How To Write Deaf Characters - From A Real Deaf Person’s perspective

Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

Asleep

Part 2 of the “Call Out My Name” series

Inspired by the song “Asleep” by Emily Browning.

Translation: Dorogaya ↠ Dear

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, arm! 2, 3, 4, 5-Stop!”

You abruptly halted your movements. Sweat glided down your skin as you lightly panted.

The Director got up from her seat and approached you, her features stern. She firmly, yet gently grabbed your face and turned it towards her.

“Where is your head right now?” She asked.

Her best student, her brightest most clever student, had nothing to say. Instead, the remains of the phoenix of a woman stared back at her. Empty eyes. Empty heart. As if there was any room for heart in this world.

She missed him.

And they missed their chance.

The Director sighed.

“Take a break, dorogaya.”

You said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

So there the two of you sat in silence. At some point, John’s head nuzzled into your chest and your arms found your way around each other. You brushed your fingers through his onyx locks.

“I’m going to take a shower,” You whispered. “Are you staying?”

He looked up at you, his expression adorably timid.

“Do you want me to?” He asked quietly.

A tiny smile carved on to your face.

“You’ll be safe here. You know they lurk around at night.” You reasoned.

What you wanted to say was ‘Yes. Please stay.’ But that was too forward. You both had a lot of baggage to sort through.

You gently pat his back and stood up. John rose from his knees and up to his full height. The way he towered over your small frame still lit a flame in your depths.

“Make yourself at home.” You offered, turning and making your way to your bathroom.

“And by that, I mean clean up and get some fucking sleep. You look like shit.”

John rolled his eyes.

“Where do you want me to sleep?” He asked.

You shrugged.

“Wherever you want.” You said boldly before quickly encasing yourself in the bathroom and rushing to turn the shower on.

You let out a much needed huff.

“What am I doing?” You whispered to yourself.

Shaking your head and all the nerves off, you hastily stripped out of your clothes, threw your hair up, and entered the shower.

“Just relax,” You breathed as you squeezed a dollop of your favorite body wash onto your lilac loofah. You took your time scrubbing the grime of today’s job off. Nothing too life threatening, just a quick execution of someone who failed to fufill their end of a marker. It was quick, but the blood was expected.

John wasn’t expected though.

Naturally, you wanted to run into his arms. It was your instinct to. But circumstances were different. The both of you were different. His wife died for christ’s sake. He lost the last gift she gave him, his house, and he had just been through the fight of his life. He was a changed man.

When you exited your bathroom, John was passed out on the left side of your queen bed. He had stripped down to his black boxers and black undershirt. His face was now clean, presumably because he discovered your guest bathroom. He had left a generous amount of space for you, it even looked like he fluffed your pillows up a bit. You smiled softly, quietly climbing into bed and making yourself comfortable. The heat of him radiating on to your back gave you a sense of comfort. Your eyes had closed for a couple minutes when you felt him jolt. Thinking it was just a sleep-twitch, you rolled back over and closed your eyes once more. But when he jolted the second time, this time more violently, you quickly shoved the covers off of you and sat up on your knees.

“John.” You said softly as you gently shook him awake.

He only began to thrash more.

You shook him harder.

“John!” You said loudly.

The man next to you shot up, panicked dry heaves left his mouth as his eyes frantically darted across every surface of the room.

“Hey, hey, hey!” You yelped quickly, diverting his attention.

His chocolate eyes focused on you as you placed your hand on his heart, taking his and pplacing it on yours. An old technique the two of you had to calm each other down when you were younger.

“You’re home. You’re okay.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” He panted, placing a hand on top of yours.

“It’s okay,” You assured. “You want to talk about it?”

John sighed and slumped back against the array of pillows.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He admitted quietly.

You stared down at him with a frown on your face. You had never seen him so lost before. John was also sure of himself. Quiet, calculating. He moved in silence. Now he had hit a deadend.

“We could start by getting your dog back.” You offered.

“And how do you plan on doing that, Y/N?” He snarked.

You refrained from rolling your eyes. He was stressed.

“I’m not banned from the Continental, Jonathon. I have my ways.” You argued.

“Enlighten me.” John said, an intense gaze fixated on you.

“I..I have a hunch.” You began. “Winston shot you in the shoulder right? Kept shooting get you to fall off the roof but missed?”

John nodded, intrigued as to where your theory was headed to.

“He doesn’t miss, John. If he wanted you dead, he’d kill you in one shot. The head. And how much of a coincidence is it that you got tossed off right in front of one of the Bowery King’s goons? He knows that hotel more than anyone. Every. Single. Inch.”

