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mumuqings · 4 months

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tgcf book spoilers, but one mu qing and xie lian snippet that I think about a lot is this one, at the start of xie lian’s second banishment when he’s surprised to hear mu qing being described as generous and kind:

as opposed to this memory from before his first ascension when mu qing started giving out cherries to the kids in the city:

I think it just really goes to show 1) how deeply mq’s actions truly affected xl and what he thought of him, but also 2) just how different mq and xl are fundamentally in the way that they think and approach things.

I don’t have a lot of commentary on xl that hasn’t already been said, but bc we get the story from xl’s pov, we see a lot of mq’s actions being framed as selfish or suspicious (which is fair, bc again, we know how much his actions hurt xl), but we also see a lot of misconstrued kindness, like in book 8 where it’s revealed that he knocked out fx in order to save him. it’s also pretty obvious how much mq still cares abt xl, with how quickly he volunteers as fu yao and the lengths he goes to protect him when he deems hc a threat, so I also think it’s very likely that mq leaving the trio first was exactly what he said it was — that he thought becoming a junior official, ascending quickly, would be the best way to take care of not just his mother, but also xl, fx, the king and queen, and himself, and so in a way, him leaving was him acting on his kindness. but ofc it doesn’t work out, and he spends the next 800 years fighting w/ fx about it, defending himself, his decisions, and his kindness, and nitpicking the accuracies of his statues while he himself remains completely misunderstood by the two people he probably cares abt the most.

and idk, I guess I just think that’s probably a really lonely way to spend 800 years.

#idk where I was going w this actually #but misunderstood mq who cares so much abt how he’s perceived is smth that I think abt a lot #really resonates w my eldest daughter scapegoat of the family trauma tbh #also to be clear I don’t think xl was in the wrong for chasing him away either #I think they were both just twenty year olds doing their best in a situation that twenty year olds shouldn’t have to face #that said I do think it’s hilarious and incredible that fq spent 800 years beating each other up instead of having one (1) conversation #anyway! I love all three of them! I’m glad they get a happy post canon!#oh also I think mq deserved more than just a ‘just so u know dianxia never thought that poorly of u! just be normal!’#i think he deserves an apology actually #tgcf #tgcf spoilers #mu qing #xie lian #feng xin #xianle trio #yams thoughts

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turtleblogatlast · 5 months

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Something I love to think about is every iteration of Leo’s relationship with Splinter and how Splinter’s interests always define how a Leo presents himself.

I used to abide by the idea that a Leo will simply emulate his Splinter directly, and to an extent I still believe that to be the case, but moreso I think Leos have a tendency to mold themselves into what they believe is their Splinter’s ideal son - someone who embodies all the traits Splinter has explicitly shown to admire or value in a person.

Most of the time, they try to be a dutiful and honorable boy abiding by the full extent of ninjitsu teachings. Then you have Rise Splinter, who very much still has undeniable prowess in the art of fighting and being a ninja, but when it comes to how he shows his interests to his boys…one thing reigns supreme.

Acting. Shows. One liners. Flamboyance in the name of gaining an audience’s attention.

He showcases Lou Jitsu movies on repeat for the boys, passing down the morals and words from those movies to them with no small amount of pride. All while fully expecting them to respect these teachings.

So, of course, Rise Leo picks up on this. He’s a Leo, after all, as much a daddy’s boy as any other variation of him, only he clocked his father’s interests to be different than most others. He picks up on the art of showmanship, of keeping things to himself so as to be a more exciting twist later, of treating the world as a set to act in.

He’s an actor, not just because Splinter himself was one, but because Splinter likes acting and showed one particular actor (unknowingly to the boys, it was himself) as the pinnacle of all his teachings. As someone to value and admire. And even more than that - Splinter focuses on the character the actor is portraying rather than just the man himself.

And I think this is all even more interesting when taking the turtle tot short into consideration, because very, very briefly, just as with many times else throughout the series, we see how easily Rise Leo aligns with his other selves, seeming to pick up the sword easier than his brothers do their own weapons - after quoting Lou Jitsu of course. After emulating his idol - the person who his father seems to admire so much.

Point being, it’s so interesting to see how Leos tend to mold themselves in one particular way throughout every variation - that being, what their father is shown to value most in people.

