#asl gif

[sleepsspamsalot]

→ b r o t h e r s . ( one piece fan letter & one piece opening 26 )

[the-b1ah]

Part 1 of the batburger saga

Imma try to get all of Cass’s ASL right but let me know if I’ve fucked up in the comments. I’m already dreading how many hands I’m about to draw but anything for the queen of ass kicking.

Also gargoyle are very fun to draw btw

Context:

Black bat is doing the classic bat brood over Gotham city when our little ghostie decides to pop over. Since he’s acquired a free “all you can eat” batburgers pass it only seems fair to share the wealth.

——————————————

Black bat: *gazing despondently upon Gotham with dramatic music in the back* >:(🦇🪦🌧️

Phantom: Hey! ope, sorry to interrupt your brooding, want Batburgers?

Black bat : :D✨💖🫧

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Art reference

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Masterlist | Origin | part 2

[reidmarieprentiss]

Languages of Love

Summary: Based on this request! Spencer meets you, someone who uses a language he can't use, and is determined to learn your language and impress you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x deaf!fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: sign language

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: this was adorable omfg i can totally see spencer needing to learn a new language because he meets a beautiful person

main masterlist

You were standing in line, waiting to order your coffee, when the person ahead of you suddenly turned around with a confused expression. You blinked, tilting your head slightly in question, trying to understand what their look meant, only to realize they weren't focused on you—they were looking at something behind you.

Curious, you turned around to see what had caught their attention. Standing off to the side were two people who looked very official—a man and a woman, both watching you expectantly. The sight puzzled you, and your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of their presence.

You tilted your head again, a silent question in your eyes, wondering why they seemed to be addressing you. Before you could react further, the man began to speak, but his words spilled out too quickly, and his lips moved in a blur—far too fast for you to read.

Feeling a bit flustered but wanting to clear up the confusion, you lifted your hands and signed, “I’m sorry, I’m deaf.” Your movements were calm but clear, hoping they would understand.

The woman’s eyes followed your hands carefully, and after a brief pause of comprehension, she responded in sign language, though her motions were a bit awkward and unsure. “I’m sorry,” she signed, her hands slightly stiff, “can I talk to you?”

You nodded, though a hint of hesitation clouded your eyes. You motioned towards the counter, your hand forming the sign for "coffee" as you asked, “Coffee?” A small, polite smile spread across the woman’s face, and she nodded while signing back, “Yes, please.”

Turning back to the barista, you quickly ordered two coffees, keeping your movements efficient, your eyes flitting back occasionally to the two strangers. After a few moments, you balanced the cups in your hands and followed the man and woman to a nearby table, your mind racing with questions about who they were and why they wanted to talk to you.

You all sat down together, the tension of the unknown hanging over the table like a thick cloud. The man, looking slightly flushed—embarrassment, you observed—pulled a notebook from his pocket. He scribbled across the page quickly, his eyes darting up to you every so often as though gauging your reaction. After a moment, he flipped the notebook around, pushing it across the table for you to read:

We are with the FBI. We’re canvassing this area as a potential suspect has been spotted coming to this café. Can we ask you some questions?

Your eyes scanned the note, the words sinking in like stones as your heartbeat quickened. FBI? Suspect? You looked up at the two agents, your pulse in your ears, and nodded, your hand lifting instinctively to sign, “Yes.”

The two agents introduced themselves, the man as Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman as Dr. Alex Blake. You nodded at each name, trying to maintain your composure despite the underlying nerves. Once introductions were made, they dove right into their questions—simple, straightforward things: How often did you come to this café? Had you seen anyone suspicious lately? Any strange behavior that stood out to you?

As you answered each question in turn, you couldn���t help but notice Dr. Reid’s frustration. It became apparent how much he wished he knew more sign language, his brow furrowing whenever he struggled to understand, his hands occasionally twitching as though wishing to communicate properly. He would look to Dr. Blake for support each time you signed a response, and you found his earnestness almost endearing, this quiet desperation to make sure you felt understood.

