#i do still blog search sometimes but usually before following or when trying to figure out the context of a post that has really sus

[artfromsaturn]

Collection of Free Art Tutorials

I don't usually make text post on this blog, but a nice artist I know was asking for tutorials a while back and I forgot to send some to them while in school. So here's a post on it since it's easiest to grab and go this way. :)

This list focuses on the basics. I'm focusing on the foundations of art, so medium is generally irrelevant and you can use physical or digital with these. You'll have to google more specific tutorials on things like character design and such.

One of the biggest pieces of advice I can give to you is strangely, introduce things to yourself one at a time. In art class, we took whole topics week by week. For high school, we did a few exercises then spent a week drawing/painting and doing your piece(s). For basic art 1 & 2 in college, we did 1-2 exercises and then did 1-2 drawings, followed by HW (which we turned in next week) and sketchbook practice (which she'd check at midpoints). For basic art lessons with a tutor, we did practice then our own art. You can see the pattern here - the point is don't be distressed if you don't get everything at once, or the lesson in 2 weeks, or the lesson in 3 years - we practice and do a lot over time, and you'll pick up on things you need to improve naturally and through help with others. Take time to be proud of your art in mini steps too, even if it's not the best! You tried and attempting to climb an obstacle over and over again before finally leapfrogging it is still progress to it.

Overall tutorials:

DrawABox.com is a site that's dedicated to art exercises and practicing when you can. They talk about the basics of art as well as how practice is important. It can get tough at times and it's ok to stop and do a balance of say those practices and doodles if you choose to try and do all of it's stuff - but you don't have to either. It's just a nice basic education done by some art nerds who like going hard.

Ethering Brothers - these guys are famous for their 40billion tutorials. If you need help on a specific idea, search their gallery and you'll likely find something.

Thundercluck's Art Fundamentals - She did a good huge ass tutorials on how things work, and it's the least overwhelming of the 3 I got in this section, so I suggest it as one of the first to look at for digital stuff.

Art Instructions Blog - Another good & simpler website that goes great into fundamentals. They focus more on traditional art but if you're digital, you can replicate most of the techniques - art fundamentals and subjects cover all mediums. Very important

Drawsh - Particularly notes on Construction: construction is the basics of building an illusion of a 3D image on a page. Figuring out how to build shape gives depth to your work, and learning how to see in 3D lets you be able to draw an item then move it around in your head (sometimes, when you're good enough, don't be afraid to pull out a reference or use live subjects). Construction is how to figure out the foundation of your drawing, and good planning = better picture! This link starts at the back, hit newer post to go forward.

There's a lot on anatomy and other nitty gritty details for when you want to practice those as well.

Griz and Norm's Assorted tips - Long time artist talk about various tips and tricks they use in art and how to avoid certain pitfalls. It's eclectic but great to look through.

James Gurney's Blog - He's got a lot of thoughts, a lot of tips, and a lot of adventures he catalogues. It's the least organized out of these but fortunately he has plenty of tags and most post have something neat going on. He's fantastic!🥰

BEFORE ALL OTHER BASICS….

How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Mindset

There's a lot of artist with different perspectives on how to approach art and your mindset while doing it, but the general consensus is that it's a process and sometimes you have to remind yourself to enjoy art!

Line

How to draw straight lines without a ruler. …but for the love of all that's good do NOT feel bad about using one! This talks about how to hold your pencil and how to do some good freehand stuff, some good practice.

5 grips for holding a Pencil for Drawing - This goes for pencil, pen, tablet, etc.. Get comfortable and figure out what's right for you and your pictures. I'd like to note that paintbrush holding will overlap, but some will differ.

A few line drawing exercises that help with line confidence.

Types of line drawings & what they are.

Contour Line & exercises with Mrs. Cook - Contour lines are one of the first art exercises I do in all the drawing classes I've taken. The good news is that they're surprisingly fun & look neat, even the blind contours!

Good deep thoughts on lines and how to use them.

Line Weight Tutorial

Lineart Weight Tips!

How to show variation in your line art: part 1 & part 2.

Some teacher's Drawing 1 & 2 lessons put online.

Light, Shadow, & Value

An introduction to tonal values.

Why values are important. The main reasons are that they give depth to a piece, and values literally shape our world.

Tonal Values: Everything you need to know

How does light work & the basics on Light

Light & Shadow in Art - much more in depth of the above! Highly recommended if you have time to spare.

Understanding grayscale/monochrome art. Great for shading & planning.

A guide to Cross Hatching (and hatching in general) - As a side note, crosshatching is one of the early things taught as it marries Line + Value into a nice neat package and helps add form with just a pen.

Crosshatching for Comics

Learn more about coloring by working in grayscale

How to Make Your Art Look Nice - Contrast!

Using lighting to make your art look nice.

Some light & shadow classifications.

Edges - notes on how they work in shading.

Color

A side note - color theory doesn't differ much, but color MIXING will change between mediums. If you're doing traditional colored pencil, you're overlapping 2 or more pigments on top of each other. If you're doing traditional paint, you're mixing & creating a solution/emulsion (depends on the pigment and binding) of pigments with the particles reflecting light in different ways. In digital, overlapping colors & blending colors depend on how the program you use calculates it if you're not just putting 2 color side by side. This just means you have to adjust your mixing when you switch between them. :)

Slawek Fedorczuk's Light & Color Tips - also shows how to guide through a scene.

The Color Tutorial Part 1 & 2 by Sashas - A personal favorite.

Color Studies 1-6 by Sheri Doty Amazingly nice breakdown on how color works in simple terms.

Sarah Culture's Tips on Color

The value of underpainting

A few notes on reflective light.

Experimental color techniques with Alai Ganuza: first post, second, & third.

Color zones of the face charts

Composition

Good Tips on Composition

Here's an example of how you can search the Etherington Brothers' stuff and get like 10 tutorials and tips on one subject. Composition & Cover Design, Shadow Composition, Two Line Composition - plus more.

How to make your art look nice: Thumbnailing!

And don't be afraid to make silly thumbnails or sketches.

Composition Examples - charts like these are great when you can't think of something yourself. There's no shame in using them.

Flow and Rhythm

Formulas for landscape composition.

Perspective

Perspective Drawing Tutorial by Julie Duell

Linear & Atmospheric Perspective Guide

One Point Perspective City Tut by Swingerzetta

Niso Explains Perspective - these are great for drawing figures in perspective!

Putting characters into scenes and drawing backgrounds

Backgrounds that make your character stand out!

Using background detail to guide the eye.

Odds and Ends

I shit you not, probably 1/3rd of my color, value, & structure knowledge comes from pixel art since I've done so much of it and it is all about challenging yourself to do the most you can with limitations. Check out lospec's tutorial database for fun and see how it compares to art techniques you're doing - even if you never try a medium, it's always interesting to see how it works. :D

How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Reference Images & Style, Pushing Proportions, and developing style.

Foervraengd talks about how he expanded his comfort zone with concept art & landscape drawing.

Luna Art talks about what they're thinking when doing concept art.

Repeating visual motifs in character design looks cool.

Eric's Thoughts on Drawing Backgrounds and Props.

Show vs. Tell: Why Visual is Not Optional in comics.

The Lost Vocabulary of Visual Story Telling Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, & Day 4.

Traditional Animation's 2 Digital Library books, The Know-How of Cartooning by Ken Hultgren & Advanced Animation by Preston Blair are two books from the golden age of animation they have up on their site for free viewing!

Animation resources dot org has a lot of cool stuff. Here's Nat Falk's How to Make Animated Cartoons (part 1). Their pages on Instruction & Theory are a good start.

Books

Good news: the internet archive has a TON of resources. Make sure to check around and toggle filters, it's a bit weird with organization. For example, a book can be under art or drawing - techniques, depending on who catalogues it.

Andrew Loomis is someone artist tend to die-hard reccomend. His work is collected here & here on the internet archive (one is Andrew Loomis, the other is Loomis, Andrew - thanks). I own Figure Drawing for All It's Worth and I recommend checking all of his stuff out, especially if you're having trouble with bodies and hands.

The Animator's Survival Guide by Richard Williams is mandatory in animation classes for good reason - it's fantastic!

Perspective for Comic Book Artist by David Chelsea is great for any type of artist. So is Extreme Perspective & Perspective in Action.

Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, Reinventing Comics, & Making Comics. The first one is on the internet archive, the second two are likely avaliable at your library or at a bookstore as they're pretty popular.

Speaking of comics, Drawing Comics the Marvel Way has been a favorite of comic artist for years no matter what comic book companies and artist you like, it's a good introduction.

Anything by or endorsed by James Gurney, Color and Light: A Guide for the Realistic Painter is one of my favorites (this is his official page but you can get them elsewhere for cheaper too).

Art resource blogs with good tagging systems: @artist-refs , @help-me-draw , @helpfulharrie , @art-res , @drawingden , & @how-to-art

Lastly, I suggest if you find something you like online for free, SAVE IT! Whether it is through the Wayback Machine, screenshotting a whole webpage, reblogging/retweeting something, or putting it on pinterest, digital media is fickle and tends to go up in smoke when you least expect it. I have a partially organized Pinterest board that helped me find most of the stuff I wanted to keep. Figure out what works for you and save what you can.

[toytulini]

id honestly end up marking the ppl u list as yellow as also red personally. and id mark ppl yellow who say a couple things that leave me suspicious or post smth about other identities or talk w the reactionary exclusionist rhetoric, but when you search their blog for ace or asexual you get nothing at all, or like, ONLY posts about like, ace attorney, like its fine if you dont post about us a lot but if you have literally nothing on your blog thats even a little bit about us, not even casually inclusive, not even like a fucking pride art post that includes us, but you do post about other lqbtqia+ identities, It Starts To Seem Like either a deliberate purposeful choice, or at the very least, you dont follow enough ppl who talk about a-spec experiences and its going to make you quite susceptible for anyone who knows how to wrap their aphobic rhetoric (coming to mind, innocuously worded posts about homophobia and cishets that Do Not Mention Asexuals by name, but if you check the op theyre an aphobe, and make it clear elsewhere that when they say cishets and homophobes, they mean aces and aros, and they are wording posts like that on purpose,) the type of person who would reblog a lot of that shit onto your dash is someone who doesnt follow enough of us or reblog enough shit to know or recognize, and if you told them they wouldnt care either.

i need a shinigami eyes-type extension for aphobia and i am not joking

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Hello! :] I saw your post recently regarding the pervasive feeling of shame in newer fans re: Danganronpa, and it really resonated. I wanted to offer my two cents as a fandom old/armchair fandom archeologist that's hopefully a little heartening:

I remember back in 2012/2013 when Danganronpa was beloved, during the height of the SomethingAwful TL days. It was a genuinely fun time to be into things, especially as people were getting excited for an EN release, something that I do think the fandom deserves a little credit in making happen. I was there for the UDG release, DR3 anime, and the lead-up to v3's release, and unfortunately, I think the fact that all three of those entries were in some ways polarizing effectively memory-holed a lot of people into believing Danganronpa was never "good" to begin with, which makes it a lot easier to pick out its flaws and give it a bit of a weird reputation now.

(As a tangent, but some more context that might help: Danganronpa also got really big on my neck of the woods in Tumblr during one of the big Homestuck hiatuses. Back in the day there was a lot of fandom crossover, which I don't really think is the case nowadays, but I think for people that were either in both fandoms and had negative experiences, or people outside who disliked either/or, they've been inextricably linked together as part of a particular "time" in Tumblr/internet history that isn't remembered fondly. So, I have a theory that a lot of secondhand Danganronpa disdain comes from misplaced disdain for the other Big Thing at the time.

This also overlapped with the tail end of the big SuperWhoLock era to my memory, which is usually much more focused on which discussing Tumblr history. Which is a shame, because I feel like this particular transitional era of Tumblr "fandom" history has been underdiscussed because of it!

None of this is excusing some of the things I've seen said about DR fans and the ways people have been iced out for liking it, but I find trying to understand the factors at play always helps my mind figure out how to process these things.)

However: time moves on. This isn't permanent. Having gone back and re-experienced the whole series some 5+ years removed, I was able to find joy in parts of the series that, while I was in the thick of a shift in fandom attitude, didn't appreciate as much as I think I should have. I didn't absolutely love everything, but I had so much fun, it almost felt like I was experiencing things again for the first time.

I want to believe the same thing will happen as we get some time removed, as people get nostalgic for things and get older and understand that you can love something flawed, criticize it, and not feel shame for it. I always welcome fresh faces discovering something for the first time, but I think that some day, a lot of older fans can come back and embrace it as well. Sometimes you need time and life and a few extra years on you. I'm living proof of it! :P

Of course, this is just one person's perspective from one slice of the fandom. But I remain hopeful. There really is nothing else quite like Danganronpa for me, warts and all. You don't have to post this publicly or anything if you don't want to, but I wanted to offer a little hope to go with your thoughts. :') and I hope you have a great day!

Oh man, I really really appreciate this message. I am really interested in the perspective of fans who have been here for so long, and I always feel a little out of my depth talking about old (read: 2018 and before) DR fandom because despite seeing a Lot of it in my blog-diving, I still wasn't there. It's genuinely wonderful to hear that it was beloved like that, even if only fully for the first two installments.

