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watsittoyah · 11 months

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Prayers From A Sinner- Dick Grayson x Blk Fem Reader

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Toxic behavior, enemies to lovers? Oral sex, slight rough sex, drug use, violent behavior.

I do want to let everyone know that this story will have dark themes. It’ll be erratic at times and the main characters morals will be tested. There will be foul language and lots of descriptions of acts of violence and other uncomfortable subjects. If those themes aren’t for you, I won’t feel any way about it and you don’t have to continue. But for those who decides to stay and read, thank you, I’ll do my best making this story…interesting and entertaining.

Chapter 1 - Thou Shall Not Kill…

“Dear God, I know we haven’t spoken in ten years, but…I know you listen. Even to sinners like me. I know I won’t make it to those pearly gates but you please please save her. My mothers faith has never wavered, she always speak so highly of you. Just…don’t take away the one person who loves me.” You pray as you knees at the alter.

The sentiments were soon gone when you felt a shadow beside you. You open your eyes and turn to face him. “You shouldn’t be here.” The reverend says glaring at you. You kiss your fingertips and proceed to tell the good lord amen and then you look back at the Reverend.

“What? Can’t sinners come to church and pray too?” You ask in an innocent tone. “You know God won’t be listening to your prayers, you little demon.” He hisses at you which only gets a rise out of you. You rise from off of your knees and lean in.

“Tell me, reverend…do you still get those urges?” His glaring shakes a bit as he knows what you’re asking. “You need to leave, now Miss Price.” He tells you ignoring your question. “Oh but Rev, I was just asking do you still get those urges? Especially when you do communion? Do you get a stiff one when you have the men open their mouths when they eat that cracker?”

“I said get out!” He snaps causing you to laugh in his face. You wipe the tear from your eye and pat his arm. “Don’t worry, Reverend Jones. I was only teasing. But if you ever want to settle those urges you know where to come. I got the best boys that’ll satisfy you better than the misses. Just remember I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink at him and motion for your three body guards to follow you outside of the church.

“Church people are so judgement.” You tell Nathan, your best guy. “That’s why I’m atheist.” You laugh and he helps you down the stairs while Marc gets the truck ready and Jake holds your umbrella.

You stop mid step and sigh. “Hold on, boys. I’ve got company.” You turn and right in the shadows you see him. “I’ll be back.” You pluck the umbrella from Marc and continue down the steps.

“But Miss Price-” You turn to Nathan and give him a look that makes him back down. “I’ll be fine, now don’t hover you know I hate when you do that.” You walk away from him and you walk down the alleyway, and stand in the slight moon light.

“You know you’re not your daddy, Richie Rich. Come out so I can see you.” You say with a slight smirk on your lips. Dick Grayson had stepped out of the shadows but he wasn’t wearing his stupid getup.

No he was dressed differently. Hell he stood differently, and he was more filled out than the last time you saw him. But things change in six years. “What are you doing here, Victoria? I thought it was clear that you were never to come back here in Gotham.”

You cock your head to the side at him. Clearly his attitude hasn’t changed.

“That’s rude, normally when you greet an old friend you ask them how they’ve been and what they’ve been up to.”

“We’d have to be friends for me to ask that.” He steps up close to you and you smile. “Awe, Richie Rich that hurt my feelings. Now kiss my lips and make the pain go away.” You say as you lean in.

But he moves back from you and leans against the wall. “Why are you here?” He asks again. “I have business to take care of here, since you’re so concerned. Now where is Batman? Is he still around?” You ask looking past him.

Dick looks at you and you see the sadness in his masked face. “I heard about your mother. I’m sorry-” You raise your hand and stop him. “Don’t be sorry, people die all the time. It just happens to be my moms name on the reapers list.” You say in a cold tone.

“You know that I can talk to some people. See if she can get better treatment.” You laugh in his face. “What you don’t think I haven’t done that? You don’t think I haven’t tried to buy more time for her? I have thrown enough money at these so called doctors, and all they’ve told me was she has no time! She is dying! And I can’t do a fucking thing for her! You and I both know she doesn’t deserve this, she’s one of the good ones in this dump of a city. And I have to watch her leave me!”

Dick walks over to you and he hugs you as you feel your shoulders shake. “I’m here for you, you know that right, Victoria?” Dick makes you look at him and you give a nod. “I know. I just-I hate crying. God damnit.” You wipe the tears and Dick kisses your head.

“You…you can’t stay here in Gotham. You have too many warrants and you’re a target.” You shake off his embrace and glare at him. “You think I give a fuck about that right now? You insensitive bastard!” You go to slap him but he catches your wrist and he sighs.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I know you’re hurt. I know you want to lash out just to make yourself feel better. But I just want you to be safe. You know I care about you.” He tells you as you oddly become calm.

“If you want me to feel better then, make me feel better. This suit looks good on you. Makes your shoulders look more broad. And you smell good. I bet you still taste good.” You start to press up against him and you cup the front of him making him flustered a bit. “Victoria, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Are you scared of me, Dick? I promise I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t leave bruises like last time. I’ll even let you leave some down my throat.” You press him against the wall and as you go to kiss him he stops you and he holds you still.

“No, I said no and I mean that.” Your eyes get low and you step off. “Fine, I won’t press my luck. I apologize.” You say in a monotoned voice. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk. Maybe we can-” You turn on your heel ignoring him and you feel him follow you. As he reaches out to you, you snatch your arm back and point to the siren noises.

“Superman ain’t here so get to it Robin.” You spit at him as you walk towards your truck. You don’t even look back as you step inside. You just toss the umbrella and glare out the window.

“Marc, take me to Spades. Miss Molly is getting a bit dull and I want to show her off.” You tell him as Nathan and Jake both sit quietly. “Sure thing boss.”

••••

“Watch the doors fellas.” You tell Marc and Nathan as you step into the strip club. You see ass and bare breasts all around. You see a great amount of men, all salivating at the women dancing for them and you yawn. You take off your fur and Jake takes it for you while you walk towards the vip section. You feel eyes on you and but no one catches your attention like he does.

There was something about Dick Grayson that made you get into this mood. You never let your emotions go like this, you were a pro at bottling them up, but old Richie Rich just knew how to break that bottle and make you pour.

You knew he could bring out the best side of you, he could help you with your attitude and you’d be an upright citizen. But why would you want that? You’ve left far too many dead bodies in your wake. And you didn’t want to scrape for pennies ever again.

You’ve made a name for yourself and you liked the fear it invoked in others.

So that is why you needed a distraction, you didn’t want to think about him anymore. So you eyed the male dancers. One had a very large bulge as he moved his hips to the slow yet low base beat song. You two made eye contact and you take a crisp one hundred dollar bill out.

“You’re cute, what’s your name?” He gets on his knees and he crawls over to you. “Nicholas, but you can call me yours, pretty lady.” He accepts the money from you and you smile, looking at his pretty tan skin and his pretty white teeth.

“I think I’ll keep you. You wanna come home with me, Nicky?” His deep brown eyes seems to look a bit panicked and you gently place your well manicured nail under his chin. “Don’t be scared. Trust me, I’m all bark.” You flirt as you stare into his eyes.

His pupils dilate which causes you to smirk. But suddenly you feel someone behind you. “Now this looks like a party.” You smell cheap scotch and you turn, seeing Jake grab the strangers shoulder but you shake your head and he backs off.