Dr. Blake, on the other hand, impressed you with her sign language skills. Although her movements were not perfectly fluid, her recall was solid, and she managed to keep up with you almost effortlessly. She took the lead in asking follow-up questions, her hands moving with a careful confidence that showed she had practiced this before. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Dr. Reid glancing between you and Dr. Blake, clearly trying to learn and understand, his eyes darting back and forth with sharp focus. 

It made you smile—just a small quirk of your lips—as you could tell he was putting in genuine effort, and you appreciated it more than you could say. In a way, it softened the situation, making it feel less like an interrogation and more like a casual chat, albeit with an important undertone.

After you’d shared everything you could think of, Dr. Reid and Dr. Blake nodded appreciatively. They both signed "thank you," and while Dr. Blake’s movements were confident, Dr. Reid's were hesitant and slow, his brow furrowing as he tried to get it right. He turned to Alex, his voice tinged with a shy curiosity. “Alex, can you show me how to say ‘thank you for your time’?”

A grin spread across Dr. Blake's face as she demonstrated the sign slowly, her movements exaggerated so he could easily follow along. Dr. Reid focused intently, copying her motions with a nervous determination. After a couple of attempts, he finally got it, his face lighting up with a small, triumphant smile as he turned to you. “Thank you for your time,” he signed, a bit clumsily but with sincerity in every gesture.

You couldn't help but giggle softly, charmed by his effort, and you responded with a bright smile, your hand moving fluidly as you signed back, “Thank you.” There was something warm and genuine about the exchange, the simple kindness in their attention to making sure they communicated with you as best as they could. You all signed your goodbyes, your hands dancing through the familiar gestures, and then you turned to leave, ready to head back to your day.

But before you could take more than a step away, you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder. Surprised, you turned around, your eyes widening slightly until they landed on Dr. Reid. You couldn't help but smile as he stood there, his expression a mixture of hopefulness and uncertainty. He hesitated for just a moment before raising his hand to his ear and mouth, mimicking the universal “phone” gesture. It was clear he didn’t know the proper sign, but his eagerness was adorable, and you found yourself giggling again, nodding to show you understood.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your phone and handed it over to him. He accepted it with a small, bashful smile, quickly typing his number into your contacts before handing the phone back to you. As you looked at the screen, your eyes danced with teasing amusement. You saved the number and immediately sent him a text, letting him see that now he had your number, too.

Spencer’s eyes met yours as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out to see your message, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. You waved, your hand fluttering playfully, and then turned to walk away, glancing back just once to catch a final glimpse of his shy, boyish smile before you disappeared into the crowd.

When you finally got home, you kicked off your shoes, dropped your bag by the door, and flopped down onto the couch with a sigh of relief. It had been an odd day—running into two FBI agents at your favorite café was definitely not part of the plan—but it was intriguing.

Your phone buzzed as you relaxed into the cushions, and you quickly fished it out of your pocket, your eyes lighting up when you saw the message. It was from Spencer Reid, and just seeing his name brought a grin to your face. You opened the text, your smile widening as you read his polite and thoughtful words.

Hello, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I did not know how to sign this, but I wanted to give you my number in case you thought of any additional information or had any questions. I hope I did not make you uncomfortable.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, amused by how proper and formal he was, even over text. His thoughtfulness shone through every word, the way he worried if he’d made you uncomfortable, and the cautious professionalism in offering his number just in case. It was sweet, and it made your heart warm a little.

You typed back quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard as you smiled to yourself, deciding to add a hint of playful teasing to your response.

Hi! You did not make me uncomfortable at all, you’re sweet. Although, I am a little disappointed you only gave me your number for professional reasons.

You hit send, the message whooshing off into cyberspace, and sat back with a satisfied little grin on your face. You wondered how he might respond—would he be flustered? Amused? Whatever the answer, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last you’d hear from Dr. Spencer Reid. 

—

Spencer couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he read your message, his eyes lingering over your words. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, the warmth of the exchange settling comfortably in his chest. It wasn’t often that someone teased him so lightly, so playfully. He liked it—more than he expected to.

Alex caught the change in his demeanor instantly, narrowing her eyes with a teasing grin. "What was that?" she asked, her tone playful and prodding as she tilted her head towards him. "You seem... unusually cheerful for an investigation."

