#caprice crane

[soraviie]

tugging at his hair.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: angst, fluff, (themes of) smut, the holy trifecta  ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: may or may not have seen Yoongi's insta pic...may or may not be feeling very normal about it

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: Atypically, your boyfriend was actually quite the whiny guy. Friday evening, time - 20:30. Thanks to some uncanny miracle, Namjoon was free this night and you’d been eager to soak up each other’s company. You sat largely silent, tucked into his side and openly staring, merely breathing an infrequent “yeah” and “no way” so he wouldn’t suspect you were not listening. Though you were not listening, catching the jumping cadence of his offended voice only with the tip of your ears. Far too engrossed in admiring the glowing shade of his skin and furiously working cheeks, you felt your mind slip. Never before have you thought that someone resting on the couch, passively aggressively minding on chips could make your heart bleed with love. But everything about Namjoon was soft and comfortable. 

Unwittingly, you zeroed in on the tuft of his hair, poking out from underneath his hoodie. Without fully registering, you trailed your fingers down the hood, pulling it down and proceeded to tug at the back of his hair. Namjoon’s cheeks froze and with mouth full, he glanced at your side. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Don’t know,” you shrugged. “You’re compelling like that.”

He returned back to the chips, completely unperturbed by the looks of it. 

“You need to condition them more,” noting absent-mindedly, you played with whatever strand called your fancy. He rolled his eyes, pinching your bare thigh. 

“Ow!

“You should be whispering sweet nothings in my ear,” he grumbled. “Confess how much you adore me, how hot I am.”

“Right,” you agreed, leaning into his expectant expression. “Your hair is also greasy as fuck. You should shower more.”

Violently, he hurled you into the decorative pillows scrunched from your combined weight, frowning at the easy laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m dating a bully,” he muttered bitterly, yet when you nosed at his neck, he craned it with no small amount of enthusiasm, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Sure are,” you purred. “Can I play with your greasy hair more? Pretty please?” His eyes lingered, firmly set on the playing movie, but you reckoned his neck did grow increasingly warmer. 

“You’ll do it no matter what I say.” 

“‘Cause you’ve never said “no” to me.”

At that, he heaved a tormented sigh. 

“True. I’m but a lowly servant of love.”

You chuckled, pushing the black hair away from his forehead, messing it up. After a moment, with a barely concealed grin, he offered:

“Maybe now I can card through your leg hair.”

“Not funny,” you glared at him but Namjoon merely sniggered further on. 

“A little funny.”

YOONGI: Your hand was practically aching as it laid listlessly by your side, partially sinking into the plush sofa of his studio. Fully drowned in work, he sat by the monitor, one hand coming to rest by his lips, the other - tinkering with the beat. And his hair - the hair - curled around him like a ring of halo. He drew a heavy sigh, reaching up to muss the chief objects of unease further. Yet you couldn’t just follow the delirious caprice. Yoongi was a guarded man, he liked his personal space and, despite how much you longed for it, you couldn’t just tug at his long hair. The relationship was still fresh and had to be trodden like a melting glacier - nice and easy. Crossing the itching arms over your stomach, you huffed in discontent. 

“What?” he suddenly hummed, and you recoiled, assuming he was blissfully ignorant of your lingering stare. 

“Nothing,” you replied, but his chair turned, a pair of disbelieving eyes falling your way.

“Just say it.”

“I want to tug at your hair,” the sentence practically rushed out as though your body was actively disregarding your own orders. 

“Why don’t you just do it?”

You nibbled with your fingers suddenly feeling rather foolish. 

“I want to be respectful,” you muttered underneath the nose, and a second later, you grasped what sound Yoongi was making. Laughing.

He was laughing at you.

Resting his forehead against the desk, you saw his shoulders wag in muffled glee. 

“You know,” he faced you, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Most couples grope each other the first chance they get.”

“Oh, shut it,” groaning, you sank into the sofa, only for all objections to wither into the ether once Yoongi lowered his head with a soft “come ‘ere”. 

Cautiously, fearing the dream could shatter at the moment’s passing, you made your way to where he sat and with bated breath curled your palm around his fluffy curls, giving them a tender yet generous pull. Something akin to instant relief flooded your system, making the tips of your fingers tingle. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Yoongi wondered, the curve of his smile suggesting he was barely holding himself back from teasing you into oblivion. You tugged at his hair once more, this time harder, and a prolonged moan left his lips, startling you both. 

“Not as much as you, it seems,” you smirked down at him, enjoying how his eyes flitted away from you, self-conscious red dusting his cheeks. 

“Just go for it next time,” he grumbled shyly, making no move to pull away. “Before you give yourself an IBS.”

JIN: He knew what you wanted by the frankly terrifying gleam hidden behind your eye. There was something entirely transfixed passing your expression as you stared at his head with steely determination. Ordinarily, Jin was content with your inexplicable obsession. Rather this than pulling at his cheeks, he reckoned, however, now…

“I won’t pry ________ off of me,” he whined, gazing into a mirror. Even to his completely normal and unscrambled brain, the permed curls resting atop his forehead seemed inviting. Fluffy. Moussed. Reasonably asking to be tugged. 

“Oh, what a torture,” Namjoon dragged aridly, perched in the corner, not unlike a sullen owl. “You have someone to go home to who loves to play with your hair. Poor you.”

Graciously ignoring the seeping sarcasm, JIn breathed a tormented sigh. 

“I know right.”

Namjoon merely rolled his eyes, returning back to his quiet moping. 

When Jin crossed the threshold, he found you immersed in laundry, folding it and turning to greet him home like always.

“Hello!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “How was your da-”

Frightfully, he swallowed. Your expression grew distant and in spite of his jerky movements, your attention never wavered from the top of his head. 

“May I eat at least?” he mewled weakly and you nodded just not before actually thinking about it. 

After eating in peace, the last one he’d get for the evening, Jin slowly trodded to the bedroom, shoulders hung low in premature defeat. On the other side of the door, you were waiting for him already, blinking expectantly from underneath the covers. After a prolonged groan, he obliged your whims and settled his head on your lap. To get it over with. 

Instantly, your fingers delved deep into his curls, tugging and twirling them to your heart’s strange desire. 

“How cute,” you gushed. “So fluffy!”

Jin closed his eyes, trying to suppress the blossoming smile. Perhaps, he didn’t entirely hate being coddled in such a fashion but you didn’t need to know that. Unbeknownst, to him, you were more than aware as, in spite of his efforts to mask the pleased grimace, he failed to conceal the ears burning bright red. 

HOSEOK: “Sorry,” he said, squirming and glancing to the side. “But no.”

Well, no was no and you just had to learn how to live with it. Every time your hand subconsciously reached to grasp a strand of his hair between your fingers, not really meaning anything good or bad, just doing so out of instinct, you reigned it back, forcing the treasonous hand to ultimately fall unused. It may or may not have taken you a whole year to timidly wonder aloud:

“Why don’t you like for me to touch your hair?” 

Hoseok was practically asleep - his voice came crackling from the other side of the bed. 

“It’s nothing personal,” he sighed, cracking one eye open, glancing at your demure expression through the dark. “It’s just…” then he fell silent. Only after a pregnant pause, one long enough for you to assume he’d succumbed to sleep, he casually brushed it off:

“It’s just a preference.”

He rolled on the side and the conversation ended there. 

“Hey, ______________!” Jimin greeted you brightly the second you took a step inside the partially hidden makeup studio. Being nearly four in the morning, filming’s end, sparsely anyone was present and even those few people didn’t bother acknowledging you through the haze of insomnia. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He smirked, all cheek as always. 

“Could ask the same for you. It’s really late.”

You shrugged, enjoying the distraction of easy chatter. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Supposed Hoseok would appreciate some company home.”

“Ah, dear ______________,” Jimin snaked a hand around your shoulder. “Geniuses think alike.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, scurrying away from his treacherous hold. “Don’t try to seduce me into being your fangirl. It won’t happen.”

What was with Jimin and his tenacious will to make himself your bias you did not know and you never quite asked either, although it provided plenty of icebreakers across the slew of accidental meetings. 

“Shame,” he drawled. “Maybe better though. Hoseok would kill me.”

To properly lament the wretched situation, Jimin sighed and reached to rake a hand through his hair. Hair that had been growing out and now sat shining with silver highlights. Unwittingly, your hand jolted by the side of your thigh. 

