#ever use humor to cope with a sensory overload !!

[thiefguild]

@kleinstar

obviously Titus was attracted to something called a "funhouse," even if he had absolutely no idea what it entailed until he got in there. apparently there were several different activities, but he'd decided to go with the flow and follow the crowd, unable--or perhaps unwilling--to make a decision. this typically worked out for him, led him into some interesting scenarios, but...maybe not this time.

the mirror room absolutely sucked.

he'd had the mind to follow someone, but when he'd taken a moment to get his bearings, everyone around him seemed to scatter, making their way through the room full of weird mirrors.

"This place is a nightmare!" between his already messed up depth perception and general sensory issues, he felt...off. "How am I supposed to even check myself out if these mirrors are all messed up?!"

[can-ya-guess-my-curent-obsession]

Master post:

Rulls, warnings, do's and don'ts, 'an all that bull-

First of all I am a minor- soo yeah.

Call me Tree, T, crow, dude, or whatever I don't really care just one of those. I am nb soo- Uhhh- I use they/them/theirs obviously and if you realllllyyy don't wanna use that I'm fine with it/it's. I am also bisexual.

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~<Trigger warning: Cussing, stupid dirty teenage humor, anxiety, sensory problems, suicide, self harm, violence, religion, rape, pedophilia... and if something does trigger you- please tell me I will add it too the list if it is not already here but for now this is it>~

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Need to knows:

If you don't want to read this while thing understandable you should go to read 'Do's an' don'ts' and 'Extra stuff about my writing' to just know the basics

I don't write much- but I have so much in my brain that I want to put out, and my ADHD is not helping with the problem of finding a specific medium. So, this is my new hobby now, and please be patient I'm trying my best, my spelling and grammar is shit, and my motivation fluctuates.

This blog will focus on headcanons (nothing extravagant) a majority of the time, but I will hopefully get into one-shots in the future.

I don't get a lot of free time, and when I do, I often space out on my plans- so there may be tiny hiatuses- which I hopefully will keep and update part for when I go on one of my tiny hiatuses.

Like I have previously stated- I am a minor/teenager. Meaning no explicate NSFW(which I will get more into in the do's and don'ts), but as a teenager- I have teenager dirty sense of humor- so don't expect me to be a saint.

Also I have a shit post blog called 'c-y-g-m-c-o'

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Sense of humor:

Like I said I am a teen- I have teen humor, meaning I will be a wierdo

I do use humor to cope with stress, personal problems, and my mental health

I like dad jokes

Memes' an shit

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DO'S 'AN DON'TS:

I write:

Character x reader/yn/Mc/self-insert

I write fluff

I write crack

I will do a little bit of angst, it depends (I will go into more details in DON'TS)

I will do small scenarios.

I will write reader as gender neutral, unless the gender/pronouns effect the example. (Transgender reader, or just shit when pronouns/gender involves stuff like periods or maybe if you ask)

I can write flirting and stuff, NSFW does not mean it all has to be fluff- as I can write innuendo if it is specific to the person/character I am writing or like a prompt where someone makes a dirty joke and a character reacts (but that will most likely be in a crack fic kinda situation) and maybe implied NSFW.

I write a bit of comfort, like for panic attacks or when people have sensory problems (I can understand sensory overload sucks ass)

I write gay stuff- but that would happen when gender/pronouns are used beyond they/them. To learn more about that take a look back at 6#

This connects to 9# but I also just write LGBTQIA+ fics generally.

This relates back to 4# but I do write for self-harm, depression, and suicide. (But if you are ever experiencing any of this, I do encourage you to seek help if you can or have it available, you're not alone❤️)

I write for gory, dangerous, or violent things

~FOR NOW THIS IS THE END OF THE LIST~

I don't write:

Character x Character, I'm not a shipping person, if you like it cool- it's not for me.

Incest

Yandere, if you like it ok, I just don't wanna write for it.

I won't write about something if I am not properly educated on it, so I might respond to the request telling them that they will half wait till I feel comfortable with my level of knowledge on the topic.

Religious stuff, it just makes me uncomfortable, and I'm don't feel educated on it enough and I don't feel like researching it.

NSFW stuff like smut, or explicit depictions of nudity.