“Nicky, go get us a room and wait there for me.” You pass him another one hundred and he gladly takes it and nods. “I’ll be waiting pretty lady.” He leaves off the stage and walks away, you look at his ass and you sigh.

“Come on, baby can’t I watch?” The cheap scotch drinker asks. With a swift move you take out your rose gold beretta that was secured to your thigh under your dress. You placed it under his chin and as soon as he heard the click, he sobered up quite quickly.

“Wa-” You shake your head at him. “I thought you said you wanted to watch? Well I don’t think you’ll want to watch that pretty boy eat my pussy out. I bet you’ll want to watch some girl on girl action? Well let me introduce you to miss Molly. Ain’t she pretty? She packs a mighty blow and I’m sure you’d want to watch that right?”

“N…no. Please don’t kill me.” You raise a brow at him. “I’m really a nice lady, now if I recall I asked you a question. Answer it. Isn’t Molly pretty?” The man stutters out a yes and you smile.

You pat his cheek and rub the barrel against his lips. “I think, everyone should meet Miss Molly. Now stand there and be quiet while I introduce her.” You move the gun from his lips and you shoot three shots in the air, scaring the hell out of all the patrons in the club.

The music comes to a holt and you blow the smoke from your gun. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce my little friend named Molly, and I wanted to reintroduce myself. I am Vic Price. You may have heard of me, and if not then let me remind you who I am. First things first, I am not someone to fuck with. Okay? I will shoot you and then go out for ice cream because I feel like it. Secondly, I know a lot of you in here are my enemies main men, let your bosses know I don’t give a fuck about the targets. I’m out for blood and I’m ready to spill it. And lastly, does anyone know this guy?” You point to the scotch drinker and just about everyone in the place shakes their heads.

“Good, this is a lot easier for me.” Without hesitation you shoot the man in his face and his blood as well as brain matter splatters against the stage. You step up closer to his fallen body and you shoot him in his mouth as well. A few girls scream and a few people scramble to the door but they stop as they see Nathan and Marc.

“Here you go boss.” Jake hands you a handkerchief and you wipe your gun clean and place it back on your person. “Jake you’re the best, and because you are the best please explain to the lovely folks in the room, why I shot that man in his face and his jaw.”

“Miss Price here shot that sack of shit in the face, because she doesn’t want him to be recognized by the Gotham police. And she also shot him in his jaw just so he can’t be identified by his dental records. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Price simply shot him because she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. I don’t know about you lot but I wouldn’t want to fuck with this lady.”

You clap as you laugh. “I love this guy! Now where is the owner of this fine establishment?” You scan the room and Jake points to the chubby man trying to run back stage. “Grab him.” You order.

He moves quickly and grabs the man. “Hey le…let me go!” Jake tosses him at your feet and the man looks up at you scared.

“I don’t want any problems. I respect your father and-” You bend down close to his ear and whisper something only he could hear.

“You know my old man? Please let him know his baby girl is back in town and she’s coming for what she’s owed. And if you don’t tell him, I will shoot your little pecker off and make you eat the rest. Do you understand?”

He nods quickly and you smile. “Good boy. You know what, I’m going to stay in Gotham for a while and I think I’m going to take this place off of your hands. You don’t mind right?”

“I can’t do that-” You stomp your stiletto down on his hand and he gives out a cry. “What was that?” You ask. “It’s yours! It’s yours Miss Price.” You remove your pointed heel and you look back at the crowd.

“Spades is under new management! Ladies and gentlemen all the tips tonight belongs to you. As for the rest of you that have came in to pay? Tip my people well, I’ll be making more change’s tomorrow! Jake, you make sure you keep these people from bothering me. I have a new pet to break in. Oh and one more thing, cut that cheap scotch drinking bastards hands off and drop them somewhere no one can find them.” He smiles wide and nods. “You got it boss.”

You walk down to the vip room and you lean against the door frame as you knock. Nicholas opens the door and he looks spooked. “Were those a gun shots?” He asks as he looks past you.

You place your hand on his toned chest and you move him back into the room. “Don’t worry about those loud noises, Nicky. I took care of that. Now come dance for me.” You say as you look into his brown eyes.

He gives a slight smile and he leads you to a chair. You sit down and he moves close to you and he places your hands on his abs, as well as his thighs.

“You wanna be my special friend, Nicky?” You ask as you move your hands from him and place them on the hem of your dress. “All depends…what are the benefits of being your special friend?” He asks as he eyes your body.

“You get access to me, you get spoiled. And I do love spoiling my friends. And most of all you get to have the best sex in your life. I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll see God and the devil at the same time. How’s that sound?” You ask as you raise your heel and he takes it, letting his soft hands rub down your calf. “That sounds amazing, but why me?” He asks as he unclasps your heel and he rubs your pretty black painted toes.

You let out a giggle. “Because I like that bulge you have in those skimpy little shorts, and because your eyes remind me of someone. They look…kind.” Nicholas smiles at that and he brings your foot to his lips.

“Can I?” He asks as he kisses the pads of your toes. “Go ahead, let me see you enjoy yourself Nicky.” He sucks your toes and he lets out a soft moan as he licks and suck’s your foot. You rest your head on your chin and you can visibly see he’s getting rock hard.

“That’s enough, Nicky.” You tell him. He gently places your foot down and you hike your dress up past your belly button. “I want to see what else you like sucking on.”

He kneels down and looks up at you. “I..I won’t get in trouble will I?” He asks as he looks down at your freshly waxed brown pussy. “Nah, the new manager here said she’ll let this slide. Come closer, I’m sure you’re hungry after dancing all night.” He leans in and as he grips your thighs he freezes and moves his hand back.

That movement makes you giggle. “Awe, what’s the matter? You don’t like guns?” You ask as you pat Molly. “I..um, I don’t have great experiences with them.”

You cup his chin and move in close as if you’re about to kiss him but you stop. “Well I won’t ever raise Molly to you as long as you don’t make me upset, if you do oh you won’t like that. Now Molly is staying right on my thigh. But you don’t need to be concerned about that. Just pay attention to what’s between my thighs. Now I have two things to tell you. After you give the correct answer we can have fun. Number one…I want you to know I have two main rules. One, you only get to fuck me. If you fuck someone else I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. And two, I want you to treat me like I am your god. When I enter your presence, worship me. When I walk past you, hunger for me to come to you. Do you understand?” He nods but you grip his chin. “Answer me.”

“Y…yes pretty lady.” You let go and you place your hand on top of his head and move his face between your legs. “Now answer this for me as well. Do you have full understanding on how to eat pussy?” You hear him inhale the scent of your sex and he lets out a moan. “Yes, yes I do pretty lady.”

“Call me Vic, and I’m so happy to hear that. Now take that delicious looking clit of mine, move the hood back and lick it with just the tip of your tongue.” He does what he’s told and you lean your head back as you feel him lick circles around your clit.

“Such a good boy you are. You’re going to be my favorite. Now go ahead and suck.” You push his head deeper between your legs and you let out a soft moan as he sucks your clit hungrily.

Even though you know it’s Nicholas between your legs, your mind still wonders to Dick. In your mind he was the one licking you out and making you wet on the seat.

