#but my eyesight is not considered a disability

[obstinatecondolement]

It feels like every day I read attempts to debunk the social model of disability that fundamentally misunderstand what the social model of disability is and who the people who developed that model were, including what the nature of their disabilities was, and I want to scream.

But I don't, because yelling at people on the internet is basically pointless. Instead I check to see that I'm not mutuals with whoever reblogged said misunderstanding and vague about it.

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I think many people understand the idea that disability can be a social problem, even construct, in that as more visibility man lead to more accommodations and even educate (regardless of accuracy), but not that disability can still disable regardless of society. Many people understand the idea of a social construct so long as there is still a consise understanding of the social construct, with little wriggle room for nuance and discussion.

[todayisafridaynight]

Hahahaa he's so "bright talented young man alters himself to attain greatness and escape a life he was unhappy with but despite warnings (he ignored them) fails in the end and dies while his father lives on without him"

Secondly though I also HAD to throw on some Mother Mother. Notably, Body (tbh a disabled bitch anthem imo) and Arms Tonight (y'know. Bc the end of the game). Stg I'll send you the playlists for the Arakawa's when I'm done with them. I take my sweet ass time tho v sorry hahaha 😂

Litcherallyyyyyy thats what im sayin bro..... esp when in the story of icarus his father helps him escape the island/helps him succeed and when icarus does fail his father is left imprisoned.... does that not happen to our icarus too.... does that not happen to his father also..... wild....

And take your time with your playlists, no rush ! A dude knows what its like tryin to make it Just Right

[astrxealis]

good morning! <3

[lafemmemacabre]

I'm an autistic + cripple Latine lesbian without personal income and I REALLY need to buy meds, new contacts and a few smaller necessities.

My donations have completely stalled (I only have 5 USD in my Paypal account that have been sitting there for weeks, that's too little money to transfer to my bank account considering there's a fee to that transaction) and I've felt bad about possibly making a new donation post for myself since my family and my best friend are in direr need and I'm mainly promoting those, but I literally only have 105 CLP in my bank account rn (0.13 USD).

I ran out of my sleep medication to treat my INSANE insomnia weeks ago. I cannot stress enough how important decent quality sleep is for someone like me who experiences disabling chronic fatigue. One of the meds that helps with my sleep is also the med that treats my tachycardia, and now that I've been off of it for over a week I keep getting so many fucking tachycardia episodes even while laying down. I also want to just go get checked up now that I'm finally registered in public healthcare/FONASA.

I've had to get new contacts since October of last year (mine last me a month, I've been wearing September's pair since then until now that it's June). They're stained in a way I can't clean off without risk of tearing them so everything has a white blur on it and it's drying my eyes so much. I can't go without visual correction as I have the eyesight of a fucking mole.

My butch does work full time but with them being the sole bread-winner and their salary barely being enough for bills, groceries and very small treats here and there, I really don't want to ask them to pay for these things (hence why I still don't have my meds and contacts).

Anything helps!

Paypal • Ko-fi

[bonefall]

I’m rereading Po3 and despite its flaws I really enjoyed the introduction to the three. Jaykit isn’t mentioned to be blind in the first few chapters and instead they chose to show how much MORE capable he is compared to his littermates; until at the end of chapter 3, he brings up his blindness on his own. It makes forcing him to be a medicine cat SO much more frustrating because it really feels like they’re setting him up to be a warrior and choose his own fate (note i haven’t finished the reread this is just my first impression)

I like how you seem to take that path in BB regardless! It makes his arc so much more enjoyable

His arc in canon is super frustrating because he's such an independent character who clearly wants to make his own decisions in life, but then he just gets shoved into the medcat den. I LIKE that he ultimately goes there and that he enjoys it; but it was still really fucked up that they stripped away his autonomy in the process.

Re: they are not real, they are writing choices. Taking away the choices a disabled character can make over their own life, forcing them into a celibate nun role, and then going "awwwww dont worry see? he likes it! This was the best thing for him :)" was fucked up.

And imo it didn't have to be that way! You wouldn't have to go the FULL route I did with big changes, he could just be more involved in the descision to stop being a warrior apprentice and it would be fine. Minor change that would make a world of difference.

I do also have to interject to say though... blindness should really not be an extremely severe impairment for a ThunderClan cat.

I'm dead serious.

Whiskers are built-in sensors that tell you the exact position of everything within several inches of your head, ears swerve to pick up sound, and the jacobson's organ provides a sense of smell so keen that I have an entire Clanmew expansion draft because I needed to make WORDS describing the power of this sense that humans do not have. I cannot stress enough how delicate their other senses are, felines do not rely on their sight like primates do

ThunderClan lives in a mixed-oak woodland, where sight is already often obscured by foliage, objects are close together (for whiskers to feel), and nearly every movement makes noise against the leaf litter. RiverClan and (moor-running) WindClan cats would have a harder time with this disability than Thunder or Shadow.

Cat sight SUCKS to begin with. It sucks BADDD. They don't have color vision, they're significantly nearsighted, and they can't track up-and-down movements well. WC doesn't write realistic cats (more like small fuzzy people really) and I also work with more humanesque eyesight, but the only thing Jay should really lose is an ability to rapidly track a small animal swerving fast. Blind cats are often still excellent hunters in spite of that!

So it's an extra big waste that they railroaded him into a position he didn't choose, saying he couldn't be a warrior. This is the perfect disability to write, if you want to explore how ableism can impact the characters in this society who ARE legitimately still capable of nearly full independence, but still need to find accommodations for what they can't do.

In the same arc they're doing the dumb Cinder Reincarnation Plotline, no less!! Where SHE is also feeling like she has no choice over her "destiny," and gets a conflict over a potentially disabling injury

"Oh nooo if cinderpaw breaks her leg she wont be a warrior!"

"What the f-- Im Jaypaw and im reporting live from the scene where a Category 1 Idiot Moment is taking place. Woman breaks leg, suddenly everyone believes she is a horse, more at 11."

One of these days I should really make "herb guides" just covering how various sensory disabilities impact the lives of Clan cats and some tips for writing them as warriors, especially between Clans. Stuff you wouldn't usually consider, like how much noise deaf cats tend to make, how RiverClan would get a ton of sinus infections and lose their sense of smell, being blind in Sky vs Thunder, etc.

[olderthannetfic]

I wish that more disabilities were treated like glasses.

There are a few dumb stereotypes about people who wear glasses, and children occasionally poke fun at their glasses-wearing peers, but overall glasses are accepted as just something some people have, and no one thinks any less of glasses wearers.

I've never lost a job or had my intelligence or humanity questioned because I wear glasses, no one has ever tried to take my glasses away or told me that I just need to try harder to see things without them. No one tells me that I'm faking or throwing a pity party if they see me take off my glasses to look at something very small and close. No one has told me that my glasses are an unreasonable accomodation. People don't see my glasses and immediately ask why I haven't had lasik or tell me that I need to try the same brand of contact lenses as their cousin. People don't call me slurs or glare at me or comment about how my life must be so miserable or I must be so brave because I wear glasses. The few people who go around saying that diets or prayer or herbal tinctures can cure nearsightedness are considered crackpots.

But my glasses are a disability aid, they're medical equipment. If I didn't have glasses, I would not be able to safely leave my home by myself, and I'd have a lot of trouble even doing basic things around the house like cooking and laundry. Without glasses, my eyesight would actually be more disabling than the diagnosed condition that I get disability benefits for.

Then again, glasses-wearerssnot being considered disabled and glasses not being considered medical equipment is probably why it's so hard to get insurance coverage for them in the US....

