Micah Graham Young

{Being deaf is only HALF of my superpower. The other half is being able to tell when you’re full of shit} Micah Young Teenage Son of #AstridFinch and #JohnYoung Deaf Can work with any fandom really Single ship Retweet

||will get to more things i owe when on break from RL. Thank you for everyone sending me things. Very appreciated you took the time out to love on my character despite his disability and not caring about it. He loves you and so do I. Thanks for not treating me any different!

@LeaderOfRebels @SwiftlyClever it like punctuation. His eyes don’t leave his as he does it, and when he finishes, he gives one firm nod, lips pressing tight with that no-nonsense kid certainty. That one. The only one.

@LeaderOfRebels @SwiftlyClever that with fingers pressed together, palm out. Then he flicks out his index and pinky, ring and middle tucked in. Next, he curls all fingers into a fist with his thumb resting neatly underneath. And finally, he taps the side of his index finger twice with the other hand, sealing

(Launched himself at him and hugs tightly because he missed him)

@AssertiveCantor gesture his left hand slicing gently through the air in front of him, a subtle diagonal motion that ended with his fingers resting briefly against his opposite shoulder. He looked at her, steady and open. The answer was quiet but clear.

@AssertiveCantor for a beat then pressed lightly against his sternum before pushing outward, as though releasing something gentle and true. His eyes crinkled slightly at the edges, not quite a smile, but close. After a pause, he tilted his head just a little and followed it with one more

Starter for @StormyRefute Astrid stood outside her son Micah’s door, her hand hovering over the doorknob. The hallway was dim, the walls adorned with framed photographs—snapshots of a life filled with both joy and struggle. But Micah’s room held a different kind of silence, one

@LeaderOfRebels The words feel too small for the moment. Too ordinary. I want to ask him: Do you remember Cara? Do you remember what you left behind? Do you remember me? But my hands don’t move. Instead, I look at him and wait.

@LeaderOfRebels back of my opposite fist. Tonight. Then I tap my middle finger to my chin and twist it outward. Lucky. My hands fall to my sides, but my heart’s still up in my throat. I ask with my whole body, my whole face: [You always show up and punch bad guys? Or am I just lucky tonight?]

@LeaderOfRebels The rain splatters against my hoodie as I chase the bank robbers through the narrow alleyways. My heart pounds, and I can practically taste the adrenaline. Being a secret vigilante has its perks, especially when you’re a Tomorrow Person like me—teleporting,