#if i have to go somewhere by myself they'll be like

[furiousgoldfish]

I don't get why there are no resources for healthy expressions of anger. Are we as a society fundamentally opposed to people feeling anger? Are we afraid that if people get angry they're going to cause destruction so as an alternative we want anger to just not exist? Anger will go somewhere regardless of whether we want it to exist or not, and if a person who has good reasons to be angry, is not allowed to feel angry, they'll get eaten by self hatred and depression because that's what internalizing anger does.

It's also interesting that when abusers and people in power are angry, they can pretty much do whatever they like. Say no to them, they're having crazy revenges, they're tearing apart your stuff, they're starting wars, they're telling you how they're going to kill you in detail, no self restraint, no consequences, nothing. Anger is theirs to do as they please with and in response the society is just, too scared to do anything, so they assume that this specific anger is 'justified' and 'cannot be helped'. However when victims of something are angry, then they're labelled as 'unreasonable' and 'dangerous' and 'unable to move on from things'. Their anger is a problem that needs to be squashed, erased, there's apparently no justifications for these people to be angry, nothing that is reasonable or okay for them to do about it, they just get demonized and shamed for having a completely rational response to injustice.

Is that it then? Those who are able to act out on their anger, get justifications and obedience, but those who are helpless but angry for very good reasons, are just to be suffocated? Anger is allowed only for some parts of human society and it's the most violent, destructive and dangerous part of it too? Where is this getting us? Is the amount of injustice ever going to decrease if we defend injustice, and fight for it to keep going on?

If I look up ways to express anger, I get stuff like 'anger management steps', and 'letting go and moving on from anger', like excuse me. I didn't even get to express 1% of my anger and I need anger management? I have never had problems with controlling my anger, the struggle is to get it out at all! To integrate it into my personality, to hold people accountable without having to think about it, to show resistance when I'm being stepped on! What anger management? Why am I pushed to move away from anger, I haven't even arrived to anger!

Why is it assumed that every person who struggles with expressing anger is a maniac breaking things, enacting revenges, trying to injure or murder people, lashing out and doing harm to everyone around themselves. I can guess why. Because all of the resources are created for people who are letting their anger run wild without a cap and who use anger to get their way. The world is adjusted for people who are allowed to be angry, who were never pushed to the point where getting angry meant loss of survival, where expressions of anger would lead to torture. I am apparently not even considered to exist. I'm either a maniac or not a target audience for anger resources.

If someone's been traumatized out of being able to feel angry, people don't think it's worth having this person angry. It's very obvious this person has giant reasons for anger, so if we let them feel it, they could become 'dangerous', or 'just like their abuser'. You know, being angry at the abuser does not make anyone like the abuser, it makes them Normal. Rational. Having Self Worth. Human. Logical. Reasonable. Engaging in everyone's best fucking interest because you know that abuser is going wreck havoc forever and if nobody is even angry at them, it's giving them an even easier time. Anger is scary when it's in hands of abusers, in the hands of victims it is liberating, just, it puts things into perspective and back where they belong.

Now give me the fucking resources to get angry. I'm sick and tired of hating myself.

[whumpy-wyrms]

love how my friends just cannot resist telling me how whumpable i look whenever we hang out together

[an-assortment-of-forks]

there are doctors there are hospitals there are specialists there is medicine there are systems in place so people do not have to suffer and be tortured under their own chronic pain daily and yet. they're all fucking inaccessible to the people who need it most!!! to what I would argue is most disabled people!! I'm so fucking done with the medical system.

[zerodaryls]

i'm so fucking sick of seeing horrific news with zero info on what's being done to help. stop showing us all these fucking bans on trans healthcare if we can't do anything about it. point us toward organizations that are helping. share mutual aid requests from people who need help moving out of unsafe states.

the journalism industry at large is irresponsible as fuck. we know this. but holy fuck, where is the news site that's about empowering people to make things better rather than just using horrific headlines to get views and offering NO hope whatsoever?

