#well its not like i *have to* put them in historical clothes its not like this gacha game is very historical...

[ded-lime]

my attempt at lily versions

[the-californicationist]

There’s always a sexy little literature element in your books. I’d salivatteee over price as a grumpy librarian in some small town. Ughh with some small glasses and flannel. He’s so obsessed with the nerdy little frequenter who hides away in some section in the back to read. Imagine him peeking thru the books to catch a glimpse and sees her putting on a private little show in the some hidden away section. Little does he know she wants her grumpy librarian to watch 🦭. I know you’d make this so sexy and delicious, you deviant woman 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

i love you so much @ofdivinity01 <3 i hope this quick fic hits those points for you <3 <3

The Archives

John Price has retired, and he has tried out a number of different jobs to keep his mind occupied. One of his favorite jobs so far has been working in the archives of a library, especially since there's a pretty little regular that has been haunting his thoughts.

TW: female genitalia, overt sex, pwp, seriously its plotless, 3rd person POV

AO3 Link

Working as a library archivist was not how John Price had pictured his retirement beginning. To be fair, he didn’t need the money. Retiring before the age of forty with a comfortable (substantial) bank account to reflect a job well done was already an achievement. So, tackling another high-stress, high-profile career seemed doable yet unnecessary. He’d stuck around the house for a while, pottering about with some renovations or garden projects, but it wasn’t enough. He was antsy. It was only when his old friend, Steve Kosser, the director of a top-level historical documents archive, called him and asked for some extra security coverage that he’d realized having a gun on his belt felt familiar in a way that he wasn’t sure he liked. But, he loved the library. 

John had always loved books. His house was full of them. He had stacks on each and every surface. The classics, some Shakespeare, a bit of poetry, some nonfiction… he would read anything. There was even a bodice-ripper or two tucked away unseen, but he wasn’t ashamed. Reading kept him sharp. It taught him about people, about their nature, about possibilities, about hope in places where there was none. 

His work had quickly transitioned from security to desk work, and from desk work to archival data entry. Now, he was a procurement specialist, reaching out across the world to find texts and documents that his clients needed. Being close to the university meant that he had some repeat customers, but there were few who caught his eye like her. 

She was his shadow-cloaked phantom, haunting him from the back corner. Her wardrobe was black on black on black, never daring to show him more than a hand or a wrist, or a bit of her neck other than her face. But, he lived for that face. Round, full cheeks, and a downturned smile when he greeted her each evening that she decided to come in to work. He dreamt of that smile almost as much as her plump, thick ass, and heavy, ample breasts; all hidden beneath her modest clothing. Part of him warred against his lust, chastising him for ogling her when she was just here to work on her graduate research, but the other part of him was… harder to convince. 

But, tonight, in his almost empty archive section, he was given a true gift. She came in from the downpour outside, and he almost didn’t recognize her. He saw her tumble into the door, shaking her umbrella, frustrated and wet, but he’d needed to do a double-take. This was not his modest little raven, hiding behind her feathers. No, she was a bird of paradise tonight. 

Her feet were lined with strappy black heels, high and platformed, shining in patent leather, wet from the puddles outside. Her legs were bare, and as he raked his eye upwards, he lingered on her round calves, her muscular thighs, wide and smooth, all leading him up under a high, pleated skirt, dark green plaid, sitting high on her waist, doing little to hide that juicy rump. She had on a button-down shirt, starched and white, but he could see her black bra underneath, the rain making the fabric of her top transparent. Her hair was up in some sort of style, pulled away from her face and her neck, curling and gleaming from the droplets. 

She was panting from the cold, and from rushing inside, and that didn’t help his cause. He’d been battling a succession of throbbing hard-ons ever since he’d first spotted her, and that was weeks ago. At home, he’d retreat to his bedroom, rod in hand, working himself into an orgasmic froth, trying his best to picture literally anyone but her. But, she would flash into his mind, her smile, those eyes, that skin… and he’d be lost. 

When he saw a request come in from her library account, it was just as bad if not worse. His primal body would celebrate, happy that she needed his help, and that he could provide for her, and he’d be in a tumultuous, heart-pumping, cock-stretching predicament yet again. He’d cloistered himself away, deep in the darkness of the stacks, fisting himself in rushed, punishing strokes, coming in his open palm, stopping himself from ruining the historical treasures he was meant to be protecting, hanging his head in love-drunk shame. 

But now, in some sort of twisted, scholarly fantasy, here she was. His curvy little grad student, dripping wet and coming straight up to his desk. 

“Hiya, John,” she whispered, her voice somehow cutting through the blood that pounded through his ears. 

“Hey there, love. It’s cats and dogs out there, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she looked down at herself, trying to squeeze the water from her top, stretching it even thinner across her visible bra line, the black lace now fully visible to him, its floral pattern burning itself into his mind like fire on a page, licking black soot and tormenting him deep in his belly.

“Do you think you could help me?” She looked up at him with those doe eyes, pleading.

His body responded before he did, plumping himself back to life, feeling how the body of his prick pressed itself down the leg of his jeans. Yes, sweetheart, we’ll fuckin’ help you, won’t we, mate?

John shook it off, nodding his head, 

“Sure, what’s the problem?”

She pulled some copies out of her bag,

“A friend sent these over, but I don’t think they match the microfiche film that you have here. I hate to ask you this, but could you help me do a cross-check? I really just need someone to listen while I read from the fiche film.”

“You bet.”

John followed her like a loyal mutt over to the dark microfiche machine, his tail surely wagging if he had one, stealing glance after fiery glance at that delectable body as she walked, those heels clacking against the terrazzo floors. 

She found the machine she wanted and perched herself on the tiny stool. He sat beside her, eyes glued to the page, afraid of himself if he dared look anywhere else. The way the machines were set up meant that she would have her eyes stuck in the viewfinders, like she was scoping out the horizon on a submarine, while the soft golden glow from the machine would light up her unbuttoned cleavage, making her body that much more visible as he stared at her from his periphery. 

“Okay,” she positioned her eyes in the machine’s goggle-like viewer, unable to see anything around her but the film she was flipping through, “We’re on page seventy-four, right?”

John looked down at his packet, 

“Yep, seventy-four.”

“Okay, oh—!” She twisted herself on the stool, trying to get more comfortable, but her ass was too much for the tiny seat to handle. He reached out on instinct, catching her on her flank, gripping her none too lightly, saving her from falling. 

“Gotcha,” he laughed. 

She peeked out of the viewfinder for a moment, smiling, 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Mmm,” she cooed, “Your hand is so warm. Didn’t realize how cold I was.”

“Tha’s alright, love. We’ll getcha warmed back up.”

She gave him an encouraging look as she turned back to the viewfinder, and John felt like he had earned her approval to keep his hand planted right where it was. 

As she read from the film, he followed along, not really needing to report any corrections, but his palm was itching to travel. He had a hold on her hip, part of his hand riding the hem of her skirt, feeling the chill of her flesh, pebbling from the damp cold. Then, he began to pet the spot, rubbing it to create some warmth, generate some heat with his friction, and every brush from his palm meant that the wool of her skirt would scrunch up, revealing more and more of her plump butt as he did so. Eventually, he was under her skirt, realizing that the skirt was all there was. No panties, no hose, no nothing. 

“Ah, uh…” He made his excuses, “Sorry, love. Got a little carried away keepin’ you from freezin’ in here.”

He removed his hand for a moment, and then, the impossible: she grabbed it and placed it back where it was, peeking at him from the fiche machine, 

“Top of page seventy-nine, according to Marchante, the lost letters from Smith to Callant, prior to the war of 1617…” 

Game on. 