--

[gamchawizzy]

❗️Mutual Aid Needed🦐

Hello hello, I am Woz, I am a trans guy from the global south, and outside of my day job in corporate, I am an artist. I am the breadwinner of my family, and I also get my younger sibling through school.

For a little more than half a decade I have been suffering with bad mental health and suicidal thoughts, on top of trying to keep my family afloat with what I can earn.

I work two jobs to earn money, on top of tabling at conventions to be able to earn extra on the side. I am the one who pays all the house bills, some groceries, often having to send money to my sibling for school and sometimes tuition. Due to the constant pressure from overworking and the abusive social environment I have been exposed to for the longest time, I am now experiencing bodily pains, shortness of breath, headaches, worsening eyesight, and worsened depression as I clock in 10-15 hours almost daily (including weekends and holidays) trying to make ends meet.

I’m humbly asking for your help so I can get proper healthcare, which has been out of my reach for the longest time due to poverty. I was hoping to be able to afford help a few years ago, as soon as I got a job, but ever since the pandemic, the local price hikes just kept going, and going, until the matter was off the table entirely. The biggest reason why I am trying to get this moving now and as urgently as possible is so I can still receive treatment while I am still mentally and physically able to take charge of my own health. 

While I’m still more or less able to function well enough to work, I recently escaped an abusive situation, which was one of the biggest causes of my misery. The fallout from this event brought on a severe impact on my mental health and I was subject to a cult-like shunning by my old community. This has caused me to develop suicidal thoughts again, which eventually led to several self-delete attempts, the latest of which almost succeeded had I not been caught at literally the last second.

At the moment I am stable again and in the hands of trusted loved ones, but I still do not have access to professional help and I don’t know how long this stability will last and the next thing might cause me to spiral again.

We already did some research on getting local help and have a plan in motion, all we need now is the funds to carry it out. The bulk of it will be for the initial consultations and possibly medication, and we’re hoping to have enough to get the ball rolling for a couple months’ worth of treatment as I get myself back on track.

The initial process will be the most expensive as I am suspecting to have an undiagnosed condition that I would like to have checked, as well as possible medication. I do not have a disability ID yet (but I plan on getting one once I get a dx on paper), so we may have to pay full price for initial treatments.

Currently, my primary goal for this would be to achieve psychiatric help, diagnosis, medication, and therapy.

If I’m able to save up for a few months of maintenance and still have extra left over, my secondary goal would be to finally get my knees checked, as I have chronic pain and the occasional kneecap dislocation in them. This has been left unchecked for more than 15 years due to both poverty as well as being outright denied healthcare by the adults around me due to them downplaying the problem. I am nearing my 30s soon. While I’m still able to walk and engage in physical activities without the use of mobility aids, I fear that the complications from this condition if left untreated will only take a turn for the worse as I age.

Direct ways to support me:

Paypal:

Ko-Fi:

I have prints! You can pick up some of my art here:

We do not have a set price goal in mind as it will be a months-long process of beginning treatment and maintaining it, but rest assured all funds received will be set aside for the purpose of my healthcare and well-being only.

I still cannot escape many factors of my life that continue to hurt me, but I am hoping that continuous treatment, therapy, and support will help keep me going so I can keep my family fed without me having to worry about my own health.

Any donation, big or small, helps me so much! Even just a dollar/peso helps, shares and reblogs too! PH Moots, feel free to ask for my GCash in private!

Thank you all for reading! I’m always grateful 😭🙏❤

[thebibliosphere]

TW: MEDICAL TRAUMA AND GASLIGHTING- UK FRIENDS, PLEASE HELP

Hey, this is a long shot, but do I have any followers in the UK--specifically Scotland, but I’ll take anywhere--diagnosed with MCAS/D with a doctor they can recommend?

My younger disabled brother who I share a lot of health problems with has just been hospitalized at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital (aka 'the Death Star') for symptoms consistent with a prolonged MCAS flare. He's hardly eating, he's got undiagnosable bladder pain, blinding headaches, worsening allergies, and his skin/eczema is so bad he’s at risk of sepsis and losing his eyesight because he’s been left to claw himself raw with chronic urticaria near his eyes that has been brushed off for years as “anxiety.” (Which he was then prescribed diazepam for and nothing else 🙃)

When my mother brought up my MCAS diagnosis over here in the US and how similar my brother’s symptoms and reactions are, the attending doctor said that MCAS “isn’t real” and won’t even prescribe famotidine for what my brother is describing as “suffocating acid reflux”—presumably because this doctor is now on some sort of bruised ego trip over my mother questioning his prognosis that my brother is suffering from anxiety and “a lack of personal hygiene.”

(My brother is severely disabled, and my elderly mother has to bathe and dress his wounds daily, just like she’s been doing for the last 32 years since he was born. This is not a lack of personal hygiene this is a lack of medical care!!!)

My mother is trying her best, but she’s got her own health problems and suffers severely from her own medical trauma, which is making advocating harder. They do have an appointment to see a dermatologist on Friday, but considering it's at the same clinic that said my chronic urticaria was also anxiety (🙃), we're not holding out much hope.

I've managed to find him some OTC meds that might help stabilize things, but he's at the stage where he needs a knowledgeable MCAS doctor to either confirm or rule this out and figure out what the hell is going on.

I'm trying to help, but from 4000 miles away, it's proving difficult and every possible lead I've found so far has been a dead end.

NHS is preferable but it doesn't have to be. I will find a way for him to go private if I have to. Fuck if you are an MCAS doctor in the UK, I'll pay for your petrol to go to Scotland. I'll pay for anything. I just can't listen to my mother crying in the Queen Liz car park anymore because she might be about to lose her second child to the illness that almost took her first.

Thank you. Sorry. I just don't know what to do anymore.

[alpaca-clouds]

Magically Healing Disabilities and the Road to Eugenics

Because this topic comes up again and again - and a lot of abled people just don't get it - let me try to explain this one more time:

If you create a SciFi or Fantasy world in which there are no people with disabilities, because all disabilities can be healed through magic or technology, you are creating an ableistic world, that favors eugenics!

Erasing disabilities from a world is something eugenicists would want to do, nothing else.

A lot of abled people will reply: "But I just want everyone to be able to live their lives at the fullest in my world!" What they do not quite grasp is, that with that they prescribe what "living a life at its fullest" means to people, not realizing that it can mean a whole lot of different things to folks.

Frankly: I do not think I could live my life at its fullest without my autism, thank you very much.

And sure, some might say: "But what is with people who cannot walk or cannot see?" And I am honest: I would be lying if I said that I could imagine living without my eyesight. But I know people with blindness who absolutely do live their life at its fullest and are perfectly fine the way they are. And it is not my place to tell them that they are not.

Yeah, there are absolutely people who totally would take the magical or technological cure - and I do not see any issue with creating a world that offers it to people. I mean, right now I am suffering from what in two weeks will officially be called long COVID, which makes me absolutely unable to bike and other stuff. And if you told me: "Here, take this pill and it goes away" I am going to take that pill ASAP. But forcing me to take the pill would be wrong, don't you think?

Then there is the other argument that comes along. Of: "Alright, some people do not want to be healed, but if there is a cure why should anyone bother to make the world accessible for folks who do not want to be healed? It is their own fault!" (Yes, I had someone argue this to me before.)

So, let me address it like this: Genetically speaking blonde and redhaired people have a higher likelihood to suffer from certain conditions (especially skin and eye related). So, should we say: "Yeah, well, we need to genetically make you dark-haired and darker skinned, or if you disagree we will not pay for your healthcare"?

Probably not.