[danielnelsen]

family is out having a nice dinner and trying to convince me to come but i have way too much to do before i have to get up at the crack of dawn to get on a plane tomorrow, so dad's like "the food will be so nice, you're really missing out" then gives the phone to my sister who's like "the food will be so nice, you're really missing out," like........what part of "i have too much to do" says i can be convinced as if im just lazily deciding to stay home? all you've done is made me feel bad on top of being stressed about everything i have to do and how im not gonna get to have nice food today. cool thanks

[moodyvamp]

the random urge to travel i get every once in a while vs The Problems

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

I love so much stories of older siblings having to save their younger siblings from a magical kidnapping it's just. I'm too old to believe in magic and you're not but you're the one stolen and I'm the one who has to believe to get you back because our parents are too far gone, they'll never understand. You're my responsibility and I don't want you to be but when offered a choice to walk into the dark for you or to turn back I will always go on. I seem like such a grown-up powerful force to you but I'm just a kid myself. I'm scared and alone but somewhere out there you trust me to save you and I have to rise to that, I have no choice. I resent your existence. I love you. I will always come find you.

[heartfullofleeches]

Deerboy Yan who tries to get himself caught in cannibal hunter reader's nets so they'll take him back to their home where they'll hopefully have their way with him and keep him as their pet-

"Ahhh- Help! I was walking home all by myself when I felt into this net. It's getting dark soon- Somebody, please save me."

The switch of a pocket blade slices through the still night air. His ears twitch as a twig snaps somewhere in the darkness brooding over his shoulder. Exhilaration draws at the corner of his lips as a voice rasps out- eerily calming as it is dreadfully familar. Like a second kiss with death.

"These traps aren't for you, Deer."

A single cut is all it takes for the net to come crashing to the forest floor.

"Not enough meat on your bones for me. You aren't exactly my preferred choice of meat to start off with."

The deer claws his way out of the net's opening. The drop wasn't too steep, and he needed to act quick. He's been in enough of your safer traps to know his way out - nine times out of ten. Dragging his nails and body through the dirt, the net's rope tangles around his hooves as he struggles. The hybrid tries to kick it off till near exhaustion- flopping onto his back as he kicks his tied legs in the air for you to see.

"But look at what how clumsy I am. It would be so easily for you to drag me back to your house like this.... Using me for hours till I can't fight back anymore when you finally decide to free me."

You turn to walk away.

"You know I think I'd be good bait for other humans."

You stop dead in your tracks.

"A weak, helpless deer chained up in that old slaughter house. "Help, Help! They're going to kill and eat me next. Please, won't somebody save me?" Pretty convincing, right? Just think about all the meat you could have - if you just take me home with you."

A squeal of joy escapes the hybrid's lips as you grab him by the antler's - pulling him along in the direction of your cabin.

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

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[metalomagnetic]

After seeing about 50 'Dumbledore is evil' and 'everything is Dumbledore's fault' and 'but why didn't Dumbledore did this or the other' posts in a row, I find myself wishing Dumbledore just fucked off to somewhere nice and sunny in '81, early retirement (or is it early if he's already 100?) and washed his hands off magical Britain entirely.

Some of y'all sound like Fudge with your Dumbledore bashing. I wish, at least, Dumbledore would have left when Fudge and that corrupt as hell Ministry did their best to ruin his name and his image.

Pack up his ancient shit and move to a nice beach somewhere, with his pet bird and a huge bag of candy.

This way, my man Voldemort could have won in like five minutes, and Harry would be dead, Voldemort would rule supreme, Bella would keep being the queen she is, and my little Voldemort shaped heart would be happy.

But no, Dumbledore stayed, orchestrated Voldemort's downfall by giving Harry step by step instructions, gave up his own life in the process, made sure Harry would keep his, because apparently that's what 'evil men' do instead of retiring in comfort.

Not only Harry wouldn't have survived without Dumbledore, but he most likely wouldn't even exist without Dumbledore. Because, you know, this evil man is also the one that took down another dark lord back in the day; if Grindelwald would have won, there would be no Lily, most likely. Thus no Harry.

But yes, go get your 'Dumbledore is evil' badges- I hear Fudge and Umbridge are leaders of the hate club, I'm sure they'll receive new followers with open arms. Draco is probably the secretary, because he hates Dumbledore, too, and he likes making badges.

