#in the way you're supposed to hate a villain.

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.

[impossibleprincess35]

Since you're an American, what are your thoughts on the comparisons of the Duchess and the Death Watch to the election? I read one of your stories and you compare them to alt-right politics in the U.S. Thx!

Heyoooooo, thanks for the ask! I'm going to go TL;DR, so please forgive me and feel free to wish you'd never asked. :)

So, I've never been a Trump voter. Never. It's been a major point of contention with close family and friends, and in the 8 years since his first campaign, it has been eye opening watching people blatantly fall for fascism in the guise of security and strength.

And so, during the pandemic, dealing with so much misinformation and seeing so many people subject others to danger to make a point about their "freedom," when I rewatched "The Clone Wars," the Mandalore storylines hit so much harder.

A lot of times, when people are hating on the Satine character and blaming her for Mandalore's fall, what I see is a lack of acknowledgement that Death Watch was so hell-bent on getting their way that they had to stage incidents to make her look weak and unfit as a ruler. They weren't starving. They weren't exiled from their system. They got a moon. They had political representation with a governor. They had resources. But instead of using everything at their disposal to do better and to evolve as a people, they used it to stage bombings, attacks, and incidents that only hurt their own people and undermined their own system.

But what Death Watch did so well was they spun a narrative that is so false that even FANS believe it.

Like, we're supposed to see that they're domestic terrorists.

But people are out here like, "Fuck Satine, she's the worst."

Oh, okay.

As an American, I've seen two viable, suitable female candidates who have lost to Donald Trump, a piece of shit grifter, a convicted felon, an impeached dirtbag of a human being, and BOTH of these women have lost.

The bar is so high for them, and it's so low for Trump.

And I see that with Satine Kryze and Pre Vizsla.

The damning theories about Satine committing genocide on her people and white-washing them of their history and culture are assumptions made from information given to us on the show by Almec, who turns out to be as corrupt as Pre Vizsla and Tal Merrik, and inferred from the animation choices made due to budget constraints; but those things are held over Satine's head and her reputation as though they are gospel. As though she herself confirmed them.

Meanwhile, Pre Vizsla is out here running an entire terrorist group that intends to destabilize Mandalore's peaceful government just to reassert themselves as strong warriors. He has shown us who he is. He shows us every time we see him on screen after his reveal as the leader of Death Watch. He commits himself to it. He has gaggles of lackeys behind him putting him up on a pedestal, enabling him.

But Satine's always the villain, and always to blame; nevermind the fact that she has proven herself to be a resilient leader who put her people above all else, including her own desires, and she fights to keep them out of the fray between the Republic and the Separatists. More than anything else, their stability and their independence is her top priority.

And I guess, for me, I see strength in Satine's diplomacy, strength in her kindness, strength in her restraint; so when I see people who only acknowledge strength in name calling, in divisiveness, in threats of violence, like Pre Vizsla and Death Watch, I'm instantly reminded of the crowd of American politics who believe that we must bully our way around the world.

The bar for women, especially women of color, is set so high that it's unattainable; but the bar for men is so low it's in hell.

And as an American who voted for Vice President Kamala Harris, and who was genuinely thrilled to imagine a Harris/Walz administration, I've found myself annoyed by the remarks about her that I've read. The claims that she's not tough. That she couldn't hold her own with a room of world leaders. Because I don't see that. And I'm heartbroken to see that the popular vote wanted brute force and displays of bully behavior instead of a steady, calm hand to bring us together as a nation.

Worst of all, I fear the very possible outcome that, much like Mandalore, Americans are sacrificing their liberties for what they believe is security (ie. the xenophobic hate and the border talking points, lower grocery prices, etc.), but like Ben Franklin said, they'll lose both and deserve neither.

And in Mandalore's case, the people were scammed into believing that Satine failed them, when really, the attack on Sundari was an inside job - and when the flames of fear were stoked, the people turned on Satine, on peace, for the safety they believed Death Watch was going to bring them.

And then their asses got glassed by the Empire.

I look at what's going on around me, and I'm disappointed because I'm a dumb optimistic bitch who believed Americans were better than this. And there's a lot of blame to go around, but the vibe is off and things do not feel right. My gut tells me that the game was rigged - that Madam VP Harris was meant to fail from the word go, because the right aligned themselves to win at all costs, even at the costs of their own nation.

But Jyn Erso said it best: Rebellions are built on hope.

So, hopefully we don't get glassed..?

Jesus, how do I even end this post?

I'm sorry. I know you're wishing you'd never asked. <3

[skullmoss]

cant wait to aim and shoot solas in the face as a dwarf

[hella1975]

I'm watching the hunger games with people who's opinions I don't agree with HELP they literally don't get the implications of children murdering eachother like I do

(hella I've been reminded of you all day lol this is my 2nd ask about my day kfmsks)

that's genuinely so sweet i dont think you realise how much i appreciate things like this

oh bleugh i hate it when people just dont get a piece of media and ur just kinda sat there trying not to rant like 'you're all missing the fucking POINT'

[meezer]

the sweat and the grime 😩... male sluts please do not bother me anymore I'm trying to live a peaceful life

[leatherbookmark]

i had op blocked so ray’s rebloggathon was tragically Absent from my dash but now that i caught up, *hyeju voice* el oh el

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[incorrectbatfam]

Jason is a hopeless romantic 100%

it just doesnt show

But everyone goes to him whn its time to plan dates

Dick: Hey, can I ask you something?

Jason, reading: No.

Dick: You see, Wally and I have our weekly date night coming up, but we've been to pretty much every place there is. You got any ideas for how to shake things up?

Jason: *scribbles coordinates and tosses him the Bat-plane keys*

[later]

Wally: Wow, I've never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Dick: I'm glad you like it.

Dick: *texts Jason a thumbs up*

Jason: *read at 8:55 PM*

———————

Tim: Jason, glad you're here! I totally forgot it's me and Bernard's six-month anniversary. Help me out, man.

Jason, clipping his toenails: Fine. You better write this down 'cause I'm only saying it once.

Tim: *nods*

Jason: Go to Home Depot. You're gonna need some rope, a tarp, hammer and nails, a hatchet, matches, and fuel. After that...

Tim: *furiously takes notes*

[later]

Bernard: A camping trip was a great idea. It's nice to get away from it all. And I can't believe you set this all up yourself.

Tim, chuckling nervously: What's a boyfriend for if not to build a tent and chop down a tree?

———————

Duke: So the school dance is coming up.

Jason, working: Theme?

Duke: Under the sea.

Jason: Ugh, how cliché. Anyway, Armand's Tailoring has a blue suit that'll match whatever your girlfriend's wearing. Tell him I sent you. After that, call Patricia's Bistro and make a reservation with the code word "surreptitious." Alfred can take you in the limo if you give him a 24-hour heads-up to clean it. Once you're there, remind the DJ he owes me a favor to get your song requests bumped up. And remember, a slow dance is basically moving your feet in a square but otherwise go with the flow.

Duke: Sweet, thanks!

———————

Cass: Steph is sad.

Jason, cooking: *sighs*

Jason: *takes out a tub of ice cream*

Jason: *scoops a hole in the middle*

Jason: *fills it with candy*

Jason: Here.

Cass: Thanks!

———————

*phone rings*

Jason, waking up from a nap: What?

Kory: Sorry if I woke you. Barbara's coming over for breakfast in half an hour but I burned it with my powers. It was supposed to be eggs benedict.

Jason: Order takeout and put it on fancy plates.

Kory: You're a lifesaver—

Jason: *already hung up and went back to sleep*

———————

Kate: It's Renee's birthday tomorrow. I have a gift, but I'm not sure if it's good enough.

Jason, polishing his gun: If it's from you, it will be.

———————

Bruce: *walks in*

Bruce: Hey, son. Selina's not talking to me after our argument. How do I tell her how much she means to me?

