#key embroidery shoes

[haggishlyhagging]

“By 1900 child mortality was already declining—not because of anything the medical profession had accomplished, but because of general improvements in sanitation and nutrition. Meanwhile the birthrate had dropped to an average of about three and a half; women expected each baby to live and were already taking measures to prevent more than the desired number of pregnancies. From a strictly biological standpoint then, children were beginning to come into their own.

Economic changes too pushed the child into sudden prominence at the turn of the century. Those fabled, pre-industrial children who were "seen, but not heard," were, most of the time, hard at work—weeding, sewing, fetching water and kindling, feeding the animals, watching the baby. Today, a four-year-old who can tie his or her own shoes is impressive. In colonial times, four-year-old girls knitted stockings and mittens and could produce intricate embroidery; at age six they spun wool. A good, industrious little girl was called "Mrs." instead of "Miss" in appreciation of her contribution to the family economy: she was not, strictly speaking, a child.

But when production left the houschold, sweeping away the dozens of chores which had filled the child's day, childhood began to stand out as a distinct and fascinating phase of life. It was as if the late Victorian imagination, still unsettled by Darwin's apes, suddenly looked down and discovered, right at knee-level, the evolutionary missing link. Here was the pristine innocence which adult men romanticized, and of course, here, in miniature, was the future which today's adult men could not hope to enter in person. In the child lay the key to the control of human evolution. Its habits, its pastimes, its companions were no longer trivial matters, but issues of gravest importance to the entire species.

This sudden fascination with the child came at a time in American history when child abuse—in the most literal and physical sense—was becoming an institutional feature of the expanding industrial economy. Near the turn of the century, an estimated 2,250,000 American children under fifteen were full-time laborers—in coal mines, glass factories, textile mills, canning factories, in the cigar industry, and in the homes of the wealthy—in short, wherever cheap and docile labor could be used. There can be no comparison between the conditions of work for a farm child (who was also in most cases a beloved family member) and the conditions of work for industrial child laborers. Four-year-olds worked sixteen-hour days sorting beads or rolling cigars in New York City tenements; five-year-old girls worked the night shift in southern cotton mills.

So long as enough girls can be kept working, and only a few of them faint, the mills are kept going; but when faintings are so many and so frequent that it does not pay to keep going, the mills are closed.

These children grew up hunched and rickety, sometimes blinded by fine work or the intense heat of furnaces, lungs ruined by coal dust or cotton dust—when they grew up at all. Not for them the "century of the child," or childhood in any form:

The golf links lie so near the mill

That almost every day

The laboring children can look out

And see the men at play.

Child labor had its ideological defenders: educational philosophers who extolled the lessons of factory discipline, the Catholic hierarchy which argued that it was a father's patriarchal right to dispose of his children's labor, and of course the mill owners themselves. But for the reform-oriented, middle-class citizen the spectacle of machines tearing at baby flesh, of factories sucking in files of hunched-over children each morning, inspired not only public indignation, but a kind of personal horror. Here was the ultimate "rationalization" contained in the logic of the Market: all members of the family reduced alike to wage slavery, all human relations, including the most ancient and intimate, dissolved in the cash nexus. Who could refute the logic of it? There was no rationale (within the terms of the Market) for supporting idle, dependent children. There were no ties of economic self-interest to preserve the family. Child labor represented a long step toward that ultimate "anti-utopia" which always seemed to be germinating in capitalist development: a world engorged by the Market, a world without love.”

-Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English, For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts’ Advice to Women

#barbara ehrenreich #Deirdre English #child labor #capitalism #patriarchy #amerika #industrial revolution

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Baby punks!

Listen up. I got a few tips and stuff.

1: Thrift everything. I'm not even remotely kidding. You can go MILES with the shit available at thrift stores and only spend like 10 bucks. I go to Goodwill about once a week and I find more than I even really need.

If you wanna make patches but don't have anything to cut up, just buy like 3 pairs of jeans for like 3 dollars and you'll be set up for a while. Cloth, clothes, gadgets, wallets, jackets, even shoes. If you're worried that punk is "expensive", you're not looking in the right places.

2: Five Below. They have really solid fabric paints and stencils you can get. Also check out Joann's and Michael's. They got needles, embroidery floss, fabric paints, fabrics, etc. But be wary about those two, prices are up due to inflation.

3: YouTube tutorials are your friend!! If you're confused about how to do something, take to the web. You won't get all your answers, but you sure will find how to attach a zipper to your pants.

4: Dental floss. This is brought up every time in these discussions because it works. If you need to sew something onto your pants, jacket, whatever, use dental floss. You can snatch some up at CVS. It is very helpful.

5: Find a jacket with wide armpits. Especially if it's denim and especially if you plan on adding zip-off sleeves. ESPECIALLY if you have armpit hair. Just trust me on this.

6: Do you drink soda/beer/other canned beverages? Because if you do, save them. The cans, the tabs, all of it. It can be very useful. The cans, you can turn into spikes. The tabs can be helpful for zippers, chainmail, whatever you might use them for.

7: Believe in what you're saying. Don't just claim you stand for human rights, put it into action. Learn. Understand that some women, black people, and/or other minorities are gonna be hesitant to trust you and understand why. Know when it is your turn to participate in a conversation, and don't force your way into a community or conversation that isn't yours. You're going to be in a strange place where you've been pushed away from all the bigots in your life but can't go to other minority communities because they don't know whether or not you can be trusted. And don't try to make them know that you're "one of the good whites/men/etc". You're gonna need to find community and put weight behind your words. A friend or a relative says something just a little bit off? Don't laugh it off, make them know it was wrong (my go-to is to stare at them in silence the moment they say it and not budge until they repent the comment). Nobody's gonna trust you unless you mean what you say.

8: Don't listen to the gatekeepers. Anybody who tells you "oh well, that's not really punk, you're a poser!" Is missing the point and is hence the real poser.

9: Participate in the culture! Really! Go to playlists, find local bands. Go to a punk show. Make friends, participate in rallies/protests.

10: Be you! Seriously, be you. Whatever you think would look cool or would be comfy, do it. Literally, if you wanna turn a winter coat into a battle jacket, go for it. The key to punk is expression. Don't feel like you've gotta meet up to everyone else's standards. Punk fashion should be a tool to help you find yourself and what you're comfortable in, what you enjoy. If you're doing something to fit in, you're doing it wrong, and you're doing yourself a disservice.

#11: punch a Nazi #punk #punk fashion #punk tips #punk diy #goodwill #diy #rally #protest #dont tolerate intolerance #spiderpunk #crust punk #baby punk #new punk #battle jacket #punk patches #thrifting #down with capitalism

[dracoxsworld]

Shorts - Harry Potter x Reader

MINORS DNI ⚠️ thanks :)

Warnings: Smut, name calling, etc.

a/n: Thank you guys so much for the notes ���� Y’all are so sweet. My writing low key sucks ass but I try my best to write things that I would want to read. I hope y’all enjoy.

Click here for my masterlist

You pull the new shorts you had bought from Hogsmeade and chuckled softly. You had ordered school merchandise that had just been released for students, and you decided to buy a personalized pair of very short and very tight athletic shorts; with an abroidered "Potter" right across the ass, just for your very own boyfriend, Harry Potter himself.

You take them into your dorm's bathroom with you, slip your school skirt down, and step out of it. The material of sht shorts while tight, are very stretchy. You know just from looking at them that your ass will look great. Perfect, even. You slip the shorts on, sliding them up your thighs and over your ass. "Bloody perfect." You say to yourself, turning your body around and looking at your backside in the mirror. You smooth your hand over the "Potter" shown across your ass. "He is going to loose his mind." You laugh softly.

Harry knew you had a surprise for him when he got to your dorm after Quidditch practice, which should've ended about 5 minutes ago. Meaning Harry should arrive any minute. You finally hear your dorm door swing open. "Y/n/n, I'm home! We had tryouts today, this is probably going to be a rough season, just warning ya." Harry calls to you, taking off his muddy shoes after he shuts the door. He sees the bag your shorts had come in. "Baby, did you buy merch? Should've told me! We got tons for Quidditch." Harry says, looking in the bag. "What'd you buy, love?" He asks again, before turning around and seeing you lean on the bathroom doorway. "Oh, just these shorts... Getting hot in my dorm room lately, thought I'd dress appropriately." You said, biting your bottom lip. Harry looked you up and down, (about 5 times) and his jaw was on the floor. "Babygirl. You look, fantastic," He said, "Come here." He demanded, and you happily complied. He took your hand and spun you around so he could see the embroidery. "Fuck" He moaned out, his hand on your ass, squeezing it. You looked back at him over your shoulder. "I hope you like them, baby." You say innocently

"I love them, fuck. But they're coming off." Harry groaned out. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Harry!" You giggle out, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep you from falling too forward. He threw you on the bed and hovered over you. "You drive me fucking crazy, looking like that," Harry grumbles, in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at just the right spots. "Fuck, you're beautiful," Harry says, coming up to your face, and tackling your lips with his. You moan at his words. His hands travel down to your heat, which is already soaked with your juices through the thin fabric of the shorts. You gasp and moan at his fingers just lightly touching you, "Are you wet from my words baby girl?" Harry groaned in your ear. "Well, they're filthy, got to take them off now, eh?" Harry smirks at you, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband, and pulling them off. "No panties, you slut." Harry groans, one hand teasing you, the other snaking up to your throat. "Harry, fuck. Please" You beg "Please what, angel?" He asks mockingly. "Touch me, fuck me, something." You cry. "Very well, pretty girl gets what she wants." Harry undoes his belt, taking his pants off. Then, his boxers. His cock was hard, leaking with precum. You moan at the sight "My eyes are up here, doll." He said, drawing circles around your glistening clit. Your hands grip the sheets in pleasure. Back arching.

