swift decisions

“You’re going to have thousands of decisions to make that will shape the public’s perception of you. Let those decisions be your decisions. Don’t let them be some man in a suit’s decisions, or some A&R guy with a beanie’s decisions.” —Taylor Swift

it’s been hours and this music video is honestly occupying my every waking thought, it’s full of sentimental easters eggs and has brought up so many memories. i love how a video like this brings to the forefront the mutual adoration and trust we have with taylor. we understand her, and she understands us. this is truly going to be a monumental era.


        This is falling in love in the cruelest way,
                                               This is falling for you and you are worlds away.

anonymous asked:

Danti #3? (platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer)

((This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated lmao))

As soon as it happened Anti regretted it. Dark had been speaking to him, and there are been a snarky insult or two in what he had been saying, and Anti had snapped. He was fresh off the energy from once again sending fear and shockwaves through Jack’s community, and though Dark had complimented his approach, there was always a sharper edge to his words. The glitching had been more to threaten Dark than anything else, make the grey-skinned man think that Anti could just appear anywhere and hurt him, but Anti had accidently taken it too far. Dark’s prized piano was sitting in the corner of the room, and Anti had made a beeline for it. He had just wanted to scare Dark, but the glitching had gotten out of control, and the piano had paid the price for Anti smashing into.

Everything in the room seemed to stop, and Dark stood staring at the mess that had once been his instrument. The silence was deafening and Anti’s heart was beating in his throat. He didn’t need Dark to tell him how much that piano had meant to him. It was a Steinway Model O, something Dark had mentioned quite a lot of times whenever he had played it for Anti, and Dark himself had rebuilt it when he had acquired it since it had been in a bad state of disrepair.

Anti approached him slowly, hyper aware of how still Dark was. Even his aura wasn’t ringing anymore, and the man seemed to be in complete shock over what had happened, his eyes fixed on what had once been his piano. When he sensed Anti getting closer his eyes slid over to him, and Anti was shocked to see a sheen of tears in their depth.

Without a word, Dark turned and left the room, abandoning Anti with the remains of the piano. Anti knew better than to follow him, and turned to look at the mess before him. He had fucked up this time. He had never seen Dark in such a state of shock before, with his aura completely gone despite the anger that must have been swirling inside him. Glancing at the pieces of the piano, Anti pulled out his phone and made a swift decision to try and set this right.

When he saw Dark next, it was on the roof of the building the Egos lived in. Dark was sitting on the edge, legs dangling over, suit jacket and tie lying next to him and sleeves rolled up against the heat of the setting sun. On his lap was a pile of sheet music, songs that Dark loved to perform, that he had written himself, and that he had been in the process of composing. The topmost song was one Anti hadn’t seen before, but in Dark’s beautiful script a name had been scrawled at the top – Circles.

“What are you doing?” Anti asked softly, sitting down next to Dark on the roof but keeping a short distance between them.

“Contemplating whether to throw my music over the side.” Dark replied, refusing to look at Anti.

“I’m sure you can get another piano!” Anti said, “It’s not the end of the world Dark, you don’t have to be so melodramatic.”

Dark side-eyed him, a glare that could have cut Anti to the bone if he wasn’t so used to them. “It’s not just about getting a new piano Anti. You’re not musical, you don’t understand. When you find the right instrument…you have a connection with it, something deeper than just a material object. I spent years looking for the right piano, playing and testing countless ones to see if it would fit me and then I found that one and it was perfect. It was one of the most important things in the world to me and you ruined it. Just because I insulted you, which I’ve done countless times before.”

“I’m sorry!” Anti exclaimed, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That isn’t the point!” Dark shouted, and the volume of his voice gave Anti pause. It was rare for Dark to shout and for his shell to stay intact, and Anti wasn’t entirely sure what it meant that that was precisely what had happened. Had he really shocked Dark so much that his aura had receded, leaving only the man behind?
“The songs I wrote on that piano won’t sound the same on any other instrument. And this one,” Dark gestured down the top-most song, Circles, “I was writing this one about you. You can’t just…finish a song on a different instrument.”

