#Betty White ad

[davedyecom]

PODCAST: Orlando Wood

‘I’ve just done a Volvo ad with no car in it, it doesn’t get any better than that!’ Those were the first I heard on day one at AMV/BBDO. It was the Art Director’s way of saying ‘it’s good here’. I appreciated the intent, but thought it was weird. Who cares if the ad has a car in it? Is it a good ad? But that’s how a certain group of creatives think. For them wins are – running an ad word-free,…

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#&039;Viva La Vulva&039; #Alan Parker #AMV/BBDO #Barclaycard ad #Betty White ad #Bodyform ad #Burger King &039;Moldy Burger&039; #CDP #Cinzano ad #Collett Dickenson Pearce #Compare The Market #David Abbott Geoff Seymour #Dulux Dog ad #Google ad #Heineken ad #Hoffmeister Bear Ad #J.R. Hartley #Joan Collins #Lowe Howard-Spink #Lucky Generals #Meerkat ads #Mr Bean ad #Rowan Atkinson ad #Smash Martians ad #Snickers ads #Specsavers ad #VCCP #Yellow Pages Ad #Yorkshire Tea ad

[spacevixenmusic]

I’m finally back to watching more Golden Girls and this is one of the funniest dark humor moments the show has ever done

#golden girls #rose nylund #sofia petrillo #blanche devereaux #betty white #rest in peace betty white #you were a national treasure #I wonder if any of these stories were ad-libbed because she tells them so NATURALLY

[retropopcult]

1976

#Paul Lynde Halloween Special #TV Guide #1970s #ABC #Tim Conway #Florence Henderson #Pinky Tuscadero #Margaret Hamilton #Billy Barty #Betty White #television #ad

[comfortfoodcontent]

1992 Golden Palace Series Premiere TV Guide magazine ad

#golden palace #golden girls #magazine ads #tv guide #rue mcclanahan #betty white #estelle getty #don cheadle #cheech marin #csi cbs #90s #1992 #90's vibes #1990s #90s tv #sitcoms

[silentevil77]

Tumblr why is Betty White asking me if I know the Bible 😭

#tumblr ads #tumblr advertising #tumblr dashboard #betty white #tumblr ad fail

[jolteongirltja]

I’ll let you guys try to interpret this

#my memes #betty white #queen elizabeth #my art #technically #dragon ball #9/8/2022 #september 8 #my post #each time a sexyman got voted out they added their energy to the spirit bomb #betty white sacrificed herself to form it but it needed more power

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

[gunk404]

New wallpaper check

Who/What things should I add to this image?

[CLOSED]

HERES ALL THE CHARACTERS ADDED:

Scout from tf2

That one yellow creature someone gave me

Randy from dialtown

Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance

Betty White from reality

Chonny Jash from reality

Markiplier from reality

Jerma985 from hell

Papyrus from Undertale

Sans from Undertale

The Spot from Into the Spiderverse

A bird in the sky from... the sky

Nagito from Danganrompa

Sundrop from FNAF: Security Breach

Rivers Cuomo from Weezer

Patrick Wilson from Weezer

Brian Bell from Weezer

Matt Sharp from Weezer

Danny Devito from reality

Matpat from GameTheory

Stanley from The Stanley Parable

Omgkawaiiangel from needy streamer overload/needy girl overdose

Cabinet Man from Lemon Demon

William Afton from FNAF

Metaton from Undertale

PHIL SWIFT HERE WITH FLEX TAPE!

Shrek from Shrek

Will Wood from Will Wood and the Tapeworms

Karkat from Homestuck

Cattie from the-cat-doctor

Carl wheezer from Jimmy Neutron

Image of dog with soda from orangmarkr

Remi from Ratatouille

Gorrilazgang's dog from reality

Jonathan sims forehead from Jonathan sims head

Neil cicierega aka lemon demon

Snom from pokemon who is no longer visible because theres a lot of shit in front of it

Jay from the-arcade-doctor

Jota from the-arcade-doctor

Spongebob Squarepants from Spongebob Squarepants

Bowl of salsa

Fax machine

Low baller from Toontown: Corprate Clash

I know what you are dog from the

#will wood #lemon demon #neil cicierega #will wood and the tapeworms #wee woo #wwatt #wwattw #ww #sundrop fnaf #sundrop #fnaf sb #weezer #blue album #spongebob #matpat #game theory #taco bell #william woodiam #wiliam afton #fnaf #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy's #danny devito #shrek #salsa #jermaposting #jerma985 #jermacore #jerma #dialtown randy

[genadelikesships1233]

Before i go to be some Good omens HC.

When freddy mercury passed away, Crowley was inconsolable and took a year long nap that Aziraphale had to wake him up from.

To add to the FM HC. Crowley would rant to freddy about Aziraphale and his love for him inspiring. "Somebody to love and Good old fashioned lover boy"

When Aziraphale gave Crowley the holy water, he went home and cried for hours truly thinking Crowley would kill himself.

Nina and Maggie doesnt exactly know what happened but they assume Aziraphale rejected Crowley.

Annathema and Newt broke up 2 years into dating because of infidelity.

Warlock visits Crowley sometimes.

Aziraphale asked muriel to sneak in a few books into heaven, Crowley tells muriel which to bring. Aziraphale's Favourites.

Aziraphale while in a womenly form for the first time got cat called and harrased so much that he never did again.

Crowley names his plants after demons he particurly hates.

Crowley has only killed 2 men, both tried to assualt her.

Aziraphale has killed 7 people. Most of them accidentally, one very purposefully.

When Nina met Aziraphale she assumed he was homophobic. But she didnt care so she hung up a pride flag anyway. He didnt know what a pride flag was.

Crowley has discorparated from alcohol poisening.

Crowley's snake form is a python.

Maggie knows the gavotte.

Aziraphale has had sex, in the gentlemens club.

Oscar Wilde had a crush on aziraphale that was immediatly friend zoned when Crowley called Aziraphale "Angel".

Crowley created the term of endearment "Angel"

Aziraphale knows how to tango.

Crowley is terrified of spiders.

Aziraphale has kissed Crowley on the head in his snake form before.

Maggie was bullied saverely that she gained an eating disorder. She has healed tho.

Nina has two gay dads.

Crowley tried to confess at Alexandria. But something came up. (Or went down)

He tempted Cieser's men to attack him.

Adam is a rainbow baby.

Beelzebub and Gabriel are asexual. But they arent sex repulsed.

Crowley is still technically a virgin. All tho he had lovers he never has penatrative.

Aziraphale is not a virgin anywhere.

Okay hope you are crying

Added

Aziraphale's wings arent white anymore, they are a shade of dark yellow.

Crowley has nightmares about the wars.

Aziraphale met hitler, he told him he would be an amazing artist

Newt is trans, FTM

Warlock uses They/he

Aziraphale got a drivers licence only to drive trucks of escaped jews.

Aziraphale can paint. Really well.

Crowley invented those weird shower thoughts.

