#so it's really hard to tell if my colors are actually as vivid and bright as I think they are

[ghostlyclementine-art]

Hullo Bobby!

[wttcsms]

i can walk you home and practice method acting ; satoru gojo.

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 1.3k   synopsis saying goodbye. content contains hurt/probably no comfort, bittersweet ending, allusion to character death, jjk 236 leak inspired author’s notes gege needs to sleep with both eyes open, no sweet dreams 4 him >:(

“You know, some people consider coffee dates as not real dates,” you point out. “Very cheap—”

“—your coffee was eight dollars, don’t start with me—” 

“—low-effort—”

“—you don’t even wanna know what I just went through before meeting you here—”

“—shows no interest—”

“—I’ve been interested in you since before I even knew you.” 

You pause your half-hearted attempt at teasing him. The truth is, there is nothing cheap, low-effort, or uninteresting about Satoru Gojo. No one has ever held your attention and your affections for as long or as strongly as he does. The world is reduced to nothing more than the cafe the two of you spent a lot of time frequenting beforehand. It’s why everything is in such startling, vivid detail. Some of your best memories are here, and it shows from the warm scent of coffee wafting in the air, and how you got his complicated frozen coffee order just right.

“Smooth. You use that line on all the girls you buy coffee for?” 

“Oh, other girls exist?” Satoru’s bright, cerulean eyes widen in mock surprise. If there’s one thing that your fiance is good at, it’s committing to the bit. No one gets into character as well as he does. 

No one ever will.

Trying to keep your darker thoughts at bay, you try to think of a retort but fall short, settling for, “How can you even be interested in someone before you even know they exist?” 

“Because everyone was boring to me ‘til I met you. All my interest was reserved specifically for you.” He hums. He doesn’t tell you the really sappy stuff he holds inside his heart, like how he thinks his soul knew that it belonged to you and that’s why he could never connect with anyone else. He figures, foolishly, that he still has time to bring it up later.

Later, when he’s not choking on his own blood and lost in the illusion you have shrouded the both of you in.

My beautiful, delusional girl. 

He says it to tease you, but the fondness with which he laces the words in only further proves how completely, utterly whipped he is for you. Somewhere deep inside of him, he’s well aware that he’s in your domain. That he is not sitting inside the cafe he nervously took you to the first time he got the nerve to ask you to hang out. He knows that this is nothing more than a cleverly crafted illusion used to make saying goodbye a lot easier for the two of you. 

Everything is just so vivid. The colors, the scent, you. He knows it’s selfish to want to drag out this process even longer. It must be tiring for you, to have to mentally strain to maintain this realistic illusion while also tricking his mind into ignoring the pain he’s actually in. He can see it in your eyes; the ones that never seem to want to leave his face, almost like you’re scared you’re going to forget him the moment you blink. 

He stretches, fakes a yawn. “It’s getting kinda late, don’t ya think? I should probably head home.” 

“I’ll walk you there.” You say, getting up from your chair. 

“You think a man like me can’t defend himself?” You want to remember Satoru like this: messy hair, eyes brimming with mischief and life, cocky grin. Maybe it’s your heart acting on its own accord, altering reality for your own benefit, but Satoru looks younger in this lighting. Happier. At peace.

“I think you’re the type of man people need to be defended from. It’s my civic duty to make sure you’re not wreaking havoc.” 

You know that time is limited. You know that neither of you really want to acknowledge what’s truly happening. Satoru has to go, and all that he’ll be leaving you behind with is the aftermath. If you try hard enough, you can manipulate your minds into thinking that these seconds are much longer than they actually are, but—

—he deserves to rest. 

That’s why walking him to his front door is an ordeal that lasts a total of two seconds. One blink, and the cafe has vanished. Now, he’s standing in front of his apartment door, still smiling, still bright, still alive. 

“So, you going to invite me in?” You tease him, keeping your tone lighthearted, as if he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you’re truly feeling.

“After just the first date?” He pretends to look offended. “I don’t know what kind of man you take me for, but I don’t let just anyone spend the night, especially only after a coffee non-date.” 

“Fine.” You pretend to contemplate, the smile on your face perhaps the only real thing here. “Will you let me hit on the second date, at least?”

“I’ll think about it.” And then, Satoru cocks his head to the side. “I’ll see you the same time next week?”

You don’t want to think about the real world. In this world, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

You swallow back any sadness; Satoru swallows back any blood. 

“Text me where, and I’ll be there.” You say this, knowing that you would gladly follow Satoru right through the door that beckons for him. He’s smiling, like he knows what you’re thinking about.

“I’ll pick you up when it’s time. But, uh, if I don’t text you back soon, sorry in advance.” He gives you that boyish look of his, the face he always makes when he’s about to make an incredibly stupid joke. “I have a bad habit of ghosting people.” 

A kind of guttural sound leaves your throat; a choked up laugh and a barely concealed sob. Ghosting, really, Satoru?

“It’s okay. I have a bad habit of liking guys that are bad for my health.” 

“If you don’t hear from me, just know that it’s me and not you.” 

“I love being fed cliche lines like this. Tell me some more.” Tell me everything, you want to beg him. Let’s just stand here forever, and you’ll drag out the time, and he can talk for as long as he wants to about anything and everything. 

“Feeling a bit sleepy. The cliche lines will have to wait until next time.” He clears his throat. “Hey, I know we just had our first date—”

“—coffee doesn’t count, you still owe me a real first date.” 

He sticks out his tongue, childishly, at your interruption. “Is it too soon for me to tell you that I love you? I don’t normally move this fast, but I really do love you. Hope this doesn’t scare you away.” 

He could never scare you away.

You should tell him that, but something in his eyes and in his smile let’s you know that he’s already aware.

“Is it too soon for me to tell you that I love you, too?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. Lucky for you, I like crazy girls.”

“Please don’t go to sleep yet, Satoru. You haven’t even walked through the door yet, and I already miss you.” In the illusion you’ve created, you can take away that door from him. It won’t change the truth, but it can certainly prolong the pain that comes with it. You don’t, though. Even if his hand wasn’t already reaching for the doorknob, you would never take the choice away from him.

“Yeah, I have a lasting effect on women, what can I say?” He laughs, but there’s none of his trademark humor woven in it. The world goes quiet. “I’m feeling really tired, [Name]. I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Goodnight, then. Sweet dreams, Satoru.” 

He looks at you. Really looks at you, like he’s trying to embed the memory of your visage on his pupils, to have it so permanently etched in his mind that he’ll still be able to remember you every time he closes his eyes.

“As long as you’re in every single one of them, they will be.” 

He opens the door.

a/n: reader's cursed technique is the ability to use cursed energy to "manipulate" reality; in all actuality, you create illusions, able to trick others into seeing whatever you're crafting. it helps in trapping curses, and letting gojo say goodbye to you without making you look at him choke on his blood

[project-sekai-facts]

the way i only JUST realized that in An's "The Overflowing Feelings" card behind her isn't An's reflection no that is NAGI.....

and im pretty sure there is a bunch more symbolism in it because like. i think nagi is wearing a hospital gown in that card instead of her regular clothes but it is kinda hard to tell

sometimes i see an ask and think "i could make this so much worse" and this is one of those times.

that's not a reflection, that is straight up ghost Nagi. if you notice the grunge texture is actually overlaid over the entire illustration, not just behind the fence. it's not a mirror, it's a fence that separates the living (an) and the dead (nagi). i also like how everything except Nagi on the dead side is blurry even the plants that are right next to her. i can't give an actual explanation because annoyingly this set didn't get a blog post, but my personal interpretation of this is that it's meant to show how Nagi is still close to An even after she's gone (personally I like to connect it to An carrying her memory of Nagi in her heart becase she's clutching her shirt over her heart, but i think you could interpret it as Nagi watching over An from the spirit world too if you want).

i think it could be a hospital gown based on general appearance and the way it ties at the back, but as you said it's hard to tell. it would make some sense though since she died in hospital. but it could just be a generic black dress, since it doesn't look like the hospital clothes she wore in the story. also if you look closely you'll notice her lineart is in a white-grey color which makes her look more ghostly than An.

Also notice how all the other pillars have the red flowers on them (the ones from the gekokujo jacket). I believe these are gerberas, which are sometimes used as funeral flowers. i.e the flowers placed on the other pillars are to say goodbye, but she's actually right there with An.

i think i can still make this worse.

contrast with An's card from Vivid Old Tale. y'know, the one all about her relationship with Nagi and the first time they actually implied that Nagi's dead (they subtly hint at it in BFBY but it was far more obvious in VOT).

This set actually did get a blog post so I can go on about the symbolism. The cards in this set were based on the theme of "warmth and nostalgia", which heavily connects to the event being about An looking back at her childhood and time spent with Nagi, and how much she loves her home.

Sunflowers obviously tie in to that warmth, but they also symbolise positivity, happiness, and hope (the color yellow does as well). These connect with both her dreams in the present and memories of the past.

Also this part of the interview:

The people she loves have seen her grow up and smile compared to when she was a kid and crying after running away. Now while people she loves who have watched her grow up could be her mom or dad, or even Taiga, considering the untrained card...

The person she's smiling at is Nagi.

And that's what makes the LUTF set so fucked up because just LOOK there's so much contrast between them. Sunflowers representing VBS' hope compared to the despair in the LUTF set caused by their defeat to Taiga. The bright colors next to greyscale (and red, which has several different connotations multiple of which are applicable here), how cold the LUTF set is next to the VOT set. An holding flowers in both but in one they're flowers symbolising joy and in one they're flowers symbolising grief. The VOT set is youthful and lively but in the LUTF set everyone is angry, despairing and grieving a life lost.

The fact that the POV in An's VOT card is probably Nagi watching her all grown up (which she never got to do in reality) vs Nagi being dead and separated from An in her LUTF card, not to mention that Nagi is not watching her anymore but instead facing away because she's left An behind (but was she ever really with An in the VOT card in the first place?). An crying in both untraineds but in one she's being comforted by Nagi and in one she's crying because Nagi is gone.

In some ways it's like the VOT set is An's idealistic look at what life will be like when Nagi gets home and the LUTF set is An coming to terms with the reality.

this card fucks me up.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Writing jam - Identity

Fae/yao nie Huaisang wants to paint with mortal memories. Meng can-not-forget-anything-ever Yao is willing to trade away some in exchange for money/medicine/something

He didn't actually have much hope of this working, but his throbbing ribs and left knee were a pointed reminder that nothing else he'd tried had worked either.

Holding the cheap, stolen brush tightly in both hands, he bowed to the pond that was the first source of still water he'd come across since leaving the city and sent out his desperate thoughts.

There was no clap of thunder or bright flash or rush of wind or... anything.

