#the snark and sass

[medicine-and-muscles]

Egg.

[probadbatch]

My favorite part of this episode was Phee meeting Crosshair and immediately giving him shit

[obiscribbles]

Week 30 - October 22nd, 2023 'Love Never Fails' - Brandon Heath Spotify / YouTube

Just a few more things to sign and then you can properly fall asleep in his arms, foolish Jedi.

Enjoy~

View a week early on my Patreon!

[epiphainie]

oh tomhen bffism you're everything to me. "boy im gonna eat your lunch and you better pay up" "could be why i haven't been getting your christmas cards" "in fact i'm letting him set the pace and i'm just trying to keep up"

catty best friends catty best friends catty best friends catty best friends catty best friends

[jojosbizarrekakyoinobsession]

I love, love, LOVE how once Kakyoin becomes close with his new friends and feels comfortable with fully expressing his true self around them, he occasionally lets himself drop the good boy honours student façade and turns into the rudest and snarkiest crusader ever, and of course this snark is mostly directed at Polnareff and sometimes Joseph. He somehow outranks Jotaro for being the rudest at times lmao.

[medicine-and-muscles]

*scoffs in 20 feet*

Snorts in 90 feet.

"Ya so cute down there"

[bonebrokebuddy]

It’s time for a, “things I sent to my twin’s inbox but she said I should post myself because I never post my own work and she’d like if I stopped spamming her inbox with ideas but I forgot about it and just kept it in my drafts notes for months and now finally I’m posting the fucking things.”

Or for short:

DP X DC PROMPT #7:

————————————

Danny visits metropolis and people are deadset on believing that Danny is either Clark’s little brother or his nephew from Illinois… despite that Clark can literally not be related to him. Not that the people at the Daily Planet know that, but even the ones who do know are giving him a hard time.

“I’m adopted Jimmy!” Clark threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You are very aware of that.”

“But he looks just like you Clark, you even talk the same!” Jimmy peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Danny talking to Lois in the employees lounge.

“He has a upper midwestern accent. I’m from Kansas, Jim. Not all midwesterners know each other!”

“So?”

“Jimmy. You know damn well why we can not be related.” Clark subtly gestured to his cheap “I believe in aliens” mug. Jimmy was Clark’s best friend and most of the time he really appreciated the kid’s keen eye but Jimmy also seemed to be constantly dead-set on figuring how to give Clark a headache.

“But he looks like a mini you! Have you asked him if he has a spare spaceship lying around anywhere?” Jimmy snarked as he glanced over to Danny and Louis who were finally heading back from their break.

“Jimmy, I will put you on the moon and leave you there.”

“Alright sheesh. I get it, I’ll drop it.”

[am-i-soup]

them!! i adore these kiddos. they're my favourite humans in any continuity. they're such realistic teenagers and good characters in general (miko haters FIGHT ME she is my adhd girly and i won't stand for this slander)

a lot of people get annoyed by the kids, but i love the energy and family dynamic they bring to team prime. the autobots really need that after the terrible things they've experienced in the war (the kids are also funny and have adorable relationships with the bots and bring out the kid in bee, which is so precious)

[and-the-times-we-had]

I'd love to see what would happen if you put Thorin Oakenshield, Thingol, and Feanor in a locked room together.

[faceofpoe]

Okay but I just think like...

"I belong in here" and "It's what I deserve" and "I'll draw his fire" Crosshair

Who helped the Empire conquer and occupy planets

Who was sent to rendezvous for missions at the battle memorial even as the Empire was purging clones from its ranks

Who resisted the effort to erase his identity

Who arranged the helmets of Mayday and his fallen squad the same way he'd watched Mayday do

I think maybe he'd take an interest in the Archium one day and perhaps funnel his remorse into its mission.

All of this to say: Phee & Crosshair treasure-hunting, tracking down artifacts with significance/meaning to the clones spinoff adventures when?

[aheroonahistorybookpage]

"Tommy's sass just makes it seem like he's condesending."

No, babe, if they wanted him to come off as sassy, they would make sure he comes off that way. He comes off as condesending on purpose.

[all-all0s-eyes]

Not going to elaborate or spoil or anything I promise.

SYSTEM COLLAPSE IS AMAZING.

That is all.

(!!!!!!)

