you all baffle me

Thinking About Character Motivations

Whether it’s about why a character would commit murder or why someone would want a do-over in life, I get a lot of questions about character motivations. This is a very important question to ask yourself to develop a believable character because for every action and decision that is made there is some sort of motivation. You eat because you’re hungry, you sleep because you’re tired, you plot to take over the country because the current government killed your sister and framed it on you to further their political agenda. Or maybe you eat because nobody can turn down the deliciousness that is mint chocolate ice cream, you sleep because you’ve got a ridiculous migraine from all the ice cream, and you plot to take over the world because you plan to outlaw eating mint chocolate chip ice cream to have it all for yourself. No matter what the motive is the important thing is that the character has one. To help you come up with one for whatever insanity you’re planning (the scenarios I’ve seen from all of you make me equally proud and baffled) I’ve come up with a few points to consider to get your thinking gears moving.

1.     Consider how it relates to the main plot and subplot(s).  

Going back to taking over the country, there are millions of ways this story could unfold. What differentiates each and what makes it interesting is why the character wants to do this. Martin Scorsese once said “The king died and then the queen died is a story. The king died, and then queen died of grief is a plot.” This is the way a character’s motive works: your story tells the reader what happens but the why and how is always more interesting. So ask yourself what kind of impact you want this motive to have on the plot because it is what will drive everything. When a character doesn’t have a motivation (like a villain who is evil because) there is no direction and no intrigue in the events as they unfold.

2.     Is it out of fear or desire?

To put it very simply, character motivation is fueled by either fear or desire (or maybe both). You could eat because you saw someone else eating cake and now you really crave some too, or you could eat because you fear dying of hunger. There are always primal fears and desires like the desire for survival, companionship and happiness and a fear of death and pain. These are great and can often come up but also try to personalize them to your character so the reader feels why it is important to them. Once you having something fueling the motivation it becomes much more real and gives you a better idea of how to use it.

3.     Make it fit with the genre.

Along with personalizing to the character, it’s good to keep in mind the tropes of the genre (remember tropes are not the same as clichés). In a romance the reader expects one of the motivations to be love, in a thriller it’s often about a fight for personal survival and/or to save someone or something. The reason this is important is because it would be odd for a character’s main motivation in a story about saving the country from foreign invasion to be becoming a pianist. Unless, of course the story is really about a young talent who loses their chance to travel to a music school because of war, but now the plot has changed, hasn’t it? There can be multiple motivations, especially when you cross genres like a YA adventure, or thriller with a romance but just remember that readers who give your work a try have certain expectations based on the genre so either try to match or rethink the genre you’re really writing.

4.     External and internal motivations.

External motivations are ones that are imposed on your character by external forces while internal motivations come from within themselves (personal desires). For example, take a police officer tasked with finding a kidnapped victim. They have the external motivation of solving this case because it is their job and failing at it would be failing their assignment and leaving a life in peril. They could also have many other personal motivations driving them like having lost their best friend to trafficking or something completely unrelated, like they are motivated to make their little kid proud. You can also try to make these motivations specific to differentiate from characters, at least in your own mind so you can weave that into the characters. External motivations can push the character into the plot but the internal ones can keep them going when things get tough and make readers truly sympathize with them.

5.     Finally, do your homework.

No matter how many tips you read here or anywhere else, none of it is going to matter if you don’t sit down and work out your character’s motivations to fit them and your plot. If you need motivations for something that you might not be familiar with (eg. why someone would commit a specific crime) or you need more information about the topic…RESEARCH! Remember, remember, remember that there are no cutting corners when it comes to writing so take a seat, let your mind explore the possibilities, and get to work.

Good luck!!

Originally posted by just-usmadd

Sweet Tooth- A Remus Lupin Imagine

A/N: Another two posts in one night! This is a little tribute to the fact that I already have reached over 100 followers on here, which is baffling?? Thank you all so much for supporting me so much in the very short time I have been on here. I’m so very glad that I have done this and I hope to be getting to some requests that I have received recently, as well! I digress. I hope you enjoy this Remus smut in celebration. This is my very first attempt at writing anything of the sort so sorry if it is no good! Enjoy~

Warning: SMUT 

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

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I’ve been seeing a lot of this lately, and it baffles me…

You all are against discrimination against Syrian refugees, and rightfully so. Keep showing how you’re against Trump’s attempts at a Muslim ban.