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #this is mostly a rottmnt post but it aligns with others as well #idk I just think it’s so interesting #because at his core rise leo is the SAME as the other Leos #they’re all goofy they’re all natural leaders they’re all quiet wanderers they’re all daddy’s boys #but these inherent traits take second to what they believe is valued more #specifically what their splinter values more #and sometimes what is valued allows them to more commonly broadcast themselves as who they actually are #but other times their core personalities directly go against what they think they NEED to be #so they stifle it #and soon enough their emulated selves become so tangled into their real selves that it’s a struggle to tell who they are without it #god I love Leo #and this is not to say that the other bros don’t do a similar thing #they just tend to be much more separate about it in terms of what they admire and who they are #whereas Leo blurs that line #don’t mind me just once again overanalyzing a fictional turtle boy #edit: AND ANOTHER THING #but Splinters value placed on Lou Jitsu ALSO helps push Leo into being someone who does things on his own #sure he loves his brothers and they’re everything to him #but he pre invasion he often does things himself or just expects to handle things on his own #y’know #like Lou Jitsu who notoriously does NOT have a team #so this Leo doesn’t care about being a leader - because who he’s emulating isn’t one #he’s like ‘okay we’re just a group of Lou Jitsus’#and there’s something so painfully childlike about this

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amethysttribble · 2 months

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Father had personally asked Feanor to stand for this portrait, so he was. Father had quietly suggested that perhaps this could be a painless exercise, which did not actually mean ‘painless’ but rather ‘silent’ for Feanor, but he agreed. Father told him this painting did not symbolize anything but his own desire to have a record of all his available loved ones around him, and Feanor was trying to see it that way- for the sake of his own sanity.

Because his stomach was roiling, and there was a heaviness in his chest, a great emptiness which his heart was pounding against, echoing, echoing, echoing.

Father had one hand on Feanor’s shoulder and the other was upon Indis’s. She was sat in front of them, smiling beautifully, little golden-haired Arafinwe in her lap. Around them, her three dark-haired children were gathered. Findis on Father’s other side, Nolofinwe with her, and Lalwen in front of Feanor.

To the unaware eye, Feanor knew, they must all look like they matched. Like they went together correctly. Like a family.

When the portrait was complete and those dark haired children were gathered around the mother and father, who would guess that one child was out of place? Who might glance at all that paint representing their faces and think anything but-

You could almost be her son, Feanor thought, and then his mind replied, But you’re not.

He was so still and he dared not move, because if he did, he’d never get back in place. If Feanor flinched once, the sharp, jagged pieces of him that never fit right in this puzzle would scratch one of them. They’d be annoyed and that would be it: he’d combust in anger, he’d shatter across the floor, snapping and snarling at everyone unnecessarily until he ruined their perfect little scene. Father said this might be a painless exercise. No, no; this was to be a silent, still exercise.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

How good a painter was this person Father hired? How varied his faces? Would he capture that Feanor’s nose resembled that of none of the people here? Could he represent that his frame was already different from his father and little half-brother’s?

Would he lie and throw a pleased smile on Feanor’s face? Not even Father had asked him to smile.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

Feanor’s presence made them fit together so symmetrically, maybe that was pleasing enough to hide the wrongness of this scene. Maybe that’s why Father made him come here today, the pretty scene. Why he asked him to suffer, even as the longer he stood here, the more and more Feanor felt like he was about to be sick all over the floor.

A ghost, a ghost, there was a ghost looming over their shoulders ruining this perfectly symmetrical scene. Couldn’t they feel her breathing down their necks, icy chill against sweat? Didn’t their perfectly posed heads feel her long, clever fingers wrapped lovingly around their necks?

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

Feanor’s gaze slipped down to the back of Indis’s head. Her beautiful golden hair. She didn’t wear a crown, this was a family portrait, and that felt worse. So much worse.

If he let his eyes unfocus and his mind wander, he could try to lie to himself that her hair was much lighter and the faces of the children around them more closely resembled his own. The woman in front of him loved him, and she fussed over his hair before they sat for this portrait, and he’d let her do it.

The worst part was Feanor did know that Indis would help him with the ties of his robes, if only he let her.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

She’s not, she’s not, she’s not. It was a simple statement of fact. It was scandal enough that the father replaced the wife, when one at least chose a wife, but what freak replaced his own mother?

What would the people who saw this portrait think? Would they see Finwe’s happy family or would they see Feanor’s blaring, uncomfortable intrusion upon what gods and men declared to be a better order of things? Father wanted him to belong here, but he didn’t.

He just didn’t.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

A painless exercise. Painless, painless, painless, for them. Silent, still Feanor, a happy accessory to the triumphant union of Finwe and Indis, a grateful stray dog permitted to drink from the bowls provided by Indis’s family.