“You want to touch?” he offered, sporting a grin too devious for your peace of mind. You probably shouldn’t but what’s the big deal…It’s just hair…

Doors to the room sprang open with a great bang and you crossed gazes with Hoseok, instantly swallowing in guilt. With expression previously lax, now growing cloudy, he flitted between you and Jimin. 

“What’s going on?” with narrowed glare, he questioned, voice falling in a carefully curated tone which was, of course, far more menacing. 

“Just waiting for you superstar,” Jimin laughed thinly only to wither when placed underneath Hoseok’s chilling frown. “On second thought, I’ll get home on my lonesome. Goodbye!”

And without giving anyone the time to even blink, Jimin had already disappeared into thin air. No, he was definitely not winning any favours from you.  

The drive back home was spent in fraught silence, with Hoseok’s hands gripping the wheel so tight, every now and then it heaved a maltreated scream. Any minute soon the wrath bubbling underneath his skin would surge like pressurised water out of a geyser. However, Hoseok wasn’t a jealous person, even less when it came to the members. Both were trusted explicitly. Was it stress perhaps? 

Finally, he crumbled. 

“What is it with you and hair?” he sneered sharply. Straight away you bristled at the unspoken accusation. 

“Nothing. Better yet what’s with you? I can’t even talk to Jimin now?”

“You went to him with the one thing, I couldn’t give you,” he countered as the car surged with tension.

“I did not go to him!” you squalled in frustration. “Are you even hearing yourself?!”

“It’s our thing!”

“No, it’s mine! You hate -!”

“It’s because of my ex, okay?!”

An awkward silence settled in the space between you. Red light pooled through the windshield.

“She liked to play with my hair,” he explained, anger abating as it was quickly seized by contrite embarrassment. “And I was afraid that if you’d do it, I would unwillingly think of her. You deserve better than that.” 

You bit your lip to stop the growing smile, simply breathing: “I see.” Then - 

“However, how would I know what you’re thinking?”

He stared ahead, lips thinning identical to yours. 

“Probably wouldn’t,” he sighed. “But I’d feel at blame.”

You hummed and gazed outside the window, still battling the blossoming smile, though it was nothing compared to the warmth churning within your chest. A hand reached for yours and Hoseok guided your fingers towards his hair. It was finer than you realized but nice. It was Hoseok after all. 

“Are you thinking of her?” you gently pondered. 

“Not at all,” he whispered in a breathy voice, eyes briefly falling shut. “You’re the only one for me.”

JIMIN: Instead of happiness, his lips pursed into a thin line, gaze becoming evasive. 

“Thank you, but I’m too tired.”

“I’ll help you.”

“I…I’m not in the mood for sex either.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed forlornly, literally feeling him slip through the cracks of your fingers. “Just…get in, and I’ll take care of you,” in a smaller voice, you added. “Like you do of me.”

Standing in the cracked gap of the bathroom door, he contemplated for a second, before breathing a heavy exhale, one expressing the entire weight of the world. Water sloshed as he got in the bath you drew up, and the window soon was covered by a thick layer of condensation, the deep black night growing matted behind it. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he tossed over the bare shoulder, but you brushed his concerns away. 

“I want to.”

“If it's because what I said -”

“It’s not.”

“- then I was out of line.”

“You were not.”

“I take it back.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But -”

Every time he spoke, his head turned to steal a glimpse of you, perhaps entirely on instinct, the water doused you with a heavy wave, drenching the floor and dumping the rose petals out with it. You grasped his head between your palms, keeping him still at least long enough to apologize sans the pain of his scrutinising gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, letting your forehead rest on the back of his neck. “I won’t ever let you feel like taken for granted.” 

He sat unmoving for a long time and you gasped shakily, trying to swallow the budding tears. Well, obviously you would self-sabotage the only good thing in your life. Only naturally at this point in life...

…but this was Jimin and it didn’t matter whether you tucked yourself away in a locked room or an ocean away, he’d extend you the same kindness you were so eager to return. Pulling your arms around his neck, he smiled, laying a tender kiss upon your trembling knuckles. 

“Nothing to forgive,” he muttered. “We were never in the wrong.”

You choked back a sob. Nonetheless, the night was still about him. 

“Right,” you sobered up, pushing him lower in the water. “Just try to relax.”

“Are you planning to kill me?” he teased tiredly. “Besides, it’s a bit difficult given that my cock is just…out here,” he gestured vaguely at his lower part and you chuckled thinly. 

“Nothing new to me. This is just…romantic.”

“Well, you certainly know the befitting aesthetic,” pointedly, he peered across the dozens of scent-free candles littered over every available surface of the bathroom and the pink petals now displayed haphazardly between the bath and the grey mat beside it. 

Pressing a handful of shampoo in his hair, you hissed with mock annoyance: “oh, zip it.”

You kept working in now pleasant silence. Peace was in the house, at least it was until…

His groan was near explicit and watching Jimin throw his head back, nuzzling deeper into your hands, you knew you’d never forget the sight. It didn’t even seem like he’d registered it and soon enough the curiosity overwhelmed you. You rinsed his hair and then scratched lightly across the scalp. Another moan, even longer and somehow so filthy you could swear your entire body flushed. 

“So…” he chuckled, strangely nervous. “Did I just give you a quick way to control my entire nervous system?”

You laid a kiss on his nape and the water rippled from his shudder.

“Sure did.”

The moons now adorning his spine were entirely at fault here or so you insisted, tugging his styled hair between your fingers, occasionally scratching just to see the struggle to keep his eyes open. 

“The stylist is going to kill you,” he warned breathily but Jimin was never more grateful for losing his composure, that day in the bath than he was at this moment. Like grime washed away by a wet towel, your presence eased his worry into the void, while your fingers twirling his hair kept him there. How strange that such a small thing could do so much but then again if it did not, then would Jimin have bought a ring that now laid in his jacket pocket, heavy and searing like the infinite weight of Cosmos.

“Worth it,” you hummed. He couldn’t agree more. 

TAEHYUNG: Frankly, the question of your enjoyment never made it into the equation as before you could even wonder of the idea, Taehyung had shamelessly thrust his head into your lap. 

“I don’t wanna,” you whined by now not needing a verbal order to know what he craved. 

“Too bad,” retorting without so much as an ounce of empathy, he grasped your fingers, bringing them down upon his head. Five minutes later he was snoring on your legs and no amount of force could rouse him, divine or otherwise. It was a language of his, one he talked exclusively with you. 

Trees breezed past the rolling car and sitting still, you watched them blur into wide, rushing lines. At first innocent, his palm intertwined with yours, gaze locked on the road ahead. You hummed. He liked to hold hands, and so did you, only for yours to suddenly be submerged within his dark curls. 

“Seriously?!” you yelped, and he chuckled with no small amount of glee. 

The door smacked behind, or it would have if Taehyung had not been hot on your heels the entire way home. 

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung mumbled, by now so many times it didn’t remotely even sound like a proper sentence. 

“Not accepted,” you sneered, yanking off the jacket, maybe tearing a button or two in the process. “You embarrassed me! And for what?! Some childish caveman display of jealousy?” 

The rest of the insult is expressed through a hardened scowl. As you jostled, enraged and unthinking, to peel off the stifling layers, Taehyung enclosed you into a hug, towering above you, his head lowered into the crook of your neck. 

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” pitifully he muttered, a warm breath ghosting over your collarbone. “Take it out on me but promise you won’t be mad afterwards.”

Without even quite thinking, you wrenched out of his grasp and seized his hair, yanking it harshly towards you. At the back of your mind, panic took root - were you hurting him? Was this not wrong? But Taehyung grew positively limp, pliant, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as his widened eyes tracked your every movement. 

“I’m really angry,” you whispered with a frown. 

“I’m sorry,” uselessly, he whimpered when you grasped at his locks. “It’s just…”

All you have to do is tug again for a high-pitched squeal to rip from the depths of his chest. “Don’t want to lose you.”

Something in the near incoherent way he breathed it, made your heart soften. 

“Why are you crying?” you asked quietly, wiping the stray tear off his cheek. 

Early morning hued the sky pink as you lay beside each other, relishing in the muted stillness of the room. 

“Don’t know,” Taehyung sniffled. “Felt like it.”

You reached to brush his hair and soon enough he was slumbering again - all tears faded into the dawning cold. 

JUNGKOOK: Frankly, you didn’t grasp why in situations such as these the other partner always offered sex. You were far more willing to simply lug this nightstand at Jungkook’s head. Without knocking you cracked open the doors to his gaming room, discerning the explosive sounds of combat swirling around the room. 