Or what is with people who just hate eating their veggies, something that we absolutely do know carries health risks? "Either eat your veggies, or we will not take care for you?" That would be super out of line, right?

Or lets talk about something that left folks will hopefully care about: Trans healthcare. Like, sure, there are massive mental health benefits that come from it. But there are other health risks associated with it too. Should folks just not take care of those, because they are "self-imposed"?

Do you see how much of a slippery slope that is?

Not to mention once again: What is and is not considered a disability is at times pretty randomly decided. It is always an artificial line drawn in the sand. What is a "healthy body"?

And I also should once more note: Most disabilities are in fact disabilities people acquire during their life. Through accidents, through other illnesses, through simply aging. Should we criminalize aging to not have to create accessibility stuff for old people with walking aids? Do you really think that would be good?

So, yeah. Not only is a "world without disabilities because magic" fairly dumb if you consider all the aspects of disabilities - it also is very much eugenicist.

[nightmaretour]

Have you considered that it doesn't really affect anything if people call their glasses mobility aids? It communicates a specific need for the glasses. Even if it's not technically correct does it really matter that much? Like I'm asking because I can't imagine why this is a hill people need to die on besides lateral aggression about who has the "right" to call something a mobility aid.

So really is the actual harm of it? I've never seen anyone doing it to claim specialness, usually to explain why they need to wear them in the pool or shower, places where it's expected that you take them off. Some people actually fall without them, some don't. I thought that's what made them a mobility aid.

Yes, it does matter, because there are very specific challenges faced by people who need to use mobility aids to physically mobilise, and by denying us our own language to identify those issues, you silence us. There is no "lateral aggression", just straight ableism from people who can't stand it when physically disabled people speak out. Words have meanings for a reason.

I wear glasses, I have fairly poor (and still worsening) long distance eyesight. Without my glasses I might have trouble finding my way around, but without my crutch or other mobility aid, I physically can not get anywhere.

If I had to, I could get around in an emergency without my glasses. It would be difficult and uncomfortable, but nothing would be physically stopping me from mobilising. Without a mobility aid, I can get a few "steps" (very unsafely) but I wouldn't be able to go anywhere in an emergency because my body is physically unable to mobilise any more than that.

These things are very different. It's not only very incorrect to call these things the same, but it isn't "harmless" either. There seems to be a growing trend lately within the greater community of denying physically disabled people our own terminology to describe our specific experiences because "This other thing that I experience is totally the same! Why should you have a separate word?"

When you take the words we use to explain ourselves, and you refuse to let us identify each other, you divide and silence us.

[dndadscharacterpolls]

Hello there ! I'm Aether (it/its) ! You can find me on my main, @justablah56 I just thought it'd be fun to have dndads specific polls, so why not do it myself ?

this post will be constantly updating , so if you want to keep up with what's happening make sure to check in here every once in a while !

all current poll information will be above the cut, and then general rules for this account in general will be below :]

the current poll is favorite character headcanon , which will start its first round on April 28 at 3 pm MST ! we'll then have a day between rounds 1 and 2 , so round two will probably open on April 30 at the same time :]

CURRENT ROUND : ROUND 1

everyone with the Scam Likely voice is related to the Likely family (ex. the bleeding elf) vs borderline personality disorder Lark

Bipolar Lark vs Terry Jr never learned to drive after rolling a nat 1 at the end of s1

Henry has a mullet vs Lark and Grant's Top Secret Fight Club

transfem Daryl vs Ron is a furry

transfem Lincoln vs Grant and Marco met online playing video games together

Morgan and Glenn were love at first sight vs Ron doesn't believe in WiFi

Jewish Cassandra vs bi4bi Carol and Daryl but they're in denial about it

genderfluid Hermie vs Glenn carried Scam and Jodie's kid

Henry, ordained minister of the Church of Life, officiated Marco and Grant's wedding vs transfem Hero

adhd Normal vs transmasc Ron

transfem Margarita vs Nicky is biologically related to all three parents (Jodie, Glenn Morgan)

autistic Hermie vs Nicky has loved Lark since he was 12

Lark has an amethyst that Mercedes gifted him vs Sparrow studies medicine

Ron knows exactly what taxes are and how to pay them because it's the one thing Willy taught him vs Glenn and Morgan gave each other stick and poke tattoos and all of Glenn's disappeared after the trial

disabled Taylor vs transfem Normal

genderfluid Scam vs Nicky is part of a system

adhd Nicky vs Gerry is named after Grant and Terry Jr

audhd Henry vs Terry Jr is fluent in French bcs Terry Sr immigrated from France

pansexual Jodie vs arospec linc

Sparrow has terrible eyesight but refuses to wear contacts on missions vs Lark keeps his hair short out of paranoia

Scary uses stamp-on eyeliner bcs she can't do winged eyeliner herself vs Grant left the Catholic church but still finds comfort in the rituals

transmasc Henry vs aro Taylor

transfem Sparrow vs Daryl and Carol go to couples counseling post s1, but end up amicably divorcing

polycule teens vs nonbinary Hero

Carol and Darryl get divorced post s1 but still live together out of convenience vs dyslexic Scary

Henry baptized Lincoln vs Normal needs glasses but doesn't know it

discalculic Sparrow vs Glenn struggled with self harm after being in prison, specifically scratching at phantom shackles on his wrists

Willy is a trans man who transitioned bcs he was so misogynistic he didn't want to be a woman vs genderfluid Glenn

autistic Normal vs trans Scary

Nicky heavily considered erasing one of the timelines from his memory with the memory syringes when they were younger vs Glenn proposed to Morgan at their junior prom but Morgan's parents said no and they had to wait til they were 18 after graduation

Lark and Sparrow have heterochromia vs Henry got Vine famous due to Rock Rock and then got famous on TikTok where he has a gardening series in addition to his Rocks Rock series

Jewish Stamplers vs dyslexic Nicky

Normal paints his nails in the Teen High colors vs Daryl thinks Slim Shady and Eminem are two different people

Glenn merc'ed Jodie in their heaven cell vs transmasc Normal

Sparrow commits prescription fraud to get meds for Lark vs Gerry was Scary and Linc's wedding gift from Scam

Wasian Marlowes vs t4t oakworthy

transfem Glenn vs autistic Linc

Bill Close was/is a coke-head vs transfem Hermie

Indigenous Rebecca vs Terry Jr had a goth phase in highschool

ocd Grant vs Glenn has been celibate since Morgan died

Lark and Sparrow have lavender eyes vs Taylor's sword cane is a mobility aid

nonbinary Terry Jr vs he/they Sparrow

Lark and Grant have semi colon tattoos for each other vs queerplatonic married gothcleats

it/its Lark vs Nicky loves cats even though he's allergic to them

transmasc Nicky vs Lark has slept with all of Sparrow's partners out of a "have to be the same" compulsion

t4t hencedes vs Nicky is actually a great cook since Glenn was never there to cook for him

Lark is Normal 's biological dad vs Terry Jr has sandy blonde hair bcs he bleaches and dyes it

Sparrow has chronic nightmares about Lark dying vs adhd Scary

Sparrow/Rebecca/Lark polycule vs demisexual Glenn

t4t Nicky/Cassandra vs trans Taylor

Nicky goes by Nick Freeman after his mom as an adult vs nonbinary Hermie

ace Terry Jr vs the Swallows-Oak-Garcia family stays with Henry for a bit post canon after their house burned down

Lark is the older twin vs Sparrow had to come out as cishet bcs everybody else is some sort of queer

Sparrow is the older twin vs Nicky is legally blind without contacts

each poll will have 3 days of submissions, and then each round will last a day. then there will be one day of break, and then the next day there'll be another poll to pick the next competition and so on and so forth :3

poll submissions are always open , so if at any time you have a poll you'd think would be fun feel free to send it in !

any poll we've done previously is fair game , there are quite literally no limits for what polls you can submit , so send in your ideas !

current poll submissions :

aroallo

ace

best Daryl fact

best Lincoln fact

best Scary fact

best Taylor fact

best Jodie fact

coolest npc name

favorite s2 episode

favorite niche/unpopular ship

best s1 arc

favorite song intro

biggest saddest eyes

propaganda is 100% welcome ! feel free to send an ask or bribe via art requests, and if you make a post just tag me and I'll reblog it here tagged with " *poll* propaganda" if your propaganda is in a reblog , make sure you write it on the post rather than the tags if you want it reblogged here !

