#so if I made an egregious error drawing this

[hyunjiol2]

shrine caretaker

[p0rk-guts]

"Pork you literally posted Charlie a few days ago why are you so Hazbin obsessed rn-" ssshhhhshhsshhs.h........ anyway

VAGGIE REDESIGN! And I changed her name also bc I'm jus like everyone else fr. Meet Verbena :)

BREAKDOWN BELOW!👇🏾+ Exorcist uniform redesign :3

Starting with her name this time. Back when she was still a sinner apparently she was Salvadorian and since she's (apparently?) not a former human at all I decided to take a small creative liberty with her decent and made her Venezualan instead. SOUTH AMERICUH❗❗✊🏾 I'm pretty sure Verbena flowers are native to South America so that's where the name comes from.

Onto the design! I don't have much to say abt her design honestly. It's not egregious, but it doesn't really speak to me either. It looks like simple formal wear or uniform with some strange meaningless accessories attached. And those weird itty bitty shoes that look like they're part of her thigh highs... I'm starting to think all the characters's shoes were a last minute afterthought. All and all it tells us nothing about her character. The hair wings are cool tho so I did steal those

Also the whole deal with her eye is strange to me. Why Is the floating X there??? It's a real physical part of the world, other people can see it. Do pink X's always float over angel wounds? If her arm got chopped off would an X float over it? Was it like. A fucking curse visual placed by Lute as a constant reminder of her disloyalty? Why did Carmilla point out it was an obvious marker for her being an angel???? My brain can't fathom why it's canonically attached to her wound. If she was a sinner I'd kinda understand but. Yeah idk. Weird

Also her missing eye does not look like an empty socket it looks like a purple circle was sticker pasted on to her face. It's very flat. How did we go from this

to this

(IT'S EVEN OVERLAPPING ONTO HER NOSE IN THIS SCREENSHOT WHAT IS THAT THING.)

Anyway. I made her hair resemble Polyphemus moth wings because 1. They have eye looking spots and angels are all eyes and 2. Well. Polyphemus has 1 eye. So . 💀

Her overall coloring however is inspired by a Promethea moth. I could say it's because Prometheus defied the gods and Verbena did a similar thing but the real reason is I made a spelling error while initially looking for a Polyphemus moth reference 💀 but hey they both have eye spots! And Iike their coloring for her way better

I also redesigned the exorcist uniform for her redesign bc I wanted her outfit to have reminiscent elements from it.

I gave way less time to the uniform designs, but I still had some main details I wanted to adress. I don't like how they have no armor save for their helmets. Their arm and leg pieces are made of some flexible material that tears easily. It's not giving soldier it's giving soldier costume from party city. The devil like horns are also confusing to see on an angel and the paradoxical design is never addressed. They can be evil and look imposing, but the horns just seem kinda nonsensically on the nose to show how evil they are. At least to me.

In my designs I gave them actual metal armor on their bodies so you can easily tell they're soldiers and it makes sense for them to battle in armor anyway. I also gave them more light "angelic" colors with gold details bc I wanna use gold as a symbol of angelic nature in my rewrite. I wanted their masks to show completely static expressions with wide grins to show how unnerving they are and to allude to the idea that everyone is happy in heaven, and they're all happy to do what they do.

Verbena's belt and shoulder pads draw visual similarities to the pauldrons and mid section pieces in my new exorcist uniforms to draw a connection between her and her past. The Blazer draping behind her back is also supposed to mimic the visual of folded wings. I also tried to do this with all the gold details in her design. The big hoops and belt we're 80's inspired because I decided to follow how in one of her old designs she died in the 60's (even had the big hoops and everything). In my rewrite exorcists are all former humans but I'll get into that later. Also she's got an eye patch now! Just. A normal one.

Charlie is still taller than Verbena just like in the original and idk how tall Vaggie Is exactly but Verbena is like 5'5 while Charlie is 5'11. Verbena's also got more muscle on her bc unless their muscle mass is hidden magically or they don't gain muscle for stupid dumb idiot lore reasons all the exorcists look way too slim to be military grade soldiers but what do I know

I combined a lot of pointy shapes with boxy shapes bc— more similarly to her pilot self— she can be volatile and fierce but also grounded and impassive. I added the slits to her skirt so she can be a sexy formal lady who can still comfortably throw a few kicks, and the heels— well. Idk I feel like she could slay in heels! She definitely doesn't wear em all the time but yeah. Chunky heels. I like them they're cute. Also she's got her little name tag on bc she takes Charlie's job for her SERIOUSLY! she's uh. Idk what is she. A bellhop? General security/protection? Either way she's locked in.

I imagine she had white irises like Adam and Lute along with brighter more saturated and heavenly colors in her hair (color picked from the Polyphemus moth) that turned darker and more harsh after the fall (color picked from the Promethea moth). Really visualizing her emo phase /j

Also I think the little eyes in her hair can emote with her. In the final design the line kinda makes an eyelid and it'd match her eyelid's movements. Sillay

Alright that's a wrap on my Vaggie redesign! No bonus sketches this time bc they're within the texts! Who knows what I'll do next. Who I will deface. I sure don't. I think I might rename Charlie so there's that. Anywhozies hope you like her <3

[astromitin]

DannyMay Amalgamation

Concept inspired by several Dannymay prompts including:

-Day 6: Transformation

-Day 7: Blood blossoms

-Day 9: Underground

-Day 15: Stars

-Day 10: Family

-Day 18: King

Theres also the prompts that could apply but I get it if you don't see it including:

-Day 5: Cryptid (wasnt touched on much but danny looks pretty gnarly when the gang finds him)

-Day 8: Lost

I just had to get this out before May ended; this went straight from my brain to the internet so ignore any egregious errors for my sake pls.

So basically its Danny being locked away in an ancient coffin-esque device for ghost hunting and buried amongst blood blossoms so he can't escape. They cover both the inside and outside of the coffin considering he was buried in a vat of them, enough to completely cover the box. 

at first he goes for the obv solution,which is to turn back human and try to find a way out like that. however he's been sealed away in a coffin made of one the strongest alloys known to man (courtesy of the GIW) and at the end of the day, hes still a lanky teenage boy so theres no way in hell he's breaking out of that. there’s also no air in the coffin since they completely sealed it to make sure there's no way he can escape, so Danny is forced to go back into his ghost form anyways since he doesn't have to breathe as Phantom. every second he spends as Phantom is agonizing due to the blood blossoms he was buried with, so obviously Danny is eager to escape. he cycles through the wheel of powers that he has, but they’re canceled out by the ectoranium reinforced walls of the coffin, and every time he uses his powers, it only sends another surge of excruciating pain through his body due to the blossoms. 

so eventually he has to give up and just lay there in pain, both external and internal cus not only is his body in great pain, but his core is also in fuckin agony because he's down here suffering while his home is left completely defenseless against the onslaught of ghosts looking for their king. 

the attacks are more brutal than ever because the ghosts had only been holding off due to phantom's insistence, limiting their destruction to buildings and Phantom himself, only targeting humans when their attack would leave them (mostly) intact once it ceased. however with their king not only gone, but suddenly missing, the ghosts have no one to draw the line for them. some ghosts attack amity just because the lack of push back from phantom, but the most truly devastating attacks come from the King's Court, the group of ghosts that battled Phantom the most and kind of taught him the ropes of being a ghost. 

being undead, ergo a functionally immortal creature, change is rare and so when one as big and as somewhat positive as phantom came around, they were elated. so for him to be taken from them as quickly as he came was not only upsetting but massively detrimental to the balance of the GZ due to different ghosts from across the realms and afterlives began to grow rowdy in absence of their king. soo yeah ghosts everywhere were not happy, and they were all too eager to take out their frustration on the world of the living, especially the King's court. 

in the first few years of his disappearance, the court tried to hold back from any major destruction, only crossing the veil to try and gather any information about their missing liege. however the unique nature of Danny's coffin meant that his ghostly signature was effectively muted and the cries of pain that emanated from his core had been silenced. as more time passed and they still had no leads on their king, the court returned back to the states they'd been in before they met Phantom; bitter, angry, and ready to cause chaos and destruction. but this time was worse because their negative feelings actually had reasoning behind it. so this group of some of the most powerful ghosts in the entire freakin Afterlife finally said fuck it, unleashing the full weight of their ire on the world, mostly concentrated on Amity Park (of course). up until this point they’d discouraged other ghosts from attacking the realm of the living because that would be Phantom’s wish, but they didn't outright stop anyone that could make it through, because it is the way of ghosts to basically stay out of each other's business unless it affects them directly. but a few years had passed since Phantom went MIA and they were tired of scrounging for scraps of information about the missing king and running themselves ragged trying to keep the different realms from imploding on themselves.

so yeah they start goin ham. because of Phantom, Amity Park had never really faced anything ghostly that was detrimental to their way of living, so now with Phantom gone, they, along with the GIW, got to truly witness firsthand just how much Phantom was protecting them from. of course, they tried to fight back with those idiot Fenton scientists leading the charge, but a small midwestern town versus an entire army of the undead constantly coming through a portal THEY made to fuck with them made for a hilariously sad matchup, and Amity Park became a dystopic war riddled ghost town (haha get it). the only humans spared were the humans of the Kings court (tucker, sam, n jazz) who'd become a little bit (read: exceedingly) more jaded and numb to the suffering of their fellow humans after losing Danny. they'd vehemently fought against the GIW and by extension, the rest of the town when they initially began the manhunt for phantom.

 they protested, they pleaded, and went down kicking and screaming when they finally did catch Danny. they spent the night of Danny's supposed execution locked up and being examined closely by ecto-scientists and other GIW staff since they truly believed the only way a human could take up for and defend a ghost in any way is if they were being possessed. they never even got to say goodbye; to their homes, to their families, to Danny. 

