#he is a dumb himbo

[tightjeansjavi]

Geta is a dumb lil himbo and anyone who disagrees can argue with a wall! Bro thinks calligraphy is a COUNTRY—a fucking country I—

(an idiot with baby cow eyes! Somebody stop him!)

[sir-walton-goggins]

[manwrre]

*regulus finally tells evan about his crush on a particular gryffindor*

evan: so is it lupin?

regulus: no……i like james.

evan: …….potter….? he’s kinda fucking dumb, don’t you think?

regulus: he’s not d- listen, he’s hard to read. he’s mysterious.

evan: i don’t think he can read.

regulus: you never know what’s going on inside his head!

evan: i don’t even think he knows what’s going on inside his head…

[bottombaron]

So, I'm going to either make this joke more or less funny by explaining it, Colin Robinson-style:

Nandor isn't being an idiot by misspelling 'knowledge', he's spelling it phonetically.

Why? Well, it's probably not just that English is a horrendous abomination sent by god to punish us and an even worse trail for English learners either, but Persain is a (mostly) phonetic language!

This means each letter has a corresponding sound and words are phonetic in spelling (again, for the most part), unlike 'knowledge' in English where there are like...at least three?? unnecessary extra letters.

So, what's the phonetic spelling of 'knowledge' look like?

nolij

[vllergy]

strawberry scones

s/tar/d/ew v/alley, 2.6 k, s/am allergy fic my farmer has the fetish because i said so, sam/seb/farmer are some kind of polycule also because i said so sorry to call u out directly but just want to note the text messages and dynamics are directly inspired from @bestwhumpist's fics because i'm obsessed with the way you write the 'one partner with the kink and everyone else around them' dynamic and you inspire me xoxoxoxoxoxoxo ty

goblin destroyer + milo abigail: r we still practicing today?? seb: we were supposed to…. abigail: ???  seb: sam might still be dying sam: IM GOOD! IM FINE! i took my allergy meds sam: we’re still on >:|  seb: uh huh sam: im serious! im much better sam: 4pm at my place be there or be lame sam: milo, you in? c: 

The glare from the sun made the surface of his phone near impossible to read at first. Angling his hat forward, Milo let the brim cast a shadow over the screen until the group chat became legible. And when it did, his throat immediately went dry. Nervous heat fluttered in his chest despite the still crisp early spring air and his thumbs became clumsy as they hurried to type back a response. 

milo: you know it!!! i’ll bring snacks

He was about to pocket his phone and resume tending to the bed of soil in front of him when another message came through. A private one, outside the group chat. Milo swiped back to read it and his heart dropped into his stomach.

sebastian: ur so fucked lol 

Upon first arriving, it seemed as though Sam’s insistence on his own well-being was actually genuine. He greeted Milo at the door with clear eyes and a beaming, slightly crooked smile. Feeling like a delinquent for doing so, Milo gave a cursory glance at his nose and found it not even the slightest bit red or raw looking. He tried to temper his disappointment in favor of relief. This was good, actually. If Sam’s allergy meds really were doing their job, this was going to be a lot easier for him to sit through.

Sam threw a lean, muscled arm around Milo’s shoulders and guided him inside. He smelled like fresh laundry and sunshine and was already talking a mile a minute. 

“I think you’re really gonna like the new stuff, Sebastian’s been working on some lyrics that really brought the whole ting together--” he glanced at the tote Milo had clutched under his arm, “Oh shit, you really did bring snacks! I could kiss you, dude.”

They entered Sam’s room—always surprisingly clean for a man so full of boundless energy—and Abigail snorted. 

“Ugh, save it for when I leave,” she muttered, “The three of you can make out on your own time.”

Milo blushed dark red, the freckles on his cheeks nearly dissolving into the pools of color as the heat crawled up his face. Just as his step faltered, Sebastian appeared at his side and snaked an arm around his waist. He pulled Milo free of Sam’s golden aura and cocooned him in his own: velvety and dark and every bit as distracting.

