#just write whatever and maybe you can use some of it in something else someday

[laurelindebear]

Why don't I know anything??

I just don't know enough, do I. I keep trying to write about things I just don't know or understand and it's ridiculous. I'll never be able to research and learn enough and still finish anything. If I'm actually going to do this, it has to be something I have some expertise in, which would be a lot easier if I weren't a goddamned flighty dilettante who can't commit. I'd have that damn PhD I always wanted if I could, wouldn't I?

I mean I can write about depression and anxiety and religious trauma and self-loathing but I don't even wanna read that, let alone write a story about it. I know shockingly little about the place where I live and I'm not sure I care enough to learn. If I ever knew anything about the place I grew up, that place is gone now. (Chrissie Hynde would know what I mean, I guess, except at this rate I'll never go back....)

I was actually writing a little again for the first time in weeks and now one stupid little metaphor comparison has tanked me. (Well, and a fresh reminder that anything I can do, someone else can do better.)

Fuckity.

[heartfullofleeches]

Just say your Carnis and puppy!reader post, and my head immediately went to cattle dog!reader or emotional support puppy!reader would be an amazing pair for Carnis. Allow me to ramble a bit about emotional support puppy!reader for a bit-

disclaimer! I do not have an emotional support dog...I've got emotional support guinea pigs -kinda- so take my thoughts with a tablespoon of salt. ^^;

Anyways-!

- Emotional support puppy!reader who was the one who started the dynamic between the two without really realizing that was what they were doing. They'd catch Carnis in the middle of a panic attack or a trauma episode, and their first thought is to sit down beside him. Slowly inching closer and closer until they're sitting shoulder to shoulder with them. Turning their (reader's) head slightly towards him so they can keep an eye on his heart rate and anxiety levels.

- Emotional support puppy!reader who starts following Carnis around where they go, always within a quick few steps away from them. So that any time Carnis starts to seem like they're slipping into a nasty unfun headspace, Emotional support puppy!Reader can be there to gently guide them down to a sitting position. (Maybe if Carnis would be comfortable with it, Emotional support puppy!Reader can do some compression therapy by laying on top of the big softie. Especially if Emotional support puppy!Read is also Himbo/beefy puppy!Reader. So it's like a weighted blanket -and Carnis gets a face full of puppy!Reader's chest. It's warm.)

- Carnis who becomes a bit dependent on Emotional support puppy!Reader. Gaining separation anxiety, freaking out and pushing themselves into a panic attack if Reader isn't an arms length away. Which only makes Reader feel all that more like they've gotta be there for their friend :(.

- Carnis who treats Emotional support puppy!Reader more like an emotional support stuffy a child might carry around with them 24/7

- (Emotional support puppy!Reader who -as a joke- gets a collar or like vest that says 'Emotional Support Animal' with Carnis' name under the words. Both writing out in big letters)

Just emotional support puppy!Reader and Carnis brain rot.

I saw beefy and himbo used to describe Reader, and my soul ascended to the heavens- You were already cooking with this, but a sweet, himbo puppy who makes it their duty to keep Carnis in a stable mind is gold. Carnis had dealt with orderlies pinning them down whenever they lashed out in the lab- Those rough, cruel hands replaced by the passive weight and fluff of a kind puppy would do wonders for Carnis, and put them out like a light.

Besides their embrace, nothing soothes Carnis quicker than Puppy yapping about whatever topic their brain comes up with- It gives them something else to focus on than what's dragging them down, and Puppy has never painted Carnis repeating words and phrases they say in a negative light, which the cow values more than anything.

Carnis dependency gets so bad somedays they'll have a full blown melt down if Puppy makes the harmless mistake of switch over to another isle in the grocery store. If Carnis doesn't have them in his immediate line of sight, who knows what might happen? Puppy gifting Carnis an article of clothing ripe with their scent like a shirt or jacket helps him work up the courage to distance themselves from Puppy for a while... If they didn't get too caught sniffing it all the time.

-

Carnis: Y/n a-asked me to pick up some tomatoes for dinner. They gave.. me their sweater because they trusted me.... Y/n's sweater.... Puppy's sweater... Smells nice. Soft too.. L-like them... Sleepy..

Puppy Reader: Haha- We'll work on this later, let's just go together, like always!

-

Puppy Reader: So, there's this donut shop that has huuuge donut display on their roof, and everytime I pass it I wonder how much of it I could eat before I got sick if it were real... Sorry- This probably isn't helping much, wanna switch over to counting?

Carnis: N...no... This...is better.

[marshallpupfan]

The Air Rescue Controversy...

At the time of typing this, the latest episode of PAW Patrol to air was season 11's "Air Rescue: Pups Save a Hum-stronaut". In it, Skye's jet transformed and went out into space, Chase and Marshall dealt with falling debris that caught on fire upon reentry, and Rocky, Rubble and Zuma protected things at Adventure Bay's new airport. The controversial thing here, however, was how the latter three pups referred to themselves as the "ground crew".

The moment I heard them say that, I knew there would be grumbling around the fandom. This, combined with the continued confirmation that only Chase, Marshall and Skye received aerial vehicles, did not sit too well with fans. Those three are off saving the day, while Zuma's "job" is to press buttons to operate the plane wash, Rubble does... whatever he does, and Rocky uses a new vehicle to help load and unload luggage. Fans have pointed out the inequality regarding the treatment of three of these main characters, and how it just doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

The thing is, I don't necessarily mind the idea. In fact, I'd argue that, on paper, it sounds just fine. People tend to forget that those on the ground are quite important, too. And given the size of Chase, Marshall and Skye's new vehicles, having six large aerial vehicles in the air at the same time, and in the same space, might not be the best idea. This isn't like Jet to the Rescue, in which each pup had tiny, personal planes. Besides, I'm not sure about them trying to squeeze in a "construction plane" or something.

The idea of a ground crew sounds fine... again, on paper. The execution, like many episodes these past seasons, is the problem. If they wanted a ground crew, they should've given the three something to make them just as or close to useful as the other three in the air.

Did they? Nope.

Zuma presses a button to run a plane wash. This is pretty much all he does, outside of sticking a sponge on his paw to clean a lens or push some stairs on wheels around (I think Rubble did this once, too). Compare that to Skye and her new jet, flying around at high speeds and even traveling up into space. It's quite the gap, to say the least.

They really should've done something to prevent this. My personal idea, if you'll indulge a person who still wishes he could write for this cartoon someday, is to just ditch the ground crew idea for those three pups (and give it to someone else, who I'll mention later). Instead, how about each of the three new aerial vehicles has a secondary feature, which is ran by one of those other three pups? Marshall's plane can put out fires, but if there's ever an emergency at sea, he can launch Zuma's dropship submersible. Chase's helicopter can save the day however it does, but if something up high needs repair, Rocky can operate robotic-like arms (similar to what's inside his pup pack) while the copter hovers in place. As for Skye and Rubble, I'm not sure how to squeeze construction equipment in there, but maybe one of you can think of something.

In any case, this could've been a good way to send all of the pups into the air, not to mention it might've made for some fun toys, too ("FIREFIGHTER PLANE SET, WITH MARSHALL FIGUREINE + ZUMA & HIS DROPSHIP!! ONE BUTTON SHOOTS WATER, WHILE THE OTHER LAUNCHES THE DROPSHIP FROM THE BOTTOM!!"). Instead, they stuck three of them on the ground and gave them jobs that, let's face it, could've easily been handled by Robo-Dog. Yeah, he's oddly absent during this subseries, huh? Besides, having each new aerial vehicle carry two pups could've allowed for some fun dialogue during missions, too. Marshall and Zuma can chat while en route, and then Zuma can watch a radar or camera while Marshall's focused on putting out fires. Hey, most planes have a pilot and a co-pilot, right? There are plenty of possibilities!

Sadly, they instead went with something quite questionable. And it's worrisome, given that this could easily happen again under PAW Patrol's new director. Will the next subseries, Fire Rescue, continue this unequal treatment? Will Marshall, Chase and Skye get fancy new firefighting vehicles while Zuma only presses a button to open a garage door, Rocky just puts tools on the new vehicles and sometimes makes repairs, and Rubble gets a smaller vehicle that's designed only to refill the water tanks in said new vehicles? It goes without saying that fans are hoping that's not the case.

Despite my complaints over the last few years, I still like PAW Patrol... but I can't help but shake my head at some of their decisions as of late. It seems like every time the franchise does something good, something bad comes along to drag it down again. They give us Boomer, and then they give us Zuma's plane wash. It's weird.

Given that Marshall's my favorite, I'm hoping Fire Rescue avoids this issue. I really want his subseries to win fans over and give us something great. I don't want to see it become another Air Rescue, which hasn't even concluded yet and it's already left some fans so disappointed.

Well, we do have four 11-minute segments remaining of Air Rescue, so hopefully it'll give the "ground crew" something good to make the idea worth it. Hey, you never know! Let's hope, anyway.

[noellefan101]

I´ll Keep You Warm-Albedo Oneshot

Characters: Albedo x gn Reader

Summary: you give Albedo an unexpected visit in Dragonspine, and he warms you up(+crushes on you).

"Warnings": established relationship, not proof-read

Note: im tired, i wanna sleep aahhhhhh

He wasn't expecting you to visit him on Dragonspine today, although you told him you´d be visiting him, he just wasn't quite expecting it to be today. It doesn't bother him, but he was quite focused on the experiment he was currently working on, and you were already distracting. But he paid his experiment no mind when he saw the state you were in, though you had on a good few layers of clothes and some food for him in your hands(your man needs to eat, badly)but you were freezing. He was quick to take the food out of your hands, lay you down on his mattress he never uses, and give you a nice thick blanket to warm you up a little.

The experiment had long gone from his mind, now he all thought about was making sure you were warm enough. Even through all your protests that he shouldn´t worry about you, and go back to whatever he was working on. But how could he ever do that when your normally warm and soft skin was now freezing cold.

Making sure you were alright and well was much more important to him than working right now. He also didn't want to deal with you being sick, but he didn't tell you that.

He waited for you to fall asleep, brushing your hair with his fingers, doing his very best to make you feel safe and warm. It didn't take you long to fall asleep, your face peacefully lying on the pillow he brought for you.

He didnt actually do much while you were sleeping, to distracted by your face to go do something else. Looking at your mesmerizing face was enough to entertain him for longer than he thought and would like to admit.

Its not like what he was doing before wasnt interesting to him anymore, it definitely was, he just found something else to spend his time on. Though its not productive, he will admit that, he couldn´t take his eyes off of you for longer than a few seconds. he considered drawing you, sealing your beauty on a piece of paper, but decided not to. He would rather have this memory all on his own, only within him and him alone. He also didnt even think he could capture your beauty with even the prettiest of paints.

People always compliment him on his art, drawings, paintings, or whatever they´ll call it at the time. But he doesn't think he´ll be even close to doing your beauty justice, he knows you´ll disagree, you always do when he says he can´t.

Maybe he´ll do it someday, but not know, as he is too lost in your beauty to process anything else other than you.

He loves you more than you and him realises.

thank u for reading, im very sorry for not posting, I'm trying to write but I just have no ideas and my mind is blank(also dealing with mental health issues), luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[xxchumanixx]

Here's my Magnum PI Thomas x reader request 🤗 it's some kind of the always loved enemies to lovers trope, with hurt reader, an annoyed Thomas with slightly asshole vibes but he improves during the story until we have our beloved cute sassy Thomas with his heart of gold. So let's go (please feel free to change the details, to ignore the request or just use some aspects).

Reader was a good friend of Rick and moved recently to Hawaii

She needs help cause she's threatening due to an investigation she made to write an article (I imagine her as a journalist, but of course you change that)

Rick is worried for the safely of his childhood beat friend and so he is determined to keep her safe. And what place is the safest on the island? Robin's Nest with the 24/7 protection of Thomas Magnum

Thomas is absolutely not amused to play "babysitter" as he refers to it

Reader feels really uncomfortable to intrude and Thomas complaining is making her more shy than she already is

She doesn't want to annoy Thomas more so she tries to be invisible in the house

Thomas often teases her in bad way

I picture reader as a shy but lovely young woman and to make it a bit more dramatic she suffers from bad migraine attacks when under stress and stress is what hee bothers her now. The bad feeling that Thomas hates her and having a target on her head makes her health spiraling

When one day Rick wants to visit his friend and Thomas he notices her feeling super bad (dizziness, nausea, bad migraine) and also explains Thomas the whole situation (her health, the reason she's threatened and her huge sense of justice). Maybe Rick also explain him that she's like a little sister to him etc

Thomas begins to see reader differently and his behavior changes. He takes care for her stops being an asshole

Soooorry I know it's long :D and I've got sooo many ideas but I don't want to waste more of your time. Even if I have another idea for a story in which reader works with Thomas and at first they don't get along sooo great and she hides a severe injury from him....