The GIW ended up chalking it up to increased exposure to ectoplasm and radiation and put the three through tests, trying to purge them of their "affliction". When this didn't work (because duh, of fuckin course it wouldnt), the tests slowly became more invasive and painful as they started testing out new alternative ways to "cure" these kids. these tests had never been tested on other living beings to make sure they were safe, but the GIW was desperate to "help them" (read: get rid of something that wasn't there) so agents continued on with the procedures. 

Tucker's parents were the only ones to have doubts and ask the GIW about their boy, to which they responded to by declaring their boy to be severely ecto-impaired and telling them that if they didn't purge the immense amounts of radiation from their child's system, it could greatly shorten his lifespan and forever bind him to the living realm as an unfeeling wisp of himself once he finally does pass on. they told the Foleys that unless they let Tucker stay with him, he would never be able to lead a good normal life. he would be stuck empathizing with the enemies of humanity and further distancing himself from his own humanity until all that remained was an angry bitter husk, a living ghost. after that particular letter, the Foleys stopped trying to get their son back, resorting to sending him letters and pictures that the boy would never get to see. Sam and Jazz's parents never even tried for differing reasons, but both girls unfortunately got the message. 

and so the teens spent the latter half of their childhood (and in Jazz's case, the beginnings of her adulthood) in a testing facility away from their families and anyone else that mightve loved them, only with each other to cling to for comfort in the excessively warm and bright lights of their "rooms" that they knew were only cells.

when the facility that they were being held captive in went on lockdown one day a few years into the future, the three didn't hesitate. their time as experiments (because let's face it, after the first few tests,the GIW knew there wasnt anything they could do) gave them a lot of time to memorize which agents were weakest, which scientists were less liked amongst their peers, and most importantly, the faces of those who had hurt them the most. so when the power went out, the three were freed from their cells and they made sure not to waste this opportunity. they jumped any agent that stood in their way, made hostages of the weaker scientists to get away in a pinch, and brutally executed those whose faces they dreaded seeing peering into their cells, who haunted them every night and made them wake up in a cold sweat with horrified screams or broken sobs on their lips , who would continue to haunt their dreams for decades to come. 

when they finally, finally made it to an exit, they found themselves staring down the business end of an ecto powered guitar, which quickly lowered to reveal the shocked face of none other than Ember. she quickly brought the three weary humans back to the GZ with her, where they were promptly taken in by the rest of the King's court and nursed back to health. of course, being nursed back to health in the ghost zone means consuming a lot of ectoplasm, so the three received ghostly enhancements as they recovered from their time with the GIW. it was only when they were fully back to peak health rocking cool new ghosty fits to go with their ecto enhanced power ups (im a ho for sick outfit changes) (blame the winx) that they were allowed back into the realm of the living. 

meanwhile, Danny has fully given up on anyone finding him. he can't tell exactly how much time has passed, but he knows it's been a lot. sometime around year 2 he began to count out seconds, which turned to minutes and hours, keeping some semblance of time for himself. it became a self soothing pastime, and it reminded him of clockwork which caused him to break down every once in a while, but he never lost count. but even this became unbearable for him, having to keep track of time only reminded him of how much he was missing. even though the coffin muted his signature, he could still feel the spiritual energy of those far above him, still on the surface. he was buried outside of Amity Park, but that didn't stop him from feeling the sharp influx of panic and fear that suddenly emanated from the humans above him one day around year 9. 

Danny's days were largely spent disassociating, staring numbly at the panicked scratches on the lid of his coffin that he remembers leaving on the first day of being locked away, and subsequently the weeks following. after all, what was to be done when you're buried about 40 feet underground in a coffin made specifically to cause you pain that was also so small you could hardly turn around in it? anyways, the spike of fear and pain initially made Danny recoil. he'd felt enough fear and pain himself to last him several human lifetimes, thank you. but when the feeling persisted he felt himself grow...curious. not worried or anxious. just curious. 

during the first few years, his core leaped at any negative emotion from the humans above that he'd figured happen with  each ghost attack. it was a special kind of agony for Danny to be unable to fulfill his obsession, to feel his core trying desperately to pull him towards the danger to help, to fight, to do something. eventually though, his core got the memo that he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon and resolved to wither away in his chest. Danny grew weaker, more despondent until he was hardly able to move, even despite the limited space he had. he still felt a jolt every time there was a ghost attack, but it became commonplace, and therefore easier to ignore as time passed. however, when he felt that spike of fear, he experienced surprise for the first time in damn near a decade when his core didnt jerk in his chest. in that moment he understood why change was so sacred to his kind, because after being static for so long, he found that he valued this new development. it gave him something to focus on, something to feel other than the depression tinted numbness that had become his norm. he held onto that curiosity, letting it clear away the fog in his brain as questions began forming in his head. whats happening up there? why dont i care? whats up with my core? why is this surge of fear lasting so much longer than the other ones?

fucccck chat im runnig out of steam

time passed and the fear persisted, giving Danny something to focus on. he could also feel the terror from above slowly but surely returning his strength. initially, finding out that ghosts could quite literally feed off of fear when he was younger didn't exactly inspire the best feelings in him, but now he could feel nothing but grateful. it wasnt anywhere even remotely near what it used to be, but he could finally move again after years of being stagnant and he preened as much as he could at the development.

over time, the agony from the blood blossoms had dulled into a painful buzz that Danny had accepted into his new standard. this meant that while he was still unable to use his powers unless he wanted to feel a wave of torment (sometimes he did, just to remind himself that he was still conscious, still sentient, still here), his senses had more or less returned, if not a little dulled. so when he felt the presence of something with a large amount of ectoplasm approaching his grave, he felt something for the first time in a very very long time. he couldnt put his finger on it, but he didnt really have time to dissect that at the moment either as the presence got even closer. 

desperately, he tried sending out pulses of energy, a non verbal cry for help, screaming im here! im right here! save me! save me! it was pure unfiltered hell. every cell in his body burned in anguish with every pulse, but he didnt stop. he didnt stop when ectoplasm began leaking from his eyes and nose, he didnt stop when his throat felt like it was being ripped to bloody shreds as he coughed up enough ectoplasm to spill down his front and color the glowing blood blossoms next to him a sickening shade of green, and he didnt stop when the presence above him paused before making its way over on top of him.

his cries only grew more in intensity as the blood blossoms continued their tortuous assault on his body, his mind, and his core. It was hellishly unbearable, and still he kept crying out as more presences made themselves known before settling with the first one. They felt frantic, which only drove Danny to push harder, cry louder, withstand the pain even more. Ectoplasm was freely flowing from his eyes now, mixing with his tears as he banged on the lid of the godforsaken coffin that had been holding him captive all this time. as unbearable as the pain was, he could hardly feel it over the desperation pumping through his entire being as he pleaded hurry hurry please it hurts. 

and with that final push, he felt movement from the outside of the coffin for the first time since he'd first been buried. there was banging on the lid, which he only reciprocated in an increasingly distressing pattern. out out outoutoutoutOutOutOUT he pulsed even as the banging continued. it felt like another decade passed as whoever was above him attacked the lid of his coffin in a frenzied state of desperation, though danny knew it couldnt have been more than a minute. After a few more seconds, the banging stopped, and Danny felt the desperation, the fear, the hope that had been building inside of him surge forward in a devasting combination. HELP ME! It was then when he heard the grating sound of rusty hinges being forced from their position. 

He let out a pitiful sound when the scratched surface of the coffin lifted away. the first thing he noticed was the full moon, its silver light illuminating his form in a way that he'd forgotten in all his time spent in the coffin. he often dreamed about seeing the sky again, and now his breath caught in his throat as he stared in quiet astonishment of it all. It was both everything he remembered and yet so different. The names of the constellations he could see came flying back to his head like they'd never left. They were all in their same placements, the moon was still the same shape, and yet, they looked brighter than they ever had in his memory. The stars twinkled, their light falling across the forms that he'd failed to notice until now, but once he did felt himself begin to sob again, wailing in earnest as he took in the faces of his court standing around the hole they dug to reach him. 

There was Johnny and Kitty, the biker holding his girlfriend close as she cried tears of her own, the hand over her mouth muffling the worse of her cries. there was Ember, the flames of her hair burning brighter and hotter to correspond with the emotions that swirled in her eyes. her guitar hung limply from her hands as she looked on with what seemed like a crushing relief and a deep sadness. from Desiree to Pandora, they were all there. Danny couldn't stop wailing as he felt strong, fur covered arms wrap around his form and lift him out of that wretched coffin, heedless of the blood blossoms despite feeling how those arms tensed slightly in pain as they made contact with the stupid flowers. yet they still did not waver, lifting him to be held against a firm yet warm chest. 

Danny could barely make out Frostbites face through the ectoplasm and tears, but from what little he could see, the yeti’s thick eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked as if he was trying to keep from crying himself. instead, he lowered his head, pressing his forehead against Danny's as the boy continued to weep in his embrace. Danny weakly wrapped his arms around the yeti's thick neck as he felt the rumble of Frostbite’s voice. "welcome back, great one"

 the yeti floated out of the hole and was immediately swarmed by the ghosts of Danny's court, all trying to get a better look at their king and see if he looked like he was getting worse. however before any of them could do anything else, three forms shot to the front of the mob. 

"DANNY!" 

and for the first time in entirely too long, Danny finally laid eyes on his family. they all clung to whatever part of danny that they could reach and Danny did the same, desperate to touch them, to feel them, to make sure that they were real and wouldnt disappear in wisps of smoke. Tucker was a blubbering mess, clinging to Danny's arm and sobbing into the frail boy's chest. Sam wasn't much better as she stood by his knees, furiously wiping her dripping eyes to no avail. eventually she just settled on perching her hands on his legs as if reassuring herself that he was really and truly here. and Jazz?

she gently took Danny's head in her hands, face crumpled in anguish as she cried. she looked him over before pressing several kisses all over his face, just like how she used to when they were younger. Danny's heart broke at the realization and he threw his arms around the now woman.

