Okay, I have a question. Is it common knowledge among vision users on what their constellation names is? Or is it something privy only to the people the likes of Mona and those who actually do some digging.

And who gives the names to their constellations anyway?

Are the constellations pre determined or do they only appear once the person receives their vision?

I think this was touched upon on the reconciled stars event but I wasn’t even aware of Genshin back then, but what happens when a vision user dies? Do those constellations blink out of existence? Fall out of the sky? What happened to the ones that lost their vision and succumbed to its effects in the Vision Hunt Decree? Did their constellations dim until they received their vision back or died?

Apothecary - Chapter Five

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

she and joel try to figure out their new normal. will her upside-down world be too much for him to handle?

warnings | 18+ smut-adjacent, significant angst, mentions of pregnancy (not what you think), feelings

word count (since someone asked lmao): 5.8K

a/n | we are entering turbulent waters, my darlings. but remember, i promised you a happy ending, and a happy ending you shall get. just, not yet. as always, i love to hear from you about what you think of the chapter, drop me a message and let's chat <3

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“Dead man walking at three o’clock, boys.” “Watch out, whatever she’s got working on Miller might rub off on you if you get too close to him.” 

“Just a matter of time now, don’t you think?” “Better him than me. I like coming home alive, thank you very much. Miller can have her.” 

The folks talking at the stables are lucky that Joel couldn’t give less of a fuck about what they have to say. He’s got better things to focus on. As the summer has slipped into those long languid days before the first snaps of fall, it’s become common knowledge around town that Joel Miller is the witch’s man. And he couldn’t be more pleased about it. 

The men place wagers on when he’ll wind up dead, and the women, well, they’ve got a different look in their eyes when he comes around now that he’s so clearly caught the attention of the resident witch. But it’s all just noise to Joel, who is completely and unequivocally wrapped up in his woman.  

Tommy has cut down his patrol shifts, and Joel knows it’s because of his brother’s own little superstitious streak, though he’d never admit it to him. But Joel doesn’t mind spending more time working the stables, not when she comes around at midday in between her rounds, sharing her lunch with him, and a little sweetness, before bounding off to wherever she’s needed next. 

He’s learning more about her everyday. What’s true, and what’s baseless rumor. Just the other day, he had witnessed for himself her strange communication with animals when she had calmed a bolting horse with a light palm and a few murmured words, the mare tilting its head at her like it was listening to what she had to say. When she had turned back around to Joel after leading the horse into the stables, she offered him a smile and a shrug. Another truth.

They’ve made a little routine around each other, something he didn’t think he’d ever get again in this world, and he fucking adores it. Today is no different, when the sun starts to drip low in the sky and he’s finally finished shoeing a particularly skittish horse, he heads off from the stables toward her shop to pick up his girls. That’s the other thing, she looks out for Ellie, and Ellie thinks she’s “the fucking coolest.” Joel can’t help but feel like he won the damn lottery every time he steps into her shop and finds them laughing and talking easily in the back.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got a good one for you today.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“What do you call witches who live together?”

“I don’t know, tell me.”

“Broom-mates!” 

“Kid, that one is bad, even for you.” Both she and Ellie whip around from where they had been chatting in the backroom of her shop when they hear his grumbled words. Ellie scoffs.

“What? It’s topical.” She snorts at Ellie’s response, nudging her as she wipes her hands off on a rag.

“It was ok. A little culturally insensitive though. That whole riding around on brooms thing is a total myth.” Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at that, and she laughs at the girl’s expression, stepping around her to pad over to Joel.

“Hey there, handsome. Quitting time?” It still catches him off guard sometimes, how easily she slips her arms over his shoulders, leaning in for a quick kiss, calling him handsome, though he can still hear Ellie making gagging noises over the ringing in his ears. 

“Mmhmm, yep, yes ma’am. You ready to go?” She smiles, getting ready to answer him and being abruptly cut off by a sharp mroowww. He’s already expecting it, little paws clawing up his pants leg, a less welcomed development that has recently emerged as Stevie seems to take every chance she gets to make Joel her human scratching post. With a laugh, she scoops the mewling cat up in her arms, holding her out to Joel, though he swerves away slightly.

“Oh c’mon, Joel. Just give her a little pet. She’s trying to show you that she likes you.” He begrudgingly gives Stevie two curt pats on her head to which she lets out an indignant mrrp in response, yellow eyes squinting at him. No matter how many times she’s tried to convince him that Stevie likes him, Joel is still not sure what the cat thinks of him, or more importantly, what he thinks of her. There’s been a few times now when he has stumbled down stairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and he’s found the cat, frozen midstep, going god knows where out the backdoor. How Stevie got the door open in the first place is beyond him…

Ellie huffs from behind them, shuffling over and taking Stevie out of her arms, the feline immediately nuzzling up to her and purring like the most content engine ever. 

“You can’t just bop her on the head like that, old man. Stevie likes a gentle touch.” She giggles at Ellie’s admonishment, her hand that had been resting on his chest coming up to scratch lightly at his scruff as he grumbles. 

“Jesus christ, are y’all ready to go or not?” 

They certainly make an odd little team walking down the main drag of Jackson, his arm slung over her shoulders, Ellie walking a bit ahead of them carrying Stevie like a baby. There are stares, of course, there always are, and even a loose whisper here and there as they make their way home. Or, he supposes, to his and Ellie’s home, though she spends most nights with him these days. 

Pieces of her life have become permanent fixtures at the Miller residence, her “sensitive plants,” as she had called them, lining the windowsills downstairs, a few thick books of hers stacked on his nightstand, her overalls hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it actually makes him quite sentimental, these tangible reminders that he gets to call her his. Though there are always a few nights a week that she slips off by herself, going back to the shop or her own place after dinner. He tries not to think too hard about those times, and what she might be up to. After all, there are still a whole lot of things about her that he can’t quite believe, his mind playing catch-up with the strangeness of it all. But he reckons it’s worth it to get to have her like he does right now, an easy hand on her hip as they get dinner ready, Ellie rambling at the kitchen table about something Dina said earlier at school.

And while it feels so good, this routine they’ve slipped into, there’s always a twinge of guilt laced through when his mind wanders to the world just outside of Jackson’s gates, to his past, and the harsh dissonance between this present sweetness and that old pain. He had once asked Tommy about it, how he lives in this strange sliver of normal after the life they’ve known, and his brother had just shrugged and said that maybe it was exactly because of their past that they deserve whatever respite they can find now. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice snaps him out of his mind, eyes focusing back on her sitting across from him at the table, dinner long finished and Ellie off wreaking havoc with the other Jackson teens.  Don’t tell anyone, but Joel Miller has traded in his usual nightcap at the Tipsy Bison for a warm cup of whatever she steeps in a kettle on the stove. He doesn’t mind the taste, and it saves him a headache in the morning, and right now, the warmth from his mug anchors him just enough to ask her what’s been on his mind.

“Y’know, you never did tell me how you knew– about Sarah.” Her eyes soften around the edges, smile drooping just slightly.

“Well, I told you that I see the world in threads. The thread between you and Sarah– your daughter– it’s a particularly strong one.” 

“Even though– even though she’s gone?”

“She isn’t gone, Joel, not really. I can feel her all around you.” His head spins with her words, tightness settling in his chest, and he doesn’t realize he had been clenching his fist until she reaches out for him, unfurling his fingers in her hand.

“Can you– could you– could you talk to her?” Her brows pinch, lips pressing into a thin frown at his question.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t. People– like me– we all have different talents. I had an aunt who’d have long conversations with her husband who had passed on– but that’s never been something I’m able to do.” He swallows hard, nodding, feeling a bit foolish for asking the question in the first place.

“But you said you can– feel her?” That brightens back her smile, and she squeezes his hand in hers.

“We’re all just energy. Even when we die, that can never be destroyed. So yes, I can feel her with you, and how much she loved– loves you.” It becomes too much for him all at once, the hot prick of tears behind his eyes spurring him to tug his hand out of hers. She says his name like a question, but he’s already stumbling out of his chair and toward the front door. 

“Wait, Joel– just– where are you going?” It breaks his heart, the concern laced through her words, and when he turns to give her a response, his hand still on the doorknob, he can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry– I can’t– it’s just– I can’t– it’s too much– it’s all too much.” Perfect silence, she offers no reply to his words, and he doesn’t wait around to hear one, slipping out the front door and stumbling into the quickening night.

…

She fucked up, it becoming clear to her with the slam of his front door behind him. All she wanted was for him to have the truth, hoping that it could be a comfort to him. But obviously she had been mistaken in thinking that. He said that it was too much, but the implication of those words was apparent, that she’s too much. She knows better than to follow him, having figured enough out about Joel Miller to understand that any prodding will be unwelcomed, so she stands, feeling a bit helpless, in the middle of his living room. But then she starts looking around, seeing her plants everywhere, a few of her bracelets on the coffee table along with one of her books, knowing there’s more where that came from up in his bedroom, and she starts to think that she had come on too strong, that she was too much. 

He was spooked by what she said, there were no two ways about it. She’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere. She just hated that it had been in his eyes. Suddenly, she wants, needs, to get out of his house, and away from the deafening silence of being alone. She grabs her satchel, hastily shoving whatever odds and ends of herself strewn around his house that she can into her bag. She’s with it enough to lock the front door and slip out the back, figuring that wherever he went, he won’t be back for a while. The hot slip of tears comes before she can stop it, hurrying away from Joel’s house and toward her shop, intent on doing the one thing she knows will calm her mind.

…

He fucked up. He knew it the second he stepped out on his porch, and had even thought about turning back around right then, going back inside, trying to talk it out with her. But there was nothing to talk out, she’d done nothing wrong, he knew that. It had been such a jarring conversation for him, straddling the line between disbelief and something that touched a little too close to bone for his taste, and unable to stay up on the tightrope with her, he bolted. 

The Tipsy Bison is quieter tonight, it being the middle of the week, but that’s a blessing to him, not wanting to run into anyone he knows while he tries to fuzz out his thoughts with booze. It plays over and over again in his mind.

I can feel her all around you.

Joel reckons that more than anything else, the feeling that had propelled him out of his house and away from her had been anger, that she can feel something he would give anything to feel himself. Very early on, he’d talk to Sarah, every night, asking her for signs. It had been in a fit of frustration when no signs ever came that he had pointed a gun at his temple and missed. So for her to so easily say that, to bridge that gap he had been clawing at for twenty years, it had set loose a dark mix of emotions he had been trying to stifle for a long time. And he believes her too, no matter how fantastical it seems. He knows that whatever she does choose to tell him, it’s always the truth, which only makes it sting worse. 

He feels sick to his stomach after his first tumbler of whiskey, a gnawing pain he can’t shake, his mind replaying the glance he got of her face before he left, a crumpled look, something bordering on fear. And he suddenly has no interest in staying at the bar any longer, pushing away his glass and walking out onto the empty streets of Jackson, having stayed in there long enough for night to lay down heavy and cool over the town. 

A pause, trying to get his bearings, to get out of his head, his eyes wander over the storefronts outside the Tipsy Bison, though it’s a figure emerging from between the shops that catches his attention.

“What’re you doing out here, trouble?”

meooowww

He shuffles across the street over to Stevie, meeting her in the alleyway she just sauntered out of. Bending at the waist, he offers out his palm, Stevie rubbing her cheek up against his fingers with a satisfied purr.

“Think I messed up a little.” Stevie lets out a mrow at that, and if she hadn’t been nuzzling at his palm, he would’ve sworn that she nodded her head at his words. Joel sighs, standing back upright, Stevie’s yellow eyes looking up at him, unblinking.

“Better go talk to her, huh?” This time, there’s no other explanation for the little bob of the cat’s head, and Joel has to let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Whatever this new normal is, ain’t nothing normal about it.

“Alright, trouble, you coming?” He gets no response, because, hello, it’s a cat. But when he starts walking, Stevie falls into step next to him. 

The whole walk home, he’s so preoccupied with what he wants to say to her that he’s completely caught off guard when he goes to open the front door and finds it locked. Not a light is on inside, either, and he can’t help the frustration rising in his chest, Stevie starting to claw at his pants not helping one bit. She stops just as soon as she started, giving him an expectant look before turning around and padding down his porch steps. At his wit’s end, all Joel can think to do is follow the cat.

…

This is when she feels closest to her mother. Sweat pricking along her hairline, the sleeves of an old work shirt hiked up to her armpits, the backdoor to the shop cracked open to air out the fumes, and a bandana tied over the bridge of her nose, covering the lower half of her face as she works. 

She’s had to make changes to the process in this new world. Where they used to buy lye from the local craft store, she now has to make it herself, leaching wood ash in barrels in the alley outside the shop. Where they used to use exotic oils like neem and jojoba, she now makes due with beeswax and sunflower seed oil. But she still stirs honey, mint, and lavender into the mix, the scent a pure dose of home for her. 

Her eyes burn as she stirs, the sharp sting of vapors from the lye a welcome distraction from all the thoughts still winding around her mind. She’s done this a thousand times, moving with measured precision, the mixture swirling thick and black as she carefully ladles it into the wooden mold. They used to make huge batches every spring, rectangular molds the size of garden beds, and once the soap was set and cured, they’d slice it up into small blocks, enough for the year and then some. Now she only makes a little at a time, when she wishes more than anything she still had her mother with her, telling her what the next right step is. 

She wipes away the cool drip of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, turning the stove off with a jerk of her chin. Some things never get old. But before she can take the now empty stock pot over to the sink, Stevie comes slinking in, nuzzling up against her ankles. She tugs her bandana down from her nose, letting it hang around her neck as she looks down at her girl.

“What’d you get into tonight, little miss?” 

“She talked some sense into me.” Her head whips up at the sound of his voice, seeing Joel leaning against the backdoor frame. She can’t help but feel a bit exposed in her ratty attire, and she wonders how much he had seen. She’s never had anyone around when she’s done this before, and it feels like a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to extend to him.

She sniffs, squaring her shoulders and trying to seem unphased by his presence, willing her voice to come out steady.

“Oh?” She feels like she needs to swallow around something thick in her throat, words getting stuck somewhere in her chest. 

“I’m sorry– that I just bolted. I wasn’t expecting that– what you said– and I reacted without much thought.” Her fingers itch with want, to reach for him, to thumb away the crease between his brows. But she resists it, staying where she is, her hands bunching into the fabric of her loose shirt instead.

