#Literary scarf

[universalzone]

[bonemeal12]

God I love when people draw Kanna with Sou's scarf in chapter 3. Something something, breaking cycles, making a symbol of love and hope out of a representation of loss and distrust and manipulation. I feel like it makes all of her kinda of mini rebellions against Midori soooooo good. Taking the shackles Sou placed round Shin's neck and saying "This is love now, actually. This is hope and the courage to move forward." What was a weight on his shoulders became armor on hers.

[bauliya]

good!

i think all quiet on the western front and the lord of the rings are in direct conversation with each other, as in theyre the retelling of the same war with one saying here's what happened, we all died, and it did not matter at all and another going hush little boy, of course we won, of course your friends came back

[midnightorchids]

Jason x south asian!reader headcanons (I wrote this with a Pakistani fem!reader in mind. However, I did try to keep it neutral)

- He feeds you samosas and ties your hair for you, while your henna is drying. He has the stupidest grin plastered on his face while doing so, it makes his heart feel full

- He studies your native language to try and communicate with you and your family better. He gets really shy when he uses the wrong grammar or pronounces a word wrong

- Jason has a very special place in his heart for Urdu because it is one of the South Asian languages of poetry (I speak this one lol)

- He definitely learned Urdu, Farsi and Arabic for literary and poetic reasons, now you have to hear him recite different sonnets in multiple languages every day (so cute)

- He studied Islamic history and Hindu scriptures. It piqued his interest and if any of these religions apply to you, then it helps him understand you better

- You always make him wear kohl or kajal in his eyes and he never says no

- You sit on his lap and gently add the kajal in his waterline and he can’t help but smirk in excitement. He likes being close to you

- Jason likes to wear black kurtas. Need I say more? They hug his arms so deliciously, he looks so pretty in them

- Your dupatta (scarf) got caught on his watch one time and he couldn’t stop smiling

- He kisses your hand and calls you meri dunya (my world) and meri jaan (my life)

- He’s disgustingly cringe, he watched an old Shahrukh Khan movie with you once and did THE pose (im crying)

- Orange theory but with pomegranates

- Ultimate brown dad behaviour, let me explain, you tell him you like something and the next day there’s a million packets of it

- He’s a Noor Jehan listener and Galib quoter (me)

- Whenever you wear a lengha or any flowy outfit, he’ll spin you around before pulling you in for a kiss

[lyon-77]

Erlang Shen—A Playful Free Spirit Pt. 1

Many might already know that Erlang (二郎) means the second son. Historically, Erlang Shen has also been referred to as Langjun Shen. The term, Langjun (郎君), initially served as a title for young aristocrats beginning their careers in the bureaucratic system. Over time, it became more generalized, used to respectfully address any young lord and affectionately by young women when referring to their husbands or lovers.

This both reflected and shaped Erlang's image in folk tradition. Since "Lang (jun)" carries a strongly positive connotation and evokes admiration, Erlang is often depicted as a handsome young man with a majestic presence. Wu Cheng'en, the author of JTTW, wrote a poem titled Tribute to the Erlang Searching the Mountains (for Yaoguai) Painting (《二郎搜山图歌》), which is believed to have inspired his later novel, where he introduced Erlang as:

The young and elegant Lord of Qingyuan*, Leads his troops, raising the mystic wind. 少年都美清源公， 指挥部从扬灵风。 *Qingyuan (清源) is Erlang's main title in Daoism. Both characters are water-related and implies clarity/purity.

As a protector god, Erlang is seen as caring, generous, and dependable. However, as a young lord, he is also thought to be carefree and playful. The latter likely explains why he became the patron god of various artistic and leisure activities. In Black Myth: Wukong, Wukong remarks in the intro that, besides Bajie, Erlang is the best at talking nonsense and making him laugh (the literal translation of the Chinese line for the English dub "All these years, except for that pig, you're the one who talked the tallest tale. Good, I'm entertained"). Who knows—maybe Wukong was telling the truth here under the disguise of a jab.

Erlang's carefree and playful nature is a perpetual theme in Chinese literary tradition. In a 1207 C.E. inscription dedicated to him (《平定县昭惠灵显王感应碑记》), Erlang is described as:

Naturally fond of roaming free, with transformations that follow no fixed pattern. 性好游逸，变化无方。

Around the same period, a tribute poem for Erlang (《灌口二郎歌》) described him as:

A fine young man in yellow robes and a silk hat, Fierce like a starving tiger cornered in mountains and valleys. Not interested in staying close to the political center, He roams the enchanting mountains of the southwest border. 黄衫纱帽佳少年，炯然饿虎穷山渊。 不居秦鹿祖龙畔，却走碧鸡金马边。 ... At times, he shoots slings beyond the evening clouds, Or plays Cuju [ball game] in the spring breeze. Other times, he dons a red scarf, And searches for immortals (hidden) in the medicine market. In character he certainly resembles Li Bai*, In pursuit of the Dao he is committed as Ge Zhichuan. 有时挟弹暮云表，有时蹴踘春风前。 有时却自着绛帕，走入药市寻神仙。 为人定似李太白，学道定似葛稚川。 ... *Li Bai is a renowned Chinese poet famous for his free-spirited nature, poetic genius, and love of travel and alcohol.

