#I’m stubborn as fuck. I have very rigid thinking patterns.

[spinogreen0iq]

If I had just a tiny bit malice in me, y’all it would be so over.

[foramomentonly]

3.08 Alex Meta

I don't usually do meta and maybe all of this will be a very, "Duh, Nat!" moment for you. But 3.08 was a huge Alex episode for me. I feel like I understand him on a totally new and deeper level, and I'm seeing a direct character line from S1 and to some of the questions and issues many of us had in S2.

Spoilers for RNM 3.08 below.

As I might have said ten thousand times previously, I relate to Alex a lot. His compartmentalization, his emotional distance, his seeming inability to correctly identify and name a damn feeling. Like, same, man.

But 3.08, in my opinion, completely blew that all up. Because Alex is pretty clear in his story: he has all the emotions, he just no longer feels safe acting on them. And when I think about Alex in the flashbacks we've had, that totally tracks. Teen Alex is a walking ball of emotions and he is not afraid to act on them. His whole vibe is "pissed at the world," which, valid. He's angry, so he punches Kyle. He's moved by Michael and his situation, so he offers to help. He unapologetically feels and acts on those feelings. He's in love, so he keeps seeing Michael even after the events of the shed (Rest on a Bloody Bed of Rusty Nails, Jesse Manes). Alex is brave and bold with his emotions and even though Jesse and others are no doubt giving him hell for it, he doesn't stop.

Cut to S1 Alex, who vacillates between wildly passionate, closed off, angry, ice king. He pushes and pulls with Michael and we don't really know why and it's an emotional whiplash that carries over into at least the beginning of S2. I always understood this as Alex not knowing his own feelings, acting in the moment on what he wants and later talking himself out of it, denying himself out of fear.

But that's not it, is it? Alex is fully aware of his feelings, apparently, he just doesn't see acting on them as safe anymore. He gets home and he runs into Michael and everything, all that love and desire is still there and his impulse is to act on it and he does, but his experiences have taught him that his emotions are dangerous. And if all he's ever done is try protect Michael, he does that by trying to lock his feelings for Michael away, pull back when he loses control and acts on them. He's still learning how to do this in S1, and that pull toward Michael is strong (cosmic, almost?) and I think that's where that back and forth comes in.

None of this is that new, though. What's new to me is the understanding that hiding/feeling/repressing emotions isn't instinctual for Alex! It's learned behavior, and not even from his time with Jesse, but this experience in war.

And let's talk about that story, huh? A lot of us assumed (myself included) that Alex's rigidity, his tendency to bulldoze over other people's boundaries and take charge is born of stubbornness, of believing he's always right, that he must be in control to feel safe. But what I heard Alex tell me in his story is fuck, no, he's knows how wrong he can be, he's failed on a massive level already, caused hurt and pain to himself and others. He's not a hero. He's a mess. (We all knew that. But a lot of us operated on the idea that Alex didn't know that about himself.) Everything he does is to avoid causing further harm and chaos in the future.

Obviously, he still does. I don't want to discount that. And he's still accountable for it. But I think it's significant that Alex isn't operating from a position of superiority after all (I mean, he probably still is a little, he's Alex, his class privileges are still there), he's operating more from a place of knowing how completely and utterly he's fucked up before and wanting desperately to avoid that in the future. And to him, a man who lives his whole life in extremes (fucking drama queen, I mean lol), the way to avoid that happening is to go in the total opposite direction. To push down his natural emotions, ignore his instincts because they can't be trusted (Which, hey, maybe that's why he's got Kyle on speed dial every time he has to make a decision!), and strategize the shit out of everything. And it scares the fuck out of him that Michael, the person he most wants to avoid experiencing harm or being put in danger, acts on feeling and instinct and all the things that Alex believes caused his own epic failure that cost literal life and limb.

I used to think Alex and Michael were opposites, one a live wire of emotion and instinct, and the other the keeper of approximately three feelings and he hates them all. But I think now that they are extremely alike. They're both driven by emotion, instinct, heart, but Alex has forced himself to ignore all that and think like a computer, and Michael still lives his life by his them, still inherently trusts them. I've always loved and admired that about him, and I think that's part of what Alex loves, too, even though it scares him.

There's a whole nother meta's worth of stuff in the episode of how Alex's journey to trusting and working with Michael as an equal parallels Liz's storyline with Rosa (Liz and Alex are so alike, I die!) and yet another about the phenomenal pattern of growth with see from Malex, and especially Alex, throughout the episode. For a literal, step-by-step breakdown, ask the incomparable @adiwriting very nicely, who went OFF in the best way about it last night in our DMs. Like she could draw you a diagram.

This episode just gave us so much. Damn. It wasn't perfect, of course, and I would have liked to see Alex and Malex's development and growth happen over the course of the season, not jammed a single episode. But I love what we got and what it's taught me is I didn't know shit about Alex, but I had a lot of fun learning.

End meta.

[robininthelabyrinth]

extra 2 for Tedious Joys - warnings for adult content, WRH/Lao Nie, slightly dubcon, not necessarily in the same universe as the previous extra, possibly AU

ao3 link

-

Humans had three modes of dealing with evil things: fighting, feeding, and fucking.

Much to Jiwei’s disgust, it seemed that her Master could not be dissuaded from treating with Wen Ruohan through the last of these.

You’re disgusted any time I pick the ‘fucking’ option, her Master said tolerantly. He was watching Wen Ruohan’s body as the other man moved through the crowd like a shark amidst waters filled with fat fish, merciful and restrained only in his current lack of interest and yet convinced of his superiority. You’re barely more interested when I pick ‘feeding’, and my body would collapse if I stopped doing that.

I’ve heard good things about inedia, Jiwei retorted, but her Master only laughed. You agree that he’s evil, though.

Jiwei, sweetheart, you think almost everyone is evil.

Because they are!

The ethical frailty of humanity was practically a given at this point: one need only look around this sect conference to find examples of it, the hall teeming with the stench of moral corruption. Sect leaders who would sell their daughters for an iota more of power, who had blood on their hands from executions conducted behind closed doors, liars, thieves, cheats, crooks, evil –

To be both good and evil is natural, Jiwei, even for us two. It’s not worthy of a death sentence.

Jiwei was not arguing in any seriousness: she had long ago reached the conclusion that it was not a debate that her Master was inclined to yield upon, and of course he had long ago won the argument. After all, her Master had done his share of terrible things too, in his time, to defend his sect and his family as needed, and she had been at his side, aiding him as she ought.

She was not as rigid as Baxia, that fearsome child, who longed only, as her master did, for righteousness; she would not argue with her master the way Baxia did, quibbling over mundanities as if the human world were something that could be judged through the merits of a saber. But then Baxia had Nie Mingjue, whose soul was very near to a saber itself – unbending in its ferocity and clear in its simplicity – and Nie Mingjue listened to his saber in a way his father did not, too close and too compassionate, too forgiving of his inhuman partner’s flaws and too willing to take the time to convince when he ought to simply order.

Perhaps it was simply different for the two of them.

Baxia had roared to life with an ancient soul, a queen among sabers, and even Jiwei would not so easily choose to face her down, for all that she was more clever and more practiced, more thoughtful and more reserved, her power the greater, but her potential worse. Luckily it seemed unlikely to ever become an issue, what with Nie Mingjue earnestly trying to teach Baxia the meaning of being filial to one’s elders, as if age were at all relevant to a saber spirit.

Still, even if she were not Baxia, Jiwei had her own pride: she was still a saber, stubborn and inflexible, and so she said, Even Lan Qiren thinks you shouldn’t fuck him.

Jiwei rather begrudgingly liked Lan Qiren. She hadn’t at first, of course – not that she’d noticed him much when he was just a fellow cultivator her Master had taken a shine to, a teenager with a strange manner and his own pride, but later, when her only thought of him had been to wonder how he would dare attempt to interfere with her connection with her Master – but he was stubborn in his own way, obstinate, uncompromising, tenacious.