Price followed along dutifully, confirming each page with her, but now, spurred on by her teasing consent, his hand wandered unbridled. His fingers squeezed her body like the flesh of a ripe peach, soft and supple, giving way under his ferocious strength. Deeper and deeper, he snaked his way down the curve of her cheek, hunting for the parts of her that wouldn’t be taken by the cold. Her little, dripping furnace; that’s what he wanted. 

When he found it, her breath hitched. His ring and pinky fingers dropped far enough down to find her hanging right off of the stool, her holes uncovered, open to the air, unguarded and vulnerable to his searching hands. The slick, lava-hot heat that he discovered there as he sank between her folds warmed him from the inside, turning his erection into a huge fucking problem, painful and hungry for her sticky, sweet treat. When her words stuttered, he pumped his fingers deeper inside of her, steady in and steady out, up and down, the quiet milking noises muffled by her skirt. 

“Tch. C’mon, love, don’t stop readin’,” he purred in her ear, daring to plant a soft kiss in the hollow of her neck, pulling back to watch the goosebumps pebble across her skin not from the chill, but from him. 

“...in the, uh…” she was breathing heavy.

“In the coming months…” he prompted, teasing her with his hand, curling his fingertips as he delved deeper, pulling out some of her wetness to paint her lips, feeling her muscles loosen up for him, readying her for something more than his thick digits. 

“...in the coming months, the two armies… they… um, they…”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tha’s a good girl. Keep going.”

She tried her best, and he almost felt bad for her, but not that bad. Because when he added another finger, sinking his middle alongside his ring, letting his pointer finger lazily tease its way up the slick surface of her folds, reaching for her clit, her reading stopped entirely. 

“Mm, fuck!” She hissed under her breath, “John… I can’t…”

“I know, baby. I know. But, this is your bloody fault, innit?” John whispered, his voice gravelly and rolling beneath his breath, “You came in here, you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“No…” She whined, her mouth hanging open, her lips shining with a little bit of her own drool. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned darkly, “You wanted to see if I would take your fuckin’ bait.”

Another finger, three of them, twisting and curling, bending and rubbing against her tight walls, and that was enough for her confession.

“Yes. Yes, I… yes, fuck…”

“And you wore this just for me, didn’t you?”

“...yes.”

“My good girl,” John praised her, tossing the packet down on the desk and using his free hand to widen the neckline of her shirt.

He pulled at the fabric until he broke a button, forcing her breasts through the opening, shoving his hand into her bra to fondle her nipples and squeeze her full tits. Then, he made a true effort to tuck her clothes under them, letting her breasts sit on top of her bra cups, hanging freely in the soft glow of the reading machine. Now, with her nipples on full display, he could bend down to kiss them, to nip at them softly, suckling at her skin as he fingered her, eliciting nothing but desperate, quiet mewls from her open mouth. 

“John, please…”

She was barely perched on the stool anymore, her ass shifting and trembling, trying to present itself to him, her body wordlessly begging for more and more of his touch. 

“Please, what? Want me to pull a different document?” He chuckled, removing himself entirely, making as if to stand and leave her there a half-naked, dripping mess. 

“No!” She gasped, grabbing him by his shirt, yanking him back, shying away from his cruel laughter. 

He returned to her, using his fingers to explore her swollen pussy and, now, to lightly rim his way around the tight ring of her asshole. His once-gentle suckles against her puffy nipples turned into rough, bruising kisses, making her squirm from pleasure and pain, crying out for him. 

“Greedy thing,” he panted, feeling her flutter around his hand, “You wanna come on me? Right here? In the middle of my fuckin’ library?”

She nodded, her eyes now fixated on the way he was playing with her tits, stealing sweet kisses from her mouth when she would cry out too loudly. 

“Teasin’ me for weeks,” he admitted, pulling his hand from beneath her skirt, suckling on his fingers to taste her, sticking them in her mouth so she could join him, watching her pupils dilate as her own heady fluids touched her tongue. 

“So pretty…” John kissed her, and then it was his turn to gasp. 

She had let her hands wander to his lap, rubbing the outline of his cock through his jeans, teasing the head when she finally found it, encouraging him to buck against her touch. 

He started to fuck her with his hand; long, deep strokes, no longer caring about the lewd noises he was making as his knuckles churned within her, soaked and pumping in an unravelling rhythm. 

To hide her screams, he pressed his mouth against hers, stuffing her pretty cheeks full of his tongue, feeling her suck against it for comfort as she fell apart. 

Then, she was wet beyond belief, dripping all over his palm, creamy and hot, giving him a reward for every cruel thrust of his hand. She was gripping onto his cock’s shaft for dear life, holding it like a lifeline, and her tight grip was enough to drag him right along the edge with her. 

By the time he pulled away from her, she was a shuddering, trembling mess. Her legs were shaking, barely able to keep her balance on the tiny stool, her tits red and purple from his assault. 

“C’mere, sweetheart. Let’s go back to my office, yeah? Get you all cleaned up.”

She nodded, not even bothering to cover herself as he helped her stand, walking in front of him as he led her through the back door to the restricted area, her eyes hooded and exhausted from her ordeal, so sweet and trusting. 

“Thanks for your help, John,” she sighed, smiling up at him with that same grin that had haunted his dreams, “I wish there was some way that I could repay you. Is there anything I can do?”

Now that they were in his office, he sat her on his desk, unbuttoning the last remaining buttons of her blouse, peeling her bra away from her shoulders, unzipping the side of her skirt, grinning down at her wet sex, licking his lips like the wolf that he was,

“Oh, baby, there are so many things you could do for me. But, let’s start with you spreading your legs, hm?”

“Like this?” She did as he asked, watching him slide her skirt off of her body, letting it ruffle to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her heels. Slowly, she pulled her knees apart, showing off for him, knowing that as much as he was the wolf, she was more than just prey. 

“Holy shite,” John murmured under his breath, watching as she bloomed for him, a pink petal in the darkness of his own shadow. 

He knelt before her, eager to put his mouth against her softness, lapping his tongue against her like he was starving. Her thick thighs felt good in his hands, and he pried her open with them, pulling her legs even wider than she had dared. 

He dragged his tongue along every fold and dripping line of delicate skin, finding the swollen body of her clit nestled beneath its hood, shining for him like a pretty pink gem. He pressed his fingers back inside of her, not granting her any mercy, starting with three, stretching his way back in. 

John’s hand fucked her as he drank from her, reaping what he sowed, over and over, in and out, rubbing her to her peak and dragging her over the edge. 

She was gleaming down his beard by the time he’d had his fill. His tongue coated in her slick, swallowing her down his throat, enjoying the lingering taste of her in his mouth. 

His poor darling was hoarse from her keening, sweating, trembling below him, a drenched mess on his desktop. He chuckled, petting her skin with his callused hands, 

“Had enough?”

Her eyes were full of worry and anticipation as she looked up at him, wanting to say yes, but shaking her head no. 

He teased her, unzipping his fly, letting his cock roll out onto her belly, thrusting it forward until he was flush with her hips, showing her just how deep he would reach. Her eyes widened with shock as she reached down to touch him, feeling him dripping with precome far above her navel. 

John tapped himself against her, heavy and stiff, 

“Change your mind?”

“Um…” Her voice was small, but she still looked up at him expectantly, so he rubbed his head through her folds as a final warning. 

“Ungh! Mmf– John…” She moaned his name, rocking her hips against his long shaft, her knees shaking every time his head buried itself in her folds. 

He slapped his cockhead against her clit as if knocking for entry, making her gasp, 

“I’m not hearing a no, love.”

She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stop herself from screaming as she felt him notch his head into the cradle of her pussy, pressing forward just enough to stretch her with the body of his cock, watching as her eyes began to fill up with tears, overwhelmed by his size. 

By the time he was halfway into her warm core, her eyes had rolled behind her fluttering lashes, her breath stuck in her throat, her lips parted, showing him her lolling tongue. 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, yeah?” John grunted, shoving himself the rest of the way through her clenched muscles, listening to the sounds of her wetness as her body tried to make room for his immense girth. 

