Ok. So Seth has OCD. I never really did research on ocd, and I just did and found out yeah maybe I have it too cuz Seth’s situation is based on mine so... anyways, here goes:
Obsession: he feels this nauseous feeling/disgust/discomfort when someone he isn’t familiar with/hates/isn’t comfortable with touch his stuff, especially stuff he thinks are precious to him — his books, his water bottle, his notebooks/journal, his homework……
Compulsion: when he was around 7-10, he would just scream into his pillow in his room without knowing what else to do; after Russel (his dad) died, he felt even more uncomfortable around Ember (his mum), and he started banging his head on his bed until he fell asleep and using nails to hurt himself; it was when he was 17+ that he began to rub his stuff with a rag over and over again or use sanitisers.
I still haven’t figured out what made him snap/kill sooo… we’ll see.
i love when a character with a severe anxiety disorder fucks up over and over and blows up their whole life about it. we have a fair amount of characters with mild anxiety (not that theres anything wrong with that) we need more characters who just cannot function or stop themselves from ruining everything good in their life out of fear
Liam has a sister btw. Her name’s Nico. Well, technically full name’s Nicole Lefrere, but she just prefers going by as Nico. She’s also lesbian (like, open and out). Profile below:
Name: Nicole Lefrere (Nico) (She takes her mum Léa Lefrere’s last name)
Gender: female (she/her)
Sexuality: Lesbian
Age: the story starts when she and Liam are both little so it doesn’t really matter
Nationality: French-British
Looks: neck length straight hair, brown eyes, tanned skin… (can’t really think of anything other trait atm)
Personality: strong, will tell bullies to fuck off no matter the consequences, doesn’t believe and in glasses and will literally drag anyone away from their phone, has never experienced any “doubting myself cuz I’m lgbtq” sort of feelings but is understanding to people who have and will stand up for them if needed…
me as a teenager: man it sucks to have no privacy or autonomy but i guess its for a good reason. when i turn 18 i will realise how young i was and understand why they did all that.
me as an adult: teenagers are an oppressed class, their abuse is normalised and systemic and they need to start killing people
Trope Variety Hour: July 2026 || Day 7: Do You Want Me to Lie and Say I Love You?
This is one of the backstories of my OC Liam Trover.
(Warning for bullying, homophobia, and misgendering)
“Pop quiz in ten minutes, folks.”
Teacher Miller strolled in the classroom and dropped their bag on a chair. There were a few mutters of complaints throughout the eleven-year-olds, but most of them had gotten used to the sudden morning quizzes since they got a new Science teacher a month ago.
The Water Cycle.
Liam bored his eyes into the title of his textbook. It was boring, so boring. He was eleven already. Shouldn’t they be learning something like…Chemistry? On the other hand, Liam needn’t worry about the quiz coming in minutes. He shook off the complaining voices in his head and closed the book.
He could hear coffee draining from a dripper into the mug. It was Teacher Miller. Every Tuesday - or every day, as Liam presumed - they would make a mug of coffee, taking precisely 8 minutes, before starting their lesson or like today, a pop quiz.
18 g of ground coffee, 300 ml of boiled water, and 3 minutes.
Somewhere along the few weeks Liam had memorised the way Teacher Miller made coffee. He told himself that the interest was just born out of boredom and his keen observation.
“Ow!” hissed Liam, his hand shooting up and clasping on the back of his neck.
Someone’s spit ball had been aimed at him and it was now sliding into his shirt. He grabbed the back of his shirt and flapped it as subtly as possible, hoping desperately that the disgusting thing would drop out.
“Ay, is Miller that good to look at?”
“Shut up,” Liam muttered. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was Byrus.
Liam has always wondered how extroverts had the energy to make friends all the time. It seems, if he let Byrus around him long enough, he would find out. They had only known each other less than a month, and he was already tagging himself beside Liam everywhere he went.