Also, can someone explain to me how Dumbledore, the only gay man in canon, became the fandom's resident homophobe? That's just weird, my friends. Very weird, to say the least. It gets even nastier when you say he 'groomed' students. That's an awful thing to throw around about a gay dude, you know?

There are so many reasons one can dislike Dumbledore for, but you do have the option to not like a flawed character without turning them into a ridiculous caricature of themselves.

P.S: I am not talking about fics. Write your fics and your characters however you want, whatever makes you happy. Your fic is your domain, and you do whatever you want in there, hopefully with no asshole to attack you in the comments. Same with reading- read what you want, bashing or no bashing. Have the best of fun!

I am talking about these 'meta' type posts on social media, tagged with "Albus Dumbledore", where they act as if canon Dumbledore was legit evil, incompetent or homophobic.

[medium-rare-bimbo]

Piss kink with billy Hargrove

Mean billy x crybaby reader

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain Dubcon, humiliation, piss obviously

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ you were driving back from a party one town over, you hadnt drank much alcohol sticking to your giant cup of whatever fruity drink you had, constantly refilling it so you hand your hands full

♡ you had needed to pee a couple of houses back but was sure you could hold it, however when billy was constantly hitting the bumps in the road causing your bladder to jolt making the ache worse

♡ half way down a deserted road you were pressing your thighs together with so much force that you were frozen still to the seat whimpering every time the car shifted

♡ billy wasnt and idiot, not in the slightest, he knew the clenching of your thighs wasnt from arousal he was good, but he wasnt that good. He purposefully swerved for the bumps and holes in the road as soon as he saw the furrow of your brow and the squeezing of you legs indicating that you needed to pee

♡ you would occasionally glance at him hoping he would ask what was wrong so you wouldnt have to blurt out your needs, working up the confidence to speak, with watering eyes and heated cheeks you pathetically whispered out "billy I need to pee..."

♡ "What d'ya say? couldn't hear you" knowing full well he did of course he wasnt going to admit that to you, seeing you wiggle in discomfort was so much better then letting you say things without being embarrassed

- "i-.. I need to pee.."

♡ he barked out a mocking laugh "you need to pee? Really? Why didnt you do before we left? I told you to go before we got in the car"

"I-I tried to go but I couldnt-"

"You tried? So you didnt go? God women- you're gonna have to hold it I'm not pulling over theres no bathrooms until we get back to Hawkins -"

"But billy I need to go now! I'm not gonna be able to hold it for that long"

♡ your voice was shaking and your lips were wobbling as your tears started to fall as you tried to convince him to find somewhere to let you relieve yourself

"Wh-what if I pee myself-"

♡ he grabbed you by the neck at tilted your face with gritted teeth he growled out

"You piss on my seat I'm leaving you out here to fend for yourself ya hear me?"

"No billy please! I just want to pee please dont leave me"

♡ at this point you were sobbing your full bladder and thoughts of Billy abandoning you in the middle of a road where hardly anyone came by was becoming too much. He suddenly stopped the car, pulling over to the side of the road getting out and storming his way over to your side and opening the car door before removing your seat belt and pulling you out.

♡ "if you want to piss so badly do it now"

"W-what-"

"You heard me, you either piss now or do it in the car"

"But its embarrassing Billy- I- i dont want to pee on the floor-"

♡ your tears increased as you spoke, your voice sounding like a whiny crybaby. Billy grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down so you were squatting

"Piss."

"I need to take of my underwear a-and my shoes- t-they'll get all wet and gross-"

" jesus you're so high maintenance" He pushed you on your back pulling your shoes off, throwing them into the car "Just pull them to the side for God sake, you wanted to piss so bad, now piss"

♡ he sat in your seat staring down at you as you looked up at him sobbing mess with your hand between your thighs pushing your underwear to the side giving him a small glance at your cunt, The other holding on to his car while you tried to balance yourself

"Billy.. cant go if you're watching i-'is dirty"

"Suck it up You either go now or never"

♡ you let out a whimper and looked away to humiliated for him to see your face however his eyes were no where near your face rather glued to your pussy as it started to release the thing you've been desperately holding In

♡ your pussy fluttered as you finally got release you whined and whimpered as you hear him let out a groan, the liquid spreading over the floor and soaking into the ground aswell as your socks you tried to shuffle out the way to avoid it but your efforts were useless as you almost fell back into your mess (which billy chuckled at)

♡ a car drove passed making you squeal with embarrassment, your chest stuttering as you tried to calm yourself praying they didnt see you. what felt like an eternity you finally finished you gave a few squirts of piss trying to get all of it out, some of it dribbling down your thighs. You looked up at him, you hadnt stopped crying since he pulled you out of the car, he looked down at you, his hand resting on his bulge.