“It’s so good to be home…”

#richard grayson #watsittoyah #prayers of a sinner #dc dick grayson #richard grayson x reader #richard grayson x victoria price #richard grayson x black reader #victoria price #dc comics #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing #nightwing smut #brenton thwaites #brenton thwaites smut

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cloginthedrain · 9 months

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rooftops and vigilantes (part one) (matt murdock x reader)

summary: caffeine-fiend, student teacher!reader encounters a headline-making vigilante on her rooftop.

masterlist | next

word count: 1,634 words

notes: no gendered pronouns yet? i imagine reader as fem presenting, and future descriptions might entail that. outside of canon! this one has been a long time coming! lots of fluff to come! my very first matt fanfic, hope you enjoy <3

comments & reblogs always appreciated!

—

You often sought refuge and solace in the sleepy, serene hours of the morning. Like the morning last, the sun crept out from its hiding place, unsteady but bright.

You found comfort in the inevitable: the shift from summer to autumn, and autumn to winter, and winter to spring, as well as the whisper of the wind amongst trees—the busy bustle of the leaves. You brought your cup of coffee to your lips, disgustingly sweet, and took in the sight of the sleeping city and its bare, almost empty streets.

Your cheeks flushed from the cold, and your spirits were rekindled by the pretty sight.

It was the only time the city seemed beautiful to you.

Like the shift of the seasons, it was inevitable, too, your sweet, hypnotizing reverie was bound to end. A loud splat could be heard around you. You swung your head around to see some asshole, clad in all-black and a mask, now in the center of your field of vision. Your eyes met.

Shit.

His masked face was angled downward, as if assessing the situation in front of him—you were doing the same. From what you could make out, the man was a rugged sort of handsome, with a prominent stubble and defined jaw—the only visible bit of his body besides his fingers, free from the confines of his gloves, and the bits of skin exposed by holes in the fabric of his shirt. Fresh wounds. The rest of his body, defined and built, was covered in black spandex material.

Despite his physical injuries, the man in black was seemingly unscathed, save for his labored breathing. You could only imagine what sorts of trouble he had been entangled in, not to mention, what sorts of trouble he could mean for you, and yet your feet carry you a step closer—your interest piqued, and hypnotized by his build.

You tugged your comforter a little tighter around you before mustering the courage to say, “Come here often?”

Seemingly, for a moment, the air stilled—quiet, as if it was also awaiting his answer. He angled his face upward, in your direction, and he laughed.

“No, uh,” he says, voice gruff, but kind. “I wouldn’t say that—definitely not my usual route home.”

You shifted your feet, realizing the implications of his ensemble. A vigilante, or someone much sketchier. And quite frankly, you weren’t inclined to stick around to find out. Despite your resolve, your heart sparked with excitement as you mused that, maybe he—no, you reasoned, he couldn’t be. Not the Man in Black. He was just some idiot running around in a mask. Though you weren’t entirely convinced the Man in Black wasn’t also an idiot running around in a mask.

A potentially harmful idiot.

You maintain your composure. Surely, if he had wanted to hurt you, he would have already. Right? Still, your eyes dart to the door behind him. “Huh, might have gathered that, by the getup, and, well, the rooftop detour,” you quip.

“Trust me: rooftops are not my preferred mode of transportation.”

An alarm buzzed loudly in your pocket. 6:15. Your eyes lit up in realization, an exit: the God awful class you taught, at eight in the morning! Quite terrible.

“Alright, then,” you offered lamely. “I’d better—“ You gestured to the door behind him.

He said nothing in response, angling his head upward, as if he was straining to hear something.

“I’d say I’d see you around but uh,” you ducked your head for a moment to find your keys on your person, but when you looked up, the man was gone.

—

Every morning since, you set your alarm for just before the sun was reunited with the horizon and found itself tucked beautifully among the brushstrokes of color throughout the reddish-orange sky.

You’d hope to see the man. Your curiosity is high, but expectations are low.

Somewhat begrudgingly, you resolved to return to the dreaded task that’s stolen the greater part of your week as well as your sleep: stacks of ungraded midterms. Your canvas messenger bag weighs you down as you push open the door to your favorite café. You’re met with the unmistakable smell of dark roast drip, a heavenly scent.

You’re early today: chairs are still upturned onto the tables. You perk up, your favorite barista at the counter, sipping a coffee of her own.

“Hey,” you muster.

“Your usual?” Ellie pens in black sharpie, Y/N, with a wonky smiley face.

“Make it a triple shot.”

“Oof, late night?” Ellie sympathizes as she falls into the familiar groove of making your comfort chai tea latte. Extra cinnamony.

“And an extra early morning. Got lots of grading.”

Latte in hand, you settle into your usual booth, and pull your laptop and your stack of student papers.

Settled into the tranquility of the morning, you’re in your element, and you’re grading papers with the efficiency of a Fordian factory line, while being sure to mark the margins with thoughtful comments and critiques. That is, until the second customer pushes the door open and the familiar, irritating tune of the electronic bell plays.

You slump in your seat, and search hopelessly for your shitty wired earbuds when you hear his voice.

“One dark roast drip to go.”

Your eyes pick up and see a man in a department store suit that suited him remarkably well, sporting a pair of red specs, and guided by the swift motions of his white cane. It couldn’t be him then, right? You scan the café for anyone else you might’ve overheard. It had to be him, right? Who else?

“Anything else, Matt?” Ellie asked, punching keys on the cash register.

Matt. A regular.

You wondered if he lived nearby.

He waves her off, “Nah, that’s alright, El.”

“For Foggy?” she asks dubiously, pulling a second paper cup.

“Ah, right,” he chuckles. “Make that two.” He’s all smiles, cooly finding his debit card in his beat up leather wallet, that is, until he sees you. He stops in his tracks, and if possible, stares. He abruptly turns, white cane in hand, and walks out without his coffee.

“Damndest thing, huh?” Ellie remarks. “Clients call, I guess.”

Clients?

Curious.

You stake out the next morning, two drips brewed from your dingy Keurig, a peace offering in the best case scenario, and the worst case scenario, a second cup for you.

Finally relieved of your paper grading obligations as of last night, you bask in the feeling of freedom and accomplishment as you sip your coffee lazily.

You take a sip from the lid of your paper cup when you look up.

“Matt?”

“Damn it,” he pulls his mask off in frustration, and he paces, running his fingers through his hair.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He stops in mid tracks.

“Ellie told me all about what you and your friend Froggy do,” you explain. You learned of all of the pro bono work he provided to the community at Nelson and Murdock. You were newer to the neighborhood.

“Foggy.”

“Huh?”

“My partner’s name is Foggy.”

“Right,” you flush. “Well, it’s just nice knowing someone’s looking out.” shrug.

“Huh,” he remarks lamely. He seems to notice the second cup of coffee, somehow. He perks up. “That for me?”

He answered all sorts of questions. What he does, why he does it. Is he actually blind? Yes and no, you learned.

And when you remark how much he shared, his eyes twinkled, and he said raspily, breathlessly, “It’s just nice that someone knows.”

Next time you see him, he’s hunched over, tapping his fingers on your sliding glass door. With the other hand, he’s cradling the gash on his abdomen.

You pull the faulty door with all your might to help Matt in, settling him on your well-loved, lumpy couch.

“Matt, I’ve never—“

“That’s alright, do you have a sewing kit and whiskey?”

You return with both, alongside a first aid kit. You prod, “You sure I can’t help?”

“That’s okay,” He assures you, hearing your heart pound and practically topple out of your chest. “Maybe have a swig of that.” He strains, pushing the whiskey back into your hands.