I HAVE noticed a weird amount of homestuck/dr crossover in my searches, so that totally makes sense! Hell, my first exposure to DR on tumblr was a homestuck blog I followed back in 2017/2018ish (for the artstyle, I haven't read homestuck) that also posted a lot about Kazuichi. That's super cool!

While I feel like today, there is at least a little bit of fondness (even if it is a little ironic) for superwholock days, I see very little talk of homestuck. And when I do, it is usually with the same flavour of "Wow that fandom was so crazy" as old-DR.

I think there is usually this reactionary retrospective on site-wide popular fandoms to some degree after they start to wane in size. I saw it when I was in the TMA fandom. That thing was a monster, and over all I felt more stressed there than I ever feel now with DR. And after it ended, and really even During those last few episodes, you could feel a level of distaste for the piece of media growing. Although it never really reached critical mass like DR.

Maybe its even more apparent with something like Steven Universe- when it was actively coming out there was so much disdain for it (from some people) and for the fandom. I was there, on the sidelines, but I saw it all and it wasn't fun. But after its finale and a couple years of silence, people now seem to have come around and realized, whoa, so much about all that discourse was way overblown. I feel like a couple years ago there could still have been this sense of "cringe" posting about steven universe, while today its a lot more neutral.

Of course, it's kind of weird to compare DR and SU, and the nature of outside of fandom perspectives on them is not the same. The level of disdain for people posting SU never reached the point of DR either. But if it's anything to go by, I feel like there is hope eventually for people to stop having an immediate knee-jerk reaction to it. To look back and realize, "hey, that was actually pretty good," or "I didn't really appreciate this the first time." Or even just "It's fine actually to have nuanced take on this piece of media I don't like that concludes with them still liking it." I feel like we already got a mini-version of that in 2020, but since that's when I joined I can't speak too much on it.

Small tangent aside, I really appreciate this. I also hope people can come back around to it, or at least appreciate that it made them or other people happy at the time c:

[luckyfluffy-ccs]

Hi hi! It's me!!

First off, happy happy anniversary to you and your amazing story! I was new to the Obey Me fandom when I discovered it while I was searching for Leviathan x Reader fics, and I'm so happy I did! It's such a detailed and wonderful story <3

Here are some of my questions to you! I'm sure others may have written similar ones lol.

How much time do you dedicate to writing and research for your story in your daily/weekly life?

When you're not writing or doing school work, what else do you do during your free time?

In general, which of the seven deadly sins describes you best? Does it correlate to your favorite brother in OM?

Of the OM characters, which one do you relate to the most?

How did you get into reader inserts? Have you played any other dating sims/otome games before getting into OM?

What other, if any, fandoms are you a part of or just like enjoying content of?

Depending on your answers, I wouldn't mind continuing the conversation for some of these questions (especially #5 hehe).

Take care as always and I look forward to you answering these questions, seeing your anniversary art, and reading more chapters! <3 ~Kkat

Hi Kkat!! I sincerely thank you for all your love of my silly story. I still can't believe it my fic you found when you were new! (I hope the occ never put you off back then HJSJH)

As you have asked a lot of (original!) questions, I have answered them under the cut! and I definitely don't mind you continuing to ask more in-depth ones. as long as I can keep it spoiler-free!

(I'm also very flattered there were questions about me haha!)

How much time do you dedicate to writing and research for your story in your daily/weekly life? It varies wildly per week if I am honest. Sometimes I can't write more than a sentence for three weeks straight and another day I pump out 3 spell-checked chapters. The research took up a LOT of time in the very beginning, especially figuring out how I wanted the cast to work out. Now it’s a whole lot less and I barely have to do it. Only when new characters appeared. Or now more commonly when a fact gets revealed about them I tend to thoroughly research it. Last time I had to study for a new fact I had like 7 tabs open on Ley lines and how they worked/their origins. Only to not use it at all lmao (well it's used but only if you squint) However, despite this the story is on my mind 24/7. Thinking about what I want to happen or cute/interesting character interactions. It is often a lot more difficult to put it down in words

When you're not writing or doing school work, what else do you do during your free time? …Well… I mostly uhm, read. Big AO3 fan here. Beyond that, I am a very creative soul. I draw! I used to have an art blog with like 500 followers, but that is in the long past- I'm also trying to make a Bullet Journal atm but I haven't done a whole lot. If I am not busy being so incredibly creative/lh I am usually playing games. I'm not a huge gamer like Levi, but I have a few games that I have quite a number of hours in! (Slime Rancher) Recently I became a huge fan of The Witcher 3 and Cult of the Lamb. If not any of those, I watch anime/read manga, regular shows or movies, talk or hang out with my friends. And I try to go to the gym! Although that's only like 2 hours per week since my stamina is utter garbage lmao

In general, which of the seven deadly sins describes you best? Does it correlate to your favorite brother in OM? This is not even a biassed thing. But my deadly sin would 100% be Envy I am such an incredibly jealous person, even since I was young. Not to trauma dump but all my life I've been compared to my siblings or other family members and now I get envious super easily. Now that I am older I can manage it a lot better than when I was little. But unfortunately, I have my fits. Also yes it correlates to Levi LMFAO Not asked, but if I had to make a tierlist of the sins that describe me. I’d have to say Envy>Wrath>Sloth>Lust>Pride>Gluttony

Of the OM characters, which one do you relate to the most? Extremely difficult question- I relate to so many of them, all for different reasons. Without naming Levi since I spoke about that in a different question, I'd have to say either Lucifer or Satan. Mostly Lucifer as we struggle with those delicious oldest sibling angst and responsibility. Ironically I really hated Lucifer at first, only to realise I was looking in a mirror. While I do not suffer from my pride in the slightest, and without doing a character analysis- I relate to the way he is perceived by others, many new fans think he treats his brothers so roughly. But if you take even 3 seconds to observe him closer you can see he holds so much fondness and love for his close ones. And I feel that. Satan is a similar case. When people don't see him for who he is they tend to quickly fall for the ‘he’s such a gentleman’ or ‘he’d murder you for a sprinkle’ guy. And I love the way Satan is complex because he IS a sweetheart, but he also is the sin of wrath. And people also tend to dumb me down to just one of my character traits so I relate to that so bad. And we are also both obsessed with books!

How did you get into reader inserts? Have you played any other dating sims/otome games before getting into OM? Have… have you heard of Mystic Messenger- that truly was my first otome/dating game. From there on it all went to hell with me- (Beyond Obey Me I actually haven't played that many other dating sims. Dangerous Fellows, LoveUnholic, HUGE fan of The Arcana. Got addicted to Character.ai for a while) Funnily enough, it wasn't that what truly got me into reader inserts. It was… it was Hetalia… while at first I only read their canon ships. I remember a 2p!Italy x reader that made such a huge impact on me, that I suddenly began reading a lot more fanfics with the trope I at first found cringe. (this fanfic has sadly been deleted) I still read a lot of ship fics, but also a big fan of my lovely reader inserts

What other, if any, fandoms are you a part of or just like enjoying content of? Please don't ask for my fandom list. It'd be worth 82 pages long. I’m a huge multi-fandom enjoyer. But if I had to numb it down to just the ones I am most active in then I’d have to be: (in no particular order) Obey Me(duh), FNAF(all media), Video Blogging RPF/Minecraft, Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Enstars, BNHA, Black Butler, Twisted Wonderland, MDZS/Grandmaster of demonic Cultivation/Founder of Diabolism, Dungeon Meshi, haikyuu, ect

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[shirophantomvox]

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

[wangxianficrecs]

Tips On Making A Fic Rec Blog

*Please reblog? This post is (ironically) not showing up in the tags*

These are just suggestions for a Nonny, so please remember that ymmv!

~*~

Start with a clear idea of what your blog will feature.

Different rec blogs focus on different things. Some are more about archiving/retrieval, some include tumblr fics and twitter threadfics along with ao3 fics. Some reblog other people’s rec posts alongside their own. You might want to run a blog that only recs fics suitable for minors, or only kink, or only fic from sites other than AO3, etc. You could focus on a single pairing, or all ships; a single show or multiple fandoms. It helps if you know your focus in advance, so that you can advertise yourself.

For example, my blog only recs stories that I’ve personally read (excepting clearly differentiated Follower Recs, Fic Finders and Mood For posts). My focus is on adding my own comments/summary and my own tags to each rec, because that is what matters to me when I’m selecting a fic. (My cover graphics get attention, and they’re tremendously fun to do, which is why they’re there—I appreciate visuals!—but it’s a huge time commitment, which is probably why no one else does it.)

~*~

Keep it Streamlined

I would suggest that you not use your rec blog to just reblog random fan content (art, gifs, meta, etc.), personal stuff, current events, etc. Save that for another, messier blog. The more concise your offering is, the more people will be willing to follow it. But that’s entirely up to you.

~*~

*Always assume the author will read your rec/bookmark*

Fandom is actually a small world. Be kind and stay positive. Please don’t say things like, The story was great but the grammar/characterization was terrible. Just. Don’t. It’s so harmful. Authors do this for free, and don’t deserve to be stripped raw in public because you want to write a critical review. (This goes for your AO3 bookmarks, too, which are public by default and ALWAYS cruised by the authors.)

~*~

Tag Page - make one!

One of the most important things about running a useful fic rec blog is archiving, which means you should create a tag page (here’s a how to). Find other people’s tag pages to use as a guide, so you’re not overwhelmed by categories. I’ve used the very well-organized wheredidhiseyebrowsgo and mdzs-fic to help me figure out the best way to categorize themes, tropes, etc.

~*~

Tag Your Posts

Only the first 5 tags will show up in public tag feeds (for example, if someone tracks #wangxian, and you use that tag, they’ll see your post on their dash feed even if they aren’t following you). So pick your first 5 tags very carefully, because that’s how people are going to discover your posts. Pick tags that are popular and common, so that you’re seen.

Only the first 20 tags will show up in a dashboard search, so tags 21- ∞ are only useful within your own blog. (Actually, tags might stop at 30, these days, I’ve been cut off a few times when I go over.)

On your blog, ‘search’ and ‘tagged’ will find different posts even if all of them have your term in the tags. So when you’re making your tag page, try both of them on for size and then pick the one that pulls up the most/best options. (I usually use ‘search’.) [Example: https://wangxianficrecs.tumblr.com/tagged/3zun vs https://wangxianficrecs.tumblr.com/search/3zun]

Be consistent! Don’t tag wangxian one time and lan zhan/wei ying the next, for example, or fox!wwx and later use fox wei wuxian. You’ve only got maybe 30 tags to work with, and one tag page!

The tumblr censor-bot will often render your posts invisible to all but your followers, so be careful what you put in tags. *cough* sex acts *cough* Tags that have set off the censor-bot: #prostate exam, #role reversal, #virgin, #explicit. (ETA: this post is actually invisible to searches, probably because of this very paragraph. Sigh.) As you can see, the list is puritanical along with occasionally being simply baffling. Check your post once you’ve posted by clicking on one of the first 5 tags to see if it shows up. If it doesn’t, no one can find it except your followers, so start eliminating any tags or text you think might offend a conservative granny… it’ll show up eventually. Hopefully. Maybe.

~*~

Tumblr Limitations

Tumblr tag searches only pull up the last 200 posts with that tag. Do with that what you will. (My blog has nearly 700 recs at this point, so the common tags, like ‘wangxian’, will only pull up the recent posts.)

Tumblr will sometimes just… remove your links. I haven’t figured out a pattern, it’ll just take some out randomly from here and there. You are limited to only 200 links total (soon to be only 100 😟). So be aware.

Sometimes your posts won’t show up in searches or tag feeds for no discernable reason. If you don’t see an obvious culprit (like the word ‘prostate’), just attribute it to chaotic coding nonsense and decide whether you want to re-post (not reblog) a day or so later to see if that works better.

On your dashboard, a ‘search’ will sort through titles, some content, and tags 1-20 —whereas ‘tagged’ only covers the first 5 tags.

~*~

Searches on AO3 vs. Tumblr

AO3 has a MUCH more robust search feature, and it’ll pull up so much more than your tag page on Tumblr... due to Tumblr’s limitations, not your own as an archivist. So if you keep your AO3 bookmarks in order, you can direct followers to search those if they need more granular or complete searches.

AO3 Collections is a fabulous feature—mine is WangxianFicRecs. You can make one for your rec posts so that you and others can select and exclude multiple tags at a time. I suggest you just do a bookmarks collection rather than a works collection, because the latter requires the authors to approve their inclusion, while the former is something you control completely. @ao3commentoftheday has helpful posts on #How To AO3.

One last thing about AO3 bookmarks. This being a fandom where many authors get bullied out, I've begun adding the fic title & author to my bookmarks, so I can still find it once a work has been hidden or deleted. I also download PDFs of each work I rec, so that it doesn't vanish forever. (I don't make them publicly available, but I will share them on an individual basis unless the author asks me not to.)

~*~

These are things I’ve worked out over the entire past year, so don’t get overwhelmed, you don’t have to do all (or any) of this, and certainly not all at once.

I hope this helps, good luck, and have fun!

