#annual romani

[restingknight]

Wishes, dreams, and paths unite for the sake of the future, the hope of new year.

gave him new years glasses BEAST style. (They're also a holy grail bc of course they are.)

[kelaeri]

The Many Languages of Dick Grayson

Apparently, according to Nightwing #54, he can speak 12, so I went on a little quest to see just how many I could identify.

Starting off with The Essential Batman Encyclopedia, the entry for Dick Grayson lists him as being trained in French, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, and Cantonese with having some proficiency in an unknown Romani dialect. Given there are multiple examples of him speaking these languages throughout the comics, I am inclined to trust this claim. To start, we've got several examples of French (Gotham Knights #14, Detective Comics Annual #12, Nightwing #73, Grayson #10-- also featuring Spanish)

In Grayson #1 he speaks Russian only briefly, but in Detective Comics #36 he speaks it throughout.

As far as the Chinese languages go, while I believe Dick can speak Mandarin and/or Cantonese fairly well (Batman/Superman World's Finest #3), his Hanzi recognition and literacy could use some work.

Similarly, when the Titans head off to Japan in Titans Annual #1, we have Nightwing speaking Japanese in battle; however, when it comes to the prospective job of being a manga translator in Nightwing #125, he claims he doesn't know Japanese, which leads me to believe he is only proficient in speaking Japanese/Chinese and struggles with the writing systems.

So what about the languages not covered in the encyclopedia? To start, we have another romance language: Italian (Nightwing #72).

Followed by some alleged German (Nightwing #51, JLA #44)

And conversations in Farsi (Robin #175)

While I've seen some Tumblr and Reddit posts claim he knows Kikuyu, The Power Company: Manhunter #1 only says he "brushed up" on his Kikuyu before going to Kenya, so it is unknown how much of the language he actually speaks, but to me it doesn't seem likely to be a lot.

He also, to some unknown degree, speaks Tamaranean-- at least enough to hack into an alien computer (Action Comics #842).

As far as unspoken languages go, Dick is fluent in ASL, which is proven numerous times when he communicates with Jericho (New Teen Titans 1984).

And lastly, the two languages that remain rather uncertain are Romani and Cant-- largely due to the nature of the languages themselves and their representation in comics. "Romani," for instance, has several different dialects, and when Devin Grayson introduced it for Dick (Gotham Knights #20-21, Nightwing #91), she never specified which, and based on the lines she wrote, her research into the language was questionable at best. Writers since have recognized Dick's Romani heritage, but have not otherwise suggested he retained much of the language to be considered fluent.

Cant is an even wider term than Romani and can be seen as more of jargon for a particular language than a language itself, sometimes even being called a "pseudo-language." The colloquial term for American circus cant is Carny, or "Carny speak" as Boston Brand puts it in Batman: The Brave and the Bold #14 when he and Nightwing encounter a kid who speaks it.

So... this leaves us with 11 languages Dick has notable proficiency in: English, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, German, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Farsi, and ASL. And ~3 languages he has unknown proficiency in: Tamaranean, Kikuyu, Romani, and Carny/Cant (if you want to count it).

Maybe memory-loss Dick was including either Tamaranean or Kikuyu in that count from Nightwing #54, or maybe he knows some other language we haven't seen yet. Given how close the family is to the Al Ghuls, I personally think it would be cool if one of them was Arabic.

But anyway, hope you enjoyed this post! A lot I've seen covering this topic are very surface-level and label some of his more iffy languages as "fluent," so I hope this cleared things up. I've read tons of Nightwing, and I swear there are more examples, but sifting through the 1,000+ comics I've read of him is a lot haha. If y'all know of some others, let me know!

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Harley Quinn, former bad guy, anti-hero and unemployed therapist chases after Nightwing (Dick Grayson) as he tries to get away from her while on patrol.

Nightwing: Stop chasing me!

Harley: Then have a chat with me!

Nightwing: How did you find me!

Harley: Babs told me.

Nightwing stops running causing Harley to halt her running as well. He puts his index finger up and presses his communication device.

Nightwing: Babs, what the heck?

Oracle: She begged me and I can't say no when she pinpoints my mental health issues! Just let her spend some time with you.

Nightwing looks down at Harley who has a big smile on her face. He runs the other direction as Poison Ivy walks over to the group while watching 'Little Shop of Horrors' on her phone.

Ivy: He caved yet?

Harley: Not now, babes. Follow me.

Harley chasses after Nightwing. Her girlfriend casually walked behind her.

Harley: Stop running! Why are you running?!

Nightwing: Because I don't want you touching me! I am not a piece of meat!

Harley: I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were uncomfortable with the butt smacks!

Nightwing: I was very vocal about it!

Harley: Do you think that stems with some trauma in your past?

Nightwing: Stop therapizing me!

Ivy (pausing her movie): This is the smartest approach, Harley.

Harley: Ivy, not now!

Nightwing runs around Ivy and uses her as shield, then shoves her on Harley.

Nightwing: You chasing me doesn't prove your point.

Harley (pushing Ivy off of her): Let me make amends.

Nightwing(whining): NOOOO!

Harley: I made a full bill of health at Arkham. And I may not have the diploma, but I can be your-

Nightwing (in angry romani): Me sem bahtalo tumare progresosa, numaj te aven dur mandar!

Harley: What?

Nightwing stops at a fence and turns to Harley.

Nightwing: I said, "I am happy with your progress, but stay away from me for now!" It... It will take some time. Okay?

Nightwing jumps a fence and keeps running.

Nightwing (over his shoulder): Bye!

Ivy: See ya, kid.

Harley: But... Shit!

Harley tries to climb the fence, but Ivy, best friend and girlfriend uses a vine on her hip before she jumps the fence.

Ivy: Harley, don’t do that impulsive thought.