“You don’t have to apologize, Joel. I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. You were right– it was too much, and I should have been able to see that. I’m sorry that I pressed too hard.” He kicks up off the doorframe, stepping into the shop, and immediately lets out a few harsh coughs, thumping his fist against his chest as he squints at her.

“Is there– a reason– my throat feels like– it’s on fire?” She curses low, quickly guiding him by the shoulders back out of the shop and into the alley.

“Fuck! I’m sorry! It’s the fumes from the lye. I guess I’m just used to it by now.” She rubs quick circles across his back as he continues to let out wheezy coughs, looking at her with wide eyes when he finally catches his breath.

“What the hell are you doing with lye, woman?” The harsh tone of his words makes her jerk back from him, stepping just out of reach as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s for soap. That’s what I’m doing, making fucking soap. Not whatever all those people you talked to put into your head.” His face blanches in the moonlight, jaw slack at her words.

“That’s not– I didn’t mean it like that.” She scoffs, anger suddenly feeling like a really good idea as she takes another step back when he goes to reach for her.

“Oh really? Are you sure about that, Joel? Are you sure that this isn’t too much for you? That I’m not too much for you?” She regrets the words the instant they leave her mouth, her mounting insecurity a thick sludge in her throat as silence settles between them. 

“This ain’t about the soap, is it?” She has to laugh at his timid question, throwing her hands out in frustration.

“Yes– no– fuck, I don’t know. I just– the way you looked at me? When I told you about Sarah? I’ve seen that look before, and I know it well– it usually means that it’s time for me to go.” 

“Go? What do you mean go? I don’t want you to go anywhere, goddamnit!” The sharp raise of his voice catches her by surprise, his frustration clear in the long drag of his palm down his face, the sigh he lets out as he squints at her in the dim light.

“Then I need you to tell me right now if what I do, what I am, is going to be a problem for you. Because if it is, I can’t– can’t do this.” She can’t fight it down anymore, the hiccup in her voice, the warble that threatens tears, and Joel’s features soften at the little sniff she lets out.

“You know it’s not a problem for me, you know that. But– I ain’t gonna lie to you, this ain’t easy, darlin. All these things I sure as shit didn’t believe in until I met you. Sometimes I feel like my world’s been turned upside down trying to wrap my head around it all.” She doesn’t step away this time, when he gets closer to her, tentative hand reaching out and circling around her wrist before sliding down to tangle his fingers with hers.

“It’s a lot. But it’s not too much. I promise you.” Words she’s never heard before, and now she really can’t stop the tears muddling up her vision and slipping down her cheeks. He takes another step closer, his other hand coming up to brush away stray salt with the backs of his knuckles. And it finally clicks for her in that moment just how much she wants him to mean it, how much she wants him to stay, and it terrifies her. 

“I really am sorry, Joel– about what I said earlier. I should’ve been more careful.” He holds his palm steady against her cheek, dark eyes swimming in shadows.

“I was the one that asked, darlin. I just– I’m gonna need a little more time with– with that.” She sighs, having already reached a conclusion that she doesn’t like one bit, though she knows it’s for the best. She isn’t going to let this be like any of the times before.

“I think that maybe we should take things– slower.” She can tell that Joel doesn’t like that, his brow scrunching up, thumb stilling where it had been stroking along the arc of her cheek.

“S-slower?” She nods, squeezing his hand that’s still tangled up in hers.

“We rushed into this, didn’t we? I mean– it’s only been a few weeks since we really started seeing each other, and I’m already practically living with you.” His face really falls at that, a deep frown settling around his lips.

“You don’t wanna live with me, is that it?” She’d laugh if he wasn’t looking so pitiful about it, instead offering him her best smile as she brings her other hand up to brush his hair out of his face.

“That isn’t what this is about, Joel. I just think it might be good for us– for you– if you’re not in my– upside-down world– all the time, at least at first. Like getting acclimated to a new altitude, you gotta take it slow.” She knows it’s a weak explanation the minute the words leave her mouth, but she also knows she’s right. Joel, on the other hand, still has a displeased scrunch to his face, like someone just told him a tasteless joke. 

“Uh, well, ok– if that’s what you want then– I mean, I guess we can– we can do that– we can take things– slow.” He keeps clearing his throat between words, stop-starting himself like he’s trying to convince himself he means it as he’s saying it. And when he finally gets it all out, with a firm little nod of his head, she can’t help but reward him with a quick kiss.

“Thank you, baby. I really think this is important– I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.” He nods again, his hand that had been cupping her cheek trailing down her shoulder, her arm, until he’s holding both her hands in his.

“So, what does this look like– us taking it slow?” 

“We can figure it out as we go. But for right now, I think we can say goodnight, and I’ll go back to my place, and you’ll go back to yours.” 

“Can I walk you home?” Her heart tugs at that, his question so earnestly asked, only making it harder for her to respond with a sigh.

“I kinda have to clean up the shop still. I can’t really leave that stuff out overnight, y’know? A-and I obviously don’t want you messing with it, so–”

“No, I-I get it, that’s alright. Um, so I guess, goodnight then.” She’s never seen him so flustered, having to stifle a giggle when he realizes he’s still holding her hands and lets go with a huff. He seems to think on it for a beat, quickly ducking in and pressing the most precious kiss to her cheek, muttering a quiet “goodnight, darlin” as he turns to head home, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and taking a few jerky looks over his shoulder at her before he rounds the corner of the alley. 

She turns back to the shop with a sigh, Stevie sitting in the back doorway, head tilted at her.

“What? It’s for the best, you’ll see.”

…

For the record, Joel doesn’t like this taking it slow business, at all. He’s not even sure how she got him to agree to it, he had been so turned around that night, and she had been giving him those eyes… But no, he doesn’t like it, not one bit. 

To start with, he doesn’t like that she no longer comes around to the stables at mid-day, no quick kisses, no easy smiles. Nothing. And he doesn’t like that she no longer comes over for dinner every night, and not just because she’s a better cook than him. He doesn’t like that his walk home from the stables no longer includes a regular stop by her shop. And he doesn’t like that he has to hear from Ellie what his woman was up to that day. He hates that they go on dates now, like normal fucking people, scheduling time to be together instead of just throwing out the clock and moving like magnets. But perhaps more than any of his other qualms, the thing he hates the most is that he doesn’t get her in his bed every night.

When he agreed to take things slow, he didn’t know it meant this slow. He didn’t know it meant goodnight kisses and holding hands but that’s it slow. Afterall, he’s only a man, and after getting to have her the way that he did, it feels damn near impossible not to crave that like a drug.

He’ll admit that she was right, taking it down a notch has made it easier to wrap his head around the things that she shares with him. But it’s been three weeks of this, and he’d turn himself upside-down, inside-out, and every which way around if it meant speeding things back the fuck up.

Laying in bed, his mind swirls with images of her. Is it gross that he hasn’t washed his sheets since the last time she stayed over? He doesn’t really care, not when there’s still a faint trace of incense and lavender on the pillow she slept on. 

His mind wanders to the last time he had her here. It was early in the morning, before either of them had to go to work, and she had lazily slung a bare thigh over his waist, perfect in the hazy morning light as she straddled him. It had been slow and sweet, taking time that they didn’t really have. She was so warm and soft for him, all gentle sighs, the mesmerizing curve of her hips and the sway of her breasts, an image that works him up now in the cool darkness of his empty bed. 

It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same. But it’ll have to do for now. He holds her steady in his mind, a dream, an idol, a fucking goddess, and he palms himself through his boxers, a damp spot already forming from just thinking about her. He kicks his sheets off, shrugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out, pre-come smearing over his stomach where it now rests. Part of him can see how pathetic this looks, rubbing one out every night to the dream of his woman, but he wouldn’t have to if they weren’t taking things so goddamn slow. Now, a normal person would think that maybe he should just talk to her about picking up the pace. But he’s too stubborn for that, and he knows it, and it drives him crazy that he equates having that conversation with defeat. Joel tells himself that he can do this, he can give her what she wants, respect her boundaries, no matter how stupid he thinks they are. 

He doesn’t take his time with himself. This is purely about release for him, and he knows exactly how to get himself there, spitting harshly into his hand and wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, scrunching his eyes shut as he starts to work himself over. 

She’s all he thinks about in these moments, how her hands are so much different than his, still calloused from the work she does, but softer, and smaller. He thinks about the plush of her lips, and how they fall open when she comes, the little crease between her brow her other tell. He thinks about the way her spine curves and curls, and how his palms would run circuits around the arc as he took her from behind. His mind flashes with images of her, and it isn’t long before he’s coming with a low groan of her name, his spend smearing over his knuckles. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been nearly a month now, or maybe he’s just more tired than usual, but Joel feels a particular pang of despair as he cleans himself up, and it’s enough to crack whatever resolve he had left. 

He sleeps better that night, having decided that first thing the next morning he’s going to stop by the apothecary and he’s going to tell her that he’s done taking it slow. 

That plan falls apart the moment he enters her shop. The first thing he notices is her bag, strewn out on the floor, a few jars and bottles spilling out of it, and his heart sinks. Next to Stevie, that bag is her baby, and Joel immediately knows that something isn’t right for it to be crumpled on the floor. 

He calls out her name, but gets no response, though Stevie comes skittering out of the back room, making a beeline for his legs, frantically mewling as she rubs up against his pants leg, insistent and loud, and that isn’t quite right to him either. 

Trying not to step on Stevie as she stays glued to his ankles, he shuffles into the back room, his brow scrunching up when he doesn’t see her, at least not right away.

“Joel?” That’s a voice he’s never heard from her before, barely there, hoarse, like she could only just get the word out. He steps further into the room, peering around the butcher’s block, and that’s when he finally sees her. 

She’s curled in on herself, knees up to her chin, sitting in the back corner of the room. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swimming, tears streaking down her cheeks, the sight all but taking his breath away. He moves fast, his mind screaming at him that he needs to fix it, to make it better, whatever it is. 

He’s quick to get down to her level, palms steadying her jaw as another resounding round of sobs rolls through her chest. 

“Hey, hey– it’s ok, I’m here, huh? I’m right here. What– what happened? What is it?” His questions only seem to make her cry harder, shaking her head in his hands. She brings her hands to clasp his wrists, and it’s then that he notices dried blood lining her fingernails.

“You’re scaring me here, darlin. I need you to tell me what happened, please.” 

“I lo-lost her– I lost her, I lost her, I can’t believe I lost her–” She breaks herself off with another sob, and Joel shifts to sit down next to her, wrapping his arms around her shuddering shoulders to coax her into his chest. 

“Who– who’d you lose, darlin?” She evens out her shuddering breaths with a hard sigh, her answer coming on a few disjointed exhales.

“Maura went into labor last night– and I– and I– it was a girl– she was a girl– and she wasn’t breathing– she wasn’t breathing, Joel. And I didn’t know what to do.” She dissolves into another sob, and Joel doesn’t know what to do besides hold her a little closer, shock and sadness simmering in his veins. He remembers her telling him about Maura, one of her regular house visits to check on the progress of her pregnancy. She always told him how excited the woman seemed to get to become a mother. 

“Is– is Maura ok?” He’s surprised by the bitter huff she lets out at that.

“I don’t kn-know. She kicked me out– told me it was my fault– she’s right– it’s all my– all my fault.” He’s quick to bring his palm to her jaw, coaxing her eyes up to meet his, gentle but firm pressure holding her there.

“Listen to me, it is not your fault. Not anyone’s fault, and it’s especially not yours. Whatever happened, I promise you, it is not your fault, do you understand?” She gives him no answer, just lets out another shaky sigh before burying her face back in his chest.

And all he can do is hold her as close as he can, and will some of her pain to seep into his skin, to make it even a little more bearable, to carry that for her. He reckons that he’d take it all away from her if he could.

................................

taglist (lmk if you want added or dropped): @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @funnygirlthatgab @thereaperisabitch

Stop Using Slurs in Children Stories!

I bet that caught your attention. You might be thinking, what stories use the N-word, or the F-word, well...none that I found. However, there are two slur words that are often used in writing mainly in children's literature because I don’t think enough people know them to be slurs. Those words are cripple and savage.

Before I begin, I need to address a few things. First, I'll only use these words in full for educational purposes so nothing gets confusing. Secondly, I’m not hating on any of these authors. I genuinely think these people might not know cripple and savage are slurs. However, I still need examples of what I’m talking about to explain how common these words are used in writing as well as explaining why it’s a bad idea to use them, so I’m using these authors, not as targets but as examples based on the books I have.

Both of these words (cripple and savage) have a lot of history behind them, and while I strongly suggest, not using them, if for some reason, they have to be used, you need to hire a sensitivity reader who’s a part of the communities that has been affected by said words before you publish your story.

Cripple:

Before I begin, please understand I’ve consulted with a disabled person who’s well knowledgeable in this topic to help smooth out my points. I’m not apart of the physically disabled community. As I’ve been told there’s a big debate going on within the disabled community in regards to if mental disabled people are allowed to use the word cripple or not. This is beyond my understanding of the word, and the community so when I mention the word cripple, I’ll be referring it to the physical disabled community and not the mental one. Everything I’m about to say has already been said by the physically disabled community. I’m not adding anything new or talking over them. If you would like to know more about the language of disability, please read Cy-Cyborg’s article on the matter: https://writingwithcycyborg.blogspot.com/2024/02/LanguageOfDisability.html

Cripple is a world that’s defined one of three ways, to either describe someone who can’t function properly, to describe a situation that’s overwhelming, or to describe an object that isn’t working.

Example one: DragonFire: Sphere of Eternity (book 1)

“I mean, this morning, no offence, you were crippled.” (Describing a person.)

