#hoh author

[jaeclerc]

Baby Come Home // Charles/Daniel // 2.6K

tw: ableism towards a deaf character

Charles isn’t too sure when he first met Daniel, he has just always been there, like the shine in his maman’s eyes or the slight dip on the third step of the staircase leading upstairs. He can’t remember when he first noticed him, but he can remember the first time Daniel actually looked back at him and noticed him.

He was 6, staring up the stairs of their house as he watched Jules, Enzo, and Daniel bounce up to the top level, a frown on his lips. They thought they were so grown up, at their ripe age of 8. Maybe they were, Charles didn’t know. He was only 6. But, he desperately wanted to play with them and he signaled that with incessantly flashing the lights so Lorenzo would look at him so he could sign. Their mother was hunting down the new pack of batteries for Charles’ cochlear's and had been for the last hour. 

“I want to play!” He signed to Enzo when he finally looked at him, rolling his eyes at Charles. “Please Enzo.” 

Charles wasn’t that good at lip reading so when Daniel said something to him, he couldn’t quite understand, his face scrunching as he signed to Enzo. 

“What?” He demanded, looking between both his brother and his cousin. 

“Nothing, Charlie.” Jules signed back to him, before he turned to Daniel and gestured, presumably explaining that Charles was Deaf and couldn’t hear anything without his processors on. He also gestured to Enzo, pointing to his hearing aid on his left ear, probably explaining that all of them were on the deafness spectrum as best as an 8 year old could. 

Daniel nodded, his head quirked to the side as he waved at Charles before turning to talk to Jules and Lorenzo. 

“Daniel said he wants to play with you.” Jules automatically translated for him. Charles grinned and went to see if his Maman had found the batteries so he could actually talk to Daniel without missing every other word from his lips. He was trying hard to learn how to lip read in school but it was very hard and most of his family was at least to an intermediate level of ASL or LSF, so he didn’t have to use it at home. 

Charles flickered the lights when he walked in the room, causing his Maman to look up as he signed “Did you find them?” 

His maman gestured to the counter where his processors were laying on the counter, signing back that she had. He waited for her to help him put them back on him, smiling as they turned on and he could hear the world around him again. 

He ran off to find Daniel to show him that his ears worked again. Kinda. Jules told him that his hearing ear and his Cochlear sounded a little different but Charles knew no difference, having always only heard through his devices. 

-

The first time Charles really realized just how much Daniel meant to him, he was 14. 

He was sitting at the lunch table with Enzo, Jules, and Daniel, fiddling with his processors. The noise in high school was a lot, even two weeks into the transition from his Deaf focused middle school into mainstream high school. His English skills were advanced, he could speak well, and he had no problems with focusing in a normal classroom, but the cafeteria was a different story. Thousands of voices and sounds came crashing over him all at the same time and he wasn’t used to it. 

“Charles.” Enzo scolded when he saw him playing with the device. “Don’t break it again. Just take them off for the moment if you’re really that bothered.” Charles rolled his eyes at him but detached the magnets, making everything go silent around them as he looked at all of them. Charles started eating his lunch, chatting with Enzo and Jules as Daniel vocally spoke to them. They both took turns interpreting for him, but Daniel had spent years with them all. His own hands reflexively clumsily signing the main points of what he was saying, just fragments of what he was talking about, half formed but still clear enough for Charles to understand whatever he was wishing to express to all of them. Charles could lip read well, but he appreciated not having to focus on mouths. 

Charles was struck by how fond he was of Daniel. He was hearing, raised in a hearing household, but he still tried for all of them in their native language, picking up their language and using it to communicate with them, especially Charles who relied a little more heavily on sign as he was born with profound Deafness, while Jules and Enzo were both only fully effected in one ear. 

It struck him with a sudden quickness, how much he liked Daniel. 

“Daniel.” He signed “You need to learn how to sign with both hands, you look like you’re speaking only halfway.” He giggled at the look on his face, smiling at the older boy as he picked at his school issued tater tots. 

Daniel waved to get Charles’ attention once again and used both hands to sign to him. 

“Enrolled. Class. Learn.” He said, and Charles nodded. 

“Good. Because you can understand well but your signing is…not so good. Sorry.” Jules and Lorenzo both nodded their agreement, Jules turning slightly to speak to him. 

“Charles is just picky. He grew up spoiled with everyone knowing sign so he never had to suffer through the well wishers who thought they were fluent. At least you try, but he is right. You really do suck at ASL.” Daniel gasped in mock offense, causing Charles to laugh again, flushing when people looked at him. He assumed he was being loud, but nobody at his table turned to shush him, so he just continued. 

He nudged Jules, signing “You’re just jealous that Maman and Uncle said that I sign LSF better than you.” 

Jules shook his head before saying “Bell.” and gesturing up to indicate to Charles that lunch time was over. He made sure to connect his transmitters again, cringing slightly at the cascade of sound as he gathered his things to dump them. 

He felt a nudge and looked up to see Daniel, replying vocally when he asked “Ear?” 

“Yes, I always put them back in after lunch, Though, I wish I could get away with not. Mr. Pross always breathes so loud into my microphone and has it pressed way too close to his mouth.” He shutters, and Daniel cackles. They had the same math class, so they walked together, pushing through the crowded halls. 

Charles felt so cool walking with Daniel who was extraordinarily more popular than him. He smiled at Daniel as he cracked jokes, trying to only focus on his voice when someone bumped into him, slightly hard, jostling the hand Charles had reached up to push his magnet under his hair, causing his device to fall on the ground. 

The culprit didn’t even stop to apologize as Charles bent down to pick his transmitter, trying to see if it was broken from the person stepping on it. He prayed it wasn’t, his parents had just bought him new racing red ones that he knew were not cheap. But, when he picked it up, he saw that the magnet was now detached and he frowned even harder. 

“Hey!” Daniel called down the hallway, walking after the person who had jostled Charles. “Hey, you!” He caught up to them. It was that guy who had been taunting Charles, the guy from his Advanced French class that had asked why he was there if he was “SPED”. 

“I’m just Deaf?” Charles replied in confusion. 

“Wow! I didn’t know you knew how to speak.” was all he said, causing Charles to wrinkle his nose and look away. 

“Why didn’t you apologize to him for bumping into him?” He demanded, glaring the boy down. 

“Daniel.” He signed “It’s fine!”

“No, it isn’t, Charlie.” Daniel replied. He turned back to the boy, who had introduced himself as Zach on their first day if Charles could recall correctly. 

“Danny, c’mon.” Zach chidded “He obviously said it’s okay.” He mocked Charles signing, and Charles flushed, embarrassed that this was happening in front of Daniel. 

“Don’t mock him. Just because you barely know more than English doesn’t mean you get to mock him. You broke his fucking device. Imagine someone just walking over your precious phone. Say sorry.” Daniel snarled. Charles grabbed his wrist, shaking his head. 

“Who cares? I’m sure he can make some sob story and get it covered.” Daniel shook off Charles’ hand and snatched Zach’s phone, chucking it over the railing of the level they were standing on, watching it clatter and shatter on the laminate floor below them. 

“Let’s go.” Was all Daniel had to say, letting go of Zach and steering Charles away to their math class, leaving everyone there to gawk at them. 

Charles’ parents were furious when they heard what happened, Daniel got suspended for 2 days, and Charles was pretty sure he was in love with Daniel when it was all said and done. 

-

Charles took off his transmitters at 19. He was sick of the world demanding him to conform to their expectations of him. Demanding him to mold himself into a hearing person when he was not. He was Deaf. 

“I understand.” His maman signed to him when he told her he was doing it. “It’s hard in this world. Your papa and I just wanted to give you the best accessibility that we could, but it has always been your choice. When you were about 3, you refused to wear them out for months and all our hearing friends would ask why we would let you do that. As if denying you the ability to be comfortable is the better choice. You can put them back whenever you want. If you want.” She kissed his forehead as he leaned against her, closing his eyes. 

When he told Daniel, signing to him over FaceTime so the other man could practice his interpretation skills with him, he nodded. 

“Good. You always seemed so uncomfortable with them on.” Charles beamed at him. Daniel always got him, above anyone else. He understood Charles more than anyone else in his life. He got all of Charles’ weird idiosyncrasies and appreciated them with so much reverence, it made Charles’ heart nearly beat out of his chest. 

Charles was so in love with him, it made him almost feel sick with how struck he was by the other man. 

“How are your classes?” He signed to Charles, capturing his attention again. 

“So exhausting! You do not understand how tired I am of having to explain why I have my interpreter there and that she’s allowed everywhere I am. Soooo many people demanding to know why I don’t have hearing aids! Do they not understand the concept of being Deaf?” Charles rolled his eyes as he dramatically signed, exasperated. 

He loved being Deaf, he was extremely proud to have grown up in a Deaf family, surrounded by not only his Monegasque culture, but also his Deaf culture, but it was not easy being Deaf in a world that was built for hearing people. Especially when people saw being Deaf as some sort of shortcoming, expecting him to do whatever to make them more comfortable with his Deafness, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort and happiness. Charles was so tired of it, he spent years wearing his transmitters and dealing with how much he hated it just to fit in. He was sick of it. 

He wanted to be comfortable and happy, he was born without his hearing and he liked it that way. 

“I’m sorry, cherry.” Daniel shook his head, before turning his head to look at someone off cam. Charles couldn’t read his lips to even get an idea of what he was saying, annoyed that someone else was trying to take Daniel’s attention. 

Daniel signaled the other person away and turned back to Charles, saying “Sorry, my roommate was wondering who I was talking to. He wants to go out to a party tonight.” 

Charles pointed to his lips, raising his eyebrows as Daniel laughed and translated himself to Charles, causing the other to giggle. 

“Are you going to go?” He asked, a bit sad but trying to keep it under wraps. The downside to being Deaf was that he was so used to keeping open and candid body language that it was hard to hide, even when he schooled his face. 