Jason, reciting Shakespeare: I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, "I love you."

Bruce: You're right. I'm just gonna tell it to her straight. Thank you.

Bruce: *leaves*

Jason: *takes off his headphones and turns around*

Jason: Did someone say something?

———————

Damian: Todd, what is love supposed to feel like?

Jason: Why do you want to know?

Damian: None of your concern. Now tell me.

Jason: *shoots a training dummy*

Jason: It's when they're lodged in your head like a bullet. Except without the excruciating pain and messy red stuff.

Damian, nodding: Tell me more.

———————

Roy: *takes down a villain*

Jason, sitting on a roof: *wolf whistles*

Roy: The hell?

Jason: I know hot when I see it.

Roy: What are you doing here?

Jason: I brought Arrowdogs.

Roy: You hate Arrowdogs.

Jason: But you don't.

Roy: Aw, how sweet—EYES UP HERE, TODD!

[fellthemarvelous]

Jedi and attachment

The Jedi Order was around 25,000 years old when it fell at the end of the Clone Wars.

And I've seen people say "the Jedi don't teach emotional regulation" I guess because there are some Jedi who fell, but like, the number of Jedi who didn't fall far outweighs the number of Jedi who did fall.

And that's not to say that Jedi never made mistakes, but none of them gave into their anger and fear and hatred. Mistakes are normal, even for Jedi. Failure is the greatest teacher. They were apparently able to regulate their emotions well enough to actually learn from their mistakes and grow.

I'm not sure which part of "the life of a Jedi is not easy" isn't exactly translating well for some people.

What do people think Qui-Gon meant when he told Anakin being a Jedi would be challenging?

As Yoda said, it is a lifelong struggle not to allow fear to bend into anger. Fear leads to anger leads to hate leads to suffering. The Jedi never stop learning.

The reason they avoid attachments is because attachments distract them from the bigger picture, from their purpose. They are protectors and defenders of life, and they cannot be picky about who they choose to help, regardless of personal feelings.

As Obi-Wan has said, Jedi do not hold grudges. They cannot. They can be upset, yes, but they are given the tools to handle their emotions and often utilize them.

Anakin damned an entire galaxy when he fell to the dark side. The Jedi are not to blame for Anakin's fall. Anakin made his choice, and while he spent thirteen years being groomed by Palpatine, he made the choice to follow Darth Sidious.

ANAKIN FELL BECAUSE OF THE CHOICES HE MADE.

He is the one who slaughtered Jedi younglings. He's the one who slaughtered the Separatist leaders, and even though they were the enemy, they were defenseless and trapped in a room with the most powerful being in the galaxy after being sent there by Sidious and Grievous.

The reason the Jedi were so hesitant to accept him into the Jedi Order was because of his age. He was attached to his mother and his anger over her death is what caused him to slaughter an entire colony of Tusken Raiders. He didn't do it out of love. He did it out of hatred, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

It is not the fault of the Jedi that Anakin could not properly regulate his own emotions. He lied to the Jedi for three years. He hid his relationship with Padme, so how was Yoda supposed to know how to help him properly when he didn't have the full context? Of course his advice seemed bad because Anakin was not being forthcoming about the nature of his relationship with Padme. Yoda did not have a complete picture of Anakin's anxieties at the time, and while you can teach someone how to do something, you cannot control how they put the teachings into practice. You can only hope and trust that they are doing the right thing.

And the thing is, the Jedi would have helped Anakin and Padme. Yoda and Obi-Wan loved Anakin. We saw several instances of just how much Yoda cared about Anakin, especially so at the end of season six of the Clone Wars.

Anakin betrayed the entire Jedi Order because he allowed his fears to consume him. He participated in the genocide of the order he had been part of for thirteen years just to save the life of ONE PERSON who ended up dying anyway BECAUSE of him.

No one has ever said the Jedi Order is perfect because there is no such thing as perfect, but they were not ever the villains. They were never the bad guys. They were pulled into a war orchestrated by Darth Sidious who weaponized the compassion of the Jedi as a way to destroy the order.

When you look at the handful of Jedi who fell and claim that the Jedi "don't teach emotional regulation" you're just erasing all personal accountability from the fallen Jedi WHO MADE THEIR CHOICES.

There is only ONE Jedi (that I am aware of) who fell to the dark side involuntarily, and that was Ahsoka Tano. She was corrupted against her will and then killed. Anakin was able to resurrect her, and while he did a good thing, it only made his fear of losing her again even worse.

Maul murdered Satine and forced Obi-Wan to watch, but Obi-Wan managed to control his emotions and not go on a killing spree. He actually held a dying Maul in his arms. Ahsoka was failed by the Jedi Order, but she didn't fall to the dark side. Yoda lived for 900 years and never once fell to the dark side.

There are a variety of factors that went into Anakin's fall, but he is the one who made the choice to do the monstrous things he did. He was not being mind controlled. He had Jedi training, but he threw all of that away for one person. He gambled the fate of the galaxy on the belief that Palpatine would help him save Padme from dying, knowing that Palpatine was a Sith Lord and knowing that he was the one who was actually responsible for the war. He made a selfish choice at the expense of everyone else in the galaxy and the only person who won in the end was Darth Sidious. It was the biggest lesson that Anakin ever learned.

This is not a failure of "teaching emotional regulation". This is the failure of someone who allowed his personal feelings to overshadow his Jedi training, and he is responsible for the consequences of his own actions.

End note: This is not an Anakin Skywalker bashing post. I love Anakin Skywalker, but he absolutely is to blame for his fall to the dark side. He's a fascinating character. I could write a whole ass separate post on why I love him so much. Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader is an icon.

[lowkeyrobin]

Miguel x reader but reader is just absolutely in love with Miguel but Miguel has eyes for sam and reader tries to be supportive be can't so they distance themself away from Miguel😁

- ♠️

dude I swear we're gonna brawl and I'm gonna make the guy ur talking too watch as I win. I'm so srs rn I'm gonna tell meemaw (I lit don't even know them all that well but idc) ; anyways thanks I guess 😒 /sarc ; but I went a little off the rails w this one cause why not

MIGUEL DIAZ ; casual

summary ; you have eyes for miguel while he slowly distances himself to be with sam, and you accept your fate

warnings ; language, physical fighting / a punch thrown

disclaimers ; miguel is a whole fucking villain, kinda off to canon timeline cause I'm rewatching atm and it's hard to keep 5 seasons straight in the brain, fun hawk tory and demetri content cause they'd be so cool together

track ; casual, chappell roan

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

You thought that maybe after all these months being with Miguel meant that you were together. Apparently not.

After two weeks of dating, his mom invited you over for dinner.

You gave him everything.

You did everything for him, you owed him everything, you could only thank him for being alive now.

After all the passionate making out, the special dates, the first time experiences, after everything, he said that. He said that there were no attachments. Every time you kissed, you gained anger issues, knowing his lips were probably on another's at some point between the last and now.

He made out with you after pressing you against the wall while his family sat at the dinner table down the hall.

But no, it was just casual.

You knew he just told his friends that it was just casual.

You loved being dumb about it for a while, at least while you thought it was real. After graduation, you'd have an apartment, and he'd show you off to his friends at the pier.

You noticed his unfocused gaze upon you. You noticed how he looked more interested in Sam LaRusso, again, for that matter.

You were just a rebound, apparently.

But apparently, it was just casual when he made out with you in the locker room just before the All Valley tournament. Yeah, it was just casual when you were on the phone trying to convince him not to run away to go find his dad, yet he went anyways.

You made out with him when you went to dinner, his mom and Johnny at the table.

Yet once he knew that you knew that he was into Sam again, he wondered why you were bitter. He bragged to his friends about how much he loved your lips, how much he wanted you and how amazing you were.