Disappointed despite himself, he straightened and opened his eyes-

-then stumbled back with a yelp when he found glowing pale green eyes staring back into his own from behind a white mask decorated in delicately intricate green and gold designs.

The owner of the eyes and masks laughed at his surprise, and she -He? Between the clothing and the type of mask, it was hard to tell- sounded surprisingly young for a creature with the reputation -he was going with he- he had.

The stranger was smaller than expected as well, almost identical to his own size.

"Well?" the stranger asked, folding his arms as he floated comfortably, almost lazily in the air. "Don't just stand there staring like a cow in a busy road. You're not a cow, you're a fox. So be a fox."

Right. He shook himself out of his shock and quickly started to bow again, but was caught with a hand under his arms.

"No need for that either, fox. Just tell me what you're here to trade for."

He swallowed hard. "This one is Meng Yao. My mother is Meng Shi, one of the workers in The Ornate Fan, a brothel in Yunping. My father is Jin Guangshan, head of the Jin Sect in Lanling."

"Ah. That one."

He raised his head, surprised by the tone of the stranger's voice. Even behind a mask, he could read the disdain there. "You know of my father, gongzi?"

It made sense, really. The supernatural creatures powerful enough to have higher thought would surely know and dislike the cultivators that hunted them. But there was just... something about the way the stranger had scoffed...

"He wants my services, but is too much of a greedy coward to pay for them himself. I haven't appeared to a Jin cultivator in years because most of them turned out to be sent by him."

Those entrancing eyes narrowed. "And what about you, fox? Did he send you as well?"

"In a manner of speaking," Meng Yao replied, not bothering to hide the bitterness he felt now that he knew they were on similar ground. "When my mother grew pregnant with me, he left her a token and a promise that she could call on him if it became necessary. She is too ill to make such a long journey from the brothel, so I did it for her."

"And got kicked out on your fluffy tail."

"Why do you keep- yes, my father had me quite literally thrown out after revealing the token had just been one of many fakes."

It was a long way down the stairs, he didn't say, but the way the stranger looked him over, he could tell it was apparent.

"Well, then. I guess the only question I have is which matters more: saving her or punishing him?"

"Saving her," he replied immediately. "I will find my own way of making him pay."

Green eyes crinkled in amusement. "Oh, I like you, fox. Very well."

The stranger held out a hand, but he hesitated, suddenly a bit self conscious about the poor quality of the brush he'd brought.

"The brush doesn't matter, only the other part."

Right. "What... sort of memories do I have to give you?"

"Whatever you're willing to part with, mostly. People who come for vengeance tend to give me almost all of the memories of the person they hate, but I really only need one."

So... one memory of his mother, plus some assorted others. That was a small price for what he was asking.

"Okay," he said, and handed over the brush.

The stranger took it, then lifted his chin with the fingertips of his other hand.

"Ooh," he breathed in delight. "Such vivid colors you have, fox. I'll be able to make something of very high quality out of you."

He probably should have been terrified by that, but instead the shiver that went up his spine was... not unpleasant.

The bristles of the brush touched his forehead, and his mind automatically brought up a memory of one of the many times he'd watched his mother do her hair and makeup before it was time for her to entertain. It was a mundane memory, but he'd always loved the meticulously elegant way she'd made all the big and small adjustments, slipping on her role like an opera performer.

It faded, first washing out like a painting that had been splashed with water, and then vanishing entirely.

He remembered the cultivational manuals she'd scrimped and saved to buy him, how they'd turned out to be fakes just like his father's promises. The lies written in them and all the hours he'd wasted studying and trying to emulate them faded, but not the awareness of their fraudulence.

It happened again, and then again, and he found it fascinating that the stranger seemed to pick and choose things with such care, leaving the lessons learned, even as he took what had taught them.

When Meng Yao opened his eyes again, he was lying on a soft patch of grass that had sprung up out of nowhere to cushion him, and the sun was just peeking over the trees.

He yawned and sat up to stretch, but before he could start wondering if maybe he'd only dreamed his encounter at dusk, a rolled up scroll floated in front of his face.

"Here's how it works," the stranger said. "You absolutely can't unroll it before you get home. When you arrive, then unroll it and tear off all four edges. Burn them to ash, then mix them into some wine. Hang the scroll over the head of your mother's bed and have her drink the wine. By the next morning, she'll be healthy again."

Those eyes bored into him from behind the mask. "Do. Not. Open it before you get home. Got all that?"

Voice sticking in his throat, he nodded, and the scroll fell into his hands. Clutching it so tightly he was almost afraid he'd crinkle it, he got to his feet and turned to go...

Then stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Do... you ever make visits besides to make deals? Like if a-niang and I were to go lakeside this summer?"

The stranger blinked at him in surprise, evidently caught off guard by the insinuated offer, then laughed. "I haven't before, but perhaps I could. Run home first, fox."

And so he did.

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

this is me officially asking you to infodump/ramble/anything about quinn :)

QUINN AHHHHHHHH MY BELOVED

so so so Quinn is the main character of the third (?) graphic novel in a series I plan to create that takes place in my hometown. Each story has a supernatural twist to it, but with Quinn's story in particular, the twist isn't revealed until Act 7 out of 8 (I could hypothetically make it a more typical three-act story, but the acts would have wildly different lengths if I did.) Feel free to guess what the twist might be having read this whole description!

It's worth noting that I originally conceived this story as a film. It's entirely written as a script; all I have to do is actually draw the panels for the graphic novel. Anyway, if I had decided to make it a film, it would be about an hour and a half long, approximately.

Enough about the actual story. What about Quinn?

So Quinn [Last Name Confidential] is a junior at [High School Name Confidential], and boy, does he have a reputation! Quinn has very apparent undiagnosed ADHD and behavioral problems. I wrote the biggest chunk of the story right after I received my own ADHD diagnosis and I wanted to write a protagonist who thought like me. He's also partially inspired by Holden Caufield from Catcher in the Rye, since I had just read that book when I started writing— and personally, I adored it. One of my favorite classics. I do know it's not everyone's cup of tea, and if you walked away from CITR resenting Holden, a) did we read the same book? and b) Quinn also probably won't be your cup of tea. He's aggressive, he's directionless, and he feels like no one in the world understands him— least of all his family.

His parents are upper-middle class folks with good upbringings (and family histories on both sides of people mysteriously going missing?). His siblings are both on scholarships going to prestigious colleges— his brother has a scholarship for football and his sister has an academic full ride. If it weren't for Quinn, the family would be perfect.

But Quinn! Like I said, major behavioral issues. The inciting incident of the story is Quinn throwing a terracotta pot at another student's head (he does miss, though, because he has terrible aim). He has a criminal record because of his tendency to shoplift candy bars from convenience stores. He only has one friend— and that single friend is his complete opposite. But all this isn't to say that Quinn isn't smart or talented. He's extremely smart and talented, actually, but has a hard time committing to tasks. Like, y'know, me, he has a really hard time doing laundry because he feels the need to check every single tag before he sorts his clothes. He does enjoy repetitive, simple tasks, though, like pulling weeds or other garden chores.

Some other fun facts about him:

He has a GIANT sweet tooth and loves sweets and milk and cream

He has a hard time making choices when given open-ended questions

He thrives in nature

He has very little sense of time

He has a bit of an obsession with counting things

He's left-handed!

On the side of his left hand, there's a white birthmark stretching from his wrist to the knuckle of his pinkie

He's pansexual and doesn't have a super strong relationship with his gender

He is also extremely oblivious and can't tell when people are hitting on him

At the beginning of the story, he looks kind of ugly— not because he is, but because he wears his bangs in front of his eyes so, like, half his face is covered and because he only wears black or other muted, desaturated colors.

His eyes are BRIGHT green

He is a white American, but about 75% of his ancestors were Irish.

He's got black hair and pale, clear skin.

He really looks good in jewel tones (vivid, bright colors) but almost never wears them.

He gets jealous easily

Remember that best friend I mentioned earlier? Quinn is a little in love.

If you're curious, please send more questions about him, his story, or any of my other stories to either this account or my art account, @zodapopz!!

[vynnysvalley]

My Favorite Upgraded Card Art for Every PJSekai Character

I’m bored 

Uhhh spoilers for pjsekai trained card art below

VIRTUAL SINGERS

Hatsune Miku

Nightcord Miku has the prettiest cards 

Idk I like anything winter-themed 

Very cozy with a pretty color scheme 

Kagamine Rin 

Ahhh the sunflowers suit her so well 

Flower girl Rin real 

Her outfit is adorable 

Kagamine Len 

I used to listen to Servant of Evil on repeat 

Angsty art is always a W 

The yellow roses are a really nice touch 

Megurine Luka

You know how hard it was to pick a favorite all of her cards are gorgeous 

I didn’t know I needed gothic Luka until now

I want this aesthetic 

MEIKO 

MEIKO FINALLY GETTING THE JUSTICE SHE DESERVES 

God this card, idk how to describe how it makes me feel other than “warm”?? 

 She knows she’s killing it 

KAITO 

It’s giving angel 

God the lighting /pos 

He looks so ethereal here and it’s so pretty sdfljk I love KAITO 

Leo/need 

Hoshino Ichika 

Serious Ichika >>> 

I’m loving the outfit 

Idk what else to say other than I love this card and Ichika supremacy 

Tenma Saki

I’m gonna be honest I just really like cards with desserts idk why 

I love the little stars on the chair and umbrella 

Saki looks so cute awee 

Mochizuki Honami

HONAMI UNDERRATED 

I love the frame(?) of this card it’s just a really cool touch 

Very pleasing on the eye 

Mochizuki Honami

The megaphone and loudspeakers are so good

The color scheme is very Shiho 

All the instruments around her lsdf genius 

MORE MORE JUMP!

Hanasato Minori 

VERY Minori 

This card feels like it’s telling a story and I love it 

Super addicting to look at 

Kiritani Haruka 

She rlly said “aesthetic Pinterest board” 

I like how it’s tilted a little I think that looks neat 

Her outfit is pretty 

Momoi Airi 

HER HAIR IN THIS CARD AAA

Super cute and def suits Airi 

Again, desserts 

Hinomori Shizuku 

Who gave her the right to have some of the prettiest cards in the game

This card is kinda bright ngl but idc it’s perfect I love the ballroom theme

This outfit >>> 

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Azusawa Kohane 

Kohane cottagecore lesbian real???

Like Rin she looks so pretty with all the sunflowers 

Look at her she’s just taking a stroll and having a good time 

Shiraishi An 

I actually screamed when I saw this card 

Like what the fuck it is so pretty and that DRESS???? 

The angle too everything about this card is [chefs kiss] 

Shinonome Akito 

God the art for this one is amazing 

Idk is he doing a fucking backflip or something I mean go off 

That ribbon thing on his mic makes him look cooler 

Aoyagi Touya

ANGSTTT AHA

Gosh the lighting on this one is perfect 

It’s simple but beautiful 

Wonderland x Showtime!