Example two: “The economy was crippled.” (Describing a situation)

Example three: DragonFire: Age of Legend (book 3) (describing an object)

The word cripple, even when it was used in a medical sense has always been a word to punch down and insult the physically disabled community. It was used to attack them and point out their disabilities. It became a common replacement for the word injured because it has a more of a punch. Instead of calling someone “severely injured” use cripple instead, it’s shorter and a lot punchier of a word. Over time it became part of normal vocabulary to use it while describing something as severe, despite it still being used as an insult at the same time. Let’s look at an example of how it’s being used to describe an injury in Robert Vane's A Dragons Chains: Book one of the Remembered War

“I moved my three non-crippled legs…” In this example, the dragon has an injured leg. Why did the author use the word cripple instead of injured? I think it’s because of shock value. Is it cheap shock value? Yes, but shock value for the reader is still shock value. Tell me, what’s the difference would be if the author replaced the word cripple with injured? “I moved my three non-injured legs...” Does using the word cripple add to the sense of urgency? Add to the sense of how injured that character's leg is? Or was it merely just a place for shock value?

But how often is this word used? Let’s take a quick look at the DragonFire series. There are currently four books in this series at the time of writing, and the word crippled is used twelve times throughout four books. Knowing it’s a slur...that’s a lot.

Some of the examples in which it was used are in things such as DragonFire: Fallen Star (book 2) where it reads:

Or

“...he yelled, his scythed tail coiling round, only for the far less crippled dragon to kick him off.” DragonFire: Order of Enishra (book 4)

It’s not just the DragonFire series which does this, other examples include, The Last Monster on Earth by LJ Davies

Which uses it four times in one book with examples such as “Lock these two in the truck with the cripple…”

Warriors: Forest of Secrets (book 3) has this line. “As Fireheart said goodbye to Yellowfang and went back to hunting, he felt a new surge of determination to bring Tigerclaw’s guilt into the open. For the sake of Redtail, murdered; for Ravenpaw, driven from the Clan; for Cinderpaw, crippled...”

And even Wings of Fire, one of my favourite book series uses it.

Here’s a question for you. Is it ok to use that word if the impact is meant to be insulting? In the Wings of Fire example, Queen Scarlet defeats Dune in combat, and is about to kidnap the main characters. Dune, still breathing can barley move upon which Scarlet killed him. Scarlet is one of those pure evil types of characters, this is something I could see her saying, but let’s take a step back and put your eyes in the eyes of a disabled child.

Here you are, a disabled child. You already know what the word cripple is, and it’s been used against you (don’t act like this doesn’t happen). You read Wings of Fire and you come across that sentence. What is the intent behind that sentence in the eyes of a disabled child? Are you supposed to be scared of Scarlet? Angry? Or are you upset, because even in a fantasy book with talking dragons, you can’t escape from real life or that word?

Some of you might say, “What if only the villains use that word?” While I can see Queen Scarlet calling Peril a stupid retarded motherfucker. It’s not something you want in a children's story, so why does cripple get a past?

I hope you’re getting the picture, it’s a very commonly used word, one which the disabled community has begged able-bodied people not to use. The word injured gets the same point across and it doesn’t have a history of it being a derogatory term. While replacing the word cripple with injured or severely injured isn’t a perfect fix, it’s at least getting rid of the other word which is a start at least.

Now before I continue with the other slur, I can hear some of you say you’re aware disabled people are using cripple to describe themselves. Why can’t able-bodied people use it? Here’s the thing. Not everyone in the disabled community is doing this, and it’s not a monolith. The word cripple has been used as an attack against the disabled community for decades. It targets them, puts them down, and it’s only used against them. You only use the term to refer to something as injured so there's no reason to use it on an able-bodied person. The community in which it was used against is taking that word and trying to empower it amongst themselves. You’re not gonna complain if someone who’s black uses the N-word, so why are you upset when disabled people use the word cripple to describe themselves but are saying you can’t? That word belongs to them and their community, not yours. Also, one more thing before I go, not everyone in the disabled community uses this word or wants to hear it. There have been plenty of disabled people who are fine using that word to describe themselves but won’t say it around others if other disabled people express they don’t want to hear it. So be mindful if you’re gonna use it and please hire a sensitivity reader.

Savage:

This word...I have a lot of history with it because it’s a word that’s used against my community, (indigenous) people. And yet, just like the word cripple, it’s used all the time and while it’s a very common occurrence where indigenous voices aren’t heard, we’ve been telling everyone to just drop this word. Unlike the word cripple, we aren’t trying to claim this word, we just want it gone.

The definition of this word is an easy one to understand. It’s to describe a person, object, or an action as barbaric, wild, aggressive, unintelligent, or barely even human.

Example one: “They’re savages, savages, barely even human” Disney, Pocahontas (1995). (Used against people)

Example two:DragonFire: Age of Legend (book 3) by LJ Davies

“I opened my muzzled to respond, but another savage roar drew our attention…” (Used as an action)

Example three:

(Used against a group of people)

Example four: “Savage weaponry” (Use to describe an object)

I’m gonna be using the series DragonFire a lot for my examples, because out of all the books I got, that series uses the word 19 times throughout books one, two, and three. It was used twelve times in book three and I guess someone told LJ Davies about this problem because it doesn’t appear in book four. But it DOES appear in the spin-off series “Tales of DragonFire: Rebellion” twice, and THIRTEEN TIMES in “The Last Monster on Earth”. Overall, that's THIRTY-FOUR TIMES in the course of five books, all meant for children.

LJ Davies isn’t my only example. Chester Young, used it nine times throughout books 1 and 2 of the Celestial Heir books Rowan Silver, used it once in Eyes of Silver: Dragons and Skylines (book 2) And Robert Vane, used it once in the Remembered War series in book 4

Let’s start by showing off some examples and the impact they have and please note, that this might be something you’re just not experienced with. So just like with the disabled child, try to imagine yourself as an indigenous child. You’re fully aware of the word savage, it’s been used against you, and your people. So when you read a text like “Trade with the savages...they wouldn’t understand the concept!”

It feels awfully familiar to lines you read in your history books about your people. Keep in mind, that you wanted to read a story about dragons so you could get away from real life.

(From the Last Monster on Earth by LJ Davies)

I know the United States called the Native Americans savage monsters while stealing their land, it was used as a way to justify their actions, make the natives appear barley even human or in most cases, not human at all, let’s not forget, for a good majority of the building of the United States, those founding fathers didn’t see anyone other than themselves as humans. Reading text, asking how people became savage monsters overnight should remind you how people labelled indigenous people in the past and still do today.

"To confirm the princess’s words, yes, there is an army out there whose numbers vastly exceed our own. Nevertheless, they are a crude mockery of the noble kind they once were, and they are now nothing but savages….There was a series of grunts and nods at that statement...” (DragonFire: Age of Legend, book 3)

I think, this text is a great example of what I’ve been trying to say. In this text, the character who is speaking and the grunts and nods are all dragons with human-like intelligence. They're a stand-in for us. The Elder (who spoke in said text) has been seen and viewed as one of the good guys. He calls his kind noble, and he’s working with a princess, (let’s not forget our history books on how the royal family treated indigenous people). He calls his attackers “nothing but savages”. In translation, their monsters, who are no longer noble or righteous. There’s an agreement with his statement, as if what he says is right and we should be agreeing with him.

In that sentence, understanding everyone is of human intelligence and is a stand-in for humans. We have an old white knight, calling the enemy savages while the royal family are the heroes who are trying to protect their land from those filthy, disgusting, savages. You can kind of see why I’m saying we really shouldn’t be using this word.

“Yellowfang will be allowed to stay here until she has recovered her strength. We are warriors, not savages…” Warriors: Into the Wild (book 1)

Savages...indigenous people, they aren’t warriors, they would’ve killed Yellowfang, and left her to rot in the wilds, Thunderclan is better than those monsters. Am I making my point clear enough when it comes to the history of this word, who it’s targeted against and how it comes across when reading in children's media?

You might’ve noticed I’ve mainly been using examples when it refers to a group of people, not necessarily showing off how commonly it’s used as either an action or an object because honestly...those are just kind of dumb. A savage roar? What does that mean?

Ah yes, because we really needed the use of the word “savagely” to get the point across that Misuk just destroyed a person's skull. The “turning his head into a bloody pulp” wasn’t enough on its own. Without the use of the word savagely how else could we get the aggression and power across? When savage is used as an action it’s mostly because said character loses control of their humanity. They become savage when they attack and the end result is a bloody mess because that’s the only way indigenous, I mean, monsters, I mean barbarians, I mean savage people know how to fight. You often see these kinds of moments when the good guy who’d never hurt a fly loses control and unleashes hell, they turn into something that’s not themselves, they turned into a savage and these moments are meant to be shown as shocking as the character forgets who they are for a couple of seconds.

Indigenous people were savages, with savage strength, and a savage kind of culture. They scalp people, beat them to a bloody pulp, and ate your children. Those monsters needed to be killed. Whenever you use the word savage, it circles back to a group of minorities who were just trying to survive. This word has been used so much, that I don’t think many people realise the history behind it, which is why I said I’m not hating anyone who uses it, but please try to get a sensitivity reader. Get disabled and indigenous sensitivity readers, even if there’s no indigenous or disabled representation in your books, the words you use, still affect us and it’s a good thing to be aware of the words of which you speak and write.

Please be aware of these words, especially if you’re writing stories meant for children because the more children see these words, the more normal they’ll think it is and the more often they’ll start repeating it. I think there’s a time and place for these words, but saying them as an excuse to make something more shocking, isn’t the time or place.

Please read the whole post before commenting. I’ve never made a public post like this before so bear with me if it seams long-winded.

Recently @hg-aneh has been bombarded with extremely upsetting comments since they confirmed that they do ship Crowley and Muriel.

First off, it is never okay to dog pile on someone who is not already in the wide scale public eye. Calling someone a pedophile because of fictional ships is never okay. Lashing out at someone is not going to help them see your point of view, it automatically puts them on the defense and no one makes any progress either way. If you see someone has commented the same thing you were going to say, don’t. It is a terrible feeling to see 100 notifications and know they will all be people tearing you apart.

Quelin Sepulveda is an adult. Muriel is canonically thousands of years old. They might find solace in Crowley, who I know would deeply care for them. Crowley is a character who fosters curiosity and wonder in other characters. Muriel has that inherently, and it is logical to assume that as Crowley is alone they would naturally come together in some way.

From Muriel’s perspective, Crowley is one of the first people to like them for simply being themselves. He is going to be their first constant in 6000 years that isn’t demeaning or critical. He will introduce them to earth and all the beautiful things within. (Just like he did with Aziraphale.) For the first time they will experience affection compassion; they will be important.

Crowley would have someone who needs and loves him. Muriel is also someone who isn’t critical and would see Crowley for who he really is. Muriel mirrors pre-fall Crowley in so many ways, it would be imposible for him not to care for them. They won’t shut him down like Aziraphale would, it would probably be easier to tell what they want.

Crowley also knows more about earth, heaven, and hell than any other being has except God and The Metatron. He understands the inherent traumas that heaven and hell inflict on everyone. He knows what’s coming. He knows what is at stake.

Throughout their life Muriel has only spoken to people once every 300 years. Yes they take records so they probably know some things, but only from Heaven’s point of view and without context. Most of those they do meet are unkind as they see Muriel as the lowest in their ranks. You can see how nervous they are when Saraqael brings them to speak to Uriel and Micheal about Gabriel’s matchbox. Muriel knows so little about earth that they have to be taught how to drink tea. They do not have any idea how to interact with anyone because they never got the chance to. During the season they are in an entirely new place with new people and they have no experience with any of it, so much so that they are easily manipulated twice. Once about Aziraphale and Crowley’s secret meeting, and again when Crowley gets them to “arrest” him. They don’t have enough experience to know that they even could be manipulated or abused. They think that everyone has their best interest at heart.

The knowledge gap between Crowley and Muriel’s is reminiscent of that of movies like Tron Legacy, Fifty First Dates, Fifth Element, the original Planet of the Apes, and Splash. If you have made it this far Pop Culture Detective does a great job at explaining it.

Muriel is definitely autism coded and autistic people are frequently infantilized, but most of us know basic things about the world. We haven’t been stuck in an empty room for thousands of years. It is common for those with immense trauma to find a romantic connection for the first person who was truly kind to them. That’s why doctors can’t date their patients, teachers can’t date their students, and therapist can’t date their clients. Muriel doesn’t even know what romance is or what it entails for them or Crowley. (Aziraphale has also been super autism coded this season so we don’t just have Muriel)

But that’s only the case for the current cannon. It’s okay to retcon things in your own works, to go through different scenarios with characters that would allow them to interact differently. It’s okay to wonder about different characters and see them as a couple. It’s always important to take a step back to see the whole picture before commenting on something like this. I love the Good Omens fandom, it has allowed me to be myself and meet new people. I don’t want this fandom to become a toxic place. We already have to deal with homophobia and transphobia bearing down on us from the outside. We just want to make and experience art together.

Thank you so much for reading through all of this, it is really important that we support each other right now and I hope that everybody, especially @hg-aneh is doing well (I can’t imagine how exhausting this whole ordeal has been). If this conversation does continue please do so from a place of respect. If you wish to bring anything else to my attention, please do so. I am always looking to learn more and I am always open to different ideas and ways of thinking.

Keep being beautiful beautiful humans, and take care of each other.

Lost in the Book with Stitch part 15

Disclaimer: This is a fan translation. I apologize for any mistakes. I’m by no means fluent in Japanese, but I try my best. Please, support the official translation when it comes out. Be kind and friendly, and feel free to support me by donating a ko-fi if you’d like. Link is in my description!

Uninhabited Island - Tropical Forest

Riddle: “Alright. Let’s go find a better campsite than last night.”

Floyd: “Even if it’s another campsite, at best, it’s another cave, or shade of a tree, right?”

Floyd: “Then, why not build a house that we like?”

Grim/Riddle/Jack: “BUILD A HOUSE!?”

Grim: “Well, I rather have a proper house than a cave…do you know how to build a house?”

Floyd: “It’s just combining the trees around here appropriately. Who knows.”

Floyd: “If you use logs as pillars and lean them against each other, it will look like a house.”

Floyd: “Whether it collapses or not is a high stakes bet~. That’s okay, right?”

Riddle: “That can’t be right, they’re not building blocks.”

Jack: “It’s better to be sleep deprived and bit by mosquitoes than to sleep in a house that will collapse soon.”

Yuu:

“Certainly so.”

“I don’t like mosquitoes.”

Grim: “I don’t like being crushed under a log, or bit by mosquitoes!”

Floyd: “Huh~? Everyone is complaining a lot. What’s the matter? If you have a better idea, tell me.”

