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bluedalahorse · 10 months ago

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A highly incomplete introduction to AuDHD for YR fans who want to write more Sara Eriksson

Greetings, friends! In my time in the Young Royals fandom, I’ve seen a few people mention they were interested writing Sara but they didn’t know how to approach her neurodivergence, or that they find it intimidating. I figured it might be worth compiling a post where I share both ADHD and autism resources I’ve found helpful, as well as elements of my personal experience I draw on when writing Sara.

This post is by no means exhaustive, and I could probably say a lot more. But I figured I’d get it out there in case it was helpful to anyone else.

Part One: Resources and Such

Yo Samdy Sam is an AuDHD vlogger who talks about her experiences, and I find her video about how autism and ADHD show up together pretty informative. Since Sara is both it’s good to have a grasp on these nuances! Yo Samdy Sam’s other videos are also ones I’d recommend.

I’m autistic, now what? is also a good channel to check out for someone talking about their day to day experiences of autism. Her videos are a little longer, but she focuses often on how things have changed from her childhood to her adulthood, which can be helpful if you’re thinking about Sara at different ages/writing flashbacks/working on fic set in the future/etc.

Chloe Hayden, who stars in another teen drama called Heartbreak High, is both autistic and ADHD, and very fun and positive. She presents quite differently than Sara does—lots more talking and energy—but I think she’s a good example of every neurodivergent person presenting differently. Also, people should watch Heartbreak High and write me some fic where Sara and Quinni meet because I want it.

How to ADHD is mostly geared toward practical life skills when you’ve got ADHD, but it doesn’t neglect the way those interact with emotional well-being. Sara might try some of these strategies while working on her school work and chores, either because an adult recommended she do so or because it’s part of a system she worked out for herself. Also, the videos are perfectly designed for ADHD brains, and i have acquired many ways to self-accommodate by watching them.

Jessie Gender is autistic and does commentary about lots of nerdy things and trans rights. I really liked her video on The Queen’s Gambit where she talks about autistic girls and sex. If you’re planning to write spicer fic about Sara (which people should write more of imo) then Jessie might be a good resource!

Marieke Nijkamp is a multiply disabled author, and one of her disabilities is autism. I still have to get around to reading her novel length books but her short story “Better For All the World” made me cry and is one of my formative sargust mentor texts. I really recommend it if you can get a hold of the anthology The Radical Element. (Although, heads up, the story deals with the Buck v Bell case of 1927, which is difficult subject matter.)

Disability in Kidlit has some great resources on writing autistic characters from a craft perspective. If you’re going to write specifically from Sara’s point of view, or even if you’re not, it’s worth reading this article about the autistic voice in fiction and this article about humanizing autistic characters. Other articles on the site are also great!

I’m going to talk more about my personal experiences under the cut below…

Part 2: My personal experiences & takeaways

Sooooo if you’ve met one AuDHD person, you’ve met one AuDHD person. I can’t really claim to speak for all AuDHD people, and I’ve only recently gotten my diagnosis anyway. That said, a lot of my own personal experience colors how I write Sara. So in the interest of transparency, I’ve gone ahead and listed some of the things I’ve thought about when I write her.

An important note before I get started—this is not, actually, meta or analysis of the show. I’m not trying to tell you want I “really” think is going on with Sara Eriksson, or what the writers intended, or what the show is saying. You may read her differently, and I’m sure your interpretation is just as informed by your own experiences as mine. So please don’t take this as a criticism if your interpretation is different.

What I am explaining here instead are the ways that my personal experiences as an AuDHD person have influenced my perception of Sara, which in turn translates to how I’ve made sense of her storyline and written her in fanfic. None of these are “excuses,” but they are explorations. You can look at it as me examining my own thinking and writing process. I’m also opening up about some of my experiences and being a little bit vulnerable. If you have questions about any of these things below, or you want to know more for your own fic, you are always welcome to message me. I may not be able to get back to you right away but I can help however I am able. There are also some things I might feel more comfortable discussing in depth one-on-one, so direct messages might be better in that case, too.

Anyway, let’s begin…

Polarized strengths and weaknesses: In my own experience as an AuDHD person there are some pretty dramatic contrasts between what I’m good at and what I suck at. I’m in the 99% percentile in some skills and the 2% percentile in others. This adds up to stuff like, I read the Sherlock Holmes stories for the first time when I was eight and Les Misérables when I was eleven, but I cannot drive a car or learn a choreographed dance no matter how hard I try. This is inexplicable to some people because they’re like, omg but you know all these advanced words! Surely if you can’t drive a car, it’s just because you aren’t trying hard enough! Likewise I think it makes sense to write Sara with a spiky profile of her own, and have characters react to that accordingly.

Perceptions of maturity: AuDHD adults aren’t children. AuDHD teenagers aren’t children either. And yet part of ableism is the infantilization of AuDHD people. I don’t have a lot of huge narrative squicks, but this is one of them, and it’s rooted in frustrations I’ve had over people treating me like I’m still a child. I always write Sara as the age she’s intended to be in the fic. If I see fanfic scenes or headcanon scenarios where someone is treating Sara like she’s five, and that’s spun as positive or never questioned, it can make me really upset and it’s an immediate back button. This is something I would recommend writers be on the lookout for if they’re incorporating Sara into a scene. Maybe this one bullet point is spinning a little far into criticism of other folks, but I think if I could communicate one thing to other people writing Sara, this would be it.

Special interests/hyperfixations: The thing about special interests is that autistic people often turn to them to replenish their energy and get their nervous systems back to a state of equilibrium. (For instance, me writing this post right now about my blorbo Sara Eriksson is me engaging with a special interest to put my nervous system in a state of equilibrium and put energy back in my body.) Sara’s time spent with Rousseau isn’t just wonderful because she loves horses, it’s also something that’s probably helping her recharge after a complicated day of navigating social situations at Hillerska. This is why she panics at the thought of losing Rousseau. Now, there’s still issues here in that Rousseau isn’t actually Sara’s horse. And I do think many teenage and adult autistics with low support needs, like Sara, understand that they can’t engage with their special interests all the time. But in order to write and understand Sara, I have to understand that she’s counting on Rousseau and horses more generally as something that helps her self-regulate and stay grounded. (In Heart and Homeland I also added art as one of her hyperfixations, so she often draws to recharge and make sense of things.)

Alexithymia: Alexithymia is essentially a trait people can have where they struggle to read their own emotions. It’s pretty common in autistic people and other neurodivergent folk; I have a mild version of it. For me, tuning into my emotions is a bit like trying to figure out what song is playing on a staticy radio. I might have to wait and “mess with the dial” a bit before I can fully understand what I’m feeling in a given situation. The question “how are you?” is a bit of a nightmare for me sometimes. Because my alexithymia is mild, I usually can figure out what I’m feeling in time, but I still often need extra effort to discern the nuances. I tend to apply this trait to Sara when I write her, mostly because she seems to need to sit with her feelings to understand how they’re affecting her. This is most evident when she’s trying to figure out if she like-likes August, though it comes out in other ways, too. Sara might just need a lot of time to process her emotions. Even when she’s showing her emotions and in them, they might take a lot of time to leave her system, and she might not catch on to how they’re affecting her right away. In Heart and Homeland, part of the reason Sara keeps a diary in the first place is so she can sort through what she’s feeling.