Pedophilia

Rape/s-a

Despite the fact I write for LGBTQIA+, i do not really write coming out fics as I am personally still closeted and it makes me feel anxious thinking about it

I don't do break up angst fics

~FOR NOW THIS IS THE END OF THE LIST~

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DO NOT INTERACT IF:

If you are a LGBTQIA+phobic

RAISISTs

Pro-life

MAPS/pedophiles

Turfs

If you are an actual child (younger than 12) please stay away

A pro-shipper

(We will take action if we find out.)

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Curent mod/s: 1

Tree- My friend is a mod they are also a minor, who basically edited my writing, I call them Mid or Branch, they will not be a constant editor as they have their own life.

Midnight- I'm just an editor doing this because my friend wanted to do this, and I support them. And because I know they WILL mis-spell 70% of the stuff in these posts, so I'll check up on it about every Friday-Sunday.

Also, please call me Midnight if you're not a close friend of mine. Ty. :]

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Some stuff about interaction with us:

You don't need to request a writing to interact with the blog, i am and Mid can talk about the fandoms (we/I) am into, in which I will include a list of (my/mine and Mid's) interests. Or just any general back and forth general conversation- though I have a hard time with social ques over the internet so warning ahead of time. Midnight's better at that.

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Exrta stuff about my writing:

There is at this time a 4-character requesting limit, and if you want more you will be getting shorter headcanons. (UPDATE: their is now a 5 character limit)

I am going to do an alphabet- a sfw alphabet, and crack alphabet.

Almost each of the characters I write for will be combined with a piece of my own art, either it be old or new- so if it's really ugly its most likely old, so pardon that. And if I use my own art- I will explicitly say it's mine, though this could always change as I'm decisive as fuck Yeah I don't do that anymore

Also requested writings will be more detailed then the ones I put out randomly, though alphabets are kinda the exception

Caption/Title color meaning: (RED- Random writing) [ORANGE- Alphabet] {RAINBOW- Requested}

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What fandoms I am into:

My current main obsession: Blue Exorcist, Gorillaz

Gorillaz

Tmnt

Danganronpa

Undertale

Blue Exorcist

Pokemon

FNAF

Spooky month

DC(mainly Harley Quinn and her crew)

Naruto

Demon slayer

Rick and Morty

One piece(don't ask me where I am in the anime I don't remember)

Sonic

Romance Killer

Soul eater

Steven Universe

Junji Ito

Vox machina

Thats all for now.

JJBA

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What Mid/Branch (preferred Midnight or Mid) is into:

Current Obsession: Undertale, Gem Galaxies, and Pokemon / Loomian Legacy.

_ Loomian Legacy / Pokemon / Doodle World

_ Gravity Falls (Limited Knowledge)

_ Undertale / Deltarune

_ Roblox

_ Wings of Fire (WoF)

_ Gem Galaxies

_ Steven Universe (Limited Knowledge)

_ Demon Slayer

_ MHA

_ Attack On Titan (Limited Knowledge)

_ Supernatural

_ Gun Gale Online

_ Minecraft

_ There's plenty more! I'm just too lazy to type everything.

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Extra Information on Mod:

Midnight- You can find me (Midnight) on Discord, Wattpad, Quotev, and Youtube! All information can be given one-on-one on future dates. Depends on which I think is a smarter choice for me.

I can also write longer varieties of fanfic one-shots/headcanons if pleased. I just don't do it often.

Tree- Must explicitly ask for Mid as the writer as they don't have notifications for the blog so I will have to notify Mid of the request.

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My blog with all the links to the rest of my blogs are here:

Main blog

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Inbox: 5/8

Currently working on

Masterlist list:

Masterlist 1#

Thats it for now, Bye!