[spacedace]

Here, have a snippet of the Jason & Steph sibling bonding portion of the DP x DC AU I wrote 10k words for since last night in a haze of post sickness/burnout creative burst, featuring some Anger Management because of course it does lol

(I call it a snippet but it’s like...3k words lol)

Trigger Warnings because most of this snippet focuses on them running around Crime Alley and shit that goes down in it: references to drugs, overdoses, domestic abuse, child endangerment (if I miss anything let me know and I’ll add it). Nothing expliciet or details but they are things mentioned as happening because, well, Crime Alley.

-

Spoiler shifts subtly from foot to foot on the rooftop, hands open and ready at her side as she split her attention from watching him and checking the street below for signs of trouble. Her gaze was sharp on the girls working the corner, tracking for any hint that the man talking them up was making any of them uncomfortable even as she made sure Jason didn’t suddenly dart across the ten feet between them to strike out at her.

“George Conrad.” He said, satisfied that his sudden breaking of the silence didn’t make her jump though did catch her attention fully, fingers twitching warningly towards her belt. He nodded his head down to the street and the large man rummaging through the bag he brought with him. More of the girls had huddled up around him. “Not a john. Not even from Gotham.” He explained, shifting to walk over to the edge of the roof, giving her his back as he did. “His son Kyle ran away from home while George was oversees and ended up working the streets. George tracked him down once he was back in the states a few years ago but by the time he made it here Kyle had been killed.”

She moved to join him at the ledge, still leaving space between them but not enough for his guns to be as effective. Smart, vigilant, but still with a soft enough heart to stop and listen to one of the many tragedies that played out in Gotham’s darkest streets.

“What happened?” She asked, eyes softening on the big man in question as he started handing out ziploc bags. Jason knew very well what they held, and wondered if Spoiler could make out the finer details from the distance they were at. Sandwiches, granola bars, water bottles, condoms, clean needles, wet-wipes, little travel sewing kits, over the counter pain meds. Anything and everything George had ever been told would be appreciated or useful by the sex workers he spoke to.

“Overdose.” Jason answered, grateful that the distorter built into his helmet disguised the tightness of his voice. Memories of a cold body on the floor, stiff and waxy with distant glassy eyes. “Got mixed up with the wrong person. Boyfriend. Not a big player but,” He shrugged and knew that Spoiler would understand. It was how a lot of people got mixed up in sex work when they wouldn’t have normally. Boyfriend that promised the world, the painful fall into being pressured to sleep with said boyfriend’s friend, then another, then another. “One of Daisy’s boys was a neighbor and figured out what was going on, Daisy helped get him out but it was too late by then.”

Below one of the girls, younger than the rest - an adult, because he wouldn’t allow anything else in his territory, but still new to the scene - surged forward to wrap her arms around the old man. George gave her a gentle pat on the back, pushing her back gentle to dig out a card from his pocket. A list of numbers for her to call, shelters and organizations that could help, his own number in case she ever needed anything. “They chipped in for a funeral for him. Gave George somewhere to go and mourn. He’s been here ever since, trying to look after them all. He works as a bouncer at Daisy’s these days but he always does the rounds when he isn’t working.”

“People never get this part.” Spoiler mused, voice going soft and distant. “They always think the Alley is just…” She waved a gloved hand, “Trash and monsters. They can’t seem to get that there’s more. Just…people. Some really good ones even.”

He smiled behind his mask. There was a reason she was the one of the whole Bat Clan he’d decided to trust with this.

“Come on.” He said, waving her after him as he began an easy run that’d let them both move easily from rooftop to rooftop. Spoiler hesitated a moment, but at length followed, quick and quiet as she darted from shadow to shadow in his wake.

They spent the following couple of hours meandering around Crime Alley at an easy clip. Squat roofs and rusted fire escapes, narrow streets and dark corners. Pausing to jump in and handle anything that popped up or at particular spots of interest where he’d point out places and people. The chop shop run by the ragged gang of teens and children some of the gangs had been angling towards that needed looking after. The homeless encampment nestled between the grimy apartment building Daisy O’Neil had taken over to run her business out of and the tiny, almost forgotten pauper’s cemetery. The usual roosting spots for the drug dealers, the gambling dens, the little family owned cafe that had the best Tantuni at midnight and even better Turkish coffee at the crack of dawn.