Tenma Tsukasa 

This event man :(( 

I love him sm the skrunkly he looks so pretty here 

I like how he’s on top of a book and the book is like coming to life 

Otori Emu 

Look at her she’s so silly 

Emu with a giant paint roller is horrifying /lh 

The silly drawings and animal friends aaa cute 

Kusanagi Nene 

It’s giving Mary Poppins 

Her outfit suits her so well sldfkj 

Again I like the tilted angle it’s cool 

Kamishiro Rui 

Steampunk alchemist Rui underrated 

He’s so gender wtf like hand it over 

Cool hat 

Nightcord @ 25:00

Yoisaki Kanade 

It reminds me of Tangled and that’s one of my favorite Disney movies 

Kanade’s dress looks gorgeous also her bangs 

I liked how it’s zoomed out 

Asahina Mafuyu

I LOVE MAFUYU MY #1 KIN 

I have a soft spot for black and white or like discolored(?) cards 

I care her,,, 

Shinonome Ena 

THE COLORING??? /pos 

I love how they tried to make this card look like a painting 

Who needs the Mona Lisa when there’s Ena /j

Akiyama Mizuki 

Idk if there will ever be another Mizuki card that beats this one

This card is just so,,, Mizuki, I mean the aesthetic, the pose, the outfit 

I love them 

[musicjester05]

So I really like listening to Vocaloid and I decided I wanted to make a personal analysis on some of the songs, just for fun!

Quick warning ⚠️ often times Vocaloid song sound amazing but the you watch the music video or read the lyrics and realized the song is actually messed up. That meaning thoughts or acts of suicide, Murder and tons of other stuff.

however today I think there a hidden lines of suicidal thoughts so if you are sensitive to things of that sort I encourage you to keep scrolling.

I’m thinking I could make this a series

“My time” by Bo en , a cover by Kikuo.

Thoughts on the art, an insomniac inside of a dream? Bright vivid colors all around this girl until you get closer to her face where you see black hair hidden beneath the colorful wig, and the girls face appears to be tired and slap happy, perhaps even closing in on insanity.

Lyrics Close your eyes, you’ll be here soon. 1,2,3,4,5 minutes . Sometimes I really want to sleep. But this word…. I can’t. Goodnight…. Goodnight goodnight Close your eyes and you’ll leave this dream. Goodnight goodnight I know that it’s hard to do.• the music starts to warp and the last lyrics begins to shake and wiggle. • After that a bunch of odd sounds are heard like slamming, glass breaking and a air horn.

Goodnight goodnight Close your eyes and you’ll leave this dream. Goodnight goodnight I know that it’s hard to do.

*the music starts to wind down and the colors fade to black.

-Actually thoughts down below 👇

to summarize I believe the song is about a insomniac or perhaps someone who is trying to escape their own reality.

looking at the art itself makes me think it’s a girl trying to cover up her worries or concerns with the colorful hair, but her natural hair color and real thoughts and feelings are slipping through. I believe the girl is in a lot of stress for some reason and just wants to escape somewhere safe, Where is better then your own dreams?

I also believe with the lyrics “Close your eyes and you’ll leave this dream” the dream it speaks of is life itself.

I also believe the girl may have thought if she could just fall asleep forever she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. The lyrics that allude me to this conclusion is “ Sometimes I really want to sleep, But this word… I can’t.” Along with the lyrics “Goodnight goodnight I know it’s hard to do”

I believe the girl decided to overdose on some sleeping pills in order to enter “the next dream” or in reality the afterlife.

Also! If you guys liked this then feel free to use the like button and tell me what song I should analyze next!

[edmturnmeon]

7 Best Film Recipes Saved In My Fujifilm Camera Right Now 2023

It's been quite some time since I've penned down a new blog post. However, recently I've been having some trouble with my camera settings; specifically my Fujifilm X-T4. I had to perform a hard reset, which meant that I had to go back through all my Fujifilm custom settings and carefully handpick the 7 best film recipes to restore to my camera's settings. With the new empty custom settings, selecting my presets has become much more manageable and smoother. This is a different list compared to the previous 2022 list of recipes. I spent a great deal of effort in selecting the best film recipes that could perform reasonably well under varying weather conditions and could be switched with ease through the quick menu feature. Trust me when I say, that I've thoroughly gone through each Fujifilm recipe to provide optimal functioning under different circumstances, ranging from low lighting conditions to sunny days. With these pre-selected film recipes, you can take awesome shots while traveling, for portraits, and for street photography. So, whatever your preferences are, rest assured the best film recipes will elevate your photography game.

Best Film Recipes In My Fujifilm Cameras

By quickly selecting one of the 7 film simulation recipes saved on my Fujifilm X-T4 camera, I can easily switch between frequently changing scenes. Whether shooting urban streets or portraits, all of these stored custom settings come in handy whenever I need them.

1. Fujicolor Superia X-TRA 400

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR One of my favorite Japanese film-look recipes for Fujifilm, I love to shoot using this Superia X-TRA 400 recipe when there is greenery. Whether it's landscapes or taking photos of people, the muted green tone really looks great. Check out more photo results of the pre-wedding photoshoot using this recipe. There are also the correct methods to achieve the tone look by checking out the recipe's custom settings. Works great when there are well-lit places with trees in the background.

2. Nomadic Mood

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR The Nomadic Mood recipe has never left my camera since the day I created it. It was saved on my Fujifilm camera and can be used for almost any situation, from daylight to low-light conditions. This is one of the all-time best Fujifilm recipes and is mostly used by other Fujifilm users as well.Whenever I travel overseas, this recipe never disappoints. This recipe is also featured as one of the best travel recipes for Fujifilm cameras, at the moment. I have this recipe saved in my camera for years now and still shooting with it. Now you know which custom settings are worth storing in your camera.

3. Kodak Ultramax 400

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR Yet another one of the best film recipes that has been stored in my camera all the while is the Kodak Ultramax 400 film recipe, this recipe is sometimes picky with the background locations, it might work and might not. Inspired by the actual film stock, this works well in an urban location with sufficient bright sunlight. Check out the film's custom settings for instructions on how to shoot. This recipe has been stored in my camera since I created it.

4. Timeless Provia

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR When it comes to capturing life's precious memories, the Timeless Provia is great for producing sharp and vivid color tones. This film recipe is able to help capture moments that will stand the test of time, giving you breathtaking images that tell a story.What's more, with the added flexibility to shoot based on your mood of the day, you can experiment with different techniques and settings to create unique, eye-catching photos that truly stand out. Choose the Timeless Provia and discover the power of capturing life's precious moments with stunning visual impact. Add a filter to instantly change the mood to a dreamy look photo.

5. Ethereal Street

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR This is one of the most obsessed and most used Fujifilm recipes for 2023 for ethereal and dreamy photos. To make the most of this recipe, it’s recommended that you pair it with a vintage lens. The combination of this recipe and the vintage lens results in truly stunning images that seem to transport you to another place and time.If you're interested in learning more about this incredible technique, the Ethereal Street recipe offers valuable insights and tips to make sure you get the perfect shot.

6. One for the Road

Fujifilm X-T4, Fujinon XF35mm F2 R WR Travel photography can be unpredictable, and sometimes, your surroundings may not suit a specific color palette in your pictures. In such situations, a black & white film simulation can do wonders and is inspired by Daido Moriyama B&W film era. But what if you don't have the time to mess around with complex settings? That's where the recipe One for the Road comes in handy. This preset can be accessed quickly from your camera's Quick Menu, allowing you to capture stunning Japanese-style black and white photos with ease. The recipe is optimized for travelers who are on the go and need to produce flawless results in any environment. So the next time you're in a hurry and don't want to miss a photo opportunity, don't stress over which settings to use. Simply select the recipe for the Road, and you will be on your way to capturing breathtaking black and white photos in no time.

7. Vision Obscura

Fujifilm X-T4, Asahi Pentax SMC Takumar 45mm f1.4 Tested by professional street photographers, Vision Obscura has been dubbed as one of the top 7 best Fujifilm recipes of all time. The Kodak Vision 250D inspired recipe provides a unique blend of colors and tones that are perfect for street photography. Its cinematic film look brings a distinct mood and atmosphere to photos, making them stand out from the rest. The recipe has been tested and proven by professionals and is highly recommended for those looking to take their Fujifilm photography to the next level.With Vision Obscura, photographers can transform their photos into works of art, capturing and conveying the essence of the streets like never before. Don't just take our word for it, try it yourself and see why Vision Obscura is considered one of the best Fujifilm recipes of all time!

Conclusion

In conclusion, I am delighted to share that my camera holds a treasure trove of the seven best film recipes in 2023 that are sure to take your photography skills to the next level. These recipes have been meticulously crafted, tried, and tested to deliver stunning results and bring your creative vision to life.From capturing vibrant landscapes to documenting intimate moments, Fujifilm recipes offer endless possibilities. In 2023, I can confidently say that these recipes have elevated my photography game and enabled me to unleash my full potential as a photographer.So, if you are looking to expand your repertoire of techniques and add more depth and richness to your images, look no further than the seven best Fujifilm recipes that are saved in my camera right now. Read the full article

[trickstarbrave]

had a dream i was younger and there was an apocalyptic threat. uncreation itself in the form of darkness and swirling tendrils threatened to overtake the world. most people when too close lose their minds, and the lucky few are able to flee for a time, the illusion of safety.

my family was on vacation when it hit. the government tried to say it was natural disasters, but quickly the public was catching on it was more than this. it was something far worse. people were just beginning to panic but many other people were trying to hold it together, in deep denial

i, for some reason, knew about it. what was going on. i knew deep down that it could be stopped. i kept having dreams during evacuations of me in different places.

then i had the most vivid dream (dream paradoxes are a funny concept arent they lmao) where i was a little girl in i wanna say eastern europe??? by all accounts it might not have been actually earth. there was a wise woman and the sky was overcast in the weird colors that signify the uncreation was coming. the wise woman had told us we cant outrun it, we can only wait for our end. running was pointless. many of us had no tools to run even if we wanted to.

i still came to the old woman, crying and asking her how we stop it. she scoffed, and told me there is no stopping it. i kept crying and fell to the ground, dirt in my face, begging for it to stop. that i would do anything to get rid of it. and then she started laughing. i couldnt tell why, i thought she was making fun of me at first, but she quickly had me get up.