Anti didn’t speak, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, but he had to admit the sounds Dark produced when he had played that piano had been beautiful. And Dark clearly understood more about instruments than Anti did, which was fine. It was understandable for him to focus on anything but his anger at the broken instrument as well, because Anti knew Dark hated it when his shell completely broke.

Standing up, he left the room. He couldn’t be with Dark right now, wouldn’t have been able to say the right thing or offer him any comfort of any kind. Right now, there was only one thing he could do.


Their relationship wasn’t the same after the breaking of the piano. Dark was still in shock for a while, although Anti knew he hadn’t thrown away his music. They didn’t spend half as much time together, but that suited them both since they had their own side projects to deal with.

When Anti showed up at Dark’s office requesting him to play the unfinished song Circles, he half-expected Dark to slam the door in his face. Instead, Dark raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.

“I don’t have anything to play it on.” He muttered.

“You don’t, but I do.” Anti replied, pulling one of Dark’s arms free and dragging him from the room. He pulled him continuously through to Dark’s office, where everything was shrouded in shadows except for a grand piano sitting in the centre.

The Steinway showed signs of where Anti had broken it, but also signs that it had been put back together with the utmost care and attention. Polished to a perfect shine, the keys and strings replaced and Dark was stuck in the doorway looking at the piano that only a few weeks ago had been a jumbled mess on the floor.

“You fixed it?” He whispered.

“I didn’t do it myself,” Anti replied, “But I arranged for it to be done. I’m really sorry I broke it, Dark.”

Dark looped an arm around Anti’s waist and pulled him close, kissing him suddenly enough to make the glitch squeak quietly in surprise. “Thank you.” He murmured, resting his forehead against Anti’s and offering him a genuine smile.

Anti grinned, “So will you play Circles for me now?”

“It isn’t finished.” Dark protested weakly as Anti led him to the piano and trailed his hand along it, their fingers entwined as they did.

“I want to hear it anyway.” Anti pushed, “Please.”

Nodding, Dark took a seat the piano and gently ran his fingers across the keys. They were the same as the ones from the old piano, slightly smoothed where his fingers would hit them during playing, and Dark had to take a moment to stop himself from breaking down. Anti pulled up a chair next to the piano and lounged next to him, waiting patiently.

Dark glanced at him. The song he had written didn’t do Anti justice, not at all. So, with the glitch sitting next to him, Dark began to play, a completely new song that came to him almost instaneously. Anti was silent throughout the entire thing, captivated by Dark playing and it was in that instant that Dark knew exactly why Anti had repaired the piano for him. This was one of the most important things to Anti as well, getting to listen to Dark pour his all into piano pieces, songs that spoke of the entire world they struggled again, and all the love they had for each other. Circles was always going to be incomplete, because to Dark, Anti was too precious to name, and no matter what song he played for him, it would always be different, because nothing could ever pin Anti down.

When the song was over, Dark leaned over and kissed Anti again.

“Thank you.” He whispered against his lips.

Anti kissed him again in response.

Prompt Me?

Like This

Short one based on the song ‘Like This’. 

“Honestly, don’t waste your time,” she snaps finally, ending the argument with a swift, decisive wave of her hand. She turns on the spot, picking her coat and bag up from the chair beside her and striding from the kitchen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he calls, rushing to get ahead of her and block her path to the front door. His large figure works as an effective barrier and she stops short, her lips pulled into an irritated frown.

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a/n: Well… I guess this is becoming a thing now? This spawned from @kacchanswife and I’s need for “you shouldn’t be worried about me” trope. Started off small too, and well… yeah, shit happened. I apologize for my terrible writing.  

Fandom: Boku No Hero Acadamia

Pairing: Kacchako

Word Count: 1588

The stories about this fucker were unfortunately true.

An unnamed hero killer, much like Stain, but without an assumed code of honor; he killed for the damn sport of it, wearing the blood of his victims on his obsidian cloak for all to see. Swift, decisive, cunning, and deadly accurate.

He was a villain to be feared.

Bakugo would have been damn well impressed too, had the asshole not decided to use those traits against him; he was littered in bruises, cuts and scrapes. He took to breathing through his mouth, his nostrils filled to the brim with blood, the red liquid leaking slowly from within. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be walking away from this fight with anything less than two broken ribs, and that was if he was lucky. His eyes flickered to his right, taking in his partners ragged appearance and clenched his fist in anger.

