I often see this impulse from other trans men* that involves hypervigilance of being one of the "good men" who set ourselves apart from the men who hurt others, and I wonder if this ultra-policing actually prevents us from being "bad"

I wonder if agonizing about doing everything "right" is only contributing to poor mental health of trans men* because you are seeing a distorted, monstrous version of yourself, somebody with whom you have to kill off. It forces you into this space of having to be perfect, to beat yourself up over any perceived infraction.

And I just don't think it's an effective measure to ensure we are "one of the good ones." Constantly treating yourself as the beast, treating yourself like a leper who has no place in the civilized world? How does that ensure that you both treat others well but also ensure that you aren't fucking miserable every single moment you're not alone?

I was semi-joking last post but ....she’s so fun to draw wtffff

Following 2007 and Rise Splinter’s example, Bay Splinter absolutely watches soaps, teleseryes, telenovelas, and dramas and Venus watches some with him 

Casey taught them how to make their own skates, so now the entire sewer is an impromptu skating rink 

... I forgot that Leo, Donnie and Mikey’s shoes actually match (as much as they could make their custom frankenshoes match-- Mikey’s is like 98% duct tape and bandage wraps tbh; “But they’re still chucks underneath...!”) I just subconsciously went Punky Brewster on her shoewear. problem is I like both. so. nyeh.

have I settled on the size of her tesse--- hahahahhahahhahhahhha no.

in a brighter timeline, if they did a 3rd movie or just put both scrotes in and pumped out TMNT movies like they have Transformers movies I’d guess Venus, Jennika, Slash, Tokka, Rahzar, whoever were probably whatchamacallit, experimental groups to Splinter & Co.’s ....control group? subjects from different experiments with the ooze before April’s dad went whistleblower. or maybe experiments from the 15 year interval trying to recreate the first lab’s results ‘cuz Sacks would’ve had the resources to recommence pretty fast after the disaster

although to explain Venus and Jennika... since Sacks had ties to the Foot Clan, and Shredder pulled that double cross with Baxter in OotS. what I would guess is that Sacks pulled whatever weight he had left with the Foot Clan (maybe with Karai at the helm in Shredder’s absence) to use their resources for any gaps with his own and as a cover to reconvene his experiments. blah blah Karai studied under Shredder obvi and so probably thought to have the scientists report to her before they report to Sacks. Sacks was kept in the dark, not told they were more or less able to recreate the original lab results on the turtles who’d become Venus’n Jennika. “oh oops they died sacks, sux 4 u try again maybe, here’s some more animals for you.” 

Venus and Jennika are taken in under the Foot once they exhibit the same potential the boys showed; Sacks just goes a little apeshit on the science, as a treat, hence Slash, and then Tokka’n Rahzar and again told they failed. Sacks fully thinks he couldn’t recreate the first lab’s results womp womp u bitch

....how would any of them break out from under the Foot? lol i dunno. uh. mmmmmaybe black market “weapons” dealing-- Venus and Jennika break out (willingly or opportunistically) during shipment to... where? nyc why thefuck not, oh look they end up in chinatown *eyebrow waggle* oh now they’ve stumbled upon a grandpa, maybe his name is Grandpa Chung in the community, I don’t know, and he adopts them surprise! is he blind and therefore just thinks they’re lost kids? blech, does he see two turtles and see an auspicious omen? ehhh hmmm..... I guuuuesssss? or is he just gonna be an example of people doing good things with no prompting because it’s the right fuckin’ thing to do, they’re obviously kids with no guardians, and goddamn we know it’s for the plot but also people are just out here being good to each other guys, it’s real, it happens.

i really need to finish this one day

I might be ~quirky~ for this (welcome to my twisted mind and etc) but I genuinely have so much fun with shipping nowadays, ever since I chose to be singleship for each muse. I feel like my adhd has never allowed me to pour even half as much care and attention into a ship as I'd have loved to when I had multiple ones at the same time per muse, so being able to focus on a single romantic dynamic per muse really feels like a weight off my shoulders

ian and skylar face cards don't decline im- @kashisun with the nose presets again👃🏽🪐