There was even unexpectedly some rage in him, buried deep beneath his rules and the scars left on his heart – not enough to do anything with it, the poor soul, but enough to show that he knew what it was. Jiwei had finally started condescending to give him a little of her time and attention, maybe a little of her rage that he always seemed to be seeking: at least he knew that he needed it.

Lan Qiren doesn’t want to fuck anyone, her Master said, fond as always. He, at least, would be more than happy to fuck Lan Qiren if the other man were interested. He doesn’t understand the appeal, so how can he really make a judgment on the matter?

Jiwei wasn’t sure that was how it worked – her Master respected Lan Qiren’s judgment on all sorts of things that Lan Qiren didn’t personally appreciate, and in all honesty she suspected that her Master was thinking with all the brain in the lower half of his body again – but she also didn’t actually care all that much.

Wen Ruohan hates Lan Qiren, she said instead, not for the first time that day.

Her Master frowned, as he did before. I don’t know what’s gotten into Hanhan over it. He even went and got Qiren drunk again, and I thought he swore never to be in his vicinity while drunk ever again, after last time.

Lan Qiren, when drunk, dropped all façade of caring about other people’s lack of interest in his favorite subjects, and also any reservations about using his strength and body to pin people into place – he’d held Wen Ruohan down by the arm, and ended up at one point in his lap to loudly insist that he pay attention because they were just getting to the interesting part, despite assurances by Wen Ruohan that it was not interesting, had never been interesting, and that he would shortly begin to bite off his own limbs in order to escape if it did not rapidly become more interesting.

Her Master had gone over at that point, nominally to assist but actually in order to enjoy having Lan Qiren on his own lap, and yet somehow that had only made Wen Ruohan’s expression worse.

Humans were so confusing.

Didn’t you tell Lan Qiren that you’d rescue him sooner if he got drunk again?

Her Master laughed, but he put down his drink and went: Lan Qiren had drunk four toasts, which was three and three-quarters more than he could tolerate, and he had cornered some poor sect leader and started in on some subject on musical cultivation that even Jiwei, who had no ears, could identify as being both esoteric and extremely boring.

Wen Ruohan caught her Master by the wrist before he got to Lan Qiren’s side.

“You should come spend some time with me, my friend,” he said, his eyes intent, purposeful, gaze as hot as the sun patterned on his clothing. “I have scarcely seen you this evening.”

Because you were too busy trying to get Lan Qiren drunk for some reason, Jiwei said scathingly, and her Master shushed her.

“The days in your Nightless City are long and the nights longer, A-Han,” her Master said, turning his hand to stroke two fingers along the underside of Wen Ruohan’s wrist – the other man released his hand, recoiling as if he’d been burnt; he had never grown accustomed to her Master’s shameless displays of affection. “There will still be time for us to spend time together.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes narrowed. “But not now.”

“Not now,” her Master said agreeably. “I promised Qiren that I wouldn’t let him embarrass himself.”

“Someone else could do that.”

“They could, yes, but I’m the one that promised him.”

Wen Ruohan’s lips twisted. “You promise him many things. More than you should, with him the sect leader of another sect…”

“So are you, Hanhan,” the Master said. “And don’t I promise you the moon and the stars, if only I could fetch them down for you?”

The poetry of humans was truly insipid, in Jiwei’s view, and yet like all monsters Wen Ruohan both hated and loved the purity of her Master’s emotions, his heart offered on a platter without reservations.

It didn’t seem to be working this time, though.

“Go to him, then,” Wen Ruohan sneered, his jaw tight from where he was grinding his teeth together. “I trust you will tell me, then, when you finally decide to promise him that I will no longer be sharing your bed.”

I like him when he’s jealous, her Master remarked to her, and sometimes Jiwei thought her Master could be a very stupid man. He’s never more ferocious and passionate than he is when he thinks someone has taken something of his.

Never more dangerous, you mean. You always did like the ones that could and did want to kill you.

It adds some spice to life.

Life is not a food. It does not require spice.

You don’t eat, sweetheart; what do you know?

Jiwei considered this comment to fall into the same category as the one about Lan Qiren not knowing a bad idea just because he was sensible enough not to want to fuck it.

“Lan Qiren has no say in who I allow to share my bed,” he said, and stepped forward abruptly: Wen Ruohan, his senses as always tuned to the highest level of paranoia, instinctively stepped back, and so allowed her Master to corner him up against the wall, bringing their faces level and close to each other until their breath was shared. “Don’t think I didn’t see who was sending all those toasts to him, A-Han.”

“You object?” Wen Ruohan hissed, trying to pretend that he was unmoved by her Master’s nearness – as if anyone could miss the blood pounding through his veins, or the hardness beneath his clothing that her Master deliberately pressed his thigh against in a teasing gesture that made Wen Ruohan inhale sharply.

Wen Ruohan was too powerful, Jiwei thought; his wives treated him like a god, and his concubines like something even higher – he had never been treated so intimately, so recklessly and without care for whether or not he approved, and he was fascinated by it.

“Do you like him?” her Master asked, and Wen Ruohan’s eyes went wide in indignation. “The Lan sect breeds for beauty, and he’s got his fair share of it, even if he doesn’t think of it that way.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“There’s something appealing even in his very disinterest,” her Master mused, and Jiwei resigned herself to hearing this again. “He’s above such things, like a statue carved into the mountainside, untouchable and cold, the stone unyielding, and yet his flesh is as soft as any other man’s – it would give if you pressed on it. Turn red if you dug your fingers in, bruising like the skin of a ripe peach.”

Wen Ruohan’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“You like that sort of thing, don’t you? You like it when people are in pain…you like the rush of power it gives you. There are other ways of having power, A-Han.”

Her Master had thoroughly pinned Wen Ruohan against the wall now, even though the other sect leader’s cultivation was higher, his physical strength above their own. Their hips were slotted together, the two of them grinding up against each other, and Wen Ruohan’s mouth was a little agape, his lips and the tongue between them very red.

“There are,” he murmured, eying her Master as if he wanted to peel off his skin and devour him whole, put him in his belly where no one else would be able to reach him. “And this is his: that even now you will leave me and go to him instead.”

Her Master laughed.

“I need to take him to bed,” he murmured, words deliberately ambiguous, and Wen Ruohan jerked in his grasp – perhaps her Master was not so wrong in thinking that Wen Ruohan admired the coldly beautiful Lan Qiren more than he should. “Why don’t you help me?”

Wen Ruohan frowned, even as her Master stepped away. “Help you?”

“Take him to bed,” her Master said, and smiled as Wen Ruohan scowled at him. “It’ll be easier to carry him with two of us.”

Lan Qiren did not especially want to go with them, eager to continue his elaboration on whatever subject he was on now – actually a method for temporarily cutting off someone’s breathing using sound alone, not that anyone would be able to tell unless they had an excellent understanding of musical notation, esoteric cultivation techniques, and the human pulmonary system – although the sect leaders he had cornered were deeply grateful for the intervention. Still, Lan Qiren was a cultivator of song and thought, his strength respectable but nothing in comparison to martial cultivators like Jiwei’s Master or Wen Ruohan; they were easily able to drag him away despite his protests.

Her Master eased the way further by picking up another jar of wine and pouring it into Lan Qiren’s throat as they fought to get him up the stairs, the additional liquor finally acting to push him from wildness into quietude in a single step: he fell asleep at once, instantly becoming as limp as a fully cooked noodle and just as inconvenient.

“Do you have to deal with this every time?” Wen Ruohan complained.

Jiwei’s Master chuckled. “It helps to have experience,” he said, tapping the side of his nose. “Come, get his shoes off while I get the bed ready.”

“You treat me as if I were a common servant,” Wen Ruohan said disdainfully, although he did kneel and remove Lan Qiren’s shoes. Jiwei almost wondered at his willingness, given Wen Ruohan’s usual self-perception as a soon-to-be deity, or at least she did until he ran his fingers up Lan Qiren’s calf and even up to his inner thigh, his gaze firmly fixed on Jiwei’s Master as if in challenge – he was starting something, of course.