I don't just post polls on this acc ! I also reblog fanart , fandom events , and other polls including dndads characters! for fanart I use the tags "not a poll" and "fanart" , for events I use "fandom events" , and for other polls I use the tag "not my polls" , so if either of those are things you don't want to see , feel free to block those tags :]

Previous polls (as of our come back in February ! )

best Normal Fact : ep29 - he is the most published author in the teen high fanfiction tag on ao3

favorite headcanon : Taylors sword cane is his mobility aid for his balance issues that come and go

best Glenn fact : Glenn still considers himself married to Morgan even though she's dead

best npc : Terry Jr Stampler

best non-song intro: ep27 - Glenn and Ron on shark tank for the elevator button

funniest npc name : Sexcallibur Horsepower

if you want to know who won what before the hiatus , you can find those here !

if you have any questions about the blog in general or anything else , feel free to send in an ask and I'll do my best to answer it !

[hargrove-mayfields]

It’s Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 1- Music

My prompt: Harringrove- Dancing to music at their wedding

-•-•-•-

In 1996, Billy and Steve get married.

They didn’t want to wait an unknown amount of time just for a legal certificate that wouldn’t mean much anyways, so they each picked a ring from one another’s jewelry boxes, bought some thrifted suit jackets, and set the date.

Mrs. Byers was more than happy to lend her back yard to the event, as long as her kids agreed to help her with the load of work setting up and decorating would create. They got help from their friends, and through the grapevine that led to Carol, a now professional interior designer, getting her hands on the theme and decorations. Control, drama, whatever, it’s all in Carol's wheelhouse, but Billy’s just grateful she involved Steve in choosing the theme.

Steve had had a stroke and lost 90% of his eyesight in the aftermath of the Starcourt attacks. In the years since it’s never returned, the old nurse's promises of magic recovery all hollow attempts at making him feel better, so it meant a lot when Carol went out of her way to get tactile decorations for Steve to enjoy in his own right.

Massive fake flowers, braille signs and table settings, even the cake is textured with sugar pearls and rolled chocolate to give Steve something to touch, a way to build his own image of his special day. The cake came courtesy of Jonathan and Tommy, a more than unlikely duo who came together for their friends, and because of their mutual artistic interests.

Nobody expected Tommy to become a baker of all things, but damn if he doesn’t make the best tres leches cake any of them had ever tried. Though to be fair, the majority of their Midwestern friend group couldn’t say they had tried one before. Argyle and Billy had bragging rights on culinary experiences growing up in a more culturally diverse region.

Jonathan on the other hand had become a painter, and done the decorations for Tommy’s cake. After all the monster encounters, flashing lights and loud sounds weren’t really his thing. Photography just wasn’t his passion anymore. Art was still a big interest of his though, and it was actually Heather who introduced painting, since she took lessons as a little kid.

Heather, who is the stand-in bridezilla. Both Billy and Steve are calm about their wedding, caring more about what it means to each other than the actual event. That isn’t that case for miss Heather Ernestine Holloway-Buckley. She wants everything to be perfect. Absolutely. Everything.

From the tablecloths being the same color as Billy’s white and gold suit jacket, to the flower petals scattered in the neatly trimmed grass matching the crown of flowers in Steve’s hair. She demands everyone get matching dresses or suits depending on their preference, so the pictures will turn out perfect. In Jonathan’s place, El takes the photos, taught by her older brother about the craft and determined to capture as many memories as possible.

The rest of the smaller details are kept secret from the boys. Things like who will officiate, the food, how the backyard will be set up, and the music are all a total surprise to keep things exciting.

With everything in place, all they need is to be there. To say their vows and dedicate the rest of their lives to the one they consider their soulmate.

But Steve is terrified. Having nightmares every night leading up to the wedding because he’s scared his blindness is going to ruin something. Even Robin, who has been with him every step of the way, has been warning him numerous times to be careful on that night.

The wedding will be by daylight, made even brighter by small candles on the tables, and fairy lights strung in the trees, but that only means Steve can see basic, blurry silhouettes. If he trips, or runs into something, or someone, on his wedding day, he’ll never live down the embarrassment.

There’s only one day left until the ceremony when he brings it up to Billy, trying to be subtle about it and failing hugely.

At the breakfast table, over pre-game chocolate chip pancakes as Billy called them, Steve asks him, “Are you nervous?”

Even at this stage, Billy gets grumpy in the mornings. He cooked breakfast, sure, but he might as well still be asleep until noon. Usually, thanks to his pain meds, he might take a few half hour power naps up until then. Still, his answer and its gravelly delivery are playful and unserious, “Nah. I’m just eager for the honeymoon stage.”

Only, Steve’s nerves are so wound up, he can’t find it charming like usual. A simple, quiet, “Oh.” is his only response.

Right away, he can tell from the shift in his partner's energy that Billy knows what that means. Some part of Steve is glad he can’t look into Billy’s face and see the pain in his features, from knowing Steve isn’t perfectly alright.

That’s something Steve forgets sometimes, that just because he can’t see someone, doesn’t mean they can’t see him. Every emotion he feels is expressed freely in the look on his face, revealing the anxiety, and the bubbling uncertainty that makes this so hard.

Billy encourages him to talk about it, “Come on, Stevie. Spill. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

Something tells Steve to lie. Maybe it’s the pressure of the wedding being just a little over twenty four hours away at this point. Probably that. His entire life he grew up thinking there was nothing more important than marriage, and now that he has the chance, he’s terrified of things going poorly. So he assures Billy, “Nothing! I get to marry you! What could be wrong?”

“Darling. I see those gears turning. You’re thinking something.” Billy sees through it. Of course he does or he wouldn’t have ever broken down Steve’s mask personality enough to one day become his husband. Billy must worry that he hasn’t done exactly that, because he asks, softer and more quivery than his other words, “Getting cold feet?”

“No! Oh, god Billy no. Never ever.” Steve promises passionately, reaching over to the spot where Billy is for his hand, the responsibility of actually placing their hands together and sharing touch placed onto Billy. Squeezing it gently so he knows he feels him, Steve tries to explain his feelings, “I just. I feel wiggly.”

“Can you tell me what wiggly means?” Billy asks, always asking questions to make sure he understands Steve’s needs enough to help. It’s no mystery why he loves him so much.

That said, it takes a moment of thinking for Steve to put it into words, “Like everything’s shaky and bad. And I’m scared and nervous. And kinda shy. But the bad kind of shy.”

“All that about the wedding?” Billy’s definitely worried about him. Scared that maybe marriage, even if it’s not technically official, is possibly too much pressure for him.

Steve eases that quiet nagging with his response, and takes the blame too, “More like about messing up the wedding.”

Trying to soothe what little tension there has become, Billy softly comforts Steve, “Honey, you’re not going to mess up. There’s no right way to get married.”

