robert-is-ugly

anonymous asked:

i hope alec punches robert in the face .. like as soon as robert shows his ass at the institute i hope alec doesn't even let him say a single word and just punches him to the ground .. then he kicks him out and when robert says "you can't do that" alec should say "head of the institute binch .. i can do whatever the fuck i want" and then he informs robert that luke is his father now and there's no need for robert to ever show his ugly face again. the end. lmao ..

all this needs is magnus, jace and izzy in the background like

robert: cheats on his husband and gets someone knocked up

robron/robert stans: god robert does ONE (1) wrong thing and he get’s VILIFIED FOR IT like why do the haters HATE robert? this is terrible writing so ooc

any female character directly involved with robron: breathes

robron/robert stans: holy fuck what a bitch here’s a ten page essay on why robert deserves better

anonymous asked:

I have a funny story about discovering Robron and a question for you. It was 2015 and my friends had been talking about an epic love story called Robron for months. When I was visiting them, we watched ED on telly. My first Robron scene was the infamous scrapyard scene. It's safe to say that Robert made quite the first impression that has been hard to shake. I was also pretty concerned about my friends idea of great love after that. But then Robert got shot. 1/3

2/3 and I have always loved murder mysteries. So when Robert was in coma, I had to watch his scenes (which included Aaron) on YT to find out who could be the shooter. And I fell in love with the characters and have been watching since then. It took a really long time to believe in their love though. But to my question. What made Robert say such horrible things to Aaron? Because even today I’d say that I have hardly ever heard anyone to be that gross.

3/3 I mean it’s in character for Robert to say something bad but that was so out of line. Robert told his lover that he finds his scars/body disgusting, he’s with him out of pity, he accused Aaron of murdering Jackson which was a really low blow and he basically told Aaron that he should kill himself, and saying something like that to a person who has tried to do that is just… Although it showed how well Robert knows Aaron but still to use that against someone who you ‘love’ is unforgivable.

anon oh my god that’s… possibly the worst possible first impression you could get oh my godddddd.

to be brutally honest, i hate the scrapyard scene more than any other scene in existence and it did its job of making me root for robert to get shot lmao. which is sort of the point, so no one can say it isn’t effective at its job.

it is… possibly the one thing i have no idea how to talk about. it exists, it was written as part of a larger series of scenes that were there to make us believe that all these people would genuinely want to shoot robert and i sort of… ok, you know what, i’m going by memory here more than rewatching this scene in context so heads up i may be remembering this in a way that won’t actually reflect how i feel when i continue my rewatch (which will be soon, in fairness) but… i appreciate this scene in the sense that i think…

robert has pretty much just said fuck it at this point, he’s lost everything and everyone and he’s in full on self destruct mode and as we know, self-destruct mode for robert is that all his jagged edges come out and he basically works on taking everyone in a thirty mile radius down with him. he knows aaron so deeply so he knows how to hurt aaron, knows where aaron’s vulnerable spots are - aaron who he still has all of this pent up frustration over. aaron who ruined robert’s life by being the person who robert never intended or wanted to fall in love with, but fell in love with anyway.

like…. it’s the fucking worst. robert is at one of his worst points. like. rock bottom for robert is ugly, it’s so ugly. it’s also what gets him into the worst fucking situations. we have here, robert taking everyone down and getting himself shot for it (and obviously now more recently, we have rob dealing with rebecca’s pregnancy as a result of him hitting rock bottom and once again blindly trying to hurt aaron because he had no other way to process his feelings at that point.)

i actually appreciate that part of his characterisation. that part you can’t even paint as ‘not great but it’s ok’. it’s just ugly. it’s not a good quality to have and it’s not something that people should want to see in their faves. but i like it because human beings are ugly, you know? it’s just that usually characters hit a point where they go from 'not perfect but still a good character’ to 'it’s gone too far, no longer a good person’ and that’s when people stop liking characters, which is fair. robert i think slides across that line a number of times but i hardcore relate to that in a really uncomfortable way, so i like it? this is my opinion anyways.

like. it makes robert that bit less ~likeable~ but makes him so much more interesting and human. does that make sense? i don’t know if everyone will agree with me but… you can love a character who you don’t always like. you don’t need to like a character all the time to want to see more of them or understand them. i don’t need to like everything about who robert is for him to be my fave. a hell of a lot of people do not watch tv in this way though, which is fine. again, this is just me.