However, everywhere I go, I see memes making fun of Latinx immigrants- specifically Mexican immigrants- from people who refer to themselves as “liberals” and are against Trump and all forms of bigotry.. yet they’re making Latinxs/Mexicans the butt of a joke. Whether it’s jokes about the wall or the border or non-English speaking Latinxs or Latinx food. And it’s not even just white people making jokes… I’ve been seeing more non-Latinx POC than fucking white people joking like this.

It is not okay to make fun of Latinx immigrants. You’re fucking hypocritical if you actively slam any discrimination against Muslims yet TURN AROUND AND MAKE JOKES ABOUT LATINXS/MEXICANS and the current issues we face.

@ NON LATINX POC, I’m calling you out especially because somehow you think it’s okay to make these memes or tag your friends in them or like them on Instagram or share them on Facebook like you get a free pass to do so because you’re not white and therefore you assume you cannot be prejudiced. It doesn’t even fucking matter if your Latinx best friend fucking laughed at it. You’re just as nasty as Trump’s white, racist supporters.

Making jokes about oppression Latinxs face ain’t cute and will never be. Just shows you all love to make us your entertainment. Unless you’re a Latinx facing the issue directly (deportation, anti-brownness, etc.) - then you do not get a pass to make light of something so painful. Fuck you.





To follow the tradition of “Ed-posts-something-actually-legit-on-april-fools-day”, I want all of my followers to know that I appreciate all of your support and love.

Still blows my mind how many followers and fans I have, I never would’ve imagined I’d get to this level, especially since to this day I still only see myself as… an okay artist at best. Without my followers, my fans, my commissioners, I’d be /nothing/. I have no idea why I always get in this type of mood on April Fool’s Day, but, please, I want you all to know that I am super ultra mega grateful for each and every one of you. 

I’ve been getting a lot of messages lately from creators of all skill and experience levels telling me that I’m their biggest source of inspiration,  as much as that still baffles me. But, I want you all to know that /you/ are my biggest source of inspiration. If I can continue to draw pictures that can at least cause someone to go “hey, this gives me an idea” then my art career is something worth continuing.

So, to prevent sounding too sappy on April Fool’s Day of all days, I just wanna say one more time: thank you all for following and supporting me.

anonymous asked:

you probably get tired of us always asking you about your personal dating life, but I've just got to ask whats been baffling me: so we all know that you're pretty much perfect and that you're a major catch in every aspect (and its terribly obvious), so wot in tarnation do you think is wrong with these guys who have let you slip through their fingers? Do they have bad intentions? Are they intimidated? Was it just wrong place wrong time? I'm so curious!

HAHAHA omg I love this 😂 honestly I just think it hasn’t been the right time yet. Like you can be a great person but that doesn’t mean you’ll be great for someone else necessarily. It’s not just about me it’s how I match with people. So far I haven’t found someone who I’m like yep, this is the match. And remember it’s not just your personality that has to match, it’s your values, your schedules, your priorities, what you want out of life, where you’re at on both of your journeys, your faith….. so many things that can make or break it. So yeah lots of factors, it’s not like nobody appreciates me haha I have definitely felt very appreciated by these guys for at least part of the time we spent together. There are just other things that get in the way :/

cocono57  asked:

So dr doe is mexican? Can we get a picture of her cursing like a mexican?? Please?

“And if you don’t speak Spanish… don’t you dare Google Translate what I said!”

Actually, let me translate it for you: “Golly! The outcome of the election baffles me! Cripes! We’re all in a pickle now!”

katyanoctis  asked:

Which puzzle bby comes home with the weirder work stories? (I love this idea and I feel like you could have FUN with it haha)

Wooo- Well let’s see, I am feverish but awake and grateful you asked, sooo-

“Then- Then the Blue-Eyes’ blast would have knocked you off of the platform? How far was the drop?!”

“Just a few feet,” Atem assured with a hopefully calming smile, reaching over to grab Yuugi’s hand- Even though they were both still wet from washing dinner’s dishes. “They had safety nets down. They won’t need them for the final release, but Kaiba clearly doesn’t mean to kill me if he’s bothering that far in case the beta version glitches somehow.”