Heightened empathy: There’s an old stereotype that autistic people don’t have any empathy. This is not true, and some autistics even have an excess of empathy. I would argue that Sara (at least the way I interpret and write her) is one of them. This may seem counterintutive to some, as I have seen people argue that she is insufficiently empathetic to Simon and/or Linda. I see it differently, however. In my own experience, having an excess of empathy doesn’t always mean that I come across as loving and sweet to the people in my life. Sometimes it can make it so you’re so full of feelings toward others that you can’t act. I often function clumsily in conflicts, and feel like I’m caught between different parties, especially if it’s a situation where everyone appears to be hurting. It’s enough to make me shut down and not do anything, or even side with the person who to everyone else is obviously wrong. Especially when I was a teenager, the answer about “who to side with” in a conflict wasn’t always clear to me. For instance, in college, I dated a girl who constantly belittled me and many of my friends, and I let her get away with it because I was sensitive to the ways she was genuinely hurting about life. I am not proud of it now, and I did break up with her eventually and made efforts to patch things up with my friends when I could, but it also took me two and a half years to get there. Thanks to life experience and therapy, I am now better at recognizing red flags and overriding my excess empathy to call people out on their shit when they need it. It took me time, though, and I can’t help reading a lot of that into Sara. In a way, I tend to think her hope that August will own up to his actions is born out of heightened empathy for both August and Simon. She pins her hopes on this solution because, in her mind, it meets Simon’s needs because the person who harmed him has come forward and is willing to be held accountable for his actions and it meets August’s needs because he can find relief in owning up to his shit and stop drowning in regret. Now, yes, Sara is absolutely misleading herself and ignoring crucial details of the situation because she’s in love, and she does misread what Simon actually needs in the situation. This is very typically teenage. At the same time, when I write her in fic, I see this as tied to an excess of empathy, and not a lack of it.

Inertia/Executive Functioning Struggles: Building on what was said above… some AuDHD people (like myself) can really struggle with making a plan and getting started on tasks, and the bigger the task, the bigger the struggle. “Tasks” is a word we usually apply to things like doing laundry, so we tend to think of executive functioning as an unemotional thing, but it can also apply to emotional stuff like, say, having a big conversation that needs to be had or breaking up with someone you know you need to. (Like I said above. Two and a half years with that shitty person in college!) In fact, I would say inertia can even make things harder with social/emotional stuff, because math homework is at least consistently math homework, but social/emotional situations can shift and become more complicated over time. At Hillerska, we see Sara get involved in ever-shifting social politics, and it takes things escalating to the field scene for her to take action at the end of S2. (In a more minor example, Sara taking a while to get ready in the parents’ weekend episode, and Linda rushing her out the door, is a great example of Sara being affected by inertia.)

Menstrual ick: Increasing numbers of studies show that people with uteruses who have ADHD, autism, or both are way more likely to have painful periods and PMDD. This is true for me—one of the biggest signs that my period is coming is that I am absolutely convinced everyone hates me. I don’t know how to apply this to Sara directly, but periods are part of life and if you happen to write about her dealing with menstrual nonsense, this might be something to keep in mind.

Sensory issues: A lot of people are aware of sensory issues for neurodivergents, and every neurodivergent experiences sensory issues differently, and not always in ways that are immediately apparent to neurotypicals. For me, I hate vacuums and car horns and bananas, but for my roommate, she hates any lights on after 7 PM and finds chocolate overwhelming. Sara doesn’t mention any particular sensory issues, but presumably she has some and masks her reactions, so uh… make up the ones that make sense to you, I guess. Or, don’t make them up, but maybe read about a bunch of different people’s experiences of sensory issues and work from there. External stuff like being tired, sick, or being on one’s period can heighten sensory issues, so think about vulnerability factors that might increase them for Sara.

Rejection sensitivity: Many people with ADHD feel rejection or criticism from others with a high level of intensity, even as physical pain. (Fun fact: PMS makes my rejection sensitivity even worse!) I don’t know if we see Sara feeling rejection sensitivity onscreen much in YR, but I can’t help but imagine she’s dealt with it in the past, based on the way she says she sometimes feels like the worst person in the world, when she’s talking to August in 2.3. If Sara’s had therapy (which I assume she’s had in some form because she knows breathing exercises) then maybe this is something she’s worked on coping strategies.

Accommodations in school: I don’t actually know how this works in Sweden specifically or at a school like Hillerska, but I’d love to hear how it works! Someone else should weigh in if they know things. But I would not be surprised if Sara has the legal right to certain accommodations in school such as extended time on tests, guided notes, etc. (Not being Swedish myself, I’m not sure what the equivalent to the Americans With Disabilities Act would be in Sweden.) One thing to note here is that Sara would get to decide herself whether she actually uses her accommodations or not. I would say, based on my observations of teenagers, is that some neurodivergent teenagers tend not to use their accommodations so they can avoid sticking out among their peers. This seems like it might be the case for Sara, since she wants to make friends at Hillerska and not stand out. The other thing she might encounter at Hillerska specifically is teachers who don’t want to meet those accommodations because they’re “old school” and, frankly, ableist. Accommodations are something one should take into account when writing Sara’s academic life, though.

Double empathy problem: This is something that the psych community is talking about more lately, and essentially the idea here is that neurotypicals communicate best with other neurotypicals whereas neurodivergents communicate best with other neurodivergents. That doesn’t mean both groups can’t communicate with one another (and even reducing it to two groups is kind of oversimplifying things, because obviously culture and other things impact communication too) but there are different patterns of communication at work here. In my own life, I vibe well with people whose neurotypes are similar to mine—this is exactly why @coruscantrhapsody and I are such iconic roommates. The Double Empathy Problen is theorized to have played a role in stereotypes about autistic people not having any empathy. (PS: I don’t actually think August has undiagnosed ADHD in canon, at least not according to the writers. Still, I think it would be pretty interesting to write him in fanfiction as someone who has a missed childhood diagnosis given the way he struggles with rejection sensitivity, impulsivity, and emotion regulation, and the way that the adderall addiction could be a form of self-medication that has gone awry. For that reason I think it’d be interesting to see a fic where the sargust relationship is viewed through the lens of the double empathy problem. Obviously not in a way where the ADHD excuses August’s harmful behaviors, but you know. An added layer of delicious nuance. Alternately, I know some folks like to headcanon Wille as autistic. Sara really clicking with autistic!Wille when they finally get a chance to talk is something I’d like to see!)

Neurodivergent community: As far as I can tell, Sara doesn’t really have neurodivergent community. This makes me sad, as someone who strongly benefits from friendships with other neurodivergent people. I would like her to have some in someone’s fic, please! Let me know if you write it.

That’s all for now… maybe I’ll add more in a future post.

For any other AuDHDers, do you have any elements of your personal experience that you incorporate into how you interpret or write Sara’s character? Feel free to reblog and add on, if you feel so inclined. (But also, no pressure.) Like I said, every ND person experiences this stuff differently, so someone else may have completely different experiences than me.

#young royals #sara eriksson #yr fic resources #actually audhd #first time using that tag so it’s kind of a milestone

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fractualized · 4 months ago

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hi I sent that last ask and I appreciate you so much. I love how chill you are. I love that you speak up and aren't afraid of others people's opinions of you -- because you talking about that helps me realize exactly what you were talking about about.

my critical online space that shaped my brain was Tumblr growing up, much in the same way reddit or 4chan or anything else was for others, and as positive as it was and as much as I stay here, there were some HEAVY years of thought policing and performing perfectly at all times and I really think it fucked with my head!

not to trauma dump, but the way it related to starting off by policing each other in fandom just happened to spill into every other aspect of my life too. every thing is black and white. every interaction is perfect or you are flawed and not worth anything at all. people literally judging you off stupid fandom shit behind a fake name dressed up in sparkles and curiosity was enough to call you a monster who deserved to be alone. the fuck??

from fandom cops telling me that portrayals of fictional characters in my head were an actual meter that we can base if we're deserving of human connection made me think about what ELSE could be important. aren't there things a little more pressing than fictional characters?? the words I use. the way I behave. move my face. micro express, leave pauses in sentences, judged by everything! I've been taught that the LITTLEST OF INDICATIONS OF HUMANITY were going to be the death of me. I couldn't exist. all because of fictional themes that creators are allowed to make, but fans are not allowed to enjoy unless it's the "right way". even though the people CREATING it are also exploring it. rules for thee but not for me.

it's gross. I felt like a monster and when the only other people who are kind to you are monsters, it really makes you wonder why fandom cops find themselves so much morally superior to others 👹

People have told me I'm chill before and I'm always like, "excellent, they can't tell I'm yelling on the inside." 😂

Sometimes I wonder if I would be different if the show Heroes hadn't ended as such a clusterfuck. And by that I mean that my experience with that show ended on such a sour note, I wound up drifting away from fandom for 5-ish years. And it wasn't because of the Heroes fandom itself! It was because by the end I was hate-watching the show, and that kind of headspace is just no good. I wasted too much energy being mad at something that wasn't going to improve, and my other fandom interests weren't strong enough for fic, etc. I still lurked here and there, but otherwise I focused on life stuff.