I hope my request doesn't bother you.

Love your work

Vitamins and Bulletholes

Thomas Magnum x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, hurt, angst, reader has migraine attacks Word count: 4.786 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I'm always down for some enemies to lovers, so I'm very exited about this idea! I know this problem with having too many ideas, I also have so many of them (especially when I don't have time to write, like when I'm at work, have to sleep or whatever), and sometimes I even mix them up, because I lose focus. Whupsi... So I really appreciate how detailed your request is! Also, I'm a migraine patient as well, so I know how bad these attacks can be... Anyways, lets get going! Enjoy!

Hawaii.

It was like breathing the freshest and most delicious air on planet earth.

Fragrances you would nowhere else smell, sights you would nowhere else see.

It was magical, pure bliss.

The birds singing melodies in the trees, wearing the most colorful and beautiful feathers you could imagine.

After your first vacation on the island, you knew that someday, you would move here. Now the time had come, finally having made your dream come true.

Rick, your childhood best friend (and maybe your first crush) had helped you move, accompanied by his friend TC.

TC was like a big, cuddly teddy bear. He didn't have to do much to wrap you around his finger. He was nice and sweet, something you at first wouldn't have imagined, given his size and broad shoulders.

You had bought a house, a very nice one with a beautiful garden. It wasn't cheap, but after saving every penny you could, it made it even more worth the wait.

The whole moving situation, finding a new job and stuff, caused you to suffer from migraine attacks more frequently, though. You were prone to them, especially when you were under pressure or exposed to stress.

After settling in, starting your new job as a journalist, and finally getting to breathe more freely, the attacks luckily lessened again.

That was, until you did something dumb.

Very dumb.

You weren't new to dangerous situations, having your fair share with gangs and bad people, something that came along with being a journalist back in Chicago.

This, was something entirely different, though.

But how did you get into this situation in the first place?

When your boss, an ambitious and eager woman with zero tolerance for failures, told you to bring up something big, you inwardly rubbed your hands.

This was your chance to move up the ladder, to impress her.

That you would have a target on your back by the end of the day, you didn't know then.

Originally, you were supposed to get a statement of a young man, exposing a chemical company that was said to dispose off their toxic waste in a nearby river, contaminating the water and making people sick.

Originally.

That he was being observed by people hired by said company, neither of you knew - nor even noticed.

But they saw you, and when they broke into your house, threatening your life when you made the mistake to talk back, you slowly realized in what kind of situation you had maneuvered yourself.

That the man was killed only a few days later, gave you the final push to do something about it.

"Y/N, you're on Hawaii for barely a month now, and you already managed to pin a target on your back?" Rick yelled, frustration and confusion clear on his face, as he threw the towel he had used to wipe his hands with on the counter.

Rubbing your face, you sighed, only the more realizing how bad your situation really was.

"I know..." you groaned, sipping your coke, the dull pain behind your forehead returning. "But how was I supposed to know this would happen? I mean, he was at a damn safehouse, they shouldn't have even known where he was!"

Rick cocked a brow at your words, leaning on his elbows, his face inches from yours. "Did they exchange your brain for a dumb one, when you moved here?" he wanted to know, sending you a pointed look.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him, causing him to chuckle slightly.

"You know how this works, you should have noticed them after being in this industry for the last couple years now." he spoke softly, sighing.

"I know..." you grumbled, rubbing your temples. He bit his cheek, scratching his chin. "Migraine?" he guessed, standing more straight again. You nodded slightly, digging in your bag for some painkillers.

Once you had found them, you swallowed them with the coke, before your gaze wandered through the bar.

"Did I mention how great it is that you own a bar?" you asked, smiling at Rick as you looked back at him. He chuckled, cleaning a few glasses.

"Free drinks for me?" you asked slyly, smirking at him, as you batted your lashes. He laughed, shaking his head. "No, even if you're my sister, you have to pay for your drinks like the others do."

You huffed playfully, emptying your glass, before you slid it over to him. He took it as he shook his head at your attempt. "Even Thomas has to pay for them."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you leaned more towards him, propped on your elbows. "When do I get to meet the infamous Thomas Magnum?" you wanted to know, tilting your head.

Rick had told you about him multiple times, they had served together with TC, were best friends. He was living on Hawaii as well, working as a private investigator.

"Infamous, huh?" someone spoke behind you, causing you to turn towards the source of the voice. "Huh." you made quietly, mimicking him.

Speaking of the devil, right?

He smiled at you, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Thomas Magnum." he introduced himself, as you took his hand. "And you must be the infamous Y/N Y/L/N, I assume."

You nodded, taking him in.

He was even more handsome than he was on the pictures Rick had sent you.

"Rick talks about you nonstop." he told you, smirking. You blushed a little, chuckling. "Only good things, I hope." He nodded, chuckling as well.

"Thomas, perfect timing." Rick mused, drawing Thomas' gaze towards him, as he cocked a brow. "Is Higgins with you?" Thomas shook his head, denying. "What do you need?"

Rick hesitated a second, licking his lips.

"Y/N here, works as a journalist." he started, motioning at you. "And she somehow managed to make some people very mad." Thomas mouth twisted, eyes narrowing. "What type of people?" he wanted to know, glancing at you.

You swallowed, sighing, as Rick answered for you.

"She was supposed to investigate in that case of Cleantec disposing of its chemical waste in a nearby river." he explained. "She interviewed a former employee, that was at a safehouse, because he was supposed to testify in court."

"He's dead now." you chimed in, licking your lip, before you bit down on the cushion.

Thomas' brows furrowed, as he looked between you and Rick.

"The people responsible for his death threatened her. Now we're worried that they're after her as well." Rick continued, hesitating again. "And the only place where she would be really safe at is Robins Nest."

Thomas' eyes widened, mouth agape. "And now you're suggesting that we let her stay at hotel Robins Nest?" he concluded, brows raised. He didn't seem all too happy about the idea.

Rubbing your eyes, you swallowed. Of course you were scared - Hell, the whole killer at your back situation scared the living shit out of you, but you didn't want to be a burden to anyone.

"I'm worried for her safety, Thomas." Rick pressed, sending him a pleading look. "I don't want to be a burden." you cut in, before Rick could have said more. "I can handle this on my own."

Thomas bit his lip, clearly torn between helping and not.

Then he pulled out his phone, dialing someone.

"Hey Higgins." he began, his free hand playing with a beer mat. "Ricks friend, Y/N, is being targeted by killers, and now she needs someplace safe to stay at. Do you think we can let her stay at Robins Nest?"

It was quiet for a few seconds, as Higgins answered him. "Okay, thanks." Thomas then said, before he ended the call. "You can stay." he told you, stuffing the phone back inside his pocket.

Eyes widening, you thanked him, still unsure if you should really do this. But it was better than constantly having to watch your back, right?

"You need to keep her safe at all costs." Rick clarified, leaning foward to underline his words. Thomas' brows rose, pointing at himself. "I'm not a babysitter." he made clear, gaze wandering towards you for a split second.

Ricks eyes widened in earnesty, not believing he heard him right. "She's my sister, Thomas." he pressed, shaking his head. "She needs to stay safe. If you won't do it, I will."

Thomas groaned in discontent, but you cut him off, before he was able to respond.

"Look-" you began, holding out your arms in a gesture of diffidence and surrender. "you don't have to keep a watch on me - I'm sure we can figure this out without you even noticing me."

Thomas sent you a pointed look, having trouble to believe your words.

"And if I bother you too much, I will just go back to my house. I'm sure I can manage just fine."

Rick made a sound of protest, the towel he held hitting your shoulder. "Y/N, you're not gonna be alone until these guys are either arrested or dead!" he told you, determined.

Sighing, you bit your cheek, giving in as you nodded slightly. "Whatever you say."

"Damn right, whatever I say."

____

Even though he was your brother - you had somewhere along the way of your friendship decided that you had to be siblings, people even mistook you as being siblings when you were younger - you could have hit him, hard.

Robins Nest was much bigger, than you had imagined.

Rick had told you multiple times about it. You knew that Thomas stayed at the guest house and that Juliet Higgins lived in the main house, but he failed to mention that it was this big.

It was intimidating, honestly.

So, when you arrived in your car - which was in no way a comparison to the ones parked up front - you needed a moment to catch your breath and slow down your racing heart.

How were you supposed to not get lost on this property?

Getting out of your car, you grabbed your bags that held the things you needed for your stay.

You just hoped you had packed enough. Who knew how long your stay would get?

Sighing, you walked towards what seemed to be the front door, ringing the bell. It took a few seconds for someone to answer, but when she did, you were sure this was not Juliet.

You somehow remembered her differently from all the pictures Rick had sent.

"Aloha, you must be Y/N." the woman greeted you, smiling warmly and you couldn't help but return the smile. "I'm Kumu. Come in, the others are already waiting."

Your brows lifted, not sure what she meant. "The others?" you questioned, following her, as she made her way through the mansion. She nodded, leading you to an open living room with windows as big as your bedroom was back in Chicago.

In said room were several people gathered: Rick, TC, Thomas, Higgins and Shammy.

Brows furrowing, you sat down your bag, gaze shifting between the people staring your way.

"Am I missing something?" you wanted to know, feeling the uneasiness creeping through you. "No, but mr. insecure told us to meet here." Thomas gave back, sending Rick a displeased look.

Clearing your throat, you noticed how your cheeks grew hot. Suddenly, you wished to be back at your place, immediately feeling unwelcome.

"I'm sorry for all this turmoil, I can just go back home and we'll forget about it." you suggested, feeling more and more uncomfortable. "No, you'll stay." Juliet spoke up, stepping towards you, holding out her hand for you to shake.

"I'm Juliet Higgins. Nice to meet you." she introduced herself, as you took her hand and shook it. "Y/N Y/L/N." you gave back, forcing yourself to smile despite the uneasy feeling inside you.

"The others are here, because Rick told us what happened." she explained, motioning at the others. "Thomas might not be happy about it, but we're not letting anyone down, no matter what happened. We want to help."

She turned more towards you, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Oh, and he'll come to terms with it, just give him a little time."

You nodded almost unnoticeable, swallowing.

"But, how are you gonna help me?" you wanted to know, fingers tugging at lose strings on your jeans. "Thomas and I are private investigators." Juliet spoke, walking towards a table to your right with a laptop placed on it.

"We will investigate in your case."

Eyes widening, you chuckled uneasily. "But, I don't have the money to hire you." you told her, biting your cheek. Suddenly, you felt ashamed, knowing that Juliet seemed to have already begun researching.

"Oh, don't worry." she told you, typing away on the laptop. "It's pro bono." Sighing, you nodded, feeling a little relieved. "Thank you." you said, looking at the others. "Thank you all, even if you don't really know me, except for Rick and Shammy."

You hat chatted with Shammy before, after Rick told you how they met him. He was a little grumpy sometimes, but he had a heart of gold.

The others nodded, even Thomas, though he still seemed grim.

____

When the others were gone and it was already dark outside, you had settled in one of the guest rooms of the main house. Juliet had the staff ready a room for you earlier, one that was bigger than your living room back in Chicago.

Robin had to have a lot of money, if one of his residences - one he barely visited himself - was this big and luxurious.

But you had read his books, knowing all about the white knight, so you understood where the money came from.

He was a genius.

The white knight had inspired you to start as a journalist, he gave you the strength when you doubted yourself - even if he was just fictional.

Swallowing, you sent the painkillers down your throat, sighing to yourself. You just hoped your stay wouldn't get any more complicated than it already was.

____

It had been two weeks, since you moved to Robin's Nest - Yes, literally moved.

You hadn't seen your house other than gathering more clothes and the mail. Other than that, you weren't allowed to leave the property of Robin's Nest.

It was hard, you had to take time off your job, explaining them the situation as best as you could, hoping they wouldn't fire you.