Harry hovers back over you, lining up to your entrance. Kissing you roughly, both of you moaning from his cock teasing your slit, he slides in, earning both of you to moan in pleasure. "You always- feel so f-ucking good." Harry grunts as he fucks you, picking up the pace. "Harry, faster." You beg, nails dragging down his back. "Careful what you wish for," Harry says, going faster now. You can see his cock bulging through your lower stomach. "Harry...I'm close," Wrapping your legs around his waist. "Me too, angel." Both of your bodies are covered in sweat, both huffing and trying to catch your breath; you ride your highs. You feel his warm juices in your body, your buddy shutters and you release on his cock. "Fuck, you're brilliant," You say, chest rising and lowering. "You too, with those bloody shorts," Harry says, kissing your earlobe. Your hands intertwined with his hair as he lays on top of you, "I love you, Harry." You whisper in his ear. "I love you more, y/n" He responds.

"I love you the most."

#harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader smut #harry potter series #harry james potter #harry potter fandom

[getluckylana]

need the summer outfit plans pls, your new style is everything, us girls love it!

2024 Early Spring Trend Forecast

This season is going to give toned down coquette on the bodice, Y2K bellow the waist, on the feet, and perched on the shoulder in form of your besties beloved pet cat.

In the next few months your instagram feed will increasingly fill with grown woman sporting sailor themed ensembles. Yes, Like the ones you wore for photo day in pre-school. This is where the toned down coquette comes into play for the season. I also foresee lots of Peter Pan style collars and neck lines. It’s all about the baby doll, and growing up your girlish childhood favorites. Paired with Mary Janes or riding boots. The girls will also be sporting victorian style accessories, like bonnets, bibs and spats.

Prints and colors? Polka dots, rain jacket yellow, pastel and deep shades of purple, green, and blue paired playfully to make a monocromatic masterpiece, sweaters with equestian or floral embroidery, opt for a sheer fabric, nipples and well groomed pubic hair is in, and the fashionable girlies will have it on display.

Children’s wear/Skipper doll/Y2k mix bellow the waist, capri’s are hot, Bubble skirts are hot, vintage cheer skirts are hot, and we still like skirts over pants this year, trade in your Adidas track pants for Adidas track capri’s to be more on trend.

We’ll be incorporating YTK into our bags, and shoes this season. I’ve seen other reports that we will be Jane Birkinfying our bags again, but we already did that. Instead we will be doing insanely fun bags, and shoes strait out of the 2000’s. Check out pic’s bellow for ideas.

Keep but switch it up! “Siren core” glasses are getting tired, dilute them for translucent frames of similar shapes or round frames in any color you want.

Hot Depop sections to browse are “$20 and under” and “elevate your look” but avoid fast fashion brands like Shein ect and opt for vintage pieces made out of higher quality fabrics.

The key to styling every outfit is contrast, if you pick a coquette top, do a simple bottom, and a Y2K shoe or bag. You never want the whole outfit to be one aesthetic it will make you look tacky, and separates a well dressed person from the rest.

[harryscherrypie]

Confessions

CEO!Harry Styles x reader

summary - after a year of friendship, you found yourself having feelings for your quite older friend. Everything changes at his birthday party.

wordcount - 2,7k

warnings - age gap (not much, Harry is 32 and the reader is 25)

a/n - I fucking hate the tumblr tags, this is like the 7th time I'm posting this and it's not showing up in the tags.

This is something like a prequel/sequel to my other CEO harry fic, so for some clarity, please read that one as well, you can find it in my masterlist.

Enjoy, like, and please, please reblog, because it helps the blog very much.

---

Harry’s 32nd birthday was approaching quickly. You have been friends for about a year at this point and you were already sure you were falling in love with him. You thought it would take a bit longer to get over Adam, but Harry had made it very hard. You have thought very hard and long as to what gift you were going to gift him on his birthday but came up with nothing. What can you give to a person who could have anything with the snap of their finger? His seemingly never-ending wallet became quite a problem when picking a gift for him.

After consulting with his friends Mitch and Sarah, as well as your friend Rachel, you decided to dust off your knitting needles and knit him something. You thought about it the first time you started looking into gifts for him, but ultimately decided against it, when you realized that was also something he could get for himself. However, after the talk with your friends, you decided to do it after all. Their supporting smiles gave you enough courage to buy a few balls of chunky yarn, and long knitting needles, and start on Harry’s birthday present.

You remembered it clearly. It was almost 4 months ago when you were at his place for your end-of-a-week dinner. He had just gotten a new apartment because his old one had shitty neighbors. He had bought a new couch for his apartment and spent the whole night complaining about how cold he was, and how he couldn’t find a good-looking, but also cuddly blanket anywhere.

So when you were on your way to buy the yarn, you knew what you were making. You were going to knit him a blanket.

You have been a very creative person since you were a little kid, quickly mastering all of the crafts before you started high school. Embroidery, crochet, knitting, name whatever, and there is almost a 100% chance you had it mastered. Unfortunately, you had to put your hobbies to the back when you started college and didn’t have any time to make things.

The feeling of uncertainty when you pulled the yarn and needles out of the paper bag crashed over you. You haven’t held knitting needles in almost 5 years and suddenly became self-conscious. What if you didn’t make it in time? What if it looked like shit and Harry didn’t like it? These thoughts didn’t last long, because as soon as you started to knit, you fell into the all-familiar calm feeling as you watched your favorite show, and slowly knitted the blanket. Over the next few days, you fell in love with the craft for the second time. At first, you thought one blanket would be enough, but as soon as you finished it, you started on pillowcases for his couch and a large duvet for his king-sized bed.

And just like that, you knitted a full bedding set for his home in just under a week. You packed each of the pieces into separate boxes, tying them with bows of different colors, excited to finally have a present, but also to see his reaction.

The persistent scratches of Daisy’s claws against the door rang through the quiet hallway as you tried your best to slip into Harry’s apartment quietly. His cat was a very perceptive one, knowing you were behind the door before you even made the move to put your spare key into the lock. With your shoes in front of his main door, you walked into the apartment, making beeline for the kitchen and placing his birthday breakfast along with your coffee on the counter.

Daisy, who clearly just woke up, meowed lowly, indicating she was hungry. It was quite a bit past her meal time, but considering Harry came back from Paris just late last night, he was probably too tired to wake up to his cat’s incessant meowing. You put some of her food into her bowl and let her eat in peace, as you started to move Harry’s gifts from the hallway to the living room. You even got a little bouquet of flowers on your way to his place, which you placed in a vase you found in his kitchen.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” you heard Harry’s groggy voice behind you talking to his cat. He was crouched down in front of her, gently stroking her face. She meowed happily and keened into his touch, clearly trying to catch up on the missed affection from the last week.

“She missed you, always kept meowing at the door, and looked super disappointed when I came through the door, and not you,” you chuckled and moved towards them.

“Hi,” he grinned up at you. As Daisy plopped down on her back, playfully scratching at Harry’s hand, you sat down beside Harry, who also sat down on the floor.

“Was she good for you? I know that she gives trouble to people the first time,”

“Don’t worry, she was sweet, I also slept on your couch one night because it started to rain a lot, so I stayed, I hope you don’t mind,” you acted nonchalant, but you felt the opposite.

Before going on his Paris work trip, Harry asked you to take care of his cat. She didn’t like a lot of people and the two of you seemed to get along quite well, from what he had seen. Daisy usually kept to herself, and he would’ve asked Mitch to do it. But he was worried to leave her all alone, mainly because she still wasn’t fully comfortable in the new apartment. It broke his heart a little when he imagined her meowing at the front door the whole week, begging for him to come back to her.

He thought that if you were tasked to take care of her, the two of you liked each other enough for you to stay around the apartment for a little more than Mitch, who Daisy doesn’t really like, and keep the cat company. Even for a little while.

“That’s fine, I’m actually glad you did. Wouldn’t want you driving in bad weather,” he answered.

“When did you come back?” You questioned curiously.

“Today at about 3:20,”

The deep circles around his eyes could’ve told you that themselves. He looked so tired and you almost wanted to send him back to bed. Almost.

“Well, how about we eat breakfast, I got some on the way here, considering today’s date,” you wiggled your eyebrows and stood up, before helping him up as well.

“You shouldn’t have, but thank you, I’m starving,” he grinned and his stomach rumbled as if on cue.

You nodded toward the paper bag on the counter and his eyes lit up.

“Oh you know me so well, this was what I wanted,”

As he started eating his breakfast burrito from an expensive downtown cafe, you sneakily lit up a candle on a cupcake from the same cafe.

“Happy birthday,” you smiled as you revealed the little treat.

“Thank you, darling,” he smiled brightly. This was his first birthday you were spending together, so it put quite a lot of weight on your shoulders because of that.

“I wanted to bake a cake, but I didn’t have much time,” you scratched the back of your neck, suddenly feeling as if you could’ve done more for him on his special day. He shook his head.

“nonsense, this is everything I could ever want, thank you,” he pulled you closer to his chair, and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your stomach.

“Eat the cupcake, so you can open your gifts,” you ruffled his hair and pulled away from him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, you know,” he plopped a piece of the cupcake into his mouth, savoring the taste of the cake.

“But I wanted to, it’s not anything big,” you waved your hand.

“Although it is big in volume, so it might look that way when you see it, I couldn’t package it properly,” you pointed out.

Soon after he had finished eating, you moved to the living room, where he got the first glance at the huge boxes taking up most of the space in front of his living room couch, and gave you a ‘what the fuck’ glance which made you laugh with how comical it was.

“As I said, it is big in volume, doesn’t mean it is big or I spent a lot of money on it,” you shrugged as you plopped down on the couch. He looked at the boxes in front of him, as if contemplating what to do next.