This exercise was just meant to capture the image of all Finwe loved, nothing more. Don’t think too hard about it, Feanor. You might make the children unhappy.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

You should pretend you are, though. That’ll make them like you.

Because they did so disdain him, most of the time. They disliked how he glared at their mother and started fights at family dinners and ignored them in the hallways. Why shouldn’t they? Feanor would hate a person who did those things to his family, too.

He just couldn’t stop, though. He wanted to, sometimes, when the exhaustion and loneliness caught up, and then he remembered that he wasn’t Indis’s son and never would be, and remembering that made him angry. Wouldn’t it just be so damn convenient for them all if he was almost her son?

But he wasn’t.

He was Miriel’s son. That was her name. He had no portrait with her. He loved her.

He loved Miriel, but it was Indis he posed with and-

When the session was done, Feanor jerked away from his father and shoved his way past Lalwen. As he went, Indis looked up at him, caught his eye, and he couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face.

He hoped that was painless enough for her.

When he returned to his chamber, he went to the wash room and heaved in the pot there. The gagging and retching made wetness prick his eyes, and the sudden tightness of throat made him choke all the harder. The sickness and heaving stayed long past when there was anything in his stomach to lose.

No one came. Feanor hoped maybe Father would, but really, why would he? Feanor had been mostly good, just a little rudeness wasn’t worth either reprimand or comfort.

No, they were together. Maybe admiring their portrait, happy and pleased, or complaining about his behavior again. Really, why couldnt that Curufinwe just accept nice things?

I need to get out of here, Feanor thought, face and body wet with both sweat and tears. I need to leave this place.

He was a good son, and he could do anything else his father wanted but betray his mother any more.

Feanor couldn’t pose as Indis’s son even a second longer. He would destroy himself, if he had to think one more time-

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

#I understand what it’s like to be surrounded by people all telling you that you belong and it’s okay and just /be nice/#just play ball and settle and you can everything in the world #but you know you don’t belong #and you never will #and pretending is killing you #you won’t you can’t and you’re just so fucking sick of them pretending you can fit if you’re just /nice enough/#because they’re lying to you and themselves #just don’t be angry?? omg why are you angry? stop being angry and enjoy what we say you should want teehee #anyway I love feanor and don’t think he should have just gotten over his mothers death #tolkien #the silmarillion #feanor #tribble post #fanfic

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bluebutlikenotalways · 1 month

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Hi! Kisses on the pearl for you!

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #black pearl cookie #captain caviar cookie #blacaviar #black pearl x captain caviar #iiiiiiii feel bad posting all the cookie stuff. I love them but gosh I’m a piece of garbage #I don’t think i should IT SOUNDS STUPID TO SAY #but o got one more cookie post lined up and i’ll stop. Sound good? I’ll figure it out #Beached mermaid au

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morganbritton132 · 8 months

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I’ve played soccer most of my life and I do know there are concussion headbands some people wear to keep them safe when they head the ball since concussions are very common in soccer from headers (the only safe place to head the ball is about right on your hairline and you don’t always get it right lol). Nancy and Eddie def researched and got him one after seeing him head the ball for the first time and freaked out. Steve hates wearing it

First, thank you! I am very much Eddie and Nancy in the soccer part of the saga. I don’t play sports so big thanks to all the people that are giving information and ideas.

Second, I love the idea of Nancy and Eddie being very strict parent/understanding parent about it, but Eddie is the reasonable one and Nancy might just be fully insane.

“This is bullying.”

Steve sulks deeper into the couch, crossing his arms over his jersey in a full pout. He glares at the headband and then gives Eddie a pleading look, “I don’t want it.”

“I know, baby,” Eddie says sympathetically, “But-“

“Too bad,” Nancy cuts in. “Do you know how common concussions are in soccer? You decided to play Concussion: The Sport. Dress like it.”

“No one else is wearing one. I’ll look dumb!”

“Okay, then. Maybe we don’t stop a speeding ball with our head then,” Eddie tries. “How about that?”

“No,” Nancy answers even though the question wasn’t directed at her. “Not good enough! Wear the headband or we’ll get you a helmet.”

“Eddie!”

Eddie stalls for a second and then points to Robin, “You won’t look dumb. Robin has one too.”

“She looks dumb.”

Robin’s just like, “Hey!”

Nancy moves and sits on the coffee table in front of Steve with a look that has faced down interdimensional monsters and sexist bosses all the same. Steve’s going to wear this headband or he’s not playing and they both know it when she says, “Would you rather look stupid now and be able to remember it in five year or be drooling all over yourself when your cognitive functions starts declining after another head injury.”

