#she's been so lonely and scared

[deadlyflan]

Ah! My favorite scene is from the TMNT Chain Reaction fic that I wanted to talk about when I started this Ask-A-Thon. It's my favorite interlude because it's the first full-sensory experience my OC, a mutant turtle girl named Dinah, gets of the TMNT core cast.

She's been recovering from a medically induced quasi-cryogenic sleep. Her eyesight has been greatly reduced. She's not in full control of her limbs. She's been bed-bound while the restorative process slowly brings her back to health.

The TMNT family has been treating her with kid gloves. Not only is she medically fragile, but she's the first girl mutant they've ever encountered. Out of respect and reasonable worry, they've minimized physical contact, tried not to crowd her, and generally been very careful about their interactions with her.

While that's polite and good--because they are good boys, these 1990s TMNT movie-verse turtles--Dinah's lived experience has been with an exceptionally tactile pile of sisters back at her home laboratory. Dinah, with her vision reduced to extreme near-sightedness and her mobility reduced to near zero, has been getting more and more distressed by the LACK of contact in this new place with its new people.

EXCERPT OF (draft)SCENE::

The men moved so quickly! Her eyes refused to focus, but even if they had been cooperative, Dinah wasn't sure she could have kept up. Dark, blurred shapes were moving and talking at the doorway. ‘Mike’ had appeared on the mattress at her left. By the time she registered his presence, suddenly the first man was much closer.

They’d confirmed they were turtles when she last woke, so the colored bits on their round heads were probably hats. Now that they were at arm’s length, she could tell that the first was blue and the one on her left was orange. Good! She could use the hats to tell them apart when they weren't talking. 

“I'm going to lean you forward a moment while my brother sets up the pillows behind you. Is that all right?" Leonardo stood near her hips. He had previously picked her up a few times in getting her to the bed but this would be the first time she was awake and conscious enough to ask about it.

Both men were much larger this close, and definitely the same kind of strange-smelling turtle as the one who held his hand to her cheek. She could not distinguish their individual scents, though. They mingled and merged with each other and the rest of the room, but the flavor and textures her nose reported added to their imposing auras. They waited above her and she squinted to make sense of how their hats worked. Where were these giant turtles’ eyes? 

Michelangelo cleared his throat. Dinah’s silence had stretched and left Leonardo standing there awkwardly. Something had confused her. All they needed was approval to get her settled.

"It'll only be for a moment. You’ll be able to sit up on your own." Leonardo wasn't sure what had derailed her, but for a split-second she managed actual eye contact, and he could feel his cheeks heating. He ignored his body's reaction to the awkwardness--his only option with Michelangelo kneeling right there on the bed. 

Dinah’s attention snapped back from wherever it had wandered. "Oh. Yes, sir."

Mike snorted. "That's no ‘sir,’ that's Leo.”

Caught off guard by the ‘sir,’ Leonardo was grateful for Mike's interjection. "Michelangelo’s right. No need for formality with my brothers or myself. Let me just lean you forward first."

Leonardo leaned down, folded back her blankets just a bit, and slid a hand under each of her arms. Her under arm skin slipped beneath his fingers like silk. There wasn't a spot on his entire body with scales so smooth — well, not anywhere a gentleman considers while helping a bedbound young lady. He cracked down on that train of thought immediately. He eased her upright. She struggled for a moment to keep her head at the right angle, but got it under control before he could change his grip. 

He could feel the bones of her upper arms. If anything dampened inappropriate reactions, that did. Some human, possibly one he had known and trusted had raised her in captivity for years and fed her the bare minimum. He held her upright effortlessly, but his thoughts now focused on the coming information. Anything she could tell them would help free the other turtles and take out Perry and anyone assisting him.

Dinah marveled at the warmth radiating from his hands. Not overbearing and hot like human hands, but gentle and permeating like a nice lamp. He held her upright effortlessly, as if she were a stack of fluffy towels. Finally sitting up, her blood pounded in her head and she reeled in a swirl of strong arms and warm hands.

Michelangelo made short work of the pillows, mounding them up like a wall with a concave impression that would cradle her shell. Bonus, it offered support for her head if she needed to lean back. He was an expert at this arrangement; it was hands-down the best for binging movie marathons. "All set!”