Aziraphale accidentally invented the fez.

Crowley watches Doctor Who and really likes David Tennant.

Aziraphale hates Micheal Sheen.

Neil Gaimen is in the canon universe and has met Aziraphale and Crowley then wrote a book about them.

Crowley tempted exactly 14 teens into not killing themselves.

Aziraphale has been directly responsable for Crowley not killing himself purely by being there at the right time.

Sargent is a feminist.

Maggie had an emo phase

Nina still has an MLP phase

Crowley cried while watching titanic more than being on the titanic

Aziraphale laughs at horror movies.

Crowley get geniunely scared at horror movies.

Beelzebub changed zer face because Satan scarred it to much.

God doesnt know whats gonna happen next and she loves it.

Aziraphale reconized Crowley on the wall and thought "what did they do to you?"

Crowley also did and thought "Was he always this pretty?" Now that he wasnt distracted by stars.

Hustar had a small crush on Crowley.

Kids love Crowley's eyes.

The bentley wont change back to black, its stays yellow bc ut misses Angel.

Crowley has met Marilyn Monroe, he tried to help her with her addiction but he failed.

Aziraphale and betty white were friends.

Judie Dench.

#ineffable spouses #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable fandom #ineffable idiots #good ineffable omens #good omens ineffable husbands crowley aziraphale #good omens tv #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens headcanons #headcanons #ineffable husbands

[bryce-bucher]

Been Learning to Paint Old Cel Animation Backgrounds

Lately, I've had the drive to learn and practice creating digital paintings that closely resemble the traditional background paintings found in older anime. As a first step, I decided to grab a Kingsfield 4 screenshot from @moonlightfaust and use it as a reference.

I honestly ended up kinda surprised at how good I think it turned out. I haven't really tried painting a background before, and I think this is a very good first step for where I wanna be.

How I do it

Firstly, I loaded up my reference on my second monitor and started painting away in clip studio paint. I sketched things out at first and then used the default gouache brush for the broad strokes. I made sure to use a nice variation of colors and values on the surfaces to give them texture. After that I blended stuff together using a custom blend brush I grabbed called "wet betty", and then I used the thin gouache brush to work on smaller details. I drew out the caustics and then painted some blue lighting on the walls on a layer set to additive (glow). Here are some wip photos showing all that off.

After creating the base drawing, I brought it into Affinity Photo and adjusted the brightness/contrast and added a softproof adjustment layer to make it look as though it was printed. I also used a white mask of the caustics in order to make those parts of the image transparent.

After that, I brought the image into blender in order to simulate the cel animation look.

I'm using a variation of @jam2go's under-lighting method here in order to get that nice, naturalish glow. I'm using a special compositing setup in order to simulate the little variations in light and lens artifacts you might get from capturing cels that gets processed onto the final render.

I've also given the image cel plane very subtle bumpiness in order to simulate real celluloid not being completely flat. (It's a little hard to see, but I just subdivided it and used a displacement modifier)

The light artifacts and the cell bumpiness are both animated, and I also added very subtle noise to the position of the cell to simulate how each frame in cel animation isn't placed in exactly the same spot. After rendering, it all comes together to simulate a cel animation look fairly nicely I think.

Anyway back 2 gamedev now

#painting #gouache #digital painting #digital artist #cel animation #anime background #anime scenery #blender #blender 2d #jam2go #moonlightfaust #kings field

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here’s a bargain- a Scottish Castle for only $1.5M. It’s a “Spite Castle” built in 1906 by a duchess who was feuding with her in-laws. And, it’s also haunted by a ghost named Betty. 

Mary was the mistress of a duke who married her 4 mos. after his wife died, which was socially unacceptable and his family was very angry. When he died 3 yrs. later, he disinherited his children and left everything to Mary. 

The kids contested the will in court and Mary was found guilty of hiding evidence to secure her inheritance. She was sentenced to 6 weeks in jail. 

When she got out, she settled w/the stepchildren if they agreed to build her a castle. They agreed, but it couldn’t be on the family’s property. She chose land right on the border of theirs, high on a hill, so people would be sure to see it.

She added a clock tower, with a clock face on only three sides, with the side facing the family estate blank, so as not to give the time of day to the family.

Eventually, the family gave it to a Scottish Youth Hostel, with all the contents including Betty the ghost —perhaps the specter of a previous servant?

She became well known among travelers who stayed there. The hostel put it up for sale b/c it was too expensive to maintain.

A new owner gave it some color. One of the top floor bedrooms came to be known as the “spook room” because Betty, always dressed in white, tended to appear there.

The new owner was going to turn the 64 room castle into a residence, but decided to “sell up,” and put it on the market again. 

He fixed it up, though. And, still plans to give it a whopping 19 en-suite bedrooms and five reception rooms, along with a home theater, a home office, and a catering kitchen.

Plans also include a self-contained staff apartment and a spa facility with swimming pool, treatment rooms and gym.

Look at the sharp things on the ceiling.

They claim it needs a lot of reno, but it doesn’t look at all bad. 

https://www.dirt.com/gallery/more-dirt/real-estate-listings/spite-castle-scotland-house-ghost-1203563469/culrain_fp/

#haunted castle for sale #spite castle #historic scottish castle #long post

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Save A Tree, Eat A Beaver - Priestly x Rowena

“Save a Tree, Eat a Beaver” - Priestly x Rowena

Part 1 of Pets4Punks

Rating Teen (Part 1)

Priestly x Rowena

Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff and Flirting, Owls Go Bad, Zoo Shenanigans, Homage to Betty White, Spell Casting, A Comedy of Errors

Word Count: 3800

Priestly’s nursing a broken heart. Rowena’s exacting some magical revenge. What will unfold when these two meet at a Beastly Ball?

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Flirtation-Whiskey-A Mistake At A Zoo" square.

Image created in Canva (credit for photos used: “Ten Inch Hero”; movietvtechgeeks.com)

“Would that be an invitation, there, then?”

Priestly dabbed his brow with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. It was hot in the food tent. Even if Beach City Grill was serving up pre-made hero sandwiches, bookending vendors grilled and fried their fare with furious abandon. Other heat factors included portable spotlights and generators. The warm night breeze created a tiny suffocating vortex under the tent for Priestly to inhabit.

Priestly panted. Hot didn’t seem like an accurate description. 

No. When you added in the thousand or so bodies at The LA Zoo’s 37th Beastly Ball, the temperature downright sizzled. 

Priestly attempted to blink away his discomfort. A cacophony dialed his irritation up to ten. People chattered. A DJ spun another record through an obnoxious sound system with speakers the size of refrigerators. Even if the funds being raised tonight benefitted the zoo, he couldn’t imagine a bear or lion being okay with any of this. If there weren’t barriers in the way, he was pretty sure this entire crowd would be mauled to death by some very irate mammals. He only had so much patience for the human race of which he was unfortunately a part.

At least he’d get to see Betty White in person tonight. She was the Beastly Ball Chairman. That woman was a national treasure. And probably the only one that would be spared if the animals rose up.