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I wanna talk to you and we haven’t really spoken much since you started class.” Daniel expressed to him, 

Charles frowned, shaking his head, trying to emphasize as he said “No, you should! I don’t want to keep you from having fun.” Even though all he wanted to do was talk to Daniel. More than anything. 

Daniel signed “Love you.” which caused Charles to smile, his eyes wrinkling and his dimples popping out as he signed it back and hung up, sighing softly as he looked at himself in his phone’s reflection. He felt pathetic with how much he adored Daniel. 

-

Charles was 20 when he got scouted by AR Models. He was 20 when his whole world changed. He was also 20 when he completely went publicly non-verbal, refusing to use his voice when he had his sign and anyone who was actually worth his time allowed him to use his interpreter. 

When he told Daniel, FaceTiming him in excitement, too excited to even use the minimal words he usually did use with the other man, instead rapidly signing to him in LFS, which Daniel was hardly intermediate in. 

“Charles!” Daniel signed back. “I do not know what you are saying, I don’t know LSF that well, darling.” Charles blushed, laughing a little as he simply spoke out loud to him. 

Charles rarely ever spoke in public, but he would happily use his voice with Daniel, even if his volume control was hard to gauge. 

“I got signed. I got signed to a modeling agency. I-” he went back to sign, English was too hard for him to express himself when he was this excited. “I got signed to be a model, Daniel. With a real fucking agency.” 

The way Daniel’s face dropped made Charles’ heart ache in a way he never knew it could, the feeling nearly choking him out. 

“That’s really good, cherry.” Was all he signed back and Charles was confused. Not only by how sad Daniel’s body language seemed, but by the way he wasn’t even smiling at Charles, his dark eyes looking conflicted as Charles watched him. 

“I-are you not happy about it?” Charles asked, and Daniel only bit his lip, looking like he was about to sigh, but Charles couldn’t tell, he could never really tell through the phone. He cocked his head as he stared at Daniel on screen and he sighed as well, feeling the slight vibration in his throat. 

Charles propped his phone on a window seal, too excited to tell Daniel about his new contract that he hadn’t even left the agency building before calling him. He stared at Daniel before going to talk, the other man obviously not going to respond to him. 

“I don’t know what is wrong, but I wish you would tell me. I don’t even know-This is a dream come true for me, you know this. So I am confused why you look like a kicked dog.” Daniel frowned, his eyebrows furrowing but Charles was on a roll, already ranting, his signing getting more and more mixed up between ASL and LSF. He could not understand why Daniel wouldn’t be happy for him. 

“Charles.” Daniel signed. “I am so happy for you. That’s all. I’m happy for you.” and then he hung up and Charles was left in the lobby of his new agency, phone disconnected and tears in his eyes. 

-

Charles was 24 and drunk when he saw Daniel for the first time in 3 years. In some gay bar in New York City of all places, kissing another guy. Charles didn’t know his heart could break all over again, but here it was, shards in his hands in the middle of a neon lit dance bar. 

Daniel looked up and spotted him, and then looked away. Charles wanted to fucking throw up all the espresso martinis he had just drank, and he turned away, smiling at the guy he was with. Who cared what Daniel thought anyway? 

Charles wished he didn’t.

[y2kbugs-moved]

For Welcome Home, are the transcripts provided on the site matching the new pages with audio? Otherwise it's just inaccessible to Deaf/HoH people.

[starblaster]

if you are currently learning ASL, you need to read Introduction to American Deaf Culture by Thomas K. Holcomb

i know hearing people on this website love to pass around those posts with links to free sign language lessons but you know you need to actually put effort into learning about Deaf culture, too, right?

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

[roblogging]

some comforting wolfstar fics for you:

waterloo - frogsandfairies: james knows that wolfstar are pining for each other, hogwarts fake dating !!

wading in waist high water - colgatemintybluegel: wolfstar great british bake off au

flight 143 - thebiinbitch: past wolfstar, reunited on the same flight 5 years later and reconnect

the oldest recipe for parsnip soup - eyra: wolfstar, autistic sirius, the lupins spend christmas with the potters - remus cooks for sirius !!

anything by eyra tbh

red lips and rosy cheeks - soloorganaas: remus takes a latin course in rome for his degree where he meets sirius and the gang

blind and deaf - cocomouse: wolfstar keep bumping into each other on separate blind dates, HoH sirius

my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword - littleoldrachel: remus moves to a new town and sets up a plant shop, gets taken in by the gang

here's to looking at you - thechanchanman: mutual "dislike" to lovers, wolfstar live in the same small town and constantly prank one another

till we have arrived home again - prouvairing: post-second war, wolfstar move to a muggle town! fun ocs, semi-raising harry

stray dogs - msalexwp: sirius raising harry, remus raising teddy, they adopt twin dogs separately and have to spend time together :D

desk art - iamcecimonster: oneshot, university au, wolfstar sit at the same lecture desk and leave lil drawing and notes to each other

hi okay i'm not much of a fluff reader :/ but some of these might help !! + the authors pages !!

feel free to add on if you have any !! my fluff supply is limited

[skygemspeaks]

I don't know who needs to hear this but if audio processing disorder, being d/Deaf/hoh, not having the attention span for podcasts ever deterred you from getting into Welcome to Night Vale, I need you to know that the official website has transcripts for all of its episodes, PLUS if you want to read it in book format, there are script books out for all the episodes, and each chapter has fun little notes from the authors about the writing of those episodes! I have the first script book and it's really nice, 10/10 would recommend.

[hidefdoritos]

Love the notes on this post because yeah, it was a scary dream because it's believable. Sure I'm not physically unable to hear higher pitches, I just have more trouble turning the strings of sounds into separate words that collectively mean something. Twitter would in fact have a field day with this one.

Also dreaming about this probably says something about how chronically online I am.

I was a celebrity being very publicly canceled because I admitted that my auditory processing disorder means I generally have a harder time understanding women's higher voices.

My critics had #ListenToWomen trending. My supporters insisted that my critics were the real sexists because I am also a woman.

[queers-gambit]

If Speaking is Silver, Then Listening is Gold

a Turkish proverb

prompt: ( requested ) you require a bit of reprieve after the week you had, and Tommy's a gentleman.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x hard of hearing female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 4.4k+

note: you hit me in the chest with this request. as someone who is hard of hearing (HoH) and progressively losing what they have left, this got personal.

warnings: author projects, mild angst, hurt and comfort, specified frustration, working with customers SUCK, mild violence, Tommy's a little OC 'cause he doesn't know what to do with emotion!

"Excuse me! God, the service here is terrible! Aren't you listening to me, barmaid!?" The woman with polished finger nails slammed her manicured hand to the bartop aggressively, glaring at you as if you had backhanded her mother.

The sudden slap made you jump slightly, turning your head to acknowledge her before deflecting, "In a moment, ma'am, I'm trying to listen to this man's order."

"I've been trying to get your attention for 10 minutes now!" She argued, the noise of the bar dialed up as the night droned on and the patrons drank more.

"And I'm busy assisting other customers, I'll get to you when it's your turn," you reminded her, blinking at the man in front of you. "I'm so sorry, sir, I, uh, what were you saying?"

He sighed, "You don't remember? Or didn't hear me?"

"I couldn't hear you over the woman yelling at me," you snipped, perking your brows. "Would you like to order or should I move onto another customer?"

He scoffed, "Just get me a fucking bourbon."

"One fucking bourbon comin' at'cha," you rolled your eyes as you turned from the people to grab the bottles of liquor lined up behind you. You poured the man his drink, set it in front of him, and pocketed the bill he slapped in front of you - not offering change as you instantly looked to another customer. He grumbled with displeasure, but you were asking the next person, "What can I get you?"

"Uh, no, I'm next, I've been waiting long enough," the woman with polished fingernails insisted, literally pushing the customer out of her way.

You sighed, "Know what? All right, fine, what can I get you, ma'am?"

At that moment, the doors swung open and a new wave of drunkards stumbled in; the bar roaring to greet the newcomers as the woman ordered her posh drink that had no business being ordered in The Garrison.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked, staring at her mouth in the hopes of reading her lips. She repeated her order, but her tacky lipstick made her lips stick - making it hard to read. "What? I'm sorry, ma'am, it's loud, you're gonna have to speak up."

"Are you fucking with me right now!?" She screeched, making your eyes widen. "You're the fucking deaf - you can't hear a simple order!?"

"I only asked you to repeat yourself," You defended.

"You asked me three times!" She raged.

"So tell me a fourth and shut the fuck up!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Harry stepped in, hand to your shoulder when the woman looked ready to launch over the bar, "I got this. I'll man the bar, you go on - there's some tables that need bussing."

You sighed and stepped back, nodding, "Sure, Harry."

You hated when he did this. Instead of defending you and your inability to hear - something you have no control over - he would always just push you aside and send you to do other chores. It wouldn't cost anything to tell the customers to calm down, it was loud in the pub and you had a hard time hearing as is - but nope! The customer was always right, or whatever bullshit he would remind you.

You were constantly accosted at work for your difficulty hearing clearly. It wasn't that you couldn't hear at all, it was just difficult! Sometimes, you could hear bits of their sentence and just inference whatever words you missed, but that wasn't an exact science. You mostly depended on reading people's lips, always hating asking anyone to repeat themselves; but at work, it wasn't always possible. The people you interacted with seemingly took personal offense that you had a hard time hearing, and each of them made their displeasure known. Again, a great time for Harry to defend you, but the older man didn't like rocking the boat.

You didn't necessarily blame him, knowing the Peaky Blinders kept a close eye on the pub and would probably reprimand (cut) Harry for discipling customers instead of firing you. So, you kept quiet about your displeasure over your treatment because you needed this job - you never wanted to give reason or thought that you were difficult. Maybe that was why Harry would send you off to do other chores, he didn't want you to lose your cool and this job. Though, some of these people deserved a good tongue lashing.

