OC Question meme

anonymous asked:

36 Orrick & 44 Stan

From this list of not-so-nice OC Questions. I’m still taking these if you’re curious about my OC’s deep dark secrets!

Orrick [x] [x]

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them?

He’s in control of his emotions. He’s a very down-to-earth person, and is very open with his feelings, but he is also in a good mental place and his emotions hardly ever get the better of him.

Stan Baker [x]

44. What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t?

Stan would love a vacation. As much as he loves his work, it’s a near-constant cycle of near-death experiences. If he could take a few weeks off and go abroad with Nathan, they would have the time of their lives. Backpacking in Peru, hitting up one of the Disney parks, maybe even visit Hobbiton in New Zealand. Some time to relax is hardly ever an option for him, alas.

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Commissioned Art

“You’re a dunce.”  “Yeah, but I’m your dunce.”

Another adorable commission from @ghostquack of my beautiful OCs, Zepheera and Orrick

~Featuring my borrower OCs from my Doctor Who/Borrowers crossover series ‘Borrowed Time (and Space)’~

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100 (GT) Themes Challenge

neonthewrite:

For writers (or artists) in the g/t fandom, the Fab 5 ( @bittykimmy, @neonthewrite, @nightmares06, @creatorofuniverses, and @borrowedtimeandspace) have put together a list of one word prompts – all of them chosen by GT people for GT people.

The objective? Send in an ask to any of those blogs (or to whosoever reblogged this post and thus took the challenge) with a number and a character. 

What they do with the prompt is up to them. Have fun!

  1. Giant
  2. Rise
  3. Monster
  4. Peeking
  5. Hands
  6. Borrow
  7. Tinker
  8. Adapt
  9. Flight
  10. Possession
  11. Mouse
  12. Risk
  13. Shelter
  14. Darkness
  15. Argument
  16. Trust
  17. Protect
  18. Close
  19. Cooking
  20. Open
  21. Trepidation
  22. Startle
  23. Dash
  24. Warmth
  25. Flowerpot
  26. Invisible
  27. Escape
  28. Heartbeat
  29. Dew
  30. Freedom
  31. Wings
  32. Laughter
  33. Edge
  34. Slam
  35. Web
  36. Razor
  37. Threaten
  38. Snatch
  39. Solution
  40. Footsteps
  41. Secret
  42. Dollhouse
  43. Corner
  44. Vent
  45. Company
  46. Tremors
  47. Top
  48. Reveal
  49. Creaking
  50. Freefall
  51. Landing
  52. Vertigo
  53. Stuck
  54. Cling
  55. Separate
  56. Needle
  57. Fear
  58. Diversion
  59. Platform
  60. Sneak
  61. Cold
  62. Soft
  63. Exploration
  64. Ignorance
  65. Cage
  66. Curiosity
  67. Narrow
  68. Rescue
  69. Bottom
  70. Grow
  71. Stomp
  72. Cooperate
  73. Problem
  74. Raindrops
  75. Solitude
  76. Precarious
  77. Leap
  78. Stash
  79. Trap
  80. Flash
  81. Miscommunication
  82. Lantern
  83. Tiptoe
  84. Rumble
  85. Conspiracy
  86. Cat
  87. Attention
  88. Ceiling
  89. Experiment
  90. Touch
  91. Bookshelf
  92. Search
  93. Please
  94. Cradle
  95. Hide
  96. Hang
  97. Desperation
  98. Power
  99. Betrayal
  100. Tiny

I helped make a thing! ^^

I promise I am still working on the prompts I asked for before, thank you so much for being patient with me while I struggle with studenthood.

If you like, send me one of these! I will add them to the list and do my best to get some done over Thanksgiving break!

Prompt: Rainbow

((I’m back! Fell into a bit of a writer’s block earlier in the week, but I’m slowly getting back on track! Anyway, here’s another prompt from this list of one-word prompts. Feel free to send in one!))