Perhaps because Erlang's character has inspired countless artists and his stories have long been told through folk drama, Tang Xianzu, one of the most prominent Chinese playwrights of the 16th—17th centuries, referred to Erlang as the patron god of drama/opera, and said:

[He] is kind, and [he] attains the Daoist way through playful spontaneity. 为人美好，以游戏而得道。

This characterization of Erlang Shen is seen in JTTW as well. Wukong's second encounter with him takes place when the group is struggling against the Yaoguais of the Lake Bibo. Erlang somehow is nearby on a hunting trip with his Mei Mount brothers. A bit embarrassed by their first encounter, Wukong has Bajie ask for Erlang's assistance. Erlang is only delighted to see Wukong again and is more than happy to help. He invites the group to rest at his place first before the rematch the next day, even thoughtfully providing food and drinks that comply with Buddhist dietary restrictions. Then as Wu Cheng'en puts it:

The brothers gathered under the starlight and moon, with the sky as their canopy and the earth as their mat, raising their cups and reminiscing about the past. Just as loneliness makes the long night feel endless, the joys of reunion make the night feel too short. Before they realized it, the dawn light had already appeared in the east. 众兄弟在星月光前，幕天席地，举杯叙旧。 正是寂寞更长，欢娱夜短，早不觉东方发白。

In the next post, I’ll touch on some lore that highlights Erlang's playful teasing and sharp strategic mind. He's a really fun figure to explore, so stay tuned for more entertaining tales!

[chinesehanfu]

[Hanfu · 漢服]Chinese Song Dynasty (960–1279 AD)Traditional Clothing Hanfu Reference to Song Dynasty Murals

【Historical Reference Artifacts】:

Woman in the murals of the Song Dynasty tomb in Tangzhuang, Dengfeng, Henan,China.

【Histoty Note】Song Dynasty (960–1279 AD)·Woman Formal Garment

The large-sleeved shirts and skirts of the Northern Song Dynasty were based on the long blouses and skirts of the late Tang and Five Dynasties, and became more refined and gradually became more ritualized. At the same time, the trend of women wearing crowns became more and more popular, and a variety of crown styles and matching hairstyles were developed.

The restoration of this outfit refers to the image of a woman in the murals of the Song Dynasty tomb in Tangzhuang, Dengfeng, Henan: her head is combed in a bun, with clouds shape hair around her temples, and a crown, which is fixed with flower hairpins on the front and back, and pearl hairpins on the left and right; Wearing a sleeved blouse, a long skirt, and a silk scarf was the attire of the common people and women attending formal occasions at that time.

At that time, married women often wore crowns, long-sleeved shirts and skirts, and shoulder-wrapped scarf when attending formal occasions or when common women got married. It gradually developed into a classic paradigm, which had an impact on popular fashion and the system of public service. The "golden crown and xiapi金冠霞帔" that often appeared in literary works of the Song and Yuan Dynasties was developed from this classic ceremonial attire.

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📸Recreation Work:@裝束复原

🔗Weibo ：https://weibo.com/1656910125/NdlVDn8JP

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[newtonsheffield]

Awww I love author Anthony! When does Kate find out he carries that photo around? Can we get a snippet of that night it was taken?

Let’s see Kate’s point of view

She’s not even really sure how she ended up here. They’d been in the pub, surrounded by their friends with empty glasses strewn on the table around them and Anthony had scoffed.

“Oh, of course you think Frankenstein is trash. Of course you do!”

Kate raised her eyebrows while the rest of the table groaned.

“No! No, we’re having a nice night! Please don’t start arguing.”

Kate smiled and leaned across the table at Anthony, his stupid handsome face making something flutter in her chest. “Convince me, Bridgerton. Convince me that Victor Frankenstein isn’t a complete dickhead who got in over his head.”

“If you don’t understand the metaphor for the fact that we are eventually all brought down by our own hubris, then I can’t explain it to you, Sharma. You’re hopeless.”

“Sounds like you’re scared to convince me. Almost like you… know you can’t.”

His laughter was so beautiful. She hated how nice that sound was. Warm and happy. He ran his hair through his already messy hair. “Katie Kat I could convince you to do so many things.”

God, she wanted him to. She’d thought they’d never be friends the first time they met, and she definitely didn’t think she’d be where she is now, with her heart fluttering in her chest every time she saw him. And she didn’t think when he looked at her through his lashes, a lit cigarette in his hand, the smoke curling between him that she’d say yes so easily.

“I thought you were giving up smoking.”

Anthony sighed, looking wistfully at it, “I know, I know. You hate smokers. I just miss the smell when I’m a few pints deep. Makes me feel like a tortured artist.” He stamped it out on the side of the bin, tossing the cigarette in the ashtray unsmoked. “Are you heading somewhere?”

Kate raised her eyebrows, “Just… back to my dorm.”

Anthony nodded, stepping closer and putting his hands in his pockets, the scarf his mum had made him for Christmas wrapped around his neck. “Are you actually up for a friendly literary debate back at mine?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

Their breath had frosting in the air between them as they made their way back to his flat, laughing and giggling about one thing or another. And here they were now.

Kate had pulled off her boots and their coats were abandoned on the floor by the kitchen, empty bottles between them as they sat on the rug in front of the fire, the only light in the room. Anthony’s wire rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he shook his head.

“You are ridiculous!”

“I’m not ridiculous! Angus, Thongs, and full frontal Snogging is a fucking great book for its demographic! I still love that book!”

“I am… obsessed with this confidence.” Anthony grinned, “I’m obsessed with you.”

He doesn’t mean it like that. Kate sighed to herself, taking another long drag from her drink. He would make a move if he wanted to. He’s slept with a quarter of the girls on our course.

