#the concept of someone going through life looking like him made him feel irrationally annoyed

[multishipper-baby]

Random thought but, while Owynn would've had problems with Rayray no matter what (since he didn't want kids), I do imagine that Ray looking a lot like him probably... Didn't help matters.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 25

Y/n puts an end to everything.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

⚠️HUGE⚠️ trigger warnings: rape, drugging, sex trafficking, VERY graphic descriptions of violence, physical violence (please let me know if I leave anything out)

Hannibal could walk through a valley of human suffering and not even flinch. You couldn't tell if that made him subhuman or superhuman. You, however, were just human.

You wanted to be a badass. You wanted to kick the door down and make a scene. But one woman was enough to break you.

She was wearing only a large t-shirt. A cloth bandage covered in blood covered her pubic area like a makeshift pair of underpants. She laid limply against a stone. Her arms were punctured where needles had been.

"I don't..." she mumbled, clearly intoxicated beyond function. "...don't make me..."

You knew you couldn't afford to stop. But compassion kept your feet firmly on the ground in front of her.

"What is Chase making you do?"

"I can't-" She said, pressing her forehead against the rock. "I can't be an unwoman-"

She began to slam her head against the rock with clear intent to take her own life. Without thinking, you grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the grass. She sobbed, a bloody, but thankfully, survivable, gash on her forehead.

"Tell me your name." You demanded, squeezing her shoulders.

"...Tiffany." She said with a sudden lucidity.

The name unlocked a memory in you. It was the still image of a sunny young girl, immortalized on a faded missing person's ad hung up at the grocery store. Tiffany Rose Pierce, it read.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, Tiffany." You whispered. "I'm gonna get all of you out of here."

"Vanguard won't like that." She said, slipping back into a state of minimal consciousness.

"Stay here." You instructed, pushing yourself back to your feet.

You readied your gun and slowly, carefully pushed the cabin door open. Suddenly, the stained glass window was the least of your worries.

The entire area was lined with cheaply-constructed bunk beds, like an overgrown henhouse. Women with distinctively long hair were shackled to the lower bunks. Their shaven counterparts, the unwomen, were forced to be the slavedrivers. They held the chained women down.

You heard the rattling of chains coming from the right. It was accompanied with screaming and wet slapping.

"Take daddy's cock you filthy fucking broodmare." A familiar voice grunted.

The only way you could look at him was behind the barrel of your gun. He was exactly how you pictured him while listening to his voice in the car. Unremarkable, middle-aged and serpentine.

"Pastor Armitage!" You yelled.

To hear someone call him by his title in the midst of violating a person was enough to send him into a panic. He sputtered and his entire face turned red.

He didn't suffer for long, though. A 12 gauge shell right through the face took care of that. Fragments of his head, his blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. His knees buckled and his limp body collapsed.

The room fell silent. Smoke trickled out of your barrel.

"Where's fucking Chase?" You asked the room.

Someone weakly pointed up the stairs. You met her eyes and nodded.

"Sorry about the mess."

Now you knew how Hannibal felt. Blowing someone's head off made you acutely aware of your own head on your shoulders. You held it higher. You felt no remorse as you ascended the staircase with your gun blazing.

You came across a room with some words etched in the door. 'Skin room'. You launched your foot squarely into the door, causing it to violently swing open. 

You examined the room from behind the gun. Chase had done a hell of a job dressing up this cheap cabin bedroom like a hotel suite, but the smell hit you before you could be fooled. A brick chimney, a wine cooler and a mahogany desk were positioned so the eye would gravitate towards the luxury while the nose picked up the brutality. The stained glass window was suspended in front of the real window, absorbing the mid-morning light and giving the room an eerie sepia tint. 

You cocked your gun to announce your presence. You heard the sound of running water, and then a side door swung open. 

“You’ll forgive me a couple minutes to freshen up.” Chase said, shaking his hands dry. “Cleanliness is close to godliness, after all.” 

You said nothing. You didn’t want to dignify him with a conversation. 

He bent over and pulled a bottle of wine from his cooler. He placed it squarely on the desk. You looked at it, then did a double take. He grinned sadistically. 

“Is that...” You leaned in to get a closer look. “1907 Heidsieck Monople Gout?” 

Chase shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the wine expert.” 

You’d heard many a conflicting story about the legendary 1907 Heidsieck. Some said as many as 2,000 bottles were pulled up from the depths of the freezing Baltic sea. Some said a single bottle could go for half a million dollars. With that kind of precedent, you never thought you’d ever have to worry about it. Yet, there it was. Right in front of you. 

“I’m saving it for a special occasion.” Chase said, suddenly reminding you where you were.

You returned to your gun. “For when you kill me?” 

“For when I save you.” Chase smiled, his unnaturally white teeth glistening in the sepia light. “See, Miss [F/N], you survived two of my attempts on your life. God has smiled down on you.” 

“Or, maybe,” You interrupted. “You’re just horrible at killing.” 

Chase raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"A knife through the hand hurts like a bitch, but it isn't fatal." You shrugged. "And you didn't do a good enough job beating the fear of death out of Catherine. Else she might have actually gone through with it. Maybe if you'd sent Tiffany-"

"God loves you." Chase interrupted before you could poke more holes in his attempts on your life. "Why you're still alive when so many less deserving of death have died is beyond me, but god works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?"

"She sure does." You smirked.

Chase cleared his throat. You'd pegged him as the type to get irrationally angry at the implication of god being a woman, so his reaction surprised you.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" He gestured to a seat across from him.

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think so."

