#let me talk about this man

[crystallizedday]

Y’all say “hear me out” & just leave it at that

Meanwhile, I am willing to go on a week-long tangent explaining EVERY LITTLE DETAIL on why I adore that stupid fiery wet noodle of a character that I love so much like it’s a god damn grad school dissertation.

I WILL do it.

Give me the word & I will tell you all IN DETAIL everything I love about this man.

I WILL DO WHAT YOU ALL ARE TOO SCARED TO DO

OVER EXPLAINING IS MY FAVORITE HOBBY, & I WILL SUBJECT YOU ALL TO IT!!

I've been seeing alot of hear me out cakes so I've decided to make my own

[zenruu]

if you're still boiling a character as complex as alistair down to anything along the lines of: himbo, idiot, soft baby without an idea of his own, haha funny cheese man i'm straight up burning your house down with lasers and sending you directly to hell.

if you genuinely believe that man is stupid, all you're doing is admitting that you yourself cannot see beyond the incredibly transparent veil he wants to put over your eyes.

what he is is insecure, and he wants you to think he's stupid so that he doesn't have to live up to expectations he fears he won't meet. shortly after meeting him you can call him out on using humor to deflect and make himself smaller and he ADMITS IT.

he repeatedly shows you just how intelligent he is and how aware of the ways of the world he is. his history knowledge, his understanding of the chantry and its control of templars and mages that goes far beyond nearly anyone else we as the player speak with, his emotional intelligence when it comes to understanding others' intentions and needs... and this is just a thoughtless little post with quick examples i conjured up in five minutes! i'm not even doing a deep dive here! how do so many people miss all of this?

this is not advanced reading of subtext, it's incredibly simple and i'm completely unsure how people don't understand this about him.

he's such a great character for so many reasons - his flaws being some of those reasons - but a lack of intelligence is simply not one of those flaws no matter how you spin it.

[fisherrprince]

Instead of writing a fanfic like a normal person this oneshot turned into two separate, contextless things,

[yutamayo]

Toji: $20 for an hour

[lvngdnxgallifrey]

Seems Kaeya’s vision has 3 wings on each side now and is a combination of Mondstadtian vision and Khaenri’ah’s 8-pointed star. Except instead of two points there are wings on the bottom part. I’m very normal about it

[egophiliac]

LEON

LEON YOUR EYEBALLS

[ghouljams]

Thinking long and hard about one of the guys being long and hard

You know who has literally the prettiest dick you've ever seen? Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. It's such a perfect length, bigger than average but also proportionally thick and with such soft skin it feels like you're running your tongue along velvet. Just an absolute a dream to get your mouth on. He keeps well trimmed too, the dark curls around the base cropped short and the balls nicely shaved. He likes seeing you duck down and lick at his sack, running your tongue over the stubbly hair before sucking his balls into your mouth. God, it's such a lovely feeling to have your mouth full of him, your tongue licking at the heavy balls, feeling the way they bunch and the skin pulls taught.

You look up at him through fluttering lashes and he's watching you with his irises swallowed by greedy pupils, his hand moving to rest on your head and pull you closer. You keep flicking your tongue out to lap at the skin you can't get in your mouth, shivering when you lick over the tight pucker of his ass. You have to pull back then, letting his balls pop from your mouth and pressing a final kiss to them before taking his perfect cock in your mouth again. So thick and warm in your hand, heavy when he slaps it against your tongue, slaps it against your cheek with his brows pinched together and a patronizing coo. Fuck he makes you want to stay down here for hours.

[moriaarts]

Omega and Echo reunion at the rebel base c:

Saw ppl freaking out that Echo isn’t with the bad batch at the end but i offer you this: Echo is a workaholic and was absolutely the only reason Hunter let Omega go off on her own to rebel.

Echo: Thought I told you to stop growing, tooka.

