#like well ofc i would kill for him. ofc just constant like mhm go off king slay fire etc. god tier character cherished forever thanks

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

[dexondefense]

you know that percyjacksonau ficlet you wrote about dex and nursey i need More

This is based of the my Percy Jackson AU and is technically a part 2 to This Post.

Possible warning for: missing limbs. talk of battle. an OFC. Also I apologize that I don’t remember anything about the Camp Half Blood infirmary. This story was originally based on a prompt that was sent to me but it got away from me quickly and this part ended up as something else.

Read it on AO3.

The thing about Dex was that he was the worst.

It was a fact that Nursey reiterated to Chowder for the fourth time in under ten minutes. Chowder informed him of this fact.

“It needed to be said four times,” Nursey told him, shrugging one shoulder in a terrible attempt at fake nonchalance. It was difficult to act like you were indifferent to something while in the middle of a ten minute long rant about it.

“Mhm,” Chowder agreed passively, the hum in his tone and the wandering of his eyes letting Nursey know clear enough that he was losing his friend’s interest.  

Nursey rolled his shoulders again, like he could dislodge his thoughts about Dex as easy as that. “It’s just, he’s such a-” Nursey broke off,making a vague gesture with his hands.

“A what?” Chowder pressed. He sat down on the edge of the dock, unconcerned with whether Nursey chose to continue walking on not. He let one foot dangle over the edge, his bare toes just grazing the top. Chowder was the only one brave enough to try that kind of move with the threat of playful nymphs in the water.

“A goon,” Nursey decided after a moment, keeping himself a few safe feet back from the water and crossing his arms.

Chowder cast an unimpressed look over one shoulder. In the water a pale hand tipped in sharp green fingernails slowly broke the surface. Chowder splashed at the hand with his foot without looking. The hand retreated. “A goon?” He repeated.

“Yes, a goon.” The third time it was said out loud had Nursey feeling a bit self conscious about his word choice, but it was too late to back down now. 

He sat down in the center of the dock, giving himself a few feet on either side from the water. “I mean, I thought my siblings were bad, but he’s single-handedly trying to redefine the image of bunk nine all by himself.”

“They do make, like, 90% of the weapons the camp uses.”

“Yeah I know, but-”

“And given that we are all technically being trained for battle literally every day that we’re here, I think Dex is kind of in a wide group of people who could be classified as goons. Don’t you think?”

Nursey opened his mouth to respond, only to realize a second too late that Chowder was no longer addressing him, but rather something lurking just under the surface of the water. Whatever it was shifted, the water above it rippling with the movement and Chowder seemed pleased with the response. He shot a glance back at Nursey.

“Dex doesn’t even really fight.”

“Being a warrior isn’t the same thing as being a goon!” Nursey defended. The word was definitely starting to lose it’s meaning. “And that’s the thing, he almost never even fights, and yet he acts like he’s this big badass. Like what crawled up his ass and died? Or what legend of Hephaestus has him so convinced he’s the gods’ gift to earth?”

Chowder pursed his lips at the water and said nothing.

Nursey sighed, a heavy grumbling sort of sound that didn’t so much make him feel better as much as it just made him feel like a petulant child. He could hear himself harping on the subject that really shouldn’t have lasted more than a passing comment, and he couldn’t find it in himself to come up with a reasonable explanation for why. Dex’s constant annoyance and indifference towards him just…struck a nerve.

“Whatever, he can be as annoying as he wants. I don’t care. I’m over it.” Nursey made an attempt to look relaxed, leaning his weight back on the heels of his hands as he stretched out on the dock. He fumbled only for a second when his hand slipped on a smooth piece of board and righted himself before Chowder could turn back around.

“He’s over it,” Chowder stage whispered to the water, just loud enough that Nursey knew he was meant to hear. Just out of Nursey’s eye-line there was a splash and a wet murmuring sound that Nursey had grown to recognize as a nymph laughter just below the surface.