As John began to thrust into her, she squeezed herself against him, fighting off another orgasm, each of them coming closer and closer together as she became almost overstimulated by him. He held his fist over her lower belly, leaning forward to put his weight down into his knuckles, making her feel every inch of him. 

The pressure from his hand turned her into a gooey mess, her body throwing everything it could to accommodate him, her cries dragging out into deep moans, fully under his spell. 

He couldn’t help himself. All of those nights where his cock had only been comforted by his own hand were running him down, crackling at the edges of his mind, eating away at his humanity, ravenous and desperate. Finally feeling her, hearing her cry for him, watching the way her pussy sucked him in; it was making him wild. 

His desk was rocking off of its feet, scooting across the floor of his office, John’s strength too much for it to hold him back. He pulled her knees together, using them to push her thick thighs against her belly, holding her down at a new angle. For a few moments, he let himself get lost in the delightful jiggle of her body as he railed against her, admiring how her fat ass rippled with each of his thrusts. 

“John… J–John. Oh, my God,” she gripped the edge of the table, her elbows framing her head on either side, the new position making her breasts hang and sway like heavy teardrops. 

“Come for me, love. C’mon. Let me feel it,” he growled breathlessly, leaning against her leg, letting his lips and tongue graze along her ankle, tracing the skin between the straps of her gleaming heels. 

“I’m… so close…”

John kept his pace, even though everything within him wanted to breakdown and follow her over the edge. His cock was throbbing, sending him every signal that it was ready to burst, his aching balls full and tight, the nerves in his groin burning with hot pleasure. 

Then, he was rewarded for his patience. She began to unfurl beneath him, unraveling like a tangled ball of yarn, chaotic and spinning out of control. Her muscles within her core clamped down on his cock, milking him like a hungry mouth, yanking him deeper inside of her as she came. With all of the strength he had left, he pulled himself out of her at the last moment, spraying rope after rope of his come across her pulsating hole, painting her pussy with his own orgasm, grunting like a rabid animal. 

He let her legs fall open, weak as she was, watching as she melted on his desk, laying beside her. She curled into him, resting her head on his chest, still fully clothed in stark contrast to her nakedness. Both of them were breathing in ragged, exhausted bursts, clinging to each other for any kind of strength they could find left. 

“Thanks for… helping me, John,” she smiled up at him, kissing his neck. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he kissed her forehead, “Research is my second favorite thing.”

“What’s your first?” She looked lost, still reeling from what he had just put her through. 

“Oh, love,” he let out a low rumbling laugh, “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll show you again.”

[thehaberdasheress]

Valentine's Day for embroidery nerds

Something I love about historical embroidery is how much the present and the past are stitched together. Valentine's Day is one of those things that's centuries old, but still a little new and fresh every time it rolls around. It is what we put into it, as well as what it used to be.

I print patterns onto interfacing that sticks to the fabric while you stitch. Then when you're done, you just dunk it in water to wash the pattern off!

So here are my new festive offerings:

Visible mending patches: Hearts I and Hearts II

I couldn't decide on one, so why not both? These are great if you want an easy way to embroider little wee hearts on things! They really shine when they're used for visible mending. You can use them to attach new patches to holes in old clothes, and look good doing it.

Embroidery Border: Lovebirds High

I wanted something big and fun, so I designed this one myself. Its figurative grandparents are Renaissance blackwork and Scandinavian Rosemaling. I liked being able to combine an existing embroidery border into a bigger pattern. 7.5 cm (3") wide and 16" (40cm) long.

Embroidery Border: Lovebirds Low

Another original design! I've been making a lot of birds lately. To me these feel like office-worker sparrows that have stopped to kvetch together on a window ledge during their seed break. Love... is on the staff meeting agenda. 1 ¼" (3.5 cm) wide and 40 cm (16") long

And finally...

The apple of my eye, the jewel of my crown, Renaissance Hearts

God bless Bartolomeo Veneto (active 1502-1531), who was incredibly good at painting clothing. Because this one, I could make literally the same pattern. I could just go...

The pattern is 3.5 cm (1 ¼") wide and 16" (40 cm) long.

My Etsy Store has even more designs, as well as some fashion accessories. Shipping is free on orders $40 CAD and above.

And as always, I remain deeply grateful for your attention, energy, enthusiasm, and patronage. I am so lucky to have this business; it's changed my life. Thank you!

[tanuki-kimono]

hello!

to start off, i just wanna say that i love your blog and it has been a wonderful archive and resource for kimono and japanese fashion history!

on that note, i was wondering if you happen to know about these tight sleeves worn by the main characters on jidaigeki? (circled in red)

someone on reddit suggested that it could be a strip of sarashi wrapped around the arm, while this ask here said it could be a juban with its long sleeves bounded tightly (they did provide a link which is now unfortunately no longer available).

i was just wondering which is correct, and if these sleeves are historically accurate?

thank you! ☺️

Hi! Thank you for your kind words <3

Well technically one could use fabric strips to wrap arms (and legs), but it's dubious this would have been done unless you were a rag-wearer of some kind. This is inconceivable in a formal setting (first pic), and for well-off samurai (second pic).

To my knowledge, juban would not have been used like this either. Wrapping them would have looked wonky and felt uncomfortable considering juban tailoring.

Arm wrappers are in fact a whole category of "traditional" clothing, and generally called 手甲 tekkou, which designates any mittens-like arm bracers, tied with strings and/or kohaze clasps.

Variations existed:

in length, for example 半手甲 wrist to elbow / 長手甲 wrist to upper arm often tied together on the bust

with or without part covering backs of hands, coming in different shapes and styles, attached or not with a loop around middle finger (山付き手甲, 手甲付き手筒).

Similar attire existed for legs, in form of gaiters/leg warmers called 脚絆 kyahan.

(find more, including another "sexy" kyahan pic, and how to put them on here)

As a side note, vocab around mitten-like clothing can be confusing:

手甲 Tekkou, is the generic term for anything covering the arms and hands, including gauntlet/armored ones (which I know under the term 籠手 kote)

But you can also find the word 腕貫 udenuki = arm tube, which can made from several materials like rattan/bamboo (worn under sleeves to keep fresh during summer, or above them to protect sleeves when writing with a brush), or made from fabric (and used for warmth, to keep dirt away, etc. Also called 腕袋 udebukuro)

Nowadays, both tekkou and kyahan are still super common sight during matsuri, as they are part of the attire of mikoshi bearers and taiko drumers (see this shop here and here):

Hope this helps :)

[trans-rite]

How to join the Transgender Ancestor Rite: an FAQ on our updated format

What is it?

an annual, non-denominational ritual honoring transgender individuals who have passed on

an act of solidarity with the lineage of transgender ancestors who have come before us and paved the way, as well as with the descendants who will come after us when we are gone

a chance to share tenderness and kindness with the restless spirits of transgender people who lost their lives to violence

an opportunity for living transgender folks, including those who have lost trans loved ones, to grieve, mourn, and pray

a labor of love from a multiracial group of trans spirit workers, each at various stages of study in ancestor veneration practices, who have been putting on this ritual since 2014

When is it?

the ritual should take place on or around the Trans Day of Remembrance on November 20th, preferably within a week

most of us do it at night but any time of day is fine

if you need to do it a little before or after the 20th, don't sweat it

Where is it?

wherever you are!

groups are welcome to host local events and inform us about them, but the ritual itself takes place in a location of your own choosing, usually at home

if you have access to a local TDOR event that could incorporate some or all of this ritual, you are welcome to bring it there

most of the organizers have historically been located in the northeastern US but you don’t have to be

Who is it for?