Oh, that fucker was dead. 

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anonymous asked:

Hello! I think I accidentally sent this incomplete ask before lol. I read an article about a guest star in Supernatural (can't remember her name), apparently she's been a big fan since the beginning. What worried me was that she said, "I think Sam and Dean will go out in a blaze of glory because that's what the actors want". I would love a happy ending tbh but I know what J2 want and I know that even though they're professionals, they still have a lot of say about what happens. Thoughts?


J2 don’t have a say in the overall story, they can change words here and there IF they’re allowed to (I still keep remembering Taylor Swift) so a huge decision like this ? No way .

The whole 12x22 grenade launcher being finally used to break down the walls, a metaphor for Dean’s happy ending, letting himself be happy and free and meaning they escape their death and win, happy and free, right AFTER talking about going down in a blaze of glory? Dean literally says hey no way I’m living through this.

For me that was all about saying a big F - U to the blaze of glory ending. On top of all the rest of the stuff about all of TFW growing, becoming happier, complete, sorting out their issues from the past… getting their happy endgame.

I mean MAYBE they would do some kind of resolution and happy ending where they die and all go to heaven together MAYBE but imo it doesn’t really fit with all this and the way Dabb is taking the show now with hunters/mol community set up, parenting, love, relationships etc and it has been tentatively heading since…. season 8ish?

It’s also just not… a nice ending. For so many people who talk at cons and in general people who watch the show and say they’ve had issues with self worth, depression etc. To show these guys go through all those things themselves and come out the other side, accept themselves, conquer the depression, have a happy ending and move forwards with their lives, is such a more powerful message than a blaze of glory and imo is much more of a powerful positive social and political statement given many of these themes which all centre around their emotional story arcs, as the whole show does.

People having emotional and mental issues, growing, learning, going through trials and tribulations, eventually getting out the other side and living a better, happier life thanks to their growth and the story we have followed for over a decade - now THAT’S a story worth remembering.

Okay, y'all say it with me now.

“Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston are two consenting adults. They are real people, not a TV show. It does not matter if you like them together, Tom Hiddleston does not belong to you. He is dating her, you know Tom - he obviously sees something in her he really likes and vice versa. They are not fictional characters. You don’t get to pout because your ship didn’t happen. They’re human. You don’t know Tom. You don’t know Taylor. You don’t get an opinion on who they date. You don’t own Tom Hiddleston.”

Now, again. A little louder for the people in the back.

Bless you for providing me an opportunity to shoehorn the Wonder Woman movie into a Ladynoir fic.

(find the prompt list here)

“Well, that went way better than expected. I can’t believe you pulled off that trick.”

Chat looked away from the flashing wall of cameras and crinkled his eyes at Ladybug. “You’re surprised? Wow. You injure me with your lack of faith. I told you I had it in the bag, Bug.”

Marinette’s attention was divided evenly between the wall of cheering fans and journalists, and her partner. It was as she was signing a bicep that had been thrust in her direction that she hit Chat with disarming smile. “And you were right, of course,” she laughed.

“I thought we’d be out for hours, when I saw her wrecking the radio tower on the news,” Chat said once they had banished themselves to the rooftops. “I can’t believe it only took twenty minutes and we didn’t even need the charm or the ‘clysm. I wasted one of my good alibis on getting out of the house! I’d been saving that one, too.”

The agonized look on his face made a giggle bubble up in Marinette’s throat, and she couldn’t contain it. She was feeling too good. That battle had been swift and exhilerating and decisive, and she felt powerful, and more than anything else, she felt connected to her partner. They’d been paired up against the world together for about five months now, but tonight something had shifted. They’d moved less like a team and more like one. He’d responded to her whims as if they’d been choreographed a thousand years ago and he’d spent his life studying in preparation just to meet her. And Marinette, god help her, had loved every second of it.

Keep reading

iv-a. i knew i loved you then

but you’d never know
ft. akashi seijuurou

Characters are adults here, think late twenties. I also think this is longer than the other stories in Cantabile, because *inspiration*!

Originally posted by butteryplanet

Maybe everything happened because of fate.