~ mojo

P.S. I don’t have a clue how tag pages work on mobile, since I don’t use mobile for any of this. I think it sucks, though?

[I posted this once before, here.]

[th3-z0diac]

How I Make Aesthetics.

Long post ahead, sorry :(

In the past, I've been asked multiple times how I create my aesthetics and where do I get the best pictures for them, so I figured I'd make this master post of what exactly I do. Btw this is coming from a person who has studied graphic design for 4 years and had about 4 years of experience in making zodiac collages here on tumblr. Do what you want with that information.

A few disclaimers

There are different types of aesthetics and in this post, I'm going to be specifically talking about a certain type that I like to make. Here, examples:

My most used format is 6 pictures in 3 rows, but I've also tried 4 pictures, like here for example:

There are other types such as minimalistic photos, dark academia, grunge, and SO many more. Please keep in mind that I'm not hating on these types and when I mention a rule such as don't use photos that are too minimalistic, I am not saying that minimalistic aesthetics are wrong or ugly or anything of that sort!

Just because I don't choose a certain photo doesn't mean I don't like it, it just means that the photo is not exactly what I'm looking for. By me showing you the examples below, I'm just trying to paint a picture. No hate here, okay?

I don't own any of the pictures I use (I've only used like one or two of my own photos in the past) but then again this is just for entertainment, I don't make money doing this or anything. If I ever get a message from an owner of any of these photos and they want me to delete it, I will delete it.

Where to get the photos

Pinterest! Period. AHAHAHA

No but seriously, pinterest and tumblr are my two favorite sources and you will find pretty much exactly what you need there. pinterest specifically.

On tumblr, I usually search for hipster, grunge, indie, and nature, but it also helps to just find specific blogs that focus on photography, follow them and then just download anything from your dashboard that you fancy.

I'll share what I search for on pinterest below👇. My secret tip would be to not always go for the first photo you find but rather to open a picture that sorta has what you like in it and then scroll down, because pinterest is going to recommend you similar, sometimes better fitting photos. On tumblr, I sometimes go to the blog of the person whose one photo I like, and there I tend to find many more of the same kind (since these bloggers usually post a specific kind of aesthetic).

How to choose photos

My number one tip would be to seek texture. Avoid photos that have little going on in them and anything too empty or minimalistic (unless that's what you're aiming for, obviously). Also, don't choose pictures that are very light or very dark, as they tend to stand out in aesthetics and that's not really what you want. At least in the type of aesthetics that I make, I want the final product to be almost a new picture in itself if that makes sense. To show you an example, look at this photo of two sleeping cats:

This photo seems like a good fit; it is well balanced in colours (there are shades of white, beige/ginger as well as some greens) and c'mon, it's two cats, what more do you need!!! However, let's look at it in a complete aesthetic:

While this aesthetic has a nice color scheme to it (well, it doesn't, I threw it together super quickly, but you get the gist), the photo of the two cats just stands out because the khaki background creates this kind of block of color that your eye will automatically go to and it sort of breaks the collage apart. So, by texture, I mean that a picture is filled, for example with trees, flowers, architecture, little people in the background, etc., etc. Furthermore, I prefer when there are more things photographed (for instance, look at the first picture of the aesthetic above; it has a mirror (and a tiny person in it), architecture and leaves all in one picture)

Next, personality. Go to Google Images and search 'Nature Photography' or 'Sunset Photos'. You might get something like this:

Or this:

Look at this absolute angel of a boy💚💚💚💚💚💚Isn't he the cutest freaking thing you've ever seen?????? I just want to give him all the treats and all the pets and — ...ehm, sorry, that's not why we're here.

So I don't quite know how to explain this point, but I guess usually professional photos like this are just so well done that they work perfectly well on their own and you usually don't put them in a set (only with other photos from the same photoshoot maybe). They're obviously well-balanced color-wise and high in quality, but they're just very individual and don't really need any addition in the form of other photos. This point also applies to the previous one (textures, in case you forgot); for example, a bunch of blueberries creates a nice texture, however it might be difficult to pair them with other photos. They have enough personality on their own (and this is not meant in a bad way to the photos I do use).

Related to this, you're looking for a story. Usually, if a photo gives off a certain vibe, tells a story, or just leaves any kind of strong impression, it might be a good indication that this is a good photo to use (given all the other rules as well, of course).

The main themes I search for are:

cities, villages, or abandoned places

related to that — architecture or only parts (details) of it

nature, specifically forests with either road or a body of water nearby, beaches, deserts and so on. plus points for tiny people in the distance

animals, usually with the addition of maybe the texture of a sweater sleeve or some blankets, something of that sort

people, my favorite kind is people turned away from the camera with an interesting background, because by them not having a face, they become a bit more relatable in a sense?

people in a river or some kind of water

museums, sculptures

etc.

Usually, I tend to avoid:

photos with text in it (though as an exception I would mention neon signs or letters/words that are for example above shops, on books, etc.)

heavily filtered pictures

photos with very specific (often bold) colors in them, unless you find multiple photos with that same shade. this again distracts the eye too much

GIFs, animated pictures, illustrations/drawings. also, don't use collages (cause you are creating a collage, duh)

black & white pictures

blurred pictures (or those that are purposely grainy — that goes back to the filters above)

anything obviously photoshopped

When trying to figure out where to put each photo

Squint your eyes. The photos should create a nice harmony, there shouldn't be a corner where it gets too light or dark or where some textures blend together, for example, if using multiple flower patterns, try to place them in different corners.

When to know your aesthetic is done

Actually even before you start, you should be in the mood. I have to admit, there have been times where I've felt pressured into making aesthetics, and now, looking back at them, I'm really ashamed of them. That is why I don't always post aesthetics as soon as I get them requested because I genuinely want them to look good.

Sometimes, it helps to not post the aesthetic straight away but to come back to it later with a fresh look. I'd say go with your gut. You should have a good, satisfying feeling about the aesthetic.

Last note

Rules are meant to be broken. Look at the aesthetic below. I used a minimalistic illustration (two birds with one stone I guess) (and admittedly, that one picture does stand out) and yet the aesthetic still came out pretty nice. So, just play around with your ideas and see what you like the most! I'm just a random person on the internet, you literally don't have to listen to any of the tips I gave you here today.

I know this might seem like a lot (honestly, if you've read this entire thing, you're crazy), but it gets easier and easier with practice, soon you won't even think about it.

Hopefully these tips will help you and please let me know if you decide to make any aesthetics. I would love to see them!! <3

[obae-me]

“Can you write the brothers with an MC who has a big scary looking dog but is actually really friendly, and a small adorable cuddly cat but actually hates new people?”

So Tumblr screwed me over a small bit by deleting a draft of an ask someone gave me, even though it still says I have a draft, when I go back to my drafts they’re gone, so I had to rewrite it. I have learned my lesson for not keeping it saved on something else. So I hope the quality didn’t suffer for it.

Thank you to the person who sent me this request, I’m sorry I can’t remember your blog name! You were really very friendly so thank you, stay hydrated and take care of yourself! 💜

Lucifer

When MC came to the devildom with two animals in tow, he wasn’t ready for the new year of having to look after three new additions to the household. Especially after many many Henry incidents, and that one Satan fiasco with the cats. It took them months to clean up all that cat hair. However, much to Lucifer’s surprise, MC took care of them really well. He gained a new respect for MC’s ability to follow through with responsibilities.

He did find it amusing that MC had a huge dog following them around. Of course they weren’t as big as Cerberus or nearly as terrifying, but MC’s pet was fairly intimidating for a normal creature.

He’s a dog person for sure. He’ll bond with MC’s dog faster than anyone would expect. Some of it having to do with the fact that Lucifer was the only brother willing to approach them at first.

He wasn’t surprised that the pet was lovable. He could tell that there was no malice in their eyes even when they barked at him. If he felt the pet needed some behavioral lessons, he’d gladly help MC with it. He trained Cerberus with his own two hands after all. 

He’d give the dog many secret treats and pets while no one was looking.

The cat though, he’d stay away from that one. One attempt to pet it as a show good spirits and one pair of his favorite gloves were ruined.

Mammon

MC had pets? He was excited for em, especially since Lucifer had never let him have a pet, and since they were MC’s he could have all the benefits of a pet without having to take care of them!

He tried bonding with the cat first since the small thing looked nothing like their dog. They were so tiny it was hard to believe it wasn’t a kitten. They had the biggest eyes, eyes that just begged for love! But when Mammon tried to pick the cat up, they hissed, leaving a large scratch mark on his face as they dashed under MC’s bed. He found it best to leave the cat alone from now on.

MC’s dog scared him for a while, though he’d never admit it, he’d just avoid the pet whenever he saw them. One day in particular, when the dog spotted him, it ran after him at full speed, causing Mammon to shriek and sprint away with colorful language. He’s the fastest demon so he got away just fine, but he could still hear them clawing at the door.

On the search to find their dog, just to find them sulking at Mammon’s door, MC went inside to find him curled up in the backseat of one of his cars. They dragged him out and sat him on his bed and slowly introduced the two to each other. MC’s dog had just been chasing him because they wanted to play. Mammon knew that, for sure, totally.

He’ll make sure to give both pets plenty of toys to make sure he doesn’t become their next one. 

Levi

Pets that had fur instead of scales? And they weren’t named Henry? MC was a typical Normie. 

He’d appreciate both of them from a distance, the last thing he wants is hair on his figures and in his equipment. He shudders to remember when he cleaned out his keyboard after the Cat Incident.

He does love that MC has pets though, don’t get him wrong. He’ll reminisce about all the fond memories he had about all his Henrys. He and MC will share fun pet stories and gush over photos.

He’ll eventually allow MC to try to acquaint him with their pets, but he’s not sure how well it will go since he has too many bad memories of Cerberus chasing him, snarling at him, ruining an entire manga collection. And cats love fish, what if they get their claws on his precious Henry?! 

It surprisingly went okay, he enjoys now trying to get MC’s dog to do cool tricks that he’s seen in anime. As for the cat, Levi often finds them in his room, tail flicking as they closely watch and gently swat at the fish that swim by. He also tends to find them curled up on his warm consoles. There’s something comforting about having a little companion while he plays his games, something his fish can’t always give him. 

Satan

Cat?? MC has a cat?? Lucifer banned him from bringing cats into the house, so the fact that MC had one meant that he could pay attention to them all he wanted, and Lucifer couldn’t prevent him from doing so.

His brothers were idiots to try and immediately lay hands on the cat. He had read about feline behavior and knew that you let the cat decide to initiate contact if they’re particularly scared of people.

So he’d get the kitty used to him first, by going into MC’s room and making sure it was obvious he was friendly with the owner. And then he’d just sit there in silence and read for hours, making sure they were now used to his presence.

It took a few days of patience but then he finally watched in glee as the small cat padded over to him warily, smelling him and making sure he wasn’t dangerous. Satan slowly held his hand out, making sure that the cute thing nuzzled against his fingers first before he would gently scratch under their chin.

His other brothers now looked at him in awe as Satan now often had the cat in his lap while he read, while most of them couldn’t even get close.

He didn’t quite bond with the dog, but he did occasionally give the pup a pat on the head. 

Asmo

He’s not really a pet person, like, at all. Hair all over his clothes? Constantly smelling like an animal, and not in the way he’s usually used to? No thank you! He could’ve understood if it was a cute dog you could keep in a purse or an elegant cat that made the owner look like royalty, but they were neither.

But, much to even his own surprise, he came around to them. Enthusiastically so, even, much to the shock of the House of Lamentation. It started with just pictures of them. Cats and dogs do great on Devilgram and this could be a good opportunity to show people he has a secret side.

His profile skyrocketed, which was impressive since he’s already immensely popular. His beautiful face night near these cute creatures gets him even more likes than before.

Before MC knows it, somehow he has their dog trained to sit and pose for the camera. He’ll even buy special collars and cute little accessories for the pets, making sure they look super cute for all of their photo-shoots, not as much as he is but close enough.

If the cat ever scratches him he’ll ensure MC makes up for it by giving his wound a kiss.

Beel

Beel is a puppy himself, let’s be honest. MC finds it incredibly cute how alike they are. They’re both big, strong, and intimidating, but when you get to know both of them, they’re loyal, lovable, and precious. 

He gets along great with both of the animals. The cat would scratch him to heaven and back, but he didn’t budge, and sooner than later the kitty warmed up to him. They would oftentimes treat him like a climbing post, clawing their way up his body just to stand on his shoulders, but he didn’t mind. 

As for the dog, it started off by stalking Beel, playfully of course. It didn’t stop any of the brothers from having a mini heart attack, though, as they watched MC’s huge intimidating dog slowly making their way across the hall, haunches ready to strike. The dog could play-bite him, tug at his clothes, and jump on him all they wanted to, he was unbothered. He’d even share some of his food with them.

Beel and the dog would even play-wrestle, it was great for both of them as they would expel their energy and spend more time together. And of course MC would bring both of them plenty of treats for being good. 

Belphie

He doesn’t like dogs, they’re too loud and rambunctious. Not to mention high maintenance. He prefers cats given the chance, but even sometimes they’re still too much work. 