You hated how you allowed it to drag on, how you let it break you as much as it possibly could before you just gave the fuck up.

You hated yourself.

You hated yourself for allowing it to happen. You hated yourself for letting him think it was just casual. You hated yourself for not fucking killing him once you caught him in the act.

But no, you had to be the chill person who would just shrug it off.

At least some of your mutual friends were on your side after you texted them about it. Demetri, Tory, and Hawk the most, slightly surprisingly on Hawk's part.

The trio immediately rushed to your house, knowing you needed someone to lean on. For fuck's sake, you just saw your supposed boyfriend making out with his ex in a rollerrink.

The (kind of unlikely) trio, during a grace period between Eagle Fang slash Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do, had to team up just this once for their favorite, non-Miguel friend. They were all shocked and disgusted by Miguel's actions, though kind of expecting it.

He was infamous for his love triangles, apparently.

Tory holds you in her arms, allowing your vulnerability to show through while Demetri talks, hoping his rambles would ease your pain. Hawk is downstairs, making you some mac and cheese since you hadn't eaten dinner.

"Fuck him," Tory smiles, cutting of Demetri's nonsense ramble. "You're better than him, in many ways, actually. But, he lost you, that's his problem. You're free, Y/n. It wasn't just casual, I don't know why he's lying to himself, but he and Sam can go suck it. He clearly doesn't deserve you. You're way out of his league anyway"

You look up at her, a smile painting your face before you hug her. "Thanks, Tory"

Demetri awkwardly sits on the foot of your bed, unknowing of what to say or do. Tory gives him a look, considering you'd need feedback from both male and female friends of yours slash Miguel's. Her current state of mind was just showing you that there were apparently sides and they were on yours.

Demetri nods, quickly getting the message. "Yeah, he doesn't deserve you. You should like, get him back or something. Or at least yell at him, or something. I mean, getting back with your ex while trying to tell your current partner it's just casual? He fumbled"

You giggle, wiping your tears away. "Thanks, dude."

A light knock is heard at the door before it's opened, revealing Hawk with a tray carrying four bowls of mac and cheese, forks stuck in each of them. In his pockets are water bottles, two shoved in each one. The purple haired boy lightly sets the food down on your dresser, handing a bowl to each of you, then tossing you a bottle of water.

You all eat in silence, you trying to gather your thoughts while the others attempt to even wrap their minds around what you were going through after what Miguel did. In the background, on Demetri's phone, The Umbrella Academy plays, his phone perched against a few pillows on the bed where you were all huddled together.

Hawk and Tory share a look before turning back to the screen, enjoying the calm quiet that basked over them.

"what do you mean, why am i bitter???"

"youre being weird about this, we were never anything. you were basically a rebound. get over it omfg"

The three look up from your phone then at you, astonished looks painting their expressions. Their eyebrows are furrowed, their eyes widened.

"What the fuck?" Tory asks, "You weren't lying about that, were you?"

You shake your head. "Literally, what does he want from me? Of course I'm mad, he basically lead me on and won't explain why he was making out with his ex, then bragging to his friends about "oh we're casual"

Demetri bites his lower lip, trying not to laugh, considering it was a nervous tic of his. He shares an eyebrow jump with Hawk before listening in again. Hawk quickly grabs your phone from your hands unexpectedly.

"Dude-"

"What're you doing?"

"Calling him"

"What?!"

"Why?"

"I'm not talking to him-"

The dial tone makes your skin crawl as you hear it.

"Just let it out," Hawk shrugs, handing you the phone.

"Feel like I'd rather do this in real life, Moskowitz."

You feel an absolute weight fall from your shoulders as it moves to the voicemail, seeing as Miguel declined the call himself. You sigh out of relief, quickly shutting your phone off.

You glare at Hawk.

"Would you rather do it face to face? I can tell him to meet me somewhere and we'll jump him or something" He shrugs.

"Violence isn't gonna help anything," Tory declines. "We'll get him to go somewhere quiet yet busy. That way, you can expose him or something. Mental violence is better than physical"

"Says the champion of the All Valley girl's team"

"I'm tempted to paralyze him again."

The three friends share half fearful looks, knowing you didn't joke lightly in times like this. They lay their eyes upon Sam and Miguel again, holding hands as they walk through the hallway.

You bite your tongue, trying to hold back yelling profanities as they walk past you. You lean against the red lockers where Demetri fishes out a few textbooks from his. Tory stands by you while Hawk leans against them as well, arms crossed.

"What if we tell people there's a fight, you expose him, since you got receipts, and you beat him up?" Hawk suggests, throwing his idea out there.

You shrug. "I think he could beat my ass. That'd be embarrassing"

He shrugs in return. "Eh. He hasn't been practicing recently. He's probably a little rusty. Like, he hasn't been showing up to class for days"

Tory and Demetri nod to confirm Hawk's statement. You shrug again.

"M'kay"

"You wanna get suspended over this?" Demetri asks, closing his locker.

"First offense," you reply with an informative tone.

"Oh, I'm crazy because I thought you gave a shit about me? Please, inform me what casual is to you"

"Something not serious."

"But that's why we went out on dates, and why I did everything you asked of me?"

"You didn't have too"

"So?"

"So what?"

"So you're a bitch"

You quickly pull your clenched fist back, then push forward to hit Miguel straight in the face. He quickly gasps, along with the bystanders, holding a hand to his now bleeding nose.

"What the hell?"

Tory and Hawk goofily grin while Demetri lightly smiles, proud of you for sticking to your word.

"Too-da-loo, mister casual." You spin on your heel, walking back to your three friends.

They wrap you into side hugs, pulling you away from the shocked boy who'd essentially played you. Bystanders laugh at him and gawk at you, snapping pictures, sending videos across the school.

A happy little smile remains on your face as you're sent home for the rest of the week.

[dedalvs]

Translation request: "I hate the ocean, all my enemies are across it" in Zhyler. Like the meme of the cat saying "I hate my puter, all my enemies are inside it"

You're really going to make me pull out not just one of my old languages, but my language that had 57 "cases", and then make me translate something that specifically uses a meaning I don't have a case for? And also requires a verb I don't have? (Everyone knows Zhyler has the verb astal which means "to love and hate" but no verb for "to hate".) Have I been made the object of a troll?

You better actually want this. This better be a damn tattoo.

First, you I had to, of course, create a word for "to hate", which meant having to relearn my stupid alphabetization system, since I alphabetized by the Zhyler orthography, not the romanization. Rather than go with something I felt in my bones I went with something that I knew I could alphabetize correctly, so zirel is the word for "to hate". I think it works, because I hate it.

So zir is "hate". Might as well add a -jÿr on the end to make it intensive (ÿ is [ɯ]). A first person subject makes that zirjÿrum, which, good gravy, if you know that this language is supposed to be a vowel harmony language and that is the result… What a disaster.

Now we need the ocean. Also, how dare you make me translate this. I LOVE the ocean! It's one of my most favorite things in the entire world! You miscreant! You villain! But that comes later.

There are two words for "ocean". One is ishþe which is just a place of water, but it seems like the word needed is naredðe, which is the great blue-green, the gathering of all waters.

The whole sentence, then, is Naredðer zirjÿrum. Now for the other.

The word for "enemy" is vedga. The word for "all" is las. Both of them will need to be plural, but, mercifully, nominative, so I don't have to remember what the adjectival cases are. Thus "all enemies is " laslar vedgalar. Then "my" is laslar vedgalarum. That's "all my enemies".

In locational phrases no verb is needed, which is nice. There isn't a single third person pronoun. Instead, the source of the noun class suffix is used as a third person pronoun. For Class XI (the class of naredðe), the pronoun is ða.

