#*sad trombone*
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Emo Kydron you mean so much to me
for @axiigotlost :)
#he's getting further and further away from canon as we speak#tales from the stinky dragon#tftsd#art#stinky dragon#kyborg#kydron#kydron au#quadron#yes its boxy quadron because my snake design is too hard to consistently draw#and im lazy#i also have no idea what hit topic actually is#as a brit#*sad trombone*
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it may be empty fridge shit but it’s good shit
home made onion jam, jar sauerkraut, turkish bread from last night’s kebab run, apple and fennel snags and the ol tomato sauce american mustard
oh and I almost forgot the point of this post, my latest low spoon godsend is throwing baking parchment on the pan. I don’t really care about how well it cooks (though so far it’s been fine)
it saves so much elbow grease when it comes time to clean, and I’m very fond of it
#low spoon food#kitchen hacks#snag#straya#I know that second one is gonna fall apart but I didn’t think to use both ends#shit wrong blog#once again#*sad trombone*
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my agenda is to normalise alienfucking in the gffa to the point where it’s just fucking
no one is pure human, so it’s just a case of what kind of weird genitals you have rather than having to worry about people finding it weird that you have horns on your dick from your zabrak ancestor
sex safety is a whole different ballgame (heh), with different prophylactic shields that are adaptable, considering you don’t know who you’ll pick up and what they’re going to have going on down there.
quinlan, as a frequent flier with complex needs due to psychometry has an actual forcefield for his downstairs mixup powered by a kyber crystal (that he keeps in his belly button ring) which also hooks up to his prosthetic dick when he wants to bring that out to play. Obi-Wan prefers the spray on ‘bio shield’, because it’s more subtle to simply carry a canister and refills in his robes and obi, and it doesn’t vibrate weirdly (he is also more sensitive to kyber crystals talking to him, and he does not want to hear kyber chatter during sex).
quinlan fucked mas amedda once but he regretted that decision ever since (he’s hot as sin but at what cost?!)
mij gilamar’s beautiful dead wife (rip) was a wooky
luminara unduli has a queerplatonic relationship with a droid who works in the archives
lando calrissian has fucked han, luke, leia and chewbacca (and max rebo!)
plo koon is considered one of the sexiest jedi and consistently gets asked to pose in calendars, along with oppo rancisis, whose tail has a cult following
this is gffa where the peli motto lifestyle is the norm, if you get what I’m saying. it’s very important to me that you understand
jar jar binks— *shots fired*
#star wars head canons#star wars worldbuilding#trans quinlan vos rights#alienfucking#the smuts#more star wars fics need to get weird or maybe I just haven’t found the gold yet#padme got pregnant because anakin convinced her he could use the force to prevent pregnancy#*sad trombone*
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Oh I can already tell it's gonna be such a day today.
Brewed my morning coffee and realized, in a record-scratch moment as I started pouring it into my mug, that I never actually put the grounds in the filter.
I just made hot water.
Second attempt at coffee is already more successful. But now my breakfast is ready and cooling while I wait for the actual coffee to finish.
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Feels great to be all caught up w suptober again!! That being said. I have no idea what to do w tmrws prompt
#*sad trombone*#i also have work tmrw (vacation went by far too quickly :'() so itll be lovely to figure out how to fit daily art into my schedule#its good that this years suptobers only 16 prompts honestly#solar posts#edit shit wrong blog. ah well
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A kiss at long rest may be quite continental 💎✨
#baldur's gate 3#bg3 brigha#not tagging everyone lol#astarion looks grumpy because he wishes he was the one wearing the marylin monroe outfit. of course#and I've been saying that the most tragic thing that happened in my playthrough is gale finding a woman who could peg him#but she's a lesbian. sad trombone playing#f
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How You Turn My World; Chapter 3
As the reality of your situation sets in, you try your best to survive in the Underground... and find a way out. Little do you know though, someone else is trying to find you.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, getting more into the meat and bones of this fic
Content Warnings; Swearing
Word Count; 3.2 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Do not put my work into AI - I will push you into the Bog of Eternal Stench
Your night for the most part was uneventful. The horrid screaming had thankfully went in the opposite direction, away from your tree-top abode. Although throughout the night, little crowds of glowing eyes had amassed at the bottom of the tree, but they made no attempts to reach you. Even though they couldn’t reach you, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved, since all you could see was their eyeshine, and hear them chittering to each other.