“Oh and what were you reading at 12? Were you composing a modern version of Beowulf?”

Anthony flushed, “There was some epic poetry involved, yes.”

Kate laughed, ruffling his hair, “You’re so stupid.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“If you’re so obsessed with me,” She snatched his brother’s Polaroid camera off the coffee table, “Take a picture so it’ll last longer.”

Anthony rolled his eyes at the challenge, “Well strike a pose for me then. Something worth capturing, please madam.”

She waited for the flash and the square of film to shoot out the bottom of the camera and their body’s swayed closer as she peered down at it. “Fuck, you better put that in your wallet, Bridgerton. A memento of this glorious night when we got along. When I looked pretty as hell”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Come on, you’re always fucking beautiful. You know that.”

She could sense the shift in the air. She felt her breath caught in her chest and she was suddenly too aware of how close her body was to his and the heat of the fire radiating between them. She was too aware of how easy it would be for him to close the distance between them, tilt her chin up and claim her lips for himself.

“Do I know that?”

“You should.” His eyes flicked down to her lips and his teeth bit his own, seconds slipping by. “I’m… having a nice time with you.”

“Yeah me too.”

Anthony took a shuddering breath and leaned backwards, slapping his hands against his thighs before he stood, his feet slipping on the floor in his socks. “Another drink while you prepare you Wuthering heights is the worst arguments?”

“Yeah.” Kate cleared her throat, hoping the firelight would distract from her own embarrassment as she pushed it down, “And I know you hate it too so don’t pretend!”

“Maybe I just want to hear your arguments!”

“You’re such a glutton for punishment.”

“Remind me to never bloody let you read my manuscript.”

“No promises there.”

[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Honey, All I See Is You

Part One

Jake x Reader (f)

Find All Parts Here

Warnings: None

Prologue

Steam wafts up from the mug sitting on the kitchen table. The sound of music playing in another room down the hall floats through the air. The clock on the oven blinks three a.m. His phone drops from his hands and hits the tile floor. A lump forms in his throat and his heart shatters.

One

Today is the start of everything.

Walking down the path, you inhale the crisp air and let it fill your lungs. The late autumn breeze chills you, but you can’t help but love this time of year. The leaves have started to fall from the trees and the earth prepares for the long nights and cold days. Tucking your chin down into your scarf, you trek on. 

You pass by several of your small towns’ businesses as you make your way through town. The smell of freshly baked bread floats through the air as you walk by the bakery. Glancing through the window, spot the baker and wave as you pass by. Walking a little further, you turn and hop up the step to the cafe and open the door. A little bell rings as you step in, closing the door behind you.

“Good morning! Be right with you!” You hear someone call from the back.

“Take your time!” You call back, pulling your scarf down and brushing your hair back out of your face.

A man you don’t recognize steps out from the back. 

“Hey, how’s it going this fine chilly morning?” He greets. 

You smile and say, “Pretty good, but it’ll be better with a cup of hot coffee.”

“What kind of coffee can I get you today?” He chuckles, grabbing a coffee cup and pen to write your order down.

“I’ll take a  Spanish latte, please.” You smile.

As he writes your order on the cup he says, “One Spanish latte, coming up.”

You say your thanks and turn to take a seat at the table by the window. Once seated, you pull out your phone and type a quick text.

“Hey, who’s the new guy?” You ask your friend Justin, the owner of the cafe.

“That’s an old buddy of mine. His name is Jake.” He types back.

“Gotcha, seems nice. Fingers crossed he doesn’t mess up my latte.” You tease.

“Here’s hoping, we spent all day yesterday practicing. Let me know how he does.”

You type back, “Will do!” 

After a few minutes of scrolling through your socials, you look up just as Jake sits your coffee on the counter and looks over at you. “One Spanish latte.” He says with a smile.

You smile back and stand, walking over to the counter taking the cup before grabbing a lid and putting it on. Jake looks at you expectantly and nods to the coffee. “Hope you enjoy.” He says.

Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take a sip and the bittersweet flavor coats your tongue. Sighing, you lick your lips and say, “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

With an unexpected sigh of relief, Jake grins and says, “No problem. Glad you like it.”

You smile back and lift the cup with a nod goodbye and turn to leave. Stepping out of the cafe, you turn to head to work. Taking a quick peak in through the window, you see Jake watching you leave. He smiles and waves. You return the gesture before continuing on your way.

Opening the door to Literary Labyrinth, the smell of books hits you and you breathe in deep. The smell of home, adventure, love and loss, all encased in these books. Turning to your left, you flip a switch and the overhead lights flicker on. You begin shedding your coat, scarf and purse as you make your way toward the back. Sitting your coffee on the counter, you hang your things on the coat rack in the corner before turning back around to begin opening the store.

You slowly make your way around the store, turning on lamps, picking up books left behind on the seats of wingback chairs, fluffing bean bag chairs in the kid/teen area. Humming to yourself, you put all the books you'd found back where they belong before heading back to the counter.

Walking around to the back of the counter, you sit on the stool and swivel the iPad POS around and tap the screen to get it ready for the day's sales. Once finished, you sigh and pick up your coffee. Taking a sip, you enjoy a few moments of peace before it’s time to flip the sign on the door to open.

The morning and most of the afternoon brings a steady flow of customers. From regulars who stop in everyday to chat about their latest reads to tourists who’d seen the storefront and wanted to check it out. Just as you finish bagging the last of a group of customers stack of poetry books, you hear the front door bell ring.