“alright then, if you really want to stop it.” she said “i think if anyone can, it would have to be you.” and from my chest she pulled a bright, shining light. the clouds vanished, and the creature made a rumble of discontent.

i quickly learned what id have to to do. and from that dream i woke up.

when i did, the clouds were there now, around us. people were panicking as they had seen the tendrils miles away, in the sky. that they saw people who hadn’t made it, but we were now so close it was hard to outrun it. my grandmother held me close, shaking. the ground was shaking the whole building we were in--i think an abandoned supermarket we hid out in.

i focused my mind, forcing the energy to come. bright light surrounded the building as an inhuman, almost unknowable cry echoed out. tendrils went on the attack, and were struck down with whips of pure light.

its around this time the details started getting fuzzy tho and i woke up :/

[noredinktech]

Custom Focus Rings

Many people who operate their devices with a keyboard need a visual indicator of keyboard focus. Without a visual indicator of which element has focus, it's hard to know what, say, hitting enter might do. Anything might happen!

It's reasonable to think that either the browser or the operating system should be in charge of making sure keyboard focus is perceivable to keyboard users. You might think that it's best for devs not to overwrite focus styles at all. However, if your website is customizing the look of inputs, there's a good chance that the default focus ring won't actually be visible to your users.

This is the situation we found ourselves in at NoRedInk, and what follows is what we did to improve things.

The Problem

Borders

At NoRedInk, both our primary and secondary buttons feature blue (specifically, #0A64FF) borders. On a Mac using Chrome, this particular blue color on the edge of the button essentially makes the default focus rings invisible.

Can you tell the difference between these two pictures? The second one has a focus ring, but if the pictures weren't side by side, there's no way you would know.

Okay, you might be thinking, don't have blue buttons. However, changing the button color, even if it were feasible from a branding standpoint, doesn't necessarily solve the problem. The outline color that's used for the default focus ring depends on the browser stylesheet, the operating system, and user settings.

Personally, I have my macOS accent color set to pink, which results in a focus ring that disappears against NoRedInk's danger button style.

Backgrounds

Even if we could customize all of our buttons, inputs, and components so that the border and the focus ring outline always showed cleanly against each other, we still wouldn't have solved the entire problem.

This is because there's not only the question of the focus indicator showing up against an input to consider: we also need to consider the contrast of the focus indicator against the background color of an input's container.

The importance of taking the background color into account became more apparent to us at NoRedInk when we started working on a redesign of NoRedInk's logged out home page that made heavy use of blue and navy backgrounds.

Some browsers have implemented two-toned focus rings that will show up clearly on different backgrounds, but there are major browsers that haven't.

Here are two screenshots of the same link being actively focused. The first screenshot, taken in Chrome, shows a focus indicator. The second screenshot, taken in Safari, shows only how a focus indicator can become truly and totally indistinguisable from a background.

Problem summary

If we are customizing input styles, we probably also need to make sure that our focus ring (1) has enough contrast with the edge color of the input and (2) has enough contrast with the input's container's background color.

Approach

While we could have customized the focus ring color for every input and background color individually, we worried that having the focus indicator appear differently in different contexts would make it harder for folks to understand the meaning of the indicator.

Consistency in UX is really important for usability in general. We didn't want a user to ever have to hunt for their focus. Keeping the focus indicator colors consistent and vivid helped us achieve this goal, and using a two-tone indicator allowed us to have a familiar look & feel everywhere.

Reducing cognitive load is also important for usability: folks who don't use the keyboard for most of their interactions shouldn't be distracted by a weird, bright ring that follows them around as they interact.

The Accessibility Team's designer, Ben Dansby, crafted a high-contrast two-toned focus ring that would appear only for users whose last interaction with the application indicated that they were keyboard users.

Ben used red (#e70d4f) and white (#ffffff) for the two tones. These colors don't strictly guarantee sufficient contrast for all possible inputs, but it's straightfoward to check that our specific color palette will work well with these specific focus ring colors.

Ellie with elm-charts code that produced the diagram

Learn more about contrast requirements in the WebAIM article "Contrast and Color Accessibility".

Implementation

The two-toned focus ring Ben made used box-shadow to create a red and white outline with gently curved corners:

[ Css.borderRadius (Css.px 4) , Css.property "box-shadow" <| "0 0 0px 3px " ++ toCssString Colors.white ++ ", 0 0 0 6px " ++ toCssString Colors.red ]

We want the focus ring to only show for keyboard users, so we use the :focus-visible pseudoselector when attaching these styles.

However, :focus-visible will result in the focus ring showing for text areas and text inputs regardless of whether the user last used a key for navigation or the mouse for navigation.

We wanted keyboard users' text input focus clearly indicated with the new candy-cane bright indicator alongside our usual subtle blue focus effect.

Blurred text input:

Text input focused by a click:

Text input focused by a key event:

This required a more involved approach, beyond just using :focus-visible and changing the box-shadow.

We needed to keep track of the last event type manually

We needed to not overwrite the box-shadow for text input when showing the focus ring

To accomplish the first of these goals, we stored a custom type type InputMethod = Keyboard | Mouse on the model and used Browser.Events.onKeyDown and Browser.Events.onMouseDown to set the InputMethod. We used different styles based on the InputMethod. Since we didn't want, say, arrow events within a textarea to change the user's InputMethod, we also added some light logic based on the tagName of the event target.

For the second of these goals, we needed to be able to customize focus ring styles for inputs that already had box-shadow styles. This work needed to happen one component at a time.

For example, styles for the text input might be applied as follows:

forKeyboardUsers : List Css.Global.Snippet forKeyboardUsers = [ Css.Global.class "nri-input:focus-visible" [ [ "0 0 0 3px " ++ toCssString Colors.white , "0 0 0 6px " ++ toCssString Colors.red , "inset 0 3px 0 0 " ++ toCssString Colors.glacier ] |> String.join "," |> Css.property "box-shadow" , ... ] , ... ] forMouseUsers : List Css.Global.Snippet forMouseUsers = [ Css.Global.everything [ Css.outline Css.none ] , Css.Global.class "nri-input:focus-visible" [ Css.property "box-shadow" ("inset 0 3px 0 0 " ++ toCssString Colors.glacier) , ... ] , ... ]

Now we have nice focus styles for keyboard users, nice focus styles for mouse users, as well as nice blurred styles! Of course, these are just the styles for our text input. There are lots more components to consider!

This is the kind of change where having a library of example uses of every shared component becomes super useful. Having one view to go to to check all the focus rings makes it straightforward -- although tedious -- to make sure that the focus ring will look great everywhere.

For us, we discovered that we needed a "tight" focus ring as well, where the box shadow is more inset, for cases where the ring would otherwise overlap other important content.

[ Css.borderRadius (Css.px 4) , Css.property "box-shadow" <| "inset 0 0 0 2px " ++ toCssString Colors.white ++ ", 0 0 0 2px " ++ toCssString Colors.red ]

We found also that some of our components already had border radiuses, and changing the border radious to 4px so that the focus ring would be nicely rounded was worse than keeping the initial border radius. This meant more per-component customization!

Removing the outline

You may have noticed that so far, none of the code samples for keyboard styles have actually hidden the default browser outline focus indicator. This is an area where we initially made an error: we naively added outline: none, thinking that our fancy new two-toned box-shadow-based focus ring would suffice.

We were wrong!

We forgot to consider and failed to test cases where users are in OS-based high contrast modes. High contrast modes essentially limit the colors that users are shown -- the mode is not inherently high contrast, since the user can customize the palette that is used -- by removing extraneous styling and forcing styles to match the given palette.

Guess what counts as extraneous? The box-shadow comprising our two-toned focus ring!

And if you set outline: none, the outline will not show in high contrast mode either.

Instead of setting outline: none, we need to change the outline to be transparent for keyboard users: Css.outline3 (Css.px 2) Css.solid Css.transparent. The transparent color will (perhaps surprisingly) be coerced to a real color in high contrast mode.

Summing it up

Customizing the look of a focus indicator can make it more useful for users, but it can take a surprising amount of work to get it just right. This work will be easier if you have a centralized place to see every common focusable element from your application at once. The two-toned focus ring in particular is great if your application has content over many different colored backgrounds, but it will be harder to implement if you commonly use box-shadows to accentuate inputs. Don't forget to consider and test high-contrast mode!

Relevant resources

WCAG 2.1 Understanding Success Criterion 2.4.7: Focus Visible

WCAG 2.1 Technique C4: Creating a two-color focus indicator to ensure sufficient contrast with all components

Tessa Kelly

@t_kelly9

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[luimagines]

Blue hasn't had enough love as of lately,so in honor of the latest update from JoJo about the colors I present to you : This

(this is my first time writing so go easy on me plz)

Blue couldn't see what was so hard about this.

Just do it. He thought to himself

I've dealt with scarier things then this! Come on!! Get it together coward!!"

Lifting both hands up in unison slapping the sides of his face so hard it was bound to leave red hand prints on both sides.

 As he sat there hands to his face staring down at his own reflection in the puddle of water not far from him,knew that deep down insides he was being a bigger baby about this then usual (even if he would never in his life would ever admit it) and despite his valiant efforts to motivate himself, he simply couldn't shake off this...this....This....!

"Uaarrgha!!"

He didn't even know what this was! Was it Fear? Jealousy? Anger? Insecurity? His big Ego? Pride? All of them!?? None of them!??? Who in the goddesses names knows! He sure didn't,but there was one thing he could pin the source of his emotions down to.

He took a deep breath. Head tilted up,back slumped against the wall, eyes shut then exhaled. His hand reached down to pick up the bouque of blue flowers from the ground as he opened his eyes and stood back up straight again. He walked to the edge of the wall and peeked his head partially out to see them.

Y/N

His spouse, his gem,his sweetheart,the rupee to his eye,the love of his life with all the moon and stars above put together was there,sitting with his brothers-or more precisely the versions of himself-or were they more like parts of him?? Either way they were all there, sitting together enjoying a picnic date under a the shade of a tree with the bright warm sun shining down on them, laughing,talking, enjoying the company of each without a care in the world.

The sight of it was almost ethereal.

He knew what to do.

He really truly did.

Then why did he still feel so lost.

He want so badly to be the one to do it (especially on his own as blue) but yet he also wanted to run away and never think about trying this ever again.

There was so much he wanted to do with Y/N as just blue that he never got the chance to since they had started dating but his voice and body always betrayed him.His defensiveness,his aggression,his pride,his anger,he was aware of himself,he was aware how difficult he could be around but he still tries to be better,especially for Y/N.

Whenever he tried to remember himself as "Four" everything seemed much easier between him and Y/N. Whenever "Four" wanted to hold Y/N's hand he would, whenever he wanted to present them a gift he just did it, if he wanted a kiss? He got it! Wanted to hug thier S/O? Call them pet names? Dance with them? Tell them he loved them? To "Four" it was like stomping a twig in half with your foot, effortless.

But for Blue? fighting a herd of monsters on low health alone for him would be less nerve wraking then this.

