#atypical format
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
kitchentablezines · 29 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Worm: A Wiggly Zine, 2024
Note: This zine can transition between both bound and unbound. The bound format allows this zine to be read like a book, wish distinctive pages. The unbound format allows for this zine to be read continuously as depicted above.
737 notes · View notes
aroaceleovaldez · 1 year ago
Text
obligatory intermittent post once again requesting more people make pjo askblogs. pretty pretty please. they're very fun I promise and askblogs are a dying species. i'm very sad that for like the past 6 years there's usually only been one or two riordanverse askblogs active and I'm one of them.
"but i can't-" there's options! text-based askblogs! illustrated/drawn-response askblogs! cosplay askblogs! voice acting askblogs! combinations of the above! whatever else your heart desires! get funky with it! getting funky with it is really cool!
also do your local askblogs a favor and send them some asks sometimes. here's a list of illustrated pjo askblogs I have curated, and a list of other formats of pjo askblogs. I'm also working on another list of general askblogs so if you have any other askblogs you should tell me about those ones too.
36 notes · View notes
mariocki · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I Miss You, Hugs and Kisses (Drop Dead, Dearest, 1978)
"What is this? What is this? I'm not a suspect, am I?"
"I didn't say that."
"Goddammit, why aren't you doing something? Why aren't you out there looking for the person who did it? Look, look, look. I don't have to be treated in this...this, this manner! I'm not some motorcycle punk you've dragged in off the street! I'm a wealthy man!"
#i miss you hugs and kisses#drop dead dearest#video nasty#blood tw#gore tw#1978#canadian cinema#murray markowitz#elke sommer#donald pilon#chuck shamata#george touliatos#cindy girling#george chuvalo#cec linder#richard m. davidson#migual fernandes#michelle fansett#corinna carlson#linda sorensen#highly atypical entry in the video nasty canon; it's formed more like a tv movie than a horror film‚ a courtroom drama crossed with#a murder mystery (albeit with a couple of minutes of real nastiness‚ which is what landed it on the dpp list). the irony (which is not#unique to this film) is that banning this film ended up giving it a legacy which has kept it alive much longer than it would have otherwise#who'd be seeking out a cheapo canadian killer thriller with a cast of minor b listers if it wasn't immortalised on a list of brain frying#gore flicks? well.. I might have? maybe. idk. but i mainly watched this bc of the video nasty thing and i gotta say it certainly isn't the#worst from the list I've seen. the format is interesting‚ opening on the central murder and then drifting back and forth between the events#leading up to it and the trial it resulted in. the plot is based on a true case (the Peter Demeter case; he's still in Canadian prison but#was presumably p happy with his nuanced portrayal here‚ if he ever saw the film). more melodrama than horror‚ except for those few scenes#of excessive sex and violence. remove those (and they'd be easily trimmed) and this is basically afternoon tv fodder
5 notes · View notes
celepeace · 2 years ago
Text
Genuinely with the death of nintendo handheld low-cost games that came with the switch, as every continuing handheld series became a switch series and thus had a price increase, a lot of their most kid-friendly franchises have become more and more inaccessible to children, especially now that nintendo has decided to follow every other major console and has started pricing new games even higher.
And now that a lot of these series are so old and thus a lot of their fanbase has aged into adulthood, a lot of these series would benefit greatly from making some of the new entries more adult-oriented. But nintendo very stubbornly wants to keep their main franchises as kid-friendly as possible, sometimes severely restricting the potential of these series by not allowing them to explore things like more complex mechanics, higher difficulty, or darker topics that past entries have brushed over in favor of keeping the age rating low. Pokemon's core battle engine has been in want of an overhaul for years now, and Legends Arceus kind of did that but not wholly, for example.
This would be pretty understandable in the interest of keeping every entry of these series accessible to all age groups, but with inflating prices, who are these games even for anymore? A normal kid with your average allowance from their parents isn't going to be able to afford tears of the kingdom or even $60 pokemon games more often than not. Back when these games were $30-$40, sure, if they saved up, but now many families have even tighter budgets than ever due to the rising cost of living. Nintendo is pricing themselves out of their target audience while simultaneously leaving their adult fans who have been with them since childhood to feel neglected in favor of exclusively making games for today's children.
Obviously nintendo will always make sales because even though they make children's games, they're still fun as hell for a person of any age, and many kids will be able to afford their games once in a while, but it does feel like they're kind of... making their games for an audience that barely exists.
7 notes · View notes
dragons-and-yellow-roses · 2 years ago
Text
.
3 notes · View notes
icewindandboringhorror · 2 years ago
Text
Daily Log
Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.
Activities: Badly carved an eye into an avocado pit with a nail cuticle tool thing. trying to think of better designs to carve into avocado pits. I don't really have the right tools, maybe should order some carving tools. I hate buying things online eeeeee..
Worked on translating a poem into Avirrekava (my constructed language for one of my fantasy species) so I can paint it onto a tapestry sort of thing I'm making, kind of in the style of medieval illuminated manuscripts? I do not have paintbrushes small enough.
Spent a lot of time thinking more about the story with an investigator tracking a doctor who's doing strange experiments and they eventually become friends(ish) after trying to kill each other a few times, lol (set in my fantasy world though, so magic is involved, etc. It's just interesting to think about testing the limitations of magic and what type of experimentation people would do, especially if you own a hospital or morgue or other scenario where you have access to bodies, or good cover for hiding them, etc. Plus worldbuilding religions in the world, what their ideas of morality would be, what an "investigator" or police force would even look like in that setting, etc. Two jhevona main characters in a city full of elves and the in-world politics of that, class war and royals, pretentious scholar communities and how they'd operate, actual magic combat between two advanced magic users and what that would look like (mixing illusions or higher level spells with minor brute force tactics, evasion, enchantments, shapeshifting, etc.) etc. etc. ).
Organized some of my plants, but still need to replant some fully. Succulents grow SO fast, I think I'll run out of room. Also one has burnt to a crisp during the heat wave last week.. my son.. ToT.
Edited a few costume photos then gave up because my camera is evil and I always have that thing where it looks really cool in the mirror but then the final photos suck, which demotivates me to even do anything with them/feels like a waste.
Still chronic health issue sick stinky as usual, plus it's still warm inside from the heat a few days ago so being hot makes joint pain worse... evil.. no energy. fell asleep on the floor for like 30 minutes.
Tried a new oreo flavor and ranked it on my comprehensive oreo ranking list. Mediocre as usual, but I'm too far in to give up now gghj.. I have to just try them all. A fool's labor.