Yuugi grimaced at even the mention of ‘kill’- But squeezed his hand all the same before letting go to pass him a dish to dry. “Still, if these ‘action duels’ are meant to take advantage of movement and are solid, it might be good to favor monsters that can carry or move you quickly.”

“I was thinking the same. They’ve put out new supports recently, anyways, so I thought I could focus more on Gaia in my next deck-” Atem explained, earning a thoughtful nod… And an attentive eye when he chuckled and went on. “-and I would like to experiment with the Dark Magicians and see what their supports can manage.”

“-you’re not going to put yourself in the Mystic Box, are you?” Yuugi joked… Only to stall when Atem went still, expression soundly blank… Earning quickly narrowed eyes. “Atem-”

“Of course not! That would be dangerous,” he answered- Too late, and too brightly to soothe the suspicion in Yuugi’s eyes. All Atem could thus do was take another plate from his hands and ask, never smiling too directly at his partner. “We’ve been talking about Kaiba’s test runs all night, aibou- What were you up to today? It still baffles me we were just a couple floors apart for once, and I never saw you.”

“…sorry about that,” Yuugi finally answered, never truly distracted but at least willing to answer as he turned off the sink faucet with a sigh. “I meant to catch you for lunch, but the tavern keep got stuck in a dialogue loop.”

Atem, stalled in his plate drying, blinking at his partner.

Tavern? Dialogue? Yuugi never worked on rpgs, why would-

“And we needed to get that running for the test run tomorrow morning, so I played through the first town again- Then skipped to the end and played the fight with Zorc and-”

“-ZORC?” Atem dropped the plate onto the counter, and turned with a tense face and confused alarm. “What are you talking about?! Ai-”

“What? OH geez-” Yuugi grimaced as his own confusion passed. “Sorry, we were going to surprise you guys… The secret co-creator I’ve been working with for Spherium World is Bakura-kun, and we’ve been adapting some of his old open world storylines from Monster World for a “Story Mode” for the game- Where multiple people can battle someone who takes on the villain role.“

Atem… Just stared, the pieces finally adding up but creating a picture he hadn’t thought to imagine. “Then… The ‘Zorc’ you mean is-”

“Yeah, the ‘boss’ in the game board we tried to play with him when we met. We thought we should change the name, but-” Yuugi snorted as he opened a cabinet to put away their cleaned glasses. “There’s something funny about the drafts glitching and Zorc asking me if I would like to order a beer.”

Atem… Just blinked.

The Joker x Dead Reader

You were gone in an instant and he never thought he would be so lost without you. Too bad the dead can never come back…

Read part 2 here

Another sleepless night. He tosses and turns, adjusting his pillow, but his mind won’t shut down. He just can’t sleep without you. The Joker looks at your side of the bed. You’re not there…and you will never be again.

He sighs and takes a deep breath, hiding his face under the sheets, trying not to think of your smile. It’s useless. He grunts and uncovers himself, his eyes resting on your favorite loveseat by the window.

He can almost see you there, in the pale morning light, polishing your handgun, wearing that cute lacy nightgown he liked so much. It was your favorite firearm; he gave it to you on your birthday, customized with your name and his, and plated it with gold over the shiny red background color.

“Baby doll, I regret given that to you. Stop messing with it. Come back to bed, I wanna sleep in.”

“Why, can’t you sleep if I’m not there?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Jeez, baby, what would you do if I’d die? You’d never sleep again?” you used to ask, teasing him.

“No, I would just get another girlfriend.”


He remembers how you always frowned at his answer.

“I would come back and haunt you! NO GIRLFRIEND, do you hear me?”

“If you come back to haunt me, could you be naked please?”

“You want me to be naked?”

“Yes!” he would burst out laughing, his blue eyes glowing with content.

“OK, I’ll come back naked then,” you giggled, charging for the bed and landing on top of him with all your strength.

“Auch, Pumpkin, lose some weight.”

“You’re so mean J,” you complained, playfully punching his cheek.

“I know I am,” the Joker admitted, fully aware you put up with all his crap and you would fall asleep cuddling for a few more hours.


