#and yes it is a problem

[eternalera]

okay but jayce's eyes in this scene where is meets viktor and just- everything

the first time he sees him jayce is genuinely in shock, he's surprised his eyes are widened and his pupils shrink in shock for a moment and for a second its like he actually sees viktor and the scene is a lot warmer, it feels warmer as well

but the next time we see his eyes the background and everything gets colder a lot colder and they're narrowed, his pupils seem to kinda return to normal and while his eyebrows are tilted in anger just look at his eyes. there's something soft in them and especially the one on the right of the picture (jayces left aka the one thats kinda covered by hair). like it kinda looks like he was to cry or is about to at the very least, although this could just be a trick of lighting.

but his eyes look kinda similar to the one in the scene below (NOT THE EYEBROWS). the expression is similar cause it looks almost sentimental. it looks like he's breaking down like he's about to cry and its so raw. the lighting is different and yes you could argue that those are just his eyes but they tell so much.

then after viktor is dead his eyes seem to harden fully once more because as he was shooting he didn't see viktor he saw something else, something that he now killed which yknow... yeahhh he still looks traumatized as hell-

anyways when he was shooting viktor he didn't see him, he probably saw the hextech or- hell he might've saw the future and traveled back in time to stop it. he might've saw what viktor had become, something controlled by the hextech and knew the only way to stop it was to kill it

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[podcastwizard]

because here's the thing here's the thing the question was not "would you be more surprised to run into a fairy or a walrus" the question was "would you be more surprised to find a fairy or a walrus AT YOUR DOOR" and while no, i do not believe in fairies and would be surprised to know they EXIST i would NOT be surprised to find one at my door. HOWEVER, if a WALRUS shows up at my door i have to contend with the fact that a walrus somehow made it to my apartment specifically and knocked on my door for god knows what reason. i would be more surprised to know that a fairy EXISTS, of course, but NOT that they're at my door, do you get me?

[arsenicpanda]

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S (2023)

[chloesimaginationthings]

William gives Michael a very “good” FNAF gift..

[egophiliac]

everyone out of the way, this is the only thing I'm going to be thinking about from now on.

(okay, there is one more thing)

[sophie-baybey]

I think the invention of the term "traumadump" has done discussion of mental health a lot of harm. I keep seeing discourse vs whether or not it's okay to talk about heavy topics with your friends, and like... I feel like there is a very big and important difference between my definition of traumadumping (ie. Frequently and habitually diverting your conversations with others towards your own misery, often with the goal of focusing attention and sympathy towards yourself at the expense of those around you, and without recognizable effort to reciprocate your empathy towards those you are speaking to or to ensure their comfort) VS the mere act of having heavier conversations with those around you. I've seen a lot of backlash to the idea of traumadumping as a concept lately (they paywalled human connection etc etc) but I think it's worth recognizing there is absolutely a kind of behavior that can create a negative feedback loop with this stuff. Especially if you navigate a lot of spaces in social media, it's not uncommon to find people dropping really heavy stuff on complete strangers unprompted. Idk, I think there's a degree of nuance to be had that's maybe getting a bit lost due to everyone having different definitions of what it means to "trauma dump."

[unbloodiedmartyr]

Posts that are so VALShrue. to me.

[cup-o-stars]

I wanted to wait for the full season, but there's too much ground to cover.

[almondpiglet]

Serizawa carrying Reigen!

thirty year old salaryman carries twenty nine year old boss cuz they arent gay!!!

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or are there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[frownyalfred]

kid at school: so what does your dad even have down there? some kind of sex dungeon?

12 year old Jason Todd, who has been the cause of no fewer than three (3) separate arguments in the Batcave in the last 36 hours and has been forced to do inventory on every single water sample Bruce has ever collected from Gotham Harbor going back ten years as a punishment: god I fucking wish

kid: what?

Jason: I mean -- yeah, something like that

[odinsblog]

The crew of a massive container ship that crashed into the Francis Scott Key bridge in Baltimore early Tuesday warned of power issues before the collision, which caused the bridge to collapse into the frigid Patapsco River, officials said.

Maryland Gov. Wes Moore said the warning from the ship’s crew likely saved lives.

“We’re thankful that between the mayday and the collapse, that we had officials who were able to begin to stop the flow of traffic so more cars were not on the bridge,” Moore said. He called those officials heroes.

Moore noted that the bridge was up to code at the time of the collapse. He said the collapse was a “shocking and heartbreaking” event for the people of Maryland who have used the bridge for 47 years.

(continue reading)

[taco-rambles]

DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.

Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.

XXX

The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.

Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.

No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…

Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.

Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.

“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.

That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.

Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.

The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.

Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.

“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.

“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,” he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.

Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.

He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.

XXXXX

An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.

The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.

Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.

Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.

He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.

Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.

“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.

“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.

Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.

“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”

Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.

The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The dog days are over.

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