#except it's not that in a way

[moonpie016]

Y'know, I never really thought about how (in my own interpretation, headcanon??) of how Heart became blind.

Other than being annoyed by how contradictory I made his vision previously, I never really made a reason as to why he just can't see. And I could say that Mind or Soul caused it. But...for me it wouldn't really fit. Most likely would make sense for the two ("intimidating") figures of the headspace with aggression, would cause such a thing.

But. Since I write and portray Soul with some understanding and more patience to everything, and Mind wouldn't stoop down low to Heart's actions (unless necessary).

I figured, ... why not themself?

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CW/TW:

The rest of this will mention themes of self mutilation/harm (to the eyes), guilt/regret, and other things that might be uncomfortable.

(the eye description is a physical representation to me of blocking things out, like memories, actions, anything. So while this includes these mentions, the only thing it reflects is the mental/internal wording of it. Nothing actually physical. (If that's a worry, I'm just here to clarify.)

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I don't know what I'm doing.

I thought of this while daydreaming, rereading my work and just thinking..

I would think that after so much that would happen to HMS, Heart in an instance, fueled with anger and hate, hate for their actions, everything that they chose to do.

Thinking that he could've done more and everything would be fine. That everything would all blow over and be just how things were before. He'd perk up a smile, a small teasing remark, anything to potentially cheer his siblings up.

That doesn't happen. He doesn't smile, he doesn't lift everyone's spirits up, he puts Whole into a depressive state that lasts for weeks, a month, time isn't even a thought in his mind. If he could prevent everything from happening, then just maybe, he wouldn't have to keep seeing it every day. Seeing her face. (In a way, Love Interest could represent in a way past mistakes, relationships, just past stuff in general.)

So, he with all his might, thinking that it'll fix everything, it will if he didn't have to see anything bad happen ever again.

While this is... something of an interpretation. I guess it could reflect my own state of.. doing things? Like the saying is, "out of sight, out of mind". (I think.) If Heart can't see what's causing him and their vessel this pain, then.. everything will work out faster.

It doesn't get reversed, the loop isn't a time loop. Nothing gets reversed. It stays. Not all the time. Sometimes the scars stay or peak through. And while it would be better to ignore them. ..it wouldn't be good in the long run.

And sometimes expressing or talking about it just helps. Painful, yet freeing. Even if for a little moment.

Maybe that's why Heart is something to me. Emotions are a tough thing to understand. Why we did this, why we did that. And..Heart ripping his own eyes out of his sockets, leaving just this purple scarring.. Again with the violence being depicted here as not of malice, or hate, (like full blown hatred to kill each other) or a "punishment". He's just. Him.

Through every terrible outburst, comes more understanding to work it out. Still not the best at handling things under intense clouded gazes, vision pointed at the one thing that's on your mind. And you just explode.

And in some cases, you do things that hurt you, internally or externally. (More internally for Heart, yet still somehow both.)

The two, to the best of their abilities, try to work things out. Even though Soul going through the whole (no pun intended) "out of sight, out of mind" tactic. And even Mind.

Them acknowledging it and growing from it is lots better. They'll get stuck, Heart will get stuck in his anxieties and reminders. But he has comfort. It's not all good. But not all bad either.

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Ok, I wasn't expecting to go off this long. I thought I was going to explain this in...how many numbered paragraphs, and be done. But I guess I had more to express.

I think what makes writing these guys so...easy somehow? Is just looking into my own head and piecing things on them that would make sense. To my understanding of everything at least. Is this a perfect explanation? Probably not at all. But I had a nice yet interesting time writing this.

And this wasn't written with sad intent, I just wanted to ramble about Heart and his everything.

Man's has flaws. Flaws exist. (<- Saying this in a non causal way, by the way.)

Hope you all have a good day, and.. enjoy?

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[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[acorviart]

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[isjasz]

Feather and Crystal (I remember)

Set after wild life session 5, under the premise that dd gave each other a feather earring and a crystal necklace back in 3rd life <3 They can be seen in a lot of my past pieces, the og concept was from bugs buggsxp back during dl !!

[cozymodeonpoint]

senshi fans: learning how to make nutritious meals for themselves

laios fans: down bad

marcille fans: lesbianism

chilchuck fans: putting that man in situations

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[blueskittlesart]

maryland miku

[evercelle]

joongdok so far to me. specifically chp 370

[mossy-aro]

sometimes finding aromanticism in media isn’t literally about aromanticism… sometimes it’s about the deconstruction of love as a concept and the subversion of its perception as inherently humanising. it’s about the decentering of romance as a driving force in the narrative. and also sometimes it’s about love being central to the narrative but in a way that defies all traditional categorisations of romantic / platonic / anything else. it is the secret third thing yet so much more and less at once. the point is aromanticism is everywhere for those with eyes to see

[queerasflux]

man I wish people understood how much it sucks ass to be neurodivergent and trying to find the middle ground where people like/tolerate you. like, I'm either "boring" (trying to wait my turn in conversations, holding space for other people, taking a back seat to let others get some spotlight) or "too much" (too loud/talking too much, getting excited to share, trying to participate in group conversations/activities). No one really talks about how much of being neurodivergent is just sort of trying to make yourself palatable.

I feel like so much of my life has been spent trying to find this effortless sort of middle ground everyone else seems to automatically already know, and I'm always swinging too far one way or the other. I'm lucky to have neurodivergent friends who grok me, but goddamn I wish that I could just like, exist without the constant background script in my brain that's like "you're being too loud. You're not talking enough. you're being self-centered. you're being boring. you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong." I feel like I'm back in high school trying to make friends but stuck as the eternal "weird kid"

it's just... lonely and sucks bad.

[shadebloopnik]

Radioapple twitter goin thru a thing rn

LIKE AMIR????

AMIR???? CHAT???? AMIR WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR?????

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[doctorsiren]

I wonder what younger me would think of who I am now

[notherpuppet]

Messy sketchy of AU besties 📻 🥀

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.