it honors everyone from this year’s Trans Day of Remembrance official list, as well as any other deaths of trans individuals from the year that participants wish to include

illness losses, violent deaths, suicides, and natural deaths are all eligible for inclusion

it includes, cumulatively, all transgender deaths from previous years as well, named on the TDOR lists and unnamed, throughout history

it honors and praises the trans ancestors, people who were alive both recently and longer ago, who feel themselves in connection with us, who have received the care and honor we offered through previous years’ rituals, who are bright and well and who can tend the line from the other side

participants can be trans or cisgender, of any or no denomination or faith

Does it cost money?

nope! this is an anticapitalist affair

you can buy incense and offerings if you like, but you don’t need to spend money to participate

Why are y’all doing this?

honestly this could take pages and pages about the importance of this work and of soothing the troubled dead and tending our ancestral line et cetera et cetera ad infinitum but the short version is

we gotta

our ancestors require it and we’re making sure they get it

Okay, how does it work?

during the ritual, you sit or stand at an altar, light a candle, put out a glass of fresh water, and read a prayer

you may also make any other offerings you feel called to do

if so moved, you read the names of the dead from this year's TDOR list and call on our bright and well ancestors to tend to these newly passed souls

all the people participating in all the different places in the world help create a rising raft of energy that is greater than the sum of its parts, delivering the restless dead among our line into the care of our bright and well ancestors, who, in turn, also care for us, the living

Prayers? I thought you said this was non-denominational.

prayers can involve divinity, or they can be kind and soothing words to say to the dead

you can look through our prayers tag to get ideas and inspiration, but feel free to find poems on your own and/or write something yourself as well 

you are welcome to include deity or not, as you prefer

the organizers of this ritual incorporate gods and spirits in our practices but you by no means need to

on the flip side, if you want your gods involved, feel free to do so in whatever respectful manner works for you

What do I need on my altar?

the basics are an altar cloth (white is traditional; a bandana works), a cup to be filled with water, and a new or dedicated candle (white is traditional here also but follow your instincts)

other great offerings include cut flowers, portions of your food and drink (though alcohol is not advised with restless spirits), tobacco, honey, pictures and/or names of the deceased, art, music, dancing, and any gender paraphernalia you think the ancestors might like

do not put pictures of living people on the altar

it can be as simple or ornate as you choose: the important parts are the candle, the cup, and the cloth

Isn’t it sketchy to be working with dead people?

a little bit

it is much less sketchy since our format change in 2022, at which point this ritual shifted from working directly with restless spirits (dicey) to interfacing with them only through our cadre of elevated bright and well ancestors who have already benefited from previous years' rituals

we advise that you cleanse or purify in whatever way you prefer, ideally before and after the working

if you’re in a Western (especially American Christian) culture that views death as The End and discussion of death as taboo, consider reading up on cultures where ancestor veneration is a normal part of everyday life (hint: it’s most of them)

Other questions? Send them in and we’ll answer them, and maybe add them to the list! If you post about the ritual, tag #troe2023 and we will check it out!

Thank you for joining us!

- Mod Alder and team

[queerprayers]

Hi! This advent I really want to honour my faith rather than just celebrating christmas in a secular sense. I found your post about advent and the liturgical new year inspiring, and I was wondering if you could point me towards some ideas or resources for advent practices or ways to go about worship specifically for this period - everywhere I've looked just talks about lighting candles, which I'm not able to do in my current housing. Do you have any suggestions?

Thank you for your blog and everything you write here, and I hope you have a wonderful new year <3

Happy Advent, beloved! Candles are great (including fake ones or felt/crafted ones)—or you could recreate a similar weekly/daily thing, like hanging another star in the window. But that's not your only option. Here are some thoughts! (I also said some similar things last year you might find interesting.)

One of the most meaningful things about my Advents growing up was the fact that it was visibly not-quite-Christmas. We put up our tree maybe a few days before but we didn't decorate it until Christmas Eve. We didn't listen to Christmas music till Christmas—we listened to Advent music. We put our nativity set in the window, but gradually—we would set up Mary and Joseph traveling to it, and I remember waiting to unpack the baby Jesus until Christmas Eve. (The wise men were on the bookshelf until Epiphany.) I've put a painting of the Annunciation on my altar, but Christmas stuff will wait. 

It's very important to me to make each season distinct materially. The things around me, the music I listen to, the books I read, the prayers I say, change tangibly—in Advent and Lent especially. My emotions come and go, what I'm thinking about is different every day, but it's Advent because I am doing Advent—and not yet doing Christmas, no matter what the music in the grocery store or the parties I'm invited to tell me. (I don't refuse to find joy in them, I'm just conscious about the fact that I'm in a different season. It's not as big a deal to me as the Lent/Easter divide, though, which I will defend with every part of me.)

I love liturgical colors for this reason, too—my church isn't very extravagant and mostly looks the same throughout the year, but the altar cloth is a different color. I know exactly what season it is just from that. (Our Advent is blue to honor Mary, but most people's is purple like Lent with maybe a pink Gaudete Sunday.) My home altar also changes color, so I have that visual in my room as well.

So do it on purpose, candles or no. Maybe wait on a few Christmas-y things, like ornaments or music (don't worry, Christmas has twelve days and then you can keep doing it all through the Epiphany season if you want). Make it Advent, whenever you start! 

Historically, Advent traditions have been very similar (or identical) to Lenten ones. The Orthodox church calls Advent the Nativity Fast. It's been a penitent preparation. Things we may associate with Lent, like going without things or structured prayer, can find a home in Advent as well.

Secular celebrations and consumerism have affected Advent as well as Christmas, with countless calendars and just in general by filling our lives with Christmas themes that might make us forget Advent has its own themes. (To be clear, I support anyone celebrating Christmas—once a religion evangelizes/colonizes/rules, it has no right to accuse people of appropriating its holidays. I am simply talking about how the cultural practice differs.) Advent has themes of peace and love and hope, but it's got more specific themes than that, scarier stuff than that. It's about Christ's coming in the Incarnation, but it's also about Christ coming all around us every day, and Christ's promised future coming.

Spend some time with Isaiah, spend some time with meditations on Mary (I just read some of Catherine of Siena's words which are here as a reading for March 25.). From the poem I posted, you can tell I spent some time with Joel last year. Here's the Revised Common Lectionary daily readings for these seasons—you could start a habit or do it for a season or explore some passages every once in a while. You can find the Book of Common Prayer's traditional Advent prayers here (The Collects >> choose Traditional or Contemporary language >> Seasons of the Year). The ancient "O Antiphons" accompany the Magnificat starting Dec. 17 (here's a booklet with commentary & Latin chant). Forward Movement has several podcasts, if you want to pray daily while commuting or taking a walk or right before bed.

There are a million Advent devotionals out there—you can find one from an author you like, or search your/a denomination + "advent devotional" or "advent prayers" and you'll probably find something. For some social justice oriented ones, I've found Red Letter Christianity's Reflections from Bethlehem (by Palestinian authors), Justice Unbound's Boundless: An Anti-Colonial Advent Devotional, and the UCC's Abolition Advent Calendar. Cole Arthur Riley (Black Liturgies) is doing an Advent series on her Patreon. Jan Richardson posts art and poetic blessings throughout the year.

In terms of books, I recommend:

Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas

Preparing for Christmas (Richard Rohr)

Celtic Advent (David Cole)

WinterSong (Madeleine L'engle & Luci Shaw)

Advent for Exiles (Caroline Cobb)

If you want poetry: Accompanied by Angels (Luci Shaw). 

I'll tell you a secret—most devotionals are meant to be read every day, but no one will know if you don't do that. You can start them at any time and read as much as you like whenever you like. Don't not start one because you don't think you'll be regular about it. 