 "i missed you so much little brother"

[varistanveynesunmourne]

Motion to Postpone

Tw: drug use, language

Amrice Reginald Imryk Swicegood slapped aftershave on his freshly shaved face and hissed through cold capped teeth at the sting. Whistling through said teeth, he slopped his hands with pomade and slicked back his shoulder length, ruddy hair. Bobbing his head and giving the narrow hips a little shake, Amrice danced along with his whistling because? 

Because today was an amazing day. 

Ma had made him some fucking marshmallow squares and the powder he’d snorted made him feel like a million gold pieces. Fuck, he thought. I’m handsome, grinning in the mirror. 

Swicegood was, in fact, not particularly handsome. A fan of drunken, bare knuckle boxing his nose had been broken a dozen times and it showed. He had too many freckles. His eyes were squinty and always bloodshot. He was too skinny yet had a pretty impressive paunch from too much beer and exceptionally high blood pressure. 

He gave his reflection a wink. And sauntered, whistling through the gap in his teeth, into his bedroom. He had the decorative tastes of a very coked up goblin. There were a LOT of animal skins. Zebra. Cheetah. Above the circular velvet draped bed was a velvet painting of a very buxom Kaldorei. 

He slid on a royal purple silk shirt, lit a cigar, and draped his scrawny neck in gold chains. He slid thick gold rings on his knobby, tattooed fingers and stepped into immaculately pressed white trousers. Next came the jacket, crisp and bright white too. The white was his signature look. It made him look more…trustworthy. To finish the look today, was a skinny white tie and his albino alligator boots. 

He kissed his Ma goodbye on the cheek like a good son would do, snorted some more powder ‘for the road’ and headed to his office on Murder Row, whistling off key. 

He had a pretty little blonde thing for a secretary. Amrice barely resisted the urge to pinch her shapely derrière but he had work to do today. 

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he greeted, sitting on the edge of her desk. “I need a Motion to Postpone drawn up. The file is on my desk, all the client’s information.” 

She wasn’t really listening to him and he sighed. 

“Hey. Sweet cheeks.” He snapped his fingers in her face. “I said draw up a Motion to Postpone and shit…throw in a Petition to Delay too. Why not? Let’s annoy the piss outta plaintiff. She’s a real ball buster, I hear. And another lawyer too.” The girl was staring at him, lip curled in annoyance. “Hey. Pay attention, okay? This is for the Old Dog, all right?” 

The secretary straightened, taking him seriously now. 

“And I need it in triplicate, cupcake. One to the court, one for my files and one to a Ms. Nubbin.” 

With that, Amrice slid off her desk and strutted like a rooster to his office to smoke cigars and look at Goblin Gentleman’s Monthly. 

Later that afternoon, a courier would arrive at Ms. Nubbin’s office with a very…very annoying copy of Swicegood’s motion. And petition.

Royal High Court of Silvermoon

Office of Attorney Amrice Reginald Imryk Swicegood Esq. 

MOTION TO POSTPONE/PETITION TO DELAY

(FORM 234A and FORM 81C)

RE: Alleged vandalization of the Law Office of Ms. Nubbin Attorney at Law

The Allegedly Aggrieved Party: Ms. Nubbin

AND

The Alleged Vandal: Varistan Veyne Sunmourne, Hero of Silvermoon, Veteran of Northrend, orphan

On Behalf of the Defense:

THIS MOTION TO POSTPONE and PETITION TO DELAY is humbly submitted for the pleasure of the court because the initial complaint documents contain no less than SIX clerical errors including the insulting misspelling of my client Mister Sunmourne’s middle name. It is Veyne. Not Vain. This is a heinous misrepresentation and is a soul crushing blow to Mister Sunmourne’s self esteem. As such, we are requesting a PETITION TO DELAY so that we may have the time to draw up our counter suit for EMOTIONAL DAMAGES. 

THE MOTION TO POSTPONE is to give the plaintiff, Ms. Nubbin, enough time to correct her EGREGIOUS clerical errors. Also, Ms. Nubbin did fail to consult a Sigil-Notary before affixing her seal to her claim and pursuant to section 18 of 490F, this renders the document moot and invalid. Therefor, my client, Mister Sunmourne, is not legally required to respond. 

It is signed Amrice Reginal Imryk Swicegood Esq in a flourish of garish purple ink. There is a little heart drawn next to his name. 

He did seal it with a Sigil-Notary. 

His wax seal is a fucking rooster. 

@wranubbin

@chiarosunscar

[smiggles]

I have a genuine question, I hope I haven't made an egregious error.

What makes an artist's OC different from any other character, in your mind?

From my perspective, if people make fanfic of large despite writers not wanting that, which is common around here, that shouldn't be different from people making fanart or fanfics of another peer's work.

Unless you are talking about profiting off or stealing somebody's work, in which case I am so sorry for my Tumblr level reading comprehension.

I'm not literate or educated enough to speak on corporate owned designs however If someone says Hey dont make fan content of my characters (or dont do it without asking) And you do it anyway Youre rude. And youre mean. Drawing or writing about another artists characters against their wishes is still stealing. Many artists OCs are VERY dear to them and just because they share it online doesnt make it okay for strangers to take them no matter how flattering it may seem

[bluespring864]

"They tell me I'm mentally strong. I'd say: not yet."

From the latest Sky Sport hour long interview with Jannik (Jannik oltre il tennis: Sinner un anno dopo)

- talks about how it always feels special to play Carlos, how he feels a different energy when playing him and how it feels different to see his name in the draw

- talks about how fortunate he feels to be a tennis player, and puts his job into perspective ("not like a doctor who can't make mistakes during an operation")

- talks about how it's probably not possible to be "happy" on court but how he strives to be cheerful/joyful

- analyses how competitiveness is something you have inside yourself and describes how it manifested itself when he was a child (he is 22, how in god's name is he so self aware?)

- gets asked about critics, e.g. people saying "he's never going to be as good as Alcaraz" and how he feels about it, says criticism is a positive thing because it shows he's at a level where people are interested in what he does, and it's usually something that will make him go "I'll show you" but that he also tries not to put too much stock in it because he knows best how hard he works ("and of course I'm a bit happier when people compliment me instead" *cute little grin*)

- when asked about it says the match point against Carlos at last year's US Open was very painful and it took a few nights to get over it and that during this year's US Open loss the cramps he had must have been a mental issue "a bit like what happened to Carlos with Nole at Roland Garros"

- playing in Italy is the most beautiful thing for him "because I feel at home"

- tennis is an individual sport but you have your team and when you practice, you practice WITH the other player, you have to in order for practice to work, so there is a certain team aspect there as well, it's only when you are on court for the match that you're truly alone

- "the best feeling for a tennis player is when you feel that it's a beautiful match and that you're part of a beautiful match"

- "respect is the most important thing in sport and I respect a player whether he's the No.1 or the No. 2000, because respect isn't based on ranking or strength"

- when asked about maturity levels and how grown up he feels he talks about leaving the dishes in the sink for three days, which is just about the sweetest most relatable thing he could have said (I don't have a dishwasher either, Jan and I still leave the dishes in the sink, don't beat yourself up about it)

There was lots and lots more in there, go watch it if you can! [And disclaimer that I don't speak a word of Italian and my Italian comprehension stems from hearing it a lot at work and speaking related languages, if I've made an egregious translation error please correct me!]

The interview is here (VPN set to Italy needed if outside of Italy)

And I also recommend watching the first interview done a year ago, also on YT (Jannik oltre il tennis: Sinner si racconta)

[swiftsnowmane]

My character-depiction pet peeves

Note: I'm eternally grateful for all the fanfic writers and fan artists out there who grace us with their beautiful creations, so this isn't meant to undermine that whatsoever. That being said, as someone with strong headcanons and preferences, I can't help but have some Opinions (TM) on certain depictions of my fave characters.

Sansa and Sandor:

Sandor with a beard - just NO. This is no doubt so common because of the influence of the GoT tv show's Rory McCann, but I personally detest it. Nothing against beards normally, I usually love them on men. However, the way book!Sandor is described, he would look utterly ridiculous with a beard as he'd literally only have HALF of one. If book!Sandor must have a 'beard', I will accept it only in instances where he and Sansa have been traveling in the woods for a while and he hasn't had the time or means to shave.

Sandor with brown hair - ew. no. see above. Sandor isn't Rory McCann. Book!Sandor very much has black hair. If I encounter a fic that describes him with 'brown hair and a beard' I immediately click out.

Depictions of Sansa wearing some kind of Russian-inspired Northern outfit - no offense intended to those who have used this style in their works, but I have a pretty visceral negative reaction due to the current Russian invasion of Ukraine. It's just a big fat NOPE for me. Also, I don't recall anywhere in the books where Sansa's outfits are described in such a manner, it just seems like a total artistic licence that some people take. My own headcanon is that the Starks wear typical (Western European) medieval clothing that simply happens to be warmer than the styles in the south.

Star Wars:

Fan artists forgetting to depict Anakin's mechanical arm - for some reason this is insanely common. Any post-AotC depiction has to remember this, but I often see people drawing him shirtless in some romantic pose with Padme only to then immediately notice they've given him two flesh arms! I get that this error is not done on purpose, but it does usually mean I don't reblog the fan art as I find it too distracting. Similarly when people forget the scar over his eye , but I think forgetting his mech arm when he's shirtless is the far more egregious ommision, since we literally see him shirtless with his mech arm on display in the RotS film!

Fandom only ever depicting Ahsoka in the Disney outfits and ignoring her original pre-disney TCW design - this is one of my biggest annoyances. I can't stand most of Ahsoka's disney outfits, and I get so frustrated that it's no longer common to see her original iconic burgundy designs anymore. Means I generally don't reblog much fan art of her anymore, sigh.

