#meet the authour

[cupidsdescendant]

｡ ⋆˚⋆୨♡୧⋆｡Welcome to my blog!⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆

Hi loves! I'd like to quickly link all of my official accounts if you'd like to see my other works/know it's me VVV (Rules about submissions at the bottom of the post) ***MATERLIST IN PROGRESS***

Art Account: @aphroditecouture💋🍓

Wattpad🍮🎀

A03🧸☁️

Okay, back to my about me! Hiya! Like I said my is Maraschino but I also go by Nic (or Nicki). I am a pansexual demigirl ⋅₊˚. ଓ(she/it) I enjoy writing oneshots or chaptered stories about fandoms I enjoy!

I am biracial (wasian) and I'm obsessed with Pink, sanrio, RE-MENTS, Bratz, Monster High, Bimbos, Gyarus, Dirty Y2k, Playboy, fashion dolls, nu metal, goth, punk, emo, and scene culture!! ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

Hyperfixations:

Team Fortress 2:

currently my biggest most down bad fixation, I love, love, L💗VE tf2. My favorite characters are..well..all of them! But I count Scout, Medic, Heavy, and Sniper as my Husband's <33 I write mostly TF2 fanfiction and that is my general audience.

Bioshock (1, 2, and Infinite):

One of my favorite games of all time,,, I have an intense love for Bioshock <3 My favorite characters are Sander Cohen and the Lutece Twins! Favorite game has to be Bioshock 1 but Infinite most nostalgic.

RULES FOR SUBMISSIONS/REQUESTS

Things I WILL write:

FLUFF, SMUT/NSFW (18+), ANGST, SHIPS, ONESHOTS, LONG STORIES

Things I WILL NOT write:

AGE PLAY/DDLG, NSFW OF MINORS, INCEST, PEDOPHILIA, ANY HOMOPHOBIC/TRANSPHOBIC PROPAGANDA, RACISM/SEXISM

please be patient, as I'm battling some mental stuff and things get very draining. I appreciate all of the submissions I get, I'll be making a master list soon ^____^ Thank you for the patients my little cupids! Mwah!

-Love, Maraschino XOXO

[jamdoughnutmagician]

From Me to You.

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:Eddie finds a love letter pushed through his locker, and he’s determined to find out who his secret admirer is.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, just tooth-rotting Valentine’s day fluff! Slight use of "y/n" sorry I couldn't escape it!!

Word Count:1,867

Authour’s Note:My life is so devoid of any kind of romance, so I though what better way to resolve that than to write some cutesy Valentine’s Day fic with everyone’s favourite metal-head? Maybe I'm posting this a little early, but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out (since I suck at writing fluff) and I wanted to share it!

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie, oh no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. However, having to admit to your crush on your best friend? Well that was a whole other story.

So, your big plan was to leave little secret admirer notes in Eddie’s locker in the week leading up to Valentine’s day on Friday. It was an easy way to confess your love to him, without the sting of rejection coming to bite you in the ass.

The Monday after your last class you waved Eddie goodbye as he made his way to the drama room where the Hellfire club would be meeting for their latest campaign. Although you didn't share his love of Dungeons and Dragons, you were still as close as friends could be, only you didn't want to be just his friend.

Waiting for him to disappear out of sight, you look around to check the coast is clear before you slip the hand-written note into his locker. Pushing the folded up piece of paper through the vented slats in his locker, you make your way out of the school. 

All you have to do now is just have to wait until tomorrow to find out if your little secret mission was successful.

_______

Eddie strolled into school that Tuesday morning, opening up his locker to put away his things, but as he did so, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. Piquing his curiosity, he bent down to pick up the paper. Unfolding it carefully his eyes scanned over the nice hand-written message inside.

Your smile is my favourite thing and it brightens my day 

He glances at the swirling joined up writing and how the little hearts dot the I’s and he finds his face warming with a blush.

“What’ve you got there then, Ed?”  Gareth asks noisily, causing the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin to turn their heads to their lead guitarist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie says defensively as he stuffed the note in his pocket.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Gareth dropped the subject and they guys went about the rest of their school day.

_______

The next day, Eddie goes to open his locker and surprisingly another note falls at his feet. 

Quickly he bends to pick it up before anyone notices that he’s received another note. Unfolding the paper he reads the message.

You give me butterflies

He reasons that it must be the same person that it was from yesterday, because the handwriting is exactly the same and the I’s are still dotted adorably with the same little hearts.

As quick as his hopes get up at the thought of someone writing him little love notes,his thoughts are pulled in the direction that this must be some sort of prank. It had to be, right? Why else would anyone leave the school’s ‘freak’ sweet notes like this if not for some kind of twisted joke. 

Jason Carver and his gang probably thought the idea that someone might have a crush on Eddie, laughable. Yeah, he thinks to himself, that sounds more plausible.

Speak of the devil.

Jason and his crew make their way past him laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Right, that's it. 

Eddie stormed up to Jason, poking an accusing finger in his face.

“I bet you think this is really funny, don’t you Carver?” 

“What do you want, freak?” Jason barks out.

“You, leaving those little notes in my locker.” Eddie jabs.

Eddie looks at Jason for a moment, a look of genuine confusion gracing the features of the basketball player, his brows knitted together, before he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

“In your dreams, Munson” Jason laughs in his face as he pushes past Eddie. 

Okay…So maybe this wasn’t a joke. Well who was sending Eddie anonymous love letters?

_______

I want to hold your hands and kiss your face

Another day, another note. Eddie was still none the wiser as to who exactly was putting these love letters in his locker. Right, he thought to himself, he was going to need some help if he had any chance of finding out who this secret admirer of his was. 

Strolling through the doors of Family video, Eddie had decided to recruit the help of the only person he could think that would actually be of any help to him. Even if it did mean that he would have to show all the notes he’d received with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You’ve been getting anonymous love letters put in your locker?” Steve asks

“Well..yeah?” Eddie answers.

“...And you’re absolutely sure you have no idea who this is?” Steve presses.

“Well at one point I thought Carver was doing it, you know, for a joke..but I confronted him about it yesterday and that turned out about as well as you can imagine” Eddie explains

“Do you have some that you want it to be?” Steve quizzes, as he watches the metal-head’s expression change instantly, flushing scarlet rising from his chest to his cheeks and the tips of his nose. “Aha!” -Steve exclaims, jabbing his finger towards Eddie- “So you are thinking of someone then?”

Luckily, Eddie was saved from the embarrassment of admitting to his crush on one of his best friends by Robin interrupting his and Steve’s conversation.

“What are you two dorks gabbing about over there?” She shouts making her way from the back of Family video where she was rearranging a stack of horror films.

“Munson here has got himself a secret admirer.” Steve says, cocking his thumb towards Eddie. “Said he’s been getting these little love notes slipped in his locker” Steve continues with his teasing.

“Oooh!! Let me see ‘em!!” Robin squeals excitedly.

Scattering the piece of paper out onto the countertops, the boys watch as Robin reads through each of the messages. Her eyes scan over the words, and her eyebrows draw together, and her expression one of surprise.

“You alright over there, Rob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which considering what we’ve been through, is the last thing that should have you looking like that.” Steve joked.

“Shut up, Dingus.” Robin says, shushing Steve holding her pointer finger up at him. “Eddie, I think I might know who your secret admirer is.” 

The two boys look at Robin with wide eyes and bated breath.

Robin turns her back and hot-foots it to the back room of Family video.

“I thought you were going to tell us who it is?” Eddie shouts after his friend.

“Hold your horses will 'ya, Munson?!” she shouts back over her shoulder.

Robin returns with a wide grin gracing her freckled features as she slams down a sheet of A4 lined paper on the counter top.

“What the hell’s this?” Steve said, looking even more confused than before.

“These are the notes that I borrowed from y/n, for Kominski’s class yesterday. Now I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say that that swirly handwriting looks very familiar to me.” Robin says proudly, like she’s decoded the most cryptic of secret messages.

Eddie and Steve lean in closer to compare the handwriting in the love letters, to the handwriting in the classroom notes. 

 “I mean, apart from the little hearts that are dotting the I’s, I would say that is the exact same handwriting” Robin points out.

“So, y/n, huh?” Steve says, letting the thought hang in the air.

If Eddie was blushing before, his whole face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point, 

“Judging by your very red and embarrassed face, I’m going to guess that you like her too, right?” Robin asks.

Steve and Robin look at Eddie as he shyly scratches the back of his neck 

“Okay, yeah I like her..I like her a lot actually.”

“But isn’t tomorrow Valentine’s day?” Steve throws out.

“Oh this is perfect!” Robin jumps up and down excitedly. “Here’s what you’re going to do…”  she began as she brought Eddie closer to tell him her plan.

_______

Sticking to the plan that Robin (and Steve who got dragged into it by Robin) helped him with, Eddie got up early for school for once in his life. That morning he showered, and dressed in a clean Black Sabbath shirt (that he’d previously ironed that evening, earning a raised eyebrow from his uncle, and hung up ready to put on in the morning.)

Dressed and ready to leave, he picked up the bunch of red roses that he’d bought from the Valentine’s day section in town yesterday evening after leaving Family Video.

He’d called you and asked if you needed a lift on the way to school, and knowing you the way he did, you would much prefer to ride with him in his van than take the school bus.  

“Son..” Uncle Wayne called out to Eddie as he was just about to go through the door. “Good luck today, you be nice to that girl, alright?” His gruff voice huffs out.

“I will Wayne, I can promise you that.” Eddie throws over his shoulder with a wide grin as he makes his way to his van.

_______

Pulling up to your house, he parks his van and takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his bunch of roses and walking to your front door.

Squaring his shoulders he raises his knuckles to your door to deliver a confident knock. 

“I’m coming!!” he hears you shout from inside the house.

You unlock the door to see your best friend hiding his face behind a bouquet of beautiful red roses before handing them to you.

“These are for you. Happy Valentine’s day” he says as you kindly accept the flowers from him.

Although you had smiled when he’d given you the flowers, he could still sense your confusion at his gesture. 

“I got your notes…I thought they were really cute y’know and truth be told when I read them I kind of hoped they were from you.” he rambled, feeling that familiar heat flushing across his cheeks.

“How did you figure out it was me?” you ask.

“Well it wasn’t easy, but Robin and Steve helped me figure it out…mostly Robin, though..” he chuckles. 

There’s a moment's silence between the two of you where you’re both looking into each other’s eyes.

Feeling bold, you rise up on your tip-toes to place a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek. You feel him smile brightly under your lips.

“Thanks for the flowers, Ed. They’re beautiful” 

“You missed.” he says with a look of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.

“Huh?”

“You missed.” he says again, smirking as he points to his lips.

“Take me on a date first, and then we can see about that kiss, Ed” you giggle.

“Let me take you to the movies tomorrow? We can hold hands and do all that cute shit that you’re supposed to do on a first date” he looks to you excitedly.

“I’d love to!” 

“Great! I’ll come pick you up at seven?” 

“It’s a date” You smile back at him.

[mikobeautifulheart]

JJK men: When they eat the last donut.

TW: The ultimate betrayal. and unedited.

INCLUDING: Gojo and Yuji

°Gojo°

"SATORU" You yelled holding up the empty don't box.

"WHAT" He said panicked sticking his head around the corner only to meet with your raging eyes.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THEM MULTIPUL TIMES!" You shouted throwing the box toward his head, blocked only by his infinety.

"IM SORRY I WAS HUNGERY OKAY I DIDNT MEAN TO!" He got on the floor at your feet in an attempt to apologies and console your hungry stomach.

"YOU ATE MY VALENTIE DONUTS, SATORU YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEIR SESONAL, THEY. DON'T. SELL. THEM. ANY. MORE." you felt like kicking him square in the face in that moment.

"I KNOWW IM SORRY BABY PLEASE ILL GET YOU WHAT EVER YOU WANT."

"THEY DON'T HAVE WHAT I WANT GOJO"

ouch, he winced at his last name.

"Please just let me make it up to you I promise i'll never do it again." He got up and wrapped his arms around you almost engulfing you whole.

"Fine" you mumbled into his chest.

"But if you don't i'll kill you."

Yuji

"Y/N? Are you crying?" Yuji asked hearing sobbing noises from the kitchen.

You were at the fridge, its door open wide and you were holding onto some thing...

"Wh-h-hy Yuji, Why?" You turned with tears in your eyes.

That's when he caught a glimpse of your empty donut box...he forgot he had to replace them before you got back but it was to late.

"I trusted you-Loved you even, how could I have been such a fool?" you sobbed into your sleeve.

"No Y/N you got it wrong okay I was just seeing what was inside before Sukuna just appeared on my hand and ate it-" He paused when he saw your face change entirely.

"Y/N lets just think about this okay don't-"

You ran toward him tackling him to the floor.

"COME OUT YOU COWARD! ILL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB I SWEAR TO GOD YOUR LUCKY YOUR IN YUJIS BODY OR YOU WOULD BE DEAD!" You screamed holding Yuji's wrist up tightly to your face.

"He said he'd like to see you try" Yuji said turning his head with his eyes shut, waiting for the anger he'd have to endure.

"OH SO NOW HE WON'T EVEN TALK FACE TO FACE WITH ME AND INSULT ME? GIVE ME 10 SECONDS 10 SECONDS YUJI I'LL DO WHAT GOJO COULDN'T"

"Y/N wait, I just texted Megumi, he's going to drop the donuts off here in 15 minutes." Yuji said

You slowly let go of Yuji's wrist and stood up.

"Next time..." you mumbled under your breath.