The recital hall is packed, and you’re not exaggerating when you say it literally looks like a sea of people. The traffic was hectic, which lead to your almost late arrival. You regret not being able to meet your student to give her encouragement, but thankfully her mobile was reachable just a couple of minutes ago, so you were able to cheer her on through a simple phone call. 

You’re struggling to find an empty seat—the lights are dim, making it harder for you to look for one. Eventually you see one empty seat right beside the aisle, a man sitting on the seat next to it. You walk over in a slightly faster pace than you’re used to, not wanting the seat to be taken by someone else.

“Excuse me,” you say, grabbing his attention, “is this seat taken?”

Shocking scarlet eyes look back at you in mild surprise. He looks your age, somewhere between mid- and late-twenties, though his face might pass for early-twenties instead. He’s dressed formally, like most of the people attending the recital, including you. When he speaks, his tone is professional and dignified:

“No, please.”

You smile, relieved and thankful, as you shuffle into your seat, fixing your clothes as you’re seated. You murmur your gratitude, while he replies with a simple “you’re welcome”. Realizing that there’s still at least five more minutes until the show starts, you glance at him, pondering if you should make small talk.

Before you can decide, he beats you to it.

“What brings you here today?”

“Oh,” you blink, surprised at the initiative, “it’s my student, actually. She’s performing.”

His eyes shines with interest, that much is plain to see. A small smile graces his lips.

“Really. Instrument?”

“Piano. She’s playing Schumann today.”

He hums and nods, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“And what about you?” You ask.

“My friend’s daughter is playing,” he replies, “though I came here rather late, and I couldn’t seem to find him.”

“Wow, that’s unfortunate,” you say sympathetically, “did you get caught in the traffic or something?”

“Yes,” the redhead answers, shaking his head slightly at the memory of the traffic jam he experienced earlier. Owning a luxury sedan doesn’t make life easier in Tokyo. “I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”

“Same,” you sigh, “but at least we’re here now.”

The lights are dimmed down, and the two of you gather that the recital is about to start. Amongst the minimally lit room, however, you can see that the man has extended a hand.

“Akashi,” he says, “Akashi Seijuurou.”

It takes you two seconds into the handshake to offer you your own full name upon realizing that the person next to you is the CEO to an extremely successful company.

“How did you enjoy the performance?” Akashi asks you in the middle of the applause at the closing performance. You need to lean in a little bit to hear him, and your shoulder unintentionally touches his. He doesn’t seem to notice—if he does, he doesn’t look like he minds. You, on the other hand, have to mutter a simple apology, moving away before answering his question.

“It was intriguing,” you reply, slowly stopping your own applause, “some of the pieces were interpreted differently by their respective performers. I feel refreshed.” You smile, standing up the same time as he does. It seems like Akashi is going to at least walk out of the hall with you before parting ways, and with that in mind, you tread up the stairs with him by your side, exchanging banter mostly about the recital that just ended.

The light outside is almost blinding, since it is only 4 p.m. and the sun is still shining in the desaturated blue of the winter sky. You have to squint slightly a few moments upon exiting the dim hall to adjust your eyes. Akashi, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too bothered, and you notice just how he looks three times more captivating under the late afternoon sunlight.

“Your student performed brilliantly,” he compliments, “her teacher must be excellent, as well.” When he says that, he looks at you with mirth in his eyes. Is he teasing you? You can only chuckle and bashfully look down to the ground.

“Ah, speaking of which, I need to congratulate her,” you say, looking around outside the auditorium entrance to spot your student. She must be with her parents here somewhere.

“I suppose I should also say hello to my friend,” he replies. “But before you go, ___________-san…”

You turn to look at him writing something on what looks like a business card, before he hands it to you.

“I hope you don’t mind me giving you my personal number,” Akashi says with a smile. It is somehow different compared to the other smiles he’s sent you during the short period of time you’ve got to know each other—ever enigmatic, but somehow this time it’s more… gallant

“I’d like to get to know you more, perhaps over coffee or lunch. Call me if you’re free,” he says, before spotting someone from afar—green hair and tall stature makes someone much easier to find in a crowd. 

“And that would be my friend. Until next time, ___________-san.”

