#blind/colorblind too!!

[funkyyylizard]

i will probably die if i had to draw their models again..

[muffinlance]

Can Sokka’s science tell him which of Katara’s 7 spools of blue thread 🧵 is the right one to darn that hole in his shirt with?

It could if she didn't keep changing her answer

Katara: I AM NOT CHANGING MY ANSWER

Sokka: YES YOU ARE THESE ARE IDENTICAL

Katara: NO THEY'RE NOT

Sokka: I DEMAND A DOUBLE-BLIND STUDY

Katara: I DEMAND YOU GET YOUR OWN SEWING KIT

[crustycrackhead]

Freaks I tell you, freaks

Swampcat part something, I think it’s neat that an alligator’s jaw muscles have little strength for opening their mouth… Frost would take advantage of that, for fun and consensual purposes ☝️

I think more animal traits need to be appreciated, gator and tiger. They silly, slow blinking and remaining entirely still is my favorite. Or like how Frost would have dichromatic vision, Kremy and Frost would have like same shade of color to him. Like okay… matching (I’m insane). Kremy would have like a gorgeous blue suit. Yeah— rambling rambling— SILLY FREAKS… THEY’RE BOTH STRONG SWIMMERS DAMNIT!!! GRRRR THAT’S SILLY TO ME, THEY SPLASH AND SHIT DAMN 🙄

[4giorno]

underappreciated thing from the stuffpack reveal: they only said they were incorporating "nordic" design. they didnt say scandinavian 💖

[lyrefromthesea]

Blind reader x hashira + kokushibo? (since she's blind she doesn't know he's a demon?)

Please 🙃

Male hashira (+ Kokushibo) x Reader - Blindness is something I can overlook

author's note: fun fact, i am partially colorblind.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

"i like these.." you told him, holding a small chain of jewelry in your hands. the man looked over your shoulder, a content hum leaving him.

normally, people wouldn't take a blind person to shop for accessories with them, but Tengen didn't seem to care. in fact, he had appeared quite eager to take you with him.

now here you were, trying to find a "flashy" - as he'd like to call it - accessory for him. not knowing how they looked, you decided to feel them instead.

some of them were lightly sharp, sure to leave small scratches on his skin. others were rounded and had a smooth surface. you preferred them over the sharp jewelry, but weren't happy with those either.

finally, when your hand brushed over diverse stones, you felt content with the jewelery you've found. it felt like a rope in your hand, but it was made out of small cold stones, which were the perfect mix of smoothness and sharpness.

they varied in size and shape, leaving a good impression on you. especially since they reminded you of the big stones on his headband. when you told him that you liked them, his eyes lit up.

"there's another one here." he said, taking the second chain into his hand. the cool color of the new accessory matched the pink diamonds he already wore.

"they're perfect, beautiful." he told you, giving the cashier a handful of money. he didn't wait to get the rest of his money back, too focused on the gift you've found him.

"are you just saying that or do you mean it?" you ask, yet you smiled right after, knowing that he was being honest when he talked to you.

"they're great - flashy. i'll make sure to wear them everywhere." he was already attaching them to the side of his headband, determined to keep his promise true.

yet you were only focused on the softness that had sneaked into his voice, showing his appreciation for the newfound treasure.

Obanai:

he didn't mind your blindness, welcomed it even. he would've never admitted it to you, never told you - knowing it would probably hurt your feelings.

but he felt it was better that way, better for you not to see him. he was hideous and he knew it.

so why, after years of insecurity, he allowed someone to see his state of weakness. his heart nearly sunk when you asked him to let you see him.

he had told you it wasn't important, that he just needed to be there for you, but you had insisted and he couldn't deny you a single wish.

now he held himself back from moving away, his heart beating faster as he saw your hands nearing his uncovered face.

yet the contrast of his feelings and the soft warmth of your touch left him puzzled. you were sitting right next to him, hands cupping his cheek. more importantly, your thumbs were carefully tracing over his scars.

he knew you could feel the difference under your thumb, could feel how different he was from other people. part of him had expected you to leave him after finding out how hideous he truly looked.

"you're beautiful.." you whispered, his eyes widening like they've never done before. he was left speechless by your words, swallowing down his fear to respond.

"you don't have to lie." he answered, voice unstable. he couldn't believe that someone could love him, not when he was like this.

"i wish i could see you with my eyes." his trembling hands touched yours, squeezing them just lightly. he knew how much those words meant, you had never spoken them out before.

and it wasn't only your wish. he could feel the desire to make you see swell up in his own chest. to imagine that he thought differently before - it felt stupid to him now.

Rengoku:

"open your mouth and close your eyes!" he instructed, making you halt.

did he just? he did not, right? ..right?

"Kyojuro..?" you carefully said his name, making the man answer with a hum. he still held his spoon in hand, having wanted to give you a bite of his food.

you raised your hand, waving it in front of your face. it took him a moment to catch on, realizing that his words had been stupid to the core.

"oh- i certainly didn't-" he stopped when he heard you snort, wide eyes watching you smile and laugh. his heart started beating faster, his cheeks flushing.

you clearly weren't mad or disappointed, but he felt embarrassed for forgetting something so obvious. the words slipped out of his mouth before he could even register it.

"it's fine, don't worry." you answered, putting a comforting hand on his. you leaned forward, taking the spoon into your mouth and chewing on the food before swallowing it down.

"is that sashimi? it's really good." you complimented, the note of wasabi still lingering on your tongue.

"do you want me to order some more?" he asked, turning his hand around to hold yours. you hummed, a small smile forming on your face.

days like these were your favourite - the perfect mix of romantic and silly.

Sanemi:

"it should be around here.." you mumbled, pulling the white haired man with you. his eyes were fixated on your surroundings, trying to figure out what exactly drove you towards this place.

"ah- can you smell it?" you gasped, turning your head towards the right, trying to pick up on the floral scent lingering in the air.

"no.." he answered, shaking his head lightly. no matter what he thought off, he couldn't come up with a reason why you'd bring him here.

nevertheless, his legs continued moving, not because he was necessarily interested, but because he wanted to make you happy.

that's why his eyes widened when you walked past multiple trees, reaching a giant flower field.

now he understood what you were talking about, the floral aroma enveloping his senses. he felt you letting go of his hand, leaning down to pick one of the flowers and smell on it.

the field was beautiful, full of the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. however, he realized that was a sight you'd never experience, slowly lowering himself in the grass next to you.

he took one of the flowers, mimicking your actions and breathing in it's scent. if you couldn't see what he was seeing, he could at least try experiencing the same as you.

"it's beautiful.."

Giyuu:

"like this." his voice was quiet, but it sounded much thicker and lower than the night's silence. he had asked you to show him your hand, but when you asked how, he guided it into the correct position.

your palm was facing him, fingers feeling the wind brush between them, teasing you with light touches and the surrounding silence.

you felt his hand on yours, his fingers brushing over your palm, gently drawing different forms onto your skin.

"it tickles.." you whispered, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he started tapping along your skin. a gentle huff escaped him, the one that made you know he was smiling.

"that's how i feel when i see you.." he answered, his hand finally pressing against yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle hold.

you silently scooted closer, the night's air sending a comfortable chill over your body. it didn't take him long to hold you closer, letting his body's warmth settle into your skin.

"you make me feel ticklish all around.. sometimes i worry i won't be able to think when i see you." he admitted, coaxing a smile out of you.

he didn't mind that you couldn't see, because he could see your beauty either way.

Gyomei:

some might say it would be ironic for two blind people to fall in love or befriend each other, but it certainly worked out for the two of you.

you admired his strength and he admired yours. truthfully, he hadn't noticed you at first, hadn't questioned why you used another weapon than the other demon slayers, but it all made sense when he found out about your blindness.

"this is your weapon of choice?" he had asked when the two of you joined a mission. he held a long rope dart in his hand - your treasure. Haganezuka had created the weapon for you.

the usually normal rope was made out of a thin chain, helping you coordinate throughout the fight. naturally, Gyomei who also used a special weapon, was intrigued by it.

"due to my lack of strength, it's the only suitable weapon for me." you answered, your fingers tracing over the axe he carried around with him. it was much heavier than your weapon, fitting for the man, who was much taller than you.

"it is a good choice indeed. i admire your critical thinking skills." he admitted, a smile displaying on his face.

and though you would sadly never see the happy look he'd give you in the future, you certainly liked the content tone of his voice.

Kokushibo:

he didn't remember his former loved ones. he didn't remember his wife. he didn't remember his child. their faces were a blur that he had created himself.

but you weren't. you were well. you were alive. he didn't need to remember the past when he could enjoy the presence with you.

his own human, the one he swore to protect. perhaps the gods have blessed him this time around, just like they had blessed his damned brother before.

the one person Kokushibo yearned to have just had to be a human. his surprise when he realized you weren't able to see was immaculate. he felt compassionate. and relieved.

"greetings.." the male spoke, stepping through the small gate of your house. the area was surrounded by wisteria, but like the gods had wanted him to find you, they left a small path for him.

"Kokushibo, it's you!" you smiled, standing up and letting go of the flowers in your hand. it took some time, but you managed to grow some in your garden.

the demon watched you move towards him, affectionately taking his hand like you've known each other forever. "you came back earlier this time."

"i happened to have a bit of free time.." he answered, low voice filling you with contentedness. while he made sure to look at you, his other eyes glanced at the garden.

the world could be dangerous for a blind person, but you've built your own small paradise between the rows of poisonous trees.

"let's get you inside, it's quite cold." you said, leading him towards the entrance of your very own home.

he wondered if he could keep up this facade of trust or if you would hate him after you've found out that the enemy stood in your house.

