band of her pajama pants: the thought still lingered in the back of my mind, the one that told me to keep my hands off her lest someone in her family find out about it at some point, whether it came about after I left or not.

She groaned in her throat as she buried her head right into my chest. Her hands had found their way down onto the seat of my pants for a good feeling: every so often, her fingers pulsated on me for a little squeeze. Whenever she did it, I curled my toes and snickered. The feeling was new to me, and I couldn’t help but feel tickled by it.

She gave me a squeeze, and I chuckled a little louder that time.

I knew the rain had died down a bit, so I could be heard in there, but I wanted her in particular to hear me, though.

“Like squeezing a ripe avocado,” she whispered. “A nice, full, round, sweet, delicious little avocado—” She squeezed me again, and I rolled away from her enough to where her hand rested on my hip. I looked on at her and the tip of her tongue tucked into the corner of my mouth. “You have such a nice butt,” she remarked.

“If you like my butt, then surely you like my belly, too,” I told her as I ran my fingers through my hair and pushed my head down into the pillow so she could see the edge of my jaw and the side of my neck as well.

“Beautiful neck,” she remarked in a low voice. “Very beautiful neck.” She inched closer to me with her fingers up to my neck for a little stroke.

“Don’t tell me you have a fancy for necks, too,” I quipped to her.

“For yours,” she retorted back to me; she pushed her head in closer to the side of my neck for a soft kiss on the side.

“Ooh, that feels good,” I noted.

“You like that?” she whispered into my ear.

“I love it so much—more—more—” She kissed me some more, right on the tender spot right on the spot between the nape and the edge of my shoulder. Her lips were soft, and she touched me with such delicacy that to compare it to the tips of feathers would just cheapen it.

“I love how sensual you are,” I said to her.

“It’s funny, I don’t think of myself as such,” she confessed right into my ear. She buried her nose and lips back into the side of my neck, which only made me relax even more. The rain may have died down a bit, but I was feeling so cozy.

“I really don’t want to leave this bed,” I confessed to her.

“And I don’t want you to leave, either,” she whispered to me. Her hand slid down my chest and down onto my belly, and I realized that I had slept without a shirt on all this time.

“You should wear those leather pants again,” she suggested.

“Wear them after I eat all of the gelt, the latkes, the rugelach, the kreplach, and the sufganiyot and the waist band is so tight after that?” I teased her.

“Wear them after you eat all of that, and you also get tied up in lace and latex, too,” she added with a little flick of her eyebrows.

“I’m kind of intrigued by this whole… thing that you’re into,” I confessed to her. “It’s interesting and I find it tickling me whenever I think about it, too. Wanting to see me with a little extra weight on my body to the point I have a little belly going.”

She hung over me so her short red hair dangled down over the side of her head and face, like a little cherry wave from a primordial ocean. Her eyes twinkled from the mere suggestion of it all. Not only had she woken something in me, but I had a hunch that I had woken something up in her. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through her short hair so I could see her whole face.

“And it’s hanging over the belt of your pants, too,” she quipped with a slight gyration of her head. “I wanna feed you and feel you and keep you all to myself. I want to hide you in the closet and sneak you out when my mom isn’t looking.”

I cracked her a playful little smile at the sound of that.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” I remarked, and my voice broke with sleep. “But I have to keep a life of my own or I’ll wither away. My parents will be worried sick about me.”

“But we’ll take good care of you, though,” she promised me. “We’ll tell your parents that we’re taking good care of you, especially when you have very little places to go after this.”

“That is… so, so sweet, Christine,” I told her with a slight shake of my head upon the pillow. She leaned into my face for another kiss, that time on my lips. I thought about what she had told me the night before, in that she would want to kiss me all the time, and that was all I could think about, as well.

She lifted up and gazed straight into my eyes, and a rich warmth swept over me like the wave of hair upon her head. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through my hair, the little ringlets on the right side, right underneath the streak. I showed her the tip of my tongue and rested my hands upon my chest.

“I want you to say it,” she whispered to me, and I caught the sound of the rain on the roof once again, albeit at a rather soft pace.

“Say what?” I asked her.

“That you’re sexy,” she replied.

“That I’m sexy?” I chuckled.

“You’re really sexy,” she confessed as she tucked a stray ringlet behind my ear. “I swear, if you my age, I would want to be with you all the time. If you were my age, I would have my hand tucked into your back pants pocket just so I could feel your nice little ass.”

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Would you?”