Notable sights: found one 6 leaf clover, two 5 leaf clovers, and eleven 4 leaf clovers. Saw a rabbit, 3 cats in windows, and 4 ducks. Also at some point I was squishing gum in my hand and pulling it apart and when stretched out it would make these really cool spindly spider web patterns. The sky later in the day was hazy pink, purple, and blue pastel sunset.
Goals moving forward: Wake up on time even if I feel sick when I wake up!!! Focus on more immediate projects, don't get distracted. Actually make room for investing in social time and replying to people even with minimal energy reserves. Stay consistent with physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, email doctors, edit pictures, post the poll adventure thing that has been sitting in a draft for weeks.
Notable foods: None today, but I have asparagus for later which is exciting... my new favorite vegetable whilst on the stinky Nutritionist Prescribed Special Limited Diet
Tumblr media
#I don't know the point of posting this publicly#maybe just makes it feel more like I'm doing somehting or easier to hold myself accountable making a public declarations#of my goals and progress or etc. lol#Weird blog content I think but then also this IS like.. my personal blog so#. technically I can do whatever. It's just an atypical format of personal post ghgj#ALSO the finding so many clovers thing is cool because just last week I also found one 6 leaf clover and a few 5 leaves and a#ton of 4 leaves. I hadn't found a 6 leaf clover in a few years until literally the past few weeks Iv'e found two of them#The most I've ever gotten is a 7 leaf. Maybe just one?? possibly two but I think just one of them.#so I guess the ultimate goal would be 8 leaf. if that's even plausible.#I don't know what to do with them all though. I put them usually in the book with the rest of my pressed flowers and then#move them into a container once they're dried out. I could make more flower arrangement type things (like gluing dried flowers#to a page in a pattern) out of them like I have a few times. Or use them with the wax seal stamps or something#but I have so many.. IF i OWNED AN ACTUal house or somehting it'd be cool to do like.. a Wall#a clover wall where I just post them up everytime I've collected some. and see if I can fill the whole wall over time#One day ... if I can ever be successful at the Game Of Resources And Capitalism enough to have a modest little#home in like.. Scotland or canada or something... I can finally paint walls and do interesting things#REALLY have always wanted to have a cloud mural on the cieling of a room or etc.#aNYWAY....#any other Clover Hunters out there.. tell me what you've found. the mythical 8 leaf?? or anything idk.#avocado pit carving tips. tell me what you thought about the Black Out Cake oreo flavor. etc. etc. hgjhghjb#daily log
6 notes · View notes
laserandom · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I'm so engrossed in the game "Cyberpunk 2077" that I don't have time to draw at all. I can't stop.
1 note · View note
edwinisms · 6 months ago
Text
btw second chapter’s up if anyone was interested
hi hello if you enjoy psychoanalyzing charles rowland and his bisexuality and his repression and his childhood and the time period he lived in and so on this fic’s gonna be for you. i hope.
(mostly a character study, but payneland is integral and will come up more later, and crystal + charles’ friendship is highlighted throughout)
65 notes · View notes
muzansfangs · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.
Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x f!reader; Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;
Format: short imagines;
Warnings: nsfw, fluff, human/modern au, mention to female nudity, jealousy, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, language, creampie, oral sex (Aizen!receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, choking, spying on a partner, mention to murderous intents, wax play.
Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Sosuke Aizen.
You knew better than messing with him. Your boyfriend and his god complex, along with his mania for having everything under his control could truly be lethal. Quite literally. Yet, you were bored that Friday night. Sosuke was not around and you ended up slumping onto your couch, phone in hand, scrolling through Tik Tok in search for a way to entertain yourself.
You did not really do much, beside chuckling every now and then. Well, that was until you came across a specific trend regarding a thing you were not unfamiliar with. As you watched the way a poor boyfriend freaked out at the thought of his girlfriend getting a brazilian wax from a guy, you could not restrain yourself from testing the waters. Aizen Sosuke, the cold-blooded mastermind you shared a roof with, was going to experience a man’s personal living hell.
It was a monday evening, when he came back from work just to find you laying on your stomach on your shared bed, in a set of black lingerie he had bought for you a few months ago, chuckling to yourself. He furrowed his brows, settling his briefcase onto the armchair beside the window, as he slowly removed his jacket.
His predatory eyes roamed over your curves. He knew you had gone to your monthly wax appointment. He could see your smooth legs and the way your lingerie already showed shaved portions of your nether regions supposed to be covered. If you had opted for such a provocative attire, it could only mean that you wanted to show off your body to him.
“Hello, darling” he greeted you, his trademark grin crossing his lips as he tugged at his black tie to loosen it.
It was hard to keep your play on, as you watched him slowly get ready to devour you. He always took his time, confident that his cold and charming demeanor worked magic on you even before his hands started to trace the curves of your body. It was true, unfortunately. But you had to resist. It was your time to torture him, after all.
“Hey” you whispered, lifting yourself up on your knees as he approached the bed.
He swept his tongue over his bottom lip, his hand cupping your cheek as he stood at the edge of the bed, leaning down to let his mouth collide with yours in a demanding kiss. You could not deny yourself such a treat and you returned it with equal passion, earning a guttural grunt from him.
He did not say much, he sat down next to you and it was a silent signal for you to climb over his lap and straddle him as you always did. He had somehow trained you to have some reactions and do specific things in response to his gestures. Sosuke Aizen surely had his own way to make you bend the knee effortlessly at his silent requests.
As you straddled him, his hand reached up to grasp his glasses and he hastily took them off, discarding them somewhere beside him on the bed without bothering to fold them. It was so atypical of him. He seemed eager to have you that night and you could not help yourself but tease him about it. After all, pouring gasoline on a wild fire was the right thing to do to get him even more eager.
“Damn, are you that eager to see me naked?” you taunted him, as he darted his brown chocolate hues on your again. There it was, his lustful glare that made your knees buckle.
“Actually, I’m eager to fuck you” he deadpanned, his hand landing on your neck and squeezing it enough to keep you in place, as his other hand tugged your thong to the side and he glided the pads of his fingers down your slit.
You gasped, arching your back as he smirked down at you “You’re already dripping… If it’s so easy to get you wet, I wonder how you don’t make a mess on your beautician’s couch while texting me” he joked, drawing figures eight on your bundle of nerves.
There you were, ready to drop the bomb.
As he delved his fingers into your aching core, a strained moan falling from your lips, you glanced at him with an innocent smile on your face, as you made the ground shake under his feet “Oh, I guess I have been lucky today. Can you imagine Robert’s face, if I stained the couch?”.
Congrats, Aizen.exe stopped working.
He froze solid, his fingers were still buried deep into you, but he was not thrusting them in his usual smooth movements that made you squirm. His eyes were locked with yours, a small frown on his face. You genuinely thought you had just given him an heart attack.
“Robert” he repeated flatly, clearly unamused.