You twist the cap, taking a generous swig, and find some bandaging in your first aid kit.

He’s slouched on the couch, shirt lifted, skin exposed, attending to his wound. After he snips the excess thread at the end of his stitch, with trembling hands, you smooth the bandage over some dressing, “Good as new.”

He cracks a strained smile, “Thanks, uh, won’t happen again.” You take note of how handsome he looks, all rugged.

You hum in understanding, tapping the bare skin of your thighs. He caught you in your pajamas. Shortest of shorts, barest of tank tops. No bra. Hell’s Kitchen’s summers were unforgiving. Scorching hot.

Sweat beaded above your lips.

Matt in all his rugged glory couldn’t exactly see you, but you felt exposed nonetheless.

“Hey,” you pipe up, “How’d you find me?” He knew your building, you had figured, but he had never been to your place.

“You really wanna know?”

You think for a moment, taking another swig from the bottle. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

“I recognized you,” he says. “The lavender, I can practically taste it.”

You sniff, self-conscious. He chuckles.

“Right, heightened senses.” You recall the dab of lavender you scent your wrists and the back of your neck with, day and night. You were a relatively anxious person, which is why you were drawn to lavender, and crime-fighting vigilantes like Matt, apparently.

He stares past you, still slumped on the couch. “Thanks.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear, stomach still warm from the whiskey. “Happy to help.”

He wobbles up, hand cradling his wound. “See you around?”

All you can manage is a nod.

—

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil x reader

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littjara-compleated-sage · 8 months

Note

FMK Urza, Mishra, Yawgmoth

Fuck: Yawgmoth because... as awful as he is, the sexy goth doctor getup and Phyrexian association are like.... idk. something. they do something

Marry: Mishra. Both the brothers suck, but if forced to choose I am team Mishra. His aesthetic is better at least and I guess his backstory is marginally more sympathetic ?????? It's like picking between left and right Twix but they're both made of actual war crimes. Oh and he got compleated so there's that

Kill: Urza. Oh my GOD does Warcrimes Georg deserve to take the brunt of my fury. Also the dipshit was racist to Xantcha her entire life and that's an unforgivable crime!! I WOULD FUCKING ENJOY KILLING THIS OLD MAN

#these bitches are SOOOOO crusty it's like sourdough in here #mtg #magic the gathering #yawgmoth #mishra #urza #brothers war #askbox #ask game #corporalotherbear

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bioexorcizm · 4 months

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drabblecember day #17 - laundry fresh from the dryer

ship: bedbugs

word count: 431

summary: "Please, god…If you're out there -- give me the strength to not find a way to kill someone who's already dead."

“What are you doing?”

“The laundry.”

He makes a noise of disgust.

“Why?”

“Uh, because I need clean clothes?”

“Uh,” Beetlejuice mocks them, “I get that, sunshine. But isn't it a waste of time to fold it all if you're just gonna wear it again?”

He picks up an old, ragged pair of boxers in intrigue, but Reagan quickly snatches them away, folding them neatly and placing them in their appropriate pile.

“How come you never fold my laundry?”

“You don't do laundry, bug. In fact, I don't think you've ever washed your clothes, ever.”

“You sayin’ I smell?”

“Yes, actually.”

Beetlejuice looks offended towards them, offput by their teasing grin.

“I started showering for you, you know.”

“No, you started showering with me, and only because -- I’m not having this argument. Point is, you haven't ever asked me to do your laundry. I always figured those were like…I don't know. Your only clothes.”

“What, like I don't own anything else?”

“I don't know. Do you?”

They look over at him, rolling their eyes as he suddenly stands, flexing in the mirror in an ill-fitted pair of khakis and a ripped, stained undershirt.

“Not your best look, bug.”

“Oh, like you know what fashion is.”

He turns, now in some awful pair of shorts and a blindingly ugly Hawaiian button-up.

“Sometimes I feel like I really am in hell, and that you're my punishment.”

“You wound me, babes, you really do.”

“Not as much as your fashion sense hurts me.”

“Well, gee, tell us how you really feel. If you want, I can just start nixing the whole clothes thing entirely, and --”

“No, thanks. I like the suspenders, really. I’m just suggesting that maybe you pass ‘em over for a wash once in a while.”

“Aw shucks, babe, you'd really do that for me?”

“If my other options are eternal torture, or you rolling dirt into my sheets every night, I guess I don't have much of a choice.”

Beetlejuice throws himself onto the bed, directly onto the laundry; He's back in his striped getup now, save for the blazer, and Reagan watches as their freshly washed laundry very quickly absorbs the dirt, dust, and grime that their demon rolls into the pile. They sigh, too tired to argue, and tilt their head back, Please, god…If you're out there -- give me the strength to not find a way to kill someone who's already dead.

“Aw man, this is really warm. I might have to do this more often, you know!”

Reagan closes their eyes, pleading.

“The things I do for love…”

#.writing #.bj #drabblecember2023

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sl-newsie · 1 year

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My Review of 92sies

Gotta remember this was made in the 90s by the classic Disney intro! 😄

Thank you Max for the great intro monologue! ‘Thank you Max, for that marvelous introduction!’ Hocus Pocus, anyone?

Gotta appreciate how much they were able to make a crammed set look like New York

Oh. My. God! Shirtless Mush is sooo cute! 😍

No wonder Skittery’s always angry- I’d be too if I was woken up early. 😤

Not even 5 minutes in and Jack’s called Cowboy 🤠

Where was Kloppman in Livesies? Really, where?

I wanna know how all the newsies characters were created. Was someone reading A Christmas Carol and was like ‘yes, we need teenage Tiny Tim!’

I noticed they have the same audio of the kid yelling ‘c’mon move it! move it!’ later at the end.

Why did they cut out the ‘takes a smile as sweet as butter?’ bit?

Aw Race does the sign of the cross! Is he Catholic?

At first I was confused about the woman singing in the background but over time I feel that she brings the idea that not all the newsies are orphans

Sorry but Race backing up from being threatened by a stick is hilarious

Jack is so much calmer in this version! No more angry Jack

Awww! Les is so cuuute! The way he just stares at Jack while he’s running is priceless 😊

Race and Jack show more friendship chemistry in the first 10 minutes than Jack and Race in Livies during the whole show

Already 92sies Les is so much better

It’s really hard to not picture Jack as Batman

Half the movie is watching all-a the newsies reactions in the background!

Headlines don’t sell papes, newsies sell papes- the entire plot summed up in one sentence. 🗞️

Properly shows how the newsies respect a lady by them removing their hats

‘What’s that deafening noise?’ Uh, that’s your employees doing their job?

I feel sorry for the guy shaving that Snider just shoves to the side when he runs up the stairs.

LUV Medda’s getup! All of it! Anne-Margret is so good! The way she talks to Les is so cute!

I have spotted the teleporting ventriloquist dummy guy!

I personally don’t ship Javid, but 92sies shows much better chemistry between Jack and David than Livesies.

‘Then you’ll be a real cowboy!’ ‘Yeah.’ What about a painter? Now where would you ever get that idea? 🤠🧑‍🎨

So it’s raining while they’re having dinner, then it stopped when they're on the fire escape, and the ground is dusty enough so when Jack does his Santa Fe ‘dance’ he doesn’t get all muddy? Huh.

Only thing about Sarah is that I feel her New York accent could’ve been better.