[dreamytfw]

10 people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @sadundefinedbread, my beloved ❤️

Last song: Monitoring by Deco*27 feat. Hatsune Miku

Favorite color: turquoise

Last book: last book I finished was 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King; last one I read (and am currently reading) is The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Last movie: A Muppet's Christmas Carol

Last show: Dexter

Sweet/spicy/savoury: I like all of them, but sweet reigns supreme

Relationship status: Married in the same way a nun is (aka I'm too emotionally devoted to a character - or, in my case, several - to have an IRL partner lol)

Last thing I googled: if color blind was one word or two. Fan fact: "colorblind" is an American-ism that started gaining popularity in the 1990s

Current obsession: Besides the omnipresence of Supernatural, Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom.

Looking forward to: finishing and posting a couple of fics :3

Tagging: @pavlovianfuckery @sastielbeltscene @sammywinchesterslover @flannel-wrapped-nightmare @boykingscourt @slutsons-blog @deancaslover @castiellesbian @autisticandroids @sambrosia

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Evil X is red-green colorblind and thinks no one can tell the difference between him and Xisuma which is why he calls himself Evil Xisuma to help differentiate between them

EXCELLENT. Fantastic. He thinks he's made himself a perfect Xisuma disguise, and X is just too polite to tell him otherwise. ...Or, he's also red/green colour blind. No wonder EX hasn't been getting the shock and horror responses he was hoping for when he introduced himself as Evil Xisuma! It is a bit more obvious than he thinks, after all. Just a bit.

~ Mod Shade

[mysticarts]

silly little Gunntech Au oc

(ft me about to ramble, be ready yall-)

Soo, I've become obsessed with @elmushterri Gunntech Au (context: Gunntech AU is a AU where the show PJ masks is a show for more mature audiences for teens, think owl house!) They also made a video about this, just look up 'What if PJ Masks' and most likely they're video will pop up first!

(Note I'm using they them pronouns for Elmuehterri cause idk their pronouns and I wanna be respectful-)

And I remember from Elmushterri's video, they mentioned Octobella, and how she could be a failed experiment. Now, I belive Gunntech aren't quitters, so I think they'd try again to recreate what Octobella was supposed to be, and actually succeeded. Thus, introducing my oc....

Kailani 'Kai' Whitlock

Now, I made Kailani here like any other of the PJ masks charater's.

Kailani's dad (who I have not named yet) worked for Gunntech. so when Octobella failed, Kailani's dad offered her as a test subject. And since Kailani wanted to get proper attention from her father she didn't mind. Hence the truama that impacted her

Considering Kailani is a octopus, I had to do a lot of studying. I mean, she has to have some Octopus traits. So I do have some, I shall state it in a list

The first thing I did was give Kailani some height, I tried to atleast. Considering how long octopus's tentacles are, I imagine in replacement, it really long arms and legs, hence her height

2. I Made Kailani colorblind! Octopuses are color blind to, but make up for it with their color changing bodies, odd pupils, color sensing arms, so I'm Applying that to Kailani. Kailani did see color before she was taken in as a test subject, then she became colorblind

3. Google states that Octopuses usually live in tropical areas so I made Kailani born in Hawaii! (She moved though when she was born)

4. From studying, I have found out that Octopuses have three hearts. I don't know if that should be applied to Kailani or not. I'm just going with that her heart is just bigger than most others, so Kailani can be a little more athletic than her peers.

5. Due to the experiments, Kailani's blood is blue (yes, Octopuses actually have blue blood) because of this, Kailani never tries to get hurt. She dosent want to make her dad angry

(Here's a concept sketch of younger Kailani during her test subject days)

as for Personality, I made Kailani very shy. Sure, she's extremely smart for her age, not to mention very creative. Mention something Kailani likes and she'll be willing to yap about it hours on end. However, she has extremely strong loyalty, all she wants is to be accepted and actually loved, so if helping Gunntech means she can earn her father's love, she'll put all of her energy for Gunntech

As how she works for Gunntech, I imagine they call on Kailani if they need someone to be held down or need help moving things (considering with Octopuses strength they can lift more than 700 pounds)

but, when not being a person who could fight someone off, I imagine they'd use Kailani as a strategist. Octopuses are actually very smart, and considering the human mind plus Octopus traits, Kailani would be making or hashing out ideas or theories to take down the 'villans' not realizing she's working for the bad guy.

Anyway, here's her concept suit design

Now I shall relax before I have to suffer at school tomorrow

Edit: I forgot to mention this, but I made Kailani have the hugest crush on Greg (she hasn't made a move cause she's too shy)

Now, if you guys have questions or want to know more about Kailani, I'm glad to give you answers!

[mikareo]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ A LOVE LETTER TO: THE LOUVRE ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . org. writing repost ꒱ . . . word count; 12.9k

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, geto's world has been black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide. 

contains; colorblind!geto, painter!reader, geto's mom is reader’s art mentor, he hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn, swearing, fluff, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, geto sucks at flirting author's note; repost of a bllk fic i have, titled 'rationalism'. if there are any plot errors pls let me know,, the original fic is still posted, i just wanted this up for jjk too,, enjoy!

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Suguru knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

However, despite how dearly he holds his mother to his heart, the issue with visiting her at this time of day is that she’s in her art studio. A place he loathes more than having to wear wet socks with sneakers. While it’s a beautiful space, with high wooden beams and floor to ceiling windows, he finds himself nauseous at the mere sight of the countless tubes of oil and acrylic paints. It’s not that the smell or colors are distasteful, it’s the fact that no matter how hard he squints and struggles, he cannot fathom what the simple color red looks like.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Suguru, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Suguru hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“I tried using cooler tones in the corner here, and then migrated towards warmth in the lower portion.” You’re beside him now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his position, and completely ignoring his personal space - all while he’s never met you before this day. Your finger is extended, pointing towards the artistic decisions you’re elaborating on that, in all honesty, he doesn’t give two shits about. “I’m thinking about sketching some paper cranes on top of it all, I want it to represent the change of seasons.”

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Suguru is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Suguru purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

You look utterly unimpressed with his evaluation. Your nose is scrunched in distaste and the fold beneath your right eye seems to be twitching in disapproval for your own artwork. “That’s all that you like?” You step ever so slightly closer to him, chin tilted up to meet his gaze, before retreating quickly and coddling your painting. “Perhaps I overestimated my color palette. I really thought it would be the outstanding moment of this piece, but I guess I could rework it if the shapes are all that matter—”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth, embarrassing him further as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck in an attempt to look casual, only for you to grab his wrist out of thin air. “Oh my god, you did!” Your mouth is agape, inspecting his tattered skin in shock - yet somehow he knows that you aren’t truly upset with him - you don't seem like that kind of person. “Did you not realize that you’ve got scarlet red all over your palms?”

Suguru’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

There’s a moment of silence, with the two of you displaying the most aloof expressions either of you have ever made, until your face lights up with laughter. He doesn’t understand what could possibly be so funny - his joke was awful - but the sound of your contagious fits of giggles make his heart feel a little bit warmer in a place that he commonly feels suffocated in. For the first time, the studio gives him a sense of comfort rather than distress - and he knows it's because he’s developing a very clear crush on the pretty girl beside him. 

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Suguru is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins, watching you wipe a tear of laughter from the crinkle of your right eye, “but why are you here? Do you have an appointment, because I could’ve sworn there weren’t any other people that were allowed in the studio at this hour—”

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Geto’s son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Suguru doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

The same student who he’s somehow enjoying talking to - though it’s mostly just you talking to his blank face - and is causing a soft yellow blush to form on his cheeks. He doesn’t actually know if yellow is the color related to blushing, but he thinks he’s read it somewhere before. 

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Suguru feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that. 

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Suguru doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Suguru recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Suguru can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Geto!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes. 

“Oh, Suguru! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Satoru decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Suguru is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail. 

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired. 

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

“He can be my portrait model!” You’re still talking. Please, for the love of God, stop talking. “You know how I’ve been trying to become better skilled in the emotional aspect of my paintings, he could definitely help me out by showing anxiety and embarrassment - and you’ve been telling me it’s about time that I found myself a model.”

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Suguru, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does. 

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Suguru’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’? 

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continue. The expression on your face is suddenly stern. Has he offended you in some way by saying no? “I’ll figure something else out, Miss Geto. I apologize if I overstepped.”

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Suguru is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize. 

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality. 

God, he’s so bad at flirting. 

“Thanks for finding my wallet, though.” Your fingers are suddenly touching his, momentarily grazing against his skin as you pluck your wallet from his hands. There’s no chance that you haven’t noticed the rising heat that’s currently warming the blossoms of his cheeks, and he hopes that you find it endearing. While he isn’t great with words, he likes to think that he may be at least a little bit cute. His mother always calls him a ‘cutie’ - which he appreciates, but it’s also so degrading for someone of his age. “Maybe I’ll be forgetful more often, now.”

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time. 

He can’t tell if you’re trying to be subtle and coy with the budding feelings that’re growing between the two of you, and you’re just as awful at flirting as he is - or if you’ve just given up on leaving small signs of attraction. Honestly, in the past few weeks of you leaving paintbrushes and lanyards in the studio, he’d assumed it was all naturally an accident. This, though? How do you expect him to believe that you left your entire satchel in the studio? Sure, you can be a little dense, but not that dense. 

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Suguru is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too. 

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together. 

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

You’d picked up on his feelings from the second time you met - when he willingly stayed behind in the studio for an extra two hours just to hear you ramble about the difference between heavy and soft body acrylic paints. There was something about the way you grinned at him. How your chin would angle upwards to his height in order to have a proper conversation. How you weren’t afraid to say anything and everything that was on your sporadic mind. How your eyes would sparkle at the dedicated eye contact he was making - letting you know that he was hanging on to every word that left your lips (which he just recently found out are pink - and boy does he wish to know what that undoubtedly lovely color looks like against your skin). 

He hates to compare you to a painting - which he still finds a positively dreadful blob of nothingness - but to him, you are one. You’re a captivating piece of art hanging on the walls of the nationally acclaimed museum in his mind. 

A captivating piece of art whose art of subtlety is extremely lacking, considering that your phone number is quite literally painted on the largest white canvas your easel can hold, in bold lettering that he would have to be visually blind to miss, plastered behind the hiding place of your bag.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will. 