“Which should I start with?” he finally asked. You thought about it for a moment.

“Considering that the original idea of this gift was this,” you nodded towards the second largest box.

“I think you should start with that one,” You pointed toward the one with a sparkly pink bow wrapped around it.

Harry gently raised it from the floor to the couch, and immediately started to work on untying the prettily tied bow.

“No fucking way,” he gasped when he pulled the blanket out of the box, spreading it on his lap. His eyes sparkled with wonder as he ran his fingers along the chunky pattern of the blanket.

“Do you like it?” You asked nervously as you bit on your bottom lip.

“Are you kidding me? I love it,” he grinned and ushered you to come closer to him. You maneuvered around the boxes sitting on the floor and plopped to the space beside him. He didn’t waste any time and immediately wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, tucking his face into your neck.

“You made these?” He asked, his eyes full of wonder.

“Yeah, I dusted off my sloppy knitting skills from high school, turns out I actually still have it in me,” you joked.

“This is one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten, hands down,” he kissed your cheek softly, making your face heat up.

“Open the next one, you can pick the order,” you redirected him to look at the gifts, desperately trying to hide your bashfulness.

He ended up loving all of his gifts, immediately placing them around his home. With his pillows wrapped in soft wool covers, a blanket thrown on the back of his couch, and the duvet placed on his bed, it was time for lunch.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Harry suggested as he sipped on his coffee, watching you play with Daisy.

“Okay, but make it quick, I have to get ready for your party later,” you agreed. You didn’t have anything to do until the start of his party later that evening, at around 7 pm.

You ordered Harry’s favorite Chinese takeout from 3 blocks away. He always whined that the restaurant ruined any other Chinese food for the rest of his life, it was that good. As the two of you waited, the conversation between you flowed naturally. You caught up on how you’ve been, how Daisy acted while he was away, and if you got the photos he sent you when he was away.

It didn’t take long for the Chinese to arrive, and you dived into it, already hungry from the small breakfast you had.

You didn’t stay for very long after that, excusing yourself because you had to get your nails done for the party.

You kissed Harry’s cheek as a goodbye before you slipped out of his apartment, a wide smile playing on your lips

You walked out to the balcony, still hearing the base of the music a wall away. You breathed in the cold February city air as you wrapped your arms around yourself. As much as you liked to celebrate with Harry, this really wasn’t your scene. You scrolled on your phone for a bit, before you were interrupted by the sliding doors opening.

“Hey, why are you out here, aren’t you cold?” Harry called out, his speech slurred with the amount of alcohol he had drunk. He came up towards you and pulled you into a hug, a pitiful attempt to keep you from getting cold.

“Just wanted to take a breather, this is not really my scene, Sarah already made me drink much more than I usually do, so I feel the buzz” you chuckled in your tipsy daze, arms sneaking around his waist.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asked quietly. You only nodded, amused at his drunken slurs.

“It’s not my scene either, I hate clubs, but I never told anyone because I like to see them happy during the party. Birthdays are the only reason to go to a club for them because, and I quote ‘we are too old’, so I let them do this every year and eventually enjoy it when I get enough alcohol in my system,” he whisper shouted, making you grin.

“You are a good friend Harry,” you murmured and tightened your arms around him.

“You think so?” He questioned, head falling to your shoulder, breathing in your scent.

“Yeah, I’ve never met anyone who does so much for their friends,”

“I try,”

“I know,”

You stayed on the balcony for a while longer, swaying to soft imaginary music in your heads, completely disregarding the rough beat just a few steps away from you.

“I missed you this week,” you murmured, squeezing his waist a bit tighter.

“I missed you too, not being able to call you killed me,” he kissed the top of your head.

You looked out to the city, only humming in acknowledgment quickly getting lost in your thoughts.

Today, being all about Harry, made you even more aware of your feelings for him. After your ex-boyfriend, you were determined to wait a few years until your next relationship, wanting to truly get together mentally. But Harry was making it super fucking hard.

“What are you thinking about, hm?” He placed his finger under your chin, making you look at him.

“Nothing, jus’ feelings,” you slurred, getting lost in his touch on your skin.

“Feelings?” He asked, trying to coax something more out of you. Some sort of emotion flashed in his eyes.

“Yeah, they are sort of unwanted, I didn’t want to feel this way for at least a few years, not after Adam,” you murmured looking into his eyes.

Harry shifted on his feet, looking blankly behind you.

“So, who’s the lucky person?” He gritted out. Despite the alcohol running through your veins, you quickly realized that something was wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” you placed a hand on his cheek, making him look at you this time.

He shook his head, stepping away from you with what looked like a sad expression.

“Nothing, I should get back though,” he whispered and turned around to get back inside.

You grasped his wrist.

“I didn’t get to tell you who it was,” you murmured, pulling him in and wrapping your arms around his waist once again.

“Forget it,”

“No!”

“I want to get this off my chest, it has been a few months since I’ve felt this way,” you ran your hands up his chest, making him shiver and gasp lowly.

Looking up at him, you stood on your tip toes, the bottoms of your feet hurting from the uncomfortable heels you were wearing.

“It’s you,” you whispered into the air, hooking your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into the stray hairs at the nape of his neck.

Harry looked at you, eyes full of emotion, as he cradled your face in his palms, thumbs rubbing your cheeks lovingly.

“You mean it? It’s truly me?” He asked, a smile forming on his handsome face.

You couldn’t get any words out, only managing to nod your head repeatedly.

“You warmed your way into my heart, deeper than anyone has ever been,” you sighed, nuzzling your cheek against the palm of his hand.

“I’m glad, I’m so glad,” he breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

“Me too,” you mumbled before you moved closer, connecting your lips in a soft, but long-awaited kiss.

“So what no-” Harry started before he was interrupted by the sound of his name being called by his friends.

You quickly kissed him again.

“Go, we will talk tomorrow, when we are sober,” you smiled and he nodded sheepishly, before he stumbled back inside, making you smile.

---

Lord have mercy on me. I posted this one like 6 times and it didn't show up in the tags so hopefully, this time it works. Please reblog in case it didn't so this gets to people who don't follow my blog.

Thanks, xx

Take care <3

#fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #my writing

[starfxkr]

That ask about the aesthetics was me btw 😭

❣️

OKAY PART TWO MAYBE PART 3 IF I DONT HAVE ENOUGH SPACE

pup is a very earthy, spiritual kinda girly. id say hippie adjacent because shes more neo soul influenced. this is an erykah Badu listener. lots of layers, maki skirts and crocheted pieces. especially crocheted tops. very bright and colorful as well not only just yellows and oranges but teals and peaches as well. obscure artwork graphic tees (look for keith haring apparel for sure) and the che guevara shirt in the 4th pic is kinda perfect and the whole look is her to a T. the bikini top, the cut out skirt and the button up with waist beads and shell necklaces very her. also lots of 70s inspo so look for things like ringer tees, dolphin shorts and high waisted shorts. and graphics of 70s icons in music are also a big part of her look. layers with cardigans and oversized button ups but everything should look worn! diy stuff too with screen printing and tie-dying. shoes are simple with sneakers, Birkenstock-esque sandals and flip flops.

fox is the most...."normcore" of them all. I say she cannot dress and it's true! the key to her wardrobe is to just...go to Walmart LOL. generic graphic tees, long skirts, vintage dresses and tops paired with running shorts, loafers with nike socks, weird sneakers she doesnt care about fashion much but she likes what she likes. also wears lots of button up dresses but pairs them with sheer black tights. thats normally her "school" look. imagine her wearing the last outfit with loafers and nike socks.

lamb reader kinda the most interesting because some of her pieces are inspired from the 1950s. so short sleeved sweaters, henley tops, modest dresses with embroidery details and lots of cardigans. mostly in pastels. crew socks and mary janes are her go to combo and she wears mostly mid length skirts and dresses to start but the hemlines get a little higher as time goes on.

#✨.txt #❣️ anon #puppy!reader #fox!reader #lamb!reader #visuals

[amaribelt]

analysis of NRCs fashion as a fashion student (1)

hello!! if your new here m amari and im a big fashion enthusiast especially with historical garments, im working on my schools fashion show this year n ive been thinking of going into fashion and costuming after highschool. i sew alot becasue its just so fun so this is an analysis of the clothing in twst. any fashion or clothing terminology will be explained unless its something simple like a button hole or a hood or smth silly like that

*this mini series will only cover the main stories as of rn, this post will be broken up into multiple chunks for each respective dorm*

Ceremonial Robes-

so the ceremonial robes are all the same the only thing that changes between dorms is the color of the gem due to each dorm having their own color, other than that the ceremonial robes are all the same apart from malleus who has a cut out for his horns. (as seen below) although i have yet to see any official posts of what exactly is going on with these robes i have found some nice fan posts that i will be using and linking in this post because theres a lot going on in these designs.

the base outfit of the cerimonial robes is a longer button down robe with mandarin collar, a shorter over robe and black pants and heels. the longer robe has a gold embroidering as shown below. NRC is a prestigious school so it makes more scenes to have these robes be embroidered than have that gold detail be something printed on it adds to the fact that this is an elite school and this is a very important cerimony, alot of these kids are rich and talented mages and theirs a reputation to uphold.