I wanna know who made the birthday cake. One of the cast or crew maybe?

I prefer Christian’s daydreamy version of Santa Fe. 🏜️

I’d like know what the people in the street are thinking, like ‘what the heck is this guy randomly singing?’

The streetlights make 92sies at night seem like a very cozy atmosphere

Why did they cut out the scene of Christian using a lasso? Learning how to use a lasso was a big deal for him!

What ever happened to the horse Jack technically stole?

Race and Jack’s friendship never gets old!

Pulitzer’s calculation behavior is… weird. Also why is he imitating Tevye’s If I Were A Rich Man dance?

Ok, we need a class where every newsie is pointed out and named so everyone knows who they are

What are the pedestrians thinking when the newsies start singing?

You’re a leader! Here Jack, have a stick! Now break it!

‘Em-bastards!’

Hey it’s Lone Star in a bowler hat!

Now I want to use ‘hoity toity’ every day.

Yeessss! BROOKLYN! But where can I find the music if it’s not in the soundtrack?! 🌉

‘I spent a month there one night.’ Uh what does that mean, Boots?

Why is Spot Colon’s slingshot never brought up in Livesies?

Ok when I first watched this I didn’t know what to expect from Spot Colon but I remember that as soon as I saw him I had a crush on him instantly. 🥰

People always make fun of Spot’s height, whether it be 92sies or Livesies. But being a short person myself and knowing other short people I can honestly say that short people definitely can be scary! Seriously I’ve scared more people than I can count even if I don’t mean to, so imagine Spot Colon intentionally trying to be scary! To quote Yoda: ‘size matters not!’ Spot Colon could kick everyone’s ass if he wanted!

I luv how all the other Brooklyn newsies are just waiting intimidatingly in the background for Spot to either give the all clear or the o-k to soak Davey.

How did numerous fan theories about Spot’s key get started? 🗝️

Seize the Day is on fire! I luv the quick footwork and acro work in the confined space even though the dance number could’ve been held in a bigger area.

Where did the newsies get tomatoes to throw at Wiesel? 🍅

How long did it take to clean up the torn newspapers after they got done filming that scene?

Huh, Jack actually cares enough to try to break Crutchy out? Also how does nobody notice Jack casually standing around with a rope?

It’s cute how Les and the younger newsies made homemade drums!

‘Never fear, Brooklyn is here!’ Oh my God yeessss! 😆

It’s over, Weasel! Brooklyn has the high ground! Star Wars, anybody?

The newsies picture looks like what every attempt at a family picture looks like, with everybody scattered and looking at different places.

King of New York, still my favorite! The way they had all these guys in this tiny room with all these tables, and yet still pull off a decent dance number! Just wow.

Crutchy your positivity is contagious, even though sometimes you gotta learn when to be sad.

Jack how on Earth can you fall asleep on a fire escape?

Nice rooftop backdrop! Wonder if Jack painted it… 🎨🤔😆

Jack still wants to leave, but at least on the rooftop he explains how he’s not used to growing roots anywhere and actually asks Sarah if she cares.

‘...others who would dare to leeee!’ What, Pulitzer?

I luv how the newsies dress up for the rally! Even though they’re poor they still know when to act ‘proper.’ Also Spot, you look great! 👍

Seeing Medda dance with all the is always fun to watch, especially with Blink and Race completely fawning over her.

Why is it that Davey and Spot immediately see that Denton’s pointing out Snyder but it takes Davey yelling in Jack’s face for him to see it?

Typical Race to gamble with a judge 🃏

They really make us hate Snyder. Even if you don’t like Jack (don’t know how someone could but whatever), you really feel bad for him when Snyder takes him back to the Refuge. 😣

How in the world does nobody notice the newsies hiding out around the refuge or when Davey rides on the back of the carriage? There’s cops literally 10 feet from them and they still don’t see a group of kids?

Even when Jack’s yelling he’s still less angry then Jeremy’s angry Jack.

All the Refuge gives you to sleep on is a rusty bed frame? Ouch!

‘We was beat when we was born.’ Yikes Jack got some dark thoughts. 😳

It doesn’t take going through a whole day sulking and getting yelled at by Katherine for 92sies Jack to change his mind, it only takes the Delancys beating up the Jacobs for him to finally say no.

Once And For All is catchier than the Livesies version

I like how they show all the different kids at odds and ends jobs, as well as how some kids back then didn’t know how to read.

Only thing is I wish they would’ve talked about the details with the deal with Pulitzer

Sarah doesn’t need to beg Jack to stay, Jack figures it out that he needs to stay.

Jack, how can you leave? You’re making Les cry! 😖😭

Now Mush is looking cute next to a lamppost 😍

I’m hearing the audio from the beginning!

Yes, Jarah is a relationship I can tolerate! It’s not toxic or annoying, and they don’t look like they wanna kill each other every scene.

Spot riding away in the carriage is perfect! ‘By, Spot!’ 🥰

Overall I’d want to know what the original newsies would think of this. I mean just imagine the ones from 1899 watching this and thinking ‘I don’t think we ever did this much singing and dancing.’

And now to take a moment for the 92sies who did not make it into Livesies: Snipeshooter, Boots, Bumlets, PieEater, Snoddy, Itey, Snitch, Swifty, Jake, Dutchy, Skittery, Snaps, Tumbler, and Flipper. They will be missed. Instead they will be replaced by new newsies that are far more stupid and annoying, but on the bright side are very good dancers. 😔

I feel like 92sies isn’t talked about as much because it’s more dated and not as recent. When people mention that current stars like Ben Cook are in Livesies then everyone talks about it like it’s the best thing since sliced bread. But when people say Christian Bale is in 92sies then they just say ‘oh yeah, he’s Batman’ and just leave it at that. Just because 92sies doesn’t have the A+ Broadway dancing doesn’t mean it’s not a good musical,

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hikapoi · 9 months

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I saw this Mashle x Edith co. art and I had to draw that god-awful getup on Rayne.

Also I thought what Lemon was wearing was cute so I wanted to draw it on me.

#art #doodle #hika #mashle #rayne ames #mashle magic and muscles #mashleverse

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bluetooththereptile · 2 years

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Someone asked: How would yanderes Jason Todd and Damian Wayne (Separate) react to the reader doing classical dance? And seeing them in that getup? I had to ask this since I’ve done classical dance for like 7 years and I’ve seen a movie recently about classical dance and so… yeah, I had to ask this. Sorry if this seems a bit confusing, and the origins of classical dance are from India btw

Haha well that would something! I’ve watched some Indian movies and God doesn’t those fancy and colorful dresses and movements enchant you?

Jason, well the guy is in awe as he watches you dance, the jingle of your jewelries, that graceful movements that is like a snake that circles around a bush of flowers, the moment those grace turns into heated swings of your feet or curling of your hands, that, dear anon, is the moment cupid pierces his heart for the millionth time.

You would definitely get so many compliments after or during your dance break that can melt you down. He is even bold enough to try and leane how to dance with you, kneeling before you dramatically “Will you accept me as your apprentice my lady?” You have a giant of a man in the palm of your hands to train. But don’t you dare tell anyone specially Dick!

Damian, Let me tell you something first, the moment he learns that you know how to do dance he tries to learn it too! Like how can he watch from aside when you dance alone? He won’t allow that happen!