“You can’t make him jump when he’s like this,” her Master said, unmoved by the provocation. “He’s utterly insensate; he wouldn’t even notice if you put your hand on his dick.”

“Maybe I should,” Wen Ruohan said, the implicit challenge now outright.

“Maybe you should put it on mine instead,” her Master said. “There’s a second bed in the room.”

Jiwei did not have eyes, but she could enjoy the expression of shock on Wen Ruohan’s face through her Master’s perception of it.

“You’re not serious,” Wen Ruohan said. He did not sound repulsed by the idea – merely surprised that Jiwei’s Master had suggested it, and more than a little intrigued by it.

“I’ve gone night-hunting with him before,” her Master said. “He understands that men who are not him have needs that must be fulfilled; he’s told me before that he doesn’t mind me getting myself off near him, or even while thinking of him, as long as I don’t involve him.”

“You’re rather pushing the boundaries of that agreement, aren’t you?”

Jiwei’s Master had a smile full of teeth – his own type of shark, his own type of monster. “Don’t you like pushing boundaries the most, A-Han?”

It was things like this that drew a clear line between Jiwei’s Master and Baxia’s, Jiwei thought to herself, amused. In the ranking of things that were dear to her Master, his sect came first, and all else second, even family, friendship, or morality; Nie Mingjue, in contrast, would rank family first, morality second, and sect third, and would never take even minimal advantage of a friend, even when the gains were great and the downsides almost none.

Their power over Wen Ruohan was useful to the Nie sect, and pleasing to Jiwei’s Master on a personal basis; the power they drew out from their dual cultivation beneficial to both him and her – they did, in fact, engage in it on the second bed in the room, her Master’s voice rough against his Hanhan’s ear, spinning fantasy and filth at the same time, both their gazes fixed firmly on where Lan Qiren slept innocently on, detached in his disinterest and unlikely to object to anything other than the sheer impropriety of it even if he awoke.

Certainly that had been his reaction the last few times her Master had brought someone back to the single room at the inn that they had been sharing – not that Wen Ruohan needed to know that he wasn’t the first.

Do you intend to court them both? Jiwei asked, curious. It wasn’t the worst idea, even if she despaired at the thought of there being even more fucking instead of fighting: Lan Qiren’s coolness was a good counterbalance to Wen Ruohan’s heat, even if Wen Ruohan’s viciousness was more their speed than Lan Qiren’s level-headed contemplation and compassion. If he obtained them both, her Master could get the benefits of Lan Qiren’s company and conversation, which he truly enjoyed, and Wen Ruohan’s body and cleverness, and perhaps with two of them at his side Wen Ruohan would finally find himself content with what he had, able to stop his endless quest for more, more, more, the yawning pit of greed that lay beneath his arrogance and drove him to do increasingly terrible things.

Perhaps, if they’d let me, her Master replied. His mental voice was tight the way it always was when he dual cultivated with another cultivator, in the time before he reached release – he would be full of energy in the morning, excitable; their morning training together would be especially good for them both, strengthening them as they shared the qi between them. They’d be a force to be reckoned with, especially with me beside them…Qiren doesn’t like sex, but he’s never objected to romance, so it’s not hopeless. Hanhan could be taught to respect limits, and Qiren’s always been remarkably easy-going with those he considers his friends. It would be a good match. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?

You’ve always had eyes for things bigger than you can swallow, Jiwei said. She would roll her eyes if she had them. Well, good luck. Don’t let it be your funeral.

Don’t worry, her Master said, reckless as always. I won’t.

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Jaune was asked to be the photographer in Jessica's Cinder shoot, and he was more than happy to see her in a bikini at the Beacon pool. When they were done, her method of payment was laying back on a pool chair as Jaune fucked her breasts and splattered her face wit cum. The real Cinder was quite jealous.

So here’s my first attempt at a real smut/non sfw written piece with Jessica Nigri. I’m actually very nervous about posting this. I’ve been working on this for a while, constantly debating if I should even do it the entire time. I really hope this doesn’t make me look like a creep, but I also really wanted to finally try writing more raunchy stuff with Jessica Nigri. 

But I put too much work into this to just NOT post it, so I guess we will all  see how this first one goes and whether or not I’ll do anymore. 

I’ll also be posting this to my Archive of Our Own account HERE.

So you all have been warned, what follows is a sort of one-shot (for now) smut piece of Jessica Nigri. You don’t enjoy stuff like that, you don’t have to read past this point.

*SNAP* *SNAP* *SNAP*

The gorgeous Jessica Nigri stretched her arms out over her head and let out a throaty moan. She was currently standing waist deep in the pool in the backyard of her house. Her stretch also ‘unintentionally’ pushed out her chest, making her red and gold bikini strain to keep her well endowed chest contained. She opened her eyes, revealing that her irises were gold instead of brown, and looked over at Jaune who was so kind to offer to be her cameraman after her usual photographer bailed on her just that morning. 

She ran her hands through her hair, which was now raven black instead of her usual blonde, and held that pose for the next set of pictures Jaune was going to take.

*SNAP* *SNAP*

Jaune, to his credit, did a great job at focusing on just taking the pictures and doing his job. It wasn’t easy. It got hard to maintain focus when Jessica started to pose more and more provocatively. He didn’t stare, but he had to check the pictures to make sure they were okay. With seeing so many sexy pictures, he couldn’t help the hard on that formed in his white swim trunks. He did the best he could to conceal it, but it was pointless.

Jessica saw the bulge forming from the start. She wasn’t offended or disgusted. She know the effect she had on guys and even some girls. She knew Jaune wasn’t a pervert, he just genuinely thought she was very attractive. That made her smirk a little proudly. It was nice knowing he thought she was pretty not just because she had big boobs.

*SNAP* 

Jessica stopped posing and relaxed her body. She sighed and moved towards the stairs of her pool. As she started getting out, she looked to Jaune. “Alright Jaune, I think that’s plenty to work with. Thanks again so much for helping me out on such short notice.”

Jaune looked up from the camera screen, a bit startled by Jessica’s sudden voice. “Y-you sure? We could get a few more if you want.”

“Nah it’s fine. You’ve already taken at least 200 already. Put down the camera and I’ll go inside to get you your money.”

Jaune lowered the camera to waist level, but quickly waved his hand to dismiss Jessica’s. “No no, you don’t need to pay me. I was happy just to help out a friend.” 

Jessica dramatically rolled her eyes at his dismissal. Seriously, he could really be too nice for his own good. “Jaune, I’m serious! You took four hours out of your Saturday off from Beacon to come down to Vale and help me with my shoot. I’m paying you.”

Jaune just sighed loudly. “Jessica, you don’t need to do that.”

Jessica grabbed a towel and started drying off her lower body as she fired back, “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

“I’m serious Jessica.”

“So am I.”

The bickering between the two friends continued for a few more minutes with the same pattern. Jessica would insist that Jaune take money from her, and he would decline each and every offer. 

Their ‘argument’ finally ended when Jaune yelled, “I’m not taking your money Jessica!”

Jessica just groaned in frustration. She was getting really annoyed now. How selfless (or stubborn) do you have to be not to accept money you did a job to earn?!  She huffed, blowing a strand of her now black hair off to the side, and crossed her arms under her ample chest. When her girls got pushed up a little because of that, she looked down at them. Then she got a naughty little idea.

“Oh alright, fine Jaune. You don’t have to take my money.”

Jaune sighed in relief. He didn’t like bickering with his friends, especially over something as silly as this. He knows he did earn the money, but he just wouldn’t feel right taking money from his friends. “Thank you Jessica, I just don’t like tak-”

“You can just fuck my big tits instead~.”

Jessica had barely finished saying her newest offer when Jaune promptly froze and turned bright red. The camera slipping from his stiff fingers jogged some life back into Jaune. He fumbled with the camera a few times before getting a solid grip on it again. He rigidly turned to look at the beautiful woman who just made his heart stop. She looked very amused with Jaune’s panic. She wasn’t laughing out loud, but her golden eyes lit up while her upper body shook a little with laughter that she was holding back with tightly shut lips.

