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#using a cane is very helpful for me
puppygirlkat · 11 months
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I think about how I can bend my ankles 90 degrees. I think about how i can stack my fingers and hook them around each other. I think about how I can bend my knees back 20 degrees. I think about how this happens often when I walk. When i stand I have to focus to make sure I am not hypextending my knees. I think about how my knees wobble and buckle.
I went to the store yesterday. I bought nuggets, lunchmeat, ramen, bananas, raspberries, apples, a loaf of soft wheat bread, a loaf of nicer 11 grain bread, lactase enzyme, razors, and two tubes of red matte lip cream. The bag was very heavy for me. 15lbs. My arm was a taut rope spinning freely every time i bumped into the bag. My shoulder was raised high compensating for the weight. It felt as though it could pop out of its socket at any moment. I thought, are limbs supposed to do this? My knees started to wobble towards the end of the trip. I felt as though bones were grinding against each other. I stumbled going up the stairs to my apartment. Inside, I sat down for a few minutes. I put the groceries away. I laid down. My joints burned and ached. I felt thankful I wore tights. I always wear tights when I go out. The thicker and the more they compress my legs the better. I dont feel comfortable without them. I wonder now if this is compensating. I remember when I used to go out walking before I came out. My knees would always hurt a lot. I rarely went out because of it. An unfortunate cycle.
I had to replace my boots recently. The padding had worn thin. I would stand around on the sides of my feet, flexing my ankles back and forth, standing on my soles, standing on the sides. A form of fidgeting.
I walk on my toes sometimes. I often walk up stairs on my toes. I walk around the apartment on my toes, pretending I am wearing 6 inch heels. It feels fun for a period. It feels like it exercises my thighs and calves. Often when I go on walks I stretch out my arms, look at the ground, and walk around on my toes. I pretend I am undergoing a sobriety test. I dont drive. I try to walk as straight as I can. It is difficult. I meander as a sine wave. I pretend I am a bird and flap my arms.
In my old worn out boots my knees would wiggle all over the place. I would hobble down the street. My ankles would bend and curve and twist. I always assumed twisting your ankles meant your foot was facing backwards. My friend told me what it actually means. I thought to myself, I do that all the time though.
I think about how I went to a physical therapist in my mid 20s. She said I have no strength in my gluteous muscles. She showed me exercises. I still remember them. I should do them. Maybe my knees will wobble less. She showed me to lie on my side with my knees bent, and twist my leg and hold it for a couple seconds. I cant remember the angle she said I should do. I can bend it 90 degrees. Sometimes more. I sometimes straighten my knee while my leg is twisted this way and move my leg forward in front of me, feeling the stretch extend further. The physical therapist also showed me strengthening exercises for my leg muscles. I lie flat on my back and lift my legs up and hold for a few seconds. Six reps straight, six reps twisted to the inside, six reps twisted to the outside. I dont know if I exaggerate these angles or not. I cannot feel it unless my leg is twisted at least 70 degrees. I can almost get my leg twisted to 90 degrees this way. I feel if i did these consistently I could get my legs straight up in the air as well while they are twisted. As it stands I can only do about 80 degrees. Almost pointed straight up.
I walk pigeon toed, I have noticed over time. Sometimes I exaggerate it on purpose. I twist my legs inward, lean forward, and walk around pretending I am some kind of strange creature. It is fun. I like to be a little weirdo.
I experience a lot of knee and hip pain. Elbow and shoulder pain. Joint pain in general. I view doing these things as helpful for keeping my muscles toned. Is this what ehlers-danlos syndrome hyperflexibility is like? I wonder. My skin is not super stretchy but it is very soft and i bruise easily. Who knows.
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amnestyliketaz · 1 year
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yeah yeah jfk and whatnot let’s talk about what really matters: DISABLED JOAN
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simptasia · 7 months
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i can tell people around me are uncomfy when i use my cane
and like, dude, it's helping me
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poprockspillage · 1 year
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fuck around(didn’t bring my cane even though i thought about it) and find out(foot pain when i’m standing and hip pain when i’m laying down)
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composeregg · 7 months
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"Fandom-defined appearances and ideas can deviate so much from canon. So many people give Jonathan Sims a cane when he is never said to have mobility issues and in fact does activities that imply he's quite mobile"
I mean, idk about everyone but if I were being chased by a thing that stole my friend's identity and wanted to kill me I could still move pretty damn fast without my cane, I'd just pay for it later.
Also I think having worms dug out of his legs might have some impact on the function of those legs! Just a little!
Jon is also very much the type to ignore all pain he is in and do a ton of things without the cane he should be using, and I see that often. Canes can be preventative, and an aid on the worse days. I think it goes well with his characterization to need a cane but not use it unless he's already pushed himself too far by ignoring his health
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xmcu-fietro · 1 year
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Update on this: I just ordered the cane and some sparkly hula hoop tape for it! I want to get more stuff to decorate it but I’ll do that in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully this ends up being helpful!
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kn11ves · 1 year
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idk what it is with me and women but they just flock to me in my time of need. 5 seconds ive been in a room and they want to tie my shoelaces for me they wanna help me do things they want to give me advice and make sure im okay i what
#i wish i was kdiding#I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH IT!#btw im not talking about like. older women although that also happens to me#im talking about girls my age theyll just go to me like im a helpless baby bird if i need something#its not even my cane either because even when i have to do things without it (like my danza folkorica) they still wanna help me#like im so fr first day i showed up a girl tied my shoelaces TWICE and THEN drove me to my dorm afterwards with the rest of her friends i#mean that was so nice#idk what i activate in them but they always wanna help me out its so particular to me#and like. listen ok today we are learning a dance from sinaloa and to be short about it one of the moves is bending your back really far &#i was doing it wrong and bending badly and i ''nearly fell'' multiple times#except see i would never have fallen bc i have been so used to living without a cane until now that i know how to catch myself and im very#yk. good at not falling so i dont embarass myself#but it LOOKS very much like i am about to fall and at least THREE times the president was like ''oh my god ivan are you okay??''#i spooked her so bad i felt bad😭😭#its bc km always in front when shes teaching bc i wanna see her n others r too scared to be up front#and anyways what i was on about literally i was visibly struggling and EVERYONE IM NOT EXAGERARINF ALL THE GIRLS (well there was only one#other guy there but) STARTED GIVING ME ADVICE AND TRTING TO HELP ME one girl moved all the way accross her spot to mine and help guide me#shes so nice i hesrt her her name is charisma bro imagine your name being CHARM and she is charming :> very nice#it feels weird calling her my friend bc well we r all friends in a sense as we r clubmmates but. U Know#long rant TLDR women love me#dont tell them im afraid of them
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llycaons · 1 year
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related to prev post but there are a lot of older women on my unit who are really affectionate and sweet and call me beautiful and lovebug as nicknames which I honestly really love I think it's adorable but the contrast to that is rly funny bc I hate it when men try to insist I go first through the door if there's someone holding it. an extremely petty thing to get annoyed about but I just don't like being seen as a different type of person and subject to different social rules and I have refused to take that offer before and it always feels slimy when some guy I don't know is like '~ladies first'
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ellecdc · 1 month
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The Ruined Apothecary
Remus Lupin x feisty fem!reader who reconnect after Hogwarts
CW: chronic pain, Remus uses a mobility aid, financial insecurity, fluff/banter
A/N: I think this was a request from @maladaptiveescapism like eons ago about feisty reader who runs into Remus prior to a full moon post Hogwarts and somehow knows what Remus needs unprompted
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Remus hated shopping in Diagon Alley for a number of reasons.