You’re in a standstill, his card still in your hand as you watch him walk away to greet his friend. Until next time, huh… he’s that confident that you’re going to call him. 

You can’t say he’s wrong. 

‘Getting to know each other’ ends up happening over lunch dates instead—he picks you up at 12.30 sharp every time, drives you to a restaurant that he recommends, and you’d talk and eat for an hour. From the four lunch dates that he’s taken you to, you now know several things about him: that he knows how to play the violin, and his favorites are Bach and Brahms, and that he also knows how to play the piano (unsurprising, in your opinion). He used to play basketball in high school—you know the whole story—and you know of his family. You know that he likes tofu soup, and a bunch of other things that would take a whole day to describe.

When you see him through the window of the classroom you’re teaching in, you can’t be any more surprised. 

“Can you complete number 5 and 7, too? I will check your answers when you’re done with everything,” you tell your student, who replies with a simple “okay” before you walk to get the door, closing it once you’re out of the room. The look on Akashi’s face tells you that he’s entertained by your shocked expression.

“Akashi-san, what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” Akashi says, holding out a small, simple bouquet of red tulips. Knowing him, who likes things of extravagance and class, he probably doesn’t want you to look unprofessional in your work place. 

“I thought I could pay you a surprise visit,” he continues.

“Well, you succeeded on that,” you reply, holding the flowers in your hands, “and you shouldn’t have, really.”

“I wanted to,” he smiles. You have to hold in the urge to blush.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence sets in the two of you for a few seconds, and you certainly aren’t able to gauge the look on Akashi’s face while your eyes keep looking anywhere but him.

“I was wondering if you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?” Akashi asks, a casual hand in his pocket.

“Yes, I am,” you say, “are you picking me up?”

“Of course,” he replies smoothly as he flashes one of those dangerously charming smiles to you. You thought that seeing it more often for the past three weeks would make you somewhat immune to it, but his charm, if anything, gets even stronger. Or is it you who is getting weaker?  “Is seven alright?”

“Yes, that works just fine,” you say, smiling back at him. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, like he always does before and after a date with you—you told him you thought only people in the olden days did that, and he laughed. This time, however, you don’t comment. The pink on your cheeks tell him everything he needs to know.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You wave him goodbye as he walks away from the classroom towards the exit—the front desk must’ve told him you’re almost done with this class and let him in. You hope the other teachers weren’t around to see that… Opening the door to your classroom with the bouquet in your hands, you see your student still twirling the pencil in his hand, and when he looks up at you, he’s mildly surprised at the bunch of flowers you’ve got.

“How are we going along?”

“Sensei, was that your boyfriend?” The boy teases, grinning mischievously with curiosity in his eyes. You burst out laughing.

“He’s… someone I’ve known for a while. Now, if the question asks you to identify the tempo in Mälzel’s Metronome—”

The dinner was splendid, even Akashi has to admit at least that. He told you beforehand that the restaurant isn’t really one you can enter without complying to a certain dresscode, which took you by surprise, but he must say that you look gorgeous with that outfit on. He just has to examine you from head to toe another time, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat of his Aston Martin, looking out the night lights of the city. 

Akashi is never one to quickly jump into things that is uncertain. He does make swift decisions, but all of them are accurate, precise, calculated, and always right. 

So when he thinks meeting you is love in first sight, that might as well be the truth.

It wasn’t all flowers and pink auras in your first meeting, that’s for sure, but he remembers exactly how it felt when his eyes met yours. There’s something different, and a voice inside him (his conscience, or his demons?) telling him that you’re different. Of course he included the possibility of being physically attracted to you, which is a very natural thing considering how appealing you are, but he’s never one to be simply allured by looks.

After various processes in his mind, he concluded that the butterflies in his stomach can only be the product of the so-called love at first sight. 

“Akashi-san, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask, a small smile on your face. Trying to guess where he’s taking you makes it all the more exhilarating—you haven’t felt this way in a very long while.

“My home,” he answers, and before you can retaliate or question him, or think of other more suggestive possibilities, he continues. 

“I want to show you something.”

When he brings back a violin case to the living room where you’re sat, you gasp. He can only smile back, taking extreme delight in your shock.

