my post about the baby eating a tomato at the farmer's market has elicited mostly very positive reactions but there have been a couple of comments (since the containment breach) along the lines of "and then everyone clapped." and obviously I have no plans to question the authors of those comments but I am genuinely curious about what part of that story seems implausible to them. the tomato guy giving a baby a tomato for free? a baby happily eating a tomato? bystanders finding a tomato-eating baby adorable?
like it's a cute story sure but it doesn't seem all that credulity-straining to me. it's like if I said "so cozy in bed right now in my jammies" and some random stranger was like "suuuuure you are 🙄"
I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.
Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:
Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao
this is so stupid :D
Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.
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.
IT WAS ERIC AFTER ALL!!!! I'm so glad we got to meet him (before Vil snaps him away with those Infinity Gauntlets) (can't wait to see what happens when we get the matching Infinity Tiara to go with them, there will be no survivors)
(sorry to be so slow/rough lately, just got a lot of stuff on the ol' brain at the moment! alas, if only I could spend all my time drawing incredibly stupid characters I mean I do but)
i've said it already probably but ppl who don't use mobility aids. especially doctors. stop trying to get rid of other ppls mobility aid. stop making that a priority. stop it with the "we gotta get you off that [mobility aid]" "you shouldn't need to be using a [mobility aid]" "let's focus on getting you to where you don't need [mobility aid]" "a [mobility aid]? but have you tried [herb]/[medicine]/ [exercise]/[facebook hack]/[pseudoscience]/[meditation] instead?" "but you look old/cringe/weak/sick". shut up
i don't know why so many of y'all think my end goal is to stop using the thing that helps me. and i KNOW most of y'all wear glasses or contacts but you're not running around trying to find the solution to make you stop needing them. so quit doing it with every other aid just because it reminds you of old or sick people.
especially bc most of y'all don't want to have that reaction when it comes to chronic pain, fatigue or discomfort. i say "my joints hurt" you say "oh well :/". i say "i feel lightheaded all the time" you say "just push through it". i say "my stomach is at least a 7/10 on the pain scale every day" you say "are you sure it's actually that bad? maybe you're exaggerating".
but as soon as i pull out a cane, or a shower chair, or a spinny chair for when im cooking in the kitchen, and i say "finally, im getting really good help!" . that's when you care. and all you want to do is take that away as soon as possible.
you just don't want to fucking see disabled ppl be disabled.
you don't want to have to look at it. you don't want to have to listen to it. you don't want to have to be reminded of it.
but too fucking bad !! i don't care !! im naming and decorating my canes !! they will be the loudest part of my outfits !! the same will go for a rollator if i'll still need one in the future !! i'm going to talk about how i'm disabled regardless of if anyone else can hear me !! because i am !! why should i hide just because YOU don't like it !! close your eyes !!!!!!
before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
Thinking about why Zoro and Sanji's rivalry is so important to both of their characters beyond 'just a gag.' To Zoro, Sanji is the closest thing to Kuina that he has now. Not in the sense of an obstacle he needs to overcome, that's Mihawk, but rather as a rival, he is constantly competing against and pushing him forward in a way even Luffy really can't since while Luffy reminds Zoro of the finish line and his goals, Sanji is the baby steps, he is a representation of getting them and their bickering is the reminder that he has to keep getting stronger and that, even if he hasn't reached where he wants to get yet, he is improving because Sanji is improving and he can't let him become stronger than he is.
Then there is Sanji. I honestly think that Sanji really looks up to Zoro, more so than any other Strawhat. He has done so from the moment they met, and Zoro proclaimed to Luffy he wouldn't lose again. He admires Zoro's strength, yes, and his ability to protect those he cares about without needing to change who he really is, but he also admires Zoro's ambition, his determination to keep going no matter the odds, how important he has made himself to be due to sheer force of will alone and deep down he craves that, to be important and wanted for who he is, but believes himself to be less important than Zoro.
I think that is particularly clear during the 'nothing happened' scene. Sanji offered himself to die there because he thought he was the least important of the straw hats. He owed his life to them, particularly Zoro and Luffy. Zoro, however, offered himself because he refused to see another person he loved die like Kuina did. Sanji was ready to die for that exchange. Zoro wasn't, he was trying to hold on to life until the very end, but he was willing to for the sake of his captain and his crew.
I think that the tragedy of their relationship is that I don't think either of them truly understand the other at all, despite understanding the other better than anyone else in the crew besides Luffy. They don't truly understand how much the other truly cares about them, and so they end up thinking their relationship is considerably more superficial than it actually is.
i wonder how many more people would've vehemently hated gale right off the bat on full release if his introduction conversation had stayed like this or something similar
I really like that they made Jor-El speak Kryptonian and Clark unable to understand him. The whole "aliens speak English" thing that happens in every goddamn media has bothered me all my life. Ik sometimes Clark just gets zapped in the brain for insta-second language but that always felt like a cheap shortcut.
Jor-El had a lot on his mind when he set up that magic spaceship okay. The world was ending and he was trying to do as much as he could before time ran out so he could be there for his son. He was rushing. He likely didn't consider Kal would be raised with a whole different language and not know any Kryptonian nor have anyone to teach him.