Make sure not to overload every character with traits, giving each main character one specific trait is going to go a lot further by making it memorable
speaking fast, stumbling over their words, having to backtrack
rolling R's
sharp pronunciations (t instead of d, z instead of s, k instead of g...)
rounded pronounciaions (d instead of t, ...)
quiet / loud speaker
humming frequently in between words or sentences
very well articulated
stuttering
often pausing to thin before speaking
croaky voice
regional accents
slow / fast speaker
using certain words a lot
not lowering voice at the end of sentences, leaving them sounding a little like a question or an open ended statement
5 Tiny Writing Tips That Arenât Talked About Enough (but work for me)
These are some lowkey underrated tips Iâve seen floating around writing communities â the kind that donât get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.
1. Put âhe/she/theyâ at the start of the sentence less often.
Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of
âShe walked to the window,â
try
âThe window creaked open under her touch.â
Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.
2. Donât describe everything â describe what matters.
Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2â3 objects that say something.
âA half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the tableâ
sets a way stronger tone than
âThere was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.â
3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.
Instead of:
"I'm fine," she said.
Try:
"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.
It helps shows emotion, and movement.
4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.
No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird â future you will thank you for at least something to edit.
5. When stuck, ask: âWhatâs the most fun thing that could happen next?â
Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesnât have to stay â but chasing excitement can blast through writerâs block and give you ideas you actually want to write.
Whatâs a tip that unexpectedly helped with your writing? Let me know!! đ
i love when people say "iâd read your book!" like girl me too unfortunately i havenât written it yet because i am trapped in a cycle of procrastination and the feeling of impending doom
I understand the want for Jeremy to get a red card in TBC but please consider, instead, the funniest possible way he could get red carded for the first time is at the olympics:
Imagine if you will, husbands Jeremy and Jean at their first olympics together, where Jean has decided to play for the French olympic team (in order to go to the olympics without having to train again at Evermore).
The press all up in a storm about how The Moreaus have never played against one another before! How even in their college days on separate teams, they never met on the court! How will they do it? Will either hold back? Will they even be played at the same time?! The buzz gets louder as the games progress and the final match for the silver & gold medals is slated to be between France & the USA
Of course, Jeremy and Jean would be thrilled at the opportunity to play one another. It isn't like they haven't done so in practices before, and to compete with one another in the olympics? What a thrill! They stay within the rules, but there is NO holding back. They are each other's mark, the only ones capable of matching each other step for step, and the game is even more crazy intense when either of them gets the ball.
And then, with precious little time left, Jean snatches the ball right from Jeremy's raquet and slings it to France's striker, who scores, bringing the game to a tie.
Jeremy is stunned, impressed, elated, devastated, offended, just taken aback by all of the feelings at once at such a masterfully done play and he is left gaping at Jean, who tells him with the most self-satisfied grin to "have a winning day, mon cĹur!"
So Jeremy does the one and only thing that feels reasonable in response to such cheeky bait, something they've playfully done a dozen times in practices and around the gym after getting togetherâ
He smacks his husband HARD on the ass, in the middle of the olympic court, and that shit rings out like a gunshot.
A ref immediately red cards Jeremy for violent conductâ slapping another player when not challenging for the ballâ which has Jean barking out a laugh before the two of them realize what this actually means.
It gives France a penalty shot. A chance to break the tie at the tail end of the game.
Now, Andrew is probably in the goal for the USA team, and considering that this is the most entertaining thing that's happened through all of the olympics, he locks down the goal and just barely blocks the shot. Jeremy owes Andrew his life for that one, honestly.
The game quickly goes to a tiebreaker that has the USA just scraping by as the victors, but everyone is VERY AWARE that if France had made that penalty shot, there wouldn't have been a tie to break, and France would have won.
No one will ever let Jeremy Moreau forget the 1 and only red card in his exy career, which nearly cost the USA a gold medal, and it was for smacking Jean's ass on the olympic court.
Bonus silly aftermath:
⢠Kevin is STEAMING mad about this for years to come. Jeremy goes several days genuinely believing that their friendship is over because of this (It's not, but the "scathing diva" needs time to cool down about almost losing olympic gold over such a thing)
⢠Neil has a t-shirt custom made with a still-frame of the spank and the text THE CLAP HEARD 'ROUND THE WORLD and wears it for seemingly every single public appearance he makes for the next few months.