“Hey, too far,” Eddie chastises, hitting her shoulder. “…But take that into consideration, Stevie. I want you to have fun but-“

“It’s going to mess up my hair!”

Nancy throws up her hands, “Then we’ll shave your head!”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie swears under his breath. “Wheeler, reel it in and take a walk. Let me talk to him. Jesus.”

#I don’t usually post on fridays but I liked this prompt so much I wanted to respond #we don’t give enough appreciation to the fact that Nancy is probably the most unhinged one of them all #also I think she’d feel a little guilty about being the cause of Steve’s first head injury #and she can be a bit intense about the ones she loves (ie Barb)#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler

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lygma-nygma · 16 days

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Thinking about writing a fic where a “post getting kicked off of robin” Tim actually gives in and says yes to Jason pressuring him to become his sidekick.

But instead of being super angsty or dark Tim decides the best way to get his “revenge” is to become a plague on Richard John Grayson’s home. Mainly, Titans Tower.

This culminates with Jason, Tim, and Steph getting a bunch of their friends together and making their own team (led by Cassie and Jason) called ‘The EVIL Teen Titans.’ They’re just like the normal titans when it comes to saving people and stuff, it’s just that sometimes they decided to attack Titans Tower for their own enrichment.

Basically they’ve become the Titans own Injustice League. Except they’re not actually trying to kill the Titans off, they just get into fights with them. In fact some members of the JL are even encouraging this. After all the regular attacks help the Titans pinpoint holes in their defences.

Dick has never been more tired.

#nygma rambles #this was definitely based on those ‘young justice would turn evil for each other in a heartbeat’ posts #because yeah they would #I think they should lock the robins in a tower and have them beat the shit out of each other more often #I don’t think dick would like it all that much but unfortunately for him I do think it would fix the rest of them #batfam #batfam au #fic idea #should I do character tags?#I’ll just do the main ones #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson

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happyheidi · 1 year

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thestobingirlie · 7 months

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stobin’s lavender wedding is beautiful and full of tears and love. (it’s a late spring wedding, erica is a bridesmaid, dustin is the best man. he and steve have matching coloured ties, and robin wears an incredible 80s puffy wedding dress). robin’s dad sobs walking her down the aisle, steve’s crying before he even gets to vows, robin starts crying during the vows, and there’s no way dustin’s getting through his speech without tears, let alone the rest of the wedding.

they give each other a little peck, their vows are heartfelt, and from that day they call each other husband and wife. because yeah, it’s not sexual, but that doesn’t matter!! they love each other. they’ve chosen to get married, not just for tax benefits, but because they want to stay at each other’s side for the rest of their lives!! they’re still dedicating their lives to one another. their love being platonic doesn’t make it any less real than anyone else’s.

#don’t get me wrong. i appreciate all lavender married stobin content. but it’s just sad that it’s consistently turned into joke #and they get divorced the second they can marry the person they “actually wanted to marry’’#they’re each others most important person! they wouldn’t get a divorce once they marry #don’t get me wrong. they’re definitely giggling at some point during the wedding. i mean. holy shit they’re married lmao #but that doesn’t mean the whole thing is just one big joke #i guess i just don’t think stobin would only get married to be the others beard. which is why i don’t see them ditching each other #the second they can #stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #my post

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oracleact · 11 months

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« nothing on me »

bayverse raph x reader / fluff + angst

notes: 1.8k words, first person pov, established relationship, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used,) details of injuries and tending to said injuries.

a knock on the window at 3am? that only means one thing: the turtles are here. smiling, I rub the remnants of sleep from my eyes and hop out of bed to open up the curtain. only one turtle faces me at the window though - raphael.

I open the window and help his wide frame step down from the ledge, but my previous smile fades fast when raph groans in pain as he steps onto the floor.

“raph, what’s wrong? where are the rest of the boys? what happened?” I speak as fast as possible to try and get to his answer, worry eating away at me with each second that passes.

my raph is the mass strength and rough hand amongst the turtles. he can handle a lot of damage since he always manages to deal out more than what is done onto him. seeing him bent over, actually using my arm for support and not simply holding me because he wants to, groaning in genuine pain rather than letting out his usual gruff noises of acknowledgment - that scares me. it terrifies me when I don’t know what has happened.