idk i am genuinely not the person to come to if you want me to explain how robert can treat someone he loves in that way, because my answer is genuinely that i think the dark sides of his character that canonically exist are not good sides and the morally grey parts of him can slide right into genuine immorality and as much as i enjoy delving into why that happens and when that happens and making him more complex human less evil cartoon character, i still don’t have any desire to pretend that some of the shit he does or has done is in any way ok or acceptable and i think that those particular character flaws are horrible. fascinating, but really horrible. i do also find them sort of perversely comforting, though.

in terms of whether or not what robert did is unforgivable… i mean, in real life, yes, but in a soap? depends on how well they write the redemption? there’s very few things a character can’t come back from in a soap (but there are things and it’s important for writers to know the lines, but that’s… another post entirely lmao).

sigh remember when i said i didn’t know how to talk about this 😂 i hate me. ANYWAY tl;dr i would genuinely dislike robert as a person irl but as a fictional character he’s one of the most interesting and fun and dramatic ones i know and i love him. even if sometimes i really don’t like him. i think it’s probably right that he’s so polarising - it all depends on how much you want or need to like the fictional characters you love 😂 also i don’t think this answered your post properly but i don’t know how to get back on track. i’m sorry for the ridiculous word vomit. also i’m still screaming that the first robron scene you ever saw was this one. literally just… incredibly bad luck 😂

fakehappyaaron-deactivated20171  asked:

U may be a heathen but at least we agree on how ugly roberts hair was back in the day

Time to accept me for who I am kc, but that is the worst hair on a man ever. Ngl looks like a fucking Lego clip on, I would rather die than have that back on robert

anonymous asked:

do you realize that the antis go on about you liking robert because you all watch robert do stuff like emotionally manipulate aaron and make it into something romantic or something about "poor robert" and it's very ugly

Actually yall go on about every facet of how we consume and discuss robert.

Like i get anons CONSTANTLY.

Someone on dash today got jumped on a post for making a joke in reference to robert telling emma she was lucky her husband had died so she didnt have hope. It was literally mocking rpb for being ott and it wasn’t acceptable.

Like we cant say or do anything in regards - even if its literally a barely there post about nothing - to robert without one of yall crawling up our ass to shout about how we need to hate Robert and express our feelings about him in previously approved by antis ways.

I cant fucking post anything most days - even untagged - without back to back anons trying to lecture me on the specifics of why im ACTUALLY being lectured and how i need to stay in my own lane as they literally piss and moan about something untagged

And its wild because there’s like 25 of you but you’re dedicated little assholes ill give you that.

Shitty/Lardo Coffee AU

Lardo would never admit it, not to anyone, but she secretly loved working at Annie’s. Pocket change aside, she loved the atmosphere, the camaraderie between herself and the other baristas, even the rough-and-tumble pace of rush hours and exam weeks. She loved coming home from work at the end of the day smelling like coffee beans and spices and fresh-baked goods. She loved when she got opening shifts, so that she could decorate the board outside and the chalk menus on the inside. Whether it’s the standard rainbows and violets and pride flags that are never far from Samwell’s aesthetic or something more seasonal or relevant to current events or whatever, she enjoyed the occasional return to what she loved about art in the first place: making pretty or spooky or eye-catching things that made herself and others happy.

One of the best parts of working at Annie’s, though, was definitely all the creep-tastic people-watching and eavesdropping she got to do. She loved when the tall, solemn jock (Jack, he always said, just loud enough to hear over the noise in the cafe, always leaving a sizeable tip in the Wellie-themed tip jar) came in with the little blond spitfire (Bitty, he always added with a sunny smile that could probably melt even Samwell’s snowdrifts) who was not-so-subtly in love with his friend. (The other baristas had bets about when they’d get together, but Lardo saved her money, planning instead to spend the ten bucks on getting them a cupcake or something when they finally figured it out. She remembered when Jack came in alone. He never smiled that much before. Or, you know. At all.) She loved when the tall black Canadian (Ransom - nickname?) came in with the even taller white loudmouth (Holster - hopefully a nickname too?) and practically finished each other’s sentences. No one knew if they were dating. No one - well, Lardo, at least - cared. They always seemed happy, and that was all that mattered to her. She loved when her fellow barista Farmer’s boyfriend Chowder came in with his friends. She’d actually had a class with Nursey (her last history requirement and his first), so she knew enough to only ever entrust his drink to Dex and to stay well out of their arguments. She wasn’t sure if they were dating, either. It was Samwell. Who ever knew?