At the point I left, tumblr was popular but I was still a livejournal (and journalfen) holdout. As a result, I was simply absent during the most intense tumblr years. I have a general idea of what it was like from everyone's descriptions, but from my point of view, five years passed, Telltale Batman: the Enemy Within came a-calling, I started writing fic again, and uhhhhh things sure were different.

Not entirely for the worse. For one thing, as someone who unavoidably grew older, yeah, I do keep in mind that there are children running around these parts. The increased focus on tagging your work is also good, so people can avoid what they don't want to see. And it's just always been a good general rule to be mindful when getting into sensitive topics, and I was seeing more of that.

Buuuuuuuut yeah, with that it seemed like "don't like; don't read" was out, and witch hunting was in. Some slight mistake might indicate you were actually one of the Bad Ones all the long! And everyone must know! I mean, there's always been fandom police, but fandom's mainstreamification definitely made it worse for a host of reasons. And I actually was unnerved by it for a while, even though the Enemy Within finale had me indulging in fluff. I was probably safe-- but then again who knows what blunder or improper deference to a sensitive subject could bring a swarm of strangers!

But eventually I was fluffed out, and chatting batjokes with people was giving me new ideas that would have me explore and indulge in (gasp) darker ideas. And by that point I was just like, I'm a freaking adult. I tag my shit. I'm here to have a good time with people I like, not worry about a bunch of randos who probably get as much anxiety making a cold call as I do. And yeah, why are fans supposed to be judged on a different metric than the creators?? I'm going to do what I want!

And with that rallying cry… I mean, nothing ever happened. 😂 Not the first time I've built up worries in my head for nothing.

I can see it taking me longer to get to that point if I'd fully marinated in the thought policing, though. I think people get that instinct because of the age-old lack of control elsewhere in life (especially nowadays, with all the… everything). Surely if someone can get everyone in their orbit to behave in just this way, then at least things there will be okay. Nothing bad will happen! (It's not as if rigid mindsets hurt people and their relationships, or performatively good people still do atrocious things. No, surely not.)

I don't have a good closing, so here's an Reno 911 icon from the old days:

#ask

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teetle-time · 10 months ago

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Time Is All We Have

A Doctor Who x Rise of the TMNT Xover interest check/story prologue because i'm losing all control of my life lmao

Quick mini-primer for where in both timelines we are:

Non-teetle fixaters, you can just watch the first few minutes of the Rise movie. Bad future timeline shenanigans wahoo! You should probably also get a feel for the regular present timeline from the show if you can, though we won't be directly interacting with it for a quite a bit. Because Reasons. :)

Non-Who fixaters, we're rolling with David Tennant Doctor The First and the companion named Martha Jones. The name similarity to the Casey Joneses makes me giggle, especially now that I've watched through the (REDACTED) episodes where she ends up with some more Caseys parallels. Those haven't happened yet for her though lmao. Frankly, she's only had a few episodes'-worth of adventures with the Doctor by this point. :)

anyway. shoutout to my brother purpletango for having this idea. i believe what i hurriedly jotted down in my notepad app went like this:

the rise movie begins, mikey gets ready to send junior back in time- -and something goes wrong. welp, the gateway's there now. may as well use it. junior gets yeeted through (and my brain is now adding the idea of leo realizing something's up and going with him) and junior (and maybe leo) land…in the TARDIS. now they gotta get back to earth (hoping they're at least in the right dimension) to find the key and stop the krang. NO PRESSURE LMFAO

with a lil tweaking to the premise that just sorta happened as i was writing, i'm now at 26k words of combined fic and notes. it has been 2.5 weeks. i am nowhere near done. help lmao

gonna be doing something a bit funky with the tardis here just to get the ball rolling. idk if it's a canon thing that can happen but if it's not then shshshshshshsh just pretend with me. take my hand

〜

Almost exactly twelve hours prior to the moment he died, when the rest of what remained of the Resistance had been asleep and it had only been the turtles awake to keep watch, Michelangelo had looked to his big brother and said, "We can't beat them, can we?"

Last night, Leonardo had swallowed and given a slight shake of his head. "We can't."

"They've even stolen the night sky from us somehow," Michelangelo had said, lifting his gaze to the cloudless, crimson sky. "Look, there's no stars anymore."

"When did that happen?" Leonardo had asked under his breath. "We still had at least a handful last I checked…"

"Sometime since the last time we had enough peace and quiet at night to actually look up. I'd say…in the past few weeks?" Michelangelo had suggested.

There had been silence for a long moment after that, broken only by the quiet, deep breathing of the few who were left, as well as the shifting of Michelangelo's cloak as he scooted a bit closer to his brother.

Between the two of them, Leonardo and Michelangelo had enough organic fingers and toes to count everyone else who'd survived the past twenty-odd years. Then again, with only two toes on each foot, three fingers on each hand, and three organic hands left to use…well. Less than twenty wasn't exactly an army.

Casey had shifted in his sleep, eventually, mumbling something incoherent the way his mother always had.

Leonardo had swallowed.

Michelangelo had pulled his gaze back down to Earth and looked at him.

"The Krang won't give us the mercy of dying," Leonardo had said grimly. "Not if they can help it."

"They won't," Michelangelo had agreed.

"The others chose to fight with us. Humans, yokai, and mutants. Even Todd. Never would've expected him of all yokai to be so kickass, back in the day. But…this is all Casey's ever known," Leonardo had continued.

"It is."

There had been a shifting in the shadows off in the distance, then, and while it had turned out to be easily taken care of, it had still put a pause on the brothers' conversation for a bit.

When they'd gotten back, but before they'd woken the others and gotten moving again, Leonardo had nailed Michelangelo with a solemn look. "We can't avoid this forever, but Casey…"

"I know you're not talking about that thing we talked about never talking about," Michelangelo had said, raising the ridges of his brows for a deadpan look and a wry smile.

Leonardo had jabbed an elbow into his plastron with a thick snicker…but he hadn't denied it.

Michelangelo had sobered up, then. "Oh."

"Do you think you can do it?" Leonardo had asked as he'd knelt to shake April awake, pausing before he did to meet Michelangelo's eyes.

"I know I can," Michelangelo had said, remaining quiet about how 'it' would very likely be the end of him.

They'd both already known as much.

"When?"

"I-I don't know. When things look bleakest," Leonardo had tried. "If it comes down to us. If it's just you and somebody else. If…if it's just you."

Michelangelo had nodded, then put a hand on his brother's carapace. "The Krang'll get front-row seats to Earth's very own home-grown sun. And that's a Doctor Delicate Touch guarantee."

"Wouldn't expect anything less, little man," Leonardo had chuckled. "Give 'em a light show that'll have 'em running scared."

"I can fly, Leo. And 'little man' was always Raph's thing," Michelangelo had snickered, reaching down to wake Casey. "Hey, Casey, we gotta get moving. Mind waking up and reminding your sensei that I win all height contests forever, no take-backs?"

The noise had begun rousing the others, and Leonardo had scoffed. "Turning my own student against me, Mikey? Low blow."

"Nah," April had said from where she lay. "This is a low blow."

She had snapped an arm out to smack Leonardo's shin, and the rest of the survivors had woken to quiet laughter.

It had been nice.

The last moment of calm within the storm.

In the present, Michelangelo winced as the mystic energies swirling through him reached a crescendo, but still pushed further, digging his fingers into the fabric of reality and wrenching it apart.

With Leonardo wounded, everyone else outnumbered, and Krang closing in on all sides, it was definitely pretty bleak.

There was no better time to make a time gateway than when there was no time left, after all.

His heart pounded in his tympana, loudly enough he almost could have sworn it echoed, a thud-thud-thud-thud that wanted to shake him to the core.

For a moment, with the Krang bearing down on him, his brother, and his nephew, it felt like he was losing his grip.

Casey's voice managed to overpower the thud-thud-thud-thud: "Master Michelangelo, no! You're gonna-!"

He knew.

How could he not, with light cracking his skin and his scales into little flakes of dust on the wind?

But Casey…he was the future.

The best of all of them.

As long as Casey would be okay, Michelangelo could do anything. Would do anything.