Picking up a spare pail, you went around to a few tables and cleared them of empty glasses before using a rag from your bucket to wipe them down for the next set of people.

Apparently, in that moment, someone decided to move past you, and to their credit, they did say, "Excuse me, luv, behind yah," but you didn't hear him. So, when you straightened up from cleaning the table, you took a natural step back and bumped into a body; gasping when something wet splashed over your neck, shoulders, and down your back and chest. "Oh, fuckin' hell, lass! Watch where yer fuckin' goin'!" The man raged, his empty glass shattered on the floor.

You blinked in shock.

"What? Didn't fuckin' hear me when I told yah I was there!?" The man continued to reprimand you. "Gotta fuckin' listen in a pub like this, lass, you'll cause worse fuckin' accidents!"

"I'm so sorry," you offered meekly, shaking the ale off your arms and glancing at your front to see it trickled in alcohol. You needed to take a deep, long breath before turning to head for the bar.

"What happened?" Harry asked when you arrived, looking mild concerned.

"Another spill," you spoke through a clenched jaw.

"Oi!" The man who dropped his drink all over you approached the bar, barking at Harry. "It's not our fault you hired some deaf bitch! That can't fuckin' hear 'round her! She didn't move from my way, I lost me pint 'cause of her stupidity!"

Stupid...? Did this drunk asshole just call you stupid because HE bumped into YOU and spilled HIS OWN drink? Maybe the money you made at the bar wasn't worth this...

Harry had no issue giving the drunkard another pint of ale as you tried in vain to dry off, but your dress, hair, and skin was completely plastered in sticky alcohol. You felt your eyes burn with stress, wanting to burst into tears and sob your frustrations out, but you didn't have the strength to break down right now. That's how tired and upset you were - you didn't even have the energy to cry.

You went about your evening, bussing tables and avoiding whatever customers you could; keeping your head on a swivel to avoid any other accidents. You felt a little better, but the stress still lingered around the bar; feeling as if the customers were glaring at you no matter what you did. When a natural lull came, Harry let you back behind the bar with the promise of staying near in case you needed him, but you were ready to drop.

Your final straw was about an hour after the usual Peaky Blinders and Shelby brothers had come in for the nightly round(s) of whiskey. You smiled at Arthur when he approached the bar, all too happy to greet you loudly - the lad never having an issue with speaking up when you couldn't hear. Arthur was always happy to accommodate you, having a soft spot for you since his brother, Tommy, had made his interest in you known that past year.

Speaking of, Tommy Shelby, notorious gangster of Small Heath and the head huncho of the Peaky Blinders, entered after his brothers and made an instant approach. "Harry," he greeted when he stepped around the bar.

"Mr. Shelby," Harry nodded.

"Love," he acknowledged you, pecking your cheek sweetly. "All right?"

"Hmm?"

"Doin' all right?" He asked clearly, being similar to his brother and not minding speaking louder, slower, clearer, whatever you needed to hear him better. In fact, Tommy wasn't know for being patient, but with you, he'd repeat himself as many times as it took - but only for you.

"Oh, yeah," you sniffled, trying to hide your frustrations.

"Why's your dress wet?" He worried, petting a sticky lock of your hair back, his concern mounting.

You shrugged, "Bit of an accident, 's not a big deal."

"Someone run into you, again?"

You nodded, "It's fine, though. He got a new pint and calmed down."

Tommy shook his head, gritting, "Who?"

"Tommy."

"Tell me who, love."

"No, Tommy, it's fine," you insisted, petting your hand down his chest in a show of affection; seeing another customer approach the bar. "I'm sorry, I'm working, love, can we talk later?"

He nodded, pecked your temple, grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey and moved for the snug - where his brothers and Aunt Polly waited for him. You got back to work, and barely noticed the time ticking by... Until a new customer approached you with a sneer already marring his face.

"What can I get for you, sir?" You asked kindly, needing to raise your voice over the usual drunken yelling. So, you preemptively warned him, "Sorry, 's bit noisy tonight, you'll have to speak up."

The man ordered his drink clearly, but another few men in loosened slacks and disheveled button-ups stalked up to the bar; crowding around the other two men who stumbled over in obnoxious laughter. You felt your panic spike, already overwhelmed by them all trying to talk over one another.

You were bombarded with drink orders from them all, eyes flickering between them because you didn't know who to listen to first. You tried to get the drinks together at the same time, but in truth, it was overwhelming because the men changed their orders, but got mad at YOU when you didn't quite hear them clearly.

Their drunken words added to the bar's noise level sprinkled with you being hard-of-hearing just resulted in a cluster fuck. "This isn't what I fucking ordered!" The original man complained, glaring at you with distain. "It's really not that hard, girl, my God. If you can't get our drinks right, how you gonna make any man a decent wife? Gonna fuck up his dinners, too?"

"Jesus - I'm sorry, there's just a lot going on. Why don't you remind me your drink and I'll get it now," you offered as kindly as you could.

"I doubt you'll be able to get it right," he sneered, but you missed half his sentence.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!? Just fuckin' listen - it's not hard!" He snarled, literally chucking his glass just past your ear so it shattered into the liquor bottles behind you. "You can't even get a fucking drink right! Fuck you doin' workin' here, then!?"

This caused a huge commotion, obviously.

The Shelby's don't play games, you see, and the moment the glass shattered, they were moving out of the snug to investigate. When they realized someone had offered you disrespect, it was a shit show as the drunkards clashed with the men with razors stitched in their caps. Still in shock from the show of violence, you felt something in your heart snap you into motion.

So, you silently untied your apron, grabbed your coat and home keys, then literally walked out the backdoor - while the men all scuffled. The moment you stepped outside, you let your emotional dam give out - sobbing into the stinging cold air as you moved up the street.

You weren't sure what emotion you felt - be it anger, disappointment, shame, fear... Crippling insecurity. Once at the Irish pub, The Black Lion, you settled at the nearly empty bar and ordered your own drink, something you rarely did anymore. Something about working with alcohol all day made you less inclined to drink, but tonight was different than previous nights.

"All right, lass?" The bartender asked, pouring the whiskey in front of you. "Look a bit put out, huh?"

"Just a long week," you answered. He hummed, nodding and asking something. You felt tears in your eyes when you asked, "C-Could you repeat that?"

Louder, he repeated, "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, no, thank you," you waved off. "Just... Customers being unruly."

He laughed, "Oh, don't I know it. What happened?"

You shrugged, "Nothing important."

"C'mon, lass, if it's made you come inta a place like this, searching for a drink, it's probably important enough."

You sighed, "Honestly, I think I appreciate the silence."

He smirked, "I can respect that. Here," he poured you a new glass, "this one's on the house. I deal with unruly customers, too, so, I know you'll need this second one."

You chuckled and grinned broadly when he went to walk away, did a double take, then left the whiskey bottle to your side with a smirk. He moved off to sit at a different table with some other older men, leaving you alone for the first time in what felt like a long time. It felt ironic for a moment that you sought solitude and silence, but you just wanted time to digest all that happened tonight and move on.

Why couldn't people understand that despite you being a public servant, you were still a human being? A human with human emotions, human disability, who makes human mistakes. Yet according to those entitled pricks that think YOU work for THEM, you were a second class citizen who was underserving of empathy. How dare you ask them to repeat themselves! How dare you misunderstand their order - and quickly replace it! How dare you have a disability past your control that affects your day-to-day life!

There was a heavy, looming feeling of being inadequate.

Being alive was hard enough as it is, more so when a bodily function most others take for granted malfunctioned within you. It made life harder; you had to work harder than everyone else just to operate on their same level. However, if you dare show exhaustion, frustration, any degree of weakness, you were quick to be labeled as "lazy" or "entitled" or your favorite, "dramatic!"

Those people can hear pins drop, they couldn't ever fathom what this felt like. It wasn't that you couldn't hear, you could. It just wasn't on the level other's could heard at, and for whatever reason, it seemed to frustrate everyone else more than you. You were the one dealing with the predicament, and yet, everyone else was seemingly the most inconvenienced! They thought it mortally offensive to be served by someone "like you", thinking your disability was unacceptable in their proximity.

Fucking assholes.

If only they knew the way your stomach knotted itself every time you asked someone to repeat what they said. Every time you said, "Huh?" or "What was that? What did you say?"

You were embarrassed because it made you feel as if you couldn't even be a human "correctly", and it's not like you chose for this to happen! It's not like anyone chooses to make the obligation called life ten times harder by putting you at a functional disadvantage. You felt like "damaged goods" because you felt constantly out of the loop; missing a lot of what's said if you're not paying explicit attention.

However, years ago, you had perfected the ability to read lips. Yet this was difficult when most people you couldn't hear were your customers, majority of who are slurring their words. You worked in The Garrison, meaning that on any given night, there was loud discussions that added to your frustration - but the tips were too good to quit. So you endured. You felt pathetic and borderline like a failure if you quit any job; feeling as if your disability had won by emotionally crippling you. So, while it didn't make a lot of sense to work in a noisy place when you're already hard-of-hearing, you remained at your place of employment simply out of spite.

It was difficult reminding yourself it wasn't your fault, that you were still doing a great job - no matter how many customers catch attitudes, get snippy, or throw full-on adult tantrums. You despised needing to be the "bigger person", but figured nobody else would be willing to accommodate you, so, if you wanted a semblance of peace, you had to be the one to create it.

You reached for the bottle of whiskey after downing your second glass. With a harsh sniffle, you glanced around the pub and realized how many people had arrived to fill in the place. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, acutely aware that you were so deep in your emotional tarpit that you missed the noise rising.

So much for a quiet night.