He gets up at the side of the bed, sniffling, then heads towards the bathroom, turns on the water and gets in the bathtub. He hopes it’s going to comfort him a little bit.


“Taaaaa-daaaaaaa!” your cell phone in his face when he was so busy with the paperwork, planning future heists.

He already knew what it was: you took care of another person (or multiple ones) on his black list. But he still looked at the pictures.

“See Puddin? Killed them all for you.”

“You’re such a good doll.” He wasn’t really paying attention anymore.

“I know,” you chuckled and leaned over for a kiss. All you got was a peck on the lips.

“This is no way to kiss your girl, Mister J.  I’ll tell you what: I’m going to take a bath and you’re going to join me in 5 minutes, ok?”

“I’m busy, Princess.”

“I’ll be extraaaaaa nice,” you whispered in his ear and walked away. Every single time he debated maybe about 10 seconds.

“God dammit!…I’ll be there in 5, doll!”

“ Kaaayyy, Puddin. “

He loved to lean against you in the bathtub so you can wash his hair and massage his shoulders.  You always hummed some silly song you would make up on the spot and he purred, half asleep.

“Look, J, it never fails: you give me goosebumps when you purr.”

“U-hummm, “ he muttered with his eyes closed.

“So crazy how you do that to me all the time,” you wondered, baffled at the mystery. He wanted to laugh but he pretended to be dosing off.

“Here, give me your forehead,” you often asked and he just tilted his head backwards even more so you can plant a trail of soft kisses along his “Damaged” tattoo. He secretly liked it, but never told you.

“J, say you love me,” you would ask, rinsing his hair.

“Hmmmm?” he pretended not to hear, still with his eyes closed.

“Say: I love Y/N.”


You tried another approach to get what you wanted.

“ I love you, Puddin.  More than anything.”

“More than diamonds?” he would snicker, adjusting his head on your breasts.

“I said more than anything, you jerk!” This used to get you all worked up, but he’d let you win in the end, especially after you squeezed your legs around him as hard as you could.

You moved his jaw, trying to make him talk.

“Say: I LOVE…Y/N! Say it or I’ll crush you with my thunder thighs! Say you love me!”

“I love….” your green eyes would widen, waiting for the answer “…guns.” he grinned.

“Seriously?!” you pouted, splashing water all over.” “That’s it, I’m going to kill you!”

The bathroom looked like a battlefield after you were done chasing him all over the huge bathtub: water on the floor and bubbles almost reaching the living room.

“Truce! Truce!” you panted out of breath, retreating to one corner of the tub.

“You started, Kitten! Are you sure?” he would smirk, licking his lips, slowly approaching you.

“Yes, I give up, you win.”

“Good decision, doll.” The Joker pulled you on his legs, moving the wet hair off your face so he can see your red cheeks. You locked your arms around his neck and stared in his eyes.

“Say you love me, Puddin.” You never gave up.

“If you don’t say it, I’m not goin…”

He liked to interrupt your little speech:

Before you could make another sound his lips were crushing against yours and it always ended up being a wild night.


He feels the water got cold. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in there, just staring at the faucet. There’s no more laughter, no more kisses, no more you.

Just him, alone with his demons and his sorrow.

He finally brings himself to get out of the tub and gets dressed. He opens the walk in closet and chooses something, he doesn’t even care what; then he sees your clothes. He tried to get rid of your things, but the pain of not having your stuff around was greater than giving them away, so he saved it all.

The Joker looks through your items, stopping from time to time to smell them. They still have your scent. Suddenly, his heart sinks even more: here are your maternity clothes that you kept for next time you might have been lucky enough to get pregnant .


You were so depressed when you lost the pregnancy. J didn’t really care about having a baby, but seeing you cry for days and being so upset, he started to be upset too. He even took a few weeks off and laid low at the penthouse with you. You were sobbing all night and he used to stay awake and talk to you, caress your hair and plan how to get rid of the Bats. It made you feel better and he knew it.

“Please stop crying, baby doll,” he used to beg and he is not the type that begged.” You are going to get sick and who’s going to help me with everything I have to do, hmmm?… Are you going to eat something in the morning?”

You just looked at him with teary, bloodshot eyes.

“Our baby is gone, J. Gone… There’s nothing here,” you said, taking his hand and place it on your tummy, crying harder when he kissed it.

