Does anyone else not like the way Damian is drawn in the new Batman and Robin comic ????
Like, after his solo Robin series, I just cannot look at him like that. He looks almost exactly like Jon.
Where is his tan skin ??? His green eyes ??? HIS HOOKED NOSE ???? They took away everything that made his design cool and interesting and new and pretty and also just like a huge part of his ethnicity.
It just bothers me so much like I want to read the comic bc it does seem pretty interesting but Damian’s design is making it soooooo hard. It extra sucks bc the art style is amazing. I actually love the way Bruce is drawn and also White Rabbit is super cool. Damian is just throwing me off so hard like that’s literally not him that’s Tim or Jon or Dick but that isn’t Damian Wayne/AL GHUL like tf look at this
He’s pretty yah, whatever, now look at this:
THESE ARE NOT EVEN THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE ???? It’s not even a difference in art style bc there was plenty of variations in art style in the Robin series but he still had his main features I mentioned earlier.
Idk call me a nitpicker or smth but this bothers me so much if it doesn’t change at some point I don’t think I will be able to read the new Batman and Robin series.
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ngl the "im white so i dont talk abt any characters' race ever bc im afraid of accidentally saying something racist" approach to fandom is like. very weak. imo.
like first of all: i get that "i dont incorporate race into my media analysis because i'm afraid of messing up" comes from a different place than "i don't incorporate race into my media analysis because I Don't See Race 😊 there is only The Human Race." but it has the same functional effect, right? that effect being that your analysis of [INSERT MEDIA HERE] ignores the very real way that race impacts people.
second of all: it feels kinda lazy! like ur saying "i dont know enough abt race to feel comfortable commenting on how race affects this show and i dont care enough to learn." the only way to become more comfortable discussing race is to actually practice discussing race. but when i see people saying this it feels like they're saying "i'm white, which means i don't know how to talk about race, and i don't have to know how to talk about race, and i don't ever have to know how to talk about race, so i'm choosing to never learn how to talk about race."
third of all: just because you don't openly talk about race doesn't mean you're any less likely to accidentally say or do something racist. implicit biases run deep, y'all. it's probably already there in your interpretation of the show. but the "i don't want to accidentally say something racist" implies that you are positive that your interpretation of the show isn't racist. and i'm not saying you're wrong. but i'm saying that if a person of color tells you that something you said about [INSERT MEDIA HERE] was racist, you better be prepared to actually listen and not just brush them off because "i can't be racist! i purposefully never talk about race just to make sure i'm not racist!"
which brings me to my final point: if you do accidentally say something racist... literally just apologize. if someone says you've been doing something racist, apologize and stop doing that thing. it's literally not that hard. i've done it. i've seen other people do it. "i'm scared of being called racist!" is such a weak excuse im tired of it. getting called racist is not the end of the fucking world. calm the fuck down and grow a spine. jesus.
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stacey’s dong has got it going on
it’s all I want and I’ve waited for so long
stacey unzip your jeans
I just gotta see that ween
I know it’s not that long but
I’m in love with stacey’s dong
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Miles doesn’t hate his tails.
No matter how much the people in his town told him to.
Even if every time he tries to play close by the village he gets chased and practically hunted down because some scary adults want to “hang out his tails on the wall”.
Even if the mothers pry their children away from him so they won’t “get cursed by the mutant”.
Even if his first memory is running from some big kids who chased him away from a store for eating some scraps from the garbage while yelling “Two tailed freaks don’t even deserve trash!”
The only apparent difference between him and the people who hate him being the number of tails, or rather, the not singularity of his.
It seemed like the reason why they all despised him was because of them, an abnormality, was the kindest way they called them.
They kept saying his tails were bad. But it didn’t made any sense. His tails weren’t bad. They kept him warm on the coldest nights, shelter him from the rain, and protect him from the town’s kid’s fists.
They were his only company and comfort, his blanket and pillow, and they were the only thing he had. He couldn’t hate them.
It didn’t matter if they were the apparent reason for his loneliness and the town’s rejection, Miles knew that even if he could cut one of them the townsfolk still wouldn’t want him.
His tails were big enough to cover him almost completely, protecting him by curling around him and not letting go even when the fur on them was ripped, torn, or burned. He could chew on the tip of their fur when his stomach hurt too much not to try and bite something, even if the matted fur on them might hurt sometimes. He didn’t have any toys or coloring books, but he could always play with his tails whenever he felt too lonely, he would chase them and they would not go away, sometimes they moved on their own when he was playing, he didn’t know why, but whenever it happened it made him feel a little bit happier, even if it meant as potential risk of him being found by his abusers if they moved when he didn’t tell them too, it still made him happy.
He could hug his tails while sleeping, pretending someone was actually there with him, if he concentrated enough, he could pretend the fur that was keeping him warm wasn’t his own, he could imagine it was maybe a loving mom, a caring dad, or… anyone, but he could feel loved.
He didn’t hate his tails.
Everyone hated him, and that might not have a solution, but everyone also seemed to hate his tails. He knows how it feels when everybody hates you, he doesn’t want his tails to feel like everyone in the world hates them too. So even if it’s just him, even if no one else ever likes them, and even if some day he dies because someone hated them enough to do something about it, he won’t hate his tails.
He doesn’t think anyone could love his tails ever, and he doesn’t know if he is capable of loving them himself, but liking them should be enough. He hopes his tails can understand.
He hopes that at least his tails could feel a little bit of love some day.
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