“It was a figure of speech, jeez,” Sam’s cheeks went a little pink too, much to Milo’s delight. The blonde palmed the back of his neck sheepishly while he kicked off his shoes. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Milo caught Sebastian smirking. He never quite knew where the lines between them all existed. He and Sebastian were dating, he was pretty sure of that. But Sam and Sebastian had a thing all of their own too. And for their part, Milo and Sam always seemed to get tongue-tied around one another, a phenomenon Sebastian relentlessly encouraged. 

The only one who could clock all of them from a mile away seemed to be Abigail, who rolled her eyes and snatched the tote away from Milo before retreating back to the couch with it. Cracking open the lid made the room fill with the sweet scent of fresh baked scones. Abigail’s eyes went wide.

“Milo, you outdid yourself,” she gasped.

Milo, who’d just stopped blushing started right up again, and raked a hand through his dark curls.  

“It’s a new recipe.”

“Oh hell yes! Gimme one!” 

Sam darted past and snatched one out of the bin, jamming nearly half of a scone into his mouth with glee. Both Sebastian and Abigail rolled their eyes, but Milo merely watched with unmasked affection. Sam never did anything elegantly. It was all wide-toothed grins, exaggerated movements and unapologetic mirth.

By contrast, Sebastian was more delicate about the whole ordeal. Taking a scone for himself, he held it between his long, pale fingers and inspected the glaze. His dark eyes flickered to Milo.

“Strawberry?” he asked.

Milo nodded, “Picked this morning.” 

Sam had already demolished his first and was onto his second as he stooped down to his guitar case. Scone in mouth, he snapped the latches with his hands and shook hair out of his face like a dog. Milo’s chest squeezed. So cute.

En route to the keyboard, Sebastian stopped and placed a soft kiss on Milo’s cheek. “Thanks, farmer.” His hand strayed to his hip as he passed and pinched at the bone playfully. Milo almost yelped but managed to keep his reaction from emerging. 

He whirled an accusing gaze on Sebastian who merely gave a pointed look over at Sam who now held a half-eaten scone in one hand and was furiously rubbing at his nose with his other.

—

Abigail used to joke that Milo was a captive audience for these practice sessions. But the truth was, there was nowhere in the world Milo would rather be. As music filled the room, Milo sank back into the old couch Sam had dragged in and pushed against the wall.

He couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and he’d never learned to play an instrument, so the best he could offer was a pair of listening ears for Goblin Destroyer’s new material. He tended to think everything they did sounded great, but he at least pretend to offer varying opinions. He mostly just liked being a part of it all. Plus, watching both Sebastian and Sam in their element had a kind of hypnotizing power over him. 

Unfortunately, not hypnotizing enough to distract Milo from the losing battle happening before his eyes.

Sam turned his head against his shoulder and rubbed his nose against his shirt. With both hands occupied by his guitar, it seemed to be his only option, and one made effortlessly casual at that. It was over and done with in a second, having not missed a beat for his efforts, and it seemed Milo was the only one who’d noticed. It could have been a fluke. 

But of course it wasn’t. 

A few moments later, Sam sniffed hard. The sound was lost behind the music but Milo could see it happen clear as day. The bridge of his nose crinkled a few times and then the tip wriggled as he tried to assuage an itch without actually scratching it. Milo squirmed on the couch, wondering what it might be like to help him. To reach up and rub his nose for him while he played, or run his fingers along the bridge of his nose to try and coax out— 

Sam sneezed without warning. A tightly controlled thing, just one bob of his head and a brief shuttering of his expression. It was impossible to say if he’d made any sound or not given the volume of the music, but Milo doubted it. For as inelegant as Sam could be, he’d been suffering from his allergies for long enough that he’d gotten good at suppressing them. Normally he didn’t bother, at least not around them, but Milo supposed these were different circumstances. There was a certain veneer of professionalism here.

Sam sniffed hard enough to wrinkle his nose again and continued playing, unbothered. But Milo knew where this was going. And he was certainly bothered. 

Sam’s fingers never missed their mark on the neck of the guitar as his eyes fluttered and his head snapped forward once, twice, and then a third time with completely suppressed sneezes. His mouth was shut in a tight line, his expression pinched. He shook his head after the third as if to clear the sensation and arched his shoulder to wipe under his nose as he played. 

Milo felt the room turning to molasses around him. Heat crawled up his throat. Worse still, Sebastian had caught that last outburst. A tiny smirk played on the keyboardist’s pale features as he continued to play, his eyes flashing almost wickedly as he met Milo’s gaze. 