"Stupid woman" Sukuna blurted out

"WHAT DID HE JUST SAY"

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: this took me way to long. Anyways have a nice when ever are reblogs r okay. I want dontus now

[jennifer-jeong]

Fluff + Slight Angst | Gojo x GN!Reader Kikufuku

SUMMARY Going to get food everyday with Gojo bc he loves trying new places and he used to do it sm with Geto and Shoko ):

CONTENT Mostly fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, implied crush, lots of mentions of food, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR NOTES GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM ROTTING DURING EXAMSSSSSS TAKE THIS DRAFT I FINISHED WHILE I WORK ON MY REQUESTS HEHEHEHEHEHE I WILL BE POSTING ALL MY STUFF SLOWLY MEHEEHEHHE Note that I can’t remember where I got this idea from (it's been sitting in a document for months and I only just got around to it) but I might've read it from somewhere (maybe a tiktok?) please lmk so I can give credit if this is the case!

WORD COUNT: 477

Satoru is your typical happy go lucky guy on the outside. He’s always walking around as if there’s not a single thought running through his mind. He’ll buy his favorite mochi while all the passersby swoon at his handsome self. You met the man not more than a few months ago when you joined Jujutsu High as a fellow staff member and you’ve gotten quite close. He’d always ask you if you wanted to get food after work and most of the time you'd say yes. But, for the first few weeks, sometimes you’d be busy or not feeling up to going out to dinner with your co-worker you just met. That quickly changed though.

Satoru gets quite lonely when you aren’t there with him and you've noticed after getting to know him. He's not anything he shows on the outside. He’s alone. He’s suffering. But he’s still so sweet. A month or 2 after meeting him, you’ve made it a mission to always get food with him even if you’re busy. If it’s not in person, you’re at the very least video or audio calling him so he can show you the food and talk to you while you both eat. Gojo loves trying new places because it feels refreshing. It makes him feel young again and you support it because you know his youth was robbed from him. You know that he used to get food everyday with Suguru and Shoko because he told you about it. You know he misses them by the way he talks about it and he knows you know. But, ignorance is bliss right? You're both just trying to live ignorantly happily while simultaneously healing from your respective pasts. What else could you really do?

Yesterday was takoyaki and Thai milk tea for dessert. Today was coconut curry and ice cream filled taiyaki. Tomorrow, Satoru is thinking Beijing style duck or maybe K-BBQ? Carbonara? Peri Peri Chicken? Enchiladas? Shawarma??? You always laugh when he goes on a tangent of what he wants to eat and try with you. You tease him by adding more options to the list and he clenches his fists dramatically and squeezes his eyes shut under his blindfold while whining that he can’t pick and that there’s too much good food. You occasionally have to reassure him that you have time and that you’re not going anywhere. You never fail to notice the blush on his ears when you soothe him like that and he never fails to see your fidgety hands as you say the gentle words to him. He feels so lucky to have your company and you can confidently say the same, in your thoughts of course. You wouldn’t tell him that out loud and he also finds himself too scared to try. At least, not yet. Maybe one day, over some kikufuku.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 7

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy, @chibiduck

To anon who posted about reader being injured from battle, i'm sorry but you'll have to wait a little longer until i find out what the heck is going on with my tumblr.

Authour's note :

And i'm really sorry for being gone for quite a long time. I was feeling under the weather and i had a lot of things on my plate recently ! But now that i'm okay now, i'm bringing you a new chapter !! I MEAN, HAVE YALL SEEN THE NEW KAFKA COMPANION QUEST ?!?!? ITS SO GOOD AND I ONLY SAW SNIPPETS OF IT HELPPPPP (Obviously there will be a chapter dedicated to the companion mission hheheheheh)

"You are a star that fled home, aren't you...? An outworlder, some would say." a tender feminine voice voiced out.

A masculine hum resounded from behind the female. "Yes. That's right." he said, his coarse and calloused hands caressing her beautiful soft hair with a resin comb in his hands.

"Do you suppose I would've had a different name should I be born in your homeland ?" the innocent female voice asked back, the horned lady turned around to meet tender red eyes.

"I suppose that may be the case. But why change your name ? Dan Jia is a perfectly beautiful name." the male asked back, his hands stopping from running them through those beautiful locks.

"But I suppose...if you want another name, your name would be..."

"(Y/n)..." the tender voice whispered.

And everything warped from her eyes, as if someone had wiped away the drawing of a beautiful scenery before her. And in its place, was a storming day, where left and right was surrounded by lifeless bodies of knights and Mara-struck soldiers.

She ran and ran and ran, gripping a crystal fan tight in her hold. (Y/n) didn't know where she was headed. Her heart was thumping, her head was pounding, but she never stopped running.

She just followed her heart, letting it bring her to wherever she was heading in this dream. It seems that she knew she was supposed to run somewhere, but where...?

No matter...keep running.

And in the distance, was a puff of smoke. It was puffing up in the sky, contaminating the air with its burnt smell, accompanied by the musty smell of rain.

The rain was hindering her sight, but she kept pushing on.

Snippets of pictures came to her mind. Everything was just...happening too fast. She barely remembered anything. It was...so blurry. But she could feel everything.

A body of a man lied lifeless on the ground, being held by another man tenderly in his arms, his back facing her.

Even her current self knew who that was, lying in the embrace of the Imbibator Lunae.

The dragon's fangs bared in her heart the moment she saw the limp body of the one she loved. The one she was about to tie herself to. The one she promised that no matter what, they would be together, for as long as his short life promised them.

The claws dug into her heart, as it teared at her inside out with fury and pain. She had never felt such powerful emotion running through her veins. She had never been this overwhelmed.

She remembered she saw herself swinging her fan. With fury running through her veins, she kept attacking, enemies were being frozen, then broken to the ground like broken glass and sharp icicles.

She couldn't remember much after that. And before long, she was holding the body of her fallen beloved in her arms. And as she still felt the pain in her lower back, it was nothing compared to the searing rage that was bubbling from her chest as it formed tears in her eyes.

"The elixir....it failed, sister." the Imbibator Lunae woefully whispered out. And despite the heavy rain that showered, his voice was as clear as day.

Memories resurfaced in her mind. Dan Jia was looking through the archives with the fallen, and stumbled across a scroll. A scroll of forbidden knowledge. That scroll had indeed gone missing a few days later, and she was heavily penalized for it.

And it all made sense to her.

They had taken it, now knowing its position when the young lady had accidentally pulled it.

"Please Dan Feng ! You must do it. We cant leave him to die ! Not like this ! Please, take my bone marrow !" a familiar female voice sobbed, holding the body close to herself.

"We cant leave him to die. Not when it was our fault to begin with !"

Right. They were both held accountable for what has transpired. This all happened because she showed her lover where it was, although he was forbidden from ever stepping into the archives.

She should've protected the scroll with her life should she known what were the two planning to do today.

The guilt of Dan Jia was so strong, even (Y/n) could feel it, herself crumbling to her knees and sobbing at the memory.

"I..." he whispered. He looked sorrowfully at the body of the man before them, growing lifeless as they spoke. Then he nodded.

"I understand. For you, I shall endure all punishments." Dan Feng replied, daring not to look at his sister who was weeping over the loss of her lover. For it was partially his fault for lending the man two hours to scour through the archives, to search for the remedy of death.

"Please...when I reincarnate, give me this jade pendant. It shall remind me of who I was and who to find..." she said, taking off a single jade pendant from her belt, and handing it to him.

Her memory began to blur even more, static filling her ears, and it was as if she was looking at an old screen...

Dan Feng took the pendant from her. And all she remembered then...was the teal eyes of her brother, the smell of the rain, the grey skies...

And the burning pain that ripped through her back without warning.

And the searing sensation that tore through her chest.

Her body fell, eyes beginning to blur even more.

Dan Feng stood above her, those teal eyes...colder than the ice she could ever dream of conjuring. And in his hand...was a chunk of white bone and a beating heart.

Though she had no power left, no energy left, no will left...

Those sweet words from her brother...wasn't meant for her. But for the lover that rest in between them.

(Y/n) screamed as loudly as she could, though nothing came from her lips.

"(Y/n) !"

(Y/n)'s eyes snapped open, her heart beating like crazy. Her forehead was sweating as her chest heaved up and down.

Warm and concerned honey colored eyes gazed into her own, worry swimming in them as the bearer leaned over her laying body, hands holding her down by her shoulders. Then one of the hands moved and cupped her cheek, taking in how cold she was at the moment.

"J-Jing Yuan..."

"Are you alright...?" the lion quickly interrupted, as he slowly pulled (Y/n)'s hand, letting her sit upright, trying to let her get more oxygen to calm down.

(Y/n)'s head was swimming with horror and realization. What she had just witnessed...was too vivid to be a dream. Too familiar to be a gore fantasia.

Those were her memories. Memories of her past. Before she called herself (Y/n).

"You were screaming in your sleep. I tried to wake you up, and you finally opened your eyes, (Y/n)..." Jing Yuan softly whispered, his hand holding her dainty own as another hand rubbed her back.

"(Y/n)..." the warm voice of her memories called out before the nightmare begun. That deep voice. The voice of the beloved swordsmith.

Her eyes filled themselves with uncontrollable tears, biting down her lip as she relived those horrible...horrible memories.

The man in the alley...and her beloved in her dreams...

Were the same person, had she not realized sooner.

Was that why she had a strong sense of longing...?

(Y/n) bent down, putting her face in her hands as she began to sob. Everything was beginning to feel too much for her. Everything was coming back too fast to her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Jing Yuan was a little surprised at her sudden breakdown. But who was he to complain...? Who was he to say anything when he didn't understand what was going on ? He could only rub her back soothingly as he put his lips close to her ear.

"(Y/n)...what happened...? What did you see...?" he spoke, as (Y/n) nodded, wiping away her tears.

"I saw...everything. Snippets of my past...my death..." (Y/n) said, looking up at Jing Yuan.

"It hurts...it hurts so much...how could...how could he pull out my heart ?"

Her back hurt, but her chest even more. It was as if what she had just seen in her dreams, had just relived that moment.

"(Y/n)...princess..." Jing Yuan softly said, as (Y/n) looked at him with those pained and traumatized (e/c) eyes. With only that description, he knew exactly what she saw.

He raised a hand, and caressed her silky (h/c) hair. He was conflicted, unknowing what to do in this situation, for what he had hoped to avoid for the most came back to her in times where she wasn't ready.

"I...I thought I was punished...?" (Y/n) asked, her hoarse voice scratching through her throat as she talked. Jing Yuan moved his hand to cup her cheek, wiping away those broken crystal tears that ran down (Y/n)'s face without her controlling them.

Jing Yuan didn't know how to explain this. But he thought that it was only right she knew bits and bits of herself. When the time was right, he was sure that he would tell her everything. But now...? The dragon girl before him was bawling her eyes out, having seeing horrific things, feeling them.

"Your punishment...was your unlimited sleep and losing your privilege as a former High Elder for losing the heart. You were gravelly injured when I found you. Even after we returned you to the shell...you never woke up. It was odd, really." Jing Yuan said, his voice soft as to comfort her.

"Honestly we didn't know when you would wake up, since it seems that your power was abruptly taken away from you. Your body couldn't handle it, and you fell into a deep sleep. Even when you hatched after years of resting here, you...were still this size. Though you no longer had the injuries you once sustained, and it seemed that the egg just...healed you." Jing Yuan replied.

"That's enough for now, princess. It's all in the past now. We can talk later in the morning. Can you sleep ?" Jing Yuan kindly asked with a smile.

(Y/n) shook her head, as she gripped the sheets that covered her lower body. She looked like a little child, really. With how she was pouting, trying to recollect herself that everything that happened was just in the past.

Jing Yuan couldn't help but chuckle as he saw (Y/n) like that. He lifted his hand, and pet her hair soothingly. "I know just the thing that might help you."

The general walked down the hallways of his large estate, tenderly holding (Y/n)'s hand. He was still a little tired, and the darkness of the hallway was more than enough to rouse his sleepiness. He was called the dozing general for nothing.

Turning around a corner, he brought her to a room. And as he opened it, it was a large and spacious bedroom. It was tidy, minus the disheveled sheets, the clothes strewn across the ground, and the number of scrolls that littered one small table in the corner of the room. A glaive was set high on the wall, his personal choice of weapon for years he passed through.

It was his personal bedroom.

"Come in, princess." Jing Yuan said, comfortingly, pulling her hand in. As he shut the doors behind him, (Y/n) was standing there, admiring the deco of his room.

"A-are you sure it's alright for me to be here...? Wouldn't anyone be...suspicious...?" (Y/n) timidly asked, her hands together as she looked at her long-time friend behind her.

She regretted, as a furious blush crept up her cheeks by the sight behind her.

She had never realized this before since she was in a state of shock and trauma, but she never really took in the appearance of her friend. He was wearing a loose silk robe with a simple red belt around his waist, tied loosely with a bow by his side. Though it was beautiful, fitting his muscular form perfectly, running over his toned muscles like water, the fact that it was just a loose robe with such little security, meant that his chest was wide open for her to see.

He stood there, with a knowing smirk on his face as (Y/n) was watching him stand there in all his half-naked glory. There wasn't anything for him to hide, rather there was much for him to show. That toned six pack he usually hid behind his attire was there right open for her precious innocent eyes to feast on.

"J-Jing Yuan ! Have some decency !" (Y/n) exclaimed, facing front immediately, a hand over her eyes to cover her from the quite revealing sight she was just exposed to.

Jing Yuan merely let out a hearty laugh, as he got closer to her petite form. His large hand went to her hair, admiring the silky strands that hung from his calloused fingers with a soft gaze in his golden eyes before he leaned in to her ear.

"Not to worry, princess. You shouldn't be ashamed to see something I wasn't meaning to hide~" he purred deeply into her ear, laughing again as he saw her face grow redder by the minute, up to the point where the tips of her ears had turned red.

"No no, I didn't mean to do that." he said, walking away from his flustered companion and walked to the corner of his room, where there were clear sliding doors.

Jing Yuan opened the door, revealing the view of a beautiful and spacious oriental garden, enclosed by the other walls of the estate. It was hard to see, but with the light provided by the moonlight, she could see all the plants and pathways that were manicured and shaped to form this traditional art. Small lion statues were placed around, along with little bridges that crossed over small streams.