He sliced up another of the more popular menu items being gobbled up by donors. The Mane Attraction hero had been a hit with the carnivores as suspected. Despite the surging heat, he’d kept his nose down and worked in the background the entire evening. Piper and Jen were the all-smiles servers, front and center, greeting the deep-pockets milling about the food tent.

“‘Scuse me, lad?”

It was the addition of ‘lad’ to the second question from a very Scottish sounding woman that had him look up.

Turned out, he didn’t need to look up very high. An elegant, petite wisp of a porcelain lady stared up at him. One of her copper-tinted brows arched. Lush, fiery red ringlets cascaded from the top of her head to her pointy elbows. A dusty peach wrap made of silk hung and clung to a body made for ballet. The chunky black vinyl belt with a sequin studded buckle cinched the dress in at the waist.

She was magically delicious.

Priestly smiled and wiped the roast beef gravy from his hands. He then pointed to Jen manning the front table. “One of our lovely servers will be able to plate up anything you’d like to try, Miss.”

“Including you?” Her coral stained lips curled up into a grin.

Priestly froze. He had to have heard her wrong in the middle of all the noise. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

One of the woman’s expertly manicured fingers pointed at his chest. “Are you being canny with that shirt? Or, would that be an actual invitation, there, then?”

Priestly gulped. “Um…”

The woman offered a playful frown. “Well, when you get your voice back, you let me know the answer, aye?”

*

Rowena didn’t have time to wait for the pretty punk boy to remember how to form sentences. So, she’d sampled the vegetarian sandwich the mousy haired twenty-something called The Panda Munch and then it was off toward the animal habitats.

She had work to do and little patience.

The rowdy bunch of guests, chatting and being all kinds of obnoxious for over ten minutes, had taken root by a particular set of sanctuaries that held her interest. 

She stood by the guard rail on the opposite side of the walkway, sipping from a champagne flute. Her fingernails tapped the top of the fence. She gazed over at a nearby pond. The current inner debate in her head was whether she should ignite the shoes aflame of the loudest person in the group or temporarily immobilize his tongue.

The ticket to attend this pathetic attempt at a soiree had been overpriced. Good cause her arse. A good cause was exacting any bit of covert revenge she could toward the Grand Coven. An even better cause was finding a way to unshackle her powers.

And what she currently required –to fund the greatest cause, which was herself– could be pilfered more easily under the veil of night. Amid distracted security, overworked zoo staff, and intoxicated guests, what could go wrong?

Rowena sighed and eavesdropped on the eejit in the lavender polo shirt drone on about the Lakers. She watched him pretend to dribble out of the corner of her eye.

A majority of the upper echelon of Angelenos could be trite and vapid. All surface, no substance. But that also made them easy to grift. If she stayed under the radar for another year or two, her little shop might be a very lucrative business.    

An announcement interrupted the awful excuse for music emanating from the stage some ways off where most of the guests congregated. Betty White would be giving a speech in about ten minutes.

That got the group moving.

“Finally,” Rowena murmured. She abandoned the glass atop the guard rail and sashayed toward her target. Her gaze landed on a security camera high atop a lamp post. She whispered, “Confractus.” A satisfied smile emerged at the subsequent sizzle and crack from the surveillance equipment.  

*

“Go, take a break.” Jen shooed Priestly with her hands. “Betty’ll be on soon. I don’t want to hear you complain later about missing that.”

“Are you sure?” Priestly untied the black waist apron.

Jen nodded. “Anything that makes you smile should not be denied.”

Priestly knew Jen really wanted to say, “We’re sick and tired of seeing you all mopey since Tish moved to New York.”

“Maybe you can get her to autograph your shirt,” Piper added with a giggle.

“Betty appreciates a dirty joke.” Priestly nodded with certainty.

Jen cleared her throat. “You’re definitely making a statement with it.”

“Oh! Don’t forget that dude at the Whiskey distillery stand said to stop by and get us some samples in exchange for these.” Piper shoved three wrapped sandwiches in Priestly’s hands.

“Right, I’ll go do that before Betty. Back faster than The Flash.”

*

Rowena had gotten turned around more than twice on the Employees Only path. Nestled amid the Night Wing area terrain, the dirt walk lacked signage for the untrained. A paltry number of floodlights scattered warm amber streaks here and there to guide the way.

Why didn’t the coordinators of this benefit include a flashlight in their extra large swag bag? “Buncha beetroots,” Rowena mumbled, hefting the cumbersome tote over her shoulder. At least she could have both hands free when needed later, what with her tiny clutch now in the bag’s bottom.

To add to the indecency of the two other cameras she had to decommission along the path, a staff member had chanced upon her stumbling through foliage in black vinyl thigh high boots. Steel nerves she’d forged over a few centuries rattled only for a second. The young male, whose time on this planet tallied up to nothing more than a couple decades, had been quite amicable. He’d politely offered to escort her to the main path. 

Rowena thanked him and followed his lead for a few yards while he made small talk. She fished out her clutch, found a hex bag, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and then glamoured him. He rotated slow and turned to face her. 

With syrupy sweetness, Rowena asked to be directed to the owl habitat entrance and unlock it. He stammered, with dilated pupils and enamored smile, that it was only his third day on the job and he didn’t know which gate that was. 

“Well, there shan’t be any harm in you opening up a gate or two for lil ole me, would there?” She batted her long lashes even though there was no need. Rowena did enjoy leaning into theatrics.

The junior zookeeper bobbed his head, turned, and floated back the way he came. “Follow me.”

*

The abrupt temperature change required Priestly to slip on his tartan plaid vest over his t-shirt. Away from the benefit crowd, the night air cooled slick spots of sweaty skin.

Listening to Betty White wax poetic about her love of animals had made all the hard work worthwhile. She’d even given him a cheeky little wink from the stage. Seriously, Priestly thought he might have a major crush on the woman. She was even funnier and more radiant in person than he’d expected. She could be his Golden Girl any damn day of the week.

After he, Jen, and Piper toasted with Whiskey samples to a job well done, he’d been released from cleanup duty. Excitement filled the segment of his brain in which the still six-year-old part of him resided. Okay, so it wasn’t like he was sneaking through the zoo. Staff members stationed at various checkpoints and exhibits nodded in greeting as he passed. But the grounds, typically experienced in the light and warmth of sunshine, now crackled with a forbidden energy.

It was nice to feel some excitement. His emotional state of late had been devastated. He hadn’t been able to shake himself out of the volley between self-pity and feeling responsible for Tish’s move. Maybe if he’d been more (more what, though), she would have stayed and they could have worked things out.

The three shots of whiskey had not helped the spiral of self-doubt. He hadn’t been enough. Pure and simple. Had it been juvenile to think his “normal” makeover would have been the key to winning over the girl of his dreams? Of course. Did that make it hurt any less that it hadn’t worked out? Of course not.