“It’s ok, Princess, we’ll try for another one,” he finally told you one time, hoping it will calm you down.

“For reals?” you finally smiled after he thought you’ll never smile again.

“Yes, for reals.”

“You promise?” You immediately looked so full of hope.

“I promise. Now stop crying, you’re so ugly when you cry,” he joked, waiting for you to elbow him in protest.


But your dream never came true.

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. J already knows who it is.

“Come in, Frosty.”

He heads towards the living room so he can talk to his right hand.

“Hi, Boss. I know you’re… busy, but…about tonight…”

“Do whatever you need to do, Frosty, you’re in charge,” he mutters, cutting him off, visibly distressed, grabbing your cell phone he keeps on the table.

“OK, boss, I’ll take care of everything.” Frost knows to tread lightly so he won’t aggravate the Joker even more. He opens the door to leave, but he makes up his mind and turns around.



“Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” and by the tone of J’s voice, Frost knows to leave the matter alone. He’s just worried about his boss. He doesn’t eat, by the looks of it he doesn’t sleep, he’s on the edge and nothing good could come out of it. But maybe it won’t last forever…In the meantime, he will just do his job and make sure everybody else is doing theirs.

After Frost leaves, J goes out on the balcony. This was your favorite spot in the penthouse because you loved the view from the 30th floor.

He turns on his cell phone, pressing on the first contact on his list: “Princess.”

He watches your own phone turning on in his other hand, sadly smiling at your wallpaper: a picture of him sleeping, his green hair all over his face. He winces when he hears your voice:

“Helllloooo, this is Y/N. If you’re not my Puddin, I don’t care so don’t bother leaving a message. If you are my Puddin, you can leave a message after the beep. I’ll probably see you in a few minutes. (you giggle) I love you, muaaahhhhhh.”

He replays the message again. He misses your voice so much.

“…..muahhhhhhh.” Again…and again…


If he knew he’d lose you that day, he would have left you behind. But you always wanted to participate in everything. You were a good business partner and a good shooter, you always had his back. And never took no for an answer. Just as stubborn as he was.

You were sitting on his lap, tracing the visible tattoos on his chest from under his jacket, pretending to be bored at the meeting, but actually very alert and ready to act if needed. You loved to play the indifferent, clueless girlfriend with the new business partners; it gave you time to study them and observe if something was wrong.

That’s why you were the first to notice the gun pointed at J from behind the wall, already firing bullets in a split second. No time to do anything else but stand up and position yourself in front of him. Everything happened so fast.

J didn’t even realize you were hit until he saw blood soaking through your white shirt. Then another bang, and another one. You stood still, gasping for air, trying not to collapse, shielding him.

All hell broke loose: gunshots shrieking from one side to the other, a few more hit you in the crossfire before you fell, wheezing, squinting your eyes in pain.

The Joker caught you before you hit the floor, not even giving a damn about the carnage or the fact that he could get hit too.

Within seconds, Frost and your henchmen placed themselves in front of both of you, shutting at large, already knowing they messed up big time.

J was on his knees, shocked, not knowing what to do, holding you with one hand and pressing your wounds with the other, desperate to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood it dripped on the floor and soaked his clothes too. Your lips kept on slightly moving, repeating something that he couldn’t hear with all the noise around. He brought you closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and he finally heard your whisper:

“Say… you…love…me…say…you…love…me…”

He doesn’t remember ever feeling like he’s going to die from despair until that very moment when he knew he can’t do anything for you. Your breathing was getting shallow and your lips didn’t move anymore. You just looked at him, slowly blinking, your vision getting cloudy, holding on with all you had got, waiting for him to say the words.

“I love… you,” you heard him say, and you wanted to tell him not to ever cry because nobody can see the Joker cry. But you couldn’t say the words.

“I love… you.”

That’s all you heard before you closed your eyes.


It’s starting to get breezy on the balcony. He cracks his neck, placing your cell phone in his pocket, not sure what to do with his.

He finally decides and dials Frost’s number.

“Yes, sir?”

“Bring the car around and leave the engine on, I have to go somewhere. Alone. I’ll be back in a few days.”

“OK, boss.”

The Joker gets his purple coat and glances at your picture in the hallway before taking his leave.