Great, they’re probably pointing and laughing at the new fool in town. ‘Oh, look, Jim, a new plaything! Don’t they look stupid hanging in a tree like that? Fufufu.’ But you kept quiet, and just watched them, as much as they did you, making sure they didn’t try any funny business.
They didn’t stay for long though, either leaving due to their curiosity being quenched, or from how boring you were trying to be; silent, and watching, not moving. If worse came to worse, you would have started chucking rowan berries at them; if fae don’t like the tree, they probably wouldn’t like the berries either.
Eventually, the dark night dissolved into the dim glow of dawn, and once you could actually make out your surroundings and it wasn’t just one large mass of darkness, you started making your way down the tree. You were a bit proud of yourself, seeing that you had 1) survived the night, and 2) not fallen out of the tr—
Snap! … you celebrated too soon, since the branch you were using as a foothold gave way, and you tumbled your way to the ground. At least the fall wasn’t too high up, but it still stung like a bitch, and you’d definitely have a bruise; both to your body and your ego.
At least there was no one around to see you eat dirt.
Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, and smacked your cheeks; fighting off sleepiness. Focus; you need to get home. Read the damn book Mr. Sparkles gave you… damn prick is probably gonna call in a favour later…
With a still sore butt, you found a mossy rock that looked somewhat comfortable and sat down, opening up your ‘How Not to Die in Fairyland; For Dummies!’ book (not really the name of it, but it was damn close).
“Chapter nine; how to leave the Underground,” you muttered, flipping to the page. Weird, it’s only one page?
“While leaving the Underground is possible, it is a task that not many have accomplished.
Of the possible ways include;
Finding a portal; typically an enchanted faerie ring, or royal portal.
Finding a fae and tricking them into owing you a favour
One should leave the Underground before their thirteenth day. Should you stay beyond thirteen days you will not be able to leave the Underground, and will be a permanent resident.”
You shut the book, taking in a deep breath. What has it been, ten hours? It was hard to tell, the blurring of time. But at least you had a rough time of twelve days to find a portal — or have a fae owe you a favour — and get the hell back home. If worse came to worse, you were not above some benign trickery so you could see your idiots again.
…
…
Lilia had arrived home safe and sound, slept in his warm bed, and had some of his … delightful home cooking before he was due back at the castle. And while he was eating the somehow overcooked yet still raw eggs, he couldn’t help but wonder how the little Beastie was doing; how you were doing.
He didn’t technically owe you any favours, since he had given you that handy dandy book — if anything, you owed him, since you did say ‘thanks’ and everything — but curiosity is a fickle thing, and you seemed interesting. Humans typically reacted more when they ended up here, and made no proper moves to ensure that they made it back. But you, the little Beastie? Lilia saw a fire in your eyes, of both ire and determination. You wouldn’t give up easily, and while it was entertaining, he also knew that trouble could, and most likely would, follow wherever you go.
Last time a human like you ended up in the Underground… it didn’t end well (said human nearly burnt the Queen’s labyrinth down to the ground). Hopefully though, you didn’t prove to be as foolish, or as obsessed with fire as the last human. Who knows, maybe you would even escape! If you didn’t though, the court could use a new fool, and you seemed amusing enough to please their majesties whilst not incenting their ire.
“Hmm, wonder if their majesties have felt the intrusion,” Lilia hummed to himself, cleaning up his dishes. He could easily just magic it away, but the trip to the mortal realm had taken a lot out of him, so he was stuck doing some good old fashioned manual labour, not that he really minded. Doing the dishes was better than being digested by some mangy, overweight, cat.
A crack of lightning sounded outside, disrupting the otherwise beautiful and peaceful day. “That answers that question!” Lilia sounded too cheerful for what many fae considered to be a bad omen, as lightning rarely meant a good thing when it concerned the royal family.