Fan art that is incredibly beautiful and is meant to depict 'the Skywalker saga' in its entirety, but then includes details or nods to the Disney Sequels - UGH, NO. THOSE GAWDAWFUL FILMS ARE NOT A LEGITIMATE CONTINUATION OF THE SAGA AND I SHALL NOT REBLOG ANYTHING THAT IMPLIES OTHERWISE.

Tolkien:

Fan art that gives Elves those super long pointy triangular ears (usually inspired by Zelda or similar anime-esque designs) - apologies to anyone who depicts them like this, but I cannot stress how ugly I find this look and how much of a turn-off it is. I don't care how gorgeous the artist has made Maedhros look, if he's got those fugly ears I will probably not reblog. :/ Call me boring all you want, but the Eldar of my headcanons will always have either very subtle points on their otherwise-normal ears (such as in the LotR films), or will have their ears hidden under their hair so as to leave it up to the imagination. Why? I just think the super long ones are unpleasant to look at and don't fit the aesthetic of my imagination.

[burnt-to-cynders]

Okay, I’m gonna stick to the raw evidence I’ve seen, so here’s the facts that I have available to me.

I have barely ever even seen predstrogen post pictures, period, let alone seen a mistagged nsfw picture on her blog. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened, but I can’t find it so I can’t assume it’s there.

On the other hand, I have seen examples of several anonymous asks, sent both to her and other tumblr users about her, that would definitely constitute harassment.

A few of those asks were sent by non-anonymous users and all the one’s I have seen have been banned

I have seen the cars and hammers post.

The cars and hammers post is so hilariously not a threat I’d be laughing if the subject of the post were not taking it as an excuse to ban a trans woman for life from the platform he executives.

Several different tumblr users have pointed out that there is an ongoing harassment campaign against predstrogen, presumably referring to the asks I mentioned in 2.

@photomatt answered an ask last night about the growing sentiment among trans women on tumblr that staff is transphobic, in which he claimed that she had made multiple TOS violations, including posting unlabeled nsfw pictures, threatening people, and harassing them. He also misgendered her initially, but edited the post after several people pointed it out(although first he changed the wording to refer to “the account”)

When pressed to show these tos violations, Matt provided a screenshot of (initially url-less, later shown to be) predstrogen commenting on how she thought posting about her death wishes about Matt would get her banned, which he later added the context of the above post being the cars and hammers post.

Predstrogen’s account was banned, as well as the second account(apparently she has had to make new accounts a few times due to getting banned for similar issues, but I’ve only followed her for less than a year) she made to document most of the things that happened to her.

Specifcslly, her first account was banned after posting a completely sfw transition timeline photo, and her second account was banned right after posting a screenshot of the above mentioned reply, with more or less incredulity at the fact that the ask response referenced contacting the police and fbi.

Matt seems to be taking the backlash personally, publicly apologizing for the perceptions of transphobia on his personal blog and lamenting the initial ask reply. He has not done anything to indicate a reversal on the predstrogen decision, and insists that there are many more examples of harassment from her. He has answered several more asks and repeatedly encouraged people to “not patronize a business you think is transphobic”

SO, what can we draw from these facts? Well, one thing I can say, for sure, is that with what I currently know and what I have seen, predstrogen should not have been banned. Unless Matt has some significantly more egregious examples of threats, or examples of harrassment(people calling you transphobic isn’t harassment), or any examples of an unlabeled mature post(hell I don’t think I’ve even seen a labeled mature posts on her blog), then I think any bans applied to her accounts are in error and if staff are sitting on a big pile of nothing and not doing that, that is gonna draw their morality and ability to effectively moderate this site into even further question than it has been.

The terfs I’ve seen harassing Rita, at least when they’re stupid enough to leave their names visible, have been banned. I can’t follow the thread to see if claims about them being able to easily remake accounts and continue doing terf shit because i don’t run in terf circles enough to know who they were and what happened afterward. Assuming they aren’t back, this is a good thing, and I’ll give that point of credit where it’s due. However, it is worth noting that while Rita remains banned, this still looks like transphobia and deplatforming and threatening a trans woman(actually threatening her. With, y’know, the fbi). If I wanted to be extremely uncharitable, I could point out that banning terfs and trans women doesn’t make a space safe for trans women, and in fact makes it look like you’re only banning the terfs so you can say “well we don’t allow terfs so we can’t be transphobic!”

Conclusión: Im really disappointed with staff and with tumblr’s ceo in particular. It’s not hard to see why a lot of popular trans blogs are considering moving off platform and tons more are expressing general frustration. In particular, what has happened to predstrogen demonstrates a terrifying cycle that scares me and makes me worried for my own safety if I ever attract a large following on here. She has been targeted by terfs, apparently for years, in an open harassment campaign and has been threatened multiple times. She has referenced having stalkers. She is repeatedly suspended for community violations that are later referred to as “bugs”, but then suddenly one day she’s banned permanently for a post that doesn’t violate tos at all, and when she makes another account to call attention to this wrongful ban, she is banned again and threats about bringing in law enforcement are made by the ceo of the website. A woman that is the subject of years of harassment and credible threats to her safety is being gaslit about being the perpetrator of those very same things, and nothing is being brought to light to verify those claims.

[owedfavors]

the near-glare she gives him at his amendment to her words is a silent christopher, we've been through this. but they are both too tired to rehash that argument, protests more perfunctory — if no less heartfelt for being so — than purposeful, and the sharpness in her gaze is quick to soften.

❛ that I never doubted. ❜ yet, while she had never doubted the fact of it, she still had repeatedly underestimated it: the degree to which he would fight what was done, the extent to which her absence would linger in lasting effects. who knew what other evidence of her miscalculation would surface, in near or distant future.

to miscalculate so... it seems obvious now, the blindness. the singleminded focus on the path she'd set: the decisions made, the perfect execution of a plan that did not brook the slightest error. in it, she had missed the bigger picture, and of course she had. her old tendencies, magnified to an extreme by circumstance — and by the absence of their familiar counterweight. after all, the big picture ( and the human factor no less relevant here ) had always been his strength, and not hers.

she does not add that what one wants is not always the solution to the equation; that's another road they've already been down in the past days. instead, she draws a deep breath and reaches for a version of herself belonging to another place and time. arching her brow, she asks, ❛ are you really going to pass up an opportunity to make a whole ado about the fact that I, apparently, got something egregiously wrong? ❜ for once, she does not add, though her tone implies it. but of course he is, when considering the nature of her error, this is neither the time nor place. yet they need a way forward, a way out, and she knows none other than their old language, unsuitable though it may be. ❛ or are you merely waiting until I think I am safe? ❜

a stubborn, hopeful part of his heart clings to a fragile narrative that he invented in his own head. christopher dissects her words, imagines she's lying out of kindness so he'll finally let her go, that she can't be telling him the truth, she must regret leaving enterprise as deeply as he misses her, but deep down he knows it is futile, another sorry attempt to change the past when he finds himself stuck in a present he hates.

una has kept her secrets close to her chest, but she's never lied. not to him, not really.

❛⠀ it was the worst of a set of bad options, ⠀ ❜ ⠀ he corrects, but there is no heat behind his words, they fall from his lips with a settled weariness that pushes down his shoulders and shadows his features. an argument for the sake of argument, to remind her that he'll never accept this distance she created. his time is limited, and he is not selfish enough to change the future, but he is selfish enough to desire to have her by his side in the present, screw the consequences.

his hand reaches forward, gently stilling the restless tapping of her finger, cradling it within his own. ❛⠀ i wanted you to stay. ⠀ ❜ enterprise is not the same without her; he feels back to his first time stepping on the bridge after discovery went to the future, as if he was missing something. he was missing a ship. a crew. the exact way the captain's chair felt against his back on the science ship, all the little details that made the ship unique, una left a similar hole, leaving behind a different enterprise in her absence.

[preggydump]

Long time lurker, first time poster. I never really post anything here, I usually just reblog but I've actually been drawing some mpreg art lately and I even typed up a thing, so I figured I'd share it!

Warning: mentions of religion (but in like a these awful people who used religion to justify their shitty view are in Hell for eternity type of way :) )

This is surely a mistake! And I am going to make whoever made this egregious error sincerely regret this outrageous mistake that they’ve made, there must be somebody around here that I can speak to get to the bottom of how this error is going to be resolved. And if they can’t help me, then I’ll find someone else who can! I’m a devout man! I’ve never sinned a day in my life! In fact I detested blasphemers and sinners, and I let them know the error of their ways! I’m not one of them! And I deserve to be treated as a man loyal to his church and family should!

“Heh yeah, that’s what they all say!” The burly demon interrupted Darien’s thoughts, his voice deep and even more unsettling than the fact that he’d seemingly read his thoughts. He’d never been inside an active volcano, but somehow he knew that’s what it reminded him of. “To be honest with you though, the ones who claim they’ve ‘never sinned a day in their life’ 99% of the time end up down here.” The demons sharp laugh of amusement brought up an image of volcanic rock crashing down of the roof of a wooden house. Another moment which Darien had never experience, but the memory sprang unbidden to his mind all the same. Shaking the false memories and the uncomfortable feeling that his thoughts could be heard in… this place… out of his head, Darien regained his composure. He would have to remain stronger than ever if he wanted his soul to remain intact while this mistake was being sorted out.

“Hmph! Then what of the 1%! Surely I belong with them, the other 99% are obviously liars and sinners.” He proclaimed as he stuck out his chin and crossed his arms in a futile attempt at establishing some sort of authoritative air. It was somewhat ruined by the fact that his feet would no longer listen to him, and followed the demon of seemingly their own accord. Not to mention, he could feel his new ear piercing jingle a bit against his cheek. It was a disgusting thing, not just because it was an unseemly ear piercing, but in the brief glimpse he’d seen of it before the demons used a device to insert it in his ear lobe, it looked like a tag of some sort, like those used for cattle or livestock. Darien tried not to shiver at the thought of what that may mean for his eternal future. Or at least his future until this mix-up was fixed, and he hoped and prayed that it would be fixed as soon as possible. The demon burst into howling laughter, which filled him with a deep primal instinctual fear that shook his resolve and memories of earth shattering and breaking that Darien, or no living thing for that matter, could have ever experienced in their lifetime.