It was in moments like this, when he was serious, seraphic, that you feared him the most. Aizen could be dangerous, truly dangerous. The hint of wrath sparkling into his eyes gave you chills and you uncomfortably darted your eyes away from him. The carpet underneath his shoes suddenly seemed particularly interesting.
“Yeah, Robert. The new guy who works for my beautician. You know, he helps her” you stated, you mouth feeling like chalk all of a sudden.
The dry laughter leaving Sosuke’s lips made you shiver and it took you a few seconds to realize you had royally screwed up, because he was so nimble to wrap his hand around your throat again, and pin you to the bed underneath him, that you had not realized your position had switched so suddenly.
“I don’t doubt it. He must have enjoyed the view of your legs spread wide in front of his stupid face. — he chimed, a devious smile curling his lips as he paused to clench his teeth — A stupid face I’ll gladly fuck up tonight. Would you love to see it, love? I could take his heart to you, offering his pulsing, wretched organ to you. I’ll gauge his eyes out of his skull. I’ll squeeze the life out of him—” he hissed, each time the threat becoming similar to the ones the slashers whispered through the phones to their victims in the stupid movies he loved to watch with you, only to feel you curl up next to him on your sofa.
They were hilarious, according to him.
“Aizen, I was fucking joking! Stop! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok!” you quipped, eyes rounded as you cut him off.
Your boyfriend arched his dark eyebrows up, tilting his head to the side and slowly releasing his grip on your neck. He looked almost disappointed. Not towards you. Maybe, he truly wished to kill someone. Because he would kill whoever dared to even glance at you.
His jealousy was skyrocketing.
“I see. — he stated then, before hopping back on his feet and slowly unbuckling his black leather belt — Since you love to use this pretty mouth of yours for talking bullshit, open it to make amend. I’ll obviously come into your mouth, darling. I expect you to swallow” he hissed, gripping your hair and dropping his pants down to his ankles.
Maybe, just maybe, he took a day off from work every month to accompany you to the beauty point. Perhaps, he stalked you down, when you went on your own, because the idea of a random Robert staring and touching your pubes truly made him want to commit a mass murder.
Shunsui Kyoraku.
Shunsui was the perfect victim for this trend. As soon as you ran into that video, you could picture the look of horror on his face as you told him another man had touched you in such an intimate spot. You were simply his. No man could enjoy the sight of you with your legs opened wide to show off your intimacy, no man but him. Eveything was settled and your plan took place two days after you had visited your beautician.
Shunsui had just returned home after a business trip and you had decided to welcome him not only by cooking his favorite dish and buying some extra saké, but by being his personal dessert.
As he ran his hands down your smooth thighs and practically folded you in half, your legs pressed against your chest, you knew that teasing him in the aftermath of such a passionate encounter was going to do numbers on him. His little usual nap was going to wait, after all, because his mind was just about to get pested with horrendous scenarios of a non-existing man exploring his little nest.
“There it is… Look at you, baby, you got such a perfect little hole to fill with my cum” Shunsui panted, his fingers gently spreading your labia as he watched in pride and awe his seed oozing out from you.
You were absolutely drained, your thighs still trembling and your breath irregular as you tried to get a grip of yourself and calm down. Yet, how could you, when the man who had just fucked you to oblivion was Shunsui Kyoraku? He had such a fine way to unravel you that you almost felt guilty for what you were about to say.
Lazily pushing yourself up on your elbows, you hummed and watched Shunsui slump down next to you “Oh, I know. You are definitely not the first man who has ever told me that” you casually commented, sitting up properly and running your fingers through your hair in a futile attempt to fix them.
Shunsui knew about your ex. Even though he was jealous about anyone that was not him, he still did not think of your ex as a ghost from the past threatening your relationship and he actually had no issues in listening to you talking about him. After all, you were his. That man had lost you forever.
“Well, your ex then had his way with words too” your boyfriend stated, a playful smile crossing his lips.
“My ex? Nah, I’m talking about Murata” you replied, laying back down and rolling on your side to face him.
Shunsui Kyoraku, your loving man, was now definitely interested in what you were saying.
Arching his eyebrows up and resting his head on the palm of his hand, he curiously inquired “Who’s Murata? Your gynecologist?”.
You chuckled and shook your head “My what? No, babe, I’m talking about my new beautician’s co-worker. Murata is such an amazing guy, you know? His fingers are so delicate and he applies the wax in a tender way” you lied, sounding as serious as you possibly could.
You swore you had seen his eye twitch, as he grasped your hip drew you closer to him. Your eyes widened as Shunsui’s hand slided down the small of your back and cupped your rear, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Where did this Murata boy put his fingers?” he huskily asked you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as you swallowed thickly. Oh, you knew exactly what was going to happen.
Were you regretting that little stunt you had pulled? Oh, you were for sure.
At your lack of answers, Shunsui sighed and rolled you onto your stomach. His hands gripped your hips and he raised your waist up, until it was at the perfect level with his pelvis. But no, he was not going to claim his domain on your inner walls again. A little punishment was in store fore you.
“Poor little baby, she tries to prank me but cannot even play the part until the very end. Good, that’s good, though” he chuckled, before you parted your lips to let a soft whimper leave them and turn your stomach upside down.
“Shunsui! Babe, I’m sorry! It was a prank! I promise” you piped out, blushing as you hid your face down onto the pillow.
“I’m not having it”.
Spanks it was. But he surely made it up to you later on.
Urahara Kisuke.
Your pervert boyfriend and this trend were a perfect combination for a disaster. It was like throwing powder into a fire. But it sounded like a good idea for you, therefore you persuaded yourself nothing would have gone wrong. Kisuke was not a jealous man. Of course he was protective and a bit territorial, but he never actually made a scene or freaked out, when a man tried to hit on you. He believed you could handle the situation perfectly on your own and, on top of that, if he had to step up and chase the stranger away, he surely avoided violent conflicts.
You two were laying onto your shared bed, Kisuke on top of you, as his mouth was latched onto your throat and his hand was currently between your thighs.
Whimpers and heavy breaths filled the air, while his fingers deftly plunged into you, making your lips part to chant a lewd melody he loved. He knew so many ways of making your knees buck and drag orgasms out of you that it was not a surprise that simply fingering you could make you scream out his name.
“Do you even realize how wet you are? You’ve soaked my whole hand and wrist, you dirty kitten” he cooed in your ear, slowing down the pace he had set a tad bit to enjoy the way your walls clenched onto his slender fingers so tightly.
As he did that, decided to slip his fingers out of you, only to glide them down your folds and enjoying how soft, smooth and slippery they were after the wax appointment you had gone to yesterday.