A raven came to rest on the windowsill, eyes glowing green; a messenger.
Lilia tapped its beak, letting the message play.
“General Vanrouge, I require you to apprehend the trespasser on our land, lest they taint the soil,” the raven recited Queen Maleficia’s message. “Shall you deem it necessary to use drastic measures, so be it… To call this number back, place a coin into the raven’s mouth. To save this call—”
Lilia groaned, but coughed up a bronze coin so that the Queen didn’t send more ravens to his house on his day off. “Our guest shall be dealt with swiftly, I assure you of that.” Lilia ended his call, the raven blinked, coughed out the coin, and flew off in a ruckus of cawing.
He sighed, and cracked his back. “Hopefully our guest can understand… and not hit me with a broom this time.” With a snap of his fingers, Lilia poofed into his trademark green sparkles, and he was a bat again. Instead of being lost in the mortal realm though, he was off to find you, who was most likely lost in the Underground… hopefully you didn’t get eaten or fell into the bog again, since he doubted the Queen would want a dead(?) or putrid smelling guest.
“Beastie, Beastie, Beastie, wherever could you be?”
…
…
“Where the hell am I,” you wheezed. You had been walking for a good bit, since hey, the bog really smelled bad, plus you didn’t want to stick around long enough where the creature that was screaming last night decided to come back and make an appetizer out of you. So, you were walking. Where to? You had no idea, all you knew was that you needed to find a portal somehow, of the mushroom variety, or royally produced.
Currently, you were fighting gravity and making your way up a steep hill, but you knew you would be able to see over the dense forest canopy once you reached the top, and maybe, just maybe, you would be able to make sense of your bearings. Would you know where you were once you reached the top? Pfttt, no, but at least you would know what exactly was around. A sulfuric rotten egg-smelling swamp was one thing, but you wouldn’t be all too surprised if you found out there was a man-eating daisy patch or some other nonsense here.
Finally, you made it to the top of the hill, and you caught your breath before looking out towards the horizon. To the north, the sea of trees continued for what seemed forever. East, the trees made their way into a grassy plateau where there seemed to be a village of some sort in the distance; quaint. South, uh, the swamp, definitely not going back that direction, you’ve had enough of that swamp. And west, a castle, surrounded by a maze.
“An enchanted faerie ring or royal portal,” you muttered, weighing your options.
You had about twelve days left to get out of this place. You could spend those twelve days trying to find a so-called ‘faerie ring’ in the forest since those things were mushroom circles, but the chances of finding an enchanted one seemed to be slim to none. On the other hand, castles usually equaled royalty, which would equal portal. Knowing royals though, they were probably batshit insane. Also, if they felt like you were lying or trying to dupe them? Hey, they could apparently turn you into a slug or some other easily squishable being if they wanted to. And you really didn’t want to be turned into a slug… now at the moment at least.
“Forest,” you looked at the forest, “or castle?” You could also go east, but the grassland didn’t exactly scream portal potential or had any rowan trees (or any trees for that matter). “That is the question. Look for weird mushrooms and maybe get eaten by some critter, or potentially piss off some royal and end up as said critter. Hmmm.”
You groaned, and flopped down to the ground; both options weren’t all that appealing, or even guaranteed that you would find a portal. Rolling over to your stomach, you opened up the book again, seeing if it had anything that could help you make up your mind on the options in front of you.
Scanning over the table of contents, there was nothing about where to find a portal in the woods. There was, however, a handy dandy chapter on fae etiquette, including government specifications…
You looked up towards the castle again, eyeing the maze. And started coughing out into laughter at your situation. “Pfttt, didn’t I wish that the Goblin King would whisk me away from my life,” you wheezed. “And here I am! In the fucking Underground with a labyrinth?!” Your laughing subsided into a tired sigh, and you set your eyes back towards the castle. “The irony is astounding really.”
At least you didn’t have to worry about some baby being turned into a goblin… right?
No, no, you only wished for yourself to be taken away, no one else. But would that mean you would end up as a goblin? Fae? Or as some weird pet or servant to a fae? Hopefully not… and at least you had the somewhat credible book that Mr. Sparkles gave you.