Now for the case, you are correct: I did not specifically create a case for "across" in this sense (the "beyond" sense). The one I would probably uses is the postessive case, which I think is supposed to mean "behind". In other words, all your enemies are behind the ocean. I believe the form is ðamej. And so, the full translation is:

Naredðer zirjÿrum. Laslar vedgalarum ðamej.

But didn't you mean "all my friends"...? Seems like the ocean is keeping your enemies away so you should be grateful for it. If you wanted to do that it'd be:

Naredðer zirjÿrum. Laslar širkÿlarum ðamej.

Either way, here's what it would look like in the orthography, which was redesigned by my cousin Claire Ng. My original font was garbage. This one is lovely. I had originally planned to redesign Zhyler and use it for the board game I'm creating (Sovála) featuring kingdoms of darling little animals battling each other. It was going to be the language for the cats. In fact, though, redesigning Zhyler is what led me to decide to create new languages. I got to the noun classes and realized the first one was for humans, and then there were several others for different sizes of animals, and this just didn't make sense at all for anthropomorphic cats in a world without humans. Thus, indirectly, it led to the creation of LangTime Studio (streaming in half an hour!).

All right, here you go. All my enemies:

And all my friends:

Now I banish you!

[neerons]

Some of Gilbert von Obsidian's best quotes

[Warning: Heavy spoilers about Gilbert's route]

"Ahaha, what is the prince of Obsidian, if not rotten?"

"I hate people."

"No matter how hard I try not to, I can't help but be gentle with her. What kind of villain am I?" (—Gilbert talking about Emma to himself)

"(...) I hope you don't accidentally end up calling me 'big bro' or anything." (—Gilbert to Leon)

"(...) You were just saying what you really think. I don't think doing that is rude. And it's true I'm someone scary."

"I like you because you're so warm, little rabbit."

"Ahaha! You're so sassy. But I like that about you."

"I want to make things awkward for you."

"You can't just focus on the best of someone while ignoring the worst of them."

"If you were a bother, I'd kill you, so don't worry." *smile intensifies*

"...I'm no match for that pure, innocent gaze of yours. You're the only one capable of pushing me around, you know."

"Depending on what you say next, I might just take your head clean off." (—Angry Gilbert to Emma)

"(...) You nearly died. ...Do you have any idea how much that chilled me to the core?"

"The only thing I can ever be for you is a villain. ...Unfortunately."

"...Thank you. I almost got murdered by some dust."

"If you keep on lying over and over about being fine, I might just... Well, you can guess, right?"

"I found it in a book in the little rabbit's room. They need to understand what happens to them if they try to interfere with what's mine... Don't they?" (—Gilbert talking about a poisoned needle targeting Emma to Roderic)

"You said it, remember? You said you wanted me to learn to love Rhodolite. To me, you are Rhodolite."

"Those born with status have the right to do whatever they like to those who are lesser than them. That's what you want to say, isn't it? (...) Hmm? What's that? You look a little distressed for some reason. But I suppose that's no surprise. You see, I have the right to tyrannize you however I please, just as you tyrannized those children who had no one to protect them. I'm imperial royalty, and you're just a third-rate aristocrat. So I'm going to have to teach you just how different our social positions are... Aren't I? (...) Aren't you lucky that we're in Rhodolite? You've narrowly escaped death. If this was Obsidian, you'd be dead for sure. After all, we have no need for disgusting nobles who defile the purity of children." (—Gilbert to a Baron of Rhodolite)

"Wait, so you're telling me you baked cookies for another man, even though I'm right here. Ouch, that hurts."

"(...) if by chance I run into your dear papa, he'll kill me." (—Gilbert talking about Akatsuki)

"Welcome to Obsidian. (...) I introduced myself as Gilbert von Obsidian, didn't I? There's only one person in this country allowed to use the Obsidian name. And that's the emperor."

"There's nothing about you or me that makes one of us intrinsically inferior or superior to the other. Humans are all basically the same. And naturally, from a societal perspective, we probably need people who can take the lead. People who are capable, and talented, who can bring others together, and build a better tomorrow. That's a healthy way to be. I'm the ruler of a country that knows deception and decay all too well, so I understand better than most. That's why my ideal, my ambition, is to conquer all the royalty that have infested this whole continent, and free the people who are under their control."

"I wrote that story based on you. (...) Akatsuki told me a lot of stories about you, and they were always stories about you showing love and affection for others. He made it sound like you believed that the true nature of people is love, and that the happiness of others was what made you the happiest. The idea of living like that was repulsive to me, but at the same time, it made me curious. I got to wondering what sort of choices you'd make, if you were in the same position I was."

"You were bullying small children to amuse yourselves. That Rhodolitian might have stopped at just punching you, but I'm not that kind. Did I make military regulations or didn't I? And do those regulations say attacking non-combattants is forbidden, or don't they?" (—Gilbert to Obsidianite soldiers)

"Then how about you call me papa?" (—Gilbert to Luke)

"...Don't go. (...) I don't know... if I can hold on... until you get back. Being on my own... is lonely..."

"...You're the only one I'll ever love."

"I'm taking your daughter." *smile intensifies* (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"I'm not oppressing you with my power, it's just my love for you, overflowing."

"You can't do things like this with other men... Unless you want to see dead bodies."

"You're liked by everybody. A lot of the princes helped you out today. That's because people adore you, and they naturally want to help you out. They're all beasts with strong characters, but you're important to all of them. Do you know how rare that is? That means you're charming to everyone you meet. ...Including me, of course."

"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me."

"I can't just bare my body for free."

"I've never liked seeing you clothe your body in things that other people have put their hands all over."

"Don't force yourself to talk. I'm not so narrow-minded that I'll go around saying you're disrespectful just because you didn't thank me. You're sick; you're supposed to just drink medicine and sleep."

"Wah, boohoo. I can't believe we were on different pages this whole time. I've given you my entire heart, and yet, look at what you've done with it! (...) Waaah, I'm so heartbroken that the only thing that could bury my sadness is world domination!"

"For his sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear him call me 'eyepatch bastard'. Rude." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Silvio)

"Her ability to right what was wrong, purify what was once sullied... It runs at complete odds with my nature. I may have truly met my match." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I blinked a few times as my vision seemed to expand all at once... and the little rabbit become clearer and even more beautiful." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I'm never letting you go. If you run away from me, I'll conquer the whole world and follow you to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. No wait... I just need to control your heart, so that you'll never even want to leave me." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"We all approach life differently. Chevalier slices hearts in two. I trample on them. But, you... You respect them."

"I wanted to see you bawling your eyes out."

"You're... the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"I like the little rabbit very much, you see. So I certainly hope that bold declaration of yours doesn't end up turning into a lie." (—Gilbert to Silvio, in Silvio's route)

"I'm not interested in the average woman. There's someone that caught my eye when I was young." (—Gilbert talking to Silvio, Rio, Keith, Sariel and Emma)

"You like these stories, don't you? Ones where a lowly village girl falls in love with a big, bad emperor and makes him change his ways—"

"It's a good thing I was born with a pretty face. If I looked scary without even trying, it would almost be TOO perfect."

"Keith, if you get tired, we can swap places. (...) Shame, Daddy says we can't." (—Gilbert talking about carrying Emma instead of Keith, but is stopped by Sariel)

"I was able to find some... treasure too, so I'm very satisfied with today." (—Gilbert most probably talking about Emma to the other princes and Emma)

"What? You'd like some new heads to decorate the castle's gates?" (—Gilbert to Emma telling him she wants friends)

"After a while of being betrayed over and over again, you start thinking to yourself. That maybe the world would be a better place if everyone who wasn't your friend just dropped dead."

