#i am enjoying the process and i think learning a decent amount from it though. i'm using different parts of my brain

[ichorblossoms]

this Thing is almost fucking done there's a chance i might actually have it done by sunday (internal deadline for this bc that marks two years of brainrot) i'm so fucking close. i am almost done

[superfallingstars]

Hello superfallingstars - from one marauders fan to another, care to answer these too? Some will be repeated, but I want to know what you think!

- Which marauder likes a big city, and who prefers the countryside or a small town?

- Who got the most free drinks or pub snacks from Rosmerta?

- Who handled their drink the best?

- Who couldn’t handle their drink?

- Who gave the best romantic advice?

- Who learned the patronus charm first?

- Who swears the most?

- I suppose this excludes James, but we can swap him for Lily: who enjoyed watching Quidditch matches the most?

- Who had the coolest childhood bedroom? (This is very subjective, I know)

- Who’s the most likely to be a good cook?

- Who’s good at fixing things?

- Who was always getting caught and who never got caught?

- Most likely to be a vegetarian

That’s what I got for today! I hope you all don’t think I am a creep. I just like to come up with questions that dig a bit more into the personalities of my favourite characters.

Hi I would love to answer these!

Which marauder likes a big city, and who prefers the countryside or a small town?

I think James and Sirius would both prefer the big city (so much mischief to get into!), Peter would prefer the country (is overwhelmed by the city), and Remus would be somewhere in the middle. Maybe Remus would find the city more enjoyable, but he would feel safer and more at ease in the country (for obvious reasons).

Who got the most free drinks or pub snacks from Rosmerta?

James. For all his faults (of which there were MANY), I think he was probably very charming…

Who handled their drink the best?

I think Sirius. I imagine James could also drink a decent amount, but he would get sillay with it, whereas Sirius would just seem slightly less coordinated. It’s because one of them is drinking for fun and the other one is drinking to cope. Who said that. Speaking of, I think Remus would also partake in some self-destructive substance abuse post-Lily and James death

Who couldn’t handle their drink?

Boring answer but Peter. I think he would be such a lightweight, to the point that everyone thought he was faking it and that he was just trying to seem cool by acting drunker than he actually was, and everyone found it really annoying. And then like an hour into the party he would just fall asleep in the corner (and James and Sirius would write/draw profane things on his face)

Who gave the best romantic advice?

Remus but only by process of elimination. His advice was still not very good.

Who learned the patronus charm first?

I have to go with James… ugh. I think he is such a complicated character (as you may be able to tell from the fact that I write an essay every time he comes up). I have a really hard time reconciling how spoiled and nasty and cruel he was with the near-reverence with which Sirius and Remus speak of him, not to mention the fact that Lily eventually deemed him worthy of marriage, or that he died fighting honorably for the Order... He's a mess of contradictions. But because of all that, I imagine him as someone who was almost delusionally optimistic, with relentless confidence in himself to achieve the impossible (though this confidence was also kind of a cope, since I think his bullying of Snape points to some deep-seated insecurities). It takes an impressive amount of nerve to try to become an animagus at age twelve, and it takes an even more impressive amount of resolve to actually achieve it… Like, James was the type of guy to make impossible promises and then somehow manage to pull them off (at least, until he wasn’t). And I think this inability to be deterred was kind of infectious – deep down, all of the Marauders wanted to believe in themselves as much as James believed in himself (and to be fair, as much as James believed in them!) – and it was this magnetic personality that made him a such a big influence on his friends’ lives, even after his death. All that to say: I think James would be able to pull off the Patronus charm first out of sheer willpower alone

Who swears the most?

Sirius or James, I could go either way here... Sirius being super reserved and barely cursing as a result of his posh upbringing, or Sirius having a huge pottymouth because he’s rebelling against his posh upbringing... I could also see James swearing a lot, because my best explanation for his contradictory combination of awful personality + great politics is that Euphemia and Fleamont were rich old money hippies with overly lax parenting skills, and they would probably let their dearest baby boy curse up a storm at home. But I think the real answer to this question is Snape.

I suppose this excludes James, but we can swap him for Lily: who enjoyed watching Quidditch matches the most?

I think Peter. Though he would also be the most scared during Quidditch matches. Like he would be shrieking and ducking and covering his eyes and Sirius and Remus would be like “dude what’s wrong” and he’d be like “I thought James was gonna fall off his broom!” D: But his joy at Gryffindor winning, his pride in his talented Seeker friend who he looks up to (and let’s be real, likes being associated with), and perhaps most importantly, the feeling that he belongs to something larger than himself, a group of winners – yeah, he'd be into that. (Sidenote, this is why I think Remus wouldn’t really give a shit about Quidditch; he is incapable of seeing himself as someone who “belongs” to a group any larger than his close circle of friends. Not that he would never have moments of House pride, but they would most likely be brief and fleeting.) I could maybe see Sirius being into Quidditch too, if only for the competitive aspect, but I think it’s also possible that he could be rather indifferent about the whole affair. Maybe Sirius enjoyed Quidditch the most only if Gryffindor was beating the pants off of Slytherin (can I say that phrase or is it too similar to, well, you know…?). And Lily was probably just a casual Quidditch enjoyer imo, though I'm sure she enjoyed having an excuse to stare at James for a few hours when Gryffindor was playing.

Who had the coolest childhood bedroom? (This is very subjective, I know)

Honestly I don't think this is subjective at all because it's gotta be James, EASILY. Mommy and Daddy will buy him anything he asks for and they live in a gorgeous old manor. His room would have posters of famous Quidditch players flying nimbly through blue skies, hung up over ornate crimson wallpaper… a plush red and gold carpet over dark, lustrous wood floors… a huge window stretching almost to the tall ceiling, opening up to a lush garden, that he could leap out of on his broom whenever he pleased… oh my god, imagine his bedframe is gold and the headboard is like the three Quidditch hoops?! Yeah it’s James for sure

Who’s the most likely to be a good cook?

Maybe Sirius? Only because he canonically makes breakfast for the kids on Christmas morning? Hey, maybe he was cheffing it up for the Potters as a way to thank them for taking him in, who knows. I also like the idea of Lily being good at baking and bringing homemade cookies back to Hogwarts after every winter break (and of course, bringing some to Snape nearly every day of winter break).

Who’s good at fixing things?

I’m gonna go with Sirius because he’s a motorcycle guy. Idk, I could see him as someone who likes tinkering with things.

Who was always getting caught and who never got caught?

I mean, James was notorious for being a troublemaker, so I think he must have gotten caught a fair amount of times… And I think I have to say that it was Peter who never got caught, if only because it’s rather poetic.

Most likely to be a vegetarian?

I like to imagine Remus as a vegetarian because of my headcanon that one time as a kid he escaped from whatever werewolf containment he was in (I have sooo much more to say about the logistics of Remus’s parents dealing with his lycanthropy but hoo boy that’s another post) and in his excitement unknowingly killed a rabbit, and then he came to in the middle of the woods with blood all over his face and the taste of raw meat in his mouth and now he’s disgusted by meat <3. Though idk if that headcanon actually works because it still has to be true that werewolves don’t kill animals (otherwise that defeats the whole point of becoming animagi!). Idk werewolf lore is kind of fucked anyway (why does lycanthropy make Remus weak and ill but Greyback seems to be doing just fine?), so maybe I can chalk it up to erratic behavior as a result of being cooped up unnaturally, or because he was a baby werewolf so he was maybe just killing stuff out of curiosity, or maybe I don't even need a reason… idk. If this sounds bad just pretend I said James for hippie reasons and he’s always really annoying and pretentious about it

And no omg I do not think you are a creep, in fact I was watching some of my moots get these asks and I was like… sigh… I wonder if someone will send some to me… so thank you lol. Perhaps unsurprisingly I enjoy talking about the Thing I Like, and I am always happy to do so!!! (Even though sometimes it takes me awhile to respond.) And these questions in particular were really fun!

Thank you for the ask!

[wherewilligofromhere]

hi! im mae!

well, my name is actually macey... but i like to go by mae online. i don't really care if you call me either. i thought id make a little intro post given i recently created this blog (it is actually a copy of an older one, but i wanted a fresh start).

my bio states most of it, i am 21 years old, i live in the united states, i identify as female, those are pretty much the basics. i consider myself a bit of a hobby collector and a gullible hyperfixater. some of my main hobbies include but are not necessarily limited to:

photography (i adore film, but due to no access to a darkroom anymore, i am primarily digital)

reading (mainly fiction, romance, fantasy, although i do enjoy an article concerning my special interests or mental health)

music (i play guitar, uke, and bass, as well as write my own music and lyrics, im a subpar vocalist though)

music listener (i am very passionate about the music i listen to, if it has resonating lyrics, i will listen to it, some of my favorite artists are mcr, coldplay, billie eilish (altho i think shes been a little iffy lately), eminem, $uicideboy$, brand new, and lana del rey)

crochet (mainly clothing, bags, and plushies)

doodling (i used to want to pursue art career wise, however was very burnt out and scarred by art teachers in high school and decided i couldn't use that for grades or income)

journaling (this is my most recent hobby picked up, however I've stuck with it decently strictly for over a month now and i am adoring it)

cd collecting (this is a passive hobby for me due to costs of CDs and a general life on spotify, however i do love collecting my favorite albums)

tarot and crystals (this is another passive hobby for me. i do not consistently practice tarot nor crystal meditation, however, if given the time and inspiration i will practice them. i wish i was more consistent, but i find these two to be moderately daunting)

I am currently pursuing an ASD diagnosis and am working with a clinic and insurance on finalizing testing, if anyone has gone through this process you know just how exhausting it is. I am diagnosed with ADHD. I believe these two things to be the driving forces in why i am the way i am and if not who i am. i strongly dislike statements such as "you are not your diagnosis" or "its just in your head." i am my diagnosis. it affects all aspects of my life. invalidating or denying that is invalidating me and ignoring a majority of my life and struggles. regardless, i may update here on how that whole process is going, tips i learn along the way, or further revelations that may occur during said process.

that being said i am a huge fidget toy enthusiast and am always looking for new fidget recommendations, i adore tangles, and these little edamame poppers, but id like to have more one-handed quiet fidgets.

some of my special interests are:

mental health and some disorders, i generally love learning how our brains work, both neurotypically and neuro-divergently

currently journaling its my main special interest and i adore looking for new spreads (ik a hobby sh)

crocheting (ik another hobby)

whales and whale sharks!!

collecting things, such as yarn, books, stickers, games, candles, skincare, and makeup (ngl most of it is purely collection)

japanese culture and foooooood

the northern lights

lake superior (i have always loved her and spent a year living a 15min walk from her)

i am a university student as well as working part-time, so the amount of activity on this page may not be consistent, as i already have an ever-changing life with variability in intensity from week to week.

i finally think that is all. if any of this resonates with you, maybe consider following! id love to have you as a mutual if we are alike, and i definitely do not consider myself someone to have many friends, i certainly do not have a best friend, so i am always open to chatting with new people :)

-mae

[kitalphahart]

I'm 30 now

idk how to do a readmore so suffer with a long post

Wild. So, I'm a homeowner, have been for bit over a year. Became one through circumstances most would never get. Managing all the bills. Somehow. Two cats. Dad is surprised at the amount of stuff I have that was basically all crammed into one small room (all the rooms are about 12x12, renovated schoolhouse, so the measurements aren't exact) that's still in the process of being put up around the house. Which still has a ton of mom's books and yarn. That stuff has been consolidating into one room, piece by piece, but that's getting full now. People think I'm 16, unless I'm at work. Then it's 20-22, depending on if they realize I've been here nearly 4 years. Will hit four years in a week. Cancer free 11 years. Haircut about eight years overdue. People think I'm a boy/man on occasion, which is absolutely hilarious and I'm okay with it. Online I apparently give off confusing vibes for gender, cuz I've seen the common ones used for me. Though I really don't care which one is used. I live in a red area of a blue state that's happy about the state of things. If only it meant that my mortgage would go down. Or my paycheck up. Or both. But I'm aroace, sooooooooooo...

I am an adult. I have no idea what I am doing. I make shitty comics and post them on Tapas so they're organized and I don't have to spend money on my own site. I technically have eight people following the main one, but I know there's more who follow but aren't members, despite one of the goals for the comic (site-provided) is 25 subscribers. I might have that but alas the lack of non-guest readers makes that hard to tell. My other comic has been on hiatus for a while, I might bring it back with 1.6 being out. It's early enough that the green rain, new comments, etc haven't shown up yet. The comic is still early spring though, the parsnips are still growing. I'm ignoring heart requirements for heart events in the comic

I have three (half) siblings. One hasn't spoken to me or our dad in 6+ years and has a story that has his entire family blocking him and me off. She got married and we found out via a phone call with dad's mother, who was shocked to hear that neither of us got invited. I saw her after learning but before she got married. Should've said something about hoping she enjoyed her wedding without her own father and sister but didn't think of it. Oh well. Dad and I have a guess as to why but if she really got that mad over her kid getting a five foot plushie then that's her loss. He loved it

My other sister doesn't talk to me, doesn't ask about me, and I block her online. Barring facebook, where I haven't posted in years anyway, but I've at least got her unfollowed. After I bear cancer she got weirdly insistent that I be an adult and stand up for myself and get a job and a car and all that. I still don't get why. She got mad when I did stand up for myself...against her. She went whining to dad (her stepdad) and he pointed out that I did as she wanted, so she shouldn't be mad. She can either have me as an obedient child or a grown adult with my own life that doesn't bend to her will. She decided that cutting me out was better. I'm good with that. Her kids are growing up in bubblewrap and her oldest is grafted to his iPad. He still lost it at an airport, only to get it replaced about two weeks later. And she wonders why her family never has money, despite constant begging and both her and her husband having decent paying jobs. She spends faster than she has money. She spends money she doesn't have. She spends money she expects to get from events that never occur and then panics when they don't happen. She demanded that I buy her a Nintendo Switch. In front of our parents. I told her no. Games on occasion, or recommendations, sure, but she can get the console herself. I don't think she ever did. I had a summer job and that's it at the time

My brother is dealing with divorce. They never were married. Not long enough for common law, never referred to each other as husband and wife, and the state doesn't accept such marriages as legal anyway. But he's going through a divorce with a woman who wants their daughters to herself and is trying to wear him down into submission. He's finally standing up to her instead. Court is just seeing that she's unstable and what little time she does have with them is gonna shrink. He's the custodial parent. The oldest is skeptical of her mother and has been calling out the bullshit. She also is in therapy cuz she has to parent her sisters while with her mother and the shift between being parentified and being a kid keeps throwing her out of whack. The middle has been bought out with the (cheap, used, no numbers) phone and kitten. Youngest idk, she's shy, and I don't hear much from or about her. I'm guessing somewhere in the middle

Anyway, back to Stardew Valley

[earthnashes]

I got very longwinded so I put the rest under the Read More. But TL;DR of this post:

-Once my current queue is done, I will be taking an indefinite hiatus from accepting commissions. There will be exceptions in the form of sporadic specials and Patreon-exclusive slot openings.

-There will be a “final hurrah” special I will very likely hold for maybe a month before that hiatus comes into play. Will be the final time I will accept commissions before hiatus.

-Hiatus will be spent focused on personal projects, overall art improvement, and content creation. I miss making headcanons as often as I did, man. ;w;

-Hiatus will, at most, last for the rest of 2023. More likely, though, it’ll last for a few months, but regular commissions will return with certainty uwu

So ye! :)

But if you want the long version...

This week is Deload week for training before my PR tests, which means I am taking a recovery period from weightlifting before I go back to hit them goal numbers hard as I can. And with it comes a coincidental introspective on my career as a freelance artist so far.

When May rolls around, it’d be 4 years since I quit my day job and took on commissions as my official primary means of income, and making my art my near entire source of income. I’ve definitely taken commissions long before that, but it was very much both amateur and part-time for the most part with my focus being elsewhere: either on school, or a job.

4 years of being able to independently live on my own thanks to the support I receive from everyone is more than I can ask for. But it is also a decent amount of time to be drawing for others!