“Jungkook, you promised!” you complained and he held out a hand, gaze locked on the game. 

“I’ll be there soon, babe,” he lied in between strangled curses. “Just one more round.”

He’d muttered that already two fruitless hours ago. 

“No, now!” you threatened, coming to stand by his chair, watching the battle unfold, thoroughly unimpressed by it. He offered some incoherent noise that lacked any meaning, and in a flash of swirling annoyance, you yanked at his hair, forcing his eyes to land upside down upon your face. 

“Now.”

Most people would hastily become upset at such a gesture but the little masochist grinned from cheek to cheek, expression gaining a certain twinkle. You groaned at his satisfaction. Couldn’t even playfully torment him. The brat enjoyed it. 

“Okay, folks,” he spoke into the headset, with your hand still firmly latched in his shaggy hair. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’ve got to go.”

Someone hollered in the chat but it went entirely unheard. Pushing the chair away from the desk, he reached to pull your other arm to rest on top of his thundering heart. 

“What’s up, babe?”

For someone who was jerked by the roots of his hair, Jungkook appeared entirely too delighted. 

“I need you -”

“Oh, you need me?”

“To hammer in the nails to the nightstand. Brat,” saying so, your grip on his hair grew harsher. All that came of it was Jungkook’s raspy laughter, eyes briefly fluttering shut and lips carving a sharp line in his dimpled cheeks. 

“Couldn’t you just do it yourself?”

“Well if injury is to happen, I’d prefer it is you, not me.”

“Liar,” he smirked. “You cried when I tripped.”

Traitorous heat snuck its way onto your cheeks. 

“I thought your leg broke,” you muttered before nudging him outside. “Now get to working.”

“Yes, my liege,” he curtsied, proceeding then to wring his tattooed hands around your waist, making you hobble like some sort of overtly humped creature. His nose quickly delved into its reserved spot in the crook of your neck. 

“Always smell so good,” hazily, Jungkook muttered and you shook your head at his antics. 

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the one who's constantly trying to dom me by hair pulling.”

“It’s not a dom thing!”

“Sure, baby,” he rasped, planting a wet kiss against your neck. “Whatever you say. Just remember you now owe me three hair pulls in return.”

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[arsensonfire]

𝒏𝒐 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 ?

𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎 !

🪓 ๋࣭ ⭑

ꕀ stu macher x reader

TWs: mental hospitals, abuse, car accidents, stalking implied(?)

you stood sheepishly at the entrance of the woodsboro mental hospital, your bag of belongings held in both your hands in front of you. craning your head around the side of the building, you searched anxiously for stu's car.

you spoke with him yesterday, shocked that he was able to find your number. it was three days after the incident and your second day in the only inpatient hospital that woodsboro happened to offer.

during your scheduled call time, though you were not expecting one from anyone, one of the nurses insisted it was for you when you told them. you took it into your hands and mumbled, ‘hello?’

“hey, (y/n)! heard you got thrown in the nuthouse after what happened to your boyfriend,” stu macher, you recognized his voice instantly.

from who? was your first thought but it was hard to deny that the news of your rumored to be abusive boyfriend was fatally injured in a car accident spread like wildfire.

you gulped and began stuttering when you tried to speak again, “t-thanks, i, uh... appreciate the condolences. why'd you call?” your eyes flickering over to the staff just next to you on the other side of the sheilded desk bar.

"well, that's not very appreciative of you, (y/n)," his tone sarcastically hurt, “i just wanted to see how you were doing. knew things were bad with him but it just ended so poorly, dontcha think?” stu's voice bent, being both taunting and coi with his words.

your chest began to cave, losing control of your breathing pace. “yes,” you insisted, becoming frustrated with the looming psychological torment. “is that all?” voice subtly urging the end of the conversation.

“easy, easy, okay? i just wanted to offer you a ride back home if you needed it.” an audible smile beamed through his clearly honeyed words.

“thanks, but-” the reminder that your parents would still be working flashed across your mind as you started to answer. and you did not about to take the bus back.

“...that would be fine. thank you.” appreciation all too genuine as you cast your eyes down to the floor and looped the cord around your finger. stu was brimming with excitement by the news of his untimely passing, you bet.

it was no question that he was obsessed with you, and while it was suffocating at times, you allowed it most of the time.

having few friends, it was not like you were ever to busy not to fall for his frequent attempts to get you to himself anyway he could. “i leave at two tomorrow.”

“great! tomorrow at two," stu punctuated, all chipper. you prepared for this painstakingly paced conversstion to end already.

"and besides,” he added just after you suspired. “me, personally? i think the fuck had it coming. see ya'then!”

a loud click followed by a continuous beep after left you feeling like stu was keeping a secret, still unable to decipher if he knew what you thought he knew or not.

after what felt like a lifetime, stu arrived in his beige chevrolet caprice, speeding up right beside the curb and halting right in front of you.

he was dressed in his usual attire of an undershirt and a short-sleeve button up, peeling the glasses he was wearing off and smacking gum with a smug expression.

“looking good~” you were already getting in the car, doing your best to keep your eyes forward, looking over at him finally with a polite smile and back ahead again. “don't look,” you begged.

the outfit that you turned yourself in was your lounge wear of a sweater and sweatpants (and they hardly matched, at their wornout and worst). the car pulled forward again, gravitating you towards into the seat from velocity.

“telling me where to put my eyes now?” stu smirked, looking back over at you again. taking in the world from the semi-safer bubble of the hospital, you were taking in the flow of traffic and the sun out the window.

you smiled a bit to yourself, even from your peripheral you could see his baby blues peering out at you. his soft scoffs and titter to himself made you roll your eyes, aware of his annoyance with being ignored.

stu put both hands on the steering wheel, looking back over at you one more time. “sooo, now that you're single...”

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Black Femme Character Dependency Dark Skin Directory || Characters Masterlist Pr. 1 (A-J)

A

Abbie Mills | Adelaide Wilson/Red | Agent 355 | Agura Ibaden | Aleesha Morrison | Alexa Brandt | Alexandra Crane | Allison Sawyer | Amanda Stern | Amari Peters | Amber Bennett | Amie Sammuelson Conde | Amina Ramsey | Amy Bellafonte | Anaya Imanu | Angel Dynamite | Angela Abar | Angela Goddard | Angela Moore | Angela Vaughn | Anissa Pierce | Anita Fthe13th | Annalise Keating | Annie Keller | Annie Pearson | Antigone | Aphasia | April Sexton | Apocalypta | Arabella | Artemis | Ashley Banks |  Ashley Collins | August King | Ava Coleman | Aya Al-Rashid | Ayo | Azima Kandie 

B

Barbara Howard | Becca Palmerstone | Beckett Mariner | Becky | Becky Todd | Bella Crawford | Belle Newman | Betty | Billie the Reaper | Bilquis | Bisma | Blackfire | Bo | Bobbi | Bow Kid | Bree Matthews | Bumblebee

C

Caprice Winters | Carmen Eguiluz | Carol | Carol Lockhart | Carole Clarke | Catherine Halliday | Catty Noir | Celeste Bisme Lyons | Celie Johnson | Chantelle Blades | Charlotte Page | Cherise | Chondra Unkrich | Clash | Claudia Grant | Cleo Sowande | Cleopatra Jones | Cobra | Coffee | Cocoa Cookie | Coco Conners | Coco Monvoisin | Condola Hayes | Conny Spalding | Cressida | Cynthia Rose Adams

D

Daisy Grant | Damita | Dana Mythical Quest | Darli Dagger | Dayna Mellanby | Death of the Endless | Deja Pearson | Delilah Benson | Denise Hayworth | Denise Johnson | Diana Freeman | Doc McStuffins | Doctor Slone | Donna Siren | Donna Meagle 

E

Ela | Elektra Abundance |  Elena Felton | Ella McFair | Elzora | Enchantress | Erin Cortland | Esi Jiwe | Esther Hopkins | Ethel Peabody | Evangeline Williamson | Eve Doll 

F

Fanta | Farah Black | Felicia | Foxxy Love | Fringilla Vigo

G

Genevieve Quik | Georgiana Lambe | Girl 6 | Grace Hitchens | Grace James |  Grace Monroe | Grace Ryder | Grace Sienar | Grace Walker | Grandmother 

H

Hailey Collins | Hallie McDaniel | Hanna Lovecraft | Hannah Grose | Hannah Steale | Harley Hidoko | Harper Bettencourt | Harriet Lennox | Harriet Tubman | Hattie Mitchell | Hazel Levesque | Henriette | Hippolyta Freeman | Holly | Honeybear | Hunter | Hunter B 15 

I

Ikora Rey |  Imane Bakhellal | Imani | Imani Izzi | Indra | Inquisitor Reva | Irene Federic | Iridessa | Iris Watkins | Ironheart | Isis

J

Jack Starbright | Janai | Jane Amphibia | Jane Hayward | Janie Egins | Janine Teagues | Jasmine TD | Jasmine Davis | Jean Peterson | Jennifer Sisko | Jenny Jackson | Jenny Pizza | Jessica Crashing | Jessica Williams | Jill TUA | Jinna | Joana Coelho | Joanna Crawford | Jodie Landon | Jojo Williams | Jolene | Jonelle Abraham | Jordan Armstrong | Jordan Moore | Josie McCoy | Juanita Benson | Judith | Julia Freeman | Juniper Andromeda | Justine Dancer

...