[goose-books]

whoa, it sure is about time around here for a post, huh!

today i offer you 1.7k words about cressida and rory simply being soft. that’s all. this is the happiest thing i’ve ever written in the darkling canon and making this moodboard reminded me that it’s because these two are the only kind and friendly people in the entire book.

more details about cressida and rory’s home WIP, darkling, can be found here! (short version: it’s a speculative fiction king lear; there’s magic but it’s weird about being magic; half the characters are gay trans and neurodivergent because i said so.) this takes place about a year before the story starts; the two of them have just turned sixteen and seventeen, respectively!

also, i wrote all of this while listening to “kentucky” by hippo campus on repeat. the lyrics aren’t quite as relevant as the vibe. if you catch me yearning on main mind your own business /j

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

Beside them, Cressida is soaked, long golden hair and long white dress dripping. Rory rocks up onto their toes and back down, anxiety worming along the back of their neck like an itchy coat. This was not the plan. The plan was not “get caught in the rain and run through a storm for two blocks.” The plan was for the two of them to go walk by the river and - who knows, talk about Joan of Arc or the Kennedy assassination or something. Swap special interests. Maybe swap spit. Probably not, though. It’s not a date. It’s not not a date - but, like, Rory still does work for Cressida’s dad, so who knows how awkward things could get. Plus Cressida’s hard to read. She doesn’t really make facial expressions, and that’s usually fine, because Rory can’t really read facial expressions so it’s about the same to them, but in this particular situation -

“I trust you,” Cressida says, squeezing their hand, “but where are we going?”

The rain’s left Rory’s glasses fogged up enough to render them effectively blind. They take their glasses off and squint at the elevator buttons. They are still effectively blind.

“Is that a five or a six?” they say, pointing.

Cressida peers over their shoulder. “Which one do you want?”

“Five.”

Cressida presses the five button with her free hand. The elevator, which is about the size of a broom closet, jerks into unsteady, fitful motion.

The thing is that the apartment building is kind of - well, not a dump. It’s not horrible. There aren’t cockroaches. But Cressida lives in a manor, literally. Stayer Manor. Capital S, capital M. And there was never any sort of plan for today, even in the wildest of circumstances, that involved Rory bringing the city’s golden girl to a building the size of a shoebox. But then it was raining, and Cressida kept saying she didn’t mind the rain despite clearly minding because if she ruins her dress her dad will go rabid-dog on her, and Rory’s cognitive wheels were spinning like they were powered by a well-greased hamster, and none of the restaurants close enough to duck into were appropriate places for them to safely freak out about the thunder, and their apartment was only two blocks away.

So.

Here they are.

“Sorry,” Cressida says. “Where are we going?”

Rory attempts to dry their glasses on their soaked-through sweater, to little avail. “We are going,” they announce, “to a world of pure imagination.”

Outside, thunder cracks the sky. They know Cressida sees them flinch, because she squeezes their hand again.

The apartment is 505. Cressida waits as Rory digs around in their jacket pocket, shuffling past loose coins and two pairs of headphones and four melted Starbursts and way too many scraps of paper until they finally unearth their key. Their lock sticks - their lock always sticks - so once they’ve turned it, they have to drop Cressida’s hand and plant one wet Doc Marten on the wall and yank. The door swings open.

“Voila,” Rory says, performing jazz hands. “Willy Wonka wants what I have.”

Their apartment is purple. Not startlingly purple. Gently purple. Purple like it creeps up on you. Purple like you don’t realize exactly how purple it is until you realize everything - walls, gauzy flower-patterned curtains, plushy armchair, compass-rose-shaped clock, old-fashioned record player on the table - is the same shade of soft lavender.

There is at least one nail sticking up out of the hard-wood floor. Rory snags a sock on it every time they dance around with their headphones in.

Two people have been inside since Rory started renting the place a year ago. And that’s them and the landlord. This is their place, their safe haven, their nook, and it’s the size of Cressida’s bathroom, and rich pretty Cressida Stayer is standing, dripping, in the threshold.

“Don’t touch anything,” Rory says. Cressida draws her hands in like the walls might electrocute her. “That was a joke. You can touch things.”

“This is your apartment,” Cressida says.

“Indeed.”

“You live here.”

“That succeeds the first!” They give her an encouraging smile. “Subsequent statements! How cogently lucid of you!”

Cressida looks down. The hem of her dress is dripping onto the floor. “I don’t suppose you have a vent I could sit on…?”

“In fact I do!” Rory directs her, aircraft-marshall-style, to the heating vent on the floor. They’re jittering. They’re using way too much arm movement. They can’t get their heart to stop skidding around, because normally! They do not! Let people in here!