Leo flashed his brother a tight, grateful smile over Dinah’s head. He was back in control and very ready to move into the planning portion of all this. "Thanks, Mike. Can you pull those?,” he pointed with his eyes. He indicated the waterproof layers beneath her and Mike caught on quickly. "I'll make sure she stays covered and move her backwards with you.”

Leonardo slid one hand further back to cradle her shell and let her lean back against his forearm while he pulled her blankets up as high as he could. Only inches from her, he addressed her once more. "OK, Dinah. You ready? On three. One. Two. Three."

He casually lifted her just an inch or so. He moved her easily with one arm around the bowl of her shell and the other pinning her blankets high on her left side as he dragged her backwards in concert with Michelangelo.

Dinah held her breath. He was enormous! Every time he moved closer, she reassessed her estimate of his size. She had never known a turtle with shoulders so broad. And he was definitely a turtle. His front plates brushed hers when he first lifted her. It grated on strange nerves like two teeth touching unexpectedly. She shivered at the sensation. Her head fell forward and bumped gently off his jaw and shoulder. His skin pressed against her cheek and she felt his firm muscles shifting beneath his scales. 

His scent surrounded her. Undeniably turtle, but absolutely nothing like any of her sisters. His musk flooded her nose with a rounded, dark scent that clarified what she’d smelled in her blankets and in the room. This, though? It snapped into focus the way her eyes would not — she had simply never been close enough to perceive it properly.

Oh, he smelled so healthy and strong; the kind family must take good care of him! Dinah breathed him in because he smelled new and strange and pleasant on a level she couldn't describe, but mostly because his scent was the same general shape as her sisters’ even if its textures and colors were all unexpected and different. She ached in the back of her throat and down into her chest. It was so close. Almost like being home. Almost.

She was sniffing him. Dinah was—was more than sniffing. She was breathing obviously, mouth open right up against his neck! Leo felt heat surge across his face. His brothers warned him about innocent, sleepy sniffs! Not… this!

Leonardo settled her against the pillows as quickly as he could without jostling her. He gulped a deep breath out of nervousness as he pulled his arm away. This close to her, he got much more than he had bargained for.

At this range, he understood what he did not get by sniffing near the doorway. Her scent was subtle, but there was almost a taste to the air. The same way you could smell the coming snow. The same way he could pick out each individual brother in a pitch black melee. The same way he knew when a brother was actually sick or just faking. Something lit up in the back of his mind that screamed, ‘GIRL.’

Leonardo's blush kept right on marching. It rolled from cheeks to beak to forehead to neck. Dammit. He breathed out and retreated, worried he’d overstepped somehow, but he paused and frowned. There had actually been a subtle sour note to the end of the smell, like an unpleasant aftertaste. To her scent. Something was off. She wasn't healthy.  No kidding, she wasn’t healthy. He could see she wasn't healthy. He knew she wasn't healthy. It was just beyond bizarre to have his nose confirm it.

Leonardo rallied, trying not to let his thoughts show on his face or carry into his voice. Stay on target. "Are you better now, Dinah? Can you tell my family what you were telling me? About the buyout date?"

2. I would love to say that, 'yes! I use advanced techniques like foreshadowing and symbolism all the time!' but honestly, I'm more focused on making sure everything that's supposed to happen happens and everyone's reactions make consistent sense.

3. My process? I daydream the SHIT out of it. Play through the scene--don't like it? Brain Etch-A-Sketch! Shake your head and try it again. I have a bunch of paper journals where I trial different ways a scene could go. Write in pen and never look back. Just play and replay and spin it around and write it again. Does it feel better this time? Cool.

Day 3

What’s your favorite scene you’ve written? Why is that one your favorite?

Do you use symbolism and/or foreshadowing often? Why or why not? If so, give an example if you’d like.

What is your process like when coming up with a story?

[kingkatsuki]

One of my absolute favorite “cliche” tropes is amnesia fics where reader has been dating character for years, but they forget and then they can only remember dating their ex. So it’s like they go back to the ex because it’s all they’ve ever known, and their current love has to cope with seeing the love of their life in the arms of another guy.

I could read that trope a million times over and never get bored or think it’s too repetitive.