You poured a new glass, praying to whatever God would listen that you're granted deliverance from this empty, helpless feeling that was pitting your stomach and chest.

After hearing the glass shatter, Tommy and his brothers were rocketing to their feet to investigate. They saw a man, red in the face, yelling hatefully at you behind the bar - liquor dripping off the shattered shelves from the man's bout of violence. There was no thinking for any of them. Tommy recognized you were in a predicament; striding forward first, and the chaos began.

It'd been a good bit since the lads had a good fist fight. No razors, no guns, no advantages - just bare fists and bar furniture.

It cleared the place out, and when the drunkard was hauled off by his companions, Tommy was wiping the blood from his knuckles. Harry frowned at the sight of blood splattered on the floor, shaking his head before calling your name - knowing you had some secret to getting blood out before it stained. However, there was no response. The Shelby boys all looked around expectantly, waiting for you to reappear, but it was evident by the way Harry searched for you that you weren't in the building.

Tommy placed a cigarette to his lips, just lighting it when Harry returned from the back room, informing, "Her belongin's are gone, she must've left early."

This made Tommy whip around sharply to use his own eyes and scan the room. "Nobody saw where she went? How was nobody watchin' her!?" Tommy asked demanded. There were several shakes of different heads, Tommy's anxiety flaring in his chest. He quickly rushed to grab his coat and flat cap, tugging them on in haste, hearing Arthur question where he was going. "Gotta find her," he explained through his panting-panic. "City's dangerous enough for people that can hear properly. God knows what can happen when she's alone at this time of night."

"We'll help," John offered, nudging Arthur, Finn, and their cousin, Michael Gray.

"I'll find her faster," Tommy answered, already out the door.

Michael shared a look around the room, wondering, "He acts like this all the time or just with that one pretty barmaid?"

Arthur smirked broadly, "That one pretty barmaid is Tommy's girl. Don't get caught lookin'."

"He's like this with just her," John chuckled, "always has been, always taking care of her the way she cares for him."

"What did Tommy mean? She can't hear?" Michael questioned innocently.

"Nah, girl's got some hearin', just not a whole lotta it," John explained as if common knowledge. "Never thought I'd see Tommy so patient, so fuckin' doting. He doesn't mind repeating himself if she asks, in fact, he does what he can to talk to her how she needs."

"What's that mean?"

"Like," John paused, sighing through his nose, "he'll face her directly, speak slower to let her read his lips. He speaks up, he's clearer, he wants her to feel like she's not a burden if she can't hear like us can so he does it all organically."

Michael smiled softly, vaguely impressed by Tommy's show of humanity. Speaking of, everyone's favorite gangster was prowling through Small Heath; stopping in each and every open business, searching for the familiar sight of you, and moving on when he was unsuccessful. You weren't at the Shelby home, nor your apartment, church, or anywhere along the Canal - places you frequent when overwhelmed.

Tommy was beginning to get cold, but he wouldn't say that. His determination would keep him warm, and even as the snow began to fall once more, Tommy hiked through the wind. Luck seemed to be on his side because when he entered the third pub, one he doesn't usually step foot in outside of evident emergencies, there you were; sat at the bar looking miserable.

"Thank God," Tommy breathed in relief, straightening his jacket and swiping his cap from his head. He approached your side and reached a hand out to the bartop in front of you, minimally startling you by announcing his presence without words. "Hey, love," he greeted you.

"What're you doing, Tommy? Blinders don't come 'round in here."

"We do when one of our own goes missing."

Your eyes rolled, "I'm not missing, I just needed a break."

"I know," he nodded, "but I'm here to make sure you get home safe."

"I don't need an escort."

"I don't think you do, but it's dangerous at night. You know I care about you and that includes your well-being."

"Oh, don't tell me, you're trying to play the gentleman card?" You scoffed, taking another swallow from your glass. "C'mon, sit down, I don't like drinking alone," you commented, "makes me sad, leaves me alone with my thoughts."

"We can drink at home, love."

"I don't want to go home yet."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'll have to explain why I got fired."

"You didn't."

"Huh!?" You yelped.

"You didn't lose your job," he assured softly.

"No?"

"No, not fired."

"Oh," you mulled over your thoughts, "that's good, then."

Tommy sighed and pulled his coat off to take the empty barstool beside you. "All right," he decided, going through the motions to stick a cigarette between his lips and light it. Smoke wafted from his mouth as he asked, "What happened tonight?"

"You already know, I'm sure."

"I want your truth."

"Doesn't matter," you refused, downing the last of the whiskey in your glass. You went to leave a few bills for your tab, but Tommy stopped you and covered it himself. Your eyes rolled and hand snatched the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey before heading for the exit.

Tommy followed not far behind.

"Love, c'mon, wait up," he grit, catching up to you and tossing his coat over your form, "you're gonna catch ill."

"I'm fine," your eyes rolled. Truthfully, the consumed whiskey in your system acted as an internal heating mechanism; warming your blood, wrapping you in a fuzzy grip.

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

"I just - I'm frustrated, okay?"

"Sure, all right," he agreed, "but why?"

"You don't get it, Tommy," you felt emotional, rounding on him with tears in your eyes. "You don't know what it's like, you can hear just fine, you can still see, you don't know what it's like to progressively lose one of your senses! The way people get angry for something I cannot dictate - it's like they're the one being vastly inconvenienced!"

Tommy nodded, just listening.

"And they crucify me for it!" You sniffled, feeling defeated. "Like I'm some pariah that will infect them with my loss of hearing. They treat me as if - as if I've asked for this, as if I'm doing it on purpose!"

"What would help?"

"Honestly? I don't know anymore, Tommy, but this town is seriously lacking in their ability to empathize. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do - I get so angry now. It happens more and more, people getting angry or frustrated at me 'cause I need them to repeat themselves. What am I supposed to do, huh?"

He smirked slightly, but the sight angered you.

"Oh, fuck off, Tommy!" You turned from him, moving back up the street. "I don't need to laugh at me like the rest of them - "

"I'm not!" Tommy insisted, reaching for your wrist to halt you, whip you around, face him again. Both his hands extended to hold the area above your elbow, speaking clearly, "Listen to me. I was going t'wait, but I think now's a good time."

"Good time for what, Tommy?" You growled, now just wanting to go to bed and hide from your emotions; hide from people; hide from reality.

"I have a new job for you, in the company," he smirked. "We're still getting things structured, but why don't you step away from the bar and come work for me now? Help us build what's left, and then transition into your company job?"

You paused, just staring at him in mild shock.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Why would I joke?"

"You're... Offering me, what? Some job as your receptionist?"

"No, I was thinkin' something a little more paramount."

"Like what?"

"Like Chief of Operations?"

"COO?" You laughed, "For what company, Tommy?"

"Come home with me, we'll talk all about it," he bargained, "but if you accept, you've gotta quit The Garrison, love. We'll need your head in the game, no other distractions."

You felt something in your heart crack, asking, "What if you lot can't stand working with me, too?"

"Because of your hearing?"

"Or, you know, lack there of."

"Love," he smirked, "there's nothing you can do - intentionally or unintentionally - that would make any of us distance ourselves. If we get frustrated, it's not because you can't hear - it's never your disability, love."

"So, if you get frustrated, it's just, what? My personality?"

"More than likely," He grinned, arm snug around your waist again to walk down the snowy lane together. He laughed when your hand rose to pinch his side; squeezing his rib tightly, causing him to flinch and grunt lightly. "Hey, hey, easy with that," he chuckled, seeing your happy smile. "You all right, love? I know tonight was a lot, but... You feelin' any better?"

"I think so," you sighed. "The whiskey helps," you joked, raising the bottle to your lips.

"Mhm," he mused, taking the bottle after you.

"But present company helps more," you complimented softly. "You know, I'm sorry for today..."

"You're sorry that you couldn't hear a bunch of drunks in a packed-out pub?"

"Maybe?"

Tommy smirked, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's not your fault; like you say, it's not something you can control. I'm the one who's sorry you had to endure all of that... The lads got that guy pretty good."

"Good."

"And now you've a new job, yes?"

"After I hear about it," your eyes rolled in humor, taking the bottle back. "What's this big idea for a company anyway? What's it even called?"

"The Shelby Company Limited, and we're gonna change the whole of England, love."

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

[bornagainmurdock]

read my hands/read my mind

author's note: y'all ever had to finger spell directly into someones hands to communicate? nothing quite like it! also disclaimer, this is just one hoh voice and experience, and not universal for everyone that is deaf/hoh.

contents: fluff, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, deaf/hoh reader & uses sign language while talking, sushi and a movie date night with matt

word count: 1.7k

Matt had started learning ASL quite early in your relationship, trying to find as many resources he could that catered to blind learners. You both knew it was a bit ironic that you were hard of hearing and Matt was blind, the major form of communication for one person was a struggle for the other. It made things interesting, and ultimately an interesting daily challenge.

Some days your hearing was better than others, and some days your hearing aids seemed pointless. Today was one of those days. You couldn't hear much, if anything at all, everything was unclear and wobbly, unstable and unmanageable. The first tell being waking up to Matt shaking you, mouth moving but no sound.

Matt kept his hands on your back, shaking you still when you opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. He was still talking, but to no avail.

Lipreading was an art and a science, and Matt unfortunatley in the morning was a mess of words, most of them slurred with sleepiness. The most you got from him was every other word. Something about him thinking you were awake when he got out of bed to find you still sleeping when he was doing the final touches.

And then he mouthed, 'oh you can't hear today.' He nodded and pointed at the side table where your hearing aids were charging. He waited for you to put your hands in his and sign. Sometimes your voice was reliable, but it was too early and silence filled your throat.

You put your hand against his and signed 'no' before throwing the covers off your body and sitting up.

Matt wasn't the greatest at sign, but could finger spell and have basic converstion. Once you stood, sliding on your slippers and making your way to the closet to find clothes for work, he waved to get your attention, pointing then to the kitchen and signing 'food' with his eyebrows down.