Harley: But they need a therapist. All of them, Jacey ran from me, now Nightwing? Why can’t I catch a break?

Ivy: If I may, it has something to do with working with the joker, who killed one of them, tortures the batfamily on an annual basis... oh and you won’t take a hint to give them space.

Harley glares at her girlfriend.

Harley: It was a rhetorical question!

Ivy (chuckling dryly): Aww, Harls, you know I don’t care about that. He did say it takes time, he's saying you have a chance, but at this moment of time, no. Remember I’m not dumb either. I worked more in science for botany over what you do, but I can see when someone doesn’t want to talk or want your therapy services.

Harley groans, bending back: You’re right, I’ll give 'em space. Plus you didn't say I slept with my professor.

Ivy: Please, you wouldn't degrade yourself like that... Get with a homicidal lunatic who thinks clown makeup is scary, but you are not the type who tries to get easy A’s in school.

Harley: Damn straight!

[winteriron-trash]

rdj the (whitewashed) electric boogaloo

This is a reminder to everyone who's excited about RDJ's casting as Doctor Doom that this casting is whitewashing. Victor Von Doom is a Romani character and has been a Romani character since his introduction in the 1960s. (Fantastic Four Annual #2 [1964]) Not only that, but his Roma identity and the persecution he and his family faced due to it is integral to his character, it is what forms his identity. (Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker) Even if on the off chance this casting is meant to not be Victor but instead be some variant of Tony or whomever else becoming Doctor Doom, it is damaging to the character to rob him of that important cultural background. Doctor Doom does not exist without that history. Fans have been pushing hard to cast Doom as a Romani actor for years, especially since the MCU has whitewashed other Romani characters. (Wanda, Pietro, etc) This casting is not a celebration moment, it's fucking heartbreaking that the MCU repeatedly ignores the important and nuanced cultural backstories of characters.

I know I can't change anybody's mind on whether or not you want to be excited about RDJ's return to the MCU. But I do think at the very least you should be mad that the MCU is baiting us all and destroying nuanced and interesting characters for the sake of self-referential easter eggs and nostalgia bait. Because that's what it is. Feel how you'd like to feel about RDJ's return, but personally, this is soul-sucking. I had such a deep love for the MCU as a teenager, it was obviously something incredibly formative to me, especially Tony Stark. This isn't recreating what I fell in love with the MCU for. This is turning a well-planned and artistic storyline of adaptations into cheap cash grabs and fan service. Because, I think we're past the point of being able to call the MCU an adaptation of anything. They can use existing characters' names and powers, but to say they're being properly adapted is laughable.

This is not an adaptation of Doctor Doom. This is RDJ the Electric Boogaloo because Marvel's fear of losing the interest of dedicated MCU fans overrides their willingness to tell stories that are genuine to the characters. I don't know what there is to be excited about that. The MCU has lost its authenticity and aside from a few projects, feels heartless. Every movie is a copy of a copy. This announcement isn't something celebratory, it feels like a death knell of a cinematic universe that's so desperate to cling to relevancy it's resorting to nostalgia for a character/actor who hasn't even been dead for a decade. We're not getting anything new, we're just rinsing and repeating the same song and dance.

I get it. I love Tony Stark, his death destroyed me and I to this day, rue the ending he got in Endgame. It misunderstood his arc and it robbed him of a satisfying conclusion. But the solution to that isn't dragging the corpse out of the grave five years later to whitewash an existing character with rich and interesting nuance, just to forcibly tie his existence in the MCU to Tony. Whether he is a variant or not. Why would you want someone else's fave's legacy to be destroyed simply so your fave's legacy can go on? Hell, if we were really all so hellbent on the return of RDJ and/or Tony to the MCU, we have the multiverse for a reason. There were other ways to do it that didn't whitewash and ruin someone else. This just. Isn't something to be happy about.

[imperiuswrecked]

Victor von Doom & his parents Cynthia & Werner, are Romani. Kirby/Lee created Doom in 1962 & revealed his origin in 1964 > 60 years of undisputed canon Romani Dr Doom. Comics used the G-slur for a long time. Victor is very proud of his Roma heritage, and it's an integral part of his character. The racism and oppression he experienced growing up set him on the path to becoming Doctor Doom.

Fantastic Four (1961) Annual 2

Power Pack (1984) #53

Books of Doom omnibus

Doctor Doom (2019) #3

Books of Doom #1

To say "It doesn't matter" or that Marvel's cast of RDJ was the best choice for the character is racist whitewashing erasure. It doesn't matter if RDJ is a good actor, he took the role of a Romani character that was meant for a Romani actor.

Actors who could have been cast:

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii could you do a fic of Frollo x a gypsy/romani reader, where he's madly in love with the reader and the reader loves him back? I love your fics btw!!!

My only light

warning : fluff, implied comfort, age gap, fem reader, kissing

Info : Hiii dear anon thank you so much for this request (very happy that you like my fics) finally a disney one and for Frollo ahhh. I really liked writing this so have fun reading and everyone else too ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was his light, his fire, his angel. She was what he had always been looking for in his life. He had never committed sin but he would have done anything for her and she would have done everything for him. Her Judge.

His wife at his side the view of the unusual couple on the people of paris was still not clear even the archdean did not know at first if it was all a trick so that the judge would get more power. But no, it was not. Judge Claude Frollo had indeed lost his cold, stony, selfish, sinful heart to a woman. His beautiful wife.

His angel who was in her prime and would stay with him for a long time. ,,My gift from God" as he sometimes called her when they got out of the carriage together in public or when he took her with him to parties.

The meeting of the two was so unlikely that it could only have come from God. The judge left his residence and rode through the streets on his horse to get to the tailor.