I ran out of time. LOL. I’ma work on it tho...

I got 2 jobs. Sometimes, I’m not gonna have the things I intend to bring.\

If anybody want me to tag them whenever I finish actually making this list, just leave it in the replies and I’ll tag everybody once I finish K-Z characters, hopefully before the month is over. 

[seisho99]

Idk exact vibe but somewhere between the woods by san fermin and tongues and teeth by the crane wives? With maybe a sprinkle of this song https://youtu.be/dme5-Mtg-AM idk

never heard that first one it sounds cool ! tongues & teeth my old comrade i meet 4 lunch once every few years . caprice cast my occasional acquaintance despite the fact i love how it sounds

[tabijozwick]

Banned Books Week 2023

October 1-7, 2023 is Banned Books Week for 2023. During this week, people are encouraged to read books that are challenged or banned from schools and public libraries. Here are some of the banned/challenged books I read in the past.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain This book has been challenged due to racism and offensive language, despite the fact it was published in the 1870s for a story that took place in the 1840s. I believe a lot of people use their presentist thinking as a reason to challenge this book and not take the historical context into consideration. This book, I have read several times, and it is one of my favorites. The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank This book has been challenged because Anne Frank wrote about the changes in her body caused by puberty and her own sexual awaking. I believe she wrote those things because when she started writing her diary, she didn't plan on having it published. It was when she heard of a radio broadcast about collecting diaries after World War II that when she decided to change her focus from just writing for her own personal record for publication. When the diary was first published, her father Otto did not include those entries, but today's editions will have her original diary, her edited diary, and the diary edited by Otto. I have read at least the original edition of the diary and have not read the most recent editions in both print and graphic comic form yet. The True Adventures of Esther the Wonder Pig by Steve Jenkins, Derek Walter, and Caprice Crane  This one, while it's a children's book, it should have its own entry. Esther was adopted by Steve Jenkins and Derek Walter, who was at time, a same sex couple (I do not know if they identify as gay, bisexual, pansexual, or whatever, but I do know Steve had dated at least a woman in the past when he wrote the first memoir about Esther.) Steve's and Derek's relationship at the time (if you follow them on Facebook, you will know that they are now split) was the reason why the book was challenged. It's a good book to read to the kids, especially those who like pigs. Other banned books I read include To Kill a Mockingbird, Slaughterhouse-Five, Cather in the Rye, Bridge to Terabithia, and Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret. Take the time to read a banned book for Banned Books Week.

[spiriteddreams]

i'm rly tired so instead of spamming about how wonderfully each piece is composed like i usually would do, here are my fav tracks lol it's a lot sue me i really enjoy hyv music:

Time to Shine (Arataki Itto Teaser)

The Crane Cries (Shenhe Demo)

Chapter of a New Era (Yun Jin Demo)

Wishes Unspoken (Kamisato Ayato Teaser)

Adtroit Deputy (Kuki Shinobu Demo)

Storm Chaser (Heizou Demo)

Caprice of the Leaves (Collei Demo)

Chant of Nine Bows (Cyno Teaser)

Order of Silence (Cyno Demo)

Nephrite of Deshret (Candace Demo)

Surasthana Fantasia (Nahida Demo)

yea this album had some reallyyyyy great tracks and i'm excited to hear future ones, especially fontaine!!

noooooo hyv dropping the album while i'm in a meeting this is tragic

[neonscandal]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

OMG! I feel like I'm about to reveal way too much of myself here but your question is greatly appreciated. I had to take a minute to really think about this as I forgot every bit of media I’ve ever consumed so I mostly focused on recently consumed media that I could recall in a panic. I'm sure as soon as I post I'll be like "damn, I forgot about X!"

Heaven Albright - Stupid & Contagious by Caprice Crane

This book was so funny to me when I was younger I literally handed out copies of it. Looking back, it’s probably because I immediately identified with her penchant to overthink a situation but she’s also able to finesse even if it is by the seat of her pants. In fact, she only seems to shine when she’s really trying because otherwise she’s doing one embarrassing thing after another. But when it’s time for her to kick it up, she could be in her head about what she’s doing but make it seem effortless and nonchalant. She can be a little shit when she wants to be but she’s filled with great ideas, if she only had the chance to knock one out of the park. At the beginning, she finds herself perpetually down on her luck but she eventually finds her way along and I loved that for her (even if it is bumpy).

Aslan Jade “Ash Lynx” Callenreese – Banana Fish by Akimi Yoshida (anime only)

I am incredibly fond of Ash and, while I want to read the manga for some semblance of closure, I’m still regularly devastated by the anime so I can’t yet. The man is a survivor. He is the grass that grows through cement sidewalk. He tripped over banana fish and never shied away from the task of tracking it down and stopping it at the source, no matter how large the conspiracy got or how much he lost. My heart feels heavy any time I see a Banana Fish edit or any fanart, even the happy ones. He is tough as nails and yet, as soft as an exposed nerve which is really apparent with Eiji’s introduction. I think it showed how, despite what he’d been through and the face he wore to hide its impact on him, he was still incredibly hopeful that he’d one day be loved and accepted by someone sincerely. (side note: yes, I got sad thinking about this.) He was incredibly brave because he had no other choice.

Satoru Gojo – Jujutsu Kaisen by Gege Akutami (manga and anime)

Gojo deserves more grace than some of the JJK fandom gives him, I swear. The man is deeply traumatized from a very young age and puts on a brave (and puckish) face just to keep moving forward. I don’t love him because he’s overpowered but him being overpowered is part of why I love him. He hails from one of the top three jujutsu families and could be a shitstain like Naoya Zenin but he isn’t and I think that’s part of why so many people misinterpret his character. There was a tweet, since deleted, (I think from @bcllamyy) that asserted that the reason why a lot of people assume Gojo is a douchebag is because they can’t imagine being strong and beautiful and not being a garbage human. Gojo is canonically strong and attractive but is a relatively good person. He takes care to save students in hopeless situations and preserve as much of their youth as he can because he didn’t have that growing up. I’ll concede that this isn’t purely altruistic, he has a clear objective in mind in taking these kids under his wing, but that’s about as much as you can expect from someone who didn’t have a proper childhood himself. His power was both feared and coveted by others and it left him incredibly lonely until he found an equal, the one and only person he could have by his side. It’s the take-it-with-a-smile trauma response for me. Heavy is the head and all. Oddly, this is my comfort character rn so things are not going well.

Levi Ackerman – Attack on Titan by Hajime Isayama (manga and anime)

Levi Ackerman refuses to die because he’d have to go back to hell and, quite frankly, most devils don’t know how to properly clean up after themselves. Levi being picked from the gutter and growing to become Humanity’s Strongest Soldier despite his diminutive size and destitute origins is so ironic. Putting his life on the line and fighting for those that condescend to people from where he came from, he carved out every inch in the path to where he is now. This is a man who does not die and carries the weight of his fallen comrades into every battle. While seemingly cold and angry, he is, in very small gestures, shown to be incredibly compassionate and forlorn. I think he just knows that if he thought about the circumstances of those living within the walls or even of those he’s left behind on the battlefield, that he would find no meaning in trying to escape the walls or get out of bed at all.