“You’re saying he planned this?”

“You were thinking about killing her, were you not? The adjudicator.” You inquired.

John continued to eye you for a few moments before nodding slowly.

“Then Winston’s way was the only way. Get everyone off your back and let the news die down.” You affirmed.

“How are you going to get into the Continental and get my dog without causing a scene, Y/N?” He begged.

John grabbed your hand.

“Without killing yourself for me?”

Your eyes were firey as you stared at your ex lover.

“Because,” You spoke. “I’m the Athena.”

PART 3

Tags: @mikaneonox @magdazwolska

Slytherin x Hufflepuff

- first of all, the slytherin

- the biggest social outcast ever

- that “end of second semester” mood, but all the time

- and the hufflepuff would be the happiest little jelly bean

- they’re the last people anyone expected to get together

- it takes a little time but eventually ppl are so used to it they would actually die if they ever broke up

- slytherin always acts so tough but they cry around hufflepuff

- and hufflepuff is so protective of their slytherin like an angry little hedgehog

- they’re always together, hufflepuff dragging slytherin’s ass to parties and quidditch matches

- “it’ll be fun!”

- “no”

- “please?” *puppy eyes*

- *giving up* “fuck you”

- pillow fights

- eating ice cream and hufflepuff getting a brain freeze and looking so adorable slytherin can feel them self falling for them

- slytherin dropping things on purpose just so they check out hufflepuff

- and hufflepuff knows it

- “[slytherin], I want to take our relationship to the next level”

- “um..”

- “I want to raise a house plant with you!”

- just the most pure, cute relationship ever that no one understands but everyone is jealous of

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesn’t

Batdad & Batdaughter Headcanons

•After her adoption, Bruce enrolls Cass in Gotham Academy, in a special ed program

•On weekends though, she goes to Wayne Enterprises with him and hangs out around the office while he works

•They usually leave early for ice cream and donuts

•They’ve also been working their way through the entire Disney animated film catalog

•Cassandra’s favorite so far is The Great Mouse Detective

•Bruce’s is A Goofy Movie

•On a related note, Cassandra’s favorite princess is Mulan and Bruce’s is Jasmine

•Cassandra managed to convince Bruce to wear a holiday themed outfit during December

•She did this by making one for herself, and refusing to leave the cave unless he matched

•She’s going to do the same for Easter

reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing

Melted Stars, Melted Sea

[arthur curry x you]

author’s note: me, deep in chaos territory atm: hey remember that aquaman thing you wrote over two years ago when you watched the movie ten times in three days? yeah you should post that since you havent posted anything in a While + you watched the snyder cut two times in 24 hours

words: 1370

He found you on the dock, eyes spellbound by the infinite celestial sky above you.

It was common, that he found you like this. Back pressed against sturdy wooden planks, hands tucked behind your head or mimicking the rise and fall of your abdomen. Air, cool from the ocean would caress your face, your hands, your skin - it kept you grounded just enough, so you wouldn’t forget you were still on planet Earth. Your eyes would remain glued to the deep lavender, cobalt blue, and midnight black. They would search the crystalline sprinkles above for familiar shapes, and then shapes you wished to know. You hunted for far off moons or tails of the galaxy and hidden planets you longed to see with your own bright eyes. You imagined what, or who, could be residing in the eerily empty spaces between the glitter in the sky.

Arthur Curry loved that about you.

It was ironic, he thought - his own head was usually down underwater, lost in the darkness below. Yours was tilted up and up and up to see where no human had gone before.

In the middle of your impromptu star-gazing session, soft footfalls on the dock began to bring your mind back down to your own rock in the cosmos. A nudge to your calf brought wandering eyes back down to land.

“Want to go for a drive, Stephen Hawking?”

You smiled at the sky; a grin that could put ethereal moonlight to shame.

“Always,” barely made it past your lips before you were hauled to your feet and into the arms of the Aquaman himself. He pulled you close for a moment, before he took your hand and guided you to the truck idling at the edge of the docks. You tilted your head back one last time; trusted Arthur to catch you if you were about to bite the dust.

You tripped over a rock.

He laughed. You shoved him.