Lemme counter that though by saying I’m not actually sad or upset about it or like. Need any sort of condolences or anything of that sort. Quite the contrary; I love doing commissions! Money is a factor in it, yeah, I’d be a fucking liar if it wasn’t; I have to eat and pay those pesky bills to make art. But a large part of why I love commissions is because I very much enjoy drawing for people. To me, being given a commission is being given the permission and trust to handle a small fragment of the person with care. I’m given a glimpse into who the person is, what they like, what stories they have to tell. So I try to give them my best foot forward and produce a piece they’ll enjoy. I personally find the entire process of creating for others very sweet and fun and it makes me happy that I’m allowed the honor of drawing for someone. :)

But through a lot of trial and error I’ve also come to remember how much I enjoy drawing for myself too, and how much I miss it. I don’t really draw for myself much anymore. I don’t really have the time to, mainly, but that’s largely my own doing. Past rookie stumbles biting me in the ass, living and learning. ;w; But I’m only bringing it up now because I am finally getting fucking close to finishing the queue I have, and with it comes the decision of taking an indefinite hiatus away from taking commissions.

The hiatus will at minimum be a couple of months, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to take it for the rest of the year. Got a lot of plannin’ to do if I intend on taking it that long! One such thing is doing a “last hurrah” special. The commissions will have to be simple and small so I don’t like, destroy myself in the process, but the idea is to take as many simplistic commissions as I can before I go into hiatus. It’ll be the official final time I’ll accept orders on mass before it’ll become very sporadic at best, at least until I bring the hiatus to an end.

Another is finally making an official store front for merch. Already have ideas of what I’d offer; most of them will be small and relatively cheap, and others would be like P2U designs and refs you could use for OCs ;w;

Lastly is more time spent on energy toward my Patreon and streaming; more early access, more character requests, more comics, so on and so forth. uwu

---

But ye! In closing, I’m just lettin’ my brain do the big think and I wanted to let ya’ll know the basic going’s on. As such, as you can imagine I will likely not be terribly active with art posting for the next few weeks ;w; I’ll still be around if you have questions and what not, but ye! Sorry for talking you ear off, and if you made it this far, you should treat yourself no cap. Thank you so much everyone, I’ll talk to ya soon! owo

[alucardownsmyass]

Hey beautiful! Got some headcanons on Alucard with an extremely shopaholic lover? I am a serious serial shopper and can't save money even if it meant saving my life LOL! Could be him and her just  spending time at the mall together 🏩🛍👠👜👗🥿

aaaa! i can very much relate to this one! 😩 i love fashion and currently am in the process of restarting my entire wardrobe! fr dm me if you see this and i'd love to show you all the shit i have in my wishlist cart! 🤣 it's ridiculous!

i'll add some interactions with some of the other characters as a bonus!

♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎  ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎ ♡︎ ♥︎

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ: ꜱʜᴏᴘᴀʜᴏʟɪᴄ 💌

⠀ ⠀

you had a really bad habit of being unable to save your money for long periods of time. as soon as you saw something you liked online, you were just as quick to insert the address of hellsing manor, add your credit/debit information, click 'pay now', and that was that! sure, you got a more than decent amount of income from working with the organization, but you know what they always say: "just because you have the money to spend, doesn't mean you have to."

⠀ ⠀

and integra definitely agreed with that statement.

⠀ ⠀

"(Y/N)!! what on earth is it that you've ordered this time?!" she yells as she watched a clearly exhausted fedex worker throw the 20th box by the entrance of the manor near the rest of the pile, curisng under their breath as they walked back to their truck when they were done and drove away angrily.

⠀ ⠀

you knew you shouldn't spend so much, and choosing days to shop out with seras wasn't much help with solving that problem, either. she enjoyed fashion almost just as much as you. regardless if she was a vampire or a former officer, she still had a teenager's mindset, so whatever clothes you picked up, she always encouraged you to get them, cheerfully complimenting you along the way.

⠀ ⠀

with you owning a monstrous amount of clothes, you're only bound to have some all over the floor of your room, causing walter's eyebrow to twitch. perhaps he's reached the end of his sanity. you always begged him to tidy up your room with the offering of a generous tip on the side if he did so. he agreed to in the end; you're lucky he cares about you so much.

⠀ ⠀

alucard didn't much mind the thought of venturing to the mall when you asked him to come along, and though he always did recommend less consumption, he still let you get whatever you wanted. it was your money at the end of the day, and in his eyes, you could do as you pleased with it.

⠀ ⠀

integra, nor you, trusted the vampire enough to drive, so you took that task instead. you giggled when he climbed his way into the passenger seat, for it was quite a strange sight to see such an ancient creature inside of a modern day machine. "how are you enjoying the car so far, alu?"

⠀ ⠀

"it may take me a while to get comfortable, my dear. a man of my time would agree that there lied more room inside even a dungeon cell." you took your eyes off of the road for a mere second to see what he was talking about, viewing that his knees were pretty much pressed up against his side of the car's dashboard due to how tall he was. you forgot to tell him that the seats were adjustable. oops!

⠀ ⠀

when entering the stores, it of course takes you a while to look around at everything, but alucard didn't complain, nor did he rush you. he's existed for 590 years and most likely has hundreds more to look forward to. he definitely has all the time in the world to wait. in fact, he liked to look around himself and recommend what he thinks would appear gorgeous on you. you learned he has very expensive taste, but what did you expect for someone who used to be of royalty?

⠀ ⠀

the lingerie shops grew to be his favorite places to go with you, and it was quite self explanatory of why. from little g-strings, to embroidery-embellished bras, to satin nightgowns, to straight up bdsm pvc bodysuits is all of what he ended up carrying on his gloved finger by the hook of their hangers, a huge grin on his face when he showed them to you. when you asked if you should try some of them on in the dressing rooms, he surprisingly denied. "as much as i would be delighted to see that luscious body at this moment, it'd be a much truer gift to first behold such a thing between the sheets of my bedding. wouldn't you agree, my sweet?"

⠀ ⠀

the shopping wasn't all just about you, either! you loved taking alucard into men's wear sections. it's not like he sees the need to shop for himself since he can simply summon garments of his own with the use of his shadows, but sometimes he'll indulge in the realism of the activity, especially when it means being with you.

⠀ ⠀

"you'd look so handsome in this! quick, go try it on!" you shoved the outfit you picked out for him into his arms and ushered him into a dressing room stall, waiting patiently on the outside. no sooner is when he came out in khaki shorts, a hawaiian shirt, flip flops and a large sun hat to match with a "you've got to be kidding me" expression scribbled onto his features.

⠀ ⠀

"what? i think it looks great on you! don't be such a debbie downer!"

⠀ ⠀

he raised an eyebrow. "oh really? and just where do you think i will be, dressed in this?"

⠀ ⠀

and that's how your next vacation was planned.

⠀ ⠀

you tried to hold back your laugh. you were being truthful, though; he was oddly one of those men that could actually pull off anything he wore, especially considering he donned a maid's outfit one time.⠀ ⠀

[retrogradedreaming]

UHHHH maybe,, you could write a little thing for reki making the sk8 fam tea? and kaoru thinking hes gonna have to pretend he likes it but then "oh wait reki can actually make tea what-"

just bc this has been living in my head for awhile sdkljfs

(capt-snoozles)

It turns out I am completely incapable of writing ANYTHING short, so have a full one shot type thing, I guess. I hope it's okay that I kinda borrowed headcanons from you and @that-was-anticlimactic for Reki with TS at a couple of small moments in the fic?

----

It used to be Kaoru alone who visited Kojiro’s restaurant when it was closed on Mondays. But since the start of winter break, Sia la Luce had become much livelier now that Reki, Langa, and Miya weren’t in school all day, and Shadow came when his days off lined up right. If Kaoru were being honest, it took some time to get used to the space no longer being only his and Kojiro’s, but he’d grown to like how their group came together like this.

The afternoons were the quietest part of these days. Kojiro took these opportunities to try out new recipes on them, leaving everyone contentedly full and pleasantly sleepy. Today, Langa had actually fallen asleep in the booth, and Reki sat beside Kaoru at the counter, playing with a tiny skateboard and making soft sounds like a small motor. Shadow and Miya sat at a table across the room, arguing over whether clown or cat makeup looked cooler while Kojiro finished cleaning. Kaoru let himself sink into the lull, Reki’s noises and that of the skateboard wheels on the counter an almost comforting presence beside him. And yet, one thing was missing, keeping him from truly relaxing.

“Seems like a good afternoon for tea,” Kojiro said, as if reading his mind as he appeared out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You want me to make some?”

“Absolutely not,” Kaoru scoffed. “People who microwave their tea should be arrested.”

“There’s no way you can tell the difference,” Kojiro said, defensive. “Hot water is hot water.”

“Only an uncultured pig would believe that,” Kaoru snapped. He was about to stand, to tell Kojiro he’d make the tea himself like he always inevitably had to, when Reki all but leaped from his seat, skateboard abandoned for the moment.

“I’ll make it!” he offered, and the way his face lit up meant that Kaoru took too long to say not to bother. By the time he’d found his words, Reki had already bounded around the counter and into the kitchen, and Kojiro didn’t even try to stop him. Before Kaoru could tell Kojiro to stop him, Reki called out to Kojiro, asking about the industrial stove, and soon, Kojiro was not only allowing Reki to make the tea, but encouraging him.

Kaoru supposed this was a step up from Kojiro’s microwave technique, but if Kaoru were likely to trust anyone other than himself to make a decent cup of tea, it wouldn’t be Reki. The idea that he’d wanted his tea made well and was unlikely to receive it as such set him on edge. As he listened to the water boil and the conversation continued around him, he found himself wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger and tugging, letting it go, and repeating the process until his scalp hurt. He didn’t even notice that Langa had woken up until he appeared beside Kaoru and spoke.

“What’s Reki doing?” he asked.

“Making tea,” Kaoru said, doing his best not to appear so anxious about something so small.

Langa peered over the edge of the counter to where Kojiro and Reki were talking in the kitchen, and then turned back to Kaoru. “I like how he makes it. I never liked it before I met him.”

Kaoru hummed a halfhearted response. He doubted that Langa’s standards were very high, given that he’d grown up in Canada. He’d likely had tea often enough, given that his mother was Japanese, but Kaoru knew from experience that plenty of people even here in Okinawa had no idea how to brew a proper cup. It was about timing, knowing how hot to make the water, how long to steep the leaves, and so many people rushed the process—or worse, forgot about it and steeped too long—that Kaoru preferred to make his own.

He couldn’t help but envision Reki handing him a bitter cup, or one that tasted like little more than hot leaf juice. He grimaced at the idea of having to drink it and pretend he liked it, suffering all the while. He would have to wait until he was home later to make something better for himself.

He was still trying to think of a polite way to decline the tea he’d obviously wanted when Reki came out bearing a tray of steaming cups and began making the rounds through the restaurant. Reki handed the first one to Langa, who accepted it, smiling softly up at Reki. Langa sipped the tea immediately, only to flinch and draw it away after the first sip.

Not promising, Kaoru thought. If he’d boiled the water, it was ruined, even if it was something as simple as green tea. And yet, Langa only took another sip while Reki looked on approvingly.

“It’s good,” Langa finally proclaimed, and Reki glowed as if he’d received praise from the emperor himself. Reki moved on, handing Kaoru his cup.

“Thank you,” Kaoru said, accepting it with both hands. Fortunately, Reki moved on to Shadow and Miya without waiting for Kaoru to try it, which meant that he didn’t know Kaoru only held onto it without making a move to taste it. If nothing else, he could enjoy the warmth that crawled from his fingertips all the way to his elbows.

Neither Miya nor Shadow hesitated in drinking theirs, though Kaoru couldn’t imagine they cared much how it tasted, as long as it was hot. And yet, as he watched, the two of them looked just as pleased as Langa when they tried it.

“Oh wow, the slime makes good tea,” Miya pronounced, hugging the cup close to him like a space heater.

“Damn, this is pretty good,” Shadow said, drinking deeply and draining half the cup. “How’d you even learn to make it like this?”

Reki shrugged, taking up his own cup, the last on the tray. He set the tray down on the counter and took the empty seat beside Langa. “I dunno, I guess I just picked it up over the years. It’s kinda like making skateboards, y’know? You have to figure out how all the parts fit together, and if you do it wrong, the tea doesn’t taste right.”

Kaoru looked up at him from the murky depths of his tea, brows raised. When it came to making tea, the analogy was rather profound, and Kaoru couldn’t argue it. Reki was right—tea was about the sum of its parts, the pieces fitting together perfectly. And as with building skateboards, the person making it had to know exactly how to combine each piece to create the whole.

“That doesn’t make any sense, but whatever,” Shadow said, taking another sip. “All I care about is that it doesn’t suck.”

“How come you’ve never made us tea before?” Miya asked, eyes trained on the Switch he’d pulled from his pocket now that he’d abandoned his conversation with Shadow.

“I don’t really have the patience for it,” Reki said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kinda like, if I don’t wanna put in the time to do it right, why bother?”

While everyone was wrapped up in conversation, Kaoru finally chanced a discreet sip. If it was as bad as he’d expected, he could school his expression appropriately while they were all distracted. Perhaps he could even get away without having to lie about how good it was. And yet, when the tea touched his tongue, he paused.

It wasn’t too hot.

It wasn’t too weak or too strong.

It wasn’t too bitter and the leaves didn’t taste as though they’d been burnt.

It was, as far as Kaoru was concerned, some of the best tea he’d had outside his own home. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to say so. He sipped it again, just to make sure he hadn’t deluded himself based on everyone else’s praise. Sure enough, it was almost more delicious the second time.

“You surprised?” Kojiro murmured at his ear, his own cup dangling from his fingertips. Kaoru jumped, nearly spilling his tea. When he turned to face him, Kojiro’s lips quirked in a smug grin, and he raised one brow meaningfully. Kaoru shot him a hard glower in return, a silent command to keep his mouth shut before Kaoru turned back to Reki.

“It’s delicious,” Kaoru said, and it wasn’t forced in the least. “I’m impressed.”

Reki, who had already immersed himself in talking to Langa, gaped at Kaoru, one of his hoodie strings falling from between his teeth. Then, he flashed a wide grin. “Glad you like it!”

“Have you ever practiced tea ceremony?” Kaoru asked, reluctantly setting his tea down on the counter.

“Nah, my parents let me try it once when I was younger, but I kept messing up the steps,” Reki said. “It’s not really fun when people get mad at you for doing it wrong.”

“I studied it for some time,” Kaoru said, remembering how the order felt comforting, how the amount of concentration it required gave his anxious mind something to focus on, how the simple yet refined aesthetic felt like clearing his head. In recent years, he didn’t have time for it with his calligraphy business, but a part of him missed it. “It’s quite a bit different from drinking tea like this, but if you wanted to, perhaps we could do a...modified version of it. Something less formal with everyone here.”

Reki’s eyes brightened, and he looked to Langa, who only seemed to share his enthusiasm. “It sounds fun, yeah! A lot better than getting yelled at by a bunch of old people because ‘tradition.’”

“I’d say so,” Kaoru said, and they devolved into talking about their favorite teas and the best ways to brew them. Kaoru couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to someone who actually understood that tea was an art even more than it was a drink. But Reki did, and when the rest of the group finally left, leaving Kaoru and Kojiro alone in the restaurant to clean up, Kojiro nudged him with an elbow.

“You didn’t think Reki could make tea like that, did you?” he said, the words teasing but too close to Kaoru’s own thoughts for comfort.

“Shut up or I’ll leave you here to wash dishes alone,” Kaoru quipped, even as he accepted the next cup to dry. “I will admit, I was pleasantly surprised.”

“I knew you would be,” Kojiro said as he dried his hands and stretched.

“Anything is better than microwaved tea,” Kaoru said. And although it was true, he couldn’t help but look forward to the next Monday, and the last before the kids started school again.

[novelconcepts]

fic: walking with the lady

Every movie, every book, every story about the horrors of letting in the ghosts has prepared Dani for the constant state of alarm. The panic. The discomfort of the situation.

Not a single goddamn one told her how stupid it would be.

