#Braille class

[d34thxxbr34th]

another thing of vic and vegan bc i’ve been on a major ptv kick recently :]

[rocaillefox]

why does my professor make things due at 9am. help.

[jcmarchi]

Demystifying Screen Readers: Accessible Forms & Best Practices

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/demystifying-screen-readers-accessible-forms-best-practices/

Demystifying Screen Readers: Accessible Forms & Best Practices

This is the 3rd post in a small series we are doing on form accessibility. If you missed the 2nd post, check out Managing User Focus with :focus-visible. In this post we are going to look at using a screen reader when navigating a form, and also some best practices.

What is a Screen Reader?

You may have heard the term “screen reader” as you have been moving around the web. You might even be using a screen reader at this moment to run manual accessibility tests on the experiences you are building. A screen reader is a type of AT or assistive technology.

A screen reader converts digital text into synthesized speech or Braille output, commonly seen with a Braille reader.

In this example, I will be using Mac VO. Mac VO (VoiceOver) is built-in to all Mac devices; iOS, iPadOS, and macOS systems. Depending on the type of device you are running macOS on, opening VO could differ. The Macbook Pro that is running VO I am writing this on doesn’t have the touch bar, so I will be using the shortcut keys according to the hardware.

Spinning Up VO on macOS

If you are using an updated Macbook Pro, the keyboard on your machine will look something like the image below.

You will start by holding down the cmd key and then pressing the Touch ID three times quickly.

If you are on a MBP (MacBook Pro) with a TouchBar, you will use the shortcut cmd+fn+f5 to turn on VO. If you are using a traditional keyboard with your desktop or laptop, the keys should be the same or you will have to toggle VO on in the Accessibility settings.. Once VO is turned on, you will be greeted with this dialog along with a vocalized introduction to VO.

If you click the “Use VoiceOver” button you are well on your way to using VO to test your websites and apps. One thing to keep in mind is that VO is optimized for use with Safari. That being said, make sure when you are running your screen reader test that Safari is the browser you are using. That goes for the iPhone and iPad as well.

There are two main ways you can use VO from the start. The way I personally use it is by navigating to a website and using a combination of the tab, control, option, shift and arrow keys, I can navigate through the experience efficiently with these keys alone.

Another common way to navigate the experience is by using the VoiceOver Rotor. The Rotor is a feature designed to navigate directly to where you want to be in the experience. By using the Rotor, you eliminate having to traverse through the whole site, think of it as a “Choose Your Own Adventure”.

Modifier Keys

Modifier keys are the way you use the different features in VO. The default modifier key or VO is control + option but you can change it to caps lock or choose both options to use interchangeably.

Using the Rotor

In order to use the Rotor you have to use a combination of your modifier key(s) and the letter “U”. For me, my modifier key is caps lock. I press caps lock + U and the Rotor spins up for me. Once the Rotor comes up I can navigate to any part of the experience that I want using the left and right arrows.

Using the Rotor in VoiceOver

Navigating By Heading Level

Another neat way to navigate the experience is by heading level. If you use the combination of your modifier keys + cmd + H you can traverse the document structure based on heading levels. You can also move back up the document by pressing shift in the sequence like so, modifier keys + shift + cmd + H.

Using the Heading Level Shortcut with VoiceOver

History & Best Practices

Forms are one of the most powerful native elements we have in HTML. Whether you are searching for something on a page, submitting a form to purchase something or submit a survey. Forms are a cornerstone of the web, and were a catalyst that introduced interactivity to our experiences.

The history of the web form dates back to September 1995 when it was introduced in the HTML 2.0 spec. Some say the good ole days of the web, at least I say that. Stephanie Stimac wrote an awesome article on Smashing Magazine titled, “Standardizing Select And Beyond: The Past, Present And Future Of Native HTML Form Controls”.

The following are 5 best practices to follow when building an accessible form for the web.

Make sure that you are using a form element. Forms are accessible by default and should be used over div’s at all times.

<form> <!-- Form controls are nested here. --> </form>

Be sure to use the for and id attributes on label’s and input’s so that they are linked. This way, if you click/tap the label, focus will shift to the input and you can start typing.

<label for="name">Name:</label> <input type="text" id="name" name="name" required aria-required/>

If a field is required in order for the form to be complete, use the required attribute and the aria-required  attribute. These will restrict the form from being submitted. The aria-required attribute explicitly tells the assistive tech that the field is required.

<input type="text" id="name" name="name" required aria-required/>

Use the, :focus, :focus-within and :focus-visible CSS pseudo classes to manage and customize how a user receives focus.

form:focus-within background-color: #cfffcf; input:focus-within border: 10px solid #000000; input:focus-visible, select:focus-visible, textarea:focus-visible outline: 2px solid crimson; border-radius: 3px;

A button is used to invoke an action, like submitting a form. Use it! Don’t create buttons using div’s. A div by definition is a divider. It has no inherent accessibility properties.

Demo

Navigating a Web Form with VoiceOver

If you want to check out the code, navigate to the VoiceOver Demo GitHub repo. If you want to try out the demo above with your screen reader of choice, check out Navigating a Web Form with VoiceOver.

Screen Reader Software

Below is a list of various types of screen reader software you can use on your given operating system. If a Mac is not your machine of choice, there are options out there for Windows and Linux, as well as for Android devices.

NVDA

NVDA is a screen reader from NV Access. It is currently only supported on PC’s running Microsoft Windows 7 SP1 and later. For more access, check out the NVDA version 2024.1 download page on the NV Access website!

JAWS

“We need a better screen reader”

– Anonymous

If you understood the reference above, you are in good company. According to the JAWS website, this is what it is in a nutshell:

“JAWS, Job Access With Speech, is the world’s most popular screen reader, developed for computer users whose vision loss prevents them from seeing screen content or navigating with a mouse. JAWS provides speech and Braille output for the most popular computer applications on your PC. You will be able to navigate the Internet, write a document, read an email and create presentations from your office, remote desktop, or from home.”

JAWS website

Check out JAWS for yourself and if that solution fits your needs, definitely give it a shot!

Narrator

Narrator is a built-in screen reader solution that ships with WIndows 11. If you choose to use this as your screen reader of choice, the link below is for support documentation on its usage.

Complete guide to Narrator

Orca

Orca is a screen reader that can be used on different Linux distributions running GNOME.

“Orca is a free, open source, flexible, and extensible screen reader that provides access to the graphical desktop via speech and refreshable braille.

Orca works with applications and toolkits that support the Assistive Technology Service Provider Interface (AT-SPI), which is the primary assistive technology infrastructure for Linux and Solaris. Applications and toolkits supporting the AT-SPI include the GNOME Gtk+ toolkit, the Java platform’s Swing toolkit, LibreOffice, Gecko, and WebKitGtk. AT-SPI support for the KDE Qt toolkit is being pursued.”

Orca Website

TalkBack

Google TalkBack is the screen reader that is used on Android devices. For more information on turning it on and using it, check out this article on the Android Accessibility Support Site.

Browser Support

If you are looking for actual browser support for HTML elements and ARIA (Accessible Rich Internet Application) attributes, I suggest caniuse.com for HTML and Accessibility Support for ARIA to get the latest 4-1-1 on browser support. Remember, if the browser doesn’t support the tech, chances are the screen reader won’t either.

DigitalA11Y can help summarize browser and screen reader info with their article,  Screen Readers and Browsers! Which is the Best Combination for Accessibility Testing?

Links

https://support.apple.com/guide/voiceover/with-the-voiceover-rotor-mchlp2719/mac

https://www.w3.org/TR/wai-aria/

https://www.w3.org/WAI/standards-guidelines/aria/

https://support.google.com/accessibility/android/answer/6283677?hl=en

https://support.google.com/accessibility/android/answer/6283677?hl=en

[luthienmpl]

I didn't want to be that person who puts fandom tags on a post concerning real people with real issues but concerning my last reblog someone please explain dignity of risk to Day's mom.

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[overtail]

hi!! can i req a toph x fem!reader with “you came….”, “you called.” (is it also fine if r is a firebender?) thank youu!! :))

OMG THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST YOU DONT KNOW HOW EXCITED I AM???

I'd love to do that for you! hehe

Sorry if there are typos i was on a road trip 😔

...

"you came.." "you called."

Toph x Fem!Reader

⛰️🔥

Summary: After Toph's childhood best friend is banished from Gaoling along with her family, she finds out that all she needed to do was ask her to come back to her.

Trigger Warning: Implied Abuse, smooching

Reader Info: Female intended, Firebender, Lesbian,

Extra: Toph is aged up to 16! The story of Avatar takes longer in this AU

...

The letters were the only thing Toph had of her. She was the only person outside of her family that bothered to learn how to write braille, so it had more meaning that anyone else realized.

(Y/N) was the type of person you could never let go. She was kind, considerate, and still had the ability to be playful and hilarious. She never minded that Toph was blind, and supported her through all of the things she wanted to accomplish -- like being the blind bandit. She was like a fire, burning the passion in Toph's heart.

Toph met (Y/N) in school, before Toph was homeschooled. They were both seven, and the whole class was practicing their writing. Toph sat there quietly, listening to the snickers of her taunting classmates.

"We're going to practice our letters."

The teacher's voice was old, and Toph could sense that she didn't want to deal with the rowdy kids. A boy giggled beside her, before Toph heard the shuffling of his clothes, raising his hand.

"How is she supposed to write?"

The boy pointed to Toph, and the class laughed. Toph frowned, crossing her arms and scrunching her eyes closed. She felt her face become hot with embarrassment.

"Oh shut up Ying!"

A girl said aggressively, scoffing at the boy's remark.

Toph heard stomping growing louder and louder, until Ying was shoved roughly against the wooden floors of the classroom. Small gasps were heard from around, causing Toph to smile slightly.

"Ms (L/N)!"

The teacher yelled, running over to check up or Ying.

The boy held the back of his head, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. (Y/N) frowned, crossing her small arms and looking at the roof.