“They were being sarcastic! Oh man, the 1%! Whew, the irony!” The demon wiped a tear of laughter away from his eye, a droplet of molten lava which flew a few feet away and sizzled where it landed. Darien’s jaw moved up and down as he tried to put on a brave face and argue, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. “And thoughts and prayers will do ya even less good down here than it did when you were up there, not that it even does anything up on Earth.”

“But I- Surely there must be a mistake…” Darien quietly said again, feeling smaller and more vulnerable than he ever had when he was a living man on Earth. The hulking demon gave him what appeared to be a sympathetic glance, which had the opposite effect of making Darien feel even worse.

“It’s not so bad once you get used it! There’s a bit of adjustment period, but that’s always how it is when something changes! Once I get you to your assigned sector there will be a team of expert demons to help you settle in-“

“Pastor Joseph?!” The demons attempt at consoling one of Hell’s newest residents was interrupted by Darien’s shout. They had just come across a gathering of demons and humans, conversing together in little groups. Darien instinctually began to sneer at the lot, obviously they deserved whatever fated torture they had been brought down here for. Much, much more than Darien himself did! But at the glimpse of a somewhat familiar face in the crowd, made Darien stop in his tracks. So shocked was he, at the sight of a long-time pastor of his church, in fact one of the best pastors they’ve ever had in his opinion, that he didn’t even notice his feet had suddenly decided to listen to him. The demon escorting him to his destination looked around confused for a moment but found who had caught Darien’s attention.

“Oh! You know Joey?”

“Joey?!” Darien asked incredulously. But sure enough, at the call of Pastor Joseph, the familiar face had barely paid the call any mind, not even to react as if to the buzzing of a bug. But at the mention of ‘Joey,’ he looked around for whoever had called, as if that was his real name, instead a taunting nickname these demons had obviously implemented as part of some undeserved torture. As his head turned, and their eyes met Dariens stomach twisted in shock. The pastor now sported a large pair of demonic horns, his eyes still a bright blue but now more serpentine in nature, and long tail ending in a spade protruded from his spine. But as Joey moved in the direction his name was called, Darien couldn’t help but gasp in horror as the most prominent change in his previous pastor’s appearance made itself visible.

Joey waddled towards them, his enormous belly swaying with his movement. So firm and round and heavy that he moved with one hand at the base of it to support it’s girth, the short jean shorts he wore doing nothing to provide any support at all. His short shorts were in fact completely unbuttoned, unzipped, and looked like they might rip apart at the seams at any moment with how they seemed to strain around his plump thighs and ass. From the front it looked like he was wearing nothing at all, except for the cropped, much too cropped, top. Even then, as Joey moved closer Darien realized even that small strip of cloth left nothing at all to the imagination. Not only was the top an extremely see-through sheer black mesh, but it in no way whatsoever hid the breasts that lightly bounced on his bloated belly as he walked, no- waddled. With the way it ended right on his swollen puffy nipples, the hem tenting out over them, that the top made them stand out even more. The bright red letters DILF embroidered on what little space the shirt had left, if it could even be called a shirt, was the only part that could be considered ‘covering’ anything.

Darien tried to step back as he recoiled in disgust and horror, but his feet had stopped listening to him again. Just when he believed the situation couldn’t be worse, that this must be some sort of horrible nightmare, for how could the holiest, most virtuous, pious man he’d ever known be down here of all places! And… and in such a state! He did not think he could feel more disgusted, more horrified, more repelled; he noticed that in Joe- no, Pastor Joseph’s ear was a tag, similar to one he’d briefly seen before it was forced through his very own earlobe. It was only a small comfort that at least they were not the same color, Joseph’s being an orangey-red, while Darien could just see the green glow of his out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey Gozomaal! It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve seen you here!” Joey-Joseph’s face lit up in a way Darien had never seen before, as he recognized the large demon whose name was apparently Gozomaal. Then he looked at Darien, an unabashedly confused look on his face. “And you, hmm I feel like I recognize from somewhere… have we met before?”

“P-pastor Joseph? I- Is that really you? It can’t be. There truly must… There truly must be something wrong here, there has to be some mistake now! Don’t you remember I was one of your parish, I followed your teachings, attended your mass every Sunday!”

“Oooooh.” A tiny spark of recognition had been ignited, but Joseph was obviously still confused. Darien tried to ignore how the priests’ hand roamed over the over-swollen dome of his belly, how a small bump appeared, the movement of whatever monstrous creature nested inside, and he rubbed circles over it as if to soothe it. “I sorta remember now, what was your name again? Derek? Erick? Mick?”

“N-no! My name is Darien! Please! You have to remember!” The human who was surely having the worst nightmare in his life, pleaded.

“Oooooh yeah! Silly me was gonna guess Dick next, but I think I was getting distracted with having this big hunk around. It’s been a while since you volunteered.” Joey winked and coyly pawed at Gozoma- no, the demon- as he swayed his hips to the side which made his chest and belly shift in a way that Darien felt obscene was too tame of a word to use to describe it. The demon gave a low chuckle of amusement.

“Nice try cutie, but I can tell you’re too close to your quota already,” Gozomaal playfully flicked Joey’s reddish-orange ear tag, who pouted in disappointment. “and nowhere near due. Besides, I’m at work, bringing this newcomer here to BB Intake.”

“Oh, you’re new!” Joey lit up in excitement again, disappointment quickly forgotten. “And we’re going to be in the same sector! Since I knew you from before, I can show you the ropes, where they hide the good snacks, which of the handlers give the best d-“

“But-but I don’t want to know the ropes! I don’t want to be here! I don’t belong here! A-and neither do you! You were a man of the faith! Where is your devotion? Where is your faith? Where is your cross?” Darien burst out in an angry desperate plea, no longer sure who he was trying to convince that he did not belong burning in the pits of Hell for all eternity. Joey blinked, his expression simultaneously blank and startled at the same time.

“My what?” His face contorted in pure confusion for only a moment, but for Darien’s hopes and fears felt like an eternity, before coming to a realization. “Oh, that old thing? I can’t remember why I decided to keep it around, I honestly forget it’s there!” Joey began to search and pat down his rounded form as if searching for some lost keys, at last spotting what he was looking for around his side and turning as if to display it. Darien felt tears of dawning horror, realization, and oddly enough, acceptance begin to pool in the corner of his eyes. He had somehow missed tucked under the mesh DILF crop top, the silver chain wrapping from behind his neck, around his right breast, one side of the chain completely disappearing where his belly pressed up against it, leading down to an old silver cross dangling over to his side.

“Sometimes it gives me a really nice, like, hot sensation though, like a burn? But in a good way, like a really good way, like in a really really really good way.” Joey winked and giggled. Though Darien hated to make himself look, sure enough there were faint red marks, roughly shaped like his cross, spotted along the side of his swollen belly and even on the underside of his… ‘boob.’

“But…But we don’t belong here…” Darien said quietly, somehow feeling more defeated and smaller than he had before they had come across Pastor Jos-Joey.

“It’s not so bad! I remember being scared too when I first got here, but everyone was so nice about helping me get settled in!” Where before he had tried to look away and ignore it happening, Darien found himself staring as Joey rubbing a soothing circle over a bump that had appeared right under his navel, his other hand still low on his ripened belly for support in holding his grotesque unholy passengers.

“Actually, the biggest change I had to get used to were the horns!” Joey cheerily proclaimed gestured to the not just one, but two sets of deep red horns growing out of his forehead, pushing back his still golden blonde hair. “The only punishment around here is that they never let you go past quota.” Joey put on an exaggerated pout and batted his eyelashes at the large demon Darien had almost forgot was standing there. He numbly nodded in shock, not sure of how else to respond.

“Alright, I think it’s time we get you to BB Intake, so you two can hang out together again soon, okay?” Gozomaal gently put a hand on Darien’s back and started to guide him the way they had been going. Above his head they winked at Joey “And I’ll try to volunteer again soon, but you know quota exceptions are out of my control. Nice shirt by the way!”

“Thanks, Trazron got it for me! And bye-bye Dari! We’ll have to hang out once you’re done with Orientation!” Joey cheerfully waved and contentedly waddled back to the group he had previously been talking to, most of whom were sporting bellies almost as rotund and full as his. There were even a few whose bellies were somehow even larger, a feat Darien had a hard time believing was possible.

Darien remained in shock until they reached their destination. Which didn’t actually take long at all, it was a much shorter distance than he might have hoped. Maybe if the rest of the journey had been a bit longer, he would have broken out of his reverie long enough to ask the demon, Gozomaal, some questions. For example, what did he mean by quota? What were those… creatures growing inside of Joey? What did they mean by ‘Intake’ and ‘Orientation?’ What were the earring tags about? What did BB stand for? In fact, no one had told him yet what his eternal punishment was going to be. Was this it? To see a devout holy man he’d looked up to and admired so debased and made up to be some slutty bimbo?

When they arrived at the building that was to be their destination, his mind begin to rapidly flip between glad and mad that he hadn’t thought to ask anything. And, as the deepest despair he’d ever felt in his existence overwhelmed all of his senses and sank deep into his bones, he read the sign painted over the door:

69TH UNHOLY ETERNAL BREEDING BITCH INTAKE and ACCLIMATION CENTER

[violetren]

Just watched Superheroes and Huntsmen Part One and as a RWBY fan and someone who likes DC heroes in general, I had a great time.