Keep reading

webbed up | peter parker

summary: you’re being a little too bratty for peter’s liking, so he takes a leaf out of spider-man’s book and punishes you the first way that comes to mind.

warnings: smut; swearing, teasing, dirty talk, dom!peter, spitting, use of web-shooters, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

word count: 5,468

—–

Keep reading

Loner (Jim Hopper x Daughter! Reader)

SPOILERS FOR S3. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Summary; Reader is Hoppers older daughter who dies instead of Hopper and Hopper finds a note from the reader after her passing explaining that she knew she was going to die, saving El and Hopper (Slight Billy x reader too)

My birthday party is this Saturday so I will inactive that whole weekend

Caution, this one was completely rushed so its really, really bad

Tagged; @irreplaceable-ecstasy @fraeppuccino @teenwolflover28 @buckysjuicyplums @lcgaf @kyrathekiller @canny1902 @itsfangirlmendes @tellmyselfies @xkotkuu @scarletmeii @krazykatkay456 probably still forgot someone and im sorry

___________________________________________

Dear Dad,

So, I'm not really good at writing letters. I never written a letter like this before, so, I guess that's probably why

We're going to have to fight the Russians, huh? Its funny when I say it out loud, but, thinking about it now, I fear someone might get hurt or, even worse, killed

And I know what youre going to say when you read this letter, 'you are not going to fight the Russians, this is a job left for the adults,'. Well, Dad, I hate to break it to you, but Im an adult now

But, knowing you, you dont count a nineteen year old as an adult. Not in your book. In your book Im still your little girl, who battled cancer like a champ while my sister couldn't. But I am. Im an adult, and its my job to protect Eleven since I couldnt protect Sara

Ive always looked up to you. You taught me how to use a gun at twelve, taught me to fight without a gun at fourteen. Im pretty much like the karate kid now, but with a gun and the Chief of Hawkins as my father

I dont even know why Im writing this letter to begin with. Here I am sitting in Joyce's house while you guys are with a 'dangerous criminal' and Eleven is stopping this big ass monster

Guess I should go help them. Figure out a way to call Steve or Jonathan and meet up with them and do what I do best, fight bad guys

Love, Y/N Hopper

He found it tucked in your jeans. Folding clothes to put in boxes, Jim hears the crumble of the paper and realizes you had forgotten all about the stupid letter

But its all he has left of you. As hes reading it his mind is blurry, emotions jumbled. He would smile at some parts, others he would tear up and remember that you, did, indeed, protect Eleven

Jim knew you were happy now. When Sara died a couple years back and your mother left you with Jim, you became depressed. But knowing you saved not just Eleven but your father, he knew you accomplished your goal in life,

And for once, Jim wasnt pissed at your actions

Your bedroom is empty now. Eleven and Mike are patching the giant hole in the ceiling from the Mindflayer monster (that was fun to explain), while the others picked up furniture and cleaned bits and pieces of the destroyed cabin,

Jim lifts the last box off of your bed, tucking the box into your closet with many more boxes of clothes, items, and old toys,

The note remains clutched in his hand. He doesnt want to let it go. He let you go, not knowing it was your goal to make sure he and El were safe

Jim runs a large hand down his face, heaving a breathy sigh and dropping onto your bed, hand beginning to tremble when it tightened on the paper,

"She wouldnt want you to be like this,"

Jim looks up at a voice. Eleven and Max stood at the door, Maxs lips pressed tight together,

"She wouldnt want you to be like this," Max repeats, Jim nodding his head slowly, looking down at the note,

"I-" Jim inhales deeply, giving Eleven the go to enter the bedroom and sit next to him, sliding her hand into his that didnt have a grip on the letter,

"Y/N loved you," Eleven starts firmly, Jim directing his eyes to hers and watching the young girl smile, "You raised her to be the girl she was. Strong, independent. Her mother and Sara would be proud,"

Jim chuckles, dryly, sniffing away any tears that dared to fall, "She was too independent. She couldnt protect Sara, she knew it was her job to protect you," He hands the letter to Eleven, forcing himself to let it go,

"Billy did, too," Eleven swiftly scans the letter, looking back up at her adoptive father,

"God, they hated each other," Max snorts, Jims lips tugging upwards, "Youd see them glaring at each other or shooting nasty comments at one other,"

"She doesnt play games, thats for sure," Jim chuckles again, softer, "But shes with him now. Maybe this time they'll get along for once,"

Your eyes look over at Billy, his arms crossed and eyebrows raised to you. His eyes flick down to Earth, and you laugh, shaking your head,

"No way Hargrove," You grin, "Not unless you plan to stop smoking any time soon,"

"Not like it can harm me up here," Billy shrugs, looking around the bright, clouded area, "Sucks. My cars not here,"

"You cant go anywhere, dingus," You giggle,

"Dont you want to see California?" Billy questions, and your eyes look down to your father under the clouds, then to Billys extended hand,

Sighing, you take his hand, squeezing, "Lead the way,"