"Do not push people!"

(Y/N) groaned, crouching down so she was eye level with Toph.

She heard (Y/N)'s feet pivoting on the floor, causing her to turn her head in the direction of the noise.

"Don't worry -- i won't let them bully you."

Toph stopped writing her after her parents told her to, 'not write that evil girl'. It was only eight months after their family was sent away from Gaoling, but it felt like an eternity to Toph.

Toph didn't think she was evil.

The day was so unexpected, so sudden. Toph was the only person in the village that knew about (Y/N)"s family and their origin, who they were.

Two generations before (Y/N), her family arrived in Gaoling as refugees from the fire nation. Her grandfather, an ex-general, was sent away for treason. He took his people with him, ending up in Toph's village after a year of travel.

(Y/N) was born a firebender. Her family always encouraged her to hide the power, to act as a non-bender. It was easy, at first, since she had no one to teach her -- until Toph.

Even though Toph wasn't a firebender, she still told (Y/N) fighting tactics to be a bender from her classes. In secret, (Y/N) would practice. She would practice long and hard because she thought she might need it someday.

That was her demise.

"When's your next match?"

(Y/N) asked in the darkness of the cave, a small fire blooming from her palm. Toph thought for a moment, her fighting stand loosening. (Y/N) tossed the flame between her palm, the warm light reflecting on her face.

They were both ten years old. Toph was the youngest fighter in the secret earthbending matches, and (Y/N) attended all of them. She was the Blind Bandit's biggest fan.

"Tomorrow evening, i think."

(Y/N) hummed, leaning back on the rock she was sitting on. She winced as her left arm grazed against the rock, still raw from her injury.

"How does it feel?"

Toph asked, causing (Y/N) to look up.

"What?"

"The burn, how bad does it hurt?"

(Y/N) let out a small, 'oh', before looking down to her arm. It was bandaged up with a white cloth gauze, hiding the evidence of her parents anger.

She shrugged, flipping her arm over to inspect the bandages.

"I mean, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as bad as it did when mom got mad."

Toph nodded solemnly, huffing out an exasperated breath.

"You should really tell someone, y'know."

She was only greeted with a groan, knowing that meant no.

"I can't -- they'll wonder how she burnt me. It's kind of hard to lie when it's the shape of a handprint.."

(Y/N) laughed weakly, leaning back carefully so to not bump the scar. She sighed, closing her eyes and dropping the flame.

Toph dropped the rock she was levitating in front of her, hitting the ground with a 'thump!'. She turned her feet, walking over to where (Y/N) laid.

"You don't need to comfort me."

(Y/N) didn't need to open her eyes to see what Toph was doing. She would lay next to her, hold (Y/N) close. There was always something between them, something unidentifiable, something that normal friends didn't have.

They never really recognized this 'feeling', only letting it happen. Even if they did like eachother, their family would approve.

But they don't.

Right?

"Oh come on, you know you need it."

Toph crawled onto the flat boulder scrambling over to where (Y/N) was. She reached her hand over her torso, wrapping her hand around (Y/N)'s waist.

Even though she said she didn't want it, (Y/N) leaned in. Toph was significantly smaller than her, but she still placed her forehead on her collar.

"See. Toph is always right."

(Y/N) scoffed, roller her eyes under her eyelids. She sighed, thinking about what to say next.

Her face was horribly hot, and she was actually thankful that Toph was blind for once. Despite her 'luck', Toph could still hear her heart beating at a surprisingly fast speed.

"Hey, why's your hear-"

"Wanna hear about a new trick i learned?!"

(Y/N) quickly interrupted Toph, wanting to avoid the question. She removed herself from Toph's grasp, scooting off the boulder. She stood up, dusting off her uniform and clearing her throat.

Toph shifted, sitting fully. She felt a stab in het heart, confused as to why (Y/N) was so sudden to leave.

"Sure..?"

(Y/N) shifted awkwardly, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Okay so.."

As she described the move to Toph, rolling a ball of fire from the top of her hands across her arms and over her shoulders, making its way to her other hand, a rumbling feeling settled in Toph's stomach

She tried to listen to (Y/N), but every few seconds she swore she heard footsteps echo in the floor.

"Hey (Y/N)-"

"See, you gotta move your hair so you don't catch fire."

Toph was now sure that the sounds were footsteps. Her stomach sank.

"(Y/N) hold on-"

(Y/N) was too focused on trying to not catch fire to listen to Toph's worried plea. Toph stood up, walking quickly over to the firebender.

"Wait, stop for a moment-"

"Ms. Beifong?"

Oh spirits.

Toph turned to the voice, her face going pale. She grew sick at the voice, recognizing as one of her bodyguards.

(Y/N) let the fire fade out, also looking at the bodyguard. He looked at (Y/N), stepping back.

He looked back to Toph, beckoning her over to him.

"Ms. Beifong, step away from her."

Toph shook her head quickly, running a few steps forward to the bodyguard.

"Listen, shes-"

"She's a firebender!"

The bodyguard grasped Toph's wrists, shoving her behind him. She almost fell back out of the entrance of the cave, but caught herself.

She reached out, shooting up. a wall of rock from the floor in front of the bodyguard. He stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at Toph.

(Y/N) cowered, breaking a sweat. She was caught.

...

Toph sat on a log around the campfire, holding five pieces of paper in her thin hands.

She rubbed her thumb over the bumpy text, sighing softly.

A week ago, while the Gaang was stopping off in Ba Sing Se for a quick bite, Toph had an idea. It had been four years since she left her family behind, but this whole time, she never wrote a letter to (Y/N).

She thought it'd be stupid -- surely she wouldn't even remember who Toph was. There was a possibility that she also left her family, or, the worst outcome, she hated Toph for never speaking to her.

Toph had injured her ankle after hopping off Appa earlier that day, and Katara said that she should stay at camp instead of going out to find food with the rest of her friends. She was, of course, very angry by this, but it was four vs. one.

So, she listened to the crackling of the fire, petting a sleeping Momo softly and reading the letters. It was her guilty pleasure.

As she read the last letter she ever received from (Y/N), she heard a stick break in the woods. Both her and Momo looked up, ears perking at the noise.

Toph jumped up, limping over to where Aang left his staff. Momo chirped behind her hopping over to her hurt ankle and holding onto it.

"Momo, shut up."

She hissed, grabbing the wooden staff. Toph turned her head to hear all of her surroundings, trying to find where the noise came from.

Ruffling of leaves to her left.

She turned and limped towards the campfire, going around it and facing a cluster of trees.

"I can hear you! Give up."

She yelled, getting into a fighting stance. She hissed, her hurt ankle not used to the pressure.

The crunching of leaves turned into soft footsteps, growing louder and louder until Toph swung the staff in front of her.

Then it came to a sudden stop.

A hand had caught it in its motion, stopping before Toph could hit the perpetrator. She let out a few curses, taking a step back.

She reached her hand out, lifting a few rocks to the side of the figure. Before she could launch the rocks at them, a cold palm graced their cheek.

She stopped in her tracks, startled by the feeling.

"What the-"

"Toph."

She swatted the hand from her face, surprised at the fact they knew her name.

"Who are you?"

"Toph."

And then she realized.

She opened her eyes wide, a small gasp choking out of her throat. The voice was deeper than she remembered, more mature and aged. Toph tilted her head, trying to process what was really going on.

Toph reached up, touching the tips of her fingers to their cheekbone. She slid it down her cheek, touching her jawline and holding the knob of her chin. Her fingers graced her soft lips, touching the tip of her nose and sliding up to run her fingers though the taller's hair.

She felt a sob in her throat, realizing who it was. Everything felt so familiar all of a sudden, like she was a little kid playing in the sun again.

"(Y/N)."

It was one word, just a simple utter of a name, but it held so much meaning to both of them. Toph hadn't said that name since she was eleven, not even bothering to speak of her to anyone.

She launched forward, bringing (Y/N) in for a tight hug. She was much taller now, towering over Toph's small figure. Her hair was longer, and she had the body of a woman -- not like the ten year old Toph remembered.

"Y-You got my letter?"

Toph felt so weird talking so weakly like this, but life felt so simple with (Y/N) there.

"Yeah, I did."

Toph could sense the smile through her words, only hugging (Y/N) tighter. She hugged back, holding the back of Toph's head with her hand. Her other landed on Toph's waist, bringing the shorter against her.

When sending the letter, she asked (Y/N) to come to Ba Sing Se. Toph never believed that she would actually come, let alone find her way miles out from the kingdom to find her.

"You came.."

(Y/N) pushed Toph back gently, looking down at the girl below. She smiled kindly, leaning down.

"You called."

Before Toph could think, (Y/N)'s lips grazed hers, a soft kiss planted on her lips. She pulled back too quickly, and Toph already missed the contact. She grabbed (Y/N)'s face, bringing her back down and kissing her again.

...

BONUS!!

"Who the hell is that?"

Sokka said, looking to Toph and (Y/N) as they laid cuddled up in her tent. The morning sun peeked behind Sokka and Katara as they looked curiously.

"I have.. no idea."

[anglophile-alfred]

I love the idea of Alfred knowing every language out there because of how many different types of people live in America—and this is specifically a skill Alfred has, not every nation.

He could also use this skill for chaos, like speaking French whenever he wants to piss off England (who does know French, but you will never get him to speak it. Over his dead body).

Canada would probably forget America knows French and say an insult to him in the language under his breath, just to facepalm when Alfred easily replies with a comeback in not only French but specifically Quebec French.

America speaks only English around Ivan as a power move. He also knows that China is more receptive to him when he speaks Chinese. America somehow knowing every Chinese dialect and the intricacies of the language is the only thing China will admit as impressive about Alfred.

At world meetings when all of the languages are flying as people yell and argue, America gets overwhelmed and has to leave the room to cool off. But no one ever realizes that's why he does that.