And of course, you don't need a book to say "Advent" on the front for it to be an Advent book—or music or anything else. I'm about to start God Hunger: Discovering the Mystic in All of Us (John J. Kirvan) which I picked up at a book sale but it's on the Internet Archive! I'm drawn to poetry and Marian hymns in this season, and things that talk about the end of the world and prophecy. Whatever Advent is to you, surround yourself with it—and anything you're just starting to think about, you can explore.

The beautiful news is? The years spiral on, and Advent returns. Every year we're confronted with it, and every year I never do exactly what I wanted. But I've found some stuff to bring with me, some books to reread, things I know further my practice and things that don't. And when the spiral returns to this distinctive place of waiting for something already in our hearts, of hoping for something we don't understand, of inviting in someone who has already snuck in like a thief in the night, we can try again.

So happy Advent, and may yours be visibly, tangibly, purposefully Advent. May you be the impractical kind of hopeful and the holy kind of scared. Christmas is a miracle slowly being tended (rather than Easter's miracle erupting from the ground)—not that there's no blood, no surprise, but that for nine months Life itself grew quietly. So keep watch. Make your life a womb, make your Advent a narrowing toward the humanity God enters. Tend the darkness and bring in some light—a candle is just a way to do that, but there's so much light in the world. Here's to finding it.

<3 Johanna

[chere-indolente]

Newlyn Fisher Clothing Set

I come to you today with this little historical seaside fashion interlude (before going back to work on more 1880′s sets). This set includes cable knit sweaters in high and low waisted, and variations on traditional fishermen smocks. More pics and download below

This set is partly inspired by the works of the school of Newlyn, a group of painters known to have depicted the surrounding of Newlyn, a Cornish coastal town, and its many fishermen in the 1880′s to 1900′s. And here is the painting that I referenced in the promo picture.

—————————  Cableknit Sweater  ————————

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This is the sweater from the Werewolf pack without the little laced up strings on the shoulders (why do you always add these unnecessary details EA ? 😅). I’ve made a short version (S) for my high waisted needs and a long (L) version, for both masc and fem frames, as well as both adult and children. 

Cableknit sweaters originated from Ireland, in the Aran Islands, though other types of knitted jumpers called gansey already existed in the British, Irish and Channel isles. They were created between the 1890′s and 1900′s. They were initially knitted with unwashed and undied wool. Both the natural lanolin from the virgin wool and the knitted patterns made for water resistant sweaters and as such : good alternatives to the previously used ganseys made of oiled wool died with indigo.

 These Aran sweaters slowly became some fashionable sportswear item during the 20′s and 30′s, and later reached its peak popularity in the 50s’ and 60′s worn by the likes of Grace Kelly and Steve McQueen.

40 solid swatches

for adults and children

2 lenghts : S & L

——————————— Vareuse V1 ——————————

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Vareuses are a style of fishermen smocks with a V neck. This style was typical of Brittany fishermen though I have seen depiction of Norwegian fishermen for example sporting this style of smocks on 1880s paintings too. While I couldn’t find substancial informations on their origins and date of appereance, vareuses seem to have been used at least as far as mid 19th century and were still worn as work wear up til the mid 20th. 

It is said that traditionally fishers wore different colors depending on their fishing style : yellow ones for those shellfish picking, rust colored ones for those using fish traps, red ones for oyster farmers and blue ones for those fishing in the open seas.

Fishermen smocks were oiled to be water repellant and worn on top of clothes and knitted garments to protect them from water and keep them relatively clean.

On this 1st version of the vareuse I’ve not put any clothing “underneath” to allow for warm weather and for combinations with accessory shirts or turtlenecks.

33 solid swatches

for adults and children

——————————— Vareuse V2 ——————————

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This 2nd version of a vareuse include a cableknit jumper sticking out of the V neck collar. The set also includes an overlay to pick the color of said cableknit jumper.

33 solid swatches

39 solid swatches on the cableknit overlay (located in the right wrist section)

for all ages

—————————  Cornish Crewneck  ————————

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Similarly to the vareuse, the crewneck is a style of fishermen smocks. This style is traditionally associated with Cornwall, in the north west of England. Cornish crewneck smocks were used similarly to vareuses.

33 solid swatches

for all ages

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Download : dropbox — simfileshare

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[phospadparadscha]

Church dance + Gems au = accidental near-fusion???

And now, for the main event: Black Opal, the fusion of an Orange Pearl (Kim Kitsuragi) and mystery gem (Harry Du Bois). Below is a reference I made:

Black Opal, the fusion of Harry and Kim as part of my Disco Elysium / Steven Universe crossover AU. I really wanted to lean into the nostalgia and adrenaline junkie aspects of both characters. The conclusion I came to was a 70s biker. I think every time I've seen a picture of someone's american dad back when they were younger, it was a guy with insane facial hair and a homoerotic biker fit, which lead me to this as the aesthetic for a fusion of these two. These are black opals, for reference:

As a fusion, they both struggle to speak as a singular being. They are not a very stable fusion, mostly due to Harry's damaged gem and how quickly they both can diverge from each other in action and personality. When they do agree however and can maintain Black Opal, its the aspect of themselves that brings out the daring qualities of the other; the one that says "hold on!" and presses their foot on the accelerator, the one that revs their engine, the one that brings a boombox to a boat ride. After a while Black Opal is able to assimilate both aspects of Kim and Harry, as seen in the last panel where his enthusiastic and showboating personality (which both Harry and Kim posses individually in different ways) becomes more like a singular being, like other fusions in the show.

I arranged their limbs and eyes according to where I think they diverge in terms of personality and what they try to accomplish as a fusion / where their interests conflict. This seems to be the case for fusions in Steven Universe as well, where the less harmonious a fusion is, the less proportional the limbs and eyes are to a human body. Harry and Kim have divergences in their eyes and in their forearms. While physically they follow each other in a common goal, Harry and Kim have different ways of handling the world and diverge in their sense of interfacing. Kim has a delicate touch generally, while Harry tends to brute force his way through obstacles. They also have divergent eyes; They both see the world very differently and have different reactions to the same stimulus. Besides these two divergences, they are a fairly harmonious fusion physically.

This is Kim's first fusion, meanwhile Harry has fused before with multiple people from Precinct 41 and his ex, but due to his amnesia he doesn't remember that he has.

Harry and Kim are both basically in historical cosplay throughout the entire game, and I liked the idea of them both being a fusion that dresses in an outdated and charming way as well, like a person out of time. Black Opal as a gemstone I chose because the rainbow coloration of Harry's pale damage on his gem would intermingle with Kim's orange pearl, while the orange and green of the two of them mixed as colors would be a darker muddy color. Thus, this would equate to a dark gem with rainbow coloration inside. Opals tend to be porous as well, which I found fitting for Harry's eroded gemstone.

I love how Harry and Kim have whack-ass facial hair in game and I wanted to give them both an insane facial hair combo. The leather jacket is basically a combination of Harry's green disco blazer and Kim's orange bomber jacket. Kim's gloves become biker's gloves, the "tie" from Harry is the bandana they both wear around their mullet with buzzed sides. They're wearing these big biker's boots, which are drawn largely from Kim's boots in game. Kim has a ton of little compartments to his clothes, so I liked the idea of there being a bunch of zippers everywhere. I'd have put even more and drawn on some patches but my hand was starting to fall off from drawing so for now this is it.

I'll definitely be drawing more of this fusion and for this AU in the future but if you guys have suggestions, ideas, art requests for the crossover let me know. The tag for posts about this au is "disco universe".

Below are some of the clothing and aesthetics I referenced while drawing Black Opal:

[ohwolfling]

Waterdeep Style & Culture (part one)

I've been working on pinning down some aesthetics/cultures connected to Baldur's Gate 3 and the Forgotten Realms in general. Y'all voted that you'd like to see my ideas on Waterdeep FIRST so here ya go.

I (and many others) have spoken about Gale Dekarios being INCREDIBLY Greek coded, even before you find out the Dekarios bit. So in my mind, Waterdeep is deeply Greek coded. First, Chessenta does exist in Faerûn and is very openly Hellenistic/Greek inspired.