“So soft, you are so soft, you know?” he teased you, grinning as he took his hat off with his free hand.
Now or never. It was time to drop your bomb.
“Yeah, I know. — you breathed out, glancing up at him and resting the back of your hand over your forehead before letting out a dramatic sigh —I expected you to use some original terms to describe my pussy, though. I mean, Jason used those exact words yesterday. Tsk, I expected you to do better than him” you gingerly said, averting your eyes from him.
Urahara Kisuke went silent. The pads of his fingers glued to your folds, he tried to process what you had just said. A man? Did you mention a man? Additionally, not even a native one, judging by his name, therefore he surely did not know him.
“I’m sorry, who in the holy Soul Society is Jason?” he quizzically asked, tilting his head to the side as he stared at you in utter shock.
“Who?”.
“Jason. Who is this J-A-S-O-N man?” he replied, his eyes dangerously darting onto the lit candle on the night stand.
If his kitten was up for playing with fire, he was going to let you play with it.
“Oh, Jason, right… Well, he waxed me yesterday. He praised my flesh in such a basic way it was hard not to laugh at his face” you replied, pushing yourself up onto your elbows as Kisuke simply hummed and reached for the candle.
At first you got confused, eyebrows knitted together while your eyes followed his moves and the way he began to look at your thighs while licking his lips. It was only then that you remembered how he had wished to try some wax play with you. Eyes widening in shock, you gawked and sat up.
“Kisuke! Baby, wait, wait! I was kidding! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok! I promise, I’ll cut the crap!” you fretted, cupping his cheek in your hand and peppering his face in kisses. You were evidently begging for mercy.
The shop-keeper, however, shrugged and delicately pushed you back down as he smiled at you “Oh, I see! But you now owe me some sex therapy, kitten. Now, let me try some wax play and I’ll eat you up. I’ll make you scream so loud Aizen will hear from Muken!” he taunted you, winning you over with his last joke.
“You are a dork…” you chuckled, slapping his shoulder.
Byakuya Kuchiki.
If someone wanted to get a reaction out of this stolid man it was by messing with you. How did they even think about touching his delicate flower, the woman who had successfully made him smile again after so long? A mad Byakuya was not a problem people wished to deal with and, naturally, you did not want to make blood run down the streets. But it was so tempting, so fun. You could not restrain yourself, right? Your boyfriend needed to experience that little trauma too.
It was a lovely summer night, your boyfriend was still locked up in his office and you decided to pay him a visit. Along with buying some take-away in his favorite restaurant, you were going to deliver him a rather spicy dessert. No one was around anymore. The only sound eachoing down the corridor was the sound of your heels clicking onto the marble floor.
When Byakuya saw you walking past the threshold of his office, he faintly smiled. You were surley a sight to behold, especially in that flowery dress he adored. Running up to him, you threw your arms around your neck and pecked his lips gently.
“I was missing you” you said softly, as he made you sit comfortable onto his lap.
Byakuya hummed and kissed your nape, his arms hugging your waist as he redirected his gaze back on the laptop on his desk. He worked way too much, but how could he not? The Family Company constantly required his attention and assistance. But now you were there, ready to catch his attention with some salty prank.
“How was your day, love?” he asked you softly, typing something on the keyboard.
“Quite good. — you stated, smiling softly — And I got some news. My beautician had called in sick today, I was assisted by her colleague” you absent-mindedly said, not getting much of a reaction out of him. You had been vague, indeed. He had no reason to suspect anything, after all.
“Really? And was his colleague good?” he asked.
“Oh, yes! Really good. I got to say I was put in a rather unusual position, but overall he was professional” you chimed, closing your eyes as you mentally prepared for hellfire to break out.
And it did.
Byakuya cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening even so slightly as he nosed your cheek gently “He?”.
“Yep. I’m talking about Santiago” you casually said, smiling softly.
“Santiago. Mh, I see. — he replied, prompting you stand up, much to your dismay and confusion, but as he grasped the back of your neck and pushed you down onto the empty side of the deak, you squirmed — And was the position he asked you to strike that uncomfortable?” he said calmly, unbuckling his belt with one hand, meanwhile he allowed the other one to hike the skirt of your dress up.
“Y-Yes… You could say so” you meekly replied.
The smack on your rear you received afterwards making you squeak out softly, your foreteeth sinking onto your bottom lip.
Byakuya sighed, lowering his mouth to your ear “You know, baby, when you want to prank someone, you should be careful in not messing up the plan. How was I supposed to fall for that, when you have sent me the link of the video?” he purred, as you gaped in shock.
Your jaw went slack, as reality dawned onto you: so that was why Rangiku had not replied to your video and text ‘check this out, Byakuya is gonna be so mad’.
You had sent it to Byakuya.
“Baby, I’m so, so sorry! It was a cute idea!” you protested, but he had already slipped your panties down your thighs, a soft groan leaving his lips as his fingers glided down your smooth slit, earning a little squirm from you.
“I know. I have a cute idea too. Spread your legs and let me show what I am talking about” he practically commanded.
Gosh, did that make you wet.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! An old draft and promise to some of you that I have finally finished! Thank you so much for having been so patient, I genuinely appreciate your feedback and enthusiasm at times. This was pretty fun to write and definitely a breath of fresh air from all of my other requests. Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreacited!
Until then,
X O X O
TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @cyberdazetragedy @hearrrtfillia @eeeextttt @luccis-coochie @niya12 @juleenbety @moris666 @virette @sillylittlefellas @elijangwifey @han11dh
2K notes · View notes
see-arcane · 1 month ago
Note
I'm reading a dissertation on gender-fluidity in Dracula and how the Harkers especially display androgyny in an atypical non-villainious way (they take a comparative literature approach) and it's very good so far. It's going to talk about their love and challenge the notion that it's heteronormative, according to the abstract, but here's just a few bits from what I've read so far
When Jonathan becomes sick in Budapest, Mina travels across Europe on her own to bring him back. Whereas Jonathan’s journal briefly mimicked the form and content of a Radcliffean heroine’s travel narrative, her narrative never does. As far as narrative decisions go, it is appropriate that her narrative does not take on such a format here, because if anything she is playing the Radcliffean hero to his heroine. As discussed in 3.5, he is, if anything, the party being given away to a spouse by a father. Hawkins suggests to Mina, not to Jonathan, that they may as well marry in Budapest. [...] Jonathan, meanwhile, becomes very emotional, a state associated with Victorian femininity. His anger has him shouting in most conversations with the group, and failing to kill the Count in Carfax Abbey leaves him in a “sublime misery” that had “no place for words” (Stoker 268). [...] Today anger and rage are perhaps the most acceptable emotions for a man to openly display, but by Victorian standards, emotional excess was inherently feminine. A manly response to his situation would have been “[d]isinterested and controlled compassion” (Demirhan 96). The volatility of Jonathan’s mood here speaks to a lack of self-control, which—as discussed—was one of the core tenets of Victorian masculinity. On the other hand, Mina is obviously shaken and upset, but she consistently makes a great effort not to be overwhelmed by her feelings (Stoker 269). [...] When it becomes evident that he cannot leave, he instead wishes he had “a gun or some lethal weapon” (Stoker 51). When he realizes that Mina cannot stay, he pre-emptively grants the wish that was never granted to him. [...] Finally, it is worth noting that he seems more than comfortable with her wielding a deadly—and undeniably somewhat phallic—weapon. Whereas the phallicized women of The Great God Pan and The Beetle, and the vampire women elsewhere in the novel, inspire fear, Jonathan is entirely comfortable with Mina armed.
