#quotes from shows and made them fit with the ocs

[enjoliquej]

CUSICK, MY WORD IT'S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I"VE DRAWN MY FAVORITE LITTLE FREAK!! take this as making up for the years I have neglected to draw him But yes, this is my favorite little guy who has EVERY DISEASE on adventure with my Agathe the local mad scientist, and they get up to all sorts of fun little mishaps including - Running from a psych ward used as warmongering research - Escaping raiders after they crashed a train - Getting unwillingly involved with corrupted politics - breeding rats

also @thedailyvio and I have tags for this story if you want to peruse 👉👈

@christian-oc-tournament

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Copper [@evelynmlewis]

Copper is an automaton - a machine in the shape of a human being. But she's more than that - she can walk and dance and speak and no one finds that more shocking than Copper herself, who seems to have an intrinsic presumption that she is a human being, but the evidence suggests otherwise. She was created by some inventor out there, for some unknown end, and that purpose is probably evil, since the main suspect in her creation is the Gentleman, the new dictator of Rostek - and he is hunting for her. Copper must hide and flee from this seemingly omniscient foe while trying to discover who she is and where she came from. (Sorry i wasn't willing to spoil more....) Copper is depressed and struggles with her identity and value and whether or not she believes she has a soul.

Cusick Weisflog [Magic and Cannons @thedailyvio]

Cusick is a disease mage, and the first of his kind in his world. Through sheer determination and years of work, he developed a staff capable of creating diseases from nothing. Rather than patent and sell the technology for a profit, he decided to sell his services to his country and employ it for the purposes of war. Despite his desire to be the envy of the world, he tends towards isolation. He lives in a hut in a swamp to ensure nobody can contact him or disturb his work. Despite his staff being his most impressive piece of work, his real pride lies in the rats he’s been breeding and modifying since he was in his early teens. He has a horde of them, each the size of cat, carefully training them and seeing to their health. Cusick is easily described as narcissistic, motivated mostly by the hope of recognition and enduring spite. He believes people mostly ignore him out of jealousy or stubborn refusal to admit they were wrong. He considers humanity to be of little value, but he is clearly the best of them, so it would only be right for him to be acknowledged! He doggedly spends years of his life in the pursuit of this alone. He is well into adulthood by the time he makes his first real friend who challenges much of his worldview by being the exception to every rule he’s constructed in his own mind.

[vanitythevantropist]

Sooo, I redesigned my MLP OCs recently :3 I love my little colourful horses! (Even tho I don’t watch the show lmao-)

Characters featured (left-right, top-bottom): Clouded Eclipse, Pictor Soot, Pitaya Effervesce, Brisk Ocicat and Imagination.

Extra details about the characters featured:

-Cloudy: He/him, aroace, blind, dragon/unicorn hybrid, shy and often on the quieter side, a very good listener (Note; not sure what his cutie mark represents yet lmao- Feel free to offer ideas!)

Pictor: Transmasc (he/him), gay, paralysed from the waist down, can still fly but doesn’t often due to lower body being heavy, bit of a mischievous streak, currently dating Pitaya, cutie mark represents the Pictor constellation because he likes to paint and also because he’s an astronomer!

Pitaya: He/him, also gay, a very healthy boi, stupidly fit though he doesn’t show it often, very good flyer, runs a smoothie van (yes, there are cars in this world cuz it’s set in the future), very gentle and friendly, most definitely extroverted, cutie mark represents his job as an excellent smoothie maker! (Quote; “They have the soft texture of clouds”) (Also, my friend made me this design :3 I did change a few things but mostly kept him the same!)

Brisk: She/her, pansexual, very, very fast, very healthy girly, very shy and soft spoken, gets along with Cloudy very well, very good sportsmen-ship (if she loses, she loses🤷🏼‍♀️ She will gladly congratulate the winner about that, tho!), cutie mark represents her quick hooves, she works as a race pony and a coach (mostly a coach)

Ima: She/her, lesbian af, very near sighted (hence the glasses), woodland unicorn (a custom species of unicorn! Their manes are long and kinda leaf-like. Feel free to make one of your own and tag me, I’d love to see them!!), on the quieter side but certainly isn’t shy, very confident, will absolutely commit murder if it means protecting those she loves, huuugge book worm, cutie mark represents her job as a glass painter

I love them all, I really do🥰 Feel free to ask about them or directly ask them questions! (Specify who you’re asking, you may do this with all my OCs! I welcome it!)

[godsiero]

promises (found a title)

heyo, i’m back with PLOT and EXPOSITION. sorry it’s so long, but this is needed information! it could’ve been longer, but then i realized it was nearing 10k and decided to stop lmao. i actually edited and proofread this one before posting it like a big girl so i hope the five people who read it enjoy it! i love this so much, but also please criticise me.

chapter one is here

wc: 9k

warnings: physical abuse (oc), panic attack (oc), hurt/comfort (spencer is the sweetest), mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, general cm content, mentions of possible sexual harassment

__________________________________________

In the six months that had passed since joining the team, Claudia had started to fit right in, the same way Morgan had said she would. Any time she’d had off, she found herself sharing it with Spencer; discussing books and reading over the essays of past agents Blake and Lewis, whom he spoke highly of, and she wished she could’ve met them while they were on the team. They bonded over their time as professors, discussing the different experiences they’d had; Spencer with his classes full of auditing students (Claudia sensed there was something fishy behind that), Claudia with her classes full of boys who would never listen. That made Spencer a certain type of upset he couldn’t quite place. He’d ask her about it another time.

Claudia was the first person in a long time to hold a candle to Gideon when it came to playing chess with Spencer, again, it gave him a feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite place. When they played chess, they would either sit in silence, or they would both ramble off at each other about everything and nothing, and they quickly discovered they had a lot more in common than their academic tastes.

Claudia had put him in check during one of their games and mumbled “Allons-y!” under her breath in a tired haze. She hadn’t realized Spencer had heard her until she heard his laugh (which she enjoyed getting out of him, often, but that was neither here nor there).

“Were you showing me you’ve been working on your French, or were you quoting David Tennant’s doctor?” Spencer had his suspicions that Claudia had at least seen a little bit of the show. She had a scarf that was a subtler version of the fourth Doctor’s and sometimes he’d see her notes she would take during briefings and on the plane, and he’d notice she would doodle the different screwdrivers, but he’d never tell her he was looking so closely at something so small that was only meant for her to see. She would never tell him she’s noticed his wandering eye.

She smiled into herself, trying to avoid his gaze, cursing herself for outing one of her secrets so obviously. It was one thing to subtly hint she’d had the interest, it was another thing entirely to let it slip out so clearly. She’d wanted to wait a little longer before showing the team who she really, really was, but she thinks she’d be fine with him knowing her a little better than anybody else.

“What if it was both?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could’ve been watching it together this whole time!”

Hearing him say the words “we” and “together” in the same sentence and referring to her gave her a certain sort of pride and honor she did not want to think too deeply about, considering he probably used the same words when talking about something else with someone else.

“I don’t know…” Claudia decided to come clean, partially, “I might have been…hiding a few things about myself for fear of seeming…juvenile?” She phrased it like a question because saying it out loud to someone for the first time made her feel really stupid and she suddenly regretted ever hiding herself from any of them, especially Spencer.

He looked her in the eyes, “Claudia. Your personal interests, no matter how ‘juvenile,’ do not diminish your intellect. Liking Doctor Who and having fun does not make you any less of an academic, it makes you human.”

She was surprised by how empathetic he was being. She’d gotten to know him on a personal and friendly level, and she was proud of that (especially since, according to Penelope, he was unusually quick to open up to Claudia), but she hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate.

“I know, but…” she focused her gaze somewhere else, trying to think of a logical reason to explain away why she felt lying so profusely was necessary. She wanted them to know her, why was she still hiding?

“No, there doesn’t need to be a ‘but,’ you can just be honest, now. I’ve found you out, I know you’re a nerd, I know you’re a loser, just like me, it’s okay,” she knew he was joking, but he gave her a sympathetic look anyway, to prove it.

“First of all, doctor, you do not know a thing about me, in due time.”

“Oh, really?” he kept his playful air about him while going on his rant, “Then how do I know you’re never listening to a podcast when you have your headphones in? How do I know that you’re actually listening to a variety of music from various genres that are all subgenres of rock or metal? How do I know that your favorite of all of that music came out between the years of 2002 and 2008? How do I know that you often listen to the same songs over and over again because you can’t get enough of them until you catch an itch to listen to a different song approximately 12 times in a row, without getting bored? If I, presumably, don’t know a thing about you, how is it that I know, arguably, the most important thing about you?”

For lack of a better word, Claudia was speechless.

He had just made an absolute fool out of her and she couldn’t even say a word.

So she started laughing.

She wasn’t laughing at him. She was laughing at how stupid she had been to think she could’ve gotten anything past him, especially the thing that meant the most to her.

“Are you laughing because I’m right? Because I know I’m right. I know I tend to be right, but there is a less than 5% chance I’m wrong and just made an idiot of myself,” he was chuckling along with her.

Gasping for air while she spoke, or rather, yelled, “YES! Yes, god, you’re right, you’re right! But Jesus Christ, you didn’t have to hit the nail on the head, Spencer!”

He gave her a playful side-smile, “I knew I’d figure you out. You had me fooled for a while there.”

“That was the idea.”

“Why? I understood the fear of appearing juvenile, but, forgive me, your music taste is anything but. And that’s coming from someone who listens to Mozart and Bach.”

“I just wanted everyone to see me as this…proper…professional. I don’t know, being the youngest on a team full of people who have known each other for a decade is a little intimidating,” she was the one rambling, now, “so long story short I tried to hide everything that made me, me so everybody would like me and think I was incredible at this job, and it worked, I guess, because JJ and Emily come to me for advice and Morgan talks to me about his fatherly insecurities and Rossi invites me over to his mansion to discuss cultura e storia and I work out with Hotch and I don’t even know how I ended up in such situations, but it seems a thank you is in order to give to my fake self that is quiet, yet sassy, and firm, yet soft, and totally and completely calm any time you lay eyes on her, meanwhile Claudia Jessup is actually a loud and abrasive autistic freak who self-soothes by blasting music so loud, you’d think I’d gone deaf by now, and buying trinkets that make my heart flutter, and drinking coffee as much as I possibly can because it makes me feel like it’s always cold outside, and buying romance books because I just love reading about two people going stupid with how desperate they are for each other, and I also love the way they smell and how they feel when I flip all of the pages at the same time, and I love Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and I am tired of pretending he was a terrible choice.”

She finally gasped for air and came out of her self-induced tunnel vision to see Spencer. Still sitting across from her, at his chess table, in his apartment. He hadn’t stopped listening. He hadn’t gotten up and begun to ignore her. He hadn’t walked to the door to tell her to leave. He’d just listened. A grin adorned his face. He was bursting at the seams with pride. He was so happy to get the truth out of her. He’d gotten so close to her, so fast, that she’d let her mask slip a few times, and he was determined to crack her open, and he did. At first, he felt bad. He felt as though he’d pushed her too far, before she was ready, but he could tell, now, that she had needed to do that. She needed to stop hiding and lying.