Riddle: “Hmm. A proper facility where we’re not bitten by mosquitoes, and something we can build…that’s it!”

Riddle: “Certainly. There may be a point in what Floyd says.”

Jack: “Eh? You mean laying under logs?”

Riddle: “No way. It’s about using the logs.”

Riddle: “As Floyd said, we can make logs out of trees all around us. Then, we can build a ‘log house’.”

Riddle: “There’s no need to stand pillars upright. A log house is made by stacking logs horizontal to make walls.”

Riddle: “It’s easier to place them horizontally than vertically, right? Of course, this won’t be an easy task…”

Riddle: “The structure is simpler than other buildings, and even amateurs like us might be able to do something with magic.”

Jack: “A log house? Come to think of it, I’ve seen them in my hometown, too…”

Jack: “But, I had no idea they were made like that. Riddle-senpai is knowledgable.”

Riddle: “I’m going to summer camp, soon. I heard I was staying in a log house, and grew concerned about the structure, so I did a little research.”

Floyd: “Aah, Goldfishy, that’s great!”

Riddle: “W-What? Even if you praise me, I’m not thrilled.”

Floyd: “No, no, really. I didn’t know land dwellers had houses like that. As expected of Goldfishy.”

Riddle: “What rare honesty…haha, hahaha!”

Riddle: “It’s only natural that I’m the housewarden of Heartslabyul, based on the spirit of the Queen of Hearts!”

Jack: “He looks really happy…”

Grim: “The Queen of Hearts and log houses have nothing in common.”

Floyd: “I see, I see. That’s great.”

Floyd: “Well, even if we don’t know the structure of the house, Stitch will make anything as long as we have the right materials.”

Floyd: “Rather than putting logs together by following our example, he’ll build a proper house. That smug look is hilarious.”

Riddle: “Then why did you tell me to do it properly!”

Jack: “Of course……Stitch’s abilities had slipped my mind.”

Jack: “You jerk, you’ve been thinking about that from the beginning, haven’t you? It’s been an outrageous lie that it was one or other.”

Jack: “He’s just messing with us. Riddle-senpai, if you snap, you’ll play right into his hand!”

Riddle: “Grr…rrrrgh…!”

Floyd: “‘Kay. Let’s start collecting materials.”

Floyd: “It’s not fun doing this normally, so let’s compete to see who can get the most logs.”

Floyd: “It’s a punishment game to all who lose.”

Yuu:

“Punishment game is a bit…”

“Competition is a bit…”

Floyd: “No. Shrimpy-chan has to participate. Okay, start!”

*Floyd runs off*

Riddle: “AH, FLOYD! WAIT!”

Jack: “Damn…he started cutting the trees. We need to hurry up, and collect the materials!”

To be continued…

A Dry Pie

Part 5

I’ve never thought that it will take me to a part 5 and all in a few days … so here we are, riding and having somewhat serious conversation. Maybe it’s the last part? Idk! Please tell me what you think so far :)

The shaky ride in a small carriage cabin was mostly quiet. (Y/N) was sitting in front of Jack and looked at the picturesque evening view through the small window being deeply in thoughts.

– Why so silent all of a sudden, huh? – Jack raised his eyebrows.

– I’m thinking.

– That’s kinda obvious, what are you thinking about?

– Well, – she took a deep breath, – I am kinda confused.

Jack crossed his arms and slightly tilted his head.

– Should I take every word from you by force now or you’ll just tell me?

– With this whole situation.

– I don’t see anything confusing about it. What, you wanted me to court you for a year and a half and then, maybe, we would’ve talked about a possibility of moving together? – his tone was mocking, – I thought you too were above all this nonsense that commoners do. Why waste time when you can get straight to the business?

– It is very easy, isn’t it? – (Y/N) tiredly chuckled to herself, – Relationships are always about business to you?

– Please, stop with rhetorical questions, – he rolled his eyes in annoyance, – Are you an over-thinker? Because I’m not. I like you, I like what we’re… doing together, and I don’t think of any possible problems and scenarios in which I might change my mind about it.

– But you don’t know me, mr Horner, and I really don’t know you.

– Please, I’ve seen enough to understand what’s what. Your beauty is outstanding even by my high standards, you have a very… seductive physique, your health by what I’ve seen and checked is fine to bare children-

– Children?!

If (Y/N) eyes could pop from such an intense shock than they would have probably fallen out at this moment.

– Yes, why are you screaming?

– Mr Horner, I’ve known you just for a few days and right now we’re talking about being parents in your carriage on the way to your mansion for me to live in, is this your average relationship talk?!

– I’ve never been in a relationship.

She felt silent and leaned against the wall of a cabin behind her, while Jack averted his gaze to the window.

– Are you being serious right now? – (Y/N) asks in disbelief.

– Why should I lie? Yes, I’ve had some interactions previously but nothing serious came out of it.

– Why?

– Because I didn’t want it to.

They both fell silent for a moment, listening to the clatter of horse hooves outside.

– Than why this all of a sudden?

– I’ve already explained it to you-

– No, – she cut him short, – I find it hardly believable that my physique is so outstanding, that you decided to ask me to move in with you.

– Well, I didn’t exactly ask-

– Mr Horner.

– Ugh, fine! You’re so inquisitive you know? Sometimes almost unbearably.

Jack waited for her to respond with some snarky remark, but she only blinked in anticipation for a proper answer.

– I find you… quite amusing.

– What’s that supposed to mean if I may ask?

– Interesting, funny, cunning, knowledgeable etc etc, what, happy now? – he blurted out avoiding eye contact.

– You’re not so big on compliments, are you? – (Y/N) teased him.

– These are facts.

– Than what is a “compliment” for you?

– Well I think compliments are supposed to mean something valuable for specifically the one who says them, not the generally recognisable virtues.

A coy smile was spreading across (Y/N) face and she leaned a little bit forward to say in a playfully quiet voice:

– Can you tell me one?

– What? Im not in the mood, – Jack’s grumpy expression was sabotaged by his darting eyes.

– Please, mr Horner, – she seductively laid her hand on his knee.

Slowly warm redness started to crawl to his pale puffy cheeks. Jack was nervously looking at (Y/N) as if it was the first time he was ever touched by her. And then he breathed out in frustration:

– Ugh, fine! You make me- No, with you I feel- I start to think about- I’m starting to plan future. Together. That’s it! Happy? Are you satisfied, miss “I’m the most influential critic and your pie is dry”, huh?

(Y/N) carefully stood up in a shaky carriage to seat herself at his lap.

– You know, – her hands were sliding around Jack’s neck, – I’m a very influential critic, and it is very hard to please me, – (Y/N) looked at his red face, – But you did good, Big Daddy.

He was clenching his fists so hard because of this building up pressure that his knuckles became as white as they could possibly get.

– Do not provoke me here, – Jack gritted through his teeth.

– Or what will you do, mr Horner?

– I-

The carriage suddenly stopped making them collide a little.

– Are you delivering some thrash, you idiot?! Be careful when you stop! – Jack screamed to the coachman and then cleared his throat, – That’s it, we’re here.

– Will you carry me in your arms? – (Y/N) playfully touched the tip of his nose, which made Jack flinch a little.

– No, – this small word caused genuine disappointment, – But… perhaps another time.

(Y/N) smiled and gently pecked his pink cheek.

Oh boy what I’ve gotten myself into.

Common guitarist opinions that I hate:

1. Hendrix was overrated - no he wasn’t.

2. Kurt cobain wasn’t good at guitar - can you play serve the servants and sing like he did? Can you play love buzz and sing like he did? Also consider that nirvana is one of, If not, THE heaviest band to reach No.1 super star status and they saved us from another wave of hair metal bands. Give me grunge all day over hair metal. Not to mention all the bands that got spotlight because of nirvana popularizing grunge as a genre. The Melvin’s, the toadies, Alice in chains and local H are some of my favorite bands. Kurt had skills. Don’t hate.

3. You need a certain guitar or certain gear to sound a certain way - make it happen with what you got and you just became an innovator.

4. Bigger strings = more better sound - this one took me forever to shake off. I personally like the sound of really big acoustic strings but they are not necessarily crucial to my sound. And lighter strings give you more options as far as playability. At least in my experience.

5. You need lessons, knowledge of music theory and strict practice to be good - lies. All lies. All you need to get started is a guitar and some gusto. I never took lessons personally, and while I’m not cocky enough to consider myself “really good”, I think I did well, lack of musical education considered. Although it’s not like lessons a comprehensive knowledge of music theory is ever going to hurt you, I’ve just seen a lot of people people give up on guitar (and other hobbies) because the lessons were to hard / expensive / stressful. And it sucks because for me the only thing I ever needed to sit down and practice was to have fun. That’s my rule #1 as far as music goes. If you’re having fun then you’re not even worried about how good you’re doing. Nothing kills fun faster than a strict curriculum. 

6. Working on my own guitars is dangerous, I’d better take it in to a professional - I don’t hate this one, it just makes me sad, I’ve done work for so many of my guitarist friends because they’re horrified of doing it themselves. Don’t get me wrong their are def a lot of things you don’t wana do yourself. But changing strings and adjusting the action isn’t unachievable at home. Watch a YouTube video, try your best and be careful. You might find it’s not hard and actually pretty enjoyable. Worst case scenario you Fuck up the action and you’re right back where you started. Im sure that the guys at your local guitar store are more than willing to give you some pointers on how to do it yourself.

7. Taking off all the strings at once will snap the guitar in half - ???? I don’t know why so many people think this is real, my dad showed me how to change the strings on my bass when I was like 3 weeks into learning how to play and even he believed this one. I had to do it right in front of him to show him it was a myth.

8. Active pickups are better in general - I disagree wholeheartedly with this one but this is more of a taste thing. I played with active pickups for like 3 years and I actually preferred the sound of them without the battery. Passive pickups have a broader range as active pickups have a preamp that acts like a compressor. But again, this is just my opinion.

9. Shredding and sweep picking is peak guitar performance - as someone who used to play as fast and as much as humanly possible, I can tell you definitively that slowing down and playing a tight rhythm is almost always harder, and once you start getting into hybrid picking / finger picking shit gets complicated pretty quick. Faster is not always better or harder. Watch billy strings billy strings play don’t think twice. It doesn’t look or sound crazy hard, but IT IS.

Not checking for typos I’ve been creating this post in increments at work for the last like 5 hours

If I’m wrong about any of these please let me know as a lot of them are just my stinky opinions.

Dogs, Giraffes, Unicorns, and Aliens

I’ve been thinking about how description and worldbuilding interplay as I’m rewriting my WIP. Specifically, I’m thinking about how characters in their world describe things from it. Your characters are from their worlds, so how they talk about things tells the reader a lot about how those worlds work.

Which begins to get tricky when you’ve decided to write a story with aliens chilling on Earth for the last quarter century.

Since I’m discovering on reread of my first draft that I’m actually very bad at doing this, I thought I’d jot down some working thoughts on the matter while I stall on the rewrites.

Let me put it this way. If your fantasy/sci-fi creature is something common in your character’s world, then they’ll talk about it like a common creature in our world. A kid who has grown up with the knowledge of what a dog is isn’t going to say “I was taking a walk and I saw a four-legged creature with a long snout and a tail that it wagged in excitement. It was covered in brown fur.” They’re going to say “I was taking a walk and I saw a dog.” They might even say “I saw a beagle/lab/corgi/etc.” It’s a familiar sight so they’re not going to go out of their way to mention that dogs have sharp teeth like a carnivore unless there’s something very specific to make them take note of that part.

So if you’re writing a fantasy/sci-fi animal, think about how it best corresponds to a real world creature and have the narration treat it the way you would its real world equivalent.

Dog - the creature is something your narrator is very familiar with, so they skip past the description of what a general dog is and jump into what, if anything, makes this dog noteworthy. Are you mentioning this creature as just part of the setting? Then “It was a nice day, so lots of people were walking their glorgbars at the park” is how your character should introduce the concept of glorgbars to the reader. When more specific glorgbars become important, then delve into them the way you would a terrier. “My friend’s glorgbarg raised up on its hind legs so it could lick my face” is enough to tell you the relative size of a glorgbarg and that it usually stands on forelegs and hindlegs but can rise to hindlegs when it wants.

This category also encompasses how non-human people might be introduced if they’re just a normal part of the world you’re building. If you’d say “the white man” then “the hobbit” is going to be enough. If you’d have no reason to have the character pause the action to explain that “my friend’s dad is Texan” then “my friend’s dad is an alien” probably doesn’t need to come up just at that moment, either. This is a thing your character already knows and isn’t immediately a big deal. Bring it up when it matters (i.e. “My friend slipped into her dad’s Texan accent”).

Giraffe - the creature is something your character is aware is a thing that exists and they could conceivably encounter, but an encounter with this animal would be unusual. A character seeing a giraffe in the middle of an urban shopping district would probably lead to more description of the animal than something in dog-land. There’s plenty of reason to pause the action to describe a giraffe, but you also probably wouldn’t spend time explaining that giraffes are herbivores and can have different spot patterns and have hooves. Your narrator is probably more interested in talking about how it’s taller in person than they imagined or something else specific to this giraffe instead of using it as a jumping off point for general giraffe knowledge. Substitute giraffe for bear or another animal as appropriate depending on whether the creature’s presence is closer to “weird novelty” or “oh fuck why is a bear here please don’t eat me.”

“I’d never seen a vampire/giraffe/glorgbarg in person before and wondered what one was doing all the way in Familiartown” establishes that the vampire/giraffe/glorgbarg is something unusual while also being something that is accepted as just a thing you’d be able to find in this reality.

Unicorn - the creature is something the narrator has a concept of but doesn’t believe to be something they would encounter because it isn’t generally believed to be real. A unicorn shows up and the narration absolutely pauses to describe a “creature that looked like a horse, except instead of a normal tail it’s tail looked like a lion’s and it had a single long horn on its forehead.” The comparisons to the familiar enter the description because the thing is unfamiliar. This works if you’re establishing that the fictional world has a different idea of what is real too: “She had thought giraffes only existed in legends” establishes a world where people have a general idea of what a giraffe is but don’t expect real giraffes to exist. The narration will linger longer and it’ll focus on details. The character will compare the story to the animal in front of them. “Although the creature was unmistakably a glorgbarg, it didn’t have the long mane it had in most fairytales” tells the reader that glorgbargs are something from fairytales that are generally depicted one way but a real glorgbarg is different. “It looked just like a glorgbarg from a storybook” conveys a different idea about how legend and real animal interplay in the worldbuilding. The accuracy/inaccuracy of the legend compared to the real thing does the dual job of informing the reader about what the animal is like and how the idea of the animal fits into the world of the story.