But before that he can learn how to dance he would watch you closely, complimenting you as he teases you as well, enjoying the glares you give him when he intrudes your focusing with his voice.

So when you are finished, you are torn between slapping his head till that devious smirk is gone or blushing madly as he talks like you are a goddess in his eyes. Good luck with that!

#blue answers #yandere batfamily #yandere damian wayne #yandere #yandere jason todd #yandere robin #yandere red hood #Damian wayne #jason todd

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wingedcat13 · 2 years

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If I uh mayhaps decided to draw the characters from your uh latest writing prompt...

What did you envision them to uh look like.

(Syovous and Alexandria)

🥺👉👈

Aw, thank you!

I left them largely purposefully ambiguous - Synovus, in costume, has a helmet that’s mostly black dome where the face would be, and the rest is both padded and form-obscuring because of it. Honestly, ‘Zero’ from Code Geass wouldn’t be too far from their normal getup!

As for Alexandria, she’s around 14 at the start and 15 at the end. Her costume as ‘Mercury’ is modeled after Legionnaire’s, with more of the wing motifs common to that god’s usual depictions! The mask is more like Athena’s though, in that it’s a gold half-mask covering the upper part of the face.

#ask box #thank you for the ask!#genuinely #I look forward to seeing what you come up with!#synoverse #synovus

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startswitheff · 6 months

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Tumblr made me do it

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 2338

Something you may not know about Dean Winchester is that he has a Tumblr account. Shaddup. We don’t talk about it. He signed up for it years ago for the horror appreciation blogs, and stayed for the car enthusiasts and Star Wars fans. What we’re especially not gonna talk about is how when he discovered Wil Wheaton was on Tumblr he nearly gave himself away to Sam in his excitement. That was a close fucking call.

He follows a lot of blogs these days. Does his duty and reblogs when he sees something he likes. Thing is, there’s a confluence between the things he likes and knows about and a certain, shall we say, metafiction that he tries really hard not to think about. So in addition to the amazing fanart of Han Solo and Leia that splashes across his dash, he also sees a lot of pictures of. Well.

They never get him right. He doesn’t have that many freckles. His hair is brown, thank you very much. And his eyes are more hazel than they are green. Chuck never really got him right, either, and he shudders to remember that god awful cover art that had him sporting Fabio hair.

They do, however, tend to get Cas pretty much spot-on, with his messy hair, sharp nose, and blue, blue eyes. Not to mention the way that some artists draw his broad shoulders is almost exactly the way that Dean pictures he looks under his holy tax accountant getup.

Not that he pictures that.

Well, not very often.

Read the rest on A03 HERE

#dean winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #destiel #castiel

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tsukiyamers · 10 months

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ravanger loki au , 1.4k (chapter 1 of none: escape (the pina colada song))

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter can already hear the intergalactic police sirens in his head. Is this dude dead? Is he fucking dead? Gross he’s still on his windshield being dead. God what does he even do in a situation like this? “Please don’t actually be dead.”

Well, he wasn’t dead. The nameless dude that sucked face with spacecraft’s windshield was now sitting in one of the few chairs, wrapped in an old blanket Peter managed to grab when he was dragging his prone form inside. Peter almost regrets not having anything else to give him but the dude looked grateful. “Sooo…” The man lifts his head. Peter continues, “Uh, you probably shouldn’t’ve survived that. You know, at all.” He adds a casual shrug to give off his Not-That-It’s-A-Big-Deal-Or-Anything attitude, sure the guy hypothetically couldn’t have but who was he to judge? Not him! “But, uh, mind telling me who you are?”

The man looks pressed, his mouth twisting into a sort of frown. Peter frowns with him. Sorry for wanting to know, yeesh.

“A name’s good too,” Peter tries.

He adjusts the blanket tighter over his shoulders, still looking pensive on whether or not to give Peter just that. Peter sighs and stands up, heading back to the front of the Milano. “Whatever man, there’s a outpost stop near here, I can just drop you off and you can be on your merry way.”

“Loki.” Peter stops, turns around to the before nameless man. He’s staring straight at him with such an intensity and he says, “I am Loki and I have nowhere else to go.”

After that he didn’t talk much, but that’s okay, Peter’s used to traveling solo (solo in the way, that he’s usually alone during the day but at night’s another story), but besides his name, this Loki hasn’t given him any other kind of information on who--or what--he is.

Anyhow, he’ll be going back solo.

“The outpost is not for another hour or so and from there, you should be able to find your way around and figure it all out,” Peter said, putting the ship on autopilot. He leans back into his seat. “There’s uh, you should be able to find help.”

Peter can hear Loki shift around back there. Last time he saw him, he was sitting by one of the windows to look out onto space as they flew by, Peter imagines he’s still there.

Okay, so maybe Peter feels a bit bad. The dude really told him he had nowhere to go, he obviously looks utterly misplaced with that whole...getup he’s sporting…, and on top, the dude just looks--well--sad, like he doesn’t care what happens to him kind of sad. So yes, Peter feels a bit bad. But, Peter also has a job to do and this guy would just hold him back.

Ugh.

What would Youdu do?

“Be real with me here, buddy, are you sure you don’t have anyone?” Peter asks as he stands from the pilot seat. By a quick glance, he was right that Loki was still looking out onto the beyond. Peter almost thinks he didn’t hear him, ready to ask one more time, then, without tearing his gaze from outside, Loki says,

“No. Not anymore.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Peter scratches his head.

“Aw goddamn dude, you’re really killing me here,” He says, now scratching his chin as he shifts through the Milano’s kitchen.

“Really now?”

Peter blinks, not expecting an answer, but he doesn’t let it catch him too off guard and continues on, still rummaging around in the kitchenette, “Uhh, yeah, you are. You come here hitting my ship and I have to be all Super Hero and rescue you before I had your real death on my conscious.” He pops open a lid and sniffs the contents, then wrinkles his nose. He puts it back. “Now I’m feeling all guilty cuz you obviously have no one--” he can hear Loki huff at that. Well he’s the one that said it first! “--and I have to be the bad guy and dump you somewhere, ‘cause, sorry-not-sorry buddy, but you’re tellin’ me nuthin’ how else to help you.”

“Then don’t help me.”

Peter really doesn’t like how he said that, it just adds to the guiltiness. Why does he have to get a goddamn conscious? It would be so much easier if he didn’t.

So Peter settles for a sigh, a very long sigh that leads into groan and then a, “Duuuude…” Loki has nothing to contribute to that, and Peter finally finds what he’s looking for and tosses it to his Tall, Dark, and Depressing companion. “Eat this, it’s like an energy bar or something.” Peter grabs some for himself then sees Loki turn it over in his hands with a pinched face. “What? It won’t kill you. It probably doesn’t taste the best but it won’t.”

Loki takes it.

Peter safely thinks that him and his newest companion had entered in some sort of non-verbal agreement and that’s pretty stellar actually. So when the ship lands at the out-post, just on the outskirts of the rise and high bustling that’s guaranteed of a shady spacey truck stop, Peter takes it onto himself to announce their arrival as he rises from his seat, “We’re here-!”

Only to find himself kicked out of his own ship onto said rocky shady spacey truck stop.

“WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!” Peter tries to scream over the roaring of his own fucking ship. Except he doesn’t hear him--or maybe he did and chooses to ignore him--and continues to lift up higher and higher until-- “FUCK!”

His ship is gone and so is Loki. He could’a swore he saw him flash him a grin before hightailing out.