It pains him to notice how he hadn’t thought twice about typing the digits into his text bar, smiling to himself at the sight of your make-shift contact with the horrid selfie you’d taken on his phone to be your future contact picture. Your hair is an utter mess, with flecks of paint scattered across your hairline - which, to be honest, look like dandruff to him with their lack of vivid color, but he told you that they resemble snowflakes. He lied - but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you. 

Without hesitating, he types a singular ‘hey’ before backtracking. What if you don’t know that it’s him texting you? What if you think that it���s a random stranger who just so happened to be in the art studio and thought to add your contact information to their phone? He better be more clear. 

‘Hello. You know me.’

Perfect. 

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Suguru can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Satoru still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Suguru. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Suguru is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

Swiveling on his heel, he turns to face your approaching figure. Your footsteps are lighter than air, likely being the reason as to how you managed to stealthily sneak in so quietly while he had been distracted with his phone. The light denim jeans that cover you from waist to ankles are perhaps his favorite pair you own. You’ve painted on them over time, sketching out a garden of patterns that don’t require color to appreciate. Your artistic ability is uncanny - he can’t deny the fact that you’re incredibly skilled - and he believes that you should be given an award for making ‘art’s number one hater’ a growing fan. 

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this. 

You skip towards him, your left foot following your right in a rhythm of peppiness, and lean up towards him with a shine in your eyes. God, you look so pretty. Sure, seeing you from a comfortable distance with an easel separating your bodies was nice and all, but when you pull stunts like this - with no room for him to scurry off and run - he actually takes the time to digest your features in their true beauty. You’re the artist, yet he seems to be the one who’s always studying you.

“Do you have any plans for today?” You ask in a curious tone. Your hands are held together behind your back as you send him a beaming grin with an upturned lip. “—because I was thinking about grabbing some tea, and it would be so unfortunate if I had to go all alone and sit by myself with all of those strangers around me. Who knows what could happen? If only there were someone who could protect me in case a sleazy guy asks for my number…”

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so. 

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Suguru’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often). 

“Then it’s a date!” Surging forwards, you take his arm in yours and link yourselves together. He’s initially shocked by the immediate physical connection you’ve managed to make within mere seconds, but he thinks that he likes it. It’s been so long since he’s even held hands with a girl, so he’s understandably tense, but you’re giving him time to adjust. After all, scaring him away would be your last intention. “I’ll even pay for your drink, since you were kind enough to find my lost satchel.”

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again. 

“Shit!” Suguru hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?” 

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Suguru hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution. 

Suguru is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years. 

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Suguru finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

Your arm is extended, offering him your drink of the day without hesitation. Every time you come here, arm-in-arm, you order something different. ‘There’s no fun without surprise’, is what you tell him after the consistent strange glances he sends your way when you’re ordering, and he can’t help but disagree. You’re very different individuals - and that difference is extremely apparent with the light, mint garnished tea in your glass compared to the dark roast coffee in his. 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world. 

As much as he likes you, which is more than he can explain, he can’t help but have that itching thought at the back of his mind that you’ll never truly be able to connect with one another. You bask in the beauty of the world around you. From the apparent golden sun showers and bouquets of stark red roses - two things that you’ve described to him in great detail amidst your walks through the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings -  to the countless brush strokes against the white canvas at his mother’s studio, you adore a world in color. 

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of. 

To be quite frank, it scares him. It keeps him up at night knowing that seeing the world through your eyes is impossible. That it’s a far off dream that is unobtainable, taunting him in his mind and heart like a bone dangling in front of a dog’s face. He wishes that he could admire the blue streaked skies and emerald green ferns that line the streets of the city. He yearns to feel overcome with pride at the sight of your watercolor drafts - which you attempt to show him after every class session to no avail - and congratulate you on the progress you’re making. There are so many things that he dreams of doing with you, dreams that exist solely in your world, as they’ll never be possible in his. 

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

How could he bind you to him? You’d be miserable looking through his eyes - having to see only hues of black, white, and grey, similar to the pencil sketches that you’ve openly shown your hatred for in front of him. ‘There’s just nothing there,’ is what you mumble to yourself. ‘No life, no anything without color.’ To which you then drop a single ounce of paint against the seemingly dreadful piece of art - and the sparkle in your eyes as it comes to life is something that he loves to see but can’t understand… 

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand. 

Suguru doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

He can’t blame you, though - it really is disgusting - but he also can’t tell you that he orders his coffee black since it’s a universal drink that appears the same to everyone who sees it. At least when he’s holding the steaming mug between his large palms, he knows that it appears to you as it does to him. That the divide that’s ripping a ravine through your connected hands is lessened in a sense - and you’re truly viewing one thing as the same. 

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions. 

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Suguru happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Suguru despite this. 

“Really?” Suguru dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?” 

“No, she has.” As your words continue, you take a long sip of your tea. He can feel his cheeks flush while you swallow. He loves anything you do. “Just little comments about negative space and color theory, but I’m getting there.”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.” 

Despite his seemingly rude reaction, you’re still gazing at him with a smile on your face. It isn’t an exceedingly joyful smile or one of excitement, but something of contentedness. You’ve become comfortable around him - shedded the hyperactive layers of skin that you display to onlooking strangers - and have begun to share the side of yourself that only your bedroom walls know. Seeing this side of you has made him fall even harder. Knowing that someone so confident, so bold, is just like him - caring so much about first impressions and likeability - and has their own insecurities is validating. Validating in the sense that you find him special enough to throw away the filter and be your true self in his presence. 

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Suguru - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.” 

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now. 

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea. 

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern. 

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything. 

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

Your sentence is more of a statement than a question. It’s as if there’s a machine in your brain, working through his given answer and comparing all of the other possibilities he could’ve said. There were endless responses to your inquiry, and he somehow managed to pick the worst one. 

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

“You’re not just a student, though.” His words are tumbling over one another in somersaults and you seem to perk up at his continuity. The hope in your heart grows a little bit larger, pulsating and yearning for him to say exactly what you’d been wanting for weeks-on-weeks. “You’re my mom’s special student.” 

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Suguru tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?” 

How the hell are you so fast?

Within seconds the two of you are at odds outside of the building. The weather is somewhat chilly - springtime having just come around with the cherry blossoms in full bloom - and it’s probably a beautiful day with the petals raining down on the pavement. You’d usually make a comment about how wonderful the horticulture was outside of the shop, but now you’re stomping over every fallen flower and budding stem that lies in the way of your rage-filled path. He’d always thought of you as a gentle soul, but apparently even gentle souls have their breaking points - and he never dreamed that he’d be yours.

“If I’m so special, what makes me different from the girl before me and the one before her?” This is the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him. “Did you take all of them out for drinks? Did they all get to spend one-on-one time with their mentor’s ‘handsome’ son? Did you lead all of them on, too? Suguru, what kind of answer is that?”

You’ve found yourselves in an alcove now - about a block from the cafe in a small garden nestled between two buildings. The blossoming trees continue to surround you from all sides, perfectly framing the tragic picture of him saying anything and everything you absolutely do not want to hear. A large sigh leaves your lips, heaving from your chest as if he’s popped a balloon and is pushing all of the air out with the strength of his smooth hands. 

“That’s not what I meant!” He pauses as you halt in place, slowly turning to face him like you're something out of a horror movie - a monster who’s ready to murder their prey. A gulp runs down his Adam’s apple. You’re terrifying when upset. “Please, just let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Suguru flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Sure, you aren’t the best with banter or having a crush - but dear God, you cannot possibly be that dense.” This is getting bad. “I’ve left hundreds of hints! Every single goddamn day - and you’ve picked up on all of them! You know, I thought that when you’d hold my hand or kiss my cheek that you actually meant something by it. I figured ‘he spends so much time with me, he can’t possibly not like me’, but no. I’m just a student.”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

If this were a scene in an animated film, your hair would be on fire now. Flames as high as mountain tops would be spiking in sharp peaks at every end of sentence and statement spitting from your mouth. Your normally warm irises would be drawn as ice cold, not leaving any room for life as they skate across his timid features - wishing for him to reach freezing level so you could smash him into a million pieces. 

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Suguru actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared. 

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Suguru been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger. 

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Suguru, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Suguru can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?” 

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Suguru doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in. 

“What the fuck did I do wrong that you resent me this much? Not even an hour ago all you wanted was to see me get down on one knee and profess my ‘undying’ love for you.” He’s so angry. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry. “Now I’m some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your wellbeing? If everything I’ve done hasn’t been enough, then I might as well go fuck myself, right? I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you! I’m sorry I can’t see the world through crystal lenses like you! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you!”

His face feels wet. When did he start to cry? Was it ten minutes ago? Five? Just now? The hurricane of emotions that he’s putting himself through is more than he’s endured in years - his mental blockage of his condition finally coming to light as his heart runs off of the rails - and you’ve definitely seemed to notice considering the concern etched into your expression. 

“I was never going to be perfect for you,” he begins with a softer tone. Perhaps his hot bundle of rage has subsided for a few moments. “I can’t be with you. I can’t understand how you see the world. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life listening to you ask me all of these questions and opinions on your work when I can’t even see it fully.”

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Suguru, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free. 

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

He’s laughing lightly, making up for the thoughtful silence that you’ve found yourself in. It’s like he can physically see the gears turning in your head as they attempt to make sense out of his statement. “It’s more of a rich grey - almost black - and it compliments your skin tone. You know, my mom used to tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through compliments. I’ve always tried my best to do that, but it clearly hasn’t been working.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does. 

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Suguru wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers. 

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Satoru’s call is distant from the turning gears within Suguru’s brain. He’s sure that his best friend has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Suguru feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk. 

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The bright-eyed man beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Suguru had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Satoru continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Suguru hates him.

“You’re so funny.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Suguru care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful funny guy who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being so unhelpful.”