Shit, I owe him a favour though… CURSE YOU SARCASM!!!!
Well, maybe Mr. Sparkles will cut you some slack, since ya know, you did save him from Grim… but you also did hit him with a broom… and insulted him… I am so fucked, aren’t I?
…
…
You eventually got to the entrance of the maze (the labyrinth?), and sat down on a bench outside of it, huffing and puffing. “Does everything want to–” you stopped that sentence, knowing your luck, if you said it out loud, it was bound to happen. “Never mind that…”
“Never mind what?” A voice said to your right.
You shot up and whipped your head around, coming face to face with a door(?) with a face. “I-”
“You never mind!” A second voice said, and on your left was another door, sending its counterpart a dirty look. “You know better than to meddle in such affairs!”
The right door, which was a weathered red, rolled its eyes at its neighbour. “Bah! Curiosity killed the cat-”
“But satisfaction brought it back. I know!” The left door, a brilliant blue, huffed. “Ignore them, they do this to everyone.” They sneered (if doors could sneer) to their neighbour. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trick people?”
Did I just get in between these two during something?
The red door got offended, turning even redder by some means. “Like you should be one to talk! ‘Oh my dear traveller, one of us two doors is a liar and does nothing but lie! Do not let my neighbour fool you!’ It’s the same every single time with you!”
It’s giving bitter divorced couple who for some reason still live with each other—
“I would do no such thing!”
“LIAR!”
“NO YOU ARE THE LIAR!”
You groaned, their bickering was starting to give you an all too familiar migraine. “Will both of you shut up?!”
Both of the doors tch-ed at your remark but stopped their nonsensical arguing, and you rubbed at your temple, easing away the building tension. But they turned their attention to you, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something else… doors couldn’t be fae… right? The book didn’t say anything about talking doors… could they be portals? It couldn’t be that easy, nothing was ever that easy.
“Did anyone ever teach you any manners, mortal?” The red door huffed, turning its nose up at you.
The blue door looked at you with a similar expression, “Yes yes, awfully rude you know! Lucky it's just us though, and not the mistress. Oh ho ho! She would turn you into a newt for that!”
I wasn’t too wrong about them turning me into a slug I guess… would a newt be an upgrade in this case? Since they have bones—
“And you’re a door,” you deadpanned, “you both haven’t been polite either, ya know?” You had better things to do than kissass to two sentient doors, so no, you weren’t going to be polite. “So the sooner you tell me which way to go, the sooner I’m out of your… splinters?”
The doors grumbled but didn’t raise any objections.
“As you may have overheard, one of us is a liar,” they both said at once. “One of us will lead into the labyrinth, whereas the other will lead you back to where you started your journey.” They both chuckled, looking at you with amusement. “It is up to you to decide which is which.”
You looked between the two doors, weighing your options. “And what if I just walk into the labyrinth? What happens then?”
The blue door hummed, “Well, it would eat you!” … why did it sound all too cheerful about that?!
“So I don’t really have any other option then, do I?”
“Nope!~” They both gave you cheerful smiles, and you were half tempted to go off into the woods and find that magic portal by your lonesome. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with a pair of divorced doors, and a human-eating labyrinth that belonged to some mistress that would turn you into a newt if she felt like you were being snippy with her.
You sighed. Of both the doors, the blue one seemed more sympathetic, whereas the red door was more harsh… “Okay, red, open sesame!”
The red door looked shocked that you picked it over its counterpart, but it opened nonetheless. The blue door grumbled that you had chosen its neighbour over it, but stayed quiet.
When the door opened, all you could see was black.
“Do you actually lead anywhere?” You threw a rock in, but no sound came out.
The red door was silent though; apparently, when it was open, it couldn’t talk. And while you didn’t miss the bickering, you really wanted answers, and the blue door wasn’t saying anything either.
Sighing, you walked forward, hoping that you had chosen the right door. Once both of your feet were over the threshold, light started to filter in. Did I choose right?! But before you got too ahead of yourself, you felt the ground give way under you, and you were falling; falling towards an all too familiar sulfuric-smelling bog.