A greenish person with an insane brow action happening whistles (Peter can’t find it in him to precisely tell what he is, but it starts with a B) and Peter dusts off his chest and huffs. Hot burns his neck.

Well.

“--and, and, and, ya know the best part?” Peter says, downing a quick shot that burns down to his belly, he scoots closer to his conversation buddy, not letting them take time to reply before he reveals the best part. “That asshole stole my goddamn ship! Yeah, stole! I saved his ass from cosmic freeze and this is what I get? Fuuuuuck. That’s the last time I’ll be a quote-on-quote good person.” He uses his free hand to do air quotations as he rants, “The next person that smacks onto my windshield I’ll just push off myself.” He tries to drink down his empty shot glass, only to find it--well--empty, damn. Peter sets it down. “Another one.”

The bartender, his conversation buddy, gives him a flat look and fills up his glass. “This is your last one, pal.”

Peter snorts at that and raises the drink to his lips, “Pft, yeah, sure, alright.”

God what am I gunna do now, he thinks as he sips the alcoholic concoction which this time freezes on his tongue to his teeth. He pulls a face. He hates roulette drinks.

By the time he finishes his drink (now just a cool sensation spreading across his insides), he sighs out a snowflake or two and lamates once again that his ship is stolen and now he’s stranded on this rolling comet outpost. He raises from his bar stool and transfers the credits from his tab and heads to leave the little space saloon--or that was the plan until he gets an incoming transmission from probably the one person he doesn’t want to see after getting his ship stolen. But he accepts.

The familiar blue face sends him a sharp-tooth grin and nearly fills up the entire screen with his face. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t my boy Peter. Finally answering my calls, huh?” Peter makes an exaggerated sigh, “What do you want, Yondu?”

“Now don’t go sounding too happy,” Yondu quips. “Word on the street says you picked up some...cargo. A little field trip, huh?”

“You’re not making any sense,” Peter cuts in, mad in his tone. “I’m really busy here, if you could cut to the chase that’ll be super.” He wasn’t busy at all but you know.

Yondu laughs. “What I’m sa-aying is: you let a little fancy really rob you dry. One of our own saw your ship flying by--” Peter pales. “--and you can imagine our confusion when it wasn’t you flying it.”

“He’s not--” “It don’t matter. You come on back now, and that’s not me asking nicely.” The transmission cuts. Peter wants to rage. Instead he groans and drags his hands down his face, groaning some more. God, this has to be the worst day of his life.

#my favorite joke is Tall Dark And Depression #my writing #peter quill #loki

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rahleeyah · 2 years

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Leah, why do you think Olivia was retconned from season 13 to the current season finale as a woman in love with her married partner. Maybe I'm missing something but after Screwed, I don't recall Olivia showing an interest in Elliot. In my opinion it was mostly Elliot (being jealous of or interfering with her relationships) who was outwardly having an emotional affair. I know it was implied with Philadelphia. But it wasn't until Elliot left that it was canon.

Liv telling Haden that she was getting over something. The conversation with the lady cop in Internal Affairs. The conversation with Nick about "that relationship, whatever it was". Barba saying, "not just your partnership with Stabler but your relationship". Then to the unconditional love comment. How did we go from hints, clues and maybes to she is awful for not being able to let go of her feelings for a married man? Where were the writers and Warren going with that?

well, for starters, i'm not sure that i agree with your thesis here, that olivia's love for elliot is somehow a 2.0 invention used against her, or that her love was somehow retconned in after the fact, when it was there from the jump.

you've said in your opinion it was mostly elliot having an emotional affair, but how is he having an affair with someone who isn't in love with him? it's not an affair if it's not reciprocated. now maybe that's semantics, and you meant that you saw him as having a one-sided sort of infatuation, but i think "affair" is the right vibe for what they had going on; it was a two way street.

i fully, deeply disagree that it wasn't until elliot left that it was canon.

it was canon that olivia cares deeply, painfully, for elliot in fault. it was canon in burned. it was canon before that. it is elliot she leans on, elliot she turns, elliot who remains the constant in her life while none of her relationships with other men last. it was olivia getting jealous over elliot when rebecca hendrix was around, olivia pulling shocked faces when she finds elliot might have been seeing other women during the divorce. fault was the moment they both had to face how they felt; olivia couldn't pull the trigger anymore than elliot could have left her bleeding in the train station. what about me; that is not the posture, the tone, the words of a woman who does not love that man.

implied in philadelphia - hendrix said codependency with her whole chest. that takes two people. codependency is not a one-way street. olivia is every bit as devoted to elliot as he is to her.

and i think screwed is an odd choice, if you're looking for a point after which olivia no longer displays feelings for elliot. blinded comes after screwed; blinded, where elliot got injured (not even permanently!) so olivia goes on a warpath to get the mentally unstable man responsible extradited so that he will be given the death penalty, getting into a huge and deeply personal fight with casey in the process. paternity comes after that, and the hug; jesus, just the way she looks at him after that hug, that's not love? swing? olivia inserting herself into elliot's family troubles, taking it upon herself to go see his mother, her face when she sees him in the carrot getup, the way she talks to him about his anger? Wildlife! Zebras! Spooked - wherein Elliot is a massive dick to a potential love interest for Olivia and she just shrugs and sides with him. PC - yes, the line is your partner has the hots for you, but Olivia's reaction is, as always, he's married. not "i'm not interested" not "don't be stupid". he's married. pursuit! my god, her relief at seeing him for the first time after like two weeks, the intensity of the way she clings to him. besides their general behavior in s12 is like the most married they've ever been.

so i don't agree that it was retconned; i think it was there, the whole time.

i also don't agree with "she's awful for not being able to let go of her feelings for a married man". I don't think that - until this latest finale - there was any implication that olivia was somehow at fault, or to be judged, for having had feelings for elliot. she was rueful, regretful, which is understandable; without him there she has to process the thirteen years she spent with him at the center of her life. she has to look at how much time and energy she devoted to a man she knew could never love her back, a man who eventually left her. i have said this before, many times, but "that relationship, whatever it was", that conversation with nick, has always felt, to me, very much like a woman post bad breakup, telling herself, convincing herself, that she is better off without him. she has to believe that her life is better now; if she doesn't, where does that leave her? and did she not grow significantly in those first few years after his departure? that isn't his fault, but as long as he was with her, olivia wasn't looking outside him, professionally or personally. that doesn't mean she was in the wrong, at the time, and it doesn't mean he did anything to her. it's how does she make you do anything, but from olivia's perspective. elliot didn't make her do anything; she chose, because she loved him, to stay.

barba mentions her relationship with elliot, a relationship he has not witnessed apart from the way it has now damaged barba's relationship with olivia. his perspective is skewed, bc he believes himself to be right and elliot to be wrong, and he doesn't understand why his friend didn't pick him. that's human, that's natural. but how does he know about the relationship? for every incident of violence in elliot's record, olivia was right there. their past is littered with stories that it's easy to believe there's gossip about them. especially after he comes back, when liv is once more in his orbit. they broke the law, they did batshit things, they screamed at each other in hallways in front of witnesses, they lied for one another, even fin in pursuit calls elliot out for checking out liv's ass; everyone knows. and barba, seeing liv's behavior, knowing the lengths liv goes to for the people she cares about, seeing how willing she is to hold a grudge on elliot's behalf, how unwilling she is to bend, even for barba, when it comes to elliot; he knows what olivia's love looks like, and he names it.