Christine brought her lips to mine again, that time with a bit more spice and a bit more force as well. She had a hold on me, an absolute death grip on me, like the blizzard over the Rockies. She was making the feelings inside me swell like the cold waters which gathered around the property and the base of the hill. I couldn’t help but let my chest rise up from the feeling. My heart pounded inside of my chest, and she held onto the sides of my face with nothing more than the tips of her fingers.

She let go and gazed into my eyes again. My head spun and my heart hammered inside me. I could feel myself firming up in between my thighs, and all I could do was lay there with my eyes locked onto her.

“You look so good,” she cooed to me with a sweet smile on her face.

“This is—so good,” I gasped out, and I had no idea what came over me right then. “Kiss me—please, Christine, kiss me. I need it, and you need it. Kiss me and feel me. I want you to feel my hair, too. I need you. I need to feel you.”

“And I need to feel you—” she whispered back to me.

She kissed me again, that time with that same force as well as her hand tucked in at the back of my head: her fingers entwined around the roots of my hair and she gave me a little tug at the back. She moved her lips down to the side of my neck for another tender little kiss. I closed my eyes and rested my hand on the small of her back.

She lay down on top of me, and I could feel her heart was pounding as well. I lifted my fingers off her back just so she was the one feeling me.

I gave myself to her.

It was all I needed, the feeling of someone loving me and nourishing me, and I couldn’t believe that I was going to have to leave it all behind me at one point. The feeling was silky and soft, and it only left me feeling even warmer than I had the mere few hours before then.

Christine rested her knee on the side of my hip, as if she was grounding me right there in the bed.

For a second, I had forgotten everything that brought me up to that point. I had forgotten about all the times I was up on stage with a leather vest and I left it open for everyone to see my skin and the hair on my chest. Right as I thought that, she ran her fingers down my chest. She stroked the fine little sprigs of hair with nothing more than the tips of her fingers. It was as if she had read my mind and knew exactly where to touch and feel me.

Most of all, I had forgotten my ex. In fact, I forgot I even had an ex to begin with: all I knew about was Christine, her precocious power and passion. She lightly caressed me and held me, as if we had known each other for far longer than a mere twelve hours. She nestled down next to me, and she used my body as her pillow. I was her rock right then. I was her crutch, and I was more than happy to be that for her as well.

She never did stop kissing me as well, even after she lay back down next to me with her hand rested upon the side of my neck.

“Oh, that was wonderful,” I breathed out to her as she lightly stroked the hair at the very top of my head. “Where did you learn to make out like that?”

“All of the times that I made out with my hand,” she replied. “I also thought about the times I considered making out with my ex, too.”

“He would have been so lucky,” I confessed to her. She sighed through her nose at that, and I rolled my head over the top of the pillow for a better look into her eyes and the wistful look in them. “He would have been so—so lucky,” I repeated, that time in a low whisper of a voice.

“By the way, I love how your voice gets all husky and soft whenever you feel good,” she noted.

“It does?”

“Oh, yeah. It almost feels like you're whispering a secret to me. It also helps that you and I are laying in bed together, too. I notice you talking like that last night.”

“Well, 'cause there's no power in the house. Anything we say or do is going to be heard, and I remember you telling me just that last night, too.”

“Sound travels in this house as if the walls are made of copper tinfoil,” she replied with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “And by the way, I also love how warm you are, too.”

“It's what I get for being a soft boy, eh?” I joked to her.

“You are soft!” she replied with a little tap of the tip of my nose, and then she put her arm around my waist. “Very soft, indeed.”

“Christine?” Wendy's voice floated in from the hallway right then. Christine herself meanwhile, closed her eyes and sighed again.

“Is the door closed?” I asked her in a low voice.

“Yeah, it is...” With a groan, she let me go and sat up in the bed next to me. She climbed out of the bed by the time her mother called her name once again.

“Yeah?” she called out.

“Where are you?” Wendy followed up.

“In here!”

“Where?”

Christine reached for the bedroom door and flung it open, and right as I was getting out of bed as well. Luckily for the both of us, she only had to adjust her pajama pants where I had to fix everything on me in order to appear decent. I hoped to whatever that her mother did not get the wrong idea about us, and especially about me—

“Oh, there you are!” Wendy declared as she strode up to the doorway. “I didn't see you in your room and I wondered if you and Alex had gone out walking together.”

“No way,” I assured her as I slid my legs out from under the covers; I cleared my throat as I thought of an excuse right as she walked on up to the door. “I was telling Christine when she came in here a little bit ago that I didn't want to leave this bed because it's so warm and it's all so cold in here, too.”

“It really is! Is that why the door was closed?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Christine assured her with a nod. “I came in here earlier and he was like 'close the door! It's freezing in here!' and so I did.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“What time is it, by the way?” I asked Wendy.

