#my body is telling me something

[rosstrytobe]

People is it normal to actually get sick in the stomac because Buddie will become canon?

[slingerapen]

i really feel like having salad but i never eat salad cos i dont like it?????

[hinamie]

I'll rip in hands and teeth and take a bite

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[hasellia]

[addamii]

Saddest girl in the world but she does look good on a poster

Prints here :)

[prettyflyshyguy]

Rejoice! Los Illuminados is bestowing upon you its most sacred body.

@cannibal-wings has been providing me excerpts and info about his RE4 remake AU.

It's good.

[explodingstarlight]

homeboy might be cracking under the stress a little bit

i heard we were doing angst (i was up at 3 am and i hadn't slept oopsie)

more fanart for @snailsnaps fic because i cannot be stopped whoopsie doopsie

[beanghostprincess]

Okay, so I haven't watched all of FMAB yet, but I love how Ed is so fucking oblivious. He got a gorgeous girl, way smarter than him and out of everybody's league, who plays with the cord of the telephone when they speak together because she's down bad and laughs softly when he talks. And he's like "yeah, yeah, well, I am glad you're alive haha I thought they were going to brutally fucking murder you today. So that's a relief. Bye, super best friend in the world" and hangs up like the moron he is. But not only that, because well, they can't see each other so I get he doesn't notice the crush in Winry's voice, BUT LING?????? Dude has been with that prince inside a guy's stomach and has carried him around and cooked him his boot and yelled at him for giving up because he can't leave somebody as ambitious as him there without accomplishing what he wants, and then he says some gay bullshit like "Ling is still in there" after looking at Greed's eyes ONCE. One thing is not realizing a girl is crushing on you but Oh my God Edward for fuck's sake get a clue and realize you like men-

[ballpitwitch]

Keanu Reeves The ARCH Origin Story

[xenomorphicdna]

On the string propaganda

Heeellll yeah

Bestie is an entire PLACE

I look at those guys and let me tell you the soul of that thing ain't just in the puppet, it's in all the neurons carrying the thoughts and emotions, it's in the power rails that serve as the heart. All the memories in the memory conflux and all the numbers we see flicker across displays, the flux condensers, the puppet; a little avatar.

No way these massive machines see life the same way we do. They have their own experiences and senses and things they hold dear. A world we can't imagine, a way of living we couldn't even comprehend.

I could never tear an iterator apart to be just a puppet. Who am I to decide how's life supposed to be enjoyed or perceived?

You treat your creechurs however you want- I ain't gonna dictate that. But damn, hearing the thrums and buzzes of the linear systems rail? They are alive with so much power, these mechanical beasts are exactly what they should be.

[sergle]

FOREWARNING FOR GROSS-OUT SKIN CLOSEUP SHIT DON'T YELL AT ME FOR SHOWING YOU has anyone else gotten this really weird phenomenon on youtube. I swear every algorithm on every website is actively and purposely worse now. Where you'll be scrolling through vids after searching for something (I was looking at crochet stuff) and SANDWICHED IN THE MIDDLE OF ACTUAL SEARCH RESULTS... YOU KNOW. LIKE THINGS RELEVANT TO THE KEYWORDS I TYPED

are a couple of completely out of left field SHOCK VALUE VIDS. like to intentionally be alarming. drama vids and things you're enticed to click on bc they're upsetting, and deep deep closeups on zits. what the fuck is going on. Sandwiched between videos about GRANNY SQUARES. crack? is it crack we're smoking????

[sourscratched]

the hand that feeds

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Man, sometimes living alone with ADHD really do be like:

Me: Huh, I wonder why I'm so shaky and tired and seeing spots everywhere

Also me: *hasn't eaten food in two days, hasn't had water in just as long, has been hunched over current hyper fixation for hours without moving, hasn't seen sunlight in days*

Me: .... Just one of life's great mysteries I suppose

[fudgelling-away]

Sans, tail me your secret

sfw, 1000 words

An innocent slice of life. You and Sans get to know each other better in the early stages of relationship.