Meanwhile living with Thomas was... difficult.

Even though he resided in the guest house of the property, working on your case as well as on another one, you still saw him plenty of times.

Either he was plundering the wine cellar, making Higgins furious over the various missing bottles he never replaced, or he was getting himself something to eat or just lounging around whenever he had the time.

You had barely spoken to him, other than about your case or occasionally a hello or goodbye - or him complaining. You sensed his discomfort, knowing that he wasn't fond of your presence, even though you did your best not to stand in his way - literally.

The typical cliche moment of standing opposite each other, both stepping left and right to get out of the way, had occurred more than once.

You had migraine attacks almost every day, already having had to restock your painkillers.

Sighing, you shifted on the couch with your laptop on your legs, doing research. Yes, I know what you might think now, but after what happened, you couldn't just sit by and wait.

You had to at least do some research, using your skills and contacts to help.

That you came up almost empty handed, you didn't tell the others, though. They didn't even know you were doing research in the first place.

Your breathing hitched, heart pounding faster in your chest, as you suddenly felt a presence loom over you. You heard him breathe almost unnoticeable, he was quieter than normal people were.

Smelling his meanwhile familiar cologne, you relaxed slightly.

It was Thomas.

Still your hands began to sweat, heart pounding even faster.

"And here I thought we would do the investigation." he mumbled, causing you to flinch slightly at how close he really was. Taking a deep breath - of course as quiet as possible - you tried to calm yourself, as he rounded the sofa, looking down at you.

"I'm just doing some research." you defended yourself, holding his gaze, as his eyes narrowed slightly. "In case you have forgot, I am a journalist. It's my job to do research. And if I'm able to find something, even better!"

He cocked a brow at you, tilting his head mockingly. "Are you able to find something?" he wanted to know, even though he could already guess the answer.

Taking another deep breath as not to explode - your head already did that on his own - you bit your cheek, breaking eye contact after a few more seconds.

He truly had a way of getting under your skin.

"What do you want?" you tried to stir the conversation away from you, looking back at your laptop, typing away.

It took him a few seconds to answer, as his eyes roamed over you. You were looking uncomfortable, only the slightest bit, but he had a schooled eye - he knew when something was up.

"Are you okay?"

He surprised you with his question, causing your brows to furrow slightly. "I'm fine." you responded, briefly glancing up at him. "Why?"

He didn't respond, only sitting down in an armchair.

His presence made you all the more uncomfortable, his curious gaze burning holes into your skin.

He was handsome, you couldn't deny it, and yes, you would have hooked up with him, if it wasn't for his comments and him being so dismissive towards you.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to ignore him, fingers tapping on the smooth surface of your laptop, lost in thought. You had already browsed every platform you knew, coming up with nothing useful.

Biting your lip, you sighed, closing the laptop.

Your migraine was making it hard to concentrate, anyways.

"Don't you have anything to do?" you wanted to know, giving Thomas a pointed look. He only sipped his beer, shaking his head.

Only then did you notice that it was already dawn.

"What, missed the time?" he quipped, sending that pointed look right back at you. "Maybe you shouldn't waste your time doing research, when your not able to find anything, anyways."

He was hot, but his way towards you, made him colder than the antarctic.

____

Having lived at Robin's Nest for over a month now, you and Higgins became friends. You got along very well, having a lot of things in common.

Your case stretched on like chewing gum, having no hints or new findings. Thomas grew frustrated, never having had a case that went on for so long.

You hadn't got out of bed today, your current migraine attack causing you to have nausea, barely holding yourself back from vomiting.

Unfortunately, he let it out on you with witty comments and snarky remarks, causing your health to spiral further downwards.

He took every chance he got to pick on you.

You made out voices in the distance, recognizing Rick.

"Where's Y/N?" he wanted to know, his steps getting closer. "She's probably still sleeping, too exhausted from all the research she's been doing." you heard Thomas respond, their voices getting louder.

"What?" Rick gave back, shocked. "What research? I thought she wasn't working as long as the case went on?"

Someone knocked at your door and you groaned, causing the door to be ripped open, Rick barging inside. "Fuck." he breathed out, kneeling down beside you.

Swallowing, your eyes met his. You didn't need to tell him for him to know what was going on.

"Have you taken painkillers already?" he wanted to know, brows furrowing in worry. "Yes." you mumbled, sighing.

Thomas stepped further inside the room, his eyes scanning over you, taking in your distraught face and hunched figure. "What's going on?" he inquired, brows furrowing as well.

"Y/N is prone to migraine attacks." Rick started to explain, his fingers brushing through your hair absentmindedly. "When she's exposed to stress or is having a hard time it can trigger an attack. Sometimes, when the pain gets too much, she suffers from nausea and dizziness as well. She's having a migraine attack right now."

Thomas swallowed, now understanding what was going on with you. He'd been an absolute ass to you, only worsening your condition.

He felt guilty.

It wasn't that he couldn't stand you, in fact it was quiet the opposite. But after he was this way towards you in the beginning, he wasn't able to break out of it.

It had almost become a bad habit of sorts.

Rick straightened back up, motioning for Thomas to follow him as he left the room to gather a hot water bottle.

____

When you woke up, your head was doing a little better. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you smelled herbs, causing you to frown.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you heard Thomas say. Looking up, you saw him standing at your bed, a cup in his hands. "I thought you'd like some tea, when you feel better."

Licking your dry lips, you sat up, taking the cup as he offered it to you. "Thanks?" you said, not sure how to react. "Is it poisoned?" His brows furrowed, as he huffed. "No, of course not."

Sending him a small smile, you sipped some of the hot tea. It warmed your body, spreading a nice feeling through you.

"May I?" he motioned at your bed, asking if he could sit down. You nodded, and he did. "I didn't know you were having these migraine attacks." he began, licking his bottom lip, as he looked at his hands, before his eyes met yours.

"Had I known I wouldn't have acted this way. I was a complete ass to you, which only worsened your condition - Rick told me about it. I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention."

You were taken aback by his apology, not having expected that change in behavior. "Wow." you breathed out, stunned. "I didn't expect that."

He chuckled, brushing over his chin.

"Yeah, I know." he gave back, smiling slightly. "Somehow everyone's surprised when I apologize." Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. Your head already felt a lot better.

"I've got you some vitamins as well." he explained, pointing at the package on your bedside table. "Oh, and we finally have a breakthrough in your case."

You sat up further at his words, eyes widening.

He grinned knowingly. "Yeah, we found a lead to the killers. But that's for later. What do you say we ask the cook to make somethin'?"

Your brows rose. "Who are you and what did you do with Thomas Magnum?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Get up, I'll get us something to eat."

Huffing silently, you obeyed.

Getting out of bed you walked into the bath, as he left. The shower helped clear your mind a little, soothing your aching muscles.

When you stepped into the dining room, Higgins walked in from the other side. "Thomas!" she almost yelled in anger, her hands at her hips as she stopped in front of him.

Tilting your head, you watched them, curious about what had happened now.

"What happened to the ferrari?"

Thomas bit his lip, leaning on the table behind him, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wandered towards you and he shrugged. "The lead I found might included them shooting at me." he explained, slightly shrinking, as Higgins inhaled sharply.

Eyes widening, you took a step forwards.

"Really, I don't know what to say." Higgins mumbled, shaking her head. "But hey, I've got her some vitamins for her migraine." Thomas added, smiling hesitantly.

"Vitamins and bulletholes." you said, shaking your head. "Sounds like an article I would write."

Even Higgins had to chuckle at that, as Thomas winked at you.

Maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

____

"Why is it always everyone but me?" Thomas grumbled, watching the dogs chase each other. Cocking a brow, you tilted your head at him. "What do you mean? They are quiet lovely, aren't they?"

He abruptly stopped, his feet kicking up some of the freshly cut grass. He looked at you in shock, spreading his arms. "No!" he gave back. "They are cruel monsters, trying to kill me every chance they get!"

You chuckled at his exasperation, turning back around towards the ocean. The view was breathtaking, really.

He huffed, following you as you started to walk further towards the beach.

Over the last two weeks you and Thomas had talked a lot, after he promised to be nice to you. He had no reason to be harsh or angry at you, he never really had.

Rick's words had shaken him out of his behavior towards you, showing him that you were more than the burden he had first expected you to be.

He had explained why you got into this situation in the first place - yes, you got into this situation when you talked back at the killers, but Rick explained why you had taken this upon yourself at all.

He explained that you fought for a better environment, Cleantecs diposal of chemical waste something you wanted to expose to the public, helping the people that had been affected by it.

The man that had been killed wanted the same.

His wife had been killed by it, her cancer having worsened due to the chemicals in the water. She didn't make it, too weak from the chemo.

You knew that feeling, your mother having died of cancer when you were still very young.

Even though you knew it was dangerous to talk to the man, you still had taken that risk, even when Rick had warned you about it. You wanted peace for him and justice for his wife.

Thomas watched you with amazement, as you walked in front of him, having created a slight distance between you, after he took a moment longer to follow you.

He had a small smile on his lips, as he noticed that he wanted to get to know you better. Even though you had talked a lot and learned a lot about each other, he still had the feeling that there was even more to you.

You turned slightly, as he caught up with you. "Are you going to continue your work as a journalist?" he wanted to know, watching you.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Yes. Now that the case is solved and there's no target on my back anymore, I think it's time for the next one."

He snorted, his shoulder bumping yours. "I'm not gonna rescue you again." he warned you, chuckling to himself.

Higgins and him were able to solve the case, after Thomas managed to catch one of the killers red handed. You were relieved, now finally being able to sleep again.

As a bonus, you had managed to write that article, exposing Cleantech.

You stopped at a slope, looking down at the water. It was peaceful, the sun shining down on you.

Turning your head, you looked at Thomas, only to find him already looking at you. You swallowed at his intense gaze, the rest of your body turning towards him as well.

He silently stared at you, mouth slightly agape. His scent clouded your senses, heating your body up.

He leaned closer, as your heart hammered in your chest. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, and the urge to close the gap and press your lips against his, was overwhelming.

His breath fanned over your face, eyes darting to your lips, before he closed the distance, kissing you. Your hands wrapped around his neck instinctively, tugging him closer, as his hands wandered to your hips.

His lips caressed yours, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You let it in, sighing softly.

Your lips parted, as you both had to gasp for air. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his fingers removing lose strands of hair from your face.

Breathing heavily, you smiled at him and he returned it.

"What do you say we go out for dinner?" he suggested, swallowing. He wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous. Your smile widened, nodding. "I'd love that."

His smile widened as well, sighing in relieve.

"How's your head?" he wanted to know, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, as you started to walk back to the main house. "Good." you gave back, nodding to yourself. "I haven't had an attack in over a week now."

He tugged you closer. "Good."

As you walked, you heard the dogs bark, Thomas stiffening and you chuckled.

"Damn these dogs."

[spookyxsprinkles]

🍦 Freezer Burn [oneshot]

todoroki touya × poc friendly f!reader.

-> not safe for work // 6.3k words // AO3. -> warnings: angst, break up, arguing, crying, touya has an avoidant attachment style, dialogue heavy, poor communication, nipple biting, oral, possessive, fingering.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. We weren't even dating," Touya said, taking his keys out of his pocket.

"I--I know but... you know what I mean."

"What do you expect me to say?" He scoffed. "That I'm sorry? 'Cause I'm not. I don't want this."

"Liar."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He opened the door of your apartment and walked out towards his car.

 "You think I don't know you're pushing me away on purpose?" You follow him out, not caring that you had different shoes on. "As much as you like to pretend you don't care, I know you--"

He interrupted you with an angry laugh, before turning to face you as he reached the sidewalk in front of his car. "You must be delusional if you think you have me all figured out. Don't tell me what I feel. You don't fucking know me."

His car's lights flashed as it unlocked and he opened the door, standing there and glaring at you like if you had spit in his face. Maybe, in his mind, you did.

"I don't need to know every little thing about you to know that you're lying to yourself because you're afraid."

"Afraid of what, huh? Afraid that I'll actually start to care about you as more than just a hole I use to get my rocks off, before ghosting you like all the others that came before? Yeah, you're not special, sweetheart," his hands trembled with fury.

You visibly flinched at his words.

You knew he was right. You were acquainted with him through mutual friends for quite some time before getting physically involved with him. You knew of his non-committal self-sabotaging tendencies. You knew, but it didn't make his words hurt any less.