You hummed in affirmation, doing your best to wake up your vocal chords.

Matt smiled, signed 'i love you,' and left the room for you to get ready.

You could smell breakfast being cooked in the other room, unable to hear the sizzling of the skillet or plop of orange juice into a glass.

You put your clothes on, settling on something basic and casual to stay comfortable at work, before grabbing a pair of oxfords and sitting on the edge of the bed to tie them.

Matt returned to the bedroom doorway and waved again, waiting for you to look up at him and confirm attention verbally.

"Hmm." You looked up and whispered, "Matty?"

"Hi love," He signed as he spoke, hoping maybe your brain and ears needed to just adjust to being awake, "Breakfast is ready. Eat with me?"

You hummed again, standing up to join him, grabbing his arm to walk.

"Matty, looks so good." You voice sounded distant and un-resonant, having to trust your voice over your hearing to confirm you were making any sound.

"Let's eat" Matt signed and spoke, raising a glass to cheers.

When you both finished breakfast, Matty wrote down his plans for hte day on the dry erase calender in the kitchen. You wrote your own schedule, and once you had both reviewed, you confirmed dinner plans.

'See you later, baby' Matt signed, handing you your keys and bag before opening the door for you to walk together.

'Love you Matt.'

'Love you.'

Work went about as good as it could when you couldn't hear, most people opting to send you emails or write on the notepad you kept on your desk for days like these.

Eventually sounds came back to you, just a little bit, but making everything more tolerable and clearer. You hadn't brought your hearing aids thinking it wouldn't get much better throughout the day, which probably wasn't the brightest idea, but the decision you made regardless. As the clocks moved closer and closer to 5pm, you became impatient, unable to sit still, packing your bag far too early and having to look busy for about 10 minutes.

One of your coworkers, Alex, walked to your office, waving to catch you attention and started signing about office gossip they'd heard throughotu the day that you hadn't been privy to yet. Almsot no one knew ASL at work, and this was one of the moments where that was a good thing.

Once you both had finished the conversation, you signed goodbye to Alex, and made your way down the elevator and out the lobby, waving goodbye to the desk staff there.

Once you had gotten home, you unpacked your bag, put on clothes for dinner with Matt, and placed the hearing aids around your ears, turning them on and using a YouTube video as a sound base to adjust the volume levels correctly. You sat down on the couch and scrolled through Twitter for a while.

Matt got home not long after you did, opening the door and unpacking his bag once he walked around the entry way to the dining table.

You turned back to look at him, Matt immediatly lighting up with a smile.

He signed the beginning of his sentence before realizing he could hear the buzzing of your hearing aids.

"Better than this morning?" He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

"Mmhm. Not a lot, but enough to wear them. Still fuzzy and muddled together but working through it." You signed as you spoke, both out of habit and as a method of confort even though Matt couldn't see it. "Missed your voice."

Matt appraoched you on the couch, sitting next to you to pull you into his chest carefully, holding you to him.

"Well then I should keep talking, hmm?" He was leaned in, mouth near your ears to make sure you could hear the nuances in his voice. He started kissing there under your ear and across your jaw.

"Keep it in your pants, tiger. We got dinner plans." You placed your hands in his to sign, trying to be slow enough for him to keep up.

"Let me get dressed and then we can go." He signed back into your hands, speaking as well.

He got up to change, leaving you on the couch happy and buzzed with affection.

When he emerged out of the bedroom, you took his hands and grabbed your bag to leave.

"Sushi still okay? That place on the corner is doing happy hour right now." Matt said grabbing his cane.

"Yes, please."

He led you out of the apartment building, taking your arm to look like you were guiding him.

"Just one more block, left at the light." He pointed ahead, signing key words to help you in the sound nightmare of NYC.

Once you got to the restaurant, Matt asked for a table a bit isolated to give you a better chance at focusing on his voice and not distracted by the cities distorition.

Once they sat you, the waiter came by with cucumber waters, giving you a minute to look over the menus.

"What're you thinking, baby?" Matt felt your body become overwhelmed, heart pounding. "Tell me what you want and I can order when they come back."

"Cali roll with crab, eggplant roll, hmmm, edamame, and maybe the fried tofu." You pointed as you spoke hoping it would help you remain focused.

'Drink?'

"Lemonade, please."

'Got it.' Matt signed, taking a moment to put it all to memory.

The waiter came back and Matt ordered for both of you with ease, looking over at you ever other word to make sure you were still okay.

"Sounds good. We'll have that right out." The waiter said, closing their notebook and walking away.

'How was work?' You signed and spoke to Matt, your hands in his again.

"Foggy and I goofed the whole day to Karen's dismay. I think she's sick of us." He said, laughing.

'People at work were kind to me today but I just think they feel bad for me. Alex told me the office gossip. Boring day.'

"Good thing we're here then."

The food was brought out pretty quickly, you and Matt eating everything without a word.

He payed the check and smiled. 'Home?'

'Home.'

You walked back together, Matt signing stories the whole way home with one hand while the other held onto your upper arm.

When he opened the door you about collapsed, exhausted from the day.

He half-carried you to the bedroom, supporting most of your weight.

'Let's get these off you.' He signed, reaching for your hearing aids waiting for confirmation to remove them.

Once you nodded he gently unwrapped them from around your ears, placing them in the case and making sure they charged by listening for the hum of the battery working.

You were slumped on the bed still, itching to get out of the clothes you had on.

'Too much. Hearing Fatigued?' Matt said working at the buttons of his shirt to start getting undressed. 'Help you?'

You signed, with a verbal yes, sitting up for Matt to start stripping you.

'Movie? Couch?'

"Yes, and yes."

He hung up both sets of y'alls clothes and grabbed two of his oversized shirts, one for him and one for you.

Matt reached a hand out for you to grab, helping move you to the couch. He grabbed the remote, scrolling through options.

'New or usual?'

Matt had messed with the TV settings so the sound was audio descriptions of each scene, and the text was captions for you to read.

"Usual."

Nights like this felt simple, even with all the complications. Matt would sign, you would speak. It was nice. It felt like being safe.

He sorted through your favorite movies in his head, eventually spelling out a few names. 'Crimson Peak? Shrek? Train to Busan?'

"Those are silly options."

'American Psycho?'

"That sounds good to me."

'Start?'

"Mmhm."

Matt hit the speak button on the remote, pulling up the movie and starting it with ease.

You leaned into his body, cuddling into his side, looking up at his face.

"I love you."

'Love you.'

[pokemoncaretips]

PSA from the Alolan rangers

This year, due to unusual cosmic activity, worm holes are going to be frequent, and this corresponds to a predicted rise in ultra beast sightings. The rangers have released information on how to keep yourself safe during the next 8 months until the wormholes die down:

Travel in groups and keep alert. We recommend keeping your pokemon out of their balls if feasible.

Familiarize yourself with the cries of ultrabeasts. [A link to a government website is attached with a soundbank of recorded ultrabeast noises]

If you are deaf or HOH, all service pokemon trained in Alola recently are trained to recognize these sounds, but if you have an older service pokemon or are from out of the region, the Deaf Society of Alola will be happy to loan you a trained pokemon for the duration.

Download the ranger alert app for your rotom dex or rotom phone in case of an encounter or sighting. Remember, it is a $5000 fine for making a false report.

Avoid unnecessary travel during this event. If you are someone who works with wormholes or has travelled through or been very close to one, we recommend leaving the region for the duration if you can or increasing security if this is not an option, due to the likelihood of ultrabeasts approaching you.

Ultrabeasts are frequently startled and confused by their sudden arrival here, and are much more likely to be aggressive or reactive. Do not engage ANY ultrabeast. Avoid eye contact and remain still.

Avoid picking up litter with your bare hands, particularly paper litter that seems folded.

Keep an eye on the skies.

If you find dead wild pokemon that have been drained of fluids, vacate the area immediately.

If you feel dizzy, confused or sleepy, leave the area. Pheremosa may be present. Wear a good quality n-95 mask to provide decent protection.

Avoid power plants if you aren't an employee there. If you are an employee, pay close attention to safety briefings and wear all provided PPE. If your employer is not providing PPE, anonymous reports can be made to the authorities here [A link is provided]

Avoid large forested areas and remain alert for a long, low rumbling noise. Stay away from unexplained wild fires.

Obey all evacuation alerts sent out, and keep a survival kit packed with clean clothes, important documents other necessities. A comprehensive list of essential items can be found at the Alolan governments website.

Avoid coming unto contact with naganadel toxin. This toxin is purple and slightly bioluminescent, with a sharp, bitter smell. It's powerfully adhesive and can quickly cause breathing difficulties. If accidental contact occurs, vinegar has been shown to begin breaking it down. Apply white vinegar to the area and contact emergency services.

Make note of stone walls in your area, and report if new ones appear with no signs of construction workers.

Stay safe and don't be a hero.

[littlemissrbf]

Viktor (Arcane) x Deaf/HOH Reader HCs!

(Kinda Lengthy Author's Note: okay so English is my first language and American Sign Language is my second so I was really excited to write this down. Most of these HC will be based off of some of my experiences and some funny stories. All ASL will be represented by all caps & use ASL grammar. Enjoy!)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊

Viktor's favorite signs are "TURTLE" and "TORTISE" simply because of how cute they look. (seriously, search them up) "ah I see, the thumbs represent the flippers... oh the sign is the turtle swimming how cute!"

He began learning ASL shortly after meeting you, wanting to be able to communicate efficiently with you by learning sign (let's be real, his chicken-scratch writing made communicating with notes a bit difficult)

Picked up fingerspelling ridiculously fast, this dude was fingerspelling the alphabet by memory within days.