Nursey scowled, knowing better than to try to retaliate against a nymph, or Chowder for that matter, and rose to his feet. He brushed imaginary dirt off his pants. “Whatever. I’ve gotta meet Ransom for archery lessons anyway.”

“That’s not for another hour,” Chowder reminded Nursey, but made no move to try to stop him.

“Well…maybe he’ll need help in the infirmary in the meantime!”

“He doesn’t want your help!” Chowder called out as Nursey stalked off the dock and back towards camp. “Remember last time?”

“Goodbye Chowder!”

“Bye Nursey!”

Nursey had made it almost up the bank, and he thought he might have imagined Chowder’s voice behind him, soft and slightly pained as he spoke to the nymph again. “Those two are going to kill me.”

He chose to ignore it.

“Ransom!”

The healer in question glanced up from a vile of sparkly yellow liquid, raising a practiced eyebrow at Nursey’s intrusion. “Hey man, what are you doing here?”

“Archery lesson, remember?” Nursey narrowed his eyes at a open medical cabinet, bristling only slightly when Ransom slammed the cabinet shut before he could get a better view.

“That’s not until 3, and you know how I feel about you and Holster being in here when you’re not injured.”

“I could stub my toe if you want.”

“I do not want that,” Ransom assured him, keeping a wary eye on him as he returned the sparkling vile to a different cabinet. This one had a heavy lock hanging from the open door, and inside there was a plethora of other colored liquids, all looking rather flashy and unsafe for consumption.

“Suit yourself, but I’ve got nothing but free time until 3, so you’re stuck with me.”

Ransom locked the cabinet door and pulled open another drawer, this one over stuffed with pristine white bandages. It seemed like he was taking inventory, but then again Nursey really had no idea what happened in the infirmary and he had no intentions of learning.

“Fine. But don’t knock anything over, and if you see any blood try to sit yourself down before you pass out this time.”

“Ha ha, that was one time.”

“It was two.”

Nursey left Ransom to whatever it was that had him so engrossed in his work, and made his way out into the main infirmary, if only to prove to himself and his healer friend that the sight of blood did not bother a son of Ares thank you very much. If he kept his gaze focused straight down the middle of the aisle and didn’t glance at the beds on either side, it was strictly out of respect for the injured and had nothing to do with the possibility of seeing torn flesh or leaking wounds.

A few of the beds had curtains drawn around them, hiding shifting and groaning forms from his view anyway, and the few occupied beds that remained exposed mostly contained sleeping or just bored looking campers.

“It might be a little uncomfortable in some spots, but you let me know where and I’ll take a look at it.”

“You’re all ready looking at it.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

The voices were coming from the very back of the long cabin, partially obscured by a curtain hanging loose from the bed beside it. He knew both of those voices, and knew turning back was probably better than intruding on whatever this was, but he took a step forward before he could register the decision to turn back, and then it was too late.

Claire spotted him, raising one hand in a wave and offering a watery smile in greeting. Her other hand was curled around the edge of the cot she sat on, fingers digging into the mattress with a punishing grip. Her eyes were red and the splotchy eyeliner rimming her lids only made the tears she was fighting back seem more defined. She sniffled once, straightening her shoulders as she seemed to be fighting some internal battle with herself. Maybe she wasn’t about to cry, maybe she all ready had and this was simply the aftershocks. She brushed long strands of bright blonde hair behind her ears in a nervous tick as she looked back down at the other boy crouched in front of her.

Dex hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on whatever he was doing at the edge of Claire’s bed. It took Nursey longer than he would have liked to force himself to look. He hadn’t seen Claire in almost a month. She was a proud daughter of Aphrodite, vain and fussy and meticulously detailed in everything that she did. It had taken a week before she had even allowed her closest sister to visit her in the infirmity to hand over her makeup so she could make herself ‘presentable to the outside world’.

Your fault.