A flash of guilt flickered in his icy eyes but it disappeared just as soon as it came thanks to the scorching heat of his emotions. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke quietly with stinging eyes.

"Maybe I'm not special, but at least I can be honest with myself. Which is more than you can say about yourself."

He threw his hands up in the air, laughing. "Real cute coming from you. I'm not the one that's so desperate for attention I start writing sappy love stories in my head. Maybe someday you'll find someone who wants to deal with this shit, but it's not gonna be me."

He moved to get in his car, so you took a few steps forward which was enough to catch his attention and stop him from getting in.

"You were just as lonely and desperate for attention as me when we first met, Touya. You parade around all day acting like you don't care about anything, you can't feel anything, but if that was the case you wouldn't come back. You always come back home."

It was a slip up a few months ago. The two of you were out with some friends at a karaoke room and he said he wanted to go home. You never brought it up to him, but he could tell from the way you nearly choked on your food, that you heard him. Since then, every time he heard the word 'home' he'd think about that moment and regret letting himself drink enough to forget his common fucking sense.

And now you had acknowledged that it was a real moment that actually happened when he'd much rather shove the memory away and pretend it was something someone else said. Someone not him.

You stood a few feet in front of him, sniffling and staring down at the tires of his car that he had taught you how to change and fill with air without you asking him to.

"You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. You never do anything you don't want to do, but you kept coming back." You wiped your nose, ignoring the feeling of the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. "Even now, you're still standing here, talking with me instead of leaving. If you didn't care, you would have already left."

He froze as if you had pushed the pause button on his anger. He stared at you intensely. The only sounds breaking the silence was a dog barking at sirens in the distance and your sniffles.

He hated that you were right.

"So what?"

He got in his car, slamming the door in anger and started the engine.

He buckled his seat belt and turned in his seat to look through the rear window as he slowly backed out of the parking space.

You panicked, suddenly shoving your upper body inside his open window.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" He hit the breaks immediately, causing you to flail as you lost your balance and he swiftly grabbed your arms to keep you from slipping and busting your head on asphalt.

"W--We haven't finished talking..!" You gasped, feeling your heartbeat pounding in your chest. "If you leave now, you'll only feel worse later!"

He simply stared at you in disbelief. His mind was screaming at him to get the hell out of there. The only thing stopping him from flooring the gas pedal was the fact that your legs still dangled helplessly outside of the car as you struggled to get inside.

You looked ridiculously stupid as you clung to the window with a tear streaked face. You also seemed so determined…

"Get out of my car," he snapped. "Right now."

He released a hand from you and moved it towards the handle of the door, but you caught his wrist with your hands.

"No," you said as firmly as your grip on his wrist.

His eyes watched as you continued to struggle to balance your body on the door comfortably. He had no idea what your endgame was here.

"You're fucking crazy."

"I love you, Touya," you gasped out. "I'm in love with you and I know you're afraid. I know you've been hurt before. I know you hate everything that's happening right now, but I can't let you leave like this." You tried wiping your eye by rubbing it against your shoulder, before looking back at him.

"I won't force you to stay with me and I won't force you to share things you don't want to share, but I also won't let you run away without us properly talking things through. If we're gonna break up then I don't want to let it end with that as one of our regrets."

He hated that you weren't giving up on him so easily.

Touya stared at you as you spoke. You were so calm and reasonable in spite of the ridiculous position you were in. There was no anger or irritation in your voice, just sincerity and...

He let out a deep breath in an attempt to stay calm.

"That's very big of you," he said defensively. He was always so defensive. "Trust me, it's better this way."

Your eyes studied his face before you decide to take the plunge and vocalize the thoughts that had been swimming around in your head recently. "Is it better or is it just the easiest way to avoid your feelings of inadequacy and fear of rejection?"

You watched as his eyes widened a minuscule amount that likely would've gone unnoticed if you hadn't known him for so long. You could feel the flames of his rage from the way his face contorted, his mouth opening to set you ablaze.

Your hands slipped down from his wrist to hold his hand gently in yours, your thumbs resting on the back of his hand.

Your grip was loose. He could easily pulled himself free if he wanted to.

But he didn't.

And that's all you needed.

"I've seen you be blunt beyond the point of just being rude to others and to yourself. You have standards that make it easy for you to look down on those who don't meet them yet even the ones that do fit them get pushed away. You easily say whatever's on your mind, unless what's on your mind risks leaving you vulnerable."

Your thumbs delicately drew circles into the dark marks on the back of his hand that were uniquely his. A sad smile marred your face as you continued to speak.

"I'm always watching you, always listening." Your eyes looked up into his, persevering through his gaze that scorched anything he deemed a threat. "You'd rather be alone than feel alone."

He was speechless as he watched you speak. You read him like an open book. A book he routinely burned whenever someone poked and prodded in a pathetic attempt to get closer to him. How had he let his fire get extinguished so easily? How did it not burn you like it did everyone else?

Like it burned him.

Even he was unable to escape his own flames unscathed.

The fantasy that played in his mind's eye was one where you patiently stood before him as the smoke cleared. His eyes stung and his breathing hitched at the thought.

He sighed deeply, looking more tired than you'd ever seen him before.

"I was serious," his words and tone contrasting with the heavy look he carried on his face. "You're wasting your time if you expect me to tell me what you wanna hear."

You shook your head, "I'm not asking you to say it back. I don't need words when your actions mean more to me." I bring his knuckles to my lips, pressing a soft kiss before looking into his eyes, "Besides, if it's time you're worried about, I wouldn't mind wasting it together."

His entire body reflexively ached to leave at the display of vulnerability, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Words escaped him as he stared back into your eyes with a confusing mix of fear and hope swirling in his icy blues.

He swallowed hard and finally spoke, "So, all this time," he started as he gathered his bearings, "you've been watching me like some kind of weirdo?"

"Of course," you laughed softly. The movement set a jolt of pain to your abdomen that reminded you of your current position. "Can we go back inside and talk? My stomach hurts from hanging out in your car like this..."

You hissed as you tried to remove yourself from the car. It was definitely gonna leave a mark. He waited until you moved back to the sidewalk before he parked and got out.

"I didn't tell you to jump through the window like a maniac. Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Desperate times call for--"

"Dumb ass fucking measures?"

"Yes, precisely. Glad we're on the same page."

He rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, walking back to the apartment. "Masochist."

"Sadist."

"You know the door was unlocked, right? I was gonna show you 'til you started manhandling me."

"Never let them know your next move."

"So, just dangle like an idiot and hope you don't get run over?"

"I'll admit I'm not good under pressure."

He snorted as you opened the door. He just realized you had chased him out in different shoes. Desperate times, indeed.

"Anyways," you continued as you shut the door behind you and removed your shoes, "You liked it. Thought it was super cool and hot when I was flailing around like an idiot."

"Yeah," he said genuinely, catching you off guard and nearly causing you to trip over the entryway step, but you caught yourself against his arm.

You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeated sincerely, his eyes staying on yours. "I did."

You swallowed, feeling your eyes prickle with tears as your mouth gaped at him.

He pinched your cheek.

"C'mon," he said as he walked away from you and further into your home to take a seat on the couch. "Let's do this talking thing. We can watch a movie after or whatever..."

You couldn't see his face as he walked away but you could hear his uncharacteristically breathy inflection and stiff tone when he spoke. Was he feeling nervous? Shy..?

The fact that he was the one trying to get the conversation started rather than avoiding it made your chest bloom with warmth. You had expected him to come up with other things to do first in order to put off the awkward and uncomfortable feelings for a bit longer.

You hopped over to him with a blindingly bright grin, sitting near him on the couch to give him some space for this conversation. However, he pulled your body closer to his so that your sides were pressed up against each other. He wrapped an arm around you while you leaned against his chest.

"So..." he started and you could hear something akin to timidity in his tone so you hugged him, letting your hands affectionately stroke his sides. "I'm shit at feelings."

You wanted to laugh at his blunt word choice but didn't want to come off as mocking and discourage him from speaking. "You are not shit at feelings. You seem to feel things quite strongly. We just need to work on helping you feel more comfortable with letting them out in a healthy way, rather than boxing them up and defaulting to avoidance."

"So, I'm shit at feelings."

"If you say that one more time I am going to bite you."

"I'm shit at-- what the fuck!"

"You were warned."

"My fucking tit--"

"Not my fault it's so chewy."

"I'm shit at-- don't you bite me you fucking animal. Hear me out." He had pinched your cheek again to stop your open mouth from it's impending attack. "I'm shit at this. I know. Don't… laugh at me."

Your eyes softened and you brought your hand up to cup the one he had squeezing your cheek. He released his hold on your skin but you kept it held as you let it slide down to your lap.

"It might feel a bit awkward for you but I promise I won't think less of you for sharing your feelings. I appreciate that you've been trying."

"'Been trying?' I've done jack shit."

"No, you have done 'shit'." You reassured him as your fingers drew circles into the skin of his hand. "You came inside--"

"I always come inside," he smirked.

You bit him again.

"What? No complaint for me this time, Touya?"

"I deserved it."

"Masochist."

"Sadist."

Your lips pursed for a moment as you tried to remember where you were.

"Ah, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," you glared at him playfully, "You've already shown me that you're trying. You came back inside, initiated our talking time, and you're participating, too. I know emotional stuff feels hard, but I'm really, really proud of you."

He let out a 'tch' in jest, before leaning down to whisper into the side of your head. "In case you forgot, I also listened to you while you tried playing leap frog on my car."

"Very true, but I didn't forget. I didn't want to include it since I was practically holding you hostage at the time."

"Hostage?" He laughed haughtily, "If I really wanted to leave you I would've ran you over."

"Why is that strangely sweet..."

"'Cause you're a damn masochist. Get help."

"This, coming from the sadist..." The room was quiet as I rubbed his chest lightly with one hand. "I was really scared you were going to leave earlier, Touya. Like, for good."

He clenched his jaw but didn't say anything, opting to listen since he knew she probably had more to say on the matter. And she did.

"I was afraid that I scared you off by talking about-- about whatever menial domestic thing it was we were talking about before. I can't even remember what it was." You clutched his shirt without thinking as you struggled to remember what could've been the catalyst to losing the person you loved.

"Toilet paper," he stated after a pause. "You read about some sale at the store and were talking about how we should go before the weekend so we could stock up. Then you mentioned wanting to buy me strawberry ice cream."

Silence.

"It all sounded so permanent, so easy to you." You could feel his body tense as he struggled to force himself to speak. "Seeing a future where we go grocery shopping for toilet paper and you buying me something. Something that'll sit in the freezer waiting for me even when I'm not around. Something just for me." His last words were barely a whisper.

Your mouth felt dry, it made sense. He had a hard time staying in one place for too long if it felt like he was being smothered or expected to do things he didn't want to do. Your apartment was no exception, even if he clearly spent more time here than any other place.

"Yeah, you're not special, sweetheart."

You felt a cold ache in your chest at the thought of his angry words from earlier.

You told yourself they were just that, angry words. If they were true, would he have bothered to come back at all? No. You knew Touya was good at lying and even better at emotional warfare. It's how he protected himself. He hadn't done it to you since before the two of you were friends, back when you were just another random person trying too hard to get to know him. Today was the first time in years he had said something that caused you to feel bad about yourself.

You would need to talk about it with him later. Right now you wanted to hear him out, so you shove the memory away for now. You can worry about it later.

As painful as it was to hear him speak of his troubles with having a place to call home, you were grateful to him for really trying. Really, it was incredible just how far he's come already. You always knew he was a fast learner if he wanted to be and this meant so much to you. He had never let himself get this vulnerable with you before.

You wanted to tell him something in response but why did it have to be now, of all times, that you couldn't find the words to speak?

You forced yourself to swallow and nodded at him in encouragement. You didn't want to cry and risk him getting cold feet about the feelings thing. You didn't want him to think this was a mistake and that you couldn't handle the truth, because you could, you just felt deeply for the inner conflicts that took place inside of his head. His fears, his happiness, his efforts... it all meant the world to you and it was really getting to you.

You quietly cleared your throat and with a hoarse voice said, "I can see how that would have caused you to react the w-way that you did."

You mentally cursed yourself for the way your voice broke pathetically mid-sentence. "Sorry about that." And you were. You knew he got flighty over things like that but in the moment I just wasn't thinking.