⢠At the next olympics, Andrew offers to lock down the goal if Jeremy can one-up last time's scandal and make things interesting. Jeremy cannot tell if this is a joke, and plays on his best behavior, and ignores the pointed eye contact Andrew makes with him when a ball slips past surely on accident?! and lights up the goal.
⢠The clip of Jeremy smacking Jean's ass and immediately getting red carded will haunt Jeremy on jumbotron replays for the rest of his career. Fans will have him sign pictures of it. The incident is brought up every single olympic season, without fail, even after he retires.
!!! this list mostly includes post-tsc (especially post-tgr) fics !!!
note: i am SURE i forgot to mention lots of amazing fics. please share your own favorites in the comments or/and reblogs!!!!
one-shots
(self-promo...sorry) warm enough to burn (4k): jean and jeremy get stuck in a hotel room with only one bed
wash out the salt (28k): 5 nights + 1 morning. i cannot recommend this enough.
california burns cardinal red on the skyline (17k): jean and jeremy date long distance but break up before jean transfers to usc
you and your hammer (6.4k): jean and jeremy drive to the beach
something to worry about (5.2k): jeremy gets drugged at a party. jean goes to get him.
the sofa sinks, underneath our doubled weight (3.1k): the sweetest jerejean first kiss
victory lap (7.5k): after winning the championships, they confess feelings and do much more
through the highs and lows, i'll hold you close (4.9k): jeremy has a breakdown
anything, everything (11k): jean and jeremy attempt to keep their relationship private
there will still be you and me (11k): jean vs faser confrontation and much more
forty-and-five (6.9k): idk how to summarize this. it's just so beautiful. experience it yourself.
all the bright places (14k): popstar jeremy x bodyguard jean
falling toward you (15k): jean and jeremy are each other's emergency contacts
thoroughfare (30k): pre-relationship jerejean on a road-trip
until the sun burns out (22k): jeremy navigates the reality of his future
blind before i met you. (4k): jean gets enough and tells jeremy his feelings
moth to a flame (3.5k): pre-relationship jerejean in the club. jeremy is very hot and jean is very jealous
pearl soaked terry cloth (5.3k): jeremy helps jean shower
this could be the end of everything (3.4k): jerejean slow dancing
oprah's calling (again) (4.3k): jean gets jealous of kevin constantly calling & texting jeremy. they both misunderstand.
primal and naked (17k): pre-relationship jerejean at the olympics
giving anything up but on you (7.1k): jean really misses jeremy and he gets very clingy when he gets a little drunk
say my name and everything just stops (2.9k): jerejean first kiss after jean leans on jeremy on the bed before the banquet
concussion protocol (5.4k): jean gets a concussion
you brought back my spark (7.7k): jean trusts jeremy with his hair and jeremy trusts jean with his truths (occurs during tgr banquet chapters)
photographs (1.8k): the first jean sees jeremy's pictures on magazines
all that you are is all that i'll ever need (3.3k): jean proposes to jeremy
a backlinerâs job (5.4k): theyâre not together but that doesnât mean jean will let any man get close to jeremy
multi-chaptered
adieu mon homme (188k): thee prince jeremy x knight jean fic
(i long to be) close to you (58k): pride & prejudice au
nothing at all (35k): jean tries to explore his sexuality. jeremy tries to help.
good luck, jeremy knox (60k): college au where jeremy has internalized homophobia
of barbells and stretches (27k): gym trainer jean x pilates instructor jeremy. very horny and very hot
love is stored in the cat (28k): fuckbuddies jerejean falling in love
i know the end (36k + continuing): jeremy crashes his car
one more time, with feeling (17k + continuing): jeremy gets a concussion and loses over a decade of memory. he wakes up as his freshman self and forgets jean, his husband.
of shame, jealousy and desire (6.6k) & set fire to my soul (13k): a duology that starts with jeremy walking on jean having sex with a girl
the innocence of doves (46k): priest jean x non-religious jeremy who's looking for a friend
catch this! (50k): jerejean baseball au (you don't have to know anything about baseball for this. i didn't.)
fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves (28k): jeremy goes through a career-ending injury and spirals. they are married.
you talk like a man and taste like the sun (6.7k): 5 times jeremy touched jean + 1 time jean touched jeremy
heart and soul (81k): tattoo artist jean x music teacher jeremy who's a single dad
nsfw/pwp (?? idk how to categorize im sorry. fics that are mostly smut basically)
moreau #29 (3.2k): jean wants to fuck jeremy wearing his jersey
faire l'amour (6.8k): jerejean first time
i can do a lot (with 15 minutes) (2.1k): jean makes jeremy forget his own name
(i need a) big boy (3.5k): jeremy has a strength kink and jean is very strong
my favorite view is me covered in you (9.3k): jerejean sex tape
puppy (5.9k): alpha jean x alpha jeremy
solo (1.6k): jean fantasizes about jeremy
up the ante (7.3k): jean tests jeremy's french skills in a very sexy way
Birth order influences the way children act and how their parents react to them. If you're writing a character that has a few siblings, one of the most important things to note is that the same childhood â same experience.
Common Roles & Archetypes
Golden child: All families with multiple kids have the golden child. might be the youngest, might be the smartest. This is the favoured one; the one that's babied and gets showered with all the attention. If there's ever any fighting or arguing between siblings, this is the one the parents care about more and will believe them over the others.
The responsible one/caretaker: Typically the oldest one, especially in bigger families. This is the one that had to take care of their siblings as a parent would, and often causes resentment. This is the 'parentified' sibling. The sibling that isn't allowed to hang out with friends or make plans because they need to babysit their little brother/sister. Their childhood was cut short.
The invisible one: This always ends up being the middle child. The forgotten one. They rarely cause problems, or are part of the problems, but they are the one that don't receive support or attention.
The black sheep: This one is the rebel, the scapegoat, the one that's always in trouble. This one could be the middle or the youngest, but is rarely the oldest. They're blamed for arguments and they're the first one to get kicked out. Constantly grounded and constantly fighting to get attention.
The roles stick with them through life, even into adulthood. Conflict styles vary from passive aggression, to loud, physical fights or even just screaming at each other through the door.
Communication
Arguing/fights: Siblings fight. It's part of their key communication structure, especially in their younger ages. Siblings fight over everything, don't be afraid to throw in the most ridiculous points of conflict. Tension over attention (or lack thereof) from others: teachers, parents, boys/girls at school or even other siblings.
Conflict style: Stick to a conflict style. Are they loud? Do they scream and throw things? Silent resentment? Do they just get over it eventually?
Shared History: Growing up together means nicknames, inside jokes, sarcastic quips and specific gestures that mean things only to them. This also means they know exactly what triggers each other, things that annoy them, fears, ambitions. They know where to strike when they know everything about each other.
But it's not always about fighting
Emotional awareness: They know the signs when one is upset, or if something is wrong.
Loyalty: Siblings may feel protective over each other. This can be anything from waiting at the school gate to walk the youngest home, or running a form of 'reconnaissance' on a new boyfriend/girlfriend.
Distance: Separation can change how they interact, and shift dynamics. But old patterns come back, even if they've matured slightly.
Underused Microexpressions for Characters Hiding Something
Everyone writes about characters "not meeting Character's gaze." Letâs retire it for a minute.
⢠A smile that doesnât reach the eyes
⢠Holding eye contact a beat too long
⢠Laughing half a second too late
⢠Over-correcting posture when addressed
⢠Clearing their throat before answering
⢠Adjusting sleeves, cuffs, jewelry repeatedly
⢠A visible swallow before speaking
⢠Exhaling through the nose instead of responding
⢠Looking at the exit mid-conversation
⢠Nodding too quickly
âThey felt sick.â â Vague.
âThey threw up.â â Sometimes, but not always.
Illness isnât a switch you flip. Fever and nausea creep, spike, ebb, lie to you, then come back worse. They live in the body first, and thatâs where your writing should live too.
Below, I've written a lil' cheat sheet for you. Reblog so you can come back later.