His first full sentence to you was "MY NAME VIKTOR NICE MEET YOU". The second he finished signing he gave a small smile of satisfaction (it doesn't matter that you had already met, this was the cutest thing)

He was blessed with a very expressive face, so facial expressions in ASL came very naturally to him.

Viktor learned to use non-auditory signals to get your attention, knocking on the table when you're studying together, flicking the lights on and off a few times, and waving if he was far away.

Whenever he taps your shoulder to get your attention, he does it so gently and his hand always hovers for just a split second (his main love language is physical touch fight me.)

Constantly asks you to teach him new signs and slang, he's currently obsessed with responding to your rants with his recently updated vocabulary of slang including "TRUE-BIZ" and "THAT"

Despite being able to fingerspell well and efficiently, Viktor cannot read someone else's fingerspelling to save his life. You reassure him that he's still learning and this sort of thing takes practice, to which he insists that you test him on fingerspelling everyday so that he can improve.

Constantly signs "ILY"

I mean constantly. He waves goodbye with the "ILY" handshape.

He made the mistake of asking you for a sign name and now he's stuck with "STUPID" (which is awfully convenient, it even has the V handshape in it).

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊

BONUS HEADCANNON: You showed Jayce Viktor's 'sign name' knowing that this idiot would probably use it all day genuinely thinking that it was how Viktor's name was signed. The following day, Jayce asked you for a name sign and you happily gave him one... fast-forward to Jayce excitedly showing his new name sign to Viktor.

"Okay so it's an "J" handshape, well also an "I" handshape, and it goes at your forehead to show that I'm smart!"

"Ah I see. I like it, it suits you."

(Viktor didn't have the heart to tell Jayce that the sign name he'd been referring to himself all day as was actually another sign for the word "IDIOT")

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚

(Another Author's Note: I actually had a lot of fun writing this, some context about sign names is that you can only be given a sign name by a Deaf/HOH person so it's an honor to be given one. That being said, if you pester your Deaf friends for a sign name you will probably end up like Viktor and Jayce.)

[thesummerstorms]

I can acknowledge that the text SAYS that Annabeth Chase worked out her problems with her dad, that her stepmom seemed "nice", and that her "resentment" is described as seemingly unimportant in Blood of Olympus. I can acknowledge the text SAYS that Annabeth's family problems are resolved.

However. That does not mean that I actually buy it. If RR wanted me to accept that outcome, he should have done the actual work of proving it.

Yes we have the scene with the plane and Mrs. Chase telling Percy that Annabeth has a home.

But those two scenes in TTC don't actually work as a source of a resolution to that plot thread because they don't address the root of the problem- Annabeth being hurt by Frederick's neglect and her step-mother 's blame/callousness.

Even if they ARE trying to do better now (which to honest, feels like a cop out to me, almost as if RR just decided he no longer wanted to write that thread and cut it off quickly) the problem lies in what already happened in the past and how badly Annabeth was hurt by it.

She could have died so, so easily, and even if you want to argue perfect intent for the Chase adults (which I don't) she was emotionally fucked up by what happened for years. This has already happened.

But there's not even a hint of an apology or actual reflection on what caused those events and how things need to be moving forward. It's just assumed that TTC automatically fixes everything.

And yes, I actively have a post going around about how an author has to pick and choose their narratives and what they want to focus on for what characters.

But I would argue that RR already chose to make that plot line an important part of the plot- given how it drives Annabeth's motivations and actionals on an emotional level for pretty much all of TTC- it's just that he handled it badly.

If it was going to be addressed, especially if it was going to be "fixed", then we needed more to convince us that Annabeth had reason to trust her parents again. And again, for me one plane scene that doesn't go into what Annabeth has already experienced doesn't work for me personally.

Especially when you look at things like how Annabeth was still living in boarding schools full time, her description of the night she ran away in HOH, her persistent fear of abandonment.

And before anyone brings it up, I do actually have some sympathy for Frederick Chase. I personally am deeply adverse to the idea of having children of my own, so putting myself in his shoes of having been given a whole infant I never wanted and didn't know was a possibility, freaks me out a little too!

BUT. That doesn't change the fact that he had a responsibility as an adult-

to either choose to raise Annabeth fully as his child and accept the responsibility that entailed

OR

to find someone who could take care of her the way she deserved if he was not emotionally or mentally able to fulfill those needs.

I'm not saying any of it would be easy, but he did in fact have a basic obligation to make sure Annabeth was receiving care from SOMEONE. That's basic decency as an adult with some form of power over a child even if he DIDN'T want to be her father.

But his refusal to actually commit to either path just did MORE damage in the long run.

And he's free to try and make amends, I guess. People can change.

But I just don't feel there's enough to show that he really has long term, much less to give ANNABETH reason to believe he has.

[ukranianacearo]

You asked for Kid requests? Oh hoh hoh, well I've /got/ Kid requests.

Okay, so an idea I have is Kid being with a girl who's kinda like the tichular character from Komi Can't Communicate. They come off as cool and collected, mysterious even. But they're actually just a socially anxious weeb/nerd who doesn't know how to people. She's always the kid in the back of class everyone is too afraid to talk to because she's either thought of as scary or too cool to talk to. And of course, since no one is too cool for Kid, he'd talk to her, finds out she's a loveable dorkfish like him, and the rest is history.

Any pronouns are okay but she/her or they/them is preferred!

-𓆣

The two of us could reach the stars

Komi-san!Fem!Reader

Tw: social anxiety maybe?

Pairing: Death, the kid x fem!Reader

Synopsis: Since Kid's first day at the Academy, he heard a lot of whispers and rumors about a certain classmate that always sits at the back of the class.

Genre: I guess fluff or something like that

Author's note: YAYAYAYAY anon𓆣 I love you sm, you're my savior. Also, I never watched Komi-sama can't communicate so the fact that you explained her character more in depth helps me a lot😭 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like this and there may be mistakes, bc English isn't my first language and I didn't proofread this

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

- "That girl is so weird, she never talks and always avoids people. What is it with her?" - BlackStar complained loudly as he and the group were going to the class.

- "You shouldn't talk like that about her, BlackStar..." - Tsubaki tried to calm down the blue haired boy. She was obviously curious about the girl too, but the girl herself didn't seem very interested in them.

- "Who are you talking about anyway?" - Kid, who was still on his first week at the Academy, asked.

- "Oh, that's right, you probably don't know, Kid, since you're still new. There's a girl in our class that's always in the back and she almost never talks. She's very smart tho, always making it to the top 3." - Explained patiently Maka.

- "She remind me of a ghost. Kinda mysterious, but also almost non existent at some point." - Added in a murmur Soul.

- "Hah, she must have that from me. My shining greatness is so illuminating that she decided to try and be like me. Not like she will ever reach my greatness." - Commented BlackStar again. Kid didn't take that seriously, for BlackStar is just bubbling non sense. They finally arrived to the classroom everyone was going to their seats.

- "Look, Kid, she's that girl sitting at the back." - Maka said as she looked at the mysterious girl. Kid followed her gaze and saw a girl their age. He must admit, she did have a mystical vibe around her. Maybe he should talk to her, but how?

...

- "Liz, Patty, go without me, I have something else I have to do." - Said Kid as he left the classroom.

- "Oh? Alright, take care." - Liz answered. As Kid walked out of the classroom, he could see the one who he wanted to talk to. He picked up the pace, since he could see that the person was getting further away. The crowd of individuals that has formed in the halls didn't help.

As he got to an empty hall, he finally could see the enigmatic girl. He hurried his footing and soon enough, he caught up to her.

- "Hey." - He called out to her and as if pulled out of a trance, the girl slowly turned around to see Kid behind her. Her upper body was slightly leaned away from Kid. She didn't answer Kid, even if she wanted, he soon started talking again. - "You're that girl who got everyone and their grandmas intrigued, right? I'm Death, the Kid, son of Lord Death. You actually are quite interesting and symmetrical, so what do you say to talking sometimes?" - The girl expression didn't change much, at least to Kid's impression. She shook her head slightly in affirmation, her school bag still in her hands by the handles. - "Alright, then it's settled. Now, I have matters to attend so farewell for the time being. I'll see you around." - with that, Kid went back the same way he came as the girl just stood there looking at him as he was leaving.

...

- "Today she will finally hear it from THE BlackStar!" - as usual, BlackStar was causing quite the scene when Kid saw him and Tsubaki pass by in the hallway. There weren't that many people around, so the sound of BlackStar's voice was echoing throughout the tall walls of the halls. Suddenly, Kid saw the girl who BlackStar was complaining about coming right at BlackStar and Tsubaki from the other hall. The girl clearly heard BlackStar's shouting, it would be surprising if she didn't thought Kid, so to apparently avoid the blue-haired boy, she quickly skipped to the next hall while BlackStar turned away and started walking back first, for some reason. This scene of the girl caused the wheels in Kid's mind to turn. Was she avoiding the loud boy because she knew it was about her or just because he was loud? He had to think it over.

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

This short af and I'm sorry it's not as good as it could have been😔 I didn't know what I should do later on, but I hope you all like it (Black Star being the best wingman ever❓❗) If someone asks for part 2 I might do it and incline more in the romantic theme, I guess, I really don't know sorry

anyway, bye bye xoxo

[ghoul-bonez]

~Your Voice is Important~

(Tsireya x Fem! Deaf! Metkayina! Reader)

Summary: Ever since you were young you had been different, which made you a target for many, but your differences didn’t drive Tsireya off like it did most people, nor did it make her like you any less.

Word count: 4.1k

Author’s note: First fic back from vacation yayyy!!! I’m ngl I’m very nervous to post this for some reason? Someone I’m very close with is deaf and I got the idea for this fic from her :)… I feel like every Deaf! Reader fic has (Y/n) as completely deaf, but in reality many deaf or HOH people can hear to some amount, but not enough to understand people. Sign language is “bold and italics” and talking is just normal text.