“I told them to check on dad,” he begins breathlessly, “I needed you. it’s really bad this time.”

my eyes widen and I hurry him to the side of my bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. I grasp his face in my hands to check him over, turning his head every which way, but see nothing apart from a few new scratches on his skin.

“what do you mean ‘really bad,’ raph? you’re scaring me.”

“my—“ he lifts his arm and tries to reach for the back of his shell, failing miserably and almost howling out in pain, “my shell, sweetheart. I haven’t seen it yet but I heard it crack and this pain is too much for it to just be taped up.”

I scuttle around his large form and am immediately hit with the sight of a deep crack in the middle of his shell. he was right to come straight to me with this one. he should always come to me with injuries but is too stubborn most of the time and rides out the pain: ‘it may look bad to you but it’s nothing on me.’

when the boys started to properly use their skills outside of the lair, with the risk of larger injuries increasing, I began to research and teach myself how to handle ones specific to these mutants. thanks to many in depth articles about turtle care, I have safely cleaned and covered up small cracks before. the only difference between the boys and ‘normal’ turtles in regards to care like this is their size - it takes longer and requires more focus to clean cracks, ensuring that they can heal appropriately over time. although tonight’s damage will take double that, and maybe more.

“oh raph, oh my…how? wait, don’t answer that. I’m doing my first aid stuff then we can talk about it, okay?” he nods with a sad smile and all I can do is reach out and cup his cheek, returning the expression he gave me. he moves my hand to his lips for a quick kiss before I start scurrying off to grab what I need.

let’s see - chlorohexidine solution, q-tips, cotton pads, adhesive patches and a towel. is that all I need? I have no idea right now; I’m so scared to touch him that I feel like stalling for as long as I can.

I walk slowly back to where he sits on the edge of my bed, his head resting in one hand as the other rubs at his tired eyes. I lay down all that I grabbed from the bathroom before taking a deep breath and sitting down behind him. the room is silent for a couple of minutes after that, my heart beating loudly in my ears. I can’t break my anxious stare away from the crack in his beautiful carapace.

“hey…” raph speaks ever so softly to get my attention.

“yeah— sorry. I’m sorry,” I feel tears begin to form in my eyes. I hate seeing him hurt like this. “I’m going to fix you up. I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll touch around your shell, away from the crack, and you tell me how it feels. let me know how much the pain has spread.”

he gestures ‘yes’ to me but with a frowned brow, “don’t cry, love. everything is okay. I’m raphael, remember? this is nothing on me!”

but I can see it - I can see the pain written on his face, the way his eyes look misty. I don’t want to push him to talk nor do I want to directly acknowledge the pain I can see; I don’t want to break his protective wall at a time like this. it wouldn’t be fair to do so. I wipe my tears and get straight to work instead.

my small hand reaches out for him, gently patting around the edges of his shell then smoothing over the surface, “that’s not bad at all. it just feels tingly, like the nice kind of tingly you give me.” I giggle at him. it’s a relief that the shell hasn’t shattered or anything and he can feel my hand like always.

I’ve spent so many nights tracing over the faint patterns of his plastron and committing the texture to memory. it helps calm him after a stressful training day or when he can’t sleep. it secretly calms me too because it’s just us in those moments, the rest of the world fading away and leaving only raph and I. there’s no need to jump away from my hold to save new york when my touch melts away the city completely. nothing can break us out of that warm paradise as long as we are together.

despite the touch test going well, the cleaning of his wounds will definitely be painful since the crack is open and noticeable. I pour some of the solution onto a q-tip and tell raph to start breathing slowly and deeply. I help him set a pace for it before I begin to clean.

he hisses in pain when the piece of cotton comes in contact with the wound and my tears start to flow again, “I know baby, but this part is important,” I sniffle and reach my free hand for his, “use me to balance yourself.”

“I’ll break your little hand,” there is a fracture in his voice as he speaks but he still manages to let out a chuckle with his words.

“breathe and squeeze, raph, don’t worry about me.”

and so he did - each time I dipped the cotton into the crack he inhaled and exhaled quickly whilst grasping my hand in his. I rubbed my thumb over his rough skin in an attempt to ground us both over and over again.