“It's seven thirty,” she replied. “But I was going to ask you kids if you wanted some coffee from the market a few blocks from here.”

“Ooh, I definitely would,” I said as I rubbed my hands over my upper arms. I turned my attention to Christine. “Have you seen my shirt?” And she shook her head. I peered over to the desk on the other side of the room, where I spotted my coat but not my shirt, however.

“Maybe you oughta go without the shirt,” Wendy suggested. “You know, just wear your coat over your body and have nothing more than your pants, too.”

“Yeah, and with my hair down like this, I'd look like Michael Hutchence,” I said with a chuckle, but I decided to do just that regardless of my own insecurity, though. I slung the coat around my body and ran my fingers through my hair.

“So hot,” Wendy remarked with a little twinkle to her eye. It apparently ran in the family as I had a hunch that she liked me as well. I didn't really want to dig deep into that because I knew that she and her husband were separated but not properly divorced: I needn't have that on my conscience as well. Nevertheless, I followed the two women out to the hallway, which was still somewhat dark despite the sun having risen up and the fact that we no longer needed hurricane lanterns and candles as far as I knew.

I fixed the lapels of my coat and took a seat at the kitchen table: I moved my coat around so only the top part of my chest was exposed to the two of them as well as the grandparents. My own freedom aside, they needn't see me like this, and not when there was a lot to do in that house to serve as a proper distraction, either. I kept my left hand tucked into my pocket to keep my coat closed off, and my right hand rested upon the table before me, and I watched Wendy put on her boots and her jacket as well before she headed out to the rain.

“It's not that far,” she assured us with a shake of her head. “I'll be right back.”

“We'll be here,” I promised her with a little smile; she scooped up her keys and ducked out to the rain, which still fell in utter droves out there. I was curious if there was any sort of flooding down the road from us as well. I then turned to Christine, who took her seat right next to me: her red hair seemed to shimmer under the gray light, and I couldn't recall her skin appearing that creamy smooth, either.

“We got anything to nosh on?” I asked her.

“Nosh?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah. Like something to eat before breakfast, or before your mom comes back with the coffee. Don't tell me you haven't noshed before.”

“I've noshed, I've noshed,” she insisted with a nod of her head, and then she sauntered over to the table and rested her hands on the edge furthest from me. She leaned forward so I could only see a small window of her chest right then.

“Nice try,” I told her, and she glanced down at her chest.

“Nice try what? You don't like what you see here?”

“You need a top with a lower neckline,” I said with a straight face. “I do like it, but... if you're going to do that, wear a top with a lower neck, though. You know, I want to see more of the boobs, not just a tiny little peek the size of my thumb. Besides—” I took a glance over my shoulder to the gray shadows right behind me: her grandparents were still sound asleep in the room at the far end of the hallway; I remembered we had to put the screen back onto the window near the back door as well. I then returned to her, still with a straight face. “I'm a leg man.”

“You're a leg man?” she asked me with a grin. “Well, why didn't you say so?”

She hoisted her left leg up onto the chair next to me and lifted up the bottom of her pajama pants, to which I giggled at her.

“Hey, now, you gotta have the proper clothing,” I said.

“I'm in proper clothing!” she insisted as she rolled it up to her knee.

“Nah, you need like fishnets or something to accentuate all of this...” I gestured to her, and then I let my eyes wander onto her, onto the curvature of her lower legs as well as her ankles. I was a bastard for thinking about it, but I pictured her in shorts, and I had a feeling she was going to do something for me before our time was up here at the house.

“Question,” I started again, and I kept my voice low again lest her grandparents hear us in there.

“Hm?”

“Do you have any pedal pushers?”

“Pedal pushers, like... capri pants?”

“Not really,” I said with a shake of my head. “They're kinda fitted and they only go to your knees. They're—dare I say—hot. They're quite hot.”

“Like you and that coat of yours?” she teased me back, and I gave my hair a little toss back with the flick of my head. I let the coat sling open so she could see more of my chest.

“I guess you could say that,” I told her with a little shrug of my shoulders.

“You guess? You guess or you know?” She pressed her hands to her hips, and she straightened out her spine so her chest was so prominent right before me.

“Man, your mom wasn't exaggerating, you do have a thing for me,” I teased her, and she giggled at that.

“What, did you think that those kisses I gave you were all lies?” she retorted back to me.

“I never said that,” I assured her with a shake of my head, and I couldn't resist laughing, either. It had been quite some time since I had a playful debate like this with someone else, let alone a girl, that I could not help but laugh to myself.