He turned his head back over his shoulder for one last look.

Casey looked horrified.

Leonardo looked resigned.

There was no one else left.

(He didn't want to go.)

Michelangelo smiled and gave his family a cheeky little wink, then turned his attention to the time gateway in front of him, threw his arms out to his sides with one last heave-!

-and like Earth's very own home-grown supernova, like the very last star in the universe, he imploded into golden light.

〜

Leonardo felt himself shatter inside as Mikey disintegrated and the time gate stabilized, but the Krang were still closing in.

"Casey, when you're done saving the world, do me a favor," he said, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder.

Casey looked up at him with wide eyes. "Sensei, don't-!"

Leonardo just smiled sadly and shifted his grip from comforting to more of a ready to throw.

He ignored the fire in his side and the trickle of blood down his plastron as he hurled Casey into the gateway. "Grab a slice-!"

"NO!"

Casey's scream was the only warning Leonardo had before the wrist-strapped grapple (standard issue, at least before Donnie had gone out with a bang) streaked back out of the portal, latched onto Leonardo's good shoulder, and yanked him off his feet.

"Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa-!"

The deafening thrum of a Krang laser and a flash of heat at his back told Leonardo exactly how he should have died, but the sensations vanished just as quickly as they'd appeared, leaving only the golden light of Michelangelo's ninpo and the silhouette a few yards away that told Leonardo where Casey was.

Leo almost let himself go limp in the rushing mass of energy as it faded from golden-orange to something more bluish-gray.

Almost.

Instead, however, he grit his teeth against the way his wound flared up and started swimming for Casey.

The light around them grew brighter with no signs of stopping.

By the time Leo reached the kid, he had to screw his eyes shut to avoid going blind.

He managed to grab Casey's hand, then wrap himself protectively around him-

-and then some kind of metal grating slammed against his carapace, his head snapped back, and he knew only darkness.

〜

The Doctor blinked at the sudden sound of beeping. "Oh? That doesn't sound right."

"Doctor? What is it?" asked Martha.

"I'm getting an alert," said he, darting over to one of the TARDIS' monitors for a look. "An alert that there's a lifeform catapulting through the timestream almost completely unprotected- two! Two lifeforms!"

Martha blinked. "What? How did that happen?"

"I don't know, but if we want to find out, we'd best get them onboard before whatever shielding they do have is eroded away." The Doctor studied the monitor for a moment more, then slid around the console and started throwing the appropriate levers and flicking the appropriate switches. "I need to focus on getting close- would you mind peeking out the doors to make sure my aim isn't off?"

"On it!"

The Doctor grinned, then turned his focus back to steering. "Aaalright then! They ought to be coming up just ahead, maybe a smidge to our left-!"

"I see them!" Martha called. "One of them- one looks human!"

The Doctor blinked, then looked up. "Only the one?"

Martha nodded, not tearing her eyes from the window. "The other looks almost like a turtle! Except, well, it's person-sized!"

"Curiouser and curiouser," the Doctor mused. Then, looking back down at the console, "Well, I think the simplest course of action would be to just…scoop them up!"

Martha glanced his way in confusion. "What, just open the door and grab 'em?"

"Exactly. You'll want to be quick and precise," the Doctor recommended. "Good to know we're on the same page."

After a moment to process what he'd said, Martha nodded slowly. "…right."

The Doctor carefully piloted the TARDIS close, and as he watched the energy readings of the two lifeforms get close enough, he heard Martha open the door, then yelp in surprise as something hard hit the metal flooring with a clang.

"Sensei?!" squawked the thick and emotional voice of a pubescent human boy.

"Oh, my," said the Doctor, skirting the edge of the console as he jogged over for a look.

Immediately, he could tell that whatever the circumstances were that had led to the two strangers being catapulted into the timestream, they had not been pretty. Between the apocalyptic fashion and weaponry, the fact that the turtle had seemingly been curled around the boy until losing consciousness, and the sight of tear tracks on the boy's face…well, a billboard would have been less obvious.

The boy glanced between the Doctor and Martha, wide eyes quickly shifting into suspicion as he slid off "Sensei's" plastron and placed himself between the turtle and the Doctor. "Who are you? What do you want with us? Are you with the Krang?"

Huh. He sounded American.

"Krang?" asked Martha, turning to him. "Doctor, what's a Krang?"

The Doctor frowned, mulling the word over. "Krang? Krang, Krang, KrangKrangKrang… Can't say I recognize the name. Bit of a shocker, really, and somewhat worrisome."

The boy's face spasmed, confusion clearly welling up, but the door chose to remind them all that it was still open by letting a tannish cloak drift through and land next to the two newcomers.

The sight of the cloak made the boy's eyes moisten further.

Oh, dear.

"Martha, could you get the door?" asked the Doctor, shifting his voice into something a little softer as he knelt next to the two strangers.

"Oh, uh- you got it."

As Martha did exactly that, the Doctor met the boy's eyes. "I'm the Doctor. Behind you is Martha, and this is the TARDIS. I don't know what it is you're running from, whatever this 'Krang' business is, but I promise you, you're safe here."

The boy's suspicion slowly lessened, the tension in his shoulders loosening some- though, notably, nowhere near completely. "And…what's a tardis?"

"My spaceship," said the Doctor modestly. "'S how I get around. What I want to know is, how did a humanoid teenager and a turtleman with a robotic arm end up hurtling through the timestream all on their lonesome?"

At that, the boy's gaze flickered to the cloak on the ground, and his jaw hardened in that way jaws tended to do when the only other option was to sob.

"…I see," said the Doctor quietly. "While I'd like to know the specifics, pushing this sort of thing never really seems to work out well. So I won't."

"You-" The boy's voice cracked, and he tried again. "You said you were a doctor?"

"The Doctor," corrected he.

"Though I've been training as one for quite some time, myself!" Martha reminded.

The boy visibly warred with himself for a moment, then grit his teeth and pulled slightly away from the turtle's side, revealing a nasty gash that had gone clean through his shell. "Help him. Please."

Martha gasped. "Oh, God-!"

The Doctor's eyes flew wide, but then he nodded firmly. "We'll do everything we can."

#tenth doctor #martha jones #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #casey jones junior #rise #tmnt #doctor who #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #self fic #if you listen closely you can hear the faint sounds of slow jazz 1920's-style 'having a good time' by queen in the distance #TWO ANGSTY YOUNG-OLD MEN IN THE TARDIS WITH THEIR COMPANIONS SURNAME JONES #WHAT WILL THEY DO

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scaly-freaks · 4 months ago

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do you ever get tired from (and of) writing? I get so tired because while I never really map out the ending I do always have a general direction I want the plot to go and in my head it's like 'well that means it's done,' and now I have to get through the tedious process of actually writing it out, even when I'm not passionate about it and I just get sad thinking about having to go back to the project. like what's even the point. idek if this is about the writing attp I'm just too sad to go on with anything tbh.

anyways, I hope you keep writing forever

Sometimes. I can get tired in the sense that my brain feels juiced dry and I have to put it down. But I think I get more tired mentally if I don't write for a while if that makes sense. It's the best way I've ever found to be with myself without having to exist as myself.

I would say if it's making you sad, definitely don't push yourself to go back to that project. Give it some time and space and then return later. I read somewhere that if you think too much about the plot you want to write, your brain registers it as "done" and then you're less inclined to write it. That helped me a lot in terms of my eternal issue of never being able to complete an original work. I don't talk about my fanfics to anyone, but I yap about my novel(s) to my irl friends a lot. They get invested, and then inevitably disappointed when I've talked the plot to death and no longer find anything interesting in it that's worth exploring.

Maybe for the first few chapters just focus on character work? No plot, just their interactions with one another, and the intricacies of human psychology at play. I tend to choose my books for characterisation over plot work, and then the plot becomes the tasty garnish on top (I'm aware in fantasy novels plot is important, but GRRM has a beautiful balance of brilliant characters and a plot that inevitably moves along).