***

The first time Viola Lloyd rears her spectral head outside of a dream, Dani is doing her best to enjoy an incredibly pleasant spring morning. She’s been having strange thoughts--strange echoes of night terrors that have been escalating, images weaving as though shot from the depths of some great ocean--for a few months now. Has been trying her very best to take Jamie’s advice and not worry about it. One day at a time. Stop gazing into every reflective surface in the county and just...live. 

And she’s been doing that, she thinks, with a decent amount of peaceful abandon for a woman carrying an unknown beast in the depths of her psyche. She’s traveled. She’s seen much of America, and more of Jamie. She’s learned she’ll never get any better at tea, that she’s honestly not terrible at pasta, that she can talk the ear off old women who just want to stop and smell the flowers. It’s been a serene six, seven, eight years, if she lays them all end to end, and she’s glad of it. 

But the dreams are coming faster now. With more regularity. Long stretches of night fade into black and white, into memories she can feel with her whole body, but knows aren’t her own. Corsets and sweeping skirts, a sister she never had, a husband. A child. None of this belongs to Dani, so it must be her, mustn’t it? 

It scares her. She talks about it to Jamie when she wakes--sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the middle of the night; whether she’s truly awake or not, Jamie always listens. They always hunker back down, holding tight to one another, Jamie whispering into her hair that you’re still here, you’re still you, it’s all okay, Poppins. It helps, as much as anything’s going to. 

What doesn’t help is sitting here on this park bench, a list of shopping plans open in her lap, and hearing--hearing isn’t even the right word for it, it’s like a ringing voice coming up from the very back of her head--someone say, “And what on earth is that?”

Dani sits straight upright, every line of her body rigid with fear. “What...is what?”

She’s said the words out loud, she realizes when an elderly man with a basket of stale bread turns slowly to look at her. Her mouth twists itself into a rictus grin of apology, and he shuffles off, looking very much like a man prepared for his own murder at the hands of a lunatic schoolteacher. 

“Well,” the voice says, coolly amused. “That was embarrassing for us both.”

What, Dani thinks, the fuck is going on?

“What’s going on,” Viola Lloyd’s deep, accented voice says, “is truly beyond my knowledge. Do you know the last time I had this many thoughts of my own? Must have been...oh, three hundred years, now...”

Why, Dani thinks furiously, are you having them now?

“I certainly couldn't say.” Viola sounds astonished. “The last I recall, I was trying to reclaim my child--”

Flora, Dani interrupts with a rush of anger, was not your child. 

She imagines she can feel Viola’s hand flip to and fro, carelessly. “It’s all apples in the end, isn’t it?”

She’s clenching her fists in her lap, she realizes, as if there’s anything to fight. As if she could ward Viola off from inside her own body. 

“Oh,” Viola says coolly, “I wouldn’t worry just yet. I couldn’t say for sure--it’s all rather new, you must understand--but I don’t think I could do anything to you. Not yet. Look, here, I’ll try...”

Dani’s muscles strain against an invisible force that never comes. Viola chuckles. 

“See? Nothing. The lights are on, my dear, but none but you is really home.”

Then why are you awake? Dani demands. 

“Not a clue, darling. It’s nice, though, isn’t it? You really take it for granted in life.”

Take what for--

“Seeing,” Viola breathes. “I haven’t seen anything properly in centuries. I’d forgotten how bright the world was. How full of...color.”

Is it Dani’s imagination, or does Viola’s tone hold an edge of disgust on that final word?

“So, again, I find myself asking. What on earth do you call that?”

Dani allows instinct to turn her head, somehow sensing the direction Viola wishes for her to look. She finds herself staring at a young child playing at her mother’s feet. 

I--it’s... And it’s here, in this moment, faced with the nearly impossible task of explaining to the 400-year-old ghost woman who shares her body what a Slinky is for that Dani Clayton decides this whole cohabitation thing might have been a mistake. 

***

“Hang on,” Jamie says. “Hang on, she’s awake in there?”

Dani, folded nearly double on their couch with her face in her hands, nods. Her head is pounding. Viola has been, ah, what’s the polite way to put it? Running her mouth. For nearly four hours. 

“She’s got some...opinions,” Dani mumbles into her cupped hands. Jamie stops rubbing light circles into her back, curious. 

“About what?”

“Might be a shorter list, to ask what she doesn’t have an opinion about,” Dani says. At the back of her head, she feels Viola cross her arms. 

“This sounds like you are on the path to impudence, Miss Clayton.”

“But hang on, I thought--” Jamie seems to be choosing her words carefully. “I thought she was just sort of...in there. Tucked away, like the kids said. What do you mean she can see?”

Dani blows out a long breath, wishing dearly for a cigarette. “I don’t know, Jamie, I’m not the authority on carrying Victorian women around in my skull.”

“Bit nearer to it than me, Poppins.” Jamie’s smiling, plainly trying to make her feel better. Dani turns to glower at her. 

“I love you very much. Please don’t test me right now. She hasn’t stopped talking for more than twenty minutes all afternoon.”

Jamie raises her hands in surrender. “Can she...can she see me now?”

“Tell her,” Viola says. “Tell her I can see her, and her mannishly-inappropriate hairstyle.”

“I will not be saying that,” Dani mutters. Jamie raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you having a conversation now? What’s she saying?”

“Please let her know I find her insistence upon men’s trousers silly at best, her blouses are entirely too loose, and I am bewildered by the wealth of ankle she seems to find appropriate in mixed company--”

“She says you have a nice smile,” Dani says. Jamie’s eyebrows raise to her hairline. Viola makes a horrible little noise of revulsion.

“How dare you place words in my mouth!”

“You are absolutely not telling me the truth, are you?” Jamie says in the same moment. Dani groans.

“Aspirin. I am going to need so much aspirin.”

***

It’s not all the time, thankfully; Dani thinks she’d go mad if Viola were truly there at all hours, yammering away about silks and petticoats and the good old days when a person could just drop dead of the plague with no notice. Sometimes, Viola even goes days at a stretch without saying a word, as though she’s sunk back to sleep in whatever little corner of Dani’s mind she calls a bedroom. 

And then, like a thunderstorm, she emerges once more. Usually with something snappy and irritating to share with Dani.

“Are we really wearing that?”

“There is no we, Viola,” Dani grumbles. She’s in the process of trying to choose between a flower-patterned dress and a denim vest, unable to gauge what kind of day it’s going to be when she steps out of the closet and into the chaos. Business has been booming down at The Leafling, which is wonderful, but more than a little overwhelming. And Jamie, god love her, has taken to watching Dani when she thinks Dani won’t notice, always with this worried little crease between her eyes. 

It’s making her crazy, if she’s honest about it. Jamie isn’t the worrier in the relationship, and watching her slip into the role is making Dani feel worse about the whole situation. She needs Jamie to tell her it’s all fine, it’s all perfectly all right, they’re going to make it through this new weirdness together no problem. 

“My dear, we became a we the night you said the magic words,” Viola says, a bit pettily. “Or have you forgotten me already?”

“How,” Dani grits out, “on earth am I supposed to forget you? Feel like I spend every day just...waiting for you to spring up and ask some idiotic question about cars or airplanes or deodorant--”

“For a schoolteacher, you surely lack for patience, Miss Clayton.”

Dani closes her eyes, searching for strength. Her hands grope, landing on dress and vest and yanking them free. “You know what? Both. We’re doing both today.”

“We most certainly are not! Not even a glove to be found? And again with the florals! We’ve been over how tacky the florals are, Miss Clayton. Miss Clayton, are you listening?”

“No,” Dani says decisively, wriggling into the layers and looking around for her chunkiest pair of earrings. 

“You are the scandal of the town, Miss Clayton,” Viola sniffs.

***

“Does she, ah...watch when we do this?”

Dani groans. They’d been having such a nice evening--an old movie fading slowly into wandering hands, Jamie’s mouth making its way down her neck, Jamie’s fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt and tickling her ribs. She’d just flipped Jamie onto her back, was just looking to remove the deeply inconvenient articles of cloth between them, when Jamie pressed a palm lightly against her chest. 

“Not trying to be weird about it,” Jamie says, breathless. Her eyes are dark and heavy; though she’s stopped Dani moving closer, one of her legs has wound around Dani’s hip, easing her in. It’s giving Dani the worst kind of mixed message, to say the least. 

“Would you like us to put this sort of thing on hold until I find a way to exorcise the demon from my head, Jamie?”

“I did not say that. I decidedly said nothing of the kind.”

Dani lets her head fall forward, covering Jamie’s face in a fall of blonde. “Sorry. That was snippy. I just...I don’t know the answer. She’s...” She tilts her head, eyes shut, searching. “Quiet. For now.”

Jamie brushes her hair back, cups the side of her face, thumb moving in a slow arc across her cheekbone. “S’all right then. Can’t blame me being curious, can you? I mean, it’s not every day you find a third party sneaks into your bed.”

Dani leans into the soft stroke of her hand, sighing. “I don’t like it, either, you know. She’s so...judgey. I hadn’t realized ghosts could be judgey.”

“What’s she judging?” The hand on her chest slides, gripping a fistful of her shirt, pulling her toward Jamie. Dani sighs again, letting Jamie kiss her with the soft determination of someone apologizing for stopping this train in the first place. 

“Me,” she murmurs against Jamie’s lips. “You.”

“Me?” Jamie sounds affronted. “What’s there to judge about me, I’m a bloody peach.”

Dani laughs, bites her lower lip until Jamie groans. “It’s not anything personal. It’s just...the whole world is so different from what she remembers. There’s TV, jean shorts, women out there having jobs and lives without consent of their husbands...for her, it must be the Wild West.”

“Judges what she doesn’t understand, is that it?” Jamie is doing an admirable job of pretending to still be invested in this conversation, even as her hands are making short work of Dani’s sweatpants. Dani sucks in a breath. 

“I guess. Yeah. Can’t blame her for that, really.”

Jamie mulls this over, fingers tracing hipbone. Her nails bite gently into soft skin. “Does she judge us for this, I wonder?”

“Do you care?”

“Not,” Jamie says, twisting her hand and bringing their mouths together hard, “in the least.”

***

“Put it out the window.”

“I am not putting it out the window, Viola.”

“Down a flight of stairs, then! What in all cosmic reaches of hell is this for, if not throwing it somewhere it can never harm another soul again!”

Dani exhales through her nose, slowly, embracing every meditative memory of dealing with errant children. “I am not,” she says slowly to the empty apartment, “going to throw my television anywhere. And I'd really appreciate it if you’d stop making that suggestion every time I turn it on.”

“You are letting your soul rot from the inside out with this filth!” Viola is all but shrieking. Dani imagines her pacing back and forth, back and forth, her hands wild. “Your moral fiber, Miss Clayton. What of your moral fiber?”

“If MTV rots away one’s moral fiber,” Dani says, as calmly as she knows how, “then I suspect we’re all lost causes, anyway.”

Viola is silent for such a long time, Dani thinks she’s done the trick. She turns her attention back to the laundry she’s been folding to the tune of Janet Jackson. Her head bobs gently in time as the videos shuffle past--Madonna, Michael, Paula, George. Then, with the hour change, newer fare. She’s still getting around to some of these artists, still trying to work out how she feels about them. 

"Did you hear that?” Viola seethes. “What was that about an anaconda? Is this man suggesting we feed a woman to snakes? What barbarism do your people accept in this age?”

Dani folds a pair of Jamie’s socks with such deliberate care, she nearly forgets to breathe while doing it. 

“Moral fiber,” Viola hisses. “Moral fiber is wasted on this age of nudity and...and...hammertime.”

Dani finds herself desperately invested in ironing the wrinkles out of a pair of jeans with her hand until Viola goes quiet again.

***

“You could have such nice hair,” Viola croons. “Such nice hair, if you would only put them away...”

“They’re convenient,” Dani says, scraping her hair back into a pink scrunchie. Viola makes a noise of disgust. 

“They’re abhorrent. Honestly, your time and its...fashions. What do you call this?”

She’s gesturing toward the bathroom counter, to the little basket that holds all the hair supplies. Dani sighs. 

“It’s a headband, Viola. We like headbands. They keep the hair out of our eyes.”

“There are other ways. Fine hats. Lovely veils. Why don’t you own any lovely veils, Dani, do you want the common folk seeing your every decision in your eyes?”

Dani reaches for the hairspray. Behind her, Jamie bustles in with shirt half-buttoned, suspenders swinging around her thighs. Viola makes another catty little noise. 

“Any news?” Jamie asks, reaching around for a hairbrush and kissing Dani’s cheek. 

“She doesn’t like scrunchies,” Dani reports. “And she’s started calling me Dani.”

Jamie frowns. “Good sign or bad?”

“Impossible to guess.”

“Tell her you want some veils,” Viola says sweetly. “And for her to learn the value of a fine skirt.”

Dani, ignoring this, reaches around the back of Jamie’s neck and pulls her into a searing kiss. Jamie drops the hairbrush with a clatter, leaning Dani back against the counter and gripping the small of her back like she’s suddenly forgotten they’re both late for work. 

When they break apart, they’re both flushed, Dani giggling into the underside of Jamie’s jaw, Jamie’s eyes glazed. In the back of her mind, she hears Viola sigh. 

“That is truly childish, you know.”

***

It’s kind of an accidental habit, punishing her inner ghost for bad behavior by channeling her frustrations into sex. She couldn’t explain it if she tried, except to say Viola does tend to shut up when Dani’s properly distracted. Maybe it’s just the way the connection works, thinner when Dani isn’t willing to give it energy. Maybe Viola’s embarrassed. Either way, a year after Viola first speaks, her life with Jamie burns hotter than it ever has. 

It’s best when Viola is trying to run her mouth over Jamie’s fashion sense, she’s noticed. It is, in fact, the only way to shut Viola up about the aforementioned fashion sense. Which Dani intellectually understands; coming up from a world 400 years away, where women dressed in endless layers and a person’s value was often found in the shine of her jewels and the rich fabric of her skirts, slamming face-first into the 1990s must have been a trip. Truly, Viola is lucky Dani didn’t cart her out of that lake earlier. If she thinks scrunchies are bad, she should have seen the heyday of shoulder pads. 

Honestly, though, the worst thing is listening to Viola trill on about how much better Jamie could look if she’d only bow to the whims of femininity. Jamie, whose primary word on fashion has always been “can I dig a hole in this?” is perfect just the way she is. In fact, as the years go on and her jeans grow cuffs, her shorts grow shorter, her tops crop midway up her stomach, Dani thinks the world is finally suiting Jamie instead of the other way around. 

“She’s prancing around for the world to see--”

“It’s ninety-six degrees out,” Dani says in a low voice. She understands these conversations with Viola can be internalized, but she tends to wind up wearing this distant expression every time, and Jamie can spot it a mile off. Best to just mutter aloud in the sanctity of their own home. 

“She’s walking her wares up and down the block,” Viola rages on. “Not a shawl to be seen!”

“Jamie,” Dani calls from the kitchen, “have you ever in your life worn a shawl?”

“That’s, uh, one of those blankets with the fringy bits, yeah?” Jamie calls back. She’s bent over the air conditioning unit, trying to coax life into the old girl. The cropped line of her black t-shirt rides up her back, revealing glistening skin. Dani tips her head to enjoy the view. “I’ll pass on account of any blanket in this heat being like to kill me.”

“Best not to test it,” Dani agrees. Viola heaves the longest-suffering sigh Dani’s ever heard. 

“It doesn’t bother you in the least, your woman out there, where anyone could see her...her bare stomach!”

“One,” Dani says coolly, “she’s my girlfriend, not my woman. Two, I’ve never once tried to dictate her clothing, and I’m not stopping because a dead woman insists. Three, I happen to like it.”

“Like what?” Jamie strolls back to her, pushing sweaty hair off her forehead with a sigh. She stops a few inches away, rocking back and forth on her heels like she wants nothing more than to close the distance despite the mind-numbing heat. 

“Viola is commenting upon your more risqué clothing choices.”

“What? This?” Jamie grasps the exceedingly high-cut hem of her shirt and tugs it gently upward, teasing. “What’s her problem with all this?”