“SHI-”
…
You were back in the bog of eternal stench, and spitting the rotten egg-tasting water out of your mouth again. And this time, Mr. Sparkles wasn’t here to make you magically smell better either. Nope, you were stuck smelling horrible until you could find a change of clothes.
Crawling out of the water, you grumbled and hissed curses towards that red door. Of course, you would end up here again! Why not! Laugh it up, Underground! Laugh it up!
“I hate it here,” you seethed, wringing out as much water as you could from your clothes.
Shit, the book! But the book was still dry… Fuck you, book. Fuck. You. Of course, the book would stay free of wet and stench, whereas you were now shivering, since the water was frigid, plus you were angry and embarrassed that you had been deceived.
It was no use though just sticking around here lamenting and fuming. So you hoisted yourself up and marched back to the labyrinth; and even though the trip was a good three hours, your anger and pettiness drove you forward.
“YOU-” you hissed, pointing a finger at the red door.
The red door looked at you, looked to its blue neighbour, and then back at you before it started laughing. “I see someone took a little dip-”
You got up in its face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You turned around and marched up to the blue door. “Open up,” you cracked your knuckles, not breaking eye contact. And either your intimidation worked, or your smell was so offensive that the door just wanted you gone; weaponizing the stench works wonders against prissy doors.
“Th-” You remembered your first blunder; do not thank the fae. “You are too kind.” And you stepped through the blue door, which was as dark as the red one, but once the door closed, you didn’t find yourself back in the damned bog. You were now in the labyrinth, and perhaps a step closer to finding a way home.
…
…
…
Lilia found himself in the bog, looking around for the Beastie (you). But they were nowhere to be found, save for a wet spot on the grass and some torn-up moss.
“Ah,” he suppressed a laugh, “they fell in again, I see. Poor Beastie.” At least they’ll be easier to find.
He summoned a glass orb, a looking glass of sorts, and looked inside of it. “Show me the human,” he whispered, sprinkling it with some green magic. “And show me their location.”
The glass orb multiplied into three. The first orb showed a close-up of your face, an annoyed yet determined look on your face. The second orb showed that you were surrounded by hedges. And the third and final orb showed that the hedges were actually the Queen of the Underground’s personal labyrinth.
“… at least they can’t really run off anywhere.” But this wasn’t a great turn of events. Many people, both human and fae alike, had tried their best to navigate the labyrinth. But it was a fickle thing; you had thirteen hours to reach the castle, and if you didn’t within those thirteen hours? You would be stuck within it, as one of the beings that tried to stop trespassers from reaching the castle.
Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose, “Beastie, what have you gotten yourself into?” And he turned into a bat, flying off to try and find you. While the Queen did want you apprehended, Lilia would rather it be with his own hands, and not be held liable for any further actions or decisions you made.
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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @cheezy-moon, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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Author's Note; After a little break from writing this fic, I'm back! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was only for the pay-phone/raven and the divorced bickering doors!
If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!
#twst#twst x reader#twst x gn reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x gn reader#now we can get into building the relationship between these two fufufuffufufu#mr sparkles = lilia | beastie = reader#i wrote 1K of this back in September and the rest in the past two days#too be fair i was feeling a bit burnt out so i did need to step back a bit#but i've been feeling inspired again!!! yippee!!!!#raven; mmmmmm MONEY!!! 'to continue your call-'#*sad trombone noises* reader ended up in the bog again; will they ever smell good again?!#a break from the horrors i'm writing for the twst murder mystery au; back to the labyrinth au!!!#twst labyrinth au#and my fun tags have returned too!!!!
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"Sans goes aggressive over-protective mode when Papayrus and Mettaton starts to date" WRONG Sans immediately starts to calculate all the ways he can hilarously mess with them because he is the Older Brother.
#he is 100% supportive about this he is just a gremlin#He immediately fakes to not know Mettaton#He starts to play “careless whisper” with the trombone while they are flirting.#He does the Trombone “Sad Sounds” when a bad flirt lands.#undertale#papyton
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This isn't just Mirror Madness, now it's Mirror Sadness.
womp woooamp
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thinking about deans tummy rn . His little pooch…….