[pinkfey]

i may be obsessed.

[gregmarriage]

are things going good for me, if i’m dreaming about moving out, but in a healthy way, not in a like ‘a runaway from home and get fucked up’ type of way? and i don’t feel trapped here anymore, i feel like, maybe, the future could be good? *vomit noise*

[foxgirlmoth]

I wish strong feelings and emotions had a better way to feel like they translate to physical space. For me, personally, I get that shit cranked to 11 and if I can't get that shit out there and verbalized or shown it ends up making me cry. Fear about loss and change and thinking 30 years into the future? Cry. Have so much love in your body at once and can't let enough of it get shown to those who matter to you? Cry a whole lot. I used to put it towards art and especially personal poems or made up song lyrics or something but idk. I can't be staying up sobbing at 4 am due to random thoughts. Its always when I feel like I'm doing my best that this happens, idk if its just processing everything.

I know my emotional regulation skills aren't the best and I often go from a thousand yard stare to crying or a laughing fit or something. I don't want to be like this really, and often times this does happen when I think about loved ones a lot when I'm alone and I just end up wishing I was around someone I can feel loved by and love so much. Maybe I just want to be anywhere besides this 'home' where I know I'm actively seen as a nuisance and treated as a lesser person.

[narrativeats]

whenever i mention that i am bisexual my mom's face just goes 😐🫥 for a second and then tries to act cool it's hilarious and also very disheartening she is pretty ok with other lgbt people and supports them but when it comes to me it's like she accepts me despite it or thinks im not serious and ignores me but i've learned to be content with that

[desastre-fag]

thinking about the years ive wasted putting medical/legal transition on hold in hopes my parents would come around to be there and support me for it just to not even be able to feel comfortable telling my dad im changing my name legally (soon!!!) and for my mum to say shes not gonna try to stop me but isnt actively supporting me. i waited for nothing and i dont think they'll ever change so i wish i didnt live with them but at the same time i dont have a job or a lot of friends so theyre kind of my only connections in life rn. something about your parents becoming weapons against you the moment you become something they werent hoping for.

[legaylity]

I wish those tropes of your soul mates name on your arm or first words were real. At least then I'd have confirmation that no one would ever love me the way I want. I wouldnt be so desperate to change my body to hate myself less and only making it worse every time i fail. Most of the time I accept it and I'm fine it's just that little worm of hope won't die. At least if that was real I'd have a blank wrist to remind me not to be stupid.

[letbuckfuck]

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[thebleedingeffect]

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[zincbot]

been playing dredge! i really love it

[scrapimmortal]

i feel like i’m in the minority of the hotd fandom who doesn’t mind a lot of important plot points hinging on accidents/miscommunication, like luke’s death being an accident and alicent misunderstanding viserys’ last words. i love dramatic irony and i love greek and shakespearean tragedies. the characters are doomed from the start and the audience knows where the road is heading, but the characters misread the signs and walk straight towards their doom. like someone said on the true hellsite (twitter), everyone knows romeo and juliet, and they both die because of a misunderstanding.

alicent misunderstanding viserys is actually very much about their scene together in episode three, where he talks about how he always wanted to be a dreamer, and how he dreamed of a male heir wearing the conqueror’s crown. and we know what he means on his deathbed, but is it really so much of a reach that alicent hears what she hears? i don’t think it is. and it’s the deepest tragedy that this is what finally pushes her to one side of her internal conflict. alicent was finally starting to feel like herself again after rhaenyra’s speech and i think she did mean it when she said she’d make a good queen. i also think she doesn’t believe aegon will make a good king. but so much has happened between alicent and rhaenyra, and in the back of her mind she always fears for her children’s survival. so when viserys says what he says, her sense of duty tips the scales. and we know her decision will not save her children.

i mean it’s okay to like what you like and wishing alicent had been ambitious is fine but i’m just a sucker for tradedy

[kevinsteen]

[thedevotionaltour]

i love radio my best friend radio forever i hold my dreams of radio in my heart forever forever forever i owe my life to radio

[haemosexuality]

these past few days i have been uncharacteristically. emotionally open. w my friend and it has me thinking about how truly for all of my life i just did not expect anything from anyone

[tragedykery]

brb going insane about sabradaz 👍