It wasn’t his fault, Nursey told the voice in his head a forcibly as he could. He had been away visiting his mother when the call had come through for demi-god fighters needed in New Jersey. They hadn’t been able to contact him. Chowder told him it wouldn’t have made a difference. They had won after all, had over powered the giant trying to stake claim to the Jersey Shore, and there had been no fatalities. Injuries were going to happen no matter who was there.

But Nursey knew Claire, was friends with her, and would’ve fought by her side. If he had been there-

“All right, I think that about does it.” Dex stood up, hands on his hips to examine his handiwork. “Now, whenever you’re ready-”

“I’m ready,” Claire told him, her tone leaving no room for further questions.

Children of Aphrodite might be known for their vanity and spite, but Nursey wasn’t sure there was a tougher group in all of camp.

“All right,” Dex’s tone was gentler than Nursey had ever heard it, but there was nothing close to condescension in it. “You should be able to stand, but walking and running and everything else is going to take some practice.”

Claire nodded, her rosy lips set in a determined pout.

Nursey instinctively took a step back as Dex did, his hands by his sides as Dex spread his out wide, offering them to Claire but not grabbing for her.

Claire shifted, and Nursey finally forced himself to glance down. She was wearing her trademark cut off jean shorts, one long smooth leg extending down onto the floor, her sneaker only slightly fumbling for purchase as she tried to heave herself up by herself, and throwing her weight to her other side. Where her other leg should have been there was six inches of tanned skin, which abruptly gave way to a solid metal band, from which the rest of her new artificial leg descended. It looked complicated and heavy, with metal rods disappearing beneath a shiny metal cover that kept them all in place beneath a steel plated knee. It looked more like a weapon than a prosthetic. 

Claire made a valiant effort to stand up on her own, but eventually grabbed Dex’s outstretched hand as she seemed to have trouble getting her new knee to bend on its own.

“Is it supposed to be that tough?”

“It’s new,” Dex told her. “It might just need to be worn in, but if you’re still having trouble later today I can see if something needs to be loosened.”

“Okay.” She shot Nursey a slightly more sincere smile over Dex’s shoulder before she pitched forward into his waiting arms. Nursey shifted forward, unsure how to help.

“Does it hurt?”

“Ah, a little. Back of my thigh I think it’s digging in.”

“I can fix that-”

“It’s not killing me right now, but maybe you can take a look at it later.”

“Really, it’s no problem-”

“Nurse, what do you think? Did Poindexter do a good job making me whole again or what?”

Dex stiffened, whipping his head around almost comically to finally notice Nursey standing not three feet behind him. Nursey gave him a wide grin.

“You were never not whole to begin with, but I think he did an okay job. Even if he’s just doing it try to feel up your legs.”

Claire laughed as Dex gave him a heated glare, his face slowly shifting into a burning red color. Dex opened and closed his mouth once, and then a second time before grinding his teeth and seeming to give up. He turned back to Claire and asked another question about the brace as Nursey frowned. Dex had never been one to not rise to his bait, no matter how small or petty it might have been.

Claire took a step forward, ignoring Dex’s plea for her to wait, her fingers digging hard into his hands as she steadied herself.

“Seriously Nurse, what do you think?” She leaned on her flesh and blood leg to give a small experimental kick with the metal one. “Think anyone’ll notice?” She joked softly, all ready looking a little exhausted as she sagged into Dex’s arms.

“Honestly? I think the next time you kick Chad he’s going to actually lose a ball.”

That got a soft snicker out of even Dex, who tried gently to maneuver Claire back to her bed. Even as unsteady as she was on her legs she managed to evade him, pressing forward so Dex was forced to follow her over to Nursey.

“You look great Claire,” Nursey told her softly, something vulnerable pulling at his heart. They were demi-gods after all, every single one of them here. There wasn’t anything they couldn’t come back from twice as strong. He wanted to tell Claire that, maybe he would have had Dex not been standing less than a foot away and desperately trying and failing to not look like he was trying to not look at him. Maybe Nursey wouldn’t have been able to say it anyway.

