#what a fuckin dick

[frnkiebby]

it’s really fucking rude of him honestly to be pretty like this~🎃

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Realizing Dick Grayson is just some guy™ is the worst thing that ever happened to Tim drake.

[extra-somethin-somethin]

If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)

[breadandblankets]

something I think u have to do if you make everyone else in the batfam a meta/magic user/bender/special abilities haver of some variation is make Duke the inverse

listen he's the only meta right? the only one with powers? if you make everyone Else have powers than what's his schtick??

(I mean other than being a genius teen activist and hero well in his own rights before Batman even sneezed in his direction but you and I both know no one cares about that -_-)

its about the Contrast okay

[batbaffle]

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Stop calling it everlark. It's PEENISS.

[Insert photograph of josh hutcherson making a 😐 face while holding a "WE ❤️ PEENISS" sign here]

I didn't Google for this image on incognito. I am a fool

[mossfrg]

Lost Talon au 3/?

Imagine Jason’s reaction to Dick being brought back. Like, Jason was the Robin right after Dick died— he had the biggest shoes to fill, coming immediately after the original. He was constantly trying to live up to the standards Dick unknowingly set. After he nearly died by the Joker’s hand and made his own identity, Jason felt more comfortable with himself and out to bed his worries.

But then Dick comes back, and he comes back wrong.

Jason had always privately hoped that one day this older brother would appear and take the reigns for him. The he would get to meet The Dick Grayson, have that man as an older brother.

Instead, Jason is still the oldest, and now has to deal with a half-brainwashed (non-consensually!!) genetically modified 18-year-old almost assassin who’s 12ish years out of place. What the fuck. He did not sign up for this.

Tim feels much the same way. He’s older than Dick, and that’s not something that should’ve ever happened. Tim remembers seeing Dick at galas, remembers his warm tanned skin and bright blue eyes when he’d smile. Remembers being taught how to do a flip and a cartwheel by a boy who claimed to fly from chandeliers. Remembers a kind older boy sneaking him into the gardens when things got too loud and he was so young and couldn’t handle the way his parents looked at him but this older boy was giving him the time of day-

And now that boy is younger than him. Blue eyes replaced by cold, unflinching gold. Skin still tan, but paler with a gray tint to it; black veins crawl up his throat and down his arms. He’s cold to the touch. He’s still kind, but much more hesitant in showing that softness; more likely to flash his claws than return a gentle hug. And that’s not to mention the wings, over 20ft of feathers and muscle tucked between his shoulders (he still perches on chandeliers though).

Damian had never met the First Son his Father had taken in. He’s heard countless stories of the brave, kind, caring, innocent child who creates the Robin mantle. Who didn’t kill, who made jokes, who was kind and sweet and friendly. Damian, unlike the other two, didn’t worry about living up to Grayson, but to living up to the innocent he brought. How could Damian ever be a good Robin when his hands were stained with blood?

But then Grayson, Richard, had been found. And he had blood on his hands. Less so than Damian himself, of course, and less than even Todd or Drake. But still. It was blood. And he’d gone under much the same training Damian himself had. The First Robin, trained and bloodied like Damian. Who took one look at Damian wearing his family’s name and colors and beamed for the first time since they’d brought him home, wings extending to wrap around him as he cooed, who’d heard that Todd and Drake had also shared the mantle and dragged them into the hug too, proclaiming them family and his flock, “or colony if you really want to stick with the bat theme, B, but I think it’s telling that 4/4 of your sidekicks went with a bird theme, maybe you should think of being Birdman-“

Richard Grayson, who despite everything, still managed to be himself after 12 years. Damian thinks it gives him a little hope and privately, thinks that if Richard can be so good after what he’s been through, there’s a chance Damian can be good too. Not that he’s ever say that aloud; he’s the Blood Son after all, even if Richard was the First Son.

[aces-to-apples]

Frankly I think Alistair being mildly shitty to that mage in Ostagar seems pretty in-character for the guy he is before the massive, life-altering trauma that is the Ostagar massacre wherein he sees all of his Grey Warden comrades, his beloved mentor/father figure, and his beloathed half-brother/convenient-target-of-projection absolutely torn to shreds by literal Thedas boogeymen. IIRC Morrigan and Flemeth both comment on his wack behavior after Ostagar and then by the time we get to Lothering Alistair just fully surrenders any and all responsibility (and, frankly, agency) to the player's Warden for the foreseeable future. It can then take anywhere from a couple IRL hours to the entire second act of the game for him to retake almost any amount of it back. And depending on the player's choices in dialogue, and especially whether or not they choose to romance him, we may only see flashes of that guy we met at Ostagar before he potentially morphs into almost someone else entirely (hardened!King!Alistair). All that to say, I don't actually think it's a useful criticism of "characterization" to bring up Alistair's glibness as compared to his behavior in the majority of the game because from where I'm standing (looking directly at his snottiness about Cailan, his complaints about being assigned to the Tower of Ishal, his Templar-esque focusing on Morrigan and Flemeth being apostates, his generally pretty brusque manner with the Warden recruits) it seems fairly in-line with the rest of his behavior at Ostagar.