She particularly loved when this one guy came in like clockwork at nine every weekday, three every weekend. She knew, objectively speaking, he wasn’t exactly a looker. He had the hair of an eighties rock artist who got lost in a series of back alleys, a pervert moustache, and the kind of lanky, tall frame that screamed “fuckboy” to her well-trained eyes. By all rights, she should at least dislike him on looks alone.

And yet.

There was just something about him that always drew her eyes back to him. She decided it was an artist’s instinct, wondering how the fact to capture the train wreck that was his mop of hair on paper or canvas, when she realized she was thinking just as much about his eyes, and his hands, and his mouth, and so she reconsidered.

So much of it was in the way he moved, she thought. For as much as he looked like the worst kind of Call of Duty douche canoe, he moved like a five-year-old, constantly bouncing from Point A to Point B, then practically vibrating as if he was just dying to get to Point C, and so on. But it was also in his eyes, which never dipped below her chin, or the chins of any of the other baristas on duty. They were good eyes, if a bit plain, but full of light, the kind that she had never been able to translate to the canvas.

And then he came in one day, completely out of schedule, talking animatedly with Jack (before Bitty ever started to come by), and she knew he could not be the asshat she imagined him as. Jack wasn’t smiling, not by a long shot, but Lardo saw in a glance that wasn’t because he wasn’t happy.

By some stroke of fate, though, the entire year she’d been working at Annie’s (excluding the semester she’d spent abroad), she had never worked the cashier the same time as he’d come in, and not for lack of trying. After that fateful unscheduled visit, she’d tried to get her hand in, but she didn’t do the whole cashier thing much anyway, usually mixing drinks because she was the best with proportions (funnily enough, she saw it as similar to mixing paint) and her math skills were not exactly the strongest. Still, she did it sometimes, but never when the guy came in, until one day toward the end of the winter semester of her junior year, when he comes in like clockwork, shaking the snow from his head and glancing around like always, as if he’d never seen the place before.

“What can I get for you today?” Lardo asked politely, trying to keep to her normal levels of monotone so the excitement didn’t get through. She’d heard him speak before, of course - his voice was loud, and he never really made a point to lower it - but she’d never gotten to speak to him herself.

“So that’s what your voice sounds like,” Ugly Hair grinned. “I didn’t know if Jack was lying to me when he said you had one.”

“I’m surprised Jack mentioned me,” she replied truthfully. She knew he was considerate, from the way he’d sometimes pay for Bitty’s drink when the blond was low on cash to the way he always tipped well, but there was a difference between generosity and noticing a barista’s speaking habits. “I take it you’ll want your usual?”

“Of course he mentions you,” Ugly Hair said. “You’re the only barista here other than Farmer who hasn’t tried to hit on him while he was trying to get his coffee. And yeah, medium mocha latte and a croissant. You’re his favorite barista in the history of ever.”

Lardo smiled as Ugly Hair paid. “He’s a favorite of mine around here, too. He has kind eyes, and he’s always polite. And I’m happy he’s finally found someone to make him smile now and again.”

“Who, Bitty? Yeah, the little dude just seems to bring out the best in everybody, I think. He’s really good for Jack, who’s been around so many people who are only interested in the worst.” Ugly Hair scratched his chin and smiled at her. “So am I getting my drink?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lardo cringed and grabbed a medium cup. She was by herself behind the counter at the moment, since it was the between-meal slump, and it always threw off her groove to do everything herself. “Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Let’s go with…The Dread Pirate Roberts, this time,” Ugly Hair decided, and Lardo shot back a grin.

“Aw, your Buttercup waiting for you somewhere?” she asked, scrawling the chosen name on the cup and going to make his drink. She was glad there wasn’t anyone else in the store to pay attention to; this was the most engaging conversation she’d had all week.

“Naw, I just like the idea of being a pirate,” he said. “You got a name yourself?”

“Larissa, but my friends call me Lardo,” she answered, tilting her head at the frown that took over his face.