So honestly forget the plot and live with the characters for a bit before events start rolling (I hope this helps...I'm never sure if my writing advice is actually practical)

#asks #writing

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undeadinventress · 9 months ago

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- ❝︎ i want to see you come undone . ❞︎

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have you ever wondered what it was like to know everything? every single piece of knowledge, coming to you at the drop of a hat. what if i were to grant you that very wish... at the cost of your humanity? oh what am i saying, of course you would.

you would do anything to fill that decrepit brain of yours.

ooc;

Hello. I go by many names, but you can call me Sylv. My main account is @menharakun, not that I'm active posting there in the first place..

I'm not a minor. I'd prefer if young children didn't interact or follow, thanks in advance. 17 or 16 is fine, but anything other than that (unless i interact and/or follow first) it's a no from me.

This is a yttd rp blog for an ASU-NARO affiliated OC, Anjin Ventoure, a doll with the equivalent of a private Google website implanted in her brain. Her name is supposed to be a play on 'An Inventor," however, it is very loose with it (mainly because i did not want to name her 'Anne' or 'Annin.')

Rule wise: just don't be stupid. I do allow NSFW asks, say whatever you want. Don't worry about your ask being "too far." If it is, I'll probably delete it from my inbox.

Anywho! Here are some links! And extra info under the cuts.

consent form she signed teehee

APPEARANCE; includes her robotic adjustments and a neopolitan ice cream themed outfit.

EXTRAS;

• she's 5'8", compared to mirabelle's 6'2"

• probably one of the heavier dolls to hold, due to her legs being entirely made of metal, weighing at 220lbs. makes her a hard hitter.

• physical threats will not work on her!! she cannot feel pain

• sometimes, she mimics other people as a way to bring her own emotions to light. she may copy your mannerisms or actions if she finds you particularly interesting.

• she speaks in all caps, and in a robotic voice. there are very rare times her actual human voice would shine through

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mdhwrites · 2 years ago

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Ruby Gillman Trailer

youtube

So... This trailer has theoretically been living in my brain for the past day and I want to talk about it. My first thought was just “This is cute. Looks neat. I’ll keep an eye out for it and maybe see it if I get the opportunity.” Theeeeeen someone made art of the mermaid and kraken kissing and I mean that’s just perfect. There’s even a lot of good potential for shipping there with the person who is defined by their powers and what they are and the person who doesn’t care about any of those things. The attraction from the mermaid to the kraken is immediate and obvious and filling in the gaps could be fun. Which actually brought me to stage two: This trailer is bad... but in a good way? It fails in just making an audience interested as it also defeats the purpose to watching it for people who mostly care about the big plot points rather than the journey. After all, we know her powers, see her first accidental transformation into full kraken mode, see the villain’s super mode reveal, get it confirmed that it ends with a kaiju fight, see how superfluous the love interest will be, etc. like that. When people talk about trailers showing the whole movie, this could actually be used as a textbook example of it... With one exception: How it does it also easily facilitates fandom interaction. The main designs are shown fairly clearly, with their variants being shown as well so artists don’t have to fill in the gaps left out by lack of references, the plot of the movie is clear so you can take educated guesses on what they’ll do so the movie won’t as easily contradict fanfiction made before it, etc. like that. Hell, you could just try to write a fanfic that’s effectively the movie with those guesses. It’d be like those cheap knock offs of hyped up movies like “Atlantic Rim” that you would find in old video rental places. I... I swear I’m 26 (one month away from my birthday to the day actually which is actually pure coincidence). So... Here’s the multiple levels of thought in full: This idea is neat. I like monster girls and monster girls trying to fit into human society is something I’ve enjoyed enough to write multiple times in multiple ways! The last book I released had a dryad in it even. Oh! Yeah, this antagonist and protagonist actually have great potential for a sapphic romance and we KNOW how much I love those. My first proper length novel, instead of novella, was based on a popular werewolf girl falling for a nerdy human girl after all. You do know so much though that you could try to take the same premise and flip it in time for the movie to come out. Books would have a way easier time with a deadline of ‘this Summer’ than making a movie yourself though. You’d have to be able to pump out a whole book’s worth of chapters in like a week, let alone if you don’t have practice with mermaids. Of course, I am well documented as having experience writing mermaids, and even more hostile ones at that. With all that said... There’s MORE than enough differences between Ruby Gillman and the story percolating in my head right now. There won’t be a race based rivalry, it’ll be focused on a romance rather than shoving it in there because apparently it needs one (that’s really how the trailer makes it feel for Gillman) and just the shift from the two being entirely against each other from go to actually working together and getting closer inherently requires a very different story. As well as the fact that a book can’t get away with the main character being blue and people just theoretically ignoring it (I’m curious what the explanation for that will be) and the fact that a kraken might be hated while a mermaid is loved in the world has already led to worldbuilding that will play into the romance, the climax, themes and character arcs. This also isn’t me trying to say “I’m gonna outdo Dreamworks!” It’s more my silly way of announcing a new project I’m going to try and focus on and try to get done in like two-three months. I know I can more than easily do it if I can get my mind to work with me so... we’ll see but my mind is excited and I think it’s a fun, silly experiment. I am a little sad that it means I likely won’t be writing fanfiction for the movie before it comes out though like I did with Wenclair and Wednesday. Again, I think Ruby and Chelsea already have a good possible dynamic together but my job as a professional writer takes precedence unfortunately.

#ruby gillman teenage kraken #Teenage kraken #Rambles

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titoist · 1 year ago

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in ~early-mid 2022, i received an ask from an anonymous messenger that i don't have the soul to go back & dig up. it's main message, the sort of theoretical thread connecting sentence to sentence, was essentially that - no matter how pained & self-contorting my writing might be - there is also a deep truth pervading through it in much the same way that sunlight might peek through cracks in the concrete. so, i should keep writing. i am essentially paraphrasing - the way this was all delivered was, of course, much more comprehensive. i vaguely remember it being sort of perceptibly run-on, or 'excited', loose, like the writer was functioning on either too much or too little energy.

this post is a kind of open letter to that anon, though i sincerely doubt they are still interested in me, as a way to soothe my own moral conscience. i have reached a point where i think, be it passively or actively, about them every so often. iif you are not that anon, i don't really mind whether you skip by disinterestedly or continue on;

hi. we talked only briefly, if one could even consider it a talk, i want to say... last july? it was pretty one-sided, really. you said something, i gave a response. but even that little microscopic interaction between two people reflected enough humanity for me to remember it in comparison to the wide array of normalized inhumanities. your message to me was very emotionally loaded in a way that i, be it shockingly or not, was not really equipped to process. or, did not want to process it? i spent some time mulling over & came up with a response that, i think, was actively missing the point. i remember, in the moment, finding it a bit harsh but genuinely feeling an absence of other possible things that i could think of & then write out. there was an absence in my mind of how to respond to admiration. for example, you sort of offhandedly, at the end somewhere i think, said that i should continue writing, perhaps a book or something like that, because you felt that i would "come to define generations". that felt uncomfortable. i couldn't confront it as anything other than what it seemed to be. why place that expectation onto me? it felt unduly deifying. etc. i didn't realize that it was never about the books, or the offhanded line that it would define generations; it was about the personal truth there

my entire response was filled with these little technocratic, inhuman nitpickings: "why the expectation that i should write a *book*, of all things?" - embarrassing! deeply... there are many anon asks that i spend my time thinking about, or hold as deeply important to my internal world. the flurry of crush anons that i received one night in spring of 2022 is one such occasion, or the anonymous person who told me that they wished more people were as honest about their personhood as i am (more-or-less). i can tell already that the one i received yesterday will grow to be equally important, somewhere down the line, when i am starved of further interaction. anonymous affection is always important to me, because it is anonymous. it's an ideal my brain uses as a substitute & always has - the flurry of crush anons, for example, is important because it was crush anons. it was world-rending, feeling it to that degree. or, it's why i become so inconsolable upon seeing that my writings might not have been received with some arbitrary interactions online, like accidentally revealing a chip in my armor & being unceremoniously blasted. your message has been a fixture for some time.

there's a specific phrase that you used, i think it was like... - "but there's a truth there." it is one of the idle phrases that i repeat under my breath when i am alone. a kind of rapid, nervous self-talk, like a child attempting to console itself.

i hope that, for what it's worth, this message displays some of the gratitude i lacked then - even if you don't see it. thank you. love you

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the-prophesied-disco-gay · 2 months ago

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I am about 70% bedbound. I cannot leave the house most days. This is, indeed, part of why being this disabled is so, well, disabling. We are literally unable to access some of the things humans *need* to be healthy. So! Some tips from a very disabled motherfucker on getting your brain the exposure you need!