“You’re staring at her,” Byrus insisted, poking Liam’s shoulder with a pen.
Luckily, Teacher Miller chose to start passing down quiz papers at that moment and rescued Liam.
He knew it wasn’t over though. Byrus would never give up on confronting him.
Sure enough, at recess, Byrus blocked the doorway before Liam could leave without him.
“So, what the hell is it about Miller?”
Liam quickened his pace and ignored him, but Byrus just started half jogging.
“C’mon, man. You keep staring at her like she’s making you coffee. Can’t you just share something with your buddy?”
“I’m not your buddy.” Liam turned so abruptly that Byrus’ nose almost bumped against his, “and you know it’s nothing.”
“You help her clean the whiteboard and put the pens or whatever stuff on the table before she comes. That’s nothing?”
“Yes,” Liam deadpanned, and asked the next question in an ugly face, as if he had been suppressing his desire to blurt it out for a long time. “How do you know Teacher Miller is a girl anyway?”
Byrus cocked his head. “I dunno. She looks like a girl pretending to be a boy. What, you like boys? Do you think she’s a boy?”
Liam whipped around and began walking again. His lips twitched, and an irritated frown was barely suppressed.
“Do you have a crush on him then?” Byrus, sensing that he couldn’t catch up to him again, threw out a holler. The very few students in the halls all turned to look at who he was yelling at.
Liam gritted his teeth and forced himself to slow down his footsteps, preventing them from breaking into a run. His face was flushed with an angry red. 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32…… he muttered faster and faster. Calm down, Trover, for God’s sake. There was no reason to be angry at Byrus, Liam told himself. He was only trying to be a friend. He didn’t do it - whatever it was - on purpose.
To be fair, Liam wasn’t sure whether Teacher Miller was a girl or a boy either. It was one of the most frequent questions his classmates would pester the teacher with, but Teacher Miller would just shake their head mysteriously and say “guess”.
By the time he had reached the English classroom, Liam’s mood had lifted, for the moment.
<—>
Liam had decided to wake up early the next Tuesday morning. He pushed open the door of the empty Science classroom. It was always unlocked for some reason. Some students had asked Teacher Miller why before, but they just shrugged and joked that the skeleton in the corner would act as a guard and protect the room. Liam couldn’t have snorted harder at that.
He wiped the whiteboard clean and dropped the red, green, and black markers on Teacher Miller’s desk. His gaze inevitably landed on the coffee dripper on the side tables.
Should he?
Liam took a hesitant step forward.
Oh, screw it.
He fetched some hot water, and after eight minutes, a coffee mug was also carefully placed on Teacher Miller’s desk.
Liam slid back into his seat, his heart thumping louder than usual.
8:47
Most of his classmates were already seated, waiting for the teacher. Liam crossed his fingers under the table, then cursed himself for being so anxious. It was no big deal. He’d prepared all the other stuff for Teacher Miller before, this time was no difference.
The door swung open and said teacher walked in with a casual smile. “Hey gang,” they dropped their bag, then…
“Well, someone’s eager for the quiz to start. I’ll pass down the papers!”
A groan, much louder than last time, spread through the room. Liam could feel withering gazes sent in his direction. The tip of his ears flared into a deep crimson. He just prayed that his hair could cover it up. Judging by another nudge from his back, he knew it didn’t.
“Great job, lover boy,” Byrus mumbled.
Liam turned, ready to snap, but the quiz papers were stuffed into his hand, so he passed them on and shot Byrus a glare instead.
Halfway through the test, a paper airplane Liam’s thigh. He bit back any sound of pain and unfolded it quietly.
Wanna make me some coffee too? LOVER BOY
A bunch of hearts were drawn at the end of the message, and scribbled signatures were jotted down all over it - the signatures of almost everyone in the classroom, as Liam counted.
He folded it into a neat, small square and slid it in the drawer. 1, 2, 4, 8, 16…… No, the method was failing him today, and he was stuck in the classroom. Liam raised his hand.