And of course, he smiles so much when he talks to his people in their native languages and sees them brighten at being understood in their native tongue. I can also see him giving free classes on ASL and braille to help more people be able to speak with those who are deaf and blind. Probably the only languages he's still working on learning are the different forms of sign language in each country. He knows ASL but not BSL, for instance.

Alfred may be oblivious a lot of the time and also have a childish innocence to him in some ways that can affect his decision-making, but he's still smart under all of that. That's also why you see him suggesting superheroes as a solution to climate change while having archeology and astronomy as hobbies.

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(Chappy #4)

The incompetence he bore witness to today rivaled that of which you’d see at an underfunded public school. This is a private school funded to the highest caliber! Damian hadn’t missed the dramatic increase in budget around the time Father enrolled him in the school. He’d been there when the press hounded him about it! The point was, that he knew for a fact that the school had the resources to accommodate a single transfer student!

With how poorly Daniel had been equipped to traverse the halls, one could only question if it were intentional. There was sure to be the inevitable mix-up with a student actually showing up for the transfer program. Usually, all they got was an announcement over the PA that all the potential transfers had not so politely declined the invitation. No rational parent would send their child to Gotham alone unless they were truly desperate, ignorant, or neglectful. 

Nothing could ever excuse what he’d seen today. You don’t hand a half-blind student a schedule with braille so radically different from the actual print by accident. It was a bat burger menu for gods sake! Someone had to have noticed when they handed it to him. In lieu of a recent spike of impairments involving vision and or hearing, every schedule had braille on it! Both sign language and braille had become their own optional after-school courses that upon completion, awarded a more than generous amount of extra credit. One didn’t even have to complete the course, all you had to do was pass multiple fluency tests, and then you were finished.

Most teachers knew either Braille or some form of sign language, and they all damn well would’ve known that the map was outdated! Fifty years outdated, you’d have to be a moron to hand that out by mistake. Though with what he was seeing now, he’s not quite sure the facility wasn’t primarily composed of scrambling idiots.

Mr. Rivers, ever the annoyance, had taken to only approaching Daniel from his blind side. It became more and more infuriating as class ticked by. The teacher shoved his body between the two of them, violating any semblance of personal space for the sole purpose of inconveniencing Daniel. Every time Mr. Rivers encroached on their personal space, Damian sharpened his pencil. Every time he made the other boy flinch, the idea of launching the pencil like one of his throwing knives became more and more appealing. No harm would’ve come to the teacher, the sight of a wooden pencil embedding itself in the wall mere inches away from his left eye would be more than enough to frighten the man. 

He’d face detention or possibly even suspension, but he’d take the punishment with pride. A smirk played on his lips as he tapped his pencil against his desk.

His smirk soon shifted into a scowl as yet another work packet was piled onto his desk. It was irritating, everything about this class was irritating. Daniel let out a dramatic groan beside him, the other boy slumping back in his chair. Worksheets were piled high on the boy's desk, some completed while most remained unfinished.

A ruler snapped down onto Daniel’s desk, a loud thwack! Startling the boy into sitting up straight.

“I guess I deserved that one,” Daniel shrugged.

“No you didn’t,” Damian replied flatly, but Daniel just shrugged it off. Most of the school facility were what most Gothamites would consider normal. Mr. River just had a generally detestable personality.

The man hated teenagers, often spewing complaints of their “rowdy behavior” and “lack of dedication,”. Damian might’ve agreed with those statements if it weren’t for the blatant lies in every word the man said. His classmates were…noisy and rather unpleasant for him to mingle with, but they were far from the “Lazy entitled brats” Mr. Rivers had painted them as. It’d be hypocritical for him of all people to judge the teacher based on being “mean” but the two of them couldn’t be farther apart.

 Damian was a hostile presence in the classroom, but he didn’t go out of his way to target and harass people for things they couldn’t control. People could choose to stay out of his personal space, and they could choose to not say dumb shit to his face. A mental or physical condition wasn’t something they could change, nor were they things that verbal and physical abuse would fix. This should've been common sense to anyone with two brain cells to strike together, but apparently, Darwinism had failed once again.

Mr. Rivers targeted Daniel based on his visual impairment. Every question was targeted at Daniel regardless if his had been raised or not. The man punctuated each sentence with a loud headache-inducing smack to his desk. He always struck on the boy’s blindside, never where he could see the ruler come down. Aside from the occasional flinch, Daniel took the abhorrent behavior in stride.

Concerning… It was one word he could use to describe Daniel's indifference. Completely unbothered, like this was just a typical Monday in class for him. Maybe his previous statement rang true, and he soulfully had experienced worse. That in itself was a concerning statement but made sense considering the context to that worse was engraved on his face. Everything the teacher did just seemed to roll off the other boy’s shoulders like water off a swan's back. A muttered comment of “his school counselor being worse than this teacher ever could be,” only serving to exasperate his concerns.

It was distracting… Every time Daniel gave him a reassuring smile, his heart pounded like hummingbird wings. Blood rushed to his cheeks, warming them like he’d just sat in front of a fireplace. As big of a deal as his siblings made of his apparent social ineptitude, Damian wasn’t an idiot.

How was he supposed to read people if he didn’t understand the emotions that drove their behavior? He’s a vigilante! He couldn’t be walking around uninformed about the basic spectrum of human emotion!

This was obviously what people would call a crush.

Grayson had been the one to attempt explaining crushes and relationships to him. It was a painfully awkward conversation to sit through. His brother spoke of love like a romcom, both cheesy and highly unrealistic. It was by sheer dumb luck Grayson had entered any form of relationship before, and a miracle any of them had lasted more than a week. Anyone with a dash of common sense could tell Grayson’s advice wasn’t a viable source of information. The number of times he’d been pulled aside by someone within earshot of conversation was enough for him to conclude his brother's brain was diluted by hallmark specials and fairytales.

Regardless of his elder brother's delusion, the conversation itself had been unnecessary. Romantic feelings had been explained to him from a very young age. From learning how these emotions could affect one's behavior to understanding not all people felt those feelings, and that was normal too. It was crucial for detective work to recognize the entire range of human emotions. 

Damian didn’t believe in love at first sight. He believed one could feel physical attraction for a person minutes or merely seconds after meeting, but love? How could you love someone you’ve only spent a minute with. Rushing in with that mindset was how you ended up courting someone you’d despise in the end. Outward appearances could tell you plenty about a person, but it wasn’t often you could read out someone’s entire character by reading their shirt. It could happen, but this wasn’t one of those cases.

He hadn’t even had a proper conversation with his seatmate yet. Rushing in at the first sign of attraction was an idiotic way to hurt himself emotionally. He’d need to tread through this carefully, learn more about Daniel, and proceed accordingly with the information he received. 

Glancing up at the clock, he scowled. Students discreetly packed their bags, fidgeting in their seats as they waited for the bell. Nobody liked being in Mr. Rivers's class. He was the type of teacher to pile a month's worth of homework onto any student unfortunate enough to have gotten their work done in a timely matter. Needless to say, Damian found himself with a thick stack of worksheets on his desk every class. Maybe if he were a little less spiteful, he would slack and draw out the original worksheet like everyone else did, but that would imply Mr. Rivers had gotten under his skin. 

Daniel tapped a thick stack of papers on his desk. His name scrawled shakily in graphite on each sheet. Much to his surprise, Daniel had completed every single worksheet their teacher had thrown at him. How he’d managed to do so in such a short amount of time was a mystery, but Damian was delighted nonetheless. 

The boy grinned, pride and a dash of spite written clear on his face. Damian had watched, enraptured at the subtle wilting of Mr.River’s face with every sheet he completed. The teacher had been far too dull to print out random worksheets for Daniel like he had with Damian. No, every single one of those pages was a part of the required curriculum assigned to transfer students. Work required to be graded and submitted no more than a week after submission. 

“Impressive,” Damian commented.

Daniel beamed, foxlike and giddy as he neatened the pile of paper. 

“If all that doesn’t go in the grade book, I’m starting a riot,” Daniel muttered. Damian didn’t doubt him. Tomorrow, Daniel would likely be piled with the same worksheets Damian was stuck with, papers that weren’t graded outside the original worksheet. 

“I’ll join you,” Planning a riot together would be the perfect activity for him to get to know Daniel more. One's true self tended to be clearer in times of war. 

“Hell yeah! Nothing like a less than peaceful protest to bring people together,” Daniel laughed, the bell rang and Daniel’s expression shifted to one of dread.

“I can walk you to your next class if you’d like,” He offered.

"That would be helpful,” A nervous but exasperated smile had wormed it’s way onto Daniel’s face, the other boy subconsciously running a hand through locks of black hair. "I don't think my map would've been all that helpful," He laughed.

Damian inspected their schedules. They shared lunch and a fourth-hour history class, but that was it. Daniel had earth science third hour while he had an art class. A disappointment, but an expected one. 

“Since you don’t have a valid map, I’ll come to pick you up around lunchtime,” He proclaimed as they rounded the corner.

“Sounds good,” With that they parted ways, Daniel giving him a quick wave paired with a smile that made his heart thrum before he stepped into the classroom.

With a sigh, Damian headed down to the first floor. Vibrant paintings and impossibly detailed pencil drawings lined the halls surrounding the art rooms. A giant mural around twelve feet across was the art students' prized project. Massive mountains and towering trees for everyone to see. An outdoor landscape painted with warm colors shifted to the cold colors of city skyscrapers and roads dimly illuminated by street lights. The mural itself took up almost the entire hallway. Not an inch of the remaining space remained bare. Overall, the first floor had more color than all the other floors combined.

Stepping into class, the smell of paint filled his nostrils. Watercolor stained the wooden tables, cracking paint and charcoal smears scattered across the workspace. Conversations from the previous classes were scrawled onto tables. A collaborative drawing between several students having been scribbled over with a conglomerate of charcoal and colored pencils.

The seats were the only part of the table that was mostly bare. Only a few pencil scribbles and scratches. Too many students' uniforms had been stained with dusty patches of charcoal and paint before drawing on the chairs was prohibited, and tarps were placed over them. 