~Masterlist~

Your Voice is Important

You loved talking, always had, and you were loud. When you were born you came into the world wailing, louder than anyone had ever heard before, then when you were old enough your parents recall you babbling all the time. You were never quiet, and never would be if you could control it.

You loved talking about anything and everything, from how your day had been, to what your favorite animal was, it was an ilu in case anyone was wondering. You loved when your friends and family would include you, or try to include you, in conversations.

The problem was nobody outside of your circle of friends and family wanted to talk with you, or more so they didn’t want to listen to you. You knew you sounded weird to others, but you sounded normal to yourself. You didn’t know any other way, having always been like this. So you stayed quiet, not talking, and instead listening, or listening as well as you could.

Even with your constant talking and sound making your parents had a gut feeling something was wrong, and it was. They thought it was odd that their soothing words and gentle songs wouldn’t lull you to sleep, but they attributed it to you being a rough child, always crying and throwing fits when you didn’t get what you wanted. However, that quickly changed as you wouldn’t respond when they called you.

When they determined something was wrong, very wrong, they took you to Ronal, the Tsahík, to make sure you were okay, and not on death’s door. Over the course of the next few weeks she kept you under her care to try different remedies to see what would help, but in the end nothing did, and she declared you deaf.

You weren’t completely deaf, but you couldn’t hear very well, or much at all. You had been able to hear more as a child, but still not enough for your parents to call you and you respond. They would have to yell at you, and make sure they had your attention before speaking. Unfortunately there was nothing you could do to stop your hearing from getting worse as you got older.

Although your hearing was nearly gone now, you could remember what it was like to talk, and although you couldn’t hear anything very well anymore, including yourself as you talked, you still held onto your voice. You would always hold onto your voice.

Even without being able to understand people you could still hear the background noise of daily life. You could hear the waves crash against the shore, and the sea birds when they called loud enough, but it was very quiet, muffled. You could hear yourself enough to talk, but because of your hearing it came out loud, but slurred, slow, and unsure.

You could even hear the sounds of people talking, but it was so quiet and muffled that you couldn’t understand them. You had gotten good at lip reading, and could fluently understand and speak sign language, as most of the Metkayina people could, so instead of speaking with your voice, you usually just used sign whenever you communicated with others, not wanting to scare them away.

You had a couple favorite sounds, an ilu’s clicks as you held it close enough to hear. They knew to be extra loud with you too, understanding your needs. You loved the patter of rain on your marui’s roof when a storm was raging outside, you couldn’t hear each individual drop, but it was a comforting background buzz. Your favorite sound, however, was your best friend’s voice.

Tsireya’s voice.

Even though you couldn’t understand what she was saying, you loved everything about it. You didn’t need to know what she was saying to hear that her voice was smooth, and calming, her tone soft and caring. It was so special.

She was so special.

You had known her since you were very young, meeting while her mother held you hostage to test you and try to cure your ailment. She had been there to help the entire way, mostly to comfort you, and it was nice to have someone your age to play with.

You conversed as well as possible, and she was always patient with you, and didn’t mind your loud outbursts. She actually quite enjoyed your company when many kids your age did not because of your tendency to not listen, although it wasn’t on purpose.

You knew as much as you thought Tsireya was special that she thought you were as well. She thought you were so special, and unique, in so many ways. She loved your voice. To some it was frustrating, not completely sure what you were saying, but she had been around you so much, listened to you so much, that she could understand you, like only a few could do.

One day as you had been sitting on the beach alone, sulking, Tsireya had approached you. She was upset that you were upset, so she took it upon herself to cheer you up. She snuck up on you and tackled you to the ground with a huff, laughing like an excited child as you struggled against her, pushing her off of you and turning to her with an angry blush on your cheeks.

You knew who it was immediately, not even having to see her to know who it was, this tackle was friendly, not meant to cause harm like others had done to you before, “Tsireya!” You shrieked, offended, mouth open and eyes wide.

“(Y/n)!” She shouted back, loud enough for you to hear, before devolving into a pile of giggles. You couldn’t hear them as well now as in the past, but the sound you remembered played through your head on loop as a wide smile was etched onto her face.

You scoffed, “What was that?” You pretended like her smile and visible joy wasn’t melting you from the inside out, like you were being held over a fire, or one had been set in your heart.

She turned serious now, “You were upset. I wanted to help you.” She frowned, you hated it, and wanted it off her face as soon as possible, but before you could say anything she asked, “Why were you upset?”

You turned away from her, you didn’t want her to see your frown, didn’t want to make her more upset, “I do not want to talk about it.”

You couldn’t look away from her for long, turning back to her and watching her sign, “You are signing, not talking. Is it about your voice?”

You sighed deeply, she knew how to read you, she could see into you, see how you were feeling at all times,“You always seem to know what’s wrong.”

She smiled, small and sad, “I know how you work.” She admitted.

You couldn’t help but to agree, “I know.” You paused for a second, taking a deep breath, “Trust me I know.”

She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly to reassure you, before signing again, “So tell me, what is wrong?”

You looked away again, eyes drifting to someone and her awful friends a ways away, “It is nothing, just Epxtä being a jerk.”

When you turned back to her you could see Tsireya hum, although you couldn’t hear it. She seemed to think for a second before responding, “I know how she can be. What did she say?”

Your frown deepened, thinking about what she had told you, how she had insulted you, “She told me I should just keep quiet. That nobody wants to hear my horrible voice.”

Tsireya’s frown turned into a sad smile, but was quickly overtaken by a happier one, “Well, I love your voice. I love the way you speak.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to get annoyed, you valued Tsireya’s opinion, but just one amongst the sea of many wasn’t enough, “Well I do not.”

She held your face in her hands gently, only letting go to sign, before placing them back where they were before, “Why not?”

“Nobody else likes it, why should I?” You used your voice this time, trying to prove your point by speaking.

“Oh, so I am nobody now?” She smirked, she knew she would get her point across soon enough with this argument.

You hummed, “No. Definitely not.”

She then sighed, smiling, “(Y/n), you are so special. Eywa has big plans for you. I can tell.”

You would consider Tsireya your best friend, but at the same time she was so much more. She had always meant too much to you. From the moment you had met her you had attached yourself to her, and she had clung onto you just the same.

She was your translator at times, helping you communicate smoother and more efficiently. Some of the children of the clan would come to you for sign language lessons, but because they weren't fluent without your sense of hearing you struggled to understand what they were trying to tell you, but Tsireya was always there to help.

She was your biggest supporter, cheering you on from the sidelines, even when you both knew you would fail. Even when you did fail she would always hype you up, congratulating you for even trying in the first place. She would shower you in affection whether you succeeded or not. She was proud of you whether you succeeded or not.

She was your rock, always telling you that you will get through whatever tough times you’re going through. When other kids would bully you she would stand up for you, even using her mother being the Tsahík as a threat to get the bullies to stay away from you.

She was your girlfriend, your future mate when you both passed your rites. Right now you were courting, giving small gifts, and showing affection as you pleased, but someday you will be more. Someday you will get to feel the bond between mates, to truly see into each other, to feel each other, and to be one.

She was your everything.

Tsireya wasn’t just a good girlfriend. She wouldn’t settle for good, she had to be great, and so she did her best to do so. She always made sure you had what you wanted, made sure you weren’t bothered by others, made sure you were happy. You were always happy with her.

You weren’t sure about being with her at first. You were scared that if you admitted your feelings she would hate you. Scared that she would leave you, but the opposite happened when you broke one night.

You had been sitting with Tsireya, you silently weaving and Tsireya quietly singing to create background noise for you as she weaved, and as your hands moved on their own, used to the motions of weaving, your brain was working at a million miles an hour.

Finally you spoke, quiet, almost unable to hear yourself, “I do not know what to do.”

Tsireya stopped singing, taking in what you had said, dropping the net she had been working on repairing, she moved her hands gracefully, “About?”

You sighed, choosing your words carefully as you put them together in your head before speaking them into the world, “I have these feelings that I am not sure what to do with. I like feeling them, but also they scare me.”

You saw Tsireya gasp, “You are in love, aren’t you!?” Her stomach dropped. What if it wasn't her, but she kept the mood up, smiling the whole time. Even if it wasn’t her she would be happy for you. She would make herself be happy for you.

Shock covered your face, how had she cracked your carefully coded words so easily, but you knew she always knew how you were feeling, “No! It is not that.” You tried to deny her.

“It totally is!” Tsireya’s face was still blessed with a smile before something overcame her and she paused, a frown and dramatic groan exiting her mouth, “I am going to owe Ao’nung chores now.”

You gasped playfully, “What? You betted on me?” You knew how competitive Ao’nung could be sometimes, and Tsireya was usually persuaded into joining his stupid little bets.

She groaned again, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, and he was right…” She paused again, “but you have to tell me who it is!”

You frowned, shaking your head in defiance, “No way.”

She smirked, “You have to!” She knew you couldn’t deny her, but you would do your best, just this once, to tell her no.

“I literally do not.” you rebutted, shoving at her arm as she inched closer to you.

Then she had an idea, “I will tell you my crush if you tell me yours.”

You just rolled your eyes, “Tsireya, I know you do not have a crush on anyone. You are just trying to bribe me.” What you didn’t know was that she really did, and it was imperative for you to know.

She looked away, thinking, and you could see the frustration on her face as she tried to think of something, anything, but in the end she just asked, “Well tell me anyway?”

“I…” You sighed deeply, at a loss of words, “I can not.”

“Well I will tell you mine first then.” She took a deep breath, a calming breath, “(Y/n). It is you, it has always been you. I love you. I see you. I am not sure who’s name you are about to say, but I hope it is mine. I do not know what I will do if it is not mine.”

