#it's hard to explain...

[guplia]

My eighteenth fic for @badthingshappenbingo!

Fandom: Ninjago

Trope: Tonsillitis

Also available on AO3!

Sick of These Movies

Zane woke up coughing for the eighth night in a row. He thought the problem would go away by now, but his condition was worsening day by day, and every once in a while a new symptom of his suspected illness would affect him, persuading himself even more to just get the surgery done. But he didn’t want the others worrying about him. Yeah, that was the only reason he didn’t want to get treated. He definitely wasn’t scared.

He glanced at the clock on the wall– 3:47 a.m.– and made his way towards the hangar bay, where he knew he would be alone. Well, sometimes even a nindroid can be wrong.

He sat on the chair in front of the supercomputer’s monitor, and started his research on the anatomy of a nindroid. That’s when he realised he wasn’t alone.

“And what do you think you’re doing at this time?” Pixal asked from behind him. Zane flinched and turned around to see his girlfriend standing behind him. “Have you made it a new routine to wake up around this time and roam around the monastery?”

“Pixal, I–” Zane stammered, lost for words, before frowning. “What are you doing awake at this time every night?” He retorted. 

She was taken aback by the question, not sure of a response, and decided to come clean. “I’m worried about you,” she sighed. “You keep coughing, and you’ve made it obvious you’re irritated in other ways too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how exhausted you are, and how you’re not eating much these days. I know you don’t have to but it’s something you enjoy that you are no longer doing. Not to mention how the ice you’re making melts almost immediately.”

Zane groaned, knowing that he also had to confess to Pixal. “Pixal, I think I have tonsillitis,” he said, his eyes scanning her face for a reaction. “My tonsil drives seem to have gotten a virus from somewhere. I suspect I might have gained it while downloading a movie into my system from tinyurl.com/freemoviesatninjago.”

Pixal dragged a hand down her face. “Why were you pirating movies, Zane?”

“It was not piracy. The website said “100% free, safe and legal. Rated five stars from the government of Ninjago.”

“Zane– you know what, this is ridiculous. We have to fix this.”

“Report the website to the police?”

“We’ll do that later. For now, we have to fix what’s wrong with you.”

“You want me to train myself so that I can easily tell who’s a scammer and who’s not?”

“Well… that too. But for now, I’m talking about your physical wellbeing, Zane. You need to get your tonsils removed.”

“Fine. But make sure it doesn’t hurt, alright?”

Pixal smiled. “You know I’d never hurt you, unless my system gets hacked by malware, although the chances of that happening right now is about 0.36961389999999999…”

***

Nya was startled awake by the sounds of a loud drill working underground. She got out of bed groggily, and tried to process where the noise was coming from. Underground… what’s underground? There’s… there’s… the hangar bay! There’s an invasion! 

She jumped out of bed, swiftly but quietly, and snuck her way through the monastery. As she got closer, and the noises got louder, she could now also make out Pixal’s voice, repeatedly calling out the word “nine”. She’s been hacked! And whoever broke in must be trying to pull her apart using that drill!

Fueled by her own assumptions, she made her way to the relaxation room and threw a couple of darts at the board on the wall, and got through the entrance, ready to deal with the heartless people who thought they could get away with what they did.

As she entered the bay, she expected to see Pixal’s mutilated body on the ground or something. Well, someone was broken apart, but it wasn’t Pixal. Instead, she was met with the sight of the samurai holding Zane’s detached head and drilling through the bottom of his neck.

Nya screamed. “Pixal, NO!” She ran to her and snatched Zane’s head away from her, causing the nindroid to stop reciting the same number over and over again. “Who hacked you?”

“Let me go, Nya,” Zane’s head spoke, earning another scream from her and being dropped to the ground. The head rolled so that it was facing the water ninja. “She has not been hacked. She is performing surgery on me.”

Nya looked at him in disgust. “What sort of surgery requires beheading? And why haven’t you been given an anaesthetic!?” 

“I am a nindroid. I do not need pain medication. I just turned off my nerve circuits. And as for the ‘beheading’, Pixal said it was much easier to remove my tonsil drives that way. As I do not bleed, I am not in danger. Pixal made sure to be careful and detached everything properly.”

