#Jay Talks to People

[goshdarnitjay]

i hate them so much *spoken affectionately*

The first and third one are absolutely, ridiculously accurate. and you know what? the puppy werewolf kinda makes me sad, because hunters would be hunting it :((( i need to protecc

[jay-aro]

the bond between an aroace person and the fictional character(s) they find hot is a sacred thing

[pastebunny]

114 was so fucking bonkers. what the hell man

[ahalliance]

some notable moments from the qsmp meta talk antoine, étoiles, baghera and co had yesterday, including the stuff i mentioned in this post <3 subtitles in eng, transcript in eng below the cut as well (I apologize for the bad video quality my wifi hates me)

[Video Transcript:

[First clip begins]

Etoiles: I’m— I’m gonna go on QSMP, I think

ZeratoR: (laughs) This really made him want to play Minecraft

Baghera: Ohh, lucky, I miss it

Etoiles: But— you still can’t come back?

Antoine: Well, technically, she could come back, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that

Baghera: (pained) Not as simple as that….

ZeratoR: What are you waiting for?

Etoiles: It’s Lost, it’s Lost

Antoine: Well, her character is dead in game

ZeratoR: Ahhh… but isn’t there a way to— to— a gimmick?

Antoine: No but don’t worry, there’ll probably be a gimmick (laughs) there’ll probably be a gimmick, don’t worry

Baghera: Don’t worry, don’t worry—

Antoine: No, she’s banned from the server! She’s banned from the server, it’s over

ZeratoR: Sucks! How did you die?

Antoine: Nuclear explosion

Baghera: Nuclear— yeah, nuclear explosion

ZeratoR: Ah yeah indeed you’re dead

Etoiles: That should have technically killed everyone—

Antoine: I hadn’t been there for a long time!

Etoiles: Well, I wasn’t there either— oh, well, you (laughs) you—

Antoine: I was elsewhere, I was elsewhere, dude

Etoiles: What a fraud you are (laughs)

ZeratoR: Where were you?

Antoine: I was elsewhere— somewhere else, I can’t say, it’s my lore, dude (laughs)

Etoiles: It’s his lore!

Antoine: I can’t say, dude, it’s my lore, dude

Étoiles: Antoine’s lore—

Baghera: Oh wow, you played around with that? Damn, I didn’t even see

ZeratoR: Basically he was glued to the bomb but well played to him

Etoiles: The lore in question (laughs)

Antoine: The lore in question, dude, it’s mad

Baghera: Take of yourselves guys! This was so cool

[Everyone says goodbye]

[Baghera leaves the call]

ZeratoR: Basically he was glued to the bomb but he found a gimmick

Antoine: Yeahhhh

Etoiles: The lore in question, just being the goat

Antoine: Yeah but the problem is that it’s my lore in every game, dude

Etoiles: (laughs) Oh but it’s really that. Antoine’s lore is being the goat

[Second clip begins]

Etoiles: Something that makes me laugh a bit is the fact that because there’s so many open plotlines it leads to fan theories that are sometimes really fun. There was a moment when my character’s skin, well, it was made for me with white eyes. And well I used it because I found it cool. And, actually, when I put it on, I read 65 tweets from people going, ‘hey, did you know that Etoiles’ character is blind because he actually lost his eyesight because he was—‘

Antoine: But you know on this server, the moment you say any sentence it gets overinterpreted in every way

Etoiles: It’s so funny—

Antoine: What’s wild is that there’s a billion theories on things, and for my part there are people that have understood some stuff about the theory and everything, which I find rather fun

Etoiles: Well it’s— you can’t reproach them because—

Antoine: Oh no precisely, I don’t want to reproach them, on the contrary I find it so cool!

Etoiles: Yeah but it’s funny the extent to which they get in their heads about it— like, you say one sentence on the server and you read a whole text of 65–

Antoine: Yeah, yeah it’s that

Etoiles: It’s really so funny

Angle Droit/Florence: Hmm, he said he was hungry at this given time, it’s surely a coded message

Etoiles: It’s really that!

Antoine: No but really, it’s really that, you know

Etoiles: But you know it’s honestly that, Florence

Antoine: You say a little sentence that’s supposed to be a joke and it’ll be interpreted seriously because ‘there’s this, and this, and that’, you see. But the thing is, it’s often completely wrong, but sometimes it’s correct. So they have every reason to continue theorising, honestly, I find. I think they have every reason to continue theorising, it’s very interesting

Etoiles: You’re just correct the goat, dude

[Third clip begins]

Etoiles: Basically I can say it because it’s out of roleplay and I think Antoine already knows it, because sometimes people are like, ‘yeah you can’t spoil the other streamers!’ but the streamers see everything—

Antoine: I know everything that happens on QSMP

Etoiles: —it’s just that the streamers don’t use the info rp wise. Basically I’m apart of an organisation on the server—

Antoine: What, you’re kidding, dude?!

[The others laugh]

ZeratoR: What the fuck?!

Antoine: I’m not supposed to know that, dude!