I really loved how they used the fact that everyone knew it was a crossover to their advantage to create a kinda slow boil effect around RWBY details not being quite right. Like a lot of it isn't even subtle (Yang having her prosthetic but being in Volume 1 gear, Grimm glitching immediately, the absence of Blake and Weiss in a pre-fall setting and so on) and yet you're so caught up in the action and in Clark's frantic confusion and the fact that it's a weird ass multiversal cross over that you just sorta rationalise it.

"Of course things are unnatural and weird Clark literally just said that he wasn't supposed to be here and his presence probably fucked up reality somehow. I wonder what time and space shenanigans the JL were involved in to digitise Grimm."

But the weird keeps piling on and by the time you're watching Jaques Schnee be little more than aggrieved and dismissive of Weiss yelling at him at a party, or "volume 1" Weiss having the confidence to do so without fear of retribution you're like "Oh shit is fucked up fucked up, we aren't in Atlas as sure as Clark ain't in Kansas."

From there it's what I can only really call lowstakes Remnant/classic superhero fair. Lots of cool combat, fun, quippy super dialogue, just a touch of personal pain and struggle but hardly enough to register for someone who just finished RWBY volume 9. It was fun.

There were some tiny characterisation things with the RWBY cast that all fell easily within the scope of the fact that they were actively force-fed a false reality and so didn't really strain at suspension of disbelief.

And then there was the DC cast.

I went in expecting to leave wondering why they didn't just use one of their several canon groups of teen heroes, which seems to be a common complaint. After watching it I'm not wondering and I don't think they made some egregious error in judgement using the Justice League.

I might revise my opinion by a great deal if in the next movie the Justice League are still teenagers but honestly I'm curious as hell to see the Huntsmen interact with grown versions of the heroes who haven't had all their insecurities pulled to the forefront, and seeing the Justice League react to the fact that the Huntsmen, while clearly more experienced and steady in their proper ages, are still barely more than children.

I know Doyalist logic for choosing the Justice League probably heavily relates to cold hard cash and someone upstairs incorrectly assuming that it wouldn't be as much of a draw without the Trinity and their current league headliners, and while it's sorta disappointing it's not surprising in the least. I'm choosing to be glad the writers landed on such a cool way to work with the restrictions on rights uses that they were given.

From a Watsonian perspective the idea of forcing them all back to a time where they weren't as good as emotional regulation but keeping them stacked with their big adult emotions to be dealt with in that compromised state while in a facsimile of a world where too much negative emotion makes you bait for murderous monsters is about as solid as most super-villain plans get. It's a plan that would have been even more fucked up and fatal in enacted against teens and turning them to kidlets which circles back into a Doyalist POV in that Of Fucking Course they couldn't have team RWBY fighting alongside prepubescent superheroes. Kids looking after tots is a story for in universe, in fandom, or at least for much more strongly connected multiverses. Sure they could have picked a different plot, but at that point they knew they weren't gonna be able to use teen titans and why not use a cool idea if you have it?

In comparison to my love of RWBY I'm a much more casual comics fan and so while I recognised all the characters in play for half of them I only had broad strokes type knowledge of them learned from fandom and advertising of some of their more popular runs.

To that end the characters I got felt like they hit the broad strokes a casual fan might know and then put them through the same funhouse mirror that teams RWBY and JNR went through being forced into a fake world where nothing was familiar and yet seemed unavoidably real AND needing to readjust to being teens and all the fucked up brain chemistry that comes with that All Over Again. For RWBY and JNR the effect was a little less pronounced due to teenagedom really not being that long ago (and still a reality for Ruby), but of course it showed more obviously in the Justice League members making choices and saying shit their adult counterparts straight up just wouldn't say or do. That was flat out stated in text as the whole point of making them teens again!

I do sorta get why die hard fans of specific characters might feel that those characters weren't done justice but like, that's comics babes. Why would you expect them to do better in an outside of continuity crossover with an anime? Like it's hard enough in any medium to get good properly explored characterisation after a cast has more than like 2 people in their own world nevermind in a massive ensemble multiversal crossover.

As I said before I reserve judgement on hating teeny bopper justice league until I see what state they're in for Part 2. As a stand alone though I think they did fine but that is heavily influenced by the fact that at the end of the day I care more about RWBY than any of the dc characters they included and I was probably quite lucky in that respect.

If I were to register a complaint it would probably be the Weiss and Bruce of it all but it was actually really really easy to just step back and ignore any weak romantic subplot vibes when ultimately it was obvious they were never going to build to anything and when you paused to look at it through the lens of Two Smart Lonely Uber-Rich Kids Who Forged Themselves Into Weapons To Fight For Justice Having Empathy For One Another.

Also it gave us "scientifically minded and highly computer literate Weiss" in what was at least an official story even if it wasn't mainline canon continuity and I love that for her.

[angry-geese]

For Myself

Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.

obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work

Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick

Word Count: 2.4k

He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.

Worst of all, it insults you.

An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.

The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.

He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.

And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.

She begs for her life.

Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.

It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.

You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.

She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.

Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.

Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.

He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.

Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.

You're just as much his, as he is yours.

Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.

He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.

Something is wrong.

He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.

Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.

Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.

He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.

You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.

His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.

None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.

He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.

His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.

"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."

You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.

"You made the right call." He says. You always do.

He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.

A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.

The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.

One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.

Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.

When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.

He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.

The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.

Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.

He follows you, silent.

He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.

He doesn't join you in bed.

He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.

You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.

You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.

You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.

One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.

"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.

You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.

“What's the matter, pet?”

“I don't feel too good.” You say.

Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.

“I’ll get Uraume-”

“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”

He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.

He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.

He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.

His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.

When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.

[cow-stealin-gal]

oh shoot! I should clarify a few things.

*ahem*

I’ve had moments where I’ve given up the process of drawing from making egregious errors and not having the motivation to finish it. Including music.

I still haven’t made progress of a remix that a friend wanted me to make about two or so years ago.

I haven’t finished drawing a family picture from before 2020.

I haven’t even worked on a comic based on my best roleplay experience with a friend who still hasn’t returned. (To the best of my knowledge).

The plans that I eventually discarded gnaw at my consciousness at times and it never gets easier.

At the time that I finished this animation, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off of my chest. Like I’ve actually accomplished something.

AN ACTUAL CLEAR SPRITE ANIMATION OF A SPEAR WIELDER!!

@agentleem @the-trash-eating-llama

@serious-tabaxi @decoysender

@ladyofspoons @skyethequeerwolfwizard

I DID IIIITTTT

Canvas size: 80 x 80 pixels. Frame Rate: 6 fps Number of frames: 4 Made on Piskel.

[hockey-fics]

2 from the kissing prompt list and 5 from the smutty prompt list with Crosby or Tito please!

This is 2 from the kissing prompt list with Crosby. I’ll add 5 with Tito to my list!

Prompt: Kiss in the middle of a fight

A/N: never used someone else’s gif before but huge thank you to the person who made that one, I know how much effort goes into making gifs 

Warnings: argument (obviously), language, and an age gap. 

Four years. 

Four years since your first date. 

When he took you for dinner at a restaurant that was way out of your budget and your comfort zone. Because you were barely 20, a college student living in a rundown apartment with bars on the window and three locks on the front door. And he was almost 30, making more money than you could even wrap your head around, living in an apartment on the side of town you only fantasized about living in. 

But as soon as you were with him that night all your worries subsided. And when you saw the drink menu, hesitating at the prices, Sidney made a casual comment to order whatever you wanted. And when you excused yourself to the bathroom towards the end of the night Sidney paid for the bill while you were gone, not even giving you the chance to have to worry about splitting it. He drove you home that night and parked his car, walking you to your door and waiting till you were securely in your apartment before leaving. 

You never would have admitted it then but you fell in love with him that night. 

But it wasn’t always easy. Because he was almost a full ten years older than you. You were at different points in your life. For the most part it wasn’t an issue, you were mature for your age and he was accepting of the fact that occasionally you did just want to go out and party with your friends. But there were comments, from your family, from his family, from your friends, hell, even the media seemed to have an opinion on your relationship. You saw the tweets, the Instagram comments. You tried your best to pretend you didn’t, but even though he tried to avoid it as much as he could he was in the spotlight and it was inevitable. 

You moved in together three years after you got together, you settled in with him easily. And in the beginning you thought maybe the flood of happiness you felt waking up every morning in a bed that the two of you shared would fade, but it didn’t. You figured at some point cooking dinner together in your kitchen would become routine, but every time he wrapped his arms around your waist while you were preparing dinner or he would step between your legs while you sat on the counter placing his large hands on your thighs, you were just as overcome with joy as the very first time. 

Your whole life you never believed in soulmates. People just found someone they clicked with and made it work. But when you met Sid all those thoughts changed. Because you never met anyone who made you feel the way he did, not a single friend or ex could compete with the overwhelming happiness and comfort that Sid brought you. 

When your family was having a reunion there wasn’t any hesitation in your mind over Sidney coming. Sure, you weren’t married, he wasn’t technically a part of the family. But it really only felt like a formality at this point, that piece of paper. 

So you and Sid packed a suitcase for the three nights you were going to be away, giddy with excitement at getting to introduce Sid to your entire family. He had met your close family on so many occasions, but it was the distant relatives, cousins you yourself had only met a few times, that could get to meet him now. 

Of course Sid splurged, getting a suite in one of the nicest hotels in the area. You told him it wasn’t necessary, that the two of you would be busy, wouldn’t be there that often anyway. But he insisted. 

The second night you two got ready for an afternoon barbecue with your entire family. Your aunt and uncle had rented space at a local country club, a large outdoor gazebo, lawn space for the younger kids to play on. It was all gearing up to be a great afternoon. 

“What if I can’t remember someone’s name? Should we have a codeword or something?” Sid asks, voice hushed and panicked as you walk along beside him, hand in hand towards where your parents had told you to meet everyone. 