It was as they perched on top of this last one, tucked back in the shadows away from view as Spoiler devoured the freshly made Lokma that Mrs. Solak insisted on making fresh for them when they stopped by that the question finally came.

“So what exactly is all this?” Spoiler asked, popping another of the sugary, honey covered Lokma in her mouth. He’d shoved the container Mrs. Solak had given to him over to her after eating only a few, knowing she was going to try to steal them anyway if he didn’t. “When you said you needed my help with something in Crime Alley, I was expecting…I don’t know, drug runners or something.” She popped another golden dough ball in her mouth, cheeks round as a chipmunk and voice muffled as she said, “Not a tour of the place.”

Jason let his head fall back on the brick of the rooftop entrance behind them, eyes scanning the glittering horizon of the Gotham skyline, trying to sort out his answer. He had talked about how he was going to do this with Jazz, practicing what he was going to say, what he wanted to reveal, what outcomes he could expect from the whole thing. When he left he’d felt confident about it all, riding high on the warmth of Jazz’s kiss and the fluttering thumps of little legs kicking against his hand. Now that he was here though he felt lost as to how to begin.

“I’m hanging up the mask.” He finally said. It wasn’t quite like the first time he’d said it out loud, in the privacy of his apartment, curled in bed with Jazz, only brave enough to whisper it in the dark. There wasn’t that rush of anxiety and relief that had hit him at finally saying what had twisted over and over in his head for weeks leading up to that moment. Now there was just the settled feeling, the certainty, the surety of being on the path he wanted to be on. “I wanted to ask if you’d look after my territory me when I do.”

Spoiler gaped at him. “Wait, seriously?”

He almost laughed, he settled on giving her a lazy smile. “Seriously.”

With her masked pulled down so she could eat her treats he could see her wide eyed, disbelief on her face easily. “Why?”

He gave a shrug, aiming for nonchalant. “This used to be your territory for awhile, right? You’re from here, you know the Alley and the people and how it all works.” He felt his smile go softer, “I trust you to be able to keep it safe.”

Spoiler’s - Steph’s - expression softened at that. “That’s…thank you.” She glanced out the same way he had before, face caught in something bittersweet. “I…I hated this place growing up. I still do, kinda. I think everyone that lives here does. But I still missed it, it’s still…still home.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, mind turning over his childhood. The constant fear and hardship. Living rough even when he did have a roof over his head. His father’s heavy hands. His mother’s slow wasting. Crime Alley was a complete shit hole, one where the worst of the worst tended to gather. But it wasn’t all monsters. There were good people too, just trying to scrape by. Old George wandering the streets handing out necessities to working girls and boys. The Solak family and their little shop, giving out the left overs to the street kids and homeless. The Nightingales, crammed into their two bedroom apartment, just trying to get by. “I knew you’d get it.”

They sat in silence for awhile. Steph chewing over his request and her Lokma, Jason lost in memories of the past and wistful dreams of the future. At length the blond next to him bumped his shoulder with hers, head tilting at a questioning angle. “I…I really appreciate what you said, about why me.” She said, awkward and touched in equal measure. “But…I was actually wondering why you were stepping back.”

He was ready for that question, he was. He’d initially just wanted to leave it at none of your fucking business but Jazz had - wise as ever - pointed out that he was asking her a favor, and a big one at that. He might not be comfortable with the rest of his family knowing everything - or anything - but Steph at least deserved an explanation as to why he was asking her to take over his territory.

“You tell anyone this, and I will kill you.” He started and then cringed internally because that had not at any point been something that had come up in his practice conversations with Jazz. Oh well, any more ooie-gooey feelings talk and Steph probably would have thought he was replaced by a pod person or something. “I’m seeing someone.”

The faintly alarmed look the blond vigilante beside him had melted away in an instant, replaced by a sly, mischievous grin. Hellion. One whiff of gossip and that’s all it took. “Ooooh, Big Bad Red Hood has a heart after all.” She crooned, ignoring her earlier reticence to get too close and leaning dramatically against his side. “Who is it huh? Anyone I know? Ooh, is it someone in the Outlaws?”