"Hey, don't wimp out on me now." He pinched at your cheek again. "If I'm gonna bare my damn soul or whatever the hell, you sure as shit better not hold out on me. If you gotta get weepy, then get weepy. I'll save the laughing for later."

Your lips trembled at his words and you can feel your face crumple as you bury it into his chest and wept.

"I was so scared I lost you, Touya."

He stared down at you, committing the sight to memory.

His carelessness did this.

He pulled you in closer to him and placed his cheek on the crown of your head. A little while later you calmed down, sniffling and apologizing for accidentally turning his shirt into a tissue.

"Sorry, this is really embarrassing," you sniffled out with a stuffy nose.

He took in the sight of your puffy eyes and runny nose, before looking away. "S'whatever. I know you, too, you know. That thing you said earlier? About you always watching and listening? I do the same shit with you. If being a crybaby helps, then do it unless you wanna be shit at feelings, too."

Sniffle. "We're both not the best at handling our own feelings, huh..."

"An understatement, in my case."

"It's good that you're acknowledging the areas where you could use some improvement." You say as you reach up to cup his cheek and kissed the corner of his lip. "You're doing so well, Touya."

The way your thumb gently rubbed the pale skin of his cheek while you looked at him with honey in your eyes made his chest ache.

"You--" he swallowed as he held your gaze, "think so?"

You nodded and leaned in to press another kiss on his lips. "I know so."

He felt that familiar urge to run away when shit got too personal, but he yearned for more of the pure warmth you offered to his cold, sorry existence.

"I can't promise to always be better. I'll fuck up. I know it. Just don't give-- don't give up on me."

Sharing feelings was embarrassing, painfully so. At least, that's what he told himself to explain the lump in his throat when he struggled to say the words out loud. His hand moved to your thigh and squeezed it, "I'm stubborn but I don't want to fuck this up. When I fuck up, I'll need time to get my head out of my ass."

You felt like crying again seeing how desperately he tried to let you know he wasn't going to always be good at the communication, but he wanted to be and he was trying.

"I'll sit in the freezer waiting for you."

"I-- what? The hell?"

You laugh softly at his dumbfounded expression. "I'll be the ice cream sitting in the freezer waiting for you. So, don't worry about having to rush the process. Do your best. I believe in you, Touya."

He stared at your face for a moment.

"You have low iron. The freezer would kill you."

"I'll be fine 'cause you're always warm."

He once again felt that familiar ache in his chest that he usually got around you. "Wait too long and you'll get freezer burn."

"Are you saying a little freezer burn would keep you from eating your favourite ice cream?" You paused when you noticed his amused expression. "Okay, I walked myself into that one."

"Yeah," the corner of his lip twitched as his eyes darkened. "You did."

"Hey, I know that look. We need to finish talking first-- T-Touya!"

He grabbed your legs, flipping you on your back against the couch with him crawling over you.

"Don't you wanna reward me for doing well so far?" He asked in a low voice. You whimpered at the sight of his heavily lidded eyes looking down at you, amused with your flustered face.

"W-Well, positive reinforcement is a good way of encouraging good behavior, so yes we can, but you have to swear we will talk about this right after-"

He expertly rolled his hips against you, making you gasp. "I'm feeling pretty encouraged right now. You can feel it too, I bet."

You definitely felt it.

He kissed your lips as he removed your bottoms, pushing the backs of your knees as far against as he knew you could comfortably take, exposing the entirety of you in your underwear.

"I swear," he licked a slow stripe against the fabric before pushing it to the side and staring hungrily at your flesh, "on my god damn dick, we'll talk right after I make you come at least four times."

"F-Four?" You could feel his thumb teasing you as he swiped up and down your flesh.

"Five now," his lips wrapped around your sweet spot. He sucked while rubbing his tongue against it at the same time, making your body shudder.

He needed to make up for making you cry so much today.

Your hips bucked against his face, then his fingers.

"So fucking eager after all that talking, huh?" He gave a lopsided grin as he licked the taste of you left behind on his lips. "Yeah, we're definitely talking more often."

He soaked his fingers with the bottle of lube he liked leaving between the seat cushions for times like these. You felt one of his slick fingers tease your tight hole.

"Tell me who fucks you better than me."

"N-No one!"

"Weak shit. Say it again."

"You're the only one who fucks me t-this well!"

He slowly pressed his finger in, the stretch making you sing. He took his time prepping you before inserting another finger and moving in and out of you. He lapped you into whines, working his hand at the pace he knew drove you wild. You cried out praises for him, which he liked almost as much as he liked fucking you to tears.

"And who does this hole belong to? Who owns the rest of this pretty body?"

"Y-You do, it's yours, Touya! It's all yours for you to use as you please!"

You felt your legs trembling as he kept his hands busy with fucking you. The coil inside of you tightening as he vigorously pumped and sucked.

"T-Touya..!" You voice broke as you wailed.

He smirked, feeling satisfied at how fervently your hips bucked against him. You were a needy mess and he hadn't even stretched you with his fat cock yet.

Soon.

"It's mine. You're all fucking mine." His head dived back in and you felt yourself on the precipice of-

"Yeah, you're not special sweetheart."

You shook your head and looked down at him as he looked up at you. He sucked you hard, making your back arch. You were so close.

You stared through half lidded eyes, throat already sore from the sounds he'd easily pulled from you. You tried to focus on the view of him pleasuring you with expertise. Your was mouth open as you shut your eyes and leaned your head back against the couch. You were so close.

"Afraid of what, huh? Afraid that I'll actually start to care about you as more than just a hole I use to get my rocks off, before ghosting you like all the others that came before you?"

You grit your teeth.

Now was not the time for this.

Your eyes shut. You forced the memory away from the forefront of your mind. It doesn't matter right now, you'll tell him how you feel about it later.

Now wasn't the time.

Later.

Later.

...

"Fuck!!" You felt Touya pull his body away from you. "Did I not hear you say the safeword!?"

You opened your eyes and Touya's blurry face had moved from in between your legs to kneeling on the floor beside where you laid on the couch. You blinked your eyes and wiped them with your hands. Oh.

You were crying again.

The realization brought more tears and you looked over at Touya who stared down at you fearfully.

"Maybe someday you'll find someone who wants to deal with this shit, but it's not gonna be me."

"Hey, what--" his voice cracked.

Your body shook as you sobbed into your hands.

A sinking feeling had found it's place in his stomach. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't-- I didn't hear you-"

"T-That's not it." Your voice muffled by your hands and your stuffed nose as you continued to sob. "The sex was consensual the w-whole time."

He looked down at you confused. Relieved that he hadn't hurt you in that way, but stressed since he didn't know what happened to you. His chest burned with anxiety and it made him feel restless. He grabbed your throw blanket and pulled it over you, which you used to hide your sloppy face as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Touya," you cried quietly and he stared down at you frozen with fear.

It was him.

"Tell me what I did." He knew he'd fuck up. He just didn't think it'd be this soon.

You didn't want to hurt him. You wanted to protect him but how could you protect him from the very words he spat at you in a desperate rage? Not speaking up about your own feelings fully and pushing them aside for someone else's sake is how you got here in the first place.

You needed to practice what you preached.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said to me."

The parking lot. He already knew. He hated himself when he said those things and he hated himself now.

It was only a matter of time until he'd ruin things here.

You saw him grab his phone from the floor before standing up and walking across the living room. It must have fallen during your activities.

"I'll text Toga to come by. I'll stay until then."

"Don't go."

"I shouldn't be here."

"Because you hurt my feelings?"

"Yes!" He snapped. "This isn't masochism, it's straight up fucking delusional if you can't see the problem with me staying."

"You hurt my feelings," you sniffled. "It's going hurt whether or not you leave. Stay and talk with me about it."

"This talking shit clearly isn't working. One second you're telling me I fuck you the best then suddenly you're crying in the next. I already ruined whatever we could've had before it even started. We already know how this ends, so don't waste your time."

"If you leave then we will know how this ends." You sat up on the couch, clutching the soft blanket like a lifeline. Your voice was firm, but not enough to cover your soft determination. "You're hurt and so am I. So, sit with me instead of running away. Leaving things the way they are now is the sure-fire way to ruin this."

His jaw tightened as he stayed where he was.

"We talked a little bit earlier, but the issue just now wasn't your fault. It was mine-"

"You're not the one who said all that nasty shit to the person you-" He turned away and glared holes into an innocent plant. "It's over. We're not even fucking dating and it's over." He ran a hand through his hair and laughed.

"You did say horrible things, but I kept brushing off my feelings. We talked a bit earlier, but I still had feelings left unsaid." You stood up, the sound of your feet padding against the floor behind him made him stiffen. You stood in front of him, with your arms loosely crossed on your chest. "How are you supposed to know that stuff was still bothering me? It's not like you can read my mind."

"Don't be fucking dense."

"I seem to recall us wanting to work things out. You told me not to give up on you, remember?"

"Before I realized I traumatized you by saying a bunch of shit!"

"You didn't traumatize me, you hurt my feelings. There's a difference."

"You know the reason you had 'feelings left unsaid' is 'cause I basically mounted you before you could finish saying them, right?"

"No, that's not true and don't demonize yourself like that." You reached for his hand that was balled into a fist at his side, but he pulled it away.

He wasn't worthy of your compassion.

You frowned but didn't let it deter you. "I said it was okay --and before you say anything-- I wasn't coerced into it, either."

His eye twitched at her already knowing what he was going to say before he said it.

"You tease and mock, but you've shown me time and time again that you respect me and my body. You waited until I gave consent and I know that if I didn't give it, you would've let it go and let me talk about my feelings instead. You didn't take advantage of me. I disrespected myself by not prioritizing my own feelings. That's what the main issue was here."

"You said you couldn't stop thinking about what I said. It's my fault, they were my shitty fucking words."

"I'm not trying to say your words weren't a part of it, they definitely were, but I know you were just... saying what you could to put distance in between us."

He sneered, "Is that what you're telling yourself? Doesn't matter why I said it. Intentional or not, lies or not: it still fucking hurt you." His lips curled bitterly as remorse stained the cool blue of his eyes. "It'll be what you think of when you see me from now on."

You took a small step towards him, careful not to invade his personal space but enough to momentarily satisfy your need for physical closeness. Your need for the comfortable heat he offered to you as you both stood together in silence.

"I won't lie..." You started.

He knew that you never lied to him. Your stupidly sincere approach to interactions with him were probably what got him wrapped around your finger in the first place.

He did wonder if you ever lied to yourself about him, though. It'd explain why you let him stick around even while knowing he was a jackass.

He also recognized there wasn't any actual weight to that way of thinking. If anything, the times where your feelings felt so real outweighed those paranoid thoughts of his. Sometimes he'd catch you looking at him. The sweet honey dripping from your eyes at him doing fuck all felt so raw that he'd panic and have to leave for a while.

Whenever you smiled at him, even the soft little ones, you beamed bright enough to burn him to cinders if he let it. Lately, he had found himself simmering under your heat longer and longer, letting himself get singed by you.

Seeing you fidget with the hem of your top snapped him out of his thoughts. You were still in your underwear and it reminded him that he'd burned you. Not with the heat of patience and kindness that you regularly thawed him with, but with flames full of his own agonizingly self-sabotaging wrath.

"I won't lie," you repeated after taking a couple seconds to gather your thoughts. "I'll probably always think about what you said."

He already knew it yet it still made him hate himself more.

"The same way you'll probably always think about it, too."

You sweet, merciful, stupid fucking angel.

"Stop."

"No. You need to hear this."

"Just fucking stop."

"Don't interrupt me, Touya."

He glared at you in irritation as he clenched and unclenched his hands in an attempt to keep himself grounded. Mentally and literally. If he ran away now, you wouldn't be able to share your thoughts. He owed you that and so much more.

"It's something that effected the both of us and it'll change the way we are, but we don't have to let it change us in a bad way. We can use our hurt to help us grow." You said while looking at him with eyes full of hope. "We won't forget it happened and we shouldn't."

"We-- you--," he stammered. He could see the patience in your face and logic, feel the tender touch of your words. He was concurrently immolated by your steadfast mercy and by his venomous wrath. "We need to end this before you get hurt again."