“one last clean and then I’ll patch it up and be done for tonight.” he lets out a loud sigh at that, obviously glad that the stinging will be over soon. I hear him lowly whimper but force a cough after in an attempt to hide the noise. once again I don’t press him on it, I just kiss the back of his hand to let him know it’s alright.

the last step is to cut adhesive patches to fit the crack, making sure to leave small gaps at the ends to allow air to flow through. this process isn’t all that different from putting a bandaid on a human arm, and thank goodness for that. I want to do everything I can to help raph, to ease his pain, so this being a somewhat ‘easy’ task to complete means luck is on my side right now.

with the last piece secure I get up from the bed to face him again, giving him a small smile to let him know it’s done. I slip myself between his legs and reach out to untie his bandana. his eyes close as he presses his head onto my chest to give me access to the tie at the back.

sliding the cloth from his face, I set it on the bed and wipe underneath his eyes; he looks so worn out. my fingers move down to draw along the scars from previous battles and to check over any new cuts, the pad of my thumb eventually landing on the most prominent scar across his upper lip. my raph, my hero, our hero…with the scars to prove it all.

“give it a week and see how the shell starts to heal. if we need to do more then I’m ready for that. I’ve done my research, you’re looking at a certified mutant turtle nurse,” I wink at him as he laughs and nuzzles further into my hold.

he looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes, the light of the moon catching in them. he may be hurt but he’s here with me and healing in my arms, and I’ll hold this man forever to show him how much he means to me. he’s looking at me in the same way - in awe of what’s in front of him - both of us dumbly grinning at each other. although, he does break eye contact when a yawn suddenly comes bursting out.

“do you want to talk about what happened, or do you want to catch some z’s first?”

“hmm…as much as I want to tell you about how much of a badass I am, I really want to crash.”

he moves to lay on his back before I catch his shoulders with high pitched squeak, “shell!” I whisper-yell at him. his lips form an ‘o’ and I shake my head. only raph could forget about his injuries that quickly.

I slip into the bed first and hold out my arms, beckoning him to follow and to lay on his stomach. he does so almost instantly, getting comfy against me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“thank you for everything. I trust you with my life, you know.”

“and I trust you with mine, big red.”

I’m seemingly stuck staring down at him, just in stupid awe once more. watching how his eyes are effortlessly closed, evident that he is exhausted, with a faint smile playing on his lips as he shifts around to find the best snoozing position. his shell is now what catches the attention of the moon and I feel satisfied with my work on the crack. I’m still worried but the patch looks good and secure from afar so I’ll take it for it now.

I’m so happy that this brave and unstoppable mutant turtle trusts me with his open wounds, with his physical and emotional scars, with his love and being. this life of ours is crazy in so many ways but I wouldn’t ask for anything to change. well, less wounds here and there would be nice but that might be asking for too much.

#my first turtles story! I don’t normally write fics I have so many ideas that just play out in my head but I’m glad I wrote this one down #I think I’ve only ever posted one other fic on this account before (a beel one) so hopefully I’ll write some more in the future #well if people like them then I’ll post more hhh I have no idea how to gauge the quality of my own writing at all #oracleact chats #tmnt #bayverse tmnt #bayverse raph #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raph imagine #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #I don’t actually know how to tag this…will this do? :<#blossom 💌 raph

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turtleblogatlast · 3 months

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Man I wish we got more of the turtle tots especially their “slightly older turtle tots” designs, because they are so cute

#rottmnt #yes I say this because I was rewatching a scene of them to tell if my deleted post was actually wrong lmao rip my dignity #tho tbh I don’t think what I said was entirely incorrect if you interpret the footage differently but I def forgot some parts rip #but tbh it would have been more of a theory to play with than fact like I’d misinterpreted/misremembered so to the trash that post goes #(ty again to the person who pointed out that I may have misunderstood lol I really do appreciate it)#anyway YEAH I love the turtle tots they’re so cute and small all of them #squishy little cheeks #the scrunklies #i am way too tired to be allowed access to the internet right now but I wanna emphasize how cute they are #their little faces…not a thought behind those eyes

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comradekatara · 1 month

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hey, so. people on twt (ugh, I need to delete that account) started to compare Zuko and Azula’s relationship to Sokka and Katara. So, I jump in like “they are not comparable in any way” then people are like “Sokka and Katara do have issues even though it’s not the same as Zuko and Azula” (even though the original tweet did imply that but, whatever). and I’m all like “sure, they both have trauma from their upbringing and they fight like siblings and that trauma probably has effected their relationship but it’s still no way like it’s being compared… they love and care for one another” and then they’re coming back like “it’s not the same but they still have issues” and citing the southern raiders (which I have my own opinions about and I feel like people totally miss read that scene) but all in all to say; I’m annoyed because I feel like people are being disingenuous and I feel like your thoughts would be interesting

okay yeah obviously I don’t know what the full arguments were (and I never will because I loathe twitter. I mean X sorry) but i can definitely talk about this more generally. I mean they are the central sibling pairs configured in a similar way for obvious reasons. they are definitely comparable.