Art was the one class students were mostly left to their own devices. Given full access to the entire range of supplies, with a vague instruction of showing off their progress at the end of class. A giant bookshelf was set up next to a metal wire shelf carrying baskets of various types of paper. The bookshelf was filled to the brim with any and all books art-related. From beginner to expert, sculpting to painting, realism to cartoonism, a book was there to teach you about it. It was against the rules to draw inside any of the books, but post-it notes were stuck to every page of every book. 

Students filtered in like blood slowly oozing from a paper cut. Quiet chatter filled the room, their teacher sitting calmly at his desk. Damian sat with his new sketchbook, staring daggers at the plethora of empty pages. Sounds of cabinets opening and paintbrushes clinking against glass mugs were his background noise. Pencils scratched against paper, soft searching lines filling a blank page, slowly shaping Daniels's features.

From his sharpened canines to the dimples on his cheeks. To the messy way he swept his hair to the side to the light freckles dusted across his face. Drawing Daniel’s scarring proved to be quite difficult. Intricate branches of scar tissue never seemed to look right when he had them on paper, and it frustrated him to no end. When he finally got it right, he could’ve collapsed right there. It was far from the perfection he was aiming for, but he’d have a reference photo by the end of the day to solve that plight. 

This drawing would be more than enough if Daniel turned out to be an… unpleasant individual.

[periprose]

heard you were wanting some Logan requests. If you want more let me know:)

So I’m thinking this takes places after Deadpool 3, reader, Wade, and Logan are roommates. Reader is like a little sister to Wade, while her and Logan have been seeing each other. But anyway, reader returns home from her college classes for the day. Wade and Logan notice that she seems kind of off, but give her some space. Later in the evening Logan goes to let her know that dinner is ready, but he can hear her crying. So he quietly lets himself in, and he comforts her. He asks her what’s wrong and she tells him that she’s really struggling with her classes, but also she and one of her best friends had a conflict and are no longer friends. Maybe she tells him how she’s always really struggled with having friends, and she feels like she’s always the problem, but the conflicts have always been caused by her past friends (if that makes sense). But he just comforts her, and it’s just cute and fluffy. (I’ve had a lot of problems with past friends of mine, and this would have been very comforting back in may:)) feel free to change of add anything. Thank you🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi!! I’m so sorry you’ve gone through this, I’ve been there and it sucks :( hopefully you make new awesome friends soon, and I hope you enjoy this!! I made Reader genuinely Wade's little sister if that's okay. :)

Plenty of Time

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Hurt with comfort, angst, fluff, some sexual implications but nothing crazy

You grit your teeth as you put your key into the apartment door, feeling the weight of all your books in your backpack drag your shoulders down.

“Wade! I’m home!” You call out to a seemingly empty apartment, as you open the door. “...Hello?”

“Don’t look at me.” Blind Al shrugs as she reads a book, tracing her fingers over the Braille, from over on the couch. “Those two motherfuckers have never bothered to keep me up to date, even though location sharing is a thing now.”

You sigh to yourself. “Thanks, Al. I’ll be in my room.”

You’re not in the mood to track down Wade or Logan, as much as you love them both– the commute back home had been rather exhausting today.

Another day of no phone notifications from your supposed friend, or ex-friend now if you’re being honest, lower grades on assignments than you were expecting, and a moody bus ride back with the latest depressing songs as your personal soundtrack of choice, that perfectly described your continuing spiral– it was enough to make you want to head back to your room and just sit with yourself in solitude.

You’re just beginning to frown when there’s a thump in the next room over.

“Hey, sunshine goodness sister of mine, we’re in the kitchen!” You hear Wade call out. “You know, making dinner for our favourite scholar. Isn’t that right, Logan?”

“Sure. I mean, I’m not doing shit, because you seem to think you know what you’re doing, and I don’t want to be apart of your mess.” Logan says in his typical, gruff tone, and you resist the urge to smile. 

He peeks his head out through the door of the kitchen. “Hey, kid. Wilson’s making some sort of surprise-casserole– don’t ask. You okay?”

“Um… yeah. I just need to get some studying done, so I’ll talk to you later, Logan.” You ignore the way his eyebrows raise– he’s clearly noticed that you’re blowing him off, but you don’t care enough to get into that right now.

“Okay.” Logan inhales, and heads back into the kitchen, wondering what the hell went wrong this time, or if it had anything to do with him.

“Ouch, big guy. Blown off that easily? Sounds like sis is finally picking up on the fact that she’s too good for you.” Wade says cheerfully, as he haphazardly tosses dirty dishes into the sink. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan rolls his eyes, and Wade ignores him– you did sound pretty down in the dumps based on your tone of voice, and he’s pretty sure it has nothing to do with him or Logan. Probably just a shit day at college.

Maybe his casserole would cheer you up.

/

After another gruelling hour of Wade making last minute side-dishes, and asking Logan to taste-test things, as Logan swears that he’d rather be out at the bar, if not for you staying at home; it’s finally ready.

You can tell. You can smell whatever Wade has managed to conjure up with your meagre budget, but you’re just not hungry, and you’re not willing to face them or tell them what’s gone wrong.

What even has gone wrong? Nothing super obvious, you know, but just the lack of anything momentous in your life… it feels embarrassing, it feels odd to be at this age and have nothing to show for it.

Like friends matter that much, you try to think to yourself. But it still hurts, knowing that when you walk through campus, through the city, you’re alone. And everyone else seems to be so good at having friends, big groups of people basking in each others’ presences, extroversion on full display. Someone you could never be.

You tried your hardest with your friend, didn’t you? But maybe there’s something wrong with you, maybe there’s something about you that drives people away. A broken friendship feels like you aren’t good enough.

Yes, you have your big brother Wade, you have Logan, and to an extent, Vanessa, Al, Laura, Colossus, Eloise and Yukio, but for all intents and purposes, you know these are people that have to care about you, and you think, even if it’s shallow to think this– they wouldn’t care about you otherwise.

Lately, you’re wondering what your value even is.

Tears start rolling down your face, and you slump down onto your bed, giving in to quiet sobs. 

/

Logan’s been sent to tell you dinner is ready, but he’s waiting in front of your bedroom door. 

He’s been in there plenty of times, and he’s usually not one to care that much about privacy– but he hears stifled, little sniffles, and he knows you’re crying.

Being a typical hothead– Logan can tell he’s getting mad, because he wants to know who or what could’ve caused you to be so upset. But he knows this isn’t going to help you, and right now you need him for comfort, not as a big, angry oaf.

He opens the door quietly, and shuffles over to your bed, where you’re crying, your body wrapped around a pillow.

He sits next to you, and touches your shoulder.

You turn to look at him, eyes watery, face puffy. “Logan… sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“What the hell are you already apologizing for?” Logan scoffs, brushing away your apology and grabbing your hand, trying to steady you. “You’re allowed to cry in your own room. What happened?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m not doing great in my classes. My grades are a lot lower than I thought they’d be.” You answer glumly, and Logan’s mouth twists in a way that tells you he’s trying not to laugh. “What?”

“It’s still pretty early in the semester, kid. Give yourself at least until midterms before you decide that you’ve failed.” Logan admonishes you, but you sit up, leaning in closer to him.

“No, Logan. It’s a bad start.” You shake your head. “I just… I don’t know if I can improve them by midterms.”

“Of course you can. You’re the smarter Wilson, you don’t even know how surprised I was when I found out you were Wade’s sister.” Logan reaches for your cheek, wiping away the tears under your eye, and you lean into his touch, feeling what you’ve missed. Comfort.

“Thanks.” There’s a beat of silence, and Logan waits for you to smile, to tell him that it’s all okay now and yes, you would enjoy kisses to cheer you up, but he gets nothing of the sort. 

You still look troubled as you pull away from his embrace.

“Is that really all?” Logan asks, and you shake your head.

“It’s something stupid, I swear.” You try, wanting to change the subject. The last thing you want for Logan is for him to find out his lover is some kind of lame, no-friend outcast.

“Nah, let me hear it, kid.” Logan holds both of your hands in his, so you don’t move. “I’ll make it better. Want me to beat someone up?”

“Not exactly, but that does make me feel better– if not a little worried that you’re so prone to fighting.” You joke, and he smiles a little, which makes you feel better. “I just… I’m really struggling with making friends.”

“And you think I’d judge you for that?” Logan snorts. “You’re talking to the original loner here.”

“Well, no, but you always take it in stride, Logan. I don’t know– you seem pretty cool to me.” You say, and he shakes his head.

“There you go again with overrating me and underrating yourself. Thanks, but I think you forget how much of that is self-perception.” Logan glances at you. “I’m not that cool. A lot of that is me pretending not to give a fuck about anything.”

“Ah, so you do care?” You tease him, and Logan scowls.

“Obviously. Why else would I be holding your hands, hearing you out right now? I care a lot.” Logan shrugs. “Of course, like with all things in life, people can take advantage of that– people might not care as much as you and I do.”

“I guess so. I just wanted to feel like I could do it.” You frown. “Like I could really be a social butterfly, I guess… you know my friend? A couple weeks ago, we had an argument, and she completely ignores me now. It’s like I never even mattered to her, and it’s not even the first time that’s happened to me. And then I just wonder, what if it’s not in the cards for me to have friends? What if I’m the problem and I just struggle with it forever?”

“Ah, kid. That’s not true, lots of really terrible people have friends.” Logan shakes his head. “Come on. You are not the problem. Friendships come and go, take it from me. You know I’ve lived a long, long time– and I’ve witnessed people change and grow apart more than I’ve seen things last. It’s not a personal thing, it’s just life.”

“Really.” You don’t sound too convinced.

“Yes, really. I’ve got a great example: Charles and Erik.” Logan squeezes your hands as you listen. “They were inseparable for a period. And without getting too deeply into it, both of them betrayed each other in the most terrible way. I could lie and say they never got over it, but that’s not true. Both Charles and Erik made their own choices, and they grew and went their separate ways, and they made new friends. In the end, you end up with the people you’re meant to be with in that moment of time.”