"Mimi~!" Jing Yuan called out from his door. (Y/n) was on the floor, seated on the matted floorings of Jing Yuan's room, admiring the garden before her. That was before her (e/c) eyes were met with shining sapphire eyes with slits.

"A...lion...?" (Y/n) asked, eyes blown wide by the majestic creature that appeared before her. Jing Yuan laughed as the beast came to the wood platform, moving aside to let her in.

The lion, of Mimi as Jing Yuan called, pranced right in, as it was a norm for her to appear in her master's room. She looked curiously at the woman who sat close to her master's feet, slowly approaching the woman in a curious way.

"Hold your hand out to her like you would a kitten, (Y/n). Don't worry, Mimi never bites." Jing Yuan said, smiling warmly at the interaction between his companion and the beautiful dragon lady.

So (Y/n) did as she was told, holding her hand out to the majestic creature. Mimi tilted her head slightly as she approached the woman that had no fear towards her, her muzzled close to the small hand. It was so small, it was smaller than Mimi's face.

Mimi took one sniff with her black nose before she pounced on the dragon lady. (Y/n) yelped loudly as the lion leapt on her, her tail whipping in the air affectionately as she pushed (Y/n) to the ground, purring like a cat.

"It seems that she likes you !" Jing Yuan said heartily, sitting on the ground next to (Y/n) who was laughing and running her hands through Mimi's majestic snow mane. Mimi loved (Y/n) so, rubbing her large face against (Y/n)'s face, like a companion that had long last seen their master.

"I brought you here to play with her, if you couldn't sleep. So, spend the night here. I'm sure no one would mind, knowing who you are." Jing Yuan said, as he stroked Mimi's back.

"Are you sure ?" (Y/n) asked, looking at Jing Yuan from the floor, her beautiful strands of (h/c) hair, disheveled on the floor, shining silver beneath the moonlight like the most precious silks. He picked up a few strands from those beautiful locks gently in his hands, leaning down to kiss them.

"I'm sure. You have nothing to worry about. When your on these grounds, you shall be safe from all harm." Jing Yuan whispered, as (Y/n) began to get distracted when Mimi demanded more attention from her by resting her entire bodyweight on (Y/n).

"I promise you, my princess. So do not worry, and play and laugh to your hearts content. Sleep so soundly and sing so cheerfully, as if you have no other care in this world."

Jing Yuan smiled as he watched his princess laugh so melodiously as she played so carefreely with his feline. He had never seen her smile so freely, so enchantingly as she bathed beneath the pale moonlight.

He would do anything to protect that smile on (Y/n)'s face.

"You look troubled, Bladie. Are you sure seeing her once is enough...?" the voice of a beautiful woman rang through the deserted docks.

The man who was previously looking at the moon turned to look at his companion, who had unexpectedly awakened from her slumber as he stayed up.

"Being able to hug her once...was more than enough for me, Kafka." Blade quietly responded, surprisingly calm even after seeing someone so closely related to his past.

"Are you alright ? No feeling of the Mara stirring up in you ?" the woman asked, as she sat next to her companion who held something in his hands in his lap as he sat crossed legged on the ground.

"Surprisingly, no. Seeing her makes me calm. Honestly, I never thought I'd be able to see her, ever again. Not after how I saw her..." he responded quietly, trailing off as he refused to say it. Then, he unfolded his fingers from their tight grasp. And there, was a pair of beautiful glass earrings.

"If its stirring up again, what are the chances of it calming down once you see her ?" Kafka asked, taking a simple guess as she glanced at her partner in crime.

"She has always been...calm. Jia. In the native language of Xianzhou, it means home." Blade said, looking down at the earrings he once made for a beloved once. He turned up, looking at the moon, the same moon he knew she was sleeping peacefully under.

"And that's what she has always been. My home."

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

this might be dumb but i wanna vent abt smth i saw

idk a lot aboit copyright and domains but the way some ppl in fandom act so entitled to authours work and their ip is wild to me. saw someone say that they can't wait to see mxtx works become public this year (but that's not happening at all???????) so they can finally fix her characters and couple to whatever their ship is........

That's not how public domain property works, dear lord, I think that made my blood pressure spike....

I think with fandom exploration and of course encouragement, which I fully support, there comes the ugly side of entitlement. From "I didn't like this personally", to "Fans as a whole don't like this outcome for the plot" ergo, I and my fellow fans that agree, are making this better and we deserve these characters more. It's a parasocial pedestal in that because it's fiction it can still be changed via transformative work that caters to my specific wants that I felt the author/creator did not meet.

Now there is always the validity of constructive critique, usually this is supposed to involve the good,the weakness that may have broken submersion and an example that could strengthen it to be more cohesive in detail/plot thread/thematic,wording. But at times this has evolved into "I know these characters better than their own author, if I personally and emotionally relate to a story device character".

Fandom and yes friend circles can have the bad habit of conforming to what is considered socially acceptable and popular amongst them for a fandom, but not necessarily understanding their own perceptions are not going to be the same all around with strangers much less what the author intended. And there can be a lot of anger especially to the creators and other fans that do shoot down popular interpretations or simply say "no this was not what was intended and I will clarify with supporting points from what we have been given". This is also just not a safe environment to foster because what fun is it to demand you have to like it as I do, even when there is no supporting weight for that interpretation other than duress of threat from saying "I relate to this and anything against it is bullying me"?

And it's almost very... interesting how vitriolic others are when it comes to MXTX being open about her own holds and intentions with her works and characters that have derailed popular fanon sort of takes and leading others to call her closed-minded etc. Especially when she says it's fine to explore fics of her worlds, but she doesn't want to have her own romances dismissed because those are the crux of her novels and hard work.

[canariie]

something blue

Rating: K+

Synopsis: “How are you feeling, Hinamori?” he asked.

“I’m doing well! I’m enjoying the party!” she said cheerily, but even to her ears it felt a bit forced. She sighed and took another sip, avoiding her captain’s watchful eyes.

…

Amidst the dancing and drinks, Momo doesn't realize how overwhelmed she feels on Renjii's wedding day.

Word Count: 5590 words

Setting: the RenRuki wedding during We Do KNOT Love You!

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week Celebration 2023 Day 7 - Future

Authour’s Note: Welcome to my pasta-salad of a fic! Partly because I think I tried to put so much into this, culminating in my longest fic on tumblr and usurping i just called to say's position!

This is also RenRuki adjacent, so proceed how you would with that.

Similar to that fic, this is also INCREDIBLY LATE and I apologize for that! It also has several music inspirations going from Enchanted (Taylor's Version) & Back to December (Taylor's Version) to the tone of Billie Eilish's What was I Made For & my future—and I think that shows hahahaha

I hope you all enjoy it!

—

Momo was excited for the nijikai, the less formal wedding after party, because that’s where the night truly began.

Renjii had picked Daruma Bar, a familiar haunt of his that the lieutenants had visited many times after late meetings, long work weeks and happy hour celebrations. And maybe it was the romantic in Momo, but she was delighted that they were celebrating a new chapter for her friend in a place that was cemented in such fond memories.

The Bar’s decorations were less ostentatious than the engagement party and the Kuchiki ceremonial shrine. However, it warmed Momo’s heart to see Kuchiki-taicho act so openly benevolent towards his younger sister—something unusual for the typically aloof man.

There was a room at the back of the bar off the side kitchen, dedicated for the respective parties to get ready. It had doubled as storage and a changing space for the servers, leaving it cramped with boxes and a folding screen. To call it a room was generous but the larger formal one was rightfully reserved for Rukia to get ready. Momo had joined in on the groom’s side because she was much closer to Renjii—and, because she hadn’t gotten the chance to spend time alone with him.

“How do you feel, Abarai-kun?” Momo had asked as she took the groom’s outer robe from him, carefully folding it away. The garment had been a gift from Kuchiki-taicho who had it embellished with the Sixth Division symbol. Izuru and Ikkaku had gone with the human, Kurosaki, to look for the final additions to Renjii’s next outfit for the night, leaving Momo alone to help the groom get ready.

“I don’t know…normal—but not?” the tall man shrugged. “I’m not used to all this pomp and circumstance—especially everyone looking at me.”

Momo laughed as she handed Renjii the black suit bag—a custom tailoring from the Quincy boy.  “It’s your day Abarai-kun, everyone should be looking at you!”

His cheeks turned bright red, rivaling his hair. “I’ve had enough of it for a while.” Renjii moved behind the screen, and Momo turned her back around to give him further privacy as he removed the other layers. (Days spent in the Shinigami Academy had broken through any semblance of modesty when they had to quickly change between fitness courses and studies along with their overnight camps).

“How are you, Hinamori-kun?”

“Me?” Momo looked down at her hands as she played with the strings of her purse, fiddling with the knotted ends.

“No, the other girl in the room,” he scoffed loudly.

She rolled her eyes and threw a tie over her shoulder and screen, smiling in delight when she heard him yelp.

“You were pretty emotional at the engagement party—and now at the ceremony…I just wasn’t expecting you to cry so much.”

Momo smiled to herself— she had definitely cried her fair share of tears the last couple of days. But she’d shed them all again because they were happy tears. And she knows she wasn’t the only one to be overwhelmed by such a beautiful moment; for even the human girl, Orihime, had started crying so much so when Rukia walked down the aisle, the human couldn’t hold her camera straight. During the ceremony, Momo had sat with Rangiku and the other lieutenants, and was bawling as soon as she saw Renjii have his first glance at Rukia.

“I’m just so…happy for you,” Momo sniffled feeling an onslaught of tears come on. “Is that such a bad thing?” she asked as she could hear him chuckle behind the screen.

She couldn’t help it. Momo loved love and she loved that her dear friend had finally found his.

Momo remembered in the Academy, how Renjii has first come out as rough around the edges. It had been the first time she had met someone from one of the lower districts, and she didn’t quite know what to make of him—except that his eyebrows were quite strange.

But any reservations she may have initially had melted away when she saw his sincere heart and what a dedicated friend he was. From walking her back to her dorm after late night studying sessions to dropping off sweets before her advanced kido exam to sticking by her side when they were prematurely attacked by the hollow—Momo dearly wished that Renjii believed in himself like how he believed in his friends.

“How do I look?”

Momo turned around, and gasped. The taller man had left his hair loose, hanging long down his shoulders—making him look older and more debonair. And though the black formal suit was atypical garb for him, he somehow brought it all together with his usual black bandana. He looked good.

Renjii tugged at his collar, wincing in discomfort. “Is it too stuck up?”

The young girl shook her head and walked closer, taking the tie into her hands. “Abarai-kun, you are going to break a lot of hearts tonight.” She winked. “It’s a good thing you’re a married man.”

“You sound like Matsumoto—or Hisagi after a couple of drinks,” he chuckled in disbelief. “But you really think so? I don’t look out of place?” He joked casually, but Momo could detect something deeper.

“Abarai-kun,” she tightened the knot and looked up at him. “Do you feel like you don’t belong?”

He shrugged his shoulders so much that the ruby tie slipped out of her fingers. “It just feels like a lot—the ceremony, the wedding party. We knew we wanted to be together, but I didn’t expect it would become such a big event,” Renjii looked away to the side. “It’s all out of my comfort zone,” he confessed, twisting the ring on his finger.

She looked at him sympathetically. “I know you two have gone through a lot, Abarai-kun,” Momo reasoned softly, putting her hand on his arm, having him look down at her. “But I can say with absolute confidence that the two of you are the strongest and happiest when you two are together. This party—it just became something for everyone else to put their energy into having fun for one night.”

Momo smiled wholeheartedly. “And honestly I’m sure for Rukia-san, she doesn’t care for all these extravagances—she’d marry you even with paper rings.” She reached up to straighten out the wrinkles on his shoulder. “Again—I’m so happy for you.”

Renjii smiled and ruffled her hair, much to her protests. “Thanks, Hinamori-kun.” The taller man paused, like he was trying to uncover something on her face, but before Momo could ask, Ikkaku came barreling in with the human boy Kurosaki and Kira following suit.

“We found the corsage!” Ikkaku boomed, holding it up in victory.

“Byakuya had it expedited shipped from some out-there province—but wasn’t clear about which import hub it was located in,” the human boy said as he rolled his eyes.

...

Daruma Bar had transformed from the quaint backyard bar they knew into a bustling reception area. Tealights strung from the trees, hanging over a generous dance floor, already teeming with well-dressed officers. There were Kuchiki mansion staff seen around serving cocktail drinks while Hisagi was manning the DJ booth (a custom export from the human world), with an overeager Omaeda directing the spotlight.

Momo found herself ushered out onto the main floor, following the loud cheers of the groom party as the bridal party followed suit. Rukia was resplendent in a white cocktail dress, though she still wore her veil attached to the back of her head. There were tiny little strawberry flowers dotting the lining—which Rangiku had eagerly whispered into Momo’s ear during the ceremony that Orihime had personally embroidered as a gift.

It was only with the deafening cheer when the young couple satisfied the crowd with a kiss that the party truly started.

A dusk had descended on the day, with candles illuminating the tables and basking everyone in red orange hues. Momo could see many of her lieutenants around the tables, chatting and mingling, along with lower seated officers who were clinking glasses of beer together. There was a relaxed air, and she felt immediately at ease to see everyone unwind.  

Hisagi had blasted the music loudly, and only for the fact that it was an official Gotei Thirteen event (and that Kyoraku-soutaicho was enjoying a round of shots himself), Momo was sure they would have violated some noise pollution ordinances. But when Renjii pulled her onto the dance floor as a line dance came on, she couldn’t help herself but laugh out loud and try to follow along.

And Momo danced. In the group dances when the crowd swarmed to the floor, she jumped from side to side. When the music slowed to heartfelt ballads, she clutched onto Nanao’s shoulders, singing with her whole heart out.

During the brief moments of respite when she was taking a break with a drink in hand, she found her eyes drifting to the human group on the side.