"Pity." He pouted. "Not even for poor Mr. Graham?"

It dawned on you that he probably still thought he had Will, and you could use it to your advantage.

You held your gun at your side and hesitantly sat down in the seat. A gluttonous smile spread across Chase's face.

"So it wasn't wine after all." He said. "It wasn't even your own life. You're only willing to save your soul for the sake of your precious Will Graham."

"What do you care?" You growled through your teeth. "This is just a power grab for you. You wouldn't know what genuine empathy for another person feels like."

He grinned, as if someone had just flipped his 'on' switch. "Jesus does."

"Did Jesus use his influence to lure teenage girls into a sick breeding ring?" You sneered. "I don't remember that from VeggieTales."

"Genesis 1:28." Chase said. "And God blessed them, and God said unto them, be fruitful, and multiply."

"I suppose you also don't eat shellfish or wear mixed fabrics." You rolled your eyes.

"It's always the same arguments from you atheists." Chase scoffed, adding a distinct bite to the last word. "When are you going to show some actual proof that the bible isn't an infallible model for human morality?"

"Maybe when you stop eating shellfish and wearing mixed fabrics." You repeated.

"They are minor sins at best." Chase grimaced. "I have gotten right with Jesus. You, on the other hand, oh, you. Your sins are weighty."

"I did just blast a rapist's head off." You admitted. "And it's going to be two very soon if this one doesn't get to the fucking point."

"I know about your exploits." He squinted. "With Mr. Graham and the man with the Nazi accent."

"He's actually from Lithuania, which, if you wanna be technical," you corrected, just for the sake of being annoying. "Is an ex-Soviet state, but whatever."

Chase tensed up at being corrected. "I know about your hedonistic sexual activities with two men, your exploration. But in the bible, Satan approaches these two people called Adam and Eve..."

"No he didn't." You shook your head. "It was a serpent. The devil wasn't a concept when Genesis was written."

Chase gritted his teeth. "God made one man and one woman. Each to fill each other's sexual desires, within the context of marriage, entirely-"

"But Adam had two spouses, didn't he?" You cocked your head and smiled. "Eve wasn't even the first woman in Adam's life. That was Lilith."

Chase heaved a frustrated sigh. "How do you know that?!"

"I was raised catholic." You said in the tonal equivalent of smacking him upside the head. "I was forced into religion at a young age and brainwashed to hate myself."

"See, that's where we agree." Chase tented his hands, thinking he found a genuine point of connection. "Organized religion is a cancer on society. Christianity is fundamentally about a relationship with god."

You laughed. It was the first real, good laugh you had in a while.

"Don't laugh." He scolded. "I am sorry that that was your experience with religion and that the Catholic church modeled a false teaching of who god is and what he wants. Not all christians-"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "Homie, you killed four people in front of me."

He placed his hand over his heart. "And christ forgave me. And he can forgive you too."

"Alright, this has been fun and everything," you said, standing up. You aimed your shotgun and cocked it. "But, I did come here to kill you, so, open wide."

Chase put his hand squarely over the barrel and pushed it out of the way. "You don’t have the guts to pull the trigger."

You pulled the trigger and blasted his hand clean off. Any hope of reattachment was shattered, as bits of his hand painted the walls and floor.

You opened the gun and let the two empty shells fall to the ground while Chase screamed in agony.

Instead of going through the motions of reloading, you smashed him over the head with the gun. He wrapped his good hand around the barrel and attempted to wrestle it away from you. You took this as an invitation to corner him against the wall with the still-hot barrel against his neck. He smashed his forehead into your nose, sending you tumbling backwards.

The shotgun fell to the ground. You pinched the bridge of your nose to control the blood flow. Chase wrapped a champagne towel around his stump and picked up a small revolver on his desk. He let off a shot, which lodged itself into your shoulder. By the time he let off the second shot, you were on the ground. The third shot didn't fire, just let out a flash and a bang.

"Goddamn blanks!" He cursed.

He tore open a drawer and rummaged around for bullets, giving you a window to come up from behind and gouge your fingers into his eyes. He screamed, dropping a handful of bullets. He flailed aimlessly, then charged backwards, slamming you into the cheap drywall.

He felt around for the bullets without the advent of eyesight. You knew you wouldn't be able to take aim with your shotgun with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, so you dove for the revolver.

Chase grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you down. You hit the floor with a thud, the collision making the bullets jump. Chase grinned, using the sound to place them. He turned around and reached for one, while you scooped up another that had rolled under the desk.

You scrambled to your feet. Chase's hand was just centimeters from the revolver. Thinking fast (but not so thoroughly), you grabbed for the revolver. You wrapped your hand around the barrel, putting yourself at a disadvantage if he fired off another blank.

Chase, however, wasn't that forward-thinking, and opted for a childish game of tug-of-war instead. Knowing he had the brute strength advantage, you waited for him to pull back and released your grip. Chase tumbled, cursing on his way down.

With no thought on your mind but ending this, you launched your foot into his sack, causing him to scream and drop the gun.

Just as you thought it was over, just when the gun was in arm's reach, he kicked your knees backwards and you fell. You swallowed the pain and army crawled for the revolver.

"I don't think so." Chase spat, smiling like a maniac. He grabbed your face with his good hand and his fingers slithered down your throat.

"Choke..." he demanded. "Choke, demoness."

Strengthened by animalistic instinct, you crushed his fingers under your teeth. The sound of snapping bone filled the inside of your head and a sudden rush of blood flooded into your mouth. He withdrew his hand, leaving a finger behind to limply fall down your throat.