He recalled the flirty, testy banter with Tish over the years. She could slap him onto a sizzling griddle or submerge him in a bucket of ice with that sharp tongue and flippant hair toss. That drew him to her even more. He admitted to himself early on that he really liked how she took charge of a situation and gave zero fucks. That was what she presented to everyone on the surface, anyway. She’d been hurt. Sensitive. Cautious to risk any more of her heart. The armor had thickened. Just like him.

In the end, they’d been pretty compatible. But, in hindsight, most of that had been due to his ability to bend and compromise. She didn’t tell him much about what she wanted. He had to guess. Trial and error. And that attitude had transferred to what happened in the bedroom.

Priestly wasn’t a fucking mind reader. He didn’t have a clue. He figured she liked confidence and showmanship between the sheets. The kind that could run a porn marathon without breaking a sweat.

But that wasn’t him. And he could only keep that up (heh, child) for so long.

The same went for the preppie exterior he tried on to win her over. A few weeks after their first kiss, he snuck back on one of his piercings. Then another. And another. And another. Then the hair got dyed (fuschia). Then spiked up with gel. Next, he sported some eyeliner. He pulled out a signature statement t-shirt here and there. Dusting off the kilt might have been the last straw for Tish.

But he wanted to like the reflection in the mirror. All that skin-shedding pleased Tish. Not him.

So, the relationship met its inevitable conclusion and broke his heart. They’d agreed to revert to friendship status. He hadn’t expected Tish to up and leave a couple of months after that, though.

Jen had said it best one day. Tish probably couldn’t piece herself back together again here, around him. Fresh start and all. Finding your fucking self and all that bullshit.

That was all fine and good for everybody else. How was he supposed to figure that out for himself? Would he ever find someone that was willing to learn that along with him?

*

The zoo minion had been quite helpful for Rowena. Three gates unlocked in total. He’d made suggestions on the best direction to begin the owl search after her explanation on where they liked to hide. She’d thanked him kindly, pilfered his tiny flashlight, and then wafted a Forget Me spell over the man. “You won’t remember me or any of this. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? You deserve it for being soooo helpful.”

He toddled off repeating, “Sooo helpful.”

Times like this, an assistant in the dark arts would be a boon. This kind of menial labor, well, it was beneath her to be honest. Having to scour grasslands for a hole in the ground? She might as well be a pig, snout covered in dirt, snuffling for truffles.

Though truffles were delicious, she was in search of a Burrowing Owl. She’d done her research of course. No self-respecting witch starts something without the proper information. Sourcing all the ingredients for this divination spell –one of her own crafting– was a daunting task. But, what was the saying these Americans liked to bandy about? Go big or go home?

And one didn’t diddle with the Grand Coven without a well thought out plan. One required impregnable magic that a dozen of the most powerful witches on the planet would attempt to untangle.

Rowena held more power in her pinky finger than any of them before the Coven had punished her egotism and shackled her abilities. She needed to get that power back and back at them in the process. But in order to find what would cut right to the core, divide and conquer, would require eavesdropping. The divination spell would uncover the cloaked locations for those she needed to sentence for their condemnation.

Rowena’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. Silhouettes danced around the beam of white cast by the flashlight. Flying insects sparkled in the halo of light like falling snow. Her toe boots dug into the dirt here and there.

What would she do if this didn’t work as she hoped? She’d paid a high price for what she’d been told were the feathers of a Burrowing Owl on the black market. When the spell fell flat the only thing that could have been incorrect were the bloody feathers. But who would she complain to or demand a refund? Boris, or whatever his name was, wasn’t registered with the Better Business Bureau. She already had enough enemies.

So, it appeared serendipitous when an invitation for the Beastly Ball landed in her mailbox. She’d made a call to the LA Zoo’s information center and chatted with a lovely woman. The tale of having a daughter obsessed with owls spilled with ease and believability. This made-up child had been going on and on about an owl that squatted in another animal’s home in the dirt. They were in luck. It just so happened the zoo had a burrowing owl in their exhibit. The woman on the other end did warn Rowena her daughter might be disappointed, though. The chances of seeing one during the day were quite rare. 

Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d disappointed an offspring. 

More importantly, the universe sent her a clear message.

Take matters into your own hands.

Several minutes passed. A strong breeze rustled swaths of grass. Lots of ginger steps and toe boot shovels later, she came across a promising hole. Her heart raced. She bent down to inspect with a ruffle of fingers along the grass. A sharp quill pricked her thumb. Her hand cascaded over the soft frills of a feather. Then another. And another.

Hopefully, the feathers belonged to an owl that had fit itself into the burrow of another animal (or a facsimile of one made by a staff person). It had to be a Burrower!

Three feathers snatched off the ground were stuffed into her swag bag. Rowena surmised they would have fit into her little clutch as well. However, the bag proved an auspicious benefit souvenir.

She rose and dusted off her hands. Eyes closed, she inhaled deep, then exhaled. When she opened her eyes, she oriented her direction as best she could. She could reverse-track the way she came. A sigh released from her throat, satisfied. One step closer. She began the journey.

She passed once again through the forested area of the exhibit, which, in her opinion, better-suited owls. The sharp smell of pine filled her nose.

Her steps halted at the alien chuckling right above her head. Rowena stared up and squinted. She debated for a moment before shining the flashlight upon the sound source.

A set of bright yellow eyes peered back at her. It chuckled again. The tiniest owl Rowena had ever seen wasn’t spooked by the light. It couldn’t have been any bigger in stature than her hand.

“Aren’t you a curious little thing?”

It tilted its head as if answering in the affirmative. Rowena could make out expertly lined white eyebrows created by its feathers.

Rowena had always wanted an owl.

Was this another message from the universe?

Rowena pursed her lips.

There was only one way to find out.

*

Priestly stood under the spotlight by the Night Wing exhibit map. He’d learned a few new interesting facts about bats and owls as he continued to read.

A commotion within the fenced area pulled his attention from the signage. A figure bursted from the tree line a couple of yards away. He jumped back in surprise. “What the…”

He squinted. Crouched on the ground, the person gasped, almost hyperventilating.

He blinked in recognition. It was the red-headed woman earlier from the food tent who’d made quite an impression. “Are you alright?” he stammered out the question.

Her head shot up. Wide eyes stared back framed in a wild mess of curls. He gulped at the skin on display under the lamp post light. Tiny red marks crosshatched along her arms and bare back. She clutched a tote over her chest. The top half of her dress hung in tatters over her belt.

Priestly raised his hands and approached slow. “What happened?” He knelt beside her.

“I-I-” She waved a hand, arms tight to her sides so the flimsy bag’s material could preserve some modesty. “I went down that path” –she pointed back from where she appeared– “and, a bunch of the exhibit gates were opened.” Her voice cracked. “Before I knew it, there were owls and bats, everywhere, and I-I got caught in this awful melee.”