“But not everyone who gets married is blind.” Steve mumbles, and Billy realizes it’s that kind of wiggly.

Ever since losing his sight, Steve’s been a bit more quiet. It’s not like he changed, but Billy had a suspicion there was something brewing under the surface. Now that it’s been confirmed that Steves worries come from that, and since fear of the changes disability brought to their lives is something Billy is familiar with himself, he thinks he knows how to help.

“I'm in a wheelchair maybe four days a week, and the others I’m in bed. That’s not exactly typical either.” Is his choice of words.

It seems to work for a moment, since Steve relaxes a bit, but then his mind starts going again and he fishes up a new fear to bring to Billy.

“But you have special braces and stuff if you want to stand up for pictures and dancing.. I can’t just put in a new pair of eyes.” He sounds almost sad.

Billy wants to make sure he knows he doesn’t have to feel that way.

He asks, “Is that what you’re worried about? Dancing?”

Steve shrugs, still physically expressive as a habit despite his inability to see those mannerisms, and says quietly, “A little.”

Billy seems to think that’s a fixable issue, even offering up a quick solution, “Chrissy did cheer for her whole life and she’s married to a paraplegic. She can totally help us with a dance.”

“She’s also very pregnant. I don’t wanna bother-“ Steve denies right away, but Billy’s already wheeling over to the phone before he can really stop him.

“Too bad. I’m already calling her.” Billy’s tone of voice just sounds like he’s smiling mischievously, which has Steve rolling his eyes without meaning anything by it, especially when Billy greets their friend by saying, “Hey, Chris! Got a second, toots?”

•-•-•-•-•

Before Steve knows it, it’s the next day, and the time for practice is over.

Instead of a wedding march, the soft strum of an electric guitar signals Steve to come down the aisle, which is really just a bolt of soft fabric rolled out over the grass and weighed down by dollar tree candles.

He’s not sure who’s playing, but it’s sweet, the soft version of a Cinderella song Billy and Steve both love. It brings a smile to his face, but doesn’t cancel out the clammy feeling he gets when he realizes it’s time to step forward and actually walk down the aisle.

It’s only the officiant at the other end, Billy still inside getting ready for his entrance after Steve’s, so he’s not sure why he’s so scared. With Dustin and Claudia on either side of him, and a hand on the harness his guide dog wears, he should feel stable and supported.

But every step forward makes that intensity of the butterflies in his stomach only grow stronger.

Until something cuts through, the voice of the officiant;

“And here we have Groom number one. Led by the one and only, Miss Peanut Butter Cup the Beagle. She’s feisty, she’ll bite your ass, and she loves to cuddle. Sounds like a great honeymoon.”

Talking like an infomercial, or some kind of weird radio announcer, Murray fucking Bauman is the man who will marry Steve to the love of his life. At least half of his fears dissolve on the spot. This isn’t some all serious, super tense event like his biological parents would have planned for him.

This is a celebration, and all of his friends and family are going to stumble their way through it, so why shouldn’t he?

Him and his Henderson entourage keep walking to the makeshift altar, and Murray keeps talking, “Oh yeah. And the rest. You all know him, you all love him, it’s Dustin! Here to impart his uninvited wisdom unto the newlyweds. And what’s this? A Jewish mom who will adopt any roughian street kid she sees? That’s right folks, it’s Claudia Henderson, and with her she has- her newest adoptee!”

“Stefan Harrington! And today is his big day. Everybody give him a hand. He can’t see your stupid cheeseburger smiles. Give him the entrance you’d give the president if he walked past.” Murray laughs at himself in the midst of the lengthy introduction, “Actually, no. Please don’t do that. Just clap for him.”

All of this makes Steve giggle his way down the aisle, largely forgetting about his fears of ruining the ceremony. After all, with Murray in charge, there are no rules to abide by.

When he makes it to his spot, and Dustin and Claudia step away, Steve has a one-on-one with Murray, “How you doing, kid?”

Recognizing there’s no time to dive into the nuances, Steve says simply, “I’m okay.”

“Just okay? This is the real deal! You gotta be pumped!” Murray encourages him, which makes Steve remember that there’s something holding him back.

“I’m too wiggly.” He sounds defensive.

Murray on the other hand just sounds happy, and eternally positive, as he suggests, “Shake out those wiggles. C’mon, I’ll do it with you.”

Together the two of them shake and flap and wiggle, a moment that never would’ve happened without the support Steve has gotten from his family. There was a time when, although he wasn’t very good at masking, he’d have been too ashamed to openly stim in front of an entire wedding party of the most important people in his life. Now though, by the end of this, he’s giggling and smiling and having the time of his life.

Checking in again, Murray asks him, “That better?”

“A little.” Steve shrugs, struggling to assign any qualities to the big big feelings he has. Feelings are so hard right now.

He’s getting married.

“C’mon, what can I do to make it best?” Murray keeps trying, something of another parent to Steve. Even making another joke, “I mean, I can start taking my clothes off, but I don’t think Joyce would be too happy.”

A little bit haunted by that mental image, but mostly amused, Steve shakes his head, and gives his best response, “Just, can you read slowly? And not tease me so much during the real thing?”

Instantly Murray agrees lightheartedly, “A deals a deal. Smack me in the head if I screw it up, alright. This is the only time I’ll ever tell you that because I am perfect otherwise.”

It’s the guitar melody rising up that cuts off their conversation, and suddenly Steve’s heart rate is picking up again. This is really happening.

Murray puts it not so gracefully, “Oops. I’ll stop running my mouth now. Looks like your other half is coming.”

Since Steve can’t see what’s happening, Murray goes back into his narration mode, which Steve appreciates a lot.

“Coming up next folks is our half off sale. That’s right, now you can get two for the price of one. Just add a wedding band- Sold separately.” Murray jokes, earning a little scoff from Joyce, which makes Steve laugh softly.

He’s grateful for the dry, cheesy sense of humor Murray has, otherwise he might be totally panicking right now.

“What’s this? We have a flower girl, people. Leading the way is miss Chrissy with her lovely paper flower petals. Behind her, to match her developing appreciation for all things butch, Heather does not have flowers. Oh no. She has seashells. Imported from the fine beaches of the dollar store they were purchased at.”

It’s probably rude, but Steve loves the mental image it gives him. He can imagine Heather in her suit, and Chrissy in her flowy dress, decorating the aisle with delicate little pieces of Billy and Steve’s love. The best part is he can hear them laughing at the jokes about themselves, so he can imagine the smiles on their faces.

His favorite part is the next introduction, the one that refers to his culture most, “Last but not least, Jane brought some sea glass, since there will be no stomping of any glass until our two grooms get some functioning body parts. Since that will never happen, join me in telling the Jewish ancestors to suck it and deal. But not groom number two. He’s too catholic.”

The trio of groomsmaids stand off to the side, their shoes crunching on the grass, and Steve knows what that means. It means Billy is coming.

“Speaking of, and without further ado- escorted by his creepy little sibling Max, here he is. Come on down William.”

The walk is slow, with Billy using his limb braces and forearm crutches instead of his wheelchair for this special moment. Steve can be patient. He’s wanted this to happen since his third date with Billy, when he brought training treats for Peanut Butter Cup and a sensory necklace for Steve. What’s a few more minutes?

The pacing does however warrant more Murray monologuing, which is something of a treat anyways.

“Ooh, not too shabby for a man with no usable limbs. Speaking of, why exactly did we just turn the aisle into a safety hazard? Oh well. At least if he falls on his ass, he’ll look good doing it.”