He still remembers the first time they went out together, well, "they" as in Four and Y/N,not Blue, he remembered how much they fun they seemed to have had on that date,how they once said blue was thier favorite color,(he knew they actually meant "literal" colors but he still liked to have his own interpretation) how amazing they looked that night,how danced for what felt like hours,how thier hands intertwined with his perfectly as they walked through town and how at the end of the night they had....

Blue placed his fingers onto his lips before covering it with full hand as the red in his face became more apparent and real as the fond memories of thier soft lips having touched his became more vivid, remembering the numerous times they did it forehead,on his cheek,on his nose and practically everywhere on his face.

Blue wished to be that, to have that.

The thought of it even happening made his face a dark of red that would rival even the tomato colored having tunic counterpart.

"They're your S/O, idiot,you've dated them long enough to not be this chicken scared to get them flowers!" Blue irritably whispered to himself.

"Shit." He cursed to himself as the sudden realization had just hit him.

But that was the thing ,wasn't it? "Four" has dated Y/N long enough to not be scared to get them flowers, but Blue ? Even if he was still technically the Four who did these stuff with Y/N it still didn't change the fact that this was essentially the first "date" he's ever been on with Y/N as just Blue, (even if the other colors were there too you know,but whatever ig), and in fact with anyone for that matter.

He fell back down on the floor, back pressed against a ruin wall arms on his knees and head down as he placed the flowers down then crossed his arms over his head.

"Fuck, Hylia be damned if this is where my limit of courage is at! Come on! You've got to be joking! I am the Hero of the Four Swords! Hero of Minish and men! Hylia's chosen warrior!This is stupid! Just get it together! This is completely dumb!"

It was stupid,he was stupid,this was stupid, everything was stupid!

"I don't have to do this! I don't have to be here!What was even the point in all this! This idea was a dumb and stupid idea! I shouldn't have ever thought about this! Aarrrgghh!! Screw this!" Picking up the flowers he tossed them to the ground and stomped on them

He should be at the forge getting commissions done! He should be at the knights training ground sharpining his skills! He should be out doing quests for princess Zelda! He should be at Castle town making sure there isn't another monster or pirate attack! Not standing here behind a stupid ruin wall trying to muster up the strength to just give flowers to his own S/O !

This was stupid! This was dumb! He was out of here! He was leaving!

He turned and started to walk the opposite direction of where the group was into the forest stomping and fuming until suddenly-

Part 2 will be coming soon~

(btw don't be afraid to give me some tips and pointers and as well as your opinion on this if you want! Thnx!) 🥰

How... dare you...

This is so cute! BUT THEN YOU HIT ME WITH THAT KIND OF ENDING?!?!?!

[pinkiepiebones]

Do the ghouls have favorite colors?

"We do, but they haven't got human names. We can perceive, ehhhh, 'auras' or 'midichlorians' or whatever you wanna call it. Some of this, these things that are of such a 'oh, how bland, we are all the same' nature to us ghouls are, as I have perhaps said before, hard to quantify in, y'know, speaking words.

"This all being said, I am more than happy to tell you about my band siblings's favourites, if you're so inclined to be listening!

"Mostly, collectively, their favourite colour is the light that comes off of all y'all at the shows. Ehhhhhh... closet visible to humans approximation I can say is, it's like glitter, but alive, and quite vivid, but not painfully bright. A dazzling, pulsing colour! We ghouls cannot, ehh, create it. We only see it in you. So, good job! You're quite lovely.

"Individually, they of course have differing answers. My mountainous drummer sibling, for instance, is quite fond of the colour of a garden just before the leaves breach the surface and breathe in air. I suppose you could call it the colour of anticipation, eheheheehehe... My watery bassist sibling enjoys the colour of the earth just after an overdue rain. The tall lioness enjoys the colour of remembering a joyous moment- I like that one too, it's kinda this, ehehehe, wiggly glowing in the dark thing. The small lioness likes most the colour of snowfall- not the landed stuff so much, but as it falls, there's a woven sort of, ehhh, dance of colours.... Little Sunshine, perhaps most relatably to you all, says the best colour is the one that comes from music. I say that's cheating since music is nearly infinitely colourful, but I guess "every colour" can be favourite, eheheehh. My big strong Aether sibling loves banana yellow. Kidding!! It is actually most a fan of the colours that shadows leave behind- a brief colour, beyond that of shadow itself. Swiss likes the bubbling, poppy colour that electronics give off. And the ghoul some of y'all call 'Dew' or 'Sodo'... neon red, it says. Huh. I ask, "is this a trick? Are you forgetting the colour of thermal updrafts or abandoned houses or graveyards or sunsets or fossils?" No, Sodo says, I just like neon red. So. I still think it's a trick or a joke, but what do I know? Ehehehehehhh."

"My favourite colour is Copi- Papa's eyes. Errr, the right eye. If I cannot choose from that which brings me lovesickness, then I'll choose the colour of a vinyl record when the needle first touches down on the grooves. Ah! A crackling, stirring from slumber sort of shade!! Eheheehehheh.

"I wish very much y'all could someday see the colours we can see. Maybe a hair dye company will get on it first. Some of y'all have really cool hair colours. Ooh, and tattoos! Those two peoples types, maybe they'll concoct something I can look at and say "oh shit, they bottled the colour my boyfriend turns when he is dreaming!" Or, y'know, whatever."

[deadpoetsmuses]

"inspiration". | neil perry, dps.

in which a summer is spent with the poets, with a significant feature of neil perry.

✧ title: "inspiration".

✧ pairing: neil perry x fem!reader.

✧ genre: fluff, with slight mentions of angst.

✧ word count: 2,733.

✧ warnings: written in headcanon format, home life mentions, the reader lives in meeks' grandma's house, knox being a simp for chris.

✦ author’s note: requested by @mybabysweetascanbe! it's kinda funky how i wrote this as a headcanon but it still ended up being my longest fic lmao. also i wrote the poem that neil made for the reader myself so i'm sorry if it's kinda cheesy 🗿 but i hope you all enjoy this one !! don't forget to take care of yourselves guys <3

✎ The summer holidays had always been a time for the poets’ relief.

✎ Their academic year was constantly filled with difficulties for the poets, but it was harder for some when they were home for the summer.

✎ Neil felt as though he couldn’t be himself-- he loved reading and writing even more so than he did with accomplishing any of his parents’ wishes, like heading into medical school. He especially loved to act, and it was rough to keep that concealed around his dictatorial father.

✎ Todd’s older brother would be at home as well, and it was worse enough being in his shadow; but it had gotten worse with every one of his parents’ daily proclamations.

“We were quite disappointed with your grades from last semester, son,” His father reprimanded, looking down on him with stern eyes. “I just don’t understand what’s gotten into you. Your mother and I raised you quite well and you have your brother to guide you along. You know that he’s remarkably intelligent and well accomplished. Why can’t you be more like your brother?”

✎ Charlie and Knox had been just like Neil. The constant pressure that their parents put on them about becoming a banker and a lawyer was daunting; and all they wanted was to simply live as regular teenagers without concern for their future.

✎ Fortunately, Meeks’ grandmother was a woman who had a colossal and motherly love for the poets with a sizable residence in which her grandson’s friends could inhabit during their vacation.

✎ Thus, the poets resided in the Meeks household in the summer before their senior year so as to escape the stress and troubles brought to them in their own homes.

✎ Even though the summer was fleeting and their time was short, the poets found their time to be everlasting when they met the student boarder of the house.

✎ She went by the name of Y/N, which was a name that sounded just as sweet as the lady to whom it was attached.

“Hello, everybody! I’m Y/N!” The girl said, reaching out her hand to shake one of the poets’. Truth be told, it had been quite some time since any one of the boys had been in close contact with a woman; so they found themselves to be quite the martians in the situation. It took a few moments before one of the poets-- Neil Perry-- could offer his hand and shake hers. “I’m Neil! We’re friends of Meeks and his classmates from Welton.” The boy swore that he felt a spark as their fingertips touched, but he tossed the feeling aside; along with the apparition that he saw of a faint glimmer in Y/N’s eyes.

✎ The boys instantly took her in to their little group, and they all fell in love with her personality-- which was a platonic statement of course; but Neil Perry found this to be otherwise as he actually began falling into love with the new girl.

✎ He loved the way she cared for her new friends, the way she projected her personality through the clothes she wore, and all of the little smiles she gave him.

✎ With every beam and twinkle that she delivered, Y/N found herself to be falling for Neil as well.

✎ He provided a feeling for her that made the blacks of her eyes expand and butterflies to quiver inside-- which was the very same one Neil had felt when he first laid his eyes on her.

✎ She had been a fantastic addition to the band of poets, and the boys could not have had it any other way.

Despite the summer coming into fruition, the poets did not fail to meet up in their little cave every once in a while to read poetry, discuss girls, and laugh. The first meeting of that summer was simply like any other. “Guys, what do we think of Y/N?” Meeks questioned. A clamor of answers that ranged between “I think she’s great,” and “Do you think Mrs. Meeks has any more people in her house like Y/N?” echoed in the dark cave. Clearly, the boys had favored Y/N; but certainly not to the point where they’d be infatuated with her. “Yeah, I think she’s nice. She’s really pretty too,” Knox added. “Woah there Knoxious,” Charlie replied, expelling out a chortle. “I don’t think Chris would like to hear that. And besides, she looks more like she’s Neil’s type than yours.” Charlie’s words weren’t incorrect, but it was needless to say that Neil had strongly agreed with that statement.

✎ Over the summer, they would all begin to get to know each other better.

✎ The poets eventually introduced Y/N to the intricate realm of poetry, and she wholeheartedly fell in love with every line that was recited.

✎ They enjoyed every moment of their fleeting time together. Of course, there would be times where the boys would get into small fights and bickers.

✎ Pitts would always be yelling at Charlie for taking an ungodly amount of time in the shower, while Charlie would be yelling back about how Pitts always seemed to inhale the food that Mrs. Meeks provided for them before he himself could even take one bite.

✎ Cameron did his best to do some summer reading at night, but he found it quite hard as his room was beside Knox’s room, and Knox would spend hours on end talking to Chris over the phone.

“Oh, Chris. How do I love thee?” Knox sighed, lacing the telephone cords in between his fingers. “That’s the title of a poem we learned in Mr. Keating’s class. It reminds me of how lovely you are. Of course, she’s not as pretty as you are,” Knox’s giggles not only erupted through the phone; but it travelled through the walls as well, disrupting Cameron from the climax of his novel. “We get it, Knox! You’re a romantic poet! Now why don’t you go tell Chris about how you finished with a D minus in English!”

✎ While all of the little squabbles took place, they hadn’t even noticed the slight change in Neil and Y/N’s behavior.

✎ Y/N seemed to be keeping to herself more often, while Neil appeared to have possessed an undying smile on his face around the poets; particularly in the mornings when everyone gets up early except for him and Y/N.