“And you’re saying that I’ll do that, too?” You stare into Logan’s eyes, trying to see if this is some sort of story that’s meant to placate you, or if he really means it.

“Yeah, of course you will.” Logan says it immediately, not even waiting a second to reassure you.

You believe him. “I suppose it makes sense. I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who didn’t like me, either.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Logan leans back on your bed, against one of your pillows. 

“Well, it was a well-thought out answer. Have you just had that locked and loaded?” You lean back against him, and he lightly exhales.

“You forget my age, kid. I’ve lived through it many, many times.” 

“Well, you’re not gonna leave me behind, are you?” You ask, jokingly at first, but then you feel a sudden insecurity rise in your chest.

Logan gives you a hard stare. “No. We’ve got plenty of time left, and you should really be wondering if you’re going to be leaving this old man behind soon.” 

“I won’t insult your intelligence by saying never, but… I haven’t outgrown you.” There’s a yet left unsaid here, but you don’t think it’s true, you think you’ll stay with Logan for as long as he’ll have you.

“You could do better.” He states, and you laugh and shake your head. 

“Trust me, I wouldn’t say better. Different, sure.” You turn back to face him, and he stares up at you with a soft glance, from where he leans on your bed, and you decide to prove to him that he is the best.

You lean in and kiss him softly, and Logan exhales softly as you do, and it gets a little more needy, as you push against him on your bed, and Logan’s hands find their way around your waist.

There’s a knock against the doorframe. 

Wade grimaces at what he sees, as you and Logan pull away from each other.

“Hey, lovesick idiots. While you’ve been having sappy pep-talks and lukewarm foreplay, some of us have been waiting for you to eat dinner.” He shudders. “And if you’re about to initiate the unspeakable, at least close the door! And use protection, we don’t need a Wilson-Howlett kid with both of your self-esteem issues.”

“Wade– please, too far.” You tell off your older brother, but he raises his hands like he said what he needed to say. “C’mon, I had to listen to you and Vanessa going at it for years– and you wouldn’t stop even when I had trouble sleeping.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow at you.

“The headboard would bang against our very thin walls.” You mutter, and Logan laughs. 

“I’m very sex positive, I swear.” Wade starts, and you point a finger at him.

“That doesn’t sound true considering you’re enough of a prude to freak out at some kissing–”

“Well, in my defense, who wants to see their best friend and younger sister get it on? I always shut my door! Shut yours!”

“That never drowned out the sounds, Wade. You’re lucky this apartment has way thicker walls.”

“Both of you, shut it.” Logan stops the two of you. “I promise next time, we’ll shut the door and put a sock on the doorknob and everything. Now, let’s go eat.”

The minor kerfuffle is easily solved by Logan, and as you walk with him to the kitchen, hand in hand, you feel glad to have him on your side.

[voidpacifist]

I have a new brainworm about steve harrington that I need (NEED!!) to share

imagine this for me: it's 1983. nothing eventful happens, at least in the supernatural sense. steve and nancy still date, he still drops his terrible friends when he realizes they're not gonna support him if it doesn't fit their agenda, he still accidentally becomes close to a bunch of seventh graders when nance asks him if he can babysit--

(not that he'd ever say no to her, but it's not what he envisioned the summer of '84 to be like, okay?)

--and overall, things are relatively normal for him. his parents continue to be absent, but they still get excited for him when they learn he has a girlfriend or won a new award at the end of the school year for something sporty or what have you. they're not bad people, they just don't know how to be good parents. and they're always, always away.

but the thing about 1983, is that his final interaction with tommy before he "broke up" their friendship by dating someone kind and sweet and "perfect" like nancy, was him getting absolutely wailed on. enough that he went to the hospital with a severe concussion and some damage to his optic nerve. the doctors told him he already has something going on with his vision to begin with, probably a genetic disease passed down from one of his folks, that increase his chances of going blind earlier in life. meaning, if push came to shove, his vision could go entirely if he got into any more scruples with ex-friends or people who just generally disliked him.

and then lucas sinclair asks him for dating advice, because he likes max mayfield, the new girl in his class, and ultimately it lands steve being the chauffeur for their first date just days after halloween in 1984. by now, he and nancy have broken up — they weren't emotionally available in the ways they needed to be with one another, and steve knows his dream of the future is different from her own. this time, there's no speech about bullshit or faking it. they simply both know that their expiration is upon them and call it quits.

(it still hurts, but he told lucas to shoot his shot, because if there's anything he's learned by dating nancy wheeler, it's that projecting his heartbreak and hurt onto others is a gateway to toxicity in the water; and by god he is not sabotaging this kids emotional maturity, okay? okay)

so he takes the kids to bennys burgers, because lucas insists it's "cool enough" for this girl, and he doesn't want to overdo it by going somewhere too fancy. but when steve returns to pick them up, there's a hiccup in the plan.

billy, maxs step-brother and steve's most recent bother at school, is there, gearing up to try and scare lucas off, or do something worse. steve, anointed babysitter and generally protective friend, steps in without hesitation. the fight that results makes the local news. steve lands in the hospital again.

his vision doesn't go completely, but it goes enough. enough that he can't drive, enough that he'll have to find large print books or simply relearn to read altogether in braille. enough that he's advised to get a cane or a guide dog. enough that, when all is said and done, his old life has been completely upended.

jonathan--

(the same jonathan who has now swept nancy off her feet the way steve used to)

--surprisingly, is the one who ends up getting close to steve after this. he tells steve about what it was like when will was found after being missing for a week, about how he knows it isn't the same, but that he relates to the feeling of oh god, everythings different and nothing I used to have is coming back. he doesn't divulge on the details, but steve knows he's serious about understanding the feeling.

even more surprising is nancy, who commands him every day that god dammit steve, your life is not coming back unless you take it back yourself and then reassures him in the same breath that he's not weak for needing help doing so.

and then the kids join in too. and steve harrington isnt a king anymore of anything, but he's the king of his own life, he's the king of himself. he starts going back to school even when he feels embarrassed to be there, like he's an imposter or ill equipped. he starts going to public places just to meet poorly concealed whispers with something friendly and witty in return. he starts taking his power back in a way that never needs to hurt anyone, that never needs to hurt himself.

he also discovers he loves bright colors — neons and pinks and reds especially. he takes a trip with nancy and barb one day to indy on some sort of girls trip (they've long since made up since the first house party, and barb latches onto steve as a best friend shockingly fast in the wake of his and tommy's split), and it's there that he meets someone punk for the first time. he develops a fixation on the colored hair, the leather and spikes and denim with safety pins in it. he badgers the girls about teaching him how to wear eyeliner.

it's his gateway into punk style, which is then a further path into the subculture itself, into colored laces and battle vests and the politics and social aspects. steve takes to it like a fish to water.

the name steve harrington used to mean something entirely different. even though he calls his parents every day since the incident, even though they've been back to see him multiple times, even though they've tried to be present in their strange, semi-absent way, they still haven't seen him since his transformation from local jock to local punk.

needless to say, he spends a lot more time educating them about his "waywardness" and a lot less time actually excitedly telling them about the next color of his hair. but the harringtons aren't unaware — they can see how while this may be a creative way for steve to begin expressing and discovering himself, it's also an armor. no one really wants to fuck with someone who will trip you with his cane if you're being an asshole, someone who wears a lot of spikes and other sharp objects on their body for fun.

so they let it be. and they stay a little longer, this time.

this shift doesn't go unnoticed by the local gossips, but it also doesn't go unnoticed by the "freaks and geeks" at school. he develops, quite by accident, a reputation that rivals that of the king of freaks at hawkins. eddie munson wears the title proudly, clings to it with every antic and every quip that feeds into the rumors about him. but he respects what it took for steve to get here.

so he invites him along to a hellfire session. which turns into two. which turns into steve becoming a party member, which turns into him excitedly telling the kids he babysits that he gets it now, that yes, they can absolutely host their games at his house as long as they have rides back home.

but as he and eddie get closer as friends, eddie notices that as well as steve has done accepting himself as he is, he still misses the things he used to do without thinking much about needing sight to do it. contact sports and movies and other very visually inclined things. and listen, eddie's happy that steve has renounced the toxic social scene of jockdom, he really is, but he also recognizes a guy who misses pieces of his old life.

(he finds himself missing his old life, the life before wayne, all the time, just for the parts that didn't hurt him)

so eddie, much to steves surprise, suggests he try joining the swim team for the final quarter of his senior year. and hey, fuck it, what can it hurt? he's already a nerd now as well as a punk as well as disabled — he can go for one more oddball, not-quite-jock occupation. the coach has several stipulations, all of which steve takes in stride.

he's granted a tryout. he doesn't make it on.

eddie, in his wildest nightmares, doesn't touch sports. he's already athletic in other regards, naturally good at sprinting and lifting heavy things from taking equipment to and from band practice. he doesn't think he actually needs sports, but he's willing to go with steve to lake jordan to keep practicing. he's seen how stubborn harrington is, and he's not about to stop it.

eventually, they do these laps across the lake and back (it's a pretty small lake) just to get high once they're done. and fuck, if steve can swim the length of the lake, he can get a job at the new starcourt mall. and he does. he's there at scoops ahoy the bare minimum of hours they're required to give him to technically say he's employed, but at least he has work. his friends visit him there after their own jobs are done for the day, and eddie consistently shows up just to bug him.

robin, his coworker, is impressed and startled by this version of steve. she'd say she doesn't trust it, but there's nothing to trust really, about the shock of bright green hair or the way his eyes aren't actually that focused looking, or about the way he casually tells stories about getting high and swimming the length of lake jordan. not to mention, the chemistry he can't physically or metaphorically see between him and eddie is laughable to her, and entirely too obvious.

she ends up with one bad trip from the wrong dealer, and steve stays with her through the comedown, and she realizes she would probably die for him, because he sits there and listens to her buzzed ramble about tammy thompson and his bagel crumbs and other dumb shit from when he was still in high school. he's the first person she's ever come out to, and she's the first person he's ever thought could be a soulmate, the kind he'd never give his body but would marry in a heartbeat if she asked him.

he tells her about billy. she tells him about her mother. they tell each other a lot of secrets, more than he's ever told jonathan and nancy, or barb, or even eddie.

and then their workplace gets set on fire from a gas leak after hours. they pack up and go to family video, because they're a package deal. it's barb being on the crew that convinces keith to let steve take the job, and he has a new shtick joking about being a blind guy who likes movies.

then eddie probably takes him to one or two or maybe five. then they maybe make out after one of their swims. then steve starts going to eddies shows at the hideout, starts going with him damn near everywhere, and this was the kind of companionship he needed from the get go but didn't have. the kind where they support each other's interests without changing themselves for it, the kind where there is love born from fierce and unwavering friendship, the kind where loyalty is unquestionable but agreeing all the time is optional. and god.

steve harrington has been blind for a year. and he wears metal in his face and color in his hair. and he and his friends gather for movies just for the enjoyment of it. and he swims the lakes of hawkins with his boyfriend. and he plays dungeons and dragons with the kids who haven't let go of him just yet. and his parents aren't who he needs them to be yet, but they're trying. everyones trying. and eveyrone is enough.

and he's enough, at the end of the day.