He was reminded of before he died, suddenly. Of teasing Dick over his latest crush over a beautiful red head that could kick his ass like a proper annoying little brother. In an echo of that moment so many years ago, he shoved Spoiler off in the same way Dick had done to him, rolling his eyes at her dramatic squawking as she nearly dropped her treat to disguise the small smile that wanted to curl at his lip. He swiped at the container lazily, a feint at stealing it back that resulted in a brief scuffle that ended with him popped a few of the Lokma in his mouth as she tore the container - that he had given to her in the first place - away, holding it close to her chest like a precious treasure.

“No, no one you know.” He answered at last they finally settled down. He paused for a beat, gaze turning back to the city as he added. “She’s a civilian.”

Spoiler looked considering at that, chewing at one of the last of the Lokma thoughtfully. “So what’s going on then? You do a face reveal and she asked you to quit the vigilante business?”

“No.” He said, taking a small, steadying breath. Better to just rip off the bandaid. “She’s pregnant.”

Spoiler went still beside him, laughing eyes shuttering and face falling into a neutral mask as she stared at him. After a long, long moment she gave a small, unreadable little, “Oh.”

Jason fought the urge to fidget. Oh. It could mean so many things. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh how nice. Oh boy I can’t wait to tell Bruce about this. That last one, admittedly, was unlikely. Spoiler was on good terms with most of the Bats and Birds but she and Bruce had long had something of a rocky relationship. No where near as bad as what he and the old man had, but still enough that she was probably the very last person to willingly go hunt Bruce down to share all the details of Jason’s private life unless she thought it particularly necessary.

The silence stretched on. And Jason knows what silence does to a human brain. Four seconds of quiet during a conversation after saying something registers as rejection, caused feelings of anxiety and apprehension, even caused the same signals in the brain as physical pain. Prolonged silence and steady attention at the same time caused an urge to fill the quiet, to speak and keep speaking until the other person says something. It was something Bruce taught him, guiding him along in his Robin days on how to perform interrogation and get the person they were questioning to spill their guts.

He was taught too how to outlast that silence in situations where he was being questioned. Both by Bruce and by the League - though the interrogations that he was meant to resist under their teachings had far more than long awkward silences to contend with. He knew how to clamp down on that instinctive drive to keep talking when faced with stillness like this.

And yet, somehow he could stop himself.

“I just…I think about being a kid and my dad going to work,” He said the word with appropriate amount of vitrol, “And then never coming back. Him dying in jail and it just being me and my mom trying to scrape by. Or…or with Bruce. Knowing that I was always going to place second to the Rogues and the city. I just…” His head dropped back on the brick behind him, eyes closed and throat tight. “I can’t do that to my kid. I’m going to be there. I’m going to make sure they’re safe and happy and that they don’t ever have to worry about if their old man is coming home or not.”

It was a nightmare he’d been having, since the morning he and Jazz crowded over a couple of pregnancy tests and saw the results. Dying out in the gutter and shambling home as a ghost to see the grief he left behind. Jazz crying, a child who’s features he could never make out standing in the doorway the way he would stand at the entrance of the cave when he was too injured to go out with Batman. Waiting in painful silence and burning tears to find out that his father was dead.

“I’m not…I’m not cutting out of the life completely.” He said, trying to focus past the squeezing in his chest, trying to force the conversation back into a conversation rather than him just pouring his bleeding heart out to a blank wall. “I’m going to talk to Babs, see if she’d be alright with me helping with some of what she does, or get something similar setup solely for the Alley. I’m going to keep tabs with my guys on what’s going on and work with them that way. And if there’s anything big, obviously you guys can call me in, I’m not just going to sit back if there’s a city wide threat or worse, I just - “

There were arms around him, suddenly. Warm and strong as they wrapped around him, a face pressed into his shoulder, his nose tickled by blond hair.

He sat there, frozen for a long moment before slowly, lifting his own arms to return the hug. Steph gave him an encouraging squeeze. “I get it.” She said, voice whisper soft and almost lost as she spoke into the leather of his jacket. “I think…I think if I’d been older, if I was more able to keep her…I think I would have done the same thing.” There was a faint sniff as she finally pulled away. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m happy for you.” She moved to gently head butt him, “And I’m honored to take over watching over this shithole of ours.”

Jason gave a watery laugh, not even caring that he was crying as he scrubbed away some of the tears that had burned down his cheek. “Thanks Blondie. Steph.”