He did make an attempt to pet the cat, only for it to attack as soon as it got the chance. It left a big hole in his favorite pillowcase. He was offended. It was supposed to be friendly, cute, and cuddly, and yet it struck back and attacked him immediately. The irony was lost on him.

MC decided that they wanted the two to get along since they were sure they would be best buds given the chance. 

When Belphie went to go take a nice nap, MC brought their tiny kitty over to his slumbering body, placing them on top of him over his blanket. The cat was tense at first, but he was so warm and comfortable, they stretched out and curled up on him. When Belphie opened his eyes and saw the wide, irresistibly cute eyes staring back at him, he couldn’t move. He just went back to bed.

Now it’s a rare sight when the two aren’t together, taking naps near the fireplace, outside under the stars. He’ll never tell anyone how he now loves to fall asleep to the sound of the cat’s purring.   

[nationalharryleague]

Dance it Out

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: FLUFF

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: I decided to write a self indulgent fluffy fic after I had a bad day! It’s not my favorite thing I’ve ever written but I like it and I hope you do too :) let me know what you think! Any feedback is appreciated!! More of my work can be found in my masterlist!

Today was terrible.

You had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything afterwards was downhill. The zipper on your favorite pair of pants broke, then your car wouldn’t start, you got yelled at by your boss at work, and when you decided to treat yourself to a latte on the way home, it was made with spoiled milk. It just wasn’t your day.

Walking in your house, you immediately kicked off your heels and began ripping off your uncomfortable work clothes, stomping past Harry on the couch and up the stairs towards your shared bedroom. You heard him sarcastically call ‘Welcome home, honey,’ behind you but you were just too angry at the world to answer. And unfortunately for Harry, he happened to be in the world. 

Once in your room, your eyes narrowed on the spot where you left your favorite t-shirt of Harry’s that you changed out of this morning, only to find it empty. A whiny pout found its way to your lips and you searched around the room until you noticed it in a pile of freshly washed and folded clothes on the dresser. While you understood your loving boyfriend was just trying to stay on top of the household chores, he had washed the smell of his cologne out of the fabric and you wondered if it would ever smell the same again.

After raiding Harry’s closet to find something else comfy enough to wear, you crawled into your bed. You didn’t even realize you were crying, only noticing when you felt the fabric of your pillowcase get soggy.

You felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum and you hated it. You should be able to roll with the punches of daily life like an adult and get over yourself, but today just got to you more than you expected. You felt defeated and down and wished you could start again.

“My love,” you heard sing-songed in your direction from down the hallway, “where are ya?” He rounded the corner to find you under a pile of blankets and with mascara beginning to run down your face. He stopped in his tracks, concern flashing across his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, worry and care clear in his voice.

“I’ve just had a very bad day,” you whimpered to the man sitting on the edge of the bed. You held the sheets tight to your chest, making you only visible from the nose up, and sank into the bed in an attempt to hide from the world. Harry reached out and smoothed a hand over your forehead, combing a few stray strands away from your face. His warm hands were welcome.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, met with the shake of your head. He scanned the small amount of your face he could see and was met with tired eyes. “Do you want to cuddle?” Once again, he was met with a small shake to your head. This worried him; you were not known to deny an opportunity to be the little spoon. “I’m going to make us some tea and then we’re going to figure out what we can do to make today better, okay?” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pushed himself off the bed.

As you watched Harry leave the room, your deliriously exhausted eyes welled with tears thinking about how good he was to you. He was a dream. You had met by chance in a bar several years ago when you were far too intoxicated for your own good. You had made a complete fool out of yourself and yet somehow he thought it was charming, eventually asking for your number. You were still shocked that you didn’t scare him off when you slurred ‘Harry fucking Styles, I had a blog about you, ya know?’ in his face. You had been a massive One Direction fan in your teens and you still couldn’t believe he was yours most days. Your teenage dreams had come true and you loved every second of it.

Please come downstairs. We both know you’ll spill tea in the bed., your phone read. When you took a moment to respond, it was followed by a gif of Kermit the Frog sipping tea. You appreciated his attempt at a meme reference, even if it was years old.  While you were slightly offended that he thought you’d spill, you knew he was right and mustered all your strength to drag yourself from your warm pile of blankets. You crossed your arms in front of you and made your way down the stairs into the living room, grabbing a new blanket off the back of the couch and creating another cocoon.

You watched as he walked out of the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed, focusing on carefully balancing your two mugs before setting them on the coffee table. He murmured ‘I’ll be right back’ against your forehead and exited the room once again. You wondered where he was going and pouted that you didn’t get a hug yet. As soon as you heard it, you immediately knew what he was doing.

The first few chords played over the speakers in your living room were immediately recognizable and brought you back to your childhood bedroom, twirling around the room shouting One Direction at the top of your lungs. As the introduction to 18 began, your cheeky boyfriend appeared back in the room, wearing his best grin. You rolled your eyes at him as he pranced around the house, putting on a living room performance for you. You had watched him so many times at concerts, but they had all been on his own, singing his own solo music.

He didn’t really ever talk about One Direction much. When you asked questions, he answered them, but he never brought it up on his own. He regarded it as a chapter of his life that he was thankful for, but that had ended. But he also knew that One Direction was your comfort music, and it usually could get you out of a bad mood.

“I have loved you since we were 18,” he sang, standing on top of the new and expensive coffee table. While you wanted to scold him and get off, you also didn’t want to stop watching how he wiggled his hips too soon.

“You’re older than me and we met when I was 24.”

“Okay Miss Buzzkill,” he put his hands up in surrender, feigning offence. “I guess I need the big guns,” he laughed, taking out his phone and switching to another song you knew by heart.

The guitar riff of Clouds started, balring over the stereo, and so did Harry’s dancing. You watched him as he jumped off the coffee table, almost fell, and then began hip trusting to the beat. You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before you, trying to disguise your joy, too stubborn to give into his tactics so easily.

“I see that smile!” he pointed at you accusingly as he continued to jump around the room, dodging furniture as he went. “I know this is working!”

“No it’s not,” you smirked defiantly. “Everything is awful and I refuse to be happy,” you said crossing your arms in front of you.

With a dramatic eye roll, Harry pulled his phone out to change the song once again, this time to Where Do Broken Hearts Go, your ultimate favorite song. He knew this and he knew exactly what he was doing by the look of the smirk that found its way onto his face. He peered up at you from the device in his hands, eyebrows raised looking for your response. An exasperated ‘fine’ left your lips as you lifted yourself off of the couch to join him in his dance party.

You made your way over to him and fell into his strong arms, laying your head on his chest as you two began an awkward slow dance to the high energy music. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and started to speak softly, just audible above the music, in your ear.

“Angel, I know you’ve had a tough day,” he began, lips still brushing over your skin, nose buried in your hair, “but we can still make tonight a good night.” You bodies rocked back and forth in sync together, swaying to another beat only you two could feel, completely disregarding the music playing around you. You looked up into this soft and questioning eyes, and nodded, hoping to turn your day around.

This was a Harry only you knew; his hair held back by one of your hair clips, dressed in a tattered old t-shirt he refused to replace and running shorts, the stubble of a few days at home found on his chin. The rest of the world got the rockstar in head-to-toe Gucci and glamour, and sometimes you did too, but this was Harry. This was who your man really was.

Taking you hand, he twirled you in a circle, a small grin breaking onto your face. It felt like it was the first time you had really smiled that day, a feeling of peace finally taking over you. With a deep breath, you decided to start anew.

“I need you to play Treat People With Kindness and dance it out with me,” you told him, ready to get out of your funk.

“There’s my girl,” he lit up, pressing kisses around your face as he changed the song.

Hearing the angelic voices of the chorus envelop you, you began to dance, Harry mirroring your movement. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, letting go, and moving your body however felt good. Arms swung in whatever direction they felt like and you bounced up and down the rhythm.  And you both just danced; singing along with the music you both knew by heart and experiencing every emotion Harry intended listeners to feel.

By the final beats, a big cheesy grin stretched across your lips and you let out a few breathless giggles as the song ended. You both collapsed on the couch in a fit of laughter and you rolled into his slightly sweaty body, finding yourself right at home within his arms.

“Thank you,” you told him as you rested your head on his chest, “I needed to get it all out.”

“I figured my angelic voice would help.”

Thank you for reading!! My ask box is open for any feedback you have :)

[evarcana]

Taking it out on you

Ev attends the court meeting only to learn that sometimes the second impressions are just as bad as the first ones.

characters: Ev Panopolis, consul Valerius and brief appearance of Volta

words: ~3k

warnings: alcohol (as expected)

notes: On some point I gave up on the idea of Ev being the apprentice, as she just does not have this "MC energy". So this is an introduction to her story, because there is no better way to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of this blog than to remember that a very long time ago I used to write fanfiction.

It has been almost a month already. Almost a month since she came to Vesuvia, almost a month since she was told that her services were not required here. The thought makes Ev frown, but she keeps a quick pace, the sound of her impatient steps on the marble floor echoing through the palace corridor.

It is just before eleven o’clock, and the last of crisp morning sun pours over the rich mauve of lustrous silk drapes and the gold leaf of intricately carved murals, drawing out the warm scent of orange blossom and beeswax from the polished panels of precious wood. Vesuvian palace is exactly what she was promised - a great wonder, and yet Ev doubts it could give any lesser impression while the backdrop to its striking opulence is the city torn apart by disease and grief.

There are no servants or visitors in sight, and Ev’s only company in this seemingly endless corridor are paintings on the walls, depicting what she can only guess are some of the proud moments of Vesuvian history - people and places so foreign to her.

She does simple math in her head: two months and two days ago she was marching down the corridor of a very different palace, eager to be on time for the meeting with Crown Princess Nafizah despite the quite literal last minute notice, and not knowing yet that she was about to hear details of this so-called diplomatic mission.

Back then it sounded straightforward enough. Prakra couldn’t ignore the news of Count Lucio's tragic death, not least because that meant Princess Nadia, the youngest daughter of the Prakran royal family, was left widowed and with the daunting task of handling the red plague epidemic in Vesuvia all on her own. Any ruler could do with an extra pair of hands and any country could benefit from the alliance with Prakra, especially in times of crisis like this. And it would have stayed straightforward if only the discovery of Countess Nadia’s mysterious illness and the unexpected, unreasonable, outrageous hostility of Vesuvian court did not bring this crisis to the whole new, now personal, level.

In theory, Ev did not have to deal with any of that. She could use the excuse that it was only appropriate to deliver such unsettling news about Nadia in person, go back and forget everything that happened in this palace like one of those unpleasantly bizarre dreams you get after a night of drinking. But Vesuvia was still the city Prakra cared about, Nadia’s city, and as far as Ev knew none of the people who came to be in charge of it were appointed by her. Prakran diplomatic presence was perhaps the only way to look after Nadia’s interests until she woke up. Even if Ev had no actual power over the court, returning to Prakra without accomplishing at least something felt like a failure, and failure has never been an option for Ev. With that in mind, she pressed the seal with enough force to imprint Prakran royal crest on the desk and not just on the drop of red wax marking the envelope, and stayed.

Now, after a month of living in the city, she has learned to see that there is more to her new role than just misfortunes. Her relocation allowance is generous, her new place is nicer than what she had in Prakra and she is getting rather used to the convenience of the wine shop next door. Even if parts of it are foreign and unwelcoming, Ev feels at ease in Vesuvia. The tension in her body relaxes, and she thinks maybe this palace can eventually get used to her too, but the thought faints away as soon as she sees the salon door. Ev presses a pile of papers closer to her chest and tells herself that she can think about everything else another time - the court meeting is about to start.

She pushes the door open but immediately freezes on the spot stricken by the gagging wave of nausea - nails dirty with soil and blood, sickly sweet buttercream pastries and rustle of feathers covered in mud. It is no more than a faint impression but even through the fogged mind Ev recognises the feeling - it is vestige, the afterimage of magic. She has felt it before, many times and in many different forms but never has it made her feel physically sick. What is even more unusual is that such a revolting sensation is coming from the palace quarters. One would expect tingles of bubbles from the charmed fountains of never ending sparkling wine or at least the impression of whispers, premium tea, treacle and bitter ambition from the walls which have been magically given ears, and not... whatever this is. Ev draws a deep breath, pushing down into her diaphragm and looks around the room. The salon is not set up for the court meeting, instead there is a tray of food and stacks of empty plates towering on almost every flat surface. Her eyes stop on greasy remains looking terribly out of place on the delicate porcelain plate and she unconsciously covers her mouth. Maybe she is mistaken after all - it is the strange smell of food and not some kind of creepy magic, and, more importantly, maybe this is not the salon she was looking for.

Before Ev gets a chance to mentally blame the chamberlain for giving her the wrong directions, a tiny figure appears from behind the chair. The white cornette is instantly recognisable and Ev is about to ask procurator Volta whether she is here for the court meeting too when she sees that behind the commotion of dark robes Volta is frantically trying to push the whole roast rack of lamb down her mouth. Dear gods. Somewhat unsurprisingly, one of the bones appears to be stuck. Clearly having not expected to have an audience, the procurator widens her eyes at Ev in a mixture of terror and shame. Unable to speak, after a few incoherent squeaks, she throws her tiny hands in the air helplessly, spattering herself with gravy and gestures to the open French doors leading to the balcony. Without giving it too much thought, Ev gives Volta a quick nod and takes an opportunity to escape the awkwardness of the scene.

