#it's like you read my mind anon!

[ancientstone]

I found you through your ao3 account lol. I know you aren’t posting much about turtles these days. I know Mikey is your fav. I am curious as to what your opinion on Raph is at least for 03 since that’s my fav series

Strangely enough anon, I'm rewatching tmnt 03 right now! It's the first time I'm properly sitting down to watch it again in a long time, and you know what? I'm right in maintaining that it's bloody good!

I love this version of Raph! He so obviously cares about people, he's so quick to jump in and defend, yet he keeps that gruff personality we know and love. I also think the writers are really good at keeping the turtles to their character traits while also rounding them out - there's lots of side comments and brief lines that flesh out their interests, their likes/dislikes, etc. which make them really solid characters.

I think the episode 'Lone Raph and Cub' really demonstrates how varied he is. We see him at possibly his angriest in the series, but also when he's trying to calm a kid down, when he's being snarky, when he's working together with someone, when he's vulnerable and apologising. Again, 10/10 writing!

Bonus, he has some great one-liners!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

thinking about an estranged childhood friends to lovers story with gojo……

you’re a rowdy kid. during one of your adventures, you end up at the gojo estate; sneaking your way into a vast, beautiful garden, pretty pink roses as far as the eye can see. little gojo is crouched down, watching tiny sprouts grow, and you’re too captivated to look away. bright snowy hair, striking blue eyes, all dolled up in a fancy yukata. he turns to meet your gaze — and all you give him is a sheepish laugh, before strolling over to introduce yourself. he doesn’t seem to mind the company, so you keep coming over to play with him. you bring cool rocks, pretty cicadas you caught, a dusty gameboy. he listens to you speak. he watches the way you move, wave your hands when you’re excited. he grows so, so fond of you.

one day, you stop coming by to see him — and he doesn’t need confirmation to know that one of the maids must have chased you off.

twenty years later, you meet him again, in a crowded little café. he calls out for you by name and you have no idea who you’re looking at. a tall, handsome, cheery man… wearing a blindfold? and shooting you a charming grin. you have no idea who he is, but he remembers you. he remembers you a lot more than he should. he chides you for forgetting your very best friend, but there’s nothing but humour in his voice. you watch as he speaks, as he moves, as he taps his feet under the table after insisting you order something — his treat. you still don’t remember him.

but you’re captivated, all the same.

(from underneath his blindfold, gojo watches you smile. he thinks to himself that some things must truly never change; because he still feels that familiar swarm of butterflies, with every move you make.)

[kithj]

some stories are written precisely to elicit strong emotions from the reader INCLUDING negative ones. some stories and characters are meant to be upsetting, they are meant to challenge you and make you uncomfortable!! when a story makes you feel Big Feelings sometimes you are meant to sit in those feelings and ask yourself why! fiction is a great space to explore these emotions in a safe environment. you, as the reader, are meant to think critically about the art you are enjoying and that includes asking yourself questions like why has the author presented their art in this way and what are they trying to tell me. and then you get to have fun picking it apart and figuring it out and deciding what, exactly, the art means to you.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

liking your art and opening your blog to see that you also made my other 90000 favorite pieces of charles and erik. oh my god you are out here in the mines and you are creating PURE GOLD BRO? OLD MAN YAOI FOREVER THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

HEHE always at the scene of the crime.... thank you so much my friend !!!!!!! i'm so glad to be the creator of some works you enjoy and i look forward to creating more in the future for you to love !!

if i may .... provide a small preview of what i have prepared for later today as a thank you...

i hope you enjoy it once it's finished :]]] !!

[cheecats]

Can I request Shadowsight for the designs? Or maybe Frecklewish if you'd rather?

I'm curious what either would look like in your style! (Which I adore btw it's SO good)

i know Shadowsight is described as small in the books, but I prefer to interpret him with the Tigerstar(tm) tallness with Dovewing's build, and that he tends to shrink down/lower his voice while talking to appear as meek/non-threatening as possible because his peers get nervous around him

[tulpar-transmissions]

disclaimer before i start writing this is just kind of a brain dump. so. yeag 👍

it really fucking bothers me. how the mouthwashing fandom tags things. especially their character HATE. ohh my god.

They will make a post that is just "I HATE JIMMY" repeated 27 times. And then they put it in #Jimmy Mouthwashing.

Now, I completely understand WHY. He's an absolute piece of shit and should rot in hell for all eternity.

But it also... really sucks. I dunno. Maybe I'm being a little bitch, but it's always so aggressive. Saying that Jimmy should kill himself and that you want to kill him and all of that.

It really sucks. And as a fictive of Jimmy, it's upsetting to a point where I sometimes worry about making posts about myself, because we are so violent to him.

Sometimes, when I'm having a really rough time, I like to go look through my tag. It's nice. I like seeing art of myself. It's fun!