You were taken aback completely. You had truly believed she didn’t have a crush, and never in a million years would you be able to guess that you were her crush, being convinced your crush was strictly one way. You were convinced you were doomed to live out the rest of your life watching Tsireya settle down with anyone other than you, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

You gasped and barreled into her, arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly. You spoke quietly next to her ear, trying your best to control your volume, “Tsireya, I see you. How could I not? You do not need to worry about who’s name I will say because it is yours. It will always be yours.”

She squeezed you back, nuzzling her face against yours before pulling away to sign, “(Y/n), will you be mine?”

You smiled wider than ever before, it reached your eyes as they held love and adoration for her, “Forever and always, I will be yours.”

As you thought about her you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of happiness coat your soul, but soon you were back to feeling down, feeling that way all day after one of the girls your age, Epxtä, had told you to shut up because as she had said, “You sound like a freak.”

You hadn’t even been talking to her, instead trying to converse with Ao’nung who was just as patient with you as Tsireya was, understanding her love for you after many late night talks about her feelings shared between the brother sister duo.

You had stopped him in his tracks, waving at him, and beckoning him over. Once he was close enough you asked, “I need to find Tsireya, do you know where she is?”

He thought for a second, his face scrunched up in concentration, but he came up with nothing, signing, “I do not. Try our marui, or the Tsahík tent.” He had signed back.

You smiled at him, appreciating his help, “Okay. Thank-”

Before you could finish your sentence Epxtä got up from her group of friends sitting nearby, stalking over to you and signing right in front of your face, “Oh my Eywa, will you shut up. You sound like a freak. I don’t understand how anyone could stand to listen to you.”

You felt your heart speed up, feeling an embarrassed blush cover your face. You just signed, “Sorry.” before backing off.

You saw Ao’nung’s jaw dropped, fury on his face as he said something back to the girl that you couldn’t understand. You knew he would defend you, because Tsireya would, and you were grateful his negative energy was focused on other people, and not you. He was a nasty person to most, to people he didn’t understand, or people he decided he didn’t like. Thankfully he liked you, but you still didn’t want to be there any more.

You picked a direction and sped off, trying to get as far away from the fight you knew was about to ensue as possible. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, but it ended up with you in a cove on the far end of the beach. You sat down, frustration and sadness flowing through you, and you couldn’t help it as tears leaked from your eyes, falling down your cheeks.

As you sat there, sniffling you held your eyes closed tight, focusing on the sounds of the waves crashing instead of the storm of feelings swirling inside. Anger and sadness crawled throughout your insides, squeezing your heart and clawing at your stomach.

Once you felt yourself calm a little a new noise rang out throughout the space, loud enough for you to hear what it was, but not understand it. It was a person, a voice, most likely calling for you, but you didn’t give them any of your attention, afraid it was Epxtä. Instead of responding you kept your head low, ears pinned back, as tears threatened to fall again.

You heard the voice again, this time much closer, and you feared for what was to come, but instead of what you imagined Epxtä’s insults would sound like and how her hits would feel when she landed them, you felt a hand reach out to your shoulder. Gently the person’s thumb rubbed circled on your shoulder, calming you.

You felt the sand under you shift as the person sat next to you, and when their head hit your shoulder you knew it could only be one person.

Tsireya.

It was always Tsireya.

Your eyes cracked open and the tears that had gathered on your lashes fell down your face, you couldn’t help yourself as you reached towards your face to wipe them away, but her hands beat you to it. She gently held your face, caressing your cheeks with her thumbs as she wiped away your tears. She looked concerned, but that was understandable with the way she found you.

You sniffled again, but a small smile cracked on your face, “Hello.” You greeted as quietly as possible.

She still looked concerned, but smiled back, her hands retracting from your face, signing, “Hello, beautiful.”

You just sighed, learning closer towards her and rubbing your cheeks together. You closed your eyes focusing on the feeling of your skin on hers. You didn’t want to focus on anything else, including your still broken feelings.

Tsireya didn’t allow you the peace of not focusing on that, instead pulling away and signing again, “What is wrong?” She asked.

Of course she wanted to talk about it, and you knew that even though you didn’t want to talk about it she would make you. She knew you always came out feeling better after discussing what was wrong, but it still didn’t make you want to talk about it.

“It is nothing.” You lied, or tried to, putting on a false smile. It wasn’t very convincing to Tsireya, or yourself, but you hoped it would hold off the conversation for a little longer.

She could see through your front, she always could, and she frowned before retorting, “I can tell it is not nothing. If you do not tell me what is wrong I can not help.”

Your fake smile fell, and you rolled your eyes, “I am telling you, it is nothing.”

“Okay…” She seemed to drop it, instead of addressing it again she said, “Well how was your day?”

“It was okay.” You only half lied, because it had been okay up until Epxtä had butted in on you and Ao’nung’s conversation.

Tsireya nodded as you could see her hum, lips pressed together, “Well, mine was not. I had a horrible day.”

You were surprised, “Oh.” You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t taken into account how she might be feeling right now.

“Ao’nung kept stealing my breakfast this morning, so I barely had anything to eat. Then my mom would not let me slip away for even a second, making me constantly attend to the fishers who had gotten scraped up on a hunt earlier this morning. I have not had a break.” She ranted on and on.

You felt bad, feeling the need to apologize for something you had no part in, “I’m sorry…”

She nodded at you simply before continuing, “I am telling you this because I want to show you that you can be open with me. You can tell me what is wrong, and I can help you.”

You sighed, you weren’t going to get out of this one, so you admitted, “It was Epxtä.”

Tsireya rolled her eyes, exasperated, “Oh my Eywa, it is always her.”

You giggled Tsireya’s sass, thinking about it Epxtä was the main pain in your ass, “That is true.”

Suddenly she got more serious, a small frown on her face as she asked, “Well, what happened?”

You rolled your eyes this time, frustration visible on your face and voice, “Just the usual. Nobody wants to hear me, I should just shut up.”

She scoffed, “You really need to stop listening to her, she is so stupid. Next time she says something mean get me and I will fix it.” She winked at you, a not so innocent smile on her face. You knew it would be less her fixing it, and more Ao’nung fixing it.

“I know you would, but sometimes I can not help but listen to her. If she feels this way clearly other people must too.” You started tearing up again, thoughts spinning in your head as you tried to voice what you were feeling, “I do not understand why I have to be this way. They say Eywa does not make mistakes, but I can not help but feel I should not be this way.”

She sighed, a gentle smile on her face, “My love, Eywa has made you this way for a reason. She has a plan for everyone. Someday you will understand that, truly, and when you are at peace with that, I will be too.”

You frowned, admitting, “I want to be at peace.”

“You want to be at peace for me,” She corrected you quickly, “not for you.”

You released a particularly harsh breath, frustrated, “That is true.”

Tsireya took a deep breath, sadness written on her face as her hands shook through what she was saying, “(Y/n), your voice is important. You may not like how you sound, and others may judge you because of it too, but your voice is important. You should use it more often…”

“I will do my best.” You promised, and you meant it. You couldn’t promise you would be able to speak up for yourself, you couldn’t promise you would always be able to use your voice, you couldn’t promise you would be able to love your voice, but you would try your best to. Not just for Tsireya, but for yourself as well.

She sighed, possibly content with your promise to try your best, possibly frustrated by your word choice, “I love you, and you will love yourself eventually, I promise.” She promised this time.

You held her face carefully in your hands, gently like if you held on too tight she would break, or you would break. The atmosphere was delicate, but so full of love, “I love you too. More than anything.”

You meant what you said, you loved her more than anything, or anyone else, and you were so grateful to have her in your life. You were grateful she chose you over anyone else.

She chose the one that can’t talk right, the one who doesn’t pay attention, the one who nobody else wanted, she chose the one who was so different from anyone else. She chose the deaf one. She chose the deaf one that nobody else wanted.

She chose you.

She chose you, and because of that you figured you should love your voice because if someone so perfect could love you maybe you could love yourself.

Word Bank:

Ilu (Metkayina animal transportation)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi Ghost. I read your Robin fic, and I'm wondering if you can recommend other "gay" stories. It's pride, and I'm just not seeing a whole lot out there.

to be completely honest, the only actual queer stories i’ve read in the fandom have been centered around steddie.

because, like you’ve said, there’s not a whole lot out there outside of that.

i’m going to offer up my steddie recs (not steddie x reader but solely steddie, although there are some magnificent steddie x reader fics that include lovely feelings brewing between the boys!!), but also… followers, help some friends out? reblog with some of your favorite queer fics? pretty please?

i would recommend (and most are ao3 recs so be prepared for heavy emotional themes and canon haha):

sticky notes (has been discontinued, but also includes HOH!steve)

heartbreak hotline (includes smut/phone sex)

off the beaten path (challenging the headcanon of eddie knowing he’s gay and steve being clueless - steve realizes he’s gay before eddie does)

keep it steady, eddie (pretty popular amongst steddie fans so you might have heard of it already! includes robin x vickie)

i like to see you in the morning light (fix it fic for canon, where steve was eddie’s alibi when he survives 😌)

and of course, one of my ultimate steddie fic recs and one of my ultimate fic recs for this entire fandom, the lathe. this is the time loop fic for the fandom. i won’t be taking criticism. it made me bawl like a baby and was one of the first major fics i ever read in the fandom. i’ll never sing high enough praise for it. the twists in it are fucking remarkable. it’s just. it’s an experience. also, very popular, and for very good reason.

i would like to note that i haven’t read most of these in a hot minute, so my brief recounts aren’t very helpful probably. also, i know there’s a few notable authors amongst steddie readers, but i only included fics i’ve personally read.

as i said, i’m begging for anyone who sees this who has more queer fic recs to add to do so! i know there’s several in the fandom currently compiling lists as well as there’s been a few robin fics coming across my dash — i just haven’t read them yet! most of my queer fics i’ve gathered from ao3 as you can see lol. in ao3 we trust in this household 🫡