Despite the explanation, Nya gagged. “Okay, okay,” she said, handing Zane’s head back to Pixal. “Just do your work, Pix.”

It only took fifteen more minutes for the procedure to end, while Nya sat on a chair a couple metres away, looking at the floor and holding her head. She didn’t want to watch Zane’s head being drilled in Pixal’s hands, but at the same time she wanted to make sure he was okay.

As Pixal tightened the last screw on Zane’s head, she gave Nya a thumbs up. “We’re done. You can look now.”

Nya lifted her head, and smiled as she saw that Zane had been fixed up. “You’ve gotta tell me, Zane,” she laughed. “Why do you even have tonsils in the first place? And what got them inflamed?”

“I’m not sure,” he responded. “I guess my father-- I mean, creator, Dr. Julien, wanted me to look as human-like as possible. I have an appendix drive, too. I hope I don’t install any malware there too, because it would be far more invasive to remove that.”

“Well, don’t go looking for films on ‘tinyurl.com/freemoviesatninjago’ then.”

Zane pouted. “But Jay said it had everything...”

Nya sighed. “Well, now we know the culprit of this mess. Remind me to check for viruses in his computer in the morning.”

“Remind me to tell Wu to punish him,” Zane frowned. “I can’t keep my nerve circuits off for too long and my throat hurts.”

Nya looked at the tonsil drives on the table. “Yeah, those look nasty. And gross.” She looked at the clock and groaned. “Master Wu’s gonna go to wake me up in less than an hour, and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in that much time. What do I do?”

Pixal picked up a drive. “Well, I could attach these to Jay’s computer, and the movies are still installed on these, so...”

The girls turned to Zane, who rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Use your sick friend for your own benefits.”

[bamsara]

I love blocking people I've never interacted with based off their replies on some random popular post. Wow random user on a post with 50k notes with the worst take ever, I hope I never meet you and will make sure we never do

[tremendously-crazy]

"Do you want a boyfriend/girlfriend?" no i want a best friend/roommate/soulmate that I can go on silly adventures with and hang out with and have deep intellectual discussions with and we can be life partners without any of the romance stuff

[girzapata6]

I can't use the laptop right now, but I want to draw digitally SO BAD... I mean, I could use my phone but,,, aaaggghhh

[atissi]

i don't really like when people say dungeon meshi is accidentally good autistic representation, because while i understand not wanting to make conclusions without explicit confirmation from the author, there's always the weird assumption that non-western authors somehow don't know about things like neurodivergency/queerness/etc. (on top of the assumptions that east asian authors are somehow more naive or oblivious to "western" social issues).

given that dungeon meshi started being published in 2014, it's not really a "work belonging to its times"—it's as contemporary as any other media we discuss on this site, which means it should be fair to assume it engages with contemporary topics (and at the very least, you shouldn't say that the representation is accidental with so much confidence)

but anyways, the chapter "perfect communication" in ryoko kui's "terrarium in a drawer" is some of the most straightforward autistic representation I've seen, and from now on I'm going to assume that laios's character writing is absolutely intentional in that regard:

[buddieinmybeddie]

LGBTQ+ folk what was your gender/sexuality pipeline?

[artsymeeshee]

Another “what other scenarios can I think of to make me already emotional about these two” idea

[vendetta06]

[hawberries]

today’s mdzs x epic vibe…

he will take you into his heart, over and over again, don’t care how where or when, no matter how long it’s been you’re his. don’t tell him you’re not the same person; you’re always his brother and he’s been waiting, waiting

[elodieunderglass]

And one amang, an Iyrysch man,

Uppone his hoby swyftly ran…

WAIT HANG ON - slamming the brakes on drawing this stupid picture - do you nerds even KNOW the etymology of the word “hobby”? The thing you do for pleasure? The thing you have too many of? The thing you spend too much money on and share with your friends? The thing tumblr probably is to you? Those hobbies?

It comes from a now-kind-of-extinct breed of Irish pony-horse. It was called the Irish Hobby. Supposedly the hobby got its name from the Gaelic word obann, or swift. They definitely were. They’d obann your pants clean off.

