#internalized stuff

[noxious-fennec]

Tunisian miku 🇹🇳👍

[jakei95]

No :(

[chlopieno]

This friday sucks super bad so far.

[ddddd-pixels]

For International Asexuality Day, I'm hitting you all with the Ace Beam. ☺️

(This took a lot more effort than I thought it would, lol...)

Edit: 800 notes?! In less than five hours?! Thank you all so much!!

Edit 2: 2000... The most I got on any post before was just over a hundred, lol. You are all so nice!

[wispscribbles]

you know the art you made of Soap "accidentally" giving Ghost a kiss before going on a mission? (before they started dating) what do you think happened when Soap came back from the mission? :3c

follow up to this post

They start dating of course! <3

[softer-ua]

So I’ve been joking for a while about how Inko manages to afford all of Izuku’s AM merch

But I decided to nerd out and look closer, and I’m pretty sure the only expensive piece Izuku owns is the poster he got from Sir

You might think his dorm looks absolutely stacked

but that’s only because it’s a very small room and he brought every piece he owns

If you look in his old room it’s all the same posters

so he’s owned it all for at least a few years, he’s been working up to this for god knows how many years, just to be the proud owner of 5 posters so basic even he would put tape on them

All of his figures are less than 50$

One of which he’s had since he was a child

And it doesn’t look like the other unidentified figures are anything special either(except maybe AM in his yellow suit)

Izuku only has generic fanboy shit, like maybe one of the posters is a custom but I honestly I don’t think he owns a single special anything

The dead guy poster is 100% the coolest thing he has, no wonder he’s so reverent about it 💀

As for fits this is all we’ve really seen is

So yeah Inko isn’t dropping stacks on merch, I’m pretty sure those sweaters were a 2 for 1 deal because they’re almost identical 💀

[technically-human]

Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?

Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?

It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3

Glad you asked

ko-fi

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [16]

Danny has been with the Wayne’s for a while now and his status as a halfa is starting to affect some things he comes in contact with a little bit.

At first he thought this only happened back in his old home in Amity Park because the ectoplasm samples were kept in the fridge, and though that does speed up the process, it turns out Danny causes the same things to happen just fine on his own. It just takes a lot longer.

This means he now occasionally has to replace or decontaminate some of his things every once in a while. and with the electronics the same applies but usually the protections that Tucker has made do the trick too.

Danny has been very careful, he never borrows anything that’s highly susceptible to ecto-contamination from the others and whenever he needs something from the kitchen he just goes to Alfred (he really doesn’t want to see how the old man might react to the coffee machine starting to act weird because of Danny). Just, the last thing Danny wants to do is inconvenience the Wayne’s by ecto-contaminating something of theirs.

It’s really only when Danny slips back into vigilante-ism that things go sideways.

And Danny really tried. His obsession is space, not heroism, so he figured he’d be fine just focussing on his education. But he kinda forgot about the fact that he just really really loves being a hero.

He loves the thrill, the danger. He loves giving a smackdown and just in general having a good fight, he loves helping people, he loves being a force of good. And yeah, he kinda also likes the praise, but nothing weird and overbearing (some people go way too far in their hero worship, but that’s a story for another day)

So after some back and forth and arguments with Bruce who, contrary to popular belief, was absolutely not thrilled that his latest traumatized kid who was being kept safe in the mansion so far now decided that no, he wants to be part of the family business too please.

Danny eventually threatens to just go out anyway without any of his help and that just gives Bruce flashbacks to the time when he had just taken Dick as his ward. Not to mention some of his other kids and… dammit.

Well then… Danny can go explain things to Jason himself once he finds out and is probably going to be mad about it, Bruce is not taking the blame this time.

So Danny (name pending, he could just go with Phantom again, but he also wouldn’t mind using something bird or bat related) gets back into the game once again! And that’s fine that’s cool. But back to the original point.

Danny figured that he would just do what he’s been doing so far with any bat gadgets as well, and maybe it would be even less of a problem cause he’s pretty sure that these things break a lot more often because of all the fights and stuff.

What Danny had not really thought about though is potential intense high emotion situations. Like for very specific example; Scarecrow taking an obsessive interest in him because of Danny’s ghostly ability to feed on fear (somewhat) and the situation getting out of hand, him getting very hurt, Batman having to carry him out of there while Danny was kinda bleeding a bit (a lot). Bruce being worried and Danny wanting to be anywhere but there anymore and-

Well, you get the point.

So, take all that and add high tech bat armor and what you get is suddenly sentient batsuit.

It actually took a bit for anyone to catch on that something was going on, but it was eventually figured out. and once that was the case Danny couldn’t really help his seemingly endless stream of apologies.

But how can anyone ever blame him for bleeding out on Bruce and the weird reanimative properties of said blood making it so Bruce’s suit can now “talk”

Bruce described it more as like a martian mind link, which would explain why only he could hear things. it’s probably only for the wearer.

It can’t move on it’s own, it needs someone to wear it. But it can sense things and react for the wearer and honestly all that alone is more than enough reason to find a way to exorcise it… if not for the whole,

��but if it’s a sentient ecto entity now we can’t just ‘kill’ it, we literally abolished the anti ecto acts just so that can’t be done anymore”

it’s probably a good thing the suit has grabbed all the ‘Batman’ and made that what it is. All the core values are there, so there isn’t going to be any risk of it killing someone at least.

Still though… what to do now?

[multiiocular-mushroom]

Anyway, here's Bashkir Miku 🐎

[knifearo]

this year my challenge for everyone is to unlearn the association between love and morality. love is not something that is inherently morally good, and the absence of love is not something that is inherently bad. sex without love isn't morally bankrupt, it's just an action. people without love aren't less kind or less good, they're just people. when we can get past this false (and often unnoticed) dichotomy of good love/evil lovelessness then i think we are going to be able to take leaps and bounds in sex positivity, aro advocacy, certain discussions of mental health...

[liaragaming]

I spent too much time on this.

"Arm chopping is not a love language." - Nimona Movie

[haunted-xander]

Who's the "real" me?

+ some references for the Rise-related things I included <3

[langernameohnebedeutung]

[6ebe]

When I said Spain were violating child Labour regulations I didn’t think they actually were 😭

[hometoursandotherstuff]

[the-orange-solace]

When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.

As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.

So I became terrified.

And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.

I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.

But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.

I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.

When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.

I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.

As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.

My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.

They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.

The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?

Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?

I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.

The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.

Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.

So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.

But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.

Someone else.

The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.

I was plural.

No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?

It was astonishing.

And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.

It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.

So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.