i am genuinely 👌this close👌 to coming back to play barney but the workload i have to do is too much 😩✊
hi I still think it's important to make more people aware of this-
the end credit art in hawkeye?
yeah, it's so clearly meant to look like david aja's style and, despite making profit from it, disney did not pay him a cent. nor did they even bother crediting him.
from aja's twitter:
it even takes note from matt hollingsworth's minimalistic coloring style used in the comics, and, as far as I know, he's also getting nothing for it.
I'm caught between "the art in these credits is so cool!" and "disney just fucking pay comic book artists please" (these panels get it)
me 🤝 dexter
deciding to come back in The Worst Year Ever
i’ll let everyone know about the new blog once i set everything up, but i’m at school for musical practices so. deuces. ily everyone don’t be dicks and stay safe
so, uh. longer explanation.
i disappeared for a few weeks (idk how long i was out) bc Life, school, skating, musical, etc got so much that i didn’t have time for myself to rest but i’m back to do some final shit before i reboot this blog (it’s been a long time coming)
n e wayz suffice it to say, i guess everybody read sapphirescales / lily’s iconic Callouts (... i can’t find a better word im sorry) about this entire rpc and she’s right. whether or not we like it, we’re contributing to a shitty, toxic, garbage rpc that promotes and popularizes white male muses (bonus points if they’re Problematique by nature but somehow are redeemable i’m lookin @ u most marvel villain writers that claim their muses are pure cinnamon rolls who deserve nothing bad) which is even more sad considering the majority of the rpc is fem/fem-aligned. i’m gonna get back to the sexism aspect of this.
ok, i’m calling myself out and i’m calling everyone out. i know i’ve contributed to this shitty atmosphere by writing a white male muse, who is a d-list marvel villain, but a marvel villain nonetheless. i’m not going to lie my way out and try to come out clean bc let’s be real, i write a Problematique muse. but listen. personally, i never condone the bullshit borney is doing, has done, or will do in the future. he’s a garbage person, definitely NOT someone that should be looked up to, or be justified for anything he’s done. he’s bad, through and through. i know this. i’m aware of this, but not many villain rpers aren’t aware of the bullshit their muses do. TL;DR DON’T JUSTIFY YOUR MUSE’S BULLSHIT BY SOFTENING THEM AND OWN UP TO/ACCEPT ALL THE WRONG THINGS THEY DO
back to the sexism/racism issue. we, as white male muse rpers (at least @ the ppl who write white male muses), treat fem muses/poc muses/woc muses so badly, it’s just... we got so many things to unlearn. we don’t realize this, but our actions towards fem/poc/woc muses are different than other white male muses and if that doesn’t say anything idk what does. i’m a person that believes in change once the problem is visible, so. what can be done about this?
write a female muse. write with female muses/muses of color, esp woc muses. make the population and the love equal. shit like this can be fixed --- once a little self-assessment is made, once we realize the stupid shit we do, we can change our way of approach to this entire mess. it’s 2k18, let’s fix this goddamn community.
:).
First meeting ( Hawkeye 13 )
U are my favourite ❤
i never knew such a pure being could exist until now
“barney fucking barton”
“he is as “clint barton” as clint barton’s ever been.“
* whinedarksea. // ??
And his eyebrow shoots up. “Good man. I’d drink to that.”
he raises his beer bottle for a toast. “ to soup, arrows an’ alcohol. ”
* @awkeye. // truly, a mess.
“ I KNOW . ”
the finality plays SHARP , a piano key thud . barney says everything , clint says nothing ; the way it always is , their relationship flattened into a one – way road . always so stilted , and for a second he’s not sure if his brother means the broken arm or the state of things here , in this dollar value apartment with dollar value coffee .
shrugs . “ but i’m fine , honestly . i can handle it - i can take a punch . ”
forever the critic and never the actual helper, he stands like an immovable mountain in front of his brother, broken-armed but still surviving. he crosses his arms, gazing at the overall situation, mind running to find an immediate solution.
“ --- s’not just ‘bout takin’ a punch, s’about survivin’ one. ”
one sentence and he’s thirteen again, giving clint tips and tricks on how to take and not take a punch. the recipient is the same, the donor is always different, whether it be dear old dad or a random russian in the street.
“ y’got a first aid kit or some shit here ? ”
i’m gonna start doing some replies to get my groove on writing so i can finally do the essay i need to do for my turkish 101 class soooooo this will be fun
let this be the only and last time a pro figure skater/pairs skaters/ice dancers/synchro skaters do a routine to y.uri on i.ce soundtrack
why r u so angry.... why do u always look so angry...?
it’s the anger
* trashkyrie. // val.
it’s odd, she figures. this same conversation and scene plays on a different planet in another time with another person trying to be a friend or whatever it is he is, they are. these same shaking hands hold a whiskey or whatever they call their liquor and down it, too early and during times most people are using to do whatever they do to live their life. her same eyes don’t look at them, and don’t let him look her in the eye, her same shoulders hunch up, a wall. the same incessant need for company bleeds through it all, anywhere, everywhere, everytime. doesn’t matter if right now, val is on earth. doesn’t matter if she leaves and finds herself somewhere else to live. this same scene does and will happen again. it makes the whiskey bitter on her tongue more than usual.
❛ get what you want. i’m on a liquid diet. ❜
the thought of food turns her stomach in the way the liquor she finishes in her glass should. she pushes her glass up towards the bar, the barkeep understanding the gesture and filling another of the same as she closes her arms around her stomach ––– as if trying to hold herself together instead of just crossing her arms.
“ yeah, no ------ that ain’t happenin’. ”
val, or whoever she really was, is still a complete mystery for him. mystery girl, with mystery past, mystery scars and mystery regrets. but this, the scene in front of him and the situation she’s in, it’s way to familiar for him to not do anything. a sense of responsibility washes over him, because nobody should be drowning in their personal hell, made up of cheap liquor. because he’s seen that hell, because the bottom of the bottle is neverending, because the lights are dimming. he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help clint ( maybe it wasn’t his intention to ), at least let him help a mystery.
“ c’mon, we’ll at least get ya some soup, an’ you’ll be much better. ”
a nod of his head towards the glass door of the bar, signaling to just get out. he’s not touching her, not taking the bottle away from her, because force won’t do anything. if she wants help, she will, in the end, help herself.