“Feel better?”

She felt like she just finished with a manic episode. She was laughing with every exhale, she put her elbows on her knees, and put her hands on her forehead, staring at the ground, eyes wide, “Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. I feel…I feel like I just went supernova on you…”

“I certainly don’t feel like you just went supernova on me.”

“And I think if I stay here any longer, I might suck you into the black hole.”

She’d had breaks like this before. The end of a long period of masking. The beginning of the end was always an epiphany; it made her feel high. Then it was followed by panic; she felt like she’d gone too far, blown everything out of proportion, gone supernova. Then finally, she would bring everything in her wake down with her, in a fit of embarrassing, dramatic, and unintentional rage and emotion she’d never meant to place on anybody. She needed to get away from Spencer immediately; she didn’t want him to see that part of her. Ever.

In addition to the obvious, this conversation with Spencer, and his response and reaction, had flipped a switch inside of her. She’d realized there was something she needed to do before she could fully, officially open up to everybody on the team, and she thought she was finally in the position to do it. She got up from his chess table and started to get her things.

“Claudia, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…really don’t want you to see what happens next…”

“Where are you going?”

“I just…there’s something I need to do tonight.”

“I can go with you.”

“No, no, thank you, that’s okay. I need to be alone. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay…be safe.”

“I will, I promise. Get some sleep.”

“Okay…call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Claudia”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

As she left Spencer’s apartment, she double checked everything: her bank account, her lease, her insurance, her storage unit, her security system. She couldn’t believe it took her this long to act on the plan she’d been silently hatching with herself, but she needed to be positive she could do it by herself before making her first move.

Claudia spent the last five years in a relationship. She spent the last three years living with them. She spent the last two in self defense and boxing classes. Over the last six months, she’d been working up the courage to prove to herself she could survive on her own. Despite her time with the CSI, her time as a professor, and her time as a licensed therapist, she still had never been able to safely and securely leave. Something about Spencer figuring her out and her spilling her guts to him and him still hanging around without a trace of fear in his eyes made her realize she could’ve and should’ve done this years ago. She leveled with herself and said better late than never.

When she arrived home, he wasn’t there, thank god. She didn’t know how she was going to go about this, at all. She looked around and hated everything she saw. Like she told Spencer earlier, she would always buy little trinkets and toys and paintings and books and blankets and mugs she liked, but she never had anywhere to put them. Seeing things that brought her joy in a place that brought her so much pain made her feel stupid. She hated feeling happy around him. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of even thinking he caused it, not that he would, he hated her just as much as she hated him. They barely even spoke or saw each other any more, neither of them were ever home at the same time, even before she got this job, not that she was complaining.

They did love each other, once. A long time ago. He thought she was smart, she thought he was alive. They liked the same music, ran in the same crowds, it seemed right, and it was for two years. It was nice, he was nice. Eventually, though, she’d started paying less and less attention to him. Not out of anything personal, but because her career had started falling into place; she’d become a professor at Penn, she’d been promoted with the CSI, and she’d kept clients for years, at that point; she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.

And he hadn’t. He built up a resentment towards her. He started partying more, drinking more, doing drugs, cheating on her (though he didn’t know she knew that). She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she knew something changed. It was when he came home in a drunken rage and hit her that she realized nothing would ever be the same. At the time, it had felt like a one-time-thing. You would think she would’ve left, given what she knew, but she saw it as an opportunity for a case study. Selfish? Of course, but she was putting herself at risk for the sake of science, she could live with that.

She had tried doting on him more, being kinder, going out of her way to please him, and she found he had been nicer, happier, more tolerant of her busy schedule. After a month, she started ignoring him again, throwing herself into her work, never coming home before he was asleep, and her theory was right, that set him off again. This time, he wasn’t drunk, and he beat the shit out of her. Shouting at her, spitting on her, very nearly breaking her bones, definitely leaving some deep cuts and bruises that took weeks to go away. In the middle of it all, she’d started taking classes to be sure if he ever went too far, she could fight back, and take him down. That went on until he got bored.

A year. She spent a year conducting this study. After he’d finally got tired of his affectionately abusive cocktail, he stopped paying attention to her entirely. That was when she really cracked down on her work, but the second she was able to focus totally and completely on that, Roy got sick. She would’ve finished her PhD early, but she started worrying about him. She stayed with him and cared for him as long as she could, until…

The months after were a blur. She focused on her work when she needed to. When she wasn’t working, she was at home. Not her apartment, but home, where she’d grown up. Going through everything, not that there was much. Roy was never a material kind of guy. He sure knew how to raise a material kind of girl, though.

She had taken far longer than she needed to. She didn’t want to leave that house. She didn’t want to go back to the one she lived in now. She didn’t want to be around him anymore. The day she had finished cleaning out the house was the day she decided to leave him, even though she didn’t know how. She knew it would take a while, but she promised herself, and Roy, that she would do it.

Claudia Jessup did not break her promises.

She’d had to move him to D.C. with her. He didn’t have to come, but he did. He could’ve ended it when she left Philadelphia, but he needed her for the same reason she needed him. She was about to rip that security out from underneath him, and she felt an excitement bubbling beneath her skin that was not unlike the adrenaline she experienced while out in the field.

She was determined to stay up until he got home. She didn’t know when, or if, that would happen tonight, but it didn’t matter. It was a promise she made herself, so she was going to keep it.

She got in the shower, taking advantage of the solitude and blasting her music for the first time in what seemed like forever. She needed it. She felt bad about leaving Spencer; she wanted to text him; she’ll do it when she gets out. She’d make it up to him on Monday, when she brought him his coffee.

That was a sweet exchange. Claudia had done into the bullpen with coffee from The Grounds. Not her favorite place to get a cup from, but certainly the closest and easily accessible on her way to work. You would never believe the absolute shock on her face when Spencer had entered her and Penelope’s conversation with a cup from Coci, her preferred choice of coffee shop in the harbour. She instantly started interrogating him about it.

“Is that from Coci?”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite, but my favorite is kind of out of the way for me, so I settle for second best. Anything beats the pot here,” she feigned betrayal on her face at his admission.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you say drinking from Coci is a ‘second best’ kind of experience,” she said dreamily.

“Because I believe it is. I don’t think it’s bad, it’s just not what I prefer. I’d love to get a cup from The Grounds, but that would add an extra twenty minutes to my commute, and that’s not worth it.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded, looked at her own coffee, and turned it toward him so that the label faced him.

“You mean…this ‘The Grounds’ coffee?”

It was Spencer’s turn to be playfully shocked, “Oh my god! You go to The Grounds?”

“Since moving here, yes, and I would say this is second best to my one true love, Coci.”

“Well I think it’s settled then. How do you take yours?”

“Black and scalding, why?”

“I’m going to start bringing you your order, if you don’t mind bringing mine. This seems a fair exchange.”

“You’re not “boy genius” for nothing, clearly,” he’d told her his coffee should have at least eight packs of sugar in it, which made her laugh. When he didn’t say he was joking, she looked very concerned, “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

With that, a tradition had started: every morning, Spencer had brought her her favorite black coffee and Claudia had brought him his favorite black coffee…with a ridiculous amount of sugar.

“Sugar with coffee,” she said.

“Coffee with nothing,” he replied.

They cheered each other and said that every single morning since then, and she’d hoped it would never stop.

She’d gotten so wrapped up in the memory, she didn’t hear her music stop playing because she was getting a phone call. She was in the middle of washing her face when she opened the shower curtain to see she was getting a call from Garcia. She rinsed off her face with record breaking speed and picked up her phone, while still halfway in the shower.

“Garcia?”

“Hi, hon. I know it’s late, or, uh, early, but we’ve got a case. Get here as soon as you can and be safe.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in thirty,” and she hung up the phone. She could’ve said twenty, but since it was four in the morning, she figured she may as well keep up appearances with Spencer, while it was on her mind.

She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten and instantly regretted having the music so loud, she’d hoped her neighbors wouldn’t mind. She got dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, running into him.

“Jesus, Devon, I didn’t even hear you come in,” she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of somebody coming into her home, so not hearing that he’d come in shocked her a little.

“Feeling a little jumpy, Claude? Your big girl job scaring you yet?”

“You? Scare me? Not in a million years. And don’t call me that,” she pushed past him and tried to get her go bag from the front closet, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Where are you going? It’s four in the morning on a Sunday.”

“One, I don’t have to tell you where I’m going. Two, this happens sometimes. Three, you’re drunk,” she could’ve pulled out of his grasp, but chose not to. Now was as good a time as ever to execute her plan. Case be damned, this needed to happen, now, or she wouldn’t have the opportunity again, for who knows how long.

He held onto her arm tighter, “What? You gonna arrest me for drinking, officer?”

“I’m not an officer. Let me go, Devon.”

“Why? So you can run off to your little brainiac?” he had let her go, but he did so by tossing her away.

“There is no way you are accusing me of cheating right now.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“Even if I was, which I’m not, why does it matter to you?”

He abruptly ran up to her, gripped her shoulders, and pinned her against the wall, gritting through his teeth, “Because I’d like to know if I need to teach somebody a lesson on loyalty.”

She spit in his face, then, which caused him to pull her off the wall and slam her head right back into it.

“You think you can treat me like that, bitch?” he was yelling now. She was holding the back of her head.

“Yes, actually, I do. You’re a drugged up drunk who beats on someone who’s never done a single thing to you besides stay with you through all of your bullshit, including cheating on her.”

He gave her a good backhand slap, that sent her to the ground, “You don’t know that, how do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but thank you for the confirmation,” she smiled a rueful smile at him and stood up. She felt blood running down her face. He had a ring he always wore on his finger that must’ve cut her face, when he hit it.

He hit her in the same spot and sent her to the ground again, this time with his fist.

“Keep ‘em comin’, Devon, beat the shit out of me like you always do!” at that, he put his hands around her neck, pulled her up, and slammed her against the wall again, this time cutting off her airway.

She choked out, “Go…a-ahead. Sh-show…the gov..ernment…what…y-you…can…do-”

He threw her to the ground at the reminder of her job, “God dammit Claudia, why do you have to be like this?”

“Be like what? Ready and willing to please you?” she was clutching her throat, gasping for air between words.

He had never liked when she was sarcastic, he grabbed her face with his hand, “Don’t fuck with me,” and kneed her in the stomach, throwing her on the ground.

She couldn’t help but let out a grunt, at that. She might be mentally fine with his abuse, but he was still fully capable of hurting her.

He flipped her over and straddled her, making sure she stayed on the ground, not that she was going to try to get up, and he went to town on her face with his fists.