Etoiles: Basically I’m apart of an organisation that’s called the Resistance—

Antoine: (scoffs)

Etoiles: —and it’s completely hidden within the server, no one knows about it in the roleplay

ZeratoR: Even I knew about it, so

Etoiles: Yeah, well there you go. And therefore I have a hidden team that allows me to go into buildings, kill Federation agents that take care of the Island, and—

Antoine: But why would you want to kill Federation agents, dude?

Etoiles: Well because they’re not very nice, dude

ZeratoR: (laughs) Oh the lore is incredible. Well, it’s not nice to be mean, but…

Etoiles: The thing that’s funny—

Antoine: They’re not mean…

Etoiles: —is that I see messages from people on Twitter reacting like, ‘well I think it’s insane that Etoiles is killing Federation agents,’ when I don’t want to kill them. I never want to kill them. When I kill them, it’s because I’m forced to. And the last time, I didn’t want to kill them—

Antoine: That’s a really war criminal-esque phrase, that

ZeratoR: Clearly

Etoiles: No but bro, bro, it’s the admins themselves that told me, ‘return to the base, let’s fight,’ that’s what they said, bro, so I was like, ‘well, okay’ (laughs)

Antoine: Well that…

Etoiles: It was fun, honestly. And so when I saw all the messages on Twitter like, ‘Etoiles’ character has totally lost his mind,’ I was like, well—

Antoine: What, you don’t like white teddy bears, dude? Honestly, they’re so cool

Etoiles: Then again, white teddy bears aren’t really nice, dude

Antoine: Dude they are simply what I’d call the goat, honestly. They’re what I call the goat, personally, white teddy bears are called the goat

end Video Transcript.]

[yuridovewing]

i really hate how the fandom’s excuse for jayfeather’s shitty behavior (and outright medical malpractice in certain cases. looking at the time he refused to help squilf in labour bc he couldnt be bothered and later blamed her for how bad it was) is “well the clan was ableist to him growing up, so fuck them!” ok how does that excuse him screaming at and berating the cats that didnt do any of that. or the babies.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompts in Memes 7

[writer-room]

Obsessed with Jay fully knowing he has lightning powers, but tucking that shit so far back down it's right next to where he keeps all his insecurities. By which I mean I know damn well he is SO bad at hiding his element. The toaster in the break room is on the fritz and he goes over to fix it and winds up sparking it back to life on accident. Someone bursts into his office when he's playing video games and he startles so bad he sends an electrical shock through the controller and blows a fuse. He's out on a mission in the middle of a storm and whenever anyone touches him they keep getting zapped with weirdly powerful static.

He insists no one knows. The truth is that most people don't know because the Administration would have to do too much paperwork if Jay actually had powers so they live in blissful ignorance. The few that do know keep their mouths shut and decide it's just a quirk of their weird manager. Jay's humming the mission impossible theme under his breath every other day, which is probably why he never even bothered to get to the "huh, I wonder why I have these weird powers" stage. And he will continue to not think about it until he dies. Or Nya finally finds him and has a meltdown over her greatest fear coming true. One of the two

[avephelis]

every time someone mischaracterises jay ferin as the therapist friend a fairy loses its wings btw. put some respect on her emotionally-constipated ass.

[sir-meows-a-lot]

Marble hornets except they all have really bad southern accents that only straight up rednecks elderly people seem to have

like, entry 64 in the tunnel and instead of Alex just ominously saying “leave. Now” he says “go on n’ get”

or entry 83, Tim starts chasing hoody and instead of him just sayin “I’M GONNA KILL YOU” he says “I’M GONNA KILL YOU DEAD”

entry 32 and Jessica just says “Jay, bless yer heart, you ain’t actin right in the head”

I could write more but I no no wanna

[roarinsaurus]

i feel like i should just accept that special interest may become a word that just, won't be for autistic people to talk about their experiences. allistics found out about it and watered it down for their own purposes.

[hereforthecartoons]

Ninjago fans will find the most convoluted and stupid story lines with barely explored relationships and characters and then make the most gutwrenching piece of art youve ever seen.

[goshdarnitjay]

*drops more art and runs away*

i love them 😭😭😭💚💜 the first one is especially haunting. and the last one is exactly how i imagined it! the werewolf mask thing hurts my heart :((( but you captured the horror perfectly.

wolf loaf baby 😭💚💜

[lunabug2004]

Okay but if I get another “reasons why st5 will fail/reasons why I’m not watching st5” recommendation/TikTok/POST OF ANY KIND….. IM GONNA GO INSANE

Like, good for you ig 🤷🏼‍♀️ I couldn’t care less if you’re not watching tbh, and I respect your opinions/decisions… but don’t try to make others feel bad about still wanting to watch it. We are all humans and are all capable of making our own decisions thank you!

[bluebeary-jay]

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age,  for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together. 

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

[citruslllad]

following this concept by @hoofpeet , i love the idea that emmet finds out ingo can't remember him so he just constantly thinks "I am Emmet, I am Emmet" in case maybe ONE of those thoughts gets through to Ingo

[bonefall]

I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".

Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"

Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)

Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say

Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.

I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.

In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.

If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.

But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.

Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.

"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."

It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.

...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.

(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)