It took a minute, but Jessica finally reeled in her shaking and Jaune managed to calm down his blush a little. Now instead of it being his whole face, only his cheeks and ears were red. 

Jessica spoke first, her lips in a wide and somewhat smug grin. “Wow. That was quite the-*snrk* reaction, ha ha ha.” 

“W-well c-can you blame me!?” Jaune defended himself. “Y-you can’t just go making jokes like that! H-how did you expect me to react!”

“I wasn’t joking.” 

…

Jaune’s head tilted to the side, the blush on his face being replaced with a look of confusion. “Huh?”

“I was serious. I’ll give you a boobjob.”

Jaune had zero idea how to respond to that. 

So instead, his jaw just went slack and hung open in disbelief. Jessica did him a favor and stepped closer to him. She raised his jaw up with one slender finger on his chin to close his mouth. She slid her nail lightly along the underside of his jawline back towards his ear and then up towards his chin again, flicking her finger off when she ran out of track to follow. The small smirk still on her lips, she asked, “So how do you wanna go about it?”

Jaune sputtered while the red coloring flowed back to his entire face, before managing to speak. “Jessica! How could you say something like that?!” 

“What’s the big deal?”

Jaune looked away sheepishly. “Y-you shouldn’t throw your body around like that. I-it’s not right. Your body isn’t something to use like a tool. Especially not for payment.”

Jessica’s brow scrunched up a bit in confusion, before her eyes lit up with realization.“Oooooh, Jaune you’re-” Jessica stopped herself and thought for a bit. He thought that she was offering her body just to pay him back for his help. ‘Oh for the love of-!…Jaune, why do you have to be so sweet and cute, but sooo dense! Okay, blunt it is.’ “Okay Jaune, how about this. I’m going to tell you, very clearly, what I meant by what I said.”

“O-okay?”

“I WANT you to fuck my tits.” Before Jaune could make a sound at hearing this new revelation, Jessica continued. “You weren’t the only one who couldn’t help sneaking a few glances.” 

Jaune’s brow raised in confusion. “W-wha?”

Jessica grinned almost hungrily at him. She bit her glossy lower lip and moved her index finger to point down several times. “Those white trunks of yours aren’t that great at hiding anything~.”

Jaune’s eyebrows scrunched together a bit in confusion. He looked down to see what she was referring to, and promptly turned red.

Jaune had apparently gotten a bit distracted by Jessica because he had completely forgotten about the stiff problem in his trunks and stopped trying to hide it some time ago. Well that problem hadn’t gone down in the least. Jessica’s proposition hadn’t helped either. His boner had shifted and started pressing into the front of his trunks full force, making a bulge that no one could miss.

“So what do ya say~?”

Jaune’s attention shot back up to Jessica. While he was looking down at his own crotch, she had moved very close to him. So close they were almost touching. Jaune had to tilt his head a bit to look down at her. He accidently looked down a little too far though and ended up staring directly down her cleavage since her wonderful, bountiful chest was only an inch away from touching his.

As much as Jaune wanted to, he couldn’t look away. 

Jessica noticed that he was staring again almost immediately. With a smirk, she quickly bounced on the balls of her feet several times, getting her tits to bounce and jiggle beautifully in her tight red bikini top. Jaune’s eyes stayed locked on them. 

“You wanna see if my big girls can help out with your little friend down there~?” Jessica’s eyes had a teasing glint, not that Jaune noticed. He just nodded his head to say yes, or he was still tracking her bouncing tits. Either way, both were good enough for Jessica. She gently took his hand and led him over to the closest pool chair next to a small glass table. 

Jessica turned around and sat down on the soft, yellow cushion on the chair. She had to admit it felt pretty nice against her ass cheeks since it was warmed under the sun all day. She brought hands up to undo the knotted string on Jaune’s swim trunks and gently slid them down. The white trunks dropped to Jaune’s ankles, the man’s breath hitching when they did, and it was Jessica’s turn to stare.

Jaune’s very, very hard cock sprung free, no longer being confined in those trunks that now looked way too small to Jessica. ‘How did they manage to keep this dick contained? It has to be a good seven inches at least!’ The seven inch monster in question stood directly out from Jaune’s crotch, completely rigid and with the head aimed directly at her face.

Jessica stared down the shaft of the huge cock, not blinking. She inched her face closer to it briefly, but she pulled back just before her lips touched it. As much as she might want to, that wasn’t the deal. ‘There will probably be another time for that anyways~.’ Jessica heard Jaune whimper though when she pulled away. She glanced up at him with a small smirk. “Don’t worry Jaune, you’re gonna get something else. I think it will be even better too~.”

Jessica swung her legs up onto the lawn chair and scooted back on it. She arched her back and pushed out her chest before laying down against the inclined backrest. She reached over to the glass table and picked up the bottle of sunscreen that was on it next to her scroll. She hadn’t used it for the shoot, but it was always nice to be prepared for anything. After all, she was about to get some great use out of it now.

She flicked open the lid and turned it over right above her tits. She stared directly at Jaune with complete confidence as she squeezed the bottle and felt the chilly white cream landed all over the top and into the valley of her cleavage. For a good five seconds, Jessica just kept layering up the sunscreen. Finally the long, white stream from the bottle ended with a small pouf. She closed the lid and put it back down on the side table next to the chair. She jokingly cleared her throat and looked back to Jaune. 

With a smile, she grabbed her own tits, almost slamming her hands down on the soft D cup mounds, still covered by her bikini top. Jaune unconsciously let out a high pitched noise when he saw those big mounds flatten a bit under her hands. His eyes stayed locked on her big tits as her hands slowly began to roll them around. The large amount of sunscreen on top of and in between them slowly began to get spread around every inch of her flawless skin, especially in the wonderful valley between her boobs.

Her smooth, tan skin was soon covered in obvious white streaks from the sunscreen being rubbed in just a little bit. The bikini top she was wearing also shifted and Jaune could just start to see the darker skin of her areolas, and her hard nipples pressing against the fabric. 

“That should be enough.” Jessica stopped playing with her own tits and ran her slightly messy hands down her slim waist. She laid back against the back of the lawn chair and pushed her chest out. “Well Jaune, feel free to start whenever you come back to your senses~.”

While Jaune was indeed very distracted by her erotic show just now, he was still very aware of what she said. He hesitantly took a small step out of his swim trunks and closer towards the chair she was laying on, his shins now touching the frame of it and completely naked. A part of him still wanted to decline, another part even wanted to say he’d just take the money now, but those were both very small in comparison to the part of him that wanted what was being offered right in front of him. 

Jaune carefully raised his right leg and climbed onto the chair as well, his knees pressing down on the cushion on either side of Jessica’s thighs. He slowly scooted his knees forward and soon had his hard cock positioned above her chest. He looked down at her, then realized he was still holding the camera. With one hand, Jaune reached over and set it down on the same table that the sunscreen bottle was on. 

With his hands now free, he grabbed the top of the chair’s back above Jessica’s head. He lowered his hips to position his cock at the bottom of her boobs under the middle bikini strap. He looked at Jessica to make sure it was okay. Their eyes locked and Jessica bit her lower lip as she nodded. Without any more hesitation, Jaune slid his cock head into her vast cleavage.

His cock head hit the skin in between her tits and slid up inside with ease, getting both of them to shiver a bit. Jaune pushed his cock all the way through and pulled his hips back. Within seconds, Jaune had started a steady rhythm of fucking Jessica’s tits. Jaune continued to hump into her cleavage, already loving the amazing feeling enveloping his cock from the incredibly soft pillows enveloping his shaft. 

Jessica was also enjoying herself. She looked down from Jaune’s blushing face to her cleavage. She was greeted by the sight of the head of Jaune’s cock popping out, now slick with white sunscreen too. She was pretty impressed that it was big enough to do that. She could also feel just how hot and hard his shaft was. ‘Fuck, it feels like a metal rod! Let’s see how he likes this though~.’