You coughed and gagged while Chase screamed. A single bloody digit dislodged itself from your windpipe, flew across the room and landed on the desk.

Chase sputtered something resembling a laugh. "Maybe you're not such a dumb bitch after all."

You grabbed the gun and pushed yourself up with the help of the desk. The finger stared up at you as you loaded the single bullet.

You positioned the finger onto the trigger and guided it with your gloved hand. Then you aimed it at his forehead. Dead by his gun, by his trigger finger. Bleeding on the ground in his private bunker while the empire he built collapses around him. A coward's death. It was poetic enough an end as he deserved.

"You want to say a prayer before you meet god?" You offered.

"My soul is saved." Chase said through ragged breaths. "My place in heaven is secured."

Bang. One bullet, right between the eyes. A bloody fingerprint on the pistol. You dropped the revolver and collapsed. You just laid there, listening to your phone buzz.

[sepublic]

G1 Starscream Ramblings

           The interesting thing to me about G1 Starscream, specifically the one from the cartoon is… He very much gives me ‘young upstart vibes’, the hot-headed rookie that’s fresh into war, just graduated, and is eager to fight and prove himself. Especially with his line about how ‘his time will come’, I get the vibe that Starscream sees Megatron as almost being outdated hardware, some crankety old-timer whose come and gone and outlived his prime (eventually literally as of the movie), which fits with how Megs was around since the beginning and founded the Decepticons from the start.

           And it’s this disrespectful, irreverent attitude, that constant questioning because he lacks experience and assumes it’s way simpler and easier than it actually is… It all just (star)screams new, fresh recruit who thinks he’s all that, wide-eyed and idealized and thinking he can take on the entire world, instead of being a battle-hardened veteran who’s been humbled and is more prone to the realities of war and its complexities. It’d play into Starscream being so power-hungry, wanting instant gratification and glory, and always being impatient about this sort of thing without really thinking things through, he’s an impulsive brat.

           Maybe he’s even the Cybertronian equivalent to a rich brat who got where he did thanks to his family’s high-end connections, and so there’s always that judging from more experienced soldiers about how Starscream is clearly operating on a lot of privilege, wearing shoes multiple sizes too big for him, and generally making a fool of himself as he parades around, treating the whole situation like an opportunity for fame and adulation, like he’s some celebrity indulging in the fun, and not a general and a commander who has to keep fighting for the cause, make the right and mature calls, all that.

           Because it’s worth noting that a lot of times in G1, he ends up acting out-of-line and doing costly maneuvers that hinder the Decepticons- Most notably, trying to bury the Autobots and accidentally awakening them in the process. And it’s this eagerness to get into fighting and prove himself that leads to Starscream short-sightedly wanting to focus on attacking the Autobots because they’re right there, picking a fight- When Megatron, who is older and more level-headed, has to steer this brash new kid in the right direction, set him on track with the proper agenda and mission. Maybe whip him into shape a bit, and this could all play into Megs’ patience because Starscream is just a dumb kid, so he’s willing to give him some more doubt- Give Starscream some time to actually cool down and taste reality and he’ll surely fall into line.

           He’s like some kid who grew up on military propaganda and bought into a bit too well, saw himself too much in those glamorous posters and manufactured, idealized images; So he’s pretty disappointed that it doesn’t turn out the way he expected it to. Starscream is like that popular kid in high school who always had a clique trailing behind him, and he kind of took it for granted how much he meant to these people because clearly their worlds revolve around him, which makes him all the more blindsided when he turns for help and his ‘friends’ immediately abandon him at the drop of a hat.

          All of Starscream’s ‘friends’ and social situations were blatantly manufactured and brought up by somebody else, but he thinks it was all him so he’s in for a real shock when Starscream is by himself- And people don’t immediately fall in line at his beck and call, so he falters. He’s out of his environment, just graduated all of his usual tricks don’t work, try as he might to stubbornly reapply them like a hammer with anything that looks remotely nail-shaped. It’s this kind of idiotic hypocrisy that makes Starscream not realize that people who do put up with him only do so because they have to, and/or they’re opportunistically kissing up to his façade the way he does with others. Starscream’s grandiose imagination and outlandish, fantasy ‘ideas’ straight out of fiction and films that clearly don’t work in real life, clearly need to be reined in.

           I also like to think that similar to that comparison I made earlier, he DOES have connections- Maybe it’s a Team Rocket situation, where the character is incompetent… But they had a parent who the leader greatly respected, and so they begrudgingly put up with their kid’s foolish antics and incompetent failures out of respect for that posthumous minion’s last wishes. Kind of like Hopper from A Bug’s Life really wanting to kill his brother, but because his mother explicitly told him NOT to on her deathbed, he kind of has to force himself not to because he still feels beholden to her- But there’s certainly no warmth on his end just because that person he respects, was fond of this dude he hates.

           It could factor into Megatron constantly tolerating Starscream as a thorn in his side… And really, Starscream seems to be even more of an idiot at times than Megatron, what with Megatron going into a spiel that one time about how Starscream lost because he lacked strategy. Perhaps Starscream is, like, SUPER skilled in combat, a beast and a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield; And if he’s doing so well and he’s so strong, then surely this means he’s fit to be leader, because obviously the Decepticon who’s the best fighter should lead, right? It’s a gross oversimplification of a narrow-minded worldview… And I imagine Starscream also somewhat got where he was because of privilege, so he kind of takes a lot of things for granted here about how the Decepticon faction works and its hierarchy and rules.