The annual spring festival was just around the corner, and what better way to express prosperity than with clothes and jewelry. It was an easy walk to the tailor through the streets of his town plagued by sinners, whores, drunks and addicts.

A city that was on the brink of the abyss and could only be brought to salvation through him. Redemption that he would unwittingly bring to them with a woman at his side.

The small golden bell on the door announced his entrance as always he was unflattered by the owner but the judge was only interested in the important fabrics the dark purple and red the black for his robe as his eyes brightened a little.

It was colorful fabric that should not be in the department here. Lifting his gaze, his eyes met hers. His lovely flower. The long dark hair that lay beautifully against her body, the lips as if she had tasted a cherry and the juice had kissed her.

The captivating eyes behind the long eyebrows, the moving body and the "exotic" skin that peeked out from under the colorful clothes. But it was her smile that captivated him, not something of a witch, not a dishonorable gypsy. The smile of his angel. A meeting that brought the two of them together in a small shop.

The traveling nun who helped people on her journeys through the country, blessing them, giving them gifts and caring for them. His counterpart, where he had hate she had love, where she had luck he had bad luck. She in her prime, he under the moon almost at the end.

They were each other's side for better or worse. But it was a meeting that brought them both together. He enjoyed her stories and she enjoyed his clavichord which he played for her every night when she was on the couch.

They shared a glass of wine and maybe he felt young again for a moment when she took his hand and danced with him around the music room. Her lovely smile she gave him that warmed his heart everytime over and over. Her sweet kisses like a little fire on his skin that she gave him.

He stroked her hair, smelling the lavender scent that emanated from her. The flowers and blossoms were her passion as he found out. It was only necessary for him to present her with books, with flowers he had shipped in from other countries.

Her room had almost become a jungle through which he had to navigate to get to his wife. Where she welcomed him with a smile as always got into his arms and showed him what she has found out.

A new world for the man who only knew hate and sins but soon saw the beauty in her work. ,,My Judge," she always joked, knowing that he also had a nickname for her when he kissed the ring he had given her, the ring that sealed their marriage. It seemed that Frolllo's image of the two of them was not only washed clean by the way they behaved.

She showed him a world without sin, they both built children's homes, hospital camps and even enjoyed the time of feastivals. ,,I could never say no...not to my angel," he whispered to her as the two of them sat on the wooden thrones under the tent. His gaze on her as always, love in his eyes, love in her smile she gave him.

The best thing about the festival was that his hands, which were always folded on his lap, were taken by his angel. She stroked his fingers and he gave her a gentle smile before the party began. Knowing full well that she was always there for him...and he would have been for her.

A festival of which the masses of people made a picture of love between the judge who would soon no longer be considered heartless. Because his love for his wife, the love they found for each other seemed biblical and endless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Here’s a request for Abraham as I only just found out who he is and I already would let him spit on me. He’s in the pub where he sees a girl with big boobs and a cheeky grin, he follows her out. Maybe she leads him to the stables? And he fucks her good and hard against the hay. However, just as he’s about to pull his pants up. He falls on the ground due to reader and she rides him like a pony. Maybe some dirty talk and against the hay he chokes her but while she’s riding him she chokes him. You decide how to interpret this and where it goes from there. Hope you have fun writing!

Hello! First off I'd like to thank you for your patience - I'm sorry it's taken me over two months to fulfil this request, I am slow and I have a lot to work through. Secondly, this request is absolutely bonkers, but I've done my best to fulfil it in my own style. I hope that you enjoy it.

Warnings: Infidelity, choking, fingering, smut. Word count: ~2.6k

It’s a bright and sunny July afternoon on Grantchester Village Green. The sounds of a brass band playing and children’s laughter float on the breeze, yet she is bored. It’s the Village’s annual church fête and every Grantchester resident has turned up to take part and lend a hand. Mr. Ruskin has lent a donkey from his farm to give rides to the children, there’s a tombola offering up various prizes of assorted chocolates and cuddly toys, and games of boules and cornholing have been laid out across the Green, under reams of brightly coloured bunting. She feels like she could scream from the civility of it all.

“Fetch you some more squash?” Robbie asks with a soft smile, gesturing towards her with his empty paper cup.

“No. I’m alright, thanks, love.” She replies, stiffening uncomfortably as he places a chaste kiss to her cheek before heading off in the direction of the refreshment stand.

It’s all so bland. She can’t stomach another cup of tea, another orange squash, another egg and cress sandwich. Worst of all, she’s not sure how much more of Robbie she can stand. They have been courting for almost a year - the perfect match in every sense - he is the Vicar’s son, polite, gentle, and inoffensive. She is the daughter of the head of the Village committee; pretty, well mannered and kind.

Truthfully, she finds Robbie painfully dull. He isn’t bad looking and doesn’t treat her unkindly, he is just unambitious and set in his ways. She had agreed to go steady with him because it was what was expected of her. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d expressed the desire to sleep with her three months into their relationship, and for the first time in all the years they’d known each other she’d actually found herself excited by him. That was until they did the deed and he’d rutted atop her with all the enthusiasm of a captain going down with his ship.

She’s heard the murmurs around the Village, the rumours that he plans to propose. Robbie hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either, the way he gawks in the window of the jewellers makes dread sink in her stomach like a stone, not just at the idea of him asking her to marry him, but the fact that she knows she’ll say yes. It’s what her father wants for her, and living somewhere so small, where everyone knows everyone and all their business, she doesn’t want the reputation of the girl that broke a good Christian boy’s heart.

A future as Mrs. Robert Chambers, wife of the vicar’s son, Village postmistress, daughter of the head of the Village committee. Boring, boring, boring.