He’s going to play for you.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard someone play the violin. You’ve been to many violin performances, the recital where the two of you met counts as one, but to have someone that is a romantic interest to perform in front of you, just the two of you

It has to be a serenade.

He elegantly holds the instrument up, his fingers delicately hovering over the strings, and as his right hand starts to move the bow across the instrument, you find yourself surprised yet again.


“Love’s Dream”, so it is called, by Liszt. It is a classic piano piece, you’ve never heard it on the violin before, but the melody sounds so enchanting when Akashi plays it. The room is quiet, and the sound of the instrument resonates so beautifully in the midst of the silence, letting you hear each and every note clearly. 

It’s his confession of love.

Akashi is deep in concentration as he plays, so when his scarlet eyes look up at you from the violin, you can’t find it in you to look away. He’ll only gaze at you for so long before returning back to playing, eyelids fluttering once in a while as his fingers dance to the theme of the song. He said that he hasn’t played for a while… did he practice for this? Visions of him playing the violin somewhere in his mansion, alone, spending an hour or two for this piece—it grips your heart so strongly.

When the main melody is repeated in a higher octave, you know that the song is about to end, but it sounds so sad and beautiful that it makes your eyes water, hand cupping your mouth to prevent whatever unelegant sound you’re about to make. The piece reaches a romantic conclusion, like the last word written in a book, or a couple exchanging sacred three words. 

Akashi exhales, puts down the instrument and looks to you to gauge reaction.

Instead of the applause he’s expecting, he sees you walking towards him and cupping his face with both hands before kissing him.

It’s something that he returns whole-heartedly, of course, for he’s sure his heart has never felt that close to bursting at the seams. The touch of your lips are initially soft and tender, but something in him decides to take more of you, and his hand moves to your waist to press you against his body. His mouth moves against yours in a passionate dance, encasing your bottom lip in his to suck on it, while he has a hand behind your head to pull you impossibly closer to him.

He wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the wetness he feels against your cheek.

“You’re crying,” Akashi says after slowly pulling away, his finger wiping away the tears, only to find more of them streaming down your cheeks. You sigh helplessly before resting your face against his chest, inadvertently inhaling his scent.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “that was just… beautiful, I don’t know what else I can say—”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, chuckling a little bit, and you can feel the vibrations deep in his chest. 

“I—did you—Akashi-san, how long—”   

“Please, call me Seijuurou,” he cuts you off, patting your head lovingly in attempts to calm you down. “I shall also call you  ___________, if you wish.”

“Seijuurou,” you begin again, and he prays to heavens that you don’t catch the way his heart beats like a hammer against his ribcage when he hears you say his name, “how long did you spend practicing for this?”

“That’s a secret I can’t tell,” Akashi answers, mischief apparent in his gaze. You pout, disappointed at the answer, but you lean up to kiss him again nonetheless, this time with your arms wrapped around his shoulder. Akashi’s lips curl into a subtle smirk against the kiss, and when your mouth opens slightly as a form of invitation, he wants nothing more than to accept.

When you part, your eyes are half-lidded, and Akashi can’t decide if it’s from lust or love before he concludes that it’s both.

“Aka—Seijuurou, are we…”

“A couple?” He finishes your sentence for you when he senses you trailing off, and then dips down to your jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Yes, we are. I’d like you to be mine.”

“Mmm,” you hum in both agreement and pleasure from his treatment, “I’d like that too.”

Scarlet eyes look deep into yours, and he sees love in them just like you see love in his—it’s just a matter of time until the two of you feel right to say it out loud. For now, his violin has initiated the conversation, and you’re speaking with your eyes, with how you admire his face and how he watches your lips move as you speak. For now, the two of you will just bask in romance’s dream.

A time will come in the future when he’ll say he fell in love with you first and you had no idea, but that’s for later, Akashi decides.    

OOC: Color theory and the diamond authority.

The Color Yellow

Yellow is the color of the mind and the intellect

The color yellow resonates with the left side of the brain that rules logic and reasoning. It helps stimulate learning and perception, giving way to new ideas. Yellow Diamonds court has created a digital revolution on homeworld. Lapis says herself that homeworld has changed so much “it’s so advanced”.

Yellow promotes swift, clear, decision making but this can lead to being highly impulsive. She poofs the Zircons without a second thought.