✎ Little did they know, Y/N’s room had been vacant for the past few days since the arguments began-- which was approximately three weeks after the boys had arrived to the Meeks’ residence; and Neil seemed to be giggling in his room every night when the rest were asleep.

✎ In the duration of those three weeks, Neil had become more familiar with Y/N than any of the other poets had been.

✎ They’d walk along the nearby river every morning, discuss poetry in the late afternoons, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms at night.

“How long have you been living here?” Neil inquired, peering into Y/N’s eyes. His vision didn’t have to stretch too far as his face had only been a breath away from Y/N’s. The pair laid together under the warm covers of Neil’s bed with their legs entangled in one another’s and their hands interlocked, talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. “It’s been two years since Mrs. Meeks took me in,” She replied, gazing over Neil’s chiseled face. “In the whole time I’ve been here, I think you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me,” Y/N added, beaming up at Neil. Hearing her words, Neil slowly leaned his lips onto Y/N’s forehead, giving her an endearing kiss. She too had been the most interesting thing to happen to Neil in a long time.

✎ For each and every day that they were together, Neil wrote love poems.

✎ His poems revolved around his time with Y/N and included detail of all sorts; such as how colors appeared to be more bright and more vivid when he was with her and how lovelier the birds had sounded in the morning during their walks.

"My love,

The luminosity of the golden sun

does not compare to the radiance

of your glowing skin.

In this air full of morning dew,

the most beautiful scent in the air

is still you.

The sounds we hear of the melodious

birds are all because of your presence,

and they sing only for your beauty.

I look into your eyes and I see nature

reflected back at me; but it is much more

pleasant to perceive than if I were to do so

through my own set of eyes.

Though the morning lasts for a mere set of hours,

My fascination for you can go for as long as

this smooth river flows.

✎ Neil felt embarrassed about being so infatuated with Y/N, so he kept his poems hidden for the time being.

✎ Somehow, the boys had failed to notice Neil and Y/N’s constant disappearance.

✎ Although, they’d make little remarks from time to time that ran along the lines of “Ooh, Neil found a muse!” and “Y/N definitely likes somebody here. It’s probably me.”

✎ The last comment came from Charlie, which later earned him a smack on the head from Neil.

✎ So, Neil and Y/N did their best to keep their relationship hidden throughout the summer.

✎ The two were rather domestic in their relationship; they did all of the typical-couple activities that everyone else had done.

✎ To anyone else it would have been rather common to witness, but to them it was simply extraordinary being with one another.

It had been a scenic day at the river that morning. The beauty of the nature surrounding it had been ordinarily pleasing to Y/N; but all of its best qualities were magnified for Neil as his hand was in hers and the only thing he could smell was her fragrance. He had been quite nervous for the entire morning as he promised himself the night before that he would finally gather the courage to say those three magic words he’d been imagining to say for quite some time. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been thinking the same and had been visualizing how she would say it at that moment for the past few hours since. Just when the cascading waters began to relax and the chirping of the birds started to quiet down, the pair stopped on their trail and those three words were finally professed by Neil in a sudden manner while Y/N had spoken the same in a clear and gentle tone. They looked into each other’s eyes, recognizing the same look of love and eventually realizing what was said. As it was acknowledged, the two lovers simply smiled at each other and kept walking along; their hearts now beating on the same rhythm and their minds thinking of nothing but one another.

✎ Time to time, they would go up to the attic and listen to the music from Mrs. Meeks’ old gramophone, caressing one another as they slowly dance along to the lyrics of Ella Fitzgerald’s songs.

✎ Neil would always sneak a flower out of Mrs. Meeks’ rose garden and leave it on Y/N’s bedside table for her to wake up to.

✎ One of Y/N’s ways of communicating her love would be recommending books to Neil that she thinks is encompassed with his personality. Since then, Neil’s library had enlarged to a great extent.

✎ There would also be some occasions where one of them-- mostly Neil-- would get a little cheeky and try to express their love for the other out in the open.

“Eat up, boys! You know there’s plenty more of where that came from, so don’t be afraid to dig in!” Mrs. Meeks endorsed, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. With a jubilant ‘thank you’, everyone at the table promptly began to tuck into the mouthwatering cuisine. The boys soon found themselves distracted with the heavenly taste of Mrs. Meeks’ cooking; and Neil took this opportunity to covertly sneak his right hand onto Y/N’s thigh under the table. A scarlet blush crept its way up to Y/N’s cheek as she sent Neil a glare. Though her eyes expressed the message of “Not here!”, every other signal in her body sent the message of ‘Yes, Please’ to a very triumphant Neil.

✎ The summer inevitably came to an end and the boys were forced to return to Welton, much to their dismay.

✎ They couldn’t stand ending their summer; and they especially couldn’t stand leaving their new friend behind while the rest of them stayed together.

“Oh God, How are we supposed to leave this beautiful girl all alone in this big house?!” Charlie pleaded, theatrically dropping down to his knees and shouting out loud to the heavens. “It’s all just too emotional for us,” Pitts added as he went along with his friend’s act, his head bowing down to the ground in grief as he placed a comforting hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Just take me with her, God! Let me be with Y/N at her all-girls school!”

✎ Despite all of the inconveniences they put upon Y/N, the poets really did leave a mark on her. These boys showed her a new way of life-- she knows what ‘Carpe Diem’ means, and she knows how to seize her days because of them.

✎ Of course, Neil had a harder time coming into terms with their departure more than anyone else.

✎ Leaving the Meeks’ residence meant that he was leaving Y/N, which was something that he hadn’t prepared himself for.

“I’m not ready to leave you,” Neil confessed. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. After the individual hugs and goodbyes Y/N had given to the rest of the poets, the ill-fated time had come when she had to bid her own farewell to her lover. Neil believed that though their time was short and fleeting, it truly had been something special and something that he’ll never forget. Y/N was his first love, his first muse, his first everything; and no amount of riches could ever sum up to the prominence of that. Y/N placed her hand on Neil’s face, stroking away his tears with her thumb as she felt her eyes begin to swell up as well. “I’ll write to you every day, Neil.” Naturally, Y/N was on the brink of tears as well. She couldn’t bear to leave Neil after everything he’s shown her. It feels like she’s known him forever, yet everything felt so new and exciting with him. She loved him too much, and she knows she’ll continue to love him long after.

✎ Neil was afraid that she would forget about what they had soon after she had left, so he decided to give her all of the poems he had written about her.

✎ As her hands clasped the thick set of parchment, the tears she had been trying so hard to conceal had all poured out, staining the paper and her hands.

“Neil… these are beautiful,” She croaked. Her eyes skimmed over every title and date, realizing that there had been a poem for each and every splendid day that they had been together. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. That’s why I wrote these,” Neil corrected. “Everything I love about you is in these poems, and all of the love I have for you is written in each letter. I just don’t want you to forget about me while we’re apart.” The absurdity of Neil’s words made Y/N chuckle softly before she stepped forward and linked her hands around Neil’s neck, reducing the space between their lips. “I love you, Neil. You’re always going to be in my mind and you’ll always have my heart in the little pocket of your Welton blazer.”

✎ Y/N felt truly fortunate to have met Neil. This summer had come as quite a surprise for her-- she did not expect to fall in love so soon and with such an extraordinary person like Neil Perry. He was everything she’d ever looked for and he gave everything she deserved.

✎ Even though the bright days of the summer had ended and the early falling leaves of the autumn was yet to arrive, the change was of no concern as the only thing that mattered was what had been consistent-- and for Y/N and Neil, the thing that stood still for the two of them despite all odds was each other.

dedicated to these lovely people!! @mybabysweetascanbe @disagreeingpoets @catflowerbean @galaxyrhytm @nananostalgic @ughgclden @towriteabetterlife @neilsemeraldsweater @yourpal @willowestelle

[afroafrofuturistfuture]

Switch

Pairing: Deku X OC

Synopsis: Pro Hero!AU, Aged up married folks. Bakugo’s wife is unhappy and Deku saves the night.

CW: 18+ content (minors back up), cursing, a lot of the F word (and Bakugo is barely in it, can you believe), oral (f receiving), little tiny bit of angst I guess, mentions of cheating, cheating

A/N: So I been working up to this for a little minute. And I felt like i just finally needed to go ahead and post my first little piece of fanfic. I felt like i had a decent piece of work that i wanted to share. I didn’t feel like doing a reader fic but I don’t describe this chick too much. I also wanted to turn this into a sexy series but unsure at this point how long it'll be.

((update! The masterlist is here!))

Kaminaga Bakugou just overheard her husband say something that she had suspected for a long time. His voice was low, at least for him, as he told Denki Kaminari about something she believed he didn’t have shame about. If she knew two things about him, it was that he didn’t know how to whisper and he didn’t know how to be ashamed of himself. She knew that it wouldn’t matter if he found out that she heard him or not. But she approached him anyway to tell him she’d be leaving this expansive party commemorating the success of the 1AGENCY. Them and all their classmates worked well together and the idea to open their own hero agency was a stroke of genius. It held the top three heroes in the world and some of the best and smartest sidekicks out there. She wanted to enjoy the success fully but how could she while her marriage to Katsuki seemed to be falling apart?

His usually expressive red eyes looked bored when they met hers when she told him she was leaving. He had no response one way or the other. “I’ll get the valet to get the car,” He said but he made no moves to go anywhere.

“No, no. You should stay. After all, you are number three.  A lot of this is thanks to you.”

He didn’t argue and she kissed him on the cheek.

She walked slowly through the venue. It was decorated in vivid colors. Gold, red, orange, white, green and black was part of every decoration signifying the real faces of the agency. It was beautifully done but it just made her even sadder. This was supposed to be a good night. It was rare for the heroes to get days where they could actually all come together and have a good time. Even though she worked with them and saw them nearly every day, it was refreshing to see them relaxed and happy. Eijirou was happily drunk and singing karaoke with Kyoka while Tsuyu was cheering them on. Yuga was laughing with a drunk Yaomomo discussing different fabrics he would look great in. Tenya and Fumikage seemed to be in a very heated debate the best ways to enjoy a party. Mina was discussing all the different men in her to life to the rapt attention of Toru, Ochaco, Minoru and Ojiro who looked almost jealous. Everyone seemed like their old selves. The only person she really wanted to say goodbye to was standing in the hall off to the side of the front door. There was a professional photographer in there taking photos for keepsakes. After all, getting your picture taken with the number one and two heroes was a hard thing to come by, even if you were friends. Shoto and Izuku posed next to various high end citizens. Shoto smiled his closed mouth smile while Izuku beamed. If he’d been doing it all night, it was hard to say whether his cheeks were starting to hurt or not he would never show it.