One, he hated running into people from Hogwarts – and the chances of such happening were quite high due to how small the Wizarding community was.
Two, he never could keep track of who was aware of his status as a werewolf and who didn’t, and more importantly, who took issue with his status.
But what he hated most of all was coming to Diagon Alley this close to the full moon on account of the two aforementioned reasons.
Unfortunately, Remus had left it too late to restock his medicine and potions cabinet, and he was out of dittany, valerian root, and pain potions; all things he couldn’t find for himself in the muggle world, and though he knew his friends would be more than happy to run these errands for him, he was tired of relying on them.
So, he put on a beanie and his denim jacket, a pair of ratty old converse and grabbed the cane that Sirius had insisted Remus let him buy for him because “it has moons on it!” and hobbled through Diagon Alley towards the discount Apothecary he hoped wasn’t out of stock of the common post-moon essentials.
“Lupin?” He heard from behind him, causing him to groan internally. 
He could pretend he hadn’t heard them, though, there was still a way out of this.
“Oh, come now, I know you heard me.” He heard the voice again.
So much for that plan.
Remus reluctantly turned towards the voice, only to be accosted by the beautiful image you painted, standing in the middle of Diagon Alley looking exactly like you had at school, but somehow more beautiful.
Remus hated that.
“L/N?” He asked, raising a hand in hello. To Remus’ absolute horror, you began moving towards him.
“Wow, I rarely get to see you around these parts. I’d say that makes me sad, but you and your friends were never a welcome sight back at school.” You jested, looking Remus up and down.
It took everything in him not to try to hide from your piercing gaze.
“Oh, I’m sure you see James and Sirius around enough for the lot of us.”
You laughed at that – Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever heard you laugh; certainly not back in school, and certainly not on account of anything he had said.
“Well, it gets a little boring around these parts sometimes; your lot would help keep some of these tosser shopkeeps on their toes I reckon.” You spat, glaring menacingly at a particular elderly shopkeep - who was very clearly eavesdropping on your conversation - causing them to hastily re-enter their establishment.
“Soddin’ no good Gwendolyn.” You grumbled, still staring daggers towards the offending shop. Remus felt his cheeks flame when his laugh turned into a coughing fit on account of his ribs stretching in preparation for the moon. 
You looked him over once again with a perceptive gaze that made Remus feel like he was standing naked in the middle of Diagon Alley.
He’d had that dream once before; didn’t much care for it.
“Where’re you headed?” You asked then, appearing for all intents and purposes like you were making casual conversation, though Remus knew better. 
“Just running some errands.” He offered noncommittally, and some of that feisty witch he remembered from back in school made an appearance as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Really?” You sneered at him. “I rather thought you were here to work on your tan.”
Remus - the dumb sod - actually looked up at the sky as if wondering if that was a good enough excuse to go by, only to be met with the familiar overcast sky that the UK typically wore.
“What errands, Lupin?” You asked again, and some of that heat from your sarcasm seemed to dissipate from your tone as your gaze turned softer.
“The Apothecary.” Remus admitted, not having the energy nor the patience to lie to you.
Your face grew into a wide grin at that, and he once again tried to remember if he’d ever seen you smile before; certainly not at him.
“Well why didn’t you just say so? I own an Apothecary, you know?” 
And he did know which was why he’d never been before.
He’d never been before because the ingredients he’d procured and the frequency of which he procured them would give away his status to one who didn’t already know it. It was admittedly easier having some middle-aged shopkeep who didn’t know him - and thus didn’t give a thestrals arse about what Remus was - dispense his ingredients than someone who he went to school with.
The other reason he’d never been before was that he was quite certain he’d never be able to afford your prices.
But you were already walking away from him as if you were expecting him to follow.
“It was nice seeing you!” He tried to dismiss you as he turned to walk the other way. 
“Oh, I don’t think so, Lupin.” He heard you call as you turned back towards him. “My shop’s this way.” 
Remus let out a sigh as he stared you down defiantly. 
He didn’t want to go to your shop. He didn’t want you to know what ingredients he needed for the potions and medical care he required every month. He also didn’t want to have to ask you in the end if he could come back and pay for the rest of his tab on payday, nor did he want to empty his wallet in one shop.
But his hip was killing him, his fingers were gripping the handle of his cane painfully, and you were standing there staring at him with your eyes and your looks and your gorgeousness and fucking dammit. 
He’d have to stop by Gringotts on his way out and see if they provide lines of credit. 
Your shop was….absolutely nothing like he expected it to be.
Don’t get him wrong, it definitely looked like a Slytherin owned and operated it, what with its deep jewel-toned walls, dark stained wood shelves, desks, and furniture, and the low-hanging ceiling that saw various plants, dried arrangements, and… crystals? hanging from it. 
“What’s with that face, Lupin?” You asked him from behind the desk, alerting him to the fact that he was standing in the middle of your shop staring at the ceiling with a look of pure discombobulation. 
“Are those…crystals?” He asked as he made his way, albeit slowly, towards your counter. 
You looked up at the ceiling as if noticing them for the first time. “Ah, yes; those would be Pandora’s doing. Something about the wrackspurts or what not, I couldn’t tell you.” You explained flippantly. “She offers tea leaf readings on Saturday’s if you’re interested.”
Remus let out a snort at that, immediately horrified that he just belittled a service that your shop provided. “Oh! I, erm, I mean-”
“Relax, Lupin; I’ve not had my tea leaves read either.” You offered in monotone, looking up and offering him a smirk.
“Not big on divination, I take it?” He asked you then, watching as you set up parchments and twine along your workbench. 
“Not at all; but she was bad for business which was what I was looking for.” 
Remus felt his head tilt at that but you disappeared behind the curtain into a store room before he was able to comment on your word choice. 
Remus leaned heavily against the counter as he made himself busy watching what looked to be a bowtruckle climb through the vines and branches of an ancient looking tree that seemed to make up the majority of the shop's ceiling. 
You reappeared from the back room with an overflowing basket of ingredients, and far more supplies than Remus came here for.
“Oh! I, erm, I only came for dittany, valerian root, and pain potions today.” He offered awkwardly, trying to stand up straighter and wincing when his hip cracked audibly. 
You looked up at him then, clearly fighting off an expression that threatened to take over your face that would give away the fact that you thought Remus quite stupid for explaining, which Remus also noted was a new skill you acquired since your days in school.
“Right…” You offered awkwardly, looking back down at your basket. “I also added some moonseed, powdered moonstone, powdered silver, and some wiggenweld potions.” 
“Moonseed can be used as a salve for your sores, Remus.” Madame Pomfrey explained to him after graduation before he left Hogwarts for the last time. “Do keep some on you at all times, okay? And any ingredients that can be used in pain potions or calming draughts; powdered moonstone, valerian root, and for very deep werewolf injuries, please keep powdered silver on you as well.” He simply smiled at Madame Pomfrey before pecking a kiss to her cheek - his mum away from home and the witch who single handedly ensured Remus’ survival all these years - not bothering to admit to her that he’d likely never be able to afford these ingredients as a lycanthrope.
He didn’t even register that you seemed to know of his lycanthropy nor that you had packaged everything up for him in your parchments and twine, adding sprigs of fluxweed between the knot of twine - for decoration or practical use, Remus wasn’t sure - until you read his total out for him. 
“That’ll be three galleons and 25 knuts, please.” You said simply as you stared at him expectantly.