“Hi! Welcome to Literary Labyrinth!” You call out without looking up.

After throwing in a few free bookmarks and packets of tea, you hand the bag over to the customer with a smile and say brightly, “Have a great day! I hope you enjoy those books! Be sure to let me know what you think of them!” As they leave, you glance around the store to find the customer that had walked in moments before. Not seeing them, you walk around the counter and start to walk down the aisles to find them. 

Rounding the corner of the fiction section, you bump into the back of the customer.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” You stammer out.

As he turns around, you're greeted with a smile from Jake. “Clearly.” He chuckles.

Your face heats and you clear your throat. “Again, I apologize. Is there anything you’re looking for in particular?” You ask, gesturing toward the bookcases with a wave of your hand.

He smiles and shakes his head. “Just browsing. But I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

You swallow thickly and nod your head, clasping your hands behind your back and backing away. “Okay, I’ll just be up at the counter if you need anything.” You say, turning on your heels and heading back.

Taking a seat, you cross your legs and smooth your skirt and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You look to the counter and reach for the book you’d been reading between customers. Flipping through the pages, you stop where the receipt you’re using as a bookmark is and begin to read. 

A while passes, before you hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. Marking your place, you close the book in your hands and look up with a small smile. Jake closes the distance and lays a couple of books on the counter. Standing, you glance down at the titles before picking them up to scan the barcodes. You notice they’re the most recent installments of a popular fantasy book series.

“I haven’t had a chance to start this series yet, is it any good?” You ask.

“I really enjoy it. If you liked The Chronicles of Narnia as a kid, you’d probably like this series too. It’s the adult version of that.” He says.

“Nice! I’ll have to add it to my tbr then.” You say with a smile. “That’ll be $52.43.”

He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Opening it, he pulls out a few bills and hands them over to you. You take them and grab his change, handing it back. He smiles and stuffs it in his wallet while you bag his purchase. Grabbing the handles, you hold out the bag and say, “Well I hope you enjoy these as much as you did the rest of the series.”

Reaching out, his fingertips graze your hand, warming where he touches and sending a shiver down your spine. Something flashes in his eyes that you almost miss before he takes the bag from you. “Thanks. I hope you get around to reading it. I have a feeling it’ll be a new favorite.” He says with a grin.

You smile back and he turns to leave. Halfway to the door, he turns back around and says, “You know, I didn’t catch your name at the cafe this morning.” You smile and tell him. “A beautiful name to match a beautiful lady. I’m Jake.” He says, grin widening to a full smile. “Well, it was to formally meet you. I hope I get the pleasure of seeing you again.”

You blush and say, “It was nice to meet you too Jake."

With a tilt of his head and wave, he turns and walks out the door.

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged for this series just let me know and I'll add you to the list! 💕

[redbreastedbird]

Hi again!! What's your opinion of people drawing/writing Amina (and her mother and sisters, for that matter) wearing a hijab? Thanks :)

Oh this is interesting!!

Okay, so I have two answers. One is that as a fan, you can interact with a character however you want. If you want to imagine a hijabi Amina, you are so welcome to do so - that version of her is yours, and it belongs to you. She stopped being my character alone when I published a book about her - we all share her now!

My second answer, though, is that in terms of historical accuracy, no, she most likely wouldn’t have worn the hijab. This was something that came up in my research, and that I found super fascinating. Obviously fashions were very different then, but also (as far as I understand, please know that I am not an expert on this) the way people expressed their faith was quite different. It wasn’t as usual for wealthy Egyptian Muslim women to wear the hijab - instead they tended to wear (among other things) this devastatingly cool little hat/scarf combo:

I actually went into creating Amina’s character intending her to be a hijabi and came out of it realising that she wouldn’t have worn the hijab! (NB - again, please note that I’m sure some wealthy women did, and also that I think it was more common for working class women to do so. I’m not making any absolute statements here!)

While I’m on the subject of Egyptian women in the 1930s, I remember that I had to cut out a scene where Amina’s mother ran a women’s poetry/writing group. There was a real literary scene in Cairo in the 1930s, loads of women were published poets and writers and thinkers - it was really such an interesting time and I wish I’d been able to include more about that!

[pmamtraveller]

INTERIOR /1869/ by EDGAR DEGAS

This is a scene of dispute between a man and a partially undressed woman in the light of a lamp, so it feels like something violent is about to happen. Even the name of the painting is uncertain, for some acquaintances of Degas called it either "Le Viol" (The Rape) or more frequently "Intérieur" (Interior), which gives a hint of a more sinister meaning.

Art historians have, from time to time, tried to find a literary source for the painting, with scenes from the novel "Thérèse Raquin" by Émile Zola, but none has gained general acceptance. The dramatic, almost stage-like quality of the scene, with the arrangement of items as props, has added to the painting's sense of mystery and unease.

The open sewing box with its bright red lining has been interpreted symbolically for violated secrets or worse. It is also the suppressed anger of the man and the ominous shadow he casts behind him that  contribute to the painting's unsettling atmosphere. The woman's pose of shame and distress, with her cloak and scarf discarded,  invites a narrative of possible sexual violence or troubled marriage.

Some interpreters argue that traces of blood are depicted on the bed cover, a further hint of violence, while others maintain they are only shadows. In order to set a powerful psychological mood and convincing setting, Degas did great preparatory studies for the room and figures, and he blurred the story intentionally to seduce the viewer with the suggestive power of his painting and its unrevealed secrets.