Alien - the creature is something your character had no previous knowledge of and never expected to exist. Here’s where the narration comes to a standstill to observe the creature and describe it if the character is in a safe enough position for contemplation or just hits you with detail after detail as necessary if they’re not, but comparisons to the familiar will pop up frequently. “It looked like a glorgbarg but its fur had patches of brown, black, and white. It bounded forward on all fours, it’s tail swishing back and forth behind it. Forward facing eyes and sharp teeth in a long mouth told me the creature was probably a predator. I was only somewhat comforted in that it was small, only coming up to my knees on all-fours” would establish that a dog is a very odd thing to come across and the narrator has no idea what to do with the situation.

The above rambling thoughts brought to you because I’ve been reading my first draft and realize I’ve been writing aritla and zan like they’re in the unicorn/alien territory when in my worldbuilding they’re supposed to be in the dog/giraffe range and I have LOTS of rewriting to do.

Sicktember 2022 One-Shot #1

B | Sunstreaker X Lily: How Many Times Do I Have To Tell You? Rating: E Warning: None Pairing: Sunstreaker X Lily Description:  It may be summer, but Lily is sick, and Sunstreaker takes care of her.  Sicktember Day 1; "Do you know how to take care of a sick person?" Day 3; painkillers Day 5; "Great, now I have your germs all over me." Day 10; "Blow your nose."  Day 14; "I might be a teeny tiny bit sick, but it's fine." Day 18; nausea Day 19; whimpering Day 22; common cold Day 29; exhaustion Day 30; "Get back in bed."

Lily’s P.O.V. It's July, but I'm sick. This is definitely not allergies, considering there are no pets at the base, and I've been around flowers plenty of times without feeling like this. I don't feel too bad and should be able to deal with this without saying anything to Sunstreaker. For now, my only issue is my nose, which I try to deal with quietly. "What the frag is that?!" "Nothing." Hopefully, my nose doesn't run for a while. I doubt I'll find flowers and be able to claim its allergies.

By two in the afternoon, I feel like scrap. I can no longer ignore this. Sunstreaker has a patrol, and Sideswipe is already "busy" playing video games. I'm able to go back to my room without him questioning me. I shouldn't be going back to my room over a cold. Sunstreaker wouldn't, but...

Sunstreaker's P.O.V. I thought Lily would be with Sideswipe. I'm pissed he didn't think it was odd that she didn't join him in playing video games. Lily isn't lazy like Sideswipe but loves playing video games when she's not busy. Crosshairs and Drift haven't seen her. This is odd because Lily has wanted to spend time with Jamie, and I doubt our vacation was enough, and the two mechs would have let her spend time with Jamie.

I find Lily asleep in her room. Oddly, she's using blankets, and the air conditioner is off. Sunstreaker: uh, Drift, can I borrow your thermometer? I figured Drift would come by with the thermometer, and one that doesn't require disturbing Lily. "100° F," he informs me, "this is a cold." It sucks. Lily will likely get a little worse and feel like scrap for a few days before feeling better. After giving me some suggestions, Drift decides to make soup, leaving the thermometer with me. "I thought we talked about this," I sigh, feeling how warm Lily's forehead is. Drift didn't seem worried that Lily might have an infection. To my knowledge, Lily didn't get injured recently, "please don't tell me that you're hiding an injury that might be infected?" Should I consider that Drift didn't suspect anything else as a good thing?

I didn't ask Drift if he thinks Lily could be hiding an injury when he comes by with painkillers. He explains these will help with the low-grade fever and Lily's throat. "... Lily might try to act like she's fine," Drift finishes and leaves.

Lily is up an hour later. I watch her struggle to get to the bathroom, hearing her throwing up once the door is closed. Lily get a hoodie. "It's still warm outside," I comment. "So? It's a little cold in here with the air conditioners." "Right, like the one in here that's off?" "Uh...." "Lily?" "Ok, I might be a teeny tiny bit sick, but it's fine." "No, it's not. I know you don't want to say anything because you think it's being weak. We talked about this. I am a warrior used to scrap to the point where getting sick is nothing."' Lily still won't say anything and gets back into bed. There's nothing else I can say.

Lily sleeps until dinner. By now, she is looking worse, struggling to sit at the edge of the bed. No way she's making it downstairs. Drift doesn't mind bringing dinner up for us, and I don't mind that he's checking on Lily. Maybe he'll listen to him as he tells her to take the painkillers. "She'd refuse if I told her," I whisper, "she thinks I'd tell her not to take any medicine. I already talked to her before about this." Drift is concerned about this, but we decide to deal with this when Lily is better.

"Do you even know how to care for a sick person?' Lily asks as we eat dinner on the couch. "You were sick when you let your wound get infected. I know how to take care of you." Though that required different medication, I did ask Drift for advice, but not often. I don't mind if he wants to check on Lily. I chose the wrong time to hug Lily. "Great, now I have your germs all over me!" This isn't true, she sneezed on my shirt, but my pretend disgust gets Lily to laugh. Lily is asleep by eight. How is she? Sideswipe asks through the bond. Ok, for now, but I worry she'll feel worse tomorrow. I'd rather you stay away. Even if it's a cold, I don't want to get the toddlers and Jamie sick. Jamie would be fine, but I remember the last time the toddlers were sick. Even if that's how any toddler reacts to being sick.

I have to help Lily to the bathroom to throw up, yet Lily claims she's fine even after that. Her face says otherwise with pale skin. Mouth breathing wouldn't be w clue if I didn't know she was sick already, but I know this means her nose is clogged. "Get back to bed," I tell her while texting Drift, describing how Lily is doing.

Drift brings a small bowl of oatmeal for Lily that can't be more than a fourth a cup, and a normal-sized bowl for me. "I wasn't sure if she'd want tea, so I brought what's needed to make it," Drift explains and puts the tray on the coffee table. Lily struggles to sit up to eat the oatmeal. Drift takes her temperature, which has gone up to 101° F. He gives me instructions to help bring Lily's temperature down before leaving. Even while Lily struggles to eat a small amount of oatmeal before laying in bed. While sitting at the desk, I hear whimpering, but I can see that Lily isn't asleep yet. She struggles to get comfortable and warm. Then I realize she hasn't had any medicine this morning. I have to help her sit up to take the painkillers. By now, her nose is running. "Blow your nose," I hand her the box of tissues from the nightstand, "hold yourself up while I get the trash bin." The fact that Lily has to use her arm to support herself is concerning. Lily throws the tissue away and lays down. Lily finds the cooling cloth on her forehead helps her feel more comfortable, falling asleep. I know Lily will sleep most of the day, but I can't leave her. Sunstreaker: odd Q, but do you even leave Jamie alone when she's sick? Drift: not for long though she sleeps most of the time. I know he and Crosshairs would try to make sure one of them is with Jamie even if she's not sick. I, unfortunately, can't do that, and I don't trust Sideswipe to check on her periodically while playing video games.

Lily's P.O.V. I question if this is a cold because I can't sit up for long and feel like I'll throw up. I don't remember the last time I've been sick like this. After a three-hour nap, I try drinking tea. This does help my throat, but not how I'm freezing. Sunstreaker suggests a bath. I wonder if he would if we weren't together? Considering how he filled the tub first, undressed me, and put me in the tub. This doesn't last long before I feel cold, but I throw up in the tub before I can say anything. Sunstreaker gets me out and lays me on the floor, which feels nice. This concerns me, and I struggle to get to the toilet to throw up again. I fail not to cry as Sunstreaker wraps me in a body towel and lays me on my bed. Within minutes Ratchet walks in, and that's a bad sign considering Drift's medical knowledge. Sunstreaker is not pleased to hear my cold has turned into the flu, even if Ratchet doesn't think I need to be in the medbay. Lucky is for being friends with Drift, who knows about IV medication and can help Sunstreaker. Though I'm on IV fluids and a slow drop of medication. "The good news is being a hybrid should cut how long you're sick," Ratchet tells me, "you might have a day feeling this bad compared to most humans." Even if it's one in the afternoon, I don't like hearing that. Hopefully, the medication Ratchet is giving me will help a lot.

I get this treatment for the next two days before feeling like I have a cold. Sunstreaker still insists I stay in bed even though I don't feel dizzy. This is the cold I always have, easy to ignore. The only thing I've liked about being sick is Sunstreaker refusing to go to his room next door to sleep. His body heat helps at night. As usual, he tries to tell me this isn't breaking the rules and who'd know? I'd rather not take the chance. I can have a room at the base three years before my parents planned, and I don't want to ruin that. I feel better the next day, but I think Sunstreaker already misses taking care of me like he did, even if he's happy that I feel better.

The Importance Of Validation In The Mental Health Community

DISCLAIMER: I can not diagnose any of the conditions you have through a screen. If you display behaviors similar to those associated with the conditions I describe, it does not automatically mean that you have these conditions. If you are worried about your own mental health, please seek out a medical professional qualified to help you.

I discuss serious topics in this post. I don’t believe any material would be too triggering for someone to read but I can’t pretend to know how my words affect everyone so read at your own discretion.

I discuss topics including but not limited to: cognitive distortion, depression, anxiety, habitual lying, histrionic personality disorder, the idea of faking symptoms, and past internalized homophobia (Very briefly. You’d have to squint to see it)

I once walked in on my mother and sister reading my diary together when I was little and laughing about what I’d written. From then on, I got into the habit of hiding my diaries in places I knew nobody would find them. Well, after doing some Spring cleaning recently, I managed to unearth a lost diary of mine from at least eight years ago.

Among the entries of confessions of lies I told my parents and admissions of crushes I had on the “wrong” gender, I found something rather disturbing. Don’t worry, this isn’t just a post about my whole diary. Instead, it’s one little collection of words that continued to come up on the many pages.

I spoke to my diary like it was a person. Feeling like I had to resort to speaking to empty pages probably should have been my first warning sign that I needed therapy but that’s not the point I’m getting to. See, I would often apologize to my diary for rambling or instruct my diary not to tell anyone the secrets I was about to write. This is important because the thing that I kept saying in my most vulnerable entries was:

“I don’t know if I’m just making this up for attention, but...”

A child who knew that nobody but herself would ever read her diary was actively prefacing each entry with the fact that I may be a delusion pick-me girl. That’s...concerning, to say the least. The reason I said it was because there were so many people whose opinions I valued that convinced me to think that way.

I grew up with an older sibling who was a habitual liar. As such, they paved the way for me with parents that had little faith in whatever I told them. Most stories I told about teachers that treated me unfairly or random “malfunctions” as I was keen on calling them (ticks and stims) were met with a lecture about the dangers of crying wolf.

This created a disconnect in my own mind; an experience I wish could say was exclusive to me. I viewed myself as such an unreliable narrator that in a way, I caused my own mental illness on top of the ones that I actually did have but nobody believed me about.

That’s why it’s so important in the mental health community that we don’t ever accuse anyone of faking their symptoms. It can not only worsen the problem but open the door to new problems that I’ve been unable to even find a name for. A mental illness that convinces you that you are faking your own mental illness.

It’s a lot more common than you might think.

The closest thing we have to a similar diagnosis (to my knowledge) is anosognosia, a condition in which you are cognitively unaware of a medical condition such as a mental illness. But you can see how this is not the same as what I’m describing. What I’m talking about is the denial of your own mental illness even when you are aware of your symptoms.

Maybe if imposter syndrome and anosognosia had a child with a depressive disorder, that would relate more to this symbiotic curse of your mind concocting new mental illnesses based on your pre-existing ones.

Let’s say that someone is faking their symptoms. Let’s say we have a 100% guaranteed way to prove that someone does not actually have a condition such as depression or anxiety and we somehow know for a fact that their symptoms are inauthentic.

Why are they faking it? That should be the next question we ask instead of diving in with some kind of persecution. Their reason for faking one mental illness could be its own mental illness.

May I introduce you to: histrionic personality disorder.

This would be a mental condition where someone has a distorted sense of self, unstable emotions, and a detrimental desire for approval. This disorder can make a person display attention-seeking behaviors. It’s not like it’s an easy one to treat but that’s because personality disorders as a whole are...complicated.

But I digress.

What do you think would happen if a person with histrionic personality disorder were suddenly met with a barrage of hate for acting out to get attention? While nobody can say for certain, know that it could be cataclysmic. 

In conclusion, don’t take it upon yourself to determine whether or not someone’s mental health conditions/symptoms are authentic and especially do not try to tell them that they’re faking. It can have some real consequences that nobody seems willing to talk about lately.

But I also harbor the unpopular opinion that even a psychological professional can’t determine if a person’s mental health symptoms are “real” or not so don’t feel the need to agree with me.

In fact, feel free to voice your own opinion as you are always welcome. If you want a response, let me know. If my responding would make you uncomfortable, also let me know. My inbox is always open for asks and anonymity is always an option there.

To anyone who might be interested I am currently trying to translate this Henan opera. The only problem is I don’t know mandarin and have been having to use multiple translation websites and apps, a dictionary app, and a lot of googling to figure things out. It’s actually sorta going alright. I will say that I don’t know if the title on this video is accurate as any attempt I’ve made of looking up the script seems to be unrelated to this. So if anyone somehow does know the title of this opera please do tell me because I would love to have more information on it.

But how’s about a sneak peek of what I’ve got so far? This opera has a lot of Daoist references in the beginning of it: the Golden Boy and the Jade Maiden, Laozi himself, mount Longhu, Zhang Daoling, etc. The Golden Boy and the Jade Maiden, while not strictly a part of Daoism, are deities that are believed to help ferry the souls of the dead to the afterlife, and statues of them are common in many Chinese graveyards. Laozi, commonly known as Lao Tze in Wade-Giles romanization (which I have MANY strong opinions of and genuinely despise because pinyin is significantly better and easier to understand) was a Chinese philosopher who wrote the Dao De Jing, aka the Tao Te Ching, which is the core basis for Daoism. There are also references to Mount Longhu, also known as Dragon and Tiger Mountain, where Zhang Daoling, actual name Zhang Ling who was the founder of the Way of the Celestial Masters sect of Daoism, was said to have created elixirs of eternal life. Mount Longhu is considered one of the four holy mountains of Daoism and, as the birthplace of the religion, is home to many temples. And there are also references to other aspects of Chinese mythology such as the Old Dragon King and King Yama, the king of hell.