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - seeing you

A/N: thanks to @nyxiethesimp for the help and fuelling my Aizawa obsession 😌💜

Sitting in the windowsill, you ran your fingers along the braille of the book you were reading, a little smile on your face.

The apartment was quiet, and you were enjoying some much needed relaxation in the warm glow of the evening sun through the window.

That’s how Aizawa found you, most evenings you would be sat up there reading and he never really understood why you enjoyed sitting there so much, but he made it a comfortable spot if you with cushions and blankets, and the couch was just below.

Walking over, he sat down the the couch and you turned your eyes towards him, reaching out with your hand you gently placed it on his head, running your fingers through your hair.

“How was it?” You asked.

“Exhausting.” He sighed.

“You’re not staying in the dorms tonight?”

You felt him shake his head, and he tilted it back so he was able to look at you.

Taking your hand he held it to his forehead, letting out another small sigh.

“No, All Might has that covered, said I can spent the weekend at the teachers dorms with you, but I still need to go there during the day to help keep an eye on them.”

He sounded annoyed which made you laugh a little bit.

Setting your book on the couch, you swung your legs down next to him, sitting down after turning in his direction.

You couldn’t really see him, he knew that, all you could see was a thermal imagine of him, as you had described before he was basically just a silhouette of red, yellow and orange to you.

He loved how your eyes looked though, a gentle gold colour, and the brighter it was the darker they were, the darker it was the brighter they were, almost combatting the light so you could still see.

Right now they were a honey colour, and he rested his head on the back of the couch as he just stared at you.

“I know you’re staring.” You whispered.

“No you don’t.”

You grinned a little bit.

“Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t. Now I do.”

“Be quiet.” He huffed.

You laughed softly, and you held your arms out, waiting for him to adjust how he was sat and lay down with his head in your lap.

You placed your hands on the side of his face and leant down, and he lent up to meet you halfway in a gentle kiss.

Pulling away, you gently messaged his temples for him, working out all the stress of the day.

“Have you been inside all day?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Yeah, there wasn’t really much to do today, and I didn’t have to teach any classes, though some of your students did come asking for me to explain rescue missions to them.”

“Did you?”

“Of course, I’m not mean you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Alright, if that’s how we’re playing it I won’t do this anymore and you can suffer through the stress.” You taunted.

You quickly stood up, going to walking away but he was quicker, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You grinned a little when you felt him burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t say anything, you just took his free hand, lacing your fingers with his as you sat there peacefully.

You knew he had fallen asleep like that when his hand fell a little from around your waist, and you gave a little laugh, nudging his head a little with your shoulder.

“Shota wake up, come on.”

He grumbled something you couldn’t quite understand.

“Shota, you’ll get hurt sleeping like this, come on.”

He moved his head and stood up, and you held your hand out to him, letting him take it so you could lead him through to the bedroom.

Sitting him on the end of the bed, you stood in front of him, and he looked up at you.

“Go to sleep, I’ll start cooking.”

“Take a nap with me.” He said.

You laughed.

“Alright, I won’t say no to that.”

You walked around to your side of the bed and laid down, holding your arm out to him so he could shuffled over.

Aizawa tucked his head under your chin, and you softly gripped the fabric of his shirt as you closed your eyes.

It didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep, but while you stayed asleep, when the sound of someone knocking resounded through the place Aizawa woke up.

He untangled himself from you, covered you with the quilt so you wouldn’t get cold and walked towards the door while tying his hair up.

“This better be important.” He huffed.

When you eventually woke up you noticed the empty spot on the bed, and judging by the fact it was mostly a shade of blue now it had been empty for a while.

Getting up, you walked to the kitchen.

“Shota?”

There was no response and you frowned.

Making your way back towards the front door, you you slipped your shoes one, grabbed your jacket and left, heading downstairs where a few other teachers were.

You made your way over, looking at each one of them until you recognised the silhouette of your friend.

“Mic?” You called.

He looked over to you.

“Therma! Our favourite rescue hero, what’s up yo?”

You laughed a little bit.

“You know where Aizawa went?”

“Yeah! Some trouble at 1-As dorm, he had to go sort it out before things got out of hand!”

You nodded your head, making your way outside and down the path.

It was dark, so it wasn’t hard to recognise the heat signatures coming from the dorms, and you noticed one coming towards you.

“What’re you doing out this late? Call out?”

“Oh, power loader, hey, no, I’m looking for Aizawa, apparently he’s at his classes dorms, do you think maybe you could help me get to the right one?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The other hero turned around to walk in line with you, both of you talking about work as you wondered, and after a few minutes you finally stopped.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

With that he left, and you knocked on their door before entering, looking around.

“Oh? Can we help you (Y/N)?” Mina asked a little confused.

“Looking for your home room teacher.”

“He’s gone back I think.”

You let out a slight groan, and turned back around, offered them a wave as you left their dorm, making your way back to the teachers dorm.

You were pretty close when you saw someone walking ahead of you, and you began to jog over.

Aizawa heard the sound of you jogging, he didn’t know you were awake or looking for him so at the noise of somebody approaching him he spun around, activating his quirk.

When your vision suddenly went from thermal to normal, you let out a confused yell, slapping a hand over your eyes.

Aizawa quickly walked over, taking your hand carefully from your eyes, placing a hand on the side of your face.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

You looked at him, and you let out a small breath.

“Do it again…” you whispered.

“What?”

Now he was just confused.

“Do it again.. please…”

Aizawa took you inside, back to your shared space in the teachers dorms, and he sat you down on the couch.

Crouching down, he rested his arms on your knees.

“What do you mean do it again?”

“I.. I think you cancelled my quirk…”

“Is that possible?”

“I.. I think so, Shota please I haven’t seen things normally in so long… I haven’t seen you…”

You reached out, carefully placing your hands on the side of his face.

“Please…”

“I don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Shota please…. Take it away again so I can see you…”

He sighed, slowly standing up, pausing so he could kiss your forehead before he stepped away, saying he was going to make dinner.

You sat on the couch with a small frown.

You didn’t think it was dangerous if he took your quirk away, neither of you had thought to try it before, he didn’t just want to erase your quirk and you had never asked him, not until now.

He wanted to make you happy and erase it, see if it worked and if you would be able to see the world as it was.

At the same time he didn’t want to do it because if he did, and you looked at him, messy hair, scar on his face, he hadn’t shaved for at least a week, wearing his baggy hero costume he was worried maybe you’d think he wasn’t like you thought.

He was worried you’d want someone better than him, he struggled as it was with showing affection to you, and he’d come a long way since the start of the relationship, but he still had his doubts.

You were too good for him. He always believed that.

He never brought it up again, and he was hoping you wouldn’t, but he could tell you thought about it, so after another week he finally sat you down.

He crouched down in front of you, resting his arms on his legs with a sigh.

“Close your eyes.”

You nodded, doing as he said.

“Alright.”

You opened your eyes, and immediately you noticed how bright everything was, full of different colours, but your eyes were locked on his red ones.

He was pale, his hair was floating upwards, a deep black, he was wearing a white shirt and a black tie, and you could see the scar on his face, just under his eye.

He realised his quirk, rubbing his eyes and your went back to normal.

He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he turned away from you, you didn’t say anything, was that a bad thing?

“I can’t hold it longer, sorry…” he mumbled.

He began to leave the room.

“You’re so beautiful…” you whispered.

Aizawa stopped, keeping his face away from you forgetting you couldn’t read his expression.

“Be quiet…” he mumbled.

With that he quickly left the room, and you smiled, your thoughts completely focused on that one pure clear image of him.

You kept asking him to erase your quirk so you could see him, and eventually you both went to power loader to get him to help make something.

Which took a few months to finalise the details and he did the paperwork for you, and finally you had the procedure to have it done.

Recovery took a while, but tonight you were allowed to remove the bandages from your eyes, and Aizawa was stood in front of you.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

You nodded, letting him unwrap the bandages.

He looked at the small device attached to your temple, and he made sure it was set to the right setting.

They had managed to make a device that was connected to your eyes, meaning you could hopefully control your quirk now.

“You can open your eyes whenever you’re ready.”

You took a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes, and there he was again, dark eyes, hair tied up, he’d shaved, dressed up nicely in a suit.

You smiled brightly, reaching a hand up to the side of his face.

Aizawa noticed your eyes had changed to (E/C), and he smiled a little which made you smile even more.

“You made yourself look so handsome for me…?” You whispered.

“I wanted to make a good impression…” he mumbled out.

He averted his gaze awkwardly, and you reached behind him, pulling his hair down.

Then you moved your hands to his tie, undoing it, carefully taking it from around his head and he looked at him confused.

Did you not like it?