“See you soon, baby doll,” he smiles, closing the door behind him.

Also read - MASTERLIST :

I’ve had this blog just over four months now and I never once believed that I’d have as many followers as I do! It just baffles me completely. Thank you all for being there for me (even though I’m not that great and I’m procrastinating answering asks because I’m so tired) you are all wonderful people and you all deserve the utmost happiness! Cheers to you all for making my tumblr experience so fun and welcoming! :)

Originally posted by dassala

You know what baffles me? We’ve had this “all brown people are terrorists” thing for like 16 years now. That’s 16 years of the same damn stereotype. I don’t know, maybe it’s just crazy to me, but to me that’s like 16 years of eating the same food or watching the same episode of the same show. And it’s like, “hold up, how are you equating terrorism and people dying to food or tv shows?” Because I can. Legitimately. Because for the last 16 years, it’s been a part of our DAILY CONSUMPTION. As angry as people get towards Muslims when these attacks blow up in the news and throw even more red paint on the whole image that is now questionably Islam, has anyone stopped to consider the names of the victims in all these attacks? Suicide bomber in Baghdad blows him/herself up and kills 120 in a marketplace. Maybe you’ll comb the Internet and find the name of the bomber/s but you never really care to know the names of the victims. Have you stopped to look up the names of victims of terror attacks anywhere in the world? I know I haven’t. Because we’re so used to these headlines, we expect it. And the way they’re reported is always in way that serves to remind the majority “hey man, don’t forget you still hate your neighbours because they’re different and this is what their people did so don’t let that hate simmer down.” So yeah. Terrorism has literally been like eating the same food and watching the same episode of the same show on tv because the rhetoric has not changed, the perception has not shifted, the voice of the media is the same as it was 16 years ago. And unless people start getting angry and talking about it all the way up to the people IN media, things won’t change 5-10 years from now either.

Jamie Benn #1.2

Here is the part two of the Jamie Benn original drabble. This is longer and just full of angst. It’s like angst all day everyday for the next thousand words but I hope you enjoy it still and I hope it will make you want a part three because I honestly can’t leave it just like this, right?

Part 1 here. Part 3 here.

Word count: 1, 369

Originally posted by bennyandthestars

A strong sense of déjà vu hit as you slumped on the kitchen stool. Jamie was making a fruit and protein smoothie, the one he drinks first thing in the morning every day.

He looked up from fiddling with the blender, “nightmare?”

You frowned at him, “why do you think that?”

He snorted, “you look like you didn’t sleep well.”

You flipped him the finger, “fuck you, you know this is how I always look in the morning.”

He laughed, “and it scares me every time.”

“Whatever.” grinning back at him.

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Tumblr, you're doing me a baffle

I have never, NEVER had a post in my entire life on Tumblr hit over 30 notes before.

Not on my serious posts, not on doodles I dedicated a whole day to perfecting, hell, not even on my even shittier shitposts. None of the above have ever even made it to 10 notes.

Yet the moment I make a shitpost about Scaramouche everyone’s all over that shit, reblogging it left, right and centre and liking it like crazy.

Tumblr, explain. Explain right now. I’m too confused.

Selina Kyle Imagine

This is Part Three of “Imagine Selina saving you from a suicide attempt”, you can read part one here and part two here if you’d like. There will probably be one last part to this one so I hope you enjoy :) 

Originally posted by nixleblancfrancois

Not Requested: A heart to heart with Bruce(who you are staying with) and Selina’s return with super fluffy smut(my first smut so be nice please). REMINDER: Selina Kyle is 22 here, Bruce Wayne is 20.

Selina Kyle x Reader: Angst/Fluffy Smut

Warnings: may be TRIGGERING, mentions of loss(family death), girlxgirl smut

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***If you like this, PLEASE REBLOG****

Okay so I am just sort of sick of Gamzee getting the bad end of the stick because of recent upd8s past. Bluh I don’t want to rant but it all aggravates me because now Gamzee is the butt of the jokes and abuse Eridan’s character used to, and probably still if we’re being honest here, get.

STOP REPEATING THE THINGS GAMZEE DID. Yeah, he did bad, shoving it everyone’s faces isn’t gonna change. Instead hope for some REDEMPTION for this troll. Cuz he’s a great character and I love him and I want to SEE him get better.

bluh semi rant over, sorry about that.