Spencer cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his smile, though he was fairly certain he failed miserably. "Hmm? Oh, nothing," he replied casually, trying to shrug it off as if it was no big deal. But the secret smile that tugged at his lips betrayed his nonchalance, and Alex could see right through it.

Alex’s eyebrow arched, a playful glimmer in her eyes as she observed Spencer's sudden burst of enthusiasm. She shook her head with a soft laugh, her amusement evident. But rather than dive into teasing him more, she let it slide, instead leaning back against the wall, folding her arms comfortably. 

Spencer, eager to steer the conversation away from the curious sparkle in her eyes, tilted his head. “When did you learn sign language?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I didn’t know you knew so much.”

Alex’s expression softened, the laughter fading into a more thoughtful smile. “A long time ago, actually,” she replied. “I took a linguistics course in grad school, and one of the areas we studied was American Sign Language. I found it fascinating—how rich and expressive it is. A completely visual language. So I kept learning, practiced with some Deaf friends. You know how it is—you start learning something new, and it just sticks.”

She paused for a moment, a fondness in her voice as she reflected on the skill she’d picked up so many years ago. “I haven’t had many opportunities to use it recently, though, so I was a bit rusty today. But I’m glad it came in handy.” She gave a small shrug as if it was no big deal, but Spencer could tell how much it meant to her to be able to communicate with you effectively.

“I’m impressed,” Spencer said earnestly. “It’s a beautiful language. I just wish I knew more of it. You made it look so easy today.”

Alex chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Spencer. You did fine. And besides, looks like you might have an excuse to practice now.” She shot him a knowing glance, and Spencer’s cheeks turned slightly pink as he glanced away, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips.

When Spencer returned home that night, his first instinct was to reach into his bag and pull out the book on American Sign Language he had impulsively picked up on his way home from the library. He settled down in his favorite chair, the worn fabric molding comfortably around him as he cracked open the first few pages. The textbook felt heavy in his hands, but the thrill of learning something new made his pulse quicken, the familiar rush of excitement he always felt when diving into a new subject.

He scanned the table of contents, eyes darting over the list of basics—alphabet, numbers, common phrases. His fingers itched to start signing immediately, but he forced himself to go slowly, knowing he’d need to cover the fundamentals before he could even think of diving into conversational fluency. Spencer read carefully, mouthing the words as he memorized the signs, occasionally raising a hand to test out the motions, his fingers forming the letters of the ASL alphabet with care.

Of course, he told himself, this sudden drive to learn had nothing to do with you. The way you had smiled so brightly when he’d attempted to sign, the warmth in your eyes as you’d encouraged his clumsy attempts—that had nothing to do with this. He’d probably never run into you again anyway, right? It was simply a practical skill, he reasoned, one that could serve him well in the field, and it was important to be able to communicate with anyone he might meet.

But as Spencer flipped through the pages, trying to imprint each sign in his memory, he couldn't ignore the flutter in his chest, the small hope that maybe, just maybe, he would see you again. And when that day came, he wanted to impress you—he wanted to sign your language, seamlessly and naturally, so you’d never feel that gap between spoken and signed words again. Deep down, Spencer knew that every sign he learned was a step closer to reaching out to you, to breaking the barrier that had momentarily stood between you both.

So he stayed up late that night, practicing the signs over and over, his fingers moving clumsily at first, but gradually gaining confidence. He covered the basics—the alphabet, greetings, simple phrases like “How are you?” and “Thank you.” And as he signed each one, his thoughts returned to the cafe, to the way you’d laughed so easily, the gentle curve of your hands as you’d signed back to him, your eyes filled with light.

—

"Hey, Alex," Spencer said as he slid up to the side of her desk, trying to sound casual, though the eagerness in his voice made it obvious he was anything but. His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of her desk, his eyes flickering between the book of ASL phrases he'd brought with him and Alex, who was typing away at her computer.