Life in Grantchester had suddenly become more interesting when he had rolled into the village; part of the Romani settlement that had taken refuge in one of Mr. Ruskin’s fields. The locals had treated them with suspicion and hostility, such was the attitude to newcomers, especially travellers. However, something about him intrigued her; his slicked back hair, dazzling blue eyes and cocky smirk made her heart race, worsened by the fact that whenever she’d seen him around he always managed to catch her eye and send her reeling with a wink. 

She’d never dared to speak to him, yet she feels her breath hitch as she notices him and five of the other Romani men approaching the Green.

“Here comes trouble.” She hears her father sigh as he steps forward to approach them.

She gently grabs his arm. “Dad, leave it,” She pleads. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet anyway.” Robbie says as he returns from the refreshment stand with a refilled drink.

“They’ve as much right to be here as anyone else.” She fires back, watching as the group sit themselves on nearby picnic benches.

“I’d like to see what sort of contribution they’ve made to the Church or Village.” Her father mutters darkly.

As if on cue, the eldest of the group stands from the picnic bench and walks over to Mr. Chambers, depositing a handful of coins into the money box he holds. 

“There’s fifty pence from each of us there.” He tells the Vicar.

“Very generous of you, thank you.” Mr. Chambers responds with a bow of his head.

“See?” She says to her father. “Just leave them.”

As the afternoon progresses, the group is rowdier than anyone else at the fête. The sounds of their jeering and raucous laughing drowns out the tuba and trumpets of the band, earning them glares from everyone else in attendance. However, they keep to themselves, doing nothing more scandalous than using the picnic benches to arm wrestle one another.

She’s taking a walk around by herself, watching a group of children toss bean bags at each other with squeals and shrieks when she spots him, leaning against an outbuilding and swigging from a labeless brown glass bottle.

He winks at her when he sees her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Having fun?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Not really.” She says with a soft laugh.

“Tea and sarnies not your thing then?” He smirks at her and it sets off a fluttering in her lower belly.

“I can’t imagine it’s yours either.” She says with a shrug. “What’s your lot doing here?”

He sniffs, taking another swig from his bottle and offering it to her. Tentatively she takes it from him, a shiver running through her as their fingers brush for the briefest of moments.

“We’re moving on tomorrow. Figured we’d come pay our respects before we push off.”

She is unable to mask her disappointment at this revelation, her eyes widening as her heart sinks. “Tomorrow?! You’re leaving..?”

He leans in, his blue eyes locking with hers. “You gonna miss us?”

She takes a long drink from the bottle in order to avoid having to answer the question, spluttering around the acrid burn of the liquid in her throat.

He chuckles, taking it back from her as she coughs and wipes her mouth. “Pal’s home brew. Put hairs on your chest, that will.”

She whips around when she hears Robbie calling out for her.

“Go on then, run back to your little boyfriend.” She has to suppress a gasp as she feels the hotness of his breath against the shell of her ear, how closely he’s moved behind her in order to lean down and whisper to her.

She swallows thickly, walking away before turning back to him. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Abraham.” He tells her, with a mock two fingered salute.

“Nice to meet you, Abraham. I’m-”

“-oh I know who you are. Seen you around.” He interrupts, eyes roving over her form appreciatively.

She bites her lip, feeling the heat return to her cheeks and turns back to rejoin Robbie and her father.

The next hour passes uneventfully, until she hears raised voices coming from the area where the donkey rides are being given. Curious, she moves closer to see what’s happening. She’s surprised when she sees Abraham squaring up to Mr. Ruskin.

“It’s my animal, I think I know best how to look after it.” The farmer says angrily.

“And all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna have the poor fucker carting kids back and forth all day, the least you can do is give it a drink!” Abraham spits back.

The two men stare each other down, until eventually Abraham turns around and walks away. She thinks he has left and is bitterly dismayed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to him more, when fifteen minutes later he turns with a bucket of water, setting it down near the donkey’s hay bales.

Mr. Ruskin grumbles at this, telling Abraham to clear off, but makes no moves to take the water away. She smiles at this, she knows nothing about this mysterious man, yet it’s endearing to see how he cares for animals.

She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the day and it’s only as things start to get packed down for the evening that she realises his group has left. The bucket remains where Abraham left it and she decides she’ll return it to him, emptying the water out onto the grass before turning to let her father and Robbie know what she intends to do.

She thinks better of it as she sees the two of them grappling with the hinges of a long folding table, struggling to collapse it. Probably for the best that they don’t know where she’s going. She takes the bucket, heading off in the direction of the farm.

Abraham isn’t hard to find. He stands in a stall of the stable, running a brush along the back of a chestnut coloured thoroughbred. He is bathed in the orange glow of early summer evening, the dying sunlight plays upon the sharpness of his features, making him appear ethereal.

“He’s beautiful.” She says, making sure it’s the horse she nods towards as she approaches.

Abraham grins when he sees her, continuing to brush out the horse’s coat. “He’s alright. Still needs a bit of work, but he’s fast. Should be fit for racing soon.”

“Mr. Ruskin doesn’t mind you keeping your horses in his stables?” 

He laughs drily, tossing the brush to one side and stepping out of the stall. “He told us to. Pitched a fit when he saw the state they were making of his field.”

She nods in understanding, watching as he brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“So what brings you to me?” He asks, leaning against the door of an empty stall and eyeing her closely.

“Oh,” She steps forward, holding out the bucket. “You left this. Thought you might want it back.”

He takes it from her with a smirk. “Right, because Ruskin couldn’t have brought this with him when he brought the donkey back…”

She feels herself grow hot again, opening and closing her mouth as she struggles to formulate a response.

“Why are you really here?” He closes the gap between them, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She whispers, feeling arousal seep between her legs, warm and sticky, as he grips her lightly by the tops of her arms, turning her and backing her into the empty stall.