the robe warn over the longer robes is lined with the same purple and gold key pattern fabric as the longer robes, the hoods have a gold embroidery on the top as well as a gold colored bias tape edge, the embroidery on the top of the hood is the same on the sleaves, malleus has a slightly edited hood embroidery due to his horns (better seen above) the bottom of the outer vest has more gold embroidery. the sleaves of the outer robe are whats giving me a headace as they look like angel sleeves but angel seams have a extra seam that the cerimonial robes dont have

angle sleeves vs the ceremonial robe sleeves (see the lack of a seam around where the elbow would be)

the long robe has long sleeves with a little bit that goes around the middle finger the long robe has a clearer view of the NRC key pattern thats seen on the hood aswell, i had a better picture but sadly lost it

the pants are just plain black pants that end a little bit above what i think would be the ankle (i never took an anatomy class cut me some slack) but what i find interesting is that most depictions show the ceremonial robes shoes as being some kind of heeled loafer i actually believe they are some sort of boot instead as we never see where the shoe ends and the socks stop with we normally see so i believe them so be some sort of boot that the pants cover, ruggie is often depicted in some heeled boot because if we take a good look at his shoes we see they are ill fitting and are probably a hand me down but seeing how standardized the ceremonial robes are it wouldnt make scene for him to have diffrent shoes so i suspect they all have boots

riddle also has the little loose bit but its more apparent in ruggies witch is why i believe the shoes are boots instead of the commonly depicted heels

Credits (in no perticular order)

riddle robes

ruggie robes

heeled version of shoes

boot version of shoes

angel sleeve picture

malleus hood up (took a screen shot as i dont have that mal card)

malleus ceremonial robes default icon

malleus ceremonial robes in game sprite

ceremonial robes embroidery

riddle in game sprite

riddle default icon

purple ceremonial robes lining fabric

ace ceremonial robes

some of these came from the same place but i liked them multiple times just so yall can find everything

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #malleus draconia #ruggie bucchi #riddle rosehearts #costume analysis #sewing #twst #twst analysis #amari analysis #amari rambles

[ididit-allofit-foryou]

disabled people are beautiful!!!

(image description below the cut--it wouldn't fit in alt text!!)

a drawing of 15 disabled people on a yellow background with a light pink floral pattern. from left to right:

1. a fat white person whose left (their left) arm ends before the elbow. their right arm is on their hip, & they are smiling. they have short red hair, a yellow dress with white flowers, white hoop earrings, and black heels. they also have moles and are blushing.

2. a chubby middle eastern woman wearing a light pink embroidered abaya kaftan style robe and a slightly darker pink hijab. the robe's embroidery is delicate mauve vines around the sleeves, and two matching vines down the front. the woman has a german shepherd service dog with her. the. dog is sitting to the viewers right and has its tongue out, and is wearing a service dog vest. the woman is holding the leash to the dog in her right hand, and has her left hand on her hip. she is wearing pink slippers with a mauve gem on the top.

3. a black, bald, thin, nonbinary person with several facial piercings and earrings standing with their left arm lower than the right, slightly tilted backwards, arms hanging by their sides. they are wearing pink sandals, knee braces, a compression glove and elbow brace on their left arm, & have on blue shorts and a bright pink crop top that says 'FUCK ABLEISTS' (peep that underboob 👀 [side eye emoji]).

4. a chubby south asian woman with white hair and a green striped cane wearing a pale green button up shirt with shoulder pads, dark green corduroy pants, and brown loafers. her posture is tilted a bit from scoliosis.

5. a thin east asian man with a facial deformity that affects his nose and makes his left eye lower than the right. he has wavy pink har that is long on top and short on the sides. he is wearing a white cropped tank top with lace at the neck-line, and loose, flowy green pants. his shoes are white with pink detailing. he is turned so his body faces the viewer's right side, but is looking at the camera with his hands in his pockets.

6. a curvy latine autistic person holding a yellow AAC/speech tablet in front of their chest. they have very long light blue curly hair and freckles, and are smiling with their eyes closed. they are wearing dark blue headphones, a yellow short sleeve shirt, a dark blue romper with bows on the shoulders, and yellow sandals.

7. a curvy disabled bed-bound native american person lying in bed on their side facing the viewer and smiling. they have their left arm folded under their head, & their right arm laying next to heir face. the bed is dark brown with blue and white patterned sheets and a fuzzy purple blanket draped over the person and a corner is touching the ground. the person has tan skin and shaved brown hair.

8. a thin black woman with vitiligo, and wavy lime green hair with baby hairs, smiling in a wheelchair with lime green wheels. she is tilting the wheelchair back in a wheelie position. she is wearing a high-neck, sleeveless, black top with a boob window; light blue skinny jeans; tall, black lace-up boots; and dangly earrings.

9. an east asian man who has dwarfism. he is standing with his left hand on his hip, and his right hand up in a peace sign. he has square glasses and long, blonde, curly hair. he is wearing a black turtle neck, orange pants, and black booties.

10. a tall, curvy, white woman with forearm crutches. she is holding the crutch to her right normally, & is resting her left elbow and knee on the left crutch. her hair is shaved and brown on the right side of her head, and on the left side she has lair down to her chest colored in a rainbow pattern. she is wearing a dress that is pale pink with a pale yellow confetti pattern, pale yellow converse, and blue socks.

11. a drawing of a chubby, blind, south asian man. he has short, flowy, gray hair, black sunglasses, black stud earrings, a green sweater, a long black skirt, brown shoes, a gold key necklace, and a white cane. he has his right hand in front of him holding the cane, and his left hand by his side.

12. a fat black person sitting on the ground. their right elbow is resting on their right knee. their left leg is tucked in front of them on the ground, and their left hand is supporting them. they have short pink locs with the sides of their head shaved. they have a cleft lip scar and some moles on their face. they are wearing a black bra with a sheer long sleeve shirt over it, green shorts, and pink booties.

13. a drawing of a chubby latine man with an afro, mustache, and beard standing with his right arm behind his head. his left arm is holding up the end of a red dress with a deep v-neck to reveal his left leg is a prosthetic. he has chest, armpit, and leg hair, and is wearing gold jewelry and black flats.

14. a drawing of a disabled, curvy middle eastern woman with a feeding tube going from her nose to a bag on a pole. she is wearing a green shirt with a foliage pattern, tan shorts, and black combat boots with purple socks. her hair is also purple, and she has several earrings.

15. a drawing of a chubby native american man on a light blue background. he is using a blue rollator and waving. he is wearing a pink striped vest and vibrant green bell bottoms with pink flowers. his hair is long and blue, and he has three tattoo lines on his chin.

#rain creates #disability #disabled #cripple punk #limb loss #service dog #hypermobility #facial deformity #wheelchair #dwarfism #bed bound #me/cfs #feeding tube #blindness #rollators #crutches #scoliosis #prosthetics #autism #aac device

[bg-brainrot]

Sooooo curious as to your writing process. What is it like ? How do you come up with plot points ? Or how do you decide one idea is better than another ? Where do you find inspiration ? Sorry for so many questions !

Hello Anon! No need to apologize, these are all awesome questions ✨✨ thanks for asking them!

This is going to be a long one, so a quick read more...

I'm actually going to answer them out of order, so I hope you don't mind!

A quick disclaimer: this is just how my brain approaches it, but everyone is different! Also I'm a fanfic writer doing this in my free time, none of this is professional advice or anything so take it with a grain of salt.

Where do you find inspiration?

I am one of those people who cannot stop reading, writing, watching, listening, etc. because if I'm left alone with my thoughts for too long nothing good will come of it lol. So I am constantly, constantly doing something, usually two things if I can (writing and listening to music, working out and reading webtoons, playing games and listening to audio books, playing D&D and doodling, embroidery and watching TV, the list goes on). So, to answer your question: everywhere!

Every thing I do, even if I ended up hated it, is such great inspiration to draw from. If I were to give a few things extra props, I would say D&D is phenomenal experience in putting yourself in various characters shoes and learning how to react, and webtoons are great for tropes/subverting them as well as pacing (both good and bad hah). Edit to add: Anime. I've mentioned I based my fic's arcs on anime arcs and completely forgot to list it-- very key to my inspiration!

Also lots and lots of hobbies and I will always try anything once. I've rock climbed, I've crocheted, I've done pottery, I've lockpicked (for real), I've danced, I've metal worked, I've done martial arts, etc. ADHD helps with this one 😅

Real life experiences are super helpful, but it's kind of harder to pinpoint how those are inspirational, they just kind of are.

How do you come up with plot points?

I think I once vaguely mentioned that writing BG3 fanfic feels like playing solo D&D. And that's basically how I approach plot points!

So rather than like, this happens then this happens, I look at it as if I have a framework of what I would like to happen, with certain beats that need to be met, but then I just kind of let the characters roleplay that out. Sometimes it leads to things I wasn't expecting, sometimes I need to pivot like a DM with an unruly party lol. But, since I'm working with a framework, it's usually really easy to write around the characters' choices.

For the framework itself, I usually just have a vague idea that I try to poke holes into until it turns into something bigger. So like, "reincarnation story" -> how long are they dead? Is that long enough to be impactful? Why do they care about their previous life? In what ways can they pick up from where they left off and in what ways can't they?

I do the same with one-shots to be honest: "proposing to Astarion" -> who would be involved and how? How would Tav's behavior change? How would Astarion interpret that? How would Tav react to him and pivot?

It's just a lot of questions 😂

How do you decide one idea is better than another?

This is kind of tough to do, and not always a conscious choice I'd say, but roughly two factors:

1. Is this true to the character? Which idea am I more likely to go 'oh yes, he would absolutely do that'? And if they both seem equally likely, which idea would lead to the character experiencing more growth or more actual challenge?

2. Do I like it? Honestly, the most important one for someone like me with ADHD. Because if I don't like it, it won't get written lol. If I like two ideas, but one of them is pulling me toward it with half written dialogue and full on scenes playing in my head, I know which one I'll pick every time.

What is your writing process like?

With all of the above said, my writing process is kind of all over the place. But a very, very rough outline, using one of the one-shots rotting in my drafts as an example...