That’s just a taste of what I found while translating this opera. Most of that is just stuff I learned while trying to research like one or two sentences. To add on top of this, all of that just came from the first 9 minutes before we really get to the story of the opera. Hopefully I can get this completed sometime in the next week but so long as I can finish it at all I’ll be happy. This may not be the most interesting thing to many people but I just want to learn what this opera is about and be able to make it available to people in English for possibly the first time ever. Be sure to keep an eye on my YouTube channel in my description if you’re interested.

Also if anything I posted here is wrong, please don’t hesitate to correct me. I am very eager to learn more about Chinese culture and would be happy to fill in any gaps in my knowledge.

Whats an aromantic flag and why you should include it in your pride posts

disclaimer: i know theres fighting every year about who should and shouldn’t be included in pride posts, this isn’t to argue with people who just hate aspec ppl, this is an informational post. don’t send me bullshit about it

Why should you include aro flags?

many people believe that aromanticism is covered under the asexual flag, so if they include that they’re including aros, however that’s not the case. aro and ace people share the aspec community, but one identity does not fall under the other. It’s less like using the trans flag as an umbrella for all trans and nonbinary people even if there’s a separate nonbinary flag, and more like using the transmasc pride flag to represent all transmascs and transfems. Aros are just not covered under the ace flag because both groups are separate identities. people can be aro and ace but not all aros are ace.

aro is also an incredibly important identity for a lot of people, something we take a lot of pride in. we get relegated to “minor or add on identity” all the time because people keep thinking of us as the -romantic version of asexual. we have multiple terms, multiple flags, and a huge array of different aro experiences, we are not a subset of asexuality and many of us wish for that to be more respected.

last on the reasons of why you should include aros in pride posts is that we have no larger umbrella flag, unless we’re counting the rainbow flag. the aro flag is the umbrella flag for arospec identities. if you don’t include it then we aren’t being included. and this isn’t me telling you you have to include an aro option for everything you make (tho that would be nice) ppl have the right to choose what flags they want to include. but theres been many times when i see people add  flags representing all parts of the community except aro, and then add on smaller more niche flags. i don’t want this to come across as another post like “how dare you include X flag but not Y flag!!!” because i think everyone should have the joy of representation, i just think many people don’t realize they’re even leaving aros out. either through lack of awareness or lack of knowledge on what the aro flag actually is, and that’s what i wanna help with this post.

What even is the aro flag?

Let’s start with what it’s not:

[ID: a flag with four horizontal stripes. from the top down they are green, yellow, orange and black. End ID]

This was the first proposed aro flag. We do not use it anymore for a couple reasons, the main one is that it resembled another countries flag too closely and was getting confused. I’d think this one would have died out by now but i literally just saw a post include it today.

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. from top to bottom the colors are dark green, light green, yellow, grey, and black. End ID]

This was the second popular aro flag. It is very close to the main aro flag now except the middle stripe is yellow. That stripe was changed due to causing some people sensory problems. This one is sometimes still accidentally used, probably because it looks very close to the main flag, but it’s not the main aro flag either.

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. from top to bottom the colors are black, grey, white, light green, and dark green. End ID]

I’ve actually seen this flag used a lot by people not very knowledgeable about aros. This is a flipped version of the aro flag. I also for the life of me can’t find an example of this but i’ve seen more than once a version that is flipped and removes a stripe of green so it looks like a recolored ace flag. These are pretty common, enough for me to have seen multiple people selling merch with this incorrect flag. I think it comes from people thinking the aro flag is the same as the ace one which does start with black at the top and has only four stripes.

[ID: A flag with seven horizontal stripes. from top to bottom the colors are black, grey, white, green, white, grey, and black. End ID]

Yeah, this is the agender flag, not the aro flag. I see these get mixed up all the time. It’s not hard so see why with similar colors and a white grey black gradient, but as someone who is agender and aro, it kinda gets on my nerves when people mix these up. Also no this is not the same color palette as the aro flag. I’ve seen people make designs labeled as agender/aromantic that just use the agender color palette. The aro flag has two greens and they’re both different than the agender green.

[ID: Two flags next to each other. The first one has five horizontal stripes. from top to bottom the colors are orange, light orange, white, light blue, dark blue. The second flag has eight horizontal stripes. from top to bottom the colors are dark green, light green, white, grey, black, grey, white, and purple. End ID]

These are two common aroace flag designs. These flags are used by a lot of people and you might see them included in pride posts. These are good flags, however, they should not be used to represent all aros. Including an aroace flag does not mean you’re including all aros and all aces, it means you’re including just aroaces. There’s plenty of aros who aren’t ace and aces who aren’t aro. It’d be like putting a gay trans flag in a post and saying its there to represent all gay and all trans people, when the flag is usually used to represent only people who are both gay and trans. Again, these flags are not bad, and them being included in pride posts is good actually, but they should not be used to represent all aro and all ace people.

Now let’s go over what actually is the aro flag:

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. From top to bottom the colors are dark green, light green, white, grey, and black. End ID]

This is the main aro flag. It’s the one most widely used and recognized. The color meanings are dark green and light green representing the spectrum of aro identities, white meaning friendship, and grey and black representing the spectrum of sexual identities in the aro community.

But wait there’s more!

The aro identity is a spectrum, meaning theres more identities under aromantic, and they have their own flags too. If you really wanna go wild and include some other aro flags heres some more. (this is not a full list of all arospec identities, just some i see around the most. feel free to look into more arospec identities and flags! also all of these definitions are coming from me and my personal knowledge of aro identities, i do not identify as any of these though, only as aromantic, so if i give the wrong definition please tell me so i can fix it!)

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. From top to bottom the colors are dark green, light green, white, yellow, and dark yellow. End ID]

This is the alloaro flag. Alloaros are aros who aren’t ace. They deserve more support and attention because they’re really amazing members of the aro community.

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. From top to bottom the colors are dark green, grey, white, grey, and dark green. End ID]

This is the greyromantic flag. Greyromantic means someone who feels romantic attraction rarely. The term greyromantic is also sometimes used to mean aro identities that still feel some form of romantic attraction.

[ID: A flag with four horizontal stripes. From top to bottom the colors are black, green, aqua, and grey. End ID]

the quoiromantic or WTFromantic flag. It means someone who can’t or doesn’t want to tell the difference between platonic and romantic attraction basically. It’s got a special place in my heart bc i used to id as quoi.

[ID: A flag with five horizontal stripes. From top to bottom the colors are red orange, orange, yellow, white, and black. End ID]

This is the Lithromantic flag. Lithromantic means someone who feels romantic attraction but doesn’t want it reciprocated, or may no longer feel romantic attraction when it is reciprocated.

[ID: A flag with a black, sideways triangle on the left side pointing right and three horizontal stripes. The first stripe from the top is a thick white stripe, the next stripe is thin and dark green, and the bottom stripe is thick and grey. End ID]

The demiromantic flag. Someone who is demiro doesn’t feel romantic attraction until they have formed a deep emotional connection with someone.

And there’s many more arospec identities!

I hope i’ve helped to clear up some misconceptions about aros and our flags! We’re not under the ace umbrella, we’re our own community. We all have different experiences, different relationships to our identity, and I hope to see more people represent aros this year!

Have a happy pride month!

enhypen when their s/o takes off their promise ring after a fight

a/n: to the anon that requested this, i hope you're having a swell day and enjoy it. my tummy hurt so it was a bit difficult to continue but i hope you like it. feel free to tell me what you think

find part one here!

members: jay, jake and sunghoon

Jay

You love receiving gifts, who doesn’t? But you draw a line when your loved ones use gifts as a replacement for their quality time and affection. It hurts your feelings and makes you feel like you’re easily satisfied by materialistic things. A locket with his initials is nice and reminds you that he’s still with you or a part of you. It’s helpful in situations where he’s not with you.

However that feeling of staying close with him and being able to touch him. Run your hands through his hair or trace the freckles on his face that no one else can see but you. Only you can see him when he wakes up and when he’s going to bed. The times where you can easily stay relishing in the company of each other.

This is exactly what you’re trying to explain to Jay. “It’s not that I don’t love you, we both know very well I do. I just want to be here rather than sending gifts all the time,” you demonstrate, trying to get your point across but the look on Jay’s face tells you he doesn’t think the same.

“I just feel you’re being ungrateful. I am busy so giving you gifts is my way of apologizing for not being here,” he says and you understand him.

“I’m not saying I don’t like the gifts or I’m not thankful for them but I want you to be here. Even though you’re busy with work, a text would suffice. Just a simple ‘how are you doing?’ would really go a long way”

“Gosh, have you always been like this?” he scoffs and looks at you. The look in his eyes is not the Jay you know and are safe with. It looks like someone whose words has the ability to tear your esteem down.

“Like what?” you ask, internally dreading the response he would give.

“So clingy,” he begins and you swear you don’t breathe for a while when he says that. Has he always thought this way of you? How long has he seen you like this?

“Jay… you know I don’t like being called that,”

“Well sucks to be you, doesn’t it? You always want everything to go your way. The others were never like this” he says and at this statement, you get even more upset. He quickly collects himself and you can see the look of panic in his eyes when he says that. Trying to redeem himself; he reaches his arm out to you but you reject it and move back, stumbling slightly in the process. “Y/N, baby, I didn’t mean that” he starts but you raise your hand as a signal for him to stop.

“Just please, leave me alone. Go back to the others that you miss so much. While you’re at it, give them the promise ring that clearly now doesn’t mean anything to you. I’m hailing a taxi, goodbye” you announce and prepare to leave but Jay stops you.

“Please, stay the night. It’s too dark outside. I won’t do or say anything to you I swear. I just hate the thought that something might happen to you because I was a fool and let you leave when it was dark”

“I’m glad we both agree on something, then” you announce and retire to the room you both share. It should be common knowledge to Jay now that he shouldn’t overstep his boundaries and do all those cuddling things especially after the statement he made.

Jay doesn’t come to bed until much later and frankly, you don’t care. Your mind keeps replaying the statement he said. Your heart is telling you to forgive him because he looked remorseful after he did something wrong but your mind is living in the fear that he could say something like that again. Something that can hurt even more.

Jay comes in much later and falls in the space next to you. At his action, you shift further away from him and hear him sigh deeply. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking. You don’t have to respond but I am truly sorry for the things that I said. I didn’t mean them and I realize I’ve been selfish all this time. You’re always more than willing to help me and take what I say into consideration but I now understand that I rarely do the same. You might not forgive me, heck I don’t even forgive myself. But please do know that I am truly sorry for what I did”

You turn to face him after his apology and sit up earning a reaction of him doing the same. “Park Jongseong, you twat. Do this again and I’ll really leave for real”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I’ve heard, now come here and hug me”

Jake

“Do you even trust me at all? Because it doesn’t even look like you trust me at all. You like keeping things inside and it’s not good. I doubt you’re even listening to me now. Babe, Jake!” you yell trying to get his attention.

However, it’s fruitless because Jake can’t hear you from the sound of music in his ears. Frustration builds inside you and you rip out the headphones from his ears.

“Hey what was that for!?” Jake asks, now fully aware of his environment.

“Have you been listening to me at all? Did you even hear what I was saying?” you inquire, feeling already invisible as it is.

“I did, it’s the same thing you always talk about, me not being able to express myself,” he confesses with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. His entire attitude is frustrating you because it seems as though you’re the only one in the relationship. You clearly care a lot about him to be telling him things like these but the way he’s responding.

“You know yourself that you’re doing the wrong thing. Why is it so hard for you to trust me? We have this ring just because we trust each other. It seems as though the ring is void now, seeing as you don’t trust me” you say slightly raising the hand where the ring is on as proof.

“You this, you that. It’s always about you”

“What do you mean it’s always about me?”

“Haven’t you stopped to think that one of the reasons why I don’t want to tell you anything is because you make it hard for me to do so?”

“You can’t just say something and stop halfway. Explain” you plead and he rolls his eyes.

“The problem is, you want to always be in control of everything. You want to know what’s going on all the time and sometimes I hardly even know what’s going on myself. I don’t know if I should even continue with anything because I feel so tired of everything. I don’t understand myself because I want to do the right thing and please you and treat you right but I can’t”

“Babe, I mean Jake; we should take a break,” you propose taking off the ring that’s evidence of your never-ending love for each other. A promise. “I think we should stay away for a while,” you say and move back slightly. Jake is clearly not in the right state of mind. Maybe some things are not meant to be. It hurts though, so many years only for you to say it’s not meant to be.

That night, you wished Jake could hear the sound of your cries but he probably wishes you would never hear his.

It takes almost a month before you and Jake see each other again and when you do, you both have to stop yourself from crying on the spot.

“Y/N, I am so sorry for hurting you. I don’t deserve you and I’m really sorry. I’ll try harder to communicate with you now”

“I did wrong too. I won’t be so controlling anymore, I promise”

“Me too,” he confesses and you both embrace each other in a hug.

Sunghoon

"You don't get to do this Sunghoon! You don't get to leave whenever you want just because the conditions aren't favourable for you. Life doesn't work like that! Stop being so selfish and listen to me for once in your life" you yell for what should be the third time that week.

Nowadays, it's not a new thing to hear you and Sunghoon fight again. Last time it was about his unhealthy habits and now it’s about his blatant resistance to criticism.

"You're not getting it Y/N! It isn't just the criticism, they're directly hating on me and calling me undeserving of my position. They're calling me a visual. I’m not just a visual. I practice for so long so that I can get more recognition for something other than my pretty face. It hurts being called the untalented one, it really does”

“I know, you’re working so hard baby. I can t-”

“Forget it, it’s not as if you would get it anyway,” he says annoyingly and you have to restrain yourself from slapping his face. Sure, you didn’t have a lot of achievements, but you are happy and he tells you a lot about how much he’s proud of you.