Zepheera crept furtively up to the drawing room where she was sure to find her husband. They both kept supplies for their personal crafts in there – pinched fabric and old socks and small pins for Zepheera’s sewing and knitting, and paper scraps and pencil tips for Orrick’s drawing – but Orrick used it most often. There was a sizable crack in the floorboard that made up the ceiling in the small room, giving him ideal lighting (second only to sketching outside, which was risky for a five-inch-tall man).

He sat with his back to the door, granting Zepheera the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him and plant a quick kiss on his fair cheek.

“Happy anniversary,” she chirped, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind.

Orrick started, then sighed and took one of Zepheera’s hands in his left one (his right was used for drawing and therefore covered in graphite). “Ah yes, how festive. Celebrating five years of marriage with a heart attack. Love you too, Zeph.”

Sarcasm aside, he smiled and pecked the back of Zepheera’s hand. She chuckled and pulled away, pulling up an empty spool to sit alongside him.

“And I was still thoughtful enough to make you this.” She presented a coil of rope she’d made to replace the one that had snapped on him a month and a half prior. This one she’d twisted herself using three lengths of dark-colored sewing thread to allow for more stability and durability. “Couldn’t manage to swipe your hook, but now that it’s officially yours we can attach it later.”

Orrick’s mouth hung open as he hastily cleaned his hands on a damp cloth. He took the rope in a firm grip, testing its strength and observing the feel of it.

“So this is what you’ve been sneakin’ around to do,” he smirked.

She nudged him playfully. “Unlike some, I’ve been borrowing since I was ten. I’ve long since mastered the art of the sneak.”

He pulled Zepheera in close, her slim frame fitting right into the crook of his arm. “I love it. Thanks.”

Zepheera smiled and leaned into his chest.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve drawn for me this time.”

Regardless of how long she’d known him, Orrick’s skill still managed to impress Zepheera. Not only was his talent for pencil sketches unmatched by anyone she’d had ever met, but he was able to remember moments and images with uncanny accuracy and then transfer them into a drawing without flaw.

He never got tired of drawing Zepheera. There didn’t even need to be an occasion, but Zepheera was sure to receive a drawing from her husband for her birthday or an anniversary. Usually of herself and always unprompted.

She recognized this year’s portrait as a scene from their trip to the garden two weeks before. It had been raining for four days straight, keeping the humans in the house at all times, which in turn all but trapped the borrowers in their own home under the floor. Orrick and Zepheera knew it was irrational to be afraid of a flood washing away their livelihood since the house was on elevated ground, but after days of being cooped up they started to worry. Finally a bright, sunny day came along and the humans went into town too resupply and socialize. This left Zepheera and Orrick ample time to meander about the less waterlogged parts of the garden.

In the picture, Zepheera was leaning back on her hands, basking in the sunlight with her eyes closed. She remembered the exact moment: the way the warm breeze had blown through her long, dark hair and blessedly filled her lungs with the fresh air they had been deprived of all week. She just hadn’t realized Orrick had been watching.

She gaped at the level of detail in the sketch, from the tiny four-petal flower Orrick had picked and tucked behind Zepheera’s ear, to the clouds in the sky and…

“What’s that?” She pointed to a gray streak that stretched across the sky, darker and more linear than the fluffy clouds.

“It’s a rainbow,” he explained.

Zepheera frowned at it for a moment. “C’mon, I pointed it out to you. Don’t you remember?”

Recognition lit up Zepheera’s deep violet eyes. “Oh yeah, I remember. But that was later on, I was half-asleep.”

“It was still there, even if I didn’t notice it at the moment. I was just…admiring a more beautiful view.”

Orrick shook his head at the cheesiness of his own line.

Zepheera smiled anyway, moving the drawing from his lap to her own. The rainbow didn’t really matter too much. At the end of the day, it was a background detail in a portrait that was focused entirely on Zepheera.

“Thanks, love. It’s wonderful.”