Between blows she would manage to get out, “‘Do your worst, inferior one,’” this threw him off, so he hesitated on his next punch, which gave her the opportunity to take advantage of him. She tucked her leg under his bent knee and flipped him over, pinned his arms to the ground, and started pressing her forearm into his neck ever so slightly before getting really close to his face and saying, “Take a good look at your handiwork, Devon. Enjoy it while you can because you will never see me again,” her entire face was bloody and swollen. She knew he loved to look at the damage he had done to her, knowing it made her beautiful face unsightly, making people turn away from her on the street when her favorite thing was human connection. This was how he took her down. Or so he thought.

“Listen to me right now. Nobody. Will ever know you did this to me. The FBI will never know you did this to me. I’m not going to report you. I’m not going to have you arrested. I’m not going to tell a single soul how this happened. Not. Even. Spencer.” she knew that would set him off. He wanted to hate Spencer for ruining his relationship, for being smarter, for being everything he could never be. He was stuck in a state of delusion, thinking everything was fine before Spencer came along. He thought leaving his marks on her let Spencer know she was his and she belonged to him, not some nerd at her job. Little did he know she had never let anybody know the marks were from him because nobody knew about him to begin with. They knew she took boxing courses at the bureau, which they all knew could get ugly, but were worth it for the experience and pay off. Any marks they saw on her were easily explained away by that.

“You are going to give me your key. You are going to walk out of here before me. We. Are. Done. Do you understand me?” he didn’t respond because of the lack of oxygen getting to his brain, “Do you understand me?” she said it much louder, then, and he nodded as best he could.

“Take your key off of your belt.”

She let go of his left arm and he slid it down to his belt loop where he’d had his keys on a carabiner. He unclipped it and tossed it across the room.

After that, she climbed off of him, went to the keys, found the one he’d had to the place, and took it off. Triple checking he hadn’t made a copy. He was too stupid to hide one anywhere and she was too smart to leave one hidden in case of an emergency for him to know about.

He couldn’t even go after her to give her a piece of his mind because he was too busy regaining full consciousness while she was dealing with the keys. When she was finished, she walked back over to him, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and pulled him into a standing position. She didn’t say anything to him as she opened the door and shoved him outside. She locked all three locks before walking back into her bathroom to check the damage he’d done.

This was probably the worst he’d ever done to her. Her lips were busted, her gums were bleeding, her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks were bruised. She had cuts all over her face, her ribs were bruised, and there were ten faint lines burned into her neck from where his hands had been.

She looked herself in the eye and smiled. She started crying to herself. She’d never been more proud of something she had done, including make Roy proud. She was honored to be in this body and in this mind and make it out alive of what she’d just done.

She cleaned herself up, put on some makeup, and a few butterfly bandages.

She examined herself and determined the way she looked now would pass as “a few cuts and bruises from Luke at the training facility.”

Then, she remembered she promised Spencer to call him if she needed anything (it was not lost on her that she also promised him that she would be safe, and although she just got the pulp beaten out of her, she was safe the entire time).

While she was leaving her apartment, she’d called Spencer.

He picked up the phone with his typical sass, “Did you even sleep?”

“No. Did you?”

“Nope.”

“I told you to get some sleep!”

“I never promised that I would.”

“Touche. I made a promise, though, and that was to call you if I needed anything…”

“Coci?”

“You’re already there aren’t you?”

“You think just because it’s four in the morning on a Sunday I’d forget about my Claudia’s coffee? Who do you think I am? Some sort of criminal?”

She deliberately ignored how casually he called her his Claudia.

“No, somebody else did that already.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. Too soon?”

“You can make it up to me by returning the favor.”

“On it, bud. Over and out.”

By the time she hung up, she’d gotten into her car, and made her way to The Grounds.

__________________________________________

Claudia had been walking into the front entrance of the BAU’s building when she noticed Spencer was the person a few feet in front of her.

“Hey! Sugar with coffee!” she shouted to get his attention.

He’d just finished swiping his card, so he opened the door and held it for her (which was strictly against policy, but it was Claudia).

“Coffee with nothing,” they exchanged cups as she walked through the door, “my god they did a number on you didn’t they?” he’d begun to inspect her face, seeing all of the cuts she’d bandaged. She looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, then he saw where his eyes were going as he inspected her face, and remembered.

“Oh. Yeah,” before she could say anymore, she remembered she promised not to lie to him anymore. Her admission was honest enough. She never promised to not withhold information.

He had a subtle hint of concern in his eyes that he normally didn’t have when he noticed her cuts and bruises she got from the training facility. He felt like something was off about these, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she wasn’t lying, but something was off about how she avoided eye contact with him after he’d said something.

Then he remembered the facility didn’t have classes on Sunday, and when she’d left his apartment only hours before, she didn’t look like that.

He was just about to pry more information out of her, when they ran into JJ, coming from the opposite direction.

“Anybody else feel like they’re sleepwalking?”

“Tell me about it, I didn’t sleep at all, literally,” Claudia chuckled.

“Me neither, Henry has had food poisoning, and my mother was staying with us, talk about having your hands full.”

The elevator dinged. Claudia and JJ stepped into the elevator, while Spencer stayed put, stuck in a daze.

“Spence?”

“Earth to Spencer?”

He snapped back into reality and forced his thoughts of what Claudia was keeping from him back down his throat and into the confines of his reminders for later.

“Sorry, need to drink this coffee faster I guess,” he tried at a joke, but they could both see something else turning the gears of that big brain of his.

Claudia knew it had something to do with her, judging by his previous reaction, and considering she didn’t exactly want to talk about it in front of JJ, she stayed silent.

JJ, however, had other plans, “Are you okay? You look a little…”

Before she could finish, he blinked and shook his head like a dog after a bath, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just tired,” to really seal the deal, he let out a huge yawn, which made Claudia and JJ follow suit.

Mid-yawn, breaking the tension between her and Spencer, Claudia said, “My god, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he picked up that that was her way of acknowledging she knew that he knew she was hiding something from him, so he calmed down a bit too. By the time he said that, they’d reached the sixth floor, only to be met by the rest of the team heading into the elevator.

“No time to brief you three. Wheels up now.”

__________________________________________

The plane ride was lackluster, the case is straightforward, but still unable to be solved, for now. This unsub is particularly frantic and unpredictable with his timing, but his MO suggests he was abandoned by his father and looking for surrogates now. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

After a long flight to Seattle and the drive to this small town thirty miles outside of it, Hotch demanded everyone get some sleep in order to crack down on this guy the next day.

The small town hospitality was not unrecognized. Everybody knew everybody, so when the local police needed to house FBI agents who were trying to catch the man killing well-respected people of the community, loads of folks opened their doors, including a local inn.

Owned and operated by a retired couple in their seventies, it had surprisingly good business, which, unfortunately for the team, meant they had to bunk.

“Lucky for us they still have three rooms available,” Hotch said.

“Lucky? Hotch, have you noticed there are six of us?” Morgan was always the first to despise the idea of bunking with anybody.

“Yes, I have, which is why we’re lucky they still have three rooms and not two.”

“Well, JJ, let’s get a move-on,” Emily had already grabbed her go-bag and took a key from Hotch without a second thought.

“Well, I am absolutely not rooming with Reid,” Morgan had always had a strict “no Spencer” clause when it came to situations like this.

“Guess it’s you and me then,” Hotch had responded to Derek, until he realized who that left, “oh…”

Neither Spencer, nor Claudia, had realized this either until the moment came. Claudia had stopped scrolling on her phone and Spencer had stopped perusing the lobby, waiting for his room assignment, but they heard Hotch’s exclamation.

They both looked at Hotch, then at each other, the back at Hotch before saying, at the exact same time:

“It’s totally fine, we’re friends.”

“There’ll be a male and female pair no matter what we do.”

They looked back at each other one last time before Hotch said, “Okay. As long as you’re both okay with this arrangement, I won’t bother anybody over it.”

He threw Claudia the key before leading Morgan up the stairs to their room. Hotch muttered something to Derek that made him yell with laughter. Spencer and Claudia could only imagine what that was about.

As if on cue, the two looked at each other at the exact same time and started giggling like children who had caught their parents doing something silly.

“Come on,” Claudia said through her fit of laughter.

As she walked ahead of him, Spencer’s mind wandered back to the cuts on her face. He’d thought she’d had more makeup on today than usual. Not that he often paid attention to how little or how much makeup she wore (she rarely wore more than the bare minimum, but he only knew that because she wore a bit less than JJ, Emily, and Garcia). He thought it was strange that she not only procured multiple cuts, but had also been wearing a turtleneck in August. Not the most absurd thing to see, but definitely not ordinary. He wondered if she packed more to continue hiding.

They walked to the room in a comfortable silence, but there was still something lingering between them, and they both knew what it was.

Claudia arrived at the door and unlocked it, making her way inside to, thankfully, see two beds. She had read enough romance novels to know sharing a room with your best friend by chance usually leads things in a crazy direction she did not want to go into tonight (or ever, for that matter, she shoved that thought deep, deep down). She had also had enough sense in her to know that things like that don’t happen in real life.

“Which bed do you want?” Spencer knocked her out of her train of thought.

“Oh, uh,” she wanted to lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did, so she sucked it up and told herself that it’s just Spencer. She could tell him everything, no matter how silly or mundane it seemed.

“Could I have the one next to the air conditioner?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer stood in between the beds and threw his stuff on the one farther away from the ac, so that he could bow to her bed and say, “your throne awaits, my Queen,” in a truly terrible impression of one of the characters from the cartoon portion of Mary Poppins, but it made her laugh, nonetheless.

He started laughing with her, and while she tried to breathe through her laughs she asked, “What on god’s good earth was that!”

“I have no idea, I’m so tired,” he was still laughing, too, “but I did want to…diffuse some tension,” he calmed down to look her in her eyes, pleading for her to finish telling him the truth about what happened to her.

When she just stared back at him, he continued, “Claudia, there is no training at the facility on Sunday. You didn’t get those from Luke.”

She looked away from him, then. She felt her eyes start to burn, but she refused to crack in front of him.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Then where did you get them from,” Spencer was being very gentle with his delivery, which she appreciated.

After a moment’s silence, weighing her options, she said, “Spencer. I will tell you,” she took in a shaky breath, “if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I,” at that, he held up his pinky for her to take. They’d had a discussion a while ago where they both thought keeping a pinky promise was above the law, space, and time, and they meant it, wholeheartedly. She looked between his eyes and his hand and took his pinky in hers. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed his thumb. He pushed their hands towards her and she did the same.

Neither of them tried to let go by the time she started talking, so they both held on tighter.

“Uh…so…like I already told you, I had been trying to keep parts of myself a secret,” she looked into his eyes to be sure he was listening (and also to seek solace). He nodded.