Three galleons?! The powdered silver should be almost five, alone. 
“That’s not enough.” He pressed quickly, causing one of your eyebrows to raise at him.
“It’s my shop, I get to charge what I feel.”
“I don’t need your charity, L/N.” He spat then, officially losing what little patience he had. Money had always been a sore spot for him, and this was exactly why he didn’t come to your Apothecary; a well-done by Sacred 28 witch like you wouldn’t understand.
“Lupin.” You chided harshly. “Since you’ve never bothered to frequent my shop before, you may not be aware that I had my business passed through the Ministry in partnership with St. Mungo’s as a sliding scale provider, meaning that I only have to charge people what they can afford to pay me. Aside from that, my family has more money than any of my potential future children’s children’s children will know what to do with, so I will tell you again: it is my shop, I get to charge what I feel.” 
Remus’ eyes flit back towards the ceiling without his consent to watch the bowtruckle twirl one of the hanging crystals and chatter happily as it watched the rainbow lights reflecting along the walls.
“Those would be Pandora’s…she offers tea leaf readings on Saturday’s; she was bad for business which was what I was looking for.”
“This was your father’s shop.” Remus concluded, watching your jaw tighten as you gave him a curt nod. “And you…did this?” Remus continued as he gestured to the store vaguely.
“Ruined it, yes.” You confirmed.
“Who said it was ruined?”
You hummed as you looked off into the distance recalling the names of people who said you had destroyed your family’s business. “My entire family, their peers, the business department at the Ministry, Professor Slughorn… the likes.”
You seemed surprised when you returned your gaze to Remus to find him smiling softly at you. 
“Why?” He whispered at you, causing you to smile what appeared to be bashfully. 
“I don’t need to profit off of someone else's struggles.” You said simply, no longer making eye contact with Remus and opting to bag the packages in front of you in order to have something to do with your hands. “I’m in a position to help, so…I feel like I should.”
Remus let out a hum of acknowledgment as he placed his three galleons and 25 knuts on the counter in front of you. 
“Or…” Remus started teasingly as he accepted the brown paper bag you had placed his packages in from your hand. “You’ve gone soft.”
Your face fell then as you stared him down challengingly, though Remus relished in the hint of a smile from your lips. “Get the hells out of my shop, Lupin.”
Remus laughed as he backed away from the counter, his bag and cane in one hand as he pointed at you. “No, no. You’ve made a terrible mistake, L/N. I will be haunting this shop frequently from now on.”
“Stay out of trouble, will you Lupin?” You called back to him as he made it to the door of the shop. 
“You know what? I don’t think I will. Thanks, dove! Next time I’ll stop by with James and Sirius!”
And he couldn’t help the beaming smile that took over his face as he heard your groan some profanity as the door slipped shut behind him. 
Oh yeah, he’d definitely be telling the boys that he found a new Apothecary, and that they should absolutely be investing their families money in it.
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thebibliosphere · 6 days
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Do you have any advice on how to get doctors to listen to you? I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and my parents are only giving me one chance at figuring out what’s why I’m having problems. For reference I’m an afab minor with diagnosed anxiety(I’m worried they’ll dismiss me as overreacting for this) and I can’t stand or sit for extended periods of time without pain and standing give me fatigue + brain fog and I use a cane to walk. No pressure of course, I just don’t have anyone irl to ask
Sorry I didn’t see this sooner, hopefully you see this in time.
If you have time, write down everything you want to bring up so you have a clear list you can refer to in case any jitters make you forget.
Try to rate how these symptoms affect your daily life and what they prevent you from doing. Do not underplay them or minimize what you’re going through.
Note: with some doctors if can sometimes help if you tell them that you want to get better so you can increase productivity and “get back to normal.” It’s ableist and bullshit but it can sometimes really help get them in your corner if you’re worried they might be dismissive or right you off.
I’ve had doctors who were very not keen to run tests change their tune the moment I said, “I just want to get to the bottom of this so I can fix it and go back to work.” (In your case school/extra circular activities)
As soon as they knew I was a good little worker bee, they wanted to help. It’s unfortunate but a lot of doctors feel that way.
If they bring up anxiety or try to dismiss your symptoms because that is in your file, tell them you know what your anxiety feels like but that this feels very different and hasn’t responded to anything you’ve tried to manage your anxiety.
I don’t know your home situation but it doesn’t sound supportive—I’m sorry for that. I know what it’s like to not have your medical needs met as a minor. But please know you can request for your parents not to be in the room with you if that would help.
I wish you all the best and I hope things improve for you soon. Take care 💖
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hotpinkstars · 6 months
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How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!
Have a great day🌚
-> blinded mistakes
synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.
warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...
a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗
w/c -> 1.1k
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-> ayato
ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.
but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.
he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city. 
basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.
you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you. 
but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.
you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.
and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.
“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined. 
“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.
“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly. 
“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”
he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident. 
“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.
“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.
“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.
-> wriothesley
you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity. 
so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.
normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.
he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were. 
you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.
“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!” 
you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone. 
“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk. 
“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh. 
“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.
“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”
you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.
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dccomicsimagines · 1 month
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A Sight for Sore Eyes - Jason Todd x Reader
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Warning - Gun Violence
Requested by Anon - Can I have Jason Todd run into his ex-wife? Maybe the heat is still between them????!!
Author's Note - I finally finished something! Also this is more like an estranged wife than ex. Hope that's okay!
***
"Stay here," you whispered to the maid who was nervously biting her nails. "I'll take the tea in."
"You sure? I hate that man." She looked around the kitchen as if the walls had ears. They did, but you doubt they were listening to you now. Not with the big meeting going on.
"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile to hide the butterflies in your stomach.
She added the last cup. "Thank you." She went to go sit in the corner with her head in her hands. Her face pale.
You understood her fear, trying not to feel it yourself. Touching the necklace around your neck, you pressed it against your collarbone. It took you a moment to gather your courage, but eventually you picked up the tray and headed out of the kitchen doors.
The Falcone residence oozed old wealth and a posh lifestyle. Almost like it wasn't funded by blood money.
You paused by the door and reached up to adjust the red rose pin on your shirt. Something Mario Falcone, the current head of the family after the blood bath that was the Holiday murders twenty years ago, added to all the Falcone servants' uniforms.
As if you needed a mark to prove you worked for Mario. You were literally in his penthouse serving tea.
You tapped the pin three times, hearing the slight beep of the recorder.
A lump formed in your throat as you prayed for any help from some higher power. You took a deep breath and quietly entered the office.
"And you want us to help you how?" Mario said from behind his desk. You walked across the plush Persian rug and set the tray on the desk. He gestured for you to stay. You backed into the far corner and folded your shaking hands behind your back.
The man in the other chair squawked. "I need men." You dared a peek. The Penguin looked older than you last saw him. He had a black eye. You wondered who punched him.
Mario leaned back in his seat, holding his fingers together. "What do you have to offer? I know Batman is breathing down your neck." He pursed his lips. "I'd rather not get that kind of attention."
The Penguin wiped sweat from his brow. You frowned slightly.
Mario motioned for you to pour the tea. You did, keeping your eyes on the floor.
"You see..." The Penguin took the cup of tea before you finished pouring. You stopped the tea just in time to barely miss his hand. He took a loud sip. You eyed him before pouring for Mario.
Mario raised an eyebrow. You added sugar to his tea and started to step back.