Satoru scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Suguru stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Satoru holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his friend chuckles, causing Suguru to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Satoru continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Suguru takes his friend’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him. 

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Suguru’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other. 

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears. 

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth. 

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Suguru doesn’t even know. 

It could’ve been when you showed up to his community soccer game unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon number ten! I know you can do better than that! Beat their asses, Suguru!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of the opposing team - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of his qualms with his rivals from that day. Suguru was solely focused on playing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good. 

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things. 

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Suguru’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Suguru, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard. 

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Suguru! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Suguru’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Suguru feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Satoru to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his big brother was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Suguru on the back. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!” 

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Satoru eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Suguru knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along. 

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Suguru’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing. 

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Suguru knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you. 

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Suguru can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago. 

Suguru has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you. 

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back. 

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Suguru hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him. 

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before. 

“Suguru?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Suguru, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?” 

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Suguru Geto.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Suguru fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you. 

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Suguru relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Suguru’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right. 

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Suguru can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls. 

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Suguru almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful. 

Suguru brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it. 

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay. 

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it. 

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they’re a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own  - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him. 

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel. 

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Suguru cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss. 

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

This is a fancy-ass venue. 

Suguru can’t help but feel underdressed for the occasion, despite being clad in a fitted white button up and black tie, whilst his dress-shoes cramp his feet in the worst ways imaginable. He almost looks like that one moviestar in the romantic comedy you love so much. Was it the one with the rich guy in Singapore or the one where they worked in an office and he was a businessman? Suguru can’t remember. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter either way. He’s distracting himself too much, he needs to focus— tonight is one of the most important nights of your career. No, it is the most important night for your future career. His mother contacted every big art distributor and critic that she has professional relationships with. It’s your night…and wow did you kill it. 

It’s almost as if you’ve plastered yourself across the walls. Every art piece that his eyes roll over is exceptionally you - your personality, your passions, and your heart - and it’s obvious you’ve spent months curating the most perfect array of paintings a person could muster. 

He can read your story like an open book while he slowly makes his way through the gallery. There are paintings depicting your childhood, ones that remind him of the stories you tell him of your primary school drama and premature interests. That one must be when you broke your arm while learning to ride your bike. You’re particularly stuck on that story— strongly stating how upset you were because it was your dominant arm, halting your ability to paint for seven weeks. Referencing your painting passion, there’s a whole array of canvases dedicated to your love for art; beginning with inspirations of immaturity to skillful selections of texture techniques. Suguru is obviously no art critic, but if he were, he’d write a whole expose on how amazing you are. 

With his mind so engaged with your talent, he’s oblivious to the people passing by; so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice his own family approaching. 

“She’s talented isn’t she?” 

Holy shit. The familiar voice of his mother startles Suguru, but he instinctively wraps a loose arm around her waist and greets her with a grin. She returns the affectionate expression and it’s painfully obvious that he got his smile from her, and even more painfully obvious that they’re all trying to embarrass him when Satoru walks up with his teeth beaming.

“Your girlfriend’s a pro at this stuff, Suguru.” Satoru ruffles his best friend’s hair and lightly nudges his shoulder. “I told you something like this would happen one day! You’ve found yourself a dream girl.”

Suguru rolls his eyes in amusement at his friend’s quips, completely ignoring him and focusing on his mom. Satoru’s always been his number one supporter. Though he’d be surprised if Satoru actually kept a girlfriend longer than a month with his constant busy schedule and inability to focus on one girl at a time; but that’s a story for another day. What matters now is his mom’s praise of you.

“Y’know I always knew she had an innate ability.” Miss Geto has a faint smile on her face, gazing at her son with nothing but pure happiness. It’s a true display of a mother’s love for her child, and Suguru doesn’t know what he’d do without her guidance. She squeezes his side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. God, he’d be so embarrassed if his friends saw this. “Though, I always thought she specialized in artwork.”

Hm? Suguru sends a puzzled glance in her direction. What is she going on about?

His mom continues, knowing her son well enough that he needs a clear explanation in order to understand anything at all, and presses her hand against his chest. “I didn’t realize she was so skilled at touching hearts.”

His heart is beating faster at the mere thought of your beauty.

There are tears behind Miss Geto’s eyes and Suguru can feel the waterworks attempting to break his own dam. They’re an emotional duo, him and his mom, Satoru gets tired of their antics sometimes— but Suguru knows he loves them. His mom always knows the right thing to say. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Suguru.”

Satoru smiles, nodding in agreement. “You seem so at ease. It’s cute.”

Reflexively, he pulls them both into a big hug— which is the first girl-related hug he’s given Satoru since he was a teenager, seventeen years old and inseparable. Suguru finally understands what it means to love and be loved, all because of you; and now he can apply that same love to his perspective on life, which was dreary for so long. The overwhelming comfort he feels in his family’s arms is the same warmth he felt when he was a child, to which he ran into his mother’s arms at any moment for a grasp at joy. For a long time, Suguru believed that it was only possible to have a singular love. Oh how wrong he was. 

“I get it now.” he says softly into their ears. “She helped me understand.”

“And we’re happy for you,” Satoru pats him on the back as hard as he can, eliciting a threatening glare from his best friend, to which Suguru’s mother laughs. 

“Check out the centerpieces down the hall.” Miss Geto nudges Suguru on, standing beside Satoru. “I think you’ll love them, sweetheart.”

With their encouragement, he carries on with the gallery and down the straight hallway of evolving paintings. Every step he takes, seems to carry him into a new era of your life. It’s almost as if he’s time traveling through memories that seemingly morph from abstract to realistic art; and he learns more and more about you with each passing second, ultimately leading towards one large painting in the center of the room. 

Holy shit. You’re breathtaking. 

Never in Suguru’s life has his world stopped due to paint on canvas— but right now, it feels like every single brush stroke is a frozen second that he gets to relive again and again, just basking in the presence of your beautiful skill.

The way you’ve outlined your hair with thin lines and highlighted your lovely cheekbones, is nothing short of masterful. If he looks close enough, he can understand the comforting feeling of cupping your face with just his eyes. He didn’t even know you did self-portraits, but now he wishes he could hang this very one right above his couch; to show off the talent of his amazing girlfriend for everyone to see (not that he actually has many friends other than his former classmates). 

Where are you? He needs to let you know how special it is to be with someone like you—

“Cat got your tongue?”

Speak of the devil.

“Do you like it?” You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

You said the same thing when you first met.

Suguru looks between you and the painting, now realizing that no matter how masterful your skill is, it’s impossible to capture just how gorgeous you are in any form of art. You’re simply exquisite. The most talented painter in the world wouldn’t know how to appreciate your beauty. Davinci? No. Botticelli? No. Di Angelo? Not even he could sculpt your features to perfection. However, despite his high standards, Suguru believes that your self portrait is the greatest thing he’s ever seen. 

The familiar feeling of flusteredness grows on his cheeks as he holds eye-contact with you, wondering what color it is you’re wearing. He bets it’s red, you always wear red around him. “I love it.”

As your right hand finds his palm, the left reaches up and cups his cheek. With a gentle touch, your lips are on his and Suguru feels his head take a spin on the merry-go-round of love. He can’t get enough of you. If he had a choice, he’d spend every waking second of his day peppering you in light kisses on every part of your body— and he’d make sure that you never felt loneliness again. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and he’s made it his life’s goal to give that to you.

Slowly, he begins to feel your smile against his lips and you pull away with a lovesick gaze. He pulls you into his chest, cradling your head and kissing it softly before whispering how proud he is, and it’s almost unbelievable how far Suguru’s come. Somehow you’ve lured him into a bottomless ravine where the only resource to live is to be hopelessly in love with you— and truthfully, he never wants to escape. You’re everything to him. 

“You love it?” your eyes are shining brighter than the sun. “You haven’t even seen my best work yet.”

“Oh?’ Suguru raises his brows, mocking surprise at your statement. “Well now you have to show me. It’s only fair.”

You place your hands on his chest and peck his lips before spinning him around. He’s confused for a moment, wondering what you’re doing when you could’ve just led him to the canvas instead of guiding him around like it’s a dance class…but then he sees it. 

He sees himself. 

Never in his life has he completely understood what being in love is. Yes, he's felt love. From his mother, who raised him to be the man he is; caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. From his best friend, who helped him understand ambition and sacrifice. From his community, who challenge him to be the best he possibly can and to support one another without holding grudges. He's felt different types of love from so many people in his life. Familial. Platonic. Admiration. This is different, though. The love you show him is true love. It's the kind of love that movie stars win awards for portraying. It's the fantasy that kids dream about having when they grow up into big adults. It's the thing he thought was impossible to obtain, but was lucky enough to stumble upon you in that empty art studio on the best day of his life. 

He didn't know love could be expressed in this kind of way. Through the very same paint strokes and brush marks that used to make him nauseous with hatred. Seeing your masterpiece, he doesn't understand how he could ever hate something so amazing. Art is spectacular. No. Your art is spectacular. You are spectacular. 

"You love it right?" You're trying your best not to giggle at his awestruck reaction. "Want to know the best part?"

Suguru can feel himself nodding, desperately reaching for your hand in an attempt to ground himself from the air he's walking on— and you begin to explain. "It's a dual piece. Notice how we're facing each other?"

Oh my god, you are facing each other. He hadn't noticed it before, but he can see clearly now. You've placed him in the dead center of the room, giving him a full view of both of the paintings— opposite of one another on two opposing easels. "Tell me more, baby." His voice is nothing louder than a whisper, only for you to hear.

"I'm painted in black and white."

Oh?

"You're painted in color."

...Oh.

"I wanted to show how love knows no bounds. There's beauty in how you see me and how I see you. It doesn't matter that I'm colorless to you, you still look at me like I'm the prettiest girl in the world; and I only wish you could understand how vibrant your eyes are, Suguru. You're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life."

He loves you.

He loves you so, so much. 