The war had been long over, but there was still a wide berth around the Quincy boy, Uryuu, who stood off to the side chatting with the other tall human. Momo could see Orihime run over to them, trying to liven up the conversation and eagerly pointing to her plate of food. And in between the loud beats of music, she found herself thinking how the war had left invisible scars on all of them.

The music shifted to softer, mellow music and Momo eagerly took that as a cue to head over to the chef’s table. There were several cooks who were preparing popular street food from the different districts of Rukongai, such as taiyaki, grilled corn and okonomiyaki pancakes—many of which she knew were Renjii’s favourites. There was still the presence of Kuchiki-taicho’s influence in the decoration, from the ornate ice sculptures, exquisite flower bouquets among finger sized hors d’oeuvres and a slow roasted pigling on the split. 

Momo didn’t want to eat too much as she was keen to dance more without the heavy feeling of being full. So, she quickly took a bite of the taiyaki before walking over the newlywed couple who were in line with Kuchiki-taicho at the kabob stall.  

Renjii gestured forward with his meat skewer, holding it by the Sixth Captain’s face. “You have to try this, Taicho! It’s an Inuzuri special!”

Rukia nodded her head eagerly, the excitement sparkling in her violent eyes. “They marinate the meat with plums to help sweeten it.”

Momo had to laugh at the look at the sixth divison’s captain’s face—the only indication of displeasure was the slight downturn of his lips. He slowly took the skewer, inspecting it on all sides before lifting it up and taking the smallest bite Momo had ever seen. He chewed slowly, maintaining contact with the eager eyes of the bride & groom, before swallowing.

“It is…appropriate,” he sufficed, before dabbing his lips with a napkin.

...

The party continued in beat again, with no clear sign of stopping. Hisagi’s position of DJ had been usurped by one of the Shiba men, eager to grab the mic and direct the audience in line dances. After the ninth lieutenant had realized what happened, it was a loud battle where the music changed pace and tempo to their scramble, confusing the audience in between switching from easy going sways and fast jigs. The fight immediately ceased and desisted when the older Shiba came on stage and hit the two men both, stopping the bickering without any question. It was only when the music slowed to a soft classical tune, did Momo decide it was time to sit out for a bit after another long stint on the dance floor.

She walked up to her captain, who was leaning casually against one of the high tables, observing the party with his eyes straying down to his phone every so often. Though he looked relaxed, Momo knew him well enough to know that he was eagerly waiting for the vizards from the Human World to join—specifically a short blond woman.

A server walked by, and Momo quickly took a drink, shooting a generous smile at the staff in thanks.

“Go easy on the drinks,” Hirako mused with a smile tugging on his lips, “We still have work tomorrow.”

Her captain had eagerly taken the opportunity to dress in human clothes, wearing a dark pinstripe suit with silver tie. Momo had never seen him before so excited to dress up and he had taken many trips to the Human World to find the right outfit.

“Taicho, the suit looks quite good on you!” she remarked, leaning against the table with a champagne glass in her hands. Now that she had stopped dancing, she didn’t quite realize how much her feet were hurting. She sighed, inhaling the dusky air that was sweet and heavy with candle smoke.

“You also look good,” her captain remarked, holding his glass up in a cheers motion. “Matsumoto had fun with the makeup?”

Momo smiled in agreement as she played with her flower hair ornament. “She did a fantastic job!”

The two lieutenants had eagerly gone through the stores looking for appropriate kimonos to wear. And even though the older woman had more stamina than Momo in that respect, she enjoyed the shopping spree; especially when she finally settled on a light pink print with white printed flowers. Rangiku had helped her dress up and made sure to spend extra time on the younger girl’s makeup and hair before getting ready herself.

When Momo finally saw the look, light pink blush and soft red lips, she couldn’t stop staring at herself which filled her with greater anticipation for tonight.

“How are you feeling, Hinamori?” he asked.

“I’m doing well! I’m enjoying the party!” she said cheerily, but even to her ears it felt a bit forced. She sighed and took another sip, avoiding her captain’s watchful eyes.

Hirako took a long swig of his drink. “You’ve been crying a lot—I know you and Abarai are close friends…” he drifted off. “But is there nothing else going on?”

Momo swished the glass around, looking down. “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “I am happy for Abarai-kun—I truly am.”

The Fifth captain leveled her with a long stare. “Sometimes seeing other people happy can remind us of when we’re not,” he said simply.

Momo turned sharply towards him. “Do I seem unhappy?” she asked softly.

Hirako shook his head and looked at the last of the crowd dancing. “Not to everyone–no. But I think those that care can tell when there’s something deeper.”

“Hina-chan! Hirako-taicho!”

The two Fifth Squad guards looked towards Rangiku who was walking towards them with a skip in her step, dressed in a beautiful vibrant violet kimono with peony flowers.  In the low light, her blue eyes were twinkling, and the red candle flames highlighted her wavy golden hair. 

Following behind slowly was the tenth division captain, dressed in a simple dark grey kimono. While others had gone for extravagance or taken the opportunity to dress up, the simplicity of his outfit made the young boy stand out in the crowd. His turquoise eyes seemed brighter, and his white hair shined amongst all the candle lights. Momo could feel her heart race up (but she blamed it on the lightheaded feeling from the drinks).

“Hinamori-chan, you dance so well,” Rangiku remarked as she plucked a champagne glass from a passing server. She shot a flirtatious smile at the server, who scrambled away flustered, their cheeks a bright red. “I don’t think I’ve seen you take a break all night.”

“I’ve been having a lot of fun,” she laughed, moving forward and almost toppling over if it hadn’t been for her captain and Rangiku who grabbed a hold of her arms. “I’ll say,” Rangiku laughed. She turned behind her, beckoning her hand forward. “Taicho, take a photo of us!”

Momo looked to the young captain who looked like he was frozen in motion, with hands slightly reached out. They fell lamely to the side. He recomposed himself and sent a glare towards his lieutenant—but complied, holding up the camera in front of him.

The lighthearted smile Momo had tried to put on all evening felt strained and she could only hope it didn’t show as the flash went off.

“The Kuchiki’s really know how to throw a party,” Rangiku observed demurely, “they should do it more often.” She flipped her long hair as she scanned the crowd. “I think they’re going to be turning off the music soon.” The older woman turned to look at Momo with a devious smile. “Hina-chan—you should dance with Taicho.”

Her heart rate immediately jumped, and she found herself frantically waving her hands in front of her. “Oh no,” Momo looked back for support but found herself being pushed forward by her captain, who was sporting a smug smile. “C’mon, it’ll be good for you,” he said with a final nudge.

A similar look was mirrored over with Rangiku who was pushing a protesting Toushiro towards the middle of the dance floor, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Taicho, hasn’t stepped on the dance floor at all tonight!” She agilely grabbed the camera out of his hands.

“Matsumoto!” Toushiro turned to yell at his vice-captain who quickly made herself scarce from the scene. He turned slowly to look at Momo as dancers passed by around them.

He cleared his throat. “Hinamori, we don’t have to do this.”

She could only mutely nod her head shortly, as she realized that this was the first time, they had spoken outside of work to each other after the recovery period.

The crowd continued to move around the two of them undeterred. Swaths of maroon, blue, purple flashed around her, but she could only look down at her feet. The music slowed down in pace, and a loud cheering occurred across the floor, with Renjii and Rukia making it onto the floor before holding onto each other like they had all the time in the world—which made Momo’s heart clench.

Momo could hear Toushiro sigh softly before she saw two feet approach her.

She turned to look up and he was too close, much too close. She forgot to breathe as she looked up and counted the flecks of sapphire in his eyes.

“Can I,” he asked softly, a sense of trepidation in his voice.

She jerked her head down and felt her heart rate quicken as he took her hands in his—which were several degrees colder than hers but grounded her in a reality that too many earlier drinks had lifted her from.

“Just humour them for one song…” he whispered.

It was an awkward start with Toushiro guiding Momo’s hand to his shoulder before moving behind to hold her shoulder blade. She had to swallow a gasp as she could feel the cold move dangerously close to the scar in her back, making her breath quicken.

And she didn’t know if it was cruel fate or not, but the music had slowed done to a pace that only in twos could one traverse. Out of the corner in her eyes, she saw her subordinates holding onto each other, with easy-going smiles as they swayed in comfort.

Momo stared straight at the side of his neck, trying to avoid all eye contact as they moved from one side to the other. She was too aware of his white hair tickling her cheek and the cool exhale of his breath on her collarbone.

This was too close too close. It was the closest they had been to each other in five years.

They had spent three years after the Quincy War dancing around the divide between them. Prior to that, Momo could only focus on her personal recovery after the Winter War as well as adjusting to her new captain. Toushiro had always seemed to be there on the periphery, flitting in and out of her consciousness.

He had apologized to her for what happened in the Fake Karakura town. She had profusely apologized in retaliation — no it wasn’t his fault, she shouldn’t have been there, she hardly remembered it, they were all foolishly tricked. (But that doesn’t stop the cold tremors she feels whenever she sees Hyourinmaru).

The young boy had stood there, silent and listening, but Momo could see the winter storm in his eyes, obscuring the shame that he had still felt whenever he got a glimpse of her scar through the Fourth Division robes. She had clutched the fabric tighter to her heart, where ice had barely missed, unable to meet his gaze. Even though she set the fissures off first, it was his sword that had swung the final blow in the demise of their crumbling relationship.

And she knows that he knows she feels that way because he had stepped aside, adamantly training in isolation to be stronger (at least according to her usual queries to Rangiku). And what could she do, except also turn around and try to move forward as a lieutenant of the Gotei 13.

For as much as she hated to admit it, they were not the same as before. Now they were just small talk and shallow inquiries about the weather, during the brief exchanges between captain and lieutenant meetings.

Momo wishes with all her heart that they could go back to who they were; where she could rush to him on the good days, a whole plate of watermelon in between them and see his eyes light up in excitement; or seek him out in the bad days when she desperately wanted to her hear his calm and rational reasoning, that soothed her like a cool breeze in the summer.

“How are you, Hinamori?”

Momo startled, looking to the right at him, but any closer and her lips would be on his neck.

“I’m good,” she responded quickly, inwardly grimacing at how high her voice sounded. “Hirako-taicho and I were excited to finish work two hours earlier so we could get ready. I had made sure we had finished all our reports for the day for approval, but it was nice to have an official announcement that work could be done earlier,” she rambled.

Toushiro raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t quite believe her.

“Isn’t Hirako supposed to be one that handed those in?”

“Hirako-taicho,” Momo corrected, “He had done it the previous time but since I was meeting Rangiku-san and Nanao-san to get ready, we thought it best that I hand in the reports since it was on the way to the First Division.”

He hummed in agreement, before it became silent again. They turned around to avoid another couple who had swept a little too close. Momo found herself looking for Rukia and Renjii to distract herself from the awkwardness. The two were glued to each other, with Rukia staring up at her husband, the adoration evident in her eyes. She stood on her toes to which Renjii responded by lifting her higher. The young woman whispered something in his ear to which the red-haired man looked at her with wide surprised eyes before spinning her around as she laughed.

The two of them were out of step with the song but perfectly attuned to each other.   

Momo’s heart ached and a heavy weight settled in the pit of her stomach.

She looked down at the corner of his neck and shoulder. “Are you enjoying the wedding?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been designated to photograph duty.”

“At least you’re part of the moments?” she tried to salvage.

“Not really,” the boy scoffed.

There was an awkward turn and Momo turned too quickly, tripping over her feet and bumped her chin into his shoulder. She mumbled an apology, not before she got an inhale of his scent which sent her mind into scrambles.

Momo pulled back to face him. “Did I hurt you?”

His emerald eyes went wide. A pause. The boy took a deep breath and leveled her with an intense gaze. “You could never hurt me, Hinamori.”

She stopped moving with Toushiro following suit. Everyone continued around spinning and laughing, while the music went up in crescendo.

“That’s not true at all…” Momo said distantly, shaking her head.

A loud bang startled her into moving closer to him, and she could feel him tighten his hold on her. Loud bursts of fireworks went off above them and the sky illuminated with bright vibrant streaks of colour.

All of a sudden, Momo noticed people looking at her with hopeful smiles and knowing looks, which made her chest tighten. And the cold on her back and her hand slowly felt like a vice that she couldn’t get out quickly enough.

“I’m sorry, Hitsugaya-taicho I have to leave,” Momo sputtered out right as the final note dropped, before running off the floor. Fireworks continued to crackle as she pushed past the dancing bodies, desperate to get as far away as she could. All the excitement that had made her feel before like she was floating on a cloud disappeared, leaving her with deep intense dread inside. 

A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, and she was pulled off the dance floor. Momo startled as Ikkaku thrust a shot glass into her face.

“C’mon, Hinamori—it’s the last shots of the night!”

The groom’s party had gathered around, with several bottles already empty in between them all.  Kira looked completely out of it, stumbling forward, and clutching onto Renjii with a dazed look in his eyes. The human boy wasn’t too far behind, his face mirroring the fruit he was named after. Ikkaku still seemed bright and alert as he poured the alcohol into her glass.

“Hinamori, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Renjii reasoned, trying to push off Kira so he could come towards her. She recognized that look of concern, it was his big brother mode when he saw she was teetering on the edge of anxiety.

Momo, determined not to make a bigger fool of herself and ruin her friend’s special day, took the shot lifted out towards her.

“To the Abarai’s!”

And she threw back the drinks, the liquid burning down her throat.  The rest of the guys hollered loudly, rivaling the sound of the fireworks. And they didn’t stop there, continuing to chase one drink after the other until Momo’s head pounded like the fireworks.

--

In front of Daruma Bar there was a large pond and several benches for guests to sober up on. Amid the final throws of excitement, Momo had hobbled alone out of the bar before throwing up in the bushes by the water. And even through the motions, she found herself thinking—that in no way was she getting her kimono stained—and that she was grateful there was no one to witness this embarrassment.