But I can't, because I know that I'm going to see "Jimmy should actually kill himself," and I know that it's going to be untagged.

Maybe I'm just overreacting? I dunno. I truly do understand why we say these things, but it's really shitty to me. I mean, come on. The general untagged "kys" jokes bother me anyway, but it especially hurts like this.

I'm not mad at anyone. I'm not upset. I'm not apologizing for canon. I'm not taking moral high ground. I'm just talking about something that upsets me.

If you took the time to read this, thank you. I appreciate it /gen

It's not even that you have to keep everything out of the character tags! Maybe just use "#fuck jimmy" or "#i hate jimmy" or something? Make it a common thing, so that filtering it actually does something.

Again, thank you! Much love to the entire community, y'all are awesome 💖 /p /gen

Sincerely, Jimmy 📗🌿 :)

[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[fluffypotatey]

Wukong is set up on a blind date. Macaque, instead of spying and sabotage, handles it maturely. Face down on a couch listening to his Heartbreak Playlist. Wukong ruins his own date by paranoidly expecting hoping macaque to pop up and ruin the date

Macky like

while he listens to 🎶FACE DOWN IN THE GROUND SHE SAID IT DOESNT HURT SHE SAID!!!!🎶

meanwhile, Wukong is sweating and doesn’t even need to sabotage his own date because his frantic/anxious-why-hasn’t-Mac-stormed-in??? energy freaked them out plenty

[thickenmyblood]

hi maca :) do u already know when you can post chapter 20? im so sad about hiuh ending but also so excited for some happiness :( also, will it really only be 20 chapters or will you add one or two more? in any case, thanks so much for all the time and effort you put into this! I loved every second I spent reading this fic <3

hello!!! well, i was supposed to post ch20 on feb 1st . . . but that obviously did not happen. this month is the month though!!!! I'll try to make it happen before march.

about the chapter: yes, it's the last chapter ever. there will be no more. ever. honestly, I don't think you'll want another chapter after this considering the rough draft I'm working with is 250 PAGES

[lesamis]

Hiya lyres! What books do you have on your tbr this year?

hi anon! as always, i have left christmas with a big stack of Assigned Reading Material From My Best Friend, And Others. this is the physical tbr pile:

a few other books i either received or am looking forward to this year:

the hurting kind, ada limón (this was a gift! i've nearly finished it, it's been my early morning read.)

minor detail, adania shibli (another gift from a friend - this was on my list last year but i couldn't get my hands on it. happy to get to it now)

when the angels left the old country, sacha lamb (this was also a gift but i am SO excited for this. i love fantasy takes on angels and i've heard nothing but good things about this)

the tomb of dragons, katherine addison (this will be released in march and i am on the edge of my seat for it. give me back my favourite bedraggled little elf detective. i need to see him struggle to accept love in even more increasingly dire situations)

[lestappenforever]

Just in case this wasn’t very clear: Sending anonymous (coward) Lestappen hate my way is an absolute waste of your time and energy because I could not care less about whatever shit you're spewing and I'll block you without even bothering to read your entire ask.

[callilemon]

Omg have you listened to ‘Love Like You’, sung by Ashe and Caleb Hyles

Because if not please do, it’s so Vanoé centric, more so with Vani, imagine him singing it, you think you could make a comic like that

Yes! Of course! I have a whole VnC x SU AU!

"Love like you" is literally so Vanoé and it's one of the reasons I started this AU! If you're interested, my side blog Is @the-casestudy-of-fusion 💜💙

[mishy-mashy]

Does En have some kind of anxiety disorder? How do you think?

I don't think so. I think he's just faint at heart. I already talked about why he's a product of his time, quick to always run when faced with danger. Rather than anxiety, it's just survival instincts with En

The post in question

He doesn't panic until his life itself is threatened. He let Midoriya run around and do his thing, and whenever he appears as a vestige to advise Midoriya, he's not anxious or anything. He's just telling Midoriya his own limits, which is pretty in-line with how En views himself: he always talks about his limitations as a weak Quirk.

It was just facing AFO and the threat of being stolen we see him lose his cool. AFO probably sparks some bad memories and trauma in En, considering he just turned to run and got sawed in half by the guy that killed his Banjo-senpai (who some vestiges openly admit has a great, really useful Quirk).

If AFO could get Banjo, he could definitely get En, who's weaker than Banjo in. Everything really. Mind, Quirk capability, physical strength, etc.

To reiterate something in the first paragraph: it's not anxiety, it's survival. En's behavior is more like a prey animal than a predator. Even Banjo, when pressed against a wall (they can be stolen), panics.

But other than that, the two are pretty composed and view their Abilities as tools in their arsenal. Banjo views his as good for capture and mobility (both moving around and wrapping himself up), and En uses it to obscure vision and thinks about the cover's use.