          Perhaps Starscream being an utter beast in combat contributes to Megatron keeping him around- He IS useful, he just needs some proper guidance and a good head to productively channel that ability. He’s confusing fighting ability with actual tactical leadership and charisma, but beyond that, Starscream clearly knows how to get out of a scrape, and has no reservations about playing dirty to add to his already potent combat skills as-is. So Megatron still has some hopes for Starscream, while sternly warning him not to make him regret his decision in further tolerating his nonsense- Because Megatron likes to think he’s a forgive and forget kind of guy, but only to people who justify themselves in his eyes as being strong and powerful, traits he actually respects.

          Maybe Megatron even sees a little bit of his young self in Starscream, and so there’s that hope for a pay-off; That if he just gives Starscream a chance and proper guidance, that if the kid has someone who can set him on the right track and help him figure things out- Then he can really live up to his potential! Because that’s what Starscream is- Potential. Raw, untapped potential, clumsily thrown about and unrefined… But it’s there and Megatron would hate to make a waste of it, especially since this whole conflict is about resources; Even the hedonistic Decepticons have to be mindful of how they use things, how efficient they are.

           Of course, having his constant patience and mercy, his tolerating, waiting in eternal hope for his investment into Starscream to finally pay off… Megatron is tired of giving him second chances, tired of how ungrateful this brat is, and how his failures keep adding up. So when Starscream straight-up throws him out to die, coupled with his reformatting into Galvatron… And Galvatron’s had about enough of this, he’s done and sick and tired of Starscream’s antics. After having people put up with him for so long, Starscream really begins to overestimate just how important and useful he is to them, that eventually he’ll reach a point where his negatives outweigh his positives, but he never considers this and believes he’ll always be allowed back into the fold after each betrayal…

          Literally everything about Starscream’s coronation yells in-over-his-head kid who really has to compensate for his lack of leadership and respect from others by playing up the adulation and the glamour, but… If he HAD been given a chance to actually lead, his reckless impatience and short-sightedness would’ve definitely led the Decepticons to ruin, and someone would’ve had to stage a coup. Even Starscream’s use in combat would stop paying off for him as he becomes too much of a liability.

          And it’s this inexperienced, clearly insecure demeanor that makes Starscream impatiently yell at the Constructicons to get to the point. He really can’t make up his mind and stick to it, so even though he has this music being played in the first place, Starscream just as quickly regrets and finds it annoying because he’s not particularly deliberate nor thoughtful about what he does. He knows what others think of them, that they don’t respect nor take him seriously, and it gets to his head and makes him irrationally angry because he doesn’t know to handle this, he expected this to be so much easier, to be as simple and done as THIS. Starscream really isn’t equipped to handle actually navigating around people from a charismatic standpoint and earning their trust, especially given his history as backstabber who has no concept of loyalty and bonds because he’s arrogant enough to think he can do it all on his own.

          And when faced with genuine adversity and reality, as we see… Starscream very immaturely fumbles and trips, and then defaults to begging and pleading because he hasn’t built up much of a spine, and he’s still an idealistic kid who clearly hasn’t built himself up and his fortitude all that well. He’s promising with snot dribbling down his nose that he won’t screw up this time, please give him a second chance he didn’t MEAN it, he seriously did not expect nor consider the consequences of his actions, nor how they could backfire and blow up in his face.

          Starscream is an upper-class snob who doesn’t really get it, he’s eager for approval because he’s young but also clearly selfish and ungrateful about it, because he’s always entitled to that thing and so when it DOES come around, it both means a lot, but also it’s about time, he was waiting for so long just to get the bare minimum he was owed, don’t pat yourself on the back for doing what you’re already meant to. And when things go wrong, Starscream blunders and starts to doubt himself because he was pampered, privileged, and sheltered, constantly told he was amazing- And so he doesn’t actually know how to handle failure and was always used to things coming easily to him on a silver platter, while having someone else to clean up the mess for him and protect him from the consequences. Starscream doesn’t appreciate the actual work that it takes for things, he’s basically spoiled and out of his environment in this military setting where nobody is having it.

           Of course, when Starscream IS spared and recovers, he then silently fumes because he totally would’ve succeeded had THIS happened, or if this other person hadn’t screwed up- And then he fails to learn any of his lessons and keeps trying to take over and take charge, because obviously he knows better and he thinks all of his ideas are the best in the world. When faced with past failures, he doesn’t learn he just denies them as soon as they’re not being shoved in his face anymore, like a child who wet the bedsheets and is now frantically hiding them. He has no real clue nor idea about what he’s doing, but as soon as it’s over he again takes for granted the safety net that his fellow Decepticons begrudgingly provide, and wants again continues to test their patience and resources.

           So, when Galvatron DOES come around and kill Starscream- The Decepticons are clearly elated, and if we’re being real here… They were all probably thinking of ways to assassinate or depose Starscream, or at least play to his ego so he could remain a figurehead who occasionally goes out into battle doing the one thing he’s good at, while his oh-so-loyal lieutenants do the dirty, unglamorous work of actually being a tactician and leader for hm. Starscream wants all of the power and fame, but like- NONE of the actual work and responsibility, that’s too much for him to actually work on so he just stamps his foot frustratedly when others don’t treat him with the respect he deserves, because he DOES recognize his own potential and expects other to revere Starscream for what he could be, VS what he actually currently is… And because he’s so caught up in the idea of what he thinks he’ll inevitably be, he never works on his current self so he can actually get to that point.