Hermione Granger – Harry Potter by She Who Must Not Be Named (novels and movie)

Given the author’s penchant to be a shit-eating TERF, it’s hard to admit that this franchise was such a big part of my childhood. I primarily identified with Hermione and her predilection to be an insufferable know-it-all and her tendency to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Considering the author, perhaps she intentionally made Hermione’s creation of Society for the Promotion of Elfish Warfare (SPEW) seem so outlandish and mockable in universe... but that’s beside the point. Hermione, regardless of her social standing in the muggle world, came into the wizarding world at a disadvantage and showed everyone her ass as she bested them time and time again. Not only that but, rather than make herself small after being called a “mudblood”, she continued to soar and was loud and proud about advocating for others who were also disadvantaged. She could be the brightest witch Hogwarts had seen and still be unlikable, bushy hair and all. Despite not being of the wizarding world initially, she made a point to be in the know and was voraciously studious, frequently navigating things better than Harry who came into the wizarding world at the same time with a similar level of working knowledge but largely remained clueless. Baby girl had to drag him through the plot and to the point most of the time.

Tina Belcher - Bob's Burgers

Because same. BIG same. Tina is the mood, the vibe, the moment. Add the rest of the Belcher family to this as well tbh. Tina, like the rest of the Belcher family, is unapologetically her. Regardless of whether freaky friend fiction is the way to go, she unabashedly puts herself out there again and again despite her groan inducing anxiety. She knows she's that girl even when navigating the ups and downs of whatever life (or that B Tammy) throws at her.

Katsuki Bakugo – My Hero Academia by Kohei Horikoshi (manga and anime)

I’m not caught up on the manga yet (so close but so far) but Kacchan’s character has a special place in my heart. I think as the reader, we’re meant to be stymied by him as we view the story through Deku’s lens because Deku lacks the comprehension of a non-biased narrator. Understanding this, I came to love (or maybe pity) his character while reading the manga because, when I was an anime only, I found his abrasiveness toward Deku to be incredibly unpalatable (because it is). However, reading through the manga as slowly as I am, I recognize that they’re both emotionally constipated kids being weaponized by some invisible hand while trying to understand and reframe their connection to one another. Literal children grappling with the burden of being heroes and finding it’s not all it���s cracked up to be while self-actualizing under duress. Casual. Bakugo is fierce, prideful, aggressively loud, and largely dislikable. He shoulders public criticism from adults who don’t bother to understand his dysfunction but continues to press on in the right direction because he’s idealized this for so long and wonders if he's, in fact, deserving or good enough. I think what’s captivating about his character in the manga is that he’s presented as a very static character but he’s slowly being exposed as a more dynamic character in tandem with Deku's (power) evolution.

Dean Winchester – Supernatural

There’s something about a closet nerd himbo who calls his vintage car “baby” that speaks to me. Dean Winchester, very much brawn over brain, maintains a doe-eyed innocence and sense of wonder for the things he missed out on while growing up under the “tough love” of John Winchester and I love that dichotomy. You never get the sense that his unconventional lifestyle bothers him or that he feels he lost out on anything but then you see the bravado falter when he allows himself to enjoy something other than the thrill of a one-night stand. The biggest things that come to mind are when he was like a kid in a candy shop in the bunker having found a place to set up roots and him sleeping easy when he was able to settle down with Lisa. Both always struck me as so sad. I think back to the parts of himself that he hid from Sam (like his time in the halfway house) and for the delight he had to find in small comforts like pie. Family was all Dean knew and he grabbed at it desperately and to his own detriment time and time again.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood - Trigun by Yasuhiro Nightow (anime only)

I love the contradiction of Wolfwood's character. He can, for all intents and purposes, be considered a sinning holy man though he does have morals. I have a soft spot for antiheroes (see: love for Wolverine and Deadpool) though I'm not sure Wolfwood cleanly fits into this classification. He is certainly someone who will do "bad" things to satisfy a "good" goal though. For lack of a better word, his innuendos suggest he's led a less than savory life before becoming a man of the cloth and he is clearly fine with toeing the line when someone is watching. But make no mistake, the ends justify the means when he needs to make a game time decision on what to do. There's a reason that cross is a burden to carry and he's just the man to bear it. At the crux of everything, he has a sympathetic heart and this was the first anime that made me cry.

Nobara Kugisaki– Jujutsu Kaisen by Gege Akutami (manga and anime)

This explanation contains a spoiler for the manga so I put her at the bottom in case you wanted to avoid.Nobara is a refreshing departure from the static nature of a shonen tritagonist. For one, she has zero romantic interest in Itadori nor Fushiguro and I don’t see that changing, especially after their initial introductions. She lets them as time progresses but she carries her own weight and isn’t a damsel in distress relegated to do nothing toward her own rescue. She can independently take down a Special Grade curse (and pull off a black flash) while feeling and looking good doing it. Nobara’s femininity is something she’s vocal about, questioning why kicking ass can’t be feminine, and she safeguards it from antiquated notions from the likes of Mai and Momo. Though hailing from the country where her stubborn individuality stuck out like a sore thumb, she’s unabashedly a material girl and so fiercely confident, she dares anyone to look down their nose at her. I can’t imagine we’ve seen the end of her story since she’s such a vivacious character. Maki also deserves to be on this list but I tried to diversify source material. Plus, a lot of what makes her awesome would be an even bigger spoiler if you’re not caught up.

Looking back on this list, there's a distinct theme of main character energy but also a significant lack of diversity. I realized that some of my favorite pieces of media didn't necessarily have a breakout character in my mind, either. This was such a great exercise, thank you for asking! Who are your favorite characters and why, @elaine2895?

[veryslowreader]

Confessions of a Hater by Caprice Crane

Pretty Little Liars: "Love ShAck, Baby"

[celebritylegsandfeetintights]

Caprice Crane and Tina Louise

See more here

http://celebritylegsandfeetintights.blogspot.com/2019/09/the-celebrity-legs-and-feet-in-tights_6.html

[mickeslibrary]

Steve Jenkins and Derek Walter with Caprice Crane: Esther the Wonder Pig - Changing the World One Heart at a Time. Cover photo by Steve Jenkins and Derek Walter. Cover design by Elizabeth Turner. Grand Central Publishing, USA, 2016.

[arsphotographica]

[ariel-seagull-wings]

SNOW-WHITE-FIRE-RED

(An italian Maiden in the Tower story collected by Giuseppe Pitre and translated by Thomas Frederick Crane)

@princesssarisa @softlytowardthesun @themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @faintingheroine

There was once a king and queen who had no son, and they were always making vows to obtain one; and they promised that if they had a son, or even a daughter, they would maintain two fountains for seven years: one running wine, the other oil. After this vow the queen gave birth to a handsome boy.

As soon as the child was born, the two fountains were erected, and everybody went and took oil and wine. At the end of seven years the fountains began to dry up. An ogress, wishing to collect the drops that still fell from the fountain, went there with a sponge and pitcher. She sopped up the drops with the sponge and then squeezed it in the pitcher. After she had worked so hard to fill this pitcher, the little son of the king, who was playing ball, from caprice threw a ball and broke the pitcher. When the old woman saw this, she said: "Listen. I can do nothing to you, for you are the king's son; but I can bestow upon you an imprecation: May you be unable to marry until you find Snow-white-fire-red!" The cunning child took a piece of paper and wrote down the old woman's words, put it away in a drawer, and said nothing about it. When he was eighteen the king and queen wished him to marry. Then he remembered the old woman's imprecation, took the piece of paper, and said: "Ah! if I do not find Snow-white-fire-red I cannot marry!" When it seemed fit, he took leave of his father and mother, and began his journey entirely alone. Months passed without meeting any one. One evening, night overtook him, tired and discouraged, in a plain in the midst of which was a large house.

At daybreak he saw an ogress coming, frightfully tall and stout, who cried: "Snow-white-fire-red, lower your tresses for me to climb up!" When the prince heard this he took heart, and said: "There she is!" Snow-white-fire-red lowered her tresses, which seemed never to end, and the ogress climbed up by them. The next day the ogress descended, and when the prince saw her depart, he came from under the[Pg 73] tree where he had concealed himself, and cried: "Snow-white-fire-red, lower your tresses for me to climb up!" She, believing it was her mother (for she called the ogress mother), lowered her tresses, and the prince climbed boldly up. When he was up, he said: "Ah! my dear little sister, how I have labored to find you!" And he told her of the old woman's imprecation when he was seven years old.

She gave him some refreshments, and then said: "You see, if the ogress returns and finds you here, she will devour you. Hide yourself." The ogress returned, and the prince concealed himself.