Coming to a stop you tug him to face you. “Stop worrying. This is supposed to be fun. Everyone is going to love you.”

And perhaps you shouldn’t have been so confident, an egregious error in assuming you knew your distant family well enough to make that statement. Because by the time dinner is over and a few drinks have been poured the conversations seemed to be taking a turn you weren’t expecting. 

“So, Sid,” your uncle Max says, drawing the attention of you and Sid along with the rest of the group that was sitting around one of the large outdoor tables. “How old are you again?”

Sid clears his throat and you reach over, grasping for his hand beneath the table. “Thirty-three,” he tells him with a nervous formality of being interrogated by the police. 

“And Y/N, darling, correct me if I’m wrong but you’re twenty-two?” You Aunt chimes in. 

“Twenty-three,” you correct, with a force smile. “Almost twenty-four,” you add quickly, immediately regretting it, cringing internally at the childish way it had come across, trying to prove yourself to be older. 

“Sid, you’ve never had any kids? No ex-wives?” Max asks, prodding questions he had no right to be asking when he had barely even asked about the mundane facts of Sid’s life. 

“No,” Sid replies, a defensive edge to his tone. 

“Hm,” Max hums, picking up his drink and taking a rather large swig. “Didn’t want any…or?”

“I…uh,” Sid stammers, rarely at a loss for words but now unable to form a simple sentence. 

“We’re thinking about it,” you suddenly chime in. You feel Sid’s eyes on you, wide and confused. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t talked about it before. In fact, you had talked about it on a number of occasions. Early on in the relationship it came up as a general question ‘do you want kids?’. As things got more serious is became more clear that when you two were picturing having kids it was together. Discussing how you wanted to raise your kids, how many you wanted. And you had been thinking about it, just hadn’t brought it up to Sid that you were starting to think maybe you were getting close to being ready. 

“Oh, hunny, you’re so young and he-,” you aunt begins, trailing off as she glances over at Sid. 

You can feel your emotions building, rage coursing through your veins. “Like I said, we’re thinking about it. I know it’s a big decision.” With that you shut down the conversation, pushing your chair back and watching Sid follow suit, walking with you away from the table. Neither of you say anything till you get back to the car you were renting for the weekend, needing to get away from it all for a few minutes. Hot, angry tears filling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry.”

You stare up at Sid, blinking away your tears as you try to put together what he was talking about. “You’re sorry? Sorry for what? That’s my asshole family, I’m the one who needs to be apologizing to you.”

“But this wouldn’t be happening with another guy,” Sid says, holding both your hands in his. “You shouldn’t need to be standing up for me like that. They’re also your family and I can’t put you in the position of needing to be at odds with them for a relationship.”

“What are you saying?” You ask, shaking your head as you pull your hands back from his, using one to wipe away a few tears before crossing them over your chest. 

“I don’t know,” Sid admits, looking around as he takes a deep breath. “Maybe we…you and I-.”

“No,” you interject, shaking your head. “If you think my family’s opinions are going to change how I feel about you, about us, then you’re a fucking idiot, Sidney. I love you…so much. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you make me happier than anyone has ever made me, I’m the best version of myself when I’m with you and I’m never going to let that go because someone thinks you’re a few years too old for me or whatever other bullshit people will criticize us about. And I really thought you felt as sure about this as I do, so-.”

Suddenly Sid is stepping closer, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and tender and filled with a thousand words he hadn’t spoken out loud. Your arms fall from across your chest to around his shoulders, letting him pull you closer. “Marry me,” he whispers against your lips. 

You’re silent for a second, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “What?” 

“Marry me,” he repeats. “I have the ring already, I’ve been thinking about asking you for months but it never felt like the perfect moment and this sure as hell isn’t the perfect moment either but I can’t wait any longer. Because I do feel as sure about this as you do and you need to know that now.”

You have tears in your eyes again as you stare up at Sid, only able to nod in response for a minute. “Of course I want to marry you,” you finally whisper, your arms wrapped tight around him. 

[canichangemyblogname]

I've had something brewing in my head and I'd like your opinion.

I want to preface this by saying I think (among the belligerent and numerous issues with The Bad Batch) that Echo's character has been poorly handled, to put it in a gross understatement and my question isn't being asked as a defense for any of the creative decisions Disney has made. I'm asking objectively.

I have a cousin who had a lazy eye as a baby. Not to go into detail, but after an exhaustive diagnostic process, it was finally discovered when she was around 5 that she needed surgery to correct the medical problem. She had been in and out of doctor's offices, specialists, tests, scans, blood draws, etc., etc., etc for her entire life. The medical problem was successfully corrected, but she was left with a cosmetic issue: a lazy eye and heavily drooped eyelid. Her parents made it clear, as she entered adolescence that if she wanted cosmetic surgery, they would happily pay for it if that's what she wanted.

She didn't. She made the decision that "this is who I am, this is my face, there's nothing 'wrong' that needs to be 'fixed'".

Taking the lense of her childhood experiences with doctor's poking and proding and looking at Echo his having a scomp arm vs a prosthetic hand (as Anaking and Luke do), do you think it's possible (as a character/person) he could have made a similar decision as my cousin? That he'd had enough of procedures, poking, proding, and taking and felt "this is my arm, it doesn't need 'fixing'"? I know this a fictional character and I'm not trying to build a head canon around this to justify the character deaign.

I don't for a minute believe any of this was part of the creative thought process, because when know that The House of Mouse doesn't think that deep, so please don't interpret this question that way. I'm not defending TBB many errors, but trying to think in the character's head.

I could be completely painting the situation with my own observations, which is why I'd like your objective opinion. Or does it even matter with the cumulative, egregious problems with the show as a whole?

Anon-- I think this would be a really cool head canon, but I don't think Disney has actually put as much thought into it as you, I and other fans have.

I will say this:

Echo knew, the moment Rex lifted him out of that stasis chamber on Skako Minor, that things were never going to go back to the way they were. He knew this despite trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

When Rex makes a suggestion about the "good ol'times," we see the sorrow on Echo's face. That Echo is long gone and 'dead.' Eventually Rex comes to understand this and lets him go to find his own place and make his own way.

But... if I'm not mistaken, Echo had the scomp already on Skako Minor. It was a Techno Union 'addition.' I don't really think he had much choice on being given a replacement hand (like Anakin or Luke) in the first place.

I'm sure he was none to fond of being poked and prodded and altered after being held captive on Skako Minor, either. We see that he does not enjoy being put under medical or droid examination in TBB. This can factor into his decision to just keep the scomp.

(But most of this is conjecture seen as we never actually get inside Echo's head)

That doesn't mean that he doesn't then choose to keep the scomp later. We start to see him study it and poke around with using it as he gets used to it. He might come to find that it comes in handy on missions later on. Maybe he comes to find that it represents the "New Echo™️."

The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch frequently parallel Clones and Droids to highlight how human the Clones are and to reveal how, despite their humanity, they were treated no different from machines of war.

Robotics, which we don't consider biologically human, contrasts with flesh. I feel this serves to highlight his humanity and how his whole will always be metaphysically a person. He is not two separate entities: robot and human (as Tech suggested). He is one man--a person.

I said in my essay Machines or Slaves: Moral Questions Regarding the Clones in Disney’s Star Wars the following about this:

[Clones] were treated simply as genetic material sold to create weapons of war. They were owned as property by the Army of the Grand Republic, not unlike any other weapon of war. This parallel also helps drive home the idea that the Clones had no free-will. The parallel additionally makes an interesting commentary on the nature of military indoctrination and how said conditioning within the military machine impacts the human body and mind, making soldiers war machines.

I also said the following about Echo in that essay:

...despite losing much of his body to the war, Echo spends little of the Bad Batch being a machine of war. Echo represents Cut’s idea that Clones can have choices and that they can forge their own path...

Echo represents our association of choice with free will and personhood as well as the physical and psychological toll war can have on survivors.

He gets to find life outside of war and being owned by the GAR. He survives the explosion and the war and gets to forge his own path afterwards and be his own person. He gets to embrace the individuality that Clones have always striven for.

Does this mean that TBB should write off Echo's traumas and the concerns and anxieties that stem from these traumas? No. Does that mean they should continue to comment on just what "percentage" of his body they consider to be a person? Especially when he seems not to like said comments about his body? Also no. Doing those things just comes across as ableism (as does the way they disparage their brothers who have fallen under the control of the chip).

I think it would be awesome if he comes to love his body. I'd love to see a little bit of actual radical body acceptance, because all bodies and all body types are real and legitimate. It'd be cool to see a plot about how he comes to embrace and become content with his own body, "This is me and I don't need fixing." However... would Disney do this? No.

[yeonchi]

The Sea Princesses Iceberg Part 2: Adventures in horny jail

Well, some real developments have happened since I posted the first part of the Sea Princesses Iceberg. Aside from posting the wallpapers, releasing the Brazilian Portuguese dub and stating my intentions to refresh my translations and reviews, two YouTubers I mentioned in the first part reciprocated my mention, namely MJZD Gaming and Liamasterink, the latter of whom made the iceberg video that inspired said post and also got me wanting to give my own take on it. Now I have no reason to delay writing the second part any longer. By the way, I’ve also seen myself being mentioned in their comment sections, so thanks for the shoutouts and acknowledgments.

Without any further ado, here is the video:

Before I go on, I want to talk a little bit about how production of the video has changed since the first part. Liam now represents himself with a picture of his channel logo on Hugo’s head and the video also adds two text-to-speech narrators (as if he wasn’t using one already) to represent Marli and Marcello. This comes after he did a similar thing in a video representing a kind of “rap battle” between Marli and Delfi (after a 7-minute prelude, no less). At least the auto-transcription is working on the second part so it’s not killing me this time.