There will be pretty pictures & stuff, promise, but first let's talk about concepts of Greek myth & early society & how it relates to our Wizard of Waterdeep.

Themes/Ideals

Art and artistry served the gods and gods made people in their image and of course in Greek mythology gods and especially demigods loved to be a mess in, on, around, or about mere mortals. The parallels there are obvious… Gale speaks first of feeling the Weave, of composing with it. It’s art and artistry to HIM, regardless of any limitations, codes, or creeds Mystra or anyone else might try to put around it. Another parallel is the concept of Arete. Arete refers to the journey to personal excellence. It’s a belief that everyone is called to be the absolute best version of themself, with the acknowledgement that that is different for every living creature, and from person to person. Do we perhaps know a wizard who takes that perhaps too seriously and has been historically manipulated and controlled around that concept? Hmmmm.

Aesthetics

Greek Arts

Mosaics, Tiles, painted everything. Bold and natural. There’s a sharp contrast between the fine lines of Waterdeep’s architecture, the precision needed for its docks, its ships, and the boldness of its artistry, applied to all things. Art is meant to be seen, experienced. And all art there needs to survive winds and storms all kissed with the salt of the sea. 

My general idea of seafaring/fisherman communities and the specificity of Greek inspiration, especially mosaics, leads me to imagine a Waterdeep that utilizes clear motifs, themes, and symbols. You can already see from the photos I selected above that images reflect the natural surroundings but also lend themselves to myth. Even in busier, more detailed work, there are figures that STAND OUT! 

Clothing (symbols, structure, some talk of status, jewelry below)

Here’s an excerpt from a fic where I have Gale lay out a typical, representative Waterdeep dinner. Here, I utilized my ideas about folk/mythological symbolism and its use in even an artistry most of us don't event think about, dishware and such:

“Come and see,” Gale extends a hand, unnecessary for a walk through the foyer and kitchen and into the dining area but Tav takes it eagerly.  Tav gives a genuine sigh of awe at the table before her. This gladdens him. He meets her own sigh with one of his relief. She lets go of his hand to circle the table.  It was simple illusory magic but Gale took care in making a series of ethereal fish in blues and golds seemingly swimming just above the scene, a few of them circling playfully around the candelabra in the center of the table. The table itself Gale had lain with a gold runner with embroidered blue waves and copper boats along its length, a very old tapestry motif that had been popular in Waterdeep before Gale’s time. Still, it was handmade with care by his own grandfather. He resists the urge to tell Tav this in great detail, wanting instead to be present. He focuses on how charmed Tav seems by the space. On either side of the candelabra Gale had placed two wine goblets, bronze with inlaid seahorses the likes of which donned ships during Waterdeep’s parade seasons, which Tav had not yet experienced. A carafe sat on the corner of the table, covered in hand painted seahorses of a less stylized nature.

Clothing

symbols and structures

I think these symbols extend to clothing as well, perhaps less on the day to day (though I don’t think Waterdeep has a concept of being overdressed in so far as having prints, patterns, and embroidered details go). Embroidery is reminiscent of the mosaic and tile arts, taking turn with repetitive detail or focusing in on one figure or symbol. I won't get too much into jewelry for now but I do think small jewelry pieces might be used to signify rank and status in various arenas of Waterdeep life (and this is something that happens in a few magic school campaigns for Forgotten Realms), using specific coins or beads to communicate anything from authority to "first time caster, please be kind" and "this bard breaks suddenly to jam" to which district a person is representing. This is an especially impactful idea to me because I imagine that Gale may have given up all these other pieces, including signifiers of House Dekarios and his achievements at Blackstaff to solely represent Mystra once he became Chosen. I've also included some of Elia Fernandez's ASOIAF women art because of the specific way they use house sigils. Dynamic, colorful symbols.

I imagine summers are hot so you want clothes to have enough structure to SERVE and to have a base if you want to strip down OR add light linens for more protection from the sun. I want to combine the silhouettes we see from ancient Greece- cloaks and tunics and, yes, shapes similar to the Roman toga- with the flowing structure we see of the wizard robes we encounter in Baldur’s Gate 3. 

As a note, I think Waterdeep- partly by virtue of having so many places where people go to train as monks, bards, wizards, etc so having a huge uniformed student population, partly by virtue of having a canon drag scene- considers most pieces of fashion to be non-gendered. So any of the silhouettes included here, be they skirts, deep Vs, corsets, underbust details, etc, I'm assuming are flexible to and socially normal/accepted for any gender expression.

Lastly (for this round), here's a color palette for our Waterdeep aesthetics thus far.

I have a part two outlined that I hope I'll get to soon! It will be influenced by another island culture with a rich art/textile history and open us up to more fashion subcultures and how they reflect the working class and more physical studies of Waterdeep.

Feel free to let me know what else you might be interested in a series like this. Would you like more jewelry? Are you interested in interiors? any other specific elements of culture you'd like aesthetics for? Any time periods irl speak to you when you think of Waterdeep?

Thank you to those who voted to see this first and to anyone who reblogs or chit chats. If you'd like to support my sanity and so make it easier for me to do bigger fun things like this, I'm on ko-fi and Twitch and won't look a donation or support horse in the mouth.

[nic0-r0bs]

I am writing my 7DS fanfiction about the other Arthurian knights and legends.

But since I have to tie it up with NNT, I am re-writing some of the canon scenes. And since it got me thinking, I've decided to change a thing or two:

CHARACTERS

- Meliodas won't be groping Elizabeth every other second because SHE IS A MINOR AND HE'S KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS A CHILD, I DON'T CARE IF THEY'VE MET IN A HUNDRED LIVES, IT'S GROSS. I will have him respectfully keep distance, looking at her with love more than lust, partly because he doesn't want Elizabeth to get her memories back so soon by falling in love with him. When she will get her memories back, he'll be touchy as he wants (which is, a lot).

- He'll look a bit older too. I understand that he was supposed to represent the usual shonen teenage protagonist, but I don't see the issue, actually. He'll still be a short king, of course, because we need short kings.

- Diane won't be portrayed as a 15-year-old girl mentally. Just… no. She's 1500 Years and a mercenary, I refuse to have her behave like a child (and then having seven children). Her crush on Meliodas will be more mature, too.

- Elaine will look a bit older. I mean, like Meliodas, short people who look younger exist and are totally valid, but she's p3do bait and just… no.

- Mael will be central because I find that his character arc had SO MUCH MORE potential but they kinda just... forgot him? But it would have been so interesting to see him dealing with PTSD and paranoia, not knowing if what he sees and experiences is real or not, and all the moral dilemma lf finding out that he's been raised to be a weapon but everything he believed in was a lie. Also he never truly wanted to fight and k1ll, but then he committed atrocities while being Estarossa and... I don't know, I think it would have been great seeing him having a proper development and healing. Because I fell in love with 7DS because everyone there is a sinner, everyone is evil somehow, everyone committed something terrible (with the only exception of Howzer), but we learn to love and root for those characters because they're complex... Or at least used to be.

- Also it would be nice to explore Gowther gender identity and expression and make it more complex, wouldn't it?

WORLDBUILDING

- Since all my OCs are described wearing things that would be common in the VI century (around Arthurian period, "historically" speaking) (btw, I've had fun seeing what Celts were wearing during that time… Women were fighters and would also wear trousers), or, at least, in a fantasy setting, the original characters clothes will be a bit different, too. The Boar Hat uniform will be different, because I refuse to let Meliodas lewd on an innocent and clueless sixteen-year-old Elizabeth.