"'Before I get hurt again'? I am going to get hurt again. By you, myself, or some other thing. It's what happens as we live and grow. The difference is learning from it. This is our 'before', and if you let us, we can work on moving on towards our 'after'."

"You know how ridiculously optimistic that sounds, right? Stupidly sappy, too. You really think it's as simple as that?"

"Can I hold your hand?"

He blinked in confusion at the randomness of the question but gave a small nod. You took ahold of it with both of your own.

"We both know it won't be simple. We both have baggage and hurt we'd need to address if we want to be something. It's going to be really hard, but if you stay I know that we'll both put in the work to reach our 'after' and every 'after' after that."

He stayed silent as he took in her words. You really saw--

"--Lots of 'after's, huh?" He quietly spoke as he tried to drown out his nerves with a teasing tone.

He looked at you with hopeful eyes that brought a small smile to your face.

"Lots of 'after's. I am your ice cream sitting in the freezer, remember?"

He'd scoff if he hadn't just gotten the wind knocked from his lungs.

You raise his hand to your lips before pressing a little kiss on the scars on the back of his hand before tugging it gently so he'd follow you to sit back down on the couch.

"I'm not eating freezer burnt ice cream."

"Hey! That's so mean…" you pouted. "And wasteful. You're way too picky of an eater, no wonder you're always grumpy."

"I'm fucking with you."

"Oh, I know. I'm fucking with you, too."

"Sadist..." He affectionately played with the shell of your ear while resting his cheek on your head. The gesture filled her with elation as they sat in comfortable silence.

"Look, I'm..." he started, struggling with his words.

"I know."

"I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have said those things earlier."

"I know."

"You didn't deserve it," his voice was softer.

"I know," you wrapped your arms around his firm torso, squeezing a little tighter.

"You're clingy. What're you thinking? Don't skimp out on me again, I wanna hear all the ugly shit, too." He lightly pinched at your cheek, "This shit ain't gonna work if it's one-sided. Start talking."

You smiled as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

"Okay, Touya."

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff!

OC Interview

Well, I did Avymere, so let's give Elsind some love too :)

.

1. Are you named after anyone?

"Not that I know of? I've met a few Elsinds - it's not a super uncommon name - so maybe I was and my mom just didn't tell me."

2. When was the last time you cried?

"Aw man, yesterday night. I was trying to make some brownies, but I burnt them pretty bad, and it was just a lot. The night before that, I read this sad book and cried so hard my face was sore."

3. Do you have kids?

"I'm twenty, and I honestly don't even know how that would work with me being a changeling and all, so no. I'd like kids someday though, I think."

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Not really? I don't think I do. Can you be sarcastic on accident?"

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Their face. I like faces. I like to remember them in case I have to use them later, but really, they're all just so beautiful that I can't help but stare. I've never understood when people call other people ugly - there are just more or less symmetrical faces. One isn't better or worse than the other, they're just interesting in different ways."

6. What's your eye colour?

"I don't have eyes in my true form, but I can make eyes in whatever color you'd like."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

"Happy endings, by the gods, yes. I love it when a book gets me feeling all warm and hopeful on the inside. I think I'd cry if I had to watch something scary."

8. Any special talents?

"Um, I can squeeze into really small spaces? Oh, but that's not really a talent, it's just biology. I wouldn't say I'm talented at poetry - I just dabble sometimes."

9. Where were you born?

"In a little village called Shéllon, a few mountain peaks east of Salis."

10. Do you have any pets?

"No, but I've always wanted a cat!"

11. What sort of sports do you play?

"Eh, I'm not really the sporty type. I'm happy to watch just about anything, though."

12. How tall are you?

"That depends."

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

"I didn't go to school properly because there wasn't one in Shéllon, but my mom homeschooled me as best she could. My favorite part was reading all the books she'd bring me, of course. I prefer lighter things, but I do have a few classics under my belt."

14. What is your dream job?

"I... I really don't know. I'd love to work in a library, but gods, some of those teashops just seem so fun with their fancy uniforms. There aren't any flowers this far north, but I saw a florist's stall in a painting once, and it seemed so magical as well. Really, I just want a job I'm happy to go to, and that gives me enough time off to enjoy myself. Work isn't my purpose, after all."

.

I'll tag @jasminewalkerauthor @scribble-dee-vee @pluppsauthor @pluttskutt @halfbakedspuds and anyone else who wants to play :)

Blanks under the cut

1. Are you named after anyone?

2. When was the last time you cried?

3. Do you have kids?

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

6. What's your eye colour?

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

8. Any special talents?

9. Where were you born?

10. Do you have any pets?

11. What sort of sports do you play?

12. How tall are you?

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

14. What is your dream job?

[prongsfish]

thank you @fandom-trash-goblin for the tag!!

1. Are you named after anyone? nope :)

2. When was the last time you cried? i'm not sure actually, but definitely within the last 24h. i cry very easily

3. Do you have kids? noooo. i'd say i'm too young but actually i'm not all that far off from how old my mum was jeez... i don't exactly plan on following her lead in that though, she was quite young and atm i don't ever plan on having kids. i don't think i'd be a very good parent and i don't think i'll ever be ready to make a commitment that big.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? i do sometimes but i'm not a very dry type of sarcastic, i usually over-exaggerate to extremes

5. What sports do you play/have you played? i played netball as a kid but i'm not very sporty... i also played a bit of volleyball in hs

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people? i'm not sure honestly. just, their appearance i guess? i have a bad habit of judging people very quickly based on their appearance and other similarly shallow factors, so i guess the first thing i "notice" is just whatever category i put them in inside of my head

7. Scary movies or happy endings? these are two entirely seperate things, but in general my favourite movies have ambiguous or bittersweet endings so probably scary movies? i don't watch a lot of horror because i prioritise an impactful story over anything else and i don't like realistic scary stories, but i like general scary atmospheres and some of my favourite pieces of media are horror (donnie darko, the haunting of hill house)

8. Any special talents? not really? idk, there are things i'm good at, but not any interesting talents that come to mind

9. Where were you born? australia. that's the most specific you're getting sorry

10. What are your hobbies? doomscrolling, listening to pretentious music, consuming + talking about media, reading/writing fanfic, drawing, and... not much else really lol. i don't do much, and there are more things i'd like to do but i barely have time to do the hobbies i already have lmao. maybe someday i'll finally learn guitar...

11. Do you have any pets? none of my own but sue me i still think of the family pets as my pets, so two dogs and three cats :)

12. All-time fave piece of media? this is an insane question but okay uhh. i seriously don't know if i can choose... i think i have to say the social network, it's my favourite movie. normal people by sally rooney is close behind (the book, i haven't seen the show yet)

13. Fave subject in school? i pretty much hated everything until i understood what was going on and then i loved it until i didn't again, rinse and repeat. but probably economics or english lit!

14. Dream job? realistically, i'm on track to becoming something in finance, probably a financial advisor or an accountant of some kind. that's kind of my "dream" field because i've been set on it since i was like 13/14, and i enjoy it! but it's definitely a compromise between enjoyment and money. for a real dream job? if i had my way i'd be a uhh professional analytical thought haver. thesis statement writer, perhaps. unfortunately it seems like there is no demand for that kind of career so i will just stick with finance LMAO

15. Eye colour? brown

no pressure tags: @crackeds0b @xeme-starx @sapphos-queer-kid

[breathe2-fr]

Field of Dreams (pt 1)

Note: I decided to make a lore thread! So if you'd rather read my lore on the FR site, you can follow the ping list I have on this thread! https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/3347947

Once I have some lore posts down, I'm going to reorganize my blog to make finding everything easier. I don't plan to write everything in chronological order so I'll have the order lined out with links to individual stories.

-----

ERA OF WIND

The dragons were born of the Wind, and in their very core, that's what they were - no matter where that wind takes them.

Spelldancer was just a fae hatchling when she discovered her unique power to shift planes. All she need to is close her eyes, like she was planning to go to sleep, and she could feel a power unfold itself inside her. Allow it to, and it would transport her to another plane. She named this place the Dream Realm. When it first started happening, she thought she was actually sleeping; but after some time, she realized this was something different. Something more.

"It must be a gift from Windsinger," Baerka would whisper when she would question herself. "He's gifted you with this power, and your pure heart allows you to share it with others. That's why he chose you, he knew you were the right one to wield it."

Neither of them really knew where it came from. In her early days, once Spelldancer learned to control it, before she had any idea it was special, she would use it to protect herself. She grew up an orphan, and having the power to instantly blip out of sight was very useful to hide away from predators.

Neither of them had ever spoken to Windsinger, though they would sometimes spot him passing by: the Wind Deity would not hide himself and, when passing through his territory, could easily be seen flying high in the atmosphere above - far higher than the pair had ever gone. Spelldancer would sometimes say they should just go talk to him, but the distance between them was far greater than she realized.

"I know it looks like he's moving slow. But he's massive. The speed he's traveling at is immense." Baerka's sleepy eyes sometimes gave off the impression that he was naive, but what Spelldancer admired about him most was actually his intelligence. "We'll never catch him, we'd already have to be in the air if we had any hope of him noticing us."

"But… how will we speak to him? Surely someone must."

"Maybe we'll find someone who knows someday."

The Dream Realm was very much like a lucid dream; anything was possible. When Spelldancer thought about it, she realized it may not actually be a dream, but a plane heavy with magic; so heavy that raw magic would drip off your palms like water. Thoughts quickly take tangible form, and without great mental control, your surroundings could turn to chaos in an instant. More than once, Spelldancer would escape danger only to immediately recreate it in her Dream. She realized she needed great mental fortitude to pause her mind and simply exist in the ocean of magic.

Spelldancer never saw anyone else in the Dream Realm, until she brought Baerka there.

Baerka was a tundra. When Spelldancer first met him, she thought he was an ugly thing, not even realizing he was a dragon like her. Fur? A muzzle? He looked closer to a beast. It wasn't until she saw his great wings that she paused. But for Baerka, it was love at first sight. He wasn't sure what fascinated him with her, but she was beautiful. He, like her, had been alone since his hatchling days. Unlike her, not having an escape act to slip away from danger, he learned to protect himself through fang and claw.

But Baerka couldn't Dream Shift. She tried explaining it to him, but he seemed confused by the idea. She tried to teach him to do it, but when demonstrating, would simply send herself there. When she returned, he shrugged and laughed. "No no, I can't turn invisible."

"I'm not turning invisible!" But the specifics didn't matter to Baerka. Whatever this was, he couldn't do it.

It didn't take long for the two to fall in love. They stayed together over the coming years, maturing into adulthood together. They nested in the open grass plains, in a lone tree that stood defiantly, with a large hollow at the bottom of the trunk. Baerka dug into the earth beneath the trunk for more space, but Spelldancer often found herself perched in the branches instead, and often sailed away into the wind without realizing it, lost in thought. Baerka would track her down, "waking" her with a gentle smile painted on his face.

With time, some answers came, from the establishment of their own clan.