“It’s on display, evidently.”

“As it should be,” Jamie says almost primly. “I’m a fine specimen to behold. Learn to enjoy it, love, it’ll be faster than trying to change the view.”

This last, she says in a slightly louder voice, as though speaking to the shadow behind Dani’s eyes. She’s grinning, and Dani has time to think how strange it is, how quickly they’ve learned to accommodate Viola’s appearances into their conversations--Jamie has taken to leaving beats between her sentences, allowing for Dani to process two people speaking at once--before Jamie is wrapping both arms around her and lifting her off the floor. She squeals in surprise, delight turning to desire as Jamie licks a bead of sweat from her neck. 

“Not again,” Viola sighs. “You’ll wake the whole village.”

“Apartment,” Dani corrects, catching Jamie by the jaw and kissing her hungrily. It’s too hot for this, probably, but she can’t quite remember how to care when Jamie pulls free of her grasp and slides to her knees, taking Dani’s skirt with her. 

“It’s a nightmare, regardless.”

***

Eventually, Viola proves herself capable of learning a thing or two. Namely, that she is welcome to run commentary on anyone in the world except for Jamie. 

Even old ghosts can learn new tricks, apparently, although it takes a number of months, a great deal of sex, and one memorable weekend in which--upon Viola raging over every article in Jamie’s side of the closet for half an hour--Dani simply removed the option of clothing from Viola’s sight altogether. 

“This,” Jamie panted, both of them on the floor with a sheet draped over their tangled limbs, “is working for me in the weirdest way, Poppins.”

“I think she’s really starting to hate me,” Dani said conversationally, even as her fingers slipped between Jamie’s legs yet again. Jamie’s hips rose to meet her, one hand burying itself in her hair. 

“Well, that makes one of us, doesn’t it?”

***

Not commenting on Jamie, naturally, does nothing to stop Viola talking about every other goddamn thing in the world. 

“We’re going to have to have a long talk about not shaming women for their bodies, you know,” Dani tells her one afternoon. Viola has been tearing a young woman to pieces over her short skirt, furious that someone so pristine could soil herself with such impunity. Dani must be getting used to this in the weirdest way possible, because this kind of floral language is starting to feel second-nature. 

“I would never shame anyone,” Viola protests. “I am simply stating fact. Men do not value women as it is, and while we may win their games, we get nowhere at all if we do not play them.”

“This isn’t a game, Viola, it’s her life. Her body. She can do whatever she likes with it.”

“But I want her to succeed,” Viola insists. There’s an almost disconcerting eagerness to the words. She really truly believes what she’s saying. “A woman viewed as nothing more than a strumpet will have an even more difficult time securing a dowry, and then where will she be?”

“In college?” Dani suggests blithely. “Traveling? Living isn’t just for men, Viola, I know you know this. You refused the oath of obedience on your wedding day.”

“Of course it’s not for men’s sake alone, but when the law--”

“The law is different here,” Dani says, almost gently. “Has been for a long time. Or haven’t you noticed how well Jamie and I get along without a man to be found?”

Viola’s silence stretches so long, Dani’s sure she’s either gone back to sleep or is finally choosing this moment to let the ugly banner of homophobia unfurl. She’s been waiting for this moment for years, it seems, waiting for the ghost in her head to mimic her mother on the one and only occasion she attempted to send home a letter. 

“You’re different,” Viola says at last, very softly. Dani blinks. 

“Pardon?”

“You’re different,” Viola repeats. “Jamie is your forever. Does that young girl have her forever, Miss Clayton?”

“Well--I don't know, I don’t suppose it’s my business--”

“Perhaps she will find it in one like our Jamie,” Viola says impatiently. “But perhaps she will find instead the stones of men who have not, over four centuries, really changed all that much. Is it so wrong of me, to have a mother’s care for that?”

Dani doesn’t know how to answer. Doesn’t have the first idea, when faced with a Viola who is not simply catty for cattiness’ sake, but genuine. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, unable to find argument. 

“We just. We just don’t pick on girls for what they do with their bodies, all right? It’s...it’s cruel, and it isn’t necessary.”

Viola sighs. “Fine. But we still ought to discuss the pattern choices. Those polka dots are not flattering in the least.”

It’s only later, watching Jamie chop carrots for dinner, that Dani realizes Viola had said our. Our Jamie. 

“Oh sweet Christ,” she mumbles.

***

The change is slow. Subtle. If not for the fact of carrying this woman in her head, Dani’s not sure she even would have noticed. 

“She what?” Jamie looks up from the plant she’s tending, fingernails grimed with soil, wedding ring carefully strung upon a thick chain around her neck until she can clean up again. “She...sorry, what?”

“I can’t be sure,” Dani muses. “It sounds...crazy. But I think she’s starting to like you.”

“Well, sure,” Jamie laughs. “I’m a deeply likable human being. But this is the Lady, yeah? Same one who dragged Peter fucking Quint to his death? Same one who thinks I show too much skin?”

“I’m...not convinced she thinks that anymore.” It’s really hard to say for sure. On the one hand, it’s possible Viola has shut up about Jamie’s shorn sleeves and shorts because every time she mentioned either, Dani made it her personal life’s mission to make sure Jamie never wore anything else around the house. On the other...

“I think she looked at your butt the other day.”

Jamie raises her eyes slowly, brow furrowing. “Can she do that? Turn your eyes to something you weren’t already looking at?”

“No,” Dani says, a bit stiffly, all too aware of stepping into the trap. Jamie grins. 

“Thought not.”

“But it was different,” Dani presses on through flushing cheeks. “I mean--even if I was already looking, she was--I mean--she--”

She doesn’t know how to explain it. How the rumble in her chest, already so familiar at the sight of Jamie puttering around their home, had seemed to expand until it encompassed all of her. How it was like someone had turned the heat in the room to its breaking point. 

“I can just tell, okay?” she says, aggrieved. “She looked at your butt, and she liked it.”

Jamie makes a thoughtful face, brushing dirt off her hands with slow, deliberate motions. “So...what you’re saying is...your personal ghostie has a crush on your wife?”

Dani presses her face against the counter, letting the cool metal relieve her blush. “Shit. Yeah. I think she might.”

“This is,” Jamie says triumphantly, pressing up against Dani from behind and kissing the back of her neck, “the funniest thing that has ever happened, by a country goddamn mile.”

***

A series of events, cascading in short order, that Dani almost actually feels bad about. If one could feel guilty about putting strain on one’s personal-pan Casper. 

The Britney Spears video, for one. Viola still does not like music videos--or music, frankly, unless it involves a ridiculous number of flutes and orchestral swells--but she’s grown to tolerate them. Mostly. 

That is, until Britney sways onscreen in a plaid skirt and schoolgirl pigtails. 

“Fuck,” Dani gasps, hand coming down hard against her own breastbone. It’s like someone grabbed the dial on her blood pressure and cranked it all the way up. That someone, she suspects, being the dead woman who has been more and more present of late. 

“I--I cannot--I simply am not capable of understanding--” Viola sounds like she’s short-circuiting. “I know we are not meant to comment, but what on earth is she doing?!”

“Dancing,” Dani says sharply, trying to coax her breathing back down. Is this what a stroke feels like? Is her fucking ghost roommate giving her an actual stroke? “Viola, you’ve seen dancing.”

“She is so young! She is a child! Who is protecting this person from the world?” Viola is furious. Viola is exploding. Dani sort of wonders if her chest is going to explode, too. 

“She’s...a pop star. This is what they get paid lots and lots of money to do.” It’s a bad answer, she knows. These videos make her a little uncomfortable too, when she thinks on them too long. But Viola? Viola’s rage is a towering beast of a thing. For a minute, lungs scraping at the air, Dani is genuinely afraid this is the point where the switch flips. Where she finds herself staring at the room from the back of her own head. 

“Someone,” Viola says in a low, terrible voice, “must protect these children.”

It takes almost an hour to calm her down. Dani doesn’t turn MTV back on for a while after that. 

***

“The. The moon?” The opposite end of the emotional spectrum this time. If Viola had been nearly apoplectic over Britney’s choreography, she now sounds faint.

“You should have floated that a bit more softly,” Dani tells Jamie, who looks confused. 

“Float what, all I did was mention NASA--”

“The moon,” Viola repeats. “We have seen. The moon.”

“She’s having trouble with the moon landing,” Dani says. Jamie waves her hands helplessly.

“Poppins, I have trouble understanding the geography of Texas, we all have problems.”

“We have,” Viola breathes, “stepped foot. Upon. The moon.”

Dani pours herself another large glass of wine.

***

“How’s this, then?” Jamie gives a very small, somewhat self-conscious twirl. “Too much? Too little? Too, ah, revealing, as the ghost contingent might say?”

Dani, leaning against the bedroom wall, can’t quite find the words. Viola, too, is conspicuously silent. 

“It’s bad,” Jamie says, nodding fervently. “Yeah, y’know, I think I knew it when I picked it up. Better on the sales rack, as they say. I can just...if you wouldn’t mind popping the zip real quick...”

“Yes, Dani,” Viola says quietly. “Pop the zip.”

“You don’t even know what that means,” Dani hisses. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“It’s not bad,” Dani says quickly, ignoring the little harrumph Viola utters. “It’s very not bad. Opposite of bad, really.”

Relief floods Jamie’s face. The dress is low cut in a way very little of her clean-up clothes are, with a slit running clear up the leg. Patterned in burgundy petals, the black velvet is stark against her pale skin. 

“I won’t get run out of the convention, then? Only they said there’s a bit about drinks and networking, and it was just shy of black-tie. I could do that instead. Get a black tie. Think I’d look nice in a black tie.”

“The dress,” Viola says in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Tell her it is a nice dress.”

“It’s a nice dress,” Dani repeats with comic dazedness. “Best dress I’ve ever seen, maybe.”

“And now,” Viola says soothingly, “you go to her. Walk confidently now, shoulders back, chin up--”

“Are you...wing-man-ing me toward my own wife?” 

“Seduction requires confidence, Dani.”

“What’s she saying?” Jamie’s face has gone a curious mix of apprehensive and amused. Dani swallows. 

“Seduction requires confidence, evidently.” 

A slow grin spreads across Jamie’s face. Dani raises a hand, finger extended. 

“Don’t. Don’t make that smug face.”

“What’s smug about it?” She’s moving across the room, arms already reaching. “This is my very natural expression, I’ll have you know. The most normal expression in the world for a woman whose wife is being told to undress her by the ancient rage-ghost sharing her body.”

“Our lives,” Dani says helplessly, already pressing herself flush against Jamie, “are different than other people’s lives.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees in a low voice, sliding the sweater over Dani’s head. “Can’t find it in me to complain, though, can you?”

***

It’s weird, almost. Weirder, that it’s almost not. That the beast in the jungle, the creature Dani spent nearly a decade dreading, has pounced at last and...mostly, she just seems to want to see Dani happy. 

Jamie finds it hilarious, in that pretend-callous way Jamie has of smoothing over genuine concern with soft laughter. She doesn’t like Dani sharing her mental space with someone at all hours, Viola popping up like a wack-a-mole game on high. But, if Dani must share the space with anyone, at least--

“It’s someone who thinks I'm gorgeous.”

“You are gorgeous,” Dani replies, a bit exasperated. “Gorgeous, silly, perfect person. But my inner ghost has a crush on you, that isn’t strange for you?”

“Poppins, my life has been strange since a doe-eyed American strolled into it and told me she still saw her dead fiancé when we kissed.” Jamie reclines on the bed in a sleep shirt and underwear, hands playing lightly with the pillowcase beneath her head. “Strange is my bread and butter these days, and if I had to sacrifice you to have it any other way, we both know how it would go.”

Dani makes a mulish sound under her breath. Jamie cups a hand to her ear. 

“Say again?”

“It’s weird,” she repeats, arms crossed over her chest. “She’s weird. I always thought she’d do something bad--walk me off a roof, or strangle someone to death, or try to rob a convenience store. But mostly she just wants to protect young girls from an uncaring world and look at your butt in the shower.”

“That is...very specific,” Jamie says lightly. Dani shakes her head. 

“It’s so bizarre. The longer this goes on, the more she sees of the world, it’s like...like she’s getting more real. More Viola, less Lady.”

Jamie sits up, hand sliding to rest high on Dani’s thigh as if to shield her from harm. “But not more solid, right? Not taking up space you already rent?”

Dani shakes her head. “That’s the thing. She doesn't feel like she’s taking over. And it feels...like she should.”

“You want her to?” 

“No, no, of course not.” Dani raises Jamie’s knuckles to her lips, raining soft kisses up and down her hand until the tension goes out of her brow. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. This isn’t...what I expected.”

Jamie exhales, shifting her weight until she’s sitting in Dani’s lap. She takes a Dani’s face between her hands, kisses her long and slow until Dani eases back against the headboard. 

“This is good, Poppins. You’re a good influence. You were on those kids, and on me, and now on this Lady of yours. Maybe that’s all a ghost needs, deep down.”

Dani leans into her, lets the rhythm of kiss and gentle bite and hands slipping beneath her clothes carry her away for a while. Still, no Viola, and she’s grateful. She doesn’t like to think how that would feel, Viola popping up while Jamie’s curling her fingers deep, groaning soft against her shoulder. There is a time and a place for hauntings, and time with Jamie is something else entirely. 

She’s pretty sure Viola even respects that. Which is, like everything else, incredibly strange. 

***

Viola attends their second wedding. Their real wedding. It’s bizarre on a level Dani isn’t prepared to deal with, feeling her surface as the plans become reality. Jamie’s got flowers, naturally, and Owen’s catering, and Henry has the kids--who are kids no longer, but fully-formed people with lives of their own--running errands on the day. And Dani...

Dani is looking at herself in a wedding dress for the second time in her life, only this time, she can breathe. 

“You are radiant,” Viola says. Dani closes her eyes for a moment, steels herself. 

“Nothing else to say? No notes?”

“You chose wisely,” Viola says. Dani sighs. 

“I figured lace was classic, and someone told me I had nice shoulders once, so--”

“The dress is beautiful,” Viola says. “But I was not talking about your grooming for the day.”

Dani gives a shaky laugh. “I love her, you know. I really do.”

“I can tell.” A beat of silence. Then: “I did not understand at first. Her. Or you. I suppose I will never understand completely. But...I understand the depths of what you feel. It is a part of me, too, I think. That devotion, sinking into all the spaces where I had forgotten.”

“You’re in love with Jamie, too?” Dani asks, not really wanting the answer. Viola laughs. 

“Yes. And no. You and I are intertwined, Miss Clayton. What you feel, I feel, to a degree. More importantly, I have seen your life with her. The life you build with the reckless joy of two people doomed one day to die.”

“Thanks,” Dani says, a bit sharply. She senses Viola putting her hands up, a terribly-modern gesture of surrender. 

“You understand what I mean. It takes courage, to love this completely. To do so while carrying a burden neither of us can truly comprehend is...something else altogether. There is a strength there I could not have understood on my most willful of days.”

“You turned Death away at your own doorstep,” Dani points out, smiling. Viola is pleased. 

“I did, didn’t I? And I could never regret it, even now. But you. You are doing something so much more incredible. Loving, even knowing what ending love must craft.”

“This is a bit dark for my wedding day,” Dani points out. Viola nods. 

“You are radiant. And you are fortunate. And I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”

It is the strangest wedding toast she’s ever heard, and something within Dani’s heart has never been more at peace.

***

“How’s our Lady doing tonight?” Jamie asks as Dani slips into bed beside her. She tips her head, thinking on it. Viola, as she usually is once Dani crosses the bedroom threshold, is nowhere to be found. 

“Good, I think. Calm.”

“And my wife?” Jamie looks at her, eyes serious. “You’ve been quieter lately. Fighting her less?”

“She’s been fighting me less,” Dani says. “She...likes it here, I think. Likes us. You know, I thought after this much time, she’d get bored or restless or...go back to her old ways, but...”

“But I’m just too gorgeous,” Jamie teases. Dani slings a leg across her body, holds tight to her with hands that never feel as though they can hold on hard enough. 