Despite his sudden inability to find the correct words, something in the tilt of Claire’s smile made him feel like she knew anyway. She blinked her eyes rapidly as water began to pool in them again. “Yeah well, Dex just had to listen to be cry like a baby for like, an hour, so now it’s someone else’s turn.” Before Nursey could even begin to process the image of brooding and pouty Dex trying to comfort someone else, Claire had latched onto his arm and was shifting herself from one boy to the next.

Dex used his now free arm to gently hold her shoulder steady, leaning in close and casting a furtive glance at Nursey before focusing in on her once more. “If, uh, if you need anything else let me know.” His tone was low, like if he talked quietly enough Nursey might not hear him despite how close they were.

“Right O’,” Claire told him with a salute, trying once again to hold her bottom lip steady as she gripped Nursey’s arm a little tighter. She sniffled again, tossing her hair back as she raised her chin. “Thanks,” she told him softly, and once again Nursey felt very much like he wasn’t supposed to be here. “You…Yeah, thanks.”

Dex nodded, his eyes never leaving the floor as he wiped his palms on his jeans. “Don’t mention it, it’s my job.”

“It’s really not,” Nursey told him, effectively breaking any semblance the two of them had of privacy. He hadn’t meant to say anything, but the words didn’t want to stop. “This is amazing, thank you.”

Dex somehow seemed to turn even more red, his flush reaching down his neck and over his ears. He swallowed heavily, like something was suddenly stuck in his throat and seemed unable to look away from Nursey’s face. He looked -Nursey thought though it didn’t make any sense at all- like he was scared.

Claire frowned, her forehead creasing. “Uh, it’s my leg? What are you thanking him for?”

Nursey tried to shake himself from whatever daze he was in, focusing hard on his friend clinging to his arm. “Because you’re my friend and you would have made me carry you everywhere if you didn’t have a leg of your own.”

Claire scoffed. “You would have been honored to carry me.”

“I would have.”

“Okay, if you’re good for now Claire, just…send someone to get me if you need anything else.”

“You got it. Bye Poindexter.”

“See ya, Claire.”

“Bye, Dex!” Nursey chimed in, feeling suddenly horribly self conscious about the entire encounter as Dex seemed confused to be directly addressed again.

“Uh, see ya Nursey.” Dex frowned at him for a second more, something closer to the angry scowl Nursey was accustom to, but still not quite there. And then he was gone, shoulders hiked high around his ears as he almost raced out of the infirmary.

Claire shook her head, leaning a little more weight on her new leg. “How is it that I spend the entire day with a cute boy, practically in his lap the entire time, and you’re the one who gets him all flustered after five minutes.”

Nursey balked at her meaning, unable to process it for a full minute and tried to deflect. “You’re the only person I know who would use losing a limb as a reason to flirt.”

Claire took another hobbled step, still using Nursey to balance. “I’m an opportunist,” she told him with a grin.

“And what was he doing here in the first place if not trying to help a pretty girl out? Doesn’t really seem like Poindexter’s scene in here.”

“That’s not what Ransom said,” Claire challenged, her breath sounding a bit labored. “Said he’s in here at least twice a week working on repairs and helping where he can.” She shot a glance at Nursey out of the corner of her eye. “How do you not know that?”

Nursey almost raised his arms in defense, stopping himself before he could topple his friend. “I don’t know Poindexter’s life!”

Claire hummed in response, but because she was skeptical of his answer or simply trying to focus on walking, he wasn’t sure. Either way the silence stretched on too long for his liking.

“And he’s not cute,” he grumbled before he could stop himself.

At that, Claire burst into laughter so hard she had to lean against him to stay steady. Whether that was because of his words, or because she had finally gotten her new knee to bend, Nursey was unsure.

He had a feeling it was a combination.

It was then -holding up his battle worn friend as she promised him she would be ready for the next fight, with the image of Dex’s uncertain and flushed face burning into his brain and the soft voice he had used when he had been trying to console Claire ringing in his ears- that Nursey realized he was in trouble.