After the ogress had eaten, her daughter gave her wine to drink, and made her drunk. Then she said: "My mother, what must I do to get away from here? Not that I want to go, for I wish to stay with you; but I want to know just out of curiosity. Tell me!" "What you must do to get away from here!" said the ogress. "You must enchant everything that there is here, so that I shall lose time. I shall call, and instead of you, the chair, the cupboard, the chest of drawers, will answer for you. When you do not appear, I will ascend. You must take the seven balls of yarn that I have laid away. When I come and do not find you, I shall pursue you; when you see yourself pursued, throw down the first ball, and then the others. I shall always overtake you until you throw down the last ball."

Her daughter heard all that she said, and remembered it. The next day the ogress went out, and Snow-white-fire-red and the prince did what they had to do. They went about the whole house, saying: "Table, you answer if my mother comes; chairs, answer if my mother comes; chest of drawers, answer if my mother comes;" and so she enchanted the whole house. Then she and the prince departed in such a hurry that they seemed to fly. When the ogress returned, she called: "Snow-white-fire-red, let down your tresses that I may climb up!" The table answered: "Come, come, mother!" She waited a while, and when no one appeared to draw her up, she called again: "Snow-white-fire-red, lower your tresses for me to climb up!" The chair answered: "Come, come, mother!" She waited a while, but no one appeared; then she called again, and the chest of drawers replied: "Come, come, mother!" Meanwhile the lovers were fleeing. When there was nothing left to answer, the ogress cried out: "Treason! treason!" Then she got a ladder and climbed up. When she saw that her daughter and the balls of yarn were gone, she cried: "Ah, wretch! I will drink your blood!" Then she hastened after the fugitives, following their scent. They saw her afar off, and when she saw them, she cried: "Snow-white-fire-red, turn around so that I can see you." (If she had turned around she would have been enchanted.)

When the ogress had nearly overtaken them, Snow-white-fire-red threw down the first ball, and suddenly there arose a lofty mountain. The ogress was not disturbed; she climbed and climbed until she almost overtook the two again. Then Snow-white-fire-red, seeing her near at hand, threw down the second ball, and there suddenly appeared a plain covered with razors and knives. The ogress, all cut and torn, followed after the lovers, dripping with blood.

When Snow-white-fire-red saw her near again, she threw down the third ball, and there arose a terrible river. The ogress threw herself into the river and continued her pursuit, although she was half dead. Then another ball, and there appeared a fountain of vipers, and many other things. At last, dying and worn out, the ogress stopped and cursed Snow-white-fire-red, saying: "The first kiss that the queen gives her son, may the prince forget you!" Then the ogress could stand it no longer, and died in great anguish.

The lovers continued their journey, and came to a town near where the prince lived. He said to Snow-white-fire-red: "You remain here, for you are not provided with proper clothes, and I will go and get what you need, and then you can appear before my father and mother." She consented, and remained.

When the queen beheld her son, she threw herself on him to kiss him. "Mother," said he, "I have made a vow not to allow myself to be kissed." The poor mother was petrified. At night, while he was asleep, his mother, who was dying to kiss him, went and did so. From that moment he forgot all about Snow-white-fire-red.

Let us leave the prince with his mother, and return to the poor girl, who was left in the street without knowing where she was. An old woman met her, and saw the poor girl, as beautiful as the sun, weeping. "What is the matter, my daughter?" "I do not know how I came here!" "My daughter, do not despair; come with me." And she took her to her house. The young girl was deft with her hands, and could work enchantment. She made things, and the old woman sold them, and so they both lived. One day the maiden said to the old woman that she wanted two bits of old cloth from the palace for some work she had to do. The old woman went to the palace, and began to ask for the bits, and said so much that at last she obtained them. Now the old woman had two doves, a male and a female, and with these bits of cloth Snow-white-fire-red dressed the doves so prettily that all who saw them marvelled. The young girl took these doves, and whispered in their ears: "You are the prince, and you are Snow-white-fire-red. The king is at the table, eating; fly and relate all that you have undergone."

While the king, queen, prince, and many others were at the table, the beautiful doves flew in and alighted on the table. "How beautiful you are!" And all were greatly pleased. Then the dove which represented Snow-white-fire-red began: "Do you remember when you were young how your father promised a fountain of oil and one of wine for your birth?" The other dove answered: "Yes, I remember." "Do you remember the old woman whose pitcher of oil you broke? do you remember?" "Yes, I remember." "Do you remember the imprecation she pronounced on you,—that you could not marry until you found Snow-white-fire-red?" "I remember," replied the other dove. In short, the first dove recalled all that had passed, and finally said: "Do you remember how you had the ogress at your heels, and how she cursed you, saying that at your mother's first kiss you must forget Snow-white-fire-red?" When the dove came to the kiss, the prince remembered everything, and the king and queen were astounded at hearing the doves speak.

When they had ended their discourse, the doves made a low bow and flew away. The prince cried: "Ho, there! ho, there! see where those doves go! see where they go!" The servants looked and saw the doves alight on a country house. The prince hastened and entered it, and found Snow-white-fire-red. When he saw her he threw his arms about her neck, exclaiming: "Ah! my sister, how much you have suffered for me!" Straightway they dressed her beautifully and conducted her to the palace. When the queen saw her there, she said: "What a beauty!" Things were soon settled and the lovers were married.

[the-finch-address]

TDY - 🦀 ❄️ and THO - 🤔 🎶 explain at least 5 songs from the playlist

🦀 - A favourite piece of dialogue (The Dog Yard)

"Oh, I see, so you're the little delinquent who took out our phone line, huh?" She scoffs, impatiently tapping a finger against the mug, "Can I ask for a refill or will you burn the place down on your way to the kitchen?" "Havard!" Emily shoots her an expression that says 'watch it', "You leave him alone."

❄️ - Toughest aspect of my WIP (The Dog Yard)

Ohhhh my god the fighting. The fight scenes for sure. I know that's pretty ironic considering the entire wip is about a literal underground fighting ring but let me tell you, my ability to say, "Eh, I'll figure it out later" when starting a new wip far outweighs any other conscious thought.

🤔 - What's the inspiration behind my WIP (The Heir's Odium)

Oh man I genuinely have no idea. I don't often make connections between my wips and outside inspiration, the ideas come and I either act on them or I don't. Obviously, the idea comes from somewhere and is inspired by something, etc, because that's just the way brains work, but I can rarely make the connection myself. The Heir's Odium came to me 10 years ago when my life was going through some heavy changes, so there's really no way to tell what amalgamation of outside sources and life events contributed to its conception haha That being said......... I like dragons, so I wrote a book about dragons.

🎶 - WIP playlist (The Heir's Odium)

This wip, too, has several playlists and all of them are beefy. I haven't taken a fine-tooth comb through any of them since I put the story on hiatus to focus on other wips so I'm not going to link you to a whole playlist, so instead, I'll list the main theme for all 5 characters!

Vestiel: Eight (Sleeping at Last) / The Moon Will Sing (The Crane Wives) I can get away with listing two songs because he's the MC, right?

Both songs look at Vestiel's turbulent relationship with Andi, his pack, and himself. His ability to lead in Andi's shadow, as well as the decisions he makes (and the decisions made for him) play a big part in the plot and overall narration of the story. It's hard to go into details about this one without it turning into a twelve-page essay because I just-- I have so much love in my heart for this character. Honestly. But go check out the songs and they'll speak for themselves.

Andi: Second Chances (Imagine Dragons)

A big part of Andi's character is his guilt. He is shadowed by it, consumed by it for most of the story, but with no way to remedy it without making the situation a thousand times worse he chooses to just ignore it instead and pretend nothing happened in the first place. Obviously, this still makes things a thousand times worse. He figures it out eventually (with the help of both friends and enemies) but it's a bit of a slow-burn redemption.

Caprice: Throne (Saint Mesa)

Being the heir to an empire comes with its obvious perks, but when your own morals begin to conflict with the ruling party (ie. your mom), things can get heated pretty quick. That includes watching your family fall into a rabbit hole and doing everything in your power to not be caught by the ankle and dragged down with them. Throne says a lot about Capri's journey with his own bloodline, and the relationships, choices, and personal growth he makes along the way.

Tupelo: Devil's Resting Place (Laura Marling)

This song, too, is hard to describe without giving too much context. Tupelo has always carried as much responsibility as the leaders of their Pack, and they are careful to never take that for granted, but it's difficult to always do the right thing when you have that much weight on your shoulders. There's a number of actions taken under their name that haunt Tupelo, but nothing keeps them up at night like the thought of inevitable catastrophe becoming a product of their own hands.