Omega: As soon as you stop gettin’ old, ruug’jag (old man)

[crepesuzette2023]

Here is a quote I think of every time I see these pictures. "The rumor since has been that I edged [Stuart Sutcliffe] out of the band, because we certainly did have our difficulties. For me, it was mainly because I didn't think he was a very good musician, which he wasn't, and he admitted it. So, for me, that caused problems, because being a—I mean, you could say being a perfectionist, but actually asking the bass player to play in the same key as us isn't really looking for perfection. It's quite a mild request." — Sir Paul McCartney, The Lyrics podcast, "Michelle," April 10, 2024.

[introspectivememories]

im sorry but i choose to believe that tim drake is the most insufferable "my man, my man, my man" girl about bear. he does not shut up about him. steph is cooking smth in the kitchen? oh my man can do that. bear cooks really well. dick triaging some poor victim on an emergency site? oh my man is really good at that. mhmm, bear is on his way to becoming a paramedic. damian building something? oh my man is really good with power tools. have you ever seen him build ikea? it takes him less than an hour. for our anniversary, he built me a coffee table. mhmm isn't he amazing? yeah my man did that. yeah my man, mhmm that's my ma-

[dearabsolutelynoone]

Kate Looking at Anthony

[dirtyassvoiceactors]

Dorian gets offended/jealous Orym is talking about working out with Beau, so he tries to show off, Imogen calls him out on poor execution, so he just walks off to help Caduceus (who also quickly kinda roasts him) kkkkkkk

i need next episode to after Dorian and Orym wakeup together, Orym goes workout with Beau and have competitions, so the whole time is just Orym and Beau showing off to Dorian and Yasha, like doing push ups with them in their back or sm, doing upsidedown pullups

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[kiddokori]

[turtleblogatlast]

Small but significant character moments that I actually really adore are from both the times we see the boys as tots. There is a reoccurrence that happens in both of them that I find so incredibly interesting.

For the turtle tot short, Splinter leaves the boys with weapons. In the short, Raph is the one who suggests they do “what Lou Jitsu would do” and Leo is the one who takes point when Splinter comes back to reprimand them. Leo, in taking point, is the one to defend them and get Splinter off their tails.

And then, in the flashback regarding the Kuroi Yōroi helmet, Raph is the one who grabs and throws “Skully” as a way to replace their missing ball which breaks it into pieces, but Leo is the one who speaks for the group and rushes into action to fix the teapot.

I love this for multiple reasons, but the biggest are how it shows that Raph has always been inclined toward the bold and fun and making the plans to include his brothers in what he loves and believes they’d love, whereas Leo has always been inclined to be the “Face” of the group and shoulder the attention even if it’s potentially negative all while coming up with on the spot attempts to fix the situation.

[witchyafterdark]

— Ominis Gaunt Headcanons; pt. 4

I'd like to believe that should Ominis not meet his untimely death and that he escaped his family's fate, he most likely would have physically flourished.

In the game, he looks quite like his namesake. He does have a melancholic, gaunt look. He looks perpetually tired, thinner than Sebastian, borderline having an unhealthily pale complexion, and his overall posture is a little hunched.

He has a defeated look on him.

But I firmly believe that Ominis would grow up to be a healthy man if he made a run from his family. He would be able to focus on himself and regaining (or probably rediscovering) bodily autonomy. He'd be able to eat anything he wanted, focusing on honing his body to become reliable and sturdy. As he's steadily eating well, new weight would fill his once skin-and-bones physique.

Being able to finally sleep better, his exhaustion would slowly dissipate from his ashen face. Color would permanently settle on his now-plump cheeks. Most importantly, he would grow taller and larger, proving to himself that he is capable of transcending his traumatic childhood beginnings.

His build would be strong, putting on a healthy weight for a man his age and height. Ever since gaining a healthier body, he started to straighten his back and fixing his posture. Thus, his now-muscular chest is clearly noticeable. He would be properly filling in his Oxford shirts, and his trousers would no longer look lousy on him. The strength in his arms and legs would be evident without much effort.

But most importantly, he looks and feels happier.

The lightness and ease he would gain from emancipation will make him look younger, looking like his actual age. Nightmares would be a rare occurrence now, and his magic would actually flourish along with him without the constant pressure of performing well for the sake of the family.

(None of the images belong to me. All credits to their respective owners and creators!)