The comment must remind him to give a description of Billy for his sightless groom to be, “A diamond earring, tons of mascara, way too much hairspray in that fluffy perm- I’m starting to feel underdressed.”

And then he’s there. Steve can feel his energy, the radiant, sunshiney happiness Billy always produces. Since there are no rules, he decides to reach out his palms, the sign that means he wants to hold Billy’s hands. The weight and warmth of the touch when Billy obliges adds more butterflies to Steve’s chest.

He’s smiling like an idiot, and if he had to guess, he’d say Billy probably is too.

After a few moments, they’re interrupted by Murray clearing his throat, “That’s it? No hello?”

Steve can practically hear the eye roll Billy gives as he speaks, “Hi Murray. Don’t forget this is my wedding.”

“Ohhh. And here I thought this was a bat mitzvah. Don’t panic, but I think I grabbed the wrong book.” Murray pretend-whispers, letting the imaginary tension build before he pats them both on the back, and assures, “Kidding. Sure I was the worst choice for this, I don’t know shit about romance and never will, but I can do my job.”

The guitar music ends, and the residual chattering and laughing stops too. It’s time. Steve’s hands are shaking. Billy squeezes them once reassuringly.

“Once upon a time, William Reuben Hargrove met Stefan Mihai Carson Harrington; They fought, they fucked, blah blah blah, they caught feelings- and a monster possession- Oh, whatever. Point is, they’re getting married now! Two souls united and all that jazz. So are you ready to say ‘I do?’” Murray rushes through a fake service, earning groans from much of the audience.

And from Steve, who whines, “Murrayyy!”

“Fine, fine. But you're gonna pay me after this, right? I’m a licensed therapist now. My services aren’t free anymore.” Murray snarks, totally playful and unserious.

He’s not the only one who can do sarcasm, since the entire wedding party starts to boo. Steve is pretty sure he hears Carol, his strongest advocate since they were kids, shout the loudest to, “Get on with it!”

•-•-•-•-•-•

An hour later, they were married. Mister and mister Hargrove.

In the style of a picnic of sorts, everyone had brought food to share. From Claudia’s mac n cheese, to Heather and Robins take on a vegan sushi, their newest cooking experiment, to Sue Sinclairs potato salad that she sent with Lucas even though she couldn’t be there herself- there was a little something for everyone. Steve personally loved the Zeytoon Parvardeh that Joyce had made from an old family recipe. Billy preferred the ceviche Argyle brought, so he’d fed Steve all his olives, a nice romantic moment that had Steve blushing.

By now the actual party aspect of the day has begun, after the cake had been cut and the wine poured. Joyce limited the amount of alcohol allowed to be served to two bottles, one white and one red, to respect the boundaries of those like Billy recovering among them. Tommy and Robin probably have drunk the majority of that portion, and the two of them are tipsy, pestering Eddie over at his makeshift music booth.

While all the noise and everything started picking up, Steve had settled into a little corner by himself to stay calm. He hears someone approaching by the sound of footsteps, and turns his head their way, to make sure he can hear them properly.

Turns out it’s Joyce, who enthusiastically says, “Congratulations, sweetie!”

Steve thanks her, and reaches for her hand, to make a connection that will make communication easier, “Thank you, Mrs. Byers.”

Joyce rubs his knuckles, her tone soft and kind, “I hope Murray didn’t ruin your ceremony. Would you believe me if I said that was the toned down version of his original plan?”

Steve brushes it off in stride, “Somehow, yes, but we loved it, Mrs B. Billy hasn’t laughed like that in a while.”

“I’m glad. This was your day. All about you!” Joyce enthuses, sounding a little relieved to hear her friend hadn’t messed anything up, “I bet you feel so happy!”

Steve just nods, and flaps his free hand, the words escaping him but the physicality of happiness easy to express.

“Can I hug you, sweetie?” Joyce asks, delighted by Steve’s own happiness.

Now, Steve isn’t the most hug friendly person, but today, a nice tight embrace from Joyce Byers sounds like a much needed break. A respite and a safe place.

He tells her, “Yes please.”

And so she wraps her arms around him and squeezes the life out of him, gushing, “Oooh, I’m so so proud of you! You’ve come so far!”

All Steve can say is a bashful, “Thank you, Mrs. B.”

The hug lasts maybe a few minutes, of Steve taking deep breaths of perfume and cuddling soft brown hair, just savoring the whole thing and the therapeutic effect it has on him.

But all too soon, his worst fear is reality- It’s time for his first dance with Billy.

Eddie announces it, since he’s something of the coordinator now, “Looks like it’s time for a sloooow dance. Where are my two grooms?”

Joyce sounds thrilled on the other hand, “Are you ready, dear?”

Steve physically winces, “Actually…”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll do just fine. Just breathe.” Joyce puts her hand on his back and helps him catch his breath for a second, before offering sympathetically, “He’s waiting for you, sweetie. Do you want me to walk you to him?”

Nervously, Steve nods. Earlier today, he married the love of his life. That was the easy part. Dancing in front of literally everyone he’s ever cared about is not easy.

Joyce is kind enough to walk him to Billy, leaving Peanut Butter Cup asleep under Steve’s chair. Letting him do it himself would’ve probably ended in him knocking Billy over, since his braces are all that’s holding him up. Instead he gets to settle into Billy’s embrace, with Joyce’s help to sturdy them both.

His head rested on Billy’s shoulder, and Billy’s arms around his waist, toes together, they started to get into the music.

Their dance song is fitting, a song Billy had learned marching in the streets for the rights of the disabled like them. On Being Special by Sue Napolitano. A beautiful poem all about family and love.

It sets a rhythm good for swaying, and soft little shuffles. Getting lost in it, Steve closes his eyes, blocking out what little light gets through, and lets his husband guide him. Billy knows the song by heart, and, pressing his lips to give a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead, he mumbles the lyrics against his skin.

Even though there’s a lot of their friends there, in that moment it’s just them. Center stage, dancing on scrap lauan in Mrs. Byers’ backyard to the gentle crackling and crooning of a beat up old stereo, since Eddie and the band didn’t think they could do it justice.

Not even the thunking and clacking of Billy’s hardware is enough to take anyone out of the moment. This is them. Their reality.

Their disabled love story.

Steve is thankful he had Murray and Joyce and Chrissy and Billy to ease him through the nerves that led to this very moment. He did it. He had his first dance, with the love of his life, on his wedding day. Steve is maybe crying happy tears by the time it’s over, but he can hear from the general sniffles that a few other people are too.

When the song ends, there’s a beat of silence where nobody really knows what to do next. Steve can tell just from the energy shift that they’re wondering if they should help the newlyweds off the dance floor. But Steve doesn’t want to let go yet, and since they don’t move, that must be a cue for some folks to join them in dancing.

Or, that’s what Tommy interprets it to mean, because he’s stomping over towards them and shouting, “Let’s fucking goooo!!”

Steve guesses he dragged Carol along too, because she’s shriek-laughing his name, “Tomàs!!”

Their boldness inspires other couples to join in. Jonathan and Argyle, Chrissy and Eddie and their little two year old, Heather and Robin, even Hopper and Joyce, after a little coercion to get the grumpy old cop off his ass to have some fun too. The kids all come up together, leaving just a few stragglers, one being Murray. His dance partner of choice happens to be miss Peanut Butter Cup, bribed with a few blueberries he’d grabbed from the snack table.

They’re all together, and they’re all happy. So fucking happy.

•-•-•

A few songs in, Billy taps on Steve’s cheek, after giving him a small little kiss, to alert him to a conversation.