[gregoftom]

pretty sure i’ve seen romance movies with scenes like this

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN (TO GET SPLATTERED) OOH MYSTERY! PANIC! DRAMA! EMOTIONS!! LOTS N LOTS OF MEAT, SCARES, AND DICK-OUT FUN! BLOOD IN THE BAYOU HAS GOT IT ALL BABY!!!

blood in the bayou would make SUUUCh a great campy horror movie, its real in my heart, so real.....

[anotherpapercut]

I know several people who like LOVE seasons 5-7 (11th doctors run) and think the storylines and moffats writing are brilliant and I don't get it!!! what am I missing??? why does literally every single episode have the exact same stakes: Rory/Amy/the doctor is dead. forever. so dead. but wait!!! what if they aren't!!! why do so many of the explanations for why they're not actually dead feel so rushed like they were added at the last minute!! why does every single queer character act kind of weird and awkward about being queer!! why does the doctor casually say that women are inferior when no one's around!!! what the fuck!! hello!!!

[stevethehairington]

MOBY DICK MAY HAVE BEAT THE BOAT BUT I FUCKIN BEAT MOBY DICK JFC LONGEST BOOK EVER

[fatheroffdensen]

can i get a hell yeah for whatever the fuck gender knubbler's got goin on

[something-about-sunflowers]

I want some happy in the Izzy tag so.

Jack is gonna propose to Izzy, he wants to do a whole big thing about it, practically planning a flash mob, but he doesn’t cause he knows Izzy would hate it with all the attention on him.

So he plans quieter, take him to his favorite vegan restaurant, slip the ring in his food or his drink, but then, he can’t go with that either because Izzy is so particular about his food since he’s got all those stomach issues and Jack doesn’t want to send him into an anxiety spiral about where his food’s been.

So he plans gentler, movie marathon night at home, bunch of those sappy romantic movies they both pretend they hate, he’ll tell him ‘hey I got you something extra special with all the snacks’ and pull out the ring box. Yeah. He’ll go with that one. He puts in a request for the day off, pulls out all their super comfy blankets and washes them to make sure they’re extra fresh. Plans a little menu and goes shopping, so excited he’s dancing in the aisles.

The morning before and Jack wakes up to Izzy making breakfast, all the stuff he can’t eat but he knows Jack likes, god he loves him. He gets up, heads to the kitchen presses a big, lip-smacking, kiss to Izzy’s temple and fixes Izzy’s coffee before sitting down to the plate Izzy’s already prepared for him. He’s got the fork halfway to his mouth when Izzy slaps something down on the table.

Jack blinks. Blinks again.

Fuck.

Its the ring box. How did Izzy find it? Jack was keeping it in his truck! Izzy never went in his truck without him, he didn’t even drive! Shit! Could he still save this? Maybe he could-

Wait.

That’s not his ring box. The one he’d bought was a nice, dark green, velvet. This one is a sleek, tan leather. He looks up at Izzy, who is leaning back against the counter, arms crossed tight against his chest, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

‘Well?’ He, honestly, kinda demands in that snappy tone of voice he gets when he’s trying to pretend like he’s not more nervous than a balloon in a needle factory. ‘Are you gonna fuckin’ say “yes” or not?’

A grin splits Jack’s face. He feels about fit to burst himself, how happy he is.

‘Lemme run to my truck real quick.’

[docholligay]

Just took a call from the optometrist I'm supposed to see Friday, telling me I am going to see a "remote optometrist" which means a bunch of whatever the human eye version of vet techs are, are going to do the exam, and a doctor who has a license but does not live here is going to 'sign off on it'

Me, after saying an extremely polite version of 'Are you fucking shitting me": So, is it cheaper?

Her: Well, you're grandfathered into the retinal camera being included, and with the toric exam, and you don't have insurance, so, it's actually still going to be $178 out of pocket.

Me, internally: That's a lot of fuckng words for 'no'

Me, externally: So you're tellin' me it's the same price to see a doctor, or not see a doctor?

Her: ...yes.