Character development [FQ spoilers]

The Golden Fool:

‘I want to know!’ I suddenly roared at him. ‘It does matter, and I want to know, once and for all. Who are you? What are you? I’ve seen the Fool, I’ve seen Lord Golden, and I heard you speak to that Jek in a woman’s voice. Amber. I confess that baffles me most of all. Why would you live as a woman in Bingtown? Why do you allow Jek to go on believing you are a woman and in love with me?’

Fool’s Quest:

She seemed to feel me looking at her. ‘Does it bother you?’ she asked me.

I did not ask her what she meant. ‘Strange to say, no. You are you. Fool, Lord Golden, Amber, and Beloved. You are you, and we know one another as well as two people can.’

[…] ‘There was a time,’ she began, ‘when you would’ve hated this masquerade.’

‘There was,’ I agreed. ‘And this is a different time.’

Elijah Mikaelson - How You Are

Prompt: Heyyyy! Can you please do a elijah x reader where the reader is like 17 but dating elijah and sometimes she feels like she’s too young cuz he’s obv so old and been with like katherine and stuff, but he assured her he loves her as she is? Thanks!

You sighed, biting your nail and looking down at your book. You managed a full line before your eyes trailed back up to Elijah again. He was sitting on the chair across from you, bathed in sunlight from the large bay window of the lounge as his hands casually turned the pages of a book he’d probably read a thousand times. He’d probably read it a thousand times because he’s a thousand years old. You swapped fingers, biting the nail of your thumb, the only nail that hadn’t currently been chewed down to the nub. Elijah’s dark eyes met your gaze and you looked down immediately, pretending to immerse yourself in a book that you couldn’t even remember the title of.

“Y/N, you’ve been staring at me for the past half an hour. Don’t mistake me though, my dear, I am flattered.” Elijah stated, smiling. You smiled half heartedly back.
“Is it a crime to stare at the most attractive man I know?” You joked though it was obvious to even your own ears that something was indeed wrong. His expression dulled before he raised an eyebrow, closing his book.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?”
You looked down, closing your own book, taking an extraordinary amount of time to read the cover. He appeared in front of you, on his knees with a hand resting on your leg.
“You can tell me anything, Y/N.”

Your eyes darted down to his, noting the sincerity dwelling in them.
“How old are you?” You asked meekly. He frowned slightly.
“1000 and-” He paused, counting in his head. He couldn’t remember his age. That made the whole situation so much worse. “39.”
“I’m 17, ‘Lijah.” You stated, looking away from his intent stare.
“This bothers you.” He said slowly, unable to hide the concern in his voice.
“Not because you’re so much older.” You began, frantically trying to persuade him that that’s not what you meant, you fingers playing with his, you weren’t sure whether that was for your benefit or his.
“You’ve just been with girls like Katherine and Katherine is pretty and smart and she’s-” You stopped short. “She’s like 500 years old.”
“543, if I’m correct.” Elijah added with a smirk lifting his lips.

You frowned at him. Telling you how old Katherine actually was would make you feel worse, not better and Elijah was a smart man, he knew that.
“Why are you smiling?” You asked, scowling suspiciously.
“Because, my dear, your jealousy is strangely attractive.”
“I am not jealous!” You exclaimed indignantly, pouting like a small child. “I just feel inadequate, you know? You’ve been with many women, and they’re all cultured and-”
“You obviously don’t see yourself clearly, Y/N.” He sighed, placing either of his hands on each of your cheeks. “You may be young, my dear, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less beautiful or any less good enough for me. The idea that you of all people would worry about whether you are good enough baffles me to no end.”
You smiled as he pulled your face downwards, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you exactly how you are, my dear. No more, no less.”

@the-stars-n-an-alien hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet“First time I kissed a boy was the time I realized I was probably…”

Neil shot him a playfully accusing look. “I mean, I’ve kissed girls before and I wasn’t opposed to that. But that was a while ago.”

“Okay, I can see that happening,” since Wally himself didn’t mind kissing any gender at all. “What baffles me is that you only thought you might be homosexual after kissing a boy.” A sly smile on his face.