“Shut up. Just because I don’t have many accomplishments as you do doesn’t mean I’m worth less than you. If that is truly the case, you should find someone to give this to then,” you snap and throw the promise ring he gave you a few weeks back at his face.

You pick up your bag to leave before Sunghoon grabs your hand and stares at you with a remorseful look on his face.

“Look Y/N,” he begins ashamed but you could care less at this point. Your stubbornness usually gets the best of you at times so you hardly know how to control it. He looks cute but you refuse to let yourself be fazed by his charms. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was just stressed and it shouldn’t be an excuse to take ”

“Sunghoon, I get that the responsibilities of your job are weighing down on you but don’t talk to people that way. I’ll always support you because I know how hard you work so don’t forget that”

“Even when I’m a jerk face,” he asks, with a small pout and you swear your heart constricts a little.

“Yes, even when you’re a jerk face, you twat”

So You Want To Write Johnny Fic

I have read many a Johnny fic that, while still being excellently written, have had passages that made me want to tear my hair out. I don’t attribute any malicious intent on the part of the author, it’s just that generally speaking, people don’t know how to write for disabled characters. So I’ve made a little guide here to hopefully help out my fellow fic writers :) And even if you yourself are not a fic writer, I hope you still give this thing a look! I wrote this with fic authors in mind, but I also addressed a few things that I feel are a problem with the wider SBR fandom.

Two things before we get started. First, a disclaimer: I myself am not physically disabled. I have several close family members who are, and they’ve used a variety of mobility aids across my lifetime. They’re what drove me to write this, as I’ve grown up just knowing some of the ins-and-outs and thinking, “well duh, that’s just common knowledge! Everyone has a family member that uses a wheelchair!”. That said, everything here is going to be second hand, so please, just think of my post as a primer! Go out and find advice written by people that are actually physically disabled. And to any wheelchair users that might come across this post, please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’ve misspoken at all!

And second: I’m not going to go into detail on the “Magic Cure” trope. That’s a whole other can of worms, and I don’t want this to get too bogged down. For anyone that’s already familiar with the trope and would like to avoid it, I offer a few alternatives to canon towards the end :)

Okay! Some general things first.

DO NOT USE THE WORD ‘CRIPPLE’ IT IS A SLUR.

Yes, in the time period SBR takes place it might’ve been a commonplace medical term, but there are many hurtful words that were used then that are now considered slurs. If you aren’t physically disabled yourself, don’t use it. Don’t have other people describe Johnny using that word, don’t have Johnny use it in a disparaging or sarcastic manner, do not use it. I can’t stress enough how hurtful some people consider that word to be, so avoid it entirely.

A few miscellaneous things about wheelchair use.

The term “wheelchair bound” has more or less fallen out of use. Most people don’t feel “bound” to their wheelchair, it grants a great deal of independence after all! If you ever find yourself needing a word to describe “person that uses a wheelchair” then just “wheelchair user” is your safest bet.

It's incredibly rude to start steering someone's wheelchair without them asking you first. Imagine you're out shopping and you stop to ask someone what aisle the soda is on, and instead of just telling you, this stranger grabs you by the hand and drags you to it. How would you feel? Now crank that up by 11. Many people consider having their mobility aids touched without their consent to be a form of assault. The only situations (outside of major injury, of course) I can think of where Johnny would ask someone to push him would either be to go up a steep incline, or to help get up-n-over a bothersome step.

Even in 2021 America, 30 years after the ADA, most buildings aren't accessible. Next time you're out and about, pay attention to the architecture around you. How many buildings have a small step at the entrance? How cramped are places like public bathrooms? Are the sidewalks even? You don’t have to go super in depth into these things, but if you're like me and sometimes get a bit hung up on, like, room layouts or whatever, it’s just a few things to keep in mind!

They make bags specifically designed to fit on wheelchairs, either off the back, or under the seat. Just like other handbags/backpacks, you can get ‘em in fancy patterns or more plain/nondescript. What would Johnny keep in such a bag? I don’t know, what kinds of things do you take with you when you're out and about?

Don’t describe Johnny entirely by his disability.

Oftentimes I’ll be reading fic, and come across a sentence like this:

“But, Gyro, I love you,” declared the wheelchair user.

Or this:

The paraplegic held his middle finger up, not even looking up from his book

It’s rude, it’s clunky, and did I mention it’s rude? Think of it this way: what if instead of using a wheelchair, Johnny was incredibly nearsighted and had to wear glasses? Would you still write about him like this? That doesn’t mean you need to ignore his wheelchair entirely, of course. Much like glasses, it’s a physical object that can at times get in the way, be lost/broken, or used to help identify someone. An example:

“Wait a second, have you seen this guy?” Gyro asked, “Blonde, stupid hat, wheelchair and a grouchy face?”

Be careful you’re not infantilizing him.

Yes compared to the other protags Johnny cries a lot. But Johnny is also; competitive, ornery, determined, sarcastic, and 19 years old. Be careful when describing him as a 'boy', and don’t make a big deal about him having youthful features. Don’t have the other characters coddle him either. Gyro respects him as someone that can hold his own, Diego and Hot Pants see him as a rival in the hunt for the corpse parts, and Valentine views him as a legitimate threat. I understand in hurt/comfort and more shippy fics we tend to go overboard sometimes, I feel I’ve been guilty of this as well, but keep in mind the extra connotations surrounding Johnny. The infantilization of disabled people is a huge problem that affects all of us across the board.

Tread lightly on the topic of his self-image.

Johnny does canonically have some self esteem issues in regards to his injury, but unless you’re working very closely with a beta, I’d steer away from the topic. Injuries and illnesses that result in lost mobility are intensely personal things to go through. Unless you have firsthand experience, it is an incredibly difficult topic to navigate.

If you do want to explore Johnny’s self-image in your fics, remember his injury isn’t the only thing he’s gone through. Johnny also; feels responsible for the death of his brother, was all but disowned by his father, regrets the hedonistic rockstar lifestyle he lived at the height of his career, and didn’t have any real friends before he met Gyro. Our poor guy has been through a lot! ;u;

It’s really not necessary to talk about any bowel/bladder dysfunction he might have.

Again, this is just one of those things you shouldn't touch on if you’re not disabled yourself. This is another problem that affects disabled people across the board, and it’s weird and gross how fixated ables can get on this. And yes, this includes jokes I've seen about him wearing a diaper. It's very insensitive, and it needs to stop.

Yes, paraplegics can have sex.

Quadriplegics too.

Sorry, smut writers, but I'll be of no help here. I don't exactly spend a lot of time talking with family about our sex lives. I'm also Very asexual. Just know that yes, many wheelchair users are consenting adults, and yes, that means they have sex. Here’s a disabled sex educator I’ve been recommended to help get you started though! (Note: she has chosen to reclaim the previously mentioned slur. This is a personal choice, not a free pass for you to use it in your works.)

DO NOT USE THE WORD ‘CRIPPLE’ IT IS A SLUR.

Once more, if you didn’t get it the first time.

And now here’s some rambling more specific to Johnny’s injury.

(And when I say this is a ramble, I mean it. Sorry lol.)

So Johnny’s paraplegia (we’ll get back to that term in a second) is the result of a spinal cord injury (SCI), but there’s a lot of different things that could mean. Spines are complicated, and I’m gonna try here to not only work out what happened in canon, but also how you could translate it into your various AUs!

Here’s your spine.

As you can see, it’s sectioned off into four parts, and each vertebrae is numbered. SCIs are roughly identified by the specifically affected vertebra. So for instance, if you break your neck you might have a C1 fracture, C2 fracture, C3 fracture, ect.

Now here’s Johnny immediately after being shot.

Just eyeballing this, it looks like he’s been shot through the abdomen/mid back, which would mean his injury is lower thoracic/possibly upper lumbar. Injuries to these areas can result in loss of sensation below the injury site, lifelong chronic back and abdominal pain, some difficulty breathing, and yes, complete or incomplete paraplegia. (See, I told you we’d get back to that.)

Complete paraplegia is pretty straight forward, it means all of the nerves at the site of the injury have been totally severed. That’s it. Absolutely no sensation, (though some people still experience nerve/phantom pain, because the human body plan is only slightly better designed than the horse’s). This is probably what most people think of when they hear ‘paraplegia’. Even with modern medical science, there’s not really anything that can be done here. Nerves are complicated, man.

Incomplete paraplegia is a lot more varied. All it means is you at least have some sensation in one or both of your legs. This can range anywhere from; total paralysis in one leg and completely normal function in the other, total paralysis in one leg and reduced functionality in the other, reduced functionality in both legs but not full paralysis. The possible experiences here are vast, and I again want to encourage you to seek out blogs/vlogs/books/ect by physically disabled people. Someone with incomplete paraplegia might use a wheelchair full time, walk with crutches or a cane, or switch between mobility aids depending on their pain and energy levels.

It’s also possible for incomplete paraplegia to degenerate to complete paraplegia later in a person's life, either due to inadequate medical care, further health complications down the line, or simply the slow and inevitable march of time that comes for us all!

Okay, here’s where things start to get more subjective.

My personal headcanon is Johnny is an incomplete paraplegic who (assuming he gets proper treatment), would be able to walk with the help of some kind of mobility aid.

From what little we see of Johnny's time in the hospital, we can tell it's absolute dogshit. I'm not qualified to speak on what may or may not have happened surgically wise, but I feel like it's safe to say he never received any kind of physical therapy.

When Johnny wakes up, he's almost completely unable to move. That's most likely due to spinal shock. Once someone with a SCI has been stabilized and is, you know, no longer dying, the injury site becomes inflamed. While the vertebrae and surrounding tissues are inflamed, any signals from the brain are going to have a very hard time traveling past the injury site. Spinal shock can last anywhere from about a week to over a year. After the inflammation subsides, a person may find that they have more functionality than they originally thought. But, in all that time spent healing, the person is losing muscle mass and the nerve pathways are going unused.

My idea here is with real post-op care, Johnny would've been able to walk, either with crutches or a cane. Though he would still have his wheelchair for high pain days and days where he would otherwise have to be on his feet for longer than would be comfortable. Given that by the end of SBR Johnny has both the power of god and anime on his side, I don't think "Jesus retroactively gives Johnny physical therapy" is too outlandish of an idea.

It’s important to remember that the spectrum of experience here is massive! Even if you decide to go along with my specific headcanon, the scenario I outlined here could lead to anything from "Johnny can walk with mobility aids, but it's very painful for him", to "Johnny can walk with mobility aids, and he rarely needs to use his wheelchair", and anywhere in between!

Keep in mind all of the terminology I've used here is very modern. I don’t know much about medical history, so I’m afraid I’ll be no help in keeping your fic 100% historically accurate, but I’m sure few will fault you for that :P

Welp, I think that's it! Thanks to my awful sister @heartattackkidd​ for reading over this, and thank you for sticking with me all the way through! And remember, just think of this as a primer on the topic.

I hope I've been of some help to you, reader. Reblogs are highly appreciated <3  Now go forth, and write fic!

Love Conquers All

Zuko x Male Reader

Word Count: 1856

-------------

Y/n could understand where Zuko was coming from, but he knew he wouldn't be surprised if it didn't go as well as he had perhaps envisioned.

It was all very well and good that he had finally found his way, but he had hurt the Avatars group a fair bit before finding his way. Y/n also knew that as someone who had been a part of Zuko's attempts to hurt them, he had no leg to stand on in helping smooth the situation over. He hadn't been as single-minded in his focus on capturing the Avatar, but he had only cared because Zuko cared.

He didn't think that would matter to them, but then, Y/n didn't particularly care one way or the other how they felt about him. The only person who mattered to him was Zuko. Well, and Iroh, but that was a given of anyone who had met the calm old man.

When they made it to the kids campsite Y/n hung back, staying by the exit. It wasn't that he didn't trust them not to ambush him and Zuko, oh wait, it was that. Never mind.

Y/n watched the exchange carefully. He could feel it in the air mere seconds before she struck.

Faster than their eyes could follow, Y/n moved. By the time that everyone had caught up with the events, Y/n was standing in front of Zuko, sheathing his sword after having deflected Katara's water whip.

Silence reigned for a single heartbeat. Then Katara shrieked in outrage.

"How dare you!"

Y/n was sure she was still speaking, but he had a habit of being selectively deaf when it most benefited him.

And then, with almost no warning she was throwing water at him with increasingly wild movements.

It was no match for Y/n's technique.

It wasn't common knowledge, in fact, he had hidden it for most of his life, but Y/n was an airbender.

Yeah, literally the biggest lie in their world was that there were no more airbenders. The Air Nomads had had the practice of removing non-benders from their society and giving them to the other kingdoms.

What they didn't know was that all it took was for the right circumstances to happen and suddenly you had airbenders in the descendants of those non-benders.

It didn't change much ultimately, they were so few that they wouldn't ever be considered a threat to anyone, not that the Air Nomads had been when the Fire Nation had attacked them a hundred years ago.

What it all came down to, was a confused child suddenly developing powers that no one was able to control anymore.

Luckily for Y/n, the only person who had been around the first time he had bended was Zuko. As secrets tend to do, it had bound the two closer together than anyone would have thought ever since that day.

It was a loyalty that had seen Y/n stowing away on the ship Zuko had been banished on, and one that had been returned by Zuko had never once considered that the apparently Fire Nation child could be the reborn Avatar.

What it came down to, was that Katara was having no luck besting Y/n. Much as he wanted to put her in her place properly, Y/n knew that what they were trying to accomplish here would be hurt by that. From the looks of things though, they might have lost that chance.

Y/n stayed on the defensive, letting her tire herself out instead of outright attacking. He was worried about the look the Avatar was giving him though. That wide eyed expression couldn't mean anything good for his secret. He had always known that it would come out eventually, but he had hoped it would last longer than this dammit!

"Katara stop!"

The kid was trying to get in between then now, but the water tribe girl was apparently past the point of caring. She was just not backing down.

"Wait, I wanna talk to him!"

"No! They need to get out of here and never come back!"

Y/n was sure that her words might have been more intimidating if she weren't so clearly out of her league. He decided to ignore the voice in the back of his head that whispered that if he had used even half of his abilities properly before this they might have caught the Avatar long ago.

The element of surprise couldn't be taken for granted after all, and judging from the kid's reaction just now, all they would have had to do was show him Y/n's powers and he probably would have stayed on the ship that first day.