Fast tough little bastards, built for rough terrain and renowned for their speed and stamina, hobby horses belonged to the Celts, and their highly annoying style of mounted warfare. but their conquerors liked hobby horses a lot, kept them, used them for themselves, and found them useful enough, despite the fact that they also had famously useful things like mounted knights or horse archers. A lightweight Irish warrior, mounted on a hobby horse, was called a hobelar.

Reportedly and in depictions, hobelars rode without stirrups. Or saddles. Or bridles. Or - well - this is all sounding very improbable, because the hobelars COULDNT have just been charging around basically bare-assed on naked ponies, screaming, and somehow in the process undoing the composure of actual mounted armoured knights. Knights who, I remind you, had stirrups. Stirrups are useful! It’s quite likely the hobelars had some gear. And clothes. and weapons. And the ponies probably had some tack - I am picturing a bellyband that you could at least hang a saddlebag on, and a neck rope for catching the bloody thing, even if not a saddle. But the overall impression, somehow created by people on darling little ponies, was apparently quite striking and fearful.

I mean. God Forbid People Have Hobbies.

Anyway after a while, whatever people became the British had eventually conquered all of the rough terrain that hobbies were best at, and horse archers just got sexier, and mounted knights became aristos, and all the bog and forest people had been subdued, so it was time to sunset the hobelars. but WAIT! Hobby horses are still tremendously fun and appealing! They’re so fast! and you can ride them without a saddle! Sure, they’re not up to the weight of a mounted knight, or indeed a lot of guys… but surely we can still find a use for a hobby or two? In the back garden? Somewhere?

At which point an English king decided to keep hobby horses just for fun. No military application. No further development of the technology. Not for fun. Just as expensive, pleasurable, pets. Just for the joy of the thing.

And that is how hobby (activity done purely for pleasure) comes from hobby horse (small horse) possibly from obann (swift.) they’re very interesting and you should look all this up for yourself! because it sure sounds like Elodie doing a bit, doesn’t it?

Today, Irish Hobbies are functionally nonexistent. References for drawing include the Kerry Bog Pony, the Connemara, and (I personally think) Dartmoors and Exmoors. They’re said to have lent their speed to the Irish Hunter/Sport Horse and from there to the Thoroughbred, but every damn horse in the world claims relation to the Thoroughbred, and they can’t be THAT thoroughly bred.

At any rate - you can never have enough hobbies. Just be glad that yours aren’t expensive beasts with minds of their own, eating their heads off in the pasture! …Unless they are. In which case, you’re part of a proud tradition.

[cryptidmickle]

a little late to deny the kiss pv

[forgivenessissupposedtobeearned]

i think i finally figured out what's been irking me so much:

"all girls are bad at math" <- not okay to say, because it is a gross generalization*

"all women are bad at driving" <- not okay to say, because it is a gross generalization*

"all men are trash/evil/abusers" <- somehow okay to say even though it's a gross generalization??? even often applauded???

EDIT: The below comment is what this post is trying to say. I know about the abuse statistics, I know about our society, I know. I'm not saying anything about how none of that is real. I am trying to say how unhelpful and often hurtful the above words can be to anyone.

If you can't comprehend my point from my original wording, please just read this 👇👇👇

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

So... uh...... yeah I kinda like them and their chemistry a lil bit too much *cough* and uh I think it would be cool if the sassier is uh- shorter *cough cough* and the "more spacious in the head" is taller

[rapidhighway]

here's my unfinished comic that i'm probably never going to finish that's been bothering me for almost a YEAR now... This was part of my metal sonic au that I still delude myself i will return to posting about some day. Idk, maybe, but this is the very beginning of the story, in which Metal accidentally becomes somewhat organic (which was supposed to happen at the end of this comic which was supposed to be like 30 pages but i turned out to be weak)

WHEW! well you can look at my old ass drawings of organic metal sonic in the tag under this very name and maybe I will draw something more for this one day, cause I still think about this story sometimes. For now I hope you freaking enjoyed this comic that almost killed me last february, i almost gave myself carpal!

and thank you @mysticruinedme for being so enhusiastic about it that it made me want to post this sooooo bad :3c

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or are there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.