● open the window my friend. If you are able, position yourself or have someone position you near that open window. Not only will you be able to see and/or hear the outside, you'll be able to feel and smell it too. It hits different beong able to see the bird making that sound. To smell the recent rain. To hear the neighbors dogs and the traffic and kids chasing each other down the street. It will be a different mix of things depending on your personal ability level, but it does help. Truly.

● get out of the house for something other than an appointment or obligation. For me this sometimes means just getting help to sit out front in my wheelchair. Maybe asking one of my partners to wheel me around the yard or a block or two down the street. I have wheeled an entire hospital bed out of a patients room and on to their back porch, back when I was still working, so they could be outside for the first time in 12 years. 12 YEARS. If you have the help available, use it! When they ask "is there anything else you need" speak up! Say you'd like to go outside for a bit, so they can arrange that.

● gonna sound silly, but nature documentaries. You don't get the smell or feels of the environment, it's not perfect, but it can help you feel more a part of the world. Especially documentaries about places even abled people will probably never go. It removes that feeling of being different, being cut off. Most people will never go there either, but you can both look at it and enjoy how amazing the world is.

● Indoor plants help a great deal if you are able to care for them or someone else in the home is. They increase the oxygen and provide the smell and visual confirmation of something living, nature close to you.

● videos from gopros and such of people doing stuff out in the world. Doesn't matter what, pick something that interests you. Personally I like videos where they've attached a gopro to a dog. Whatever options you pick (and there are lots), it can help trick your brain into feeling like you're out and about with them and giving some of the good chemicals.

● video chat with people when they are out. Similar to the above idea, but interactive! You can ask "what's that?" or "can I get a closer look at that tree?" or whatever you want!

The best thing is to get the actual outside *on* you. To be out there in it, even just a few inches from your door. Feel the air and sun on your skin. If you are able to find a way to do that, it will give you the best results. If not, use the closest thing you can. It's hard, yes. Hard to deal with disability, with having to ask, with relying on others. Having to find lists on Tumblr to try to make this world a little less hostile, a little more livable. It's hard and it's unfair and it sucks.

Do what you can to make it suck less anyway. It's worth it. You're worth it. This life is precious, do whatever you can to make it good for yourself. There are no moments that don't count. Every tiny joy and little smile, every single one of them is worth it. Every one counts. We all have a good wallow occassionally, but don't do it to the point that you are feeling nothing else and lashing out at people who are experiencing joy in their own lives (which they SHOULD). There are ways to feel better. I took care of quadriplegic patients who could only move their head and we still found ways to help them be part of the world. I promise there are options. Please reach out to someone, even me, if you feel like there aren't any. There are no moments that don't count my loves. Let's make em count *for* us.

life actually gets better when you leave the house consistently btw like im serious

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cozycottagetarot · 7 months ago

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Yeah I guess that's one way- to do whatever we feel like or wonder about, but man that's so hard for me cuz I'm just uninterested in almost everything. I used to study a lot to fill my time with something that's actually productive, but after a year my brain just refuses to study more and, well, here I am. I think this time something in me is asking me to interact with human beings and probably learn something from them, tho knowing that doesn't make it any easier to do honestly. Come to think of it, what do you think of the world recently?

Hmm… maybe you need to 'play' more rather than study. As in what are some types of hobbies that interest you and that kind of stuff. Or can you just go and wander around somewhere for a little bit? Interacting with people is always hard 🥲 but maybe try it in small increments? sometimes it takes a lot of subpar interactions before you really get one that touches you deeply and makes all the previous experiences worth it! I mean I'm here, you can always direct message me if you want to (no pressure of course, just an open invitation I suppose). As far as what I think of the world recently, I'm going to be painstakingly honest and say I don’t. I don’t have access to the mental health care I need so I avoid that slippery slope for now as it never usually ends well... At most, I think there's good and bad in the world and it's sometimes easier to focus on the bad than it is the good. So I challenge myself to find the good and focus on what small ways I can to try to help shift the bad into something better.

#anon ask #answered

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randomrings · 11 months ago

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So I watched Scott Pilgrim Takes Off. I liked it.

My partner was a big fan of the franchise. I was more familiar with the jumping out the window thing and the old delisting of that video game. Hadn't watched or read anything else. We watched the first episode together. She wasn't grabbed by it but agreed that it looked pretty. I was blown away visually but was unimpressed storywise. Not necessarily underwhelmed just not wowed. My partner hasn't watched the rest. Something about it grabbed my brain so I finished it on my own over the course of a week and a half. Here's what I texted my partner right after finishing the last episode:

Finished Scott Pilgrim takes off. Deeper than it seems but still mostly just eye candy and some millennial references. Along with two or three Avril Lavigne references.

I think this was primarily made for Scott Pilgrim fans so I confidently assume it wasn't directed at me. But I was very charmed by its art style and animation. Some lighting effects in certain parts I thought were a little much and I'm not even photosensitive. Other than that, the cinematography, choreography, and facial expressions are wonderful. Visually, it's kind of a masterpiece.

Storywise SPOILER WARNING (I don't go into much detail about the show's plot and how it ends but I do touch on pieces of what happens), I probably won't explain myself well here. I like stories with flawed leads. I don't need a big redemption arc. Nor redemption. If the story told is one about a horrible human being, I'm cool with that as long as the story is done competently. I won't say Takes Off is incompetent. It just bounces off me in this sense. The more I see it as a Ramona Flowers story more than a Scott story, the more I appreciate the script. I feel like this was the intent. It does a lot with a very short time frame with a lot of characters. However, it is still limited to that timeframe. The ensemble cast was an interesting way to take this... I think? Like I said, I'm out of my element talking about this franchise. I'm fairly certain the movie focuses primarily on Scott. In this iteration of the story, I feel like it's more about what Scott means to Ramona. It's more about Ramona feeling a determination she doesn't fully understand until the last episode. Which is cool! But would also work more for me if this heavily-focused-on character's love interest and primary motivation *was* a little more redeemable. Since I'm posting this publicly, I need to clarify that I'm not complaining about the titular character not getting enough screen time. I'm complaining about his character not doing enough to be worth Ramona's time this much. At the end of the story, the winner is pretty much just love. That's not a terrible thing. However, a lot of the cast of characters don't really spread a general sense of love to carry that theme home. Ramona learns more about what love means to her through meeting a lot of characters and becoming more acquainted with the experiences of characters she already knows. But most of those people are at each other's throats, have some innate lack of patience for them, or don't really interact much if at all. Don't get me wrong, Ramona's interactions are very satisfying and interesting to see carried out so stylistically. But then, at the end, she realizes why she wants to be with Scott. But it's Scott.

Episode 1: Scott is a major asshole. He fucks Ramona because Ramona doesn't know that Scott is a major asshole whose assholery includes dating a high school student. Scott invites Ramona to a concert his band is playing, in which he knows the high school student will show up, having not broken the news to Knives that they "aren't really dating". Scott has time to tell her and just doesn't. Scott fights Patel and it looks like Patel won. Ramona finds out through some weird dreamscape thing Scott is still alive and loving Ramona from there.

Episode 6, I think: Scott reappears, not dead. Episode 7: Turns out he has been talking to his future self who decides to try to get him to steer clear of Ramona. Scott decides he just won't make the same mistakes as this version of himself.

This is one thing I liked about how the story was handled. This is a cool way for this show's personality and logic for Scott to face his past and future mistakes. Because the only person he's really going to listen to is himself. Not Ramona. Himself. Even if he disagrees with him, he will listen to himself because he's a selfish bitch. That's the whole point of his character.

Episode 7 (cont.): Scott apologizes to Knives.