           Like I said- Galvatron killing him saved the Decepticons a LOT of much-needed stress and headaches. It got that young brat and upstart out of the way so they could all get to business and not have to deal with his nonsense anymore, because he ain’t getting any deader! There was some hesitation about what COULD be lost if they did away with him, but now he’s gone and so all they can do is just reap the benefits of Starscream’s death! It’s almost relieving- Like YEAH, we were prepared on how to handle this… But then Galvatron came and made things so much easier, he got this off our hands and he’s clearly bold and decisive and knows what he’s doing, taking out Starscream made him VERY popular, in addition to basically being Megatron with a new coat of paint;

           Up until his lava-bath fried his circuits… And then Galvatron basically became the Decepticon Leader Starscream that everybody feared, ironically enough. And then it was Cyclonus who had to do the job of looking after this dude, who was less a reckless young upstart and more like a senile old veteran gone mad and blindly waving his cane around; And then complications get worse when Starscream somehow returns as a GHOST, because why not? Sure, let’s go with that, we already have Galvatron seemingly saving us from Starscream, only to become the new one… Let’s compare him with the original and see what happens, why not? There must’ve been a lot of collective groans of exhaustion at each and every new development.

          The Decepticons must be so exasperated, it really feels like they’ve been on a downward slope, outlived their prime and golden age since the Battle of Autobot City… Yet despite Megatron’s failures they remember him fondly because he did a lot of other things right, was otherwise charismatic, and seemed pretty close to actually winning, all things considered. And so the Decepticons are too caught up in their delusional nostalgia and what-ifs, the way Starscream is about his own future, to really remember that Megatron kind of screwed them over with that risky, costly maneuver that clearly didn’t pay off.

[beastlycoffee]

On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine? He showers almost every day, sometimes twice (once after his morning run and usually after work), and prefers scalding hot water. It's... hygienic, but isn't great for the skin and hair so he uses a basic moisturizer on his face and conditions his hair and that's about it. He's long given up on his hands being anything but rough, calloused and stained.   What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way? He isn't at all picky and will eat almost anything, but grew up with his family cooking a lot of traditional Arab and Middle Eastern foods so he has a slight nostalgic bias for those flavor profiles  and ingredients (lamb, mint, chick peas, lentils, harissa, etc.). He loves spicy food, both in terms of heat and flavor, to the point of regularly snacking on raw chili's.

Due to his inhuman nature, he burns through a much higher calorie load per day than a normal person (with similar consequences of being a bit tired and irritable if he misses his goal for too many days in a row, but nothing catastrophic). He compensates by munching on small, frequent high-calorie and high-protein foods in between proper meals. Cheese, nuts, hard boiled eggs, dried fruit, avocados, jerky, etc. His desk drawers in the shop are usually a prime foraging ground for snacks, which he will cautiously allow. He tries to eat healthy most of the time, but is definitely not one to turn his nose up at junk food if it's going to hit the spot.

His best food love in life will always be sandwiches.

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

People who refer to their pets as fur babies. It's a dog, fuck off. 

What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

He doesn't mind giving a spare buck or two if they're straightforward about it, especially if they approach him first since he's... kind of an intimidating-looking dude and hey, props. He doesn't consider it any of his business what they use it for, and if the request comes with an obviously construed sob story then he's more inclined to tell them to take a hike.

Doesn't stop for pan handlers at intersections or anything where he's driving, though. 

Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost? Not usually? He has a decent sense of direction and knows how to use a GPS/his phone so it's usually a non-issue. In a foreign city and where he has no access to directions he might be a little more worried, but his anxiety is less social and more internal, so he's not above asking strangers. 

What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation? This is, obviously, very situational. It depends on the people and circumstances involved. Abe tries to be a decent person, and in most situations he'll try to do The Right Thing, but there are obviously some grey areas. Would he return someone's dropped wallet on the street? Of course. Does he also strip and sell stolen cars for profit by moonlight? ... also yes.

I'll expound on that a little bit, since it's a pretty good example of his moral compass and there are a lot of variables.

Running a chop shop obviously isn't something that he just one day decided to do for a thrill (he's not Casey). It was born out of financial desperation, explicit knowledge about how the automotive industry works, running with a fairly rough and tumble crowd at the time, and working through some pretty emotionally rough times of his own. Although his parents weren't destitute by any means,  he wanted very fucking little to do with either of them after the long, drawn-out media trash fire of his mother's court case and eventual incarceration. His dad's deportation was just... mwuah. Cherry on the cake. Instead, he cut off all contact with them after filing for legal guardianship of his sister and kept their collective heads low while he worked in buddies' garages, as a line cook, working overnight loading shifts at warehouses, etc.

Given some of the friends and cohorts he had at the time, not all of whom had squeaky clean records themselves, one thing led to another and it turns out that hey, petty crime is a lot easier than working yourself to the fucking bone every night to put food on the table!

He was about 20 at this time, so... you know, young, dumb, full of anger and hurt and pride. Fuck you, world. Fuck you very much. I don't want your help.

Obviously this was also rather stupidly risky given how highly publicized his mother's legal battle was. He kept it pretty small time and low-key for the first couple of years, until things had cooled down, but it's still kind of a miracle that he didn't get himself caught red-handed for anything major. He was still struggling for sure though, even with his side hustles. This was also about the time that Casey drifted back into his life. Rather than a hand-out or an inheritance, hey what do you know this old family friend is a pro at cheating the system and he has definitely stolen cars more than a few times in his long, long life. So even though Casey's moral compass is spinning at 200 mph at all times, it's the first kind of support system that Abe doesn't immediately reject, and the rest is a bit history.