While Jaune did already seem to be in paradise, Jessica decided to make it just a bit more… interesting for him~.

With a smirk, she moved her hands back up to her tits and pushed them together. Jaune gasped as the soft tits that were around his cock started to squeeze down, rubbing the cock between them even more. He stopped moving just to get used to the new tightness. Jessica chuckled as she heard the man above her gasp, letting her know that she made a good move.

Jaune started rolling his hips forward once again, this time needing more force to push into her slick cleavage. Pretty soon, his rolling turned into full on thrusting. Jaune was now literally just fucking her tits without a second thought, letting out small grunt and groans as he did so. His grunts almost drowned out the slick ‘plap’ing sound of his cock pumping in and out between her slippery tits as he thrusted away.

Those weren’t the only noises being made though. Alongside Jaune’s grunts, his cock’s slick ‘plap’s, and Jessica’s own moans and giggles as she watched Jaune eagerly thrust away between her sensitive tits, was a creaking sound coming from the rocking chair they were on. With Jaune’s harder thrusting, the chair had started shaking quite a bit. Jaune had also tightened his grip on the back of the chair, unknowing pulling it towards him with his thrusts. Jessica felt the rocking, but thought nothing of it.

Until Jaune pulled so far that the back of the chair slipped out of the slot keeping its back inclined. 

“Aaaah!”

With a surprised yelp, Jessica fell back with the chair. She let out a small “Oouf!” as the chair flattened out. It now looked more like a skinny bed. 

“Jessica?! Are you okay?”

Jessica, now laying flat on her back, looked back up to Jaune who was propped above her. He looked at her worriedly and had stopped his thrusting. She smiled and nodded. “Yup! I’m all good. Actually, this position might be better~.” Her hands squeezed and rolled her tits around Jaune’s cock, enticing him to continue. “Though, I still haven’t gotten your white stuff on my tits~. So keep going~.” 

Jaune looked at her for a second, but once he saw that she really was okay, he started rocking his cock back into her cleavage again. A few seconds later and he was back to thrusting between her tits as quickly as he had been. The new position they were in was definitely making it a lot easier for him to fuck the sexy cosplayer’s tits.

Jessica didn’t stop helping her girls rub his dick either. Her hands still firmly pushing them around Jaune’s shaft, even sinking her fingers into them a little, making her moan along with Jaune. She glanced over at the table next to them, thinking about pouring some more sunscreen on to help things get really messy, when something else caught her attention.

She saw her scroll though the glass. Seeing that it was more within her reach than the sunscreen bottle, she quickly got another idea. She moved her hand off her left tit and reached over to the table, now using one arm to keep her breasts wrapped tightly around the meaty rod fucking them. She smirked as she started her naughty little plan.

Jaune didn’t see Jessica reach for the table because his eyes were closed, just enjoying his own little paradise at the moment. For a whole minute, Jaune was only focused on pumping faster and faster into her slippery cleavage, his cock still gliding effortlessly into her deep valley. It felt too fucking good to stop now, and he wanted as much pleasure as he could get. 

His heavy balls were sliding along her stomach and slapping into her underboob at this point with how heavy his thrusts had gotten. Jaune scrunched his eyes shut even harder and let loose a guttural moan as he felt himself get right to the edge. He could feel his cock twitch and pulse as he finally hit his breaking point. 

“Fuuuuuuck! Jessicaaa!” Before Jaune even finished shouting her name, he was already unloading ropes of cum. “Uuuughfuck!” As he continued to release ropes of cum out without care, he felt absolute bliss shoot through him. Nothing could have ruined how amazing he felt right now.

For nearly a minute, Jaune kept shooting loads of his thick cum. He felt them get smaller and smaller though, and soon came to a full stop. Jaune panted heavily, coming down slowly from his climax. The best best one he’d ever had too. He slowly opened his eyes finally and looked down, and his slowly softening cock nearly shot back to attention when he did.

Underneath him was Jessica Nigri, covered in his spunk. everything from her head down to the top of her breasts was covered in thick white ropes of his cum. The sexiest part of that though was seeing her happily lick around her lips and scoop up what cum she could into her mouth, all with a sexy smirk on her glossy lips.

Jessica took her hands off her tits and started using them to scoop up cum off her face. She brought her fingers to her mouth and slowly pushed them past her lips one by one, sensually sucking them clean from cum. She moaned in the back of her throat, knowing Jaune was watching her now. 

After all her fingers were clean, Jessica parted her lips slightly and pulled her last finger out of her mouth, pulling her bottom lip down a little as it slid out. She looked straight up into Jaune’s eyes and moaned in a sultry voice. “Mmmmmm~. Delicious~.” Jaune blushed when he heard that, getting a small chuckle from Jessica.

After waiting a couple of seconds to let Jaune calm down, Jessica started to sit up, prompting Jaune to back away from her and sit down on the long side of the chair. Jessica made sure that her bikini top was still somewhat fitted on her breasts as she sat up completely, then swung her legs off the chairs side to join Jaune sitting directly next to him. She stretched her arms up  above her head with her fingers interlaced, letting out a relaxed sigh. Jaune didn’t stop himself from staring at her chest as she pushed it out.

Jessica’s arms fell back down to her side and she gently started to rub Jaune’s thigh with her right hand.  “Mmmmuuuh that was pretty hot Jaune, you have fun~?”

Jaune looked over at her, and eagerly nodded his blushing head. “Yeah, t-that was amazing Jessica.”

Jessica kept smirking and patted his thigh twice with her hand. “Well, maybe that can happen again sometime. Whaddya think of that Jaune~?”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“Well then, I guess we’re gonna have to try to get together more often huh~? But for now, I think I’m going to go take a shower and get cleaned up a bit. You did get me pretty messy~.” Jessica stood up and picked up her scroll. “If you’d like, I have a spare bathroom with another shower that you could use.” With that, she started to sashay towards her house with a sexy sway in her hips.

Jaune started after those swaying hips and committed them to memory. As Jessica slid her home’s backdoor open, Jaune stood up and picked up his swim trunks, covered his crotch with them and jogged to catch up to her. Jessica stepped aside and let him in first, admiring his fine ass as he walked by. ‘I’m gonna have to compare mine with his sometime~. Those are some firm cheeks~.”

With that thought, Jessica stepped into her home as well and closed the door behind them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chime~

Cinder’s musing on her scroll was interrupted as she received a video message. She also groaned when she saw who it was from. “Uuugh. What does that bimbo want now?” Cinder was really tired of being annoyed by Jessica. Jessica had tried to be ‘friends’ with her at first, but now just seemed to just enjoy annoying Cinder whenever she could. Just the thought of her right now started to make Cinder feel frustrated.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably just a waste of my time.”Despite her better judgement, Cinder still opened the message from Jessica, though a bit begrudgingly. After a few seconds of loading, the video started to play and she was greeted by the sight of her ‘counterpart’ Jessica recording herself by holding her scroll out above her. Cinder could see her body was rocking slightly, but before she could even wonder why that was, the camera began to pan down Jessica’s body.

Revealing a large cock quickly pumping back and forth between her sunscreen covered breasts. 

Cinder’s head recoiled back slightly at seeing such a thing on her screen. Because she was farther away from the screen now, Cinder finally noticed that there was a small caption in a tinted dark blue line on the bottom of the video.

[I hope you like trying to catch up Cindy~. I think I have a good step up on you~.]

Cinder scoffed after reading that caption. “What on Remnant is she talking about? What could I possibly need to catch up with…. her…. on…” Cinder’s question trailed off as the camera angle panned again, completely flipping around this time. It landed on the face of a man propped above her. 

Not just any strange man either. But Jaune Arc. The Jaune Arc that she had been trying to get to fuck her for weeks, with zero results. And now here he was on her scroll screen, currently fucking this bimbo’s tits!

The video ended while Cinder was ranting in her thoughts. It started to replay on a loop, but before it played the first five seconds again, the screen went blank. Then started to show cracks as Cinder slowly crushed it in her grip. She abruptly stood up and tossed her scroll on to the bed she’d been on. 