“I think you do.” He says lowly, fingertips tracing her jawline, the pad of his thumb passes slowly across her bottom lip, pulling slightly. “See, I think that little boyfriend of yours isn’t fucking you the way you’d like him to, so you thought you’d come see if I could do a better job.”

“N-no!” She stammers, fighting to keep her composure, as her stomach feels as though it’s doing somersaults.

“Oh?” He cocks his head, the hand not cupping her jaw moves, pushing the skirt of her dress up her thighs. “You a good girl then? Tell me to stop.”

She knows she should, but what she should do and what she wants to do are at direct odds with each other, so she says nothing, her chest rising and falling quickly with the rapidity of her breathing.

“That’s what I thought,” He utters, inhaling sharply as his fingers come to stroke over her clothed centre, feeling the dampness there. “Good girls don’t soak through their knickers like this for boys like me.”

It’s then that he finally presses forward to capture her lips with his own. It’s like no other kiss she’s ever experienced before, as his mouth moves with firmness against her own, parting to slip his tongue alongside hers, it feels like he is staking claim to her. She clings desperately to his shoulders, whimpering as she feels him push her underwear to the side and slowly sink a long finger inside of her.

“So tight…” He mumbles between kisses, moving his mouth to neck to suckle at her pulse point as his digit curls and pumps within her heat.

She allows her head to fall back with a soft thump against the wood of the stall’s wall as he adds a second, the repetitive strokes across a particular spot deep within her cause her muscles to tense as she bucks against his hand, feeling her belly tighten.

“Gonna come for me?” He asks cockily, sounding pleased with himself. His thumb begins to stroke at her pearl in tandem with the push and pull of his middle and forefingers.

The motion causes the tautness in her to finally give way, a wave of warmth rushes over her body from head to toe, and she lets out a strangled cry as she tightens and spasms around him.

She whines, her knees buckling as Abraham slowly retracts his fingers, but he’s quick to hold her in place by her waist. “S’alright, I’ve got you.” He reassures, keeping her steady until her breathing returns to normal.

The haze from her climax lifts slightly when she hears the metallic sound of his belt buckle unfastening, anticipation causing her breath to come in shallow puffs when it has only just recovered.

“You gonna let me inside, pretty girl?” He questions.

It almost makes her want to laugh, after what he’s just done to her, now he’s asking for permission. She nods feebly, her eyes heavy lidded as they take in the sight of his length as he fists it, long and thick. For a brief moment she wonders how he’ll fit.

“Use your words,” He urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” She whispers shakily, “Want you inside of me.”

He smirks, pressing into her with a satisfied groan and she mewls pathetically as he stretches her open, his grip on her thigh as he holds her open to him is sure to leave bruises.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grits out, once he’s finally sheathed within her.

He smells faintly of sweat, musky and intoxicating as she holds him close to her. She has never felt so full before, and the roughness of the wood against her back through the thin cotton of her dress, combined with the press of Abraham against her is almost overwhelming. 

Her head lolls to the side and she gasps once he finally starts to snap his hips against hers. He places a hand around her throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze. “Look at me,” He orders. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

She finds that once she meets his eyes, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. There’s a hunger that burns within those baby blues, commanding and insatiable, that keeps her trapped like an animal beneath the intensity of his gaze.

His pace is relentless. The slap of skin against skin mixed with the cadence of the wanton sounds that fall from her lips is lewd, utterly obscene, yet she is too far gone to care or feel embarrassed.

She knows that Abraham is close when his pace falters. He pulls out with a grunt, stroking himself furiously until ropes of his pearlescent spend coat her thighs and lower belly.

He falls forward, keeping a hand pressed to the wall beside her head to stop himself putting too much of his weight onto her, and rests his forehead against hers.

“Fuck,” He breathes. “We should do that more often.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” She says quietly, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the sadness she feels.

“So? Come with me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing the tip of his nose softly against her cheek.

“I can’t do that!” She huffs incredulously.

“Why?” He asks, stepping away, looking for something to help clean them both up. “What’s stopping you?”

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she struggles to think of an answer. Really, what is stopping her? She grins, her future suddenly seeming much less dull.

[leroibobo]

the shrine of saint sarah in the church of the saintes-maries-de-la-mer in in the camargue in france. the church itself was built in the 9th century and named for and dedicated to the three marys. a popular french legend goes that they and their maid, sarah, landed on a camargue coast.

saint sarah, or sarah-e-kali (sarah the black, “the black” is a title sometimes given to black/dark-skinned saints) in romani, is the patron saint of roma people in latin catholicism, though she isn't recognized by the catholic church. she is also revered as a protector for marginalized and poor people in general. her origins are thought to lie in a syncretization of the hindu goddess kali, the story of sarah along with the three marys, and the tradition of black madonnas. (christian roma have historically venerated other black madonnas as well.) the church is her major shrine - she's venerated here annually on the 24th of may by roma pilgrims.

[izabesworld]

Appleby Horse Fair!

To this who have followed my blog for a while, it has been a while! So hello, and thank you for sticking around 😃.

For those who are new, my name is Izzy and I’m a Rroma woman wanted to educate people on all things Rroma. I focus mainly on educating those on Peaky Blinders misconceptions and fanfic writing tips, but also share things about my culture, about Rromani culture and share traditions.

This time of year is a big part of the year for many Rroma men and women in England as it’s officially the time of the Appleby Horse Fair!

The Appleby Horse Fair, also known as Appleby New Fair, is an annual gathering of Gypsies and Travellers in the town of Appleby-in-Westmorland in Cumbria, England.

The horse fair is held each year in early June, attracting roughly 10,000 Gypsies and Travellers, about 1,000 caravans, several hundred horse-drawn vehicles, and about 30,000 visitors. The Gypsy and Traveller attendees include British Romanichal, Irish Travellers, Scottish Gypsy and Traveller groups, Kale (Welsh Romanies) and more!