His expression seemed to say Told you. 

There were a few moments of peace. Milo tried to will himself not to look at Sam again but his eyes were pulled there like a magnet. He could tell the fit was getting away from him. Sam’s eyes closed and this time his hands paused their rhythm on the guitar as the tickle distracted him. He tilted his head toward the light, a lock of blonde hair falling limp across his forehead, and then whipped to the side after a brief pause. 

“—tiiew!” 

Milo only caught the tail end of the sound over the music, and the resounding-undoubtedly wet-sniffle was swallowed up by Sam falling seamlessly back on beat. He blinked a little groggily as he continued playing. Then, he must have noticed Milo staring, because he grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders at him. 

That slight acknowledgement of it all went right to Milo’s dick. He somehow plastered on what he thought was a convincing smile in return and then had to cross his legs. His heart began jackhammering in his chest. Fuck, was he really about to have to sit here while this happened? Maybe he really was a captive audience.

Sam struggled in vain to keep playing but his nose had other ideas. Surrendering to the tickle, his hands went slack against the instrument again and his upper lip curled over his canine. Milo couldn’t hear the uptick of his breath but he could imagine it well enough, watching the plane of Sam’s chest swelling against his t-shirt. Hh—hh? Hh?

Sebastian stopped playing. And the pause between Abigail’s drumming was just long enough for the first, clear sneeze to strike through the room crystal clear.

“h’h’JIISHZSHh’huu!” Sam gripped the neck of his guitar and angled away from it. Milo couldn’t tell if he was worried about sneezing near it or just using it as a point of stability. He gasped and let his head snap forward with a second, wet, “hh’tiiISChiew!” 

Abigail stopped playing too. Silence descended, to which Sam quickly shook his head. He turned to the others even while his head bobbed between sneezes, eyes struggling to open during the quick cadence.

“N-no, don’t—nNNCH!—stop, I’m—hNGT!—fiii-nnGXT!—hGNT!—I can keep—tschh! TSCH! Going!”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, you sound like it.”

“You know when you hold them in like that it only just makes it worse,” Abigail scolded him.

Milo felt like the walls were closing in on him. He quickly angled himself towards the arm of a couch and placed one of the pillows on his lap as strategically as he could. 

Sam lifted the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth as he geared up for another. “h’Hsshhh-ue!!”  "Bless you," Milo said, his mouth dry.

“I thought you took your allergy meds,” Sebastian sighed.

Sam remained under the cover of his shirt, eyes cinched shut. He gasped wildly and ducked down, “HHh’uPSCHh’ue!” A watery, pathetic sniff followed and Milo could think of nothing else besides the wet mist most likely spraying his own chest. 

As Sam emerged, his nose was pink, nostrils an angry shade and twitching. “I did,” he groaned, “God, I fucking hate sp-sprhiing.” 

Lifting up his shirt again, he pinched the fabric around his nose and shuddered into another, “hh’eSCHh!” 

Milo couldn’t help but notice the slight spot of dampness now forming on the shirt. "Bless you," he said again, trying to keep his voice steady. His eyes were apt to roll back into his head if he wasn’t careful.  "Thagks," Sam sniffed hard.

“Maybe sit this one out,” Sebastian suggested as Sam pawed at his nose, “Abby and I are the ones who have to learn the run anyway.”

To anyone else, it might have sounded like something a concerned friend might say. But Milo could hear the edge of playfulness to it. The slight lilt of teasing that was meant for him, and only him as Sam nodded glumly, shrugged out of the strap of his guitar and made his way over to the couch. 

Milo stiffened, eyes going wide. Sam flopped back, completely oblivious, one arm going behind him around the back of the couch. He dropped his head back, gave a liquid sniffle and groaned. Milo could feel the heat of his arm near his shoulders and chewed on the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood.

“Just don’t sneeze all over Milo,” Sebastian warned. 

Milo gave him a desperate look. It must have been really desperate, because Sebastian even laughed and managed to appear a little apologetic. 

“Or the scones,” Abigail added.