A cool cloth appeared in the peripheral of her vision, and she was too tired to not accept it.

“How much did you eat today?” Toushiro asked sternly as he hovered over her. She startled belatedly and threw a fatigued look over her shoulder.

“Not enough,” Momo heaved. When she was finally done coughing, she collapsed on the bench in exhaustion—feeling spent and drained.

The tenth captain stood a distance, in that quiet way Momo knew he reserved for battle, figuring out his first move.

Momo wiped her forehead and her mouth, looking down at the lipstick smears on the cloth. She sniffled, feeling despondent.

The war was over. They had fought, had shed blood, had lost men—but they had won. And though it was a quiet victory, with reconstruction looming as a herculean hill to climb, they all pressed on. People were having fun, becoming stronger, moving on. This party was just one moment of many future beginnings, a dynamic turn of high energy and excitement for what was ahead— and yet, Momo still felt caught in the past somehow.

Momo knew in the deepest of her hearts, that Renjii deserved this night. She had remembered it all too well, the pain on his face when Rukia had entered the Kuchiki household, leaving him at the Academy broken-hearted. He had fought tooth and nail and truly defied the odds when no one had believed him.

But, now sitting in the aftermath of the party, Momo was hit with the sobering thought that she was pitifully jealous of Renjii. Jealous that he had a new future to look forward to with someone he cared deeply for. Momo was nowhere near where he was, hell—she wasn’t even on proper speaking terms with one of her oldest friends.

Momo sobbed, furiously rubbing her eyes with her kimono sleeves. “Do…do you think—we’ll ever be like that?”

Toushiro sighed, knowing that Momo’s tolerance how gone past reason.

“We never stopped being friends, Hinamori.”

“But we don’t talk anymore,” she wailed tearfully, feeling fresh tears come down her face. It was bothering her now how sticky her cheeks were becoming, considering the amount of time Rangiku had spent on her makeup—which made her feel even more pitiful. “Do you hate me, Hitsugaya-kun?”

He stood there uncomfortably, as if trying to find the right words. “Hinamori I never…hated you.” Toushiro let out a long exhale as he sat on the far end of the bench. “I just wanted to give you space.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t know what we are,” she bemoaned, gesturing her hands in between them. “But I do know,” Momo sniffled loudly. “we’re not the same as before.”

“No…no we’re not,” Toushiro said simply, looking at the moon’s reflection in the water. Momo could see that even though his hair seemed bright like the white light, there was a dullness in his eyes. 

“I thought training would be the solution, to get stronger and let you be on your own.” He kicked a loose pebble into the pond. “But that wasn’t the only right answer.”

Toushiro turned to her, and solemnly said, “You didn’t deserve that.”

Momo hiccupped and looked up at him with teary eyes. “…You’re not mad at me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion. “Why would you blame yourself for everything?”

“Well, I started this all—this rift,” Momo drew a line in between them, tracing her finger on the stone bench. She looked up at him with doleful eyes. “I’m sorry, Shiro-chan—for all of it. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough.”

The boy looked down at the space in between them pensively. It was like she could see the gears turn in his mind, slowly and methodically, to find the next right step.

“And for every apology you give...instead of pulling away,” Toushiro shifted himself over until he was halfway over the bench, looking up at her with determination in his eyes, “I’ll move closer.”

Her brown eyes widened, before she smiled in relief, scooting closer to him, until they were side by side. Momo grabbed his hand in her’s, holding them up high in between them. “And for every time you feel like you want to pull away, I won’t let you.”

Toushiro noted objectively. “I think we’ve come to a standstill.”

She laughed as she wiped the tears off her cheeks, “That the Hitsugaya-kun I miss. You always know exactly what to say.”

They stayed in silence, listening to the last sounds of the party as it wrapped up. Finally, Toushiro pushed himself off the bench and turned to the teary girl. “Come on, let’s go home.”

At the thought of getting up, Momo immediately deflated with the pent-up fatigue from the party. “My feet are killing me,” she whimpered, quickly trying to kick off her heeled shoes. The brown-haired girl stuck out her bottom lip in contemplation.

“Can you carry me, Hitsugaya-kun?” she asked quietly, as if she were afraid to shatter the moment.

The tenth captain raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to remember this in the morning?” he asked dubiously.

Momo whined, her voice raising in pitch. “C’mon—I used to do it all the time for you when you got hurt.”

Toushiro rolled his eyes, before turning around and bending down. There was a moment of awkward fumbling as Momo eagerly climbed onto his back. She clutched her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek down next to his as he stood up.

“You’re so strong Shiro-chan…” Momo pulled back a hand to smooth the wrinkles of his kimono. “Like obviously your shoulders are a lot wider now,” she observed. “But I didn’t know you were this strong.”

Momo yelped as he shifted her with a jolt, making her knock her chin on the back of his head. “That was mean, Shiro-chan,” she said though she could feel her heart racing as he chuckled. “That’s what you get for making comments like that,” he responded dryly, though she could hear the slight smile in his voice.

The girl tightened her arms around him again, swinging her feet back and forth. “You’re a lot funnier than people take you for, Shiro-chan.”

“It’s a secret I try not to share,” he responded to which Momo laughed out loud. 

She snuggled closer into his back, relishing how secure she felt as he carried her away from the bar. “Shiro-chan…we’re friends again, right?” she mumbled softly.

Toushiro scoffed, feeling her doze into his shoulder. “Yeah…we’re friends.”

Momo fell asleep with a smile on her face, feeling more at ease than she had ever been before.

—

Author's Notes: You know the stressful thing about writing about a wedding party? It's almost like you're planning it!! Is there enough ice for the drinks? IS everyone dancing? What kind of music do they need? Who's going to be the wedding crasher? What are the decorations? How can I show that Byakuya has no chill and spares no expense in anyway he can? Where's the food??? IS EVERYONE HAVING FUN??

This was one of my first times writing Renjii and of course I have to do it during his wedding day but oh well. I would really love to write more about him and Momo's friendship together, and I thought it was a perfect place for Momo to compare herself in what she has and lacks since they both came from similar relationships to their childhood friends.

I think my trend has also to leave the Hitsuhina moments until the very end and then flourish the beginning immensely with self reflections and them talking to everyone BUT each other (which results in much longer fics)

[beatleskinkmeme]

Saltburn AU set in the 60's or 70's, with George as Oliver, and John and Paul both as Felix. They're rich-rich, popular and inseperable, joined secretly by music. George is jealous and all he wants is to have them to himself, even if it means surgically pulling them apart and trying to make them hate eachother so that he can have all their undivided attention, forever in competition for him. George tries to meet Paul first (because he's the most approachable one) by cutting a guitar string just enough so it snaps when he's playing, and heroically lending him one of his strings. Saltburn (or whatever you wanna call it like crackerbox palace or smthn) is primarily a McCartney household with John staying there since his mothers death, despite Mimi's disaproval. Ringo's their only closest friend, and the only decent person in the house when he comes over. Pete Best as Michael from the begining of the film who used to hang out but now is tired of the JohnAndPaul bullshit. Authours choice of if anyone dies and who dies.

.

[thebibliosphere]

Hi Joy!

I hope this doesn't come across as rude/overstepping, and it's possible you have answered this question before (i cannot find such an ask though, gotta love tumblr). But I was hoping you would be able to give some advice/explain your journey, on how a chronically-ill person looking to become a published authour, and sustain themselves on it, would go about it? From what i've seen on your blog so far, it seems like most indie authours make a pittance for their work (when it's worth so much more), and i'm curious how you're able to make it work without having a second job to supplement income? As you probably well know, it will be extremely hard to have energy to write if one is also chronically ill and having to work full time to live... i'm lucky enough to have some universal healthcare (canada), but that is about it. Also if you prefer not to publicly answer this, please feel free to message me instead! Though also feel free not answer at all, of course- i don't want to put you out. Thank you for all your advice and encouragement for your fans and followers over the years, you really are a joy!

I've posted about it before, goodness knows where it might be in my tags, but the only reason I'm able to work full time as a writer is threefold:

The generosity and support of my patrons on Patreon/Ko-fi/Payhip.

My spouse works full time.

The income I now get from my books.

If I lost any of those three things, I wouldn't be able to write full time, and even then I still take occasional editing gigs to make ends meet.

The truth is, there are very few authors who can make writing their full-time gig—at least not their fiction writing. Many authors have "day" jobs and write on top of that. I've been extraordinarily lucky in that my book sales have been enough to let me scale back my other work, but like I said, I don't make a sustainable living from it.

I'm just no longer financially sinking, which is what was happening for the 5 years in the run up to Phangs being published. Things have stabilized. They've stabilized at rock bottom, but even rock bottom can offer stability when you've been in free fall for almost a decade.

I'm sorry I can't give you more helpful advice, but this is the best known "secret" of the industry. Many authors have day jobs you'll never hear about because it's not associated with their author name.

Unless you manage to get a big book deal—and even then, trad-publishing doesn't pay remotely anywhere near as much as it did unless you're already a big name-- then you will probably be sustaining your work through some other means. I did it for years with editing and then when my blog took off, through Patreon and editing. It's only been a very new development in my life where I've been able to give up editing full-time to write my own stuff instead.

Sorry. I wish there was a secret, but there's not.

[platonicallylovesick]

Rumplestiltskin going on this whole journey after being banished by Belle from Storybrooke trying to 'meet the authour' to 'finally give villains a good ending' is so funny like babes have you just tried BEING A GOOD PERSON.

REAL like bro you could just... Not Be Literally The Scum Of Both Realms for idk a week? You JUST got married and instantly turned on your heel and was Just the Worst, you couldn't have at least waited through the honeymoon phase??

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Between The Sheets

Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Summary:A lazy Sunday morning in bed with Steve leads to something more...

Warnings:Smut, 18+, Unprotected Sex (obviously), Spooning, Cock Warming, Cuddle-fucking, Breeding Kink, Daddy/Mommy kink (kind of??)

Word Count:990

Authour’s Note: OH WE MAKING BABIES I’ve written a few filthy fics before, but this one is truly honest-to-god filthy..so I’m sorry.. also sorry if there’s any mistakes!

It was no secret to you about how Steve wanted a family of his own. A family of his own with you. The memory of him sharing his fantasy of having ‘six little nuggets’ running around always lived in the back of your mind. 

It was also no secret to you that Steve loved being snuggled up to you. Spooning close to you, his chest pressed to your back whilst he peppered small kisses to your shoulders, neck and behind your ear.

His arm would always sling its way around your body, his large hands finding their place holding your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples, rolling them under his fingertips.

It was one of those lazy Sunday mornings where neither of you needed to be anywhere, and the warmth of your bed was more appealing than the cold outside world. Your naked bodies huddled together, his morning wood eagerly pressing against your bare pussy.

“Keep me warm for a bit, Honey?” He rasped out, his voice husky with sleep.

“As you wish” you smiled as you hoisted your leg up closer to your chest giving him access to your pussy.

Steve swipes himself through your folds a few times, coating himself in the wetness of your arousal, before guiding his increasingly hard and thick cock towards your core. He slowly sinks inside you inch by inch until he’s as close to you as he can be.   

Steve's size is always a stretch to you. He's just so thick that the press of him inside you is never anything short of a tight squeeze, and yet, you welcome the delicious burn that comes with him being inside you.

Everytime Steve pushes himself into your bare cunt, with nothing separating you from him, his mind betrays him and all he can think about is breeding your pretty pussy. Filling you up until you’re so absolutely full with him.  

You knew what Steve was thinking about, he was thinking about making a start on getting those six little nuggets that he so badly wanted. You knew he was thinking about it, because it’s what you were thinking about too.

“Want you so bad, honey” he purred against your ear “wanna give you my kids”

“Well what are you waiting for big boy, let’s do it” you say suggestively over your shoulder.

Steve swears that his brain stops functioning for a moment, images of you all big and swollen with his child flooding his mind. It didn’t take very long before his hips snapped into action, sliding almost all of the way out of your warm wet pussy, before his hips thrust back up to meet yours, filling you with his thick cock. 

He keeps fucking up into you whilst his large hands are holding the weight of your boobs, squeezing the soft flesh of them under his fingers. He’s always been obsessed with your boobs, and in this position he was able to take full advantage of the feel of the soft weight of your tits in his large hands.

“Think about how big your tits’ll be when they’re full of milk…fuck” he groans out continuing to toy with your peaked nipples.

His hand snakes down to splay over your stomach as he holds you close, whilst thrusting up into you with his thick cock.

“Can you feel me right here, Honey?” He says pressing his hand down on your stomach.  “I’m practically in your guts” his voice groans out.

Steve always managed to leave you breathless every time. The stretch of his cock filling you so completely. 

It wasn’t enough for Steve to be this close to you, he wanted to look at your face as he filled you. He pulled out of you briefly with a grunt before gently man-handling you until you were laying flat on your back. He moved himself so that he was hovering over you, caging you safe between strong arms.

“Wanted to see your pretty face, Princess. Wanted to look at you whilst I breed this pretty little cunt.” He says as he presses the red leaky head of his cock at your entrance, before rocking his hips to slide himself deep inside you once more.

 You reached your hand up to gently cup his face in your hand, stroking your thumb over his cheek. There was something about being under him like this that would send your heart racing. No matter what, he was always your Stevie.

“Making me feel so good, Stevie…Feel so full…” you whined out.

“Yeah…you’re so tight, honey…gonna fill you up so good.” he moaned out between grunts. 

“Gonna make me a Mommy, Stevie?”

“Fuck…” he drawled out. “Yeah Honey..Daddy’s gonna fill you up and make you a Mommy” His hips continued thrusting into you, whilst his hand dropped down to rub over your sensitive clit. 

It didn’t take very much more than a few more rolls of Steve’s hips and his fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit before you were coming. Squeezing his thick cock as your orgasm rushed over you.

The squeeze of your tight wet walls, hugging his length so deliciously was what sent Steve over the edge. Burying himself so deep inside, whilst he stilled above you, filling you with the hot spurts of his release.

