#hide the bodies
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bits-of-wit · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes
kitschyclown · 4 months ago
Text
guinea pigs always look so guilty girl what did you do
2K notes · View notes
devilishdelights · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Happy mermaaayyy I was able to make it just in time :]]
thank u @vivid-bun for brainstorming abt these guys with me!!!
3K notes · View notes
iizuumi · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Side effects of wearing your sentient Kaiju suit too often ,,,,
1K notes · View notes
allthatispeculiar · 23 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
815 notes · View notes
crunchchute · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!
3K notes · View notes
risingchaos · 2 years ago
Text
Don’t let dead people stop you from achieving your dreams.
0 notes
deadpoets · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir
766 notes · View notes
the-badger-mole · 3 months ago
Text
What I adore about the idea of Katara ending up with Zuko instead of Aang is that in Zuko she would have someone who would support her in her righteous anger. Had he been there when Katara challenged Pakku for her right to learn how fight, he would've backed her up. He would never have tried to tell Pakku that she didn't mean it. And he would've offered to help her dispose of his body if it came to that.
That's the energy that Katara needs. Someone who understands that she's not jumping into a fight for nothing. If she kills someone, she had a darned good reason.
842 notes · View notes
honehonn3honey · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
What happens to this empty place, waiting for my arrival...
Rook in my heart. You can read the monster list here @lustlovehart
[Alt under the cut]
Tumblr media
This is the original version but God, I don’t see anything else and I didn’t want others to get hurt watching
Now here I put my thoughts as I drew him:
I think our beautiful creature doesn't really have a human anatomy, his limbs are long and with very little muscle covering. Their bones could click together if it fully manifested. Claws replacing part of the bony fingers and nails. You could feel the long ribs behind that thick sack
He doesn’t need beyond his big and cool gothic sack to cover his abnormal appearance, after all the is no more shadows and fog for everyone’s eyes
The darkness consumes you from the pores, in each puff of lungs, you could become one with him and he would be delighted
I feel that it is detached from all worldly, but I would keep a thing or two of those who most appreciate... like the feathers of Neige or a brooch of Vil
786 notes · View notes
anxi04 · 13 days ago
Text
steph and babs don’t need personas, as far as anyone is concerned they’re just family friends.
bruce has his “brucie wayne” persona, very clumsy, playboy, kinda air headed but still very smart and wants to do good for gotham. which of course makes him seem naive cause good?? for gotham??
dick has “richie grayson-wayne” who’s dabbled in modeling before becoming a gymnastics teacher. also very vocal about his “adorable little siblings”
jason never really had a “nickname” after all he was from crime alley and he had to look GOOD for them or else they’d go back to “he’s just like the rest of them”. his persona was very empathetic and kind though, which worked great for him since that’s how he was like. he always talked about doing several non profit charities. the elites switched their opinions of him on a dime, although the rest of gotham adored him.
damian refuses to go by a nickname. his persona is based around animals, mostly about abandoned animals. it’s very clear his goal for the future is to make good animal shelters and help every animal he can. it’s the only persona he could stomach and there were SEVERAL other ideas
cass is “cass wayne” very quiet, polite, generally just there in the background. normally hanging around one of her siblings, most often tim. although her being around him unnerves some of them, she’ll get a look in her face and then her and tim both know they were lying. they fully get why she hangs around tim
duke is regularly seen as the normal one. pleasant to be around, kind, but generally also just there. very normal student, not really sure what he’s gonna do. the elites don’t particularly for him, though the rest of gotham love him.
tim’s persona differs from the rest pretty heavily. he can’t get away with being like bruce, the elites vividly remember janet and see her in him very often, which vaguely scares them if they’ll be honest. he’ll act like “Tim Drake-Wayne” to unsettle them, after all he’s a Drake why is he acting clumsy? they’ve seen him when he was younger and he was the spitting image of perfect. it makes more sense to them when he trips and lands right where he can tell them something no one else can hear. “Timothy Drake” is what scares them though. the tim that casually whispers secrets no one else knows, who points out someone they’re supposed to have a “private meeting with” in a week. who has nearly cause several of them to go broke with such simple actions, and the only reason they didn’t was cause he let them stay rich. there was one elite who insulted damian near tim and suddenly said elite had to get an apartment in crime alley, pay his now ex-wife, a kid he had with some random person, and several debts
the fact that lex luther and tim are some kind of friends also doesn’t make them feel super great but that’s another issue
463 notes · View notes
spacedace · 8 months ago
Text
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.
1K notes · View notes
pixlokita · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Aight so infection au ? Saw some cool ones so wanted to try it too✨💕
Blob Greg version under the cut pffft-
Tumblr media
He be a blob otherwise it’s too sad, but I put the original concept with the other spooky designs 👌
2K notes · View notes
artiststarme · 10 months ago
Text
Eddie “had a guy” for everything. He had a music guy, a drug guy, a guy who knew other guys, and another guy that could get a guy for the thing that needed a guy. He had a guy to get the best flannels, a guy to do his homework, finally, and a movie guy to Although his movie guy was just Robin calling his movie taste shitty and recommending all of her favorites to him so she could third-wheel his and Steve’s dates to watch them.
Meanwhile, all of Steve’s “I have a guy” guys are Dustin. Need a guy to complain to over hairspray getting discontinued? Dustin. Need a guy to hang out with you for the day while your boyfriend is out of town for a concert? Dustin. Need to hunt down an otherworldly slimy monster that eats cat and wants to kill people? Dustin.
Except if he needs to hide a dead body. That’s when he calls Robin.
1K notes · View notes
auspicioustidings · 5 months ago
Text
ZOO KEEPER 141
Big cat bastard Ghost who absolutely tricks you into the enclosure by telling you the lions were in the back and then delights as you absolutely freak out thinking you are going to die.
Gaz at all times has a little trail of penguins behind him those little bastards adore this man and in fact nip at you whenever you get near him (he makes a point to always get near you because he finds angry penguins attacking you very funny).
Soap has not once told you the truth about how dangerous the insects, arachnids, or snakes he has made you hold for photos are. He does enjoy watching when you later read the little plaques and go a funny shade of green at how close you came to a very grusome demise.
Price is frequently making national news because he is teaching the gorilla's sign language (and telling them your name is good girl so that they sign it at you whenever you walk past that enclosure).
You reckon you could get them all back given how much your wolves seem to like you, but it's sort of weird that the four most playful and safe ones are never about at the same time as the 141 :')
729 notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 11 months ago
Text
Prompt 160
Constantine might have made a slight mistake. Just an itty bitty one. Okay maybe not an itty bitty one, but it’s not like he usually deals with Realms beings! No one deals with Realms beings if they can help it, and never willingly! 
So maybe he had been a little more drunk than usual, and maybe a tiny bit more desperate. But he’s pretty sure he didn’t do any hanky-panky with anyone. So he’s very confused as to how the fuck, he apparently has not just one, but three Realms-cores?! 
Seriously, what the actual fuck, who looked at him of all people and decided, yeah, he looks like he could be a dad?! Mom!? Whatever the fuck it is. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do in this situation!?
1K notes · View notes