"What? You went now get in the car but take your socks off I'm not having your piss covered feet in my car"

"I- I need a napkin billy I'm all gross"

♡ he rolled his eyes smirking down af you before leaning down

"Too bad, shouldnt have used all of the ones we had to do your make up"

His condescending tone making you cry even more as you asked him to try and find something

♡ he huffed and pulled you to your feet peeling off your socks and making you lie back on the seat

"Billy what are you doing-"

"Shut up"

♡ he pulled your underwear back to the side and put his mouth over you now soaked pussy he cleaned up the remnants of your piss making sure you were all "clean" so you wouldnt complain. The only noises heard were your sniffles, whimpers and Billy's slurping.

♡ he sat up and slapped your thigh before wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he pulled you into a kiss which you tried to back out off, disgusted,  but unfortunately for you he kept you in place. He shut your door and got back into the car, the silence was overwhelming and you werent sure how to respond or act after experiencing what you just did.

"Just so you know I'm going to ruin that ass when we get home, we're going to be home late because of you"

[sturniolo-fall-enthusiast]

Meet the Parents

Request: Hii🩷 can you maybe make like a fic where reader is matt’s girlfriend and friends with the triplets and after like a few months of dating Matt she meets their parents in Boston and she’s like nervous and stuff and they all try to calm her down and their parents and other brother end up loving her

The triplets are going to visit Boston for a little bit and Matt invited his girlfriend of five months, the girl immediately accepting the invitation. The general idea of meeting the rest of Matt's family and seeing where he grew up was amazing at first, but now that they're about to leave, she has nothing but anxiety coursing through her.

"What if your parents totally hate me? What if they think I'm not good enough and you deserve much better?" Y/N rants off any question that comes to mind.

"They won't think that." Matt insists. "I've talked about you countless times and my mom already loves you."

"So your dad might hate me." Y/N says.

"He doesn't hate you either." Matt says. "Stop psyching yourself out, sweetheart. I know you're nervous, but it'll go great. I promise." He kisses her on the forehead.

"We're back!" They hear Nick yell out, the other two triplets having gotten an Uber to go pick up some food for the group, Matt needing to stay and pack.

"Come on." Matt grabs her hands, pulling her to her feet. He leads her out as she continues to wrack with nerves.

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight. I could totally embarrass myself and they'll hate me forever." Y/N whines.

"Baby..." Matt tries.

"What are you talking about?" Chris frowns.

"Y/N's nervous about meeting mom and dad." Matt says. "Despite me assuring her that it'll all be okay."

"They've been looking forward to meeting you." Nick says. "Mom will probably be attached to your hip all day asking questions and gushing over you." He laughs.

"Yeah, they ask about you whenever Matt talks to them." Chris says.

"What about Justin? He could totally hate me. You're his little brother, it may not--"

"Justin will be fine." Chris promises.

"Long as you and Matt are happy, that'll probably be all they need to be happy." Nick says, his brothers nodding in agreement.

"It'll be okay." Matt promises, cupping his girlfriend's face. "And if you're too nervous, I'm right there the whole time. I promise." He pecks her on the lips.

"Can you guys save that for later so we're not throwing up during our meal?" Chris pleads.

"Shut up, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes.

---

They're at the airport in Boston, waiting on the boys' parents. Y/N barely got sleep and has been anxious the whole day, Matt doing his best to calm her nerves by making her focus on things other than meeting his family.

Matt grabs onto Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers and gently squeezing.

"They'll love you." Matt assures.

"Hey, there they are." Chris points. "Oh, Justin came." He smiles.

Y/N stands back, watching with a soft smile as the boys reunite with their parents and older brother.