“I think sometimes...sometimes it’s just about remembering. What it’s like to be a person. What it’s like to be in love.”

“Mm,” Jamie agrees, fingertips drawing dizzying spirals on the bare back of Dani’s shoulder. “Well done, you. You’ve tamed your beast.”

Dani sighs, content. “I think it was a joint effort.”

“Yes,” Jamie agrees, kissing the top of her head. “Because I am, famously, too gorgeous to deny.”

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None for this chapter!

A/N: Nothing major happens in this chapter, this is sorta just like the beginning stages.

(Y/n) let out a load groan, hand searching aimlessly for the alarm clock on her side table. “Where is it?!” she continued to slap her hand around on her table, many objects falling to the floor before her hand finally landed on the right one, the rooster noises ceasing as her hand collided with the big snooze button. She rolled over, sighing as she stared at her speckled ceiling. “Perhaps I really should take the time to learn how to use the alarm on my phone.” it wasn’t that she was bad with technology persay. It’s just if it was produced after the year of 2008 you could forget it. Could you really blame her though? During all her years at Hogwarts, she had never made the switch her fellow classmates made with modern technology. Sure she had a smart phone but the only thing she could manage to do with it is call, text, and make notes in the notes app (something she had just recently learned as well).

Unwillingly, she crawled out of bed, stretching as she let out a large yawn, bones snapping and cracking like a New Year’s firework. She made her way to the bathroom, looking into the same mirror she always did, watching the light in the center flicker the same way as always. Life for (Y/n) was seemingly unchanging. Day after day, month after month, was spent exactly the same. She’d wake up, get ready for work, and then travel a few blocks down the street to open the bakery. Her bakery.

It wasn’t that (Y/n) didn’t enjoy what she did. She happened to enjoy her job very much. All her friends at Hogwart’s had encouraged her, giving her the push she need to travel the journey of opening her own business. It was something she had always wanted to do but her parents begged her not to. In their words they didn’t want ‘an over zealous and unrealistic’ daughter on ther hands. However, their rude words simply were fuel to the fire. During her 5th year, she began to busk tables at various shops in Hogsmeade. It was hard work, balancing long shifts at 3 different shops and still maintaining decent scores in each class. But, she knew if she couldn’t handle that then there was no way she’d be able to handle running a bakery. So day in and day out she’d work, and work, and work and by the end of her 7th year she had a decent amount of money saved up! 

The first issue had been finding a place in a good area that would gain traction and attention while the second one was finding someone willing to sell to someone fresh out of school with no prior business experience. She’d spoken to many people in various different places, some good, and some bad before she finally had been blessed with the chance of meeting Mary and her wife Denise. It was a miracle really. (Y/n) was short on the money, exponentially so however, Mary had sold to her anyways. She said she saw a passion in the girl that she hadn’t seen for a very long time and that it was something she wanted to help foster considering she had had her time to live her dreams and explore passions of her own. So with that, a handshape was exchanged for a beat up envolope filled with the entirety of the girl’s life savings. She had invested every nickel and dime she had ever earned into the place and she prayed it wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Which brought her to where she was today: a proud owner of a highly successful business. And of course, with great business comes a nice chunk of money which caught her parents’ attention. They had began to call her everyday but when that they didn’t work, they showed up at her shop unannounced. At first, she had felt warm inside. Her usual cold and distant parents had come to visit her! However, when they started crunching out numbers and percentages, that short lived happiness was replaced by irritation in which she quickly kicked them out, placing a charm on the building that when they’d attempt to enter (if they really, truly, had the balls to come back), their bodies would be flung right back onto the sidewalk into the heaping piles of trash on the city side walks. Now, (Y/n) was by no means wealthy, but she made a nice amount of money to be engaging in something she enjoyed so heavily, which is why she was confused where they had gotten the idea she had money to share with the main two people who were the cause of her insecurities. Plus, every extra dollar she had she put right back into the shop. Paying her workers, building maintenance, ingredients. She wasn’t a fan of having too much money, her family had shown her what that could cause (and how easily you could lose it all). 

Yet still sometimes she found herself wishing she could live the lavish lifestyle her parents once did. She mainly dreamed more so of the more engaging parts instead of the status and power that came with it. As she frosted various different cakes with thick buttercream, her mind would wonder to vivid imagery of beautiful hotel rooms, with breath taking views. Michelin five star meals, coated in delicious cream sauces. Endless adventure waiting to be discovered.

And yet here she was, sitting at a table as she stuffed her face with a raspberry marzipan cupcake. It was a Wednesday, first one of the month and as per usual, her and Twyla were set together, sampling cakes, chocolates, and other treats for the upcoming days. Wednesday had been the official day  they had chosen due to the slowed flow of people that would come in. (Y/n) liked to have a different theme each day of the week. The customers lived for it and she had massed a group of frequenters who came each day, wondering what the theme would be that day.

“You know boss, I’ve gotta say it. Working here and sampling all these cakes with you is giving me quite the ass!” Twyla said, turning around as she wiggled her ass in the girl’s face for emphasis. (Y/n) giggled, rolling her eyes as she swatted at the girl, missing as she jumped away from her last minute. “Hey! You gotta take me out to dinner first for that.”

“Just because we’re sampling cakes doesn’t mean that the store is closed! Anyone could walk in at any moment and would you really want that to be their first experience here?” she asked, eyes scanning the silver platter in front of them. She decided on the new dessert flavored chocolates she had been working on. Popping it into her mouth, she let out a moan of approval.

“I mean, I dont’ see why not! We’d definitely make a lot more money with a cake like mine!” the blue haired girl said, sitting down as she grabbed a chocolate as well. “Besides, I don’t think those little noises you’re making would help the scene.” she stated, snickering as the girl across from her tensed up.

“It-it’s not like that! The chocolate- it just- I just- ugh!” she stuttered out, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the girl. “If you’re gonna keep being mean we can end this process. Just tell me what you think of the blueberry pie chocolate so I can know if we’re adding it to tomorrow’s spread.”

“Oh come on (Y/n) it’s good! Every first Wednesday we sit here, you overly critique yourself, then me and Tiana end up picking out our favorites for the next day!” Twyla was right, even their patterns for trying new things remained the same. (Y/n) wiped her messy hand on her aprons, sighing as she stood up to go back to her position behind the counter. Her employee followed, grabbing the platter to put back into the kitchen before joining her boss behind the counter.

“You’re right. I swear everyday is beginning to feel the same.” She opened her notepad, beginning to take inventory of the sweets they had in the display counter. “I’m grateful for everything I have, I really am. But sometimes I just wish I could have something, anything….”

“New?” the green eyed girl added, catching the (h/c) haired girl’s attention. She nodded, looking at the girl who had snuck a cookie out of the glass case. “I feel ya, girl. Everyday feels the same. Sometimes even when new people come in, I can already tell how they’re going to be. How they’ll act, what they’ll order, what method of payment they’ll use.” (Y/n) eyed the girl up, raising a brow.

“Are you sure you’re not just using legilimens?” she questioned, watching as the girl shifted on her feet, scratching the back of her neck.

“Okay so maybe I do sometimes. But a lot of the times I don’t! Like the other day this weird guy came in and- woah. (Y/n) I don’t wanna freak you out but I have a feeling those hotties in suits across the street are going to be walking in here soon.” Twyla said, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. The shorter girl followed her friend’s gaze, looking out the glass doors across the street. Three unfamiliar men were crossing over, all in suits that she could only assume cost as much as four months of rent. However, the one in the middle really caught her eye.

Before she knew it, the bell chimed and the three of them made their way in. They looked very out of place in the brightly decorated shop. The one in the middle looked the most important, towering over the other two men. He had dark slicked back hair, an eyebrow piercing, and tattoos that were visible on his neck and hands (which had a few beautiful looking rings on them (none of which were a wedding band…)), yet his hazel eyes held a soft look to them. To his left was a redhead boy, freckles danced all along his face. His eyes were bloodshot from god knows what. He had tattoos as well (not as many as the middle man) and a few unique ear piercings. The guy to the hot tall guy’s right was attractive too but not nearly as serious looking as the other two. In fact, he was humming a song under his breath, a smile causing the tattoo on the right side of his face to crease. 

As she went to open her mouth to greet them, the man in the middle eye’s grew wide, his mouth gaping as he stared at her. He walked closer, examining her face closely which caused her to grow confused.

“I’m...I’m sorry. Do I know you?” she asked.

“(Y/n)?” she gasped at the sound of the familiar voice, her notepad and pen dropping from her hands. She made her way around the counter, staring up at the tall man.

“Neville?!”

NEXT||

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[sword-brainrot]

HOMIE YOU AND YOUR WRITING NEVER FAIL TO LIGHT UP MY LIFEEEEEEEEEE. now since my bday is coming up, may i have some headcanons about how izuminokami, mutsunokami, and uh....(spins wheel) honebami all celebrate their saniwa's/s/o's bday? seperate pls. tHANK YOU

OMG! YOUR BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP?? HAPPY (early) BIRTHDAY!!! These swords will try to make your bday extra special and I will try my best to make the headcanons extra special! I hope your bday is amazing and filled with plenty of love ^^ Just going to let you know now, all the swords have no idea what a birthday is until you explain it to them. They don't have a birthday of their own and their masters didn't celebrate their birthdays by the time they got them as a sword.

Izuminokami, Mutsunokami, and Honebami celebrating S/O birthday (GN!Reader)

♡   As soon as Izuminokami learns about birthdays, he asks you when yours is. He wants to make sure he doesn't forget! He writes it down someplace (and gives it to Horikawa to remind him cough) so he can remind himself every month and plan when it gets close!

♡  Expect a lot of very not subtle questions about your past birthdays and the things you like. Some questions even going as far as; "If you could possibly get a gift from a really handsome sword, what would you want?"

♡  He has... a blather mouth. He has a hard time keeping a secret from you. He is aware of it too! If you start asking him questions in return of why he is asking, he will instantly tense up and become flustered. Constantly tripping over his words in trying to think of an excuse. He may also just run... That is also a big possibility.

♡  The day of your birthday, you will wake up in your bed alone. It happens sometimes in the past if Izuminokami has an early morning mission he has to leave for, but normally he wakes you up to tell you he is leaving and give you a kiss goodbye. It is very unlikely for him to leave before you wake up and without a single word.

♡  Right away you will know something is up.

♡  As you continue you on with your morning routine, you will take yourself to the kitchen to get some food and drink. There are a few swords that normally take turns with kitchen duty so you expect to see one of them (Kasen, Azuki, Chiyoganemaru, Kuwana, Nikkou, or Mitsutada)

♡  However, instead you will see someone entirely different. There, struggling to crack eggs into a bowl without the shells, will be Izuminokami. His hair will be pulled back in a tight ponytail and adorn on him will be a pink apron... A little too small for how tall he is. His face pull of concentration as Horikawa cheers him on and tries to help him.

♡  He almost doesn't notice you until you let out a small snicker at the sight you see. His expression will quickly change from total focus to total surprise. Probably dropping the egg in the process as his face lights up like a Christmas tree.

Izuminokami: H-Hey! You're not suppose to be awake yet!! Horikawa: Well you have messed up quite a bit, Kane-san. I'm not too surprise they are awake by now... Izuminokami: S-Shut it, Kunihiro!

♡  It is very clear that Izuminokami is the one that is mostly helping the cooking progress while Horikawa is the one actually cooking and getting stuff done. They are making (Your favorite breakfast food). From just the look of the kitchen... Izuminokami has messed up. A ton of times.

♡  After the meal is finally done, Izuminokami will bring it out to you and serve it with (your favorite flower) on the side.

♡  The messy apron finally off of him and he sits beside you, giving you a small kiss on the cheek.

♡  "Happy birthday, my beloved."

♡  The rest of the day goes the same as normal (minus the part of everyone wishing you happy birthday and giving you gifts throughout the day when they catch you). The only thing different is that Izuminokami makes sure that today is your special day and you don't have to work. No paperwork for you! It's your day and you deserve to enjoy it!

♡  Izuminokami is around you for most of the day but doesn't want to crowd you because he knows you have a lot of swords lining up to give you gifts.

♡  He doesn't give you a gift. Not until much later.

♡  The sun has already fell and the both of you are getting ready for bed. Once you are climbed into the bed, Izuminokami leaves and comes back with a small box. He sits next to you and tells you to open it.

♡  When you open it up, you will find half a heart. Pulling it out, you will realize that it's a necklace with a blue gem at the top and Kane-san inscribed onto it (because no way is Izuminokami going to fit on there).

♡  As you look over, you will see that Izuminokami pulls out the necklace from under his shirt that has your name and your (favorite color) gem also on it. He had been wearing it the whole day.

♡  "I know it's hard to forget this handsome face but I wanted to give you something where we are always together. No matter how long we are apart. I know I can be dumb and reckless at times, but you keep me grounded and loved. I don't ever want to lose that. I want to spend many more birthdays with you and always keep you close to my heart. Happy birthday, Y/N."

♡  Once Mutsunokami finds out about birthdays and that your birthday was coming up, he starts planning! He wants to make the day super special and gets everyone involved to do that for you.

♡ Mutsunokami has always been the type of person that takes a bunch of photos with the camera you bought for him. He loves it so much. His gun and camera are his babies. So it is no surprise whenever he pulls it out and takes pictures of the two of you. Those are his favorite photos.

♡  Mutsunokami also has a little bit of a loud mouth. He will often let it slip about his plans and isn't good at covering it up. He will let it slip and instantly cover his mouth, letting you know it was something important and you weren't suppose to know yet.

♡  Though most of his plan is secretive! It's just... Not a big surprise that he has something planned for your birthday.

♡  The day starts off normal. You awaken in Mutsunokami's arms as he holds you close to his chest. For once, Mutsunokami isn't still passed out and you have to slither yourself out of his grasp. This morning, he is awake. He is smiling down at you as he whispers a faint "Happy Birthday" and giving your forehead a soft kiss.

♡  Your day starts off normal... Well, until you get to the kitchen and see that the citadel is empty. The both of you don't run into any swords and there is only two plates of hot food that await you both.

♡  Like always, Mutsunokami shovels all the food down in a fast pace like it is nothing big. This time, not waiting for you to finish your meal. Instead he gives you a quick peck on the cheek and tells you that he has to go do something and that he will be back later. Leaving you alone.

♡  The whole citadel is quiet as you finish your meal and take care of the few dishes that accumulated after the two of you ate.

♡  It is only when you leave the kitchen and go to the back do you see it.

♡  In the back are stands everywhere. All the swords that weren't there, now stand before you and in front of the festival they put together for you. All of them popping confetti and Mutsunokami coming out with your favorite type of cake in hand, a few candles on top.

♡  Everyone begins to sing happy birthday and awaits for you to blow out the candles.

♡  The whole citadel came together to make a festival with many games for you and the rest of the swords to enjoy together. Mutsunokami with a camera around his chest, taking pictures of the best moments he can capture.

♡  You spend your birthday playing all the games they put together; Goldfish scooping, Yo-yo fishing, Gun-shooting, Super ball scooping, and many more!

♡  Some stands have masks and others are food that swords made that they remember their master(s) loving.

♡  There is even a big performance at the end with all the Awataguchi swords (minus Onimaru. No way you are getting Onimaru to sing and dance)! The show ends with fireworks and Mutsunokami by your side.

♡  It is when the day calms down and everyone is cleaning up, that Mutsunokami takes you to the side. He helps you up onto the roof where you two can relax and look at the stars. He gently holds your hand as he hands over a decent size box with wrapping.

♡  Inside is a photo album of pictures of all the swords in the citadel when they first arrived, as well as moments of them hanging out with you. There is many pictures of the two of you together.

♡  The very last picture is the two of you kissing with the small caption; "The only person I want to seize the world with."

♡  Under the writing is a necklace with a locket. In the locket is the same picture so you can keep it with you at all times.

♡  "You brought me to life, aruji (master). For that, I will forever be grateful. You have taught me so much about the world and let me see so much. The thing I am most grateful for is being taught how to love. Everyday I learn something new about you and everyday I smile. I want to keep learning about the world and you. So this is my gift to you. A happy birthday now and many more happy birthdays in the future."