Wrapped in the soft shade of the balcony, consul Valerius is casually leaning back in the chair, with the usual glass of wine in his hand. Even before she reaches the doors, Ev sets her eyes on his face. The consul is looking away, his face carved and unmovable, the tight knot of dark eyebrows making him look ireful and disgruntled, like one of those statues of stern gods she saw growing up in Zadith. Her next step lands much quieter and then, there steps in, Ev stops and stands very still wondering what thoughts could possibly bring this storm to Valerius’s face. Sun would suit him much more, she thinks, her eyes curiously trailing down the golden glints of his hair.

A loud snort catches Ev off guard and she realises that Valerius is now facing her, looking considerably more displeased than before, no doubt because of her. That’s more like it. How could she forget that this man is the very cause of her problems.

“Could I please have some of your time, consul?” she asks, heading straight towards him. Greetings seem excessive, they didn’t necessarily part on friendly terms last time.

“I didn't expect to see you here again.”

Ev allows herself a smirk. “I know.” I am not here to do what you expect from me. She stops inches away from his chair looking down at him, apparently enjoying the close proximity which, considering their formal relationship and the consul’s well known bad temper, could be regarded as both highly inappropriate and potentially reckless. But Valerius only turns away, more interested in his drink than in her.

“I have been studying the treasury records,” she continues, searching his face for any kind of reaction. His lips curl up in a sneer as he takes a sip of wine, but his eyes are still firmly fixed on the horizon. Ev follows his gaze expecting to see some radical change to the surrounding landscape, but there is only faint outline of the city roofs behind the lush green of the palace's vast grounds, - no columns of smoke, no ominous looking storm clouds gathering in the distance, nothing that could possibly be more interesting than her. Whatever. “Your tax system - ,” she hands Valerius neatly arranged papers, which he completely ignores,“- it is not working.”

“Vesuvian tax system remained largely unchanged for the last two generations, this is how these matters are handled traditionally,” says Valerius, once again denying Ev courtesy of eye contact.

Ev’s mouth twists at the sound of the last words. Too worried the conservative mindset might be contagious, she quickly withdraws her hand and takes a step back.

“I trust you understand that sometimes one should focus on what works, and not what is traditional,” she says, doing her best to disguise the growing irritation. “You don’t attract nearly as much foreign trade as you used to.”

What comes next is a very profound, uncomfortable silence. Ev sighs.

“Consul, you had plague in the city, people died,” her voice is louder now, “lots of people died”, and the irritation is obvious. “And Vesuvia cannot exist without its people. Somebody needs to bring food from the farmlands, make clothes, teach children, attend to the sick. Yes, in the past you could always import whatever you did not have but now people are scared to come because of the plague. You -”, she pauses in anticipation noticing Valerius shifting in his seat, but he only reaches for the bottle to top up his glass, “- you need to do something to make it attractive for them again. Lower the customs, lift the taxes for people whose skills you need, sell empty real estate cheap. There is plenty all around the city!”

Deep down Ev knows that none of these is going to work long term, but she doesn't care - she wants to do something and she wants to do it now.

Yet, nothing changes. She is still standing there, and he is still looking away. Ev would prefer him to disagree, start arguing with her - anything really, as long as it breaks this silence.

“Fine! If you don’t feel like changing this traditional system of yours, even temporarily, at least fix your mistakes.” Ev starts chaotically flipping through the papers searching for the one she needs, which would be a much easier task, if she was less flurried and if Valerius offered her a seat. She wonders whether he is now watching her, sneering at her struggle. “Your approved accounts, here,” this time she brusquely puts the paper in front of Valerius’s face blocking his view, “your numbers do not even add up! ”

For a split second she sees something on his face - a twitch, a flick of rage, and thinks that she has gone too far. But his question comes out in a calm, almost disinterested tone: “What makes you think that somebody like you is even qualified to check the city’s budget approved by the esteemed procurator Volta?”

A moment passes before Ev is able to break from staring at Valerius in disbelief. She glances to the salon where, judging by the sound, Volta has freed her mouth only to move to the next dish. Seriously? Perhaps she should be impressed that he managed to say it with the straight face.

And then there is a chilling sensation at the pit of Ev’s stomach. She asks herself what is going on here? What is this city under the reign of a person who questions everything and everyone except the obvious mistake in the accounts? And what is she - ? Angry, she reminds herself, is what she is, and throws a look at Valerius, who is taking another sip from his glass as in triumph. You don’t need to be qualified, you just need to have common sense. And you, Valerius, either don’t have it or you were not even bothered to look at what your court approves.

She pictures him lazily drinking wine, legs on the desk, his shirt unbuttoned, while completely ignoring his state duties. The image is irritating and yet not entirely unpleasant.

“We both know that I come from a family of alchemists and merchants. Trust me, I know how to count,” she says with a smile. It sounded right in her head, a ridiculous answer to the ridiculous question.

“I thought that during our last meeting you said that you had nothing to do with your witchcraft family.” A perfectly raised eyebrow, and that infuriating smirk.

Ev opens her mouth in protest but gives up quickly. Those were her exact words after all, save for the witchcraft part.

She begins to pace around the balcony avoiding looking at Valerius as much as possible. The consul clearly has a way of getting on her nerves, and she needs all her concentration if she wants to explain what exactly will happen to this goddamn city if they carry on with this approved budget.

“Think about the consequences for the people if this mistake is not corrected!” she shouts, her voice much louder than she would like it to be, and quickly turns to Valerius expecting a blowback. But the pale eyes are looking down, studying something on the floor, or on the edge of the fabric of her long sleeve, she really can’t tell. Oh gods, he is not even paying attention.

***

Valerius has firmly decided that he is not going to pay any attention.

The time of plague was exhausting: the palace suddenly full of people of all kinds and intentions promising to find a cure, pleas for help on the streets which he could not escape even behind the doors of the most expensive carriages, the count who was growing more desperate everyday and the white smoke of the Lazaret carried by the sea breeze towards the city, the memory of which still haunts him. And now there is the Satrinavas’ new pet here having an audacity to talk about his city’s problems - the problems which, out of all people, he should know the most about, he is the consul after all, and a Vesuvian.

Vesuvia he inherited is haggard and sad, and on top of that an enormous responsibility. The last thing he needs is a stranger questioning his authority, as if the incompetent court and the city demanding their beloved countess back have not been tiresome enough. Valerius lets out a short, barely audible sigh. He just wants this farce to be over so he can go back to thinking.

But the witch is not planning to stop, if anything she seems to be enjoying it. Look at her. Absorbed by herself and her ludicrous ideas, she is loud and talks too much with her hands. Her dress keeps slipping down the shoulder draping around the soft curve of a half barred breast every time she does one of these unnecessary, overconfident gestures. Valerius has absolutely no idea whether this is deliberate or she is simply unaware of the indecency which keeps drawing his eyes.

He tries to distract himself by taking a drink of wine only to discover that his glass, just like the air around him, is full of this loud perfume of hers. Harsh cinnamon, incense and patchouli, very much alike their owner, have no concept of the personal space ruining the perfect balance of his red. The wine is not helping. He catches himself looking at the shoulder again. In fact, absolutely useless. He sets his unfinished glass aside on the small table. Valerius has had enough.

***

“Enough!” Valerius shouts. His voice is suddenly deep and rather forceful and Ev hates that it has the desired effect on her. She stops and looks at him. “You were not invited to the court meeting.” The consul’s face looks awfully angry now.

Ev narrows her eyes. “And what exactly are you doing at your court meeting?”

“That should not be a concern of the Prakran subject”, Valerius says, his words dripping with poison, “or whoever you are.”

“I am a diplomatic emissary -,” she does not get a chance to finish.

“Leave!”

Ev wants to scream and protest, but even she knows better than to yell at somebody who outranked her. She draws a breath. One, two, three. All right.

“I only came to give you the papers”, she says coldly, her eyes still locked on his, and leans forward to place the documents on the table. “But I am taking this away, one should work without the distraction of wine.”

With these words Ev snatches the glass from the table, turns away and heads toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into running. She does not want to look like she is scared that Valerius will grab her by the arm. If anything she is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t.

“My regards to the court,” she raises her hand and waves the glass in the air without looking back. Behind her there is a sound of paper being torn apart.

***

Ev only slows down when she reaches the main staircase.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she leans against the handrail. Again, what is she doing here? Why did she need to turn up in person when she could send a letter? Ev closes her eyes and rubs her fingers together as if feeling for answers in the whorls of her own skin, and remembers about the glass in her hand. Another bad decision. It would have been wiser to take the bottle.

She raises the glass to her lips and breathes in the wine. It’s pleasant. Perhaps she would prefer its company to the boring palace affairs too. Ev twists the glass in her hand, eying the smooth rim before drawing one long sip. It leaves a blush mark of her lips firmly planted on the surface which she studies for a few seconds. “You better be as angry as I am now”, she says to the dark liquid at the bottom of the glass.

[hoodoo12]

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 3/?

@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @mel-time @rainingpaint @infptarius @monsterlovinghours @turtlepated @strange-n-unbluusual @heresathreebee @sweetcat-666 @genderless-cryptid @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe

Monday at the archives went by uneventfully, though Pate did have some difficulty staying awake. She actually ended up going out to her car for her lunch hour and took a nap, the result being that she didn’t eat anything.

Pate was never quite sure these days what she might walk into when she opened her apartment door, but it was unusually quiet when she arrived home. “Beej?” she called out. He’d taken off once or twice before, taking care of she didn’t know what business she didn’t know where, but he’d usually be back before bedtime. Feeling a little more energized thanks to her nap but famished from her skipped meal, Pate changed into loungewear, scrubbed off her makeup, and started preparations for dinner. It didn’t take long, and she would ordinarily wait for Beetlejuice to return from his roaming but she was starved and quickly scarfed down her portion, keeping Beej’s helping warm with a foil tent over the plate.

Unsure what to do with herself with the specter gone, Pate curled up on the couch and put on an animal documentary to wait for him.

⁂

He worked it down to a system.

Find a crack, enlarge it enough to send a tentacle or two to start searching for the next one while he forced the rest of himself through. A few times he was slowed when the scouting tendrils took longer to find the next exit point, and once he was stymied because a crack was above the ‘window’. He had no idea if anyone on the other side of that mirror saw him, or what they thought as he shimmied up the inside of the glass like a striped spider right out of a nightmare.

As Beetlejuice expected, there was no rhyme or reason to any of this, and no way to determine where he was. He could have been halfway around the world or in the apartment next door to Pate’s. Nothing he saw when he looked out--and he looked out of every window--was familiar. Undeterred because he had nothing but time, he kept at it.

Just because he had time, though, didn’t mean he didn’t ache. He’d never worked his tentacles so long that they were sore, and his fingers felt more numb than not. He had no fingernails left and he could feel the scrapes on his face, left after he’d pushed through a hole that wasn’t quite large enough for him to get through.

Hours had to have passed. If he got to Pate’s mirror before she came home, Beej promised himself a rest. Till then, he pressed on.

It seemed a Sisyphean task, this endless clawing into the white space behind mirrors. Evilly, his brain started asking questions like, “how many mirrors were there in the world? What if he was going in a circle? What if Lillian had forced the illusion that he was making progress, when he was still just trapped in her one special mirror?” If he gave into those thoughts or despair, he’d be lost for good. Then, all at once, as he pressed his forehead to the inside of yet another pane of glass to look out, a piece of paper on the outside caught his eye. He’d been through plenty of mirrors that had photos stuck to them, but very few in a bathroom--with the same black and white striped shower curtain as in Pate’s! The photo had curled from the humidity. Around it was a smear of lipstick in the shape of a lopsided heart. She’d been so angry he’d used her favorite shade to add the decoration--with his finger, no less!--but she’d never wiped it away.

He couldn’t see the front of it, of course, but knew the photo: a spontaneous Polaroid shot on her balcony one evening during the golden hour, an old-school selfie taken just because. They’d both been laughing because it had taken time to line it up correctly and not just get hair or half of someone’s face. They’d wasted so much film trying to get a good one. The final shot was the two of them slightly turned towards each other, Pate’s forehead against his temple, her eyes closed and a wide grin on her face. His mouth was slightly open because he’d been caught mid-laugh, but he was smiling too. Both their arms were outstretched because they figured both of them holding the camera might work better. The tips of his hair were pink.

He was home.

Beetlejuice would have cried in relief if he wasn’t so tired. Now all he had to do was wait till Pate came into the bathroom, probably inadvertently scare the crap out of her, and get her to let him out.

⁂

She must have nodded off there on the couch because the next thing Pate knew she was startling awake, heart thumping in her throat. She’d been on the colorful road again in the foggy wood, running from she didn’t know what and towards she didn’t know where.

Pate rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands and sighed, swinging her legs to the floor. What she needed was a splash of cold water in her face. Rising to her feet, Pate stretched and squinted at the time on the cable box, noting that Beetlejuice still appeared to be absent. She frowned, slightly unsettled that he had yet to return home.