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk. “Sure, Spencer,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “Any particular reason you suddenly want to practice?” The corner of her mouth twitched upward knowingly, the hint of a teasing smile spreading across her face.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he fumbled to keep the book tucked under his arm. “Uh, no,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it came off a bit forced. “I mean, yes, but not really. It’s just, you know, important to be able to communicate in different ways. In case we... ever need it again for a case, or something like that.” He shrugged, but the movement was stiff, and Alex could see right through his excuses.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying his half-hearted explanation. “Or something. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the woman we spoke to at the café?” Alex roughly signed while she spoke, just to throw a little more teasing into the mix.

Spencer gave a small, sheepish grin, one hand nervously brushing through his hair. “Well,” he admitted, his eyes darting to the side, “I guess it couldn’t hurt... to be more prepared. In case we see her again.” He paused before adding quickly, “Or anyone else who signs, of course.”

Alex chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Of course,” she said, still signing. “Alright, let's practice then. I could use the refresher myself.” She gestured for him to sit, setting aside her work, clearly delighted by this turn of events.

Spencer let out a small sigh of relief, and as he pulled up a chair beside her, he opened the book to the first page they would go over together. And as they began signing basic greetings back and forth, Spencer felt the nerves start to melt away, replaced by a renewed excitement. He knew that with every word he learned, he was one step closer to being able to speak directly to you, without stumbling or awkwardness—just him, hoping to meet you at your level.

—

It was a normal Wednesday morning, and as always, you found yourself waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop. This midweek pick-me-up was one of your cherished routines—a small way to break up the workweek and treat yourself before the daily grind. You'd been coming here for years, long enough that the staff knew your face and your order by heart, and they had long since adapted to your way of communicating. It always made the mornings smooth, familiar, and comforting.

When it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the counter, ready to place your usual order. The person in front of you had just moved to the side, waiting for their name to be called, and you reached into your bag to grab your wallet. But before you could even open it, you felt a gentle touch on your arm—enough to make you pause but soft enough not to startle. Confused, you turned around, and a smile broke across your face when you saw who it was.

There, standing right behind you, was the tall, familiar figure of Dr. Spencer Reid. His expression was open, friendly, his eyes crinkling slightly as he waved hello. You gave a small wave back, surprised and happy to see him again. But before you could say anything, his hands moved up, and he began signing, a little slowly but clearly: “I will pay.”

Your eyes widened in delighted surprise, and you couldn’t help the massive, toothy grin that spread across your face. You nodded, not even trying to hide your happiness, and as Spencer pulled out his billfold, you watched him confidently step up to the counter, ordering another drink for himself. 

As the barista rang up the total and handed back his change, you both made your way to the other side of the counter, where the barista would place your drinks once they were ready. Your smile was still stretched ear to ear, and as soon as you were both settled, you signed enthusiastically, “Thank you.” You put your whole heart into the sign, hoping to convey just how much you appreciated the gesture.

Spencer’s eyes lit up at your reaction, and though he was still learning, he carefully signed back, “You’re welcome.” He felt a swell of pride, not just because he'd gotten the sign right, but because it had earned him that big, radiant smile from you again—the one that made him feel like he'd just done something really, really right.

As you both waited for your drinks to be called, you found yourself eager to know more about him, about why he was here, and whether this coffee outing was as coincidental as it seemed.

With coffees in hand, Spencer gestured toward an open two-person table, and you both made your way over. The café was abuzz with the usual mid-morning activity—baristas calling out names, the hiss of espresso machines, and the chatter of other customers—but right now, your focus was entirely on the man sitting across from you. 

Once you were both seated, you set down your coffee and looked at him with a smile, your hands moving slowly, deliberately, as you signed, “How are you?”

Spencer's eyes lit up as he caught every sign. He felt a wave of excitement that he actually understood, and you could see how grateful he was that you had signed clearly and at a pace he could follow. He straightened up slightly, lifting his hands to respond, his movements a bit stiff but determined. “Good,” he signed, and then quickly followed up with, “And you?”

Your smile softened as you signed back, “Better now.” You made sure to sign gently, your hands moving with an easy grace, knowing that he was still learning. But Spencer’s expression immediately changed—he was concentrating, trying to decipher the exact meaning behind your words, a look of curiosity and a touch of self-doubt clouding his eyes. It was clear he was trying to figure out if you meant "better now" as in "better today" or "better in this moment."