Degas referred to "Interior" as "my genre painting," suggesting he considered it anomalous among his works and was experimenting with depicting everyday life in a mysterious, unsettling way.

[cardiagf]

An In-Depth Analysis of Okita and Saito Being Foils to One Another

Disclaimer:

I have only played the first game, and kyoto winds + edo blossoms so I may have missed a lot of other qualities from other sources.

This whole thing was born out of hyperfixation so it's not exactly a perfect analysis, just wanted to write ab these two regardless!

Also feel free to add details that I have missed :)

Spoilers ahead! mostly just from the CGs I have included in this post but this is an analysis either way so...

Long post ahead as well so buckle up.

What is a "Foil"?

Simply put, a foil is a character that contrasts another character to better highlight the qualities that these individual characters possess. One of the most popular literary examples of foils are Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.

And in this case, I will be highlighting the differences (and resemblance) of the Hakuoki characters, Okita Souji and Saito Hajime to each other

By Design

First, I would like to discuss their character design and how we can see them as characters by appearance

Their designs are a striking contrast of each other.

Seen by how more open and how thinly-clothed Okita is, highlighting his harsh and straightforward nature, he's someone who's not afraid to speak his mind.

On the other hand, Saito's design is more modest. Paired with a scarf that wraps around him and with socks as well, highlighting how reserved he is and how he usually keeps to himself, he's someone who is more closed off.

Their hairstyles also show more of their character, as Okita's hair is up and is like that because he's copying Kondou. On the other hand, Saito's hair seems more unkempt, it's covering half of his face and his right eye completely but he doesn't really care much for it, something that also contrasts how Okita's right side of face is more exposed

Their color palettes also create a difference between the two of them, a muted red with green accents for Okita while a vivid blue with cold silver/white accents for Saito

Sword placements are also on opposing sides but that's already a given since this is Saito.

As They Are

But beyond their appearance they have demeanors that separate them from one another, something that highly accentuates both of their characters personality-wise, these qualities being:

How Okita can be easily likened to a cat while Saito leans more to being dog-like. (It's also so much more complex than that as their own personalities seems to be reversed in this situation but it also makes so much sense why they are the way they are).

Their voices also contrast each other, Okita with Morikubo's high pitched playful voice v.s. Toriumi's deep and serious one.

They also have this thing where one could easily assume that someone like Okita would be using the 'Ore' pronoun for himself (bc it's more "vulgar") but he actually uses 'Boku' and Saito's the one who actually uses 'Ore.'

They're both blunt in their own ways: with Okita being far harsher with his words compared to how Saito speaks bluntly but with less of an edge and with more tact.

One's loyalty is placed towards Hijikata as he's the one who primarily runs the Shinsengumi while the other hates Hijikata's guts because he is Kondou's closest confidant and friend. Okita is undyingly loyal to Kondou as much as Saito is to his purpose of serving the Shinsengumi to a fault.

They constantly overwork themselves to the bone because they want to be useful to the Shinsengumi/the people that their loyalty lies on and both are really annoying patients when they get hurt because they will stop at NOTHING to try and be of help to the Shinsengumi.

^This creates a contrast on their roles as Saito was one of the most active people in the Shinsengumi (especially in his route) in contrast to Okita, who was bedridden in all of the routes even in his own, not being able to do much to help his comrades in battle due to his condition.

Okita sees everyone as equal, as in he doesn't care about anyone else besides Kondou as he is the only person he thinks highly of. He thinks of everyone else, including himself to be under Kondou.

While Saito is in the position of constant belittlement of others just for being left handed, he wants more than anyone to be seen as an equal as he does so for everyone especially in a place of battle. But he doesn't belittle others in the way that Okita does even if he sees people like Hijikata as someone above him.

One is stoic and seems emotionless but the other is a huge perpetual smiler. With Saito just being more composed, rather than being cunning or calculating like Okita, someone who hides it all with his smile in which we will dive more into...

Both Okita and Saito are highly emotionally repressed individuals, brought by how they were treated in their younger days.

Saito had always suppressed his emotions to cultivate a clearer and more rational mind, fearing that this could hinder his ability to do his job and to do his job well. He fears that emotions could cloud his judgement especially during the times where he needed to be level-headed.

While Okita is someone who DOES let his emotions get ahead of him bc of his dedication to Kondou. But these emotions are only focused on one thing and that is everything that involves Kondou and Kondou alone. Everything else that wasn't about him is something that he absolutely does not care about.

They're both emotional beings (naturally) but Saito whose repressed feelings and stoic demeanor may make him seem more cold and apathetic when in reality he isn't as merciless as how the thorny Okita can be if it didn't (or if it did) involved Kondou.

Have I been of any use to the Shinsengumi at all?

Now, let's move onto the main meat of this analysis: their character motivation and their desires.

Both Okita and Saito wants to be of help to the Shinsengumi, or mainly the people that they are loyal to.

They both have this problem of seeing themselves as a tool for the Shinsengumi. This is something that both are more than willing to be one because of the people that gave them purpose: Kondou for Okita, and the Shinsengumi and by extent, Hijikata, for Saito for giving him a place to belong to, a place where he is respected for just being the way he is as a warrior and as a person.

The stark contrast between Saito and Okita especially with regards to how they view their duties as a member of the Shinsengumi and as warriors who had shed a lot of blood is hauntingly fascinating.

Both Okita and Saito had killed a LOT of people. It was part of the job anyways, and they were high ranking captains of the Shinsengumi, it'd be weirder if they haven't.