[ponett]

some more SLARPG-related questions and answers taken from my retrospring:

Hi, I wanted to start by saying I loved your game and it meant a lot to me. Instead of gushing sappily though, I wanted to ask about the cross iconography in Melody's staff and Provence's armor; what cultural or religious significance does this symbol have in the world of Reverie? (If it doesn't mean anything to them but does to us that's cool too!)

the + shape (typically in green) is the symbol for healing magic, rather than a religious symbol

hi! in an answer on here just now you referred to "the beast kingdom", is that a canon thing and there is a monarchical governed body called The Beast Kingdom, or was that just something you threw out there because you didn't have a name for it, or some exciting third answer?

the country slarpg is set in is The Beast Kingdom. i can't remember if that's actually stated in the game. i think it is? maybe it was cut from the intro so as to not overwhelm the player with Fantasy Proper Nouns up front and i forgot to put it somewhere else? idk. the sapphire islands are some distance off the coast, and brightport is on the mainland

i saw some speculation about this based on the name, and yes, it's intended to be a modern constitutional monarchy

(after answering this i doubled checked, and yes, the name is mentioned in the game)

Is there any kind of animal species beast folks strictly CANNOT be? (besides RandomFurryUser726's custom closed species obviously)

off the top of my head i can't think of anything they COULDN'T be, no. mammals, birds, reptiles, sea creatures, bugs. i guess when you get to some of the more oddball invertebrates it becomes trickier, but i also wouldn't completely write off the possibility of coming up with a jellyfish character or whatever. it's just less likely that i'd go for something like that compared to, you know. furries

since holly floated the idea in her own stream: Did Jodie forge her own grill?

you know what? sure. this is canon now

How did Claire come to choosing her name? Was is just a name she liked the sound of or is there more significance for her?

undecided due to how much that part of claire's life is still unexplored

just curious, but is zinnia's hair color intended to be more 'older woman gray hair' or 'magical girl white hair'?

her hair is naturally a very light blue, like how melody and jodie just have naturally white hair

i pictured the scrap cannon skill working by magnetizing a bunch of scrap metal around one's arm to make an arm cannon and firing off a big ball of more scrap metal from that. is this a valid interpretation?

this isn't how i picture it but it's cooler than how i picture it and also adds yet another mega man allusion to the desert, so

Given that it's the day of the Big Game: How do each of the Novas (+ Faith/Beverly) feel about sports?

jodie likes sports and follows the brightport teams actively, but she's also too good of a sport to really hate their rival teams

allison's always liked the act of playing sports way more than watching them (although she was never good enough at following orders to play on a team as a kid). she'll watch the big games with jodie, though

beverly is a casual fan who will at least root for local teams but doesn't really pay that close attention

melody and faith don't follow sports but can be convinced to show up for a super bowl party type get together

claire can only get invested in a sport or team if there's a jon bois type documentary that gets deep into the nerd shit

Were there ever any other names other than SLARPG in the running? Or was it always gonna be slarpg all the way.

i always considered changing the name. i have a list of 75 different names i considered over the years in my notes, ranging from more generic fantasy titles to sillier ones to more unique ones. early on most involved melody's name. many later ones include "Reverie." i may share the full list someday (possibly good fodder for a patreon post), but the "serious" title i've mentioned considering before was Power Couple (or Power Couples). i still like that one

i debated over the title a lot for many reasons. mainly, people are weird about the title, either treating the whole game as a joke or assuming it's porn or whatever. some also assume that you just cannot play the game if you aren't a lesbian, a thing that people don't do with other fantasy things that happen to feature sapphic relationships without putting it in the title

the problem, of course, is that changing your title is often a death sentence. half the struggle with marketing a game is even getting people to remember it in the first place in an era where a million things are constantly fighting for your attention. people need to have seen it a few times before they create that mental connection of "oh, THAT game, i've heard of that." so changing your title massively undercuts that

in that regard, Super Lesbian Animal RPG is just way more unique and memorable of a title than the alternatives i was considering. it's direct and unambiguous about the content of the game, and it grabs your attention in a way that something like "Guardians of Reverie," for instance, doesn't. (that's not a title i was considering too seriously, just an example.) also it abbreviates to a unique hashtag, which i find convenient. also i can say that rock paper shotgun once referred to it as "brilliantly named," so like, of course i can't change it now

several of the names i considered are now in the running for an overall franchise name, though, since i have zero intention of naming a game Super Lesbian Animal Platformer or Super Lesbian Animal Visual Novel or whatever

I wish you could kiss Holly this life is so unfair

fear not my friend, large women exist in our world as well

are all cars on Reverie weird fantasy vehicles like the one in the Celestial Wasteland? or was it just the fact of Greenridge being a tiny town with dirt roads that made cars irrelevant to mention or see in the story?

fantasy vehicles such as flying cars and airships are very common on reverie, but regular wheeled vehicles still exist too. (there is a conversation about motorcycles in the game.) i'd imagine regular, non-flying vehicles are just the cheaper option, but they're also not particularly necessary in greenridge, a small, old town built for foot travel that doesn't exactly have a highway connecting it to the mainland

from the sounds of it, would it be safe to assume that the exact level of involvement you had in the characters Anthony/Scarlet designed varies from character to character? Like for some characters you'd have a solid-ish idea of gender/species/age/role, other times you just have the role ("I need an NPC to fill this nice"), and other times they just sprung a design on you without any prompting from you?

yeah, it varied a lot. for example, faith was a character i conceived and had a pretty clear idea of, but i was struggling to come up with her design, so anthony offered to give it a shot. other times i might request something from him, and he'll give me a black and white concept sketch that i color and then turn into a sprite. but then you've got, like, the paladin brigade, who are characters anthony just pitched to me thinking that they'd be a good addition to the cast. he came up with their names, designs, color schemes, personalities, team dynamic, everything. i just filled in details where necessary. the boys are also anthony's babies - they would not have been included in the game at all if he hadn't pushed for it

meanwhile, scarlet's characters (which included a good number of more general NPCs that didn't make it in due to time constraints) mostly consisted of me giving her broad directions like "we need some adventurers to hang around noel's sanctuary," and she'd come up with her own ideas from there

what's the hardest part of making a cohesive and/or compelling narrative to you?

for me at least, it's the logical glue that holds a story together that's the hardest. that's just the type of writer i am, and as far as i know it's pretty common to feel that way

i'll know specific scenes i wanna hit, emotional beats, the general mood and tone, images i want to use, those sorts of things, but the logical shuffling around of pieces on the chess board to connect those disparate moments is harder to nail down for me. why is this character doing this? why are they here instead of there? why can't the protagonists just do this other thing to solve their problem? what in the narrative is going to steer them towards this next moment? what is this supporting character's motivation that informs their participation in this event? why did this character know or not know this key fact? etc. and in a video game - especially an rpg like this - there's that added layer of needing to give the player clear objectives, having reasons for them to go from point A to point B, excuses for gameplay elements to space out the story beats, and whatnot. it can be a lot to juggle

with slarpg in particular i knew most of the big emotional beats and major setpiece moments i wanted to hit early on, but the logic of the plot took a LOT of reworking. lots of late night pondering and scattered notes trying to piece together the villains' plans and things of that nature

[annerbhp]

Hi anne! How have you been lately?

So, I don’t know if this is going to sound silly but I’ve been wanting to start writing fanfics for a while now but every time I sit down to write I just get stuck, which is weird because I have so many ideas floating through my head and so many things I know I want to write in my stories but every single time I decide to start writing I don’t know where to start it. I admire your writing a lot so I was wondering if you could give me some tips/suggestions? Thanks!

Hi! I am doing well. Thanks for asking!

You ask a really great question here, friend. I remember very much being there myself.

Usual disclaimer that there is no "one size fits all" writing advice. There's just things that have sometimes worked that I encourage you to try and see if they fit. And they may not fit right now, but that doesn't mean it won't help someday down the line!

That said, my immediate thought was "write all the bits that you find exciting, interesting, and fun." Like, just that part. Even if it's half a scene, a snippet of dialogue. A single paragraph describing a place or a feeling or an action. Do whatever part you really like. And do it without the thought of "I am writing this for someone else to read." This is just, "huh, wouldn't it be interesting if X happened? I'm gonna daydream about what that might be by just scribbling some stuff down." Do it and don't judge it and don't erase anything and just keep going. Maybe after a while you can go back and be like, "huh, I like this random bit here. I'm gonna add another two sentences to it."

The thing is, we need to get in the practice of writing stuff down. And often the number one killer of writing is overthinking it. Is being critical of it before we even write it down. Being critical of it as we are writing down. Look, almost all of us feel like imposters, like we're playing at something we really have no right to. But that voice is a LIAR. And that voice will keep you from doing something that might very well bring you a lot of joy.

You might want to start a habit, if that kind of thing works for you. Like writing for ten minutes a day at a set time. Where you just write words for ten minutes without judging it. You can do it by hand. You can do it on focus view on a computer, whatever works. You might try sprints, where you speed write for five/ten/fifteen minutes and see how many words you can get down (this is great for turning off the Mean Brain). Try writing for longer slower over time.

Also, if you are writing with the intent of "I will share this someday," keep in mind that it can also get in the way. It's hard, but trying "I am writing this so I can read it because this is the story I want to read," that can help.

I would also say start small. I think the first story I actually ever wrote and shared was a handful of paragraphs. Try writing a drabble! (100 words exactly.) Try writing a single scene. No one is asking for a novel. You don't need to provide tons of backstory or reasoning. Just write a single scene and see where it takes you.

I hope this helps! And I look forward to whatever you put out into the world, even if it ends up just being for yourself.

[autumnslance]

Writing To Yourself

(Mileage may vary, I'm not your mom nor your teacher--unless you're working for a specific state healthcare service, anyway.)

That's how you garden. Tend the plot. Plant a million seeds, reap a thousand blooms. The rest? Compost for the next crop. -@biot08 / @driftward

During a Discord convo, I thought about why so many fandom writers catch “writer’s block”, and some of it goes back to self-care and taking in new media, getting inspiration and knowledge, covered in this post. But much of it?

People think everything they create has to be publishable for others’ consumption. That is Not True. Too often we don't want to write things just for the sake of writing them, falling into the trap of thinking it needs to be perfectly polished and shared, but No It Really Doesn't.

Folks talk about “writing for oneself” but in terms of posting finished pieces of the kinds they want to see. If everything feels like it “has to be” publishable, it can start to put too much pressure on oneself. And then there’s your block, especially if the type to worry about how others Perceive you and your art.

Try simply writing anything and deciding later if it's something you want to share. I have pieces I wrote cuz my brain suddenly said it wanted to, but that writing isn't posted anywhere. Usually it’s random lines; out of context sentences, scenes, or bits of dialogue. Sometimes just incoherent character rambling. Ideas for situations and what ifs. Misspelled, typos, not grammatical, redundant wording, passive voice, bad POV, too many adverbs, not enough active verbs, not enough description, too much description, etc. All in notebooks or doc files. I’ve shared the (now out-dated) deep nests of my WIPs folders and the multiple, unfinished, unpolished pieces within them. Most will never be completed nor seen by the public. 

For instance, I've a random smut fic of a Highlander Warrior of Light and the popular antagonist of Shadowbringers. I'm not usually a villain liker, but one day it hit my brain, so I wrote it. I have notes and outlines for the rest of their story and how it plays out, though I'll probably never write more. I scratched the writing itch, stretched some skills, considered things from a different angle, and now it sits in drafts (I did post a couple decent-ish smut lines to my private Twitter once).

Mostly, it's practice. Even if it's junk and janky.

“But I have (professionally) published X or Y…”

Still gotta exercise the writing muscles! Still gotta scrawl off something utterly unusable now and again for the heck of it!

All those random lines, descriptions, scenes, rambles? Maybe I'll use them someday. I wrote them down to feel the pen in my hand or keys clacking under my fingers, to see the words pop onto the page or screen, to play with word choice, sentence structures, and “how would they say that?” For my own satisfaction, no one else’s.

When I get bored or stuck, or need a screenshot or writing prompt response, I might poke at those lines, pages, rambles, and see if they hit now or spin off to something else. They often don’t. But sometimes they help inform other things I do post to the public later. Even if that’s just a Question of the Day prompt response on Twitter.

(That also counts as writing and creating btw; you’re still coming up with something to share about your characters and I think that’s very creative of you.)

If the mood strikes, write. Even if it's just a vague idea--especially if it's any bits of dialogue or description, if it's something you think that you actually do want to write when off work or out of bed or whatever.

Even if you never post it anywhere public. Even if it never gets out of crummy first draft, unfinished pages form. It might feel like pulling teeth and look rough, especially if it’s been awhile.

But still write it. No one else has to know or see. Not until you want them to.

Maybe parts of it will inform something you do finish later. Maybe two years from now another prompt will hit just right and you’ll dig out that draft and finish it for posting. Maybe you’ll cannibalize aspects of it for an entirely different piece. Maybe you’ll even use it in a few more years to see how far you’ve come as a writer.

In many cases? That's how you actually keep writer's block away. Keeping ideas around to steal from yourself, letting yourself write nonsense, unpublishable bits and pieces, maybe even whole pages, just for the heck of it, if writing is something one enjoys and wants to stick with as a hobby (or professionally). If you don’t enjoy writing for fun? Don’t force it; do little character prompts and blurbs as they feel right, and find the ways to share creativity that work for you.

And seriously, don’t forget to take in new media, experiences, and information. This is How You Lose the Time War got me writing on an original story I shelved last autumn. The stories aren't at all alike! But seeing new words in new ways helped shake something loose in my brain. So try to make some time for that, too.