The slight frustration on his face was endearing, and you watched as he quickly pulled out a pen and notebook from his bag, his fingers fumbling slightly in his hurry to communicate clearly. He scribbled a quick note, and then turned it to you, the question neatly written out in his careful handwriting: 

“Do you mean ‘now’ or ‘today’?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. It was a fair question—ASL could be nuanced, and for a new learner, the subtle differences in meaning could be confusing. You reached out to take the pen from his hand, your fingers brushing against his briefly, causing a light jolt of surprise for both of you. Spencer’s eyes flickered to your hand before looking back up at you, his cheeks tinged pink. 

You wrote carefully, making sure the message was clear: “Now :)”

When you passed the notebook back to him, Spencer read the word with a growing smile, feeling a sense of relief and happiness that you were, in fact, "better now"—because of this moment you were sharing together. He looked up at you with an almost shy grin, his eyes meeting yours with that same bright sincerity. And as you both sat there, sipping your coffee and smiling across the table, it felt like you had all the time in the world to learn each other's languages, one small step at a time.

Spencer set his coffee cup down on the table with a look of pure determination etched on his face. He met your eyes with an earnestness that made your heart skip a beat, and he began to stumble through a series of signs, his fingers moving with deliberate care. You could see how hard he was concentrating, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to recall everything he'd studied, but it was clear that while his mind might know the signs, his hands were having a little more trouble putting them together smoothly.

His first sign came out awkwardly—he intended to sign "will," but you understood it as "future." You tilted your head slightly, a puzzled smile tugging at your lips as you tried to understand. Spencer, not realizing the mistake, nervously pressed on, clearly determined to get his message across. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, and then signed "you," mouthing the word as he did. 

Your grin widened as you watched him, still a little confused by the context but so endeared by his effort. His eyes flickered up to yours, gauging your reaction, and you nodded in encouragement, waiting to see what he'd say next.

Spencer's fingers moved again, a little clumsier this time. "Go," he signed, and then followed it with "date." He paused, took a deep breath, and then finally added, “with me,” his eyes never leaving yours, as if afraid to miss your reaction. It was such a sweet attempt that you couldn’t help but smile brightly, warmth blooming in your chest as you realized what he was asking.

You quickly pieced together his intended message: he wanted to know if you would go on a date with him. Technically, Spencer should have signed "will" at the end, to clarify the question—since in ASL, that would have helped avoid any confusion about tense—but you didn’t care about the technicality. The effort he’d put into learning, and his shy, hopeful expression, meant so much more than getting the grammar perfect.

Nodding eagerly, you signed back “Yes” with enthusiasm, your hand moving quickly and brightly as your eyes locked with his. Spencer’s face broke into a relieved, overjoyed smile, his entire expression lighting up in a way that made you want to laugh with delight. 

And just like that, over two cups of coffee and a few imperfect signs, you found yourself agreeing to a date with Dr. Spencer Reid—the handsome, sweet, determined FBI agent who was willing to learn an entirely new language just to speak with you.

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tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @arttie1106

[beif0ngs]

I wonder if it's just a coincidence that both of you have 'D' in your names...

[jodielandons]

Little Maya & Bonnie

ECHO (2024) | 1.01 'Chafa'

[thrillersbark]

[helluva-boss-hazin-hotel-central]

[mttztrading]

This city's burning. It's not my burden.

Deaf West's American Idiot

[azertyrobaz]

Keivonn Woodard as Sam in The Last of Us, Episode 5 , “Endure and Survive”

Source

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

LASL Building a Snowman

🐅Law🐅

Word Count:253

Law watched from the distance as his lover was helping his crew create a snowman. The Heart Pirate crew surrounded you, as they started working on the base of the snowman, the snow was just the right constituency for the snow to hold. He watched as you blew on your fingers and rubbed them together, the cold getting to you. You had forgotten you gloves in the Tang.

He held out his hand, “Room,” he whispered holding a rock in his hand, a dome surrounded him and the Tang, “Shambles,” he threw the rock in the air, and it replaced with your gloves. He called your name, distracting you as you had your fingers dug deep into Bepo’s fur trying to stay warm.