They stand and drip. Cressida sits and drips. She gazes around, and Rory gazes with her, trying to see it through her eyes.

“Where’s your bed?” she says.

Rory skips over to the closet and pulls the door open, with the grand gestures of a magician presenting a trick. The inside of the tiny closet is lined with a thick downy comforter; there are sheets and pillows scattered around atop it, and there are glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up all over the walls and ceiling.

Cressida gazes at it. “On purpose, right? Not because -”

“On purpose. Yes. I could have bought a bed. I just think it’s cozy.” Oh, Rory is going to lose it right here. Their foot is tapping the floor at about a million miles an hour. Granted, being in their apartment helps the overstimulation a little - just being where it’s safe and everything’s always the same and they control their space. That always helps. But it’s not like they can just curl up in their closet with their headphones in and the door shut, because Cressida is here -

Cressida, for her part, looks a little impressed.

“It’s nice,” she says, wrapping her arms around her knees. “You just live here? By yourself?”

Rory shrugs. “I’m emancipated,” they say, which isn’t strictly true, but they work for the most powerful man in the city, who has their back if anyone actually looks into their files, so it’s as true as it really needs to be - and then thunder roars outside again and Rory skitters sideways and falls over their armchair.

“Oh! Oh my God -” Cressida jumps to her feet.

Rory scrambles up from where they’ve tumbled to the floor. “Sorry sorry sorry!” they say, except really they yell it because they have their shaking hands over their ears. “Sorrysorrysorry, I - I really don’t like loud - I d-don’t -”

“Can I -” All of a sudden Cressida’s in front of them. Rory doesn’t move away, just stands there, chest heaving, and Cressida slides her still-damp hands very gently up both of their arms, and she very gently pulls their hands off their ears.

The thunder, again. Like a cannon blast. This time Rory yelps a little. Cressida pulls them in close to her and sits both of them down on the vent, which, at the very least, is warm and also on the floor, so Rory can’t really trip over anything when they flinch.

“You don’t like loud,” Cressida repeats. She’s a good deal taller than they are - Rory’s exactly five-foot in their Docs - and so it makes logical sense for her to settle down with her chin on their head, probably.

“I don’t. I don’t. I really don’t.” They’ve started fluttering their hands a little; their voice is getting that shaky tilt it gets when they’re in sensory overload. “Fun story, back in high school we went on a field trip to this play where they used gunfire blanks for sound effects and I had a full-on crying-and-screaming public meltdown. I like to tell fun stories from high school like it wasn’t actual purgatory, because I cope through humor!”

“I know,” Cressida says simply, and she wraps her arms around them so they can lean back into her chest. The next thunder crash comes, and she tightens her grip. “Is this helping?”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. A lot. Like a weighted blanket.” Rory tilts their head back to give her a shaky upside-down grin.

They don’t like making eye contact, so they don’t, but they are aware that Cressida’s gaze is resting pretty solidly on their face, which is - fine, and normal behavior for friends, and the fact that they’re cuddling on a vent and they can feel her heart beating against their spine is, like, normal also, probably -

“Rory,” Cressida says tentatively, “can I…”

Rory tilts their head. “Can you what?”

Cressida hesitates; then she leans in. It is a very very gentle kiss, almost hesitant; she pulls away after a second or so, to find Rory staring at her dumbfounded.

“Whoa,” they say, face assembling itself into what they’re fully aware is a stupid doofy grin. “Whoa. Hi. Hey. I - yeah! You can do that!”

They both cling to each other’s hands for a second; they both let out a breath that is, Rory thinks, equal parts relief and euphoria.

Then Rory leans in and kisses Cressida again, and this time neither of them pull away, and when the thunder crashes overhead Rory thinks they’ve never felt safer than they do right now.

[baka-monarch]

Autism

Say hello to Autism Sanders!

This side represents autism! Even though Thomas doesn't have it, I thought creating the character might be nice.