"I know her. But only in fantasy. Because there's no way an Obsidianite royalty can have anything to do with a mere bookstore worker. (...) Die without meeting her? Or die after meeting her. Well, that's easy. I prefer the latter in that case." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)

"I tried to hold down my excitement as I knocked softly on the door. (...) The door opened softly, revealing a woman that was different from what I had imagined. Strange. I thought she'd be more childish looking based on his stories. Her eyes that looked directly at me were clear and devoid of any baseless optimism. She was clearly a woman, not a child. I smiled to carefully hide my surprise. (...) She's purer and prettier than I imagined." (—Gilbert's thoughts about meeting Emma for the very first time)

"Oh, I get it. You think I was with another woman, don't you? Ahaha, you get jealous so easily. But don't worry, I only see you.If it would make you feel better though, I could always kill each and every single woman that gets close to me."

"...And so we've decided to officially hold our wedding ceremony. Can we count on your blessing, papa?" (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)

"You're much more important to me than family, you know. (...) After all, you're still alive, aren't you? I wouldn't kill you no matter what you did."

"I really do love you. And it's because I love you that I want to look good in front of you, and hide the things that I don't want you to see." (—Gilbert talking about his health condition to Emma)

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to officially bind you to me?" (—Gilbert's thoughts)

"Oh, that hurts... I just wanted to shower my beloved fiancee with my love, but I guess you don't want to... I'm absolutely heartbroken now. I might just have to go out and conquer one of the neighboring countries just to soothe myself."

"You're my type of lady. Do you know why? (...) I, for one, enjoy the rebellious, sassy look you always have in your eyes. I feel this strong will— that you will never bow down to me. That even though you're terrified, you won't run away."

[ctheathy]

The Claim of an Operational Sin

Claude Frollo x Reader

Suggestive Oneshot

Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah

Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)

You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.

Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-

I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.

And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.

Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked

“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.

“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.

The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.

“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped

“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”

You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”

You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...

And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.

And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.

Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...

“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.

It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.

And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.

This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.

“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.

And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”

His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.

Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.

But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.

As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.

And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.

The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.

The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.

“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.

This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.

“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control

His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.

His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.

He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.

He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....

You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.

He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.

You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.

Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.

You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.

There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.

“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”

And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.

[iwonderwh0]

If you're in a fandom, whatever it is, for the love of whatever you believe in, just be fucking nice to people. It takes only one spiteful interaction to feel like shit for days and also to turn one thing that you like into some unpleasant reminder that someone out there hates you just because you like it in a different way.

Just a reminder that we're all just actual living people with actual lives behind those ambiguous tumblr blogs and there's no need to villainize eachother because of some stupid bullshit that was never supposed to be anything but a way to find enjoyment in a harmless fantasy or/and share it with others that may also like something about it.

It's about liking things, not hating on people for having different preferences/beliefs.

Thank you.

[solxamber]

Project Love - Rollo Flamme x reader

When your eccentric professor pairs you and Rollo up for a study on attachment types, you didn't realise how much it would change your lives.

Rollo Week Day 1! (also Rollo anon I hope you're seeing this).

It was just supposed to be an easy, laid-back semester. But no, the universe decided to throw you into the one psychology class known for ruining lives—and not even in the fun, dramatic, reality-show way. No, this was the kind of class where you could leave the semester with a full-blown existential crisis.

You didn’t even like psychology, but here you were, forced to take this professor’s class because all the others were full. To make matters worse, this wasn’t just any class; it was the dreaded experimental psychology class. The one where the professor was famous—not for his teaching, but for ruining lives in the name of academic study.

The rumor mill had been vicious: forget about traditional exams or group projects; no, this professor made people participate in wildly invasive experiments to "explore the human mind." And by "explore," it meant pushing boundaries until they snapped. You'd heard stories of students breaking up with their partners, dropping out, or crying in public. So, naturally, this was the class you got stuck in.

You thought they were joking, but the moment you walked into the room, saw the professor standing there with his glasses reflecting the overhead lights like some kind of horror movie villain, you knew. This wasn’t going to be good.

You look around the room, praying that maybe you could sit somewhere inconspicuous, keep your head down, and survive. But of course, the only seat open was next to that guy. The one who looked like he’d rather burn the entire campus down than breathe the same air as everyone else.

Oh no.

Rollo Flamme.

Your brief interaction with him was limited to vague campus rumors, but the gist was that he hated everything and everyone. He probably had a master plan to rid the world of all things fun—carnivals, birthday parties, and smiles. Which was ironic because the moment you locked eyes with him, all your social anxiety kicked in, and you smiled automatically. Like a reflex.

For a moment, Rollo froze. And then, something strange happened: instead of the scowl you expected, his expression softened, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t smile back, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, like your smile had thrown off his whole mood. In fact, as you sat down next to him, you noticed that he kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, like he didn’t know what to do with the fact that you smiled at him.

That smile, as far as he was concerned, was the cutest thing he’d seen all year. He wasn’t about to say that out loud, of course, but the thought definitely lingered.

You blinked at him, expecting some kind of verbal response, but before the moment could get any weirder, the professor clapped his hands, demanding everyone’s attention. You flinched, and so did Rollo. Not a great start.

“Welcome, students!” the professor announced with far too much enthusiasm for someone about to ruin lives. “This semester, we’re going to be conducting real-world psychological experiments again!”

You and Rollo exchanged a look—his full of concern, yours full of dread.

“And our first project,” the professor continued, “is an experiment to see how different attachment styles interact in relationships! You will be paired based on your attachment style, and for the next few months, you’ll be living together, learning to navigate these dynamics firsthand!”

What.

Living. Together?!

You wanted to raise your hand and ask if this was some kind of joke, but the professor’s manic grin told you he was dead serious.

He handed out some papers, one of which was an attachment style quiz. You skimmed through the questions, trying to focus, but your brain was already spiraling. Living with a stranger? No way. Not happening. Maybe you could drop out before the end of the class?

You finished the quiz, hoping against hope that this was just an exercise and not a real commitment. But then the professor came back, holding a clipboard with everyone’s results.

“Ah! You’re a secure type. Congratulations, that’s the healthiest attachment style.” He beamed at you like you’d won a medal. “And Rollo…” The professor glanced down, “You’re anxious-preoccupied. Interesting!”

You glanced at Rollo, who was currently gripping the sides of his desk like it was the only thing keeping him from a full-on nervous breakdown. Great.

The professor’s grin widened. “Well, this is perfect. You two will be paired together for this experiment. I’m sure this will be a very educational experience!”

You wanted to protest, but the professor moved on, pairing up the other students. You felt like the ground had just opened up beneath you. Live together? With Rollo Flamme? For a whole semester? How were you going to survive this?

By the end of class, it was official. You had to relocate to a new dorm today. It was like some twisted version of “new roommate bonding,” except instead of awkwardly sharing a bathroom schedule, you were forced to bond over psychological trauma.

The move itself was a nightmare. You were dragging your bags down the hall, trying not to collapse from the weight (both literal and emotional). By the time you finally managed to get all your stuff into the new dorm, you felt like throwing yourself off the nearest cliff. Or at least dropping out of school. Either would be fine.

You flopped onto your bed, groaning. “I swear, if I survive this, I’m never taking another psych class again,” you muttered to yourself. You were two seconds away from reconsidering all your life choices when Rollo appeared at the doorway, looking perfectly fine, not a hair out of place, and holding… pasta?

"I... thought it would be good to have something ready," he said, looking anywhere but directly at you. "Since we’re... apparently in a relationship. For the semester."

You blinked, completely stunned. After everything that happened today, you had not expected this. But you weren’t about to complain. In fact, you could feel a huge wave of relief wash over you. If you had to be stuck in this bizarre experiment, at least it was with someone who had a functioning kitchen and the decency to make dinner.

"I have never been more grateful for a pasta dish in my entire life," you said, dropping into the nearest chair. "I’m so happy you’re the one I got paired with, Rollo."

Rollo looked pleased, though he kept his expression neutral. He quickly sat down beside you, mumbling something about “it’s just dinner.” But you could tell he was trying.