Priestly wanted to pat her in comfort. But, considering she was half-naked, he thought better of it. “The gates were opened?” he asked, incredulous. He scanned the path as far as he could in both directions. “Where the hell’s an employee when you need one? Is this Best Buy? They were everywhere a little while ago.” He muttered to himself before gazing at the woman. “You’re hurt. I’m gonna go get some help.”

He rose, only to be snatched up into a fierce embrace. She fisted his vest with both hands. The tote’s canvas material, which held some stiff objects, smushed tight between their bodies. “No,” she begged. “Please, don’t get anyone. I’m in such a state. I’ll be mortified.”

Priestly lifted his hands up and away so there was no chance of an accidental brush or touch. He felt like the one in trouble at the moment. “Um,” he thought out loud. An idea formed. “Listen, you need to get looked at by someone. But let’s work on getting you out of here first. Okay?”

She nodded into his chest. He inhaled. Her scent was rather pleasant. Spicy and sharp. 

“Why don’t you go behind that sign there? I’ll give you my shirt to put on.”

“Alright.”

He breathed in relief when she released him. A fast blur scurried around the area map. Without wasting time, he peeled off his vest, dropped it to the ground, and then tugged the T-shirt over his head by the collar. He turned around and stepped backward until his side hit the hardwood of the sign. “Here.” Eager fingers snatched the material from his hand.

“Thank you.” 

The lilt in her voice fluttered Priestly’s heartbeat. Goosebumps formed on the back of his neck. He wanted to blame it on the cool air skirting along his bare chest. “No problem,” he said. He tried again. “Are you sure I can’t go and look for some help? I think I saw a medical tent near the stage.”

“No!” She expelled the word with force from her throat that time.

“Sure. Sure.” He mumbled as his gaze scoured the ground. He picked up the discarded vest and plunged his arms through the openings. The benefit coordinators probably wouldn’t appreciate a punk Tarzan impersonation.

“I’m very grateful for this. Truly.” The woman called out. “What can I call you, besides my knight in shining armor?”

He chuckled. “Um, Priestly.”

“Presley?”

“No, Priestly.” He emphasized the “t”.

“Oh. Priestly,” she repeated. “I’m Rowena.” Her voice was closer now, no barrier between them.

Cautious, Priestly looked up. He couldn’t help but smile at the vision before him. She stuffed the remnants of her dress in the big bag. The forest green shirt, slightly roomy on him, swallowed up her slight frame. She’d wrapped the big black belt around it. The bottom hem fell just above the top of her thigh high boots. Her fingers threaded through the mane of hair to wrangle it in place. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Rowena.”

She sighed and grinned at him. “Aye. But, we might not have met again if not for this.”

He recalled her flirtation from earlier. He stared at the design and text on the shirt he had custom made for the Beastly Ball. A cartoon panda munched away on some bamboo. A text bubble above the panda’s head declared in big, bold font: Raw Dog Me, I’m a Bottom.

She strolled over and rested a hand on his vest. “How can I ever repay such chivalry?” She whispered something else after the question… something he couldn’t make out.

Before he could ask her to repeat what she’d said, his thoughts clouded. Nothing seemed very important at the moment. A sense of relaxation washed over him.

“I would very much appreciate a walk back to my car, Priestly. And, I promise I’ll make sure I get myself straight to a hospital.”

He nodded. His head bobbed and swayed. “Good idea. I mean, yeah, bats and owls. You probably need a rabies shot.”

“Probably so.” She nodded in agreement. Her grin reached her ears. She held up a business card and tucked it in another one of his vest pockets. “But, you. You’re going to stop by my shop soon to pick up this shirt, aye?”

He smiled, then nodded. “Aye.”

~~To Be Continued~~

Story Notes: Google pics of a Burrowing Owl and the absolutely adorable Elf Owl. I have plans for this story to fill four bingo squares over as many parts. Things are gonna go off the rails (and probably quite smutty). Will see how my first foray into writing for Priestly goes. Also, so many thanks to @sam-is-my-safe-word for brainstorming all the chaos and kink with me.

#jacklesversebingo23 #boaz priestly #rowena macleod #fanfic #light angst #fluff #humor #flirting

[longliveblackness]

Esther Jones was known on stage by many names, including “Baby Esther,” “Little Esther,” “Farina’s Kid Sister,” and “Miniature Florence Mills,” is widely, although not universally, credited with being the inspiration for the Betty Boop cartoon character. Jones was born Esther Lee Jones in 1918 in Chicago, Illinois, to William Jones and Gertrude Jones.

In 1928, the Jones family moved to Harlem, New York. At seven, Jones was later known for adopting the popular singing style, scat, which emphasized the baby-style of “b” and “d” sounds and nonsense syllables such as Boo-Boo-Boo’ and ‘Doo-Doo-Doo.’ Consequently, she was a sought-after child performer in the city, and was a fixtured entertainer in the famous Cotton Club and the Everglades Nightclub in New York City during the latter years of the Harlem Renaissance. She added to her entertainment fame by become an extraordinary black-bottom dancer.

In 1929, Jones was taken to Spain, where she was called “La Pandilla.” Later she performed before Sweden’s Queen Sophie Marie Viktoria and King Gustaf V, in Stockholm. Despite her notoriety, she also experienced blatant racism when denied a glass of milk in an American-operated restaurant in Stockholm. The business, however, was forced to close after her treatment there became public knowledge.

Jones performed at the Moulin Rouge, Casino de Paris, and the Empire in Paris, France. There she was dubbed the “Miniature Josephine Baker.” While in Europe, she was paid an average $750 per week for her performances and by age 11, Jones was the highest-paid child on stage globally. After performing, Jones would go backstage to play with dolls. Whenever she performed, both parents were in attendance.

In 1930, Fleisher Studios in Hollywood introduced the cartoon character Betty Boop. Jones, however, received no royalties or performing credits despite the fact that a lawsuit would eventually expose Betty Boop’s true origins. The lawsuit ironically was brought by Helen Kane, a white performer, who sued Fleisher Studios for appropriating her “Betty Boop” character without her permission and without the payment of royalties. Over the course of the Fleisher Studios v. Kane trial, it was revealed that Kane had begun mimicking Jones’ scat act and even sang the same song, “I Want to Be Loved By You’ including the “Boop-Boop-a-Doop” reference. When Kane lost the lawsuit, other studios felt emboldened to promote the Betty Boop character but it recognized neither Kane or Jones as the source.

In 1934, Jones, now 16, performed in Philadelphia at a midnight benefit performance for the NAACP. That same year, she gave a stellar performance at the American Embassy in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil at the request of then Ambassador Jefferson Caffery. Brazil’s President Getúlio Dornelles Vargas, was in the audience and praised the performance and performer.

By 1940, however, the entertainment career of now 22-year-old Esther Jones, was over. She was no longer a child singing or dancing sensation. Esther Jones, now widely credited with influencing the iconic sex symbol Betty Boop, died in 1984 in New York City from liver and kidney complications. She was 66. Regardless of her role in the development of the Betty Boop cartoon character, Jones should be remembered as a child star with a brief but remarkable career in the entertainment industry.