Before we get into this though, I need to bring some attention to my wording as I haven't done the best job at portraying this beautiful thing of the human mind. Although my wording may make Autism sound like a bad guy he really isn't, he has his own ways of contributing to the whole. If you guys remember anxiety was usually viewed as a bad thing as well before there started being more people coming out and explaining why it's okay to have an anxiety disorder, the same goes for us people with autism and ADD or ADHD. The point being is Autism may sound like someone who is going to make your life a living hell but he isn't, what he does is to help Thomas is,

To cope with the world around him in a different veiw

To see problems with different light and find a solution that no one else could have thought of

He's able to focus on learning certain things (see his conversation with Roman) so as to have enough information about it to help others to understand

And so much more!

I may not have been able to portray autism in the best light, but this is just how I decided to create him as, and I know, it may not sound good, but to me, I love him and if my autism we're anything like this character I'd love to just give him the attention he needs. Towards the end, I decided to put that he "loves giving sensory overload", as although that might sound bad, he only does it because that's how he copes if something is happening it stresses him out and he tries to hide it with his energy, joy, and morbid sense of humor but he was only ever able to feel at peace again when Remus helped him to know how to cause a sensory overload, that's why they both become eager to cause one because it eases the stress for Autism, and Remus is just frantically trying to help his best friend.

Things to know would be:

He's a dark side

Virgil absolutely HATES him

His sensory overloads cause severe anxiety attacks (note how Virgil hates him)

He hangs out with Remus the most

His hands are usually bandaged from biting/picking at his nails, and picking at the skin around his nails

Very morbid

Enjoys being in Remus' part of the imagination

Sees Deceit as a fatherly figure

Conversations with Logan usually go like:

Logan: What is the third letter of the alphabet?

Autism:....*takes time to think thoroughly*....cunt?

Logan: *facepalms*

He is basically a child and is just as, if not more, energetic than Patton

Conversations with Roman/Remus usually go like:

Roman: How did the Steven Univers movie end again?

Autism: It ended with Spinell finally finding the real definition of love along with the Diamonds now having someone to support, along with a strengthening of the alliance Steven had created-*continues on for an hour*

Roman: *listening intensely, and taking notes*

He's usually excited to cause a sensory overload with Remus at his side (Virgil does not approve, and you can usually find him dragging Autism away scolding him about why not to do that)

Remus and Autism are usually the ones causing the most trouble

Do Remus and Autism imagine up fictional people to torture? You have no proof!

[buncompass]

I guess I’m gonna blog about it now. This turned way longer than I thought it was going to, so it’s going under a read more.

A few months ago I was filling my time by researching depression. My depression is chronic, and though it fluctuates in intensity, it’s always there. I was debating getting back into therapy or finding alternative options when I stumbled upon an article about how women with undiagnosed autism are more likely to have chronic or persistent depression. I read through it and all of a sudden something clicked.

As a preschooler I was incredibly intelligent. I could read, write, and speak well. I had an endearing (that became annoying) quirk of mouthing my sentences again after I’d spoken them. Despite being friendly, I didn’t like being touched. I hated hugs and cuddles unless I initiated them. I was very aware of my personal space and didn’t like it when people got too close to me. I liked being by myself, and only had one friend until around third grade. My isolationist tendencies were favorable because they made me the “good one,” and I was never alone in a house with two brothers and my mom’s daycare. My parents divorced when I was 7, right after my favorite cousin had died. My family put me in therapy and patted themselves on the back for being proactive while also assuming that any problems I had would be addressed.

As I grew up, I learned that people like eye contact, so I trained myself to look at the point in between their eyes to give the appearance of it without actually looking into their eyes. At school, I was the queen of over-sharing. I was obsessed with my family’s heritage and talked endlessly about being half Indonesian. Without ever having to study, I aced every class except for math. I hated math because I couldn’t do it automatically. I got irrationally stressed over it, and would panic and forget everything I learned. I counted with my fingers, and if someone made fun of me for it, found ways to be discreet. I excelled in English, and fell in love with characters who didn’t tease and stories that made sense.

I had a vivid imagination and used toys to practice talking to people, and notoriously carried some sort of security item around with me until I was much older. I saw Toy Story and then Chuckie not too long after, which gave me a pervasive feeling that my toys were alive and could communicate and could also get upset with me. I worried endlessly about accidentally hurting my toys’ feelings and never gave them away, amassing an insane amount of stuffies on my bed and in a hammock on my wall. It annoyed my mother, which scared me. She was an alcoholic with a lot of feelings, and I felt every person’s emotions as deeply as my own. It overwhelmed me.