♡  Honebami asks many questions when he first learns of birthdays. This boy is very confused by the whole concept. He is willing the learn everything about it, though!

♡  Unlike Mutsunokami and Izuminokami, Honebami is very good at keeping secrets. So It will feel like he has forgotten about your birthday for a while. But he would never. He even wrote it down in his special journal to make sure he always remembers it.

♡  Honebami is actually quite good at planning without you knowing. He will still be around you the normal amount but will somehow be getting stuff done in preparation for your day.

♡  The day of your birthday, you wake up to the smell of fresh food. As you open your eyes, you see none other than Honebami. Normally he is already out of bed and doing the things he need to for the day. Very rarely waiting until you wake up. However, this time is different. Instead he is standing there with a tray in hand and some hot food on top.

♡  "Happy Birthday.."

♡  The second half more quiet as his cheeks start to burn and he looks down so his bangs hides his face from you.

♡  You enjoy your meal in bed with Honebami by your side, making sure he is taking care of you so you don't have to lift a finger.

♡  After you finish your meal, he takes the tray away to go clean. It is then when his brothers come in, wishing you a happy birthday. The little ones jumping on you and giving you hugs. They all give you cards and one big gift.

♡  In the big gift is a (favorite color) saddle!

♡  Once Honebami returns, you all go out into the barn to see an Anglo-Arabian horse. They all chipped in money to get you your very own horse to name. It is yours so they will never take it out to battle and you can spend time with them whenever you want. The little swords are all hopping around in excitement when they show you their big present to you.

♡  The rest of the day is pretty quiet. Some happy birthdays here and there, some cards and presents. Honebami steals you away around midday from everyone and offers to teach you horseback riding. If you already know, he offers for the both of you to go riding together.

♡  Honebami isn't the best at horseback riding. He is pretty fast on his own but he does know how to ride!

♡  If you are too scared to ride by yourself, he will ride on your horse with you. The stroll in the forest is just filled with you and him. It is mostly silent besides the birds chirping and the horse's soft sounds.

♡  He will ride out to an opening, where the pond is crystal blue, to rest. As the two sit by the shore, he will pull out a journal just for you. It will be a brown journal.

♡  Inside will be a letter to you every day he has known you. In it will be him describing everything he loves about you. Your eyes, your hair, the way you smile, the way you look when you first awake, the soft hugs you give that make him feel so secure, your voice, your kindness, the moment he realized he fell in love with you and knew you'd be the only one for him.

♡  It's everything he could never say in words.

♡  The very last page was written just the night before. His hand now entwined with yours as you read.

♡  "You are probably very well aware of how it's hard for me to expression feelings and emotions to you verbally. Yet you still love me even though I struggle in showing you in return how much I love you. I cherish that so much about you. This journal is something I have been working on for a long while. Anytime you went to sleep, I would say up and write. This is everything I have trouble saying to you. These are my feelings written down for you to read anytime you may doubt my devotion to you. You mean the world to me so... All I ask of you is to look at me one more time in this moment."

♡  As your head turns to him, you will be greeted with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes. "I love you, Y/N."

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 25: Silver Lining

Just another day, like any other. Esredes was on his walk to work, and in a particular mood. His mind was wandering once more as he passed the Vault, to fantasies that faded far beyond reality. Imagine if the Warrior hadn't interfered until Nidhogg reared his ugly head. Imagine if Ysayle had killed the Archbishop, before he could take on his own transformation, and the two of them had dealt with Nidhogg. Esredes hadn't trusted Ishgard's people enough, perhaps even less than Ysayle herself. He was fully mentally prepared for having to subjugate Ishgard to get it to listen to them. But perhaps, as things had turned out, not nearly as many would have needed subjugation. Perhaps he wouldn't need to help manage a fragile, in chaos city-state that had been taken over, especially when so many of his own had nothing even close to management skills, perhaps a proper parley would've been possible. And yet, Esredes pulled himself back to reality and reminded himself, that was never quite the case. Peace had been agreed to, and that was it. Himself and all of his were only here on Ishgard's terms or else, and the rest simply had to be dealt with. Still he went through his days in anticipation of being fired for shining progressives who repeated his ideologies on Ishgard's side, or of his house burning down when he got home. Ah, what would life have been like if he wasn't a failure who couldn't match up to idiotic children with goddess powers? It was a question he asked himself here and there, swirling around with all the others, and in his head, timelines began to split off, mirrors into other worlds for him to glance into. In one, he saw himself back with his family in Thanalan. He lived under a new identity and kept quiet and to himself, always afraid of the Ishgardian government finding him out. He worked a simple job that had him feeling nothing, and though he hoped to earn his parents' forgiveness through it, things didn't really change. Esredes looked away from the mirror and towards the approaching door to his office, and opened it and went inside. He greeted the receptionist as always, then greeted Heilyn and Ferrant, quipped with Heilyn about the fact he would never brush his damn hair properly and it looked like ass or something stupid like that. Work went steady today- Esredes cozied himself up with a cup of white tea and busied himself writing some in depth notes on Dragon Blood observations to use as a reference. With how many people he had encountered here and there who would do any amount of dubious things to obtain such information, the casual scrawl on the paper gave no indication of awareness of this. Just another day, just another paper amongst many, cloaked in the tranquility of absurdity. Another mirror opened in Esredes' head as he worked. In this one, Esredes had gone through with one of his fleeting ideas and fled to the Far East when Ishgard rejoined the Alliance, and oh my, was he lost. Completely out of his depth, he had to fight off multiple people trying to mug him in Kugane until someone watched his latest skirmish and approached him. "You're good with a sword," the man said as Esredes shrunk back and kept his hand wrapped around its handle. "How would you like an opportunity to put it to the test?" And so Esredes watched himself hesitantly agree after sixty and a half questions to work for a Kugane lord as a bodyguard. It was a place to stay and decent pay, to stand around and observe everyone like a hawk. He got to know some people around the home and the streets of Kugane who looked upon him with respect, yet caught himself glancing over the sea even on a good day and remembering everything he left completely behind. Esredes got up to refill his tea, and the mirror closed. Soon after, Heilyn called him over to the office across the hall, and surprised him with a sweater- knit entirely by him in that periwinkle blue reminiscent of Shiva. So that he had more than one sweater, Heilyn said. Esredes smiled and thanked the man back, giving him a soft hug of gratitude. Ferrant was also his usual cheerful self today, asking after if Esredes was feeling all right and letting him know he appreciated him. All very routine, yet he never tired of it. At lunch hour, he had an appointment of the strangest sort, so he retrieved his coat and exited the building and made his way down to the Firmament. Esredes was in a little bit of hot water recently, having chased down a double agent to his people and getting in trouble after he was arrested for the act of vigilantism- as if that was the worst thing he had done while back in the city. And yet the head Inquisitor on the chase wrote to him and invited him out to lunch with his friend who also got involved with the chase. To know them both as a person, she claimed. He was completely lost as to the motivation, but Esredes could tell she was an Inquisitor who had an actual soul, a normal person's thought process. So he accepted and went on a picnic. She served arancini, an imitation recipe from the Far East. Elouan took most of the conversation as Esredes anticipated, and he didn't have to do much work as he listened to her and her bodyguard talk about how much they want to visit the Far East, and Elouan filled them in on his own travels. What a nice and unexpected little bubble in the veil of absurdity. Another mirror manifested during the picnic, and Esredes saw himself with his knees curled up, sitting on the ground in a pathetically tiny cell, and from the expression on his face alone, clearly having lost his mind. He flinched and ignored the mirror after his initial glance, focusing his attention on Elouan's babbling exclusively. When everything wrapped up and he returned for the second half of work, Esredes made a few discreet calls in his office to the network about arrangements for later. A little outing with an actually human Inquisitor was nice, but the man knew what he was, and there was always work to do. He took a break in the middle to move over to the Blue Room for an appointment. Clover's ward Teagan had begun seeing him in the past couple months, a woman rescued from life in a fighting ring in Ul'dah who was still perpetually trying to learn and adjust to life beyond. They always had good discussions, even after he put her to looking into the water. This time, to teach her about Ishgardian culture, he had ended up going into his own story up until everything fell. "How did you do it? Turn it around, I mean? It must have been hard, pulling yourself out of that... how did you manage?" She asked him after that. Esredes had to pause a moment to think about his answer. "I had to take it a day at a time. The other members of the camp were not unsupportive. They were concerned, they wish they knew what to say or do, but I was completely unreachable. So, for one thing, I'm someone who doesn't believe in meeting your death unless you have to. It's more productive to die so someone else lives than to simply off yourself. So every day, it was get from start to finish. There was a routine. Do your tasks, break for meals, read in your tent, avoid talking to anyone any longer than you had to. Keep doing this, and eventually you would either die, or something would happen that you were waiting for. Just, something to happen. It was all I really had besides keeping in mind my family- what if I missed something happening? Eventually, I realized these people were that, people. Who cared. Who did not want to kill me for being a knight as I thought. And I decided that, while I could've fled to Thanalan and tried to live as a normal person, I wanted to stay and make a difference, even a small one. Help people in my situation to be saved and survive, not perish to Ishgard, even if there was no chance of making a bigger difference by that point. And when Ysayle entered the picture, that changed everything, and the rest is history." "I think I can understand that... I, for one, am glad the sun continued to rise for you...that you were able to find reasons to keep going, ways to help people." She gave a small smile. "I bet you've made plenty of differences with all the folks you've helped along your journey. Cause it's not just the big ones that matter, yeah?""Well, had I not been concerned about the small child who was alone in the woods, we wouldn't be here, so yes. And that's what I enjoy about doing this on the side nowadays- the pleasure of seeing it affect individual people in real time. The way I ended up discussing it with another client, is you have to figure out the way to get out of the room. You're in a room, and you can get out and see what's beyond it, but you're just not ready to yet, you find yourself unable. Once you can manage to get out of the room and see what's beyond it, everything becomes a little easier." Teagan tilted her head at this. "A... room? So... you finding the drive to help others helped you open your 'room'?" "It helped me get out of it, yes. I realized I still had something to do and people cared. People really helped a lot, even though I was pushing them away. Just knowing they wanted me to feel better and believed in me as a person.... after everything else fell through, it was all I had." She nodded and smiled a little. "I'm glad you were able to find the door, and that you had people there to help you find the knob." She paused for a brief moment. "... Thank you for sharing your story with me, Esredes. It's been really eye-opening." And so the session concluded, and soon Esredes was back out into the world. First half of the day was over, and then it was time for the second. There was not a formal meeting happening with his people tonight, but instead a get together of sorts at Vette's more recently acquired mansion she had made into a space for all of them to convene safely. Esredes went to and from everybody, making sure everyone was doing well, holding conversations and watching everyone enjoy themselves with a faint smile on his face. He stepped into the bathroom at one point to do his business, and washed his hands after. He was confused why there was a second bathroom mirror for a moment until it began to show him another reality. Esredes stepped back from the sink and put a hand against the wall to his left, the other going over his heart. Reflected back at him in the mirror was a collection of all the people he knew and loved close together, with himself standing further away on the platform and forced to stare at them. A mass public execution. Esredes rushed out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut, pressing his entire body against the door and breathing in and out, in and out. It's not real. It's not real. "Esredes?" Came a gentle voice, as Vette approached the man. She had most definitely felt the spike in distress from the aetherial bond they shared. She asked about how he was doing and put a soft hand to his cheek. "I'm all right, really." Esredes said. "I just had... an unexpected wave of fear come over me." Vette was always in tune with how he felt. She helped him calm down the rest of the way, and then lead him back to the gathering. The anxiety soon faded, and replaced by it, a warm feeling heated the blood inside him. For the rest of the evening, Esredes continued to engage with his family, waves of laughter and elation surging and falling in with the tide. He only hoped that the droplets of gratitude leaking from his fingertips and voice washed over everyone attending like a cool rain on a summer's day, for as he closed his eyes and let each droplet of noise from their voices and words hit him, everything stood right into place where it belonged.

--- @thecalmnessandthestorms / @heartofthefury Heilyn, Ferrant, Sartorius (unnamed mention) @eternal-finis Lieuvanne (unnamed mention) @shieldbcund Elouan @punches-and-cream-puffs Teagan @syerraffxiv Vette

[jadethest0ne]

1, 28, 33

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!) 

So, when rating other media I tend to rate it differently based on scales of “is it good” vs “do I like/enjoy it.” For me personally, I greatly enjoy my own writing. I tend to write for myself about the things I like, and I basically write the kind of story that I’d want to read. As for actual quality, though I think I’m a pretty decent writer, I’d still have to say that I’m still learning and maybe not everyone is as into my writing and it’s certainly not as good as other pieces of media or fics that fall into both the “good” and “I like it” categories. So I guess, averaging out the two categories I’d give myself a solid 4.

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing? 

If I’m being honest, probably not as great as I should. I am trying to work on being better about taking criticism though. It’s a bit of a struggle, since it kind of hurts when someone criticizes your work, even if it’s well-meaning. But I do tell myself, that most folks are just trying to help (and in most cases, they are).

I’m usually better about it if I ask for the criticism. For instance, if I join some sort of contest, or ask a friend/beta-reader to give feedback - I asked for that criticism, so I’m much better about taking it and listening to what folks have to say.

I tend to dislike getting criticized unprompted, however. Again, that can depend on the situation. For example, if someone lists things they like along with what they dislike, or if after leaving a basic comment they leave a quick note of “by the way you have a typo here”, then it’s okay. But if someone is just criticizing my stuff out of the blue without any other feedback or prompting, I find that kind of rude. Also, if someone leaves feedback that basically sums up to “I don’t like [thing that is basically the whole point of said fic] you need to change it”, I find that unhelpful since it would require me to redo the entire thing, and I’m not going to put that amount of time and effort into doing so just because one person doesn’t like it.

I’ve had that last one happen to me a few times before, and often I try to check myself to see “do I dislike this comment because it’s hard for me to take criticism?” or “is this comment actually not helpful or productive to my writing?” I usually figure this out by giving myself a few days to calm down/think it over, and trying to see if there’s anything I can do in the story that would improve it moving forward. If the end result would add on several unnecessary chapters/pages or upend the plot or character arcs, then I usually ignore the “advice”. If it results in adding a little moment here or there, or changing up some wording to better present a character or theme, then I take the advice. Overall, even though it hurts to take criticism for me, looking at the feedback from that lens has helped a lot, both with my emotions and with my writing abilities.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I guess 2 main things:

One, is that it takes a lot of time and effort - both physical and mental effort. Sometimes my hands/wrists/arms hurt. Sometimes I gotta take breaks. It’s probably why I dislike it so much when someone is like “you should write/draw this”. Well, unless you wanna pay me for it, I’ve got a bunch of other personal projects and things that I want to do that take priority to any “requests” or “suggestions” out there. And I have a lot of personal projects in mind.

Two, is that it legitimately means the world to me when someone takes the time to reblog, comment, and interact with me or my work. I got an ask earlier about what my favorite comment/feedback was, and honestly there are so many to count, I just love all of them, and the support that everyone has given me is so important and I love you all!

[alphasmoonlit-selfships]

🍃 🐚 ⭐️

Hello mystery anon! Thank you so much for the ask! I forgot as I was writing that that were asks meant to be answered by me for my F/o, but considering my recent f/o takeover by my dearest Atsushi, he answered a few of the asks too! UwU;

"It is a shared blog between us, Darling," Atsushi commented lightly, resting his chin a top the petite brunette, "I'm sure they won't mind at all!" 🥰

"Well let's just jump right into it, shall we?"

🍃:  Do you live together? If not, would you like to? How would you or how do you decorate?

Atsushi: We do live together actually! You can know more about that here in this ask!

Though the second question is new to answer; it was a slow and gradual process to decorate our place after it was entirely cleaned and ready to inhabit. We started with basic things we could afford, the Agency definitely helping us to get a few other things to fill in the space and make it feel more homey. Which we were grateful towards nonetheless!