As you sat there, eating the surprisingly delicious food Rollo made, you realized that maybe this semester wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. Or maybe you were just delirious from exhaustion.

Either way, at least you weren’t going to starve to death while this crazy project unfolded.

The first week of living together, and you're hit with a revelation: How the hell is this guy the one with his life together? Rollo Flamme, the same dude who almost gave you a whole monologue about chaos and anarchy the first time you smiled at him, is actually the most functional human being you've ever encountered.

His laundry’s always done, his side of the room is spotless, and somehow, he manages to work on his research without looking like he’s two seconds away from a nervous breakdown (unlike you, whose fourth cup of coffee is practically a security blanket at this point).

And here you are, the so-called "secure" attachment type, flailing around like you're barely hanging on to life. How was he not the secure one? This was messed up.

To make matters worse, Rollo is also incredibly polite. Always holding doors open, saying "thank you" after even the tiniest favor, and offering you a perfectly folded blanket when you passed out on the couch mid-cram session. He'd be the perfect roommate—if you were running a bed-and-breakfast. But for a relationship? Oh, no. This man had walls built so high around him, you’d need a rescue helicopter to even get near his emotions.

You weren’t about to let this continue, though. You had time. You were persistent. You’d break through that fortress if it killed you.

One day, you sat next to him in the living room, where he was working on his latest research paper. Curiosity got the better of you, and you peeked over at his screen. Magic, naturally. Specifically, how magic is dangerous and needs to be controlled more. You made an offhand comment about how he might actually be onto something—“Yeah, some people really don’t know how to use magic responsibly, it’s like handing a toddler a blowtorch”—and that’s all it took.

Rollo’s eyes lit up like you’d just complimented his entire worldview.

He turned to you, eyes wide, rapid-firing questions about your beliefs on magic regulation, ethics, and societal impact. For the first time since you met him, Rollo was genuinely invested, his polite, aloof demeanor melting away as he engaged with you on something that clearly mattered to him. You could practically hear the mental ding ding ding of his brain going, "Finally! Someone gets it!"

By the end of that conversation, the fortress had cracked. The walls weren’t all the way down, but you were inside the outer gates now.

The next day, the roles were reversed. You were on your fourth hour of staring at your own research paper, and the words on the screen were blurring into nonsensical strings of letters. Panic was creeping in, and you were halfway through reaching for your trusty fourth cup of coffee when—slap! Your hand was swatted away.

You looked up, highly offended, only to find Rollo standing over you with a disapproving frown. The audacity.

Without a word, he set down a glass in front of you. Some kind of healthy drink. You stared at it, not trusting it, and he raised an eyebrow, wordlessly daring you to refuse. He'd probably whipped it up himself—fresh, nutritious, and annoyingly sensible.

Grumbling under your breath, you drank it, because at this point, you might as well lean into the chaos of this semester. Surprisingly, it wasn’t bad. It tasted like nature and rejuvenation, or whatever health blogs promise, and you actually felt... better? You powered through your project, and the next morning, you woke up feeling—get this—good. No post-caffeine crash, no impending migraine, just clear-headed and ready to tackle the day.

Your joy was so overwhelming that you practically skipped into the kitchen, like a Disney princess who’d just had her life together for the first time. And there was Rollo, cooking breakfast like the absolute enigma that he was. Naturally, you wandered over and, without even thinking, gave him a back hug while peeking over his shoulder into the pan.

“Smells good,” you said, completely oblivious to the way Rollo froze, spatula in hand, his whole body going rigid.

In Rollo’s mind, you were some sort of divine being who had descended from the heavens to test his resolve. The second you wrapped your arms around him, his brain short-circuited. You were so close. Too close. And soft. And you smelled like whatever magical soap you used, which was currently wreaking havoc on his ability to think coherently.

Why were you like this?

Was this another experiment to see how fast you could make his heart explode?

He tried to maintain his composure, flipping the food in the pan with shaky hands while silently praying you’d release him before he combusted on the spot.

But no. You just kept on, completely oblivious to his suffering, chatting about your day while casually hugging him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You ate breakfast like nothing was wrong, even thanked him with another hug before running off to class. Meanwhile, Rollo was left standing in the kitchen, staring after you like a Victorian gentleman who had just witnessed an ankle. The moment you were out the door, he crouched on the floor, hands covering his blushing face, mentally calculating how much more of this he could endure before he cracked entirely.

This experiment was going to be the death of him.

It was supposed to be a quick night out. A few drinks with some classmates after a grueling day, nothing crazy. You'd told Rollo you'd be back by 11 pm, tops. Maybe you should’ve accounted for the "one more drink" and the "just five more minutes" that inevitably pushed things to 12:30 am. And as fate would have it, your phone decided to die right around the time Rollo was pacing the floors of your shared dorm like a nervous cat, eyes flicking to the clock every five seconds.

By 12:01 am, the texts started. First, a gentle, "Hey, where are you? Still out?"

By 12:15 am, it escalated to "Are you okay? You said you'd be back by now."

At 12:20, "Should I come get you?"

By 12:25 am, he was borderline feral. "Why aren't you answering??" followed swiftly by "I'm about to call the authorities."

When he finally called and got the "unreachable" message, he nearly tipped into full-blown panic mode. His heart was doing triple time, his thoughts spiraling. What if something happened?

He was seconds away from convincing himself that you’d been kidnapped by a gang of magically-enhanced thugs when, to his immense relief, the door creaked open.

You strolled in like it was just another night, smiling at him, completely unaware of the mini-apocalypse happening in his brain.

"Hey! Sorry, my phone died—"

"You’re late," he interrupted, voice tighter than the grip he had on his phone.

You blinked. "Yeah, but—"

"No, do you realize what time it is? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?" His voice cracked, frustration evident, and you could see the tension practically radiating off him. His shoulders were rigid, and his hands shook ever so slightly as he ran them through his hair. He’d always seemed so calm, so composed, but this was the first time you were seeing the cracks.

Before you could stop yourself, your own irritation bubbled up. "I was just out for a couple hours, Rollo, it's not like I—"

But then, you saw it. His breathing was uneven, his whole posture screamed tension, and there was a slight tremor in his hands. Your words trailed off, dissolving in your throat.

He looked ready to combust, and not because he wanted to win an argument. He’d been worried. That realization clicked into place, and your frustration evaporated. He wasn’t angry—he was scared.

You stepped closer, quickly closing the gap between the two of you, and before he could say another word, you reached out and pulled him to you. His head rested on your shoulder, and for a second, he went completely still, as if surprised by the contact. But then, his rigid frame began to loosen, his shallow breaths slowing as he allowed himself to relax in your hold.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your hand running gently through his hair. “I should’ve found a way to let you know. My phone died and I didn’t think—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you like that.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there in the middle of the room, his face pressed against your shoulder as he took deep breaths, gradually calming down. His grip on your sleeve tightened for a moment before he slowly pulled back, clearly feeling a little sheepish.

“No, I... I overreacted,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not my place to—"

“Stop that,” you interrupted. “Experiment or not, we're in this together. You’re allowed to worry. I should’ve told you somehow. I get it now.”

He looked at you, relieved but still unsure, before nodding. You’d come to a resolution—a better understanding of each other.

That night, you both settled on the couch, and you insisted on watching a horror movie to distract from the emotional rollercoaster of the evening. It was one of those ridiculously low-budget flicks with bad special effects and even worse acting, but it did the job.

You sat next to him, his hand gripping yours a little tighter than usual, but you didn’t mind. You leaned back, content, while the garbage horror played in the background, his fingers still interlocked with yours like an unspoken promise that things would be okay.

The next thing that happens makes you realize that the previous night’s breakthrough was only just the tip of the iceberg. Because, apparently, when it comes to Rollo, "issues" aren't fixed with a single comforting hug and some popcorn-level bonding.