"If you don't give me men, I can't stop what they will do to you." The Penguin looked up with such genuine fear. Your heart stopped. From the widening of his eyes, you knew Mario's stopped as well.
"Who's they?" Mario glanced at you. He frowned. You quickly moved back to your place by the far wall.
The Penguin shook his head and dropped his cup. "I've already said too much." You stepped forward and knelt down to pick up the cup. Taking the towel you kept in your pocket out, you dabbed the tea stain.
The Falcones spilled. They were hot headed bunch after Carmine passed.
Although from what you knew of the Penguin, he never spilled. Your gut told you something was very wrong.
"Well, I can't help you." You heard Mario stand up. "Not if all you can give me is veiled threats."
"You don't understand." The Penguin stood up, almost hitting you with his cane. "This is your only chance, boy. Don't be a idiot."
You winced as you heard Mario take a sharp breath.
Glass shattered. You saw tea dripping down the far wall. "What did you call me?!"
Not again. You crawled back and stayed near the wall out of Mario's range.
Mario threw as many objects as his sister, Sophia. Neither had regard for who they might hit with those said objects. You had a cut on your arm to prove it.
"You stupid brat. As dumb as your father!" The Penguin's face flushed. "You just dug your own grave and probably mine."
Suddenly, screams echoed from inside the penthouse. The Penguin's face went white as a sheet. He flopped face first onto Mario's desk, spilling the rest of the tea tray.
You winced as everything shattered. Mario grabbed a gun from his desk drawer.
"(Y/N)." Mario tossed it to you. You caught it. It was heavy in your hands, bringing back old memories. You pushed them away as you swore you heard a gurgle on the other side of the door.
Mario took out another gun, loading it. He moved toward his fireplace. You watched as he pressed three different stones on it. A secret door next to it popped open. "Stay here and defend," Mario ordered.
"What?!" You watched him enter the secret room and shut the door. A lock whirled as it resealed. "Bastard," you mumbled.
You tapped the rose pin. "Help."
No response. You hoped it meant they were on their way. The office door rattled. You ducked into the shadows in the corner of the room.
Another scream echoed through the penthouse. The maid. You swallowed hard. You'd have to get to her.
Suddenly, the office door opened and an animal-like monster fell through. It had long claws, crawling on all fours. It sniffed at the Penguin.
You held your breath. It turned your way. It had an owl-like black mask that reveal part of it's jaw. You could see the bone. Zombie?
It let out a terrible shriek. You flinched. It saw the movement and sprang toward you.
You fired, getting it in the face. It flew back against the wall.
Not wasting a moment, you ran out of the room. Another scream came from the kitchen. You ran toward it, bursting through the door to find two more of the zombies surrounding the terrified maid.
Without hesitation, you shot both. They flew against the kitchen cabinets. You ran for the maid, grabbing her hand and going into the pantry.
She seemed to wake up from her shock to slam the door shut.
"Block it." You pointed your gun at the door. The maid ran, tossing bags of rice against the door. When she ran out, she grabbed everything off the shelves to add to the pile with no logical thought in her mind.
You let yourself feel the nausea in your stomach, the adrenaline shaking your very bones.
"What are those?" The maid whispered, freezing as more gunshots and screams echoed from somewhere else in the penthouse.
"I don't know." You swallowed hard, keeping your gun aimed at the door. "Do you have your phone?"
She nodded. "Should I call the cops?"
You shook your head. "I doubt they'd be much help." You held out your free hand. "Let me call a number I know."
The maid eyed you, but scratches on the door made her toss the phone into your hand. She got behind you, shivering.
You sighed and typed a number you knew by heart. It rang, much to your relief.
Your finger twitched on the trigger. The door began to rattle just as Oracle's voice came through the speaker.
***
Jason punched the last Talon. It spun before collapsing in a heap on the rooftop of the Gotham News building. "All clear here," Jason said, holding back a yawn.
He hadn't slept well. If anyone asked, he claimed it was the new bed, but he knew it was because you were no longer sleeping beside him.
Six months since you left. You hadn't bothered to contact him since walking out the door.
Jason stewed. "Red Hood, meet Batman and Robin at Falcone's penthouse. Talons are overrunning the place," Barbara said through his comm.
"Good riddance." Jason turned to look out over the city. The lights shined on the wet pavement. He took a deep breath of the damp air.
Barbara clicked her tongue. "Jason, (Y/N) is there."
Jason's blood ran cold. Your disappointed face flashed before his eyes. His feet were moving before his mind.
"Keep calm, Jason. I was just on the phone with her." Barbara's voice was faint. Jason grappled off the closest building, flying through the air before grappling to the next.
He didn't realize how fast he was moving until he saw Falcone's building in the distance. His legs burned, arms aching.
Jason couldn't let that disappointment be the last thing he remembered of you.
***
Nothing surprised Bruce much anymore. Years of being Batman had led him to expect the unexpected.
However, today was different.
He and Damian crashed through the skylight of Mario Falcone's penthouse to find a blood bath and several feral Talons.
What caused the Court of Owls to make a direct attack against the Falcone family? Why so many Talons? Why were they taking out everyone?
Questions he had to worry about later. Hopefully, you could shine some light on the subject. If he could find you.
Bruce threw a Talon against the far wall before dodging the blade of another. "Robin, find (Y/N)."
"TT." Damian's huff reached his ears just as the Talon next to Bruce shrieked. Bruce threw an ice grenade at the Talon. It exploded upon impact, freezing the Talon in place.
Damian ran out of the room, cutting down two Talons as he went with his katana.
More Talons crawled out of the vents. Bruce grimaced, catching a knife thrown by one of the Talons.
He let out a slow breath, calculating the best strategy before the far window shattered and a flash of red barreled in. The red took out three Talons from their momentum alone. Gunshots rang out quickly, almost making it impossible to identify them as separate shots.
Bruce's eyes widened. All the Talons fell. "Where's (Y/N)?" The flash of red turned toward Bruce. He finally could make out Red Hood, Jason.
Bruce nodded to the Talons. "That was...helpful."
Jason grunted. "Where is she?!"
"(Y/N)'s camera pinged in what looks to be the kitchen," Oracle said. "I'll lead you there."
Jason charged out of the room. Bruce followed, taking out a Talon hiding in the shadows of the hallway.
He hoped they weren't too late as they passed several fallen Falcone guards.
***
A fraction of the door broke off. A clawed hand reached through. The maid screamed. Everything in you wanted to shoot, but you held yourself back. You had two shots left, had to make them count if Bruce didn't make it in time.
Fuck Bruce for taking so long.
Please don't let Jason fall apart if you died. You doubted he was doing well since you left him, you couldn't imagine what he'd do if you died on a mission for Bruce.
"Grab something to fight with," you told the maid as she clung to the back of your shirt. "Anything."
She didn't listen, muttering prayers under her breath.
More chunks broke off the door. You let out a slow breath.
The first zombie started to crawl through, bending to squeeze through the small hole. You waited until it was halfway through before shooting it in the head.
The maid screamed. She pulled at your shirt. You had to fight to not fall back on her. The zombie went limp.
It blocked the hole, but soon it's body was pulled out and another zombie started to crawl through.
You shot that one in the head. It blocked the hole again, but the whole door started to shake. Scratches on the wood.
The other body was pulled out and just as claws enclosed on the edge of the hole, a shout came from the other room. Your heart skipped a beat. You lifted your hand to prepare to throw the gun.
You heard the slice of a katana followed closely by a remark of how disgusting this whole situation was. A smile pulled at your lips. "I think we're saved," you told the maid. She looked up at you before turning to throw up.