Her smile falters for a moment when the attention is turned to her and Matt quickly wraps his arm around her waist, gently squeezing her hip in reassurance.

"Mom, dad, Justin, this is Y/N." Matt introduces, a grin full of love directed to his girlfriend.

"Hi, sweetheart. It's so nice to meet you." Mary Lou immediately greets her with open arms, pulling the girl into a hug.

"Hi." Y/N softly replies, gently hugging the woman back.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jimmy smiles, giving her a quick hug.

"Hey, nice to meet you." Justin gives her a small wave, Y/N returning it with her own wave.

"Nice to meet you guys, too." Y/N smiles.

"Oh, we've heard so much about you. I can't wait to learn more." Mary Lou smiles. "Come on, let's get you guys something to eat and get home."

"Sweet." Chris excitedly whispers at the idea of eating.

"Y/N, what food do you like? We can go out somewhere." Jimmy offers.

"Oh, uh... I-I'm okay with wherever." Y/N smiles.

"She loves Italian food the most." Nick speaks up.

"Ooh, perfect! There's a really good place we all enjoy, you can try it." Mary Lou grins.

"Can't wait." Y/N nervously smiles, reaching for Matt's hand.

"All right, let's go, boys." Mary Lou urges.

"See? Not so bad." Matt quietly says.

"It's only the first five minutes. I could still totally fuck up." Y/N insists.

"You won't. It'll be amazing, promise." Matt tells her, kissing her cheek.

After lunch, Y/N's anxiety had finally started to dwindle after spending time with the triplets' family and being able to converse with the three just as easily as she can with the boys.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

pleaseee kisses prompts 14, 15, and 33 with patrick zweig 🙏🫠

Sure :D

Prompts: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it; a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished; a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

Warnings: Fluff; flirty Patrick; fake dating; smooches

Summary: Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

"Would you cut it out?"

"No." Patrick's refusal was muffled as he chowed down on another two mini crab cakes. You glanced around nervously, concerned that anyone you knew might see your plus one shoving every hors d'oeuvre that he could get his hands on into his mouth.

Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

The trade was straightforward: Patrick was your plus one to your friend's wedding, and you let Patrick shower at your place and crash at yours (or cover the cost of a motel for the night—he was cool with either).

But now, you were considering cutting ties early. If Patrick kept this up, then it defeated the whole fricking purpose of having him go with you in the first place. You didn't think that anything could be more embarrassing than showing up to a wedding alone while your ex was attending with his new girlfriend, but the way Patrick was stuffing his face was quickly proving you wrong.

"Seriously," You hissed, leaning in and elbowing him in the side, "You're either gonna choke, or I'm going to choke you."

Patrick grinned as he chewed, dusting off his fingers.

"Okay," He agreed before chasing the swallow with a swig of his beer. "Okay, you're right. I'll slow it down."

"Thank you."

"Need to save room for dinner, anyway. And cake. Are people still doing cake at weddings?"

"Sometimes."

"You think they will?"

"Honestly, they seem more like a dessert bar couple. They'll probably have a little cake for themselves."

"Explains why I haven't seen one." He folded his arms on the high table, glancing around the others mingling at cocktail hour. "Seen the ex yet?"

"No."

"You should've shown me a picture, I could keep an eye out for him, too."

"Better if you don't know what he looks like. Then you can be genuinely surprised if I introduce you."

"You don't trust my acting abilities?"

"With all due respect, you could be Ted Bundy 2.0 for all I know."

"Fake cast and missing puppy story not included."

You smiled in spite of yourself, and Patrick grinned.

"Tell me about yourself," He urged.

"What for?"

"Gotta pass the time somehow—especially if you're going to poo-poo me from the pu pu platter."

"There isn't a pu pu platter in sight."

"Can you just appreciate the joke?"

"It was a fine joke."

"C'mon. I mean, you're funny, you're gorgeous," He raised his hand, waving toward you, "Why does someone like you need to surf Tinder to find a plus one?"

You smiled, looking down at your drink.

"First of all, thank you."

"Anytime."

"Second of all...I don't know, since my ex left me I've been focusing on myself."

"No hoe phase?"