“But you did imply it, though!” she insisted, and she began laughing as well.

“What do you mean? That I have some sort of secret that I'm harboring for you?” I ran my fingers through the ringlets on the side of my head.

“You could be,” she teased me, and she set her foot back down on the floor so she stood before me like Wonder Woman.

“Like what?” I asked her as I leaned back in the chair, and I let the coat open up for her to see all of me. Just like the leather vest up on stage with Testament.

“Maybe you like me,” she answered.

“Of course I like you,” I quipped to her. “I mean, that should be obvious. I mean...” I glanced over my shoulder again, and then I returned to her. “I let you kiss me and sleep in my bed with me.”

“Hey, now, I didn't just kiss you but I also held you and rubbed that little belly of yours.” She wagged her finger at me as if she was lecturing me.

“Plus, you've been flirting with me and looking at me all wide-eyed this whole entire time. I mean, it's no secret to me.”

“Back up, I thought this was about you, not me,” she chided.

“Yeah, it is,” I replied with a straight face. “It just makes sense to bring you into the fold because you're the one doing all of the action.”

“What, you're passing the buck onto me?” she asked me with her hand pressed onto her chest.

“Yes. Yes, I am! You came onto me, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but you let me come onto you,” she quipped with another wag of her finger. “It's not all about me, after all.”

“I think it is! You wanted to get close to me because your mother was right and you have a thing for me.”

“And you don't have a thing for me?” she demanded with a flutter of her eyelashes and a slight raise of her head.

“I never said I don't,” I assured her as I ran my fingers through my hair again, and I couldn't resist the smile on my face. She cocked her head to the side, and she stepped on closer to me, and all the while, her hands never lifted off from her hips. She stood right before my knees, and I wanted to know what exactly it was that she thought right then. I nibbled on my bottom lip, while she ran her tongue along her top row of teeth.

“You really do look like Michael Hutchence,” she told me, and I gave my hair a quick flip with the flick of my head.

“I'm not as good of a singer as him, though,” I pointed out.

“You ought to be,” she suggested. “I can just imagine you singing with this really sexy, really husky baritone, all dressed up like this, too. You'd make my teenage dreams come true in a hot flash.”

“Well, I'd have to take singing lessons and really step into my own, neither of which are a walk in the park, especially the last one. Ever since my breakup and when I left my band, it's been a tall order to try and find my footing, especially within myself.”

“Shall I help with that?” She stooped over before me and even though her chest wasn't all that exposed to me, I still let my eyes wander there. “Eyes up here, big boy.” She pointed to her face.

“'Big boy', that's something I haven't heard before,” I said to her, and I couldn't help but laugh again.

“You really never believed you were a big boy?” she teased me.

“Of course I did. I mean, I practically dwarf you and your mom, of course I know I'm big.”

“No. I mean... you really never believed you were a big boy?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip again, and that time, she dropped her gaze to my body. I followed her gaze and I realized she was looking at my lap.

“Yeah, you, me, and my leather pants,” I told her; right as she glanced up, I flashed her a wink.

“Will you wear those again?” she asked me.

“Maybe. It depends.”

“It depends on what?”

“It depends on what you wanna do here while you're face to face with me. You wanted to help me find my footing.”

“Of course,” she replied, and she kissed the tip of my nose, which caught me by surprise. She giggled and showed me her tongue.

“Ah, yes, a nice game of 'kiss the schnoz',” I said with a straight face, and she burst out laughing at that. She stood up before me for a second, and then she ran her fingers through her red hair.

“Man, and I thought I was saucy,” I muttered.

“It's funny 'cause I wasn't always like this,” she told me.

“Neither was I! It's like when we get together and everyone is still asleep, we bring out the—what we call in my family—chutzpah in each other.” She paused for a second, and then she gazed on down the shadowy hallway, and my heart skipped a few beats as a result. “Are your grandparents awake?” I asked her in a low voice close to a whisper.

“I don't think they are,” she confessed, also in a low voice. “I just thought they were.” She then returned to me with a flex of her eyebrows again as well as a slight twinkle in her eye. “Yeah, I guess we do bring out the—what'd you call it again?”

“Chutzpah. A bit of—” I stood up before her, still with the coat wide open for her to see the hair on my chest as well as my bare belly. “—walking around like you've got it and I want it. Or rather—” I pressed my hands to my hips. “I've got it and you want it.”

“Or perhaps I've got it and you actually want it,” she retorted back to me with a gentle stroke of my chest. She licked her lips at the feeling of my skin, and then she moved her hand back up to my chest hair. “You have really sexy chest hair. I didn't think I was all that enticed by a guy's chest hair, especially when my dad used to be all thick with it when I was little, but... here I am. Feeling attracted to chest hair.”