Now, of course, he's in his early 30's, his sister is independent enough to be moved out and working on her own, and his day job of an auto repair shop is actually doing pretty damned good, enough that he could comfortably live on it. He's matured enough to regret the people he's indirectly screwed over through his criminal activities, and would love to just go legitimate from now on. Even if things fail, he's made amends with his father and his pride and feels comfortable in his support if everything somehow goes to shit.

It's easier said than done to just cut ties and fly away from the people and the criminal network he's quietly embroiled himself in for over a decade, though. He's really, really good at it by now, a reliable supplier, and always hides his tracks well. But he's a big boy, he can get through that he thinks, make a graceful exit. Yet there's still that "what if" anxiety over pulling the plug on something that’s running smoothly and having it blow up in his face. Not just financially, but legally. He's happier than he has been in a while, has a stable relationship, a good job outside of the chop shop, etc. As much as he's constantly vexed by Casey and considers him a chaotic nuisance in his day to day life, Abe also has healthy amounts of both respect for and fear of him. He's not an easy person to read or anticipate, and Abe has worked himself into knots over how the dullahan will react if he tells him he wants to go cold turkey.

So that's... that's a bit where he's at right now. Not doing The Right Thing in the overall picture, but somewhat paralyzed by anxiety and some concept of loyalty. Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at thier own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

Absolutely. Criminal activities aside, Abe is a very responsible person. He basically raised his much younger sister when he was barely out of teenager-hood himself. He also has a small dog that he basically removed from her care when she was going through her own growing pains and wasn't properly taking care of her, and has since turned the pup into a model citizen (that he still dotes on very much, to be sure). He's not exactly a nurturing person, he doesn't think, and has zero plans on having kids of his own, but he's definitely the first pick of his employees and friends who need a dog-sitter for the weekend. In a pinch, he has even been begged into watching their actual kids for an afternoon or so. If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically. Haha, he would have an absolute fucking meltdown! Abe doesn't consider himself very smart, to the point of being a bit self-conscious about it. He was a solid average student in high school that got by on a lot of athletic merit. Of course, like many people, he does have a lot of intelligence in very specific areas but has a hard time equating that to bookish or academic knowledge.    What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

I don't know about pointlessly cruel. He's definitely the type to get back at people who are riling him up via a sharp word or prank, but he's not the type (anymore) to pick fights over nothing. Lose his temper easily, yes, and especially in the past, but he's aware of his issues with that and works hard to control them now. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens? Definitely leaning more towards the former. Probably one good "what the fuck is happening" panic attack before locking down into survival mode and just trying to size up how to either get along with or take out who he needs to in order to protect himself/his loved ones. What song is 100% garunteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and emabarrasingly, either in public or the shower?

"The Number of the Beast" by Iron Maiden, but lots of classic metal hits. He's not shy about singing, like, ABBA or Queen, either, around anyone including his actual musician boyfriend. Moreso in the kitchen when he's cooking than the shower (that's for adult activities) but you know. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies thier neighbors?

He doesn't have close neighbors on purpose, to disguise the traffic and noise of his after-hours activities. Beyond the obvious, though, most people's back yards don't habitually explode into temporary infernos when they need to let off some steam and/or are so fucking sick of winter that a built-in flamethrower seems better than shoveling. Under what circumstances would your OC appear naked in public?

Uh, hm. He's not uncomfortable with his naked body, quite the opposite (dude keeps in shape very much on purpose, okay?) He might be cajoled into nude modeling for an art class or something if he had the explicit consent of his partner, but otherwise it's just when he takes his glamour off. Even then, there seems to be a bit of intentional magical finagling that conceals the important bits from the public eye because he's not an actual animal and nobody needs to see a thirteen foot monster just hanging dong in the middle of the park. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for?

Minor idiosyncrasies and major political decisions both aside, Abe exists in a universe where the inhumans can be anywhere from approximate to human lifespans or to flying off into the several century/millenia mark, with any variation in between given the individual and their species. He's a relatively "young" monster, in his 30's, but both of his parents are much, much older and have lived whole, complex lives for centuries that didn't include him.

Samir and Raima definitely went out of their way to acclimate themselves into modern society, and how they raised their kids, so it wasn't like his childhood was that out of the ordinary (for being, you know, a family of djinn and with immigrant parents). That said, sometimes he struggles with the concept that  his parents both have other, grown children from past relationships that he'll never probably meet or know about. Even though he's an adult by human and mental standards, he recognizes that he hasn't lived long enough to even really conceive of the whole lifespans of two people that are closest to him, and that's... a bit wild?

He feels this way with Casey to an extent, too, but Casey isn't family, and also presents himself as a bit more pointedly abnormal, so it's harder to subject him to human standards. Raima however was definitely the PTA mom who showed up with perfect brownies and was also old enough to kick it with Achaemenes.

How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

Pretty often, but it's not usually a problem. He's been working as a mechanic long enough that his day job is pretty old-hat, comfortable but not boring and he can go through the day on autopilot if he needs to or has too little sleep (not... uncommon). He still gets a little adrenaline thrill with a backlash of minor guilt and frustration from his midnight escapades, and is much more mentally present and on alert for those.

For the rest of his life and hobbies, Abe tries to be present. If he's lazy or spacy, it's only with close friends or his boyfriend in his downtime, with whom the mood can be shared or else discussed if it becomes an issue. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened becuase of thier Impulsivity or inability to be so?

As far as immediate gratification impulses, Abe is alright. He has minor impulsive thoughts, like anyone, that lead to bad take-out or doing something fun over something he doesn't want to focus on, but overall he's a largely responsible adult.