"Hoe—ly shit, you seriously talk to people you don't know like that?" You scoffed.

"I just mean, you know. Sometimes after a breakup, you wanna fuck around a little. Nothing wrong with that. It would explain why you're on Tinder."

"Oh? Is that you're on Tinder?"

"Honestly? No."

"Why, then?"

Patrick shrugged. "I like sex and sometimes I have trouble finding somewhere to sleep."

"How's that working?"

"Better than you'd think."

"Does the sex thing always happen?"

"Not always. I'm happy to crash on a couch."

"Mm."

"Not that I mind it when it happens. Thanks for answering my question, by the way."

"What do you mean?"

"About the hoe phase. You just said 'the sex thing' like it's a creature from the black lagoon."

"I did not—" You began to wind up for the next round of argument, but were cut off by the sound of your name being called. You winced, steeling yourself and urging, "Don't look."

"That the ex?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," Patrick stood up straighter, straightening his jacket. "Showtime."

"You sound way too excited—"

"Hey!" Your ex spoke up behind you, and you slapped a smile on, wheeling around and greeting, "Jeremy, hi!"

"How's it going?" Jeremy began to lean in for a hug, but went still when Patrick curled his arm around your waist. Your stomach flipped at the gesture, keeping your eyes carefully trained on Jeremy's face.

"It's going great, how are you?"

"It's good, it's good."

"Where's Francesca?"

"Oh, she's grabbing a drink."

"Awesome."

"You want another one, baby?"

Patrick's question threw you for a loop for a second, but you shook your head, smiling.

"I'm good, hon, but thanks."

"I don't think we've—met?" Jeremy's voice tipped up, and you had to fight off a laugh.

"I don't think you have. Jeremy, this is Patrick."

"Hi."

You watched Jeremy hold his hand out to shake, but Patrick just tightened his grip on your hip, drawing you a little closer as he offered, "Nice to meet you."

Jeremy's smile faltered as he drew his hand back, tucking it into his pocket.

"You two been together long?"

"Oh, gosh, a few months," You flubbed.

"How'd you, uh—How'd you meet?"

"At a match. I'm a tennis player."

"Oh! You any good?" Jeremy asked.

"He's the best," You answered without missing a beat.

Patrick chuckled softly, nose nudging against your cheek. "You're gonna make me blush, sweetie."

"Good," You smiled at him. A thrill shot through you as Patrick's eyes dipped to your mouth, and before you knew it, he was leaning in for a gentle kiss. You let your eyes slip closed, your lips working tenderly against his. Patrick's hand slid from your hip, sliding lower and palming your ass. You drew back, giving Patrick a warning look before turning to look at Jeremy again as he cleared his throat.

"I should go find Francesca."

"Sure! It was great seeing you."

"You, too—and nice meeting you, Patrick."

"Charmed," Patrick cooed. The two of you watched him turn, disappearing into the crowd.

"...That was good, right?"

"Yeah, it was good...Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Get your hand off of my ass."

"Sure." He gave it a pat before turning back to the table, eyeing a passing server's tray. "Is that shrimp cocktail?"

--

"That wasn't so bad."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Little bit of both." Patrick leaned against your front hall wall. You took him in for a moment, taking in his loose tie, and his jacket where he was holding it over his shoulder.

"I think we were very convincing, so," You tipped your head from side to side. "You're right. It wasn't so bad. Thank you."

"Hey, sure. You can just venmo me."

"What?"

"For the motel."

"Oh! Oh, of course." You fished into your purse for your phone, biting your lip. To be honest, you'd been rethinking that particular part of the plan all evening. You hated to admit it, but Patrick was gorgeous, and had been so goddamn charming. He'd been funny, had made conversation with the other guests at your table, and he'd been perfectly affectionate—kisses on the cheek, the lips; a hand on your back, your waist. A time or two, he'd gazed into your eyes in a way that had felt so sincere and...Real.

Sure, he'd driven you nuts at the beginning of the evening, but he had grown on you.

"Um," You spoke up. "I was, uh...I was thinking."

"What about?"

"About the sex...Thing." You glanced nervously toward Patrick just in time to see his expression melt into flirty intrigue.

"Oh yeah?" He goaded. "What about it?"