“Well, one of the biggest was that I…kind of…maybe…had a boyfriend…the whole time…” Spencer’s eyes went wide with shock and his brow furrowed at this admission. Of all the things he’s seen through, he never would’ve guessed that.

“You- what?”

He wasn’t mad, he was genuinely surprised.

“Emphasis on the word ‘had,’” she rolled her eyes, “as of this morning.”

Spencer realized where this was going and he felt his chest and jaw clench, his eyes burn, and his blood pulsing everywhere.

Claudia noticed those physical changes and she couldn’t help but look at him like he was a lost puppy. Seeing him like this hurt her more than anything Devon had ever done to her.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist that was holding her pinky, “I don’t want to make you upset-“

He cut her off, “Nothing you are doing is making me upset, I promise. Keep going.”

At that, Claudia sat down on the bed Spencer had claimed as his, and she pulled him down to sit next to her. She didn’t think she could look into those doe eyes of his any longer without completely breaking down, especially while saying what she was about to say.

“I started dating him halfway through the first year of my doctorate. I went to all of these concerts with my friends from my undergrad program and he was always there too. I thought he was cool. My friends who were friends with his friends thought he was cool. We kissed a few times, went on some dates, and started seeing each other. He supported me through half of my time at Penn; he made sure I ate between teaching courses and having sessions with my clients. He made sure I slept enough when I got back from investigations with the CSI, even if it meant canceling some of my classes, my students always understood. After we moved in together, something…switched in him. He started drinking, he stopped going to work, he started avoiding me. One day, after weeks of me being absent and juggling everything all at once, I came home and he was angry. A kind of angry I had never seen before from anybody. He…threw his nearly-full bottle of beer at the door I had walked through. It barely missed my head. When it did, he ran me into the wall and started choking me. My head hit the wall so hard, I nearly fainted. When I didn’t faint, he punched me. Then I blacked out…”

“Did he-“ she knew what Spencer was alluding to, and didn’t want him to finish his sentence.

“No. No. He never did that,” there were times, however, that she had felt the same amount of passion was not reciprocated. But she didn’t want to tell him that. That had nothing to do with this.

“I woke up on the floor, confused. I figured it was a fit of drunken rage, so I decided not to think too hard about it. That is, until, it kept happening,” Spencer felt like his muscles and his bones were going to rip out of his skin. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hands had started to shake from keeping all of this rage inside of him. Claudia noticed, but if she didn’t keep talking, she’d never finish. She needed this to end just as badly as him, and if she didn’t tell him everything, he would know.

“That was my life for a year. It only happened when he was drunk, but it got worse. After the second time, the time I knew it was all intentional, I started taking self-defense and boxing classes and I promised myself I would leave him, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t live by myself. I didn’t want to tell anybody this was happening, especially not-“ she felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if she should or could tell Spencer about Roy. Her eyes were wet now, but she was stubborn as all hell, and refused to cry in front of him about something as stupid as Devon. Roy, on the other hand, she could cry about Roy any time of day, and she wasn’t even a crier, but she didn’t think it was fair to dump all of that onto Spencer when she was already telling him all of this.

“Especially not who?” she hadn’t realized she zoned out while weighing her options. Now he would definitely know she was keeping something from him. Honesty, it is then.

“Somebody I…I can’t tell you about, right now, or ever, maybe, but…” she didn’t know how to justify her reasoning for that besides the fact that she had made a bigger promise to Roy to try not to dwell on him. Or talk about him. Thanks for the impossible task, jackass.

“It’s okay. Keep going,” Spencer was being so nice to her, she felt like she would shatter into a million pieces with how fragile she felt.

She told him about her study she’d conducted on him. Spencer recognized it as a part of her dissertation she had written. This whole time, his favorite part of her dissertation, a part that felt so clinical, so real, so calculated, and so emotional wasn’t about a willing client of Claudia’s. It was about Claudia herself. He felt like he was going to be sick.

She didn’t notice, so she kept going. She began to ramble because she realized that would be the only way to get all of this out. She told him about how their conversation led her to finally make the decision to enact this ridiculous plan of hers.

“Wait,” broken from his trance, Spencer spoke up, “I caused this?”

“What? Spencer, no, absolutely not. I need you to understand that I could’ve fought back. I could’ve taken him down. I could’ve done to him what he did to me tenfold. I chose to let him do so much. It was a…selfish, psychological manipulation,” she suddenly felt horrible admitting that’s what she’d done. She felt as low as him now, “Which I realize was stupid and immature, but…I wanted him to think he was safe. I wanted him to think this was business as usual. And then I wanted to rip the rug out from under him. Crush his hopes of thinking he ever had control. From the second time he’d done this, the control was in my hands. You know, he thought everyone knew he did this to me? He took pride in it, but he never knew I covered them. He never knew you all knew I took boxing at the facility. He never knew none of you knew about him, until I told him this morning. The look behind his eyes was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on film. He looked so…defeated.”

She’d developed a death grip on Spencer’s wrist and instantly let go. She felt like something was breaking inside of her. She didn’t feel like herself. She was an aggressive person. She was a loud person. Hell, she was even violent, when it came to a punching bag, but the way she psychologically tortured Devon with one sentence felt like she betrayed every good thing she had ever done in the name of justice.

She got up from the bed, then, and started pacing, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know, everything? Holding your wrist too tight, telling you all of that, god, you probably think I’m insane now. You probably think I’m an absolute psycho who gets pleasure out of making people feel small, oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m so sorry, Spencer, I ruined everything, please please please don’t hate me, please don’t tell me I ruined everything. Oh my god I don’t think I can handle losing you, too, right now,” she had begun to shake and hyperventilate. Spencer almost couldn’t take the sight of her like this. He never wanted to see her in pain.

“Hey,” he touched her shoulder, and guided her to sit back down, “it’s okay. You’re okay. We are okay,” he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her upper back, slowly rubbing random patterns across it.

“Can you…can you please stop that?” Claudia had never found someone rubbing her back to be soothing in the case of a panic attack, she found it actually made her feel more suffocated, but she knew Spencer didn’t know that, so she tried to ask in the nicest way possible, given the circumstances.

“Of course,” Spencer instantly stopped and removed his hand, “is there anything else you’d like me to do instead?” He was using that godforsaken whisper of his that made him seem so damn kind and understanding. She heard him use it with children multiple times out in the field, but she never thought he’d be using it on her. The tears might start falling, now, she thought.

“I don’t…I don’t know, could you…could you hold my hand really tight, please?”

She still couldn’t get a hold of her breathing. Her eyes were sealed shut and she was rubbing her hands over her pants; she felt the need to be in constant motion to remind herself that she was still alive.

“Yes,” he grabbed her right hand in both of his and gripped as hard as he thought was necessary without hurting her.

“Could you…could you squeeze harder,” she needed to feel like her circulation was about to be cut off in order for it to work.

“Harder? Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.”

He squeezed harder until it hurt him to keep going, and he kept that pressure there until she told him to stop. While he was gripping her hand, her breathing slowed, and her left hand had stopped rubbing her leg. Her grip on him hadn’t lessened, though, so he didn’t let go of that.

Her eyes were still shut, but she said, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Claudia, you didn’t scare me by having a panic attack.”

“But I did scare you?”

“No, you didn’t scare me at all, for any reason, I promise,” it baffled him that she thought that would’ve scared him. If anything, it made him admire her more now that she was comfortable enough to let him see this side of her. Granted, you don’t choose when a panic attack happens, but she could’ve left the room if she wanted to. He knew that.

“You can loosen your hand now,” she was careful not to say ‘let go,’ because she didn’t want him to let go.

He did, but his grip was still firm, tethering her to this moment, to him, to the bed they sat on.

“Do you want some water?”

“Please.”

There were complimentary waters in the room, but they weren’t cold, and he knew she would’ve preferred it to be ice cold freezing. She sensed that’s what he was thinking about when he hesitated to bring it over to her.

“Any water, please, Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he handed her the bottle and she chugged almost the whole thing in one go. She loved the way gulping felt in her throat. It made her feel full after feeling so empty, like all of the life had been sucked out of her.

They stayed silent for a moment while she finished the last of the water, until she finally took a breath and spoke up.

“Okay. Spencer,” she stood across from him and looked him in the eyes; her normal ‘business-as-usual’ self coming back like a charm, “I am going to shower. In that shower, I am going to wash my face. Washing my face means the makeup is going to come off. The makeup covering the worst of the gory details. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“When I get out, I would prefer it if you were wrapped up in something else. After the fiasco that just happened, my god, I do not want you to see…this,” she gestured to her entire neck and face, “please be preoccupied. I am begging you.”

He was hesitant to agree. He had a conflict going on inside of him. On one hand, he wanted to see what that bastard really did to her, what extent he went to. On the other…he didn’t want to see her torn apart and beaten with such scrutiny. He didn’t want to see any of it. He wanted to see all of it.

“Okay. I’ll just go to bed. If you need me, wake me up. I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” and with that, she went into the bathroom.

It was probably the best and the worst shower of her entire life. The best because the shower after a panic attack is always incredible and the worst because the shower after a panic attack is always like coming down after a high.

That is, literally, what it is, in a way. She had shattered in that bedroom and Spencer, dear as he was, picked up the pieces, but she had to mend herself.

The tears never fell, they usually don’t. She let the warmth (some might even say scalding hot heat) engulf her. She had to feel like she was in a sauna and a hot spring simultaneously to have the prime shower experience, panic attack notwithstanding, this was a daily need. She let it run over her face, clearing her mind of the headache she felt coming on. She breathed some more and she rubbed her face before finally scrubbing the awful events of that morning off of her. Normally, she showered quickly, but after that she needed to take her time with herself. Instead of quickly going through the motions, she made sure every strand of hair was coated in shampoo and every inch of her body was lathered in body wash and given the same love and care at the end as she gave herself at the beginning. She kept her eyes closed. She kept breathing. Trying to think about nothing. She had a passing thought of Roy and how he used to bathe her when she was little and how she’d come home extremely intoxicated at six in the morning on a day during her undergrad program and he washed her face for her. She remembered, she smiled, she let it go. She took a few more deep breaths and finally got out of the shower. She felt so good, so clean, so calm, so peaceful. And then she saw her face again.

It had gotten worse, as bruises usually do. The cuts were healing fine, thanks to the butterfly bandages, but the bruises. Her cheek and eye were swollen where he’d socked her twice with his ring. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about it besides wait. She took an anti-inflammatory for the swelling, her insomnia medication, brushed her teeth, and turned the light off before exiting the bathroom.

Her bed was closer to the bathroom, thank god. She turned down the covers to get into bed when she heard Spencer rustle and she froze.

He heard her stop moving, so he felt the need to reassure her, “I was just putting my book on the table, I’m not facing your direction.”

“Oh. Okay…” she continued getting into the bed, making sure to face away from him.

They both settled into bed. Him staring at the ceiling, her putting her headphones in (dangerous, she knew that, but even with her medication, she couldn’t sleep without noise), but before she started the music, she had one last thing to say.