The color yellow can also make you agitated or anxious. Yellow seems constantly annoyed or on edge.

Though yellow promotes analysis it can also cause you to become judgemental of both yourself and others. She is extremely strict and everyone is held to the highest standards.

Yellow is a non emotional color, promoting logic above all else. It prefers not to get emotionally involved in anything. What’s the use of feeling, Blue?

Yellow is related to the ego, how we see ourselves and how others see us. This can lead directly to our own self worth. Peridot saw her as the perfect Diamond. Perfectly logical. Faultless.

Yellows tendency towards pure logic is shown in her first song “what’s the use of feeling, Blue?” as she tries to reason with Blue diamond to bring her out of mourning. She comes off as cold and uncaring. “Where’s their diamond when they need her, Blue? You’ve got to be a leader, Blue.” and she continues with undue enthusiasm “Wouldn’t you rather forget her? Won’t it be grand to get rid of it all?”. When this does nothing Yellow switches tactics, appealing to Blue Diamonds empathy “Yes, of course, we still love her and we’re always thinking of her. Don’t you know I miss her, too?” but even in this you can practically hear the eye roll and impatience in her singing.

Yellow can be deceitful and distant.  

Lemon yellow can specifically be very sensitive to criticisms This seems to be her main shade and she is certainly sensitive to criticism.

The Color Blue

The color blue is the color of trust and responsibility

This color is one of honesty, trust and loyalty. It is quiet and reserved and wants to avoid conflict at all costs. This reflects how little Blue Diamond shows herself off. She moves in secret with only her pearl for company. No security or sapphires. She prefers to grieve on her own and hates arguing with Yellow.

In the meaning of colors, blue relates to direct communication and smooth exchange of ideas. It’s idealistic and is often linked to spirituality. Blue also embodies devotion. This is reflected in what we’ve seen of Blue diamonds part of gem society, containing temples and places of relaxation and contemplation.

It is the color of trust and will take it deeply personally if betrayed. I think this is why she’s so desperate for the truth. She knows something is going on and even the other diamonds are not completely honest with her.

Change is difficult for blue. It is naturally analytical and will dwell on a new idea for a long time to try and fit it into its world view. Shes spent millennia trying to cope with losing Pink.

Blue is nostalgic. It lives in its memories and cannot move past what has already happened. It’s a devoted color and cannot be moved from its path. This says everything about Blue Diamond.

The Color White

White is purity, innocence, wholeness and completion

We know the least about White Diamond but I think that’s completely intentional.

In color psychology white is the color of new beginnings, of wiping the slate clean, so anything can be created in its place. The first Diamond? The mother of homeworld and the literal beginning of gem kind.

White is a perfect balance of all other colors, having both positive and negative aspects of each. It is the true neutral and is the perfect judge. Maybe there was a big reason she wasn’t at the trial.

It has the unique ability to amplify everything in front of it. It’s the key to the corruption bomb.

White doesn’t have many negative connotations in western culture other being cold and a little isolating, in other cultures the color white is linked with death and mourning.

Too much white can make you agitated as you worry about tainting or disrupting its clarity. Homeworld has changed but only within very strict parameters. The rules have been the same for eons.

The Color Pink

The meaning of the color pink is unconditional love and nurturing

We still haven’t seen Pink Diamond but we can assume and speculate.

Pink is representative of unconditional love, compassion and the giving and receiving of care.

Pink is intuitive and empathetic, promoting kindness and sensitivity.

This color can calm strong emotions like anger, hate or loneliness. It calms the nerves but in large amounts can cause physical weakness.  If we go with this then the other Diamonds needed Pink. She balanced them out.

Pink is linked to inexperience and naiveté. Too much pink can lead to immaturity and flightiness, acting silly and girlishly, abandoning responsibilities. Instead of colonising, she made a zoo. Not only that but the time she had on earth she only made two kindergartens and the most developed part of the earth plan is the galaxy warp.

Pink can bring a lack of independence and self worth, becoming overly emotional and cautious. This shows in all of the Pink court gems we’ve seen. Jasper and Amethyst especially have/had huge issues with self worth. And as we know a Diamonds court often reflects aspects of their Diamonds.