“Can I go to the bathroom, Teacher Miller?” he muttered. His body jolted as he felt Byrus kick his chair.
“Sure. Any one of you finished the quiz yet? Pick someone to go with you for safety.”
“I’ll go,” Liam’s heart sank as Byrus stood.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Byrus demanded as soon as they were out in the hallway.
Liam flinched. Fuck. That was a word his mum would only say when she was really, really out of control, when she was really mad. “What the fuck do you mean?” he retorted, mimicking the tough tone.
“You made coffee? What are you, a puppy? Are you gay, Liam? Why do you like girls pretending to be boys?”
They both stopped in their tracks in front of the men’s bathroom.
“I don’t, like, Teacher Miller,” Liam gritted out. “Do you want me to lie and say I do? It’s called being thoughtful, in case you somehow never heard of it.”
“Who the hell makes coffee for your teacher? That’s just…that’s not normal,” Byrus shook his head. “Anyways, I’m going. You’re not my friend anymore. I don’t wanna be friends with a weirdo.”
Byrus walked off.
Friends. Was that what they were? Liam stared at the way Byrus left. He’s not your friend, his mind kept telling him, but Liam still couldn’t shake off the feeling he had lost something again.
That was it. Hope you enjoyed it! Liam’s life is a bit…I think tragic could be the word. I really want to write more about him in the future. Please tell me what you think in the comments. It’s my first original story posted <3
The Trope Variety Hour: July 2026 || Day 9: I Had to Hear the Truth From a Stranger (more of a vibe on this one, really)
A/N: Ooookay. So…short story about my OCs Seth Chase and Arthur Roxley. They’re not exactly role models. Hence, warning: mentions of murder and sexual assault!!
“Don’t touch that!”
Arthur flinched and pulled his hand away from Seth’s office desk. “Sorry,” he muttered.
Before he could say anything else, Seth shoved him aside and started to harshly wipe the place he had touched with a rag. After a few seconds, it seemed like that wasn’t enough. Seth flung the rag into Arthur’s hands and began to rub the same place with his palms, over and over again.
“What’s wrong? Dr. Chase?” Arthur tried to gauge what his psychology professor was doing. He hadn’t seen Seth this way ever before — he was tense with trembling muscles, had abandoned his normally rigid posture and was bent over, solely fixated on the spot Arthur had ruined for some reason.
Seth didn’t answer him. It was after another full minute that he straightened himself, looked at the far side of the wall with a strange numbness in his eyes, then half stumbled into the bathroom in the corner. Arthur didn’t have the courage (nor enough curiosity) to follow him, but could hear water running through the door. Probably washing his hands, Arthur thought. He stood at exactly where he was, determined not to touch anything else before Seth emerged, still clutching the rag.
“Professor?”
Seth slumped in his office chair, refusing to maintain eye contact with his student. He pointed at one of the seats opposite to his desk. “Sit.”
Arthur obliged. “Forgive me, but what exactly did I do?” He gestured to the office desk vaguely. “Earlier?”
“Don’t, touch my things,” Seth squeezed the words through his teeth.
“Germiphobia?” Arthur guessed.
“No, and it’s called Mysophobia,” Seth retorted. “There is no medical term for it, at least from what I’ve researched for three decades.”
“So, care to explain what it is?” Arthur leaned back and rested his hands on his lap.
His question was met with silence.
“I could guess and you could keep glaring at me, or you could just spill the beans.”
“It’s not…that easy,” Seth bit out. “I can’t explain it well.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Not even as a psychology professor?”
Seth scoffed. “As if I haven’t tried a self diagnosis.”
“Is that allowed?”
A moment passed, and Arthur gave up trying to throw questions into a silent void. “You know what? You don’t have to explain anything. Just tell me why I’m called here so I can leave.”
Seth didn’t say a word and pushed a newspaper clip in front of Arthur. He looked down to read the headline and froze.
