#a message to me

[sparrowlucero]

speaking of how to train your dragon and creature design, the shift from the really naturalistic art direction and character animation for the first movie's toothless- the face getting flatter, the eyes bigger and closer together, getting rid of the little realistic details like the dust collecting between the scales, the pink splotching where the scales end at the nostrils, the muted markings, the animation making a shift from largely realistic animal behavior to much more anthropomorphic- is such a huge downgrade to me, made worse because it's subtle in such a way that you will sound insane if you mention it

(huge L for the "the audience's capacity to find a creature cute and empathetic and expressive is directly proportional to how much it looks like a human baby" principle of character design because the first one is so so much cuter)

[molags-balls]

big things happening in england

[paintedcrows]

*through tears* HER LITTLE POG CHAMP

[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

[starfalltea]

i like imagining sunday doing the sibling thing hgdfhgjdfs

(original below by @/kronkydei_ on twitter!!)

[nicecrumbart]

Keep thinking about that one scene in secret life

[gael-garcia]

They Do Not Exist (1974) by Mustafa Abu Ali (watch)

from PalestineCinema.com:

Salvaged from the ruins of Beirut after 1982, Abu Ali's early film has only recently been made available. Shooting under extraordinary conditions, the director, who worked with Godard on his Ici et Ailleurs (Here and Elsewhere), and founded the PLO's film division, covers conditions in Lebanon's refugee camps, the effects of Israeli bombardments, and the lives of guerrillas in training camps. They Do Not Exist is a stylistically unique work which demonstrates the intersection between the political and the aesthetic. Now recognised as a cornerstone in the development of Palestinian cinema, the film only received its Palestine premiere in 2003, when a group of Palestinian artists "smuggled" the director to a makeshift cinema in his hometown of Jerusalem (into which Israel bars his entry). Abu Ali, who saw his film for the first time in 20 years at this clandestine event noted: "We used to say 'Art for the Struggle', now it's 'Struggle for the Art'"

[planefood]

some notes based on my travels

[muffinlance]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[duckysprouts]

if you were at your worst, if you’re a villain or a screwup or whatever, there is a goth man dressed as a giant bat who keeps coming after you, bothering you. he sabotages your journey of self destruction over and over. ur ready to give up but he won’t let you. you think, today he won’t come. today he will give up on me too. he never does.

[crazysodomite]

playing with my phonetaur

[everwalldigan]

Only those who have seen the light know that Bruce Wayne is absolutely the type of annoying father who asks for his adult children for grandkids EVERY chance possible. This is the same man who immediately put in his two weeks notice from batman-ing the MINUTE he discovered he had a granddaughter.

Bruce, materialising in bludhaven: when are you and Barbara getting married

Dick: NO.

Bruce: *sad GRANDCHILDLESS noises*

Bruce, materialising in crime alley: when you are going to settle down with a nice girl or guy and give me a-

Jason: *starts shooting*

Bruce, materialising in the clocktower:

Babs: don’t even fucking think about it

Bruce: *dematerialises away sadly*

Finally, at the annual family dinner, Bruce: whoever is the first to bring me a grandchild will be banned from ever having to take over batman

[brie-annwyl]

Jason and Damian meeting at the league but Batfam doesn’t know Jason’s alive is one of my favourite fanfic tropes.

Dick, in his hoe era talking about getting beat tf up by some girl’s boyfriend: I genuinely thought the dude was gonna kill me! I was framed, I swear! Istg someone must’ve planted a strawberry handkerchief on me or something.

Damian, barely listing: was that an Othello reference?

Tim: how did you know that? I didn’t even catch that.

Damian: it was ja- *long pause ensues*

Tim: is his programming malfunctioning?

Dick: Ja??

Damian, brain farting: yep. “Ja”

*frantically messaging Jason saying he almost broke his cover*

—

Damian, annotating Jason’s old copies of the classics: I forgot how much of an idiot you were back then. *takes sticky note off page* “RIP queen, this is actually so depressing.” Yeah, Ophelia just died. Way to state the obvious.

Dick: ??

Damian:

Damian: I’m a medium. He-uh, talks to me.

Dick: oh okay- wait. What?

—

Damian, sneaking back into the manor after having a visit with Jason: *tip toeing his way to the stairs*

Bruce, waiting in the living room with a lamp: Damian, Where were you?

Damian, who can’t improv for shit: uh-

Bruce: *eyebrow raise*

Damian: I was kidnapped by red hood *runs upstairs*

—

Bruce, in his feels era: I wish jaylad was around to see this.

Damian, not thinking: can we not just ask him to come over?

Bruce:

Damian:

Bruce: what-

Damian: we can use a ouija board. That’s how I communicate with him.

Bruce, concerned: what???

[villainanders]

When beloved mutuals are like oh no tumblr might be going down add me on discord! like okay I love you I’m kissing you on the mouth I’ll die without your little posts but am I going to message you? are you going to message me? we all know this is not going to happen.we r open pasture creatures we both need a place to post freely

[macaronirats]

Happy danger days birthday