Gross, but you couldn't blame her. You wrinkled your nose and patted her back. "I'm sorry," she coughed. "You're so calm. Are you used to this?"
You bit your lip, wanting to say you married into it. However, all you could do is shake your head. "I'm not used to zombies. Not these kind anyway."
She looked confused, but you focused back on the door. "(Y/N)!" Jason's voice echoed from behind the door as it started to shake even more than before.
You froze. How did Jason get here? Bruce promised he'd keep him out of your mission. "Red?" You asked, raising your gun to throw just in case.
"Open the damn door. It's safe," Jason demanded. A rush of anger filled you.
The maid looked at you with wide eyes. "I thought you said you didn't call the cops."
"I didn't." You didn't look at her, keeping your eyes on the door. "How do I know it's you, Red?"
The irritated sigh that followed confirmed it for you. He did that to you a lot. One of the problems in your marriage actually.
"(Y/N), the area is secure." Damian's snotty voice made your anger cool. "You may exit now."
The maid grabbed your hand as you moved to shove things out of the way. She didn't help you, just squeezed your hand until you thought your bones broke.
You opened the door to find Red Hood flying forward to crush you against him. All the breath left your lungs.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but this time it was for other reasons. Reasons you weren't going to think about for now.
"I'm fine, Red," you whispered to him.
"You better be." Jason pulled away when the maid cleared her throat.
"Robin, guide her to safety," Bruce ordered, nodding to the maid. The maid squeaked at being addressed.
Damian opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Bruce silenced him. "Come along," Damian said, taking the maid's arm.
"(Y/N)?" The maid looked at you wide eyed.
"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile. "Don't worry. Robin will keep you safe."
She bit her lip, but let Robin drag her out of the room.
You looked around the kitchen at the zombie bodies on the floor. The counters were cracked, cupboards pulled down, glass from the dishes covered every surface. Luckily, you were wearing thick shoes.
"Report," Bruce said. You pursed your lips and looked at him. He looked no worse for wear.
Jason tensed. "Wait a minute." He shook his head. You wished you could see his face, but the helmet hid it. "Is this where you were this whole time? You were undercover for him?!" He was glaring at you. You hated when he did that with his helmet on.
"You aren't the only one who can disappear for months," you snapped, narrowing your eyes.
He flinched. "That's low."
"Oh that's low. Isn't it low to not tell your wife that you're running away to space with your ex?" You crossed your arms.
"Enough." Bruce stepped between you and Jason. "Work this out later." He turned toward you, giving Jason his back. "Report."
Jason huffed. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling at the sound. "Mario had a meeting with the Penguin." You tapped your pin. "I recorded it."
"Where are they?" Bruce studied you. You felt touched your sort of father-in-law cared enough to check you for injuries.
"In Mario's office. Penguin fainted once the attack started. The zombies left him alone for the most part." You gestured for them to follow you toward Mario's office.
Jason bullied his way in front of Bruce and next to you. "Talons, not zombies."
You hummed. "So this is the Court of Owls?" You glanced back at Bruce.
"The court has decided to come out of retirement." Bruce frowned. You stepped over a few bodies of Mario's guards. You knew them, but you didn't let yourself feel anything yet.
Jason touched your hand. You allowed yourself to take his hand for a moment before pulling away at doorway to Mario's office.
Penguin was stirring from in front of Mario's desk. Batman went over to him and dragged him up onto the chair.
You went over to Mario's secret door. It was untouched. "Mario is still here," you said.
Jason followed you. "He in a secret room or something?"
"Safe room. Left me out here to defend him." You bit your lip when Jason's head snapped to you. "Stop it."
"Were you his bodyguard?" Jason's shoulder tensed. "Or more?"
You gagged. "No, god. Don't even suggest it." You slapped his arm.
The Penguin squawked awake, blubbering as Bruce interrogated him.
"What am I supposed to think, (Y/N)? You walked out, said you needed space, but then disappeared for six months," Jason growled.
You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. "Now you know what I was thinking when you ran off with Starfire, huh?"
Jason flinched. It didn't feel as satisfying as you wished it did.
You knocked on the hidden door. "Mr. Falcone, it's (Y/N). It's safe to come out."
"Starfire isn't really my ex. We just slept together once," Jason grumbled. You rolled your eyes. He was making the same excuses he did six months ago. Nothing changed.
"Doesn't help your case." You punched his arm to shut him up.
Mario opened the door. He smiled when he saw you, but froze at the sight of Red Hood.
A unmanly shriek came out of Mario. He tried to close the door, but Jason grabbed the corner and ripped it open.
Mario backed into his safe room, eyes wide with terror. Jason followed him in. "(Y/N), did you call this thug? I'll have you burned alive." Mario spat, grabbing a gun and aiming it toward Jason. Jason kept walking toward him unbothered.
"I didn't call him specifically." You leaned against the doorway. The adrenaline was wearing off. Your hands trembled as everything sunk in. "By the way, I quit."
Mario shot Jason in the chest, but it bounced off his armor. You covered your ears. The gun shots echoed loudly in the small room.
Jason knocked the gun out of his hand and picked him up by the front of his shirt. He held him up until his feet were dangling off the ground.
You couldn't help feeling warm from seeing Jason was still as strong as ever.
"You don't threatened her." Jason's voice was colder than ice. "Forget her name, forget her face. She was never in your disgusting presence, do you understand?" Jason brought Mario's face close to his helmet. "Do you?"
"Yes." Mario shook like a leaf. You swore you saw the front of his pants darken.
A hand touched your shoulder. Bruce moved you out of the room. "Watch the Penguin. I want to have a word with Mr. Falcone."
You snorted, stepping out to find the Penguin unconscious on the floor. "What a rough day for you." You nudged his side with your toe as Mario screamed from his safe room. "A rough day for all of us."
You sat down in the chair and crossed your arms. Taking a shaky breath, you tried to keep your emotions locked up, but tears still filled your eyes anyway.
***
"Red Hood, wait outside," Bruce ordered. Jason dropped Mario. Mario crumbled to the floor, blubbering.
"Fine." Jason stomped out. He saw the Penguin unconsciousness on the floor. Worrying his lip, he saw the top of your head as you sat in an armchair facing away from him.
A sniffle came from you. Jason's stomach dropped.
He moved to your side and knelt beside the chair. You recoiled, quickly wiping your face with your hands.
His heart fell slightly. "You okay?"
"I'm tired." You sighed, "This was...a lot."
Jason nodded. He reached out and laid his hand on your knee. You relaxed under his touch. A little hope blossomed in his heart.
Even though he was madder than heck to know you were working for Bruce for six months. That Bruce didn't tell him and you didn't try to contact him at all. That you were with Falcone this whole time.
He still wanted you home. Still wanted you to be his wife, partner in life and beyond.
Bruce stomped out of the safe room. "We need to go. The police are on their way." You jumped up at the sound of his voice. Jason slowly stood, grabbing your hand. You let him.
"I should wait here for the cops," you said softly. Your hand trembled in his.
"Not necessary." Bruce pursed his lips. "I'll give a copy of your video recording to Gordon. It will be enough."
Jason squeezed your hand. "I'm taking her home." He stared at Bruce, daring him to say something.
You looked at him slightly surprised. "Our home?"
"Is there anywhere else, sweetheart?" Jason's voice cracked. He cursed his helmet for hiding what he hoped was the love in his face.
"No." Bruce laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason tensed.