The only major caveat is that he's an ifrit, and he falls victim to the tropes of many fire elementals. Namely, his powers are tied to his emotions, and they naturally tend to run high. It's taken him most of his life to get a good handle on it and even though his emotional and physical control is really quite good these days, he still has his moments that he's deeply ashamed of.

When he was younger, singed furnishings were the norm and went hand in hand with any young child's emotional meltdowns. Fortunately, his dad was also an ifrit, thusly fireproof, and could mitigate the damage. Things were a little dodgy for his adolescent, teenage, and young adult years. He scorched a few people, some needed medical attention, he ate himself up with guilt until he cried, got better about his control, you know the pyro drill.

He's never seriously hospitalized anyone or burned down anything irreplaceable, and he's much better about his emotions and temperament now, but there's still that razor's edge of doubt that's always present in his thoughts.   How does your OC sabotage themselves?

While he's pretty savvy and in control of his business and casual relationships, he's a fucking dunce at romantic conquests. He wants to love and be loved very much, but that sort of intimacy requires a long, hard look at his own self-doubt, self-control, etc. He's often been the one to break it off in the past, more out of frustration or disappointment with himself than because he didn't like his partner. He can keep a good, casual thing going for a while right up until he gets nervous, cuts and runs, or subconsciously turns himself into such an insufferable asshole that he gets turned out on his ass first.

It's really not like he didn't have good role models, since his parents were loving and demonstrative with each other, but it's been a chronic problem for sure.

Anyway, his current relationship has been going well even through some bumps, and he's both relieved and happy about that while also trying not to gnaw off a metaphorical limb with imagined disaster scenarios. Shut up, stop thinking, you love him, he loves you, you're HAPPY.

What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it and why do they still have it?

Oh, man. Out of all my fashion disaster Lousy Coffee OC's, Abe is an underwhelming culprit. He's a low-key dude and sticks to denim, t-shirts, and tank tops, sometimes leather. He prefers sleeveless to let his tattoos do the talking.

Sometimes he leans a little hard into the Rockabilly vibe with some bowling shirts, which don't look bad on him, but one year Jen got him this as a Christmas present, and every time he wears it nobody can take him seriously.

(It's because his unglamoured form is largely black and orange and it's a bit too on the nose) How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

Subjective, since he's a fire monster. He's probably alright, but will drink a glass of water if you give it to him. What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was thier last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Definitely sweat and body odor in the morning when he first wakes up and after his run, but he showers afterwards. Motor oil, carbolic soap, more sweat, sometimes a kind of bonfire crispiness if he's been in a mood, mild dog stank, and have you ever smelled a warm horse like outside of its manure stall and just standing in the sun being clean and nice? Not to be too purple prose but that.

[inst4nt-n00dles]

08.22.2017 - Scared of Boys

The other day someone from the frisbee pickup found me in the 24 hour bookstore. Now there’s a significance in this encounter because this guy had been trying to get me to meet up with him for the past 2 weeks. He’s been an American resident in Taiwan for a couple years teaching English and tutoring little kids and he’s nowhere close to Asian. We got along well at pickup and were on the same team. He was pretty good, but I was a little more focused on the fact that it was extremely hot and I was wrinkling dry in the heat.

When he chatted me on Facebook, I reacted the same way I did with any guy that tried to hit me up at school: With shyness and hesitancy. In addition: I was completely turned off and shut down. Now this isn’t one of those “I’m too good for anyone” attitudes, but rather an “oh my god get me out of this situation I can’t talk to boys breathe breathe remember to fking breathe I want to die leave me alone I feel like crying” kind of reaction. He was giving off the vibes I craved just like any one of the other guys I've met in the past year, but I just felt awkward and I wanted to remove myself from existence out of fear and minor irrational disgust. I don’t know why I was disgusted; he was a perfectly decent dude who was just trying his nice guy moves on me. But I just didn’t want it and it made me squirm.

And these feelings of anxiety carried on through the week until it built up to the day pickup was held again. For seven days, every time I opened messenger, his unread message would sit there making me guilty, but not enough to open and respond to it. That morning, I woke up knowing that I didn’t want to go. Primarily because of my rocky relationship with frisbee, but also out of complete fear of seeing this perfectly nice guy and possibly having to awkwardly explain why I didn't respond to him. I didn’t want to see him. So I didn’t go and spent the morning crying to my dad about my frisbee situation instead, avoiding the topic of that guy.

Later, my dad treats me to a relaxing day and ends it by taking me to this fantastic book store open 24/7. And so there I am, in a quiet paradise trying really hard to decide which Wonder Woman comic I should start with when the guy approaches me.

“Hey, funny that I see you here.”

Muscles tense. Hands begin to shake. An embarrassed blush comes quickly following the reminder in my head that I didn’t go to pickup. And I don’t make eye contact.

He hovers around me after that encounter, coming back after a couple minutes trying to make conversation with me about graphic novels and why I didn’t go to pickup. I pull the lame excuse that I just overslept. If I wanted to vaporize when he first approached me, I wanted to combust the moment I realized he was hovering. In fact, he chose to stand across the aisle pretending to look at the books on those shelves; a safe distance but giving me the impression that he wants to be there when I decided what book I wanted.

He actually caught me returning to my respective comic bookshelf after I tried to leave wanting to escape but guilt tripping myself to go back because I really wanted a Wonder Woman book. Awkward. Finally I select my book, relieved and annoyed at myself for taking so long and staying in that awkward situation because I couldn’t freaking choose which one I wanted quick enough. Then I bolted when he wasn’t looking. Ran the other way, and circumvented around him in desperate search of my dad. And as soon as I do, I push him to the checkout counter, nervously peeking over my shoulder in fear this guy would find me. We leave safely, not that there was any danger in the situation at all. It was just me being a freak.