Even so, I think the decorator between us is Dany, she usually suggests colors and what might fit well with the setting of a certain room in our condo. As well as how the layout should be. Of course, I pitch in my own suggestions that she usually considers and takes full validation of 😄 it definitely helps her figure things out as she often hits a dead end and is left a bit irked when she runs out of ideas 👀

We often buy things at random that might make the condo more homey, be it buying some items for the living room or dining, some plants to make the place more lively, either inside or on the balcony space, or paintings and frames. Which might I add, we have hung some pieces we worked on together!

It was some quality time building when we painted and made a messy, yet nice piece done! I may not be much of an artist, but Dany does know how to boost someone’s confidence when it comes to the subject U///w///U she is very sweet, comforting and patient.

But yeah! We are a bit of a mix of traditional, minimalist, and modern through the home!

🐚:  Which one of you brings the most physical or emotional energy to the relationship? Are there ever times where it’s overwhelming to the other, or are you pretty evenly matched?

Atsushi: I think Dany and I have shared a decent amount of offering each other that physical and emotional and mental energy to our relationship. It varies a lot with what we experience individually, but overall it is evenly match. We have a deep understanding of one another and share a few similarities when it comes to how we think and want to act on our emotions and affections.

I think Dany gives more of the physical energy as she isn’t one to always put things into words as it sounds in her mind. Her affection is warm, sweet, comforting, it’s soothing and brings out any tension I feel personally after a bad day. She often sings and hums to offer a bit of vocal response, or asks questions for me that give me the door to open if I want to talk about something. She doesn't press instantly and allows space for me to figure out what I would like to say.

I do worry that sometimes I may be a bit overwhelming for her; she is rather emphatic and has the tendency to take other’s emotions that often do drain her later on. It..often leads her to be apathetic when she feels her own bad days.

Which leads to the opposite of me, she is more withdrawn from speaking about her struggles and worries. Always giving a lot of herself to me or others that she forgets about herself. That’s where I have slowly began to draw her out of that mindset, I can understand where she comes from in that regard and offer what she usually craves the most; To be listened without being interrupted or bringing up an assumption she hasn’t stated. She use to apologize,,, frequently for how she just kept rambling about some feelings and teared up out of emotion. She still does occasionally, but not as often as before.

We have been through a lot, uncovering old wounds and healing together. Giving each other that reassurance and validation we both crave more than anything. I think that’s a great positive to our relationship, is how well we share a wavelength in our emotions and how we naturally crave physical bliss from each other. It’s a steady and comforting recovery to just cuddle in bed together after a draining day, for either or both of us.

On a positive note, we are very affectionate and sweet together, so a lot of other people tend to say. Sometimes saying how we are wholesome, or adorable together. It is nice and validating to hear. I tend to be more loving in public when given the chance, Dany isn't much into PDA as she doesn't like so many eyes on her. But has gradually learned to not care too much on it. She has gotten more confident in that regard 🥰 especially with surprise kisses U///w///U

I think the first time she ever kisses me a bit...passionately in public was when someone was apparently flirting with me? I didn't have a clue about it if I have to be honest 😅 and I do think her wolf ability may have given her that forward reaction to kiss me. Surprised I was, but not at all opposed to it~ it was so cute to see slowly realize what she did later and how she practically combusted into embarrassment for her forward action. She definitely needed some reassurance and words of encouragement from me 🥰🥰🥰

Needless to say, she is adorable and I love my darling, tiny lover UwU <3

⭐️: Does your FO have any habits that you only noticed after spending a significant amount of time with them? Do they notice any of yours?

Habits eh? Hmm, Atsushi has some peculiar ones that are caused by his tiger ability... I mean so do I, but I'm normally like that since I was a child. 😅 He is like a cat sometimes and it is honestly endearing to witness and very comforting 🥰 he purrs when we cuddle and has these big eyes sometimes when I give him praise and kisses UwU. Sometimes dilated during more... affectionate times~

He also still bares some habits that stem from his time at the orphanage that I never noticed until we started living together. Such as his early sleep and morning wake up schedule. I’m not much of a morning person in the slightest 😅 I can be very irked and tense and need at least an hour to mentally wake myself up as I move about the place. I especially need coffee and some sort of protein with my food to wake me up.

I’m not very lively and may look irritated to a fault 😔 the amount of times I worried mi Tigre at the start because he thought he did something wrong ;;;w;;; of course with time he understood and got use to it and definitely gave me the space to compose myself. He definitely makes it easier to wake up with a few affectionate kisses and preparing breakfast ;;;w;;; I, of course, in the rare times do the same for him, I just have to be up prior to his now 6am wake up 😮‍💨

Hmm.. he also has his bad days, usually when a memory of his past flickers in his mind he kind of shuts down and it leads to nightmares occasionally. They were more frequent earlier on when we moved in together in the dorms and the first few weeks in our new home and have gradually slowed down. But sometimes I would wake in the middle of the night to him gone, immediately picking him out cowering away in a closet. Huddled in a ball and attempting to stifle his tears when I find him..

I was concerned, but not overly as before when he first did this prior to our relationship. Instead I joined him and offered him my comfort to ground him back from his terror and memory. Usually wordless, gentle comfort and letting him cry out all the emotions that twist and pained his heart. Once he calmed a bit, I offered any words of validation and usually pitch the question if he would like to talk about it. Sometimes yes, sometimes no, either or I don’t let up holding him and keeping him steady to present time.

It’s definitely helped a lot, mi pobre tigre… he feels bad sometimes for the disrupt sleep or mental toll it brings me. But I always remind him, gently but stern, that in those moments he is the one that matters and I am not about to abandon him in his time of need.

Maybe it’s because I understand him deeply in that sense, while our lives may not have been the same, we understand the toll our traumatic past takes on us, individually.

Atsushi has definitely been there for me a lot of the time, I have a lot of self doubt and need plenty of reassurance. I’m..overly sensitive too so I don’t like arguing or any rise in anger, it’s hard for me to…really stand up for myself in that regard; hee..to literally not cry because I am trying to make a point…

Ah sorry, about the small downed turn this took; I don’t normally talk about these things. Am trying to get better by talking more about it, especially with mi Tigre who honestly listens when so many … often don’t.

Nonetheless, some more positive, funny/cute habits from the last; Atsushi tends to ramble on about new things he learns and enjoys telling me more about it. I remember he spoke for a whole hour about chameleons, I drew him some cute doodles as he told me more about them. He keeps the image somewhere in his phone. He also rubs his neck or cups his chin a lot when confused, nervous or in deep thought.

He on the other hand has noticed how often I tend to sit on my legs, that I don’t have a single perfect posture no matter where I sit. Could be the most comforting chair or very stiff, hard ones and I still keep my legs up with me. I just can't for the life of me sit still at all, it'd last like less than 5 minutes at most 😅 but he finds it adorable and cute how often I can just curl myself into what looks like an awkward position to others but for me is rather comfy and just how I prefer to sit.

His lap is the most comforting place to sit tho 👀👀

Atsushi: You also have the bad habit of biting your lips, Darling 👀

👀...Noooo... okay yes I do, a lot, like a lot more as of recent,,, And I crack my fingers a lot too...and tap my feet, more so in public out of nervous jitters I think...

Well, that's enough of that~ we greatly appreciate the emoji asks and honestly love doing these kinds of asks 🥺 it gives me so much more of a chance to explore the dynamic and relationship between mi Tigre and I ❤️😍🥰 Leaves me warm and fussy and soft. A melting puddle of silly and foolish love U///w///U...

Please by all mean's don't be shy to send asks or talk with me! I do my best to respond when I can and want to give all my love and support to every self shipper! Till the next asks! Take care!

[pocketmouse18]

Thank you so much to @herosofmarvelanddc @cloudypaws and @mtab2260 for the tag! This was so much fun to think about :)

(fair warning, I wrote too much for many of these...)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 2 :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

450,577 if I did my math right!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Officially? Just 1 - Agents of Shield (two, I guess, if you count MCU as separate, since I use characters from both...). Off the record, many more than that! I have lots of bits and bobs from other fandoms that I tinkered with when I was younger, still getting the hang of writing, not brave enough to post things, etc. etc. Some of those include X-Men, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, the Fosters, Star Wars, the Hunger Games, the 39 Clues, and a few others I can’t remember. None of those will likely see the light of day, mostly because they’re unfinished, not very good, and just not reflective of who I am as a writer anymore, but they were fun to play around with at the time :)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I just have the two, but The Important Thing is to Try wins, hands down, with 1227. Shoulder to Shoulder has 95, though, which I’m also very proud of! Important Thing has a definite advantage, being as long as it is, so I don’t know if that’s really a fair comparison between them.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! Or at least, I always try to! I just can’t believe someone would be kind enough to take the time to tell me what they thought of my story, so I always want to take the time to thank them and return the favor :) Plus, as I’ve learned, it’s a fantastic way to get to know some really lovely people!

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Well... I technically only have one story that has an ending, at least on Ao3, and it’s not an especially angsty one, since it ends in Phil and Melinda getting married :) I have some angsty chapter endings in Important Thing, if that counts? I’m not even sure if any of my unpublished fiddlings have angsty endings (most don’t have endings at all lol)... I don’t mind writing angst, but I don’t know if I’m capable of making something without a happy (or at least hopeful) ending.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've ever written?

Not really, unless you count AoS/MCU crossovers (which I guess technically count, but also I would argue it’s not a true crossover since (and I will die on this hill) AoS is a part of MCU canon). When I was younger I was a fan of playing around with crossover AUs more so than the actual characters crossing paths (so like, what if these characters from XYZ were demigods or went to Hogwarts or what have you, and not so much what would happen if the X-Men met Luke, Leia, and Han on one of their space adventures). I started writing a crossover between AoS and the Marvel Rising cartoon once (which again, not sure if that’s a true crossover, since Daisy was in Marvel Rising, but I digress), where Coulson tasks Daisy to work with Kate Bishop and Rayshaun Lucas to collect and train a team of young Inhumans, starting with Kamala Khan, but I ran out of steam pretty quickly when it got too plot heavy.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think so. I’ve had some people not understand some choices that I made, but they asked it in a way that I thought was perfectly nice, and I was happy to talk about it with them. Sometimes people get “mad” at me when I cause pain and suffering, but I know that’s all in good fun :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, not for me. I don’t read it or write it, personally. Writing a kiss is hard enough!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge! Important Thing is probably too long and unwieldy to ever steal :P

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked me on FFN if they could translate Important Thing to Russian, which was basically the coolest thing I’ve ever been asked!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

A fic, no. I’d love to try sometime! I had a friend in college who I co-wrote with A LOT, though, so I know I enjoy that process, given the right partner. We wrote several short plays together (ranging from ~15-50 minutes in length, including one that we wrote in a single afternoon!), selected scenes from a larger (unfinished) play inspired by historical letters we found in an archive that were sent between a man from Massachusetts serving in the American Civil War, his wife, and his 8-year-old son, and several scripts for TV sitcoms (2 pilots for 2 different shows, plus additional eps for those pilots, and a couple of later eps for a different show that a classmate of ours wrote the pilot for - we were trying to practice what it would be like to be on a staff with a showrunner haha). The sitcom scripts in particular I’m very proud of, and could talk somebody’s ear off about if asked (one’s about ghost hunters and one’s about a DnD party!), but maybe that’s better saved for another post ;)

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

That’s a very hard question for me! Mostly because shipping stuff is usually one of the last things to register for me when I’m thinking about shows/books/movies I like haha... I’m always a sucker for Philinda, and younger me was rather taken with Percabeth, I suppose.

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Hmm, several, really. The aforementioned AoS/Marvel Rising crossover I think could be really cool if I got it to work, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. I also have a WIP that’s like an angstier version of a Hallmark Christmas movie AU where Daisy has to come home to her small town right before Christmas and figure out what she wants out of life, but I’m a little stalled out on that one, mostly because I’m waffling on who the charming love interest should be and because I don’t have enough of a plot, just lots of feelings about coming back home to a place you thought you had left behind lol.

I’d put Important Thing and it’s (as of yet) untitled sequel on here as things I want to finish, but I’m much more determined to see those through, so I don’t think they qualify for the “never will actually write” part of this question :)

15. What are your writing strengths?

I don’t know if other people agree with this, but I think I write pretty decent dialogue. My “training” (if you can call it that) is in, as you might have figured out by now, script and screenplay writing (those were the only creative writing classes I took in college). So having a sense of the rhythm a conversation needs to have and how to write dialogue that sounds mostly like how people really talk (but shined and tightened up enough so that it’s not actually like verbatim dialogue, which is far less interesting to read!) is something that I feel like comes pretty easily. I also think I do okay with similes and metaphors - my brain tends to work in that way. It’s easier for me to think of stuff (feelings, especially) in terms of comparing it to more familiar things than to just think of the thing directly, if that makes sense?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

If I was being honest, this would be a very long section, but I know it’s not fun to read a big ol’ paragraph of someone self-criticizing, so I’ll keep it to one or two items ;) A big one for me is pacing, I think. I tend to write more than I need to and to over-explain things, so my chapters get very long and sometimes don’t really go anywhere? Until all of the sudden, they DO, because things need to HAPPEN! I’m a pretty rigorous self-editor, but I do have a really hard time cutting out sections (unless they’re really just not working), so even if it would help the pacing to leave out this conversation between character A and character B, I often can’t make myself cut it. I also think I struggle sometimes with balancing my ‘showing’ and my ‘telling,’ especially in the sense of me over-explaining certain things - like when it comes to feelings/facial expressions/etc, for example. I compensate for that in Important Thing by making it a part of a few people’s POV, but it’s not really a good habit to have in general. Also spelling! I’m really bad at spelling and run my stuff through robust spellchecks and text-to-speech before I post anything to make up for it :)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I do it with some regularity, although I always get nervous about doing it wrong! It’s hard to avoid in AoS, where characters are spies and should (in theory, at least) have a working knowledge of multiple languages (”We’re spies, I thought we all learned languages?!”). Even in an AU, where characters aren’t spies, I like to try and pay homage to that, plus pay homage to certain characters’ native languages or just general multilingualism. I’ve spent a fair amount of time around people who speak more than one language, so I feel like it’s a natural part of groups of people to have more than one language spoken. I have a pretty good handle on written Spanish, a patchy idea of French, plus I know some Russian phrases from my dad and some German words from my grandfather, but I do rely on internet translation a lot. I usually run stuff through google, then run it backwards to see just how far off the initial translation was, then consult some actual, like, language learning sites to see if there’s particular idioms or common phrases that use different words than what google will give me, then run those words through backwards in the place of the original words to see if I can massage the whole thing to sound reasonably competent. Languages like Russian or Mandarin (which have their own alphabets/characters) are the hardest, since I have to also try and do a transliteration. I always try to put an apology/disclaimer in the notes any time I write in a language that isn’t English, because I’m sure I make lots of mistakes.

Also, I tend not to italicize words that are in other languages, because it looks weird on the page to me to set the other language apart like that (and because I italicize mainly for internal thoughts or emphasis, and usually what’s being said in another language isn’t internal or being emphasized). I put a rough translation at the end so we don’t have to pause the story for a parenthetical translation, but because the translation’s not right there, I try to either put in enough context clues that a person can still understand what’s going on, or I make sure that what’s written in another language isn’t critical to the overall understanding of the scene.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Officially, it’s AoS, since that’s the only fandom I’ve published for. I think the first true fandom I wrote fic for was probably either Harry Potter (entirely populated with OCs lol, I just liked using the world/setting), Percy Jackson (a mix of OCs and canon characters), or X-Men (all canon characters). I was a bit of a latecomer to fanfiction, though, like, I wrote a ton as a kid, but mostly original stuff, because I didn’t know that fanfiction in its current form was even allowed until I was in high school lol.

Oh! I almost forgot one! I’m not sure if this really counts as a fandom, but it’s definitely the earliest version of fanfic I wrote haha... I was like 12 and I wrote more than one story of an OC joining Robin Hood’s band of Merry Men, and then also one of that same OC becoming a knight of the Round Table, so like... do what you will with that information haha.