THE BODY LANGUAGE OF FEVER & NAUSEA
Skin & Temperature
Skin alternates between clammy and burning
Deep internal warmth
Sudden chills while sweating
Clothes feel wrong, either too heavy, too tight, too warm, not warm enough, etc.
Goosebumps even in a warm room
Face flushed, ears hot, neck damp
Head & Senses
Head feels pressurized or stuffed with cotton
Eyes ache when moving
Nose stuffed (on either one side, or both)
Ears ringing or deaf on one side
Lights are too bright/sharp
Sounds blur together
Food smells gross
Room feels tilted or surreal
Focus slips mid-thought
Food/water has an aftertaste
Stomach & Core
Nausea that comes in waves
Swallowing feels deliberate, effortful
Dry swallowing, dry throatâdry everything
Saliva thickens or pools suddenly
Abdomen tightens
Hunger exists but is nauseating at the same time
Body curls inward without thinking
Mouth & Throat
Tongue feels coated
Taste turns metallic, bitter, or flat
Lips dry; licking them doesnât help
Gag reflex hair-trigger sensitive
Breathing through the mouth makes it worse
Movement & Posture
Barely any movement
Sitting becomes slouching, then curling
Standing too fast triggers instant nausea/dizziness
Hands brace on thighs, counters, walls
Feet shuffle; balance checked constantly
Body seeks cold surfaces or firm pressure
Voice & Speech
Voice dulls or drops in volume (due to plugged nose and raspy throat)
Words come slower
Sentences trail off unfinished
Irritation spikes easily (even if people are being nice)
Delayed responses
Apologies come out automatically (âSorry. Sorry.â)
NOT ALL âSICKâ FEELS THE SAME
Fever (infection-based):
Comes with chills + heat
Mental fog, slowed reaction time
Body aches feel deep, joint-based
Thirst increases, appetite drops
Sleep is restless, sweaty, unrefreshing
Colds / Flu:
More head pressure, sinus heaviness
Heavy cough, sore throat
Heavy fatigue
Fever may be mild or absent (especially colds)
Chronic Illness Flares:
Pain is familiar but still intense
Less panic, more resigned
Symptoms stack (fatigue + nausea + pain)
Character may ration movement and speech
Recovery expectations are lower
Menstrual Cramps:
Pain pulses rhythmically
Heat helps
Nausea tied to motion and smell
Sensitive emotions (more prone to snapping, saying things they regret)
Body feels heavy
Stress-Induced Nausea:
No fever, no chills
Jaw tension, shallow breathing
Nausea spikes during stillness
Relief when distracted or moving
These differences matter. They change how a character reacts, not just how they feel.
So yeah, hope that helps. You don't need vomiting on the page every time. Sometimes being sick is feeling off-key, or sometimes it's quiet recovery. It varies. The symptoms are one part of your story, the rest is up to characterization and plot. Why is illness relevant to your story? Why is this character sick, and how is it different from another character? You can have a lot of fun with this.
Written by a human with a headache and too much experience lying very still, hoping it passes. If you liked this post, buy me a coffee... or cough medicine. đ
For @drarrymicrofic prompt: âInhaleâ wc 540 / (June 2025 prompt)
Golden threads of magic hovered over Harryâs body, pulsing weakly in time with his heartâfaint and faltering. Draco sat rigid in the chair beside the bed, watching the rise and fall of Harryâs chest because looking away might be the end.
Five days.
Five days since the Auror raid went wrong. Five days of burnt St. Mungoâs coffee and half-sleep stolen in a lumpy armchair. Hermione had tried to send him home three times. She stopped after he snapped at her to back off, something sharp and ugly breaking loose from his chest.
Ron had stayed. Quiet, hollow-eyed, guilt chewed raw into his fingers. It had been Ron in the firing line of the curseâbut Harry Potter, bloody heroic idiot that he was, had stepped in front of it without thinking. Always without thinking. Always choosing everyone else first.
Inhale.
Six years since the war.
Five since Pansy and Neville started dating.
Four since they got engaged.
Three since they married.
Two since their first child.
One since Harry and Draco finally stopped circling each other at gatherings like skittish animals and spoke. Properly.
Nine months since they fell into bed together.
Six since they both suggested that they should stop.
Three since they avoided that conversation altogether.
Inhale.