“Okay, okay, you guys still owe us a picture.” Hanta shoved his way through the crowd with two grinning heroes, Inasa and Hitoshi. They were laughing and grinning at each other as the boys conceded to their group photos.

She watched as the photographer took candids of the boys and found herself smiling. She also noticed how she admired Izuku’s big smile. He hadn’t changed. Even with everything that had come their way. Everyone and everything that he had lost throughout the years still hadn’t dimmed that bright All Might-styled smile he kept on his handsome face. She didn’t want to leave the party without saying goodbye to him. She hoped that she could even take some of that happiness with her. Once the photographer was done, she made her move.

“Wow, Deku, you look amazing tonight.” She said as she approached. She had been appraising the tailor-made dark green suit that he was wearing. It was velvet, which, though she and Katsuki didn’t consider to be a fancy dress material, suited him. It had to have been courtesy of Creati. She could never say no to him. At least she had highlighted the fit look of his body in it.

“Oh, hey Kaminaga! Thanks,” He looked bashful taking the compliment and immediately redirected her attention. “You actually look amazing. Really beautiful.”

She remembered that even trying to give a girl a compliment used to throw him for a loop. She was glad to see he was past that. “Thank you. It was fun while it lasted though.” She loved the dress that she got made particularly for this event but instead of getting it from Creati like she wanted, Katsuki insisted she go to his personal designer so that they could match like always. The red and gold chiffon dress made her feel brilliant when she first put it on but with the way the night was going, she didn’t anymore.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrowed.

“I’m going home soon. I…don’t feel well.”

“Oh no, what’s wrong? You know what? You don’t need to tell me.” He waved his hands in front of him. “Just make sure that Kacchan takes good care of you.”

“Oh he’s staying here. I’d rather him have his fun.”

Deku started. “What? No. He should go and take care of you. I’ll go talk to him.” He already started to move past her but she grabbed his arm.

It surprised her for a moment to feel the hard muscle under his skin. His body was firm but he didn’t move against her, didn’t wrench away. He let himself be stopped by her.

“Please don’t, Deku.” She gave him a pleading look. “I just want to go home and lay down.”

He stared at her a moment, searching her face and seemed to understand. “Okay. Well then...,” He looked around for a moment thinking. The party was dying down a bit. “Let me take you home.” He looked at her, his freckled face full of sincerity and concern. Her heart ached, feeling like it was swelling with love and appreciation for her friend.

She half-smiled at him. “Did you actually drive or did you, you know, One-For-All your way out here?” Deku was notorious for always training. He refused to take any sort of transportation trying to use his quirk as much as possible to push it as far as possible to gain stamina.

He chuckled, looking bashful again. “I, uh, actually have a car now. Yaomomo and Denki decided that I needed one for nights and situations like this.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Now this I have to see. You can take me home this time, Izuku Midoriya.”

  **************************

“Somehow this is not what I expected but it really suits you.” Of all the possibilities of what type of car that he may have had, a sports car never even crossed Kaminaga’s mind. Once they were inside the sleek dark green vehicle, she could really admire the all black interior and high tech looking dashboard. It was stylish, almost like something Shoto or Katsuki would have. “I like it.”

“You really like it? I had no idea they were getting it. But I guess they knew had I been in on it, I would have had a hard time choosing anything. I never really wanted a car.”

“Doesn’t Ochaco have a car?”

“Yeah, but I never use it.”

“Well this one suits you.” She admired how comfortable he looked driving with one hand. “They chose well. It’s fast, full of power, and very capable handling. Like you.”

“Oh, gee thanks. I’m a brand new car.” He smirked at her quickly.

“It’s a compliment. You’re very reliable and you’re going places.”

He laughed out loud. “Okay, it almost sounds nice when you put it like that.”

They chatted easily all the way up the mountain where Kaminaga and Katsuki lived. It was steep and private, just like Katsuki liked it.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been here.” The house, if you could call it that, was built almost as if it was carved out of the mountain. From the road, aside from one long wall of glass facing out, not much else of the building could be seen. The garage was around the back of the home. As Deku pulled up to it, he realized how much thought was put into the structure of it. They would never get ambushed here.

He stopped just short of the garage and when he put the car in park, the good mood seemed to leave the car. He sighed. “Well, I hope you feel better. Did you want me to walk you in or get you anything?”

“Actually, I would love for us to have a glass of wine before you go.”

He looked unsure. “Oh I don’t know about that. I mean should you even be drinking wine? I wouldn’t want Kacchan to-”

She touched his knee to stop the mumbling bout he was getting into. “Just one drink, Izuku?”

He couldn’t resist. His expression softened as he agreed to come inside.

She led him upstairs to her kitchen and living room area. They ran parallel to each other, the division made clear by the change in flooring from carpet to tile. The living room area was decked out with black furniture, a black marble coffee table and low lighting. The kitchen was also following a mostly black theme with chrome appliances and marble countertops. All of it was spotless as if they never used either rooms. It seemed so cold and perfect.

“This is a nice home. Did you design it?” He spoke carefully.

Kaminaga was reaching for a wine bottle and two glasses from one of the many cabinets. She chuckled to herself as she set everything on the black marble island. “Does it look like I did?” She met his eye.

Deku cleared his throat. He was lingering around the living room area, nearly afraid to disturb the peace of it. “Mind if I sit?”

She laughed as she poured. “That’s what they’re for. I know it doesn’t really look like they’ve ever been used but I assure you, you can sit down.”

He sat down gently and settled himself into one far side of the couch. It was soft but he wouldn’t relax. Finally, she joined him handing him his glass.

“So what made you ask about the design of the house?”

“Oh, I just never pictured you in a home so…cold I guess.”

Neither did she, she thought as she took a sip. Katsuki used to be warm…She shook her head a bit to shake off the thoughts. “I mean it’s obvious who designed this place.” She laughed. “I was just happy to be sharing a home. I might’ve picked out some things but he always picked the finish. Always.” She sighed looking far off again.

Deku sipped on his wine. “I know he can be a bit overbearing and-”

“Selfish?” She smirked at him.

Deku eyed her carefully. “Yeah I guess so.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been married to him long enough to realize how he can be.”

“As long as he’s still making you happy though.” He paused for a beat. “Right?” He asked as if he’d been watching her. And maybe he had. Maybe he really did see all the things she tried to hide. Maybe he could see that his friends, who used to spend all their free time together, were suddenly becoming more and more distant.

She really thought about his question and the longer she stared into his big well-meaning eyes, the less she wanted to hide the truth. She gulped down some wine. “I think he’s cheating on me.” She couldn’t look at him after his face fell. “Don’t get me wrong, being married to him has it perks but…”

“Kami,” He spoke so seriously, it shook her but she still wouldn’t meet his eye. “Kami, hey! Are you serious? That’s not okay!” She forgot how passionate he could be.

“There’s nothing I can do, Deku! He’s got an image to protect that’s already fragile. People still remember him in high school. And until people trust him as a man of the people, I can’t ruin that image. No matter how much it hurts. He’s still my friend despite everything else.” She hated to admit it but it had been weighing on her for a while. “That’s why I was leaving the party early. I heard something that I didn’t want to hear and I didn’t want to have to pretend it was okay tonight.” She sagged back against the couch.

Deku let out a heavy sigh. “I wish he wasn’t hurting you though.”

She shrugged. “He doesn’t throw it in my face. He still acts like a husband at least. I mean we’ve been growing apart for a while now. Just the natural turn of things I guess.”

He sighs again. “I wish I had been more honest back in school.”

Her eyebrows fell together as she looked at him. “What do you mean? When?”

He looked tense. “Remember when Kacchan first decided to ask you out at the graduation party?”

She nodded, still dumbfounded. She stared at his profile because now he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“Kacchan being Kacchan told everyone his plan. They all goaded him on of course. Except me. Because I thought about the same thing, asking you out. I was too scared, especially after hearing his plan even though I knew when he was going to do it. I just couldn’t go against him. I was scared of what he might to do. And scared of what you’d say. But now it seems like everything in my life is determined to make me understand how much of a mistake that was.”

“Deku,” Her heart was pounding in her ears. He had wanted to ask her out? She never really had a chance to think about that. Her heart was so set on Katsuki. When he did ask her out she asked him what took him so long. “What do you mean?”

He sighed once more finally meeting her eyes.  “I think Ochaco has been cheating on me too.”

Her heart ached for him but not as much as she might’ve thought. Selfishly, she found herself wanting to believe it was true. “How do you know?”

“She’s been different. Distant. She takes phone calls in other rooms and keeps her phone on her always. She won’t let me touch it, even to hand it to her. Her trips are longer. It’s been a few months of this.”

“I’m sorry Deku. That’s how Katsuki has been too. I don’t know how we got here. We used to be in love. Now I feel like an obligation.”

“It’s the same for me. It’s like we’re just friends again. I think she’s bored with me. It’s okay.” He looked away again.

“No, it isn’t,” She leaned forward trying to catch his eye. “Anyway, I couldn’t imagine someone being bored with you. You’re fun in your way. Although, I think I also bore Katsuki now.”

He gave her a half smile. “Kacchan doesn’t know what he’s missing with you. He’s got a great wife.”

There was a moment then where they just stared at each other. Before Kaminaga’s blush could really turn bright red, she turned from him and finished her wine. “Um, are you finished? Did you want more?”

He cleared his throat before speaking. “No, no, that’s okay. I should get going soon anyway. Here let me take those.” He stopped her from getting up and took the wine glasses from her. She watched as he padded into the kitchen to rinse the glasses out in the sink. Then he set about looking for and successfully finding the dishwasher to put them in. She was amazed with how kind he was always. When he started to walk back her way, he was startled to find her staring at him. He stopped in his tracks. “What?”

It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized she was staring. “Nothing! Sorry. Uh, let me walk you to the door.” She hopped up from the couch, muttering at herself about how embarrassing she was. The distance to the door felt long and short at the same time in their silence. This seemed to be like a golden opportunity but was it right? What could she even do with it, Kaminaga thought. Nothing, her resolve decided. Like she had said earlier, there was nothing she could do.

“Okay,” she sounded a bit resigned as they reached the door. “Be careful. I know you have great reflexes but you did have some wine.”

He chuckled some. “True. Thanks for…caring about me.” He rested his hands on her waist and he pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed close, breathing in his clean linen scent. She didn’t want to break the hug but felt him pulling away. But he only pulled back so far and kept his hands on her waist. His eyes focused elsewhere.

After a moment of them standing that way, she spoke, “Deku?” He finally looked up, looking like a he was just called on by a teacher that knew he wasn’t paying attention. “You okay?”