You blinked surprised when your gloves landed in your hand and stared at Law who nodded. It caused you to blush and look of course your captain was looking out for you, you were his cremate he would do that with everyone.

“Captain, bring me my scarf as well,” Shachi called out, “I am feeling a bit cold,” Law raised, and Penguin elbowed his friend Shaking his head.

“You know he only will only help, Y/N,”  Shachi said teasing their captain causing the both of you to blush.

“We should add Captain’s hat to the snowman,” you joked running towards your captain. The snowman was finished Law stopped you his fingers tangling with your hand stopping you.

“I think there are better hats to put on,” he kissed your forehead.

🔥Ace🔥

Word Count:207

Ace smiled at you as both of you were patting the snowman trying to round out his body, his fingers every once in a while, brushing over yours to bring warmth to your fingers. He would blush and move his finger away apologizing to you before both of you finished rounding out the body.

Your snowman was nearly done all that was missing was a few accessories.  He stepped back as the snowman was a bit lumpier than expected, you could clearly see Ace’s hand prints as he ran on higher heat thanks to his devil fruit.

You rubbed your fingers together blowing on them to keep them warm as the chill was starting to get to you even as you were wrapped up in several layers of clothes. You took a step closer to Ace taking in the warmth his body radiated.

Ace was scratching his head, “I think he is messing something,” he said.

“He needs a hat and some freckles,”  You joked pocking Ace’s cheek causing him to blush a bit.

He wrapped his arms around your waist his head resting on your shoulder, “I think we can add those extra touches…in a minute,” he saw you shiver and deiced to share his body heat.

🎩Sabo🎩

Word Count: 250

Sabo was helping you build a snowman, as you and him were finishing the final touches to the face. He put the button eyes and wrapped the scarf around the snowman. He kept you entertained with stories about his brothers and his childhood in the winter.

“I had to fight Luffy not to eat the yellow snow,” he said straightening the scarf of the snowman. He had found one of his old hats from his child hat, “but in the end managed to take a bite into it before he spit out,” he laughed at the memory of his little brother so eager to try lemon snow thanks to a lie Ace told him.

You laughed as he shared his memories, he had surprised you when he invited you to build a snowman with him. He had such a boyish charm to him it was hard to say no. It wasn’t shocking when he was organized and had everything ready and knew the greatest spot.

He always shared stories of his childhood whenever he planned a date, it kept you entertained. You finished putting the buttons on for the snowman and gave him a gentle pat.

“Did you ever try yellow snow?” You teased.

His cheeks became a lovely shade of pink answering your question. You giggled a bit kissing his cheek as he wrapped one arm around your waist and rested his head on top of yours, “I am feeling for hot chocolate now,” he said admiring the snowman.

👒Luffy👒

Word Count:249

Luffy was once again throwing adding another body to the snowman as your guy’s snowman was having strange round body looking more like a caterpillar that was somehow balancing.  “How about a bucket for a hat?” Luffy questioned his body wrapping around the snowman and balancing on and not having it and not break it.

“Sure,” you answered as you smiled at him, you have long given up on putting any sort any of the vegetables for the face.

Luffy grabbed a bucket from the table and placed it on top of the snowman both of you created. It was a competition between the Straw hats as they formed teams. Luffy choosing you right away wrapping his rubbery body on yours. It caused your heart to race as your captain chose to rub his cheeks next to yours.

“You call that a snowman,” Ussop called out having a more elegant snow sculpture, “That thing can barely stand right,” he taunted.

“Yeah but at least, he is standing,” Luffy said throwing a snowball at Ussop knocking the poor boy into his sculpture. Luffy chuckled before your guy’s snowman started crumbling thanks to the uneven weight.

“Luffy,” you shouted as both of you laying under a pile of snow. Your snowman was no more all was left was the hat and scarf.

“I am sorry,” Luffy said wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you as he still chuckling. He pushed you closer and soon the both of your laughing.

