#he's so hot when hes mad

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[opera-ghost]

it's immensely funny to me how andrew lloyd webber read this passage from the book and was like yeah the journey down to the phantom's lair is this really breathtaking magical gondola ride where christine is just captivated by the strange and fantastical beauty of it all (see below)

when in the novel they're both like in a rowboat in the dark with christine scared out of her mind and confused as hell while erik is paddling like he's out for an extreme day of fishing and just staring christine down for the entire duration of the journey without blinking once . like mind you his eyes quite literally GLOW in the DARK and he's just fucking staring into her soul and silently rowing and probably not even breathing like

[jedi-starbird]

I don't care what the hatman says I firmly believe Ahsoka is not describing Anakin as anything other than the most cringefail jedi ever.

When she finds out Anakin is Darth Vader? The same Vader she's been fighting against for a decade? The same Vader who's crimes she's had a front row seat for in the rebellion? Who killed all the friends and family she grew up with and is now also killing the new friends and family she's managed to scrape together in the ashes of everything she ever knew? Who puppets around the 501st, her and Rex's brothers, the men who trusted him with their lives, as nothing more than mindless murderers? Ohoho she wants him dead sooo bad. She takes 3 business days to process then comes back with full murderous rage unlocked. She's outside his evil lair banging pots and pans together telling him to square the fuck up, Master. Her Cain instinct is fully activated. Move outta the way old man, Ahsoka's going to do what she must and she's actually going to follow through with her words.

Obi-Wan's got the cornerstone on depression, Ahsoka's got rage covered, together they almost form one healthy grief response. (I'm imagining them both living at the same rebel base post O66 and the twins going between them for wildly contrasting takes on their dad lmao)

[good-to-drive]

[confused-beany]

Ohhhh revenge Louis... revenge Louis... ... I can't

[letsmcfreackingloseit]

So yes I have OF COURSE read @naffeclipse new fic Apex Polarity and yes, I AM OBSESSED!

So I decided to make a little comic of how I think their "first encounter" might have looked like from Eclipse's perspective.

I can't help but think about how alien and scary we most look to him (especially if there is a history of fasco hunting polar sirens in the past). With all that gear we look like emotionless beings, just observing and uncaring of this ice world. But then when y/n shows up and probably exudes this joy and wonder for his world + shows respect for the creatures and the environment??? Mmh yeah, I can see Eclipse falling for y/n, especially considering how alone he might be...

So yes, that's what I have for today! If you want to read the fic I'll link it right here. I can't recommend it enough, but as always, read the tags so you know what you're getting into! And lastly I also want to @themeeplord beacuse Eclipse's design is basically their design in my style (god I love their design so much, their character/creature designs are the BEST) so all the credit goes to them! Polar!Y/N is my design thou! ;P

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go read the two latest chapters-

YIPPEE!!!

[myerssimp21]

Knight's Captive (YAN!Arkham Knight)

Huddled in a cramped cupboard within the shattered remnants of an abandoned cafe in Gotham, you held your breath, praying the Arkham Knight's militia wouldn't find you. Outside, the chaos of the city being occupied by the Knight's forces echoed through the walls.

Through the slats of the cupboard door, you glimpsed the boots of soldiers sweeping the area. Fear gripped you as their footsteps drew closer, their voices mingling with the clatter of debris.

"Clear this place out. No one stays," one soldier barked, his voice cold and authoritative.

Just as panic threatened to overwhelm you, the Knight's modulated voice crackled over their comms. "Hold. Wait," he commanded, his words tinged with a metallic edge. Unknown to you, he activated his heat vision to scan the area, ensuring the vicinity was cleared of threats. "There."

"Look what we found, boss. A lost little lamb," one soldier jeered, suddenly pulling you out of your hiding place after a moment of tense silence, gun precariously pressing against your temple as he laughed at your shaking.

"Hold your fire," the Knight's voice cut through the mockery, approaching you. His interest was piqued by your strange presence amidst the city's turmoil.

"Why is a 'good girl' like you still in Gotham?" the Knight's tone was curious but mostly smug as he interrogated you, observing you clutching your Gotham University sweater tightly. Your sweater implies you're a student, and your clean appearance starkly contrasts the chaos surrounding them.

"I couldn't evacuate in time," you admitted tearfully, your voice barely above a whisper, seeking refuge in your sweater as if it could shield you from the harsh reality of these uniformed men sneering and the presence of their intimidating commander.