(I ended up telling her to book me out into November and if he'll extend my prescription so I can get some contacts and MAYBE some new glasses (Please!) for the UK, that's fine, if not, I'm leaving and shopping this because "I'm sorry but this a bridge for me, you know what I mean" )

[aeoris4lovers]

i know bazzoxan is supposed to be a place that most people fled because of the demons, but personally, i choose to imagine that it's still way more populated than it should be because its residents are equal parts infuriatingly stubborn and batshit fucking insane. just think about it:

people from elsewhere in xhorhas having the same visceral reaction to headlines about bazzoxan residents that we have to the words "florida man," and dynasty parents threatening to send their kids to bazzoxan when they misbehave.

locals telling visitors dropbear-style stories about the demons they might encounter (which absolutely do not actually exist) just to freak them out, because why deny the rumors that the town is constantly overrun with demons when they could have fun with leaning into it instead?

religious leaders and worshipers who openly give placatory offerings to betrayer gods and demon lords alongside the luxon and other gods/beings without persecution or even judgment, because no one's going to argue over the philosophy of it when the utility is so clear.

on that note, a general tolerance for religious deviations that most members of the dynasty would call heresy and mock or punish, because being so far from the seat of the theocracy and so deeply embroiled in a conflict that no amount of faith will solve makes it difficult to care much about how others choose (or refuse) to worship.

an abundance of abyssal tiefling children and low-level warlocks in pacts with demons, because in a place where demonic presence is so concentrated near where people are living, of course more of those people will be touched by it.

teenagers sneaking past the guards and into betrayer's rise to drink or smoke or make out or stay the night on a dare or leave graffiti or haze a newcomer to their group or just try to fuck with the demons the way kids at a sleepover might play with a ouija board.

wild conspiracy theories circulating about what's really down in betrayer's rise and what caused it, from "the demons aren't real at all" to "they were intentionally unleashed by a spy posing as one of the original miners to sabotage the town" to "the empire planted them to use up military resources".

extreme circumstances leading to more extremist sentiments weaving through the town – survivalists who insist on preparing for a catastrophic incursion exponentially more deadly than even the worst so far and zealots who claim that one such grand incursion will kickstart an apocalypse of calamity-level proportions, secessionists who insist the town should leave the dynasty entirely and insurrectionists who encourage more drastic action against a political hierarchy that they feel has failed to properly address the gravity of the town's situation.

legends and ghost stories about what happens to people who go down into the tunnels – how they might be trapped or transformed by it, or what the demons might use them for – that are used to scare children into not running off alone or told around fires just for the thrill of the fear.

numerous research outposts from knowledge-seeking groups across exandria, most with research groups at least a dozen scholars strong living there year-round to do their work, and at least one relatively high-level wizard there to study the abyssal magic out of personal interest, all of whom are given protection on their trips into the tunnels in return for presenting their findings (and any solutions those findings reveal) to the military.

tons of drow who finally figured out sunscreen and sunglasses and other sun protection, because everyone knows none of the rich wizard fucks in rosohna are going to bother giving them the safety of constant darkness and the town's own mages have far bigger things to spend their arcane reserves on than the sun.

a general sense of casual disinterest and disregard for the brewing war and the politics of dynasty vs empire in general because they live on the defensive side of a very different fight, which is far more real and urgent than a bunch of powerful people's bickering as far as they're concerned.

streets decorated and full of music and laughter on festival days, with all the games and food and other pleasures you would expect anywhere else, including on festival days that only they celebrate, like the anniversaries of famous victories against the demons or improvised events thrown together with the sole purpose of lifting the townspeople’s spirits in harder times.

cuisine specific to the town, known for unique features like its much heavier incorporation of sun-grown crops than most kryn food and its utilization of enough spices to make even demon flesh taste good (a feat that many people living elsewhere would think is impossible, but when you have more access to abyssal corpses than livestock, you learn to make it work).

despite its lack of a true inn (because frankly, very few people ever think to visit), the town having a variety of places to eat and drink and shop and relax and be entertained, because no one needs leisure more than people who live their entire lives on the brink of very immediate mortal peril.

logically, of course it would make sense for people to flee when they realized how dangerous bazzoxan truly is, but are people ever really logical when it comes to their home? how many would truly be willing to leave after devoting themselves to building something there, and how many would insist on staying and adapting and eventually outlasting the demonic presence there?

canon bazzoxan may be a village populated largely by a skeleton crew of military personnel and the people who keep them alive, but the bazzoxan in my heart is a fully populated and improbably lively town full of people with the balls of steel required to live in an abyssal hot spot for the rest of their lives.