- Regarding the lore… I had a bit of fun. In my fanfiction, the Sacred Tree will be a "spawn" of Yggdrasil. I imagine Chaos creating the Universe with different worlds and the Yggdrasil connecting them. It just happens that one of its roots developed its own tree in Britannia, opening portarls to other realms: the Demon realm (in Cornwall, since in Arthurian era there were the Dumnonii, whose name resemble the word "Demon"); the Sky realm (both of Goddess clan and of the Celestials); the Fairy realm (the Tree being a portal) and the Giants realm (Megadoza stone being a portal).

- Also, there are the Ragnarok chapters in the mobile game, so that's the perfect excuse to put them there as well.

- Since there's different "parallel universes" I've also thought that time will pass differently in different realms. Faster in Britannia and slower anywhere else (since also in Purgatory time flows differently). This is mainly because this Whole "I'm three thousand Years old dating a literal child in my eyes" gives me the ick. I'm talking about Meliodas, King and Elaine especially. I also find that in some cases the math doesn't add, if you look at some character's official age (I'm looking at you, Estarossa/Mael, you're even 20cm taller when you're a Demon).

- And yeah, since I like history and mythology a bit too much I may include a bit of geopolitics of the British isles in the IV century and Celtic culture as well.

Anyway, this project has been fun until now, but since I'm not writing it in a linear way, it's time to work into the canon to tie everything together.

I may write a part 2 about my OCs, in the meantime let me know if you have some headcanons which you want to share!

Also hopefully I'll post some new drawings

[enigma2meagain]

RWBY Relic Pieces in Volume 1, Symbolism of the Pieces, and How It Ties To the Broader Narrative.

Did a quick searchup on the symbolism of chess pieces, and taking what I saw into consideration (note that this is very abridged, and possibly not entirely correct):

CRDL and the Black Bishop

Bishops are representative of religion, as well as spirituality, morality, and wisdom, and a direct reference to Cardin's mythological reference, the Cardinal of Winchester. In regards to the broader narrative that RWBY sets up, he can be considered V1's partial representation of the institution of Huntsmen, more specifically the deeply flawed and darker side standing opposite to the better/neutral aspects of Huntsmen that RWBY/JNPR represent, due to being a racist bully who stands against Grimm, yet also willfully persecutes and harms the people he's supposed to fight for, such as minority groups like Faunus and (given Jaune at this point is basically a civilian in huntsmen's clothing and training wheels) the people depending on the circumstances. Also acts as a form of foreshadowing to the other deeply flawed or outright bad huntsmen we'd come to see later in the series, as well as highlighting the lack of wisdom and morality that can blight the institutions that Huntsmen are supposed to be, represent and protect.

The Black pieces in chess always move second, which highlights how the Huntsmen are a highly reactive organization, and how this severely limits their ability to truly tackle the bigger problems regarding threats like the Grimm, Salem, society's deep internal problems, and in the bigger picture, Ozpin's divine mission.

JNPR and the White Rook

Rooks are representative of the land, being symbolic of the fortress that guards a city or land and its royalty, and how they essentially "guard" the other pieces, as well as representing stability. The majority of JNPR come from civilians compared to the likes of RWBY, with this becoming completely the case after Pyrrha's death and Oscar's inclusion, and they're shown consistently throughout the series as having the strongest connections to civilians on a personal level. They also frequently as the bedrock and stabilizing influence, through Jaune, Nora and Ren's friendships and roles as supporting characters. Being white pieces also highlights how as time goes on, they would develop an increasingly proactive role through the questioning of the narrative told to them by the metaphorical "royals" (in this case, Ozpin's secret circle) and the latter's failure to actually protect them.

This is especially notable in regards to Jaune, Nora, and from a story perspective Ren, given how the former consistently questions Ozpin and his inner circle's shadier actions throughout most of V4 - V8, and Nora and Ren were failed miserably and made orphans due to the lack of huntsmen and the society around them failing to protect them, while putting them into a situation where their only recourse is to become part of the system that failed them.

RWBY and the White Knight

Knight pieces are representative of the medieval military, fitting given the status of Huntsmen, as well as being considered adventurous, valorous, and unpredictable due to their unique fighting style allowing them a level of unpredictability that other pieces don't have, fitting of how RWBY are the main proactive force to pushing Ozpin and the true nature of the secret war against Salem out into uncharted territory, forcing them to actually change and grow.

Knights are also often historically drawn from nobility, much like how every major character in RWBY has some kind of tie to Remnant's most illustrious groups or some kind of major player (Ruby and Yang being part of major Huntsmen lineages, Weiss being a rich heiress to the most powerful corporation in the world, and Blake being effectively the Princess of the Faunus, as well as having ties to the most prominent civil rights activists and movements in all iterations of the White Fang).

Much like JNPR, they are far more proactive compared to the royals they serve, actively pushing the latter outside their comfort zone in a two-pronged attack alongside JNPR, but the series also strives to highlight and deconstruct the messier aspects of their relationship as huntsmen (and thus a form of warrior caste/mercenary, with the following tension in that relationship with the people they are trying to protect) and how the unpredictable nature of their changes results in as much positive and messier forms of change, for better or worse.

This got way longer than I thought it would.

[greml1nb0i]

https://www.tumblr.com/greml1nb0i/768411560382283776/the-hazbin-leaks-show-that-s2-will-only-get-worse

1. That Sir P trying to commit suicide made me irk so much. Also I find it bullshit that him doing that because he misses his friends considering that we didn't see any much of interaction between him and other casts

2. I agree with Sir Pentious's backstory and his sin being and I also find it very out of character tbh? Like when we first see him he's cartoonshly evil villian who would do anything to have a power. Everyone assumed that he was likes this even before his death but turns out he's....lonely man who didn't had any friends and didn't socialize. When?? Since when he was like that but changed after he went to hell????

3. "not everyone is going to act like a macho hero when they see a damn murder" THANK 👏 YOU 👏

Seriously, I couldn't say it better myself. Him not speaking out because him being afraid that he would get killed too is %100 human behavior. Like what did Viv expect him to do when she was writing his backstory? Do a superman act?? I can already see fandom act like he's a horrible person for not do anything about a damn murder even though he had right to be scared of for his sake. And I would like to add that even he did try to speak up, no one would've believed in him because he didn't have any proof or evidence of the murder and who murdered a person. He was anti social and didn't had any friends in his past life so I'm pretty sure that no one would've believed him.

4. Ah yes, him saving Cherri Bomb even though him and her have zero chemistry is a perfect way to sent him heaven. Great job, Viv /sarcasm

5. I find Pentious and Alastor's human design pretty decent in my opinion. Sure, the clothes don't look exactly in their period time but at least it's not overdesigned or too much red considering the fact that Viv's character design is either overdesigned or covered in red that you can't even see the character. I'm okay with it if you disagree with me for this though.

6. When I'm in a "putting my characters into different time periods even though I searced nothing about time periods" and my opponent is Vivziepop.

According to Vivzie, it's too much work for searching informations about time periods in Google search. Are you really this lazy, Viv?

going in order

the only person i can even see him caring about is Cherri cuz, ig he has a crush on her? but still its insane how Viv expects us to believe these characters would even get along.

exactly thank you, his backstory makes no sense, when compared to how we are introduced to him. Like i got Black hat vibes from him, only to have that idea crushed by Viv's poor writing choices.

:D *Maui.exe*, in all seriousness though, agreed. i feel like Viv just wanted to have a random historical figure in her character story, just so she didn't have to be bother with dates. which is honestly really really fricking lazy. She really doesnt care for basic levels of character design.