sokka and zuko have superficial similarities as older brothers who feel undervalued, struggle to live up to a harmful patriarchal standard of gender (specifically masculinity/manhood) as shaped by imperialism/colonialism/war and the expectations their fathers placed on them to “be a real man” within a very limited framework, and ultimately find their worth via other avenues beyond the limited scope of patriarchal imperialist logic. azula and katara have superficial similarities as younger sisters who are placed on a pedestal by their culture community, are the best benders of their respective elements and outclass all the older more established (male) masters who dismiss and look down on them for being teenage girls, and who feel a deep sense of grief due to the loss of their mothers that informs everything they do and fundamentally who they are as people. and then obviously the REAL foils who are foiling are katara and zuko, and sokka and azula. these pairs are each very obvious mirrors, both in terms of their personalities (as developed differently by their respective environments) and their arcs. zuko is fire nation katara. azula is fire nation sokka. so obviously their relationships are similar in this way. they are narratively constructed as parallels.

that said, I think the key primary difference between these sets of siblings is that zuko and azula are directly opposed due to being pitted against each other by ozai’s abuse, whereas sokka and katara are extremely codependent, to the point that sokka’s entire identity is shaped by his role as katara’s brother and protector. so if you read zuko as a foil to sokka (which he certainly somewhat is, but is not the primary foil to sokka) you’ll get confused because he doesn’t live for others and he doesn’t look out for azula at all. but azula, like sokka, does define her identity through her loyalty and her ability to best serve others, so she does try to help zuko as best she can, which is obviously hindered by the incredibly limited of scope of what she considers “helpful” (much in the same way that sokka’s protection of katara is often limited by his own narrow worldview and unhealthy sense of duty as it corresponds to his identity). azula wants zuko to be a “perfect prince” in the way that she is a “perfect princess” because she refuses to acknowledge how specifically harmful that paradigm is to both of them until it is too late. so her intentions are actually good (don’t @ me), but she’s just deeply misguided and her level of cognitive dissonance is off the charts generally (again, much like sokka).

meanwhile katara and zuko, despite loving their families a lot and feeling defined by their families in many ways, are still very self-focused. which isn’t to say that’s a bad thing or that they’re selfish (they are both defined by an incredibly passionate and outspoken sense of justice for others, of course), but rather that they understand that what they want is to further their own interests for their own benefit even as they are seeking justice for the entire world. (in katara’s worlds: “me. me, personally!”) but like. if anything, the fact that azula and sokka never think in terms of the ego but only in terms of servitude to the point that they are actually detached from their own humanity is deeply unhealthy and awful, which is why so much of sokka’s arc is about getting him to understand his intrinsic worth as a human being and the value of accepting help, and azula’s tragedy and downfall is precipitated by her acknowledgement that she has been deliberately isolated her entire life and now she is alone and utterly helpless.

I do see katara and zuko as quite heroic, inspiring characters, to azula and sokka’s quite tragic, heartbreaking characters (especially azula of course, but like. I don’t think sokka’s deep-seated, copious issues have somehow been magically resolved just because “the boiling rock” is his apotheosis. you get it). but katara was always the “valued” sibling whereas azula began as the valued sibling and zuko rose above her by disrupting/transcending the paradigm that valued her only to end up in the position that she felt teleologically entitled to (not to say that she thought she would become fire lord, but that he does become the most powerful player in the fire nation, at least in name). and a large part of that is the fact that katara and sokka grew up in extremely different conditions than azula and zuko did, even if both their worldviews are informed by imperialism and patriarchy in some way. so katara was valued as a sort of cultural artefact who represents the last hope of a dying people, whereas azula was valued as the obedient daughter of a powerful abusive patriarch. it’s still a way of ascribing “value,” but the criteria are completely different in both cases. which is why I still think that azula and sokka are functionally more similar, because even if azula is valued, it is with the expectation that she function in the same way that sokka is expected to function, as a depersonalized vessel for the good of their people.

so there are similarities for sure, but also those similarities are constantly being complicated through locating their respective cultural contexts as they informed their upbringing, psychologies, and sibling relationships. I will say that it’s true that both of these relationships are unhealthy (to an extent), and both sets of siblings parallel each other in very significant ways, but the ways in which their relationships are in fact “unhealthy” are nonetheless almost diametrically opposed.