now. the way that episode was cut, especially the initial scenes and then those convos with barba, reeks of WL's hatred of elliot. it would be easy, very easy, to walk away from that thinking they had been trying to call elliot an abuser, and that barba is somehow a martyr, sacrificing his friendship with liv bc she can't see that she's hung up on a bad man.

but to do so would require ignoring the entire rest of the episode, and canon. it would require ignoring lindstrom telling liv to try with elliot, because she can't have intimacy with HIM or anyone else until she knows for sure what that relationship is. lindstrom wasn't telling her to give up! he was telling her to try! it would require ignoring liv's own comments to rafa. it would require ignoring every moment liv and elliot have spent together since his return. and it would require ignoring every single time, throughout all of 1.0, when elliot was kind, when he comforted olivia, when she sought him out, when they leaned on one another. it would require ignoring the fact that in 1.0 it is often elliot counseling olivia to compassion, that elliot is the one who helps shape her into the woman the squad meets in 2.0. elliot is not a bad man, and olivia is not solely the object of his affections; she does idealize him. her behavior throughout 1.0 reflects that.

WL obviously, blatantly, according to his own statements, does not like elliot, and did not want to see eo go down, and that last episode was a parting shot on his behalf i think, but it's important to remember that he's gone. the new showrunner has been announced, and he is talking about trauma recovery and love always prevails and liking eo posts. what WL was thinking, what he was trying to do, frankly doesn't matter anymore. it has no bearing on where the story goes from here.

#s.vu #e.o asks #anonymous

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runicmagitek · 1 year

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Hi Runic 😃👋🏾

Celes for character ask 💖

Thank you!

Apologies for the wait but AW YEAH MY FAVE OF ALL TIME 😍 thank youuuuu

Why I like them. I'm always a sucker for ice queen characters and love SO MUCH about Celes, but what really sold me on Celes as a bitty was how someone so strong and incredible was still profoundly depressed and defeated, thus felt it was logical to end her life. And the fact she survived, found the strength to keep going, and then reunited all her lost allies to then save the world? Damn, that really meant the world to me as a kid. It reminded me that even the strongest and most determined of folks still have their lows and that they CAN recover from it. Amazing. I love her so much.

Why I don’t. What do you mean she's perfect I love everything about her, flaws and all

Favorite scene. I always loved the part when she contemplates Kefka's offer to join him in becoming a god and ruling the world and she's just like "nah" and stabs him. Incredible. Good for her.

Favorite line. "I'm a former general, not some opera floozy!!" The opera scene is so ridiculous and over the top and I forever love it bc of that.

Favorite outfit. Oh damn, she has so many. I really love her Amano concept art getup with the gold and purple, especially the one where she has the vest and weird arm warmer sleeve things. And the crisscross stitching by her hip on her pants chef kiss

OTP. I am contractually obligated to say Celes/Setzer because it's true, but Celes/Terra is Just As Good and important to me. I love them both honestly for very different reasons. Celes just deserves someone who will love her forever.

Brotp. After writing Darkness/Starlight, I really love her friendship with Edgar. They contrast each other well and I think they'd really support each other over the years post-canon. Also Sabin! Because he's a sweetie and would give her the best hugs. AND ALSO CYAN WOULD BE A PERFECT FATHER FIGURE AND OMG HIS HATE FOR HER TURNING INTO ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION SHE RARELY HAD GROWING UP AND IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

Head Canon. jsdklfjafklsadj FUCK I HAVE TO PICK JUST ONE???? Her knowing Terra pre-canon and them sharing a romance before Terra lost her memories is peak angst, especially with Terra asking Celes, OF ALL PEOPLE, if she's ever been in love before when they reunite in Narshe

Unpopular opinion. I think Celes/L*cke is [REDACTED]

A wish. I hope she finds a new purpose in the new world post-canon. I hope she comes to terms with her past and learns to let go. I hope she can be happy and never need to fight again.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen. No more experiments or medical infusions ever again. No no no.

5 words to best describe them. Reserved, inquisitive, resilient, gorgeous, and badass

My nickname for them. MY OG ICE QUEEN AAAAAAAAAAA

#runic rambles #meme thing

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sohannabarberaesque · 1 year

Text

Postcards from Snagglepuss

What Peter Potamus wouldn't give in tribute

"Snagglepuss ... Huckleberry Hound ... Hair Bear ... Square Bear ... Bubi Bear ..."

It was Peter Potamus, hosting our motley crew at his diver's cabin off the Florida Keys just past Islamorada one evening around sunset, with a wonderful campfire of sorts blazing near the beach. The sort of gatherings he's particularly fond of having evenings--but this time around, it's one tending to the mystical, with elements of the Polynesian even (as witness some tiki carvings in their luscious erotic glory).

"The reason I've called you here," Peter explained in his classic safari jacket-and-pith helmet getup, "is for the sake of some Very Special Recognition."

Huck was quick to whisper in my ear, "What sort of recognition exactly?", prompting moi to respond in like fashion, "You'll see."

"The recognition I speak of," Peter continued, "is in this Polynesian-inspired necklace of mother-of-pearl shell and a string of sharks' teeth. I happened to pick up several of these one time during one of my storied journeys into Polynesia Uncharted, which included the suggestion of the local chieftain that such necklaces should be given to especially close friends of yours who symbolise our most wonderful passion for the water in particular!"

(Whereupon So-So, Peter's trusted simian companion, on signal from Peter presented a collation of five such necklaces as above to Peter, and placed them on his right arm for eventual distribution ritual-like.)

"I certainly hope and trust," Peter remarked in preparing to award said necklaces, "that such will be worn with a sense of pride and wonderment ... and mindful that such are being given to you with a sense of awe and respect in the diving experience, and the fascination expected to be inherent as close friends of yours truly and the diving experiences which I happen to share with close friends, and then some!" After a short pause, and more as an aside: "Not to mention a fascination for the uncharted side of Polynesia!"

Thus, with the setting Florida Keys sun as backdrop and the campfire as reinforcement, Peter would fit these necklaces around our necks, followed by the traditional cheek rub known as the accolade, a show of passage for such an unlikely honour for such sharing his passion for diving in pure and natural way; yours truly was given the first such necklace, then Huckleberry, followed by the Hair Bears, who admittedly were humbled (as Hair Bear explained it later over lime-flavoured seltzer as much as conversation into the night).

"Admittedly, such doesn't quite confer any special privilege or honour," Peter remarked in explaining the necklace's significance, "but at least it looks cool and fascinating!"

"And you wonder if such will win over the girls when we go into the woods for mating season this summer," Square Bear coyly remarked as he fondled the necklace, prompting Hair Bear to suggest that such be left aside until the time comes, as it were.

Meanwhile--

"Heavens to the Polynesian gods of the dive!" remarked I.

Which Peter Potamus seconded by remarking, "Isn't that quite the sentiment?" Followed by quite the session of diving-related fantasies and stories stretching well past one in the morning, if you can believe it.

*************

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#hanna barbera #fanfiction #fanfic #postcards from the road #snagglepuss #on road trip #florida keys #peter potamus #hair bear bunch #polynesian fashion #polynesian necklace #shark's tooth necklace #honour #recognition #polynesian lore and legend #sunset ceremony #hannabarberaforever

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