My family is under the Romanichal section of this list, or if you’re English you’d know us better as Romany due to where we come from.

Appleby was given to us by King James (the second) of England in 1685 - supposedly - and by the 1900’s became a huge thing for English Travellers are it’s a time of year for us to come together, share our culture and even trade with a spit to the hand.

The Appleby Horse Fair, despite being a huge thing in Romani culture, isn’t shown in Peaky Blinders, and would be an amazing thing to show in fan fiction.

At Appleby, we have markets and history, where we see each other vardo’s and horses, tell people family stories and even make family tree connections! We like to call it a big family get together.

There are so many things I could delve into when it regard the Applyby Horse Fair, so let me know if you’re interested in knowing more about it ! 💗 (Even as an anonymous ask).

Much love to you all 👋

[zahri-melitor]

Okay, as I finish the era-defining runs on Robin, Nightwing, Birds of Prey and Batgirl that 2009 closed out, I had a solid think about who I really enjoyed writing these, because that’s like over 580 issues of material, annuals, minis and one shots included.

Reflections on best writers for runs of Tim’s Robin series:

Look we have to acknowledge Chuck Dixon. Nobody was doing it (writing 2/3 of the entire Bat office material simultaneously) like Dixon, for almost a decade. To ignore the impact of Dixon on Tim and Tim’s comics is to miss the foundation almost everything else is built upon. Love him or hate him, he’s all about the supporting casts and environments. Special shout outs to Robin I, Robin III, Robin #33, Robin #34, Robin #49-52 (look it contains Shiva), Brotherhood of the Fist, and Robin #67, among many others.

Adam Beechen. Gonna call it. This was a solid entertaining run. It also contains Bruce parenting Tim, which you know what? We all needed this. We DESERVED this. (Unfortunately the run is marred by Evil!Cass but there isn’t a single perfect run anywhere in Tim’s books). It has Robin #156. It has Robin #163.

Bill Willingham, #132-141. Yes, I am very specifically restricting this to a small chunk of Willingham, but this bit was genuinely interestingly written and contains the best material for Tim in Bludhaven.

I cannot be normal about Robin #183, thanks Fabian Nicieza. It’s just. Beautiful. Read Robin I, Robin #50-52, and Robin #183 back to back to back. I have, and clearly so did FabNic as he wrote it. This is what long form storytelling and callbacks are about. This is how you tie off a series after 18 years of material.

Reflections on best writers for runs of Birds of Prey:

Gail Simone. GAIL SIMONE. Queen. She turned the perfect pair (Babs and Dinah) into a trio (Babs, Dinah and Helena) and she gave the Barbara & Helena relationship the desperately needed work it deserved to progress it from a tangled bilateral deep dislike to allies to best friends. (I also loved them despising each other. Because the reasons on both sides were so meaty. But the progression of moving past that was equally good).

Chuck Dixon. Do you need inadvertently very queer stories about 007!Dinah and her handler, Barbara? Do you need Dick/Babs in your life? Do you want the queerest art anyone has ever drawn for Babs, probably drawn specifically as a fuck you to Chuck Dixon (Birds of Prey #21 my beloved)? You want Chuck Dixon.

They let some other people write this for fills but we all know it wasn’t the same.

Reflections on best writers for runs of Nightwing:

Peter Tomasi. There’s absolutely no question. The run respects Dick as the adult hero with connections across the community. It gives a Dick who has grown up enough to not just instinctively push assistance from Bruce away. It’s full of continuity nods. (I have to SCREAM about Dick catching the falling baby at the end of Freefall. Tomasi taking the falling/missed catches imagery and transforming it by: giving Dick the hobby of skydiving; AND letting Dick make the catch that haunts his nightmares? It’s a beautiful reframe)

Hello again, Chuck. Frequently heavy handed, repetitive in how much Dick wants his independence, but also full of Babs/Dick, teamwork, Dick & Tim moments, a properly rounded out supporting cast, and the origin of Dick’s escrima sticks. He wouldn’t be the same hero today without his now iconic weapons.

If I were going to nominate a third, I GUESS I’d pick out a few parts of Devin Grayson’s run, actually, and I give you #75-#83ish, #100, and #107-111. #75-#83 gives you the most interesting part of the Chief Redhorn downfall story and Blockbuster trying to take Dick’s life apart before everyone starts dying (and contains stand out issues #76 – Amy Rohrbach’s house being blown up – and #81 – Dick in hospital, Cass taking on Slade), #100 just does a lot of interesting retrospective work with Dick (even as it cements in Grayson’s Romani canon, and whether or not that’s good in your opinion is up to you), and I actually quite enjoyed the mob arc of #107-111? It’s silly, but also it’s not the worst way Dick’s ever punished himself.

Reflections on best writers for runs of Batgirl:

Kelley Puckett. Next question?

Oh you want me to elaborate? Puckett created our girl who can take on anyone and win. He made her vulnerable. He gave her her aesthetic. He developed her complex relationship with both David Cain and with Shiva. He gave her speech and friends and the vulnerability to desperately want to protect people and learn. Cass isn’t Cass without Puckett’s work.

Probably Dylan Horrocks? Horrocks is very good with emotional moments for Cass. He wrote the ‘loyalty to the Bat’ scene and ‘Soul’ and also the argument with Babs over reading, which I’m sorry, is still one of those moments in Batgirl that takes my breath away because it’s so in character for both Babs and Cass, even as it hurts.

[writingamongther0ses]

Happy (belated) STS! I really liked your cooking question, so I'll ask a similar one, but for baking: who's winning the annual pie competition and who's out there burning break n' bake cookie dough?