Orrick gave her shoulders a squeeze and kissed her hair, which had been pulled back into a messy, careless bun.

With a smirk, she added, “I do appreciate how you tried to distinguish the colors from each other.

“Well!” Orrick scoffed, a mirthful smile playing across his lips. “If you want a life-like rainbow, then you’re going to have to borrow your poor deprived husband some colored pencil tips.”

“In this house? With possibly the least artistic humans in existence?” Zepheera giggled.

“Exactly.”

Now it was Zepheera’s turn to shake her head.

“You’re a dunce,” she sighed.

“Yeah, but I’m your dunce.”

Zepheera smirked and lifted her chin to meet his bright blue gaze. “And don’t you forget it.”

She leaned up as he leaned down to press his lips against hers. In that moment, they couldn’t be more content.

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Prompt: Evanesce

Hope you were expecting angst! (though honestly, how could you not with a word like ‘evanesce’ xD)

This is actually a bit of a sneak peek into a future plot point for my main story. It’s not an excerpt, but it’s a little look into an otherwise unseen character whose story will be told soon.

In reference to this list of one-word prompts. Feel free to send me one!


It was the cold that drew Orrick Shelf from sleep. The bed he shared with his wife was always warm when he woke up. If she was awake before him, she waited for him so they could make, or in some cases find breakfast together.

So he was confused when he groggily reached a hand to her side of the bed to find it empty.

He sat up in bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself as his head cleared of the fog of sleep. Rubbing his bright blue eyes, he distantly wondered where his wife could be. A quick look around the room told him it was empty. Just like the bed.

With the blanket still draped over his shoulders, he got up and checked the storeroom just adjacent to the bedroom. Still there was no sign of his wife. None of the food had even been touched.

The kitchen and sitting rooms turned up empty as well. By then Orrick was fully awake and worried.

Then he remembered. His wife would sometimes go borrowing on her own. She’d never done it this early in the morning, but on many occasions Orrick would wake up from a nap to a note on her pillow explaining where she’d gone. Maybe she had done the same here. After all, if she was out in the humans’ territory of the house, she must be dead-set on getting something.

A wave of relief swept over Orrick when he returned to the bedroom and saw a slip of paper on the pillow. He sighed heavily, shaking his head at his own inattention. It was with a smile that he picked up and unfolded the note, a little excited to hear about what was so important as to warrant such an early borrowing.

His smile melted and ice shot through his gut as he read the mere two words scratched onto the scrap of paper.

I’m sorry

He frowned, rereading and turning the note over to ensure she’d left him nothing else. What the hell does that mean?

Orrick’s heart was racing, blood roaring in his ears. She couldn’t… She wouldn’t! He simply could not conceive a plausible reason for the love of his life to vanish into thin air!

He ran from room to room, this time calling her name almost nonstop. He got dressed and spent the entire day checking every safe square inch of the house, and all night he searched the humans’ rooms, hoping beyond hope.

In the end, he returned to the home that now only belonged to him. Exhausted, but he couldn’t bear to sleep. Hungry, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He dropped his gear off near the door and sat wearily in the nearest chair.

Running his hands through his sharp red hair, he willed himself to pull it together. He couldn’t afford to wallow in misery over his wife’s disappearance. He could almost hear her now, repeating the words she would always say when they went through rough times. It’s okay. We can survive this.

Surviving was a far cry from understanding. It just didn’t make sense. They were happy, always had been. He hadn’t been treating her any differently recently than he had in all the time he knew her – and even if he had without realizing it, she would let him know in no uncertain terms. In hindsight, his wife had seemed a bit distracted the last few days, but nothing she’d said or done even remotely hinted at her intentions to leave.

Orrick let out a long breath and hugged his knees close to his chest. None of that mattered. Looking into the past would do nothing to change the fact that his wife was gone. And she seemed to have done so willingly, leaving no hint as to a reason why or an intention to ever come back.

Zepheera may have disappeared, but his love for her would never evanesce.