“Go ahead and touch me,” I insisted to her, and she used both hands to stroke me. She wound some of that hair around the tips of her fingers, which felt a bit better than her hands on my belly but I wasn't going to complain or split hairs.

“I like how it's just these cute little tufts all over your chest,” she remarked.

“Would you rather I have a full rug on my chest like that of a gorilla?” I asked her, and she wrinkled her nose and giggled at that.

“Nah, this is—this is kind of perfect, actually,” she confessed. “In fact, it's... it's making me all tingly.”

“It's making you tingly? It's making you tingly where?”

“You know where,” she replied.

“Oh, you mean—below the equator,” I said. “In the heart of the deepest pits of the Dead Sea.” And she snickered at that; right then, I caught the sound of her grandfather saying something.

“I think they're awake,” I told her, and she took her hands off of me and sniffed her palms. “Wow.” I raised my eyebrows at that.

“Would you rather I took my hands off of you and put them down my pants?” she retorted to me, and I nibbled on my bottom lip at that.

“I ain't telling you,” I quipped to her, and she giggled at that.

“So that was perfect is what you're telling me?” she asked me as I closed the top three buttons of my coat to have some modesty before her grandparents came into the room right then.

“It was interesting,” I said to her with a slight flutter of my eyelashes to her, and she snickered and sniffed her palms yet again.

“Mmm, smells like a boy,” she told me; she turned her head towards the hallway, and then she turned her body away from me, and I could only assume that her grandparents were coming down the hall. I sank back down to the chair while Christine made her way over to the sink: for a second, I believed she was going to wash her hands, but she got herself a drink of water instead.

The front door then swung open, and I was greeted by the smell of the rain as well as fresh coffee.

“Ah, the two best smells in the world right there,” I declared as Wendy nearly stumbled into the house; I strode on over to her to help her out with the cardboard carrier and the four cups of coffee: I noticed she held one in her hand as well.

“Phew—” Once the door was closed, she stripped her hood off her head and gave her hair a shake.

“Wet?” I asked her.

“Quite,” she replied. “I forgot to ask you how you like your coffee so I just got you a plain espresso.”

“Oh, that's okay! I like me some espresso.”

“It's the one closest to you, and I should also say that—” I raised my eyebrows to her. “The airport is still closed,” she told me. “The clerk in the store told me about it and I knew I had to tell you once I got back home. And I feel like it’s going to be closed for another day, too. I mean, it is just pouring rain right now, like I'm amazed there hasn't been flooding outside.”

I sighed through my nose, and I picked out my cup of coffee from the bunch before I set it down on the kitchen table for Christine and her grandparents. I then doubled back to the front door and I peered outside to the street as well as the drenched yard. What snow had fallen had completely gone at that point, and at least it wasn’t snowing again, but the sheer amount of rain that was falling out there only made me all the more concerned about how and when to get on home to my parents. It was Sunday, and the sands of the hourglass dwindled down with every passing second.

I had no idea if these people had a menorah on hand or any sort of candle that lit up with oil.

I couldn't stop thinking about it, either, such that I neglected to bide the grandparents with a simple good morning.

“So, if the airport is still closed for the next, say, couple of days, that means he misses the first night of Hanukkah with his parents,” her grandfather followed along, to which I sighed through my nose yet again. I sipped on the espresso, only to feel the first twinges of hunger within. I turned my attention to Christine's grandmother, who strode up next to me with her cup of coffee as well as a glass of water.

“Are there still mashed potatoes?” I asked her.

“Oh, yeah, there’s plenty,” she replied, and then her face lit up. “We want some of those potato pancakes, don’t we.”

“Yeah, we do,” I replied to her, and I could feel my own face growing warm.

“Well, once we've had a bit more coffee, we'll fire up the hot plate and slice up some onions and get the olive oil out, and we could have some latkes.”

“Do you have applesauce or sour cream, too? I like mine with either one.”

“I think we do!”

“And I think we do have some oil candles, too?” Wendy assured me as she strode on into the room from behind her. “We’re probably going to be lighting candles every night for the next couple of days, anyway. That is until they get the power lines fixed, and we aren’t relying on a hot plate and some open flames, as well. They’re these little white candles, too—I'm not sure, but I feel like they're like the ones you would see on a menorah.”

“Oh, perfect!” I said, and I turned my attention to the hearth on the other side of the room. Right in between the framed photographs of Wendy, Christine, and other members of the family as well as a small wreath of orange leaves, acorns, and pine cones, stood a blank spot that looked to be big enough for a row of candles for a makeshift menorah.