She rocked back on her heels, arms crossed as her expression turned suddenly serious. “I do have one condition though.” At his look the seriousness melted away into an exuberant grin. “I want to meet this mystery woman of yours. Wait!” She brightened, “Two conditions! I want to be there when you finally tell B and the rest! I am not missing the look on their faces when you tell them!”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her, sending her tumbling into the container of Lokma and sending the remaining fried dough balls rolling across the grungy roof. Steph squawked, dropping to her knees before the thoroughly ruined sweets as dramatic as if it was her one true love laying dead before her. “They were so young, so innocent!” She wailed, throwing her head back as if to howl at the sky in mourning before snapping back to him, finger pointing at him accusatory. “You! This is your fault! I will have my vengeance!”

The rest of the night was spent darting from rooftop to rooftop in an echo of the game of tag he used to play with Dick and Babs years ago. Tackling each other and fighting without actually aiming to do real damage. Only pausing to jump down to the street or through a window here and there to knock some heads together.

By the time he was heading to the Dead Man’s Hand so he could walk Jazz home - or whisk her off to his safehouse, if he was lucky and she was able to duck her siblings for the day - he felt lighter. Steph would look after the Alley, the people he protected. He’d work with her over the next few months, get her integrated with his lieutenants and make sure she was familiar with the ins and outs of his little slice of Gotham, make sure she was as ready as she could be to take over for him.

[infiniteentertainment]

honestly they should bring mean robin back in s5. just for a bit

[hellsingmongrel]

Honestly, I think one of the best things about Trigun is how Knives ABSOLUTELY could have won, but he was stupid. He let his brother go, instead of keeping him on a short leash. Knives thought that Vash would just crumble and break under the long years of trauma and pressure and sadness, and he'd be easy pickings later, would willingly come back.

But no. Instead, Vash picked himself up off the ground, leaned on the humans who supported him when he needed them, and spent the next 50+ years training his body and his mind for what he had to do. He didn't let himself break, no matter how much he wanted to, he redirected all of that pain and suffering he'd experienced, losing a lot of his naivete and innocence along the way (though tbh, that was already happening well before Knives did what he did, anyway) but becoming stronger in himself and his convictions.

Vash still carries a lot of guilt and trauma and self-hate, yes, but he knows he's the only one who can stop his brother, and he's going to make that Knives' problem. He kept his morals and his kind heart, despire everything that was done to him, and until the very end of their war, he refused to give up on his dreams of seeing everyone living peacefully together.

[foreveranevilregal]

I have to share the most incredible dream I had. The other night, I dreamed that I was in Traitors US season 2. I guess we were doing a night mission and I was running across a parking lot with Sandra (because who else could I keep up) with and she had a Mercedes. Everyone else had huge cars but she had this sleek looking black Mercedes and it suited her.

Then we cut to voting but instead of at the round table we were all on a couch in like a trailer and trying to decide who to vote for, and Parvati throws out, “How about we hear from someone quieter?” and looks around and I, taking this as a challenge, ask, “So are we not looking at Parvati anymore? Because she’s acting real sus. And once I get murdered in a night or two, because she’s not dumb and won’t do it right away, you’ll know I’m right. You can also vote me out to test me but I’ll stand up in front and say I’m a faithful (I was) and you’ll have wasted a vote.”

I guess voting happened after this and I don’t know who got banished. It wasn’t Parvati though, because afterwards she follows me into the hallway (at some point the setting transitioned back to the castle?) and pulls me aside. She opens her mouth, getting ready to lay into me, and I cut her off and say, “You want me to stop gunning for you? Recruit me. I promise I’ll accept and I’ll redirect the conversation as best as I can if your name gets brought up again.” And I meant it too. If I were a traitor I’d try to protect my fellow traitors as much as possible.

Whatever she was expecting, it must not have been that. I had her cornered, good and proper, and she knew it. She looked absolutely murderous. I think she kinda respected my manipulation game though. She looked so pissed and I thought she was gonna slap me or something, but she just starts walking away. And I call out to her, “You look hot when you’re mad.”

She turns around and does a double take, not because she doesn’t know she’s hot, but because me…saying that…? And her brain was processing that information and any implications held therein. I wasn’t even hitting on her, I just wanted to throw her off her game even more. For good measure, I blow her a kiss too. And then I woke up from probably a top 10 dream I’ve ever had.