“Spencer,” she whispered.

“Claudia.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t need any clarification. In fact, he didn’t even need a thank you, he felt it was an honor and a privilege to help someone so steadfast and sure of themselves. She trusted him to see her like that. He felt like he should be thanking her, but instead, he settled for:

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

[eeveonaartz]

🎃 Sonatober 🎃

Wanted to make a silly fun little spooky season template- But instead of your OC(s), it's for Sona(s)! ^^ Anyone can participate, just pls credit if you use the template <33

Below is a list of what each day means:

Day One, Normal: Just draw your sona(s) as they are!

Day Two, Meme: Draw your sona in a funny meme.

Day Three, Quote/Lyric: Draw your sona either saying or expressing some feeling in either yhrought he form of a famous said quote or lyrics from a song.

Day Four, Species Swap: Draw your sona(s) as a different kind of species in comparison to what they already are. If they are a pokemon for example, just draw them as another pokemon species.

Day Five, Frankenfusion: Fuse your Sona(s) current design with either another one of your sonas design (if you have another) or fuse tjem with another IC you may have.

Day Six, Get pranked!: Draw your sona(s) getting pranked.

Day Seven, Fright: Show us how your sona(s) looks like when their scared!

Day Eight, Costume: Draw your sona(s) in a fitting costume for them.

Day Nine, Fall Photo: Draw your sona(s) taking some fall photos.

Day Ten, Couple Shots: If your sona has a partner, Draw them taking fall pictures together. If not then Draw your sona showing their proud singleness I a fall photo. 😎

Day Eleven, Fall Memories: Create a collage of the photos you drew of your sona(s) from the previous days. Then Draw your sona(s) reaction to it.

Day Twelve, Prankster: Draw your sona(s) pulling a prank.

Day Thirteen, Movie Scene: Draw your sona(s) reenacting a famous horror movie or Halloween movie scene.

Day Fourteen, Someone else: Draw someone else sona(s) in fall attire. (Make sure to as for permission if your unaware if the other person will like it or not)

Day Fifteen, Pumpkin Patch: Draw your sona(s) in a pumpkin patch.

Day Sixteen, Cutout: Draw your sona(s( in a Halloween cardboard Cutout.

Day Seventeen, Redraw: Redraw an old piece of Halloween art of your sona (If you've ever made one) If not- Well its not to late to start :3

Day Eighteen, Autumn Goodies: Draw your sona(s) enjoying some candy or other fall treats.

Day Nineteen, Cozy 1: Draw your sona being Cozy for the holidays with you somewhere IRL. Whether they be on your lap, floor, or heck wherever.

Day Twenty, Sona Squad?: Draw your sona(s) along with either one or more of others sonas having some good fall time.

Day Twenty One, Good: Draw your sona- But good??

Day Twenty Two, Evil: Draw your sona-Buit evil.

Day Twenty Three, Poison Apple: Draw your sona(s) trying to sell "poison" candy apples.

Day Twenty Four, Carnival: Draw your sona(s) experiencing fun at a fall Carnival.

Day Twenty Five, Pun Costume: Draw your sona(s) in a Costume of themselves.

Day Twenty Six, Graveyard: Draw how your sona wpuld react to being in a Graveyard.

Day Twenty Seven, Your Costume: Draw your sona(s) in a costume uou have maybe worn in a past year.

Day Twenty Eight, Cartoon Dress Up: Draw your Sona(s) as a famous villain character.

Day Twenty Nine, Cozy 2: Draw your sona(s) staying cozy with their perchance partner or best bud.

Day Thirty, IRL Moment: Draw your sona(s) having a fun IRL Moment with you or wherever the place you may be at.

[autumnalwalker]

Songs and Ships Tag

Rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your ocs (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said wip (if possible!) underneath it.

Thank you for the tag, @theprissythumbelina.

Passing the (optional) tag to @blind-the-winds, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @void-botanist, @theimperiumchronicles, @ieppiq, and an open tag to anyone else who wants to join in.

So, now here's Sullivan and Road from Empty Names being "a secret third thing". Think of these all as being sung from Sullivan's perspective to Road, and in roughly chronological order:

Dear Fellow Traveller by Sea Wolf

Dear fellow traveler under the moon I saw you standing in the shadows and your eyes were blue You put your hand out, opened the door You said, "Come with me, boy, I want to show you something more"

You spoke my language and touched my limbs It wasn't difficult to pull me from myself again And in our travels, we found our roads You held it like a mirror, showing me the life I chose

Eternity by Mizz Fish

Friends like you are hard to find So I’ll stick with you til the end of the line We aren’t perfect but that’s alright

All your dreams, your passions, ambitions You’ve told them to me like a man on a mission And I’ve done the same to you many times

Somehow we made our way here just by lookin around Somehow we knew what was lost had somehow been found Because of you I knew I could be who I wanted to be without feelin a fool In front of those who don’t understand Because of you I knew that sometimes you may be hurtin But that cannot stop you from feelin deserving And following your dreams You come runnin when I fall even if I don’t make a call for help No one needs their eyes to see We’ll be friends for eternity

Trying times and metal struggles I know for a fact you’ll be there on the double Because you won’t want me to feel alone

And anytime you need someone beside you A shoulder to cry on, a friend to stay true You know I would never let you down

The Funnyman's Smile by Michael McCormic Jr.

Well, I had a dream I was trapped in a cave with nothing but a magic lamp I polished its side, and out you came with gold shackles around your hands You said, "Son, I think there's something people like you and me should know" Life is more than empty jokes and putting on a show 'Cause you can make the world smile, and get nothing in return And in the end you find that what you give is what they think you're worth Then you offered me three wishes, but I saw only one worth while" I said, "I want the chance to make the Funnyman smile Oh, give me a chance, a chance to show you"

Funnyman, you're not alone No, even when you're crying I'll be there to hold you close And tell you everything will be alright

Because doctors still need checkups Bartenders need a drink or two The funnyman, still needs to smile And these days, I do, too 'Cause all the times you made me laugh Now they feel a little colder To know that when life knocked you down You cried on your own shoulder 'Cause you can make the world forget its problems for a while But who was there to make you smile? Tell me, who was there to make the Funnyman smile? Oh, to make the Funnyman smile

Ship in a Bottle by fin

You can fit everything you know In a bottle for you to show Pick your brain apart and put it in And build it again with needles and pins Everything you have earned is a ship With blue waves crashing into it But nothing can touch your happy thoughts anymore With your glass ceiling, walls, and floor

Between My Teeth by Orla Gartland

And I-I-I bite my tongue 'Cause I don't know how to tell you I'm getting this urge to run And I-I-I bite my tongue 'Cause I don't know how to tell you Oh, you deserve someone else Who can treat you like I want to

Oh, ah, ah, please don't lean on me 'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth I, I think I better leave 'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth I can't take the pressure of it, I can barely breathe Ah, ah, please don't lean on me 'Cause I don't want your heart between my teeth, no

Turtles All The Way Down by Sammy Copely

See, I could choose for the both of us And you'd just go along because You've trusted me for no good reason Love no matter what the season

Force the last page of our story You're my favourite allegory Hope to god that you'll forgive me My mistakes will long outlive me Mine, mine is the unkind, kindest cut of all And I'll watch you fall

And I don't know if this makes it any easier Perhaps you'll find comfort when I say You and I are nothing more than meteors Never meant to live long past today

Yes, I'll choose for the both of us You'll just go along because You've trusted me against your judgement You deserve someone who doesn't

Force the last page of your story No more boring allegories Hope to god you'll rise above me Though you'll always be part of me Mine, mine is the unkind, kindest cut of all I'll watch you fall

Now watch me fall

And now a snippet:

“I see.  I’ll leave you to it then.  Just try not to rough anyone up too badly while you’re there.”

“Of course not.”  Unlike with this job, Sullivan had given his friend his word about certain aspects of his conduct ahead of time.  It had been long indeed since the last time his friend had simply explained a situation and left with no implication other than that they wouldn’t ask questions about what Sullivan chose to do with the information.  It was certainly one way to keep their conscience clean.  “Sleep tight,” he adds.

“I’ll try.  See you later.” 

The line goes silent but there’s no click of a hangup.

Sullivan moves to the kitchen, checks the freezer, and finds it surprisingly boring.  No stashed electronics, frozen potions, or preserved body parts.  He grabs a carton of ice cream, kicks another body out of the way so that its partially-crushed head won’t hold the door open anymore, and closes the freezer.  

Returning to the balcony, he leans over the railing, balances the carton on it and begins scooping out ice cream with a knife.  Much like the city vista below, it’s night black and speckled with glazed bits that reflect the glowing veins of light that run through it.  At least the penthouse’s late owner had good taste in something.

He glances back over his shoulder and blinks through his filters.  No significant signatures other than the already-ransacked saferoom.  He returns his gaze to the view, eats his looted ice cream and waits with his phone still up to his ear.

“Su?” his friend’s expected voice finally whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Am I a bad leader?”

“Of course not, everyone loves you.  They’d follow you anywhere.”

“But should they?”

“Hey, what brought this on?”

“This is twice now that Eris and Ashan have come back in bad shape, and every quest so far we all wind up separated.”

“That’s just a new team going through the growing pains of getting used to working together.  The point is they came back and it’s not been anything they couldn’t recover from, and you’ve been able to help everyone you’ve tried to help.  That sounds like a resounding success to me, especially for the early stages.”

Silence.

Consideration.

Waiting.

“Has this happened before?”

“Do you want me to answer that?”

“No.  I don’t think I do.  It’s just…”

Sullivan’s grip on his phone tightens.

“Just what?”

“I’ve been thinking about the gaps more than I should lately.”

“And?”  They should barely be able to think about them at all.

“The list of reasons I’d want to leave them empty is pretty short, isn’t it?”

The ice cream carton tumbles down to the streets far enough below to be another world.

“You trust me?”

“For happily ever after.”

How bitter the old joke between them is.

“This isn’t going to be another gap.  I would have tried harder to talk you out of it if I thought there was a chance of that.”

“Thanks.  I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for.  Now get some sleep.  You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’ll try not to dream.”

[homoeroticgrappling]

With Orange Cassidy's title run ended, it's hard not to think about what comes next when we've gotten used to seeing him defend the championship week after week.

I feel like it's worth reminding people he took up a producer role in AEW in the last few months (presumably knowing the end of his reign was coming), he produced the Big Bill & Brian Cage VS Trent & Matt Sydal match (which I really enjoyed) and stuff for ROH. Collision was doing so well at giving us something different to what we see on Dynamite/Rampage and showing off talents who deserve opportunities and weren't being given them. With everything that happened and Punk gone, I'd love to see OC be allowed to shape the creative direction of Collision. It allows him to stay involved while he gets the physical rest he deserves, and god knows you won't find someone more passionate in that company about giving a shot to the people that get overlooked or dismissed as not worthy of TV time.