She padded to the bedroom and on to the bathroom, flipping on the lights. In the sudden brightness she was instantly aware of a figure in the medicine cabinet mirror that was not her own. The initial shock made her jump, but the oh-too-familiar green hair and striped suit made her huff a relenting half smile.

“Okay, Beej, that was a good one. You totally got me,” she said, turning to face him behind her only to find that the room was empty except for her. Brow furrowed, Pate took another moment to look around in case he was hiding and hoping for another shock but there was no sign of him. Turning back to the mirror, where his disembodied reflection still stood with a strange expression on his face, she flashed him a questioning look.

“What’s goin on, Bug?”

Looking more closely at him, Pate noticed that his already mussed hair looked even more awry than normal, and there were marks on his face. Growing concerned, Pate took a step closer, pressed against the counter to lean closer to the cabinet and the mirror with the growing suspicion that something was wrong.

⁂

Time still had no meaning here. He tried the same things on Pate’s mirror that he had in Lillian’s, pounding on the glass with fists and tentacles, to the same zero effect. He even did his best to simply wrench the glass from the wall, but unlike the odd cracks he’d found that was seamless, like it was one solid piece of material. Eventually he gave up and just waited. It was like being in a tomb. He’d had plenty of practice with that, although this was unending light and he could see a portion of the bathroom. That was almost worse torture than just laying in the dark. Pate had to enter here sometime, however. When she did, looking a little like she’d just woken up, it actually startled him. The light was blinding for a moment and he jumped. Pate did too, when she saw him there, and then tiredly derided him for the scare.

He shook his head and said, “No--Pate, baby, you gotta let me out!”

She didn’t see it. She had turned to look behind her as if expecting him to be there.

When she turned back around to face him, she looked confused. She asked him what was going on.

“Pate! Pate!” he shouted, the volume in his voice increasing. “I’m stuck here! I can’t get out, you’ve gotta let me out! I went to see Lillian and she trapped me in her mirror, and then I kept moving from mirror to mirror until I found yours--how long have I been gone? Let me out!” Beej watched her gaze shift from his eyes to his mouth, and realized with growing panic that one, she couldn’t hear him, and two, he just word vomited so much so quickly there was no way she was able to lip-read everything that spilled out of his mouth. He put one hand flat on the glass towards her and licked his lips to try again. Enunciating as best he could, voice still just one notch below yelling, Beetlejuice said, “Pate. I’m stuck. Stuck! Help me get out, baby!” He put his forehead on the glass. The fingers on his outstretched hand, the one pressed palm side to the interior of the glass, trembled as well. The specter lifted his eyes back to her. “Please,” he pleaded.

⁂

Ordinarily after pulling a scare on her, Beetlejuice would be preening like the cat that caught the canary, punctuated with nuzzles and kisses to her forehead and cheeks and statements that he simply couldn’t help himself, she looked so cute when he caught her off guard.

This time, though, he looked positively frantic. His eyes were wide and desperate, his hand pressed flush against the inside of the glass. Pate’s eyes narrowed as his lips moved but she couldn't hear him. She did her best to discern what he was saying by reading his lips, but even then she could only make out a few words.

She thought she caught him say the words “stuck” and “help”. She swallowed, feeling an apprehensive flutter in her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. He was scared, and anything that could scare Beetlejuice was something to be deeply concerned about.

Questions began forming in her mind; how had he gotten himself stuck in her mirror? How could she get him out? The first thought that occurred to her was breaking the mirror, but somehow that didn’t seem like a good plan. What if it hurt him or something?

‘Come on, think!’ she told herself, reaching up to press her hand over the spot where his was in the glass.

Nothing Lillian had taught her seemed to be of any use, it was all about how to keep spirits and specters away, not letting them loose. At that thought she wondered darkly if Lillian might have something to do with this.

“Beej,” she said slowly, in case he couldn’t hear her, too. “Did Lillian do this? Because if she did, I’ll go talk to her right now.”

If the older woman somehow sealed her demon lover away, surely she had the ability to release him, Pate reasoned. And if it meant finally coming clean about having Beetlejuice around, if Lillian refused to teach her anymore because of it, then so be it. She just had to get him out of there.

⁂

Pate putting her hand against his, unable to touch, felt like they were miles apart instead of separated by a layer of glass. He swallowed and ran his free hand through his hair, hoping it wasn’t betraying his rising panic with some odd color. She must have picked up something from his spill of words, because she hit on the person who had done this: her mentor. Beej nodded at her query, but Pate’s announcement that she was going to talk to the older woman right now made him pound a fist on his side of the glass in anger and fear. “Yes it was Lillian! But baby don’t--don’t leave me here!” he shouted. “Pate--!” Frustrated and increasingly worried she was going to follow through with her idea to go to Lillian’s right now, walking away from him after he’d clawed his way and only by chance ended up where he wanted to be, Beetlejuice continued to pound on the mirror. A terrifying thought skipped through his head: What if she went back to Lillian’s and he needed to be in Lillian’s mirror to be let out?!

He’d have to get back to the old woman’s apartment. Frantically he glanced in the direction he’d entered this space and to his ultimate fear, it was once again plain unending white. There was no broken seam, no evidence he’d ever been anywhere but where he was right now. That threw him into a state of even more panic, and without warning Pate, he stepped away from the window.

A tentacle immediately nosed the spot he thought he’d come in, but found nothing. His fingers found nothing. The seam he’d torn apart was nonexistent. He’d have to find another to try and leave this mirror, and who knew where that would take him. Where would he be? Could he find his way back to Lillian’s? A whine that he now knew Pate couldn’t hear escaped his lips. Beej pushed himself back to his feet and went back to the window. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered.

tbc . . .

[lovingllix]

Okay I have a chan request but this one is just like angst mainly or at first. So you’re in his studio because you brought food for him cuz he sometimes forgets and he’s just working and you try to convince him to take a break but he snaps at you and like some tears from you and he realises what he’s done and tries to stop you from leaving but you do anyways and yk fluff after. I know it’s a common concept but I literally just was like “hey, I wanna see a fic like this” and then I thought of your blog. Sorry it’s so long

[8:39pm]

you’re stood in the kitchen staring at your surplus of takeout menus, trying to decide what to order for yourself and chan. he’s been at the studio all day (and the day before), working his ass off for their next album release. you often bring him meals and water just to make sure he’s taking care of himself; sometimes he forgets to eat and comes home grumpy.

you decide on a little pad thai place down the road, call in your order, and get ready to leave. you definitely don’t look your best, but it doesn’t matter, no one’s going to see you but chan.

when you finally arrive at the studio, the receptionist points you in the direction of the recording room chan is using for the day. it’s not his usual one.

he definitely wasn’t happy with that.

if there’s anything you’ve learned about chan in the past year you’ve been dating, it’s that he doesn’t necessarily like change. he sticks to his own routine (although that routine isn’t very typical), and doesn’t like when things aren’t the way he planned.

you reach the door, knocking before opening the door. there sits chan, eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip tucked tightly in his teeth, clicking away at the mouse. his hair is halfway covered by his hood, his headphones are on and you can faintly hear the music playing and stopping as he pauses to think. he shoots you a glance and mumbles a greeting before getting right back to work. you set the food down on the desk, quietly sitting down on the black sofa behind chan, waiting for him to finish.

except he doesn’t finish.

he doesn’t stop working.

“chan?” you break the tense silence in the room.

he only hums a response.

“why don’t you take a break and eat? i brought pad thai, your favorite, from the place down the road.” this time he sighs, pausing the music and sliding his headphones off.

“let me just finish editing this one part and i’ll eat, okay? go ahead and eat yours, i’ll be done in a few.” he goes to put his headphones back on, but you stop him.

“chan, can’t you take ten minutes to eat with—“ he cuts you off, tossing his headphones haphazardly onto the desk.

“NO! i’m working, y/n, what don’t you understand about that?”

he’s never raised his voice at you before. just at the sheer volume and tone of his voice, tears well up in your eyes. he knows you’re sensitive to yelling— some personal things from your past led to that.

“wait, baby, i didn’t-“

before he can finish his sentence you’re slamming the door to the studio, rushing down the hallway with your head down, trying to hide the tears from anyone you may pass. he immediately saves his progress, forgetting everything he’d been trying to work on. he packs up his bag quickly and logs out of the computer before heading down to the lobby to let the receptionist know he was heading home.

he sprints the entire way to your apartment, using his spare key to unlock the door. but you’re not there. he searches the entire place. his first instinct is to call a friend of yours whose number you have posted on the refrigerator in case of an emergency. they pick up after two rings.

“hello?” obviously they’re confused at the unfamiliar number.

“hi, it’s chan, y/n’s boyfriend. listen i fucked up earlier, is y/n with you?” he tries his hardest to level his voice, but it breaks halfway through his sentence.

“no, i’m not even in town now. what happened?”

he explains rapidly, your friend hardly keeping up with his words. then it clicks.

the dorm, you idiot!

he quickly ends the call with your friend, heading straight to the dorm. he bursts through the door, stopping for a brief second to take off his shoes before dodging members and their questions to get to his room. you’re not in there either. it’s when he hears jisung’s voice that he finally realizes where you are. he slowly walks towards the door of jisung’s room, cracking it open slightly.

there you sit, leaning against the headboard of jisung’s bed while he simply sits with you in silence. you’re not crying, you don’t look sad, you look numb. jisung glances towards the door, seeing chan’s figure.

“chan, don’t,” jisung starts, cutting his eyes to your boyfriend. you stand, walking straight past chan into his own room. he follows closely behind. you sit on the edge of his bed, not wanting to get too comfortable. you weren’t planning on staying long anyway.

“y/n, i’m so s—“

“you didn’t have to yell,” you whisper, afraid your voice would break if you spoke any louder. chan looks down at his hands.

“i know, i’m so sorry. love, if i’m honest, i know i haven’t been the best recently. i know you’re looking out for me and i let my stubbornness get the better of me today. truth is, i’d be nothing if i didn’t have you.”

you let a lone tear slide down your cheek.

“why did it take you so long to get here?” you ask, assuming he stayed in the studio to finish working. he chuckles, dropping his gaze.

“well...i thought you went home, then you weren’t there, i panicked, called your friend, panicked again, and came straight here. but i promise i left right after you. i couldn’t let myself finish working knowing i hurt you the way i did.”

he seems to get a rush of inspiration from your conversation. suddenly he rushes over to his small desk, picking up a pen and his notebook (he prefers a notebook to his phone when writing lyrics, he says it’s “more sentimental”). you stay seated on his bed, not exactly sure what to do as you’re still shaken up by what happened last time you interrupted him.

he extends an arm towards you, motioning for you to come closer.

“come here, love. i need my muse.”

your eyes brighten as you skip to sit on his lap, snuggling into his neck comfortably.

you’re his muse.

he strokes through your hair as he writes, and you can hear him whispering lyrics to himself.

soon enough, you’re asleep in his arms, just where you like to be.

-

ha! told ya it would be up today!

it’s very long and kinda rushed in places but i hope you like it! as usual i’m so sorry it took so long 💕

[katie-writes24]

Cursed Blessings - Chpt.2

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: Language, angst, suggestive material, misunderstandings and bad researched background of job titles.

Chpt. 1 ~ Chpt.3

Wow, I don't like how I wrote this part at all. But bare with me, I swear we’re getting somewhere...eventually. The plot line is there, it’s just...coming together slowly. I hope yall will continue to read this series, if you could call it that? So yeah, I apologize for the rusty chapter. Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy!

Three years later

Flying made him nervous. It was just a big box floating in the air, and it was unsettling to think there was nothing but clouds around him. 

The stewardess was shooting him concerning looks as Thomas kept ordering alcohol. He doesn’t blame her, but it wasn’t like he was going to become a loose drunk, especially not when he’s so anxious to get on the ground. 

New York was not his favorite place to be, especially not in the winter. Bustling traffic, tourists looking for a white Christmas, and Thomas was just trying to keep this branch under control. Washington said that they were still new, that the office needed someone who was ‘experienced.’ 

As if the years of keeping his office door shut, retorting quickly, and even making an employee cry was considered “experienced.”

Maybe he’s been a little more preoccupied with work than usual, but it’s been busy. There was a lot to do, always time to work. Call him a workaholic, but you could never call him lazy. Thomas was productive when it came to his job, never one to let anyone else step over how much dedication he put into his work. 

But this is where he’d stay for now at least. His temporary penthouse was near a bar and a coffee shop, which he figured he would be spending a lot of time at both. As soon as he landed, he got a cab and moved his stuff in. Two hours later after a visit to the store, he was on the couch in his pajamas, eating and watching terrible tv dramas. 

And that was pretty much the next two days. New York was just like any other city he’s visited, it was nothing special. He was perfectly fine with lounging around until he needed to go in for work. 

That was until he ran out of his basic necessities, and was forced to throw on pants to go outside. There wasn’t a supermarket far from his place, and given it was late on a Sunday night, it was pretty quiet. 

Thomas roamed the aisles slowly, and thought about how exhausting the next couple of months were going to be. He wasn’t one to volunteer to practically train an entire office floor, neither was he sure that he could do it patiently. Hence he had an enclosed office back in Virginia where he could keep to himself. If the workers back home could barely do their job, surely these people couldn’t either.