However, Saito is more of the pragmatic warrior of the two, aware of the lives that he took and how being a warrior means that it's a me or him situation. This means that he had killed a lot of people just so he can stay alive and be alive, as he is right now. Although killing isn't something he particularly enjoys, it's something that proves one's strength over the other.

However, all of this still encapsulates a form of respect in some way, moreso as a way to honor each other as a combatant. He isn't just mindlessly killing other people just because he was asked to or he needed to (of course, he would still kill them if that was what he was ordered to but he just doesn't unnecessarily shed blood if he didn't need to do so) and he's perfectly aware of all this as he carries this burden as a warrior.

Okita, on the other hand, is apathetic.

He's as aware as Saito when it comes to the deliberation of life and death between him and those that he had killed, it's just that he doesn't care since it was an order (something he can do for Kondou), so he will do it regardless of who or what you are, that is his burden and duty as the sword of the shinsengumi. if he has to kill he WILL kill.

I see it as something similar to projection of some sort, I think, since he has no other purpose, he isn't some kind of honorable pragmatic solider like Saito who lives for his sword and carries the heart of a warrior, what he wants is to be useful to Kondou and this is something he believes that he can do for him.

Other than this duty for Kondou, he has no other life to call as his. It's in his own cynical ways that makes it easy for him to take away the lives of other people. Which, in an almost karmic fashion, can his life be easily taken away by his incurable disease as well.

But something even more fascinating ab them is their individual motivations, their actual desires or what they actually wanted to do.

It is, however, blurred by their sense of duty and sticking to the purpose that they have crafted for themselves, they are driven by something that is both hugely different and quite similar to one another.

Okita KNOWS what he wants and that's to be useful to Kondou in any way that he can be. To him, his sole purpose is to serve Kondou. The idea of being useless to him is what mainly drives him into a a depressive spiral, he's THE sword of Shinsengumi, something that is at the extent of Kondou. For Okita, he sees himself as none other than a tool for Kondou's biddings.

Saito, on the other hand, found his purpose through the Shinsengumi. He had a place where he was accepted for who he is. He thrived in following orders from Hijikata as this is what fulfills him as a person, to be of use to those who accepted fully and didn't shun him away. But in comparison, Saito DOESN'T EXACTLY KNOW what he truly wants besides for honoring and priding himself as a warrior or as a vassal of the Shinsengumi.

He had trained hard for HIS sword and for his skills AS a warrior and he knows nothing beyond that. He also sees himself as a tool for the Shinsengumi's bidding but in a way that both differs and also resembles Okita's purpose for being in the Shinsengumi.

In Conclusion

Okita Souji and Saito Hajime are both well-written characters. These two are the two stand-out characters of the series and it's their own distinct differences that makes them stand out. Furthermore, they are the best example of foils in the whole series in comparison to the other foil characters in the series (such as Hijikata-Chikage), as they are both well fleshed out as individuals and moreso as a duo.

I just find it so interesting how the two of them resemble each other in contrasting ways. It's these differences they have that compliments and accentuates the qualities that they possess and I find that really fascinating.

Anyways I'm really bad at writing conclusions T___T but thank you so much for reading! I enjoyed writing this and hakuoki is like a dormant interest of mine so this was really fun to do :D

[universalzone]

https://universalzone.net/products/sense-and-sensibility-scarf-shawl-wrap

Sense and Sensibility Scarf Shawl Wrap. Literary Gift, Book Scarf, Cozy Accessory, Jane Austen Fans, Classic Novel Lover Gift

[watermelonsugacry]

i saw this edit on tiktok AND IT REMINDED ME SO MUCH OF BANDMATE YN AND HARRY THE AUDIO, EDIT, EVERYTHING!!

and i was wondering if u wanted to u could use it as prompt for a little scenario or something !!

BUT OMG I CANT WAIT FOR THIS MOVIE TO OCME OUT ITS GONNA BE SO BANDMATE YN AND HARRY AH

ok but the Daisy Jones and The Six mocumentary series is so 1d!yn and harry...like it's literary the Jamacia, Writing Fine Line, and Building Harry's House series!!!

and as for that tiktok...

-2010-

The band is lined up in a row on stage as they perform a cover of You Are So Beautiful. They're already halfway through the competition and that first place award seems to be getting closer and closer each week.

In the center of this line-up, Harry finishes singing his part before taking a step back to let Zayn continue the song. When he does so, the sixteen-year-old looks to his female bandmate to his left. YN bobs her head along to the music, getting lost in the song.

After pulling her cardigan closer around herself, she slightly turns her head to meet her bandmate's gaze. Harry thinks she looks absolutely angelic with the orange lights illuminating the stage, the smoke swirling by their feet, her bright eyes looking back at him, and her gentle smile resting comfortably on her lips.

It still feels surreal that he first met this girl at his Band of the Bands competition the year prior, falling for a stranger he never got the chance to talk to. Thinking he'd never see her again, he's heart beat picks up at the realization that he's now singing with her, that they're in a band together!

The two teenagers break their gaze, looking at the cloudy ground while attempting to tame their smiles before taking a hold of their microphone stands to continue the song.

-2015-

After Harry finishes singing the second chorus for You & I, the band all take a moment to feel the music and take a step back from their microphone stands. The band is getting closer to their last show for their last tour before they take their well-needed hiatus.

Harry puts his hands behind his back and can't help but naturally look over to YN next to him. She strums her acoustic guitar before letting it ring out with a shake of its neck.