Just oooone more thing to add before I get some sleep:

My Deitysonas are not exempt from being ticklish.~

If you want to utterly destroy a god with tickles, then my Deitysonas are very much fitting that criteria :3

merfolk and the eternal urge to (literally) shove their face into everyone else's business. miranda tries her best not to be rude but its not her fault that she wants to constantly be on top of everyone she loves and constantly know what theyre doing at all times and include them in what shes doing.

this post got me thinking about bodies and the way that we fit together with our f/os. do your fingers interlock perfectly? does their palm seem to rest perfectly on the small of your back? how do you match up with each other when you’re cuddling or hugging?

why has nobody literally thought of using disguise self to show astarion what he looks like-

what if. Amy “fix-it” because hallucifer makes sam so paranoid about dean leaving for no reason that sam gives in and follows him and is witness to the whole thing

sua x rindou core ᥫ᭡

102.

wip wednesday :D

tagged by @mrs-theirin; tysm quill!! tagging @arklay @steelport @aartyom @malefiicarum @rosebarsoap @kirnet @shadowglens @narshadda @lavinet @druidgroves @swordcoasts @calenhads @brujah @nuclearstorms @florbelles @shepardgf @devilbrakers @jillvalcntines @morvaris @kymal @risingsh0t @solasan @lvllns @rosykims @aelyosos and you!!!!

have a depressing oddly interpreted take on the taint affecting alistair and rowena 😘

The taint came for his hands first.

A side effect of days spent clutching a sword and shield no doubt. His veins went fast, running black and blue overnight. He didn't like looking at them, but Rowena traced them over every night. Hardened bones were next. Protruding metacarpals and thinned knuckles and a noticeable creak in the mornings. Then the pain began. The ache. Days where his joints stiffened to stone, where a grasp clenched too tight refused to come undone, where splaying fingers to their fullest extent proved too much.

Rowena often caught him staring at his hands in the corner of her eye. Busy hands, curious hands, hands made to fidget and gesture and move above all else, now immobile. His worry token went untouched for months, as did many of the things he loved to hold. Flowers in the garden. The mabari's paws. Rowena.

There was a time when Alistair couldn't keep his hands off of her. Affection of the physical kind was a bright and shiny concept and it took time for him to adjust. Rowena could touch him anywhere, after all. It came easy to her, the affection, the initiation. His cheek, his chin, his collarbone--anywhere would do. Eventually, he came to reciprocate. Tentatively at first, as if asking for permission, but confidence came with the security of her affection. Touch became a comfort. A hand around her waist, on her jaw, in her hair. Anywhere would do.

It couldn't have been more different now. He shied away when she reached for his arm to hold, twitched when she kissed his neck in the mornings. Evening baths became sparser until they no longer existed at all, and this Rowena could hardly bear--facing this truth that the old rituals had died, so she clung to the last of them.

No amount of massage relieved the pain, but Rowena would be damned if she didn't try. Nightly, he let her take his hands in her own.

It was a relief each time to see that despite the Taint, Alistair's hands were still his own, broad and square-fingered and devastatingly gentle. Calloused on the underside and scarred by his earliest days with a blade, too young and eager to know any better. And those nights by the firelight, nights where she took his palm in her hands and massaged the ache away, she could see that Alistair's hands were still freckled, just barely. The sun could still shine on him and leave honeyed kisses against his skin and this was one thing the taint could never take. No darkspawn could take the sun.

The night she realized this, she wept silently. She'd stopped him before he could speak, pressed his freckled hand to her cheek before he could pull away, and whispered, "Bathe with me."

Months later, the taint came for her.

For Rowena, it was her vision and it was swift. [reduntant fix this queen lol]

i wish i didnt feel so much discomfort towards physical touch. i want to card my fingers through someone's hair while they lay their head on my lap. i want to cup someone's face in my hands. i want to lean into a hand splayed across the top of my back