It reminds me of a quote from MJF at the All In media scrum: "We’re not just an alternative. We are a gang of fucking misfit toys...the fact of the matter is, yeah, we are misfits, but guess what: We come together, we put on the best fucking professional wrestling shows this world has ever fucking seen.”

Make Collision the show for everyone who embodies why AEW exists in the first place, all the people who are doing incredible things but were told it didn't fit what was gonna make it on TV. The legacy of AEW is gonna be showing the world people like Orange Cassidy and giving them a home, people who had ideas for something new and different, what could make for incredible professional wrestling but just needed a chance to show it. There's gonna be a whole bunch of wrestlers in the future who are gonna be asked who inspired them, who made them fall in love with and want to be a professional wrestler, who made them sit up and say "that's what I want to do" and they're gonna say Orange Cassidy.

He also has the respect of the locker room and literally never have I seen anyone have shoot issues with him, he's been our workhorse champion and proven that both the company and the fans can depend on him, and I think if we gave him the chance he could do for Collision what he did for the International Championship.

[sunriseverse]

For the ask game for fic writers: 2, 8, 10, 20, 27, 37, 45, 52, 55, 75, 88, 99

ah, sass, thank you! i love talking about writing :) this is going below the cut because it got long.

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

hm...................i was going to say that i don't usually have this problem and usually just run into the issue of my own mind refusing to write something that doesn't take into account the societal and cultural context i'm writing the characters in, but then i remembered the time i was writing god knows i can never get rid of habits and i was about halfway through, sleep deprived as fuck, and texted my friend in an exasperated, defeated tone, quote, "the show has repeatedly made me say “ugh fuck there’s a blowjob in my future isn’t there” which sounds wild out of context but the context is i think i can’t avoid writing them fucking in this fic". sometimes i cannot control the characters sometimes they really just want to have sex and i have to deal with this.

8. what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

if you try and give me "concrit" on my fanfic then i rip you to shreds in dms with my friends. i write to excise the spirit of creativity from where it's possessing my physical form, not to have people try and tell me how to "better" my writing. i'm aware my writing tends to have a lot of things people don't usually enjoy (heavily descriptive, emotion-focused, present tense, a more realistic approach to tropes or themes, etc) and i, frankly, don't care. my writing is for me; everyone else is just getting to enjoy it because i'm egotistical enough to post it. (that said, for my original writing i welcome concrit, because i actually have the intent of having them published. i just haven't managed to get around to finishing many original projects, historically.)

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

i do not come up with titles until the moment i have to post to ao3. i hate coming up with titles and am very grateful when i figure out a lyric from a song or a line from a poem fits it. well..........usually, anyway. all my sunrise fics have had pre-planned titles—but, then again, sunrise is very much an outlier, so.

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

i don't think i've really had a defined trope across my writing the last few years? i guess if i had to choose one, probably the 5+1 format or derivations of it.

27. do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

for people to read my rough drafts i would have to have rough drafts. i genuinely don't give a fuck about "perfecting" a piece, whatever gets written the first time is what gets posted. could my writing be "better"? probably! do i care? no. i wouldn't say my writing is the best ever, but i personally like it and that's what matters. that said, i do send screenshots of sections i really like to my friends as i write, because i like making them yell at me.

37. when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

this i guess only really applies to ocs; in that case, i usually come up with a character archetype, an archetype i'm trying to subvert, or an overarching narrative from which i can extrapolate characters. after that, i come up with names based on that, and then appearances are what i come up with last, usually.

45. name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

only three???? no. absolutely not. @lungache @butchybats @lucientelrunya @owengrose @lunarriviera @lunanoc and probably more whose urls i am forgetting.

52. how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

oh god......................i have so many unfinished fics T^T i have ones that are unfinished but actively being worked on, unfinished but not actively being worked on but which i think about regularly, unfinished and i wish i could finish them but i just never have the time, unfinished because they were a joint project with a friend and then we never finished them and now we're both too busy and not in those fandoms anymore, and unfinished and rotting forever in the cabinet of abandoned wips.

55. do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

uhhhhh okay so. i have. a megop fic (transfomers aligned continuity, pre canon), another megop fic (also aligned continuity), a dc fic, and a gotham fic. the transformers fics would probably be most likely to be completed because i actually have detailed notes for them, the dc fic is dead in the water, and the gotham fic i would have to rewatch the show and i don't need to hurt myself like that again.

75. do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

yeah i need to know at least the basic narrative beats before i start writing. often this means me rambling at my friends in our dms to work out my ideas and the approach i want to take, but i can't start something without knowing how it ends because otherwise it'll never be finished.

88. if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

hmmmmm i think i would make @xueyang write my mdzs fics because i think they could make them funny. and good. and also emotionally devastating. (hi mar i'm going to write that fic for you i Swear.)

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

actually i never expected to become a writer, despite having been writing since i was a young child. i actually thought i wanted to be a fashion designer. which to be fair i guess kind of happened since i can't stop drawing outfit/character designs. but yeah i didn't expect to become a Writer the way that i am now. it's easily one of the foundational aspects of my life and daily routines, and i could not have expected that the first time i started writing.

[little-peril-stories]

OC Song/Image/Quote Tag

I was tagged by @cowboybrunch in this post here. Thank you so much!

Rules: Pick an OC and post a song you relate to them, an image that represents them in some way (aesthetic, picrew, art, etc), and a quote of dialogue or narration from them. Totally feel free to expand and explain!

Very gently tagging to participate, should you feel so inclined: @clairelsonao3, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @mysticstarlightduck, @keeper-of-all-the-random-things, plus an OPEN TAG if you think this looks fun!

OC: Will Wardrew, The Prince of Thieves & The Queen of Lies

Song: "Rule #4" by Fish in a Birdcage

I am a fish inside a birdcage / My brother always sings me songs / With his beak, he tries to soothe me / He makes me feel that I belong / He has a wild imagination / And tells me things that must be true/ Like there's a world where I can take flight/ Where I can freely move / So carry me from these walls, brother of mine / Show me the world outside / It has to be true / I'm counting on you/ To be my wings and my eyes

I went with an autumnal theme for Will's lil aesthetic board (oh yeah, I cheated and made a board) - Bree often associates him with spring and with 🍃green🍃, but TPOT & TQOL take place in autumn and I do think the oranges and browns fit Will's general vibe a little better., at least in TPOT specifically. 🍁

Who better to give us a sense of who Will is at the beginning of TPOT than his big bro?

[practically-an-x-man]

What are some specific quotes and/or lyrics you associate with your OCs?

Hm... I can't say I hold onto a lot of quotes like that, but I have a couple song lyrics that always remind me of particular OCs

(also this is a little sporadic, I really just went with whatever came to mind since there's a TON of songs and lyrics I associate with my OCs and it would take forever to gather them all)

Jasper and Quinn both have representative song lyrics incorporated into their actual fics, and since I don't have the spoons to copy those over I'll just snag the playlist links. The main other song I associate with Jasper that's not on the playlist yet is Hozier's Abstract (Psychopomp), and I plan to write a fic based on it in the future.

I also did a full playlist analysis for my OC Prometheus a while ago now, that's in three parts here: (1), (2), (3)

____

Madison:

"I'm swimming to the surface/ I'm coming up for air/ Cause you're making me feel nervous/ I need to clear my head" - The Currents (Bastille)

____

Gia:

"Far from Skid Row/ I dream we'll go/ Somewhere that's green" - Somewhere That's Green (Little Shop of Horrors)

"See I let the light in the darkest place/ Let the sunshine, pain goes away/ Nothing is permanent for me, yeah/ Flowers they bloom and fade away/ The beauty it happened inside me/ Even if it's a memory, yeah" - Courage (P!nk) [thanks for the rec!!]

____

Ophelia:

"Picture a grave/ Picture six feet freshly dug/ The sharp temporary walls/ At the long-term cliff edge of the world/ Light and air find some new deepness there/ And usher down the sky where/ One stands by and tries to make sense of it" - Through Me (The Flood) (Hozier)

And of course, all the lyrics to Ophelia by the Lumineers, since it's a big piece of her fic too

____

Kestrel:

"I know who I am when I'm alone/ I'm something else when I see you/ You don't understand, you should never know/ How easy you are to need/ Don't let me in with no intention to keep me/ Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me/ Honey, don't feed me, I will come back" - It Will Come Back (Hozier)

"I wouldn't mind if I can't find, I can't find/ Anything to save our kind/ All the pieces of my body's gone/ Look at me now/ I'm falling apart in daylight/ All the pieces that I lost, I have loved" - Soulless Creatures (AURORA)

____

Jimmy: "And if death is the last appointment then we're all just sitting in the waiting room" - Church (Fall Out Boy)

"Leave me to myself/ Don't fall away/ Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again" - Hemorrhage in My Hands (Fuel)

"When the heart would cease/ Ours never knew peace/ What good would it be on the far side of things?/ It was too soon" - Francesca (Hozier) [and really ALL the lyrics of Francesca fit but I'm isolating that one in particular just for the sake of the ask]

____

Eris:

"Hello, my love/ We made the most of this life/ Now I hold a fear of what comes after it all/ And I won't let go, no/ Beautiful to the bitter end" - In the Night (Des Rocs)

"I see red/ My blood is boiling and it shows/ When all you are is a weapon/ You shoot 'em down 'til you end up alone/ I seem fine/ But I can't take the highs and the lows/ All I am is a weapon" - Weapon (Against the Current) [planning a fic with this one rn...]

"Darling, we sacrificed/ We gave our time to something undefined/ This phantom life/ Sharpens like an image/ But it sharpens like a knife" - Who We Are (Hozier)

"I’m not the person that I thought I was/ I’m trying to come to terms with what you’ve done/ In the fumes of your anguish, oh, my blistering pride/ I’m still burning like a tire fire deep down inside/ Oh, I’m burning like a tire fire and I don’t know why" - Scars (The Crane Wives)

____

Nikoletta:

"Darling, I've been having dark dreams/ They come home to haunt me/ I can't seem to let them go" - Bad Dreams (Stripped) (Faouzia)

"And all this time you knew/ That I would put you through/ The darkness at the heart of my love/ For you" - Darkness at the Heart of My Love (Ghost)

"Sabotage the things you love the most/ Camouflage so you can feed the lie that you're composed/ This is the voice in your head that says "You do not want this"/ This is the ache that says "You do not want him"" - Whispers (Halsey)

____

I'm leaving this here for now, obviously it's not all of my OCs and there are a lot more songs I could put together, but I've run out of spoons for tracking down all these lyrics lol

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- slight gore

A/N- Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n @marauders-wife

Ch-42 ~Shards of hearts~

Days went by in a haste and soon Nikolai's birthday approached. The event seemed to be one of immense importance. Guests from different places began to show up, including Nikolai's relatives, nobles and all kinds of riches. The Grand Palace was in a state of haste in making the extravagant preparations. Nikolai had asked that no ball be thrown in his honour. It didn’t seem fitting with so many refugees going hungry outside the city walls. But still the preparations appeared lavishing. 