Frida Ayres from Bad End grew up in a home where baking and cooking were a pastime; her parents wanted to provide a taste of the world to their daughter as well as stay in touch with their Romani roots. When she married her husband, however, that was restricted since, in his family, the personal chef cooks.

As such, her daughter Mary Arden doesn't know how to cook or bake beyond heating something up in a microwave and that barely works. She and her friend Riley tried to make cookies during a sleepover with the pre-made dough and the fire department actually ended up showing up.

[the-final-straw-blog]

July 25th International Day of Solidarity with Antifascist Prisoners

Here’s an interview with Walter of the Antifa International social media project. In 2016, this took over the running of the annual July 25th Day of Solidarity with Antifascist Prisoners that was formerly a day to show affinity with Jock Palfreeman, an Australian antifascist who was incarcerated in Bulgaria for defending some Romani people from a right wing attack in which an attacker died.

Transcript

PDF (Unimposed)

Zine (Imposed PDF)

For the hour we talk about the day of solidarity, the associated Antifascist Defense fund, international lines of solidarity around antifascism, recent cases of repression and continuing to support cultures of resistance while comrades are behind bars.

https://linktr.ee/antifainternational

The International Anti-Defence Fund blog: https://intlantifadefence.wordpress.com/

Int'l. Antifa Defence Fund donation page: https://actionnetwork.org/fundraising/the-international-anti-fascist-defence-fund (shortlink: bit.ly/DefendAntifa; alternatively, fnd.us/defendantifa)

July 25th: Day of Solidarity with Antifascist Prisoners blog: https://supportantifaprisoners.wordpress.com/

Donation page for #j25antifa: https://actionnetwork.org/fundraising/the-international-anti-fascist-defence-fund (shortlink: tinyurl.com/supportantifaprisoners)

Some other antifa resources we put up: https://deathtofascism.com/

https://www.bonfire.com/support-antifa-prisoners/

Call to plan an event: https://itsgoingdown.org/july-25th-international-day-of-solidarity-with-antifascist-prisoners/

Past interviews on July25

2016 with NYC Antifa

2021 with former Antifascist prisoner David Campbell

. ... . ..

Featured Track:

Rude Boys Outa Jail by Neville Staple from 2 Tone - Tribute Collection  Vol. 1 (A Checkered Past)

Check out this episode!

[ao3feed-superbat]

Robin and the Sunflower

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RKui47m by interprehendere Every year Panem would round up one girl and one boy ages 13 - 18 from each district for their annual hunger games. A tradition kept for nearly 100 years. Though a one in a several thousand chance that your child would be reaped, parents would still spend this time in fear of those odds. Bernard understood why far too young. It was five years ago that Darla Aquisita, one of his best friends died in the games. Then only a year later after the passing of Tim Drake's parents, he would lose his only other best friend for a whole other reason. Falling out of contact with him. It would be a tragedy that they might end up in the games together. Knowing that only one may come back out... Words: 7076, Chapters: 4/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Hunger Games (Movies), Young Justice - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Characters: Dick Grayson, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Garth (DCU), Damian Wayne, Virgil "Static" Hawkins, Bart Allen, Avery Ho, Roy Harper, Kara Zor-El, Jules Jourdain, Terra, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, Clark Kent, Donna Troy, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain Relationships: Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson/Joseph Wilson, Bea Bennett/Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Hunger Games AU, but make it timbern, Angst, very little comfort, Abuse, Murder, injuries, Death, Minor Character Death, Heavy Angst, depictions od mental illness, depictions of trauma, depictions of ptsd, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Falling In Love, Explicit Language, Semi-Canonical Character, Graphic Description of Corpses, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, its gonna be long maybe, i do apologize for the angst i have in mind., Trans Tim Drake, Bisexual Tim Drake, Gay Bernard Dowd, It's important to remember Tim is trans, dead robin: do not eat, no beta we die like jason todd, Slow Burn, Romani Dick Grayson read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RKui47m

[lazaruspiss]

thinking about "anti sjw" comic discourse, specifically in terms of DC. diverse comics arent bad bc theyre diverse despite white guy #7481's insistence that "Wokeness is KILLING DC". and id say most liberal leaning folks with half of a standard understand that the presence of diverse characters doesnt make a story good.

the writing is bad for a couple of reasons. 1) the modern capitalist hellscape is a significant barrier to meaningful creativity, especially in mainstream IPs, and under large corporations like DC. 2) they keep giving diverse characters to authors who don't understand what they're representing.

like. hm. 2 examples of times i think the writers background influenced their work. one i like, one i dont, it's the closest i can get to neutrality.

i genuinely like d/vin gr/yson's work, but she has a major blind spot when it comes to race issues and some aspects of modern politics. (mainly thinking about her dc pride story and her most likely accidental but still significant misuse of racial stereotyping a la dick's romani background and to a certain extent her treatment of catalina)

m/rk andr/yko is an author who ive only read one story from but the one i did read was such garbage that i dont think id ever pick something up with his name on it. he wrote the second nightwing annual, the one that retconned babs into being dicks long time one true love. the "of fucking course it was" moment i had when i saw it was written by a man. i immediately yelled to my mother about how distasteful and misogynistic i found the thing.

the point isn't that you can't write outside of your own experiences, but rather that it requires a bit of extra effort the further it is from what you know. that's a part of why writing is a skill, and why the same author can have good or bad writing. because it takes effort, it's not just an inate ability.

i thought about mentioning t/m t/ylor in my example of "guy who doesnt know what hes talking about" but there's just too much to complain about there. i recently found out he apparently won a comic book award for his nightwing, and that's officially cemented industry awards as pay to win for me.

(im just rambling a bit to get this out of my head. i do that sometimes sorry lol.)