“They don’t sound like good friends to me,” he muttered, and she turned it over in her head for a second before getting it.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing to do with my weight or anything,” she reassured him. “Although I wouldn’t care if it was, seeing as I am the smallest person I know, and all. Freshman year I had to make a sculpture out of an item of food. Most people chose cereal or whatever, but I made a vivisected pig out of lard. It was pretty extra, so I kind of got a rep out of it.” She was not prepared for the full-bodied laugh that accompanied her story. It shook his entire body, and his face scrunched up in a way that should absolutely not have been endearing.

“Man, that’s insane,” he giggled. “I love it.”

“Thanks,” she answered, handing over his drink and bagged croissant. “Have a good day, Captain Roberts.”

“As you wish, Lardo.”


It became a kind of habit. Every day, if she happened to be working at the same time, he would order and then come talk to her until his drink was out. Politics, art, Marvel vs. DC, literally everything and anything that came to mind. Every day, when she asked for his name, he gave her a different fictional character to put on his cup.

On one hand, she was kind of impressed. He never repeated one, not once in all the time she’d asked; she wondered if he had a list. But on the other hand, she was pissed off. Why didn’t he want her to know his name? Was it really bad, or did he just not want her to ask him out (which she did not do, ever™), or what?

Anyway, with finals and the utter shit art majors have to go through around that time, she didn’t really see him until right before she went home for Christmas Break, and she was completely unprepared when she did. It wasn’t at his usual time, and he came in with all her favorites. Jack and Bitty and Ransom and Holster and Chowder and Nursey and Dex all kind of mobbed Annie’s that Friday afternoon at around five, the once-Captain Roberts (and, most recently, Captain Jack Sparrow) in the midst of the probably buzzed crew. She shot Farmer and March smug smiles as she continued her lazy sweep up of the dining areas. (She’d had to deal with the entire LAX crew, only barely sober enough to stand, just an hour ago. By herself. Fuck the LAX crew.)

As was usual, though, once former Captain Jack Sparrow shouted his order over the noise, he staggered his way in her direction.

“Hey, Lardo,” he slurred, but only slightly.

“What have you been drinking?” she asked, fighting the smile she could feel in her chest. She’s only been gifted with this idiot while drunk once, and it was awesome. He literally did not shut up about how pretty she was the entire time. She didn’t need it, but it was nice to be appreciated. Especially when said appreciation never once approached how “hot” or “sexy” she was. Only “pretty”. She didn’t get a lot of that anymore.

“Tub juice,” he burped.

“Sounds disgusting. I wish I had some,” she sighed, sweeping more straw paper up. “Especially after the week I’ve had.”

“Well, when do you get off?” he asked. “We got more we can save for you.”

“Actually, I’m off in about ten,” she answered, ordering the bubbles in her stomach to settle the fuck down. “If you don’t mind waiting.”

“Course not,” he grinned, giving her a tipsy hug, that, despite her instinctual reaction to flinch away, was actually quite nice. Warm and comforting. “Guys, you mind if Lardo comes back to the Haus with us?” Lardo blinked, not sure where the confusion started. Did he live with those other guys? Since when? And why did the way he said “house” sound different?

When he got pretty much unanimous “hell yeahs”, he grinned back at her. “So it’s settled.”

“Does this mean I get to know your actual name now? Or do I just keep calling your Batman for the rest of time?” she half-joked, half-demanded. She knew his drunk ass would only get one half of it, and she wasn’t particular on which half he picked up;

“Oh! You don’t know my name! Sorry, I always give the barista on duty some kind of crap fake name because I hate my real name and I figured I didn’t want to force any barista who didn’t like swearing into writing my nickname. It’s kind of habit. But yeah, my friends call me Shitty.”

“Shitty.” She stared at him, wondering if the alcohol had messed with his brain.

“Yeah.” He grinned, and she was suddenly thrown back to when she first saw him, ugly hair, ugly beard, ugly fuckboy posture. She grinned back.

“Swawesome.”

5

“Susan, have you seen my sunglasses?”

“Which ones, Robert?”

“The cool ones.”

“The ugly black ones with the yellow lenses?”

“That’s them!”

“You loaned them to Chris, dear.”

“Like that dork is cool enough to pull off a pair of my sunglasses.”

“I don’t think he’s trying to work them, sweetheart. He probably genuinely thinks they’ll block the sun.”

“Poor boy. Remind me to call him and get them back before he does himself a mischief.”

[RDJ Advises Chris Evans On His Life Choices]

(Thanks eragonsaphira for the top four pictures. Found that bottom one myself. :D)