Ohhhh this is fantastic! Who is the writer? Is there a link where folks can go read the dissertation?
93 notes · View notes
witchofthesouls · 8 months ago
Text
I like thinking about humans-into-Cybertronians because of the weird, alien fuckery along with ex-humans making connections to certain things because it's the closest approximation they have.
Imagine if 'running on fumes' is a literal statement among Cybertronians. As their tanks run near empty, there's a petroleum-like taste that lingers in their sinuses and, if left long enough, cycles out of their vents. That's why Cybertronians typically don't like hanging around gas stations because it's a really stark reminder of long-term starvation. Meanwhile, you got an ex-human going like, "Man, I'm starting to taste gas, so I need gas. Huh, y'all have built-in reminders to feed yourself outside of hunger pains? That's neat."
As well as the ex-humans misdiagnosing themselves. Let's take Cybertronian carriage. Humans are used to a pregnancy that completes its course in a designated organ (aka womb), so finding out a mecha had straight up knocked them up that bypassed the initial spark-to-spark teether formation wouldn't freak them out in the ways that a lot of Cybertronians would be really concerned about. Especially the medics and said partner(s).
Ex-human crying over the sonogram because they got told it's a very high-risk pregnancy and all they see is the coming baby is very deformed since it's only a ball within a ball of green soup and silver tendrils. Partner is highly confused yet attempts comforting in varying levels of success.
Cybertronian medic needs to explain that the sparklet is healthy, but ex-human really needs to watch themselves because the entire process will be done within the gestational chamber and goes deep into explaining the complications that can happen.
Partner is absolutely riveted by all the gravity of the matter since the strain of having a full-carriage that initialized in the chamber can put the carrier in danger as there can be coding conflicting with priorities that rends said carrier unconscious or wrecks health complications, especially since there's a high-chance of the newspark not fully detaching from their carrier's spark as the dropping process ensures.
Ex-human that comes from a species where a pregnancy is like getting into a moderate crash, so damage varies each time is happy that they haven't fucked up badly yet and can plan a baby shower. "By the way, when's the due date?"
Medic: "Hard to say with the carriage combined, but it's more in the primary initialization stage. The sparklet's still has a visible, if a bit thin, teether to your spark, and a solid mass hasn't formed yet."
Ex-human: "Okay, so how long?"Medic says incomprehensible length of time for an Earth child and how it can vary.
*Confused ex-human noises over the several human lifetimes is the equivalent of a span to a Cybertronian carriage. And how multiple factors can impact the timeframe.*
*Confused Medic noises out of sheer concern over ex-human's family history, especially over the fact they have extremely and highly dangerously short carriages.*
*Confused partner noises on why their love wants to plan a bathtime for the newspark at this moment, and wonders if ex-human knows that water and infant Cybertronians do not mix.*
Or, another thing. What if the dropping process where the sparklet detaches from the carrier's spark to descend into the gestational chamber below to build its frame has very 'classic'** heart symptoms in a human body?
(** Quick heads up, much of human biology and modern medical understanding derives from male biology. Unfortunately, women usually see atypical symptoms that are more subtle, moderate rather than severe pain/discomfort, or pain in other other locations rather than the chest.)
Ex-human has sudden, excruciatingly chest pain, insides literally quivering and shifting in sync with the bursts. Meanwhile, everyone around them is calm, trying to soothe them, and they think they're honestly dying so fast because there's no rush to the nearby hospital, and everyone is pushing comfort-it's okay-we got you at them.
302 notes · View notes
kitchentablezines · 29 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Top of Teru's Head, 2024
Note: Above shows the intended layout of the zine. The actual layout is shown below.
Tumblr media
21 notes · View notes
historyinclusionist · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
History Inclusionist
An "Inclusionist" who believes that identities which are 1) shown to be supported in the community's history 2) are harmless personal identities that don't pose harm to others are valid and should be included in their communities.
Overall:
"History Inclusionism" refers to being inclusive of personal identities based on the identity being:
A self affirmed personal identity (locatable only within a person's interaction with and relations to the world around you)
Historically shown to be included in an identity subculture (Such as in a notable number of personal accounts, poems, zines, books, or other media from a subculture)
Shown to be non harmful to other identities or persons (Such as in more than one professional study)
Examples: - Different studies over human history have concluded that being raised by gay parents doesn't cause inherent harm to children. Therefore, gay relationships are provably shown to be non harmful. They are included here. - Different self-reports, comics, zines, and other writings from the past 60 years mention male lesbians, bi lesbians, and lesbians in relationships with men. Therefore, it is historically shown to be included in lesbian culture, and is included here. - Studies, reports, and other examinations by professionals over the course of human history have come to the conclusion that minors in relationships with adults cannot properly consent and are harmed by those "relationships." Therefore, personal identities that try to justify these "relationships" are not included here.
"Personal Identity"?
"Personal Identity" is a purposefully broad term meant to apply to most self-affirmed forms of identification (plurality status, orientation, gender, etc).