•••

Esther Jones fue conocida en el escenario por varios nombres, incluyendo: “Baby Esther (Bebé Esther),” “Little Esther (Pequeña Esther),” “Farina’s Kid Sister (Hermanita de Farina),” y “Miniature Florence Mills (Florence Mills en miniatura). Generalmente, pero no universalmente, acreditada con ser la inspiración del personaje de caricatura, Betty Boop. Esther Lee Jones, nació en 1918 en Chicago, Illinois a sus padres William Jones y Gertrude Jones.

En 1928, la familia Jones se mudó a Harlem, Nueva York. A la edad de siete años, Jones fue reconocida por adoptar el famoso estilo de canto llamado ‘scat’ y resaltaba los sonidos de bebé que sonaban con ‘b’ y ‘d’, junto con sílabas que no tenían sentido como: Boo-Boo-Boo’ y ‘Doo-Doo-Doo.’ Consecuentemente, esto la convirtió en la artista infantil más buscada de la ciudad. Se convirtió en una presentadora fija en el famoso Cotton Club y el club nocturno Everglades en la ciudad de Nueva York, esto fue durante los últimos años del Renacimiento de Harlem. Le agregó más a su fama cuando se convirtió en una bailarina de black bottom (un paso de baile relacionado con el jazz tradicional).

En 1929, Esther fue llevada a España, dónde le llamaban “La Pandilla”. Poco después de eso, hizo una presentación en Stockholm frente a la Reina Sophie Marie Viktoria y el Rey Gustaf V de Suecia. A pesar de su notoriedad, también experimentó racismo muy evidente cuando se le negó un vaso con leche en un restaurante operado por americanos en Stockholm. Sin embargo, una vez que el trato que se le dio se hizo público, obligaron a que el negocio cerrara.

Jones se presentó en Moulin Rouge, Casino de Paris, and the Empire, ubicados en Paris, Francia. Es aquí donde le dieron el apodo de “Josephine Baker en miniatura”. Mientras que estuvo en Europa se le pagaban aproximadamente $750 por semana y con solo once años de edad, Jones era la artista infantil mejor pagada a nivel global. Después de sus presentaciones, ella se iba tras bastidores a jugar con muñecas. Sus padres siempre estaban presentes para las presentaciones.

En 1930, Fleisher Studios de Hollywood introdujo un nuevo personaje, Betty Boop. Y a pesar de que una demanda demostraría el verdadero origen de la caricatura, Jones nunca recibió crédito o derechos. Irónicamente, la demanda fue interpuesta por Helen Kane, una artista que había demandado a Fleisher Studios por apropiarse de su personaje “Betty Boop” sin su permiso y sin pagarle sus derechos. Durante el juicio Fleisher Studios v. Kane, se reveló que Kane había comenzado a imitar el acto de scat de Jones y que incluso cantaba las mismas canciones como ‘I Want to Be Loved By You’ incluyendo la referencia: “Boop-Boop-a-Doop”. Cuando Kane perdió la demanda, otros estudios se animaron a promover al personaje Betty Boop, sin reconocer a Kane o Jones como la fuente.

En 1934, Jones, ahora con dieciséis años de edad, hizo una presentación en Philadelphia para una noche de beneficencia de la Asociación Nacional para el Progreso de la Gente de Color (NAACP). Ese mismo año, a petición del embajador Jefferson Caffery, hizo una presentación estelar en la embajada americana ubicada en Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. El presidente Getúlio Dornelles Vargas se encontraba en la audiencia, elogió la presentación y también a la presentadora.

Para 1940, con veintidós años de edad, la carrera de Esther Jones en la industria del entretenimiento, ya se había acabado. Ya no era una sensación infantil que bailaba y cantaba. Esther Jones, ahora extensamente acreditada con ser la influencia del símbolo sexual, Betty Boop, murió en 1984 en la ciudad de Nueva York, por complicaciones renales y hepaticas. Tenía 66 años. Independiente de su rol en el desarrollo del personaje, Betty Boop; Esther Jones debería de ser recordada como una estrella infantil que tuve una carrera corta pero extraordinaria.

#culture #knowyourhistory #like #follow #newpost #historyfacts #blackgirlmagic #black women #black women matter #blacklivesmatter #blacklivesalwaysmatter #english #spanish #blackhistory #history #share #read #blackpeoplematter #blackhistorymonth #black lives matter #blackgirlsread #blackbloggers #blackownedandoperated #black girl icons #black music #b #black history is american history #blm #betty boop #knowledgeisfree

[aemiron-main]

Bob and Mr Baldo- Was Bob Abused As A Child? Was There Ever Really A Mr Baldo?

So, I talked in this post about some of the stuff from the TFS auditions & Bob comparing himself to Will & Betty Olsen/Newby being creeped out by Father Newby & how that may have implications for Bob having been sexually abused. And now, I’m looking at the whole Mr Baldo scene in a new light.

So, I also talked here about the parallel between Mr Baldo’s white glove and Brenner’s white glove, but let’s go through the rest of the scene.

Bob talks about being a little younger than Will and being at the Roane County Fair- which means that Bob was in Hawkins when this happened/likely living in Hawkins.

And moving on, the word choice in this next part is interesting- “every night he would come to me in my dreams.” (also staring at phangomgate and “in dreams he came to me”)

Why not just say “every night, I had nightmares about him,” or “every night, I dreamed about him.” Why the more complex wording? Why use wording that almost makes it sound like somebody else was physically coming into the room?

Especially with Bob talking about how he “couldnt get him out of my head,” vs very similar wording being used to describe Vecna, who has heavy sexual predator imagery.

And THIS line really made me do a double take:

Bob talking about getting his mom to physically stay in the room with him. Again, much like the “every night he would come to me in my dreams,” line, it ties back to things being physical/in the real world rather than simply in dreams- after all Bob’s mother cant protect him from dreams. So if dreams were the problem, why wasn’t Bob afraid of the act of sleeping itself? Why was he completely able to fall asleep, but only if he knew that somebody else was physically in the room?

And there’s also the fact that Bob mentioned that his mother would only stay until he fell asleep- which explains how the abuse would have continued, as Bob’s mother would leave once Bob was sleeping, and the predation would have been happening when Bob was sleeping anyway.

And we also have Bob talking about how the issues with Mr Baldo only stopped after he spoke up & told Mr Baldo to go away- which would make sense in the context of Bob being abused, and how nobody realized it was happening until he spoke up, since as he said, he would run away every other time it happened.

And how Bob never saw Mr Baldo again- almost like how if it was Father Newby bothering Bob, he may have been arrested.

Like maybe I’m insane but part of me wonders if there was ever a Mr Baldo, or if he was just added in by Bob to make the story more appropriate for Will.

Hell, I won’t be surprised if Father Newby is bald & that was why Bob made up “Mr Baldo.”

And speaking of fat, white gloves…..