You set his tie aside, and placed your hands on the side of his face, leaning up to kiss him before dropping yourself back down.

“No matter how you dress, or how often you shave, hair up or down, you’re still the most beautiful person I’ll ever see Shota…”

“Can’t say that when you haven’t seen other people it doesn’t make sense…” he mumbled.

You gave a small shrug.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But I love you, so you’ll always be my favourite person to look at.”

He gave you a little smile, leaning down to capture you in another kiss.

When he broke away you went to go look at everything, leaving him to change back into some caudal clothes but he noticed you would come back every so often to look at him.

When he woke up the following morning you were gazing at him with soft eyes, a smile on your face.

You looked at him so softly, so lovingly as if he was without imperfection, and it was the same way he looked back at you.

Even when you weren’t together sometimes you would seek him out just to sit there and watch him, even if he did keep telling you that you saw him every day.

You just couldn’t get enough of looking at him.

He was sitting in the office of UA with you sat at your desk, head resting on your hand as you admired him.

“Are you ever going to stop?” He asked.

“No, because you’re absolutely perfect.”

You got up, walking over and placed your hands on his face, brushing some of his hair out of the way.

“My Shota…” you whispered.

He awkwardly looked away, but he did whisper under his breath that he loved you.

It wasn’t loud, but you heard it and you grinned a little bit as you walked back over to your desk to do some work.

This time it was his turn to just sit there and look at you, admire you and how perfect you were

[e-nonsense]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟'𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵. 𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰

prev / next | masterlist

pairing. batfam x batsis!reader + platonic!matt murdock x batsis!reader

warnings. swearing, child neglect, mentions of an accident that makes you blind, canon/typical violence, nothing goes with comics

series masterlist

You got to Gotham city when you were five, you didn't want to go but you had no choice your mother was dead, and had left you in the care of your father.

But even at five years old your father had no time for you. Always busy with the public, or with Batman.

At the time Dick was fifteen, he had no reason to care for a little sister, but Jason. Oh Jason Todd, to you he was an angel.

Your big brother who at eight years old you deemed cooler than Dick Grayson.

Everyday after patrol, he'd come up and check on you, tell you a story usually a more child friendly version of his missions.

You kept him grounded, you made all his anger go away, an anger you blamed Bruce for because when you two first met he wasn't angry he was a happy kid. Everytime you called his name, the soft mutter of "Jay" would knock some sense into him.

But after the accident, the one you went blind, you were nine nearly ten and Jason would stay fifteen, in that year you had lost two things.

Your sight, and your big brother.

You were often met with pity than concern because of it. Everyone always asking if you were alright, but never truly caring about the answer.

You heard about the headlines when it happened, "Y/n Wayne, gone blind" or "Gotham's little princess now Gotham's latest victim"

It's not like they actually cared, no of course not they only gave a shit about the publicity they'd get from selling stories like this.

You were only nine years old, you'd think five years would be enough to adjust.

Apparently not..

"Miss Wayne" you heard a gentle knocking at the door of your father's office- well it's your office now. Bruce signed Wayne Industries off to you, because it would make everyone's lives easier if you (someone they deemed quite useless) were actually doing something important, it gave them more vigilante time. Besides you finished school already, you were a smart kid, always top of your class you managed to skip a couple of grades and graduate early like super early.

You were a disappointed when nobody but Alfred turned up, then again you'd stopped caring about that a while ago. Jason - your beloved zombie brother - wouldn't stop apologising, and he took you for ice-cream and hung out with you for the rest of the night as an apology. You couldn't stay mad at him.

"Yes?" you'd been running the company for a few weeks, Alfred was usually helping you. Reading out things that weren't in braille, but since the first thing you did when you got Wayne Industries was buy braille embossers mainly 'cause you knew Alfred would always be there to help you with everything.

"Sorry to disturb you Miss, but y'know that guy that you fired last week?"

"Yeah, the one that was caught uh- having sex in the storage room right?"

"The very same Miss" if you could see right now Tani's face would be littered with pink on her cheeks, "He wants to sue"

"And?" you groaned, that came out harsher that you intended, you could sense that she understood.

"Well he's got a pretty compelling case against the company. When your father owned it that is, very incriminating"

"shit" you muttered under your breath, mentally thanking any godly being out their that Alfred wasn't there to hear you.

"how hard is it to get a good lawyer?"

"No" Matt's voice was firm, he didn't want to take the case and nobody could make him.

"no what do you mean, no" Foggy didn't get it, I mean he sort of did but you were offering a nice pay- like more than what's in their pay grade- but it had nothing to do with criminal law, sort of.

"I don't want to do it Foggy, it has nothing to do with my job or qualifications"

"I'm going to do it then"

"No" Foggy wasn't even listening, he had already walked out of the room and went to reply to the email your secretary had sent to him and various other lawyers.

Foggy stepped up to Tani's desk- Matt beside him- and smiled, eying to the elevator that led all the way up to your office, two security guards on each side. You had put them there for Tani because when she didn't let people up they'd harass her.

"Hi, we're here to see Miss Wayne" Foggy's voice only slightly louder than the crappy music in the background. Tani looked up, "name?"

"Nelson, Foggy Nelson"

For the first time since they arrived Matt talked, but only to utter his name.

"Through the elevator please"

They walked as silently as possible, neither in the mood to talk to one another. Once they were inside and going up Matt was talking.

"Y'know kid’s probably just gonna be another spoilt rich kid, who's daddy running the business behind their back because they can't do shit"

Foggy only let out a sigh, and walked through the elevator doors when he saw it open, only to reveal another door, one he assumed led to your office.

He was shocked to hear laughter coming from inside the room, what ever happened to professionalism?

"Alfie, I swear this guy was high-"

Matt heard a this 'Alfie' guy chuckle "Miss Wayne you can't say that about them, they're lawyers that came hear to help you"

"I know I know, but you should've seen them" you exaggerated the word seen and it made Alfred laugh.

But the laughter stopped when Foggy knocked on the door and Alfred cleared his through smiling while gesturing for them to come in.

"Oh my god, she's blind Matt" Foggy whispered, as he watched you move from leaning on the desk and stood up straight.

"Sorry I'd shake your hand but I'm not exactly sure where you are"

Matt smiled at that "Don't worry 'bout it, 'cause I don't know where you are either"

"He's blind" Foggy not so discreetly whispered to you.

"I can see that" you whispered back with a chuckle, you cleared you throat "now onto business then?"

"Of course"

Okay maybe Matt was a little wrong about you, alright very wrong about you. You were nothing like he imagined, but then again he hadn't put much thought to what you might be like.

He could tell that you could handle yourself, and that impressed him a lot. He could also tell that you were still grasping the ropes of being blind.

And well he wanted to help you, to train you. He thought it was funny, him training someone but he wanted to try. Maybe you could be the next Daredevil.... scratch that he didn't want that for you.

Now how is someone supposed to reveal a secret identity to a complete stranger?

ᴛᴀɢ/ꜱ: @fandxmslxt69 @jaguarthecat @bxdbxtxh15 @byebyeeye @8-29pm

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[witchyafterdark]

— Sebastian Sallow Headcanons; pt. 1

[None of the images belong to me! All credits to the owners and editors of these images!]

During 6th year, he tried his best to do good throughout the school year, and distract himself from the remnants of the Dark Arts' hold on him. Instead of giving into the temptation of the call to research more about the forbidden spells, he instead busied himself helping people with their academics.

He helps MC most of all, scheduling a constant time and day for tutorials about all the lessons they might have missed out on, in spite of their Field Guide. (And yes, he also gifted Ominis with Braille-engraved ingredient bottles for Potions class).

He extends this help towards underclass students, mostly Slytherin ones... cause you know, he still has that House Cup competitive streak in him.

Bonus: When he's in the library to study and tutor others, he usually leaves his blazer and robes back at the dorms to be more comfortable and laidback. He also started to wear reading glasses more frequently than before, and uses it to push back his messy waves when he doesn't need it. That's when he started to wonder why there seems to be more students, mostly girls, asking for his tutorial and academic assistance all the time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

⭆⭆⭆

In the midst of Victorian standards of propriety and social decorum between men and women, Sebastian is actually quite well-versed in taking care of women in his life. When it was socially acceptable for men to opt out of "womanly discussions," Sebastian knows more than the average man, thanks to having been attuned to his twin all his life.

He was literally there when Anne was hunched over her food, in pain, at the Great Hall during their 2nd year. After almost carrying her all the way to the Hospital Wing, he demanded to know what was going on with her... until Nurse Blainey told him she started to have her monthly bleeding.

Instead of shying away from the topic, he took it upon himself to research in the library all there is about women's health and anatomy. When he didn't find what he was looking for, that's when he started to sneak into the restricted section for more information than what was available!

Best believe he was by Anne's side the next morning with a handful of chocolates, sweets, and a pair of enchanted warm, fuzzy socks to ease her period pains. This boy is not afraid of hush-hush women problems. He might even go down to the kitchens to make Anne her favorite soup to keep her warm, full, and cozy for bed.

(Will be the best girl dad)

⭆⭆⭆

I firmly believe that Sebastian would eventually stumble upon the cure for Anne as an adult.

Right after graduating from Hogwarts, he would most likely become a curse breaker; not only because it suits him, but he has a restless and tumultuous relationship with himself. Being buried in work while being in foreign lands serve as a good distraction for him. Sitting too long by himself doing nothing can make him ruminate about his past, and that's no good.

If Anne is still alive by the time he finds her cure, he would most certainly try his best to rekindle a connection with her, finding wherever she currently resides. He might even beg Ominis to tell him where she is, promising that his findings are backed up by other curse breakers or whatnot (even if that may not exactly be true), just so he'd be told of Anne's whereabouts.

Understandably, Anne would be extremely wary of all of this. But Sebastian can be extremely persuasive, and would have to be completely transparent with her about all of the information he found. He will get his sister back, and that was a promise he made to himself all those years ago. He never abandoned that promise.