She straightened out her red dress and started to pace towards the door. “Fine. If that slut wants to try to steal what I want, I’ll happily make her realize her mistake. You wanted me to ‘catch up’ Jessica? Well, I’ll make you regret those words.” 

With a determined fire blazing in her eyes, she left the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She didn’t pay any of the scared students she passed a second thought. She had to think of a plan of how her desired fucktoy to get back, and rub that bimbo’s face in it when she did.

[anxietycalling]

Ugh. Ugh. It's been a week since the Atomic Mom went off and, like, I still feel weird about it. I keep not doing anything about it thinking that that's progress because I used to be volatile and reactionary, but is it? Or my silence making me an accessory to her transphobia?

I thought cutting her out would make me feel better, and for a second it did, but I am anxious about it so I keep checking her page like that's going to give me some insight. Spoiler alert: it doesn't. And I just keep thinking about all the things she doesn't know about or doesn't want to know about - Husband, my name change - and it's a mess. It's a mess!

Part of me keeps thinking I should write her a letter, or something, but then I remember the way she absolutely refused to read anything I write despite admitting I had talent. She found something I wrote once, when I was 12, and I used curse words in it so she decided I was a terrible pornographic miscreant forever. I think I was 18 the first time I even wrote a sex thing.

And, like, what would I even put in a letter? "Here's a list of all the horrible things you said to me? Here's my updated birth certificate but also please take me out of your will?" Saying something feels like a nuclear option, but not saying something means she gets to live with her blindfold on pretending she's the greatest mom ever.

I know, I know, this is probably stuff for therapy, but it's too fucking expensive right now, and one of the cats needs a vet visit because she broke a tooth, and I think I am moderately spiraling because in the past I would ask her for help but I don't want to "use her" - her words, not mine.

I don't know. It's complicated because at one time she did give me literally thousands of dollars while I was ruining my life in California. She did bail me out when I needed it, even if she did think I was on meth. (Please note, I have never even done one drug. I am a recovered alcoholic, but that's it, I spent a year drinking my feelings and hated it.)

But also! Also, she tried to get the SPCA to break literal federal confidentiality law to punish me, tried to have me arrested for animal hoarding, all because the drug addict who lived in an apartment before us left her two pregnant cats behind. We tried our hardest to rehome those fucking kittens and keep them healthy with no one helping us. Like, the majority of my money from working went to cat care and she still thought we were just doing drugs all the time. I don't even know. I don't even know!

I am so not the drug sibling in this dynamic. My older brother sold drugs up until he moved out the second time, he sold them from our garage and she never even blinked. My older sister got busted with weed and a bong in the front seat of her car, even did jail time for it (which shouldn't have happened, but still!) and that was just fine. But I constantly try to be a better person and I'm just, like, evil or something?

I know I am never going to win her approval. She sees me as something less than human, okay, some kind of Frankenstein monster.

Some days I wake up and just wish I could hurt her as big as she hurt me. I think maybe that makes me a bad person. I don't know. Can you even hurt someone who doesn't have a heart?

It bothers me a lot that she's never once asked about Husband or my dating life or, like, anything. She wants the beautiful pictures from my sisters' weddings and all the trappings that go along with it, but my actual marriage is a sham to her because I didn't ask her fucking permission. And, like, hell yeah I ran away from her house to be with Husband, because he's awesome, but also because we both recognized if I didn't get out of there I would be dead by now.

Like, I was essentially a prisoner in my own home. I had to account for everything I did to her, constantly, and every dollar I spent, and every phone call and communication. It's exhausting. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to escape if they could? Who wouldn't take the opportunity NOT to be constantly surveilled?

We have never once talked about it, but I know she installed keyloggers on all my devices up until I moved out at 19 and cut her off the first time. I am still constantly terrified that I'm being monitored. I still have trouble even letting Husband use my phone or laptop just in case. He's very considerate and he knows how hard it is for me, but sometimes I wish I could just let him google something without feeling like I need to hover over him the whole time.

I wish I knew what to say. I want to write her a letter, something really scathing, but I know it's useless. She'll just use it to make herself the victim, like she always does, and just add it to her arsenal of why trans people are the enemy and only transition specifically to hurt her.

What is there to say?

Hey, you say and do really hurtful things whenever I try to open up to you? And every time I do you act like I'm personally attacking you with my happiness, so don't call me your kid anymore unless it's to call me your son who you love and support. Don't send me your pity money on holidays so we can sidestep the fact that my appearance in your family tree is an embarrassment. Just don't, okay? Don't act like our family is good and normal when you can't even acknowledge my existence, when you lie to all your friends about how I've been and who I fucking am. Don't act like you didn't try to squash all my interests constantly, or treat me like a deviant, or tell me my first tattoo made me look like I belonged in jail.

The tattoo thing makes me really mad, actually. When things were briefly good between us I had a really cute mother-son tattoo idea. I wanted her to get R2-D2 and I'd get BB-8, because we both love Star Wars and BB is the little baby droid. Maybe it's a good thing we never did it. I don't get why tattoos are this awful, ugly thing to her when she literally got her belly button pierced during her midlife crisis. Especially cause any time I got a new piercing she freaked the fuck out. I got my septum pierced at 16 and hid it from her for years. I was 22 when she found out and her reaction was exactly what I thought it would be. The piercing wasn't even out, it was just the shadow of the retainer in my nose, and she acted like I'd tattooed my entire face or something.

I am so angry that my mom never told her shitty friends I'm trans. It shouldn't be my job to out myself to her redneck friends. It shouldn't be my job to put myself in danger constantly to justify my existence in the hopes of eventually getting the crumbs of affection she's willing to throw my way when she feels guilty enough. It's supposed to be her job to protect me. It's supposed to be her job to protect me from feeling bad, and that extends to the dysphoria of being dead named when I am a literal man with tattoos and a beard and enough back hair to knit a sweater out of.

I just! I wish she'd come out just once and say "I am horrible and transphobic and don't think you should be allowed to exist and be happy, and I think your body is gross." Like, it wouldn't be so bad if she would actually admit what is going on here. It's been 15 years and she is not trying at all.

I wish I could figure out what the fuck to say. I want to just shove everything into an envelope and send it and be done with it. The ball can be in her court to decide what she wants to do.

The worst part about all of this is that I can almost see it from her perspective. Well. Her perspective if she were a human being and not an emotional vampire. She's never been able to look past herself and see situations as they actually are. And I feel bad for her sometimes, because her sisters have fulfilling lives and leave her to do the crappy stuff like caring for my grandparents. I feel bad that she's probably jealous of how close my aunts and uncles are with their kids. But she doesn't realize that that's her fault for being so rigid and unforgiving and stubborn. If she were willing to change, or admit fault at all, we'd be a lot closer.

My brother still cries about her and why she doesn't love him sometimes. He's still looking to fill that hole where parental love should be. He's repeating our parents' patterns because he's hurting, too, and until our mom learns to be a human person he's just gonna keep getting hurt.

Times like this make me really wish there were an easy solution. I've read so many books and articles on estrangement I could be an expert by now.

Is it bad that a very petty part of me just wants to post more pictures and tag her on Facebook to make all her friends have to see it? Is that something? I know I shouldn't actually do it lest she cause a huge shitstorm, but it would feel so personally satisfying for a minute before the regret and panic set in.

Maybe I will print out that thing she posted and just literally mail that to her along with whatever letter I end up eventually writing her.