Lost in his thoughts, he turned the corner and almost knocked over a small child. His hand automatically reached out to stop her from falling. But she just looked up at him with wide eyes and smiled as if he didn’t almost run her over. Thomas was about to walk around, but she held her hand up, showing off a small rocket.

Thomas slowly took the toy from her, gesturing towards it and shrugging. “Very nice.”

She grinned at his approval, and Thomas didn’t even know if she could understand him. 

There was a loud shout behind him, and before he could turn around-

“Sorry, she just got out of my sight for a second.”

Well, Thomas could recognize that voice anywhere.

Y/N still looked the same, but her hair was a bit shorter now. Those sharp eyes always made him catch his breath. But how she looked at him now, Thomas didn’t know what to think.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

They just stared at each other for what felt like hours. He didn’t mind it, because he didn’t know what he was going to say if he pulled his eyes away. However, there was some babbling and then something hit his leg. Thomas completely forgot about the toddler at his feet.

“Sorry,” Y/N walked around him and picked her up. And he could see it now.

The matching eyes, except hers were much brighter. They have the same mole just below their jaw, and their noses have the same little curve. 

And how could he miss those curls?

His heart caught in his throat.

“She’s pretty fast...I can’t keep up with her sometimes,” Y/N sighs as she avoids his eyes.

“It’s fine…” Thomas can’t take his eyes off her.

“You’re staring?”

He blinked and looked between the two. Clearing his throat, he couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “You have a daughter.”

Perhaps he said it too excitedly, but Y/N looked almost sad. Like she didn’t have a gift, that they didn’t have a gift. Something Thomas only dreamed about when they were together.

“I do...” Y/N brushed her daughter’s hair back. It looked so domestic, so loving, Thomas almost reached out and did the same. 

“What...uh, what’s her nam-”

“Thomas, why are you in New York?” 

Right, Thomas wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be going to this branch, he wasn’t supposed to fly in on a Friday and he wasn’t supposed to be at the store right now. He shouldn’t be so giddy about this discovery.

“For work. I, uh, I have to visit a new branch in the city tomorrow.” 

She nodded slowly, almost as if she was trying to sense if he was telling the truth. 

“What about you? What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” 

That was understandable; it’s a big city, he knew that she had some friends from college living in the city. Thomas also knew why she would want to get out of Virginia, out of the town. 

“Cora.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Her name...it’s Cora,” Y/N didn’t look at him, instead looking at her daughter like she was the entire world. She now had her head tucked into Y/N’s neck and staring at him with tired eyes.

As Thomas repeated her name, the air seemed to thicken with tension. He had so many questions, he just wanted to know what Y/N was up to now, how this happened, when it happened? But he couldn’t ask in the middle of an aisle at the store. 

“Do you think we could sit down somewhere? Maybe grab a coffee or something?”

“I, uh...I don’t think that’s a good idea, Thomas.” Her grip tightened on her shopping basket as her eyes grew wide.

“Wait, Y/N, please-”