Here, Knives has a really good character moment. It was a great resolution to how she felt about the situation. However, this is where I take a little grievance toward the notion that this iteration of Scott Pilgrim is about Scott learning from his mistakes and becoming a better person. In his apology, he admits that they weren't at the "were we ever really dating?" stage. He straight up calls it dating. And I don't think I'm reading into things because of the competence of the rest of the show's writing. A lot of dialogue callbacks and self-referential wording is used to tell this story. Scott accepts that he has been a massive piece of garbage. With the show's short timeframe, this Knives scene is pretty much the closest he comes to any form of actual redemption. This has been a lot of text now so I'm going to reiterate something I said earlier: I am not hung up on Scott being an irredeemable garbage person or anything close to that. I am hung up on Ramona finding what she considers her true love with this particular iteration of Scott.

Also worth noting two things: A) I'm not posting this to have a screaming match with fans of this franchise. I am willing to discuss what I might have missed or might be wrong on but I'm not claiming to be objectively correct or anything. It's just analysis and critique; it doesn't have to be as deep as you might think so if you do reply or interact with this post in any way, take a deep breath first, please. B) I'm not listening to "well, in the comic", "well, in the movie", or "well, in the game" because I am specifically talking about the characters as portrayed in Takes Off. It is pretty clear that these iterations of these characters are not the same as the ones portrayed in other Scott Pilgrim installments.

So you have Scott, a toxic person who has done toxic things. You have Ramona, an overall seemingly decent person who has done toxic, harmful things. The key difference for me is that she did so mostly as a teenager. The audience learns about Scott and his past romantic/sexual relationships more indirectly than that of Ramona's. Scott's relationships are implied to be centered around Scott's selfish desires. Ramona's relationships are not only more complex because they are conceptually given more screen time but because Scott didn't want a complicated relationship. Even when finding the girl of (and/or from) his dreams, this is about as far as he thought (if only initially).

In the finale, upon seeing two different versions of this Scott fuck up his relationship with Ramona with a similar fuckhead mindset that he went into with his other relationships, Scott decides to change. Scott wants to avoid those mistakes before they even occur. However, we never get to see these actions actually portrayed. So my reading of the situation is that Ramona learns something fundamental about herself and thematically comes to a conclusive decision on what to do with that something. That conclusion is to stay with Scott, someone who's decision seems to be, based on everything I just said, be a more drawn-out version of the problems that persisted with his relationship with Envy, Knives (a teenager), Kim, and now at least one parallel timeline version of Ramona. I don't find that ending satisfying because Ramona is clearly getting the short end of the stick and calling it "beautiful". Scott has decided to trade in one-night stands for a hot girl that roller blades; a motive that was established at the very beginning of the show. Scott did learn and mature throughout the 8-episode story but not at the same capacity that Ramona did.

Would more episodes have fixed this for me? Honestly, probably not. At the end of the day, this isn't the comic and it isn't the comic on purpose. I love and respect that. But I think a lot of the plot and dialogue are done so well only to have the conclusion that Scott and Ramona are destined to be together basically. Part of this is also based on "sparks", an established thing in the show. At the end, Wallace proves that sparks aren't a "chosen one" kind of scenario. Roxie also proves this to be true based on Ramona's reaction when Roxie mentions the sparks. Overall, the sparks factor is well-executed. I'm just using it to further pose the question I've been wondering since I first finished the show: "what is Ramona actually gaining out of this that couldn't have been found by walking away from Scott?" She thinks about it and Scott just continues to explain that he won't make the same mistakes. Ramona becomes a version of herself that claims their love is "beautiful" regardless. Which ties into what I said about theming earlier. Mistakes, confrontation, and communication are huge components of how this story runs and are huge building blocks into Ramona's character. Not necessarily love. The same can be said for Scott. But I learned enough through Ramona's mistakes, confrontations, and communication with other characters to buy Ramona coming to the conclusion that she did with *someone*. It didn't have to be Scott. Scott was just kind of there and horny. Scott also goes through mistakes and confrontation of a few of his mistakes. However, he doesn't really communicate them with anyone but two versions of himself, Knives, and Ramona questioning whether or not they should be together.

"Okay so, what would you change, little miss writing hipster?" There's no right answer with these kinds of things. It's easy for me, some bitch on the internet to say "here's how I would script doctor this thing". I'm not under a budget. I don't have previously existing or future storyboards to worry about. Netflix isn't bleeding me dry for something they'll probably remove from the platform in less than 5 years from me working on the damn thing. I'm also not actually dealing with the IP directly so it doesn't matter if I piss off fans because my input isn't being made into the actual finished product. I'm just blogging, really. Just kinda going off. There are a few ways to go about this. Lean into the fact even more that Scott is not only self-centered but harmful to others and have him deal with that more directly. This could have been done in sprinkles throughout the last few episodes, as he is not present for half of the series. This way, he at least has dealt with those ghosts in his pasts. Another method; ghost of Christmas future him. "But they already did that with the Even Older Scott", yes and I won't say it wasn't poignant. I will say however that it passes older Scott off as buffoonish more than the problematic asshole he was established as. Maybe on his way back to the present, from the future, he finds another version of himself that married Ramona and then cheated on her years later with a completely unnamed character, or hell, Knives, or another character completely out of left field. Either way, the Knives apology scene. I won't say it should have been done "better" but given what I *think* they were going for, him straight up admitting what he saw their relationship was doesn't do his intent with Ramona's relationship any favors. For me.

Anyway. Kim's funny. She subtly is a big part of a lot of character's stories and I love her for that. Kim might be my favorite character in the show. Followed by Wallace. If he has an arc, maybe he finds meaning beyond himself and that helps him find sparks. In conclusion and as I've been saying this whole review, Ramona's story told here is great. I can't say how good or bad or insulting or magical this take on this world and these characters were because I haven't really interacted with the IP beyond this show much. As a show on its own laurels, I think it's great and something I'll be thinking about for the rest of the year (a few weeks, at least, since I'm typing this in December). Probably one of my favorite Netflix originals I've seen (admittedly, I haven't seen many). The animation is fucking superb and everyone who worked on this show should be proud of what they did, even if it didn't all end up in the final product. I have my issues with the show but I'd be hard-pressed to call it "hollow".

#randomrings #why am i like this #i just love talking about stories and stuff #cartoons are yummy for my mind

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spacehead1127 · 1 year ago

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Anything and everything, all of the time

Hello Tumblr! There’s a very small chance anyone would see this at all but I’m just going to write anyway.

I created this blog to share my overflowing thoughts and some of my opinions about certain things in the world. I’m very much an overthinker and in my head most of the time so I want to try to type it out and share them, because why not? I’ve been told by my friends that I can be pretty philosophical at times heh. Who knows, maybe there are some of you who would respond to these and I could even meet people who share the same thoughts as me and we get to have great conversations :) I think it’s interesting to communicate with other people through the Internet and learn about how we all think and converse with each other.

You might see by now that I am quite verbal when I write, haha. I would make this a podcast if I weren’t insecure of my voice lmao. But, anyways, this isn’t much of an introduction of myself. As you read on you may get to know me more. So if you’re curious how my brain works, feel free to stick around if you like!

This is a PART 1 of my text-podcast thing: go to my blog to see more!

At first, I rather keep all my thoughts and opinions to myself because of how aggressive internet users can be. Comment sections can be so chaotic at times. I believe most of us here have at least had a spat with some random person on the internet about something and it ended up feeling ridiculous at some point because we never met the person irl, and so the argument was pointless in the end lmao. But of course everyone’s experiences are different, I’m just saying what I have experienced and I don’t mean to speak for everyone. Yes I’ve had my internet spat before, and boy it was a ride. Overtime, I subconsciously detached myself from the urge to share any comment I had on any media or material I’ve seen online. I would just keep them to myself because it wasn’t worth my time and energy. Right now I still do the same, but instead I would read those comments and not interact with it. I find it amusing haha.

In the end, I feel like people on the internet can be really sensitive and well, judge people rather quickly. And to make sure I’m not misunderstood, I mean this in a neutral way. I don’t have anything against the internet nor the entirety of internet users, in fact I think it’s interesting and I’d like to learn more about it. I’d like to learn more about human psychology ;D I’m a highschool student graduating next March and psychology is one of my interests to study. (But more on that next time, maybe) Apparently it seems that words on the internet can cause a huge reaction to a certain group of users than what it actually is. Well, maybe whoever is reading this right now is imagining the voice behind these texts to be aggressive and highly reactive but how I am meaning to express it is actually just non-serious and in a very chatty podcast-tone lol. And that’s how I guess people would put tone indicators just to let people know how the message is being expressed. Either way, it’s definitely not used by everyone so there’s still random conflicts everywhere on the internet.