Though the celebrations had been happening at the Grand Palace, the Grisha back at the Little Palace were delighted to find an extravagant meal prepared for them as well. Anaya had been forced by Rabeah to put on a new kefta and had styled her hair in two small braids on either sides, allowing her hair to fall down.

All of them sat in the dining hall together, chatting and laughing as they enjoyed the scrumptious dishes and drinks. Zoya and Rabeah sat on either sides of Anaya and Paja sat across her. Marie and Nadia had been hesitant to conversate with them at first, but they'd now grown to be comfortable in their presence.

"Oh and she stumbles on thin air, and falls down!" Anaya exclaimed, explaining a clumsy incident of Rabeah during their training that resulted in achieving a laughter from everyone

'So let me get this straight, she sparred with you for two hours, and even won and then tripped on nothing and fell!?" Zoya grinned with surprise

"Exactly!" Anaya responded

Rabeah's face was flushed with embarrassment but she still seemed to be enjoying, "Oh come on! I was tired" she threw her hands in exasperation

"Sure" Paja grinned. "I wonder what they're doing at the Grand Palace' she asked

"Maybe the guests had forced Prince Nikolai to dance with Alina" Nadia said, grinning

"Well it wouldn't be too bad, the Prince is an excellent dancer" Marie spoke

"The Prince is, Alina isn't" Zoya pointed a finger

"I bet she'd end up 'accidentally' stepping on his foot one too many times" Anaya made air quote with her fingers. "She really seems to dislike the poor boy" she pursed her lips

They continued to laugh to their meaningless assumptions. Both Anaya and Zoya had seemed to come out of their shell today. 

Anaya continued to laugh when suddenly, she felt a nervous wave creeping over her body. The scars on her back began to ache, but she ignored them, continuing her statement. "Oh by the way" she remembered another incident and looked directly at Zoya

'Did you know what Zoya used to think of the abandoned classroom at school?" she gave a wicked grin

Zoya gave her a deadly gaze. But she continued, ignoring her "She thought it was like, cursed or something and if one would over go inside, they'd never be able to come back out"

"Really?" the rest of them looked at her in awe

"Anaya I will choke you to death if you say that" Zoya continued to glare at her

"Yeah! and she began to wail when I once forced her to come along and explore it" 

All of them began laughing once again

"Oh come on it was terrifying. I had nightmares about that place!" Zoya responded, looking irritated but even she seemed to be enjoying

All of a sudden, the warning bells began to ring, distant at first, down near the city walls, one and then another, joining each other in a rising chorus of alarm that echoed up the streets of Os Alta, through the upper town, and over the walls of the Little Palace.

Before any of them could comprehend what was happening, the windows exploded. Glass rained down on them. Anaya threw up her arms to shield her face.

A wave of tremor passed through the crowd as the nichevo’ya swarmed into the room on wings of molten shadow, filling the air with the whirring buzz of insects.

Everyone looked at the monsters in horror, before Zoya, Nadia and a few other Squallers stepped forwards and blew hard gushes of wings towards them. Their formes dismembered, then went back in place. Before anyone could get a chance to run, the shadow monsters thrashed through the air, grabbing people one by one tearing them apart. Paja's gaze met Anaya's for a brief moment and then she suddenly ran

"Paja where are you going!?" Anaya screamed

"We need to get to the dishes, we have to stop this!" she reponded

"How will we even get them to work without Alina!?" 

"We'll find a way" she responded, before disappearing in the crowd

Before Anaya could go after her, she felt a sudden violent grasp on her waist, jerking her backwards. She screamed, as one of the nichevo'ya grabbed hold of her. In a sudden she was swept from its grasp by a massive wave of wind. She fell back, thrashing onto a wall. 

"Come on!" she saw Zoya rushing to her and helped her to her feet

Anaya looked around in panic, "Where's Rabeah!?" she asked

"I don't know, we don't have time" Zoya responding

'I have to find her!" Anaya yelled, jerking away from her grasp

                                                          ...........................................................................................

Anaya ran outside. The front door was wide open and an uncountable amount of bodies lay slithered onto the steps, the ground. She looked at them in horror as the scars on her back began to ache and throb.

She ignored it and rushed towards one of the disks. She looked up, where the dish had previously been placed, but it was no longer there. She looked around in a haste. The path to the stairs were covered in shard of mirrors and the hulk of the dish was lying shattered near. Then she noticed something beneath it, a person, Paja.

She looked at the sight in horror. The girl was crushed beneath the hulk, her blood covering the stairs. Her breathing began to increase as she looked at her body. Then she noticed two nichevo’ya crouched before the dish, gazing at their broken reflections. She took panicked breaths and stumbled backwards. Without further thought, she began to rush towards the other disk.

She could barely see more than the numerous broken shards of glass in the dark, but when she grew closer, she finally saw her. Rabeah.

[dvarapala]

🍒  + @milleroptimism

it's me with the positivity / @malka-lisitsa for @milleroptimism

gather round, gather round & let me tell you a story!

so, a long, loooong time ago, like, way before i properly started spn, i followed hayley's sam blog. and then when hayley made sarah, i followed that blog too, thinking sarah was a canon character to the point where i, honestly, was willing to start the show in whichever seasn sarah showed up whether that was season one or the very last one.

imagine my surprise when i found out that hayley built sarah from the ground up! hayley has always been consistent with sarah and the characters around her, as well as the world that's been built up around her. and sarah herself brings a very specific energy to the dash that i think we can all use.

personally, i found it delightful to watch sarah grow and change and mature. very rarely is there a character that realises: hey, i was doing abc my whole life but actually doing xyz makes me happier (i.e. sarah going from being an active hunter to being a restaurant owner carving out a safe space for the preternatural community). i love it when she chooses herself; i love it when there are threads in which she does so. i love sarah and dean; i love the little family unit she's made with him and sam and ben and lily and jami.

i love that she's got strong opinions; i love that influencers aren't allowed in her restaurant. i love that she's got a theme song that fits her so, so well. i love that she's got established routines but that she's open to trying new things as well.

i love that sarah recognizes that, in the verses where katherine works at the spot, katherine needed, perhaps, a positive influence, yet sarah also has / had her own firm boundaries in regards to compulsion due to what happened to her (and what happened to dean).

that reminds me: the positive influence part reminds me of that one michael quote from the good place: people improve when they get external love and support, how can we hold it against them if they don't? and i feel that's really the thesis of the whole "katherine works at sarah's spot" verse; it's almost an arc in and of itself.

anyway, a few years ago, i watched an actress from motherland fort salem (which i rec, i loved that show) give an interview in which she described her character as - and i paraphrase - a walking, talking !!! emoji and i feel like that perfectly describes sarah.

sarah is a !!!!!! emoji if an !!!!! emoji was a person and i love that for all of us.

she isn't perfect, no, but she is human and therefore she is perfectly imperfect. she's got her flaws and she's got her faults and hayley doesn't shy away from showcasing those, either.

tl;dr: sarah miller is the type of character you could run into on the street. she feels very real (to me) so yeah, good job, hayley! i hope you're very proud of what you've created because this oc of yours is an absolute delight!

[nekrophoria]

Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Dolores Webb

№ 2, 7, 9, 13, 14, 17,24.

Thank you for the ask <3

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

The most notable thing is probably that she's a bit of a metalhead, which is something that (for most people) doesn't really fit to her shy and gentle personality.

----------

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Ufff hard to say.

Dolores didn't really have as much room to develop as she deserved yet. I've been kinda neglecting procrastinating her development a bit until she makes a proper appearance in Volatile.

When I initially created her however she started out as a replacement for an OC I scrapped a long long time ago. That OC was sort of a very plain love interest for Mel when I first started playing around in sims.

Since then Dolores devolved into more of a side Character, but at the same time she also became way more complex I'd say. She's also no longer a love interest for Mel (although she had a bit of a crush on him as a kid) That plot turned more into an introspection of her need for affection/approval in order to feel whole.

----------

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Dolores always makes me think of Creep by Radiohead (this cover version by Daniela Andrade in particular)

I would pick out a specific line but honestly the whole song perfectly describes how Dolores perceives herself in comparison to the people around her in my opinion.

----------

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

Most definitely. Dolores reminds me quite a bit of how I used to be as a teenager, I have a lot of sympathy for her. And she's just a super sweet and kind person and very easy to get along with, if you don't mind her insecurities and her being a bit of a hermit, so I wouldn't see how we could not get along.

----------

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

She just wants to be liked and cared about, plain and simple. To her people showing any sort of aversion towards her is pretty unbearable so she tends to be a bit of a people pleaser, but yeah, she mostly just wants people to perceive her favorably.

----------

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise

So many things honestly...but mostly her school time. She was a victim of bullying throughout most of it and never really had any friends, aside from Mel for a short time in elementary school, who dropped the friendship once they went to different schools leaving her completely alone.

Another thing would be her generally being emotionally neglected by most people in her life and never getting the appreciation and affection from people that she deserved as a child.

Also having the two of people she ever really had feelings for fall in love with each other. But that one hasn't happened yet in the story so I'm not sure if it counts ^^"

----------

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

I never really thought about that to be honest.

To be fair, the way her life turned out up to this point wasn't really down to her or her decisions, quite the contrary I think. But...i think if her life circumstances could've been better, if her mother never got ill (which was the main reason she spent a couple of years in a children's home on and off) and she could have grown up in an environment with a better support system, it would have allowed her to become a more self assured and possibly happy version of herself, but she also wouldn't have any connections to my other characters, hence she wouldn't be part of the story.

Apart from that I don't really see many ways in which her life could've been that different.