He looks down at you through the mess of his hair that’s fallen over his eyes as he leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

Pulling away from his lips, you reach your hand up once more to rake your fingers through his hair, moving it out of his eyes.

“So…Daddy, huh?” you lightly tease.

“You started it, Mommy”

“Do you think it worked?” you smile.

“Well I suppose there’s no harm in doing that again..you know just to make sure...I know I certainly would be up for round two if you are.” he chuckles.

“I’m ready when you are, Harrington.” You smirked.

[itzrafee]

The Boy and the Heron, or… How Do You Live?

I remember the first time I heard about this movie, years ago. It was in an article from one of the big names that report on films and other such things. I knew three things about this movie going into it. One: that it was the film Miyazaki was leaving to his grandson. Two: that it was called How Do You Live? in Japanese. And Three: shortly before I watched it, I heard it was about death. When I heard the first two, oh so long ago, I had to hold back tears. There are people that affect you in life. Many that you know personally, but others, through art, reach across time and space, across nationalities and barriers of language and through your chest to cup your heart and soul and mold them. Miyazaki changed me. From that first fateful meeting when me and my brother snuck upstairs to the adult section of the library and picked up the DVD of the only animated film among grown up rom-coms and dramas to the repeated checkouts and uncomfortable squirming in our seats at the terrifying and traumatic scenes that played out. From the cheap thrills of the Rodents of Unusual Size in The Princess Bride, to pretty much everything in Neverending Story to the morbid curiosity of Zoro sawing his legs off in One Piece to the existential excavation of my soul that Spirited Away participated in, the things that terrified me, shaped me. And almost nothing as much as Miyazaki. 

Not only had he hooked me like a floundering fish and dragged me to the shores of soul-affecting cinema, he had also given me a glimpse into what art could do. How it could creep into your dreams and guide you down candle lit streets and past food stalls where pig shaped men and women ate and over a bridge that only spirits should pass. How it could change the way you looked at the world. He took my hand and put it in Haku and Chihiro’s as we all crossed that last threshold together. Baptism, christening, whatever you call it, it was a religious experience. In my head I was a man, ready to take on the terrors of the world. Of course though, that wasn’t the case. But a few  years later I had grown some, the illusions of adulthood dashed against the rocks as I buried my head into books, Diana Wynne Jones quickly becoming my favourite authour. Whether it was the maybe too adult for me Fire and Hemlock, or the just right Merlin Conspiracy or the maybe too young Chrestomanci series, I was in love. It’s a love that still burns today and it was my first serious creative crush, seeing someone who spoke to my soul and knowing I wanted *something* from them. Creative Crushes are terrifying things, all-consuming and burning, what they are is the love of an artist’s influence on your soul. It’s seeing someone you can only dream of becoming so all you want is to become like them. As you grow, you sort through the feelings and do what you really wanted to do. You take a tube and stick one end onto that so-affecting piece of work and then you part your flesh and crack open a few ribs and plug the other end into your heart. And as the slow drip, drip, drip of their creativity fuels you, you too start pumping out stuff of your own. It’s not just consumption. It’s creation.

Alls that to say, when I learnt about the film of Howl’s Moving Castle, I lost my goddamn mind. That was it. While Spirited Away had unearthed and wiped away the dust and cobwebs from my newly burgeoning creative soul, Howl’s Moving Castle lifted it up and gave it great big hug, before rearing back and chucking it straight into the air, trusting that I’d learn how to use my wings before I hit the ground. And I think I did. At least I hope so. Howl’s Moving Castle was a spell cast on me, both Mrs. Jones and Miyazaki Sensei taking turns at the cauldron before sprinkling it into those neat little packages Sophie was known for. And all this to say, Miyazaki was my next big creative crush, Spirited Away’s impact compounding from this new insight as well as giving me my next clue as to what a creative crush really was. And again, alls this to say, Miyazaki was important to me. I grew up with Ghibli. With Totoro and Whisper of the Heart whittling my soul into new shapes. And then learning that even great people: artists, directors, and even Parents, could be fallible. I learnt about Goro and Hayao, a son and a father, locked in a love that bled all over their work and finding all of the ways to not say “I love you”. I learnt about his other son, quietly hidden from sight, whittling away at wood. And for the first time I didn’t see a monolith, an obelisk unmoving, a titan of his industry. No, I saw another human being, struggling to be a person.

So it’s with those three pieces of knowledge and a lifetime of knowing Miyazaki through a screen that I watched The Boy and the Heron, my first Miyzaki film on the big screen. I had not slept a wink for the last 24 hours or so, my body hyped up on the adrenaline of finally fulfilling a promise made almost two decades ago in the adults section of my local library. I was traveling a bit. Instead of walking over to my favourite theater, a cozy and familiar joint minutes from my house, I was going to the one at the local mall, a half an hour away by car. I settled into too small and too hard seats as the effects of the hastily consumed and poorly made instant coffee made my eyelids tingle with a caffeinated buzz. I settled in among the few scant fellow viewers also wired enough to watch a movie in the theatre on a Monday night and beside my brother with whom I’d started this journey so long ago. Slowly though, people trickled in, and minutes before the film started, the theatre was full. These were all people who had their own journey to get here. All maybe just as winding as mine. And it was with these people, that I saw The Boy and the Heron.

I have a lot of thoughts, and I’ve just gotten back from the theatre to regurgitate my rough feelings onto the page here but I understand some people might see this without having watched the film first so I’m going to be throwing everything under the cut. I haven’t read anything else about this so I could be missing things or misconstruing them but that’s the joy of talking about the art we take in, isn’t it? Everyone’s got their own unique little tube pumping out a special combination of thoughts and ideas that’s just them. So it’s rough but analysis, thoughts, connections and and abundant spoilers, you’ll find that all under the keep reading, so click it once, and maybe twice and keep on reading! Aside from that though, I did want to start this account off on a different note, something a little more crunchy and technical and dry so I’m super grateful that I get to do it with something as meaningful to me as a Miyazaki film. So without further ado let's talk Miyazaki!

I am an unabashed Cinephile. Film Grandpa Scorcese says streaming is a cancer? Why yes sir, I’ll nod along. Distinguished leaders of the Film Bro crowd Chris Nolan and cutey Tarantino say we need to preserve the theater experience? I’ll salute and shout along a “Yup, Yup!” And Mr. Magnolia PTA himself says another not so dissimilar thing? Well, you got my agreement there, pal. So it’s safe to say I love film and as such it can also rightly be assumed that I love the theatre experience. Though from my previous paragraphs you’d be forgiven for thinking that I didn’t like the the one for The Boy and The Heron. You couldn’t be more wrong. Films are imperfect things. Flawed as much as the people that make them. Watching these flawed expressions of our souls in unmemorable arrangements just doesn’t cut it. Whether the experience is awful or above and beyond in presentation, a memorable experience, the creaking of the chairs, a certain musty kind of smell, and the wind rattling through the building as people shift in uncomfortable seats, those are all preferable to conditions that can be called “just right”. And so it was, with not all things, “just right”, that the screen darkened and the movie started playing. 

I have been to the theatre both alone and with others on every day of the week and at every time possible. Other than the library, bookstores, and my room, the theatre is another one of those safe spaces that feels almost holy, sacred even. It’s consecrated grounds for latchkey kids and the spawn of emotionally unavailable parents. It’s a confessional, a dark room where your secrets reflect back to you, played out in garish displays of excess by people that look way too good way too often. Not to beat the horse corpse of the Pandemic black and blue, but Covid changed things for the once holy place. It’s become a little bit more uncivilized, a little bit more rowdy, and a lot more wild west-like. It’s not uncommon to hear a prepubescent voice yell out an admittedly funny joke at a heavy moment and have the rest of the audience respond in a wildly different ways. So it was with that knowledge, knowledge of what a Monday 7PM December crowd was like, and what the common audience had mutated into that I saw a magical sight. Magic befitting an equally magical film. Monday nights are for a more film loving crowd, rushing to theatres as soon as the hustle and bustle crowd of the weekend had left. But even by those lofty standards and against the new wave of theater audiences, the hush that fell over the audience as the screen opened up on wartime Japan was transcendental. People leaned in, the seats seemed to shut up on their own and suddenly stopped squeaking and the collective breath we took in only let out as Mahito rushed back to put on his clothes. The movie had started and it had already captured us. 

Right away Mahito is an incredibly fleshed out character. You get those lifelike moments straight out of the gate, rushing to windows too fast and having to stop, kicking off sandals with limited success and the billowing of clothes as feelings and emotions surge through and out of the character. And then it shows everything you need to know about Mahito and his mother in one shot. He loves her, he’s going to chase after her and even leap into the fire. But first he has to go back and look presentable so his mom doesn’t worry. It’s a heartbreaking show of love that slowly dawns on the audience as Mahito goes racing into the fire, the heat blasting him back and snatching away the tortured screams for his mother. 

I searched in vain for a while and the origin of the idea is vaguely lost in some corner of my mind, but a filmmaking great, whether it was through Orson Welles’ verbose speeches or Mark Cousins’ lilting Belfast accent in The Story of Film or someone else altogether, once impressed upon my mind the ability of film to manipulate time like no other. If I remember or someone else can I’ll make sure to amend this but essentially film and editing were time machines, and could jump forwards and backwards, sideways and upside down and do loop de loops with time to try and have the greatest effect on the audience. And Miyazaki uses the time machine of editing for a gut punch, throwing us into Mahito’s shoes. Only seconds after losing his mom, do we see the person who’s supposed to be his new mom. Considerable time has passed, Shoichi has moved on and remarried and Natsuko is even so well into her pregnancy that Mahito can feel the baby kicking, but the wound is still fresh in Mahito’s mind. To him, his mother only died seconds ago. Natsuko is an imposter trying to take her place. Very few films have done such an effective job in making the audience understand what the character is going through. Miyazaki makes us feel the same betrayal Mahito feels by the use of the clever little time machine that is editing. 

While Mahito’s relationship to Natsuko and his father and other people are interesting, there is a giant shadow cast over it all. Because in the end, while it is a film, it is also something else. A lesson. And an Apology. Miyazaki as the creator and every other adult in the film, is speaking to Mahito, the avatar for his grandson, trying to teach him as much as he can, before he passes on. But it’s not just that. It’s also an apology. An apology thats spans time, from across his career in filmmaking by drawing on imagery from Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle and even Goro’s Earthsea, as well as the Heron’s Disney-esque flapping of wings as he tries to fly to the Looney Tunes like wink from a Parakeet as it sharpens it’s knife so it can eat Mahito. Miyazaki makes sure that his descendants understand that this is an apology not just from a sad old man, but also an apology from him across time for all the mistakes he’s ever made. But first, the lesson. 

And the first and foremost lesson to his grandson, and to Mahito, is to be kind. Through thick and thin. Through hardship and irritation. Through change and stagnation. But that lesson doesn’t land unless Miyazaki shows us who Mahito really is. A scared and small child, doing his best to put on a front that matches his father’s apparent confidence. It starts with Mahito’s helpless screams against the fire but then we see the gentleness with which Natsuko looks at him, him seeing so much smaller now that he isn’t puffing up his chest or sitting silent and straight. Then a humorous scene where he catches a glimpse of his father and his stepmother kissing. Too young to fully understand pregnancy, and seeming smaller than ever before, this act is what fully cements in Mahito’s mind that his father has indeed moved on. So he puts on a brave front, copying his father in the only way he can, silent strength that he supposes him to have, because if has to speak to Natsuko he might not be able to get through a sentence without his voice cracking. This imitation of his father is also a lesson in Shoichi’s fallibility but that’s something we'll get to later.

While this false bravado keeps people who desperately want to get close to him at bay, it slowly melts away as we see the real Mahito, a kind boy who does his best to help others. Despite knowing that the promise of the Heron is a lie, Mahito also knows it’s the only way to rescue Natsuko, someone he still hasn’t fully accepted outwardly. His inner self shines through time and time again though. While he keeps Natsuko at a distance, his heart yearns for his mother and all the different ways she presents herself in all the different people only serves to confuse Mahito, though he always ends up reaching out. 

Miyazaki shows the audience, Mahito, and his grandson the beauty of being kind. First through helping the Warawara be born, perhaps one of them his new little brother, to burying the pelicans to even restoring the heron’s beak, someone who did his best to be an enemy. An attempt which failed in the face of Mahito’s kindness.

Before we get to the second lesson, I think it’s also important that we touch on the Warawara and the Pelican’s. It’s easy to see what they are. The birds of the film represent soldiers, the Parakeet’s the Japanese who fly the planes Mahito’s father, seen in the Parakeet King, makes and the pelican’s the foreign soldiers, sent to a foreign land to die. While they dash the prospects of what will end up being Japan’s youth in the Warawara, they were also a product of the system, a cruel and uncaring world, built from the ground up to fail. And in this comparison, Miyazaki also lays out another reason why kindness is so important, while people seem to be evil or adversarial, it quite often is not their fault, them merely being products of their system. The young of the Pelicans face the same plight as the warawara. When Kiriko discusses how the Warawara haven’t flown in quite a while because they haven’t eaten it’s meant to serve as a parallel to later when the dying Pelican mentions how the young of his species are forgetting how to fly. Miyazaki, always concerned with how the world is being hurt, and while a crotchety old grandpa, looks us all in the eye and apologizes for a world not made for us. A world where we’re not meant to succeed. The only tools we’ll have are kindness and each other. 

And in that is the second lesson, that we need to keep reaching out. Mahito keeps everyone at arms length at the beginning of the movie but after a disastrous encounter with the Heron he starts reaching out. He learns to sharpen his knife by connecting with the old man, and using that newfound sharpness and using his own hand and skill, carves his first weapon against the Heron. It’s what lets him take his first step and gains him a guide. From there he reaches out to Kiriko in the past and then despite the Heron’s apparent betrayal, Mahito still helps him plug the hole in his beak. Afterwards he connects with Himi and in one final scene where he accepts Natsuko, he finally finds the love of his mother once again. 