A part of his heart feels like he's falling in love with you all over again. It's growing larger and larger, unable to contain the capacity of feelings he holds for you. He's so overwhelmed with joy that tears begin to fight to escape his eyes, ultimately dripping down his cheeks like watercolor on paper, and he sweeps you into the tightest hug known to man.

There's really only one thing left to do. One thing to close this chapter and carry on with the rest of your love story, something that's sacred only between the two of you. Something that he hopes to say to you everyday, every night, every hour, and every minute that he can.

"I love you."

[screamingforests]

Hello hello I hope your weekend is going well!! May I humbly request more cat shifter!Reader? What happens after they run out while sick?

It went very well and my birthday is today so I'll be having fun :) and absolutely you can!

Part 2 of Catshifter au

~

You collapsed. Your sick body couldn't continue on running, too drained of energy. Your energy had been sapped during the rapid shift of the previous night and the restless sleep hadn't helped.

You had just barely managed to slip under a dumpster before falling, so you were out of the rain. Small mercies.

Meanwhile, the boys were worrying like crazy. First off, they hadn't been expecting you to be a shifter thing. They were military. Of course, they had heard about the shifter experiments, but they never expected to meet that one escaped experiment.

Price was on the phone, talking to Laswell. He was trying to get more information on it all, why the program started, how you had escaped, and what he needed to expect. He needed some form of control - this time it was knowledge.

Soap and Gaz had gone out on foot, calling out for you. Hell, they didn't even know your name. They were just trying to find you. You were sick and they had bleeding hearts. The questions could come after they knew you were safe.

Ghost was browsing missing persons lists online, trying to place your face. Trying to get a name for you, even if he knew it would probably be a dead end. He had also readied the guest bedroom, somewhere safe for Soap and Gaz to put you.

Hours later, you were out wandering again, this time in human form. You needed to get to your apartment to get some medicine. Well, the few dollars you had were going to go to the cheapest medicine you could find. Then you could curl up in cat form and sleep.

What you didn't expect was to run into Gaz as you tried to enter the small corner store, money bills crumpled in your hand. Eyes hazy with your bad fever. You hadn't even recognized him at first, your cat eyes being colorblind, but it was the hat that gave him away. You could easily spot that same blue in both forms.

So, you ducked your head and pulled the worn coat closer, just trying to ignore him.

Gaz wasn't having any of that. He recognized your worn, sick look right away. And your face was recognizable from the pure shock of when he first saw it.

He reached out and grabbed your elbow, "are you okay?" Worry clouding his eyes.

You froze for just a moment. Eyes flicking about. Your eyes were the exact same shade as they were in your other form, he knew it was you and you couldn't deny it.

"Why don't you come with me? We'll help you, promise." Gaz adds on, voice earnest. Your eyes scan his face. "No going back, we'll keep you safe."

You hold his gaze for a minute, then two, tension dragging down the atmosphere. Even people around you were uncomfortable. But then, almost imperceptibly, you nod.

His smile is blinding.

~

So that's how you found yourself back at their house, mostly shellshocked. Gaz had been quick to whisk you away after grabbing medicine, which he didn't let you pay for when you silently offered your crumpled money.

Ghost was on the defense and wrapped you tightly in a big blanket. christ, it was to be thrice the size of a normal king blanket and sat you on the couch where they could watch you. Soap clanked around in the kitchen, trying to make a soup, but he didn't know if all foods were safe for you or not.

Price was sat in front of you, his blue eyes glued onto your face. You stared back at him, just as unblinking. It reminded you a lot of the scientists stares. You didn't like it.

So you really couldn't stop the small growl building in your throat. Even if you didn't like talking, you had no problem using your cat-like vocals to voice your dislike and annoyance of his stare.

Price clears his throat and looks away, momentarily looking at Gaz. Something passes between their gazes, something you can't decipher, but it puts you on edge.

"Eat, rest, we'll talk when you feel better," Price states before getting up and walking down the hallway. You watch him go.

Soap brings out a big bowl of soup, which he hands to Ghost. Ghost sits next to you and holds up a spoon.

He was feeding you.

The thought makes you bristle for a moment, but your hands were well and truly trapped in the blanket. So you just pull a face but let him feed you silently.

Being so warm and belly full of the best meal you've had in months, your pupils blow out and a small purr bubbles out of your throat. Ghost looks satisfied at that and helps you finish off the soup before leaving.

Soap takes up the rear where Ghost leaves, and he guides you to the guestroom. The scot talks a mile a minute, which you struggle to keep up with. You weren't used to so much attention, attention that didn't hurt. Soap is gentle as he helps you get in bed, tucking you in more.

You just look at him and shift into your cat form and go beneath the bed instead. You miss the small pout on his face.

But even with the tense moments, this was the safest you had felt in a long time. That comfort helps you fall asleep.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[lucy-the-demon]

The one thing i hate about the Stardew valley fandom is how a lot of people demonize mental health issues. Like, Being somebody with clinical depression, PTSD and autism it really upsets me when people are mean about Shane and Kent.

They treat Hailey like she's the perfect woman because she's mean then Treat Shane like the scum of the earth for being mean as well.

I have a caffine addiction, and while it's not as horrible as having an alcohol addiction it's still an addiction that im trying to overcome and i have depression as well. So seeing people treat Shane like that, plus calling him a liar when he's not 100% happy and sober all the time it really upsets me to see how he's treated, and i don't like him because I want to fix him, its just nice to see depression portrayed so realistically and to feel represented in media and i just want to be there for him. I can relate to him, and when people insult him and treat him like the bad guy for being mean and depressed and not 100% sober i feel like im doing something wrong and I'm a bad person for having depression and anxiety

And i have PTSD over very different things then kent, but I understand things that trigger memories to events, if I see the person who mistreated me in life or if somebody mentions middle school I get really upset and will go on a rant about it, when I get so upset I get angry im brought back to those horrible memories, and I understand why hes stressed over something that seems minimal to others And people are mean about him too, hes not a bad person he's just got PTSD and he doesn't know how to handle it. I feel bad for him when the community is mean to him over that cutscene.

and these are fictional characters it makes me scared how they would treat a real human being with similar issues, like me. I joke about if you hate these characters you should hate me too but like, it really pisses me off how this community treats mental illnesses And being somebody with these issues i really just want to spread awareness on how i personally feel when people say horrible things about these clearly mentally ill characters that have issues that real people have

Mental illness isn't black and white y'know, and if you think it is i think you might wanna get your eyes checked because you might just be completely colorblind, or blind in general. the actual mental toll it puts on real people to be represented by characters who's mental illnesses are portrayed very realistically only to be treated poorly by uneducated fans of the series/game/movie/ etc. It's very heartbreaking to me personally..

I just want fans of Stardew to be more mindful of characters like shane and Kent because there are real people like them that have the same issues as them. You don't have to like them just understand that real people have been through the same things they have and be respectful of that. i mean I don't like Harvey but I am respectful of people with anxiety, I have anxiety too. I think everyone does at this point.. but i would never undermine his anxiety or say he's a horrible person Because he's anxious that's a disgusting thing to imply and it should be the same way with characters like shane and Kent but it's not that way

The double standard with shane and hailey is an argument that may just involve sexism but that's an entirely different argument that i don't wanna get into rn, but just know, you don't necessarily have to be a nice person to be a good person, and vise versa.

Tldr: you guys need to stop saying Shane and kent are bad people for having mental illnesses, it's really gross and insulting to those with mental illnesses

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

I was wondering if you can please write fanfic. Where the reader is a mother of young twins who is fiercely protective of them because one of them is completely colorblind and the other one is going deaf and nobody on the team knows of their existence.

So one day her babysitter can’t work or something do whatever you like at this part, but basically, the NCIS team finds out about the twins and her fierceness protectiveness and Leroy Jethro is like ok I’m kinda in love with you to you’re officially Mrs. Gibbs five and have fun with it.

Do whatever you like with this and I hope you enjoy writing it. I hope you have a wonderful year a wonderful month in your writing is amazing and I appreciate you.

Fierce Love

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Flashbacks, Mentions of SA, Kidnapping, Mild Language, Violence, Guns, Blood, Suggestive, Angst, Fluff, etc.

Prompt: You are a mother of young twins, one who is colorblind and the other who is going deaf. The team doesn’t know of their existence until something happens to the babysitter who so happens to be your goddaughter. The team finds that you are fiercely protective and fiercely in love with your kids. But, this stands out more to Gibbs because he’s been trying to figure out for

Sidenotes: I used a scene from “The Rookie”, not to the exact measures, but similar.

You look down at the twins you held, your eyes instantly teary as you looked at the two bundles that saved you. They were perfect with their ten fingers, their ten toes, their tiny noses, their tiny lips and their healthy selves.

Adeline Iridessa Y/L/N, you sweet baby girl who was younger by a few minutes. Then her older brother by only minutes, Alexander Archer Y/L/N.

"Mommy will always protect you." You whisper softly.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm afraid to tell you that Adeline is colorblind. Alexander is rapidly losing hearing and we fear he may be deaf." Dr. Bryant explains.

You were silent for a moment, trying to soak in this information. You look at the twins for a moment before turning back to him.

"Is there anything we can do to try and preserve and maybe even salvage what hearing Alex has?" You ask.

"We could try some tubes, however I fear that his case is too severe. Here are some pamphlets. This will help Alexander if he needs to learn sign language. It's always good starting them off at a young age anyway. They tend to retain the language better and he will be better. You may want to also have Adeline learn the language for her brother as well." He explains.

You nod, looking at the twins who were wide awake, looking around curiously. Your heart aches knowing that Adeline will never get to see such beautiful colors because she has achromatopsia color blindness and then Alexander will eventually lose his hearing altogether.

4 YEARS LATER

You were sitting at your bullpen, trying to figure out how to make their 5th birthday party the best birthday ever for them. You know you probably spoiled them too much, but they were your babies and you'd be damned if you ever let something happen to them.