[nartblartmallcop]

RIP to my dhmis fixation, lets honor it with a bunch of stuff i made and either wanted to pretty up some more or add more pics to before posting but now thats not happening

first off some things that i dont think really need an explanation

first quick sketches of other arts that i just really like and wanted to keep (yea the playlist icons started out as pics for selected red vox songs for each of them)

roy at the very moment where he realises the nature of the world he's in. shortly after this he turns into a gangly beast

pic based on the INCREDIBLE fic "Three Friends, Three Foes, Three Names They'll Never Know" by Eliza Farrow, specifically the quote "Red is love, and rage, warmth and war, luck and passion. Everything was there, under a thick plastering of apathy, his feelings tangled and violent like storms within clouds." from chapter 2 (i actually wanted to draw many things based on moments from the fic because it REALLY sparked my inspo when reading it)

i looked up different hairstyles you can do with freeform dreadlocks like the ones i gave radley and i had way more styles i wanted to do, but these two on their own are also nice

my take on that AU concept where yellow has to dad the other two

was thinking about how naive all three of them actually are and had the idea of an AU where all three of them are children. it would make no sense but thats not what its about it was all about the cute kiddo designs

i actually spent a good few weeks fighting the internal battle of my fucking life on if i would maybe want to change my human designs for radley and quentin cause i felt like the ones here would fit their puppets' appearances better, but i had already grown so attached to my original designs,,, it was a struggle

also my take on the "who used the chainsaw" discourse

quentin would fuck his boss for a promotion. if he hadn't freaked out about how he was brainwashed he would have gone for the gilf

humanization take on duck putting the smallest toast in the toaster: just busting out a flamethrower

radley fighting quentin's internalised racism AND homophobia in one swift sentence

a silly idea i had for a claire humanisation. didnt go with it but the concept is hilarious to me. she just has horns

so the idea i had for the tourism teacher oc (that i didnt make) was that they take the gang to germany for some jokes a la "wow this place is so exotic and strange!!!" when it's just one country to the right. they visit a döner kebab stand in this pic

wanted to use this to set up an arc where quentin locks himself back up in the closet and have it cotribute to some major mental health deterioration. cause i love performing the worst psychological torture on my faves

this started out as "potential tv show season 2 design designs" and then quickly turned into "quentin but hes older,,,, and grumpier,,,, AND in the beginnings of a villain arc" (pure self indulgence)

a height comparison that was my main basis for the refs i made

that shrek AU i promised ages ago. like i said above i really waned to add more to it before posting, at the very least the "Who are you trying to keep out?" "EVERYONE, OKAY?" scene

deltarune AU!! the idea was that yellow is a human who gets posessed by a PLAYER SOUL (a green one instead of red tho) and he goes into a dark world that appeared in his school, but the janitor, duck, sees him, tries to follow him and then he's suddenly in the dark world too! also his mop has come to life and is ridiculousy handsome.

and finally, a little crossover picture i made just before getting fully sucked up by tf2. i genuinely think the two franchises fit each other really nicely tonaly! and also red would 100% play a living meat shield class like heavy and duck would be all insane and violently enthusiastic like soldier. just try to change my mind

[islandiis]

get to know the mun.

what's your phone wallpaper: my lockscreen is a photo my best friend and I took on a small rowboat in Sweden last summer. My background is a cute photo of my parents from behind, made even more special to me by the fact that my dad is wearing our team's football jersey which has our family's name and our football motto on it :)

last song you listened to: Little Dark Age, MGMT

currently reading: PiKHAL by Alexander Shulgin. I read TiKHAL (the second book) first bc I'm more interested in the subject of the second book!

last movie: Ummmm Ég Man Þig?? or Hlemmur?? OR The Cowboy Bebop movie LMFAOOO I can't remember the last movie I watched tbh I don't do that very often

last show: How To Change Your Mind

what are you wearing right now: the leggings I wear under my fishing trousers (I was fishing lmao), a crop top and a university hoodie

piercings/tattoos?: I have my earlobes pierced and seven tattoos!! They are: - a vegvísir and the date I was told I was cancer free (09.02.17, I got the tattoo the day after lol, it was my very first!) - coordinates - a quote from an anime (which is and always has been a very cringe anime but idgaf it brought me joy at the time and I don't fuck with regrets so. Yeah I have a Voltron tattoo that says 'go, be great'). no regrets - "þetta reddast", an Icelandic phrase which means 'things will work out' which sounds great and happy but is also used in like a fake-positivity, dismissive way. I'm not the best with my own emotions sometimes and I felt like it was funny and fitting bc I expect positivity of myself Always (I'm in therapy now lmao) and that ain't realistic - "ævintýri", the Icelandic word for 'adventure' bc that's what my life is all about &lt;3 - a sun, because in the past few years several people have told me I'm "bright like the sun", "the human embodiment of sunshine", etc. and that's the nicest compliment I've ever gotten. I want to keep that with me always :') - a plane, a (semi) matching tattoo I got with a girl in a hostel I met for one (1) day. I held the door for her and we started talking. It was her first time in Ireland so I bought her a Guinness and taught her the word 'sláinte' - we decided we'd get tattoos to commemorate our meeting and carry a wee bit of one another with us :) she got sláinte tattooed but if I got that I'd get beat up bc I'm from the North so she got sláinte and I got a plane (which she had suggested). Everytime I look at that tattoo I think about her and how grateful I am we met, even just for a day.

glasses/contacts?: I wear glasses most of the time but I have contacts I can wear when I feel like!!

last thing you ate: onion rings lmao

favorite colors: YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW!!! I'm slowly making my life as full of yellow as possible bc it brings me joy :)

current obsession: I'm always obsessed with mushrooms and poisons tbh. mycology and toxicology are my shit. Recently I've also been focusing on one biiig passion of mine - getting more involved in activism and advocating for [redacted bc I know the topic can be triggering/sensitive for some people so I want to be mindful]

do you have a crush right now?: that Hozier song that is like "I fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new" is me bc I love people. I just love people. I'm not in love with people, I just love them - friends, strangers, whatever. But yes I have a crush right now lol I'm just sort of going with the flow and not really acknowledging it bc I'm so free spirited that idk where I want to be right now exactly, so I'm just gonna see how it all goes!!

favorite fictional character: OH DAMN. fuck. I mean, Fannar, my OCs Afthas and Hrafna. My best friend's characters (her Finland for example, UGH I'M OBSESSED). Other than that...?? Lio Fotia is my babygirl (and my cosplay victim &lt;;3)

tagged by: @fangmother

tagging: @frestoniia @offreedom @ anyone else who wants to do it!!!

[the-blazing-light]

1, 3, 16, 23, 25 for Arengar! (@commanderhorncleaver)

Thank you for the ask! ;w;

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

"We're charr. We don't do regret. We make choices, and we own them. Good or bad. We win, we take the glory; we lose, we take the shame."

This quote from Bangar is actually one of my favorite ones in the entire game and the one I mention a lot in regards to Arengar, since he's definitely got the same point of view. He doesn't really agonize over his choices, even if they were bad, he just takes it where he left off and tries to fix what happened, intent on learning from his mistakes this time. Point being, he doesn't really have memories he'd want to forget, good or bad, happy or painful, he feels like all of them constitute who he is now, even if it hurts to remember it's still important to him all the same.

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

One of the main things about Arengar is that he's stubborn, which is both his strength and a fatal flaw, and he's slowly learning to recognize it. He's rigid, if he picked a path to go down he will follow it to the bitter end and is extremely hard to convince otherwise or make some adjustments to his plan, he dislikes change and will stubbornly follow the directive he set for himself despite all odds. It showed the best in his relationship with Aurene which was very rocky, it took a lot of time for Arengar to accept Aurene as an ally and become her champion, instead of treating her like a ticking bomb that can go off at any second: for someone who made it his life duty killing dragons and protecting Tyria of them, the idea of having to now not only stop doing that but also raise and nurture one was not easy to accept to say the least. This is also a reason why initially he empatizes a lot with Bangar and general distrust of legions' to Aurene, having to fight beside the granddaughter of Kralkatorrik, dragon that branded swaths of his homeland took him a lot of time and development to adjust to.

16. What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

As it might be expected from a Blood Legion charr, pretty high. Arengar's been a frontline soldier his entire life, at some point you just learn to accept pain as a part of it and push through it, even to an extent that left him with permanent injuries.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

More or less any negative emotion that ain't anger, growing up wanting to be a legion soldier worthy of respect, Arengar got a tendency of repressing emotions, pushing all his fears, pains and concerns down until it all bursts open, and down the line with becoming the Commander he couldn't let himself get down and process his grief and sadness either, feeling responsible for giving people that image of a perfect Commander leading them into battle, someone always confident and ready to take on any challenge, be a pillar of stability and courage, which has certainly taken a toll on his mental health. He's got a lot of trouble showing vunerability, asking for help or support instead of letting it all just boil alone.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Ironically enough, actually his stubbornness as well. His willingness to go against the flow and push against all odds, do absolutely anything he has to in order to do what he thinks is right. He will see what fate has in store for him and for the world and just toss it all aside, fight it until his dying breath, because as long as you're alive you're the only one who can decide your destiny and change it as you see fit.

[matchademi]

5, 9, 21, 23, 25 Falls, Tic, and Sooool plssss vod’ikaaaa 💙💙💙 (no rush tho)

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Falls:he is so selfless that he would happily give up his own life for his brothers. He has, on a few occasions, given his own blood to brothers while working to keep them alive. He is gotten scolded by his brothers in the 501st and the Corrie guard for this, but he doesn't care

Tic: If he could tear apart the galaxy together his old battalion back he would in a heart beat, he would be considered a deserter risk when he first joined the Corrie guard

Sol: he would happily volunteer himself for decommissioning if it meant he could stop it from happening permanently. He would never tell anyone this but he has threated to several times

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Falls:pretty much the entire song, but this line specifically

"Called to the Devil and the Devil said

Hey! Why you been calling this late?

It's like 2 A.M. and the bars all close at 10 in hell, that's a rule I made

Anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself

And you don't want no help, oh well

That's the story to tell"

Tic: This makes me think of his grief of losing his battalion

"But i know wounds will heal

But it's hard for me to tell what's fake and what's real

Sometimes i even think that i died that day

And i'm imagining my life and it's stuck on replay"

Sol:we all know the song I think about for him, but it's this line specifically

"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringin'

Roman Cavalry choirs are singin'

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason, I can't explain

Once you'd gone, there was never, never an honest word

And that was when I ruled the world"

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

Fall:As I said, he gets really bad migraines after removing his chip, but honestly, his biggest issue is his ADHD. He has the inattentive type, so he'll either not do anything for hours or spend days hyper focusing on something

Tic:he deals with tics (not like tourettes but just small tics. I deal with them a lot), and after losing his battalion, he ended up with a trauma induced stutter, and his tics get worse

Sol:Not so many illnesses or disorders, but his knee injury really starts to get worse as time goes on. After he left Kamino, he would need crunches and a leg bracefor years. He hates it but if he trys to go without them he gets screamed at

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Honestly, for me, this is a one answer fits all (plus I spent like 10 minutes looking at lists of emotions, but I'm autistic so I don't really understand them oop) and that is feeling safe (idk if that's a emotion but let's all roll with it) they have all gone through their own personal hells and so feeling safe is not easy for any of them. Tic is the most obvious after losing his battalion he will for a long time feel like he will lose everyone he cares for again after joining the corrie guards. Falls has had to always look over his shoulder and be one of the best to avoid decommissioning. And Sol never fully released he felt so unsafe on Kamino till he left

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Falls:he was my first clone oc in this Fandom, and he allowed me to connect to a lot of other people. Also, his kindness and willingness to help others, even if it's out of his comfort zone

Tic:he is me in a lot of ways with the stuttering and ticking, and it's nice to have a character to show that part of me

Sol:he is just pure sunshine (also, he shows now love for kids, especially my nephews )