16 YEAR OLD STUDENT RAPED AND KILLED. POLICE INVESTIGATING.
“Liam Trover.” Seth nodded at the clip. “What did he do to provoke you?”
“…How did you know?” Arthur searched Seth’s eyes. “Was I that easy to see through?”
“See through? No.”
Arthur studied his professor closely, then relaxed his jaw just a little. “He threatened to rape me. Got what he asked for, he did. Are you going to turn me in? For…murder?”
There was a small tilt tugging on Seth’s lips that almost resembled a smile. “No. Although, I didn’t expect you to come clean so easily.”
Arthur ignored the last statement. “Why am I here then? If you’re not planning on turning me in? Let me guess, blackmail? What do you want?”
“Smart kid.”
“I haven’t been a kid for a long time. Spill the beans.”
Seth leaned forward. “Kill Professor Charlton.”
“Professor Richard Charlton? Are you—” Arthur almost blurted out the word “insane” before he changed his mind. Deep inside, he knew that both of them were not subjected to social norms. It was no use taunting each other.
“Yes, your English teacher,” said Seth matter-of-factly. He didn’t seem as much as concerned.
“Why?” Arthur folded his arms around his chest.
“I’m blackmailing you, remember?”
“No, I mean why do you want to kill him?”
“He, let’s say, stole something from me.”
“You sure he didn’t just touch your stuff?” Arthur couldn’t help but blurt out.
Seth pursed his lips. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Ok. Ok. You don’t like people touching your things for some reason. Got it. No need to explain.” Arthur managed to temporarily halt the curiosity surging in his mind.
“Precisely,” Seth said stiffly. “Now go.”
“Do I have a choice?” Arthur stood. “About Charlton?”
“Do you need to ask?”
A/N: What do you think? I have to admit it didn’t go the way I wanted it to (not exactly). Seth was supposed to confess the reason why he behaved that way, and Arthur would be the first person to sort of understand what it’s like and not judge him like a freak. However, cuz of 1) Seth just had a breakdown, in front of someone no less (for the first time), 2) this problem has made him kill and 3) he can’t really make sense of it either, let alone explain it. So…yeah, Seth couldn’t explain it to Arthur.
Great, the only Asian girl in my OCs is an annoying spoiled person, but to be fair, Seth Chase isn’t exactly a perfect representation of aroace either (hint: he’s far from it).
Arthur sleepwalked a LOT as a kid, but his parents were never around to know that to tell him about it. Once, he crashed into TV and sort of broke it, which made him very upset afterwards cuz he couldn’t watch MacGyver the whole week before Daphne called someone to fix it. He ended up doodling some creepy stuff on his notebook, leading him to realise oh wow ok so I’m a little bit not normal. The sleepwalking just vanished when he got into his teenage years for some reason. He will also try to stay awake for the whole fucking night for some complex logic problem or a project or any random thing that ticks his brain.
Seth is a light sleeper, and he has this weird thing where he wakes up real early (like 5:30) and will stare into the ceiling for at least 20 minutes with a blank mind before actually getting up. It’s like a meditation or something like that (he tries to look into it). He can’t explain it either. Also he’s left handed. Not related to sleep and idk why I know that.
Liam snores. There. I will not elaborate.
Victoria’s room is a mess and she sleeps in it, until the housekeeper or someone cleans her room. She has her computer hauled sooo close to her bed so she can go on it whenever she wants (hint: after bed time). She has a lot of plushies and just keeps on buying more. She convinced her parents that she’s not afraid of the dark anymore, but actually still is.
Miller absolutely cannot be alone in the dark at night. They’d just explode with their own thoughts like “oh fuck the kids are asking if I’m a boy or girl again” or “i heard Mia say i think Miss Hagen blah blah blah oh no”…etc. They’d be lying in bed till 1 a.m. and when they finally fall asleep they sleep-talk. They consume coffee like an addict and hate it when they have class in the first period.