The thought of sending them to school was agonizing. Knowing that they were getting older was scary. These were your babies and the thought of anything happening to them sent you into a protective mode instantly.

"Alright, what do we have?" Gibbs asks, coming back from getting coffee.

Tony, Ziva and Tim immediately are up and fighting to tell their finds. However, Gibbs was focused on you who seem distracted on something.

Gibbs was able to read everyone. However, after four years of working for him, he still was trying to figure you out. Almost everything about your file was confidential. He was so brutal on you when you first came here, however he has gotten better over time.

The elevator doors open and everyone turns back. You stand slowly as you see your twins exit the elevator hand in hand with your neighbor following behind them.

"Mommy!" Adeline squeals, running to you and hugging you.

You squat down, hugging her and Alexander. You gently push them back and look to Alexander, signing, "What's wrong baby boy?" 

He looked pale and like he wasn't feeling the greatest. Which was strange because before you left this morning, you made sure to make sure both were tucked in and weren't running fevers.

He sighs, signing, "Just worried and tired." You frown, gently guiding them both behind your desk, lifting them both into your chair before your neighbor walks to you.

"Y/N/N, Lexi answered the door this morning and their was a man there who was claiming to be the twins' father. The twins followed your "game" as Adeline put it if a stranger shows up. Lexi was taken by that man. And I came over here as fast I could." She explains.

You let a slow breath out as your heart rate picks up. Lexi was a good girl. She was your older sisters daughter. Lexi made you realize how much you wanted kids of your own. Lexi was like a daughter to you. You look at the twins, knowing that Lexi would do anything for them—just like you—which is probably how she ended up in this situation to begin with.

"Thank you, Bebe. You did the right thing." You say.

"Do you want me to take the twins so that you can work and get Lexi back?" She asks.

"No, no, it's alright. I think I'd feel better knowing they are with me. Thank you, Bebe. I'd say yes if I felt safe about it, but their father is...a very unpredictable man. I don't want to put you or the twins in danger." You explain.

It made you feel guilty, like you didn't trust Bebe, but thankfully she understood where you were coming from. She gave you a big hug, promising that everything would be okay and that Lexi was a tough girl. You knew Lexi was tough. You also knew Lexi would have left clues for you. She leaves and you turn to your team who was watching.

"You have kids?" Tony asks surprised.

"Yes." You say a bit more defensively than you expected, moving in front of the twins.

"Hey, easy there mama bear. I'm just surprised. You have no pictures and you've never mentioned them." He says, putting his hands up in surrender.

You clench your jaw, choosing to keep silent. These were your babies. You know your team wouldn't do anything to them. You knew that they'd protect them just as fiercely as you. However, your protective side was running wild knowing their father was after them and knowing he had Lexi.

Gibbs was staring at you, a small smirk on his lips. He could finally read you and put every piece to the puzzle together about you. It was like you were an open book right now.

I'm so in love with her, he thinks to himself.

"That's a pretty dress you have on sweetie. Is pink your favorite color?" Ziva asks and your heart clenches.

"Adeline can't see colors. She has achromatopsia color blindness. Alexander is deaf...he lost all of his hearing by the time he was one. He knows sign language though. So does Adeline. He can also read lips very well. Both of them can. Even though Adeline can talk, sign language and reading lips is a second nature to her." You explain.

You didn't realize you were nervously rambling, but the team did and smiled softly. They understood the normal moms fierce love for their child, however yours was far fiercer and far more protective. And it wasn't because you were an NCIS agent. It was because both of your babies were special.

"Mommy says pink is my color. And I trust mommy." Adeline says, smiling at Ziva who grins.

"Well, your mommy is very much right. Pink is definitely your color." She says.

"Alex, Addy...this is mommy's friends. That's Ziva, this is Tim and that's Tony. That's mommy's boss, Gibbs." You say, pointing to each of them.

Adeline was in a full conversation with Tony, Tim and Ziva. Alexander was looking at Gibbs who crouches down to his height and signs, "Are you okay?"

Alexander smiles and you look down, a light blush on your cheeks. You always had what Abby liked to call a "school-girl crush" on Gibbs. The elevator doors open and you look over to see Abby skipping towards you.

"Oh my goodness! They are so cute!" She exclaims.

"Mommy, who is that?" Adeline asks while looking at you.

"Mommy?" Abby asks, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N is a mom, Abby. She's just been trying to keep them safe from their father." Gibbs explains before going back to signing with Alexander.

"What? You didn't trust us?" Abby asks.

"Abs, that isn't the case...their father is a terrible man. I thought he was still in prison. But, he isn't and he has my goddaughter who babysits for me...and because he is out, he was trying to get the twins. I just was scared that mostly you would get attached and what if I had to up and leave one day with the twins? I knew staying in one place meant he'd find me. I just..." You trail off and sit down as you bury your head in your hands.

"You have made a family. It explains why you were so distant. How did you and the father meet?" Tim asks.

"I was kidnapped by him when I was undercover. I'm sure you can put the pieces together." You mumble.

"Y/N/N." Abby whispers with watery eyes.

"It's fine. I don't dwell on the past. Not to mention, I've got these two who saved me." You murmur, lifting your head to look at your twins.

The team shared pitiful smiles, never realizing what you have gone through. You let a shaky breath out, moving your hands to your knees.

"They know sign language?" Abby asks while looking at Alexander.

"Alexander is deaf. He can read lips and sign, and Adeline can too. I made her learn too for him. Adeline has achromatopsia color blindness." You explain.

"Okay. Y/N, would you be okay with Abby taking them so that we can get your goddaughter back? And so I can personally speak with the bastard?" Gibbs asks.

"Y-Yeah, of course. Abby...I...I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I...I probably—." You start until she covers your mouth.

"Don't apologize. I understand and I'm not mad. However, I'm making them call me Aunt Abby." She says and you laugh.

"Alright. I mean I've talked about all of you guys to them and that's kind of how I've labeled you. Personally, I think you should be their godmother but if you want to be Aunt Abby, well I guess I'll have to find a different godmother." You say casually as you shrug with a smile and she gasps before squealing and hugging you.

"I want to be the godmother!" She exclaims.

You chuckle and stand before you tap your foot three times pretty hard on the ground. Alexander turns to you, feeling the vibrations on the ground.

"Come here." You sign and he walks over to you.

You kneel and gently grasp Adeline's elbow and she looks at you before moving to stand by Alexander.

"I want you guys to meet someone else. This is your godmother and one of mommy's other friends." You say and sign.

"Okay mommy, who is it?" Adeline asks.

You point to Abby and they both turn. Abby kneels and starts to sign to them which you couldn't help, but smile at Alexander's excitement. He really struggled because it wasn't like everyone knew sign language.

You turn and see a hand outstretched in front of you. It was Gibbs. You take it and he helps you up. You turn to look at the twins who seemed to be in awe. You focus on Abby's hands and notice she is telling them about her lab. You laugh quietly. Both of your twins were in love with anything to do with science so you knew they'd be just fine with Abby.

Abby looks at you and grins before she takes their hands and goes to lead them to the elevator. You find yourself having an internal battle, wanting to go with them, but you managed to keep yourself rooted to where you stood. You feel a hand on your hip and turn to see Gibbs.

"They are with Abby. They are safe." He mumbles.

You nod, knowing he was right and he pats your hip twice as Tony excitedly announces since it's your case, your lead.

"We should start at my house. Lexi is a smart girl and she would've left clues. I know her. And knowing that man, he probably searched the house for the twins. But, Lexi told them to play that game when a stranger comes over. It's basically a game to them, but it's something I've done in case someone tries to get to the twins. They have a hiding spot. Lexi and I are the only ones aware of that spot." You explain.

"It's good you had that in place." Ziva says as you all head to the elevator.

"I know I probably seem like an overbearing mom and that I'm really overprotective, it's just...I worry. And Alexander can't hear what's going on and I know Adeline will talk to anyone and everyone because she doesn't understand the dangers of talking to strangers. She thinks I'm mean for saying we can't talk to people we don't know." You explain.

"Y/N, we aren't judging you. Your an amazing mother. You have no need to worry." Gibbs says softly.

You look at him for a moment and nod. You go with Gibbs to the car as the other three go to the van. You felt extremely stressed and nervous so when traffic hit, it was even more stressful.

"They arrived at the house. I'd try to get us out but we are blocked in." Gibbs says.

You sigh, running a shaky hand through your hair. He studies you for a moment before putting a hand on your thigh. You look at him and he smiles slightly.

"We will get her back." He says.

It was silent, his hand on your thigh and your brain was now running about your "school-girl crush" on him.

"Gibbs, I need to tell you something." You admit.

"I know." He says softly, grinning.

"You know?" You ask confused.

"I know." He says, the both of you looking at each other.

"Then what was I going to say?" You ask.

"That you like me." He says and your cheeks flush.

"Was it really that obvious?" You ask quietly and he chuckles.

"Trust me, I only know because I was looking for the same signs." He says, looking ahead.

"Wait, you like me too?" You ask.

"Mhm. After we wrap up this case and the other one we are working on, I'd like to have you over for dinner." He says.

"I'd like that a lot." You say softly, your cheeks flushing red.

"Alright, we got prints but that's all." Tony says once you arrive.

You walk into the house and look at the end table and grab the notepad.

"License plate." You say and Tony grabs it, looking at it confused.

"She etched it in?" He asks.

"You do what you have to do. Plus he would've saw it and I'm sure we would have found her already, just not the way we wanted." You say, doing your own investigation.

"Name." Gibbs says, grabbing a candy wrapped off the ground.

"She probably didn't think Bebe would've witnessed it all." You murmur as you knew who it was.

"What's this?" Tim asks.

You walk into the living room again and see the TV was glitching and you laugh. Soon Lexi's face was on the TV.

"Oh thank god. I knew you'd be there." She says.

"We are coming for you Lex." You say.

"The twins, are they alright?" She asks.

"Yes, they are. Are you okay?" You ask.

"A little roughed up, but you should see him." She says with a grin and you smile slightly.