“Do you have nine?” I asked her. “A menorah has nine in order to be kosher: four on either side followed by the shamash in the middle, and it’s gotta be offset from the other ones a bit.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “We could have the eight lined up on the hearth, and then the ninth one can be pushed back a little bit.”

“You're a guest in our house,” Christine's grandmother told me with a hand rested upon my shoulder. “The best thing we can do is make this place feel like home for a while.”

“Thank you,” I told her with a little bow of my head and a sip of my coffee. I then returned to the kitchen where Christine and her grandfather were in fact starting up the hot plate and gathering the potatoes out for the latkes. It wasn't going to be like those from my mom or my grandmother for that matter, but I wasn't going to turn them down for nothing, though.

There was in fact a jar of applesauce there in the kitchen, and I was eager to have a nice little plate for that morning as well as the cup of warm espresso. Once I had taken my seat on the couch in the living room to see how the makeshift menorah would look, for a second, I really did believe I was back home with my parents and my grandparents. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that I was a teenage boy again back at my family's house right outside of New York. No sooner had I sipped on my coffee again when I thought about calling my mother again to tell her what was happening.

And no sooner had I thought that when there was a knock on the door.

“I'll get it!” Wendy declared, and she doubled back past me to the front door. She opened it to reveal a short man with salt and pepper hair wrapped in a beige coat.

“Hello, dear,” he greeted Wendy, and all I could think about was Sir Anthony Hopkins right then.

“Kenny!” Wendy gasped.

“Dad?” Christine sputtered, and she stalked out of the kitchen to see what was the matter. Her grandfather followed suit with a plate of latkes and a bowl of applesauce for me.

“Here, son,” he told me. “Happy Hanukkah.”

“Thank you so much,” I whispered to him, and then he turned his attention to the front door.

“Oh, hello, Kenny, what’re you doing here?” he greeted him rather coolly.

“I got caught in the makeshift swamp right outside here, and I remembered that this is my in-laws’ house,” he said in a single breath, and he barged in like he owned the place. “Smells good in here, what's cooking?”

“Something that doesn't involve you,” Wendy scoffed as she closed the door part of the way to keep any more cold air out of the house; and then he turned his attention to me, to which he curled one side of his lip at me.

“Who’s this funny-looking little runt?”

“Kenny, he’s not funny-looking!” Wendy insisted; Christine slid next to me and hunkered closer to me. Kenny frowned at me and pressed his hands to his hips. I swallowed and shifted my weight. It had been some time since I had experienced something like this before, with my ex’s father looking down at me because of the streak on my head and the full bulbous tip of my nose, and the fact that I was eating latkes fresh off the griddle with a little bowl of applesauce to the side.

“You keep your hands off my daughter,” he warned me, and I swallowed at that.

“Dad, he’s a good guy,” Christine assured him, slightly heated.

“Alex is a sweet guy!” Wendy exclaimed.

“I’m just here because I can’t get home otherwise, sir,” I sputtered out, and I held my plate of latkes close to me.

“I hope that's all you're doing,” he told me in a curt voice.

“Alright, get out of here,” Christine's grandfather ordered him. “Until you start talking to my daughter again like a mature adult, I don't want to see you, I don't want to know you, I don't want to know anything about you.”

“One hand on my Christine and you're target practice for me,” he warned me with his finger right in my face.

“That's enough!” Wendy snapped, and she tugged him aside and escorted him back outside. I turned my attention to Christine, who then shook her head.

“I have no clue how he got here,” she confessed to me in a low voice.

“I don't think anyone does,” I assured her with a shake of my head. “I'm just glad he's out of here.” And she nodded at that. Wendy returned to the living room, whereby she shut the door behind her and locked it. She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a low whistle before she stood in front of the two of us.

“I'm so sorry,” Wendy told me, to which I shook my head. “Well, now you know why he and I are separated.”

“It's okay,” I assured her. “No, really! I've seen plenty of assholes in my day.” And she snickered at that. “The one thing that got me about him was it just totally caught me off guard is all. I also want to know why he was here, too.”

“How he got here, too,” Christine added.

“Yeah, that, too. Well, at least he didn't kill me. I can eat knowing that I survived it.” And with that, I took a bite of latke, and I nodded my head at that. “Oh, yeah, that's the stuff right there.”

[shirefantasies]

Soo... how'd the surgery go? Still hurting? My family and I are all resistant to all but like 2 painkillers so my wisdom tooth recovery was wild, I can't imagine what I'd do if I needed any other kind of surgery. Hope you're doin ok!!