But if Anne had already passed away, stumbling upon the cure during his work travels would make Sebastian spiral out of control. He will most likely disappear from the face of the earth, and not even Ominis' underground connections will be able to trace him.

Dark wizard and poacher camps can be reported to have been decimated to the ground overnight over a span of months, seamingly by the work of a vigilante. But in reality, Sebastian has been unleashing his rage and anger on those people who were like the wizard who cursed his sister. No one can stop him from this moment of grieving. He needs some sort of justice for what happened to Anne, and this is the only way he can think of in the midst of his grief.

Simultaneously, though, he has been collecting illicit and illegal information about all the curses, hexes, rituals, and dark magic he can get his hands on. He needs to know about all of them to be prepared for the worst in the future, however his future might be. This mission of his makes him compile and bind some sort of a tome of all the cures and solutions to the Dark Arts.

This kind of pattern continues of over the course of a couple of years, writing a letter to Ominis and MC every now and then to let them know he's still alive. Once he is quite satisfied and have come to terms with his grief, only then would he reemerge into society.

⭆⭆⭆

On a more lighthearted note, being a curse breaker is something he doesn't actually see himself doing for the rest of his life as he grows older. During his youth, he reveled in his findings and discoveries, taking pride in his abilities to be quick on his feet in perilous situations. Like most young men, he will maximize the years of his prime, traveling to distant lands and seeking opportunities elsewhere.

But as he falls into a groove, he might also feel the effects of the job on himself. Places and faces can get old to him once he realizes that he's no longer the young man he used to be. Weariness slowly seep into his bones, and he would love nothing more at this point than to be embraced into a warm home, and taking life slowly.

He realizes that time waits for no man, and perhaps this all stemmed from seeing Ominis recently. His old friend looking more at peace with himself, calm and contented with his own found family.

This could be the final push for Sebastian to finally hang the coat, and quietly retire from being a curse breaker. And this is where Professor Sallow comes into the picture.

Going back to Hogwarts, now as a teacher, gives him the sense of relief and comfort he didn't know he was yearning for. It's as if he has been holding his breath for so long, and now, he can breathe easy again. He feels safe now, with a renewed sense of purpose.

All of his learnings and discoveries during his prime will most definitely take their place in the familiar shelves of the Hogwarts library. He might even feel nostalgic over the fact the he now has actual unlimited access to the Restricted Section, with some of his books sitting right next to the ones he used to get into trouble for.

[1humanbeans]

Isatmonth Day 23: Familytale

written text under read more

Siffrin: Mira was telling me about her horror books. I got an idea at that moment Siffrin: Y'know, I was reading a horror story in braille once, and I could always tell something bad was gonna happen... I could feel it Mirabelle: Siffrin! I caught her concealing her laughter. Success!

Isabeau: I finally got around to giving Sif the hat that I've been making for them since he lost their old one. They look adorable wearing it & I can't wait to design more clothes for them!

Mirabelle: Today, I spent my day by helping at the local bakery while the others were doing their own things. I'm really glad I took those baking classes back in Dormont. I did end up badly burning a batch of scones though, so maybe it's time for me to retake some of those classes.

Bonnie: Me and Za and Belle and Dile and Frin needed ingreediants (ingredients). I went to pick big mushrooms. There was a sadnis (sadness) there! I hit it with my pan. I got the mushroo,s and made stue stew. I am a grate (great) chef cooker!

Odile: Mirabelle & I began a book club recently, so I spent majority of today reading that book she recommended to me. It was very gory & actually banned in a lot of places. You wouldn't think Mirabelle enjoys this type of book by looking at her

[grimalkinmessor]

MP100 Characters Ranked on How Likely I Think They Would Be To Use The Death Note:

(because I like combining my hyperfixations ✨)

Mogami. I don't think I have to explain this one.

Ritsu. He is going on a killing spree IMMEDIATELY the boy practically IS Light Yagami, his name is literally spelled with the kanji for justice and he already went on one power-hungry crusade, he is RIPE on the Kira tree og

Dimple. He already has the god complex down, he just has to get on board with the whole killing people thing—considering he's already an evil spirit, it wouldn't take much convincing tbh

Shou. He would cause SO much havoc with it but only for fun. For the meme. For the vine. He kills the Queen of England with it and cackles as he watches the ensuing flood of Megamind memes. He would also threaten his dad into compliance with it because the Death Note isn't Battle Based, it's Instadeath. "Ever go on TV and embarrass me like that again and you're going out by dysentery."

Takenaka. He's not a bad kid, but being telepathic would make him incredibly susceptible to wanting to take bad people out before they did anything wrong. Plus just getting them to shut up. That idiot that keeps having vivid erotic fantasy in the middle of science class has ONE more again before Takenaka would embrace his villain arc whole-heartedly. The only reason he's this far down is because I think he'd hesitate.

Tsubomi. I think she'd kill someone just to see if she could get away with it. Then she'd put it away and only bring it out when certain situations arose that needed a Quick Solution™. That girl knows what needs to be done and she does it—she decisive. Anything like Suzuki happens again and she just drops them dead on live television Lind L. Tailor style and then goes on about her day like nothing happened. All heroes wear pretty hair clips 🙏

Tome. I don't know how to explain this one. Vibes. She feels like she'd be gripped by the powerful urge to kill someone but it would take her a lot to go through with actually writing someone's name down. She'd want to test the Death Note first to see if it worked, so that's one person down, but anyone else would need to have either hurt her or her friends irreversibly, and even then it would probably be a one time thing. She'd use it far less than Tsubomi—two people might actually be her max.

Serizawa. I hc that people with psychic powers can see the Death Note's bad jujus or whatever, so he wouldn't have to test it to know it would work, but I still think he'd use it. If he found it while he was still with Claw, he'd use it because it was easier to kill someone that way than with his psychic powers. Even if it he found it after Claw, it'd be the same reasoning. He's definitely killed people in the past and if someone hurt his friends or his mother he'd very much take the easy out of simply writing down a name rather than going for a fight. He'd still feel really bad about it though, so it'd probably only happen once.

Minori. She uses it to see if it's real, finds that it very much is, and then locks it away in her room. She won't use it, but it'll be a constant thought in her mind. A very real temptation.

Emi. She uses it once out of curiosity to see if it's real, then buries it in the woods where no one will ever find it...but she can go back for it if she ever needs it.

Hanazawa. He's reformed but his temper is still something to behold. He's only this far down the list because he's got that "I could kill you with my powers why would I need a book to do it for me" swag ✨

Shimazaki. Similar to Teru but less reformed. "I would just kill you with my powers why would I need a notebook" two electric boogaloo. Plus he's blind and idk if the Death Note takes braille or morse code.

Toichiro. The ULTIMATE "I'll just kill you with my powers I don't fucking need that thing"

Shinra. He wouldn't use it, but he'd absolutely make the mistake of picking it up and handing it over to someone that WOULD use it (cough rising sun psychic division cOugh)

Onigawara. Talks big shit about using it, but would never. Likes to think he COULD use it though, even though he's too upright for it.

Reigen. Picks it up out of curiosity and gets a laugh out of it, but doesn't test it. He's seen enough shit to be cautious though, so he has Mob look it over and then burns it once Mob confirms it's got bad vibes.

Mob. Sees bad vibes. Doesn't even pick it up. Blasts it into ash and goes home without thinking about it again. Buys milk on the way there.

[moongirlwidow]

File: Volkov, Vespera Anetka

Alias: Winter Widow

Status: classified

File Last updated: July 4, 2023 AD

———

Age: 15

Class: 16ABX

Graduation Year: 2023

Origin: Romania

Birthday: August 11, 2008

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Handlers: Krista Udova(62431), Milunka Dulovna(90218), Melina Vostokov(Iron Maiden)

Trainers: Winter Soldier(Barnes, James B.), Taskmaster(Dreykov, Antonia)

Track: Field Agent(undercover; weapons specialist)

Appearance

Eye color: gray

Hair color: black

Skin: white; pale

Build: tall, lean, bony

Height: 5’9.79”

Weight: 101.235lbs

Notable markings:

birthmark;right thigh back, oblong Burn scar; left ankle, inside, 4”x 3”x 9”

Specialty Training

- Figure Skating

Began: 2 years

Training time: 6hrs every other day, 17hrs every Thursday and Monday

On track to the Winter Olympic Games. Reliably lands quads, possible pairing with Hydra 20180 for pair skating.

- Deadlift

Began: 6 years

Training time: 1hr daily

Will reach national record by 2028

Current capacity: 480lbs

- Combat Mimicry

Began: 7 years

Can mimic opponent’s fighting style closely. Taught by Taskmaster

- Biochemistry

- Codebreaking

- linguistics

Languages

Spoken: Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Written: braille, Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Read: braille, Russian, English, Norwegian, Welsh, Polish, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Qubecois, Italian, Latin, Ancient Greek, Greek, Old English, Cantonese, Japanese, German, Hebrew, Sanskrit, Korean, Swedish, Hindi, Punjabi, Pennsylvania Dutch and Scots Gaelic

Other: American Sign Language, Russian Sign Language, International Sign, Morse code

Status

[section redacted]

Role

- replace the Iron Maiden following graduation

- should Taskmaster Program default, replace Winter Soldier and Taskmaster

- restore Red Academy-HYDRA control over XXXXXXXXX

Miscellaneous

— favored by Lt.Borisov

- Untouchable Status — RE; Grad Mission

- Enforced Separations — not allowed with peers without supervision, initiated 2015

- extremely exemplary when undercover in Queer Rebellion Groups, Lesbian Covers reccomended

Graduation Mission Assign.

Seduce XXXX XXXXXXX as debutant Gabrielle La Aubrey(CF61789), knock out with C19JL1990 formula(oral component), identify and procure XXXXXX XXXXX through whirlwind romance focusing on subject’s romantic beliefs. XXXXXXX has taste for young virgin women, will have just inherited full title/shares; foolish party persona crafted. Deep Cover in France; 6 weeks, fake family emergency and return with items. (Summary)

Part II