"What do you mean no?" Jason snarled. You squeezed his hand gently.
Bruce stepped closer. "It's best if (Y/N) is kept somewhere safe since she is a witness. You remember what the court does to witnesses." Jason pulled you into his side suddenly, his arm around your waist. You gasped, but relaxed into him.
"Our place is safe." Jason bit his lip. He tried not to think about you being pinned to a wall by Talons, bleeding to death as you screamed his name. A lump formed in his throat.
"It is, but you know the cave is safer." Bruce's lips pursed. "(Y/N) needs to be cleared for any trackers as well."
"He's right." Your voice shook. Jason studied you, noting your trembling lips, widening of your eyes, a sickly pallor overtaking your cheeks.
Jason swallowed hard. "Fine, but I'll take her."
Bruce nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Take the batmobile." He pressed the remote key to the batmobile into Jason's free hand. Jason looked at it before closing his fingers around it.
Jason started to lead you from the room, but you stopped. You pulled away from him. His arm felt empty without you. "Please make sure Mia is safe. She's the maid, she doesn't know anything,"
"She will be safe." Bruce rested his hand on your shoulder. You and Bruce shared a long look. Jason's stomach tightened at the sight. When had you and Bruce became so close? "Now go."
You nodded, quickly using your sleeve to wipe your face. Jason stepped toward you at the sight. You took a deep breath. "(Y/N)," Jason whispered, reaching out to you.
You flinched. "Not now." Brushing his arm away, you walk past him and out the door.
Jason watched you go with a sigh before quickly following you.
"Good luck," Bruce said so softly that Jason almost missed it. It was only the threat of leaving you alone that stopped him from going back in and unleashing his rage onto Bruce.
***
"Thank you, Alfred." You gave him a hug, even though you were only wearing a oversized robe. It did little to protect you from chill of the batcave, but you had to toss your clothes after going through several scans and a bug sweep.
"You're welcome, Miss (Y/N). It is good to have you home." Alfred patted your back before pulling away to look you in the eye. "Now head upstairs. I have clothes waiting in Master Jason's old room." You frowned slightly, but Alfred held up a hand. "And Master Jason knows not to enter unless you give him permission."
You smiled at the thought of Jason being locked out of his old room. "Thank you again." You turned and headed upstairs.
Bruce's study still looked the same. You paused at Bruce's desk as the grandfather clock door swung closed behind you.
The gold frame caught your eye. You traced it with one finger, smiling sadly. It was you and Jason on your wedding day. You were wearing a nice dress you got from Walmart, he in jeans and a button down.
That day had been magical. The beach was warm, sand soft under your feet. Jason had a boyish grin through the whole ceremony.
You shook your head. No point staying in the past now. You left Bruce's study and made your way upstairs.
The manor was quiet. You closed your eyes to enjoy the peace, the safety.
A lump formed in your throat as you remembered the blood, the bodies of people you gotten to know over six months.
Tears burned in your eyes. "Damn it." You covered your face and hurried to Jason's old room.
The room smelled of lemon and fresh laundry. You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar ACDC poster on the wall, the red comforter on the king sized bed. An old pair of pajamas was folded neatly on the bed.
You picked up the pjs and headed into the bathroom.
Turning the water as hot as it could go, you waited to let the steam fill the room before you let yourself grieve.
***
Jason carefully balanced the tray he prepared with one hand and knocked on door with the other. Steam rose from the mug of tea and bowl of soup he had made for you.
He hoped you would accept them. That you would let him in.
A long moment of silence followed his knock. "Come in," you said weakly. He heard the roughness of your voice. His heart ached at the thought you had been crying.
Jason turned the knob and slowly opened the door. You were sitting on the bed, towel draped over your head and his old pjs on. Warmth flooded his gut at the sight.
"I brought you something to eat and drink." He walked past you and set the tray on the side table. You pulled off the towel at his voice, staring at him with a calculated gaze. Your eyes were swollen and red.
"Thanks." Your gaze dropped to his body. Jason couldn't stop himself from blushing. "Did you lose weight?"
"Haven't been eating as much." Jason turned away. He went to stand by the window, looking out at the dark gardens below.
You hummed. He heard you sip from the mug of tea. The silence that fell was thick. Jason almost couldn't breathe.
"I see you are wearing your ring," you whispered.
"And you aren't wearing yours." Jason spun to face you. You cupped the mug in your hands, staring down into it.
"I was undercover, Jason. I couldn't have a wedding ring." You reached for your neck. Jason blinked when you pulled out a simple gold chain necklace with the ring attached. "But I had it on me."
Jason's voice caught in his throat. "Why did you go undercover and not tell me?"
You sighed. "It was only supposed to be for a few weeks. Mario Falcone was doing business in Italy. I came to Bruce and asked him if I could get away, he offered the job."
Jason sank onto the bed next to you, but left a decent distance between you and him. A distance that honestly hurt. "And it turned into six months?"
"I was working as a waitress at a cafe Mario was frequenting there. There was an attempt on his life. I saved him, he hired me on the spot." You sipped your tea. "I was still angry with you, so I took him up on it."
Jason leaned forward on his knees. "So you were being petty? Disappearing because I left you? At least I left you a fucking note."
"You left me a note saying you'll be gone for months in space with Kori." You narrowed your eyes. Jason scowled back at you. "On our anniversary."
"It wasn't our anniversary." Jason stood up and paced in front of you.
"Oh, right. It was the day before." Sarcasm slipped into your tone.
Something snapped inside Jason. "Nothing happened between me and Starfire! We slept together once a long time ago!"
"That's not even the point!" You set your mug back on the tray.
"Then what's the point, (Y/N)?!" Jason threw his arms in the air.
You grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him. Jason caught it easily. "You idiot! Maybe the point was that you didn't tell me in person?! That you didn't even discuss it with me! I'm your wife and you ran off to space without even bothering to check with me!" Tears filled your eyes.
"Fine, it was a mistake not to talk to you about it!" Jason threw the pillow back onto the bed. "But you don't get to just disappear on me! What happens if you died while you were with that bastard Falcone?! You would do that to me?! Leave me to find out from Bruce that you died on his mission!"
"Like you couldn't have died in space and did the same to me! At least I was on earth!" You straightened your shoulders.
Jason towered over you. You glared back at him.
The red faded from his vision. He dropped his shoulders, taking a step away from you. "This isn't getting us anywhere."
You sighed and turned away from him. "We're just going in circles."
Jason studied your back. He closed his eyes and took a soothing slow breath.
Alfred told him once after he started dating you that relationships sometimes meant swallowing your pride. Letting go to move on.
He also said sometimes an apology can fix more than you think.
"I'm sorry." The words left Jason's lips freely. "I messed up. You were right. I should have talked to you about going to space. Even if it wasn't with Kori, I should have discussed it with you."
You peeked over your shoulder at him. "I'm sorry too. I should have gotten a message to you. Let you know where I was and that I was as safe as I could be."
"You shouldn't have left in the first place. How were we supposed to work it out if you weren't here?" Jason grumbled, smiling when you let out a little laugh.
"I guess we're both to blame." You bit your lip. A moment of silence passed between you.
Jason wanted to ask you to come home, be his wife again...but what if that wasn't what you wanted? Maybe you didn't want him anymore? He rocked on his ankles.
"What should we do now?" you asked softly, eyes on the floor.
Jason put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know."
You pursed your lips and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "I don't want to give up on us."