Y/n pulled himself out of his thoughts with a shrug. It was a bit late for that right now.

The Avatar had managed to get between Y/n and Katara, and seemed to be trying to talk her down from her rage. Y/n watched, only mildly interested. This wasn't how he had thought today would go.

He turned to Zuko, who was still standing behind him.

"Are you okay?"

He just looked Y/n over, head to toe looking for injuries.

"I'm fine, but are you sure it was a good idea to show them that? I could have taken a few hits. I've had worse before, you know that."

Y/n clenched his jaw at the reminder.

"I know. I'm sorry. You know how I feel about you willingly putting yourself in danger though. You didn't even try to defend yourself. Don't think I didn't spot that."

Y/n leveled a flat stare at Zuko.

He at least had the good grace to blush in shame and hide behind his fringe.

Y/n turned back to the group of kids gathered in front of them.

He gave them his best blank stare. He had nothing more to say to them, this was about Zuko teaching the Avatar firebending after all.

Besides, he was sure that anything he said would be twisted around and spat back at him by the water tribe girl.

"You're an airbender!"

Y/n refused to give up his secret that easily.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The little blind girl perked up.

"You're lying. You are an airbender? I thought they were all wiped out."

Y/n stubbornly refused to respond. He could see the water tribe girl's eye narrow at his silence. She was just about to explode on him again when Y/n felt a shift in the air. Less than a second later he felt Zuko's hand on his shoulder.

He slumped slightly. Damn Zuko's soft heart.

"Yes. I can bend air."

The shout of pure joy that the Avatar let out was enough to make Y/n feel slightly guilty about keeping it from him the whole time he had been after him.

"I'm not alone! There must be more, right? Some of the monks survived and hid right? Please tell me!"

Man, this kid was excitable, and as happy as he was, Y/n didn't want to be the one to tell him that he was wrong. He couldn't take the soft option of letting Zuko tell him though, they would probably turn on the both of them and Zuko wouldn't be able to fulfill his destiny.

"No."

"No you're not going to tell him?"

That girl was really starting to get on Y/n's nerves.

"No, they didn't survive."

That shut her up.

It also made the kid tear up, but there was no point building a lie just to make him feel better in this moment. That would be more cruel than the truth.

"The only reason that I exist right now is because of your ancestors though. Your people had a practice of testing their babies for airbending potential."

The Avatar was nodding along. Good, this wouldn't be a surprise to him.

"Well, when they showed to be non-benders your people gave them away. They were sent off to the other kingdoms, not welcome in, nor considered to be, a part of the Air Nomads."

"Air Nomads are airbenders, so if they aren't airbenders they aren't Air Nomads. That's just the way things are."

Y/n grit his teeth. It was an old hurt, but it still stung. He pulled in a deep breath and the only thing that stopped him from screaming about the injustice of it all was Zuko's hand that was still on his shoulder lending him the strength to continue.

"Your people were wrong. Occasionally their methods would be wrong, and they would let a bender slip away into another kingdom. But more than that, its in our blood, in the thing that makes us who we are. When enough of your ancestors were born from the Air Nomads, no matter whether they could bend themselves or not, you have the possibility to end up as a bender."

The Avatar's jaw was hanging open as he stared in horror at Y/n.

"But, they couldn't possibly have known that! If they had, maybe they wouldn't have done what they did."

Y/n's eyes shone with a dark light. This was something he would ultimately have to give up, but it was worth planting the seed if he could.

"So your saying that the only possible use non-benders have is the possibility of benders being born from them?"

The Avatar stopped cold and stared at Y/n in horror.

"What? No! Of course not!"

"Then what? You had no problem with the idea that they would be thrown away like yesterday's garbage up until now. The only thing that's changed is this piece of information."

Y/n pulled back as he saw the tears form in the Avatar's eyes.

"Think on that for a while. You have a non-bender in your group. Do you consider him to be useless?"

The kids all looked like they had been hit over the head.

Y/n was sure that this would be the end of their interaction for the day.

"We'll come back tomorrow. Maybe then we can talk without resorting to violence."

He turned back to Katara who looked like she was getting ready to unleash whatever thoughts had been happening in that head of hers.

"Before you put your foot in it, consider this. We have two things you want. One you desperately need, the other, something you desperately want. Have a good night."

Zuko turned and walked back the way they had come, with Y/n bringing up the rear. He didn't trust them not to attack them from behind.

Y/n hoped that with the reminder that they needed Zuko to teach the Avatar firebending, they would be more open to meeting the next day. If that weren't enough, then there was the added bonus of Y/n being the only other airbender that they knew. He was sure that the Avatar wouldn't be able to resist the pull to be around someone who was like him for long.

Either way, they still had a long way to go to convince them that they didn't want to hurt them and that this wasn't a trap.

'Oh well,' Y/n thought as he lay sleepily beside their fire, 'things always look better in the morning.'

It’s A Manual, Obviously | Masterlist | Pairing: mechanic!San x gn!reader Word Count: 2k Genre: Suggestive Warnings: Sexual innuendos, profanity, little bit of dom!San energy if you’re looking for it, use of she/her but it’s referring to the car and not the reader, light bickering/name calling, use of “sweetheart” A/n: I don’t know if I’m more mad at myself for coming up with this idea, or y’all for getting enough notes on my post to make me write it. Filthy sinners, all of ya. Here’s your greasy boy San. I have a limited knowledge of car repair so some of this is entirely made up lmao. If someone wants to write a smut based on this, I will absolutely read it. Please like/reblog if you enjoyed it! tags: @hopexclouds @wooyoungsbae @wtfyunho @yungisstar1117 @jenossslut @maarkcraft @yunkiwii @nymeriaaa @troy-on-sea @hjsraccoon @dazzling-lightzzz @sanraes @baguette-atiny (please message me to be added/removed from this list at any time) --------- Head mechanic, a title you once held with so much pride. Working on cars had truly been your passion for years, but you were on to bigger and better things in life. That’s not to say that working on cars was a bad thing... just that you had grown out of it over the years. You preferred to take your car into your old shop to watch the boys work, particularly the head mechanic that replaced you, Choi San. Normally you would cautiously watch from afar while your former coworkers tuned up minor things, trusting that they wouldn’t screw anything up as they had proven their skills to you multiple times. Today, though, was a perfect day to do some closer boy-watching... and you were going to see what this San person could really do.

Your garage had a couple different cars to choose from, but you picked the one that was in quite a state of disrepair. There were more things wrong with it than you could count, and you’d be surprised if it even made the drive there. It had been a project car that you abandoned when your schedule became too hectic to bother with it. It still had quite a few tricks up its sleeve, but you wanted to see if you could really test this new head mechanics skills. Luckily, you had already let your former coworkers know that you were coming and that you specifically wanted San freed up for the day. The only promise? They couldn’t tell him why he needed to be free all day. ----- “Wooyoung, can you pull that car inside for me?” San called as you handed the keys over to the front attendant. You smirked, knowing full well that Wooyoung couldn’t touch that car. “Uh... Sannie, I can’t do that.” Wooyoung replied, eyeing you down as you made your way into the large garage to watch the first mistake San would make today. “What? Why-” “It’s a manual, obviously.” You cut him off, pointing to the work order hanging by the door. “The only tech you have that can drive a stick shift is Yunho.” A smirk took your lips quicker than you expected as you hid most of your expression behind your sunglasses. Always check the paperwork first, you never know what you might be dealing with. If a car is broken enough that it can’t be properly driven into the shop, you’ll destroy it by trying. “(your name)?” San’s voice was more smug than you would’ve liked it to be. “I’ve heard a lot about you. So I finally get to meet you in person, and work on your car?” He smiled a daringly smug smile, taking the keys from the rack mounted to the wall. “Yunho’s not here today, guess I’ll have to do it myself.” You watched him through the tinted lenses of your sunglasses, listening very closely for any dropped gears or the telltale signs of stalling the engine. It was all too common for newer stick shift drivers to miscalculate the timing on the clutch and stall it out. Much to your satisfaction (and a bit of disappointment at not being able to taunt him about it), he got the car safely into the garage and onto the lift. Being such a gentleman, he didn’t even slam the door. Just rocked it gently closed with the lightest thump. “So what am I doing to her today?” His voice was light and airy, almost cheerful to be at your service. This was a trap, but you weren’t entirely sure how. Either he was more confident than he should be, or he was skilled enough to be certain he would impress you. Either way it made your blood boil in an oddly satisfying way. “The better question would be, what aren’t you doing to her today?” You chuckled. “Lets see.. you could start with brakes and rotors, oh and you might as well replace those calipers too. They’re looking pretty bad these days. Fuel injectors could use a cleaning.” You snapped the gum you had been chewing, trying to think of what all you really wanted to see him do. These were just basic things that anyone here should be able to do... how could you really put him on the spot? “Oh, of course, there’s a weird electrical problem going on. I’ve checked the alternator, it’s definitely not that. Probably trace the wires back and see if there’s damage, or maybe an issue with the fuses? Dash lights keep flashing erratically at random intervals.” His eyes had never left yours as you spoke to him, hoping all the information was getting in. He nodded, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “I’ll do everything in that order, including flushing the brake fluid since we’re replacing calipers.” He smirked at you, hoping to have caught you slipping up but you were always a step ahead. “Well of course, that’s standard when you replace calipers. If I have to specify that it needs done, then you’re not following the proper steps.” You blew a small bubble with your gum, letting it loudly pop before gathering it back up with your tongue. “I’ve got all day, you can stand here and admire me for as long as you want. But I’d suggest you get started if you want it to still be daylight by the time you’re done.” The other boys snickered and laughed at your attitude, remembering the tough time you gave all of them when they were training with you. San scoffed playfully, turning his attention to your car. As he made sure the lift was properly secured, he reached for the button to start it. But of course, you had something to say about that as well. “Watch the neon underglows, sweetheart, they probably cost more than your car is worth.” You called out. “Break them and you’ll owe me a new set.” You pointed to the delicate neon tubes running along the underbody. Genuine neons were not only rare, but extremely delicate. So delicate, in fact, that you could only drive this car 3 or 4 months out of the year before risking the tubes shattering due to temperature change. LED versions would have been more practical, but you wanted to be extra for once. “That’s why I secured the lift on a secondary anchor spot instead of the main one that you covered up.” San shot back at you, lifting the car to the desired height. “Better hope they’re not causing your electrical problem or I’ll just have to take them off.” He continued, grabbing some tools and screwing the lug nuts off your tires. You laughed under your breath, knowing those tires were probably stuck on there way too well. He’d have quite the time getting them off. As you watched him struggle with the tire, you couldn’t help but push your sunglasses down your nose to get a better view. His arms were shiny with sweat and speckled with black spots of oil and grease. His muscles bulging and straining as he hopelessly tugged at the stuck tire. Sighing in frustration, he grabbed an old tire sitting in the corner of the garage and beat it against your tire, trying to shake it loose from its chokehold on the axle. No such luck, it was as stuck as ever. Just as you were about to make a suggestion, he let out a frustrated grunt that made you shut your mouth so fast you didn’t even realize you had it open in the first place. “Jongho! Come help me with this!” The youngest teammate walked over, laughing at a struggling San. Together, the two boys braced their shoulders on the front of the tire, San holding his hand above his head to catch it. “One, two, three- fuck!” They both slammed their body weight into the tire, causing it to wobble off the supports and nearly take them both out as he struggled to catch it. Once he had ahold of it, he let it slide down his arm, leaving a greasy trail behind it before it bounced onto the concrete. The entire brake job went so smoothly that you couldn’t even make a sarcastic remark if you tried. He had very clearly done this hundreds of times, going so far as to multitask two tires at a time while giving commands to the other boys to fetch him parts and tools. All the while, he made sure to look back and confirm that you were watching, often making a face at you and turning around before you could say anything. Cleaning the fuel injectors was pretty straightforward and hands-off. Just disconnect the gas, hook up the cleaner, run the car through the cycle. As he watched the engine churning under the hood while he waited, he leaned back against the nearby counter. His back arched as he flung his head backwards, trying to appear as though he was just stretching out his spine. His muscles tensed again as he pulled his arms up to stretch them, giving a slightly forced yawn before shaking his head and looking over at you. Hearing the engine wind down, he quickly licked his bottom lip before turning back to the car and disconnecting everything. That was a sight you needed to calm down from for a moment. “So this electrical problem...” San started, snapping you completely out of your daydreaming about his tongue. “Anything that triggers it?” “Not that I can tell.” You got up from your seat on the cold concrete, confidently walking over to the car as if you hadn’t just been imagining him... ah, don’t think about it. He can see it in your face. Focus. He dug his hands down into the engine bay, tracing various wires lightly with his fingers, feeling for any stripped or damaged wiring. He mumbled to himself, giving you a subtle look every once in a while as he made his way up and down the brightly colored plastic casings. Upon finding the wires in perfect shape, he pulled open the fuse box. “Fuse 32.” You stated without giving the fuse box another look. You had them memorized. You had everything about this car completely memorized, right down to the- “Fuse 34.” San’s smug voice had returned, swiftly correcting you with another lick of his lips. Fuck, stop doing that. As you hovered over the box, fingers tracing every small plastic fuse, you realized he was absolutely correct. Everyone in the garage paused in their work, holding their breath at the stern correction. Nobody had ever copped an attitude like that with you before, and you loved it. “Right... fuse 34. You’re correct, my mistake.” Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, returning to their work but chattering under their breath about how it was so rare for you to make such a mistake. “They switched the fuses in this model only, I can see how it’s easy to get them confused. Especially if you haven’t done this for years.” A devilish grin spread across his face as he pulled the faulty fuse and tossed it into the garbage, replacing it with a new one. He pulled out his phone, tapping a few buttons before turning the screen to you. “But don’t worry, I’ll pretend you were right the first time if you give me your number.” You almost choked on your gum at just how smooth that actually was. Laughing, you typed your number into his phone and handed it back. “Smooth.” You commented, helping him unlatch the hood and push it shut. His hair was sticking to the sweat on his forehead, oil stains beginning to melt in the salty mixture. Suddenly, he slipped a finger under your chin, harshly pulling it up to meet his almost demonic gaze. “Why don’t you come by tonight? We’ll see how... enthusiastic... you are about a stick shift.”