She looks at him and the wind knocks her out of her chest. She remembers the first year when they were placed in a band together. She wasn't a person who had crushes on guys easily but she found herself succumbing to his mop of curly hair that has now grown out past his shoulders and the dimples that still dig into his cheeks. Instead of a stylish scarf around his neck, she can see the two sparrows adorning his chest.

Out of muscle memory, she strums her guitar when the beat drops as she gets lost in the sight of her bandmate. Harry throws her a wink with a smirk gracing his mouth.

The two are definitely in another mindset than what their media-training has instilled in them for years as they continue to stare at one another for the rest of the song. The stadium full of screaming fans is drowned out and they're the only ones on stage.

-2018-

Harry looks fondly at YN as she sings Zayn's high note with her eyes closed and a scrunch of her cheek. They tilt their upper bodies to face one another as they sing the romantic lyrics. Their bodies bob to the mellow beat and their voices blend beautifully together as she sings her adlibs and other high notes for the song.

No, nothing can come between

You and I

After YN's name comes out Harry's lips, the fans absolutely lose it when they see how she walks to the center of the stage in her gold, rainbow colored dress. The two former band mates embrace, naturally digging their faces into one another's necks, and the arena practically vibrates from all their screaming.

As they sing Still The One, the audience is trembling in excitement, tears streaming down their faces as they shakily record the performance. If the fans only knew that they’re secretly treading into the deep end past friendship and into something more behind closed doors.

The two of them don't even acknowledge the crowd all that much as they sing. They dedicate the words to one another with so much love behind their eyes and passion from their lips.

As they sing the chorus and Harry continues to strum the guitar she gifted him, he stares fondly onto the womn next to him. YN closes her eyes as she sings, taking the sides of her exquisite dress and lifting it besides herself, extending out and letting it flutter itself back down. A faint breeze of wind from the fans surrounding the edges of the stage delicately pushe her hair back and he thinks that she looks unworldly.

Looks like we've made it

Look how far we've come my baby

.

Even after they finish the song, as the fans scream at the top of their lungs, the two former band members stay standing there for a minute longer. They lock eyes, their chest rising and falling at a steady and peaceful pace. A soft smile it's on YN’s lips and a dimpled smirk on his.

.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

taglist:

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[andiftheycare]

Fics Masterpost

**Disclaimer: I’m making this for my own peace of mind and because I like to think that I’m actually writing most of these and seeing them in a post makes all my draft docs more real (insert here me sobbing). I’m not a native speaker so my English is wobbly at times. Cheers!**

How To Series

JJK shoujo manga au in which nothing bad happens ever.

How Satoru and Suguru Became Boyfriends

High School AU, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Valentine’s Day fic

Rumor goes Satoru and Suguru are dating, but are they?

OR High School au where Satoru and Suguru try to survive Valentine’s day and almost-surely-don’t-acidentally end up on a date.

How Satoru Knit A Scarf (mini long, around 14k)

High School Au, White day fic, miscommunication, established relationship

Satoru decides to knit his boyfriend a scarf for White Day. Armed with Haibara sister's knitting needles and Riko’s unwanted comments, he sets himself on a mission of knitting it in two weeks.

Except that he can be as good at everything as he wants, but knitting is painfully slow, and he has to hurry up if he wants to surprise Suguru.

Meanwhile, Suguru is trying to ask his boyfriend out for their first date – as a couple, not as friends – and wondering why Satoru is doing his best to avoid him at any given opportunity.

Or: stupid teeangers being stupid.

7/11 (one shot, 2k)

High School Au, Nanami POV, established stsg

Exams are approaching and Nanami is not spending the summer in school, thank you very much. Geto helps (or tries to.)

Or: Nanami is the only person yet unaware of Geto and Gojo’s relationship. Now he wants to burn his eyes.

Parts of your soul, Publishing AU series

They don’t die at the end

Publishing au, writer Gojo Satoru, book publicist Geto Suguru, getting together, miscommunication, burn out, non linear narrative, email fic, mixed media

Gojo Satoru is one of Japan's most celebrated literary writers. At least, that’s what his publisher tells him.

Geto Suguru is his book publicist, which is slightly inconvenient as he’s also: 1) his high school best friend who left him before graduation and 2) the love of his life.

When Suguru hands in his notice, Satoru makes it everyone’s problem.

Untitled full they don’t die at the end (multichapter, currently scared of how many words this will be)

Publishing au, angst with happy ending, getting together, slow burn, like ten years long slow burn, miscommunication, inappropriate office behaviour, burn out, publishing lingo, power dynamics, eventual smut, light dom/sub in parts, overworking, possessive Gojo Satoru, Geto needs therapy, more tags to be added

Spanning across ten years of maybes and won’t, this is the publishing au no one ever asked for.

Flat 23 (mini long, word count tbc)

Publishing au, getting together, slice of life, literally nothing bad happens in this fic, living together, editorial assistant Yuuji Itadori, Vet student Megumi Fushiguro, overall Queen Nobara Kugisaki

Nobara needs a housemate. ASAP. Because she’s on a publishing salary and can’t afford her monthly travelcard, let alone sharing the rent of a third empty room with Yuuji.

Megumi needs a flat. Possibly in the next 48 hours. His landlord is evicting him at the end of the week, and he refuses to go back living with Gojo. Let alone now that Gojo has a boyfriend basically living with him.