#stranger things #bob newby #st the first shadow #the first shadow #tw csa

[thesandsofelsweyr]

HIS

《 CHAPTER 2/4 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

Jason has been beaten half to death with a crowbar, shredded by barbed wire, strung up for so long his shoulders ripped from their sockets, shocked, starved, branded… It's only a wooden paddle, it can’t hurt more than any of the Clown’s other toys… right?

《RATING》 🔞 Explicit 《WORDS》 1,362

《CHARACTERS》 Jason Todd/Robin, Joker, Bruce Wayne (mentioned)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Whump, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

《WARNINGS》 Humiliation, Forced Nudity, Non-Consensual Spanking, Paddling, Ownership, Torture, Blood and Injury, Non-Consensual Touching, Scars

《SERIES》 Part 2 of My Arkhamverse, Part 2 of Ruined

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @millyhelp @betty-1880

《NOTES》

This fic is dark (and will get even darker in the following chapters) so be aware of the tags (especially the DD:DNE tag)

If you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist, you can submit a request here!

Kudos & comments on AO3, as well as reblogs here, are greatly appreciated 💛 (I'd really love to see this fic get more attention so that I'll be inspired to finish writing it!)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated)

The first blow was harder than he’d ever imagined, the second blow was even worse. Joker was swinging that heavy wooden paddle like a baseball bat, driving his scrawny body into the side of the desk with such violent force that the solid wood desk bucked beneath him.

“Five sir,” Jason grunted as thousands of red hot needles stung his bare ass.

Before the sting of the last blow faded, before he could prepare himself for the next blow, before he could even catch his breath, another loud CRACK shot through his storage room cell then searing pain exploded in his paper-thin flesh. “Ssssix, ssssir!” he hissed through gritted, broken teeth. Every muscle in his emaciated body was pulled taut as he fought to keep still while the paddle landed again and again across the same burning stripe of skin. There was hardly any meat protecting his skinny ass so he felt each bruising swat all the way down to the bone.

CRACK! “Eleven, sir!” CRACK! “Twelve, sir!”

The Clown was continuing his “angry dad” routine but Jason had tuned him out while he focused on surviving each horrible stroke. He clung to the lip of the desk as if it were a life raft, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. With his ear pressed against the wood, he could hear his heart hammering in his chest as his malnourished body absorbed shockwave after shockwave of tremendous pain.

CRACK! “Thirteen, sir!” CRACK! “Fourteen, sir!”

CRACK! The paddle tore into the tender skin where cheeks met thighs, right above his dangling balls. “Fffffifteen, fffffuck!” He bit down on his tongue a split second too late to contain the curse.

Immediately his heart leapt into his throat and he flinched as Joker rubbed the flat of the paddle against his blistered asscheeks. “Was that a naughty word I just heard?”

“No!” he squealed desperately, remembering the time the Clown had duct-taped a sudsy bar of gooey soap in his mouth before stringing him up by the wrists then leaving him dangling for hours—punishment for his “naughty words.” “No sir, please. I didn’t mean it. Fif-fifteen, sir. Please. It hurts so much,” he begged breathlessly.

A whoosh of air licked against his vulnerable sack a heartbeat before the paddle cut across that same tender crease of stretched skin. CRACK! “Sixteen, sir!” Jason shouted, his legs straining painfully against the urge to close them and protect his nuts from that wicked piece of wood.

Whenever Willis had been sober enough to notice him, he’d find an excuse to beat him. When he wasn’t using his fists, he’d whip him bloody with a belt, leaving angry red welts down his back, ass, and thighs that lasted for days. But this pain was different. Each stroke seemed to burn his humiliation, his weakness, his cowardice, his failures, his shame, deep into his flesh like the brand on his cheek. Another agonizing reminder of how helpless he was to resist, how he was no longer in control of his life. How he let himself be treated this way because he was too afraid to fight back.

CRACK! “Twenty… ohhh… twenty-two, sir,” he moaned.

There was no predictable rhythm to the blows. Sometimes the psycho would hit him several times in rapid-fire succession, and Jason could hardly keep count. Other times Joker would wait long, agonizing minutes before hitting him again, teasing him with soft taps before the torturous blow.

Jason clenched his throbbing ass as the paddle rubbed hard circles over the bruises, then—CRACK! “Thirty-five, SIR!”

The burn grew hotter and hotter with each brutal blow, the sting more maddening, and before long he was squirming like a child to avoid getting hit across the same raw band of angry red skin, his voice increasing in octaves until he was nearly squealing like a piglet. Sweat dripped from his forehead, into his eyes, stinging them.

CRACK! Joker had given that one a bit of an upswing. His head snapped back and he yelped, “AH! Forty-seven, sir!”

Not even fifty strokes and he already felt tears wetting the corners of his eyes. “Pathetic,” a familiar voice echoed in his head, and his racing heart shriveled in his chest. Batman scowled at him. “You just reminded me it’s better to work alone,” his old partner growled before shaking his head in disgust and turning away, leaving Robin behind. Jason squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to hold back the hot tears of shame threatening to spill down his ruined cheeks.

CRACK! “Fifty-three, s-s-sir,” he cried, his voice finally breaking with the dam of tears.

A gloved hand seized a fistful of sweat-damp black hair and wrenched his head back, yanking his neck into a painful arch. “Are you crying already? I’m just getting warmed up, baby boy.”

The fist loosened and Jason’s head fell limply back against the blood-stained desk with a thud. “I’m sorry sir,” he whimpered feebly.

Joker sighed. “I suppose I should’ve expected as much. Why did my ol’ Batsy keep you ‘round for so long? His munchkin army was much more impressive before you sullied its ranks.” Jason choked back a hollow sob as Joker continued to mock him. “I don’t think the first Boy Blunder would be boo-hoo-ing right now, do you? And what about the girl? I doubt a little hide-tanning would have her in tears.”

Shame reddened his face. “No sir,” he agreed wanly with a sniffle. He hated being reminded how he didn’t measure up to the first Robin, how he deserved to be thrown away, to be replaced with a better model. One that wasn’t a useless, sniveling coward.

Joker sighed again, then tapped the paddle against Jason’s burning ass, lining up his next shot. Jason sucked in a quivering breath and gripped the lip of the desk even tighter.

The blows that followed were even more brutal than the first fifty-three.

“This is no more than you deserve.” CRACK! “Running away from your Batdaddy,” CRACK! “trying to take down the big, bad Clown all by yourself.” CRACK! “Did you really think you could kill little ol’ me?” CRACK! “I asked you a question!” CRACK! CRACK!

“No sir!” he wailed. “Fifty-nine, sir!”