"Just be careful. If he loses his temper, it will be bad. Don't antagonize. Just comply with whatever he says. I'm hurrying. Do you know where your at?" You ask.

"I kind of stole his phone and I'm using it to somehow hack into your router so that I can display this. I'm in the back of a truck. It's a semi-truck. It's been moving ever since he left. I don't know where he is taking me." She says.

"Did he say anything to you?" You ask.

"He's rambling. It's like he's having some psychosis episode." She says.

"He might've mentioned where he's bringing you though, Lexi. Think." Gibbs says.

"He said something about a desert and a cabin. He also said he was going to tattoo my date of death on me. That's what that tattoo on your thigh is, isn't it?" She asks.

"Yeah. He's taking you back to where everything happened with me. Okay. Listen to me. If I don't get there before he does the tattoo and the barrel, don't panic. Slow breaths. It will give us more time to find you." You say seriously.

"Barrel? What the hell did he do to you? And is he actually the twins' father? Were you guys dating or something?" She asks.

"He's a sociopath, Lexi. I was really hoping he'd do some ransom thing but clearly he is still just as delusional as he use to be." You say.

"Oh shit. I've got to go." She says and the video cuts out.

"I think we need to review your case." Gibbs says.

"He kidnapped me. He proceeded to SA me. Lexi is safe there. He happens to like (your hair color). She's (her hair color). However he doesn't like (her hair color). That was who we were finding in the barrels. Well, then he tattooed the day he thought I was going to die, but little did he know I had a whole team ready to bring me home. So, I wasn't in the barrel long. A few hours, but that's it." You explain.

Gibbs and you run in from the front, Tony and Ziva going in through the back with Tim following not long behind him.

"Zayn, where is she?" You ask, your gun on him.

"I want my kids. Give me my kids." He snaps.

"They aren't your kids. You'll never be a father to them. They are my kids and I'd be damned if you ever try to get near them again because if you try, I'll shoot you." You say lowly, further pressing the gun against his temple to get the point across.

"And they say I'm crazy." He laughs.

"She isn't crazy. She's a mother and a mothers love for their children is such a crazy thing because a mother would do anything for their child. She's fiercely in love with those kids and she will fiercely protect them, no matter what." Gibbs says, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

Tony arrests him and you step out of Gibbs' hold and head outside. You knew he wouldn't have put her close to the cabin. He would have gone a bit further out. But, it would be close enough to his property so he could see it. You get to the edge of the hill and look over it before something sparkles in the sun. You start hurrying down the hill as Gibbs yells for you to wait.

You kneel and grab it. It was her ring. You shove it in your pocket before digging around, pushing the sand away when you see the top of the barrel. You start to lift the lid and toss it to the side.

"Y-Y/N?" She whispers.

"Oh baby. It's okay. I'm here. I promised I would be here." You murmur as your team joins you.

Tony helps get her out of the barrel and you sit next to her. She leans her head against your chest before breaking into tears. You shush her softly, petting her hair.

"He told me what he did to you. He told me everything. Why did you lie to us? You went through all of that alone and had no help. And we were so hard on you because we thought you should've worked it out. We didn't know he did those things." She sobs.

"Lexi, shhh...I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be treated any different. Your okay and I'm okay. I didn't take anything you guys said to heart because I knew you guys didn't know." You explain softly.

"What do you think of my tattoo?" She says, trying to smile and you look at her leg.

"I think you've got one hell of a story to tell. Don't look at it and think of this. Think of it as surviving. Because you did survive something horrific." You said.

"I don't even feel scared. I never felt scared once because I knew you'd find me. I did what you said to. Slow breaths. Because I knew you'd find me. I don't even care about that tattoo. This should bother me more than it is, but it isn't." She says.

"You could be in shock." Tim says.

"No. Not in shock. Right, look at my pupils." She says.

"She's right. She isn't in shock. She use to be a nurse." You explain.

"Your a strong girl. And you know your aunt well. You knew she'd find you. You are very brave after today." Gibbs says.

"Can you walk?" You ask.

"I'm not going to lie, I think I sprained my ankle." She says.

"How did you do that?" You ask confused.

"I full on round house kicked him, but then I screwed up my footing. I sooooo could've got away if I didn't screw that up. It so reminded me of this movie. I felt like a total badass too. Then I ruined it." She says and you couldn't help, but laugh.

"Well come on. I'll carry you up." You say.

"What? You can't do that." She says.

"Piggy back ride? I think I can." You say.

After getting situated, you start up the hill with your team. You had Tony and Gibbs on either side of you, in case you lose your footing. Lexi was babbling on with Tim about some game.

You move off of Gibbs, laying your head on his bare chest as you move the sheets up to cover your bare body.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It has been a little of six months since it had became official between you both. He stayed over at your house almost every day. You had been over to his house a few times, but you didn't like being away from the twins for long.

He noticed that and quickly made sure to make it your house that you guys went to most of the time. He found himself thinking about how you use to be so eager to get home and frustrated when you couldn't leave yet because of a case and yet, now he knew why you were so eager to get home. You had two wonderful kids that you adored fiercely and he found himself loving them just as you do.

"Okay, I've realized something." He murmurs.

"And what is that?" You ask softly, tracing random patterns on his chest.

"I'm so in love with you and I think it's time you become Mrs. Gibbs number five. Okay, you may end up Mrs. Gibbs number five, however I want you to be the last Mrs. Gibbs." He says.

"Wait...are you...purposing?" You ask, sitting up on your elbow to look at him.

"Not yet...I want to purpose the way you deserve it. But, what do you think?" He asks.

"I...I've honestly been wondering when your going to ask the damn question." You admit as you laugh softly and he joins you.

"Soon." He promises.

"I know you ain't crazy about the whole idea of getting married in front of people unless it's a judge, but if this is gonna be the only time I get married, I want the whole experience." You say and he chuckles.

"Then we better give you the experience because this is the only time you'll be getting married." He says and you laugh.

"Mrs. Y/N Gibbs...I like the sound of that." You murmur.

"Hm...me too. What about Adeline Gibbs and Alexander Gibbs?" He suggests and you cover your mouth as your eyes water.

"Y-You'd really want that?" You ask softly.

"Of course. I love them like they are my own. They are my kids." He says, his own eyes watering and you grin.

"I'd love that. And what about Luna Shannon Gibbs and Leroy Jethro-Arlo Gibbs?" You ask and he shoots up, looking down at you confused.

"Why are you trying to change the twins' names?" He asks.

"Well...actually. I'm not." You say softly.

It was quiet as he looked down at you with a confused look. You waited, smiling softly as you knew he was about to figure it out.

"Your pregnant...with twins?" He asks.

"Mhm." You hum.

"Wow...this is...amazing. For Luna...can we do Luna-Kate Shannon Gibbs?" He asks.

"Of course. I love that. Kate would be honored." You murmur.

"I miss her still. It's been almost what three or four years and I still miss her." He admits.

"I miss her too, Jethro. She was a good women, but she died doing what she loved most. She'll forever be remembered." You murmur, sitting up with the blankets wrapped tightly around your front.

He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Mommy! Mommy! It's time to get up! It's our first day of school!" Adeline exclaims.

"Can we just keep them home forever?" You ask and he chuckles as he gets up to get dressed.

"No, we can't. Come on. You go shower real quick and I'll start breakfast. Then we will switch so that you finish it and I shower. Hopefully, we can all eat together and then we will take them to school and we will go work." He says.

You nod, sighing as you stand. You left the blankets on the bed and you look over at him to see his eyes on the tattoo from the unsub. You frown, covering it with your hand as you hurry to the bathroom and close the door. You heard him sigh and curse, but you needed a moment.

You were kind of sad that it was the twins' first day. You made sure to get plenty of pictures and now it was silent between Jethro and you on your guys' way to work.

"Baby?" He says.

"Hm?" You hum.

You were a little surprised he called you that. He typically only does when he's deep in thought or scared shitless. So, you clue it that he was deep in thought.

"I didn't mean to make you upset this morning." He admits.

"I wasn't upset." You say.

"You covered it and ran off to the bathroom like a dog with its tail between its legs." He deadpans.

"I wasn't upset though. I just...I wouldn't even say self-conscious. However, I know when you look at it, your putting every piece of what happened to me, together. You know what that date means. Anyone else will look at it and assume it's for someone or it's some joke. But, it's the day I was supposed to die. Plus, it kind of springs up memories on me. I need to get it removed, but I don't for the time for it and I don't want to be asked about it either." You admit.

"Baby, when I look at that...it just makes me realize what you've been through and how strong you are. You are a fighter and I love how strong and how brave and how fierce you are." He say and you smile slightly.

"I love you." You murmur.

"I love you too, hon." He says, grabbing your hand.

[ladytabletop]

Do you happen to have any resources regarding accessibility in ttrpg design? About design, colours, phrasing of text or anything else that could be helpful!

I spent wayyyyy too long compiling all this - but it's important, and I appreciate you asking!!

Accessibility is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I will say up front that I'm not sure universal (aka accessible to everyone) design is possible, because people's needs can vary even within the same subset of similar disabilities (such as limited vision or blindness). BUT that doesn't mean we don't try to design for and make our games available to as many people as possible. Mismatch by Kat Holmes is a great read on design for accessibility in general, as is Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez. You might also check out literally anything Alice Wong has ever done.

To start, I recommend this article on the Lenses of Accessibility.

(for reference, this article is about web/graphic design, so I'm going to try and distill the most salient points for game design)

We are going to primarily focus on a few of these lenses:

Color

Font

Images & Icons

Layout

Readability

Structure

Keyboard

More details under the cut.

Color

Why does color matter? Well, for starters, there's a lot of colorblind people out there. Contrast affects readability. Autistic people and people who suffer from occular migraines might be affected by particular vivid colors. There's lots of reasons to consider color and the work it is doing in your piece, but in general you can provide a black and white, high contrast version of your game to help users.

There are tools out there to figure out if your contrast meets certain readability standards, such as this one.