First comes the idea. Ex: 'Tav and Astarion sparring early game'

Then comes a rough framework. Ex: you're sparring with a party member -> Astarion is watching, amused -> you convince him to spar you somehow -> sparring happens -> Astarion is impressed, intrigued

Then usually comes dialogue (though admittedly sometimes this comes first hah), because I like to build around the decisions they make. Ex: "Oh my dear, surely you can do better than that!" -> first thing I wrote for the fic. Kind of sets the mood, the tone.

Then I kind of write whichever scenes either need to be added to help me understand where the story is going or I add the scenes I want to write (knowing that's a dangerous game, since I might lose interest if all the fun is done upfront).

Once I'm done writing, I reread it once for typos, flow issues, inconsistencies and the like. If I read it too many times I start to overanalyze it, so I try to just release it into the world before that happens lol.

A few added steps that don't always happen:

If I get stuck on a scene: I read the sections leading up to it out loud, hoping my mouth will just fill in the rest (works out a lot of the time 😂)

If I don't like the way the dialogue sounds: I put on my best Astarion and Tav accents and act it out. Usually helps me figure it out or at least catch where it's snagging.

If I think something a character does just isn't making sense: 'ugh, that's ridiculous, why would you do that?' -> usually it means I either didn't set the scene up right, didn't give it enough background or context, or I'm not understanding the motivations enough-- all of which I need to go back and flesh out more.

If I don't like what I'm writing anymore: deadly for a brain like mine, really, but I've found ways around it pretty well. First, reread the fic! I usually want to know what happens next and my brain will kick back into high gear. Then listen to a song that evokes the feel I want from the fic. Sometimes I'll listen to it on repeat as I'm driving, doing dishes, playing a game. Like it's infusing into me lol. And if neither of those work, I try to give myself a challenge. Like, write a sentence and see if I can make it fit into the fic -- it doesn't actually need to go into the final version, but the challenge is what gets me up and going.

Anyway! That was a whole lot. I hope some of it was helpful, and most of it made sense hah. Again, thanks so much for the question anon! I love answering these ❤️

#anon #ask #writing process #fic writing #writing advice #sort of? i dont know if my process makes sense for everyone haha

[unfriendlyamazon]

creative talents of the ygos

yugi - fanfiction, fanart (he's not the best at either but he's earnest), also loves a magic act and i've never stopped thinking about the au where he's a drag magician, i think he knows a lot about fashion and modifies his own clothes so he's a fairly skilled sewer

joey - actually really good artist copies pictures of shoes out of magazines probably draws gundams or something obv posts saucy duel monsters fanart (bnf among panther warrior stans), i do want to write him as a sculptor too probably has a lot of fun with any creative endeavor, obsessed with joey loving cooking i think he gets really into it later

tristan - drag (won't elaborate), also plays the guitar (knows at least 3 chords) and sings (badly, but he does it goofy so it works), actually a pretty good dancer, happy homemaker and can cook a whole barbeque pig for his friends

anzu - dance, obvs, she wants to train to be a dancer and is going to school for it, but i think she's also got an eye for fashion and can size anyone up just by looking at them, she's great at makeup and it's makeover city for everyone

ryou - loves making models and painting things, i think likes three dimensional art a lot and probably also sculpts, i could see them getting into metal engraving too, though that might be low key triggering

duke - what can't duke do? they're not a great singer but can do a metal or rock voice really well, loves coming up with concepts for games and collaborating with the artist, loves makeup, probably also modifies their clothes (they're an original), also a drag artist in my head

serenity - i usually picture serenity as a writer, most of the time i give her an academic career so it's probably a lot of academic writing but i think she could get into it in other ways, terrible cook, burns microwave mac n cheese

seto - terrible artist, like can't draw a stick figure bad, but obv he's an amazing coder and i think he would be on neocities making his bewd shrine page, also an eye for fashion and loves being ostentatious with it, i flip flop on whether he can cook or not depending on the au and what i want him to do but i think baking in particular would appeal to him

mai - fashion, makeup, hair, obv, look at her, and i think she's been sewing her own clothes since she skipped out on her parents, her creativity is more sneaky since she's head to be creative a lot in her life, and you'd be amazed at what she can do.... but can't cook worth a damn

isis - not a lot to do in a tomb under the ground for most of your life but i really see her into needlework, embroideries, probably spends a lot of time doing anthropological research into traditional fiber thread art

zigfried - theater, opera, musicals (cannot act, or sing, or sew)

#ygo #headcanons #add your own

[schmergo]

Adaptations of Little Women are so funny to me because nobody knows want to do with the Little Girl Who Dies character. When distilling the plot and characters into all of their key points, it just feels like this: Meg: I want to be a wife and a mother Jo: I want to be a famous writer and explore the world Amy: I want to be an artist or else marry rich, whichever will let me be admired by the most people Little Girl Who Dies: All I want is to see the angels :) Meg: I want a nice pink dress to wear to the party! Jo: I want to wear pants and NOT GO TO THE PARTY Amy: I want to wear Meg's dress and go to the party I'm not invited to Little Girl Who Dies: I don't want to be any trouble, so I am staying home and knitting my own burial shroud! :) Meg: I like the nice, sweet boy next door type Jo: I do NOT like the boy next door Amy: I want whoever has a crush on my sister Little Girl Who Dies: The elderly man next door and I have developed a quiet affinity because I remind him of his daughter who died, probably because I am also about to die :) Meg: I hope I get new shoes for Christmas Jo: I hope I get books for Christmas Amy: I hope I get a 75-piece art kit for Christmas Little Girl Who Dies: I hope I don't get scarlet fever again this Christmas :) Meg: I dream of a small, simple wedding Jo: My only wedding-related dream is to burst into someone's wedding and object, just for the drama of it. Maybe duel the best man. Amy: I want to elope but also have a huge wedding. It's very complex Little Girl Who Dies: I hope my funeral is tasteful :)

Meg: I hate being a nanny Jo: I hate having to look after my ancient jerk of an aunt Amy: I hate going to school Little Girl Who Dies: Yes, I confess that I, too, sometimes struggle with daily tasks! I hate when I try to do a few stitches of embroidery and my heart starts pounding from the exertion and I break out in a cold sweat and the needle becomes too heavy to hold up any longer and I faint. But I do not wish to complain! :) Meg: Wow, I'm so glad we're on this fun family beach vacation together. I'm going to bathe in the sun. Jo: I'm going to skip rocks from the boardwalk and run away from angry people whose boats I hit Amy: I'm going to swim out dangerously far and act like I'm drowning so I can get attention Little Girl Who Dies: I'm going to die for real while everyone's paying attention to Amy :)

#Little women #literature #books #jo march

[prince-kallisto]

Saguaro Outfit Analysis

Wow, I’m so pleasantly surprised at the positive reception to the 1950s analysis I made for Saguaro! I’ll be referencing parts of that post a lot in this outfit analysis, because I think the historical references in Saguaro’s clothes are really important.

Usual disclaimer: I am not an expert on fashion, this is an analysis based on my own knowledge, research, and passion on the subject. If there are any corrections or additions you’d like to make, please let me know! ^_^

Saguaro is depicted to be a “fashionable and cool” man- and he is! He balances out the colors in his outfit very well, it’s clear he cares a lot about his appearance. I mentioned in the 1950s post that Saguaro has an almost outdated style, but he twists it to be contemporary and trendy.

His blouse looks reminiscent of a chef’s uniform due to the buttons and white collar/sleeves, as the uniform is traditionally white. His rolled up sleeves look casual and are the universal signal of a working man. It makes sense because he’s the Home Ec teacher! The vertical pink and yellow stripes give him an old-fashioned look (reminiscent of the 1950s) that looks cute and inviting.

The buttons on his collar may look odd, but it is an actual thing: a button-down collar. This style of collar originated from polo, and the buttons would keep the collar away from the players face. Due to this origin, the button-down collar is the most casual type of collar. But since it keeps the collar down, it gives a dress shirt a crisp yet casual appearance. Like his rolled up sleeves, the button-down collar signifies a working man.

Something I want to note is how he wears his Teacher Tag on his left breast pocket. The ONLY other teacher that wears their teacher tag is Ms. Tyme, who is known as a stricter and serious teacher. I think that this is Saguaro’s way of showing how he wants to be seen as an authority figure. He puts his tag front and center, right over where the heart is believed to be (the heart is more in the center, but it leans toward the left side). He’s very genuine and passionate, but the desire to be taken seriously remains.

His purple suspenders are traditional and conservative, and also holds up his apron. This design choice has to be purposeful, as it is a very unique placement. I mention in my 1950s post that it the ‘masculine’ imagery of suspenders and the ‘feminine’ imagery of an apron shows Saguaro’s internal battle with his insecurities regarding gender roles. Edit: Also GENIUS reblog made me realize that his suspenders are purely for aesthetics from the way they're clipped. Saguaro is just that bitch and i love him even more

The apron, with a cute bow, is held up by the suspenders and also have several cute embroidery patches. A close look at the model shows the stitches on the outside, which makes me think he sewed them on himself. Jigglypuff is another cute and primarily female Pokémon. It’s Japanese name is Purin, which is likely referencing Japanese Crème Pudding. Pineapples (tricky to see unless you're at the right angle) are said to symbolize warmth and hospitality, which is perfect for him!

His pants brings the outfit all together with a deep wine-ish color. This darker color makes me wonder if he wanted to “ground” the cuter elements of his outfit. If it weren’t for his blouse and the apron, his outfit would have an air of ‘brooding’ seriousness, as he puts it.