You couldn't just come out and say it, right? You set your phone down on the counter and strode toward Patrick before you could talk yourself out of it. You grasped his rough cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. He went without hesitation, dropping his jacket and curling his arms around you. You groaned softly, sliding a hand up into his hair and letting him steer you back against the wall. You parted your lips as Patrick's tongue probed them gently, his leg slotting between yours and rocking it back and forth.

You rolled your hips down against it, whining softly against his lips as his hands skimmed over your body. Patrick began to draw away, but you leaned up, catching hold of his lower lip with your teeth and giving it a rough bite. His hips jolted against yours, groaning low in his throat as you soothingly slipped your tongue along the skin.

"Do you still want me to Venmo you?" You asked.

"Not really. You still want me to crash on the couch?"

You hummed, pretending to contemplate before you let your hand slide from his curls to his neck.

"How about we start on the couch."

[cats-artbag]

SwapOut/Webcomic/Twitch PSA!

Hi everyone 👋🏻 Zk here >< or Cats, for older followers

So I've been getting back into doing SwapOut again, but I would like to appeal to everyone who reads and loves the comic. Much love to all of you who's still sticking around 🙏🏻💙 But something has also always been bothering me throughout this journey.

As many of us know, we artists do these comics for free (especially fan comics), starting them out of love and taking a LOT of time and energy out of our lives to continue making them.

And it's amazing how many of you come from translations or comic dubs on Youtube, which are also very well-done and take a lot of effort to make, much love to them too. There is a difference, however.

Monetization.

And I'm not asking for pity! I'm appealing for understanding.

Because some comic dubbers on Youtube are able to earn ad revenue from the videos they upload. From the beginning, we artists have given them the permission to dub our works. But we don't receive anything from it, nor do we usually charge them for using our art (against our better judgement).

We let them use our comic pages in their monetized videos for free. And occasionally these videos receive thousands and millions of views, which I imagine gives a decent amount of ad revenue, while the artists themselves don't usually earn anything from their own artwork, nor do we ever want to put it behind a paywall of any kind. (we like reading free comics too so don't worry x|)

... But doing full-colored comic pages for free eventually gets hard to sustain without any income from it, even more so when we need to give our time and energy to other jobs to earn money for a living instead. We legitimately keep going on our comics purely out of love. Truly, we would LOVE to do our own art for a living. There's things like Patreon but it's only feasible if we're also able to produce bonus content or show BTS, and only people willing to spend money for them can help us, and not readers who aren't able to.

And we understand that not everyone can afford to support us monetarily. And that's okay!

But if you love these comics and want to really help us to keep going, there ARE ways you can easily support us for free!

For example, affiliates on Twitch (like myself) are able to earn ad revenue very early on (they must have at least 50 followers, quite a requirement, but still easier to obtain than Youtube's 1000 subscribers).

(my Youtube, btw. not much rn but drop a subscribe?)

But simply put, if the vast majority of readers from the yt numbers visit and stay for ads on the artists' Twitch streams (remember to have adblocker disabled for the site, if any), they'll be making an actual, physical contribution to the artist themselves, at no cost whatsoever. We earn up to 55% from any ads that run on our stream, so the more viewers, the better!

(this is my twitch on average 8 viewers, with a 3 hour stream. again, the more the better!)

(ofc you can also buy subs to watch ad-free and supports me directly, but i'm typing all this to share the free ways people can support their fave creators ✨)

And even if that doesn't work out, I'd be happy enough to see most of you there 🙏🏻💙 I've been treating my streams as work, so I'm striving not to break the streak.

So drop a follow on my Twitch, and catch the streams when you can! They're great if you need company or background noise, and also great for co-working~

Currently streaming WEEKLY, Mondays, Wednesdays (SwapOut) and Saturdays, 10.30AM EST

(art by @cupcakepaints)

>> twitch.tv/zkcats <<

Anyway thanks for listening to my Ted talk, please share this around for others as well >< 🙏🏻 Artists, make this a reblog chain or something! Promo your stuff!

And apologies for the essay, I wasn't expecting to type this much sdghsgh this itself is not an ad for Twitch or whatev, I'm just a little frustrated with needing to juggle all this.