Being a History Inclusionist means that you are in complete support of the following personal identities:
Plurality which does not attribute its origins to trauma
Lesbians who are also male / Gay men who are also female
Lesbians who are also mspec (bi, pan, poly, etc) / Gay men who are also mspec
Transgender / nonbinary people who don't experience dysphoria or only feel euphoria
Nonbinary genders, including xenogenders / nonbinary genders that are "atypical" (based on fictional characters, highly specific, based on animals, etc)
"Atypical" relationship formats such as polyamorous relationships, relationship anarchy, kink-focused relationships, etc (Or generally any other form of relationship between two or more consenting people that would not fall under anything on the list below this)
Gender presentations which conflict with and/or defy the expected norm (Women who use he/him pronouns, men who present feminine, etc)
Being a History Inclusionist means that you absolutely do not tolerate or support the following:
Acting on or encouraging attraction to children as an adult (Ped*philia)
Acting on, encouraging attraction to, or associating positive feelings with the attraction to one's family members (Inc*st)
Acting on or encouraging attraction to, or associating positive feelings with the attraction to animals (Z*ophilia)
TransID/TransX communities, the idea that someone can transition into or identify as an age, disorder, or condition they physically are not or do not have (transrace/diarace/trace, transabled/transdisorder/'transplural'/transautistic, and so on)
Arguing with other members of the LGBT community over who is allowed to use derogatory words (Q-eer, f-ggot, d-ke, and so on)
Tagging: @mogai-sunflowers @neopronouns @radiomogai
If you're interested in reading more about why I consider XYZ a good faith thing and why I don't consider XYZ the same, I made a Carrd! 📖🏳️‍🌈
71 notes · View notes
tuliptired · 6 months ago
Note
hi! ive read so many fics where egon's love interest is super smart and a scientist just like him but i kinda wanna reader the opposite at least once :') may i request an egon x reader where his s/o isnt super smart like him, doesnt have an interest in what he studies but is supportive, never went to college, and they're a high school drop out who got their GED through GED classes? maybe one day they're feeling self-conscious about their intelligence compared to him but he assures them that he loves them no matter what?
Please Stay with Your Own Kind (and I'll Stay with Mine)
Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Reader
Warnings: Accidental cut while cooking (stay safe friends :[ )
Tumblr media
Sorry this took ridiculously long, life caught up to me and I had to do this ask justice by unpacking all my junk from when I was struggling with school ( ╥ω╥ )
Better formatting on Ao3!!
 You wiped your cheek with the heel of your hand, dust left in its wake. You pushed your couch back into place with a grunt, trying your best to tune out the noise coming from your kitchen table. Normally, if anyone barged in while you were trying to clean and insisted on using your apartment for experimentation, you’d be more than ticked off. But, you were used to it by now, especially at this point in your relationship with a certain atypical scientist. How could you resist him, when he7 was muttering something about elevation and better work environments?
They say cleaning is the best way to get rid of unwanted guests, but Egon was far from colloquial, only ever sneezing as you dusted the space around him. There were bolts and screws littered all over the wood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. He was so busy lately, either at the firehouse or the university he had a fellowship with, that any visit was one to cherish. Even if it meant your centerpiece had to be relocated to the floor.
You stood, hands on your hips as none of your under-the-sink rummaging rewarded you with the little purple spray bottle you were looking for. “Egon?” You turned, the man zeroed in on the mechanism taking up such a small spot on the table.
He hummed, referring back to a large notebook without looking at you. “Could you check the bathroom for my window cleaner?”
Another hum as he kept working. This guy.
“Egon.”
He finally lifted his head, glasses slightly askew. “Right. Sorry.” he nodded once, before disappearing down the hall.
 Your eyebrows twitched upwards as you let out a light sigh, peering down at the contraption delicately, like your gaze could shatter all of his hard work. It was barely the same size as your landline, appearing almost miniscule when in your significant other’s large hands. How could such a tiny thing hold so much of his attention? Or require all the other machinery and calculation around it? Upon further inspection you could see intricate wiring woven throughout its insides. You clicked your tongue. This was all beside you- or above you, if you were being honest. You supported Egon, you really did, but Egon was physics, electromagnetism, degrees and doctorates in studies you’d never even heard of. And here you were, worrying about which set of patterned throw pillows fit the season more. 
The phone rang, stealing you from your moment of introspection, laced with contempt for whatever it was on your table. You took a breath before answering, voice uncertain about who would be calling so close to dinner. “Hello?”
“I’m calling from Columbia- Institute of Advanced Theoretical Research. Is Dr. Spengler around? This is one of the numbers he left for us.” The caller sounded boyish, and eager, rushing through his words.
You were a bit flattered at the idea of your line being an after-hours contact for him. “He’ll be just a second,” you apologized, leaning over to look into the darkness of the unlit hallway. Maybe you forgot to pick up another bottle at the store after all.
There was a staticky silence on the young man’s end, the excited murmur of voices when you picked up now lulled. You could hear him clear his throat before he spoke again. “If you don’t mind me assuming…you’re his partner, right?” he questioned.
“Oh! I am. He passes through here from time to time with work.” Your face heated up in such a silly way in spite of how long you’d been together. 
Surprised murmuring. Did he have company? “That’s great! Dr. Spengler’s a pretty big deal around here,” he boasted enthusiastically.
“Is he?” you smiled to yourself. “I don’t doubt he’s a decent scientist.”
“Of course! We’re all admirers, here.” he gushed. “I dream of being half the scholar he is. Dozens of degrees, 2 doctorates- he’s essentially a genius.”
You shuffled on your feet, amused at his vigor, but reaching that part of conversations surrounding intelligence and tertiary education that prodded at a nastier version of yourself. “Don’t I know it.”
He continued. “We study his journals like they’re gospel. He’s made such big progress in paramagnotheric study that we’re here working for him like drones. Grateful drones.” The student took a pause for air. “That’s why I called- we have big news for him.”
“It’s great- that you’re all so dedicated,” you squinted back down the hall.
Another scratchy moment without words. “I’d be so embarrassed, if he heard me raving like this. What about you?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, Dr. Spengler must have pretty refined tastes. What’s your doctorate in?”
Your throat tightened as you involuntarily clenched your jaw. You really thought you were over this question. Where was Egon? You could live with printed-stained glass if he’d save you from the incoming conversation. You drew in another breath. “Didn’t get that far.” 
“Oh! Sorry for assuming. Your master’s? We had bets on chemistry or neuroscience. Maggie had $20 on you being Dr. Abrams from engineering.”
Does he know that’s not a thing you say to a stranger? God, this was giving you a headache. “Only a GED,” you divulged painfully, snapping in speed but not in tone. What followed was what always followed, most frequently in the early days of your relationship. It was the stunned moment of disbelief from friends and family who knew your academic history. The lingering internal question of: “how’d they get with Einstein?”
“I see,” the caller finally stammered, most likely to be polite.
“Different things…it got away from me. If I could’ve, I would’ve,” you trailed off, not finishing your thought as you cringed at the idea of trying to explain your lack of a traditional diploma to someone who didn’t sound old enough to be far into their graduate schooling.
He cleared his throat. “I get it.” Did he? He’s got handfuls of degrees to add to his name. In the bitter respite of dead air, a venom uncoiled inside of you that was reserved to classmates in the gifted and talented program. But it wasn’t his fault, really. He was only a young adult going down the path that was open to him. And fangirling over your boyfriend, you thought to yourself as you wordlessly rewound it.