With every passing day, Draco felt his heart swell around Harry until it ached, until it felt too large for his chest. Harryâs laugh. His smile. The way he made tea in the mornings and lingered in the evenings when he didnât quite want to leave.
Draco considered saying something before. But every time, the gut-wrenching thought that it was all one-sided stopped him cold.
Nowâlooking at Harry pale against white sheets, bandages tight around his chest, lips cracked, his hand limp in DracoâsâDraco wasnât sure it mattered anymore. Some truths were worth knowing even if they destroyed you. Some lives just werenât worth living without certain people in them.
Inhale.
Draco brushed his thumb over the back of Harryâs hand, slow and reverent, no longer caring who saw. Whenever a visiting Weasley eyed him suspiciously, Hermione stepped in, shielding Draco without comment. He would thank her later, if there was a later.
Harry had the most beautiful hands.
Not like Dracoâsâlong, sharp, knobblyâbut warm, soft, capable of so much gentleness. They had held him in the dark, drawn pleasure from his body, and onceâon a night Draco hadnât thought he would surviveâwiped his tears away when he had heard that Gregory Goyle had finally succumbed to the after-effects of Fiendfyre inhalation.
Draco wanted to hold those hands forever.
Inhale.
Sitting there, with magic trembling overhead, he knew what he would do if Harry woke. What he had to do. He had prayed to gods he didnât believe in, to a universe that had never been kindâthat he would be given the chance.
He didnât deserve it. He didnât deserve many things.
But if the universe granted him this one mercy, he would spend the rest of his life earning it.
Please, he thought. Please wake up, Harry.
He tightened his grip. Willing. Waiting.
Then... a twitch. Gentle. Fragile.
Dracoâs breath hitched as he looked up, heart lurching violently into motion.
@drarrymicrofic Wheel of Drarry gift exchange for @nsasquith (300 words) Prompt: home
Itâs all a blur at St. Mungoâs. Healers, tests, diagnostics. Concerned expressions. Pansyâs fingers squeezing his shoulder. Draco feels out of his own body, a spectator to the insanity of the prognosis.
âA bond,â the Healer says. âIt should fade in time. Cursebreakers took a look at the artefact.â
âHow long?â Itâs the first thing Potter has said the whole afternoon. He has his arms wrapped around his midsection, like he has to physically hold himself back. Draco canât look at him, even as every single one of his muscles screams in protest.
No oneâs sure how long they may have to endure this. Could be hours, could be days. Months, maybe even years, if theyâre that unlucky. Draco never was one for much luck, so he can already guess which way it might lean.
Theyâre given a clean bill of health, just with the added addendum of a fucking bond, and pushed towards the Floo, walking like theyâre under an Imperius.
The living room they stumble in to is shadowed and dank. Potter stands rigidly, hands clenching by his sides.
âSo,â he says, teeth gritted. âWelcome home, I guess.â
Potter storms out of the room despite the pain etched on his face.
Beads of sweat form on Dracoâs temple. It hurts. Everything hurts. If he just stands very still maybe by some miracle the want coursing through his veins will dissipate. Everything will go back to normal.
Not even two minutes later and Potterâs back, cursing as he flies through the door and collides bodily with Draco. His fingers dig into Dracoâs back through thin cotton, his mouth is hot at Dracoâs throat.
Dracoâs breath leaves him in a ragged exhale. He closes his eyes, every part of him relaxing into Potterâs firm hold. This. This.
After staring at his bedroom ceiling in the dark for hours, Draco finally gives up when the fine, monotonous hands of his grandfather's heirloom watch, resting on the bedside table, tick past 4:30 a.m.
He sits up, shoving a hand into his hair, and sighs, breathing out hard through his nose.
It's another fifteen minutes before he pushes himself to standing, too restless to stay in this roomâthis godforsaken old manorâanother second. Throwing a worn old travelling cloak on over his night clothes, he shoves his feet into his riding boots and takes the stairs two at a time, casting a hasty muffliato so his mother isn't disturbed.
The air pricks his skin, goosebumps erupting down his limbs, but the cold is welcome; it helps mute his fatigue, to sharpen his mind. He steps out off the gravel drive, and starts to walk across the open field, stride lengthening as he tries to outpace his thoughts.
