#am i using tags right
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flippinegg · 2 years ago
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tiny drawing of a creature
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averysexyleon · 2 years ago
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i was tagged omg i feel so special
9 people you want to know better!
Thank you @thestayathomedragon for tagging me huhuhuhuh
last song i listened to: Kattegat Celebrates the Fallen
currently watching: My wife is begging me to watch twisted metal with her but I've only been able to suffer through two episodes. tv is so hard for me. it's bad. ALTHOUGH we've been loving the new season of WWDITS. Peak tv. nothing better on cable currently other than trump's indictments I guess
currently reading: I just got done a week or so ago with Dark Matter: A Ghost Story and it made me cry so much I will probably pick it up again in a week. I'm also into reading a few fics when they get updated: the blurs of memories, welcome to shop class, and social engineering. What do they have in common? Yeah, Karl. LOL. I'm very predictable.
current obsession: Ethan fucking Winters. I don't know how that idiotic blond bastard has wormed his way so far, so deep, into my cold dark heart but my god do I have nothing but love for him. I was such a Leon purist that I HATED Ethan when I first played 7 and most of the game was me going "ETHAN NO, ETHAN STOP, ETHAN WHY" lol. Now he's waifu, what can I say, I'm a changed man.
I guess technically I'm also obsessed with finishing this goddamn Wintersberg story, but you'd never know it by how FUCKING LONG WINDED IT IS HAHA. I won't even know what to do with myself when I'm done. Cry a lot probably.
Tagging @rosethorns-onyourskin @stutteringphantom @vivern-of-nosgoth @sploingy @vicitamor @nancybadassbyers @nestavadavat @mishwanders AND SERIOUSLY ANYBODY ON MY LIST WHO WANTS TO DO IT PLEASE DO IT AND TAG ME SO I CAN SEE ILY.
-AVSL
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mrironbrain · 2 years ago
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Aight guess im using tumblr now
Yet another twitter refugee. or is it x now. im so so so so so tired of the emerald mine man
at least im not limited to 280 characters now
im gonna educate myself on tumblr ins and outs now so make sure to like and susbribe or whatever. i make stuff that i dont finish that I hope i will, including games, animations and right now a comic
ugh
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uncroppedsoop · 1 year ago
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my friends say I',m like if a cat was given human smartness so you can trust me to be examples of hat your cat is maybe thinking at any moment
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lunastarluminary · 1 year ago
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fr tho
yeah you're "punk" but are you normal about deformed people?
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ralesigh · 7 months ago
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Hiiiiii! You're making a kirby and sonic crossover? I've thought about that a lot. One thing that I think is of note is how in Sonic there was an ancient alien civilization called the ancients, and in Kirby there's an ancient civilization that's heavily implied to be descendants of our own society!
YEA I'M AWARE !! they're definitely gonna have a connection in the au i'm writing :33
so far i've loved figuring out lore connections that i could build upon, it's probably my favorite part of doing this au I LOVE LORE I LVOE IT SOMUCH
feel free to ask anything else pls it'll remind me to use tumblr more often !!
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apollo-the-chaotic-gremlin · 10 months ago
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Quinn with her sword
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manzanamarim · 4 months ago
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So I have been reading svsss here is my first contribution to this fandom
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aggresivelyapathetic · 2 years ago
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This is something I think about literally constantly because. Like. We are all Us to some people, and we are all Them to some people. Actively. Currently. But it's easy for people to forget that.
Human history is defined by different Uses in conflict with different Thems, and even talking about it as "history" gives the impression that it's in the past. But it's not. Literally every single group that exists falls victim to Them vs. Us mentality sometimes. Often with good reason (Us is actively being oppressed by Them so Us has to come together to protect Us). I fall victim to thinking this way all the time myself, even though it's something I'm aware of and am actively trying to combat.
I'm not trying to prove a point here or anything, I'm just frustrated and venting because I don't know what the solution is. But what I DO know is that as long as people think in terms of Us vs Them there will always be conflict and tragedy that could have been avoided if some or all of the people involved had thought of Them as Us.
Now that I work with a bunch of homophobes, I feel the weight of being a 'one of us.'
"Why are women so --- oh but not you, you're different."
"Why are gays so--' but you're not like them, you're more like us."
Krusty The Bird Killer rants for five minutes about black women being 'sluts that all have eight kids with different fathers because they'll lay with anything that moves,' and then talk sweet to our secretary, a black woman in her 40s who doesnt seem to count as a black woman when he's ranting.
I've been trying to put words to this behavior for awhile now. And I think it just comes down to 'us vs them.'
I showed up to work in a cowboy hat and work boots, wasnt afraid of the men's room, and lifted a 50 pound trash bag full of dog shit on my first day. I'm not like other women to them. I dont count. I'm one of us.
I talk about my girlfriend in a quiet way: I dont declare queer supremacy and I dont make my whole life about being queer and oppressed. I'm not like other lesbians. I dont count. I'm one of us.
They dont know me. They dont know my girly interests and they dont know about my political art pieces and they dont know about the fake eyelashes that I wore during pride. They certainly dont know I'm trans.