Oh shit that’s wild anon I’m so sorry 😭 can you have anesthesia/sedating during procedures at least? My grandma has trouble with it but luckily we aren’t biologically related so I didn’t get that gene 😥 Pain is worse today but not to doctor’s “cut your head off” bad yet 💀😂 the medication they prescribed is luckily working on me. Had some cooled soup today which was a nice change from all the popsicles, applesauce, & pudding! Feeling off, but more energy than I would have thought though since sleep was kinda wacko (woke up every 2 hours or so)! The procedure went well though, the worst part was how nervous I was having to wait at least 30-45 minutes with a catheter thingie in my hand & being super stressed & crying lol. They gave me & hug & a video game though & I apologized for being a neurodivergent baby. The anesthesiologist was SUPER NICE though when he came in & when I got back there he asked me to describe music I like. They said he was also a DJ & had me name a band. I instantly thought of a certain song by that band that seemed good & that was the one he happened to play! Stress & anti-anxiety stuff they gave me that made me laugh a little combined into me getting super touched & emotional about that song, then I immediately fell asleep 😂😂😂

[aimmyarrowshigh]

Chag Hanukkah sameach, everyone! We have 20 great works for the sixth night of Hanukkah! There's still time to create some fanworks for the bingo and get your winner graphic at the end! :)

The works are listed below in alphabetical order by title.

A Story of Survival by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Bingo Squares Being Filled: N4 - Survival, H4 - G-d Rating: General Warning(s): None

a very spidey holiday dinner by aelisheva/@dumpsterbagel | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Marvel, Spider-Man Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Peter Parker (Peter 1, Peter 2, Peter 3) Bingo Squares Being Filled: N2 - Family Rating: General Warning(s): None

A Wonderful Night by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Original Character Bingo Squares Being Filled: N3 - Rabbi Rating: General Warning(s): None

Anti-Assimilation by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers Bingo Squares Being Filled: K4 - Anti-Assimilation Rating: General Warning(s): None

Eight Nights by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes Bingo Squares Being Filled: K1 - Candles, U2 - Sufganiyot, U4 - Winter, U5 - A Great Miracle Happened There, A4 - Smashing Fascists, H3 - Gelt, A1 - Applesauce, K4 - Brisket Rating: General Warning(s): None

The Eighth Night by abby_gaytes/@erin-gilberts | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Ghostbusters (2016) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Jillian Holtzmann is the POV character, but all of the Ghostbusters are Jewish or Jew-ish in this one Bingo Squares Being Filled: A2 - Snow, A5 - Eighth Night Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Family by Hollie47/@hollie47 | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Glee Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Rachel Berry Bingo Squares Being Filled: K1, U1, N2 Rating: G Warning(s): None

The Family We Choose by skylarkblue/@wardinpanties | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Runaways Jewish Characters: Gertrude Yorkes Bingo Squares Being Filled: N2 - Family, K1 - Candles, A5 - Eighth Night, N4 - Survival Rating: G Warnings: Implied Past Abuse

K1. Candles - Violet Baudelaire by aimmyarrowshigh/@aimmyarrowshigh | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Violet Baudelaire, Sunny Baudelaire, Klaus Baudelaire Bingo Squares Being Filled: K1 - Candles Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

K2. They Tried To Kill Us, They Failed, Let's Eat - Han Solo by aimmyarrowshigh/@aimmyarrowshigh | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Star Wars, Star Wars Original Trilogy Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Han Solo, Leia Organa Bingo Squares Being Filled: K2 - They Tried To Kill Us, They Failed, Let's Eat Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

K3. Brisket - Monica Geller by aimmyarrowshigh/@aimmyarrowshigh | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: F•R•I•E•N•D•S Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Monica Geller Bingo Squares Being Filled: K3 - Brisket Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

K4. Eretz Yisrael - Booker | Sebastien le Livre by aimmyarrowshigh/@aimmyarrowshigh | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: The Old Guard Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Booker | Sebastien le Livre Bingo Squares Being Filled: K4 - Eretz Yisrael Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

K5. Mishpukhe - Eddie Munson by aimmyarrowshigh/@aimmyarrowshigh | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Stranger Things Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson Bingo Squares Being Filled: K5 - Mishpukhe Rating: T Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

May It Never End by CharlotteCordelier | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: MCU, Captain America Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes Bingo Squares Being Filled: Free Space Rating: G Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Mir Veln Zey Iberlebn by CharlotteCordelier | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Martha Wayne Bingo Squares Being Filled: Free Space Rating: G Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Remembering by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: The Boston Girl - Anita Diamant Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Addie Baum, Ava Miller Bingo Squares Being Filled: A4 - Remembrance Rating: General Warning(s): None