#soft and warm#that one post about “when i read about deans flat stomach or abs my pepis makes a sad trombone noise#ssorry i don’t remember the url of who posted that#but yeag#deans tummy…………..#he is full of microplastics and forever chemicals#<33333333333333333333333#dean#spn#ham.txt#supernatural#dean winchester
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pretty sure I know what they want me to say here but I also know in my heart what is the actual true answer. #optimization
#this is my real life#actually i think everything should have a sad trombone sound to go along with error messages#chop chop developers
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ERIDAN: are you an f5 key? because that ass is refreshing
SOLLUX: are you a 2oftware update? becau2e not riight now.
#submission#homestuck#incorrect homestuck quotes#eridan ampora#sollux captor#erisol#mod terezi#quick someone bust out the sad trombone music
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This is something I did not ask for and that we do not need.
#he speaks#technology#if I want a sad trombone sound by god I will commit to the bit and do it myself
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For T/F: for some reason I assume that you’ve probably had some experience (either of yourself or maybe people around you) of falling into the “gifted” category, and I feel like there’s probably some strong opinions on that maybe?
True!
~
This one is true in a complicated way.
As a child, no one thought I was gifted until I got into school. I was hyperlexic, reading at a level far beyond my age-range (I read Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species at the age of 8/9, sitting on the library floor with the dictionary next to me so I could flick to different words and understand what they meant).
I was tested for giftedness/IQ but failed every test pretty spectacularly (we didn't know how many learning developmental disorders I had at the time, but it was a lot, and these tests in the 80s didn't favour any child with dyscalculia or severe dyspraxia, or ADHD / Autism for that matter). So everyone kind of officially knew I was pretty stupid, and the librarian was like 'what the fuck' while I quietly went through as many nonfiction books as I could because I found the fiction section mostly very boring.
Recently (like literally a month ago) when I was diagnosed with L2 Autism, I was also diagnosed with 2E, which is Twice Exceptional - or 'gifted but developmentally disabled.' It's a nice way of saying 'oh you're exceptionally smart (at certain things) and you're exceptionally special needs.' This also explains why I tested the way I did as a child, and kind of recontextualised a lot of things in my life, but I had to wait until I was 43 to learn that about myself, and until then I've always viewed myself as someone who was very stupid, but very good at pretending I wasn't simply because I could memorise things / facts I'd read in nonfiction, and I've been reading it since childhood. It's probably going to take a long time to think of myself as intelligent at anything other than words and reading.
So no, I wasn't raised as a 'gifted' child. I was raised as a semi-stupid child who read too many books. My sister tested as gifted and went into academic programs (and that definitely created some issues for her!) and I didn't, and started spectacularly failing maths in high school, which tracks for my level of dyscalculia.
It wasn't until university that I realised I could be clever at things, but again, I still credited that to 'I read well because I've been doing it a long time, and anyone - except for someone with dyslexia - could do this, this easily, and someone with dyslexia could still do this with the right supports.'
So I do have experience of falling into the 'gifted' category, but only for the last four weeks. It's also come with the diagnosis of L2 Autism, so mostly I'm just reminded at how fucking incompetent I am at generally being alive and functioning in a society.
~
From the true/false meme!
#asks and answers#memey goodness#if you'd asked me this literally 4 weeks ago#i would have said false#i have no experience with being gifted aslfkjdsa#i have like a few days of experience of people thinking i *might* be#and then the tests making a sad trombone noise#and the teachers being like 'that was unexpected but oh well'
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🛹🛼
lots of talk about why Mike reacted so negatively to this when he reacted so positively to this:
can we talk about how the Rinkomania reaction started in between those two things? right here:
at mid-season-2, all the times Mike has seen El use force against people have been super justified because there were lives at stake (or at very least, like in the case of tossing Lucas in the junkyard, she thought there were)
then Max wipes out, and goes "ooh it was like a magnet pulled on my board" and instead of taking that the way anyone would - that this annoying girl fell due to lack of skill and is trying to save face with a stupid excuse - INSTANTLY Mike suspects El. El, who's currently dead or lost in another dimension or whatever, must actually be lurking around here with nothing better to do than trip Max.