He asks softly, “Sweetheart, Patrick is dancing all by himself. Haven’t talked to him in a good while either. D’you think I could-“

But Steve doesn’t even make him finish that justification. He’s overdue for a break, and loves their friends just as much as Billy, so he’d actually prefer it if he did go to Patrick for a bit.

He tells his husband, “You don’t have to ask, babe. Go see your friend.”

“You’re sure?” Billy checks in again.

Steve nods, and gives him another small kiss to seal the deal, “I need a rest anyways. Big feelings.”

It’s still hesitantly that Billy pulls away, and only after a tight embrace, but he lets Steve go get his dog off of Murray and take his seat back in the corner. On his way away, he hears Billy call playfully, “Hey, McKinney! Get your ass over here!”

•-•-•-•-•

Out of nowhere, Steve hears the tapping of little feet running right towards him.

He’s already deduced who it is, based on the fact that there’s only one little tyke here, but the bubbly excited voice that falls to him gives it away even more, “Teevee!!”

Little Jackson is an outgoing boy, his enthusiasm curbed by nothing. Except maybe bumble bees, since he’s afraid of those, but there’s no buzzing demons around, so he’s all giggles as he pulls on Steve’s jacket sleeve.

On instinct, Steve picks him up, and blows a raspberry on the toddlers chubby little cheek, “Jackie!! There’s my favorite little groomsman!”

Jackson kicks his legs as Steve tips him onto his back, tickling his tummy and laughing along with him. Chrissy tells him he’s not as open with other people, but Steve has always been good with kids, so maybe it’s true.

Something about their pure hearts reminds him of who he’s always wanted to be. Their wonder and their fascination with everything just lifts his heart up. And at the moment, gives him the courage to get back on his feet and have some more fun.

Together with little Jackson, he twirls and spins, earning an endless stream of giggles from his friends’ baby boy.

“Wheee, you like to dance, huh?” Steve asks him, and immediately gets a very enthusiastic response.

“Yah!!!” Jackson even claps his little hands, a stim he’s clearly picked up from Eddie. Their little one is autistic and has adhd just like his dad, which probably also has to do with why he loves Steve so much.

And also why he has an abrupt energy crash and falls asleep without warning, his curly head laying on Steve’s shoulder, drooling down his back. They got their pictures already, so he doesn’t mind the mess. He just quietly takes Jackson back to a seat and cradles him softly, listening to the ongoing party and reveling in that bliss.

At some point, Billy snuck up on him, announcing his presence with a soft pet name, “Sweetheart.”

“Yes, my love?” Steve hums, turning his head in the general direction of Billy.

He’s not expecting what Billy is about to say.

“What’s the next step after marriage?”

Because of how random it seems, Steve has to think about what he’s asking, taking a moment before he remembers the old rhyme from childhood, “Uh-uh. No baby carriages yet, bubs. Give it at least a week.”

Billy is persistent, if only playfully, suggesting, “There’s always the honeymoon.”

Patting little Jackson’s back, Steve just responds vaguely, “We’ll see.”

All of it is lighthearted teasing, and a little bit of their classic pigtail pulling. They’ll talk about their future seriously when they’re ready.

That’s something Steve loves the most about Billy. He always considers him first, not societal conventions or outrageous expectations. Just Steve, and what he wants or feels comfortable with. Soulmates, he’d decided.