Roses by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Bingo Squares Being Filled: A3 - Kosher Rating: General Warning(s): None

Spelling by bugsandcoffee/@bugsandcoffee | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Captain America/Marvel Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Bingo Squares Being Filled: N5 - Hanukkah vs. Chanukah Rating: General Warning(s): None

Viemos afastar a escuridão. by nevermindirah/@nevermindirah | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: The Old Guard Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Booker | Sebastien le Livre Bingo Squares Being Filled: Free Space Rating: T Warning(s): None

Winter Wars by soupypictures/@yessoupy | AO3 | Tumblr

Fandom: Band of Brothers Jewish Character: Joe Liebgott Bingo Squares Being Filled: Winter, Survival, Smashing Fascists Rating: Teen and Up Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

[k--havok]

For the space-themed asks:

⭐️ Star - Do you have a favorite character? If so, why are they your favorite?

⭐️ Star - Do you have a favorite character? If so, why are they your favorite?

Oh god this is such a hard question 'cause I love ALL my characters, but for different reasons. I'm going to cheat and choose multiple favorites 'cause that's just how I roll.

Rane & Korzan

This is going to be obvious but it's Rane. Of course it's Rane. She's my absolute baby and the first D&D character I made by myself without (too!) much outside help I had my partner help me when I decided to multiclass her into paladin hahaha

Rane is incredibly special to me and I pulled a lot of inspo from different sources to make her. She's a magical girl. She has PTSD. She's been betrayed by those she loved most. She struggles controlling her anger. She loves makeup and dresses. She's ok with being doused in blood. And she's even pansexual.

In a lot of ways, she's a character I needed when I was young, need now, and will need in the future. She's feminine, a badass, has mental health issues and complex flaws, but also tries her best and has good intentions. I love her so much and she is just so special to me.

The Tales of Ozoarth

Ttoo has an ensemble cast and is a collection of different storylines rather than one story. The cast has only grown since its inception and is considerably large with nearly 10 main characters across different storylines.

I love a lot of the characters and it is so hard to choose a favorite. But I am going to try and go with Braxous, since he is the character that spawned the world and everything around it.

Braxous is an old character. He is now over 15 years old and has gone through a lot of changes since I first made him. He is a huge comfort character for me and helped me a lot through school and beyond.

He's 100% a self-indulgent edgy OC. He started that way and he will always be that way. His past is complicated, and he has complicated relationships with those who raised him. He was abused growing up, manipulated, and in turn, he became a monster early on.

He's a murderer. A betrayer. A liar. Every adult failed him in his life. He was manipulated beyond belief. Borne into a cult and later blamed for following blindly.

He's completely fucked in the head. He enjoys killing people. He loves violence and fighting. But he also loves taking a rest. The world stopping for a moment as he catches his breath.

He loves applesauce and sweets. His mouth and teeth are messed up so he mainly has to eat soft foods. He spends most his cash on buying gifts for friends and bailing them out of trouble. He has killed children.

He's protective of those he cares about, but keeps them at an arm's distance as he does not want to hurt them. He knows his lifestyle is dangerous. He knows he's bad. He's a living weapon; a blade for others to wield, and does not see himself as a real person. He wants to protect his loved ones not just from danger, but himself. But in turn, despite his passion, his relationships are always shallow.

He's an utter contradiction. Depersonalization made form. An anti-hero that crosses the line into villainy more than once. And I absolutely love him.

Waking into Divinity

Now this is a harder one than the other 2 'cause I adore both Casrath and Rylie. But I think I'm going to lean more toward Rylie as I did take a lot of inspo from myself while creating them.

Rylie works a dead-end job and suffers from depression and anxiety. They have little passion in life. They're boring. They know they're boring. Just like most people are a little boring.

But they do have passions. Wants. But all of it is smothered by fear. Of the unknown. Of what could be. Of failure. It rules their life.

Casrath is a catalyst. And although Rylie's life is turned upside-down when they meet and form a relationship with them, Casrath does not cure Rylie's depression and anxiety. He does not chase away any fears of theirs. Casrath brings out the best in Rylie; their passion, their interests, and highlights their personality.

But ultimately, its Rylie who climbs out of their abyss alone. Casrath helps them, but through him, Rylie finds themself again. And finds who they are and what they stand for. And I think that's what makes Rylie oh-so special to me.

--

This is so freakin' long and I apologize for rambling so much!! I just really love and find a LOT of comfort in my OCs so I can talk about them for HOURS. Thank you so much for the ask!!