[lulusoblue]

Headcanon: Casey Jones being on the Autistic Spectrum

I see plenty of neurodivergent headcanons for the turtles galore, but never for any of the human characters. In all honestly, saying one of the turtles is on the autistic spectrum is iffy and uncomfortable to me at least because it’s sorta implying that said autism would be the result of a mutation caused by an external element. Because it’s not like we’ve had shit over some dickhead portraying autism as a side effect of vaccination rather than it being a mental disorder that’s as embedded in our genes and beings as internal organs and a massive part of who we are as people. also fuck you wakefield

And so thinking about it more, it just clicked that Casey could fit an autistic headcanon. So here’s a list of things about his character I believe fit such a headcanon based on personal experience and from other autistic people I’ve known:

• Apparently the writers put him at around 17 years old, a year older than April, with some intent that he might have been held back during his education (probably to tie into him seeking April for tutoring). I don’t have any knowledge of American education beyond secondhand information I may see on the internet or pop up on my dash, so my only knowledge of being autistic in a learning system built around neurotypical students is from brief personal experience. Neurotypical education sucks when there isn’t enough awareness of learning difficulties or the teachers don’t have enough training to know how to handle it. Casey might have trouble with his education because he may have difficulties trying to pay attention and absorb information without the tools or support to help him focus. This can get you labelled as just bad behaviour or being dumb/stupid. I sure as hell wasn’t able to follow lessons in school until I finally had someone who listened to why I didn’t like lessons and found them hard to understand. We don’t have any clue as to when Casey was held back if this concept still applies in canon, but being held back might not mean he just didn’t care to study or doesn’t have the smarts to pass. Granted it gets harder to care about learning when you have trouble understanding and your educators don’t bother to help you so much as call you lazy. Which brings me to my next point.

• Casey’s interests and knowledge in gadgets, vehicles, and metalwork. The boy knows his stuff when it comes to Mad Max-looking makeshift weaponry and devices, which is clear from his decked out bike and the crude taser that he’s managed to strap to his arm without frying himself. He worked with Donnie to rig up a supercar as a hobby and helped pimp up the Party Wagon. And he’s still flunking trig. (so’s April but shhhhh that was just a Season 1 thing) Casey seems like a very visual learner in this case: he picks up on things through observation and is self-taught on what interests him. For all we know he figured out cars while being cooped up on a farm with nothing better to do while one of his terrapin friends was in a coma. I’ve ended up doing that with some programs I use or with life stuff in general. Manuals are boring and slow and easy to lose focus on. Maybe look up a couple of video tutorials for something but most of building skills and interests is self-teaching and trial-and-error. (my experience of video editing and art programs is “what’s this do and can i figure out what makes it tick without looking it up”, which is an approach to new interests I think also fits Casey). Likely not something specific or common in autistic people, but figuring things out in such a way has been a thing that popped up for me and a couple of old friends. What I’m saying is Casey made that new mask after half-watching a couple of cosplay tutorials and winging it with some scrap.

• Casey wears those gloves and that headband all the damn time. Even when he’s eating pizza, he’s eating it wearing gloves that have probably been worn working on his bike, wielding a hockey stick/baseball bat that’s likely bashed sweaty heads in rain two weeks ago without being washed, and just the day-to-day things that would get those gloves sweaty or grimey or icky. He wears that headband at all times, even when he’s wearing a mask thank would probably fit better if he took that band of material off of his head. What do his headband and gloves also have in common? They’re articles of clothing that usually have elastic to stay in place. Sure canonically they’re just there to fit his grungy look (get to that hoodie in a second), but digging myself deeper into this headcanon i got to thinking they might also serve sensory/stimming purposes. If there’s something that I think is one thing autistic people have in common or a feeling they share, it’s fiddling/fidgeting and certain sensory things to some level: e.g. I usually wear loose tops because i like fiddling with the hems and corners of my clothing. Some people wear tight or loose clothing based on how they process the sensation of skin against different type of clothing. Casey never taking off his damn gloves or headband could be seen as him liking the sensation of the elastic in them around his wrists and forehead. He probably pings the elastic as well because that’s fun too when you’re bored and need to fiddle.

I refuse to believe that he has never washed that hoodie. I mean yeah the turtles have smelt worse living in a sewer but Casey is a Human who has spent most of his life around Humans and his Human father would probably have burnt his clothes by now if Casey never washed the stink out of them. That and Casey is a hockey player, and I imagine stinking clothes is an annoyance that comes from most sports. Those paint stains on his hoodie I think he’s leaving there on purpose, like he’ll wash his clothes but no dad his clothes get washed separate because he can’t wash his clothes with your clothes because you use stuff that lifts stains and that’ll get rid of the paint splats that he likes on his clothes and why does he want paint splats because he does and they look nice and he probably won’t get the same splatter pattern again if he tried and shush dad this hoodie stays the same because it has to because shut up. We don’t really see Casey tagging anything regularly so unless it’s because they don’t change the texture on animated models because what’s the point it’s not a cgi blockbuster we’re making here Casey probably keeps his paint splattered hoodie like that because it looks nice and it’ll stay nice dad. It’s a Thing.

• Casey constantly refers to a love of heavy metal music. Too much sound for an autistic person can end up in sensory overload and that fucking sucks. And in general just the world around you can suck and you wanna shut it out because ugh. You know what helps? Headphones and really loud music. What genre has really loud music? Yup.

Casey having a social battery. He just pops in and out of the show all the time because the writers dunno what do with him shrug so yeah. Autism likes to play up the variance of a person’s social needs and wants and limits. You want to be friends but you just can’t be asked to be with people right now. You get this surge of wanting to hang out with friends and be loud for a bit, and then you have this mood where you just want to not exist or just not do things. Basically like this:

“raph great to see you i love your face” “whatever weirdo”

[dude where are you] [home] [you’ve been at home for three days] [i’m waiting until i stop hating faces to talk in person again]

If anyone has any other things to add to this headcanon, please do share/add onto this post. Now if you’ll excuse me i’m gonna dig myself further into this headcanon.

EDIT: I forgot another point I wanted to put in and also @a-specforest added some cool addon tags so broski if you don’t mind imma put them here too

• #okay so one symptom of autism is speaking in ’pre learned phrases’ #and casey has a ton of catchphrases • #sometimes speaking in a tone that doesn’t match the conversation? #casey does that a lot too • #he seems to have a few hyperfixations #in season 2 he’s practicing hockey late by himself #and the working on cars that you mentioned

1) how else would he come up with Goongala of COURSE!!! That and pre-learned phrases are great to have when spontaneous speech is a bitch and you trip over words and stammer. not that i would know anything about that nooo We’ve already heard him muddle up words in the moment (I think he said jumbled up “racism” later in S4)

2) Tone control is something I’ve dealt with, too. Apparently I have resting bitch voice so I’ll say something and get asked if i’m in a bad mood or snapped at for “being rude”. Also knew other autistic people who would have ranges of tones in certain convos too, e.g. one always sounded happy and chipper and laughed a lot even when something wasn’t particularly funny, one person’s tone of voice went everywhere it was hard to tell what their feelings were even with the context of conversation. Casey’s attitude and tone in conversation, even serious ones, might be an indication of that, I agree.

3) Oh yeah, he definitely fits hyperfixation. There’s his hobbies, and also there’s how he sees his future. When he and April are in the park for their first study session, he’s got two clear ideas for what to do with his life; Hockey Star or Bounty Hunter. With him immediately trying to play hero when confronted with a walking talking tank of organs his bounty hunter fantasy may have something to do with it. He’s reckless and headstrong, but it also lends to his fixation on one of his dream careers; if fighting a monster that he’s confronted with something he sees as a step to bounty hunting, he’ll likely put up his dukes and get melted because ACID HANDS I have definitely known people who were determined on doing something because it was what they wanted. It might’ve come across as stubbornness or rigidness depending on what it (even something as simple as just doing something like a chore a certain way), but in context of ambitions and their future they were pumped as hell to take the steps they needed to take to do what they liked and what they wanted for themselves. They didn’t care about what people thought of them even if they didn’t pass as neurotypical and would get stares on the street. Not sure how they would react if say culinary career path involved fighting mutated food, but considering the show itself is an action-adventure cartoon with mutant turtles I think we can give Casey a pass on that lack of realism there. we begrudgingly give the writers passes all the time so why stop now

Aaaand the point i forgot to put in my original post:

• Casey’s less-than appropo reactions or attitudes in situations possibly links to difficulty reading people, being empathetic or understanding social cues/priorities. Reading and understanding facial expressions and body language can be a bitch if you’re autistic. There’s even a learning software program a couple of students from my school would use in one-to-one sessions that specifically addresses this for those who find it THAT hard to tell what another person is expressing. It’s especially troublesome because empathy can be a confusing thing too, because it can go from you not really having any empathy to you having so much that you think you’re hurting the feelings of a pair of shoes because you chose to wear something else that day which totally isn’t the extreme i experience at all hahaha help i’m mentally apologising to a boot Casey doesn’t appear to take things seriously in dangerous circumstances the majority of the time, nor does he appear considerate of others at other times. It’s a lot of confidence and certainty that things will turn out OK (with a heaping spoonful of “self preservation instinct what self preservation instinct”). It’s not always an appropriate attitude to make jokes and quips and tease and make jabs at people, but he HAS taken things seriously and shown worry/sadness at appropriate times. He’s really quiet and almost numb when the subject of his family’s fate comes up in Invasion, and he was surprisingly the only one to be most affected after watching someone get mOLECULARLY RIPPED APART. From experience, both personal and through observation, figuring out how to react and respond to things when you don’t really know how to is a pain in the ass and often distressing because you feel bad for not knowing. Sometimes you resort to humour to lighten things and try to ease tensions, sometimes you have an internal screaming match with yourself and panic and go through an archive of potential reactions because what the fuck would apply here, or sometimes you just shut down or just don’t react like it’s not really a big deal or even happening. Or you end up going through verbal barfing and dig yourself deeper into a hole of instant regret because you’re making yourself look like an ass when you don’t want to why is this so hARD. I think Casey would fall into the “address things with confidence and cockiness” kind of reaction pool, because it’s an attitude he’s comfortable with and how he better deals and processes things. It’s not to say he doesn’t have some empathy or disregard for other people’s feelings (hello Buried Secrets), it could be that it’s not comfortable territory for him even when he wants to be serious/emotionally supportive. did any of that come out right fffffffffU

• Casey’s small social circle and it possibly being by choice. His best friends are the girl who he met through tutoring in a subject she was failing before and four giant turtles who are trained in ninjutsu. He only mentions having one friend before, a friend with whom he had a falling out, and he didn’t seem to like Irma all that much (you can say it’s because “she’s a third wheel on dates” but even outside of that he didn’t seem to get along with her much). With things like hyperfixation and the like making a vast group of friends is tricky. Being autistic might mean the friends you choose to make have lots of interest in common with you rather than just being someone you get along with. Not to say being autistic means you are limited to a few friends. I’m no expert on autistic social lives, I can only draw from firsthand experience. I found trying to maintain a number of friendships difficult and often overwhelming so at some point in school I stopped trying to make friends, with the exception of a couple of people I liked and had common interests with. I chose to keep my social circle small because the thought of making lots of friends and keeping in touch with them all and remembering who likes who and what overwhelmed me and made me nervous as a child. Still kinda leaks into adulthood because I don't have many friends outside of the company I keep on tumblr. In this autistic headcanon, Casey’s very small social circle could be by choice. He doesn’t mention having any other friends besides one previously, fixates on April (and yes I am knocking the romantic aspect out the window for this) after approaching her for tutoring because he found her cool and likes hanging out with her (and probably saw kicking a mutant’s ass as common ground/bonding too), hung out with her even when a person he wasn’t keen on (Irma) was also there, and even when he’s introduced to the turtles and befriends them he still appears to be platonically closest to April arguably, depends on how the writers want to write him that week. Considering how the love triangle bullhockey has been given little to no reference as of late, his concern for April in Tokka vs the World and his annoyance at Leo’s teamup picks in Tale of Tiger Claw might be more because he can’t be with his favourite person. (and yes that can be a Thing too) He might also fixate on having April’s company because she isn’t much of a social butterfly herself outside of the friendly neighbourhood mutants living in the sewer. Compare how many times we see him hanging out with the turtles minus April versus when April is present.

[doomsteady]

One of my favourite non-spoilery bits from @a-candle-for-sherlock​‘s veryveryverysoon-to-be-finished gift fic. I’m so hyped to publish this, I can’t wait! :D

John’s face goes slack. “Sherlock… No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Sherlock pouts. “But you haven’t even looked in the bag.”

Without breaking eye-contact, John digs into the bag and pulls out a pair of swimming trunks not unlike Sherlock’s own, except for their pattern. He shakes them in the air for emphasis. “This is not happening.”

“They’re your size,” Sherlock explains, playing it cool. “I think they look rather fetching. And if you don’t like the banana-print, they have other patterns available. I nearly went for a pair with palm trees and coconuts, if that’s more—”

John drops them back into the bag and crosses his arms. “First of all, I never want to know how you knew what my size was.”

“That’s easy. Using any easily-measured edge or surface as a point of reference—”

“And secondly,” he adds, jerking his head towards the Tiki bar, “that sign over there says the pool’s closed. Bad luck. No swimming today.” His cheeks pull tight with the satisfaction of an easy victory. He really should know better by now.

“I know what it says, I put it there. I told them the water was contaminated with Cryptosporidium.”

The smile drops off John’s face like an anvil. “You… contaminated the pool?”

“I didn’t do anything to it.” Sherlock clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Do keep up, dear. I just told them it was contaminated so that we could have the place to ourselves for a while. People will believe anything they’re told with the right stolen uniform and an authoritative voice. Now, hurry up,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “Put the trunks on and come over here.”

John grabs the bag and tosses it towards him. “I’m going back to my room. Have fun up here by yourself.”

He turns to leave. Before he can step away, Sherlock lunges and grabs him by the upper arms. The element of surprise gives him the advantage and he begins walking them backwards, dragging John, fully clothed, towards the pool’s edge.

It takes a few seconds for his intent to sink in. When it does, John digs his heels into the floor. His forehead creases with growing concern. “Sherlock.” His eyes grow impossibly wide. “Sherlock, don’t.” He shoves against Sherlock’s chest, but his grip is like a vice, and every effort to push him away only brings John helplessly along with it. “I’m warning you, Sherlock. Don’t you bloody dare!”

Sherlock grins.

The jig is up. All pretence falls by the wayside as John’s hands pry at his grip and his feet shuffle along the wet-slick floor. Sherlock takes another long step back. “We’re going into the pool. Your only choice is this: Trunks, or clothes. You have five seconds to decide, or I will make the decision for you.”

“I’m not going in—” They take another step back, and John glances down at their feet in alarm. Sherlock’s heels are dangling off the edge. John’s voice climbs comically high as Sherlock sticks one foot out over the water in an exaggerated gesture. “Sherlock, for Christ’s sake, my phone!”

He rolls his eyes and plunges a hand into John’s shorts. John’s legs go rigid. His Adam’s apple bobs as Sherlock pulls the device free of his pocket.

“There,” he says, flinging the phone safely onto the deckchair with his clothes and towel. Sensing this as his chance to escape, John twists away and tries to make a run for it, but Sherlock quickly recovers, capturing him in a bear-hug from behind. He holds John’s squirming body tightly to his chest.

“Fuck off!” John growls. “I said I don’t want to go in the bloody pool!”

“Last chance, John. Trunks or clothes?”

“Neither!”

“Stubborn as an ox,” he sighs. “Clothes it is, then.”

John lets out a pitiful yelp as Sherlock tips them backwards without further delay, letting gravity do the rest.

“Operation Waterwings” (Temp title) will be a ~35k friends-to-lovers fic, loosely centered around a hunt for a human trafficker on the luxury cruise ship, the MV Aurora. But a problem closer to home threatens to sabotage the case when John reveals an unexpected weakness. He is forced to face his worst fears as Sherlock underestimates just how deep the cracks go, leaving their friendship — and ultimately their very lives — in danger.

Featuring comedic dialog, suppressed trauma, fluff, angst, peril and a very happy ending (no smut!) this is going to be (and already is) the very best thing I’ve ever written, so I hope that people enjoy it! It’s taken a while to get done, but there’s just two final chapters left to be sent off to my amazing beta reader and then it will be posted on AO3 and linked here.

Stay tuned!