But he can't stop ruminating. What Andromeda had said yesterdayâhe can't help thinking about what it might mean, and tries, viciously, to crush the delicate, tenacious bud threatening to unfurl in his chest.
The world is soft and still around him. Birdsong echoes out across the hillside. In the distance, a cow bellows. Underfoot, dew gathers in tiny cobwebs in the grass, and ahead, the sky pinkens to the east.
It's as he's crossing the small arched bridge, over the tumbling little creek near the edge of the woodlands, when Draco sees him.
Striding through the early morning brume, drawing closer, is a man with a familiar, messy head of dark hair, almost dream-like in the pale apricot of pre-dawn.
Draco stares, holding his breath as he waits by the bridge, rooted to the spot.
Finally, Harry stops in front of him, close enough to touch. Draco's fingers twitch at his sides.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Nor I." The truth falls out of Draco, unstoppable. "My auntâŚ"
Harry's green eyes are fixed on Draco. His shirt is half-unbuttoned, half-tucked, dark stubble rough along his jaw. He looks how Draco feels. "What did she tell you?"
"She⌠she said something that hasâthat has taught me to hope, as I have scarcely allowed myself before," Draco murmurs. He feels almost delirious with sleeplessness, with dread and desperation in equal measure. "But I want to hear it from you."
"I broke off my engagement. With Ginny."
"You did." Draco's lips are numb.
"I did." Harry sighs. "She actuallyâwell. She was kind of relieved, actually. Turns out I wasn't the only one withâwith doubts. I think she'd wanted to break up for a while, but she thought I wouldn't⌠handle it well."
"And⌠how are you handling it?" Draco is frozen in place, overwhelmed.
"Draco⌠surely you must know." Harry steps closer, until Draco can feel the warmth of his breath. His fingers, warm and firm, tangle with Draco's. Harry ducks his head to meet Draco's gaze where it's fallen, and smiles. "Your hands are cold."
Draco grips his fingers tightly. He closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against Harry's.
"Stay."
"I will."
Brume đž Day 25 of @peachydreamxx and @uncannyceruleanâs prompts. Full collection on ao3.
âYou stole my first kiss,â Harry announced after he found Draco in the hospital wing. What he didnât say was that he hadnât tried to pull away. What he didnât say was that he had only gone looking now because heâd been left speechless before.
Draco puffed up his chest. âWell, come take it back.â What he couldâve said was that it was the love potionâs fault and not his. What he couldâve said was that he would have never kissed Harry without it.Â
Harry pulled him by the collar and took the kiss right back.Â
â˝ Memory becomes absolute garbage. Like âwhy am I in the kitchen?â garbage. âWhat was I saying?â garbage. Their brain is running on buffering screens and regret.
â˝ Fine motor skills? Ha. Theyâre dropping everything. Pens. Phones. Entire moral compass. Theyâre basically a malfunctioning claw machine.
⽠Hallucinations creep in. That jacket on the chair? Suddenly a person. That noise? Definitely doom. Everything becomes mildly haunted.
⽠Time gets weird. Five minutes feel like a year. A full hour disappears and they swear they blinked wrong.
⽠Irritation skyrockets. They get mad at chairs. At air. At gravity. At the audacity of other humans continuing to exist.
⽠Their voice sounds weird. Slow, scratchy, like they swallowed sand.
â˝ They walk like a drunk baby giraffe. Walls suddenly jump closer. Floors rise unexpectedly. Coordination said: âIâm out.â
â˝ Zoning out becomes a hobby. They stare at random objects like theyâre trying to understand quantum mechanics.
⽠Vision blurs in and out. Like someone smeared Vaseline over their eyeballs out of spite.
â˝ Their body just hurts. Not a dramatic pain, just the âwhy does my skeleton feel like itâs buzzing?â pain.
â˝ Food cravings go feral. Theyâd fight someone for a stale cookie.
â˝ Terrible choices. They will absolutely say âIâm fineâ while making decisions that end in disaster.
⽠Random emotional implosions. Crying because their sock feels wrong? Yes.
⽠Cold hands. Cold feet. Cold heart. (Okay maybe not the last one, but it feels like it.)
Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.
Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!