Write to yourself, not for others’ consumption. Public posting is great for validation and encouragement, for when we feel the urge to share due to pride or just wanting to gush about our faves. But also let yourself remember why you liked creating worlds, making up stuff about your characters, and writing at all to begin with, without the pressure of public posting. Give yourself some grace, and let it all be messy, unhinged, misspelled, ungrammatical, incomplete, and make no narrative sense.

Write to yourself, for yourself. Then let the rest follow.

[oswaldthatendswald]

For the fanfic writer emoji ask! (I'm sorry, I've been annoying the heck outta you 😭)

🥺

😈

⛔

💌

🦅

👀

🤩

💔

🥰

Never apologize!!!! I love answering asks! It's so fun. I will skip the first question, because somebody else asked it too and I answered it on that post.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Instead of answering, allow me to present a text I sent to my partner about a bit in chapter 2 of Cry Havoc:

(It's not gonna be in six chapters. I've reworked my outline since then and it'll probably be further). I do this a lot, actually. Add in little tiny details that are meant to be really mean but probably only on reread. Also I do love ending things on cliffhangers. I just love people's reactions.

I'll put the rest of the answers under the cut!

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Yes. Many. I start things all the time and then decide not to finish them, for whatever reason. Sometimes I lose interest, sometimes it's too personal, sometimes I get overwhelmed by the scope of a project. I had plans for a reincarnation AU with a younger, deaf Cora and I read about three separate books on deafness to research. Then I got so anxious about writing it well that I had to set it aside. I also plotted out a time travel Doflamingo fic that I just lost interest in (although I've actually used a lot of elements from that one. Maybe someday I'll post the first chapter of it that I wrote).

To clarify, I don't actually feel bad about this. All practice is good, and sometimes a story just isn't meant to be. Forcing myself to work on projects I'm just not feeling is the swiftest path to burnout.

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

I love them <3 I keep screenshots of some of my favourites. I'm not particularly interested in criticism, even the constructive sort, but I've received virtually none of that on my fics.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

I definitely outline, but I'm not married to the outline. The broad strokes of a story are pretty much settled by the time I start writing, but the details are in flux almost until a chapter is posted. I start with a very general overview of the story, and then I usually narrow down the details as I go. By the time I'm writing a chapter, I usually have the scenes for the next two or three planned out so that I can make sure the flow will work. It's a system that works pretty well with the serial nature of fanfic writing.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Hmmmm.... It often takes months for me to write a oneshot, so don't expect this any time soon, but I am working on a short fic about Dragon and Rocinante's past together (and how that influences Dragon's relationship with Sabo in the present).

I also have a short fic about Sanji, Zoro, and arachnophobia that is actually fully finished and edited, but I'm not sure if I want to post it yet. It's pretty personal, but also a little bit silly.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

You'd think it would be Cora, because he is my favourite and I love him, but actually it's Doflamingo! I love writing from his POV. His view of the world is just unbelievably fun to explore. He's so remarkably off-kilter that there's a lot I can do with his perspective.

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

Not sure if it counts, but while I was writing the bit about the first times Cora and Law saw someone die (from chapter 5 of No Other Life), I got so emotional I fully started crying. This was, crucially, half an hour before guests were going to start arriving for a family party.

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I love talking about my fics so much!!! I love questions and I love hearing from readers.

Thank you for the questions!!!

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

You have accomplished so much and written so many words and put out such a variety of fics for the fandom this year that YOU should do an end of year wrap up!

How many stories did you post?

Which ones were your favorites?

Which one was the most satisfying to write?

The most difficult?

Rec something that you're proud of.

Wow us with whatever big thing you might want to work on next!

Show us that word count stat!

You should be very, very proud of you. I certainly am <3

Ahhhhh FRIEND you are so nice to me! Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Any excuse to talk about my fics :)))))))))))))

1. How many stories did you post? I posted 38 stories!

2. Which ones were your favorites? That's like picking a favorite child! But if I haddddddd to: no thing's so sure that i can't learn to doubt it (aka Jamie is hurt during the Zava period and hides it. It does not go well), in the morning i'm bulletproof (Rupert has Jamie taken out BEFORE the final match of the season) and The Inevitability of James Tartt (Man City introspective).

3. Which one was the most satisfying to write? I don't know if it's one specific story. It was extremely satisfying to write some of the conversations between Jamie and the coaching staff in no thing's so sure that i can't learn to doubt it. And I have a few different post Mom City convos between Jamie and Ted that were satisfying. Mostly I love writing anything where people tell Jamie he's a good lad (after I put him through the ringer).

4. The most difficult? when i told you i was fine you were lied to. Someone requested some Roy whump, so I tried to give him an appendicitis. I had a longer version, but then I was driving home from another state on Friday the 13th, and my brain latched onto the idea of writing something spooky, so I kind of combined that and the comfort at the end got changed. The final product is kind of all over the place. I'm not happy with the ultimate story, but I got caught up with posting each day with whumptober, and it being Friday the 13th. I just ran out of time. I also blame the fact that I was on day 2 of one of my top 5 worst hangovers, stressed about finishing whumptober and knew I had plans or work literally every day the rest of the month. Maybe someday I’ll rewrite it when I can give it my full attention.

5. Rec something that you're proud of. I'm proud of all the fics I managed for whumptober (24!). Even though I'm still working on the final two days, I'll have done at least a chapter for each prompt once I’m finished.

6. Wow us with whatever big thing you might want to work on next! I do have a bad things happen bingo board that I want to work on, plus all the WIPs I have filling my Google Docs folder.

7. Show us that word count stat! My word count is 275,415 (I delayed answering these until I posted two new chapters of not to me, not if it's you haha)! BUT, my third fic is an extended, canon-compliant version of my first fic. The first one was 22K words, so a lot of those were adjusted slightly for the third fic, so really, it's more like 253K.

AND because this was so fun! I think it should be a tag game. So I'm tagging you @jamiesfootball to answer the same questions, as well as @sighonaraa and @fanficfanattic and anyone else that wants to play but as usual zero pressure <3

[priestessamy]

Hii Amy hope you are well!

I wanted to ask you, since you're a friend and a writer, how do I get back into Writing? It's been so long since I last wrote anything.

Also love your current series xoxo

Hello!

So I will say that I'm actually kinda in that position right now. Back in like November-ish I finally got hit by that really nasty Adderall shortage and for about seven months I was without the medication that gave me the extra push I needed to get two books published. I was also getting more hours at work that was leaving me exhausted and napping a lot. It was a mess.

And now I'm back to it and struggling to remember how I made it happen in the first place. So join me on my journey!

As always, I think my very first piece of advice has been "do it anyway," strong words that I no longer remember where I first learned them. Even if it's just a few words or a sentence, even if you don't do any "writing" that day but you get down some good planning, it all counts.

It can be so easy to get into that Nanowrimo mindset and feel like your worth is dictated by your daily wordcount. That's garbage.

Write whatever you can. If staring at a word processor document does nothing for you, grab a notebook and a pen. Or open up Paint and start drawing silly doodles maybe? It all adds up eventually to whatever idea you're working on!

And if it's just not happening that day, well then it's not happening. And pushing yourself isn't going to do anything but accelerate the burnout. But in the interim, maybe watch a movie or tv show you've never seen before, or fire up a video game you left in the dust ages ago. Anything to stimulate your creativity while you're in your downtime.

One of my biggest struggles right now is...well I won't call it perfectionism exactly, but I find myself terrified to write anything at all sometimes because what if it turns out to be bad and I have to go back and delete it eventually anyway, or at least change it so radically that it feels like wasted time. But that's the thing, it's not wasted! It was still time spent flexing my creativity and making something, and maybe someday in the future it's an idea or a scene I can use somewhere else.

It's all about small acts and being realistic and seeing everything you do as additive.

Hope this all helps!

[omgkalyppso]

@sevarix-blogs tagged me for sharing some of a WIP ... and I'd said I'd share for someone else leaving an open tag for the Last Line of a WIP a few days ago and forgot. My WIPs are all a mess. Some are just dialogue, some are cut up scenes that still need to be reorganized. Still, I'll share from three WIPs here for fun.

I'll tag @boghermit, @bosspigeon, @lemonbronze, @bladesandstars and YOU.

Still working on the Astarion ate a bear conversation WIP:

Astarion had been hunting for some time, and he returned with the most graceless approach, tripping over a cauldron at Lae’zel’s tent with his arms stretched wide as if he’d been meaning to keep track of his steps. “Stay out of my things, darkling!” Lae’zel shouted, interrupting her conversation where Astarion might have otherwise been ignored. “With pleasure, gith,” Astarion said, laying one hand on his unbeating heart and stretching the other out overhead. “Alright, Astarion?” asked Shadowheart, eyebrows raised. “All the better,” Astarion’s words danced with the cadence of an elf who was far further into his cups than either Étoile or Shadowheart, “that you’re concerned for me, my sweet.” Shadowheart made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan as she objected. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m only worried that you’d return from your hunt with some contagion. These caves are riddled with stagnation and rot.” “Just like home,” Astarion exaggerated, arms spread wide again, hands flicked skyward. He quickly followed it up with a laugh that had the teensiest hiccough in it, lending to his inebriated air.

I started working on a WIP of Wyll writing poetry with Gale's encouragement for the prompt Modern AU for wyllweek but I psyched myself out so it is also still a WIP. Background Gale x my dragonborn Upton:

Wyll: [stating the obvious as Gale has a pen and notepad] Working on something? Gale: Mm. Well, just another gift for the dragon of my heart, as it were. There's few enough rhymes for bronze that I definitely need to pick up a pen when inspiration strikes. Wyll: How do you decide which gifts are worth giving? Gale: Now there's a telling anxiety if I ever heard one. If there's a possibility your audience is going to be disrespectful of the efforts you make, and your heart on your sleeve, Wyll Ravengard, then they don't deserve you. That said, poetry is as much about the audience and the medium as it is about the quality. I know that whatever I scribble down … Upton appreciates that I was thinking of them. The rest is imagined, I suppose I could talk to them about it — how I consider each syllable, and each revolving turn of phrase, with the hope that I can bring them new joy, that the maze around my heart, no more navigable by my manner of elocution, might be more manageable to them. They are celebrations of our bond, their love, their beauty, but they are also pleas of affection, calls to understanding, expressions of vulnerability. And those are harder to share when you put more of yourself in your writing, or when you can't trust those emotions to be well received — even when they are, the way people can misread intent or metaphor, or latch onto some throwaway sentiment you thought to include — it's hard, to write and to share, not even considering the technicalities and imagination of the hobby. Do you keep a journal? Wyll: No. I read and I can recite some poetry, but … I didn't— I didn't keep a journal while I was backpacking, though maybe I should have. I— I'm not thinking of writing for love, or to share with anyone. Maybe someday, but … The world has such vibrancy in it. I'm not a bard, but I'd think I prefer it through a poet's lens sometimes. Gale: As one should. There's a dreamer in all of us, and poetry has connected people to history, to culture, to themselves and to each other — since time immemorial. You needn't worry about sharing it with anyone, but those connections are always open to you. And it may be a tad hypocritical, having never shared my own work, but I'd love to read your poetry, if you're in need of an audience. Wyll: No, no, no. You don't get out of showing me yours by asking for mine. Not when you have the advantage of experience— Gale: Oooo. That may be the politest way I've been called old, but it still stings [holding his heart] right here. Upton: [sitting on the arm of Gale's chair] Wyll called you old? Gale: [standing so Upton can take up most of the chair's real estate] He said I had the benefit— Wyll: Advantage. Gale: [sitting in Upton's lap] The advantage of experience. Wyll: [in his own defense] In regards to poetry. Upton: [delighted, leaning around Gale so he almost falls over] Are you going to write inexperienced poetry, Wyll?

And I'll share a very little bit of my The Pale Elf vs Cazador fight rewrite WIP:

Astarion: You don't love anything. Cazador: Do you not know the meaning of the word sacrifice? One eats an apple and thinks nothing of it, a fruit made to be consumed. But what of eating a friend, a lover, a son. You were made to be sacrificed, but my love was no less true for my role in your extermination. Astarion: Fuck you. And fuck everything you ever did to me. Cazador: You are my spawn, you are my family, and you came home like a good little apple when it was time for harvest.

While it might just be bad and cheesy I like the idea of Cazador likening Astarion to being worth more to him than nothing only to immediately refute that in the next sentence from his mouth. He should have been a man of twisted love and contradictions imo, not blindly evil.