I passed their test. I'm 'one of the dudes.'
I'm really not, though.
If they saw me outside of work, I would be a Them. But they got to know me first. I'm in their list of "thems that are us." And every them that they meet can be an us. But they dont go out of their way to meet many thems.
I'm a Gay. I'm not the Gays. I'm (to them) a woman. I'm not Women. The secretary is black. But shes not The Blacks (pardon the phrasing, it hurt me to even type it that way.)
Every person is the stereotype of their group until someone gets to know them. But that doesn't disprove the stereotype- it just means that the person doesnt count as part of that group anymore. They're with us now.
Respectability politics really dont get us anywhere. If you're out to disprove the stereotype out of a sense that you'll change their minds, I'm telling you that energy is better spent living authentically if you are safe to do so.
Your influence on them doesnt change their perception of the box they put you in. They just put you in a smaller box. Fuck their opinions.
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eveningrainstorm · 2 months ago
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take responsibility.
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smol-axolotl · 5 months ago
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Just made this. It's a bingo card of all the things that will probably happen in "A Minecraft Movie"
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bedforddanes75 · 7 months ago
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im not american but some of you guys are just fucking stupid ong what do you MEAN youre not gna vote because you disagree with like one part of what youre voting for. like okay me when im fucking thick
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clarionglass · 9 months ago
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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marigraphia · 3 months ago
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I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻
The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)
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And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos
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#superfamilyweek#superman#dcu#clois#lois lane#clark kent#i was actually gonna post this a few days ago but then i found out about the superfamily week#it wasn't made for it but i hope you can accept this humble offering even if it doesn't really fit the prompts#art#digital#fanart#live-action#dc#regular#final#colour#this actually from june when the set photos came out and i just got completely obsessed and went into a clois haze#it all looks so good though!! the whole thing!!!! i'm vibrating with excitement just thinking about it!!!!!!!#if this film isn't good i'm gonna be sooo disappointed you guys have no idea how much i'm looking forward to it#but anyway. ART RAMBLES: as i mentioned on the tags of my last drawing this piece gave me SUCH a headache#i think it's probably cos it was just supposed to be a quick sketch so i used a more stable pencil brush#but then i really liked it so i decided to properly colour it instead of just doing the watercolour thing i usually do for sketches#but with finished pieces i like the lineart to be kinda messy and the sketch to even show through bit#and since i used the more stable brush for the sketch it ended up looking WAY too clean. not like my stuff at all.#so i just started throwing stuff at the wall to see what could make it more interesting. full background! actual lineart! texture layers!#and this here is what i was the happiest with. i don't... love it though. it should be looking way more interesting given the pose#and then i also did the purge girl halfway through this and it looked SO good right out of the bat (pun intended)#so i went a bit into a spiral. did some realistic stuff i'll post soon. and now am trying out a thick black lineart style.#(i'll definitely still use the coloured lines for the sketchy watercolour stuff though. it just looks way too cute)
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bixels · 6 months ago
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I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.
#personal#delete later#no patrick. “black washing” is not as harmful as white washing.#come on guys get it together#seeing people in my reblogs talk about “reverse racism” and double standards is genuinely hypocrisy#say it with me: white washing is intrinsically tied to a historical and systematic erasure of poc figures literature and history.#it is an inherently destructive act that deplatforms underrepresented faces and voices#in favor of a light-skinned aesthetic hegemony#redesigning characters as poc is an act of dismantling symbols of whiteness in fiction in favor of diversification and reclamation#(note that i am talking about individual acts by individual artists as was the topic of this discourse. not on an industry-scale)#redesigning characters as poc is not tied to hundreds of years of systemic racism and abuse and power dynamics. that is a fact.#you are not replacing an underrepresented person with an oft-represented person. it is the opposite#if you feel threatened or upset or uncomfortable about this then sorry but you are not aware of how much more worse it is for poc#if representation is unequal then these acts cannot be equivalent. you can't point to an imbalanced scale and say they weigh the same#if you recognize that bipoc people are minorities then you should recognize that these two things are not the same#while i agree that “black washing” can lead to color-blind casting and writing the behavior here is on an individual level#a black artist drawing their favorite anime character as black because they feel a shared solidarity is not a threat to you#i mean. most anime characters are east asian and i as an east asian person certainly don't feel threatened or erased. neither should you.#there's much to be said about the politics of blackwashing (i don't even know if that's the right word for it)#but point standing. whitewashing is an inherently more destructive act. both through its history of maintaining power dynamics#and the simple fact that it's taking away from groups of people who have less to begin with#if you feel upset or uncomfortable about a fictional white character being redesigned as poc by an artist on twitter#i sincerely hope you're able to explore these feelings and find avenues to empathizing with poc who have had their figures#(both real and fictional) erased; buried; and replaced by white figures for hundreds of years#i sincerely hope you can understand the difference in motivations and connotations behind whitewashing and blackwashing#classic bixels “i'm not talking about this chat. i'm not” (puts my media studies major to use in the tags and talks the fuck outta it)
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kaiserouo · 6 months ago
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if ordan karris wanna complete that sentence does that mean he also likes us?
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