Jason dropped to his knees as if you stole the air out of him. "Sweetheart, I don't want that either." He shuffled until he was knelt in front of you. You took his hands. He frowned at how cold you were, trying to rub warmth into them. "I love you. Always have, always will."
You looked at him with a glimmer of a smile on your lips. "I love you too."
Jason leaned forward. You met him halfway. The kiss shattered any resentment or anger Jason had left inside him. He could only think that you were here, you loved him, you wanted him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck. Jason picked you up, chuckling when you gasped in surprise. He kissed you again as he laid down on the bed with you.
***
You woke to the late afternoon sun shining through the window. Stretching, you felt Jason's callused hand on your bare hip. He squeezed gently before sliding his hand up around your waist to pull you back into him.
He was warm, a human furnace. You rolled over, opening your eyes to take him in.
Jason had dark circles under his eyes, his face thinner than it was before you left. However, he was still the same. You reached up to trace his lips with your thumb.
He mumbled in his sleep. You leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. Jason's eyes opened the moment your lips touched his. He rolled over, pulling you halfway onto his chest.
You laughed, grinning down at him. "Morning, handsome."
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Jason smirked back at you. His fingertips tickled your back slightly. "God, I missed you."
"I missed you too." You rested your chin on his chest, watching him. Jason's hand moved to the back of your neck. You blinked when you felt them touch the clasp of your necklace. "What are you doing?"
Jason undid the clasp and pulled your necklace off. Your wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight. "I want to put your ring back on your finger where it belongs."
Your heart melted. "Okay." You watched him slid the ring off the chain and take your hand. He slipped it on your finger. "I remember you missed my finger a few times during the ceremony."
"Because I was too busy looking at you." Jason sighed, holding up your hand to study your ring. "Beautiful."
Your face burned slightly. "Bruce has the photo on his desk."
Jason hummed. "How did he get a picture?"
"Must have made a copy of the one we gave Alfred." You closed your eyes, turning your head so your ear was pressed against his skin. His heartbeat soothing some of the worry in your belly.
Jason laid a hand in your hair. "Can we promise that if either one of us has to leave for a long mission, that we'll take the other with?"
You opened one eye to look at him. His jaw firm. "You're serious?"
"I am." He looked at you without wavering.
"Okay." You smiled, opening your other eye. "But I doubt I'll go undercover again. It sucked."
Jason hummed. "And space sucked. All the food was terrible and all the alien girls wanted to fuck me, but I told them I was married to the most beautiful woman in the universe who would kicked their asses if they laid a hand on me."
You snorted, kissing his chest. "Charmer." You sobered when you thought about last night. "What are we going to do about the Court of Owls?"
"Well..." Jason groaned, pulling you fully on top of him. You rolled your eyes when you felt how excited he was. "Right now, I think we should celebrate being together."
"You mean celebrate again?" You raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you straddled his hips.
"And maybe again afterward? If you're willing?" Jason smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then once we're completely done celebrating, we can see what intel they found last night."
You couldn't stop yourself from grinning back at him. "Fine." You leaned down to kiss his lips. "I love you."
"And I love you." Jason suddenly flipping you so he was on top. You laughed before you lost yourselves in each other.
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bellflower-goat · 2 years
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>:l
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ravcnism · 3 months
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HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!
STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER
Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.
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# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda
# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??
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Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.
Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”
Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”
“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”
“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”
“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”
Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”
The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”
“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”
“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”
“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”
“Understood.”
With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.
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His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.
"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”
The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.
“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”
“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.
“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”
Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.
The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”
His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.
“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.
He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”
“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”
The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.
He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.
“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”
He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.
“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”
The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”
Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.
Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”
The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”
You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.
“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”
The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.
Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.
But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.
The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.
You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.
You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.
And you did.
Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.
His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.
He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.
“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”
You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.
Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.
Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.
Then you winked.
Shit.
You threw the ball. Ken swung.
But he missed.
The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.
And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.
Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.
Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”
Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.
“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”
This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.
Point.
Pull.
Throw.
Swing.
This time, the ball made contact.
The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.
“Safe!”
The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.
And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.
Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.
Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.
And there'd be the after-party to boot.
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jujutsukatsuki · 7 months
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Pretty Baby || Alastor x Reader || 18+
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I got a request for Alastor with a Female Reader with a praise kink so here i am to abide! I do not support Viv or their actions! || includes: praise kink so MDI!, Fem bodied reader ||
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You sat on the couch in the lobby, a book in hand as you snuggled up in a blanket, Alastor had wandered off to god know's where while you were at the hotel listening to Husk and Angel debate something they saw on tv. The door to the hotel opened and in walked your tall dark and creepy beloved. He walked over and gently used his cane to lift your head, the cold steel made your skin shiver as your eyes met his red ones. "Hello my love, what have you done all day?" You smile as he questions you. "Just read and listen to everyone." You hummed as you stood up and looked up to Alastor's face, his gorgeous grin on his lips. "Good girl. Lets take a walk, go get your coat my love." You shivered at his praise, his smirk got a bit more sinister as he noticed. You dashed up the stairs to change, you put on a dress that resembled something women in Alastor's time when he was alive would wear along with a jacket to go over it. Not like you needed one, hell was hot. "There is my pretty baby." Alastor smiled as he offered his arm to you, you took it as you left out the front door of the hotel. A cold shiver ran up your spine at his words.
"Where are we going Ali?" The nickname was silly, but Alastor loved it. "You'll see my love." He hummed as the two of you walked the streets of hell, demons cowering away from Alastor's presence. Soon enough you noticed the sign that read Cannibal Town. "Aunt Rosies?" You asked Alastor who nodded and walked with you into the shop.
"Alastor you old dog!, and the beautiful Y/n! Still look delicious, sure you dont want to give me a taste? Oh im joking!" Rosie giggled as you let out a small awkward laugh and looked to Alastor who brushed it off. "Darling, why don't you go find a new perfume you like." Alastor smiled and let you walk away. You kept glancing at Rosie and Alastor who passed him a box of sorts. You walked back over to where the two sat. "Alright darling, time to go!" Alastor said as he shoved the box in his pocket. "Oh uh-" You didnt have time to say anything as you were whisked out the door by him. The walk home seemed quiet and longer, once at the hotel, you were taken upstairs to the bedroom you two shared. "Alastor, what-"
The box was pulled from his pocket and he opened it, inside was a necklace that held a small pendent of an A. "Oh Alastor!" You cooed as he clipped the necklace to your neck, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Youre always such a good girl, i figured you were owed a present for all your understanding of my deals and being gone often." You let out a small gasp at his words, his hand still on the back of your neck. He spins you around and grabs your chin. "Good girl." He whispers, letting the radio filter leave his voice. "Alastor.." You mumble and squeeze your thighs together, he was playing a dangerous game. He may be the powerful radio demon with hundreds of souls under his belt, but you. You were the one who was starving for his affection and wouldnt stop until you were satisfied. "What darling? I cant help it. Youre my pretty girl." He guides you to your knees, his red eys staring to your own. "Such a good girl." He pets your hair, his fingers running through your hair. "Now, keep being my pretty, perfect girl and open that pretty mouth of yours." He grinned, it was going to be a very, very long night.
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crowdsourcedgender · 4 months
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My zine, 'Label Coining as an Artform', is finally done! Transcript/Image ID underneath (warning: it's long). Printed version in a reblog.
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[Image ID: A series of pages in a zine. The text is handwritten, and all figures described are simplified stick figures.