It’s all funny, because imagine responding to that person irl. I feel like the internet has really exaggerated so many things and the younger generations are the most affected. I am gen z and I’m sounding like an old lady. Wow. Welp, my mindset is old fashioned anyway B)

Ah and this is leading me to talking about a whole nother topic. It was unplanned but let’s go with it: GEN ALPHA!! The new babies. From where I am, seeing so many kids getting sucked into the internet at such a young age and neglecting school is so saddening. (coming from me who isn’t very expert academically either, but personally I LOVE learning. I wouldn’t let my grades define my level of understanding.) And having our new generations (gen z, gen alpha) developing depression and anxiety way, way more than the older generations all because of the information we have at the tip of our fingers that give us existential crisis at an earlier age? Dang. Knowledge isn’t just power. It also brings pain.

I am sorta going off topic ah. But to summarise this ramble/text-sorta-podcast/blog thing I’d say: Bo Burnham says it best. (iykyk) The internet brings us so much joy, almost as much joy as there is pain. Ultimately it depends on everyone’s personal experience with the internet and how you view it. But if I were to detach my thoughts from myself, disassociating with my identity and who I am, I would say as much as the internet has its pros, once you see the cons it seems to outweigh the good of it. (And it may be true, idk, I don’t want to entitle myself to being the truth. Interpret it however you like)

That’s all for today now, thank you for reading until here! (see you in the next one, idk when but someday I will return)

#it's a lot of words ik #text-podcast thing??#hello internet #this is just for the people who love to read #possibly nonsensical thoughts #read if you're interested #if not adios without leaving a word #nobody is forcing you to read it ;)#feel free to contradict my thoughts so we can have an interesting discussion but no arguments i hate conflict :D #ok that's rlly it byee

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alazyparallelworld · 2 years ago

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interesting thoughts... and sorry if im replying scarily fast, this whole thing is being spurred by an all-nigher (unusual for me). the question of whether the problems i face in my life are this horrible woe in need of immediate addressing or just me blowing things out of proportion and creating fake problems by thinking to hard is something i consider a lot, and i feel like it makes me take myself both too seriously and trivialize my own problems at the same time. i think im generally well-adjusted (no like, trauma-based mental illness, and i am fairly happy in life even when im going through stressful situations) and constantly moving towards a better handling of myself/my problems, and this contemplation is just another step in that process. like, is my current "solution" the best one, or do i keep looking? the private journal was a recent invention, and ive been enjoying it, besides when it gets tangled in attention-seeking patterns, though its fine usually

sharing meta and opinions is an interesting suggestion... its another way ive seen people i admire gain more prominence in the eyes of an audience of strangers (still not something im sure i should pursue, but on the other hand i realize that i need to accept that as a creator my goal is going to be tied to getting the attention of others and that its a fine motivation as long as its not all-consuming). i generally keep my interests to private spaces, and if i have anything more lengthy to say i kind of guiltily squirrel it away where less people will see it. i guess its interesting to think of new ways i can interact with the resources i have available to me (blogs etc). i do have a letterboxd, but i find i use it more for my own utility than as a social media

going on my own tangent, one of the ways id really like to connect with an audience is to create some kind of story that people can consume, but the more i work on it the further back being able to put something finished out gets. i know i could start small, like comics and short stories, but theres a lot of work that needs to go on in my brain and with my habits before i feel ready. soon ill hopefully have much more time to introspect and work on my craft to address that. interesting thoughts... and sorry if im replying scarily fast, this whole thing is being spurred by an all-nigher (unusual for me). the question of whether the problems i face in my life are this horrible woe in need of immediate addressing or just me blowing things out of proportion and creating fake problems by thinking to hard is something i consider a lot, and i feel like it makes me take myself both too seriously and trivialize my problems

also- curious about this special interest you mention. is it art, or psychology, or specifically the intersection between these things?

your uncertainty upon, "am i minimizing or exaggerating my problems" is not a question i can answer. however, i can (attempt to!) reassure you that both of these are genuine problems of their own right, and worth your time and attention.

for the first - minimizing - "how can i respect myself better? why am i so inclined to 'shrinking' my problems?" and the latter, exaggerating, "how can i identify a serious problem? why do i routinely make mountains out of molehills" - and nuance exists here, you seem to be aware of that. there are situations wherein i, myself, 'crunch' my issues (because i do not have the time, capacity, to resolve said pain) or 'heavy' them (because i feel it so badly, i need to be comforted, i need to gain Attention for my pain) - and when curled upon ourselves, we struggle.

'simple,' 'easy,' 'digestible' - that's why we, the Royal we as humans, lean towards black/white thinking. to comprehend entirely is to feel so, so much pain and in such convoluted ways - the body's anatomy is pictured as interconnecting lines, and the planetary system is drawn interconnected. this is not reality. humanity, whether in history or in our skeletons below bodily functions, do not exist independently nor in neat, orderly, if/then interactions. there is no, 'closest planet,' because that is not how orbits work. but, to Understand, we curtail.

if a sounding board - to know 'The Truth,' or at least the closest next-best-thing - a social worker could help in a "i got a degree for this!" sense, rather than the extreme of Going to Therapy. i, personally, see both a social worker and a therapist. but, in my previous ask, i anecdote'd my self-taught practice through DBT /CBT worksheets, scientific essays & reports, and checklists/criteria for my concerns. self-help books are a marketable alternative; '50 tips to boost self-esteem' with a cute cover is an easier sell than, 'a study of [x] people over the scope of [x] years, symptoms and recovery' you know…?

therapy also comes with the - how to say this - 'expectation' is not the right word, but generally, there is a 'recovery plan,' - lifelong therapy is unwelcome, and you (royal you) are to be Un-checkmarked. that's why i am not - GO TO THERAPY - bc it's not my place to say so, and there is a lot of implied stress to exit upon 'completion of services,' - …it ignores the complicated reality, too, of insurance, transportation, whatever… for me, information thru SCIENCE! was a key developmental stage, and i rarely see that sort of recommendation.

although. i. i brought up mental illness i-in metaphor, i apologize if i appeared to be… Diagnosing you… [DUCKS HEAD, APOLOGETIC] just, i've seen that 'GO TO THERAPY' is the first recc people give. And I think it is Silly, dismissive, and quite often in bad faith. i am merely detailing my own experiences & self-improvement re: my struggles of (therapy-adverse) mental illness, in the hope that it is either related to on Some level, or ignites curiosity in self-improvement for you.

I. Due to the. Underdevelopment and all, I struggle w/ (blanking on how to say this, too) being comprehensible. I don't speak 'flowery,' I have an above-decent grasp on grammar whether Prose-Proper or Internet-Proper, but my intellectual disability means I perceive language in a way that isn't 1:1. I am regularly misunderstood, whether it be the definitions of the words I'm using, or my intent.

with that the bulk of 'how 2 help' is over - back to art!

mm i write at turtle-speed so i can… Sympathize, with the mismatch of 'time' and 'creation,' I've had to accept that I cannot match my hand to my thought process. Somewhere, and recently, I've sighed that a machine cannot pluck my tactile-formed sentences and prose and unfurl it into writing…

(I don't actually hear voices - I 'shape' things, mentally. i.e Letters are created through hand motions; I can't translate the sentences from thought to text, because I can't realize what they are, either. I'm blind to the things I think, beyond a vague conclusion. This is why my art is so… strange…? and unreal. My art is how I perceive reality.)

'practice, practice, practice,' bluh. I hate it - It's true. The method to write/create faster is through practice - but, how can you practice, if you cannot even start…?! A quick (not necessarily a PERFECT) beta may be of help - someone to prod you, or edit what is existing.

…and matching with an editor can be, just as hard, as creation itself…..

ah, the special interest. I like, brain abnormalities, which branches into the body itself. I'm fascinated with its functions, which is why I begun to ramble on about the nervous system and why I said that, rather than the e- [cuts myself off]

#i ramble ★#talk tag #long post -

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

Text

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

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