Fannar-Haise: Comfort (Julia Jacklin)

Haise is the comfort character of the book, plain and simple. She is the grounding point for the traveling party, the one to keep everyone safe and sane. This effort, of course, carries with it the bad habit of not taking care of herself. She's quick to shrug off the hard times (externally, anyway) and consistently disregards her own troubles. Eventually, she does allow herself to seek (and accept) comfort, but it takes a lot of convincing to get there.

Signe: Cypress Queen (The Last Bison)

Alright, this one's a little harder to explain without giving away too many spoilers. Signe's existence in the book is vital, but she really doesn't show up that often— not until around book three. What little is known about her pertains mostly to her role in the Silence; she is the quiet leader, the one to keep her family (and eventually, Vestiel) afloat and out of trouble, no matter what it takes, but that kind of responsibility doesn't come without its fair share of troubles.

Thank you for the ask I love any excuse to talk about my OCs >:)

[aurivore]

ancient mesopotamian palace cake: a dessert with dates as a primary component (an important food staple back in gil's days, she's found out), one of the few sumerian recipes including measurements for its ingredients, and an item that she's currently holding out towards the king of heroes. ❝ happy valentine's day, gilgameš. this is for you. ❞ the past can be a sensitive subject to some, hakuno knows, but she hopes this gift would bring back nothing but fond memories for the other. (1/2)

...and before he could comment anything about no chocolates despite it being valentine's day or whatever--! ❝ — that too. ❞ she gestures towards a small carton of chocolate milk. (2/2)

“An offering to your King, I see. It is past time that you have given me your due obeisance as my contractor. Command seals alone are far from enough to slake me; you ought to make such reverence a daily endeavor, not merely the occasion for some long-perished saint.”

He’s giving her a hard time (as usual), but nevertheless vouchsafes her gift its due consideration. As he casts the confection a glance, something elusive flashes across the vibrant scarlet of his gaze like the passing effulgence of some eastern star. Having received an innumerable number of oblations beneath his throne and across the farthest yawns of Gaia’s maw, Gilgameš had long grown habituated to the upward libations from his subjects and the finest graces bestowed from the upper regions. This, however, held something of an audacious heartbeat, and he entertained to give ear to its thrum. In essence, it was very her.

A boisterous laugh suddenly erupts from the King with all the majesty and awe of a universe-birthing cosmological event; blithe, booming.

“Hoh! A confectionary from my era? How very bold; you tread on fragile ground with this, mongrel. Know I’ll not judge it lightly.” A golden knife flourishes from his treasury, and Gilgameš slices the cake into the perfect serving upon a plate of lacquered ivory. Observe; quietly does he entertain a taste. “.....Hm.”

Recall it here: the verdant limber of grassy knolls. A lamb is anchored to the shepherd’s crook. The sacred flash of carnelian seared by a limbal ring of moon-drenched sapphire decorously accented by the rich aroma of myrrh and warm butter. There goes the arid rhythm of jeweled horns chiming against craned roofs of kiln-fired brick — a maternal haunt on time’s carcass. Every colonnade is the limb of some resting beast, the setting cup of the eastern horizon a golden vesicle of shorn reeds and ensavaged enamel self-torn from the maw of juvenescence. A simple hermeneutic of a verse underscored in red, cocooned in an esthesis shrine. 

“...Do you comprehend why the date-palm was important in my time?” Listen for a moment as he recounts, moon-child; for he is an ancient man and the moment is warm, and there are times when even the King grows wistful, feeling the too-human pull on the silken string of recollection. This is the hum of the qualia-lyre. “The Age of Gods was an unyielding time in its severity, though the people of Unug never considered that to be hardship, jaded to the whims of both the Gods and the Earth as they were. And in knowing this caprice as their truth, that which withstood the whims of the land and sustained life were held in high significance. The date, which could be stored and preserved beyond its yield, stood as a paradigm of persistence and provision — such so that the dying god Dumuzi came to possess an aspect as the source of date clusters though human will, Amaushumgalanna; even amongst the throes of demise, the date, through storage, endures. Thereby would there persist proof of what remains even in privation; a beacon that could fit in the palm of the human hand.”

Departing from his lecture, Gilgameš takes the lightest sip of the chocolate milk provided, a gustatory sensation that conjures a furrow to his brows. “Though I encourage sacrilege and blasphemy in all their derivatives, the combination of chocolate and milk is something I will not abide. The palace cake, however, was adequate. Therefore, I shall pardon that slight to my person,” he reaches for the dish, “and not object to another slice.”

[synthes]

her flight to fiji was unannounced, startling even for her assistant in spite of her predilections as shown prior. this isn’t unlike her, if ever, her caprice often correlated with a specific lim jaehyun, who has been reported to ‘disappear’ off the radar as well these days. her assistant has been bribed, of course, ensuring that she’s not followed wherever she’s going. publicity stunts often give her the shudders—she’s never the spotlight person, which can be quite contradictory since she’s dating one of the most legible bachelors in their social circles. jaehyun has always had cameras on him, somehow, the wealth he brandishes topped with the way he looks can count as a weapon on its own. and herself? she’s been on the quieter side, smiling on better days, hiding otherwise.

even when she was born into this society, she still hasn’t got used to all the spotlight, opting to hide it if possible. that’s how she’s lived all those years, making people believe that the man she’s been dating—albeit on and off—is available on the market. and she has to admit, he looks good in the lenses of their cameras, these so-called fans of his in the public as they take the candid pictures of him… yes, she indulges in those instagram pictures sometimes, when she is free, scrolling down pages after pages of him. however, she’d like to justify it by how it’s been getting more and more difficult to go out with him with all the obsession, those craning their necks to monitor his every move trouble as some of them belong to the shin corporate’s investigators.

thus, her carefully riding the economy class of this flight. she forwent the korean airlines since they’re mostly oversaturated with those wondering about her, their following her itinerary would be a piece of cake. so, qantas it was, going straight from the business trip in australia to the destination, where he’s been waiting for days. fairly certain that he has been enjoying himself, after all. both of them have always liked vacations, indubitably, leading such busy lives with being the executives in their respective companies… which in itself is the core to their issues, met by disapproval from their parents. and that is why tonight, she disembarks from the plane quietly, still half asleep. on any other occasion, she would never be caught wearing ripped jeans and hoodie, the latter taken from his closet. but this is to disguise herself, if she can even call it as such, and when she exits the airport with her luggage, the rented car approaching her is almost telltale.

he rolls the passenger window down, letting her confirm that she’s not about to enter a stranger’s car. she lets him help with her luggage, loading it into the trunk, before they get into the car. she gives the airport they’re leaving behind a glance to ensure that no one was taking pictures of them or anything. huffing, she pushes her hood down, undoing her hair bun. “why, hello,” she says as he starts driving faster, looking at him almost too affectionately. “i bet you’ve been enjoying all the good vacation time without me… and your fans in seoul were looking for you frantically.” chuckles, then. “still are, supposedly.” she yawns, humming after. “my suite is not that close to yours, i think. same resort, though.” and the sound her stomach is making is slightly too loud for them to hear almost clearly. “and yes, that’s my button telling you to get me something to eat. i took a nap throughout the trip. been a while since we last went here, though… what to eat?” she asks, giving him a look that he’s familiar with. basically the indecisive look when it comes to restaurants—growing up together since middle school, she knows that he certainly understands what kind of decisions he has to make during this type of moment.

ft. @wistfulreality: lim jaehyun.

[the-foxes-fangs]

(that-otome-potato) I was thinking... from your point of view, how would your version of Mitsuhide and his mc handle a huge fight? Like one where she left his palace to go back to Azuchi and wouldn't talk to him? I need to take my mind off of how chapter X ended...

OOoh that’s a good prompt, thank you! 

                                                *＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Her fury was as rare as it was unyielding. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed the icy distance in her eyes until it was too late to assuage it with a simple concession, a kiss, a teasing joke to remind them that even if they didn’t agree they were still on the same side. 

They had just secured a fragile alliance, and she had witnessed the visiting warlord beating his page and simply refused to let it go, damn the consequences.

He couldn’t help respecting her sense of justice even when it was as irritating as the noise of a mouse gnawing at a wall, as it was now.