For a very split second, she saw him glance at her lips and that was all she saw before his lips were on hers. Almost as if he’d been practicing for this (which she would’ve totally believed), his lips moved expertly against hers. Butterflies multiplied in her stomach. His grip on her tightened and he pulled her flush against his warm body. She felt like she could melt into him, he was inviting and open. She moaned out loud thinking about how she wanted to touch more than just his shoulders and neck but instead just fisted the pieces of his suit under her fingers.

Just when she thought she might combust, he suddenly pulled back and they both gasped. He rested his forehead against hers. “Sorry, Kami, but I’ve been dying to do that for years.”

She was glad for it, she realized. She was relieved that he made a move. Incensed by his boldness with her. She didn’t know exactly what it meant but her happiness overshadowed everything. “I’m not sorry but I don’t know when Katsuki will be home.” She met his dark eyes with hazy ones, praying for some sort of miracle. Something that would make it so they had all the time in the world. One-For-All couldn’t do that, could it?

“Then I’ll have to make this quick.” His voice was husky and his eyes shone with determination. He lifted her up easily and let her wrap her legs around his thin waist.

“Wait, do what-”

“Hold on.”

She barely registered his command when he started moving faster than she could comprehend. He was using his quirk and in an instant they were back at the couch and he was setting her down on it.

“Wait, Deku-”

He interrupted her again with an earnest look. “Do you trust me?”

His question stopped everything. She knew it was important. She knew that if the answer wasn’t a resounding yes, he would stop whatever could and would happen next.

“Of course I do. I always have.”

“Good,” he looked touched by her words. She watched him remove his suit jacket and loosen his tie. He fell to his knees in front of her and pushed up his sleeves before he pushed her dress all the way up to her hips. In one swift moment, he pulled her panties down and off of her. He looked like a man on a mission as he spread her legs wide. He gave her one soft swipe from her pink hole to the top of her clit and the moan it pulled out of her surprised her.

“Just as I’d hoped.” He muttered to himself, his breath tickling her lips.

“What’s as you-ah!” He licked her again, pulling another louder moan from her. She couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. He committed to his assault of steady strokes with his wide flat tongue and she started gulping air. “Fuuuck,” She drew out the word over her moans. “Deku, fuck, I can’t-” She stopped as he suctioned his lips around her clit. She was breathless as he kissed, licked, and sucked on the swollen bud. “Holy fuck!” She fisted his hair as she rutted against him. She didn’t know how much longer she would last. She felt like she was swimming through waves of pleasure. They were rolling through her entire body. She hadn’t been touched like this in…had she ever been touched like this? His tongue played over her clit quickly, giving her full body shivers. “Fucking fuck,” She said through gritted teeth. He chuckled between the sloppy kisses he left on her. She could feel his fingers coming up to swipe at her entrance and it sent another shiver down her spine. She really wasn’t going to last. She knew it was a matter of just seconds when he plunged a finger deep into her heat. She let out a short wild scream as her pleasure exploded outward. Her body contracted, her abs getting a workout as she rode the aftershocks. She tried to get her ragged breathing back to normal. “Fuck, Deku.”

He grinned up at her. He looked ecstatic as he licked his glossy lips. “Okay, that’s gotta be a personal best.”

“Personal? That was some kind of world record. Hardest and fastest orgasm.” She laughed breathlessly.

He laughed with her. “Okay, you can walk me to the door now.”

“You expect me to walk after that?”

“Okay, okay. Get on my back.”

“I don’t want to get any bodily fluids on your nice clothes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just get on my back.” He turned and kneeled in front of her. She did as she was told and he took off in an easy light jog back to the front door. Feeling affectionate, she started to kiss the top and sides of his head. She wished for a moment that he could stay and they could cuddle but Katsuki coming home and fighting Deku was not something that any of them needed. “Are you good to stand now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He let her down and took her hands once he faced her. “I’m glad I got to do that.”

She giggled, resisting the urge to cover her face. “Me too.”

“And next time,” he stepped closer. “I’m going to fill you all the way up.” He whispered before kissing her. She was so stunned by his words she kept her eyes open.

“Wow, who knew that Izuku Midoriya spoke like that?”

“No one,” He kissed her again.

“Wait,” She leaned back out of the way of another kiss. “No one? Not even Ochaco?”

“No one, Kami,” He leaned back giving her a very sweet kiss. “No one.” That made her feel a lot better than she expected. She almost told him not to leave but she chose to kiss him goodbye. At least until next time.

[aminiatureworld]

A Slow Flame

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,346

Warnings: None

Premise: Love is often like a flame, and sometimes that flame takes a while to catch. Yet it is no less bright when it finally does.

In which Scaramouche slowly falls in love

Author’s Note: Since this was requested as a headcanon I put it in bullet pointed format. Although I haven’t written proper headcanons in years, so this might read very similar to my scenarios. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy.  

When you first came into Scaramouche’s life he could hardly believe in your existence.

Most of the new recruits learned quickly enough to leave the icy Harbinger alone, knew that currying favor was an utterly useless endeavor, and found his personality grating at best. And yet you were insistent on sticking around, or sticking around as much as a lowly soldier could.

First on time to drill, first to get to meals, first to respond to questions and first to inquire after details in return. Scaramouche couldn’t figure you out, brushing you off as a try-hard or as an innocent who would quickly give up and run away. People such as you didn’t exist. They simply disappeared.

And yet you didn’t.

The trust grew slowly. If efficiency was valuable coin in the Tsaritsa’s army, then loyalty was priceless. Scaramouche knew that, could not understand why you would then offer such a thing to him. How could he trust it? It made no sense.

Yet you made no attempt to betray him, no attempt to pawn off information or get some bribe out of him. And slowly, almost unconsciously, he began to rely upon you.

At first he couldn’t see that the line was blurring.

When pressed with the question of your value in his eyes he would brush it off as you simply being the most qualified Fatui member he’d ever worked with. Of course he preferred your company to that of the rest of the lackeys, those fools who tripped over themselves trying to do the simplest of tasks. You were his most loyal soldier. Why shouldn’t he prefer your company?

You, in turn, made no attempt to close the gap that existed between you two. If you loved Scaramouche you did a good job of hiding it. And, of course, no one would ever bring such a topic up otherwise. Anyone who did would surely have a death wish, as Scaramouche would have their clothes singed to black in a second.

Within such an atmosphere perhaps it should’ve been no surprise that he never thought to examine his feelings for you. And yet, just because he didn’t examine them didn’t mean they stopped growing.

His first recognition of his feelings was when you were enlisted in a task headed by one of the lesser generals. Though the operation only lasted three days and you were soon back by his side Scaramouche found those three days surprisingly disarming. He’d grown accustomed to your presence, to the surety that you were always by his side. To be deprived of that felt like a shock to his system.

He even found himself unconsciously calling to you. Turning over his shoulder, expecting your advice, only to be met with the bare wall of his tent. Even the embarrassment of such a mistake couldn’t hide the unease that floated around him those three days.

When you finally returned it was as if Scaramouche had finally set foot on solid ground again.

After that he began to notice you more, as if finally becoming aware of your presence. No longer were you a loyal shadow, something that grew and changed in the light, fleeting and unobtrusive. No, now you were vivid, finally put into color by those days in which you were gone.

The first thing he noticed were your expressions. Before, he hadn’t really registered your gestures, the little habits that all people carry within themselves. Now your expressions hypnotized Scaramouche. The way in which you leaned slightly forward when laughing, the fact that one side of your lips tilted upwards before the other when you smiled, the way your face stilled when you were considering something, with only your eyes revealing the thoughts and considerations going through your mind. These expressions seemed new to Scaramouche and he reveled in them.

He began to wonder if you noticed the same things. Did you ever muse on the way his hands grasped pencils and mugs and papers? Did you also smile at the ways his eyes shined when he was excited – something admittedly rare? Were you suddenly as aware of him as he was of you, or had you not noticed yet? Had you always noticed, and he was the one being slow?

And yet he still didn’t connect it with love.

Then you were called away to Liyue.

Under Dottore’s supervision you were to study ruin guards; how they worked, what purpose they served, all these tasks were now up to you. Scaramouche wasn’t actually sure who had made the decision. He assumed it was the Tsaritsa. Perhaps because if not he would’ve never been able to agree to it.

After that Scaramouche turned colder. Suddenly he didn’t care as much; didn’t care about his subordinates, didn’t care about the infantile missions he’d been sent on. Didn’t care that Signora had already claimed a gnosis, and he was lagging dreadfully behind.

The only thing that had ignited his interest was the knowledge that Childe was now in Liyue, presumably on the same mission as Signora. This did nothing to call him to any sort of action however. Instead it seemed to leave him more drained, more disgusted with the world around him.

When Signora came to visit she couldn’t believe the state the Harbinger was in. Since when had Scaramouche become so inattentive? It was unheard of. And more baffling was the Harbinger himself, who neither knew nor care of his transformation.

Now, unlike Scaramouche, Signora isn’t a total idiot. It took approximately two days of sticking close to the Harbinger to realize what was wrong. And really two days was being generous.

Later it would embarrass Scaramouche to recall the fact that he’d been told he was in love with you, rather than figuring it out himself. At the time however he had no such embarrassment.

He’d initially rejected it, almost appalled by the answer laid at his feet. Yet even as he narrowed his eyes and sharpened his voice his mind betrayed him.

Suddenly things had taken on a new significance, memories that had laid dormant now brought bare. Suddenly a smile wasn’t only a smile, and the trust in your loyalty was no longer a matter of simple reliance. Suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking of your eyes, and suddenly your voice was a prized memory. Suddenly he couldn’t stop his love for you.

Scaramouche had promptly declared that it didn’t matter. Staring at the ground, he felt cynicism wash over him. What did it matter now? What good was there in realizing his feelings when you were already gone? There was no point in labelling it, as love or otherwise. He might as well forget.

Love was a useless emotion anyways. Perhaps it was best that he’d lost his chance for it, perhaps he’d just managed not to become weak.

Signora was incredibly irritated at this line of thinking, and was quick to berate her listless coworker. Nor was she just content in lecturing.

And thus Scaramouche landed himself in the plains of Liyue, eyes lighting up as they fell once more upon your face, heart somehow feeling lighter.

He didn’t want to admit that he loved you, still begrudging himself an emotion that made people weak.

Yet he couldn’t help but reach for your hand when you came up to him, and he couldn’t help but soften a bit at the contact, at the thing he’d secretly wished for all those weeks.

He wouldn’t tell you his true motive for traveling to Liyue and Mondstadt, not wanting to reveal his shame. He would speak only of his mission, to chase down a traveler and rid the Tsaritsa of a nuisance.

Yet sometimes, when the light was low and the stars were rising, he allowed himself a moment of honesty. I trust you, he’d whisper in his mind. I trust you, I trust you, I trust only you.

Perhaps one day he’d been able to change that trust to love. And perhaps one day the whisper in his mind would become words that passed his lips.