ok 100% accurate but I'm offended nonetheless
why did he jump to that conclusion?
the last time some inexplicable, physical but nonlethal hijinks befell someone he was talking to, he turned around and saw who was responsible:
so when Max fell, in that same gym btw, of course his brain goes turn around, look at what you seee
this was Mike learning that, oh, El isn't Superman and doesn't reserve her powers only for perfectly morally justified situations, but can in fact lash out about anything that bothers her, like the disturbed child she is.
BUT I don't think he actually processed that at that moment. he wasn't thinking about how Max did absolutely nothing that could be misinterpreted as a threat, and didn't deserve this. at that moment, any thought of justice for Max, or scrutiny of El's motives, was easily and completely drowned out by excitement that El might be there.
so later Mike sees Angela screaming on the ground with El standing over her, and remembers he has already seen El respond to a non-life-threatening situation with a level of force that didn't make sense to him.
plus he has that whole protection thing and I think seeing anyone get hurt is paladin catnip to him (see him rushing to Max's aid two seconds after telling her she's annoying). he has that instinct to support whoever's been knocked down undeservedly - yeah he knows Angela is an asshole, but El's response seems overboard to him, so while he doesn't go as far as rushing to Angela's side, he doesn't rush to El's side either.
he keeps distance between himself and El at the rink and leaves her sitting alone in the most literal demonstration of not wanting to take her side. he seems irritated in the car and downright pissed at the dinner table. I think it's true that he was overwhelmed in the moment and scared not of El but of the situation, but I don't think that's all of it, because then why would he be pissed.
maybe he's seeing patterns and thinking back on how Max didn't deserve that at all, and how neither of these things were very Superman of El and he's a bit disillusioned that she doesn't live up to the flawless superhero moral code he assigns her in his mind.
while the Angela thing seems WAY harsher than the Max thing, can I also say that a lot of that is due to circumstances?
Angela's pouring blood, wailing, an ambulance has to come, there's lots of witnesses. it looks baaaad. Max isn't injured, isn't too bothered, and there are no witnesses or real consequences. shrug. but it easily could've gone down much more like Angela. you can absolutely break a bone or get a concussion from a spill like Max's.
Max isn't hurt, so Mike just leaves the room, and nothing ever comes of it. compare to Mike watching an inevitably-to-be-arrested El sit stewing in the aftermath as dozens of Angela's sympathizers watch her get checked for brain damage by EMTs.
it's little wonder Mike has such a different reaction in the moment, even though El's actions in these two scenes actually isn't totally night and day.
El's force was more deliberately focused on Angela, and I think El did intend to hurt Angela in a way she didn't intend to hurt Max (El yoinked the skateboard rather than bodily targeting Max herself, but her intent was still to make Max fall, and she could have been comparably injured as a result).
like, up til the point of "El gets mad and lashes out" these are similar - the way the aftermath unfolds just happens to take the best and worst possible paths, respectively.
and before you want to point out that the Angela thing was a reaction of anger and the Max was just about puppy love jealousy, no, that was anger. Max is literally the first thing El thinks of when Kali says to think of something that angers her.
tldr; rinkomania is just a nightmare remix of the gym scene to Mike
#tfw you find out your gf is in fact just some girl with massive psychological issues and not superman (sad trombone)#forgot what my point was halfway as usual but here are my brain crumbs about the situation#analysis#mine#eleven#mike wheeler#like. haven't we all done something wrong that was nbd just because nobody got hurt and nobody saw it#but if it had gone down differently it could have been an extremely big deal#imagine: Max falls breaks her arm screams teachers run in Mike has to stay with her til medics arrive a small crowd gathers#El feels bad and homerbushes.gifs outta there. the hand Max tries to shake hers with later has a cast on it#also rinko is so funny because Mike thought til 1 minute ago that El and Angela were besties#so he sees her bash her face in and is like 'girl your friendmaking skills are so questionable but ig it works for you. max misses you btw'
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