Finally, finally , Egon returned, with a clear liquid that wasn’t your window cleaner. But his presence didn’t make you feel any sort of reassurance. “Cladosporium growing in your grout. I made a fungicide for it.”
You furrowed your brows, pressing the phone into his chest and stalking off, leaving him to nearly drop the landline and whatever solution he was holding.
You resigned yourself to stewing in your misery and chopping carrots. You weren’t an exemplary chef, but you both needed to eat. Feelings that you’d be harboring in the back of yourself were boiling inside of you like oil, hotter than water. Egon appeared in the kitchen, having hung up.
“That was Lucas, from the university,” you heard behind you.
“I gathered.”
Egon must’ve failed to pick up on your tone. “He’s a bright young man. He manages the lab well when I’m gone.” You grabbed another vegetable before he settled at your side. “What’re you making?”
“Stew- rice- something. Could you get the stock out the fridge?” You cut awfully close to the tip of your pointer finger.
He tried handing it to you gently, and you grabbed it without looking, ducking into the cabinet by the oven for your measuring cup. Holding it up to the light, you cursed at the odd units of measurement. “ 15 fluid ounces,” you read the chipped red lettering, “how many cups-”
“1.87.” You didn’t turn to face him, letting a puff of air escape your nostrils. “Or 1.9,” he added quickly.
You poured it into the pot, steam rising into your face. Egon was quiet, until he leaned against the counter, taking up a much duller knife to help you get through all the vegetables before the broth burnt out. “About the mold in your bathroom,” he started. “I can remove it for you, but I’m worried about your respiratory health. Untreated fungi that you can see means untreated fungi that you can’t.” Wasn’t that reserved for roaches? Your skin crawled at the thought- of mold and an infestation. “Pathogenic diseases from mold are nothing to play around with.”
“It’s fine,” you uttered, checking on a pot of rice, fingers carefully holding onto the protected part of the hot metal handle.
“Killing it? I have sodium bicarbonate and trisodium phosphate back at the firehouse, it’ll only take-”
You grip the wooden spoon in your hand tightly, nails digging into the flesh of your palm. “No, I mean- don’t do anything! To my bathroom. Or my house. Please.” you nearly pleaded, shutting your eyes and stirring the contents of your dinner. 
Egon complied, wordlessly giving you a bit of space as he added the last potato. You chewed your lip.
“You usually ask for all the details from school.” his voice was barely audible.
A deep weight settled in your stomach. “It slipped my mind.” You spotted a bundle of thyme that never made it in, mindlessly plucking it from the countertop and going back to chopping. “What happened?” you breathed out.
His eyes were on you. “They’re making good strides. Lots of excitement, since they got the cells they engineered to detect psychokinetic energy in electromagnetic conditions. I don’t like leaving them alone, but this was nowhere near an actual challenge- it’s simple trigonometry.” Any other day, the “respected professor” thing would be hot. If you weren’t so focused on finely dicing the herb, you’d have seen his smirk to himself. “They were so happy- to get through the easier part of research.”
“Shit,” you hissed. The knife must’ve slipped, probably from how tense your hands were, or how thin you were slicing, or from how your vision clouded with tears of frustration. Regardless, it nicked into your flesh, quickly drawing blood. You brought the junction between thumb and pointer finger to your lips, before Egon seized your wrist. 
Egon herded you to the sink instead, his talk of “700 different types of bacteria” and “immunocompromised from mold inhalation” lost on you. You drew your wet hand back, lifting both to your eyes, now squeezed shut as you turned away. This whole thing was so, so stupid. It had been so long, and you still felt so angry. The outside world was tuned out from the rushing of water out of the faucet, until Egon’s voice broke through, even if it sounded far- as if he was on the other side of your apartment. 
“I’m sorry. You’re upset, and I don’t know how to help you.” 
A quivering air left you after you shut the sink off. He didn’t deserve your bad mood- or years worth of a bad mood. If you weren’t mad at the boy over the phone, or Egon, the only person left to scorn was yourself. Your vexation crumpled inward, turning into sadness. Self-pity. Resentment. Guilt. 
A thick swallow. “No- I’m sorry that I’ve been short with you today. It’s just- I’m- I don’t-”
Egon’s hands were guiding you to your table before you could break. In between joining you in the kitchen and taking the phone, he must’ve packed up what was left of the work he brought over, something you silently thanked him for. You sat in silence, not knowing how long you must’ve taken to steady your breathing and clear your head. Regardless, he sat with you the entire time, never once pushing you as his hand rested in yours, thumb laid clinically over your pulse point. He’s a creature of habit.
You looked to him, eyes a tinge red. “We’re getting older.” You lifted your gaze fondly to a familiar notch in between his eyebrows. It was only faint, something you’d teased him about because of his lack of efforts to stop or delay aging, but it wasn’t always there. “Much, much older.” Egon’s expression was neutral, something that brought you comfort when it should’ve worried you. “I admire you. So much. And so does everyone else- which you deserve. You’ve worked so hard, for so long, and you’re somebody, Dr. Spengler .” You gave him a weak smile that melted away as you blinked . “ And I’m awful for thinking it, awful for feeling it, but you don’t deserve an idiot who couldn’t even make it to graduation.” Hot tears gathered in your eyes again as your voice was shaky. “I’m holding you back from something bigger.”
His face was softer. “And, I feel like garbage. Utter and complete garbage because so much has happened since then and it still feels like I failed.” You could remember the first time Egon urged you to let him know how you felt, after every confession of unpleasant feelings felt like an unbalanced apology. He was allowing you to feel, without guilt. “It’s this nagging and incessant idea that I’m nothing.” You let your chest fall and rise. “Dr. Abrams wouldn’t do this.” a pitiful attempt at a joke. 
The ghost of amusement. His thumb gently caressed your pulse point, the heartbeat that was once in your throat resigned back to being a dull throb in your chest. He took a moment before speaking, voice small. “It’s not untrue that I value education.” Egon’s eyes rose to your own. “But I’d be closer to an idiot than you’ll ever be if I valued it over you, and your presence in my life.”
 “I’m sorry if I failed to notice how you’ve been feeling.” Egon took your other hand, the one that laid limply on the tabletop. “Do you think I’d be with anyone else just because they had a doctorate? A PhD?”
You shook your head, growing red under his sudden passion. “Egon, I-”
“It doesn’t matter to me, because they wouldn’t be you. You are so much more than an abbreviation.” Tears flowed freely from your eyes, and he gently wiped them away every time, hands cradling your wet cheeks. “Besides. Dr. Abrams isn’t half as interesting as you are.”
Egon smiled at you, eyes crinkling as you returned it. 
There was a hiss of smoke from the kitchen that made him flinch, the threat of fire making you scramble back to the stove. As you cut the heat, you winced at the sight of liquid and vegetables burnt black and stuck to the bottom of the pot. 