Page 1: ‘LABEL COINING as an ARTFORM in large text. Below is the multicolored MOGAI wheel, with three figures taking pieces of the colors and using them for art: sculpting, cutting a piece of paper, and painting. Below is ‘a MOGAI (& LIOM!) zine by Elliot/Hesper aka @ crowdsourcedgender on tumblr. Under the text are five pride flags: aro-spec, veldian, alterhuman, xenoman, and schooldoodlic.
Page 2: ‘Label Coining’ in large pink text. ‘(in this context) is the act of creating a word (and usually flag) for a certain experience!’. Next to this text is a figure filled in with pink with a speech bubble full of pink shapes, talking to someone using a cane holding out a hand and expressing a question mark. Below reads ‘generally a queer experience, but does often include or incorporate disability, neurodivergence etc.’ A figure asks ‘Why?’ and the text reads ‘I would say these are the ‘core tenets’:’. In a cloud next to this text is a blue and purple pride flag with purple text reading: ‘like this cool prosopagnosia flag I made!’.
The bottom half of the page is split into two columns: ‘Understanding’ and ‘Community’. The first column has a purple arm amputee explaining a purple rectangle to another purple person who is thinking ‘that’s me!!’. Next to them another purple person is explaining the same rectangle to a blank person, who has a purple-filled thought bubble with a white exclamation mark. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by question marks: ‘Labels help people understand what they are experiencing, and communicate this to others. It’s easier to explain something when it’s already been written down!” The second column has a purple person holding a purple umbrella. They are waving to a purple person in a wheelchair. A purple person is leading another one to the group. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by connected dots: ‘People can unite under a shared label whether this group is big or small! Whether for practical purposes (like advice) or just for fun, having people like you is nice.
Page 3: ‘And these are just as important as ever! But I’ve noticed what I like to call COINING for the sake of CREATION’. This last phrase is in large, dark and light blue text. Two sun symbols are on either side. Below is the text: ‘Vexillology is very clearly an artform, but label coining has become something more (not to mention that not all new labels have flags!). It’s composed of multiple skills has become more than the sum of its parts. Any art captures an experience, but label coining is much more explicit about it. And not just people’s experience of their identity! Part of the art of label coining is incorporating other concepts too, e.g. Schooldoodlic A gender related to doodling on school work papers and/or your homework. By spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr.’ The text about Schooldoodlic is small and light teal. Next to the text is its flag.
Page 4: ‘Elements of Label Coining’. The text on this page is separated into four green boxes.
‘Naming: Coming up with the actual word can be tricky. Generally, labels with lots of elements get more leeway with length. It’s important to check that a label isn’t already a word as well.’ Next to this text is more rough, dark green text reading ‘Premade suffixes + prefixes help! And latin (for some languages) as it’s possible to intuit meaning!’ Around the text is a few examples: ‘-vesil’ ‘-musica’ ‘an-’ ‘quoi-’
‘Flag making: Also known as vexillology, this is a pretty big deal. It’s also the most fun for me! You develop a really good sense of color from spending so much recoloring the same three stripes.’ Next to the text is 6 versions of the same pride flag, each with slightly different colors, with a 7th final version with a symbol.
‘Symbol making: Most flags don’t have symbols, but they’re good for groups of labels under a certain umbrella, or just if you have a really good idea.’ Next to this is rough, dark green text reading: ‘I drew three semirealistic flowers for a flag and ended up only using one’ with sad face. Under it is a drawing of a daisy, a pink coneflower, and lavender, which is circled.
‘Descriptions/formatting: Explanations can be artistic in their own right, and formatting is fun to mess with: many people have their own style. Make sure it’s accessible: add image IDs and plain text where applicable. There are a lot of good resources online!’ In dark green text is the phrase ‘Accessibility over Aesthetics’ with an image of a key on top and sparkles below.
Underneath the boxes in light green text is ‘Note: in the right context, any of these can be optional!’
Page 5: ‘If it wasn’t clear, I think this is AWESOME’. Awesome is in large text with yellow radiating lines. Underneath is ‘I’m a MOGAI coiner myself (generally) with about 65 coins at time of drawing. Using something I made, I wanted to demonstrate what a label coining might look like!’ Underneath is four versions of the same pride flag as well as a description, with ‘flag!’ ‘stripe meanings (I don’t normally do these)’ ‘symbol’ ‘name’ ‘pre-existing format’ and ‘experience’ labelled. The description reads ‘[Image ID was here] Human non-conforming (HNC). Human non-conforming (HNC, similar to gender non-conforming) is an umbrella label encompassing all identities and subcultures that somehow incorporate nonhuman elements in any way.’
Page 6: ‘The thing I love most about the label coining community is just that- the community! The way coiners and users interact, as well as how coiners can work together, is wonderful. There are 5 large words each with an associated doodle.
‘Requesting’: A figure leaning on forearm crutches has a speech bubble with yellow shapes exploding out of it. Another figure is taking shapes down from the bubble and forming it into a ball.
‘Collecting’: A figure is pulling a yellow cart with a large cloth bag labelled ‘LABELS’. They have stars in their eyes, and are looking at another person who is gesturing to a yellow rectangle.
‘Collaborating’: Two figures, one with orange speech and one with yellow speech and an AAC tablet are discussing, with many shapes and lines intermingling to make a fragmented rectangle.
‘Combining’: A figure in a grey hijab pulls down a lever. They are standing next to a large blender mixing orange and yellow liquids. On either side is bright yellow lightning.
‘Redesiging’: A small star with four radial lines coming out of it becomes more and more complex, indicated by black arrows.
Under the words is the text: ‘I’ve never participated, but there’s this amazing event called: COINFIGHT. Hosted by @ kiruliom on Tumblr. It’s inspired by artfight, and it involves coining labels for other people- but competitive-ish!’ Coinfight is in large, text with a crescent moon with stars at the top right corner, and a star at the bottom left.
Page 7: ‘I don’t think there’s anything like finding a label that finally fits you, or hearing that something you made did that for someone else.’ Under is a figure looking at an orange flower with light lines, then forming elements of the flower into a bubble, then showing an orange rectangle to another figure, with orange tendrils reaching towards them, forming the shape of a heart. Below is the text ‘There are a lot of things like pouring out your heart- or just having fun- while making or collecting label. I coin in the same mind I sketch and color and shade.’ On each side is a pen drawing an orange figure with a red shirt, and a tablet with an orange and red flag. Under this is ‘Label coining is an artform both like and unlike any other, and I’m proud to participate in it. I hope that if you want to, you can join me. And if that’s not your thing- thanks for reading!’ There is a drawing of a figure with dark grey wings holding up two fingers. Next is a ‘<2’ heart and ‘elliot’ as a signature. In smaller text next to these is ‘Thank you to the creators whose work is featured in this zine! Credit on the next page. Remember to keep this wonderful community and artform accessible to all!’
Page 8: ‘Credit’: This section has a pride flag next to each label. ‘Aromantic-spectum, @ theflagarchive on Tumblr. Turian, @ kenochoric on Tumblr. Schooldoodlic, @ spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr. Xenoman, @ ryanyflags on Tumblr. MOGAI symbol, Pride-Flags on DeviantArt. Alterhuman, @ vaestra on Tumblr. (the flag on pg. 4 is Wildflowergender). ‘About making this zine’: ‘I really, really regret handwriting this. Drawing over Helvetica Neue for so long might change my actual handwriting, [more rough:] which looks like this! According to Artstudio Pro, I took 14 hours! I barely planned this before starting, the color wheel theme and the people doodles. /End ID]
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