I had half a mind to message him later and apologize for leaving so abruptly, planning to use the excuse that my dad had some place to be. But I didn’t. Thus, continuing my trend of ghosting guys. The walk home was silent. My anxiety was on full blast and I just wanted to die, because this isn’t something I would tell to my father. This is something I don’t think I would ever tell anyone except for that one friend of mine. And so I did.

I was frustrated when I messaged my friend, rhetorically asking him why the crap was I so frightened to talk to guys. Why every guy I met who I could have started a thing with ended up being ghosted and ignored by me. I keep telling myself I’m just not interested, but they weren’t all that bad. For some, if circumstances were different, things could have flourished. I also tried to convince myself that maybe I was still attached to him and was mentally still saving myself for him (which probably was so in the beginning of the school year) but now I’m not so sure. Heck, I’m not even sure if I can face him now either. And we made plans for Saturday. What plans, I can’t entirely be sure because I’m half convinced he’ll chicken out again. And if not him, what if I do?

So I’m ranting to my friend, and halfway through, I realized that I’m just frightened. Because the feelings that come to me when approached by these guys are feelings of heartbreak and pain. I’ve associated the intense searing pain of heartbreak to every guy out there who shows remote interest in me. It drowns me at once, and I freak out. I think about the inescapable pain I’ve felt through this past year, the nights I spent crying, the desperation calls, fear, and irrationality that drove me mad, and especially the drunk calls. I think about how difficult I am to deal with, how needy, how annoying, how unattractive I am as a person and then the rejection responses follow immediately.

“Do you still love me?" "No.” “You became an emotional wreck.” “Do you want to meet up?” “I don’t think that’s a good idea." "We haven't been together in months." I'm not looking to get together.”

I meet and talk to eager guys and suddenly that’s the future of our relationship that never started. And I just want to flee the scene at that point. No more of that pain, no more no more no more I want it to all end. And there are goods in this I guess, I’m being less reckless and more careful, but the bads are that I’m using bad defense mechanisms. I’m convincing myself I’m okay, subconsciously aware of these rushing feelings of anguish and total fear and denying them. They’re not there, I’m completely fine, what are you talking about? Oh, excuse me as I run away screaming "I DON'T KNOW WHY”. BUT I do know why. Why can’t I accept it? Probably because I don’t know how to fix it.

But that’s not the worst consequence coming out of that relationship with him. I was at my greatest with him. He let me be open, let me be weird, let me say what I wanted and made me feel okay about it. Even when I met him, I was pretty forward with him, made first moves, and was outrageously unapologetically me. But as the person I thought loved me entirely at my highest and my lowest, he broke my heart and subsequently broke me too. Because there is no worse feeling than having the person you loved the most who thought loved you the same tell you they thought you were a wreck. That when you were at your highest, they’d knock you down, causing you to question everything about yourself, everything you loved about yourself. You really lose yourself, your identity, your foundation that way.

I will say, breaking up was the better option at the time given his loss of feelings and my mania, but the relationship couldn't have ended at a worse time; maybe when I wasn’t struggling with academics and finding an identity and conforming to the new environment. He left me completely faceless in this unknown place. I don’t want to blame him; I was the one who broke up with him. But he had already mentally broken up with me. And his side of the breakup was easier than mine. Whereas I was in a new place and not adjusting well, no family, no established friends, dealing with gross dudes and horrible test grades and just the horrors of first year college (they are legitimate and I will fight anyone who says anything against how hard it can be), he was in the safety of his home, his friends, the same school, and everything that couldn’t rock his foundation.

Now I’m stuck with the mental consequences. I’m shy, too quiet. I can’t speak for myself anymore, I let people step all over me. I’m hesitant, I’m insecure. I can’t even order an omelette at the omelette station. I can’t talk to guys, I can’t make eye contact. I stay in my room all day and I have a lethal eating habit of starving myself for consecutive days and feast on one day. I run myself to the ground with work and school, I cry when I feel like there’s not enough time, and I will on and off call my friend and tell him that I’m over this guy and that I’m not and lying to myself. I’m aware of all of this, but I can’t seem to get a grasp of my own body and actions and I keep falling deeper and deeper.

In contrast, he’s fine. He’s better than ever. Captain. An amazing player. So much more social, kind to most, talking to so many people, working, playing with kitties. I’m dying here, knowing all of this. Knowing that he’s becoming only more and more attractive to me, becoming more and more what I hoped he’d become. The only catch is that I wanted to be present with him through all this and obviously I was not. And I feel…unsatisfied with it. Maybe I wasn’t meant to see him in his prime despite how bad I wanted to. Maybe I was holding him back. Maybe my leaving was the reason why he changed. Life is holding him just out of my reach and is going to force me to watch him meet some other lucky girl who gets to see this new and improved him. It’s like one of those concepts on TV where the guy cheats on the girl and goes on to marry that girl instead because he changed and the other girl got the better part of the deal.

And now I’m just rambling at this point. I was supposed to stop at the part where I analyze my fear for guys but I continued and my thought process brought me here, to the world of what ifs filled with pity and bring-me-downers. So I guess I’ll end with this:

I’m scared to see him. For once I’m chicken. I don’t know what to expect from me or him and my anxiety is going to eat me counting down to when/if we do meet, and starting my second year of college. What will be different? What will be the same?

My god, I’m unbelievably petrified.