I was also considering hosting SwapOut somewhere that could get ad revenue, but I wasn't sure where until I realized I can probably earn that from my Tapas now (i think?? sdfhgh up to 70% ad revenue there but i haven't seen any yet) So maybe I'll post there a day earlier than here or something? We'll see. Go subscribe there! Check it out! Reread it! Help ME help YOU!

... Much appreciated ><

[lostinforestbound]

I can't stop myself because this tiefling has taken over my damn life. Here we go again!

Romantic Rolan Headcanons

Gods, he is so unbelievably nervous when it comes to the romance aspect of dating, but he hides it behind of facade of confidence. He's master of the tower now, he has everything that his partner could possibly want; why doesn't it ever feel like enough?

In the beginning, he overcompensates in fear of messing up everything about the relationship. Lavish gifts, expensive dates, the whole nine yards with his newfound wealth he gained from the tower. It's a bit uncanny.

In all honestly, he figures his partner wants "The Master of Ramazith's Tower", not him. Rolan is a flawed creature who has piles of constant mistakes weighing on him; an utter, helpless fool. Why would anyone want that? No one has ever wanted him before, why now?

When Rolan realizes his partner seems confused and maybe put off by the facade, he thinks the worst things possible. Do they not desire him? Did he already mess things up so early into the relationship? Can he salvage this? Did they fall out of love?

In the beginning, he's not great at communication. It's horrid, even. He doesn't know how to verbalize how he's feeling. His partner would have to teach him as they sit down and talk about this facade he's put up. It will take a while, but they eventually will get his walls down.

I think his love language is complex, but in simpler terms, Quality Time is where I think he leans towards the most. Sitting with them as they read books, reading to them as they settle in bed, going on night walks if nightmares are haunting him, or something as simple as cuddling after a long day. One his absolute favorites is bathing together; the domestic intimacy of it all makes him feel loved and relaxed, especially if his lover washes his hair for him.

He's not the biggest fan of public display of affection, he gets bashful so easily. He'll outright refuse it if his partner tries. He prefers all of it to stay in the private setting. That doesn't stop his tail from winding itself around his lovers leg, though!

While it will take him some time, what ends up being one of his favorite things is eye contact. At first, he couldn't meet them in the eyes at all during vulnerable moments. It was too much. But the first time he finally holds their look properly, he's memorized. There is so much love in their stare, it makes his heart want to burst out of his chest with joy, and he's never been that flustered again.

He'll shout to the ends of Faerun that he's not cuddly but he is a liar. Every night, without fail, he'll at least a hand somewhere on his partner. By the time morning comes, their limbs are tangled with his and he has his face buried in their neck or chest.

Despite Cal being the main chef in the tower, Rolan does know how to cook! Any meal his partner wants, he will make, no question. He would love cooking even more if his partner joined and helped him out. He even has a mental list of all his partners comfort foods, so he can make them whenever they're sick or having a rough day. They wouldn't even have to ask for it, it's sitting in the kitchen already done.

He doesn't like being too vulnerable, so he's mortified when his partner has to shake him out of a nightmare for the first time. He's shaking, sweating, and apologizing. He's scared they'll see him as some weak, fragile thing. But all they do is stay up with him until his racing heart calms down and talk to him. It can be discussed in the morning.

He plans the most wonderful dates! Everything is scheduled in a timely matter every time, and he presents a gift at the beginning of the date every time. Sometimes small, sometimes extravagant if it's a special night. He gets gifts based purely on what he knows about his partner; favorite books, food, drinks, flowers, an outfit they were eyeing a few days ago, he'll get it no matter the cost.

I don't see Rolan as a man who uses a lot of pet names, but I can see him using terms along the lines of "my love" or "dearest". If his partner uses pet names with him though, he wouldn't mind it, just as long as it was in a private setting.

He has the absolute sweetest, longing stare. It can be quite obvious how much he's pining after his partner if you know what to look for. His tail gives so much away, with the way it flicks happily if they come over to kiss him. These stares hold on much longer after he gets himself comfortable with eye contact.

(NSFW Headcanons will be coming next! If you all have your own romantic headcanons for Rolan, please share! I would love to hear them!)