“I gotta go.” And just like that, Thomas lost her again. The only thing remaining was the toy rocket in his hand.

~~~

“You’re back! You won’t believe the shit I just heard.”

Y/N put Cora down and watched her waddle towards the kitchen. She had been crying the whole car ride home; after an entire car search, Y/N couldn’t find her toy and she wasn’t going to go back to the store to see if she left it.

Y/N couldn’t let herself do that.

“Yeah, well you won’t believe what just happened either.”

Closing the door, she followed her daughter inside and set the bags down. She walked in to see her sitting on the counter, a popsicle already in her hand.

“Dude, seriously?” Y/N put a hand to her hip. “I was just about to start dinner.”

“Relax, she’s fine.” A hand swept through her hair as Y/N tried to stop the sticky mess running down Cora’s arm. “As I was saying, do you believe some stuck up southerner is going to sit in as management tomorrow? You believe that? As if he can waltz right in and make some changes. Who does he think he is?”

“I think you’re being a bit dramatic,” The amount of stories that Y/N had heard the last months of idiotic lawyers and disobedient clients were a bit overreacted. 

“Believe me, I would never over exaggerate anything when it comes to my job.”

It made Y/N pause, for a second she even thought Cora could understand how ridiculous it sounded.

“Anyways, there is no way that I’m going to sit back and let him take over,” She was sure that her of course you won’t comment was ignored. “But I don’t know how it will affect my schedule.”

“Don’t stress, I’ll find someone to watch Cora when I’m out.” 

“You know I would but-”

“It’s fine, Alexander.”

The man straightened at her tone, but nodded nevertheless. He moved around the counter to the fridge. “So, what was it you were going to say?”

Right.

“You won’t believe who I just saw…”

Alexander turned, wide eyed and careful to note her far off look. It could have been a list of people; there had been lots of promising moments ever since Y/N came to New York, lots of friends made, lots of sites seen. However, there were also a lot of complications, lots of threatening emails sent, lots of pressure she was under. 

And as her whole mood seemed to stutter into a daze, Alexander could connect the dots easily. 

After all, it was the same look she had months into her pregnancy. Months after she left. Months after she stopped getting phone calls. Months after she stopped caring about him.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

Jefferson Taglist:  @notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @astralaffairs @daveeddiggsit @ramp-it-up @ohsoverykeri-blog @i-know-i-can @tinywhim

[ctay21]

I am so excited to participate in @nakunakunomi 750 followers event! Hazel is such an amazing and inspiring writer, if you haven’t read any of her works you need to check her blog out! This was so much fun to write. Honestly it’s really just a self indulgent fic, but I hope you guys can love it and find comfort in it like I can! 😌❤️

Also I’m posting this on mobile and don’t know how to add the keep reading break... 🙈 so sorry!

Comfort Cookies

Word count: 2,103

Relationship: Sanji x female reader

Warnings: mentions of a nightmare

Cliche prompt: I don’t usually share food, but I’ll make an exception for you.

Random Word to include: sentence

Summary: You wake up from a nightmare and try your best to comfort yourself. Sanji eventually finds you and helps you calm down and get into a better head space and mood.

You bolted up out of a dead sleep, covered in a light sheen of sweat. Sanji's arm fell off your shoulder and softly landed in your lap. You grabbed at your chest because your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to fly out. You couldn’t even register any sounds beyond the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums.

Bringing a hand up to wipe your forehead and face. You realize that you woke up crying. Taking big deep breaths to try and calm yourself and stop your body from shaking. You look over to Sanji to see if you woke him up. He’s still peacefully sleeping with a small smile on his face. Not wanting to wake him up but knowing you needed to calm down, you decided to take a walk up on deck.

Carefully sliding out of Sanji's grasp and out of bed. You grab one of Sanji's hoodies and slip it on before quietly opening the door and stepping into the hall. Turning around you make sure the door shuts and clicks before heading off for your walk.

Once you get up on deck headed for the railing to look out into the sea. You look around to make sure no one is around or can see you. Confirming you’re alone, you start quietly sobbing and curl in on yourself. Constant negative thoughts rolling through your head. You’re not good enough to be a part of the crew. You don’t deserve to be on the crew. You’re the weakest link. They would be better off without you constantly dragging them down. Sanji is only with you to make sure you don’t get killed by an enemy. Sanji would be better off with someone who was more on his level. All these horrible thoughts kept running through your head and you couldn’t stop them, nor could you stop the flow of tears streaming down your face.

With no concept of time after what felt like hours of crying and feeling bad for yourself, realistically it was only twenty minutes. You thought to yourself that you were done throwing a pity party for your feelings! You started saying affirming sentences out loud to the sea, hoping to bring up your mood and banish all the negative thoughts rolling in your mind.

“I am strong.”

“I am confident in my ability to help my crew.”

“My friends love me and do not see me as a burden.”

“Sanji loves me unconditionally no matter what.”

“I am a Straw Hat Pirate and no one can take that away from me!”

Taking a deep cleansing breath, you felt much better after saying all that out loud. Finally calm enough to head back to bed, you turn around and start heading to your shared bedroom with sanji. As you’re walking your stomach rumbles and you quietly giggle to yourself because only you would cry so hard that you made yourself hungry. Turning around you head to the kitchens deciding to make a comfort snack before heading back to bed.

Feeling like you wanted a tiny bit more comfort and were feeling a little nostalgic. You step into the kitchen and decide that you wanted to make your grandma’s chocolate chip cookies that your mom always made you on rough days when you were a kid.

While the oven is preheating. You walk through the pantry grabbing all the necessary ingredients like flour, sugar, eggs and chocolate. You head to the table and get to work. Taking your time weighing out all the ingredients and mixing the dough. Giggling you put the last ingredient in which is your grandma's “secret ingredient” it’s cinnamon but the way she always said it made you laugh. Scooping out the dough, you put it on a sheet tray and into the oven. Setting a timer and cleaning your dishes.

Once the kitchen was clean, your cookies still had 10 minutes left till they were done. Too tired to stand any longer, you sit down in front of the oven door to watch the cookies bake and slowly spread. When all of a sudden you see legs on either side of you and feel arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong chest.

“(Y/n) I finally found you.” Sanji whispered into your ear. Hearing Sanji’s voice made you relax and let out the breath you had involuntarily held in.

“Oh my gosh! You scared me!” You yell whispered to him as you smacked his arm.

“What?! First off, you scared me when I woke up and you weren’t there. Your side of the bed was cold and I searched the whole deck for ten minutes before I noticed the light on in here and came to check.” He ranted but you could tell it was out of love and there was no heat behind his words.

“I’m sorry… I.. um.. woke up from a bad nightmare.. I guess I just felt like I needed to work through it on my own.. I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you up..” You quietly muttered, hanging your head down while fidgeting with your hands. Sanji gently cups your face with both hands and turns you so you're facing him.

“Hey, you will never bother me or make me mad if you wake me up. I don’t care what time it is or what’s happening around us. You’re hurting and I want to be there to help in any way that I can. I love you (y/n), nothing will change that.” He gently said while pressing his forehead to yours.

“Okay.” You exhale, staying in this position. As you tell him about your nightmare and all the negative thoughts that sometimes plague your mind at night. He just listens to you explain your nightmare and fears, occasionally giving you a comforting squeeze. Once you were done you looked up at him and smiled softly.

“Thank you for listening to me babe, I love you too and you’re right I’m sorry. I’ll wake you up next time.” You shakily spoke through the new lump in your throat. Sanji moved your head back to look into your eyes and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, no need to be sorry! I will always be here to listen to you and comfort you. Also I love hearing I’m right, you need to start saying that more often.” He joked, mainly trying to lift your spirits and make you laugh.

“Stop! You’re so ridiculous sometimes.” You giggle while rolling your eyes at him and shaking your head.

Hearing the timer go off, you got super excited for your cookies! You shoved Sanji to the side and stood up real fast to grab the cookies out of the oven before they could burn. Setting the cookies on top of the oven, you turned it off and turned around to proudly show off your cookies to your boyfriend. Not immediately seeing him standing behind you like you expected, you look down to see he is still laying on the ground with a hurt expression on his face.

“What?!” You wondered, thinking you didn’t shove him that hard.

“(Y/n)... you come into MY kitchen and bake cookies at two in the morning.. then you have the audacity to shove me.. I’m just hurt! I can’t believe my precious (y/n) would do this to me.” Sanji exclaimed while fake crying still sprawled out on the floor.

“Ohh clam down, I cleaned the kitchen. Besides I didn’t even push that hard. You’re being dramatic, get up.” You spoke as you impatiently poked at your cookies to see if they were cool enough to eat.

“So what did my lovely (y/n) make me?” He sang as he got off the floor and stood behind you and looked over your shoulder.

“I made myself chocolate chip cookies. I made you a clean kitchen, so you didn’t have dishes to do in the morning before breakfast.” You playfully say to him, as you poke him in the chest then cross your arms.

“What!! I don’t even get to taste one of your cookies?!?!” He exclaimed.

“Yea I don’t like sharing, you know that.” You simply stated back to him.

“(Y/n) that is so unfair. Also you have 12 jumbo cookies. I know you’re only going to eat one! Please let me have one.” He begged.

“I don’t usually share food, but I’ll make an exception for you.” You smiled at him, giggling at his reaction.

“Here’s your cookie.” You mutter still pretending like you didn’t want to share.

You watched as Sanji took his first bite. He got a huge smile on his face, heart eyes and everything. He then looked down at you.

“(Y/n)... I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again. These are amazing! Where did you learn how to make these?” He excitedly said.

“It’s an old family recipe, my grandma taught me how to make them. My mom always made them for me on rough days, when she knew I needed a pick me up.” You explained to him.

“Something tastes different, whats all in here?” He asked trying to figure out why they tasted different than normal chocolate chip cookies.

“Well it is a family recipe, with a secret ingredient. I’m not telling you. I’m sure you could figure it out pretty quickly though.” You stated as you continued to eat your warm cookie.

Sanji just started rattling off different ingredients it could be, they were all off the wall crazy stuff as well. Once even asking if it was tuna. At this point you’re just laughing because you know he’s making up the most wild guesses he can to purposefully make you laugh.

“Okay, but on a real note. Is it cinnamon?” Sanji asked while hugging you from behind.

“Fine you got me, yes it is cinnamon. Do you want the recipe?” You asked as you turned around and buried your face in his chest letting out a huge yawn.

“Yea, but I’ll get it from you tomorrow because it looks like we need to get someone to bed.” Sanji said as he poked your cheek.

“Carry me?” You asked as you raised your arms up around his neck and gave him your best puppy dog face.

“Anything for you princess, come on let’s get you to bed.” He whispered while picking you up so you could still be hugging him, dangling your feet on each side of him. He started carrying you out of the kitchen, making sure to turn all the lights off as he went. He almost got off the deck when he saw zoro off to the side.

“Hey, did you guys just come from the kitchen. I thought I smelled cookies being baked.” Zoro asked while walking up to you two.

“Yea, but (y/n) doesn’t share with Mossheads! So you can’t have any!” Sanji yelled at zoro, while still walking away, not even bothering to stop and talk to him.

“Don’t listen to him Zoro. They’re on a plate on the table, please help yourself.” You whisper yelled to him pretending Sanji couldn’t hear you.

“Thanks (y/n), you’re my favorite baker!” Zoro called out right before Sanji walked through the door to the inside of the ship.

Sanji chose to ignore both you and Zoro for the time being, choosing to walk the rest of the way in silence. When he reached your shared bedroom. He walked in and laid you down on the bed, climbing in after you and pulling you close to his chest. After a few minutes of cuddling right before you felt yourself about to drift off. You felt his fingers brush your hair back and tuck it behind your ear. You looked up and made eye contact.

“(Y/n), you seriously deserve to be on this crew. You are so strong and amazing, and you help us so much. The crew wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. I love you.” Sanji whispered before pulling you close and giving you a soft sweet kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, I love you too.” You spoke just as softly as you pressed your forehead against his and fell into a deep peaceful sleep, feeling deeply loved.

[siren1song]

Merman Dee AU, Anxceit, shell

Me, lover of mermaids: OH WORM??

Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @demidork84

Sea Life

Virgil didn’t like being on land too much. He preferred the open sea, the rocking of a ship under his feet and the salty air blasting his face as he moved around on deck. Preferred hearing his shipmates laughing and singing and working as they sailed, looking for a rich man’s ship to raid, or a village to plunder.

He supposed land had something to offer though, with its pretty greenery and… shops? Maybe?

Listen, Virgil hated going on supply runs when they couldn’t find another ship to raid and take their stock. Like sure, he was good at figuring out how much they’d need to last for a while but being on the sea was so much better than the unsettling stillness of the earth under his feet.

At least he was done with scouting where they needed to hit. He’d taken a week, only spending money on his Inn room, and he was packing up now to get back to the ship so the rest of the crew could pillage and have their fun while he recovered from being on land for too long.

Virgil was shoving clothes into a burlap sack he carried with him everywhere when he went on land, not really caring about being neat or careful with how he got them in there until he heard a thunk and his heart dropped.

Was that..?

He dropped the sack, getting on his knees to dig around in the clothes still on the floor. There was a frantic search for a moment, Virgil holding his breath until he moved a dark colored shirt and a flash of pale cream caught his eye.

Sagging in relief, he picked up the frog shell, fingers brushing over the brown spots decorating it.

Virgil remembered getting this, remembered the man who had given it to him. He wished he could see him again, wished he could give him the kiss he’d always wanted to.

“I want you to have this.”

Virgil looked up from the shell, more confused than he had been when Dee had handed it to him.

“What? It’s just a shell, Dee.”

Dee frowned at that, shifting on the rock he’d chosen to rest on while Virgil sat cross-legged in the sand of the small island next to it.

“No, it’s… important. In ways I doubt you can understand. I won’t try and explain, but if you really think we won’t be able to see each other again I want you to have it.”

Virgil looked back to the shell, turning it over in his hands and admiring the strength he could clearly feel.

“I do really think that. I wish it wasn’t true, I l-” he stopped, clearing his throat for a second as he closed his eyes, “care, about you. I enjoy your company quite a bit. But my captain grows suspicious of my constant leaving of the ship, especially with my usual hatred of being on land.”

Dee was quiet for a moment, then he slid off the rock, tail curling under him in the sand. He put his webbed hand on Virgil’s jaw, gently directing his head towards him so he could look the mer in the eyes, stark yellow and pupils slitted unnaturally.

“I care about you too.”

“Virgil!”

Virgil jumped, nearly dropping the shell in his hands as he whipped his head in the direction of the door, seeing Patton standing there with a bright grin and heaving chest.

“Are you ready? The captain is getting impatient, he wants to set fire to the town and you’re still here with the information for which shops have the best quality supplies!”

He huffed out a laugh, carefully setting the shell into his sack before shoving the rest of his clothes in on top of it.

“Yeah I’m ready, sick of being on land,” he said, pushing up from the floor so he could follow Patton out of the inn.

They ran through the empty dirt cobblestone streets, the bottoms of their shoes (or feet, in Patton’s case) slapping against the stone as they made their way to the docks.

Virgil’s excitement grew when he saw the sea, and then more as he clambered into the boat that would take them to the Mind Palace, a ship that wasn’t yet recognizable but would be, under Captain Sanders’ command.

When they were next to the ship, Patton got ready to call for being brought up, stopping only when he saw the look on Virgil’s face.

“Sometimes, Virgil, I think you love the sea more than anyone else who has ever chosen life on the water,” he said, smiling as Virgil laughed.

“Quite literally born on the water, Pat, I think my love of the ocean is warranted. Come on, let’s get us up on the ship, I’m ready to share my information and then sleep for a fortnight.”

Patton laughed himself, calling up for the two on the ship waiting for them to raise them up to lower the ropes.

“Two days for every one you were on land, as usual. Honestly, Virge, I’d think you were siren yourself if I wasn’t so thoroughly acquainted with your mother.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, helping Patton get the boat ready to go up. It was still weird for him to think that his friend knew his mother so well, especially since Virgil barely remembered her.

It wasn’t much longer until he was back on the ship, taking a moment to cherish the rocking under his feet, breathing in the sea air and the wind blowing through his hair.

“You belong on the water.”

Virgil jumped, turning towards the unfamiliar voice and yelping when he saw the man on the edge of the boat he was standing in.

It was clear the man wasn’t human, with his webbed fingers and finned ears. What was catching Virgil the most off guard was the glowing yellow eyes, pupils sporting a cats eye slit. 

“What?” he asked, confused by the jumble of feelings in chest. 

He couldn’t tell if he was afraid or in love, but his heart was pounding in his chest and this mer was beautiful.

The merman smirked, tilting his head to the side as his eyes went from the unnatural purple hues in Virgil’s hair, down to his torso where thin lines he was born with decorated his ribs under his shirt (how he knew to stop there, Virgil was unsure), then down to his legs.

“I suppose I should rephrase. You belong in the water.”

Virgil gave a disbelieving laugh, sitting back down as he stared at the mer.

“Are you a siren after my heart and life? Or simply a mer after my flesh?”

The man scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I am a siren, but I hold no interest in feeding myself with you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be relieved or offended. Am I not to your tastes, siren?”

The siren lifted an eyebrow, looking over his body again.

“Tell me, pirate, have you ever wondered why you naturally had a shade of color in your hair that other human’s never had?”

Virgil hummed, removing the shiv he had hidden in his boot so he could play with it between his hands. A simultaneous warning and fidget. 

“I have, but it’s never been something that’s bothered me. I know how to hide it, whatever it may mean, and it does nothing but look pretty.”

The siren nodded, resting his chin over his arms as he watched Virgil.

“I suppose, if it doesn’t bother you, I won’t push,” he commented, earning a look of befuddlement from Virgil.

“I wasn’t aware there was something to push.”

The siren shrugged, but didn’t give Virgil any more than that.

With a sigh, Virgil let it drop. He was sure he didn’t want to know anyway. Sirens were known for telling men what they wanted to hear to lure them to their deaths, so it was for the best anyway.

“Do you have a name?” he asked, cleaning the dirt from under his nails with the shiv, glancing up only when the silence after his question stretched just a bit too long.

“I do. Are you sure you want to know it, pirate?”

Virgil hummed in thought, pressing the tip of the shiv to the tip of his finger.

“I think I do. You’re a beautiful man, siren or no, it’d be a shame not to at least learn your name.”

The siren lifted his head, staring at Virgil with wide eyes the unnatural glow they were giving off in the dark seeming to get brighter as his face began to glow a soft yellow.

“…My name is… complicated to share, in its entirety in human languages. But you can call me Dee.”

He smiled, looking up at the stars.

“Dee, hm? My name is Virgil.”

“Virgil? Are you okay?” Patton asked, waving a hand in front of Virgil’s face and making him jerk back in surprise.

“Huh?”

Patton’s concerned expression deepened, looking at Thomas who Virgil only just realized was standing in front of him with an equally concerned look.

“You haven’t been responding to us for the last few minutes, and Thomas here has definitely been trying to talk to you.”

Virgil flushed, rubbing at the side of his neck and avoiding looking Thomas in the eye.

“Sorry Captain, just relieved to be back on the water.”

Thomas nodded, though he didn’t look like he believed the lie. Which was fair, Virgil wouldn’t have believed it either.

Dee would be disappointed.

“Alright. I just need the list of locations, Virgil, and you can rest, though you’ll have to stay on deck, Logan played with something that made him sick again and Roman is taking care of him so they can’t keep watch like usual.”

Virgil nodded, listing the places he found that the crew should focus on raiding, already eyeing the railing on the far side of the ship where there was rope coiled for him to sit in.

It took an hour before Virgil was alone again, sitting against railing of the ship and staring up at the stars.

He missed looking at the night sky with Dee. The siren often had something interesting to say about whatever new thing he found that fascinated him. Virgil had fun, misleading him about whatever he’d shown him, laughing when Dee would catch on that he was lying through his teeth about the use of a fork he’d found or a rusty candle holder, likely retrieved from a shipwreck.

“I see you still stare at the stars as if you want to join them,” a familiar voice said, making Virgil straighten from his slouched position, turning towards the voice with wide eyes and-

“Dee!” he shouted, a grin spreading on his face that quickly dropped in concern as he looked around the ship.

Logan and Roman may be below deck, but Virgil still worried about the siren getting caught.

Dee rolled his eyes, heaving himself up until he was sitting on the ship wall, tail leaving a puddle of water on the deck beneath him.

“Oh don’t worry so much Virgil, I can take care of myself.”

Virgil looked back at the siren, letting out a small laugh because yeah, that was true.

“Yes, I remember watching you take on a massive shark for fun. Still, what are you doing here? It’s been years since we’ve last seen each other, I’d figured you’d forgotten me by now.”

Dee went quiet, looking up at the stars- a habit he seemed to pick from Virgil, since he himself did that whenever he needed to think.

“I could never forget you, Virgil. You may be a pirate, but you’re still... I still love you, even if I never told you that to your face.”

Virgil’s breath hitched, unable to respond as he looked at Dee with wide eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why now. Well...” Dee looked down at him, smile soft, “would you like to learn something new about yourself?”

Virgil hesitated, standing from the deck so he could be level with Dee’s eyes as he thought.

“If you’re the one showing me? I suppose that couldn’t be a bad thing.”

Dee snorted, rolling his eyes as Virgil grinned.

“You’re a sap, Virgil.”

“I’m a romantic, Dee. Though don’t tell anyone. My crew mates will get insufferable if they learn that.”

Dee smiled softly, holding out a hand, an offer for Virgil to take.

Why did Virgil feel like if he took it, his entire life would change?

“Kiss me, Virgil. Let me taste you.”

Dee’s voice was soft, and Virgil felt as if his heart would burst from his chest at the request.

He didn’t even think twice, taking Dee’s hand in his own and surging forward, pressing his lips to the siren’s in a passion he wasn’t known to give anything but the sea.

Dee wrapped his free arm around him, his hand shifting to his wrist as they kissed and he held Virgil close.

And then they were free falling to the water, Virgil not even able to hold his breath before he was submerged.

Honestly, he hoped Dee had a reason for this. He hoped he wasn’t being betrayed someone he loved, not again at least.

“Relax, Virgil, I promise if you open your eyes you’ll see that you’re fine.”

How was he able to hear Dee’s voice so clearly?

Why weren’t his lungs burning? Why wasn’t he drowning?

“Open your eyes, love.”

Virgil opened his eyes as Dee asked, first seeing the siren’s apologetic face.

“Sorry for the shock, it needed to happen for the change.”

“Change?”

Virgil had spoken without thinking, and it had taken a moment for him to recover from the shock of water filling his throat. But it hadn’t hurt and it was gone with a bizarre push coming from his ribs.

“Look down, Virgil, really,” Dee teased, laughter ringing in his tone.

He always did find Virgil’s confusion amusing.

Virgil looked down.

At first, he didn’t know what he  was supposed to be seeing. There was Dee’s pale yellow tail, swishing lazily in the water, skin shimmering in the moonlight reaching into the sea. It was something Virgil loved to look at.

And then he saw the dark purple sheen underneath him, fear spiking until he realized it was connected to his waist.

He had a tail.