It’s a chill afternoon, and you’re gaming in the shared area, completely immersed in your screen. You’ve been stuck on the same boss battle for nearly an hour, so you’re laser-focused, fingers flying over the controls like your life depends on it. You barely register it when Rollo asks something—something mundane, judging by his soft tone—but you’re too preoccupied to catch what it was. You only give a noncommittal grunt in response, eyes glued to the screen as your character slashes through another wave of enemies.

When you finally finish the round (victoriously, might I add), you glance up, stretching your arms, and catch sight of Rollo sitting across the room, looking... incredibly uncomfortable? He’s fidgeting with his sleeves, brow furrowed, biting his lip like someone just asked him to solve world hunger. You blink.

“Rollo?”

He jolts a little, startled by your voice, and looks over at you with wide eyes. You tilt your head. “Did you ask me something earlier?”

His response is instant: “Oh, no, it’s fine! You don’t have to—uh—I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Now that gets your attention. You pause your game, your controller forgotten, as you sit up a little straighter. "Wait, what? Bother me? Rollo, what are you talking about?”

You watch as he shifts awkwardly, his shoulders tight and his gaze flicking between you and the floor. It's the same nervous energy from the night before, except now it's wrapped in a weird layer of... guilt? What the hell?

You toss your controller aside, standing up and walking over to him, and without a second thought, you plop down on the couch right beside him. “C’mon, what’s up?” you coax, nudging him gently. “What did you want to ask me?”

For a second, he doesn’t answer, staring at his hands like they're the most interesting thing in the world. But you don’t move, waiting him out. After a few long moments, he lets out a sigh, almost resigned.

“I thought… I thought you were mad at me because I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer.” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You blink. Once. Twice. And then, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Oh, no. He really thought you were mad at him because you didn’t respond right away? Because you were busy gaming? You bite back a groan of exasperation, but not at him—no, at the fact that this poor guy is carrying around enough emotional baggage to fill a whole fleet of U-hauls.

“Rollo,” you say softly, scooting closer. He doesn’t look up. You reach out and place a hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I wasn’t mad. I didn’t even hear you, I was just really into my game.”

He finally lifts his head, and you can see the hint of skepticism in his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” You give him a smile, trying to make it as reassuring as possible. “I wasn’t ignoring you or anything. I just... you know, lost track of everything. It happens.”

It’s like watching the air slowly deflate out of a balloon. Rollo’s shoulders visibly sag with relief, and he takes a deep breath, exhaling like he’d been holding it in for way too long. “Oh. Okay. That’s… good.”

You grin, giving him a playful nudge. “What, you thought I’d throw a fit over something like that? C’mon, give me some credit.”

His lips twitch, almost like he’s fighting back a smile. “I don’t know. You can get pretty intense when you’re gaming.”

“Fair, but I’m only intense about winning.” You flash him a cheeky smile. “Which, by the way, I did.”

His mouth quirks up at the corner, and just like that, the tension in the room finally dissolves. He’s not exactly laughing, but he’s definitely less tense, and that’s a win in your book.

You mentally add “reassure Rollo he’s not annoying” to the growing list of things you need to keep an eye on while living together. Clearly, you’d be doing a lot of emotional heavy lifting in this experiment. But hey, at least you’d have an extra hand when it came to back hugs in the kitchen.

It starts out innocently enough. You cancel a study session with Rollo—no big deal, right? It’s just one meeting, and you’ve got other commitments. You shoot him a quick text, fully expecting him to be fine with it.

But when you see him later that day? Oh boy.

Rollo looks like he’s just received news that the sky is falling. He’s pacing slightly, his expression carefully controlled, but you can feel the dark cloud of tension radiating off of him. It’s not like he’s outright mad at you, but something’s off. You tilt your head, watching as he fidgets with his sleeve, not quite making eye contact.

“Rollo? You good?”

He freezes for a second, then gives you a tight-lipped smile that’s about as comforting as a broken umbrella in a hurricane. “Fine,” he says, in the most not fine way possible.

And then it clicks. This guy’s not just upset about canceled plans—he’s taking it personally. His anxiety is in full swing, and you realize this is way deeper than you thought. Suddenly, his every movement seems loaded with tension, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. And you're hit with the revelation that maybe—just maybe—Rollo’s not as emotionally stable as you first assumed.

So, after a beat, you decide to do the responsible thing and sit him down for a proper chat. You want to know why he’s so upset over something so trivial, but of course, the moment you bring it up, he’s immediately defensive.

“I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me,” Rollo snaps, his voice sharp as he crosses his arms. “I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Rollo, you look like I’ve personally betrayed you by canceling a study session.”

And just like that, he launches into a tirade about how he’s not mad, he just doesn’t appreciate people dismissing his feelings, and maybe you shouldn’t be taking this whole experiment so lightly. Normally, you’d be ready to bite back with a snarky comment—because, hello, it’s one study session—but something stops you.

Instead of fighting fire with fire, you let him rant. You sit there, quietly absorbing his words, your expression calm, even though internally, your temper is flickering. After he’s done, his words hanging heavy in the air, you take a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you,” you say softly. “I just… I want to understand.”

And that’s when you see it—his defenses waver, just for a second. He stares at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re genuinely concerned or just playing mind games. Slowly, that rigid posture of his deflates, and he lets out a long, weary sigh.

He starts talking. About his brother, the trauma, the way he’s carried that weight for years. His words are raw, and as he speaks, you feel your heart twist in your chest. You’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, you find yourself holding him, your arms around him as he finally lets himself be vulnerable.

It’s then that you realize, in the middle of all this emotional chaos, that you’ve fallen for him. Hard.

After a while, when the room has grown quiet and he’s calmed down, you pull away gently, but not too far. “I’ll make us some tea,” you say, your voice soft.

Rollo doesn’t protest. He just nods, sitting there, still processing everything he’s just shared with you. You head to the kitchen, your mind whirling, but your hands working on autopilot as you boil water and prepare two mugs.

When you return, you set the tea down in front of him and take a seat across from him. The air between you feels different now—softer, more open. For a moment, you both just sip your tea in silence, letting the warmth of the moment settle in.

But then, without really thinking, you reach across the table and take his hand. Rollo looks up, slightly startled, his eyes meeting yours.

“I just want you to know,” you say, your voice quiet but firm, “that I’m not doing this just for the experiment anymore. I like you, Rollo. I know this was supposed to be temporary, but… I don’t want it to be.”

He blinks, taken aback, and for a moment, he’s too stunned to speak. His grip tightens around your hand, though, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. There’s a soft blush creeping up his cheeks, but more than that, there’s an overwhelming sense of relief in his expression, like he’s been waiting to hear those words all along.

“I… uh, I like you too,” he mutters, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “If that… wasn’t obvious.”

You laugh, because of course you do, and before either of you can second-guess yourselves, you kiss him. It’s soft at first, tentative, but it deepens, the tension from earlier dissolving in the warmth of the moment.

Fast forward to the next day, and you two have a midterm check-in with the professor. You’re supposed to give him an update on how the experiment is going, but the moment you and Rollo walk into his office, looking all soft and lovesick, the professor just knows.

He peers at the two of you over the top of his glasses, takes in the way Rollo hovers near you like a protective shadow, and how you’re practically glowing. He doesn’t even bother asking any questions. He just nods, like he’s solved the world’s greatest mystery.

“Full marks,” he says, scribbling on his grading sheet. “I don’t need to hear a report. Just… submit a written one later. Excellent work.”

He’s smiling like a man who’s just unlocked the secrets of the universe, and you and Rollo exchange a look—half amused, half relieved. You walk out of there, knowing that somehow, this ridiculous relationship experiment has turned into something real.