“Liar… liar… pants… on… fire!” Joker punctuated each word with overlapping blows and Jason was on his toes trying to redistribute the awful pain. “I took you in when you fell into my lap,” CRACK! “after your Bat-daddy abandoned you.” CRACK! “Put a roof over your head,” CRACK! “food in your belly,” CRACK! “even let you keep the clothes on your back.” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “And you repay the kindness of my heart,” CRACK! “by running away?” CRACK! CRACK! “That broke my heart, sonny boy.” CRACK! “I thought we really had something special,” CRACK! “you and me.” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

“Seventy-nine—ah! Please, I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry!” he sobbed, squirming as the paddle rubbed hard circles over his battered, burning flesh. “Please,” he rasped, “please forgive me—ohhh…” The paddle tapped his ass, and he braced for the next blow. When the blow didn’t fall, Jason stupidly prayed the punishment was over until he felt Joker bending over his back, then a gloved finger traced the J on his cheek.

“How can I forgive you,” Joker asked softly, dragging a bony finger over the curved and puckered letter, “if I don’t believe you’re truly sorry for what you’ve done?” Joker pressed down, rubbing the brand harshly with the pad of his thumb, irritating the scabbed skin. Jason winced. “I thought this would help you remember your place, but you’ve forced my hand, kiddo. You still haven’t learned your lesson.”

“I have sir, please, I swear. I’m your sidekick,” he panted. “Yours.” CRACK! “Eighty, ugh! Please! This is my home now, I know. I know. I swear to God I’ll never run again.”

Joker gave his branded cheek a soft pat. “Oh I know you won’t, my darling baby bird,” he cooed in his ear before straightening and resting the heavy paddle against Jason’s black and blue ass. “But just in case you start to forget, you need a reminder of what happens to naughty little boys who misbehave.”

#sands writes #my arkhamverse #series: ruined #fic: his #jason todd #joker #robin #arkham asylum #arkham knight #arkhamverse #whump #angst #dead dove: do not eat #jason todd angst #jason todd whump #jason todd fanfiction #dcu

[apolsup]

There's plenty of time

characters: Fionna Campbell, Simon Petrikov, Betty Grof (mentioned)

Pairing(s): Simon Petrikov/Fionna Campbell

a/n: this was supposed to be shorter lmao, I added a few words, changed some. Its still mostly the same ت

I have no idea how to make a good title...

The dark haired man sat in the grass, somewhere close by his new house, having moved from the previous one only a few weeks ago. It didn't really bother him that much, he never got too attached to it anyways. His gaze was lost on the moon, almost feeling like it was looking back at him. The music in the back of his mind present as multiple memories and different thoughts threatened to overwhelm him.

"Hey, dude?" ah, right. When he was about to forget where he was completely lost in his thoughts, Fionna's voice brought him out of them, suddenly grounding him. The blonde leaned towards him, looking up at the taller man with concern and something that resembled determination, because even with her nerves on edge and her skin as red as possible, making her freckles dissapear from foreign eyes, she felt the courage to tell him all those feelings that she had been harboring for months.

"I have something. Something really really important, that I seriously need to tell you" she began, and there was no turning back since his attention was fully on her now, making her feel even more nervous under his curious gaze.

"this may sound a bit weird, or even crazy... But I think that, during all these months I have realized that... That I feel something for you, something different. Something that you could not like, but I really need to tell you this, man. It has been eating me alive for so long and so im tired of hiding how much I like you. Because I do, I- I think I love you, Simon" the tone in her voice demonstrated the seriousness of her words. A tone that the man with the silver streak of hair was not used to hear from the shorter woman.

Simon frowned, his white snowy eyes escaping the baby blue gaze that reflected the dark sky.

"you... I-" he looked for the correct words, visibly shocked by her sudden confesion "this is more complicated than you think, Fionna" he sighed

"My heart has been closed for so long... I don't know if I'm even capable of this anymore. To open myself to someone in that way" his words always being so carefully picked. Fionna then took her companion's hand with determination, sending an electric sensation to the depths of his heart

"give me a chance. Just one chance, man. Let me take care of your heart, let me take care of you, I... I really want to do it" she said, leaning dangerously again over Simon, who, because of his nerves was leaning back, bringing his hands to the wet grass and squeezing it there, searching for the answers to his problems.

Love was a strange thing, wasn't it? It always appears when you least expect it, before you can even realize what it is. To Simon it was like that, in the blink of an eye the woman he saw as a close friend, who he shared a deep bond with became the person his heart and mind ached to be with, to care for, that plead to make happy and in response to be happy with her... To him, the time didn't matter, it wasn't of use, because even with the passing of the months he still couldn't forget about her.

The abysmal distance between them did nothing to appease the growing fire in his soul as well. Even the difference in their ages, that at first made him reconsider his own feelings, was not able to hold him long enough from seeing her in that way, because in the end of the day they were both grown adults, mature enough to make their own choices, adults that met eachother only a few months ago yet they felt like they knew the other from even longer.

And the temptation of those lips was becoming too much for the taller man to handle, with the woman who tormented him every night in his dreams practically on top of his lap, looking for his acceptance and his love. The woman's voice hypnotized him, her gaze made him lose himself in space, and her gentle hands on his own made him shiver.

All of it was too much, so in the midst of the darkness that enveloped them, their lips met in an awkward kiss.

Despite the scratchy wounds on Simon's lips, constantly bitten by the anxiety and stress caused by his life in Ooo, Fionna loved them tenderly, wanting to hold his face and kiss it, wanting to heal his wounded lips with all the love overflowing in her chest, wanting to fill the man with hope in the middle of the emotional desert he had inside of his heavy heart.

As they separated, Simon felt a mix of emotions. Doubt and fear still loomed, along with a bit of guilt for feeling like he was betraying the red-haired woman he had loved for years. But he knew that Betty would never come back, and he knew that even she would agree with him doing this, after all she was the one who gave him the chance to rebuild his life and maybe... Just maybe, this was what he needed. Feeling that his long gone lover was giving him this opportunity with Fionna gave him a glimmer of hope. And when the blonde left his lips she gently caressed his face, looking into his eyes.

"you don't have to accept right away" she told him in a tone he couldn't describe

"I'm willing to wait for you, no matter how long it takes" she intertwined her fingers with his and looked at him, smiling sincerely.

Those words filled the short haired man with gratitude and something he had missed feeling, joy. He realized that, perhaps, this was the right thing, during his weakest moments it was thanks to her that he truly smiled, and maybe with her he could seek a path where he finds himself feeling better, feeling happy.

All of the emotions were too much for him to handle, and his eyes started to let thick tears run freely, letting out a silent sob. It had been so long since he had been able to cry and now he was doing it in front of the woman he wanted to love and take care of, the one that had an understanding smile for him.

So Fionna wrapped her arms around him, letting him let his emotions out as much as he wanted and in turn she felt a pair of arms wrap her waist, a shy and weak grip on her side at first but it became strong as he gained confidence. For hours they held each other in their arms, and in the light of the all knowing moon, they felt that maybe. Just maybe. Things would turn out ok for the both of them.

#petribell #simonna #simon x fionna #fionna x simon #apolwritez #kinda ooc #but who cares #Still love those two together they make my heart go bwbabwjwbjqbsjwbwb #Once again posted it first on the amazing petribell discord server wooo #I just love promoting it its so fun #english is not my first language #Sorry about possible typos