The final lesson is the lesson that leads into the apology, the fallibility of those who seem to be in charge. Mahito imitates his father and his interests, because he sees his father as the image Shoichi crafts. Shoichi is almost a parody of a man. A Randian business tycoon who makes airplanes. Like Rand’s misguided notions, Shoichi seems to be the pinnacle of manhood, solving problems, getting over his grief and overall just being confident and strong. It’s no surprise that when the motivation for that bravado, his son. disappears, that we see the humanity of Shoichi and Miyazaki points out how awful and ridiculous this fantasy of detached and powerful men really is. Shoichi slumps and is downtrodden and even in his heroic charge made to look like fool as parakeet’s vacate their bowels on him and he mistakenly and hilariously proclaims that “Mahito has turned into a Budgie!” Shoichi shows the ridiculousness of pretending to be in control but Mahito’s other Parental figure, Himi shows the faults of those in charge who claim to have good intentions. While she drives away the pelicans, she burns up the Warawara and even is the catalyst for the horrific scene of the Pelican dying. And another reason Mahito has to grow up way too fast, as he once again contends with Death but this time in a visceral unreality. Miyazaki tells the audience that while those in charge may think they are doing the best thing they can with the best intentions, they may not be able to see what someone like Mahito can see, all the unintended side effects and harm. Miyazaki is clear, adults are fallible, adults make mistakes, and they’re not always the ones in the right. 

And it’s in the final figure of fallibility that we also get the other big message of the film, the apology. Miyazaki positions himself as every adult in the film but the most important and most blatant is the Grand-Uncle. The Grand-Uncle could not be a more obvious representation of Miyazaki if he tried. He makes worlds through the building blocks of every artist, shapes. And his tools are these colourless three dimensional shapes that look exactly like the first form of major practice an artist takes on as they learn about perspective and shadows; form drawings. And it’s these building blocks, that are made from stone, that make up the twisted world that haunts the Grand-Uncle’s descendants. The Grand-Uncle pressures Mahito to take them on, and Mahito, who’s already felt the pain of this crafted world, from the self inflicted injury in the real world to the systemic oppression of this dream world, rejects it to build his own world with his own hands, using wood. 

Now while that may seem an esoteric idea, wood versus stone, it goes into several things. First of all, stones and these hard materials are a foundation for the the other world, it’s what the meteorite is made out of. But wood is also a softer material. Mahito had already found a calling in woodworking early on, and it serves as a contrast to Shoichi’s metal and glass world. A world of death and destruction as was seen clearly in Miyazaki’s last outing, The Wind Rises. But it’s also a direct allusion to his real life. If you remember from the beginning of this probably too big round-up, I talked of Miyazaki’s other son, a woodworker. Miyazaki is as explicit with this as possible. He shows how awful it is to take on another’s burden. He’s built a shadow that will follow his sons and their children and all of his descendants through all their lives. And because they’re his blood it’s something that seems to be hoisted on them. It was with Goro and it almost destroyed their relationship. He directly compares this ordeal to his other son’s, the woodworker who chose to go his own way. Mahito takes on that role while also taking on the role of Goro and his grandson. It’s an apology for being away and it's an apology for hoisting this world upon Goro. But zooming out a bit from this family drama, what we also see is Miyazaki giving one final lesson. Not just to his grandson but the audience as well. He see the world him and his peers have built and he apologizes for it. And he sees how much of a burden it is to us who are supposed to inherit it, and he offers a different solution. The film asks, How Do You Live? And Miyazaki answers, you make your own life. You make your own world without the tools of those that came before you. Don’t inherit our mistakes, don’t take on our burdens. Build something new. Build something better...

Wowee, that was long. If you made it here, if you made it to the end, I have to sincerely thank you. I hope it was an enjoyable read and if not an enjoyable read, an informative one. I’m sure I missed a lot and maybe I’ll come back to it but these were my initial thoughts on the film. I’d love to hear your thoughts too if you wanna share and hopefully, I’ll see you again soon. I’ve been Rafee. 

[redundant2]

Valentine Low's book Courtiers, Part 2: Tiaragate

Interesting excerpts from the book, Part 2

Much has been said and speculated about in regard to the tiara worn by Meghan at her wedding to Harry. Here is what Valentine Low had to say about "Tiaragate" in his book, which was published before The Queen passed away:

"Being a royal would always mean dressing up -- and for the women, that meant jewellery. The Queen would sometimes lend pieces to existing and incoming members of the royal family. It was a gesture of welcome and support, but it could lead to problems."

"In the months before Harry's wedding to Meghan Markle in May 2018, Meghan was told that the Queen would lend her a tiara for the big day, just as she had done for Kate Middleton seven years earlier. An appointment was made in February for Meghan to look at a shortlist of appropriate tiaras at Buckingham Palace. Accompanied by Harry, and under the watchful eye of Angela Kelly, the Queen's dresser, who is also curator of the Queen's jewellery, Meghan opted for Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau Tiara. So far, so good. Despite some confusing reports, there was no row about which tiara Meghan could have. She got her first choice. It was what happened afterwards that was the problem."

"Wearing a tiara is not a straightforward business. Hair and tiara have to be considered together, and Meghan needed to be sure her hairdresser had an opportunity to rehearse before the day itself. Unfortunately, on the day that her hairdresser, Serge Normant was in town, Angela Kelly --who has a very close relationship with Her Majesty and is an influential figure at Buckingham Palace -- was not available.

Serge Normant, Meghan's wedding hairdresser

"And if Angela Kelly was not available, neither was the tiara. In Harry's view, this was Kelly being obstructive, plain and simple. According to Finding Freedom, a decidedly pro-Harry and Meghan account of the couple's life together, Kelly had ignored repeated requests from Kensington Palace to set up a date for a hair trial. And Harry was furious. 'Nothing could convince Harry that some of the old guard at the Palace simply didn't like Meghan and would stop at nothing to make her life difficult,' wrote the book's authours, Omid Scobie and Carolyn Durand."

(I ... don't think this book quote means what the authors meant it to say. Maybe they meant to write that Harry felt the old guard at the Palace were out to block Meghan, and nothing would convince him otherwise? Tell me Finding Freedom wasn't edited well without telling me...)

"But there is another version: that it wasn't a snub, and that Harry and Meghan were naive at best, entitled at worst, to expect others to jump to their command when they hadn't even bothered to make an appointment. As a source told the Mail on Sunday:"

"'Meghan demanded access to the tiara. She didn't make an appointment with Angela, but said, "We're at Buckingham Palace, we want the tiara. Can we have it now please?" Angela essentially said, "I'm very sorry, but that's not how it works. There's protocol in place over these jewels. They're kept under very tight lock and key. You can't turn up and demand to have the tiara just because your hairdresser happens to be in town."'

"This did not go down well with Harry. He tried to get what Meghan wanted by ringing others to put pressure on Kelly to bend the rules, and in the course of his less-than-diplomatic efforts is said to have used some fairly fruity language. Whether Harry swore at his grandmother's aide, or about her, is not clear; either way, it is probably language that Kelly, the daughter of a Liverpool docks crane driver, has heard before. She is a forthright individual, who has not earned the nickname AK-47 for nothing. But she wasn't impressed. She reported all this to the Queen, who summoned Harry to a private meeting. 'He was firmly put in his place,' a source said. 'He had been downright rude.'

It was a very simple lesson: don't mess with AK-47."

From the book Courtiers by Valentine Low, pp 125-126.

Her Majesty The Queen Elizabeth II, American Vogue editor Anna Wintour and Angela Kelly, the Queen's dresser.

This is a great book, and I highly recommend reading it. It's chock full of interesting anecdotes. There is quite a bit more interesting info about Angela Kelly, who seems to have been somewhat sidelined since the Queen's passing. I do hope that Kelly did get the grace-and-favour home that the Queen had promised her for life, as she seemed to loyally protect the Queen at all times.

In regard to the tiara worn by Meghan at her wedding to Harry, some have speculated that it was a replica of Queen Mary's Diamond Bandeau, with moissanite gems instead of real diamonds - due to the way the light reflected on the stones. Would be interested if anyone has further thoughts or expertise on that theory, if you'd like to share.

I'll share more in subsequent posts about Angela Kelly, and of course, about the courtiers' version of events surrounding Harry and Meghan.

[cassiaratheslytherpuff]

Posted January 2023. (Originally posted a couple of years back, but I accidentally deleted it when I went to update it with more fics)

A list of podfics I absolutely adore - in alfabetical order. As always, please read the tags and warnings before listening.

Title: All Life is Yours to Miss Read by: originally reads Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 11h Rating: Mature Summary: Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go. This one always makes me smile. It's very focused on Draco, and his journey to figuring out how to really live his life instead of just excist in it. Beautiful story that's beautifully read in a soothing voice.

Title: An Owl Named Romeo  Read by: fire_juggler  Authour: Rickey Length:~ 3h Rating: Explicit Summary: Draco breeds owls, Harry’s an Auror, and an owl named Romeo is going to bring them together. This one has Auror!Harry and Owl breeder!Draco, and it’s a wonderfull mix of humour, mystery, angst and fluff. Romeo is an amazing owl, and fire_juggler reads the story wonderfully.

Title: Away Childish Things Read by: RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234) Authour: lettered Length:~ 14h Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him. Beautiful fic read so wonderfully it made me ache with all the feels.

Title: Blood Magic Read by: houseofhebrideanblacks, Thestralsofspinnersend Authours: houseofhebrideanblacks, Thestralsofspinnersend Length:~ 33h Rating: Explicit Summary: A story of thestral magic, forest lore and recovery from all the things that haunt us. This is a beautiful story of recovery, friendship, love and life. And in being a story about that it exlpores the darker sides of those same themes; illness, loneliness and death. The authours read the story themselves, giving different voices to Draco and Harry's POV. It's a beautiful listen.

Title: Blue Roses and Other Impossible Things Read by: Sandstripe Authour: Cassiara Length:~ 3h Rating: Explicit Summary: After Harry saved Draco from the Room of Requirement there was a moment when Draco gave Harry a look. Harry didn’t know what to make of it, and he had a war to fight so he ignored it. Now though, they’re back at Hogwarts sharing a dorm and Harry is obsessed with seeing that look again. I wrote this fic, but I had to rec it here anyways because Sandstripe does such a wonderful reading of it. It's an 8th year fic with coming out and first times and a little angst.

Title: Burning day: A Tale of Rebirth Read by: fire_juggler Authour: tealeaf523 Length:~ 2.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Looking for a bit of solitude over his winter holiday, Harry Potter rents a home in Scotland, only to end up in the middle of adventure amongst the snow-blanketed hills. There is a local in Castle Valley who looks uncannily like his Hogwarts school rival, but he has no memory of meeting Harry in the past. However, Harry is determined to find out what happened to Draco Malfoy between his disappearance and finding his new identity as a charming unicorn trainer at the Scotland Unicorn Reservation for Lost Youths. Unicorns and memory loss and falling in love? Sign me up! fire_juggler did a brilliant job bringing this to life.

Title: Chasing Shadows Read by: lastontheboat Authour: manixzen Length:~ 9.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub. A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers. This fic is so good! Harry has hidden being gay for years and years and his growth to live as who he is is beautifully interwoven with him and Draco falling in love and a thrilling crime plot.Also I just love Draco in this! He's grown so much and is so attentive and he makes the smut so steamy! The reading of it is so well done and just brings so much life to the fic!

Title: Foundations'Verse - Reparations, Foundations Read by: 6shotsamericano Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~10h + 27.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Reparations: Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places. Foundations: When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love and complications. This verse was one of my first ever Drarry fics, and the podfic of it was my first ever podfic experience. Both were major influences on the fact that I now love both Drarry and podfic. The fics are a masterpiece and 6shotsamericano reads them in such a wonderfull way that it's easy to immerse yourself in the story.

Title: Headlights in the Snow Read by: magsmagicalnightmare Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 10h Rating: Mature Summary: What’s big and purple and smells like tea? Harry is about to find out. Advent fic 2016. You can never go wrong with Saras_Girls christmas fics, and this is another great one! And it's so brilliantly read I felt like I was on the bus listening in on conversations. magsmagicalnightmare brought this fic so much life and personality and it's brilliant!

Title: Here's the Pencil, Make it Work Read by: teas_me Authour: ignatiustrout Length:~ 5.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry thinks, "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?" This one has Harry discovering Draco in the muggle world, a building friendship, coming out and wonderful humour. I loved all the friendships in this story, and the way ignatiustrout voices them.

Title: If the Fates Allow Read by: lastontheboat Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~8h Rating: Mature Summary: What's that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He'll eat some cake and drink some wine. Because he is completely FINE. -A story about life's disregard for our plans. An advent story in podfic form?! I’ll be listening to this every single December.

Title: In Evidence of Magical Theory Read by: Sandstripe Authour: bixgirl1 Length:~ 2.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible. In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead. Wonderfull read of a wonderfull story! Accidental bonding and forced proximity in a Hogwarts 8th year story hits all the spots.

Title: Keep Holding On Read by: Thunder_of_Dragons Authour:  gnarf, with art by MaesterChill. Length: ~3.5h Rating: Mature Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end. This deals wonderfully with healing and building a bond, and it’s read really beautifully. 

Title: Modern Love Read by: lastontheboat Authour: tackytiger Length:~ 5.5 h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all. I really enjoyed this one. The story is really engaging and full of emotion, and the reader conveys them perfectly. 

Title: Newts Read by: Lazulus Authour: astolat Length:~ 1.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: “I’m twenty-eight!” Harry said. “I’ve been an Auror for ten years! You want me to go back to Hogwarts now?" 

Title: On a Clear Day Read by: 6shotsamericano Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 5h Rating: Mature Summary: Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly. I've listened to this one too many times to count over the years. Humour, falling in love and learning to live.