There's a beat of silence, and you hesitantly turn your teary eyes up to him, meeting the fearful mask with an expression that makes him hesitate to turn you loose into the streets. Someone like you clearly wasn't meant to be out there with the others, among the animals who either stayed or migrated to Gotham after the city was evacuated. You'd surely become a toy for the sick fucks out there who would delight in a pretty piece of prey like you, not to mention the cloudburst that would leave Gotham uninhabitable.

The Knight tilts his head slightly, considering your words and the vulnerability etched across your face. "Finish sweeping the cafe. Bring her," he instructs his militiamen, his voice firm and commanding. Most of them move to set up a checkpoint, leaving you to be roughly escorted by a militia commander as the Knight leads the way back to the armored vehicles waiting outside.

En route to militia headquarters in the back of an armored vehicle, silence hung heavy between the Knight and you. You glanced at him timidly, your fear palpable in the tense atmosphere.

"Are you going to hurt me?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the rumble of the streets outside although you tried to speak up.

The Knight regarded you with a cold, calculating gaze. "Stay out of the way of my men and don't cause any problems. You'll be fine," he replied, his tone icy but tinged with an underlying tension.

As the vehicle rumbled through the war-torn streets of Gotham, your thoughts raced with fear and uncertainty. Why had fate led you to this moment? What did this Knight want with someone like you?

As you pulled into the heavily defended checkpoint you assumed was his headquarters, the radio in the vehicle buzzed with a voice frustratedly announcing a diamondback had been hit but was still operational.

"Alpha Target is engaging. I need to go," the Knight stated abruptly, his focus shifting away from you and back to the ongoing battle against Batman. You quickly hopped out of the car, not wanting to get in between him and his mission, and are pulled along by the armored man who has been yanking you along this whole time, being led to a warehouse for the Knight to return when he's done.

Inside the grim and foreboding walls of militia headquarters hours later, the Knight continued his intermittent interrogations of you, probing for answers about your presence in Gotham.

"I stayed to find someone. I lost communication with them before Gotham was cut off," you finally confessed, your voice straining with vulnerability.

The Knight's expression hardened at your revelation, his demeanor becoming cold and distant. "I'm not diverting any militia resources to find your friend," he stated bluntly, his words carrying a finality that left no room for argument. "We have more important things to do."

"I didn't expect any militia resources to divert," you stammer, "I just thought I'd be honest with you since it sounds like the cloudburst will drop soon." He's studying your face as your gaze falls to the floor at his intense scrutiny. "I care about him a lot," you add, biting your lip anxiously at the thought of your friend being out there.

The Knight remains silent, his masked face unreadable as he processes your words. It reminds you of the strategy detectives use to make a suspect talk, choosing to let awkward silences hang to prompt them to talk more.

You gather your courage, "I plan to split from the militia forces and try to find him."

At this, the Knight scoffs, his tone dripping with condescension. "You really think you can just wander off? The cloudburst is going to leave Gotham in ruins," he sneers. "Sticking with the militia is your only chance at surviving. Don’t get any ideas about leaving."

"It’s not fair for me to survive and not him," you protest weakly.

The Knight suddenly brings a hand up to press down on a button in his suit after your protest hangs in the air for another awkward moment of silence you refuse to break this time.

"Listen carefully," he begins, and you look up, thinking he was talking to you. But then he continues, his voice authoritative, and you realize he's speaking to his soldiers in his comms line. "Establishing new Beta Target. She's staying at HQ indefinitely."

Hope that had been swirling in your heart came crashing down with his words, his mask coldly staring at you as he went further, "No one lets her leave headquarters under any circumstances except with me."

With his hand now off the comms button, the Knight's helmet eyes bore into your teary ones. "You're part of my operation now," he explained. "Don’t give my men a reason to put you back in line."

You feel suddenly angry and try to mask it, but are unsure if he picked up on it or not. It seems he did.

"You'll thank me when you realize you're the only one who made it out of Gotham alive tonight," he adds and the thought makes you want to shudder, feeling helpless. Maybe he's right. As the Knight responded to chatter on his comms line, your tears finally fell. He turned abruptly at the sight of them and stormed off, barking into the mic about dispersing more tanks across Gotham's streets.

The hours that followed were marked by your downtrodden demeanor. You were sullen, quiet, and reserved, a stark contrast to your earlier state. The Knight noticed the change, his irritation growing with each passing hour. Finally, his patience snapped.

"What's your friend's name?" he demanded, his voice edged with frustration. He was hoping to placate you, to get you to stop being so emotional over his decision.

You hesitated, then replied softly, "Tim. Tim Drake."