They had gone back and forth, he countered her every suggestion with a list of reasons why the comfort of a single page was far less vital than the peace of an entire region, treating the conversation as if he was discussing tactics and strategy, trying to talk her out of trouble with potential compromises, not paying enough attention to the hard glitter in her eye.

He had then managed to toss a lit taper into what turned out to be a powder keg, asking “little mouse, why do you care so much?” 

It would stand in his memory among the most spectacular rhetorical failures of his career.

He saw the mottled red flush rise up her throat at the same time that her eyes turned as hard and sharp, her expression as distant as a snowy mountain peak, and just as cold. 

It wasn’t the anger, it was the disappointment with which she looked down on him as she rose stiffly.  

“Why don’t you?” She said, voice as as flat and chilly as a frozen lake. 

He knew better than to let his frustration add wind to the tempest but his own chest was tight at the sight of her, hands in tight fists at her side, stubbornly refusing to listen, refusing to see the larger picture. 

“Perhaps I simply have more important matters to think about than what is, whether you like it or not, a perfectly normal part of the relationship between vassal and lord.” He said, matching the cold in her tone.

“Well don’t let me distract you from such important matters, in that case.” She said, so coldly that it should have withered the flowers on the shelf with frost. 

She stood perfectly still for a moment, before she curled her lip in disgust as she turned away. He had expected that she was simply leaving to cool down, had expected that he would find her in the room she had turned into a workshop upon taking residence in his manor, her usual refuge. 

Until he saw a glimpse of her, bag in hand, and heard her tell a startled maid she was returning to Azuchi. 

He nearly rose to follow her, to go out into the street and tell her that he was sorry, to take her hand, but he pressed his lips together into an angry line and sat drumming his fingers on his desk instead. If she wanted to turn this into a match of wills, so be it. 

He tossed and turned alone in bed, alternating between anger and regret as he felt the cold space where her body should have been. They rarely fought in earnest, which made him feel even more irritated by how he had allowed something so trivial to come to this. He tried to shake off the guilt he felt at the idea of her alone and probably crying. It had been her choice. 

The morning passed as he worked furiously, the entire manor pregnant with tension as the maids and his retainers practically tip-toed around with curious eyes. 

Their devotion to each other and the unified front they presented to the world was unusual enough to have been the subject of gossip in its own right, and now she wasn’t even speaking to him. 

He rose and took his documents in hand and headed to the castle to make his report to Nobunaga. 

She was nowhere to be seen on the way to the Tenshu, which he found irritating in its own right, since it would force him to either go to her with no excuse, or leave things to fester in silence for who knew how long. 

He made his report and waited to be dismissed, grumbling inwardly as Nobunaga studied him with calculating curiousity. 

“Our chatelaine has returned to her residence here. I expect you can explain this turn of events?” He asked, coldly. 

“We had a… minor disagreement, my lord. Too trivial for you to concern yourself with.” Mitsuhide answered glibly. 

“I’ll be the judge of what is and isn’t trivial, Mitsuhide.” Nobunaga responded, adding an amused snort. “Have you taken steps to rectify the situation?” 

“I feel it might be unwise to act hastily.” Mitsuhide said, keeping his smile carefully fixed in place. 

“How unusual it is to see you letting your feelings interfere with your goal.” Nobunaga replied, tapping his fan in the palm of his hand thoughtfully. 

“This is hardly analogous to a political negotiation.” He said, eyes narrowed at Nobunaga’s self-satisfied smile. 

“Is it not? I see two former allies at odds, each waiting for the other to open negotiations. Of course, if I were you, I would simply give the other side every concession, given that you stand to lose nothing but a little face and gain that which you most want.” Nobunaga replied with a shrug. 

“I would gladly do so if the concessions were wholly mine to give.” Mitsuhide countered sharply. 

“Is that all?” Nobunaga asked, with a decisive snap of his fan. “I trust your diplomatic skill implicitly. Do whatever you see fit.” He finished, with a gesture of dismissal. 

Mitsuhide rose to leave, and paused at the library to write a hasty note, passing it to a maid. He plodded out of the castle to wait impatiently on neutral ground.

He saw her coming at last, walking resolutely toward the tea house, dressed gorgeously for the evening’s celebratory banquet, her proud demeanor adding an unusual touch of stateliness to her beauty that set his pulse racing. She nodded at him and sat beside him. 

“This isn’t right.” He said softly, turning ostensibly to adjust her hairpin, to touch her cheek lightly. 

The afternoon sun was soft as it felt across her face and he watched her expression begin to thaw. 

“No, it isn’t.” She said, fixing him with a penetrating gaze.

“I’d never have guessed you were such a devastating tactician.” He said, offering her an honest smile. “But you know exactly how to turn the tables on me.” 

She reached out to take a strand of his hair between her fingers, with a bittersweet smile. “This wasn’t about leverage. I’ve been angry, I’m still a little angry but–” she paused with a sigh. 

“I know that we have very different experiences and ideas, but I’ve always believed that we share the same principles. I can’t just stop caring. I won’t.” She finished, a quaver in her voice. 

He sighed audibly and reached for her hand. “You wouldn’t be the woman I love if you did.” 

She knit her fingers through his and he saw the faint beginning of the gentle smile he knew and loved. “I know it’s not unusual to you, but I just can’t accept it. What’s the use of all this struggling for power if nothing really changes?”

He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer, kissed her forehead tenderly. “I lose sight of that sometimes and I need you by my side to remind me. Perhaps a bit less forcefully, but I’m aware that I can be…” 

She cut him off with a soft laugh. “A condescending jackass?” 

“You’ve made your point, my dear.” He replied, dryly. 

“Well, I’m a jackass too.” She added. “There’s nothing I hate more than feeling powerless, and I took that out on you.” 

She craned her face up to steal a quick kiss with apologetic eyes. He held her chin and bent to kiss her deeply, pleased with the lascivious sigh she gave. 

“If you don’t stop we’re never going to make it to the banquet.” She murmured, as she ran her hand down his collar, brushing the bare skin of his chest. 

“I’ll have to tease you to twice as much later to make you pay.” He whispered, mouth close to her ear, his blood heating with desire at how her breath caught and how she shivered. 

She gave him a hungry glance as he forced himself to draw back, and focused on smoothing her hair and clothes into place. “That had better be a promise.” She said, heat in her lingering gaze. 

“A promise, a threat, whichever you find the most distracting.” He shot back with a wink. “I’m afraid we have to part, but do me a favor and tell that page that I’d like to offer him a position.” He added, as they both rose. 

“Is that a scheme I hear in your alluring voice?” She asked playfully, backing away from him, but holding on to his hand with her fingertips. 

“Why, I can’t believe that you’d accuse me of such a thing!” He answered, feeling the heat rise in his face at her compliment. He strolled toward his manor, turning to wave at her one last time, and put the finishing touches on his plan as he changed into his formal clothes. 

He had spoken to Nobunaga just before the banquet formally commenced, and took his place beside the lord whose alliance they were celebrating, pouring him a cup. 

“That page of yours seems an unfortunate young man,” he said casually, “he looks rather out of place, and at such an important event.” 

The lord scowled and tossed back his drink moodily. “He’s worthless I tell you, an absolutely hopeless idiot, but he’s my wife’s cousin’s son, and I’m stuck with him.” 

Mitsuhide filled his cup again and leaned in conspiratorially. “You could leave him in my service.” He said, and offered the man a knowing smile.

“Now there’s an idea.” The lord answered with a tipsy chuckle. “He’d get he deserves, then, the little bastard.”

 “But I have no one at all to offer as a replacement. How terribly unfortunate.” Mitsuhide said with exaggerated disappointment.

“You shouldn’t offer favors that you can’t deliver upon, Mitsuhide, but I take responsibility for your caprice, as always.” Nobunaga interjected with lordly disdain from the dais. “As a mark of my favor, I’ll send one of my own pages with you. I have no doubt that a man as beneficent and honorable as you will appreciate his talents.” He finished, leaving no doubt that any abuse would be taken as a direct insult. 

“I– I-” the lord stammered, apparently only just realizing that he had been all but directly ordered to take a spy into his service, squirming uncomfortably under the twin smiles of Nobunaga and Mitsuhide. “Thank you, my lord.” He sputtered out at last.

“My lord is eternally wise and generous.” Mitsuhide said, showing the daggers in his smile. 

She had been pouring for Hideyoshi, eavesdropping on the conversation, and she looked up to offer him a dazzlingly bright smile that seemed to set the entire world right.