Warnings: Intimacy (but no outright suggestive themes, nothing happens besides obvious attraction, that’s not the focus of this text) A few curse words Some tears, some drama (but it ends well, you both will be alright)

As always, your writing and drawings are more than welcome! You can write a different ending, or change how the whole scene would play out, I'd love to see it.

.... What a nice evening, you thought.

You two got ready to binge-watch the tenth season of Ancient Aliens. Almost 10 years have passed since the monsters came to the surface and Sans has been busy with going through all the old shows. It gave you an opportunity to rewatch some old classics or discover something you have previously missed.

Surrounded with snacks and blankets, you got comfortable and he was now sitting close to you on the couch. Not really paying attention to NASA's Secret Agenda, you were discreetly observing his face. So relaxed, lively. Happy.

In a sudden surge of courage and affection you coaxed him to move onto your lap.

He followed your lead seemingly without a second thought while his eyelights remained glued to the TV. You almost missed the twitch of the corner of his smile as he tried to keep a poker face, but you were getting really good at reading him those days. As he nestled in your lap, leaning with his back against your chest, an eerie feeling crept up on you. Even though his bones were thicker than your own, he seemed so fragile. It was... wrong. He was too exposed and you didn't like that at all. You embraced him gently, closing your eyes and wishing that your body could become his shield. What a nice evening.

The living room was pleasantly warm, contrasting with the snow that was faintly visible outside the windows. Fire crackling in the fireplace, the smell of burning pine wood, tea with orange slices and cloves.... What a nice–

Your eyes opened wide. With him sitting flush against you the crests of his ischium dug into your thighs – it felt insanely intimate, but you kept your composure until something poked against your abdomen. ... The fuck was that? You froze. Both his hands were in your view. He was still sitting calmly, though you could see droplets of sweat forming on his skull. When he leaned forward to reach for a cookie, something the size of a finger brushed against your belly, and suddenly all you could see was an image of a big fat rat crawling under his shorts, or a spider, or....

You jumped up with a yelp, throwing Sans off your lap, trying to catch him with your left hand and falling with him on the carpet, cookies flying through the air, crumbs everywhere. You managed to break the fall with your right forearm, still awkwardly squishing Sans to your left side.

Silence.

Only the dramatic clatter of the tin bowl against the wooden floor.

He scrambled away from you with such pain in his wide-open eyesockets that you thought he was about to cry, but there was no chance to console him. He shortcutted out of the room. He just wanted a fucking chocolate cookie. You felt a wave of dread surging through your body in a sickening way. You felt like the worst trash on earth. Calm down. At least one of you can't freak out. You are going to laugh about it later, it's okay. Breathe. You climbed the stairs on shaky legs and quietly knocked on his door.

“Sans? Are you there?”

No response.

“Knock, knock?” you whined miserably. “Babe, I'm so sorry, please let me explain.”

You began to wonder if he had teleported to his room at all, and not somewhere else. You sat down by the door and took out your phone. Your hands were shaking so much that writing a message was a real challenge.

You:

Sans. I am extremely sorry. My reaction was involuntary, caused by surprise and nothing more. I am so disappointed in myself for hurting you like this. Your expression will haunt me till the day I die. Rest assured I am punished. I was simply surprised because…

dont tell him about the rat

...because I still have no idea what you touched me with. I don't know your body that well yet. I'm sorry that my reaction was so spectacular. Read. You sighed with relief and waited.

Sans:

heh it was quite spectacular wasn't it

You:

I'm so sorry Will you come back and talk?

Sans: and risk being yeeted across the floor? fat chance, buddy

You: I'm so sorry... After a bit of back and forth, some more grovelling and some heartfelt promises, Sans opened the door. You sat up hopefully, but slouched again when you saw his serious expression. His usual grin looked more like an uneasy grimace.

“it's my tail” he grumbled so quietly you almost didn't catch that.