The Knight froze. His cowl obscured his face, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. Silence stretched between you, heavy and oppressive. "Repeat that," he finally said, his voice oddly strained.

"Tim Drake," you repeated, a worried tone creeping into your voice. "I know him from Gotham University. I usually have a hard time making friends, so I'm scared one of my only friends is in danger."

The Knight continued in silence, doing the damned detective thing again. The pressure of his unyielding gaze made you fidget.

"He’s a computer sciences major," you added sheepishly. "I’m terrible with tech on that level and I needed to know how to use a data entry thing for my psychology class and he helped me out a lot."

The Knight surveyed you, his gaze intense as he tried to ascertain if you truly didn’t know that Tim was Red Robin. His temper, always on a short fuse, ignited.

"Drake probably doesn’t even remember you exist right now, if he's even alive. People show their true colors in a crisis." The Knight snaps, watching as you look stricken before adding, "You’ve got guts staying behind, but it wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Most people know better."

You recoiled at his words, confusion and hurt evident on your face. The Knight stormed off, unable to contain his rage. He needed an outlet, something to vent his fury on.

Outside, he found a group of Penguin's thugs who had strayed too close to the headquarters. He descended on them with a brutality that left his militia in hushed awe. The sounds of his violence echoed back to you, leaving you feeling even more meek and unsure. You didn’t understand why he was so angry, but you resolved to do whatever you could to avoid further inciting his wrath.

As you sat in the headquarters, one of the militia men hovering near you spoke into his comms. "The Knight's going crazy on the thugs outside," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and fear. "I think he's murdering them."

You shuddered, the words sending a chill down your spine, the reality of your situation sinking in deeper with each passing moment.

You weren’t sure why he was going ballistic or why he would tell you those horrible things about Tim like that. He sounded so angry and… bitter, might be the best word for the biting tone his voice modulator spat at you. You swallowed, overhearing two militia men mutter between themselves about how the knight was a wild card sometimes. How he was quick to anger and quite unforgiving.

You weren’t sure why he’d resolved to pick you up from that abandoned cafe or why he stopped his men from shooting you like a rat, or why he blatantly refused to let you leave, but you had a small hope that you’d get out of this unscathed if you played your cards right. He seemed to admire the way you cared for others even if he thought you were stupid for it. You’d try to do as he said and avoid causing issues for his army. It was the smart thing to do.

Some time later, after he's taken a breather after exerting himself like that, the Arkham Knight overheard some of his militia men talking about the dazed look you had as you gazed over the edge of their headquarters rooftop access. His paranoia flared up. Quickly, he arrived and firmly escorted you to his private quarters, his grip unyielding.

"This is the safest place in the building," he gruffly said, gesturing you inside. "Only I can access it, so it's the most secure."

You protested, trying to pull away, but he snarled, "If I can't even trust you not to jump, you're staying in here. My militia is too busy to babysit." His eyes bore into yours, his anger barely contained. “I saved you. Now do as you’re told.”

You remembered what he did to the thugs outside the compound and quietly complied, filing into the room to avoid angering him further.

"I need to get back to work," he said sternly, leaving and locking the door electronically with several mechanisms behind him. You dejectedly looked at the floor, feeling bummed out.

You spent some time staring at the heavily secured door, contemplating whether there was any chance of escape. Realizing the futility of it, you decided to clean up a little first. Exploring the room, you confirmed there was a bathroom in his private quarters. You poked around through his drawers, searching for clean clothes to wear after you showered and getting distracted. The drawers contained an array of items, some intriguing, some mundane. You found tactical gloves, utility belts, and spare masks, alongside various types of ammunition and parts of guns. There were no complete weapons, as he had correctly assumed you probably wouldn't know how to assemble them. One drawer held maps of Gotham with strategic points marked, communication devices, and encrypted notebooks.

Among the everyday essentials, you found t-shirts, hoodies, and a few pairs of jeans, alongside toiletries like shaving cream, razors, and cologne. In the medical supplies drawer, there were bandages, painkillers, and antiseptics. The drawer with was you assumed was either personal items or super special military items was securely locked, hinting at the Knight's private life.

Carefully selecting some casual clothing he likely wouldn’t miss, you pocketed a small screwdriver from the maintenance tools. The thought of having something, anything, that might help you later was reassuring.