Here is Liam’s second iceberg. He’s kind of improved a bit from the first one even though that’s not how iceberg memes are done, but the errors aren’t egregious:

As always, this is my translation:

Let’s get into it.

Tier 1

So as you can see, Liam has dropped the aspect-per-tier system from the first part, which is an improvement in and of itself. Incidentally, Liam narrates this tier to start off the video.

Fabio Yabu existing in Salacia - I mean, he’s never put a self-insert into the series like Ume Aoki did in Hidamari Sketch, but the author introduction pages at the end of the first four literacy series books and The Ballad of the Forgotten Princess does say “He likes to draw himself as an octopus with a boy on his head, but, in fact, he is an adult with a boy’s head.” Talk about literally making yourself into a crown lol.

Liam then talks about some underwater logic like how Salacians can use electronics and how Polvina’s birthday cake in The Makeover doesn’t have the candles lit given that they are underwater. I don’t have much to say on that, but this gives me an excuse to attach this video:

He also covers the school cook from The World of Salacia and Mr Chain from The Windy Letters. In regards to the latter, he mentions Mr Chain doing “unspeakable things to Tata” when he kidnapped her. This is one of the things I’m not a big fan of in this part and it contributes to the reason why this part is subtitled the way it is.

In the Spanish Wikipedia page for the series, Bia is mentioned to be 12 years old, which is obviously fake news when you look at the official sources and yet Liam found it an important topic to cover. This is why I don’t (fully) trust Wikipedia on niche things like this series. For the record, Bia is 7 years old, same age as the main girls.

Liam then poses a theory that the Drylander boy from The Boy and the Drylander baby from The Rescue are related as brothers since they have similarities in design. Involving an older version of the baby (but not necessarily having him be related to the boy) in my personal project did occur to me at one point, but I brushed it off because the baby wasn’t that important compared to the boy.

By the way, I want to go off on a tangent here to address something I’ve seen in his videos; Liam names the boy Giovanny [sic], while in my personal project, I named him Daniel Camielez. Later on, he also named “Jaune” and “Goldina” as Valeria and Alexia. Personally, I’m waiting to see what name he will give “Flourison”, but my point here is that the names for these officially unnamed characters are NOT set in stone, meaning that fans can give whatever names they want for them. The names I gave on the wiki are only there as placeholders, so if Fabio Yabu wishes to invoke the Word of God and announce their actual names and/or character descriptions, then the wiki will be updated accordingly and I’ll give a grand announcement on Facebook and Tumblr.

Liam then joins the cacophony of theories regarding the girl from The New Princess, stating that the girl may not be the Barracuda Princess, but rather a distant relative. Check out Kisekae Insights #20 for my answer to that theory.

After segueing into a segment where Marcello interjects with his dance from Ester’s Fear, Liam talks about the shark from Shark Love and calls him a “lolicon shark” due to his infatuation with Tubarina as shown in the episode. By the way, he also addressed the topic of Tubarina’s spare crown, which was a missed opportunity for us to see what her hair looked like, but whatever.

Finally, Liam poses a theory that Hugo and Tata will get married because their character descriptions state that they are the heirs of the Turtle Kingdom. Either nobody knows how royal succession works or we’re just incest baiting here. I never got that kind of vibe from seeing them, though given how Hugo never interacts with turtles, or even his twin sister, in the series, I’m inclined to believe that Tata is the older sibling and thus the heir apparent.

I know that Hugo and Tata barely have any interaction with each other throughout the series (and any shots of them together are just as rare), but I recently noticed this one shot in Lunch Power where Hugo has his arm on Tata’s head (and I can’t believe it took me a week to realise that I forgot to replace the placeholder text I had for this before publishing this post):

Tier 2

Oh boy, here we go. This tier is the main reason why this part is subtitled the way it is. Marcello and Liam take turns being the narrator in this tier and spoiler alert, everyone involved in this needs to go to horny jail, like immediately.

This tier starts off with a sequence of dialogue-laden screenshots featuring Leia with bedroom eyes. Translating this would go against everything I stand for regarding this series, so instead, I want to talk about a little observation regarding Liam’s Sea Princesses content.

At the time of writing, Liam has almost drawn every Sea Princesses character at least once and I can say that because he even drew Marcela, Jaune, Goldina, Matilda, Caramelo and the Drylander boy. However, I won’t say that he equals or surpasses Rainbow’s Network because he does more group drawings than character portraits. While Liam can be rather imaginative in his content, whether it be in regards to his shippings, costumes or OCs, there are some drawings that are a bit too suggestive or questionable to my liking, particularly given that the characters in this series are children. I would have less of an issue with it if the characters were aged up, but then the art style becomes an issue because in my opinion, you can’t just put adult parts on children and call it “aging them up”. I dunno, maybe my expectations on art are different to everyone else’s, but that’s just my opinion. Look at the top banner on Kisekae Insights #13 and you’ll see some examples of good age-up art.

After that problematic segment, we briefly switch back to Liam as he poses a theory about whether Marcello and Elektra could be dating given their interaction in The Return. Marcello cuts in and denies this, insisting that they are just friends, then it goes just as well as you expect a denial to go. I support the Marcello/Elektra ship by the way even though we never see them interact with each other after that episode.

With Elektra already covered in regards to love interests or shipping possibilities, the question of Socita remains. So Liam suggests that something else happened during Marcello’s piano lessons with Socita in The Piano Lesson given how he had four lessons in a week and the way he expresses to Tubarina how he “likes” Socita. I say he’s reading into it a bit too much to get that observation. Yet again, Marcello is never seen interacting with Socita again because we know how this series treats character focuses, interactions and development.

Marcello then gives some dirty interpretations regarding Miss Marla and the Whale Queen, which is already strange enough if it weren’t for the “Leia is horny” segment. After a segment briefly covering Isa and her fantasies (which she barely has any), footage from the start of The Party is used for a comedic scene between Marli and Marcello about pink being their favourite colour (which Marcello denies).

According to Polvina the Teacher, Angelica is theorised to have ADHD due to her inability to pay attention and I would have to agree with Marcello’s observation here. However, as I stated in my review of the animated series, Angelica’s apparent ADHD doesn’t quite fit with her character description; Elektra or any of the background characters could have easily taken her place in the episode.

Tier 3

Marli takes over as the narrator in this tier.

Marli theorises that the Starfish King is Doctor Eggman, which is too much of a stretch in itself, before theorising that Caton/Saulo/Carlos from The Crush is related to the Salmon Queen and Salmon Princess from The Doll, therefore the Salmon Princess is Caton’s little sister. This is very plausible. I’ve theorised that Caton could be the Salmon Prince given his design, but maybe he lives in the Farlands due to his duties or maybe the Salmon Palace is in the Farlands as it is never explicitly stated. As a side note, I named the Salmon Princess Saula in Soulbound Series 4 (see the link to Kisekae Insights #20).

After talking about the differences in Maurico’s name in the Brazilian Portuguese and Latin American Spanish dubs, Marli then theorises that Polvina and the Drylander boy could be dating and I obviously agree with that. I developed that relationship in my personal project after eight years of having Salacians fight Drylanders. Check out Kisekae Insights #13 for that.

Marli goes on to talk about how Agostinha appears Asian given that her character designs show her with her eyes closed; I’ve said as such in my review of the sticker albums. She does appear in the animated series with her eyes open, though any detailed and unobscured shots of her are blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments because she’s a background character.

The next two topics are related to people who are more well-known in Latin America. Marli theorises that Marcello faking an injury in The Silence was a prediction for YouTuber Yao Cabrera faking a drug stabbing as a social experiment in 2016 (that was when the concept of social experiment videos were a meme that criticised the YouTube culture back then) and that the Drylander boy resembles singer Galante “El Emperador” (The Emperor). These couldn’t have been any more of a stretch if they tried, though I did say that The Gift predicted the RiceGum Content Cop with the ghostwriter situation, so I guess I’m one to talk here.

Tier 4

Returning as the narrator for this tier, Liam poses a question about what would have happened to Gummy if the lolicon shark got him. He then theorises that Marli and Leia could be dating given how to clung onto each other in Rumours and their interactions in The Race and The Dingleberry Mystery. This is another stretch because they have very little meaningful interaction with each other. On that note, it would have been nice to have more scenes of characters interacting with other characters and not just Polvina, Ester and Tubarina.

Liam then theorises that Hugo and Tata are related to Ester of their brown hair compared to their parents’ red hair. I haven’t said this until now, but that’s not how you make theories. A theory needs to be plausible in order for it to make sense, and this theory is barely even plausible. Speaking of which, I decided to check Tata’s character design in the books and animated series; while the back of Tata’s head is covered by the shell of her helmet-like crown in the books, she is shown to have light brown hair in the animated series as her crown doesn’t cover the back of her head. I don’t think I need to put any examples here; Tata is a regular character in the series with multiple focus episodes, so you can easily find a shot of her and compare the designs.

He then goes on to talk about Naimo’s interaction with the Drylander baby and how they somehow managed to understand each other. Either it’s the innocence coming out of the mouths of babes or the Salacian language isn’t so much different to any of the languages of Dryland.

Liam repeats a point from the first part about the prospect of a third season of Sea Princesses. Face it, it’s not going to happen, so don’t get your hopes up.

Finally, Liam talks about how Marli and Marcello are his favourite characters (what happened to Delfi lol). Honestly, I think this is only the case because of how much prominence is given to those two characters; he’d probably have a different answer if other characters were featured more. Also, is it just a coincidence or do I just find it weird that Liam’s favourite characters happen to be the biggest dick and the biggest bitch in the series (aside from Ester and Tubarina)?

So yeah, here’s my verdict for this second iceberg:

That’s it for my reaction to Liam’s second video on the Sea Princesses Iceberg. I don’t know if I’ll make another Sea Princesses post before I work on the refresh, but I look forward to seeing what the renaissance continues to offer, even if it leans a bit on the suggestive side.