“Ah, man. I’m sorry,” you frowned, switching on the fan.
“Things get away from us,” Egon held your shoulders, smiling as he pressed a kiss into your hair.
79 notes · View notes
studentinpursuitofclouds · 10 months ago
Note
hi! could you write the bachelor/ettes with a m!farmer that dresses very fem? like— with all the stuff that's stereotypically related to girls?
Heya 👋 Sure, why not.
I honestly didn't know what format to choose. At first it was going to be big stories, but I thought it would be too long to read lol. Thanks for the ask btw! 💕
SDV bachelors/ettes with male!Farmer that dresses very fem:
**********************************************
Abigail was filled with envy because Farmer is a man who could wear whatever he wanted and not be told by his parents that he "had to dress properly". Amethyst lover still has to listen from mom that "a lady should wear a skirt" or from dad "a lady should this and that". Ugh... Oh, and Farmer looks gorgeous! Damn, Abby's jealous >:/
"You're such a weirdo, what's with the girly clothes?" Alex should have learnt not to say the first thing that comes to mind out loud, but we all have our flaws. Athlete has nothing bad to say towards the Farmer himself, but clearly doesn't understand his taste in clothing. Neither does he understand why Sebastian is always walking around in black clothes. Farmer looks... alright, Alex think. But he just doesn't get it.
Oh, how happy Emily is to have another person in town who loves to express himself through clothes! Everything is harmoniously matched, the fabric is of the best quality.... And most importantly, the Farmer feels comfortable! The blue-haired girl doesn't care that it's "not for a man". Emily can make clothes for Farmer according to his style, if he doesn't mind of course!
In the past, Abby had been teased for dressing like a boy, and Sebby had been insulted for having long, "girlish" fringes.... More than once Sam has threatened to hit the offenders with his guitar if they keep it up. So if Farmer gets harassed too, he shouldn't hesitate to ask Sam for help. Farmer looks cool, by the way!
To be honest, Farmer's fem style of dressing for Penny is rather extravagant. The young teacher is modest by nature and with old-fashioned ideas about how men and women should dress. On the other hand, she admires Farmer's courage to express himself and not afraid to be judged.
There were at least three times in Sebastian's life when some tourists picked on his "fem look", namely his tight jeans and black-painted nails. The local emo even then knew that judging people by their appearance is a complete nonsense, so he would not react to Farmer's atypical clothes in the bad way. And Farmer look cool, though Sebby is not a fan of his style, preferring everything black.
Yoba, is this the latest collection from the same famous designer that Haley always orders clothes from?! She recognises these clothes anywhere. Haley thought the new farmer always wore dirty overalls. And these clothes look so stylish on him! What? Who frickin cares if the clothes are feminine, the Farmer looks great! Slay! 💅
Shane was about to open his mouth and comment on Farmer's, as he think, ridiculous outfit. But then he remembered that it wasn't his place to judge people by their clothes, considering that his everyday clothes were a torn blue jumper with Joja's logo on it, pizza-stained shorts, and ragged crocs. After Emily's clothing therapy, Shane will have a little change of heart. But in general, he doesn't give a shit what Farmer wears, even if it's a trash bag.
"Hey, you look great." Believe me, Farmer, Leah's words are genuine. This woman is always used to being honest with people, and she will honestly praise her friend's appearance. Because a lot of people express themselves in different ways. Leah chose to express herself through creativity, while Farmer chose to express himself through clothes, and that's totally cool.
Harvey marvelled at the fact that Farmer walks around in these clothes and is completely unafraid of criticism..... No, no, don't get him wrong, Farmer looks good! It's just... In a way, Harvey is jealous, because he has to sneak around to aerobics in fear that some of the other bachelors will see him and make fun of him. But you know, just seeing Farmer has inspired the doctor to be braver.
Although in Maru's situation it was not about clothes, she too had to deal with this type of conflicts. Her grandparents told her mom, Robin, that her job as a carpenter was "not for women", while her father's relatives condemned Maru's passion for inventions as "not for young lady". How nice that Maru's parents were supportive and that Farmer has also defied criticism and is doing what makes him happy. Don't listen to anyone and do what your heart desire!
Quite extravagant, but Elliott even likes his style. Farmer definitely has the taste to pick colours and accessories harmoniously. What? Judging? Pfft! Dear friend, when Elliott lived in town before moving to Stardew Valley, the people there also tried to ridicule his clothing choices, calling him a dandy and, pardon his language, a "pompous peacock." Ugh, some people just have no taste! But at least Elliott has excellent clothing taste. And Farmer has it as well!
98 notes · View notes
mayasaura · 2 years ago
Note
hi. can you elaborate on harrow's schizophrenia? asking in good faith, I'm schizotypal myself. she's always ticked me off as weird in nd way, but not in psychotic/schizo- way. i was really disappointed when her "insanity" turned out to be genuine haunting.
Hi!!
Have you seen this post collecting the supplementary materials in which the author mentions Harrow's (and her) schizophrenia? The endnotes of Harrow the Ninth, interviews, ect. Public statements only; nothing that violates her privacy.
More detailed elaboration involving the actual text under the cut, if that's what you're looking for.
I'm not gonna dissect Harrow's personality for nd traits, because that would personally feel skeevy to me. But I will say that even before I found the meta evidence in the post above, I never thought Harrow's "insanity" was entirely explained by the hauntings. Abigail may have thought so, because it did explain the Egg Notes and certain other things that happened in the River version of Canaan House, but Abigail had a very limited knowledge of Harrow's mind and history.
First off, I want to be upfront that I'm not schizotypal, so my analysis is mostly based on the books themselves and second hand knowledge. Feel free to hit the back button now. If you still want to hear my textual analysis, I'd be grateful if you'd let me know if I fuck up.
The last section of Chapter 3 (pages 51-52 in the American hardcover) is worth a re-read. It describes Harrow's condition when she was ten years old. Auditory and visual hallucinations, losing time, strong sourceless emotions, and so on. That's all well before the start of the haunting Abigail offers as an explanation.
Then there's a bit of advice from Crux:
Tumblr media
Again, this memory is from years before Wake started rearranging the furniture in Harrow's head. If the haunting was causing all of Harrow's symptoms, why would Crux have been helping her learn how to manage them as a child?
There's also this fun little detail from the Epiparodos, when Ianthe is examining what Harrow did to her brain:
Tumblr media
Atypical size or formation of the left superior temporal gyrus is commonly associated with schizophrenia, and I suspect Muir put that hint in intentionally.
So that's my thesis. It's not a dichotomy. Harrow is both schizophrenic and haunted, but only the haunted part was Abigail's business.
416 notes · View notes