Sam gave them both the finger even while turning his face to the side and half-stifling into the open air. The frame of the couch shook softly and his knee brushed against Milo’s as he released it. “hH’NGXtssh!”  He groaned and shifted back. Sam hardly ever looked grumpy, but he was absolutely pouting now. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but his arm quickly retracted from behind Milo so he could lean forward. He ducked beneath the safe haven of his shirt again, head dropped and hair falling over his brow as he buried his nose into the fabric. "hh'tscHH!! hhi'zESHhhiyew!"

Milo instinctively reached for him, his hand smoothing over his spine. Sam startled at the sudden contact and bit down the next series of sneezes seemingly on instinct, folding into himself further with each quick set.

"hH'nNNT! nnGSST! nnGXCH!"

"Sorry!" Milo said hurriedly, retracting his arm.

Sam tried in vain to shake his head through and speak through the last of the tickle, "No, my ba-haa'aSScHIEW--bad! Sorry, hh'tssch!--fuck! There."

He'd thoroughly soaked the front of his t-shirt now. Sniffling wetly behind the cover of it, he lifted his gaze with no small amount of bashfulness. A hoarse, weak laugh escaped him. "Bless you doesn't seem to cover it," Milo said, breathless for entirely different reasons.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam continued to apologize, sluicing the moisture from his nose with his shirt.

"Do you not own tissues?" Abigail balked. "My house, I can sneeze where I want," Sam sniffed again before standing up and unceremoniously stripping out of his sodden shirt. Milo blinked, stunned, and could do nothing but stare at the lean muscle on full display as Sam walked towards his dresser. Sebastian cleared his throat and when Milo caught his eye, he was practically grinning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him look so happy. Milo sank further into the couch and forced his eyes to the floor. "Okay, I think the worst's over," Sam declared as he grabbed a fresh shirt. Though Milo caught his profile just as the telltale hitch of his breath followed the statement. "Hh? Hh!"

His long, blonde lashes fluttered as turned to the side, eyebrows lifting in expectation. Milo watched his bare shoulders swell softly as he inhaled, muscles along his ribs flexing. Sam sniffed and seemed to ignite the tickle fully, directing one last tired sneeze towards his elbow. "hH'tishew!"

The exhausted nature of it did something irrevocable to Milo. His mind went completely blank as Sam sniffled through tossing his new shirt over his head and eventually returned to his guitar.

Music started up again but Milo barely heard it. He was lost completely, shoving strawberry scones in his mouth one after another to have something to focus on other than Sam's delightfully pink nose.

[silverfoxphil]

dan is high key a gym rat it’s not even funny! phil doesn’t like to exercise a lot unless it’s running on the treadmill or using the elliptical because it’s ‘lazy’ exercise (for lack of a better term) so he can turn his brain off and watch real housewives while exercising. dan has been exercising for ages. he’s been running pretty regularly i believe for years and phil’s tried joining him on runs a couple of times when phil considers taking up running but it never works out because phil tries talking a lot. dan goes to cycling classes and lifts weights and i’m sure does more but the guy is fit. he is unironically a gym bro drinking his protein shakes going on runs and phil is supporting from the sidelines because of his delicate nature.

i never thought about it like this until they started talking about it, but yeah you're absolutely right, he is kind of a gym bro, the signs were all there lol. i need him to be able to transport phil everywhere, he shouldn't be walking tbh you wouldn't make god walk

[wrathofrats]

do you think pebble would cook popcorn over alpha or literally any other ghoul to any fire ghoul like that

I think pebble will throw popcorn kernels at alpha till he gets mad enough that they pop immediately upon hitting him. He likes to record how long it takes. The lowest record is 7

He also gives ifrit bags of popcorn and tells him he needs to shake them vigorously to pop them but he needs to be careful because of the butter so he should take his shirt off (pebble wants to see his tits bounce and ifrits dumb enough to believe whatever he’s saying)

[eywaseclipse]

Pretty much.

[tittyblade]

okay ive been thinking.

rb with your answer + what your interpretation of barbie/ken is

[rappihahh]

Doing another poll!! This time is about something similar to the last one I did but with a more fun purpose (at least imo :^)

Which one of the trio is your favorite and why?

The reasons can be optional. You don't need to add them if you wanna.