The shoes were the immediate signal that Saguaro *knows* fashion. Maybe I’m silly for obsessing over his shoes haha, but they are so good. He wears loafers, with a silver buckle is too unique to be a horsebit buckle. Any real-life counterparts I found of his shoes are very high end, reminiscent of Italian brands. Saguaro low-key has the best shoes of the Paldean cast, I find him to be very stylish. He definitely knows what styles he likes considering how specific these shoes are.

Okay, phew. After looking at all of his clothes, let’s talk a bit about the colors. From 1953 to 1957, pale pink was extremely popular in America due to “Mamie” Eisenhower, the First Lady at the time. Pastel green, blue, pink, and yellow were very popular pastel colors at this time, adorning everything from automobiles to kitchens to bathrooms. Saguaro’s blouse, that sports pink and yellow stripes, feels like a references to the 50s and its focus on femininity. The deep red-ish color of his pants is very fascinating to me. It has similarities to a wine color or maroon, but other way, this color is associated with the rich, powerful, sophisticated, and ambitious. The color is serious and demands a level of respect. It’s very timeless, and the deeper red is very different from the youthful and bubbly pink. I feel very confident that this color is one of Saguaro’s ways of trying to be an authoritative figure, while also not pushing it.

Saguaro’s color palette does actually show off how trendy he is. Many fashion designers reference Pantone color reports in their designs, and vice versa. Color of the Year/or season is determined by fashion runways, trends, and social media. In 2022, the color of the year was Very Peri. In 2023, it was Viva Magenta. Looking back at Saguaro’s palette, doesn’t it seem awfully coincidental that he wears similar colors? Now, SV was released in November 2022. But as I mentioned earlier, Pantone chooses colors based of fashion trends. If Saguaro is as fashion forward as I think he is (which he canonically is considered to be) I wouldn’t be surprised if he caught onto certain colors early. That’s part of what makes certain people seem fashionable or trendy. And because of the timelessness of the deep red of his pants, and the vintage colors of his blouse, he can honestly be trendy most of the time because these colors never go out of fashion.

Something I noticed when looking at all the teachers is that Saguaro and Miriam are the only ones who have silver details- all the other teachers (except Hassel, Jacq, and Clavell, which have no details. This is purposeful but I’ll save it for another post. Altho Hass DOES have golden eyes...) have golden details. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, but my theory is that Saguaro and Miriam are both struggling with who they are. Miriam was giving up her dream to be a teacher, Saguaro is battling insecurities- I think it’s significant that they both wear silver. The other teacher have their own struggles too, of course, but it feels like Saguaro and Miriam are battling with who they fundamentally are as a person. Their identities are unknown to themselves, and this is marked with silver.

Overall, I think Saguaro’s fashion is a deliberate balance between “casual and approachable” and “respectable authoritative figure.” It’s also the blend of traditionally masculine and feminine fashion, with the suspenders & loafers vs aprons & bows. It’s such an insane balancing act that seems obvious in hindsight, but i never realized until this analysis. Character designer is so underrated. Am I overthinking Saguaro’s design? Yeah, probably. But all designs are made deliberately, and I think it hit the mark with several of my points. He’s a very complicated character, and I love him so much haha \(//∇//)\

#pokemon saguaro #mr saguaro #teacher saguaro #pokemon sv #analysis post #ive had this in my drafts for so long! it was all because of the pictures lol #in case you cant tell #despite how much i love fashion i am terrible at color names #kallistopost

[anna-neko]

This is such a great visual representation of ✧Our Dynamic✧

Ages ago* I suggested we do a lil lolita meet with a Sanrio theme Here's the results! *unfortunately IRL trolled too hard, so it delayed 'till summer... neither of these outfits is 80°F friendly

my dear friend - fully decked out in My Melody. It is the print on her dress, she made big fluffy ears & bow to match the print, a pink wig to tie it together. Even a cute lil purse shaped like MyMelody's head with a bonus tiny plush charm on it ~♪

Me: channeling Kuromi in spirit. Black and purple. The only actual Kuromi printed is on my socks (last minute replacement at that! OG coord had lavender-and-black striped knee-highs), and a spot of embroidery on the blouse. Pulled my hair into buns (there are giant bows pinned to the back) to suggest her jester-hat ears.

funny enough - ☆STARS☆ was a secondary theme, by accident. Her dress buttons & lace are full of stars. I have shooting-stars hairclips, star charms on my shoes, stars on the purple bow ..... we both have matching stars bracelets too!! Hers is purple, mine is pink (yes, our colors switched)

full shame: for the longest time legit thought Kuromi was a cat? because long [devil] tail and such short ears [hat] ... you know... kitten bullying a lil bunny was her & MyMelody's entire vibe.... so..uhh.... my accessories are cats. Space-cat bracelet, neko-shaped hairclips, cat-head space key necklace*

*to be fair, that one does look like HelloKitty Sanrio logo if it was a key... boy there's a sentence right there!

#disclaimer: contains me #Kuromi #lolita fashion #sweet lolita #sanrio #my melody #plusSize lolita #old school lolita #frills #maxicimam #ロリータファッション #ゴスロリ #クロミ #マイメロディ #gothic lolita #kawaii fashion

[deadhumourist]

Mistletoe and Beskar - Part 2

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader. Mechanic AU.

Rating: M for the series, minors shoo. 

Warnings: Female reader, use of “she” pronoun but no physical description. Kissing, unwarranted touching (not sexual) and the overwhelming need to punch a hoe. 

A/N: It’s the night of the ball! Missed the first part? Link below. 

 A huge thank you to my darling @just-here-for-the-moment for fixing many, many mistakes and generally being the most amazing. 

Author Masterlist

Read Part 1

---

A short elevator ride later you were heading down a hallway that would lead to your room. Din walked in front of you with your luggage, and trailing him, you couldn’t help but admire the stunning art that graced the walls. You didn’t even have pieces like these in your living room, and these were carelessly hidden in hallways. They looked like originals, and you made a mental note to come back later to have a proper look. Din’s pace was fast and purposeful but curiously unhurried - you guessed he was used to covering a lot of distance alone and unaccustomed to waiting for anyone to catch up.

Before long you were standing at an impressive mahogany door. You heard Din slip the key into the lock and twist, then he stood to the side to let you enter.

You waltzed into the space, still deep in thought when something in your eyeline made you stop dead in your tracks. 

“There’s only one bed.” you blurted out. He looked at you, and the bed.

“S’fine, I’ll take the couch.”

With that he simply walked in and left the overnight bags near the wardrobe, then stood upright and stretched his back a little.

He minimised the movement to not attract attention, but you had spent enough time under cars and bent over hoods to know what that stretch meant. Something was pinched or aching. Judging by the smooth, almost automatic motion of the stretch you also guessed this wasn't the first time he was doing this. 

You felt conflicted. It was his weekend away, and you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. More uncomfortable, you thought devilishly, as you remembered his pained look upon seeing the woman he was clearly trying to get away from. 

The suite was lavish. A huge snow-white bed with intricate embroidery adorning it was piled high with Christmas-themed throw pillows and a red velvet throw neatly folded across. 

It created an impressive centrepiece to the luxurious space, decked out in rich, warm colours and textures. It was so inviting you wanted nothing more than to kick your shoes off and bury yourself in the soft, clean linen.

Din’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Just need a quick shower then you can have the bathroom to yourself."

"Okay….." you smiled demurely at him before adding…"Baby". 

As the word left your lips, your chaste smile broke into an exuberant one, showing teeth and an unapologetic sense of humour. You couldn't help it, it was just so fun teasing this quiet, intimidating man. 

He huffed agitatedly, but let it go and opened his bag to retrieve his things. You were enjoying these little barbs that kept him on his toes, and your eyes followed him until he shut the bathroom door. 

With him out of the room, you could feel your shoulders suddenly sagging a little, and you realised that you’d been holding yourself in a stiff upright position for a while. He was a broad and imposing man and unconsciously you had tried to be the woman that matched him in stature. As you heard the soothing sounds of the shower drift out from beneath the bathroom door you busied yourself putting your phone to charge. You wandered over to the thermostat, which you were pleased to note that it had been set to 73F, making it cosy inside the room. 

Taking in your surroundings without a pair of watchful eyes on you, you slowly walked to the sumptuous armchair placed in front of the large windows. Through tall pines crowding the window, you could see it starting to snow again. Soft flakes were drifting down like they had all the time in the world, and you tucked your legs underneath you and just…watched. It was so rare for you to have these quiet moments of peace, and coupled with the beautiful surroundings you felt like you were well and truly transported out of your own life. 

You’re not sure how much time had passed, but you reluctantly got up to unpack your bag. The ornate dresser offered faint hints of pine as you methodically reached for a hanger and returned it with one of your clothing items on it. You were so engrossed that you didn’t hear the shower stopping. 

The last item to be pulled from your bag, sheathed in a special inner bag, was your dress. As you unzipped the cover, the emerald silk slipped through your hands and unfurled until the hem hit the ground. You smiled to yourself and reached for another hanger. You idly wondered what Din would think, having only ever seen you in denim or overalls. When the hanger clicked neatly in place within the closet, you reached for your shoes - the ritual of unpacking for the ball tonight created an anticipation that simmered sweetly in your belly. 

Even if Din had only dragged you along for protection, you felt like tonight was for you. Some small grace that you allowed yourself to have as a reward for putting in so many hours with your nose to the grindstone with no promise of letting up. This kindness of a silk dress, high heels and playing pretend for a night? That was a kindness you were giving into.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that when you spun around to place the shoes on the floor, you face-planted into a warm, damp chest. 

A broad chest that belonged to Din, freshly showered and smelling of soap and cedar woods.

He grabbed your upper arms softly, steadying you, but instead it made your vision swim. You were about a hand’s length from him, close enough to see the appealing smattering of chest hair and the small muscles in his shoulders flex as he moved to steady you.

Suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, you peered at him and brought your palm up to rub the tip of your nose. Your next sentence came out a little more accusatory than it needed to be. 

“You’re so quiet, I didn’t know you were right behind me. Sorry.”

He looked down at you for a long beat and then quietly replied.

“That’s ok.”

As you scampered to the bathroom with your toiletry bag and clothes in hand, it didn’t enter your mind that for you to bump into him, he would have been purposefully standing behind you. You weren’t standing in the walkway. You also missed Din staying in the same spot for a while after the door closed, clenching and unclenching his hands. 

The bathroom door clicked shut, providing a handy barrier against the intrusive thoughts that were suddenly much louder.  

You splashed some water onto your face and grabbed a fluffy white towel, softly dabbing at your forehead and cheeks. Holding it up against your jaw, your eyes found your own in the grand mirror suspended over the ornate basin. You mumbled into the towel.

“This is dumb, get a grip. He’s just the dude from the shop. You work on his car, for chrissakes”

You widened your eyes to yourself in the mirror, mentally asking yourself if you were sure. 

“Yes” you mumbled into the towel. 

The butterflies in your stomach disagreed.

It took a long time showering, shaving and dressing; you hoped that by the time you were done, your body would have returned to its former relaxed state.

You took care applying your makeup, aiming to enhance rather than hide. A subtle sweep of highlighter across the highest part of your cheekbone, an extra layer of mascara for a bit of drama and a very flattering lipstick colour.

The end result looked very different from your plain, minimalist work makeup, you had to admit. 

Critically assessing yourself in the mirror, you smoothed down the already liquid-like dress in an attempt to still the growing nerves again. You squared your shoulders back, taking a deep breath. You finally turned the knob to leave the confines of the bathroom and get out of your own head. 

Stepping outside, you saw him draped onto the large chair on the far end by the window, his back to you, murmuring into his phone. While he normally had a neutral, quiet way of talking, this gentle tone was soothing and you felt like you were intruding on a very private moment. 

“Yeah buddy, only two more sleeps…..great…..she is? 

Be a good boy for aunt Peli, ok? I love you, see you soon you lil Womp rat.”

He chuckled softly when he put the phone down and he stared at it for a moment, cradled in his palm. 

“Um, I’m ready, should we head down?”

Your words burst through the domestic little bubble like plates clattering on a tile floor, but if he was startled, it didn’t show.

As he rose, he turned around and just…stopped.

He was seemingly frozen in place, his eyes raking over your figure, an expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before. His pupils blown out, but his mouth soft, his lips slightly parted, like a long, slow breath was escaping them.

When it didn’t look like he would move, you walked over slowly, like you were trying not to spook a wild animal, and slipped your arm around his, tugging softly.

“Let’s go, big guy.”

You felt something shift. The purposeful, decisive man from earlier was being led out the door on your arm and you were careful not to say anything more, lest it break the threadbare spell that was holding this anomaly together. 

The door quietly clicked shut behind you.

The descent to the ballroom two floors down seemed to last forever. Mirrors reflected the stilted silence back at you, and you stood rocking on your heels, looking anywhere but his face. You already felt like you were on unsteady ground - out of your surroundings and out of character. You were afraid that if you looked at him too closely the bubble would pop and you would just wake up in your own bed, the beautiful fairytale dissipating around you like smoke. 

But you could feel his eyes on you. Like he was seeing you for the first time and couldn’t look away. Every now and then you would catch his right arm slightly lifting, then falling back down. Like the stop-start of a nervous dialogue that you definitely weren’t having.

The lift doors dinged and slid open. You looked up at Din and, nodding, took his hand gently before stepping out. His large palm pressed comfortingly to yours and it felt like that warmth spread up your wrist and into your veins like a pleasant poison you would happily die from.

The doors now fully opened, the full visual of the venue for the night was revealed. 

The ballroom was breathtaking. Gilded walls softly glowed from the dimmed chandeliers, bathing the room in warmth. Giant red Poinsettia arrangements were dotted around the sides, with draped garlands lending a traditional colour scheme and framing the giant Christmas tree at the far end of the hall.

It felt like you had stepped into a movie. You desperately tried to resist the urge to throw your head back and twirl, sending the deep green silk dress cascading round you like the most exquisite whirlpool. Instead you looked back at Din, smiling.

Your heart clenched almost painfully as his lips curled into a soft smile, a small dimple forming on the left. God, he had a dimple? How had you not noticed it before?

Stepping out of the lift, one of Din’s oldest friends made their way over and pulled him in for a hug. Fennec Shand was a vision in all black, and one of the only guests who gleefully defied the Christmas colour palette. 

"Well look who the Mudhorn dragged in. How’ve you been, Mando? " 

Din brought out that appealing dimple again, smiling at her. 

*I've been busy, you know it is with the kid. He never sits still." 

While he was talking, he wound his arm around you while still clasping your fingers, so your arm was behind your back. He pulled you closer to him to make an introduction.

"Nice to meet you, I had no idea Din would be bringing someone." Her eyes were friendly but her eyebrows shot up questioningly, which Din pointedly ignored. You caught a stream of subtext between the two, and frowned slightly. You didn't know what that meant, but you filed it away anyway. 

After some small talk, you milled about, talking to guests who came to greet Din, or people that Greef introduced you both to. The latter beamed like a benevolent millionaire, happy that all his friends were under one roof enjoying the festivities with him.

You were fascinated by these people - they were like a roadmap leading further into Din’s life. Each stop a different story, a tidbit about him that you uncovered and followed, unraveling more as you went along. 

You listened, enraptured, as his friend Boba told you about the time they went sand skiing in Peru and he was about to launch into the punchline when a familiar figure called Din over. The voice was unmistakable.

He looked over to you, and gave you an almost imperceptible nod to stay there and continue the conversation. You squeezed his hand in understanding and then felt his large fingers slip from yours, instantly missing their heat. 

Reluctant to see him go, you let Boba finish the story. You were listening with one ear though. You reminded yourself that this was simply because this was the very reason that Din had asked you to come along - to keep an eye out for him. 

A few minutes ticked by, and at another one of Boba’s tales you burst out laughing, your head moving to the side, eyes closed as you lost yourself in laughter. For a moment it was just you and friends, sharing a fun evening and trading stories. 

But as your eyes opened, your heart stopped. Kraelia had dragged Din under a large sprig of mistletoe that was hanging by the side of the ballroom.

Despite the dreamy surroundings, you felt a familiar fire in your belly - this had you riled up and not in a good way. You thought it was cute when she had put on a petulant little show earlier, but it was time to show her how two played this game. 

You calmly walked over to them, neither of them noticing, deep in conversation. You saw Kraelia lift her glass shakily and take a deep gulp of wine. She set it down and rested both bejeweled hands on his chest. The garish pink nails and ostentatious rings looked out of place on the simple but elegantly cut tuxedo, and you wondered anew how they knew each other. Ran in the same social circles? Goodness knows she had enough money to look that cheap. 

Drawing closer, you could feel the air thicken with tension. You steeled yourself and pushed forward, coming within earshot of the words "fucking coward." She snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him to her. 

Oh no you don't, you thought.

As you approached, Din’s eyes shot up to you, surprise and apprehension darkening them.

Oh I’ll save you, big guy. You just watch this.

You teed up your sweetest smile and exclaimed “My love, there you are. I missed you.”

Kraelia sighed loudly, her arm retracting from Din and retaking its place on his chest. When she whipped around to face you, you could see her mascara had been smudged, and she leveled you with an acidic look. 

"Din, call off your pet. She's interrupting."

You stayed steadfast, not betraying how fast your heart was beating at the glib slight. 

“Kraelia” he growled out a warning. 

You reached out for Din's hand, and once joined with him, you pulled him closer and out of her grip. 

Din’s eyes widened as you smiled up at him impishly.

Then your hands curled his neck and you pressed your lips to his tenderly. What might have started out as a delicious bit of theatre for your rude intruder suddenly fell away and you felt soft. Exposed. It felt real.

Kraelia gave an aggravated shriek and angry footsteps echoed nearby as she moved towards the exit. 

You felt the sharp intake of air where Din’s nose was pressed against your cheek, and then he was slotting his mouth to yours more firmly, deepening the kiss. You felt his arms envelop you and pull you closer so no space separated your bodies. The warmth and feeling of safety made your eyelids flutter closed. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip and a moan caught in your throat at how good he tasted; the sensual push and pull dance of tongues exploring and caressing - scattering those butterflies in your belly again.

You don’t know how many moments passed, but when you pulled away, you reluctantly opened your eyes to see Din staring at you with a mixture of disbelief and some unreadable expression. 

The rest of the night passed in a haze and true to his word, Din didn’t wait too long to usher you back into the lift, your backs to the ballroom.

Everything had changed from the last time you were both in the room. It had only been a few hours but it could have been years. Slipping out of your dress, you changed in the other room, the shuffling of Din pulling some thick blankets and extra pillows from the cupboard the only sound. 

You didn't know what to say or how to say it. He was already tucked in on the couch under blankets when you sat up in bed, piercing the dark quiet with a small voice. 

“Din…there’s space for one more.”

It was quiet for a long beat. Then the warm baritone stole through the silence.

"You sure?"

"Yeah" you said after a while. 

You heard shuffling as he kicked the blankets off him and moved to the bed. Silhouetted in the moonlight, you could make out a strong, masculine body sitting down on the bed and getting under the covers. 

Even though he kept a respectful distance, the additional body heat radiating from him almost immediately lulled you into sleepiness. You closed your eyes and thought about the day you'd had, trying to forget that this gorgeous man was lying so close to you.