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lavenderjewels · 4 months

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Despite jjk already being tragic for multiple characters, it’ll be beautiful if Yuuji manages to save Megumi from Sukuna. One of the best aspects of their relationship from the start (although possibly not the healthiest) has been their unconditional desire to save and be with each other. Megumi telling Yuuji to “start by saving me” was such a significant moment in helping Yuuji continue moving forward and not isolate himself away from Megumi and the others. And, while killing Sukuna is considered to be the priority of the characters Yuuji has consistently been planning ways to save Megumi too, and arguably one of the only characters to push those plans too. The same can apply to Megumi too, with his soul drowning after possession, suppressed after seeing his sister and mentor die. At his lowest, I would love to see Yuuji and the others be there for him too. It wouldn’t fix anything that’s already happened, but it would be a start towards healing

#idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ of course it could just end up going completely tragic #or yuuji left after failing to save megumi but having to end sukuna #jjk spoilers #itafushi #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #tagging this with their ship name since it technically involves them #jjk 143 #jjk 246 #saying all this but I don’t think Yuuji’s saving megumi plans will go smoothly at all #not just because the manga still has a year left at the least but bc sukuna is NOT being defeated that fast #infortunately I don’t think most of the adults will make it #I think most of the younger characters and new generation will survive #every now and then I have to make a mandatory post about yuuji and megumi’s impact and the story circling back to them saving each other #mypost

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public-trans-it · 10 months

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Man, I genuinely owe my life to FtM Girlies. Without them I wouldn’t have figured out my gender shit anywhere near as well and would probably still be going “Yeah I’m a trans gal. That’s… close enough. I’m happier as that than a Cis guy so I must be, right?”

Without them I wouldn’t have really taken the time to sit down and realize just how fucking weird gender can be, and the kind of things you can do with it.

I will forever remember the moment someone I was chatting to was discussing their pronouns, and pulled out a damn FLOWCHART. It could more or less be summed up as “Cis people: I am a trans dude, I use He/Him pronouns. Binary trans people: I am nonbinary. I use They/Them pronouns. Everyone else: Use whatever weird shit you think applies best to me.” and looking at it forced my third eye open and allowed me to realize just how vast the potential of gender was as a means of self-expression and identity, and how much of our identity rests in our relationships with others.

That was the moment that made me take a step back and go “Well now hold on a second. DO I want to be a girl? AM I a girl at all?” Sitting down and questioning “If I was AFAB, would I be cis?” And realizing that the idea of being a cis girl was just as revolting to me as being a “cis” guy for so much of my life was. Had I been AFAB I absolutely would still end up as trans! Which got me thinking about what my transition goals actually WERE.

Even now years later I stilled haven’t explored the full extent of my gender, and the potential that still lies within it. It’s become so tangled up in my relationship to DID as well as my views of animism. It’s something deeply personal, and I’m not sure if I’d ever even be capable of sharing the full extent of it, though am happy to try for the curious.

The more I talk with friends, the more I realize I’m not alone in this. Bespoke genders are AWESOME and incredibly common actually! Even my ‘cis’ friends that I’ve talked to, when we really explore it, and up saying stuff like “Yeah I’m like 90% cis. There’s certainly SOME complex stuff there but it’s small and not worth the hassle”, but even as they say that I can see that bit of joy of not HAVING to bottle up that tiny bit anymore. And it’s beautiful!

EVERYONE should be comfortable exploring the full extent of their gender. Everyone should take pride in that little tiny sliver of gender fuckery dwelling inside them!

Fucking… reply or tag this post with what your own personal brand of genderfuckery looks like! I wanna hear it! I wanna give everyone that outlet!

#honestly as much as I despise them… this post is TERF inclusive #so so so many TERFs have genuinely fascinating relationships with gender!#and they also deserve that outlet to fully talk about it #because that’s one of the fastest ways to pull them out of the cult #once TERFs start discussing gender genuinely and openly with each other A LOT of infighting starts #specifically BECAUSE they are compressing very complex views into a stupidly simple framework #and a lot of their frustration with trans people is wondering why the framework works for us but not for them #and lashing out because of that #when the truth is the framework DIDNT work for us which is WHY WE ABANDONED IT #and I don’t think that these TERFS are all secretly trans people! they probably arent!#but the entire point of this post is that gender is way way way more complex than just fitting into two options #even for so called ‘binary cis’ people #that said THE REST OF MY BLOG VERY MUCH IS NOT TERF INCLUSIVE #FUCK OFF

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