My main goal on this is just to interact more with others and to know why some like these silly whimsical fellas, is it their personality, is it because of comfort, is it because you relate to them, is it because you have a silly crush on one of them (not judging you :]) or just for no reason! It's always fun to see people loving a character :>

[mrshargreeves]

i can’t believe this man has a degree in neuroscience and all he plays are dumb himbos

[luna-the-cretar]

I know we like to joke about Marius being an awkward himbo that doesn’t know how to flirt—and he is, to some extent—but also like. No?

Like, he used his looks and flirted with the High Inquisitor in order to get the information he needed, as well as distracting her to let the party get to where they needed to be without her noticing them. And he was smart enough to go about it so that he found all this information and such without ever having to sleep with her.

Like, sure, stats wise he’s not incredibly intelligent or charismatic, but character-wise he’s not lacking either. Remember, he was a knight (idk how high he was on the totem pole, but considering his quest and relationship with Victor, it’s probably fairly high), and was very close to the king (which he confirmed in canon that his relationship with Victor allowed him to participate in some royal events as a guest). So he’s not some stupid awkward himbo that I’ve seen some fics portray him as, and it annoys the piss out of me.

[theghostavocadoe]

Loz is the textbook definition of a Himbo but idk if y'all are ready for that conversation

[vengeful-horde-of-angry-ghosts]

I AM VINDICATED! GIDEON IS NAIVE AND NOT USED TO PEOPLE AND A TOTAL DUMBASS BUT SHE IS NOT STUPID!!!

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 61

Was talking back and forth with @bakewrite in the comments of my other prompts and this idea popped into my head and won't leave me alone I think @thedemonofcat did a similar prompt to this, about Geralt buying a book about caring for your companion (dog)? Can someone link that to me if they find it lol Geralt walks into a bookstore, and asks if they have anything on how to care for bards. The bookstore clerk has bad hearing, and mistakenly thinks this witcher is looking for a guidebook on how to care for birds. He has a copy of one, so he hands it over in exchange for a reasonable amount of coins, he thinks. Geralt meanwhile is pretty sure he was ripped off. Some of this stuff doesn't sound right.. But he doesn't know enough about normal humans - let alone BARDS - to truly disprove of anything. Some of it makes sense. It recommends to not clip their wings, unless their reckless flight could end up in them being injured. Geralt understands that one. He agrees, in a way. He would never restrict his Bard's freedom, but sometimes he must deny his bard a sexual conquest or party he wants to attend, in order to keep him safe from something or someone. Not even mentioning all the times a hunt is so dangerous he has to keep Jaskier safe at the inn, much to Jaskier's chagrin. It also recommends to feed them fresh fruits along with their seed. It must mean to give them some healthy vitamin-filled fruit alongside bread and other grain based foods, right? All of these sound well and good, but then there's also a chapter explicitly stating that albeit they love touch and petting, you mustn't touch their backs, or else they'll get aroused. Geralt has touched Jaskier's back along the years, he should've known better than to make Jaskier uncomfortable. But Jaskier never seemed angry? In fact, he seemed to enjoy whenever Geralt touched his b- Oh gods, Jaskier LIKES when he touches his back! But page 202 says you aren't to let them like when you touch their back! It also says not to let them be attracted to you, but Geralt wouldn't actually mind if his bard was attracted to him- He shouldn't keep thinking along this path. Its dangerous. It says they like shiny, colorful, and easy-to-destroy enrichment items, but Geralt's bard must be special, in that Jaskier loves shiny things and colorful things, but would prefer things to stay together. Then again, some of his clothing WAS quite delicate... They're very clean, they enjoy baths, and they love to preen. Yes, yes, he already knows this. Sometimes they bite when stressed? Odd, Jaskier hasn't bitten him when stressed. Perhaps he's one of the more docile bards... Bards more unruly than Jaskier... Now that's a terrifying thought. Jaskier starts mumbling in his sleep, and Geralt sets aside his book, tucking it into his bags. He'll hold onto his bard now, and finish his book tomorrow night.

[newtyboyyy]

Thomas likes to tell himself that he’s the one who opens the doors for Newt in their relationship—and he really tries!

In reality though, Newt ends up opening all the doors because Thomas always gets stuck pushing a “pull” door and vice versa.