Title: Open for repairs Read by: RattleandHum (ThirdEye1234) Authour: FeelsForBreakfast Length:~ 3h Rating: Mature Summary: After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.Feat. sad boys in jumpers and more ABBA than is probably necessary. I forgot how much I loved this fic, but the podfic made me fall in love all over again. I loved all the voices and the portrayal of the emotions.

Title: Running on air Authour: eleventy7 Length:~ 8h Rating: Teen and up Summary: Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. This is a beautiful story and it's read just as beautifully.

Title: Secrets Read by: Opalsong Authour: Vorabiza (Biza) Length:~ 44h Rating: Explicit Summary: Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer becomes filled with activity and many secrets. He generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side. H/D post-HBP This story is an intense alternate book 7, and Opalsong reads it so engagingly. 

Title: Stately Homes of Wiltshire Read by: Lazulus Authour: waspabi Length:~ 5.5h Rating: Explicit Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case. This fic is so lovely, both the story and the reading has made me laugh on several occations. It's a mystery with love and friendships and figuring out what you want from life.

Title: Temptation on the Warfront Read by: Sandstripe Authour: alizarincrims0n Length:~ 14h Rating: Explicit Summary: Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Title: The Boy Who Only Lived Twice Read by: TheOneCalledEli Authour: lettered Length:~ 6h Rating: Explicit Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks. Drarry as secret spies is so much fun and excitement, and the slow falling in love and wanting but not knowing was just so perfect. And TheOneCalledEli reads it so brilliantly, it made me fall in love with this fic all over again!

Title: This Summer Read by: RattleandHum Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 3.5 Rating: Teen Summary: This is a summery romantic comedy featuring my favourite ensemble cast, in which Harry is confused, Draco is Draco, and Hermione attempts to eat all the things. Costume parties and pining and all the good things! This fic is sweet and funny and listening to it made me smile.

Title: Turn Read by: Queenie_Mab Authour: Saras_Girl Length:~ 37h Rating: Mature Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently. This story is a classic, and the reading of it fully lives up to the quality of the written fic; absolutely wonderfull! Another one I've listened to more times than I can count.

Title: (Un)wanted Read by: aibidil Authour: aibidil Length:~4h Rating: Explicit Summary: Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected. This one is so good. It's about being lonely and feeling unwanted, but finding family and learning to accept love when offered as well as loving oneself. I love Harry and Hermione's relationship in this. Actually, the women in general are awesome.

Title: What We Pretend We Can't See Read by: FayJay Authour: Gyzym Length:~ 13h Rating: Mature/Explicit Summary: Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought. (Auror Potter is summoned to a break-in at a rather eccentric little museum in the house he used to own.) This is one of those fics where I can finish listening and just start it over again immediatly. It's got magical houses, house elf magic, friendships, humour, and I absolutely love how Draco and Harry are both written in this. FayJay gives amazing life to the charachters, and this one is just so wonderful.

Title: When Times are Dire Read by: aibidil Authour: aibidil Length:~ 14h Rating: Explicit Summary: Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy. This fic is so interesting. It's fake relationship but done differently to anything else I've read. It's political in a way that rings true for so much that's going on in the world and it was lovely to see the characters I love fight for things I believe in!

Title: Who we are in the shadows Read by: Sandstripe Authour: Quicksilvermaid Length:~ 7h Rating: Explicit Summary: What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong? This fic feels a little like a healing bruise. By which I mean that it hurts, a little – but in a good way. Sandstripe does a brilliant job of making all the emotions come across and I'll definetly be listening to this many times.

[mumintroll]

hiii i once read a thing i now can't find or remember exactly anymore but that essentially described the author's dog begging for a sweet pastry with all it's might and being so devastated it couldn't have any because it didn't know what the author did - that even though delicious the pastry would only bring sickness. and the authour that that maybe life was shaking it's head at her just like she was at her dog because she's chasing things like opportunities or a love that are so sweet but ultimately no good at all. Maybe you don't need the sweetest loveliest boy because he's too saccharine to stomach. I'm sure someone whose characteristics are cut by just the right amount of bitterness to balance out your personality is waiting for you around the corner <3 Life is making space for that person to be by your side once you meet them by not filling it up with the overly sweet choice. I'm sure everything will fall into place! You are doing perfectly!

this is helpful & nice thank you <3

[canariie]

the boyfriend sweater

Rating: K+

Synopsis: Toushiro passed through the thin dress shirts and found the fall items, his eye skimming through the hoodies and pull over sweaters. Instinctively he wanted to choose the black and darker clothing but found himself second guessing the colour. Hinamori likes colourful things, so maybe I should pick brighter? He shook his head, grumbling at the amount of pressure he felt. She said she liked the other shirt because it reminded her of me—don’t think too hard about this.

…

Toushiro fails to understand the concept of the “boyfriend sweater”

Word Count: 1770 words

Setting: during the time skip, before the epilogue of Bleach (probably 3 years after the last chapter)

Authour’s Note: Hello hello! it’s been a while :) This short little sequel fic was inspired by several reviews from i just called to say that I finally got around to sitting down and finishing it up! I was so taken back by all the love that that fic received that I really wanted to write a little sequel for it! Also thank you to everyone who submitted requests! Between writing for Hitsuhina week, Celebrate Bleach event, and my fic requests I got a lot of writing to do this summer haha Please bear with me as I work on them but I will promise to respond to everyone :)

Enjoy!

—

“Matsumoto—where are the catalogues for the Living World clothes?”

Rangiku looked up at her captain with a raised eyebrow. “In the storage drawers—but Taicho, why do you want it now?” The 10th captain had never expressed interest in choosing his own clothes, and usually had left it up to her to pick, just giving her short remarks as feedback of what he liked or not.

“Well,” Toushiro paused, carefully trying to think of a sufficient explanation without further questions. “We may be sent to the World of the Living soon for survey missions—and I have outgrown my clothing.” He had easily shot up half a foot in height, so all of his previous articles had long grown short for him.

But the real reason why he wanted to look at the catalogue was because of his childhood friend.

Momo had been going to human world to spend time developing her kido training with the human girl, Orihime and the former kido general corps Haachi—leaving her extended with stays on the other side. During this time, they had been calling each other in the absence of physically seeing each other. It was something that Toushiro found himself looking forward to; even though they were in two different worlds, it felt like their relationship was being mended and transforming into something new.

During one of these calls, Momo had let it slip that she had been sleeping in his old shirt—which scrambled his mind in a way he hadn’t known possible—leaving Toushiro to promise her that he would give her something that would fit her better (since he was now around the same height as her).

And while Toushiro knew that they were becoming closer with each other, he didn’t want to assume anything that would jeopardize their current relationship—especially considering how they had strayed from each other for a while.  

Toushiro lifted to his eyes to see his lieutenant standing in front of his desk, a skeptical look in her blue eyes. “Here’s the catalogue. I have to leave for a lieutenant’s meeting but just place a note of which one you like and I’ll order it later.”

He took it from her, trying not to seem to eager. “Thank you, Matsumoto.”

When the door shut, he quickly opened up the paper book, sifting through the pages. It gave him greater sense of accomplishment that he could finally order from the older section (something that Matsumoto had great fun with earlier when she picked out clothes from the junior section and he had to immediately reprimand her to order less childish prints).

As he flipped through the catalogue, he couldn’t help his mind straying to thinking about the fifth lieutenant. It’ll probably be colder now since they’re approaching autumn. Toushiro passed through the thin dress shirts and found the fall items, his eye skimming through the hoodies and pull over sweaters. Instinctively he wanted to choose the black and darker clothing but found himself second guessing the colour. Hinamori likes colourful things, so maybe I should pick brighter? He shook his head, grumbling at the amount of pressure he felt. She said she liked the other shirt because it reminded her of me—don’t think too hard about this.

With that thought, he found a dark blue pullover sweater that he knew would fit him well and placed the book on Matsumoto’s desk.

 ---

Fortunately for Toushiro, Matsumoto ordered it quickly and came right on time before Momo had her next trip to the Living World. He was able to finish all his work just in time to hurry over to the departure site, with the bag in hand, right as the fifth lieutenant was about to step through after finishing debriefing with one of her division officers.

“Hinamori!” Toushiro called out.  

She turned around and he could feel his racing heart quicken as her warm brown eyes widened in surprise. “Hitsugaya-kun,” Momo she said softly. “What are you doing here?”

What exactly am I doing here? Toushiro eyed the division officer, who seemed to have gotten the message and turned around, removing himself from the proximity of the two childhood friends.

“I…wanted to say bye to you—before you left,” Toushiro explained lamely. The brown-haired girl blushed and she smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, you shouldn’t have gone to the trouble! I know how busy you are and it’s late.”

Toushiro cleared his throat. “…I also had something to give to you.”

At her wide-eyed expression, he thrusted the bag towards her. “You said you wanted something of mine to wear,” Toushiro explained, and he inwardly cursed at how weak and awkward he sounded.

He could only watch as she took it carefully, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she pulled out the pullover sweater.

“Wow! This is perfect!” Momo looked at him with a beaming smile. “Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun!”

He could feel his ears go red and he looked to the side. “It’s Hitsugaya-taicho,” he corrected and then cleared his throat. “But you’re welcome—now you can have a sweater that fits and hasn’t been worn before.”

“What?” Momo looked down at the article in her hand. “This is new…?”

Toushiro raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, why would I give you something used?”

It was Momo’s turn to be flustered, her cheeks going bright red as she stammered. “Ah-oh I don’t know—I thought you had worn it before,” she blushed furiously and Toushiro couldn’t help notice how her shoulders sagged and the despondent look that crossed her face. She quickly shook her head and smiled at him—a slightly forced one he could tell.

“Thank you so much Hitsugaya-taicho, I will wear it well! I’ll call you later during the week,” She called out before rushing away through the portal, leaving him standing there awkwardly.

What was that?

---

The next few days, Toushiro couldn’t stop thinking about their last interaction. As he was filling out paperwork, or training with Hyourinmaru or attending captain’s meetings—he simply could not understand what went wrong.

And knowing that he was never going to be able to focus on his work, he turned to the one person he knew would have the answer on anything to do with Momo: his lieutenant.

When came into the office, she was lying down on the couch reading through a manga she had obtained from Yadomaru-taicho. Before he could even say anything, she called out from behind her book. “Don’t worry Taicho, I’ve finished all the reports. I’m just on my break now.”

“That’s fine, Matsumoto,” he replied as he sat down. It was quiet for a moment as Matsumoto continued to read, flipping through the pages so that Toushiro couldn’t see her face.

“Matsumoto,” he spoke up. “I had a question about the sweater you ordered me: was there anything wrong with it?”

“Hmm, not that I’m aware of. It looked fine to me—and that brand is a good one,” she answered from behind the book as she turned the page.

“When I gave Hinamori the sweater, she looked…sad,” Toushiro admitted.

The older woman perked up, putting down the book and sitting herself up to look at her captain with a suspicious look in her eyes. “Wait—Taicho, why did you give your new sweater to her?”

“Well, last time we spoke on the phone while she was in the World of Living, she ended up wearing one of my old shirts from years ago. I told her instead of wearing that, I could give her something that fits…” Toushiro slowed down as he saw his lieutenant’s blue eyes widening. “So I don’t know what the issue was.”

She stared at him with a dumfounded expression before crying out. “Because Hinamori wanted a boyfriend sweater! Something of yours!”

“I bought her a new sweater!” Toushiro defended hastily. “I hadn’t even worn it yet!”

“And that’s exactly the problem!” Rangiku exclaimed, standing up now with the book completely forgotten. “The whole point of having a boyfriend sweater is to wear a sweater with his scent on it! It’ll be slightly worn, washed a couple of times—but it has to remind her of you!”

Toushiro was dumbstruck as his lieutenant continued her tirade.

“Aw my poor sweet Hina-chan, I am so sorry you have my love-incompetent captain as your friend,”

“Hey,” he warned.

Matsumoto turned on him with a determined look in her eyes with placed hands on her hips. “Taicho, you have to immediately go get a sweater. Wear it down, even sweat in it, and wash it! Do you have a preferred fabric softener that you use?”

He arched his eyebrow. “I am not giving her sweaty clothing.”

Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Obviously not! But it still must remind her of you!”

“Matsumoto,” he sighed exasperatedly. “I am not her boyfriend. Hinamori did not want a ‘boyfriend’ sweater, as you put it.”

She groaned dramatically, collapsing on the couch and closing her eyes in frustration. “Taicho, there are a few things I will swear my life on—the best brand of sake, the hidden gem store to buy kimonos, the best time to eat persimmons. This is another one of them.” She pushed her hair back, and held her hands in front of her, as if explaining a critical lesson. “No, you are not her boyfriend—which is another future discussion we will have,” Toushiro raised his eyebrow but she continued on. “However, you are someone that is special to her and she wanted a piece of clothing that reminded her of you—especially while she is away from you!

“When have I ever strayed you captain? Did I not tell you to wear a suit and give her ice roses for White Day,” she said with a knowing tone. Toushiro had to giver her that—it was all her idea and the look of gratitude on Momo’s face was one he could never forget.

“The look of a girl in love in the sweater of her partner—and especially if it’s larger than her—is something every girl wants!” Rangiku explained with finality.

Toushiro’s mind reeled, thinking of Momo in his sweater that would be too big on her petite frame, the end of it coming mid-thigh. Her twirling around and smiling brightly at him. He had to shake the thoughts off.

“So, I need to give her…,” Toushiro iterated, “used clothing…because it reminds her of me?” Rangiku nodded emphatically.

“But why would women want to take men’s clothes when it doesn’t fit them?”

Rangiku sighed in resignation. “We’ve got a lot to teach you, Taicho...”

—

Authour’s Note: Toushiro seems like the kind of guy that wouldn’t fully understand the concept of a boyfriend sweater, right? I guess some human world concepts are just too confusing to completely compute haha

Hope you enjoyed :) Please look forward to more fics this summer! I will do my best :)