[torncolourfultights]

kimiko miyashiro using her and her brothers language < 3

[vanille-francaise]

[beif0ngs]

am i doing the meme right

[cherry-pop-elf]

Breakfast

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: It was finally the weekend, which meant rest for you. Not so much for George, but that wasn’t an issue. He loved his job. Regardless, early mornings can be lonely. Luckily, he always does open the store later in the day. So today, you THREE get to spend time together. You, Georgie, and little Freddy

((Btw yes I’m using ASL instead of BSL. It’s easier to get accurate with research, and it can help teach more people to!))

“WHOOPSIE-!” Certainly a concerning word, in any house hold. Was what made you wake up. You didn’t want to, but oh well. The sacrifices every parent makes. George wasn’t in bed with you anyway. No fun being in bed, with out someone to cuddle.

You would pull yourself out of bed, while steal your husbands sleep robe, and proceed to try and figure out why your son was going Whoopsies. Because if he’s saying that, something’s probably on fire. Or exploded. Or currently trying to climb itself out of a trunk.

“Hey, accidents happen. Don’t worry. Here, I’ll clean it up-“ That sweet voice would comfort, as you entered the kitchen. The smell of breakfast heavy in the air, and the windows open to the early morning noise.

What a sight it was. Seeing your handsome husband. That ginger hair all a mess in the early morning. Plaided pants, with hand me down shirt that was somehow surviving from either spite or love. (You bet it’s a mixture of both, with those Weasleys)

Little Freddy himself was in a bright purple pajama set. With the cutest little designs all over it. Just like his uncle, he just adored purple like no other. Like hell you wouldn’t let him enjoy such a color.

Your husband would wave his wand, and repare the broken plate on the ground. Nothing magic couldn’t fix. Seems like the two of them were making breakfast together. George teaching little junior how to cook, and clean. Made your smile, as you leaned on the door frame.

“See? No harm no fowl. You did the right thing, though. The plate was hot, and you let go before it could hurt you.” He would encourage, as to make sure little Freddy knew that everything was alright. Gentle, calm, and soothing. No need for yelling, after all.

“Can you sign Hot-?” He would ask Freddy, as he quickly nodded. His tiny hand would make a claw shape towards him mouth, before turning it away. As if eating an apple, and placing it down.

“That’s right-! Good job-!” George would cheer, as he yanked his son into his arms. Got him to giggle, as he was attacked in kisses. Such a proud father. You swore you might cry. George just adored his son to no end. It reminded you of the many, many, reasons you fell for him.

“Well now, look who’s awake-!” George would smile at you, before your son made grabby hands at you. That was your que, and you happily took it.

You would steal your bouncing baby boy, and pepper him in kisses all the same. A good distraction for George to make the plates for breakfast. Just laughter, and the sizzle of food.

“What has my little trouble maker been doing this morning?” You asked your son, as he gave a big smile. One that echoed the likes of his father. Helped that the ginger curls were over those chubby freckled cheeks.

“Daddy and I made breakfasts together! And he’s teaching me how to sign stuff that means breakfast!” Freddy would giggle, as you gave a wide eyed expression of curiosity. A means to encourage such behavior.

“He’s gotten so good at it. He’s gonna be better the me even. And I’m the deaf guy-!” George would snort, as you rolled your eyes at him.

Did have a point though. Being raised to learn sign language is alot different than having to learn it later in life. Luckily, though, George is far smarter than people give him credit for. Just look at the empire he made. Even with Fred’s help, it’s no easy task.

“We made waffles, and pancakes, and and-“ Freddy would babble on, and you listened to each little word. Cherishing it all, as you helped him sit at the table. Making sure he was secure in his seat, before sitting next to him. With George on the other side of him. Your shared bundle of joy, between his parents.

“You did a good job. It all looks so yummy.” You praised, as you gave his chubby cheek a kiss. Had him giggle, before he grabbed his sippy cup. Happy to enjoy some morning juice, as you reached behind your little boy.

“Just perfect.” You almost whispered, as you held George’s hand. The grip was returned, as he stole your fingers to his lips. Kissing them over, and making you blush all over. As if just an early year again, and admiring his skills on the quidditch team.

“Terrible.” You tease, as he gave an eyebrow wiggle at your manners. Had you snort, before he was quick to lean himself over. Had to make sure his partner got a kiss too. A kiss you oh so happily returned. All to the ‘gross’ babble of your son.