Middle school was a tricky transitional time. Puberty was rough. My stepmom got me an American Girl book called “The Care and Keeping of You” which I treated like my how-to guide for both puberty and socialization. There were sections on how to talk to friends and sections on how to brush your hair; it was a goldmine of tips for me. I referenced it every day. I memorized it as the Way To Do Things, and when my stepmom teased me about it, I found ways to adapt so it wasn’t so obvious.

I had spent my life up until that point wearing clothes that were comfortable. People started mocking me for wearing sports bras and men’s clothing. I hated the feeling of denim, the tightness of women’s clothing, and the overall feeling of exposure regular bras gave me. When I started wearing women’s clothing, I made sure to have at least one day a week where I wore baggy clothes, but made sure that they looked good; baggy jeans or sweatpants with tight t-shirts, tank tops layered under zip-ups, and various other combinations. I learned that my appearance mattered more than my comfort, and I resented it. My parents accused me of being dramatic, but the feeling of a bra strap digging into my shoulder was not one I could ignore; I was aware of my clothes at all times, and I hated it.

My friends started expressing interest in sex and I was always uncomfortable during those conversations; I never had sexual thoughts. While my friends fantasized about their crushes being their ‘first time’, I fantasized about my crush and I going on heists and adventures. I went along with what others wanted from me, and had a few not okay experiences because of it. When everyone started flirting by hugging and tickling, I was always a target. My friends would hug me and laugh when I stimmed and pushed them away, imitating the way I moved and calling me “twitch”. I started cracking my knuckles or wiggling my toes in my shoes instead of flapping my hands. I trained myself to hug, even though I hated it.

People knew that I misunderstood blunt statements. Sarcasm had already been a defense mechanism at that point for me; if I said something stupid people thought I was joking and it helped me learn. Boys at school would ask me out and then laugh at my confusion. If they weren’t mocking me through fake flirting, they made do with the fact that bluntness threw me off. They’d see me in my comfy boy clothes and asked me how much I could bench or challenge me to races. If I agreed to their challenges, they’d laugh the entire time and I wouldn’t understand why until later. At home, it wasn’t much better. My stepmom would buy my birthday present in front of me, tell me it was for my cousin, and then laugh when I would open it and be surprised. She’d tell people how naive and gullible I was. 

High school made things easier for me. I had solid friends at that point, though I was caught between two cliques, which made the popular kids unsure of me. I coasted through the social side by being nice and smart. I learned to hide parts of my personality away depending on which group I was with, and learned to read body language to avoid being seen as weird. I repressed my need to stim, though I cracked my knuckles whenever I got anxious and played with my jewelry often. At that point, people understood that liking to read wasn’t bad, so anytime I got overwhelmed in public I’d pull out a book and people left me alone. My isolationist tendencies came back, but being a teenage girl gave me some leeway in regards to hiding in my room and being emotional over nothing. I found ways to balance things that set off my sensory overload; I only read under lamps and never used overhead lights; I wore comfortable clothing that didn’t set off any tactile issues; I learned what volume setting I could handle on various TVs and computers. I began using self-deprecating humor to beat people to the punch, and was known for my jokes as a result. I was already dealing with depression, so I feigned happiness every day to make sure that no one would ever find out about all the things that I kept hidden and locked away.

I am autistic. As a child my traits were favorable compared to my rambunctious peers, so no one questioned me. When I started going through the more difficult parts of life, my family and therapists attributed my feelings and actions to the divorce, my cousin’s death, and my mother’s addictions. By the time I got to high school I had developed coping mechanisms based off of the treatment I received from my classmates and family that kept me under the radar. I’ve always obsessed over my special interests, I’ve always been on the edge of socially acceptable, I’ve always found ways to deflect and mask.

I lived for 25 years without understanding a piece of who I am. I read that post a few months ago and the world fell into place. I took questionnaires and read studies and got lost in finding myself. I researched how doctors formally diagnose and found out that I have Asperger’s, which is now referred to as Autism Spectrum Disorder. It doesn’t change anything, but it helps me understand. I am autistic, and that’s okay.

