#+a vision before me+

[burdenedwithfaith]

It just amuses me.

[ash-and-starlight]

taking the crumbs of venetian agna qel’a chewing biting gnashing on them until there aren’t even bones left and then spitting out. carnevale northern water tribe style

[faeriekit]

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

The whole fic on ao3

[abiscuit]

I love Star Trek, I love how every time a federation ship goes into the romulan neutral zone there is also immediately a romulan ship. Like girl, what were YOU doing in the neutral zone?

[inkskinned]

i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.

what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.

life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.

we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.

recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.

business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.

it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.

but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.

this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.

bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.

but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.

[adeleba]

POV: your master is talking with higher beings again

Gosh it would be so funny if this keeps happening especially mid conversation

[qcomicsy]

If batkids had a podcast XVI

Red hood: Just us today?

Nightwing: Just us today.

Red hood (laughing) I wonder why–

Nighwing: Dude– (laughing as well)

Red hood: I–

Nightwing: Dude don't do it–

(just both of them chuckling)

Red Hood (close to the mic): They're grounded.

Nightwing: (CACKLES)

Nightwing (crying): This is not funny

Red Hood: This is hilarious.

Red Hood: Were last survivors of our kind. . .

Red Hood: Adults.

Nightwing: Adults.

Red Hood: He can't ground us anymore.

Nighwing, chuckling: He can't ground us anymore

Red Hood:

Red Hood: Fuck.

Nightwing:

Red Hood: We're b– (pause) We're both the oldest now.

Nightwing: Yeah– You, me and–

Red Hood, at the same time: Yeah– (pause) This is so surreal

Nightwing: You think?

Red Hood: Yeah. Dude – I was. . . I was the youngest.

Nightwing: Oh your sweet summer– I was a only child.

Red Hood: (Cackles)

Nightwing: It really isn't that weird to me.

Red Hood: Really?

Nightwing: Yeah– I was always the oldest man.

Nightwing: I was the oldest of my team

Red Hood: What?!

Nightwing: Yeah!

Red Hood: You're fucking with me.

Nightwing: Nah man– I was the oldest. I am the oldest, I'm not dead.

Red Hood:

Red Hood: You're older than Arsenal?

Nightwing: I'm older than everybody man.

Nightwing: People look at me and assign me to take care of children.

Red Hood (imitating Damian voice): "Father genes"

Nightwing: HA– "father genes" (pause) Why are you looking at me like that?

Red Hood:

Red Hood: You're ancient.

Nightwing: IM NOT ANCIENT.

Red Hood: You're older than the Teen Titans, fucking older than Young Justice.

Nightwing: You're older than Young Justice

Red Hood: I was dead man it doesn't count.

Nightwing: Of course it does– How old are you?

Red Hood: How old are you?

Nightwing:

Nighwing: I– I am an adult.

Red Hood: Uh-huh.

Nightwing: In a reasonable age.

Red Hood: You're in your thirties aren't you?

Nightwing: NO

Nightwing:

Red Hood: You look like you're in your thirties– The bag under your eyes

Nightwing: Because I'm tired????

Red Hood: The hunched posture.

Nightwing: Hey I do not have hunched posture– Fuck you.

Nightwing: You try to take care of an entire team of teenagers just to end up taking care of more two and a grown ass depressed middle aged man.

Red Hood: That was Red–

Nightwing: That was Red. (pause) I would have fucking killed him.

Red Hood: Oh Definitely.

Nightwing: Point still stand man I'm tired.

Red Hood: Both of us.

Nightwing: Both of us– (chuckles) Robins if you're hearing this I love both of you and I would do it all over again. Titans– (closer to the mic) You know what you did.

Red Hood: (Cackles)

Red Hood (closer to his mic): You know your sins.

Nightwing (laughing): Flash owe me 30 dollars.

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[snowflakeeel]

WHO'S READY FOR

COLORLESS, ODORLESS, TOXIC GAS TUESDAY?!?!

[maggotknight]

an alternate timeline

[twiyke]

so dana's gallery art featured hunter in glasses, and i thought about it, and yeah, two recolours in one episode would probably cause some sort of eye trauma.

[crazylittlejester]

Time: *sighs* We can’t manipulate, mansplain, malewife our way out of this one, Captain

Warriors: *loosening his scarf just a bit* Manwhore it is

[burdenedwithfaith]

Welcome.

Hello. Forgive me if I'm not very good at this. I can't say that I'm the most tech savvy of people, but since the renovation of the church they've insisted we try to modernise the parish with one of these blog... things.

I'm Father Ward, and I'm the priest here. Yes, you may have heard of me... and you hay have heard of this church. But I assure you, anything you might have been told is all long in the past now. This is a new beginning, and I'm here to help bring a new life to this place. I do hope we get new visitors soon.

So please, feel free to look around. Make yourself comfortable. If you have any questions or concerns, or... if you wish to visit the confessional, I assure you, you'll have my full attention, and I'll endeavour to help you to the best of my ability.

I do hope to hear from you soon.

[lunacias]

statement of jonathon sims, regarding a childhood encounter with a book formerly possessed by jurgen leitner

[sersfandomthings]

wanderer

(referenced from that one shot in the 3.3 interlude quest)

[phopollo]

HAD A SUPER SILLY IN BETWEEN SEASONS IDEA FOR HILDA, HEAR ME OUT;

2 week summer sleep away camp

BUT KEEP HEARING ME OUT, BECAUSE

Pov:

You're being introduced to the camp counselors on the first day

[crystallizsch]