By the end of the semester, you’ve somehow transformed from a procrastinating, caffeine-fueled mess into a finely tuned academic machine. Rollo’s influence on you has been nothing short of miraculous. You’re actually doing your readings ahead of time, submitting papers early, and your stress levels have dropped to the point where you don’t even twitch when the word “deadline” is mentioned.

Conversely, Rollo looks a lot less like he’s one passive-aggressive email away from an aneurysm. Your laid-back attitude has rubbed off on him just enough that he’s no longer muttering about society’s collapse over breakfast. A win-win, honestly.

And now, here you are. The final stretch. Tomorrow is your big joint presentation in front of the psychology class. After that, you’ll be free to go back to your regular dorms, and all this could be just a memory.

But you’re not worried. Why would you be? You confessed your feelings to Rollo weeks ago. He confessed back. Clearly, you’re in a relationship now. Right?

Oh, you sweet, naive fool.

The morning of the presentation, you and Rollo arrive at class, fully prepared to crush it. Everything goes smoothly, and by the time the professor finishes grading you, he’s practically buzzing with excitement. He’s so impressed with your development as a couple that he actually suggests the two of you join his extended study on attachment styles.

“Uh, no thanks,” you say, waving your hand like you’ve just been offered a ride on the Titanic. “I’ve seen enough of my own emotional baggage this semester to last a lifetime. I don’t need a sequel.”

The professor blinks, clearly not expecting you to decline with such flair, but he chuckles and lets it go. “Very well. Full marks, both of you.”

You and Rollo exchange satisfied glances. You’ve done it. It’s over. But as you walk back to your shared dorm for what might be the last time, you notice Rollo’s usual calm demeanor has slipped into something… different. He looks serious.

You figure it’s just post-presentation exhaustion, so when you get home, you flop onto the couch and playfully tug him down to join you. “C’mon, what’s up? We aced the project. You should be celebrating with me!”

Rollo doesn’t flop. He sits—very stiffly, very deliberately—beside you, eyes focused like he’s gearing up for a serious talk. “I need to ask you something.”

You grin, all relaxed and oblivious. “Shoot.”

He takes a deep breath. “What… what exactly are we?”

Oh no. Your brain blue screens. You can hear the windows error noise in your head as everything you thought you knew crashes and burns.

"EXCUSE ME?" you shout, staring at him like he’s just asked if the Earth is flat.

He looks a little startled, but he holds firm. “I mean… I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together. And we’ve shared things. But I don’t think we’ve ever really—”

You grab him by the shoulders, full-on shaking him like a soda can. “I LIKE you, Rollo! I confessed! You confessed! We’ve been cuddling and everything! I thought we were DATING!”

Rollo is frozen, staring at you with the wide-eyed expression of a man who’s just been struck by a bolt of lightning. His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. You, still gripping his shoulders, feel your energy drain all at once. You stop shaking him and just sit there, both of you dumbfounded, staring at each other in complete silence.

Then, without warning, you burst out laughing—so hard that you actually tip off the couch and crash onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Rollo blinks down at you. “Are you… okay?”

Through your hysterics, you wave off his concern, already rummaging through your pocket. “Wait, wait, wait—hold on.”

Still lying on the floor, you pull out a ring pop from your pocket. With dramatic flair, you drop down onto one knee in front of the couch. Rollo’s eyes widen even more as you present the candy ring to him, grinning like an absolute maniac.

“Rollo Flamme,” you begin, in the most theatrical voice you can muster, “will you do me the honor of being my partner? Romantically. And in crime.”

Rollo looks at you, at the ring pop, back at you… and then lets out the longest sigh you’ve ever heard. “You’re impossible.”

You just smile up at him, unbothered. “You love me anyway.”

He pauses, still clearly baffled by your entire existence, but there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah… I guess I do.”

He takes the ring pop, slides it onto his finger with an amused shake of his head, then leans down to give you a quick, sweet kiss. You bask in the victory of it all, still half on the floor, but your heart is soaring.

“Now, can we please cuddle on the couch like normal people?” you ask, hopping back onto the cushions, dragging him down with you.

Rollo, ever the good sport (and clearly exasperated), finally gives in, pulling you into his arms as the two of you settle into the couch. You both stay like that for the rest of the afternoon, the weight of the semester’s insanity finally lifting as you enjoy the most peaceful—and weirdly victorious—cuddle of your life.

Masterlist

this was actually inspired by this absolutely insane (and probably unethical) study i was a part of during a psych elective. we had to take a compatibility test and the worst compatible pairs had to pair up for the rest of the semester. it was hell on earth.

[leychin]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Could be seen as a continuation to All of It, but the idea came from @tenkomura, bc when am i ever not thinking about something she said

Maybe you hate your younger self for being so naive.

Perhaps its because you cling to the memories of before, when everything was so much simpler and All For One was commanding Shigaraki to act. When he messed up, or when you messed up, All For One simply caressed your heads in such a comforting way that the loss felt like nothing.

Oh, how you loved him. Everything was so much easier when it was him. Yes he was the future, yes you were the symbols of fear, but to you he was just Tomura. Its the silent understanding that you both had, that even though the entire world was against you and the cause it was okay because you were together.

He loved you, it didn't need to be said. Even when the league expanded, it was still just you and him. Not to say he doesnt care for the league, because that would be a lie. But the love he has for them pales in comparison to the love he holds for you in the crevices of his heart. Its heard in the blood pumping in his veins and its sung in the whispers of his calm breathing when he's with you.

But you're villains. Villains don't get an ounce of peace. So when the league has ended Overhaul's short lived reign, and everyone's stopped and caught their breath. You sit with him in silence on the side of a bare highway that you'd been walking.

Maybe its foolish, but you follow him like a dog. You watch as Shigaraki opens the case of quirk erasing bullets. He stares. Almost like he wants to test if it works.

You sit next to him, sat shoulder to shoulder now. He simply says "If I erased my quirk, we could be normal." And you don't need to be a genius to know what he means, he means if he didn't have decay he would have a home. If he didn't have decay he wouldn't be All for One's subject of interest, id he didn't have this damn quirk he could be normal with you.

Would there even be a you though?

"Hm, maybe." you supply "You wouldn't have met me though, and I would trade any chances of being normal if it meant i got to be with you." you say, and Shigaraki stills.

"I... I think I would too." he smiles, its a crackly smile that makes blood speck on his lips that you just want to kiss already.

"When this is all over, lets go on a date. Okay?" you ask, your eyes now gazing up at him with hope.

Shigaraki's eyes widen, and looks to the quirk erasing bullets and quickly shuts them. "You promise?" he asks almost eagerly, and you hold up your pinky "pinky swear!"

Oh you fools.

Which is what's left you to stare at Shigaraki's tube. His body floating in the liquid endlessly for whats felt like years, but you know its only been a month or two. You feel so naive for ever thinking it would just be over, because of course its never over.

He would be the new holder of all for one. Because fate stops for nothing and no one, not even love. You hate yourself for being naive enough to hope that you would ever get to love him peacefully. You hate him for not realizing when you did that All for One was using you both. You hate All for One for taking your lives away from you.

This would never be over, Shigaraki will never give pinky promise kisses again, and he'll never build redstone farms for you when you get too frustrated and rage quit. He's never going to reach out for you again, and you're going to spend the rest of your life reaching for someone who's never going to reach back.

You press your head to the glass and cry. The doctor is used to your sobs though ans has grown to ignoring them, which you suppose is a win. But it still doesn't soothe the ache in your chest as you wish for everything to be different, and you pray every night that this is a bad dream. You pray that this is a nightmare and that night Shigaraki did use that quirk erasing bullet. You pray for this to be a bad dream of his and he never developed decay.

Because you would never trade your life with Shigaraki for normalcy, but you love him too much to watch him do this. You wished he would trade you for normalcy because loving him through this and always is simply too much.