That soon had you both pamper his face in kisses, as he squealed at such an attack. Flailing little fingers, as you made sure he was adored in all the love you two could muster. That was quite alot, mind you.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You asked, as George gave a groan. Had you giggle that he never truly gave up all his childish habits. As if you would want that. You needed to smile, after all.

“Work, work, and more work. Love the job, I do. Wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I wish I could just close the doors for one day…..I mean, I can do exactly that. I’m the boss here. Hm…..Maybe I should do that. ‘Closed for a family picnic’ and all that. Yeah, yeah I should do that-“ He spoke out loud, as he enjoyed his waffle.

“We can see uncle Fred!” Freddy would shout, as you would wipe the syrup off his face. Messy eater he was, but you savored it. Just was nostalgic, after all. A messy eater like when his father was young.

“The cemetery normally has, like, no people this day in the week. That could work, honestly. Just a private little family get together like that.” George nodded, as he showed he liked the idea. Made junior grin, with such pride.

“Sounds like a plan then. A nice picnic to see uncle Fred, and just a day to spend with us three. I love it. Good job.” You would add to George, as Junior was just all smiles. So much like said uncle, but certainly George all the same.

With the plans all set, the three of you enjoyed the breakfast between you all. With plenty of George teasing his boy. With silly faces, and stories of his youth. Was just divine to watch. To see him so happy again.

“All done-!” Freddy would suddenly shout. Was followed by placing both his hands to his chest, before bringing them back to the table. Multiple times, as to practice what the sign meant. Warmed your heart. Smart like his daddy.

“Good job, Freddy. Now, what do we say next?” George would ask, as Freddy had to think. With his little brows furrowed, as he huffed. Trying his best to remember what to sign next.

“We clean….” He muttered, as he gave sign language babble to himself. Trying hard to figure it out, as you both waited. With no rush. No yelling. No pressure. Just waiting, and letting him breathe.

“Clean….” He muttered, as would place his right hand on his left hand. Then he made a swiping motion, as if trying to wipe something off his hands. It wasn’t quite as smooth as it should be, but he still remembered it regardless.

“Got that right. We clean up. Well, try to.” George would give that awkward smile, as you gave him a knowing look. No yelling, like Molly would. George had a bad habit with his messes, but no one is perfect. He had quirks to make up for it. Much like yourself held your own bad, and good, habits the same. The goal was to try and prevent such to junior. The best you could, anyway.

“Yeah-! Clean up!” Freddy nodded, as he would stumble out of his chair. Adorable little waddle was made to the sink, only to realize he was to short. Made him frustrated, as he gave an angry little stomp. As if that would somehow make him grow.

“I’ll never get tired of that.” You sighed, as George nodded. The both of you enjoying the sight of little Freddy trying to figure out how to reach the sink. Just enjoying the moment, while you could.

“I’ll help him. You go out the sign up.” You said, as you stood up. He was quick to do that same, before stealing you into his arms. Just to hold you a moment, and savor it. Savor the bliss of the morning. With his head resting against yours. No words were needed, as you cupped his face. Tracing the scars, and admiring him in his entirely.

“Love you to, you big trouble maker.”

[thrillersbark]

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Here's a parallel I hate

What Heart signs in the background of the church.

What heart signs to the sign language instructor at the church:

gif from @ablazenqueen

In order the signs are DEAF. THREE. YEARS. NOW. FIRST. MEET. DEAF. SAME."

Thank you to @deafcruz for pointing out the sign: SAME

So for a rough English translation: "I've been deaf for three years and now is the first I'm meeting others who are deaf"

What Heart signs to his mother in their fight: DEAF. YEARS. THREE.

gif from @maxescheibechlinichacheli

followed by "You never learned sign language. You are ashamed of me being Deaf,"

And like...yeah...we knew this already, but I can't believe that I didn't pay attention to what Heart was saying at the church until literally last night because he mentions how long he's been deaf and how long he's been deprived of community so casually in that scene. Probably cause he's just excited to meet other Deaf people. But that simple statement looms overhead, getting ready to be used again when Heart finally speaks his mind to his mother. When Heart finally shows her how isolated she has made him because her feelings have been more important than his life.