When he meets Nobara, Megumi thinks the place is too cheap to be true, but Kugisaki seems fine, and he can live for six months in a pet free house. Enters Yuuji Itadori, now bane of his existence.

he frog you swan one shot

Tongue Tied

Au - No powers, sort of reincarnation au, slice of life, umbrella thief, suggestive at times, office au, more tags to be added

Geto Suguru's an overworked salary man trying to get a promotion. One thing he doesn't need in his life is getting his umbrella stolen every time he goes to the convenience store to buy dinner.

Gojo Satoru's the konbini new menace and a terrible flirt. Somehow, Geto knows him -- except that they haven't met before.

☂️ part 1

☂️ part 2.1

☂️ part 2.2

☂️part 3

[isfjmel-phleg]

Photographs, 1916

Rachel Doncath, age twenty-five. She stands steadily and faces the camera, but her eyes show a hint of glancing at someone out of the shot. There is a hint of humor about her expression, as if the unseen person were trying to make her laugh. She wears the height of fashion, a dress with a higher waist and a fuller skirt with a hem high enough to expose a pair of delicate shoes that lace up her ankles. Underneath her wide-brimmed hat, her hair is waved. A watch is clipped to her waistband, and she holds her handbag at the ready, as if she hasn't much time to waste in the photographer's studio. A notation on the back of the photograph indicates that it was taken in Otionovia during a state visit from Queen Rietta.

Rietta I of Faysmond, age twenty-six. This is her yearly formal photograph, a portrait of her in state intended for mass production. Unlike most previous years, she sits rather than stands. Her court gown, dripping with various sorts of intricate lace representing different regions of Faysmond, engulfs her, as does an impressive train swept in front of her. The glove of her left hand is removed, revealing her famous emerald engagement ring and wedding ring. The state crown of Faysmond rests on a table beside her, and on her head is a smaller (but not small!) crown. Not a curl is out of place; they seem to have been tamed with some sort of hair product. Her expression is difficult to read. There is something uncertain in her gaze.

Delclis V of Corege, age twenty-five. An unnamed photographer has caught him sitting in the corridor outside a conference room before a meeting. His face is partially turned away toward a large window through which sunlight is streaming. He wears a dress uniform with sash and decorations. His pince-nez rest on his nose. They are attached to a string tied to one of his medals. A wire fox terrier puppy paws at his knee, and he strokes its ears. A faint smile crosses his face. He appears to be desperately trying to grow a moustache.

Elystan, Duke of Gorchester, age twenty-one. He is posing in the full academic dress of a BA from Hollingham University over an elegantly-cut suit. One hand rests nonchalantly on a pile of books on a table, representing his literary studies. The other hand is on his hip, exhibiting the sleeve of his gown. He holds himself regally, shoulders back, chin uplifted a little. His eyes are less dark-circled and his face less hollow than in earlier photographs. He looks very pleased with himself.

Amarantha Melbray, age twenty-one. In a pose reminiscent of a famous self-portrait of her favorite Renaissance artist, Teofila, she sits at her easel lifting a brush to an already-complete painting of a little girl. The painting is identifiable as "Portrait of Chrysantha" (1916), produced during Melbray's time at the Royal Art Academy. Her palette and an orderly paintbox wait nearby. She wears a ruffled light-colored frock that she clearly would never have worn while actually painting. Her hair is pinned high on the back of her head and waves over her ears. She fixes the camera with a steady, intent gaze.

Tamett Låsrygg, age twenty-one. An informal photograph, made clear by the wide grin on his face. He leans casually against the side of an aeroplane. His arms are crossed over his chest. He wears a leather jacket and flying helmet with goggles. A scarf, probably knitted by his sister Emenor, drapes around his neck. Noriberrian insignia is pinned to the lapel of his jacket. The photograph is inscribed with his signature and the words "With love from New Archangel. Watch the skies for me soon!"

Josiah Callon, age twenty-one. He sits at the piano, one hand over the keys, the other holding a pair of spectacles, which he appears to have just removed. His long legs stretch out in front of him; after years of track and field at Hollingham, he is built like a runner. A morning suit, with its cutaway tailcoat, accentuates his height. Instead of the common 1910s male practice of slicking back the hair into flat smoothness using oil, his hair is parted on the side with curls dipping across the forehead above one eye. His expression is not so much haughty as it is profoundly serious and a little sad.

[majokkid]

In CLAMP’s literary universe, a magic circle (魔法陣, mahoujin) is a figure comprised of symbols related to the powers, techniques, and rank of a magician. Generally, magic circles are what differentiates magicians from one another—much like a signature. Magic circles work like a field of energy that activates the moment a magician is about to perform a spell.

In Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card, Sakura’s circle keeps the symbols of the sun and moon on opposite sides of a star in the center. The center of the circle consists of a 6- and a 12-pointed star with six 5-pointed stars on every other point. Two of the elements are situated on either side of the circle, between the sun and moon, enclosed in circles. The order of symbols in the outer circle are as follows (from left to right, clockwise): Sun, 火 (Fire), 風 (Wind), Moon, 地 (Earth), and 水 (Water).

When I adapted Sakura’s magic circle for my work, I abandoned the original kanji, replacing them with illustrations adapted from medieval woodblock prints. (While I did study Mandarin for several years, I have not formally, or really informally, incorporated any Chinese or Japanese spiritual practices into my own magical work and I did not feel like it was appropriate symbolism to keep in my magic circle.) I have used this circle often in my divinatory work—my personal divination deck inspired by the Clow bears a simplified version of this circle on the back of each card and I generally read them on a scarf that also has this circle—and I cast this circle every time I perform a banishing or utilize my cards for spellcraft.