Notably, Shinomori didn't panic when he saw AFO's looming hand. The only ones to freak out that AFO could reach them were Banjo and En, two city boys from when society was still ruined and trying to collect itself. The only two active wielders AFO managed to get his hand on to steal OFA. The others aren't as panicked.

[eldrtchmn]

Have you ever thought about learning to tattoo? Your art is beautiful, I can imagine people flying to you to have a tattoo done. (I hear it is also one of the more stable sources of income for an artist)

Actually yes it passed my mind! And I have an opportunity to try it so maybe soon(ish)

[oifaaa]

Bruce should kill the Joker because he created the Joker. Batman is the one that chased him into ace chemicals which resulted in him falling into the acid and the Joker is obsessed with Batman. We’ve seen (at least in one DC movie) that the Joker just stops being the Joker when Bruce dies. Could this all have happened without Batman? Yes and then it would be someone else’s problem but right now Joker is a monster of Batman’s creation and he should be the one to end him.

On your same logic should it also be on Joker's parents since they also created him, or maybe on the government / social systems since they were the ones that failed joker to begin with and made him turn to a life of crime ? If anyone has the legal right in America to kill the joker it would be the criminal justice system so why dont they sentence joker to death? Bruce hands joker off to the local authorities every other week shouldnt it be their responsibility at that point to keep joker incarcerated until he can be deemed no longer a threat to himself and others? And just bc one dc movie said joker would stop after Bruce dies doesn't mean that always happens especially with how dc keeps insisting there are multiple jokers- does Bruce have to kill all the jokers or just the one he personally spooked off the side of a platform by accident? I don't totally think you can blame Bruce for joker being as insane as he is since harley took the same dip and she still redeemable, and I don't think it should be on Bruce to compromise his morals just to kill a clown that literally several other people can kill - and I know " "ohh but Bruce gets in the way" then don't tell batman about it don't invite batman to your execution of the joker don't let him find out when Bruce's no kill rule is at its maximum (bc writers can't decide how extreme it should be) he can't let anyone die if he knows about it so just be sneaky and don't let him know

[raineandsky]

Hi!

Would you write a story about a body guard and a prince?

The prince doesn't trust the body guard at first, because he thinks that the body guard is someone else's spy. But when the guard saves his life from a deadly assassination all by himself and gets severely injured, the prince apologizes and starts to trust him. Hope you have a great day/night!!

ANON. YOU KNOW ME SO WELL :O thank you for the request - enjoy!!

-

The prince is usually woken up by a maid, or his dog, or, god forbid, that goddamn bodyguard barging in for no explicable reason.

It’s not often he’s awoken by the feeling of cold metal against his neck.

Panic crashes through the confusion almost instantly. The prince flails, tangled in royally thick sheets, and his attacker hisses in annoyance. The blade stings against his skin and falls away.

The assassin fumbles after the prince as he scrambles across the bed; they clearly weren’t expecting to deal with him conscious. They grab him by the collar to yank him back into the covers. The force rocks the nightstand, and the flower vase on top of it rocks in tandem. There’s a blissful moment of still nothingness before the vase topples and crashes to the floor with the violence of a swinging hammer.

The door gets battered open with a similar amount of force. The assassin startles, their attention snapped to the giant figure blocking the doorway.

His bodyguard. The prince has seen the way this man’s eyes follow him, how he’s always in the most convenient of places to fall in line with the prince’s day. He’s been spying, he knew it, he’s been relaying information to some treasonous third party—

And now he’s come to join in on the murder, the prince thinks sourly. Amazing.

The guard moves and the prince scrambles to avoid him, but he doesn’t descend on the prince like he was expecting. He takes four assured steps into the room, draws his sword, and throws himself at the assassin.

The assassin lurches to the side, mostly. The guard’s blade catches on their wrist in a bright arc of shining metal and crimson.

The assassin seems to be getting more and more out of their depth with every passing second. They hold their wrist shakily, red leaking through their fingers, stumbling slightly. The prince’s guard moves in for another strike.

He gets too close; the assassin’s ready for him this time. They dart out of reach and breeze their dagger across the guard’s side.

The guard shoves them. It’s almost an instinct. The assassin staggers, making another haphazard swipe to the guard’s chest that he doesn’t even seem to notice. He traps them against the windowsill, his frame blocking their escape, and with one final push they tumble straight out the window.

The silence that follows is more unnerving than the prince expected. The guard leans over the sill slightly to glance at his handiwork, almost unbothered, before finally turning his gaze back inside and to the prince. “You okay?” he asks plainly.

The prince isn’t entirely sure if he’s meant to feel grateful or terrified. The guard steps towards him, a frown creasing his brow, and the prince flinches unintentionally. 

His guard rummages in his pocket before offering him a handkerchief. “You’re bleeding,” he adds after a moment.