After all, internalized ableism be damned, what could be better than marrying his soulmate?

~~~~~~~~

Hi all! If you’ve read this far, please don’t click off!

As both mod and contributor to this event, Ive been inspired to use my fics to boost charities that aid the disabled community!

For this day, I’ve chosen the Friends of Disabled Adults and Children.

This is a charity that has a mission of “[assisting] individuals with disabilities… [by providing] free or low-cost wheelchairs and other home medical equipment.” This includes cars, tubs, power chairs, stairlifts, and more.

While founded as a religious organization, they serve all disabled community members with no limitations, and have a board of 35 members that work together to provide the best care.

They accept online donations, mail-in checks, purchases from their thrift store, or donations of gently used mobility equipment.

Friends of Disabled Adults and Children is based in Tucker, Georgia and can provide assistance to disabled individuals within a 25 mile radius of their facility. On their website, you can find statewide partners of FODAC for more resources.

Here is a link to their site: https://fodac.org

[bitwynn]

Cast away by the world with you

A SAGAU Impostor AU Songfic.

Song used: Castaways from The Backyardigans

This song has been stuck in my head for the past three days and I've just been brainrotting abt this song and my current main team-- which honestly is just a team composed of my favorite characters and has no synergy with each other in fights WHATSOEVER but fuck meta, lemme wander the world as my faves AHAHA

I might add on to this and turn it into a series, as it hints at past events. Hm... a songfic sagau series... fun concept isnt it?

Blue for Barbara, Yellow/Gold for Zhongli, Green for Wanderer, red for Diluc, Italics is Reader/General, Combined is Everyone. Colors only used for singing parts.

---

After the disaster that was earlier-- AKA risking Heizou's vision and life by holing up in his home and detective agency, Raiden ordering daily raids on any and every building, practically leaving Heizou to the wolves as you and the team ran for your lives out of Inazuma City, finding out the hard way that Raiden had once again disabled Teleport Waypoints (you still felt embarrassed by the full chested "WHAT THE FUCK" that alerted every single treasure hoarder, fatui agent, and nobushi in the area), booking it the second Diluc let out his burst which while eliminated everyone in the surrounding area ALERTED EVERYONE ELSE TO WHERE YOU ALL WERE, panic screaming directions and profanities the entire time you were hauled over Zhongli's shoulder with Wanderer dealing with enemies in the rear and Diluc and Barbara vaporizing everyone at the front, barely making it to Amakane Island and completely missing the Electroculus you needed for 5 minutes thanks to sheer panic, and finally FINALLY being able to access the Waverider Wavepoint and pointedly ignoring Wanderer's panicky jabs at your eyesight the entire time-- you and the gang were exhausted.

Last night was spent by everyone catching their breath and you sailing your tiny Waverider the entire time. Though everyone did have their own different definitions of "catching their breaths" as Wanderer just panic-snarked at you the entire time and Diluc looked like he was heavily considering his personal policy on drinking alcohol because of it. Good times.

You had sailed for days, deftly avoiding the large main islands of Inazuma and raiding hilichurl sea camps for food and materials. The memory of Wanderer laughing his ass off at everyone looking like "drowned rats" because they had to swim to the camps, and getting promptly shut up by Barbara using her Vision to drench him was something you'd never want to forget.

And now, you had finally reached it. A safe little island far and away from the main five islands of Inazuma, and relatively close to the abandoned and forgotten Tsurumi Island. You had plans to maybe try and stay there, considering the fact that its a ghost island at this point. Wanderer and Zhongli had even theorized that the Waypoints there might work, with the mystery and magic that practically oozes from the place. And if not, they could maybe try to use the vast underground systems and ancient knowledge there. Apparently Zhongli still remembered the hours of agony you spent there as him, trying to complete its many lore filled quests,

But now wasn't the time for scheming and planning your next moves. Not the time for wondering what to do and how to stay alive. Not for risking life and limb for merely just existing. Now was the time to simply just rest. To rest and lick your wounds, to recover energy spent and the blood and sweat spilled. To have your deepest thought to be that of what to eat for dinner.

Right now, Barbara was tending to the Wanderer's wounds as Zhongli continued to tend to his bamboo shoot soup that he'd been simmering all day. Diluc had been talking to Zhongli about Venti, and Barbara had gone red with embarrassment when she admitted how she and the other nuns had treated him. Which prompted Wanderer to tease her to hell and back for it saying, "the most devout of them all didn't even realize he was her god?! AHAHAHA, you even have a giant and ACCURATE replica of him outside your church! And you never thought to put the dots together? AHAHAHAHA--"

It was nice.

With the moon high in the sky and bellies full of warm and excruciatingly slow cooked bamboo shoot soup, your tiny little camp fell into a comfortable silence. There was nothing but the breeze, the gentle rustling of the leaves, the crackling of your small fire, and the lapping of the ocean waves.

This too, was nice.

You pull out your lyre and began to strum a simple little tune. Everyone's gaze turns to you as you take a few moments to get it right. You feel yourself begin to sway to the song as your mind fills in the silence of the missing instruments, and you get lost in the beat.

"Castaways, we are castaways,"

You feel yourself break into a smile as you start shimmying to the beat.

"Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways."

Barbara giggles and she begins to clap. Wanderer snorts in fond amusement as everyone listens.

You hand the lyre over to Diluc as you stand. Everyones eyes are on you, rapt with attention as Barbara keeps clapping and Diluc quickly finds the melody. You climb atop your tiny boat stage as the next words leave your lips.

"We're stuck where we are, with no house, no car.

Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways."

"We were out at sea, on a sailing ship,"

You sway and move your arms, almost but not exactly dancing, as you gesture out the lyrics. You quickly wet your hands and with a little splash at your little audience, you keep on singing.

"The rain began to rain, and the wind began to whip-- oh hey--!"

You laugh as Wanderer indeed made the wind start to whip. "Thats for getting me in the eyes." The smile is evident in his voice. You chuckle at him as you dramatically lean against the boat, continuing with your song.

You finally jump off your makeshift stage to join the others on the soft beach sand, dancing your one-man salsa to the strumming of the lyre and the clapping of the beat. Though you certainly aren't dancing alone.

"We felt the ship tip, it was going down.

So we launched our lifeboat, so we wouldn't drown!"

"Castaways, we are castaways,"

Your face brightens into a wide smile, as Barbara joins into the song. You pull her to her feet with a laugh, your lone salsa not so lonely anymore. Everyone sways and claps to the beat, as you keep singing.

"Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways!"

You let go of her hands, letting her copy your movements and preparing for the last few parts of the song.

"On an island at sea,"

Though her singing of the lyrics were a little rushed from the sudden lyric change, you still appreciate it, giving her a smile. You abruptly stop moving, a cheeky little smile on your face.

"Just--"

You quickly point to Barbara standing beside you. She startles with a squeak but quickly understands, once she sees your cheeky face.

"Me,"

You point down the line, the chorus of their voices filling the sea air. Little smiles appear on their faces as it goes down.

"Me,"

"Me,"

Your finger lands on Wanderer, smiles on both your faces. You keep pointing as he stays silent. He raises an eyebrow. "Seriously?" "Yeah, song won't end til you say it." He stays silent for a moment longer, before finally letting you win.

"...Me,"

You burst into smile, pointing your thumb at yourself as you finally finish the song.

"--and me!"

"Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways.!"

With a smile and a flourish, you bow as everyone erupts into cheer and applause. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night!" Diluc hands you back your lyre. "That was a nice song. I really liked it." Your smile turns sheepish as you poof it back into your inventory. "Oh, its nothing-- the vibes, they were just-- y'know?"

As he settles back down onto his log, he says "Still, it was nice." You sit back down on your own log, throwing in a couple twigs to the fire Diluc restarted.

A soft smile graces your face as you poke at the few sticks that made up the fire. "Thanks, you guys. For uhm. Joining in."

You pull your knees to your chest to hide your quickly heating face. "I... really appreciated it..."

Barbara puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Oh, no worries! I had fun!" "I have to agree," Zhongli says with a pleased little hum. "It was quite a pleasant way to spend the time." "It's not the best music I've ever heard but it was certainly better than just sitting here and twiddling our thumbs."

"Oh my gosh," you gasp, dramatically turning your head to him. "did I just get a compliment from THE Wanderer himself?! For real?!?!?" "Ah!-- Tsk." He turns away, adjusting the brim of his hat. "I just tell it as it is, got a problem with that?" "Awh, my little emotionally constipated boy!"

You immediately smother him in a hug, practically pouncing from your seat as you had perfectly anticipated the fact he'd run. "H-Hey! Put me down!" He's like an angry little cat in your arms as he hisses and scratches at you to put him down. "Oh, don't you worry Wanderer, we love and appreciate you too-- AHHHH--"

You started screaming as he ascended into the air, carrying you along with him. And that was how the rest of the evening went-- just a strange group of misfits messing around on a tiny deserted island. The sounds of your mirth heard only by nothing but the breeze, the gentle rustling of the leaves, the crackling of your small fire, and the lapping of the ocean waves. Maybe far into the future, an echoing conch would sing an otherworldly tune by a voice not of this plane.

And maybe, for just these few moments, you can pretend that your little ragtag group is just that-- a ragtag group of friends enjoying a wonderful night on the beach.

For but a few moments, Barbara Pegg-- once deaconess and endlessly devout, now the "brainwashed betrayer"-- is just Barbara, a girl who loves to sing.

Zhongli-- once god, once funeral consultant, once god once again, now "the one who falls endlessly from grace"-- is just Zhongli, an aged man who makes a mean soup despite it taking hours to simmer.

Diluc Ragnvindr-- once the "Uncrowned King of Mondstadt" and master of its wine industry, now the "new Lawrences - the tyrant aristocrat"-- is just Diluc, a stoic and handsome young man whose hands are deft with the lyre.

The Wanderer-- once God-Puppet, once Balladeer, once struck from the annals of history itself, now the "nameless wind fiend"-- is just that, a Wanderer roaming the world with his fellows.

And you-- once person, once player, now "divine deceiver"-- is yourself once again, laughing and singing along with friends.

And even if this beautiful little lie lasted for but a few moments...

It was nice.

---

damn, its been a while since ive written something semi-seriously. hope that my time off hasnt degraded the quality of my writing too much. if it has then eh-- i can just sharpen them again by writing some more :))

life hit me h a r d boi. also time management. yeah. rlly need to fix that.

hope you enjoy :)))

[thenightling]

It's great to see that there are out-right Over the Garden Wall quotes on the Kickstarter page for The Crooked Moon. (They actually quote The Beast's song "Come Wayward souls.")

Kind of funny that Jason Nesbitt person insisted the only thing they had in common was the use of Americana.

Weird that he'd haunt an Over the Garden Wall Facebook group while pretending that Crooked Moon has content from European folklore but Over the Garden Wall Does not. I guess he missed the Faust and Divine Comedy references among other things.

Though he did completely ignore it when I pointed out that they directly quoted the opening narration of Over The Garden Wall with just five words changed.

He seems like the sort of person who would try to insist Adam's Wrath has nothing to do with Frankenstein.

The only thing that bothers me still is that he created this narrative that said something ableist to him and then deleted it for my rebuttal which you can find on my Facebook wall.

1. I don't completely delete replies, I edit to expand on what I'm saying or fix types.

2. How could I have even known he had a disability to be ableist toward him?

3. If you're going to accuse someone of ableism you should PROBABLY make sure they aren't visually impaired first. I'm considered legally blind, though I do see. It's just really poor eyesight.

[cripple-council]

I wanted to know if having extremely bad eyesight due to severe myopia and lazy eyes, but not enough to be considered blind at all, would count as a sensory disability? Thank you

i’d be more comfortable with having someone who’s visually impaired answering this since my vision is not impaired at all. i can only guess. i’m not too well read on lazy eyes & idk what myopia is. so if someone who knows more reads this, please help out! :-)