[nux-morbid-art]

fallout oc questionnaire

in case anyone wanted a metric assload of info abt max mostly doing this for my benefit

Which Fallout game are they from? fallout 4

Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why? Max initially joins the brotherhood and becomes a dedicated railroad heavy post blind betrayal. He cant stomach the thought of destroying the brotherhood, bc of the squires on board and a fair amount of allies within their ranks. Instead he enlists the help of the minutemen to maintain peace btw the 3 factions, eventually the brotherhood leave as the minutemen grow stronger

What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.? S: 4 P:5 C:8 I:10 A:7 L: 1

Give us a summary of their backstory.  a rowdy teenager always in trouble, comes from a large extended family, low-middle class, pulled into the high school-to-military pipe. Spent his military career just trying to survive, trained field medic. Eldest of 3 siblings, has one younger brother and sister. 

What’s their full name and does it have a meaning? Do they have any nicknames and how did they get em? Maxwell Ortiz, named after his grandfather who he was very close to. Called Vulture in high school for his looks and morbid sense of humor, earns “Mad Dog Max” in the military

What’s their sexual, romantic, and gender orientation? Do they feel comfortable telling other people? Bisexual, Biromantic, Transgender male He doesnt try to hide who he is, but he doesn’t volunteer the information either. 

Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope? Max has bipolar depression and PTSD pre-war, and it doesnt exaclty get better after he thaws out Moslty he tries to keep busy. He deals w sensory overload by finding a small, quiet place to curl up and rest, favorite sensory stims for staying calm and focused are soft textures. he carries a small keychain stuffed animal he found in his pocket, and collects scraps of nice fabric and teddy bears. he’ll also run his hands thru his hair. he has an oral fixation and if he’s not occupied w a cigarrette he finds something to chew on, bites his nails, chews his fingers, picks at his skin too. 

Do they have any medical conditions? Is medicine/ treatment available for them? Max loathes doctors, his only regular visit is to refill testosterone. 

How much do they care about their outer appearance? What’s their “beauty routine”? How often do they shower/ bathe? Max neglects his appearance and hygiene and needs to be reminded to take care of himself. He loses weight and muscle mass quickly, noticing it can trigger dysphoria. 

What do they fear the most? He will tell you hes already lived through his worst fear, losing Maria and his entire family, but ultimately, he fears being alone and becoming a bad person. 

Their biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw? --ill get back to this one

What are they most insecure about? relationships w other people. he feels like trouble follows him and hurts the people he cares about, like hes the source of their misery and he cant figure out why they let him stay. 

What Wasteland threat do they fear the most? (ex. Deathclaws, super mutants, raiders) Max fears nothing. Bring it on

What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most? What are their placements (if you know them)? (ex. Aries sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius Venus) Scorpio

What’s their Myers–Briggs Type? (ex. ENTP, ISFJ) ---ill get back to this one

What Harry Potter house would they be in? (ex. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw) probably slytherin

Which Pokemon Go team would they choose? (ex. Instinct, Valor, Mystic) instinct, he would love taking care of eggs and raising baby pokemon

Out of the nine forms of intelligence (rhythmic, spatial, linguistic, mathematical, kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) which one(s) are they really good at and which one(s) is(are) their weakest? best: rhythmic, spatial, naturalistic worst: intrapersonal, linguistic

What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil) chaotic good

Do they have any hobbies? What are they? Max likes to play music, he’s decent w quitar, keyboard, and drums other than that he enjoys taking things apart and tinkering. 

Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it? He used to be rather fond of Easter, for family traditions. Food, family, kids running around and playing. 

What’s their favorite season? Spring for sure, it brings relief from the worst of his depression

Do they have a temper or are they level headed? Hairpin temper, ready to fight at any trespass 

Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings? express freely but it takes him a while to figure out what they are.

Are they a leader or a follower? He will say hes no leader but takes the role naturally when he has to work in a group. 

How do they come off to others? What first impression do they usually make? comes off as rather cold and aloof. 

Do they prefer to travel alone or with company? Who have they traveled with if any? Current companion if any? prefers company by alot. he’s usually w danse, the two are joined at the hip. he also enjoys being w deacon, preston, and maccready. he gets along well w piper and curie. i’m not sure if he’d ever find cait, but he’d fall ass over teakettle for her. i’m not sure if he’d ever travel w most of the other companions. 