He hadn’t even noticed. Now he’s pointed it out, the prince can feel the faint line trailing down his throat. But, Jesus Christ, now he’s said it—

“I don’t think it’s me that needs it,” the prince says faintly.

Blood splatters across the front of the guard’s shirt, leaving unsightly red stains across the fabric like a stark reminder of who he is, of what he can do.

The prince hasn’t really seen blood at all, let alone so much of it. He feels a little weak looking at it but he just can’t seem to avert his gaze. It’s fascinating, in a horrific sort of way.

His guard follows his gaze to the new patterning on his clothes. “Ah,” he says shortly, “I didn’t even notice.”

He stumbles into the plush armchair near the bed, his sword tumbling to the floor. The prince watches with fear that he can’t quite place—the person the prince has always trusted the least—this supposed spy—has put his life on the line, and for what? What does he prove by almost dying?

He moves without thinking, clambering to free himself of covers much too hot and thick. He grabs the blanket from the end of the bed with shaky hands and mindlessly pushes it into the gash on the guard’s side.

The thanks he gets is a sharp hiss and a cringe from his touch. “I— I want to help,” the prince says a little more desperately than is royal.

“Your Majesty, please,” the guard says gently, “I’m okay.”

“It’s a lot of blood.”

“I’m not dead.”

“Not yet,” the prince snaps, and the guard barks a laugh.

He obediently stays put, though, forcing out a long breath as the prince tries valiantly to stem some of the blood leaking all over his lovely velvet chair. His hands tremble, his head light at the feeling of that sickly warmth on his skin, his mind already wandering. 

He was so sure his guard was in on this. If he had been, surely, he wouldn’t have intervened. The prince has spent the last god knows how many months watching him back, waiting for a hint that he’s right, that this man is part of some gang out for his blood.

His waiting was in vain, clearly. The guard’s always been silent—looking back, maybe that was a respect thing—content to just watch from the shadows, unseen until needed—a common trait amongst the crown’s warriors—and Jesus Christ he was just completely normal and the prince misread everything.

“I’m sorry,” the prince blurts before he can stop it. The guard turns his gaze from the window and back to his prince.

“Not your fault people think you’re an easy target.”

The prince doesn’t think too hard about that comment. “You saved my life.”

A half-smile graces the guard’s face for a moment. “As is my duty, Your Majesty.”

Calling it duty is slightly underselling the weight of what he’s done. “No, you saved my life.” The prince keeps his eyes focused on the blanket slowly turning red in his hands, as much as he doesn’t want to, to avoid the way the guard’s gaze is burning into him. “I think a thank you is in order, at least.”

“Oh, uh, a’ight.” The guard clears his throat dramatically. “Thank you.”

“What? No.” The prince laughs, a genuine full-second’s laugh, before he remembers to rein it in. “No, I want to thank you. After I’ve been so… weird to you, you still put yourself at risk for me. I think it’s worth you knowing that I appreciate that.”

The guard flushes for a moment, thankfully turning his interest elsewhere. “Well, your father pays a hefty sum to keep you alive. I’d deal with you actively trying to kill me for the salary I get in this place.”

“And I’m sorry, again” — The guard’s barely finished talking before the words are falling out like they’re desperate to be said — “for being so… so—”

“Suspicious and rude?”

The prince is momentarily incensed enough that his eyes snap up to the guard’s, but he simply grins back. His eyes crinkle slightly, his face brightened. “Your staring wasn’t subtle,” he adds with a short laugh. “At first I thought it might be admiration, but after a while I realised it was only ever me you were looking at.”

It’s the prince’s turn to flush now—mostly out of embarrassment. “Yes, well, I inherited paranoia from my father as well as his crown.”

The guard’s smile turns soft, and the prince decides he’s best to avoid it once again. “You’ve no need to worry,” he says gently. “I’ll always be here to protect you.”

The prince makes some horrendously unchecked noise before clambering to his feet. “Okay,” he says quickly, “hold this against your side and your chest. I’m going to find a doctor that’s awake.”

“That’s usually my job.”

“You’re not usually the one bleeding all over my silk cushions.”

The guard nods like he’s admitting defeat. “Give my apologies to the maids for all the washing they’re about to do.”

“I will,” the prince says with complete earnest, then he’s out the door.

He reappears with the doctor a few minutes later, the latter of which is wearing a rather telling scowl for four in the morning. The guard lets the doctor prod and poke without complaint whilst the prince flutters about nervously.

He’s so focused on the work the doctor’s doing, making sure he’s careful—as if the palace doctor wouldn’t be—that he completely misses his guard’s gaze. Soft, knowing, relieved that the prince is finally watching him with hope instead of mistrust.

It’s a refreshing change to his usual expression. Maybe one day the guard can change it from hope to unwavering faith.