19. What's you're favorite fic you've written?

I can’t choose between my two darlings :( I mean, okay, technically it’s probably Important Thing. That story’s my baby. It’s huge and I’ve been working on it for almost 2 years, and I’ve poured a lot of my heart and soul into it. I’ve fallen in love with the universe I built in it, so much so that I wrote an entire prequel and have very concrete plans for a lengthy sequel. But I can’t not crow about Shoulder to Shoulder (the aforementioned prequel!), too... I’m just really proud of that one - it has a lot of firsts for me. First completed story. First romance-focused story. First foray into expanding the Important Thing universe. But yes, if I have to choose, then Important Thing wins. That’s a story that I started writing exclusively for myself - to give myself characters I could relate to and to explore a style of AoS fic that I loved reading - and that’s a story I will always and forever be proud of.

I think most people have probably answered this tag game at this point, so I don’t want to accidentally retag anyone! If you haven’t yet, and would like to join in, please do! This is your invitation <3

[death-himself]

Love is Dead—Chapter 4

Summary: Janus attempts to get Patton's attention, but in the process grabs the attention of a certain teenager

Word Count: 1,154

Warnings: Blood, Mention of murder, Hanahaki disease

previous next (AO3 Link)

Ugh. Love. It was a strange thing to feel after so long of not experiencing it. He hadn’t loved someone since he was alive, and he’s been dead for a while. Still though, his heart longed to be with Patton, to spend each passing moment with him. As far as he was aware he was chained to his house, unable to leave. Otherwise he probably would’ve followed Patton to college.

He needed to get his attention in some way. Which meant he had to make him realize there was a ghost in the house. Which was not too far from what he had been trying to do from the start, except instead of striking terror into the human’s heart to get him to leave, he would have to get him to notice his presence without being scared.

While having an air of familiarity, this still felt completely new to the spirit.

Janus ran through his list of less violent or terrifying options, admittedly coming up with fairly few; he had found out early on in his hauntings that those options often didn’t work nearly as well as his more deranged ideas. But, he came up with a decent amount.

As Patton was taking his shower, Janus floated into the room, keeping his eyes trained on the fogged up mirror (he was a gentleman, remember?) as he thought of what to write. So many options, and he hadn’t flirted in so long.

He racked his brain for something creative or smooth, but Patton had already stopped singing; he was going to get out soon. Janus panicked, giving up and writing a simple “hello” with a small heart before flying out, face burning red. He waited outside of the bathroom, listening as Patton stepped out of the shower, hearing his pause as he read the message.

On the other side of the door, Patton giggled. “Very funny Virgil.” What the hell. What did that even mean? Patton changed into his new pair of clothes and came out, knocking on Virgil’s door as he went. “So we’re back to the whole “ghost following you” joke? It’s been four years, Vee!”

“What?” Virgil’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

“Y’know, when you told me there was a ghost following the two of us around the house?”

“Okay well first off, you can’t tell me there wasn’t a ghost back then, second, I didn’t do anything.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Patton said in a teasing tone, giggling and walking back to his room.

Okay, so Janus had just accidentally copied some kind of inside joke they had. Great. Wonderful. Guess he’d be taking mirror-related ideas off his list. Which meant he now had half of his previous ideas to choose from. He groaned, thinking for a moment. Maybe dreams would work.

He sat at the edge of Patton’s bed as he focused with all his might. Ever since he learned about this ability, he hadn’t been quite fond of it. But he had learned that it tended to elicit some of the most extreme reactions if done properly.

He remembered one of the previous house owners who enjoyed writing a lot of romantic stories. She would often write the hanahaki disease into her stories in some way, shape, or form. For some reason, that was all Janus could think of as he passed dreams into Patton’s mind. And as such, that was what Patton received.

He dreamed of a faceless, figureless man; having never actually seen Janus his mind wasn’t sure what to do with the information the spirit was passing into it. The man stepped up to him, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. He opened his mouth and flowers fell out into Patton’s hands. “Hello Pa—”

And that’s when his alarm went off. Janus scrambled out of his focused state, falling off of and partially through the bed as he tried to get as far away from the noise-maker as possible. Patton groaned, smacking the alarm clock until it turned off and lying there for a moment.

“That was a weird dream.” Patton mumbled sleepily to himself. “The flowers were pretty though.” Janus watched as Patton slowly forced himself up and out of his room, then watched as the door closed, leaving him in the bedroom alone.

“Fuck!” He shouted. Why was that blasted alarm set to go off so early? Who in their right mind took college classes at six AM? What was that stupid, good for nothing, handsome as hell man doing taking classes at six in the fucking morning? If it hadn’t gone off maybe he could have at least told him his name!

Janus took a deep breath, tempted to scream out his frustrations. But no, that would be uncivilized, and Janus was a civilized gentleman.

Instead he slammed his head into Patton’s pillow and screamed into that, the scent of that idiot’s shampoo making him even more frustrated by the second. What else could he try?

Granted, Janus didn’t have many ideas. He sent more dreams, but as it turned out Patton wasn’t one to think too much about what his dreams may mean. He attempted to write a letter, but was unable to focus his power on the pen long enough to write anything past “my dearest Patton” legibly. In one of his most recent attempts, he sent kittens padding at Patton’s window, only to find out Patton was severely allergic.

Which was what led him to this. Patton was off at college, which meant the chances of someone coming into his room were slim. He stared at the blank wall above the bed, his hand over the never-ending spout of blood pouring from his heart.

He had written in his own blood before to scare previous home owners, it wasn’t something new to him. He knew that his blood being more spiritual would mean it would fade away after a few days, unable to stay visible to the living for too long, but a few days was more than enough time.

He couldn’t write a letter to Patton, so this would have to do. He drenched his fingers in his blood, beginning to write. “Dearest Patton—”

The bedroom door swung open and Virgil walked in, headphones on and hoodie up as usual, searching around on Patton’s desk. “Are you serious?” Janus hissed. Virgil grabbed a set of Copic Markers from Patton’s desk with a smirk, turning around to head back to his room.

But then he stopped, eyes trailing up from the bed to look at the bloody words on the wall. Wait, no. He wasn’t looking at the words. The wound in Janus’s heart began to throb, as if the knife that was sunk into it so long ago had stabbed him again with a vengeance.

The face of Patton’s younger brother, the face of a younger form of Janus’s murderer looked directly at him.

Tagging: @rebelrewriter @arodynamic-enby @bullet-tothefeels

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

Writing Tips (Pt. 3): Writing Believable and shippable relationships in literature.

Hello friends! First of all, let me say a HUGE thank you for the support on the Kataang post! I worked really hard on it and it means so much to me all the little notes you give it and reblog it! I know it’s not at a huge number of notes, but I like knowing that people took time to read through the endless rant and reblog it! I’m planning on doing another full analysis on Zutara and why specifically it doesn’t work. I’ll make it respectful though as I know that a lot of Kataang fans are REALLY defensive and anti-zutara. I promise I’m not one of those people, and believe that no matter who you ship, your opinions on fictional characters are your opinions and you are FULLY entitled to ship and like whatever you want (as long as it’s not incest or a huge age gap. PLEASE don’t ship that stuff lol. U nasty mfs know who u are.) Speaking of ships, let’s talk about writing them. Writing ships for movies, books, shows, etc. can be surprisingly hard. Writing characters themselves can be hard enough as it is, but writing a pair of characters that fit together like a puzzle piece can feel impossible. Nevertheless, I’m here to make that process a little bit easier. When I’m trying to set up a relationship that’s going to happen, here are some things that I keep in mind to make sure that I and the audience of my writing  ship the characters I have end up together. 

DISCLAIMER before I get a’rantin: I am by NO means telling you how or what to write and am by NO means a professional writer of any sorts. I’m doing this mostly because I write a lot and speak from my own personal experiences with writing and because these are just the things that I found work best when writing my own stories. I also read and analyze a lot of others work on my own personal time, and these are just the details that I pick up on that I find makes a piece of writing effective. With that in mind, remember that writing is and art form, and the beauty of that is that there’s no one right way to do it. Ever. You can read the same thing as another person and interpret it in a completely different and unique way. 

1. Complementary Characters usually work out best. 

This is more than the classic “opposite’s attract” theory, and characters don’t necessarily have to be opposite to be complementary. Some things to think about when thinking of and writing complementary characters:

-Complementary doesn’t necessarily mean complete opposite in every single way. Often times I find it much more helpful to have characters share a common interest in hobbies, upbringing, childhood trauma (that one’s a bit overdone these days), etc. so that they’re not butting heads all the time. Just like yin and yang, theres a bit of darkness in the light and vice versa. To keep the balance harmonious, you can’t have characters be polar opposites and have no common ground. That leads to what many people consider a toxic ship, and will either lead to an unrealistic balance that inevitably leads your characters to be fighting all the time. 

-Keeping common interests in mind, often times the paces where character’s contrast is in their personalities. (Shy and bold, heart and head, bubbly and brooding, quiet and gregarious, etc.) Different personalities often are able to balance each other out and hold each other accountable for their weaknesses.

-Going off of that, one character’s strength is another’s weakness, and all traits are both. A character’s empathy can lead them to be loved by many, but may cause them to starve themselves and drain their cup so there’s none left to take care of themselves. A character’s logic may lend them top of class or calm in stressful situations, but can lead them to be insensitive to others and even their own emotions. Your characters should balance each other out and work well together, and part of this is helping each other grow from their weakness. 

-This one isn't as important, but what I also find super compelling, especially in film and tv shows is when the authors/writers deliberately choose to give the characters complementary color palettes. (I dove more into this on my Kataang analysis so go read that if you’re super interested.) If the character’s look ascetically pleasing together, it makes shipping them a whole lot easier. Focus on orange and blue, yellow and purple, red and green, and any variation of those colors together. 

2. Buildup

Often times one of the biggest critiques of ships that just don’t work out is that there’s not enough buildup or foundation to have a romantic relationship. It seems obvious, but if you’re going to have them end up together, there’s going to need to be some buildup or else the entire relationship will feel wrong and contrived no matter how pleasant you make it. 

Some tips for increasing and establishing buildup:

-Have your otp spend time together as friends first. I personally find that the healthiest and most successful ships are friends before they’re lovers. This is why Kataang specifically works so well, but Korrasami, Romionie, and Liesel and Rudy from the Book Thief are all good examples. If you observe these ships, all of these characters spend time together as friends first. Korra and Asami were able to bond and become friends over a toxic guy (cough cough MAKO) and eventually developed feelings for one another. Ron and Hermione weren’t romantically interested in other people and were friends until they started seeing other people and found out they liked each other. Liesel and Rudy were best friends before anything else and Liesel didn’t realize her feelings until it was too late. 

-Time together. When your otp spends time together, make sure that whatever time is being spent together is time that they both enjoy. No, the activity itself doesn’t have to be enjoyable to both characters, but the time spent together should be. If the characters really aren’t enjoying the time spent together, then it’s never gonna work out. I’ll use the ship that I’m writing as an example. Currently, I’m in the process of writing a third atlas series and we’ll use my characters Liang and Hana. (Yea I used my own name for one of my characters. I think it suits her bc she’s basically my clone, just, she’s the avatar. I’m going to change both of their names once I do more research and can find culturally and historically accurate names.) Liang REALLY loves pro-bending matches. Hana, not so much. She still goes with him to see matches and attends his matches when she can. On the flip side, Hana really loves going to her favorite tea shop. Liang vastly prefers a strong cup of coffee, but he goes with her anyways. Why would they choose to do something that they don’t necessarily like? Because that’s more quality time spent with each other and doing something for the other person. 

3. Romantic Gestures

Going off of my last point, we have the art of romantic gestures. These can range to things anywhere from a hug, to an elaborate firework display, to a locket with both of their pictures in it. Make sure that the romantic gestures are there! It’s gotta be clear that both characters are thinking about one another and consciously choose to do something for the other person. Here are some fun ways to do it:

-Remembering a gift the other character wanted. This one’s cliche but it works, because often times the best way to show affection is through physical gifts and objects. Think coffee from a favorite shop, handwritten notes, that piece of clothing the other has been eyeing, etc. 

-~symbolism~ *add chime here* By that I mean have an object to symbolize their relationship with, like Korrasami’s iconic hair pin or Liesel’s book that Rudy retrieved for her. This way, the readers not only have a visual representation of their favorite ships, but the object can physically link characters together and make a vague relationship full cannon. (I know for sure that someday when I get a tattoo, I want the hairpin tattooed on my wrist, ankle or side of my body.) 

-PDAs. Works best in film and visual stuff, but still applies for everything. I’m talking cuddles, kisses, falling asleep in each other’s arms, the whole shebang. I mean how much clearer can you make it than a pda?

-Love languages. Each person loves in their own unique way. Have characters figure out and learn each other’s love language. It really shows and adds a whole other layer to the cake. This one can make a ship that feels a little bland have more depth and realism, because in the real world, healthy relationships are formed and aided by learning and applying each other’s love language. 

4. Dialogue. This one can be hard to master, but once you do, it’s a breeze. First off, I recommend getting all your ideas out, and editing. DON’T EDIT AS YOU GO! This is often tedious and super annoying, so get everything out first, and go from there once you have a decent amount to work with. Dialogue is tricky, because dialogue in and of itself is meant to communicate and express feelings. Here are some tips and steps to at least get a start: 

a. Know EXACTLY how your characters feel about one another, and make that evident through communication. It seems obvious (again) but this really helps and I find that putting myself in the character’s shoes for a second and really thinking about it helps to decide exactly what they would say in a given situation, especially if the scene you’re writing involves confrontation about feelings for one another. 

b. Dialogue is more than just talking. Body language, tone, facial expressions, etc. are all part of dialogue too and are SUPER important! In the real world, humans communicate through more than just words, and sometimes a playful grin, grimace, crossed arms, or pout is much more effective than a character outright saying something. 

c. Once you’ve written the dialogue out, be concise and smart about your dialogue and pare it down as much as you can. Often times, adding too much dialogue can make a scene boring and flat. Use your words sparingly! The purpose of writing is to covey a story or message and often times this can be done effectively with less words rather than more. The main point in dialogue itself is to provide necessary context and information. Otherwise, don’t use it.

d. Make sure the conversation is two sided. This (say it with me now) SEEMS OBVIOUS, but make sure that both people are talking/communicating. it’s a conversation, not a speech. (Unless it is a speech or declaration of some sort.)

Before I go: A QUICK (Long) PSA ON TOXIC SHIPS: 

The concept of a toxic ship is very common in a lot of literature. Often times writers choose to include elements that may be toxic to heighten romantic tension in a story. While I do recognize that this sometimes may be a stylistic choice, there are MUCH better and effective ways to create tension that having something be toxic. Toxic relationships in my opinion share one purpose, and that is to establish a relationship’s toxicity and ineffectiveness. I don’t recommend writing these into a story unless it’s an obstacle for your characters to overcome, and having a character forgive the toxic actions of another character and still end up with them isn’t the right move because it completely disregards and diminishes the effects of what happened previously.

One of the best examples I can think of is Reylo from the new sw trilogy. I did touch on this briefly in a couple of my earlier posts (The Effect Of Modern Day SW characters and My Tips for Writing (In General) which I highly suggest you go read bc they both took me a bit of time and state the purpose more in depth) but I think I’ll quick reiterate and say that it wasn’t a good choice on the writer’s part to have some of the dialogue be so intense and vicious and then have them end up together. I still like the idea of Ben Solo and Rey together and ship them together out of cannon, but in cannon, it’s the perfect example of an ineffective ship. There was little to no build up, the dialogue was often spiteful and sharp, and it escalated a bit too quickly. I would’ve liked to see more of Ben Solo (NOT Kylo) and him feeling sorry for and repenting for the bad that he’s done before he and Rey end up together. Yes, we’re all suckers for the enemies to lovers trope, but PLEASE make sure to filter out the toxins before boarding your ships and watching them sail. 

That’s it for now! I hope this helps a little when writing shippable characters! I’m always free to rant to and to critique. I’m going to start posting as much as I can, because these guides help me too! Check out my other ones if you’d like to know tips for writing in general and I made another one on how to write characters.