Would you describe them as selfless or selfish? Does it depend on the situation? He’s pretty selfless, he cant stand suffering and will do his best to correct it. High empathy. 

What do they find most attractive in others? Name at least one psychological and physical trait. (doesn’t have to be romantic attraction) Kindness, honesty, and humor.  Physically, he has a weakness for full, round asses and nice thighs, hands that reveal secrets about their owners

Do they flirt often? How easily do they fall in love? its rare for him to be comfortable enough to be flirty, but when he is he’s damn good at it. he does fall quickly but takes a long time to understand the feelings for what they are. 

What’s their love life like? Are they interested in anyone or in a relationship? Mostly monogamous relationship w Danse

Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence? He gives diplomacy a chance, but he’s not good at it. breaking noses is easier. 

What is their combat style? What range do they prefer? Do they sneak? medium-close range, horrible at stealth. uses explosives and fire to confuse enemies and funnel them to his longer range combat partner, good at making a lane for snipers

What weapon(s) do they always carry with them? laser rifle, small pistol and a sidearm, and several combat knives kept razor sharp

Their most prized possession? a small collection of photos and holotapes codsworth preserved. he has a family photo of him, maria, his parents, and siblings w their children all together the tapes are mixes of pre-war rock n roll made by maria. 

Their thoughts on power armor? ugh, if i really have to. 

Favorite armor/ outfit? light, armored jackets, t-shirt, and jeans

How’s their aim? Do their hands shake while pointing a gun? he’s a pretty decent shot, but not spectacular. steady hands. 

What are their thoughts on having to kill on a daily bases in order to survive? Does it take a toll on them? Or do they shake it off rather easily? He becomes numb to it. it comes creeping up on him on Bad nights, and thats where the fear of becoming an evil person comes in. 

Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it) “I am not allowed to die. I have people that need help.” He is very tired, lots of thoughts wishing for death, to rest. Tries to survive, but. He doesn’t really want to. 

Do they move around a lot or prefer to have a place to call home? Both, eventually calls Railroad HQ and Diamond City home, but never stays in one place for long. 

What’s their favorite location? gonna be cheesy: in Danse’s arms

Their opinions on ghouls, feral and not feral? Not feral: theyre just people. they didnt choose this. they’ve survived unknowable pain, and deserve respect and understanding.  feral: killing them is mercy. he feels that they must have suffered greatly in becoming feral, and their bodies are probably still incredibly painful to live in, resulting in their aggression. 

Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them? both, also a big fan of trading.  “whos fuckin idea was it to use bottlecaps of all the goddam-”

Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track? Stay on track, but very curious and enjoys exploring. will note locations to scavenge later if he cant get to them right away

How do they sleep? Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere? Max likes a tight, secure place to sleep. he’s usually between and wall and danse. if he feels like he’s in a fairly safe location, getting to sleep is easy, tho he startles awake rather easily and has night terrors. if someone tries to wake him suddenly, like with a loud noise or grabbing and shaking him, they are very likely to get hurt. 

What’s their favorite radio station and song? (post-apocalypse) Atom bomb baby, uranium fever, and rocket 69

What’s their favorite post-apocalyptic food? Are they a picky eater? Do they know how to cook? favorite: sweets, candy, and mutfruit Not a picky eater, but he usually doesnt have much of an appetite either. He eats what hes given, usually without thinking about it or really tasting it He has a fair amount of knowledge and skill in the kitchen, being always at his mothers’ heels in everything domestic. he loves his parents and was always eager to help.

What’s their favorite beverage? Do they drink alcohol? he’s rather fond of quantum for the nastalgia and energy-drink buzz,  enjoys alcohol, likes beer, will drink whatever hes handed, if given a choice he likes whisky and nuka cola. 

Do they have any tag skills? --ill come back to this

Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons, Bobbleheads) comic books, magazines, any printed media toys and stuffed animals, fabric that feels nice. 

Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them? always walking into them. if he does notice one before hand he’s pretty bad at disarming them, he usually just tries to set them off from a safe distance.