Font

Dyslexia and other visual processing issues can make font choice really important. Plus, some fonts really affect readability. Additionally, line height, justification, and size of text can affect readability.

Best practice would be to provide a plain-text version of your game (and beware of "dyslexia-friendly" fonts which may or may not actually help - sticking to a basic readability font like Arial, Tahoma, or Verdana, is safest). I like this style guide for reference.

Images & Icons

For visually-impaired people, it's important to use alt-text, descriptions, and/or captions to help screenreaders properly translate images. Tons and tons of details that could go into this, but there are better people than me to describe it.

Layout

We've talked about this a bit, but there's tons of resources for this. There was recently a great writeup about Yazeba's Bed and Breakfast in terms of layout that I highly recommend.

Readability

More of the thing we've already talked about - it really is a combination of all the other lenses that comes down to readability. Audio versions of your game are always a good way to avoid the restrictions of screen readers, but can be expensive to produce.

Structure

This is tables. Tables are a nightmare for screenreaders, but including them as images can also be a problem. The short solution is "don't use tables" but that's not necessarily great for seeing people. The section in this blog is really great when talking about options for structure.

Keyboard

Debated on whether to include this, but given how many games are being read as purely digital files, I think it's important to have workable interactive elements that can be navigated through without a mouse. Some of that is going to come down to the programs being used to open your files. But if there are things you can do on your end (such as labeling form fillable fields on an interactive character sheet), they're worth doing!

Please understand that this isn't an exhaustive list. There's tons of resources out there and technology and standards are constantly changing.

It's also is important to note that even doing one of these things is helpful. You might look at this list and go "wow that's too hard" but I promise you, it's worth it. My games do not all have accessible versions! That's something I'm trying to rectify. The biggest part of that for me is thinking about accessibility from the start instead of at the end! But we can start today, and that's better than not starting.

The most important thing to remember are that disabled people are NOT a monolith - needs will differ from person to person. Accessible design makes gaming better for everyone!

Final Resources:

Accessibility in InDesign

Accessible-RPG

A11Y

Accessible Design for Teams

[planetary-gus]

Some downsides to the demigods powers/just being a demigod in general

Quick TW, I advise you tread with caution because some of these can be darker than the rest

1. When Will heals he's literally putting a piece of his own health into someone's body, so if he goes too far he'll end up killing himself

2. All the Apollo kids have very very sensitive ears, which contributes to sensory issues, getting overwhelmed, and meltdowns

3. Hazel/the Hecate kids struggle separating reality from illusion sometimes and can be prone to psychosis and hallucinations

4. Hypnos kids very ironically have insomnia

5. Similarly, Poseidon kids are prone to dehydration

6. Zeus kids are obviously asthmatic

7. The Hades kids have hypermobility issues/hEDS

8. Any chthonic demigods also struggle with fainting disorders

9. Some Hermes kids have ironic navigation issues, and can never remember any directions they're given

10. Apollo kids can't lie even if their life is directly on the line

11. Aphrodite kids are prone to NPD and struggle to form relationships

12. Ares kids are just as prone to BPD or bipolar and struggle with vulnerability and letting people in

13. Rachel commonly dissociates and sometimes feels like her body isn't actually hers

14. Hazel has problems with stiff muscles and her body feeling like a rock itself

15. Frank sometimes forgets he's actually a person

16. Athena kids are prone to anxiety and panic disorders, paranoia, and agoraphobia

17. Reyna forgets she has an actual body of her own

18. Demigods in general are prone to POTS or autoimmune disorders

19. Leo is sensitive to any other kind of burn except fire (steamburns/carpetburn/sunburn/etc)

20. Nico is prone to hypothermia if he overuses his powers

21. Leo and Will are both prone to overheating from their powers

22. Iris kids are ironically either colorblind, or have the color perception a shrimp. There is no in between.

23. Dionysus kids often have ABS (Auto-Brewery Syndrome)

24. Hephaestus kids are prone to heat stroke/fevers

25. As well as issues with weakness and fragile bones/joints in their legs

26. Some Apollo kids can scream so loud they can burst eardrums or even stun those close enough, although this usually leaves them with raw, bleeding throats

27. Demeter kids are prone to scoliosis due to how frequently they need to bend down to garden

28. Hermes kids usually mask their real personalities with a "chaotic mask" so they usually forget what they're really like

29. Iris kids are very sensitive to light and often need to wear sunglasses just to be able to walk around because of retina sensitivity

30. Occasionally, Athena kids can experience degeneration in their optic nerves that can cause blindness and eventually spread to other areas of the body (bilateral optic neuropathy is what I believe it's called but feel free to correct me on that)

Add to this list as you please, and this was all just some silly things me an my gf thought of, I apologize if we upset anyone

[lookingformoondrop]

FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WRITES FOR THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY!!!!! THANK YOU <33333

Gonna ask some relationship hc w leyley!! It could be yandere if you like (I mean she is one already but-yk)

Ashley Graves X gn!reader - Relationship Headcannons

TW: Ashley is manipulative, she's a red flag but I'm colorblind, everyone has a foul mouth, mentions of cheating and kissing, Ashley is very emotionally dependent.

♥︎ Notes: I thought about making Ashley a yandere, but then I reflected on what Anon said and thought... they're right, LOL. I'm always happy to supply content for TCOAAL, and I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to request! I hope these meet your expectations. <3♥︎

Ashley Graves is impulsive, stubborn, cleverly stupid, and a pain in the ass.

If I had to describe dating Ashley I'd say it's like riding a roller coaster but never knowing when it'll drop.

When you first met her, you were blinded by her beauty (her tits) and decided to walk up to her for a number.

She was flustered that someone was interested in her, sure she's had people walk up to her before, but it was because they were always more interested in her brother than her.

But once she realized you were in it for her, she never let you go again.

It started with frequent house visits. She'd sleep over without asking, and just like a stray-cat that cuddles up to you, you couldn't say no.

She'd try to cook you for you! Every morning where she aserted herself into your day, you'd wake up to the wonderful smell of burning shit. When you went to your kitchen with a loving fire extinguisher in your hands, you'd see she was cooking eggs and some unidentified meat.

You'd walk up behind her and kiss the nape of her neck, never telling her you're only doing this because her hair smells like cherries and if you don't you're pretty sure you'll pass out from the smoke.

"Y/N, why is there a fire extinguisher in your hands?"

"Early Christmas."

"Liar."

Dates were fun, too! Even though you'd organize the actual dates like eating out, going to amusement parsl, carnivals, and the like, her dates would be along the lines of staying at home and cuddling. You might call it boring, but to Ashley, a perfect date would be where you're both left alone with only eachother to give company.

No one, and I mean NO ONE, would be able to see her precious Y/N except her.

And not that you minded anyways, you enjoyed spending time with Ashley, even if half that time was her being exhausting.

Speaking of which, exhausting, you ask? How is little ol' Ashley exhausting?

Be it a nice co-worker, a pleasant stranger, a funny waiter, or even that woman who works at the deli that gives you that cheap vegan processed ham with bacon bits, Ashley hated the fact you even acknowledged them.

It often became her favorite topic to annoy you with.

While cuddling on the couch (iykyk), Ashley began to look at you with intense eyes. You knew what these eyes meant. It was a warning sign that she was about to ask you something that could potentially piss you off. Of course, she didn't care about that part, all you needed to know was she was going to ask and you'd better be honest.

"N/M, do you love me?"

"Sure I do, you're my girlfriend after all."

Ashley wrapped her arms around your neck a little tighter, "So then," her face darkened, "would you ever cheat on me?"

You sighed, this line of questioning was becoming less and less of the 'would you love me if I was a worm' deal and more of the 'whose that bitch you were talking to' deal.

"No, Ashley, I wouldn't. Why would you feel the need to ask me that?"

Ashley raised her head from your chest and opened her mouth, her final statement ready to fire,

"So then why do you still look at other people if you would never cheat?" Her eyes narrowed on you.

You groaned and rubbed your temples, "Jesus Ashley, now I can't even have simple eye contact with people?"

She blew a breath of annoyance, "why would you even make eye contact?! I'm the only one you should be looking at, N/M!"

You went to push Ashley off of you, already sick of her shit.

"No! Do you even still love me?! All you do is go to work, go to school, hang out with your stupid friends, and ignore me!"

"I'm not doing this with you AGAIN, Ashley! Just because I know or talk to other people does not mean I'm screwing them! Jesus Ashley, you would think we'd be over this by now..."

Ashley pouted and blinked the tears in her eyes away, "...fine. leave me then, see if I care."

She sits up and goes to the opposite end of the couch.

"You're sitting on my feet, Ashley."

Ashley turned her head away and ignored you.

You hated it when she got her way, but you also couldn't stand to see her so upset. After all, she was only upset because she missed you.

Sighing with defeat you said softly, "I'm sorry I don't pay enough attention to you, Leyley. Life distracts me sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't still love you. This weekend I'll cancel with my friends and we can go on a date. "

She hummed, "id rather we stay in and watch a movie."

"Which movie?" You coax your girlfriend for a smile,

"...Hypergore Splatterbrains 4," She looked at you and grinned.

"There's my pretty girl," you wrapped an arm around her waist, "alright, you happy now? Will you stop bitching about people in my life who I will NEVER cheat on you with?"

She brought a finger to her bottom lip, "Nah, maybe a kiss will convince me?"

She looked at you with a devious smirk, you sighed. "Cmere you," Ashley giggled and jumped on top of you, sharing a loving kiss.

Yeah, Ashley is exhausting.

But in a way, you're happy she's yours. You couldn't be happier, even if her cooking skills are shit, she's a tad bit possessive, and she leaves passive aggressive notes in your lunchbox when you go to work.

You love her either way.

"Hey N/M?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

You sighed with content and wrapped your arms around her waist, "Yes Leyley, I love you. Do you love me?"

Ashley laid her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat,

"I love you, N/M~"

Thank you for the ask!<3