As you curiously fiddled with the lock on the mysterious drawer, a voice suddenly crackled through an intercom you hadn’t noticed in the room. “Are you trying to piss me off?” The Knight’s angry tone startled you, and you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I just wanted to shower and didn’t have a clean change of clothes. I shouldn’t have been prying beyond that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have,” he cut you off briskly. “There are clean towels in the bathroom. Use them.”

The intercom went silent, and you shyly asked, “Should I change in the bathroom?” implicitly questioning whether there was a camera in the room.

“If you want,” he replied, slyly ducking your real question.

Feeling uncertain but not wanting to take any chances, you opted to undress and change in the bathroom after your shower, wary of the possibility of being watched.

You stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime and stress of the last couple days. The warmth was a welcome comfort, a small respite from the chaos surrounding you. After washing thoroughly, you stepped out and reached for a towel, feeling a bit more human again.

As you dried off, you noticed his deodorant on the counter. Hesitating only a moment, you decided to use it. You hated going without and the though unfamiliar, the scent made you feel a little more put together. Brushing your teeth with your finger and some toothpaste you found in the bathroom, you felt even more refreshed.

Dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweats, you felt a semblance of comfort. The clothes were too big, but they were clean and soft. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and despite your unease about sleeping in the Knight’s private chambers, the feeling of cleanliness brought a sense of safety. You stood uncertainly for a moment, staring at the bed. It felt strange, knowing this was the Arkham Knight's private space. But exhaustion eventually won over apprehension, and you reasoned that he wouldn't have confined you to his private chambers if he didn't expect you to use his things. Still, you made sure not to disturb or overstay your welcome. Carefully, you climbed into the oversized bed, pulling the sheets over yourself as sleepiness weighed heavily on your eyelids.

From his position in Gotham, the Knight kept an eye on the various tank compounds and his militia's defensive preparations against Batman. He sat in the back of a vehicle, watching the screens in front of him with an intense focus. One screen showed a live feed from his quarters, where he watched you just as intently as his other screens. He watched as you hesitated at the edge of the bed, uncertainty evident in your movements. For a moment, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—a twinge of concern, perhaps, or even a hint of protectiveness. His usually harsh expression softened slightly, and he resisted the urge to intervene through the intercom, eyes glued to your form lingering above his bed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to him, you relented and settled into the bed he allowed you to use. As you drifted off to sleep, he felt an unexpected sense of calm wash over him. He kept the screen displaying your sleeping form in front of him as he continued to work, the sight somehow soothing amidst the chaos of Gotham.

For a while, he stared in silence, his usually harsh expression softening slightly. There was something oddly soothing about seeing you there, safe and asleep in his space. It was a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite understand or name. The sight placated him, a brief moment of calm amid his relentless campaign against Batman.

Snapping back to the present, he issued a few more orders to his men, prepping them for the next phase of their operation. But even as he spoke, his gaze occasionally flickered back to the screen, ensuring you were still there, still safe, and still his to protect and control.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I love how you draw Xie Lian fucking jacked lmao

He's built like a trucker. To Me.

[lover-of-mine]

LAK @ NJD | 02.15.24

[slavhew]

shortly after this john misses his flipflop and lands with his heel straight on the scorching tarmac

[litrary-nath]

During a dormhead meeting-

Riddle glaring at Leona: "Heartslabyul will host them during the start of the week but not a day beyond that! They tend to eat too much sugar and dig up the roses!"

Leona shrugging: "What Jack does in his free time is not on my head. Anyways, if they sneak into Savanaclaw none of ya get to badger me for news on them got it? I'm not their babysitter."

Vil huffs: "We wouldn't have to if you took your role seriously! And Pomefiore already hosted them during all weekdays last week!"

Idia sounding frazzled even through his tablet: "Just- can we keep them out of Ignihyde this week? They- they spent the weekend gaming and raising a ruckus! Everyone is still jittery from the shouting!!!"

Kalim sheepish: "I'd offer but after the incident at the last party Jamil kinda banned them from our dorm till we can get the scorch marks out of the walls"

Azul with a frown: "I'd normally host them at the lounge for an appropriate fee but I need it in working condition after last month's fiasco"

Malleus looking put out: "I did offer to let the child of man and their friends 'carsh' with Sebek as Lilia says, but they claimed that the dorms 'vibe' is nor suited to the relaxation they are aiming for"

[saetoshis]

the obsession is coming back👹

[misslovasstuff]

if he doesn’t set himself on fire for you, is he really the one?

[sparklingchim]

[july-19th-club]

giggling and kicking my feet and prancing into my armchair to watch this annoying guy do embarrassing things on my tv show with his hot friend . and also Tim is there

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D