[nightwing60thanniversary]

NIGHTWING PROFILES: Dick Grayson

1st Nightwing Appearance: Tales of the Teen Titans #44 Other Mantles: Robin, Target, Renegade, Agent 37, Red X, Talon, Batman Secret Identity: Richard “Dick” Grayson - the oldest foster son of Bruce Wayne, and a former professional trapeze artist

ORIGINS Before Crisis on Infinite Earths, Dick Grayson retired from the name of Robin in New Teen Titans #39, and gave the name and uniform to Jason Todd in Batman #368. Dick continued working with the Teen Titans using civilian aliases to do undercover and reconnaissance work before debuting as Nightwing during the Judas Contract storyline to fight Deathstroke. 

After Crisis on Infinite Earths, a retcon in Batman #408 establishes that Batman fired Dick as Robin after he was injured fighting the Joker. However, in Nightwing Year One, Batman instead fires Dick from Robin when the pair has an argument over time split between Gotham and the Teen Titans. Dick then seeks advice from Superman, who tells him the Kryptonian story of Nightwing. Dick debuts as Nightwing in Gotham after creating a costume inspired by his father’s performance wear, helping Jason complete his last tests to become Robin.

Appears as Nightwing in: Teen Titans books including New Teen Titans (1980 and 1984), Titans (1999), the Nightwing solos (1995, 1996, 2011, and 2016), Outsiders (2003), as well as various Batfamily books

TRIVIA

In Nightwing Annual #1, published in 1997, Dick says that his father was Kalderash Romani and his mother was white. However, this was changed in New 52 and Rebirth to Dick having a Romani mother and a white father.

Teen Titans Academy (2021) establishes Dick as having used the name Red X in the past. Prior to this, Dick only used Red X in 2003’s cartoon version of Teen Titans.

Dick's fingerstripes design on two separate occasions incorporated claws on the tips. One such design can be seen in the graphic above.

In Batman/Superman: World’s Finest (2022) #7 Dick visited the Bottle City of Kandor, in some story variations the origin city of Nightwing, for the first time.

Dick has had seven children in Elseworlds and briefly had a stepson named Dennis in the 1990s. None of his children have worn the Nightwing mantle.

Dick graduated High School in 1969 and had solo and team adventures as Robin for 15 years before becoming Nightwing in 1984.

Although Dick is known for having two main love interests with red hair, Starfire and Oracle, by number he has dated more women with dark hair. Two women with blue hair have also been among his love interests.

Dick has done long-term undercover work several times, most notably in the Bludhaven Police Department in Nightwing (1996) and in Spyral in Grayson (2014).

According to Nightwing Rebirth, Dick is named after his mother’s close friend who later became Raptor. In the Young Justice cartoon he is named after his paternal uncle, who went by Rick.

During the Silver Age, Dick had a maternal aunt named Harriet Cooper, who appeared in 28 Comic issues and 77 Episodes of the 1966 Batman TV Series.

Dick is traditionally the first sidekick to debut in-universe, and was DC Comics’ first kid sidekick to appear in publishing history, a year and a half after Crimson Avenger’s adult sidekick, Wing.

On Earth 3 Dick had a sister named Rachel who died with their parents.

[mariacallous]

Kosovo on Thursday commemorated its annual Day of Forcibly Disappeared Persons with events intended to remember those who went missing during the 1998-99 war and to reiterate demands for justice.

The Youth Initiative for Human Rights Kosovo inaugurated a plaque in front of a missing persons memorial outside parliament in the capital Pristina in order to give the public more information about the two-metre-high white marble monument, which is called To Those We Miss.

Marigona Shabiu from the Youth Initiative for Human Rights Kosovo said on Thursday that “this memorial installed some years ago here in Ibrahim Rugova Square never properly identified what the memorial shows and who it is dedicated to”.

The plaque gives the memorial’s name in five languages used in Kosovo, including the official languages, Albanian and Serbian, as well as Turkish, Romani and English.

“The action is a critique of public institutions that do not do enough for the civilian victims of the war in Kosovo, including those who have not been found, starting from the maintenance of memorials and their installation in important, visible spaces,” Shabiu said.

Kosovo Prime Minister Albin Kurti, parliamentary speaker Glauk Konjufca and former President Atifete Jahjaga also paid tribute at the missing persons monument in Pristina.

There are 1,621 missing persons from the Kosovo war whose remains have not yet been found. They are mainly ethnic Albanians but some are Serbs and Roma.

In a statement to mark the Day of Forcibly Disappeared Persons, the EU rule-of-law mission in Kosovo, EULEX, explained the difficulties involved in finding the remaining missing persons.

It cited Javier Santana, deputy director of the Institute of Forensic Medicine and a EULEX forensic archaeologist, as saying that forensic experts face problems such as the burial of war victims “in small, clandestine graves, or even in cemeteries… to hide evidence of these crimes”.

Santana also said there was a lack of new information about gravesite locations, as well as a lack of DNA samples from some families in order to identify human remains and what he called “the issue of misidentifications”.

“In the aftermath of the war, bodies were identified in a summary way, for example through pictures or clothes, resulting in mistakes which are difficult to trace and rectify today,” he said.

April 27 coincides with the anniversary of a massacre in the western Kosovo villages of Meja and Korenica in 1999, when 377 ethnic Albanians were murdered by Serbian forces.

Kurti, Konjufca and Jahjaga attended a ceremony in Meja, alongside several hundred locals, to remember those who died.

“We need justice, we need accountability, we need the criminals, the culprits, the executioners and the order-givers to be behind bars, and for this we need international support as well as national mobilisation,” Kurti said.

“Next month it will be four years since parliament enabled prosecution, indictment, trial and punishment in absentia, and there is no more appropriate day than April 27 to call on the state prosecution once again… for those thousands of testimonies that we have about the crimes that were committed to be turned into indictments of those who were responsible,” he added.