Din had no hope of falling asleep. He had almost wished you had let him sleep on the floor. He stared up at the ceiling and willed himself to think of Grogu, of how much he missed his little boy. How Grogu was his and that was all he needed.  In the very deepest recesses of his mind he knew that wasn't really true. He had caused too much pain and broken too many things to deserve any goodness, but a small part of him still yearned for it. Most days. Almost every day. 

He looked over at you. The rhythmic rise and fall of your chest revealed you were falling asleep. His hands were restless, wanting to touch you but not wanting to overstep. With your back turned to him, your arm was slung over your side, the soft flesh exposed in the slotted rays of moonlight.

He reached out carefully and whisper-softly ran his hand down your arm. You felt like a dream. The next moment, you unceremoniously rolled over and right into the hollow of his chest, the arm that was extended out to you, now cradling you. You started snoring loudly. 

Slinging his free arm around you, he carefully pulled you closer to him, so that you were flush with his bare chest. He felt so conflicted; apart from the kiss, which was purely for Kraelia’s benefit, you hadn’t shown any interest in him. He was keenly aware that he was selfishly taking your softness for himself in the dark of night.

His last thought before he drifted off was that he hoped you wouldn't hate him in the morning.

Part 3

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #grogu djarin #mistletoe and beskar

[anastasiamusicalupdates]

Anastasia the Musical Costumes: Anya

Russia

The first costume we see an adult Anya wearing is her iconic Russian coat and skirt. This costume is nearly identical in nearly every production. The main differences between productions are in the wigs, which can differ when it comes to braid placement, waves vs curls vs straight, and shade. Some productions include dirt smudges on Anya’s face. The costume features a brown woven coat, thick belt, patterned skirt, and boots. Underneath, Anya actresses wear a peasant blouse, wool stockings, and striped bloomers. Some scenes feature fingerless gloves.

(Christy Altomare, Broadway)

Learn To Do It

The Russia costume with the coat removed, so we can see the peasant blouse underneath. The exact pattern can sometimes differ, and some productions will use just one garment as a blouse while others will use two layered pieces.

(María Arévalo Saez, Madrid)

Paris Holds the Key to Your Heart

The design for this gown is a white suit-like dress with blue accents. She also wears matching shoes and new jewelry. At this point her hairstyle changes to an updo, either a low bun or roll, with finger waves. Anya also begins wearing brighter red lipstick. The Hartford production had Anya in a completely different pink dress with a more 1920s silhouette, though no pictures exist of this costume.

(Molly Rushing, Broadway)

In a Crowd of Thousands

Here, Anya wears a nightgown/chemise. The exact shimmery pattern can be different between productions. This is the only point in act two that Anya does not wear her updo, instead wearing a long wig with loose curls pulled away from her face.

(Christy Altomare, Broadway)

Pink Ballet Hartford

The original design for this gown was a light pink, flowing dress with short transparent gloves. The original collar gradually got raised over the course of the Hartford production, the only production to ever use this design.

(Christy Altomare, Hartford)

Blue Ballet

When the show moved to Broadway, the gown was designed to reflect the animated film’s ballet dress. Every replica production since has used this design. It is a more structured gown with blue beading and long white gloves.

(Kathryn Boswell, Broadway)

Marketing Post-Ballet OUAD Reprise Coat

When packing after the ballet, Anya has changed into a long purple velvet coat. It is relatively simple, though it has some embroidery over the front buttons. Though the marketing posters show her wearing this dress with a long wavy wig, that wig is never featured in the show and instead the dress is worn with her usual act two updo. The marketing wig looks very similar to the wig worn during In a Crowd of Thousands, however the marketing wig generally had tighter waves rather than loose curls, and it also had a knotted bun in the back.

(Christy Altomare, early marketing for Hartford and Broadway)

Finale

The last outfit Anya wears in the show is her red gown to reflect the royal status she’s come to discover (and will soon reject). Exact embroidery can differ between productions. It is strapless with a wide and low waistline, featuring gold and red decals. The skirt is severely pleated to give the appearance of a split in the front to reveal a red beaded underskirt. It is worn with long white gloves, a large red and gold tiara, matching earrings, and a bracelet. Sometimes it is short enough that Anya’s shoes are visible.

(Victoria Madden, Second National Tour)

Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade

During the parade, the Broadway cast of Anastasia performed Once Upon a December and Anya got a new costume, only ever used for this performance and never in the actual stage show. Anya starts the song in a brown hooded cloak, removed to reveal a pink Russian court dress, pink shoes, and tiara. The hairstyle is the act one braided look, but slightly shorter, more voluminous on top, and with loose curls instead of waves.

(Christy Altomare, Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade)

#anastasia the musical #anya romanov #costumes #anya russia #anya paris holds the key to your heart #anya learn to do it #anya in a crowd of thousands #pink ballet #blue ballet #marketing coat #anya finale #macysdayparade #anastasia broadway #anastasia madrid #anastasia hartford #anastasia second national tour #christy altomare #maría arévalo saez #molly rushing #kathryn boswell #victoria madden

[joy-haver]

Gift Ideas; For the Woman Who is Already In Everything

More well fitting slippers. Size 12.

A better shovel.

Machetes, no plastic on the handles.

Tractional bows, long arrows.

A hunting rifle, ammunition.

A place to shoot them.

Every medicinal native plant.

A baby.

Chickens.

Every edible native plant.

More handmade pottery that has function.

Religious texts.

Books of anarchy, already broken in. Softcover.

A still.

A spinning wheel.

Wood. Always wood.

Clay.

Tall sturdy baskets.

All the many vinegars.

Booze of any kind.

Shoes, Real shoes, The kind that are supportive, That you can maintain and repair, Size 12.

Wool.

Cordage of every kind of cording plant.

Willow wands.

Fiber spun from strings that pluck the song of the birds and the leaves.

Elderberry, dried.

Button down jean dress.

Pockets added on to many things.

A new corset.

A prayer to finally say how I feel about the sun.

A teacher.

Skirts that are long and flowing and cotton and fit me.

Warm wet pussy.

Sourdough bread.

Homemade cheese.

Stillness.

A mind that flows like water and a pen that writes on its own.

A pen that fits my hands.

Pillowcases, cotton.

Kumbucha, low sugar, ginger or cucumber preferred.

A key to the out building where god has locked away the font of grace.

Forgiveness, from within.

To know the means and the does-not-ends.

A ceramic tea kettle that’s strong and subtle.

Supple breasts.

Deer bones.

Animal hide.

A well fit dress.

A swimming hole to kiss you in.

A song that records itself.

A jam session.

A record player.

Records to put in it.

A new hat,

Or an old one.

A Mardi Gras outfit like those men who walk on horses.

An end to everything that the law calls justice.

Justice, the art of making things right.

Love.

Feeling alive.

Your homemade mosquito repellent.

Help pulling privet.

You to learn to sew.

Me to learn to listen.

Us to learn to stretch the day.

A night to sleep under the stars in Coden.

A trip to the country.

A kite to fly.

Stars, bright, peering out of the darkness.

To build a boat and sail the ocean.

Lao Tzu’s hand to hold.

A hug from Le Guin.

A moment at the grave of my MawMaw.

More kinship from my kin.

Found family to finally be more family than acquaintance.

A visit from all of my online friends.

An antique bed frame of solid wood, with four posts and a canopy to hide in.

Long handled pruners, stronger than bodark.

Something to make me sleepy after dark.

Internal temperance.

A tattoo.

Ideas for them.

The perfect stick for an atlatl.

A perfect stick to walk with, never hewn, beaver cut.

The wisdom of the ages.

An anarchy inside of me that comes to be religion.

The ability to accept it.

The ability to stop talking, and just listen.

A nice wooden box to keep all my seeds in.

Wall shelves.

Tall shelves.

Someone to remind me of the woodworking that has left me.

Earthsea, Le guin. Soft cover.

Le guin. Anything. Soft cover.

Knowing how to tell apart all my oaks.

Discernment of my hickories.

Taxonomies of my pine trees.

A watercolor canvas big enough to make my walls a mural, or tapestry.

The concentration to complete it.

Hand pruners, good enough to pass on to my children.

Better speakers for my tv.

A sermon that says all I want the world to be, but does it succinctly, completely, in fullness of being.

A hand carved paddle by which to steer this pirogue.

For you to grow a pumpkin, an old variety.

Embroidery.

Long thin elegant drop earrings.

A necklace that suits me.

Decor that I can love with all my heart and never fills me with emptiness or plastic or loathing.

Your art, framed and completed.

Help installing shelves.

A mulberry tree (native).

Acres, close by.

A good time sleeping at night.

The bones of old Joe cane.

No longer being afraid of parades.

chaung tzu, translated by brook ziporyn.

Chisels.

Planes.

Good rulers.

A knife to skin with.

A knife to flesh with.

Tea diffuser.

The coolest lamp.

Warm light bulbs.

Rewire my house.

Replace the back spigot.

A hide drum.

Sugar free butter scotch candies, bulk order.

A box set of Septimus Heap, by Angie Sage.

Jewelry I actually want, to put in this box.

A planting of river cane.

A dobro, one worth playing.

A slide that fits my hands.

A new bedroom trash can.

Help finishing my chicken coup.

A cowboy hat, old (size 7.5)

A cowboy hat, new (size 7.5)

100 real loofahs to scrub with.

A case to display every nut native to alabama.

A few good seed nuts for each of them.

A matching linen bed spread.

Streaming service log ins.

Repair for my saws.

Every sharp thing.

Someone to sharpen them.

Hand drills like the old men’s old men used.

A real sword. Long, sharp.

A home that you are willing to defend.

No more domination.

No more destruction of the land.

A love for one another.

Your hand.

In my hands.

You to stay here.

You to not move away again and again.

This to be a place.

That we can survive in.

#text post #anarchism #poetry #rose baker #poem #gift #present #birthday