“Your... tail? Your tail moves?”

“i move it. it doesn’t have a mind of its own.”

“Why did you move it?” You asked stupidly and mentally slapped yourself in the face.

Exasperation flashed through his face briefly as he rolled his eyelights.

“i didn't– buddy, pal, it’s short but it’s still a tail and functions like one. when i bend or reach, it reacts to balance me, however ridiculous that sounds.”

He remained silent for a moment and you dared not to speak. His eyesockets narrowed slightly.

“yours doesn't, huh?”

“No! I don't really have one, mine is just a couple of fused vertebrae.”

“mine isn't fused.”

You wanted to ask if you could see it, but even though you bit your tongue Sans read your face like an open book.

“tsch. you've got some nerve.”

You groaned, curling up on the floor in front of him.

“I am so sorry...”

“i will remember to let myself react wildly the moment your body surprises me,” You heard his ominous voice above you. He hummed thoughtfully and a smirk slowly crept on his face. “yeah. i will flail and scream. heh.”

“Sans...”

“now, my tea’s getting cold” he walked past you calmly, his voice finally relaxed again. “and i believe you’ve got crumbs to sweep up. c'mon.”

[soullessseraphim]

May I present to you...

My take on a potential Valdemar bath scene

because I am one thirsty slu-

I was standing at the edge of the pool, waiting for them. They contemplated the water for a moment, as I did, listening to its soft ripples. I then started to undress. They did too, but much more slowly. I entered the warm water with a satisfied sigh, looking up at them with a playful smile. The process of unbuttoning their lab-coat seemed tedious, but to them, it was natural. I had never seen them in anything different, so it was already quite strange to watch them take of those long leather gloves of theirs. But it was even more surprising to me to see they weren't wearing anything underneath other than bandages.

They weren't fully wrapped in them, like a mummy would. I think I would've found it even stranger. bits of their green skin appeared here and there, the areas most covered and invisible being mainly their torso. The bandages were more sparse around their elbows and knees, leaving their arms and thighs half covered and their forearms and calves bare. They stepped in the water with me, and I looked at them, still smiling.

It wasn't the typical bathing attire, but it suited them. I was about to speak up, but it didn't look like they wanted to discuss yet, therefore I closed my mouth, tilting my head slightly, in a mix of concern and confusion. They looked right at me, with those red irises that always pierce so easily into my soul. I didn't mind. I got used to sustaining their gaze... But there was something I could see, this time. I couldn't fathom what, but there was an emotion there, other than their usual excitement and morbid curiosity, or the spark that usually accompanies their sinister grin.

They walked one or two steps away from me, pushing a floating flower aside with surprising gentleness before turning to face me. I was about to ask again if anything was wrong, but then... They loosened the bandages, letting them delicately fall off their shoulders and hips and into the bath's water.

I had a feeling they just made me a most precious gift... A sight that few, if any, had seen before. I couldn't help my jaw from going slack and my chest from growing warm as I looked ; delicate droplets of water glided down their skin, nestling near their collarbones.

I looked back up at their eyes, which gauged my reaction. They had not spoken yet. The silence went on for a while as I stared at them, a mixture of feelings flowing through my veins. But overall, I could only say I was moved : they'd trusted me enough to show themselves to me... I found them beautiful. All of them.

"Thank you."

It was all I could say while looking back in their eyes, full of gratitude.

They relaxed ever so slightly, as if they'd been anticipating a more intense reaction on my part. And then they smiled. Not one of their usual unsettling grins, no... A soft smile. A rare instance where the tiny bit of humanity left in them resurfaced. It was another gift in itself. I felt as if I could cry in joy.

They invited me to sit comfortably in a corner of the pool, our bodies half sunken in the water. They let me wrap my arms around their waist and rest my head against their shoulder as we looked at the sun go down behind the horizon. We did nothing but bask in its warmth and let our precious moment sink in.

I knew they wouldn't offer me anything else, and I was perfectly content with that, for I didn't need anything more.