FACTS thank you, i regret not mentioning that. There is no way Sir P and Cherri would even speak to each other without Sir P being extremely sexist. He's from the 1800s and Viv expects him to be civil with a woman from the 80s-90s THAT WEARS PANTS, something that didn't start happening til WELL past his death, and Cherri's party girl mindset. No fucking way Viv.

i respect your opinion and i can agree, that they aren't over designed, which is honestly an improvement from Viv. I feel like if had to describe it, their under-designed to me. Not really fitting in where they're meant to. Ofc if you like them, i don't have an issues with it, they aren't my designs.

that got a chuckle out of me, based yet again

[science-fiction-is-real]

(I’m hoping not to start drama with this ask but I saw you ask someone what’s wrong with Solarpunk and they gave a horrible answer to what Solarpunk is) so Solarpunk is about being against capitalism and consumerism. It’s about being able to have the right to repair, repair your electronics, repair you clothes, and trying to help lower our impact on the Earth. So like stopping plastics, and instead use things that are truly biodegradable if we are to continue that way of convenience. It’s about stop using fossil fuels so the climate crisis will slow down to a stop so ya know. We would stop living in a major extinction event. Solarpunk is being able to merge our technology and nature so we’re being to live in coexist while still having our advances. It’s about community and being able to grow our own food and share it with others. May it be with community gardens or buildings in cities with vertical farms. Genuinely it’s not just an aesthetic and people are trying to fight against capitalism (hence the Punk) but people do create art and write literature about it as people can imagine a better future when it’s being created in art. (Like seriously automatic doors weren’t created until after people saw it as a possibility on Star Trek when it first aired.)

Again just wanted to clear up what Solarpunk is.

For those trying to follow the conversation at home, this is in response to a question I submitted to ML blogger @forevergulag about why they dislike Solar Punk. I think the answer I got from them makes a lot of sense. So I will simultaneously be running defense for their answer while offering some of my own opinions.

On to my response to this ask.

All those things you describe are well and good, but if your goal is to fight capitalism, it isn't enough to be punk. It isn't enough to be "anti-consumerist." You need to begin with a solid class analysis. You need to put our current forms of production and consumption in the context of historical development. Actually dismantling capitalism is not "punk." It's boring and difficult and it takes many generations. The first steps in building a non-capitalist world often end up looking a lot like capitalism itself.

I think a lot of what you are describing is finding alternative forms for food production, which is certainly a useful exercise... there are a lot of problems with modern food production. It would be great if there were efficient ways to incorporate food production into urban environments, find ways of growing food that don't rely toxic pesticides and fertilizers or acres-wide crop mono cultures.

However, I feel like a lot of what you are describing seems to revolve around DOWN SCALING food production, a terrible idea, and bringing a lot of non-farm workers into food production, and taking them away from their other jobs, also a terrible idea.

When you say "Our community should be able to grow our own food" I can't help but imagine the sort of small scale community I often see fetishized in some anarchist spaces. I would point out that the farmer sitting on a tractor 300 miles away from you growing your food is also part of your community. And a giant industrial farm that produces more corn than you could ever possibly know what to do with, that too is your community growing its own food.

We can't fight capitalism simply by urbanizing agriculture or bringing it down to a more local scale. And in fact, localizing agriculture and downscalling agriculture is going to have the effect of reducing food production so I am not sure that's really what we want.

[mynnthia]

hypothesis on the ethnic/cultural background of izutsumi's mom

[disclaimer: i am not a professional ethnographer, nor of any of the ethnic groups mentioned in the post. this post was written based on research done over the course of a day.

if you have any corrections, feedback, etc, please feel free to inform me! my inbox/dms are open. if there is any misinformation present, i aim to correct them] ----------

idk if anyone else into dungeon meshi has noticed this, but i think izutsumi's mom (and therefore, izutsumi herself) might've been of Nivkh (indigenous east Siberian) heritage?

[details and explanation under the readmore, its slightly long]

when dungeon meshi chapter 59 came out (~2019), i saw a few people speculating that izutsumi's mom might've been Ainu because of how her clothing style notably differed from typical Japanese clothing.

while the Nivkh robe's trim features a different pattern style (swirly) than what izutsumi's mom wears (triangular), the Nivkh robe still looks to be a closer match than Ainu robes, especially in the collar/neckline & sleeve cuff areas.

note how the Ainu robes (image 2) have a different neckline style and wider sleeves:

heres more images of the robes, but from the past this time, found in Wikimedia Commons:

image 1: Nivkh robe from 1871 image 2: Sakhalin Ainu girl (left), Nivkh boy (center), Hokkaido Ainu girl (right) in 1912

Nivkh people have had interactions with Japan dating back centuries too. heres an exerpt from wikipedia:

"For many centuries, the Nivkh were tributaries of the Manchus. After the Treaty of Nerchinsk in 1689, they functioned as intermediaries between the Russians, Manchu and Japanese, and also the Ainu, who were vassals of the Japanese. Early contact with the southern Sakhalin Ainu was generally hostile, although trade between the two was apparent"

(sorry historians for quoting wikipedia as a source here. a lot of the more reputable sources are 20-200+ page papers, and not concise enough to put on a tumblr post)

the English language wiki doesnt have much more detail on Nivkh-Japan relations unfortunately, but there seems to be more info on the Japanese language version of the page.

i've also seen at least 1 speculation that izutsumi's mom might be Mongolian, as her robe somewhat resembles a Mongolian deel. in my opinion, the robe's neckline trim having patterning makes it resemble the Nivkh robes more. this – combined with the fact that prior to the 1900s, Japan-Mongolia relations consisted mostly of Mongolian forces trying to invade japan repeatedly – makes me think Nivkh (or some other indigenous east Siberian) heritage is more likely.

i wont rule it out entirely though, as i don't know how much Ryōko Kui cares about historical-based cultural relations. regardless, here are various deel styles across different Mongolian ethnic groups, if that is of interest to anyone:

i dont really have a profound conclusion for this post tbh. i wanted to document what i found, and figured i might as well share it to tumblr.

theres limited amounts of easily accessible information on traditional eastern Siberian clothing out there, but here's 1 source i found that goes over a few groups (including Nivkh):

[drconstellation]

All The Colours In Good Omens: Version II

Part 1: Black to Gold

Even when I put together my original big colour meta back at the end of October 2023 I knew things were going to change on it. Over time it became pretty clear we were way off-track with several of the colours, and I didn't have anything for orange, which does actually appear in a significant amount in S2. There was also a bit of effort to try and incorporate the colours seen in S1 with what was appearing in S2, and to see if there was any consistency. Then I wrote the Passion of Jimbriel, and several particular religiously-themed colour-associations kept appearing, so I went on a search for a more biblical-based interpretation of colour. As a result of this, some colours have more-or-less stayed the same, some have expanded considerably in their range of meaning, and some are completely different! But I think you find the results interesting, nonetheless.

Basically, interpreting the colours in the two series is not a simple task. The colours used in S2 differ slightly to S1. For example, in S2 there is a lurid green associated with Hell (for reasons, which I will explain,) that is not used in S1. But there is also a dark green used elsewhere that turns out to have a different meaning that is not associated with Hell at all, so context becomes very important when trying to decide what it means. Rather than try and fit all the colours into one post, I'm going to split things up and take as much room as I need to explain it all this time.

BLACK

Biblical Meaning: Darkness, sin, Earth, affliction, humiliation, calamity, death, mourning

Additional: Suffering, punishment, Satan

Black doesn't automatically mean a relationship with Hell. The demons don't all wear entirely black, they are actually dressed in a lot of colour, but they do tend towards the darker shades. The colours they do wear reflect individual qualities or characterizations. For example, Lord Dagon is dark blue to reflect their fish god avatar, but it also reflects their senior authority and power. Furfur is in shades of dark green with a few tiny red highlights.

Historically black had an association with wealth over time, as it was difficult to obtain and dye black cloth. In out modern era we would tend to associate it with power and authority - or just looking "cool."

One interesting combination to mention is Aziraphale's magician's costume - black, gold and white. It's the only time we see him, an angel, wearing black. Originally it looked like he was clothing himself in mystery, but I would now say its a combination of calamity and humiliation. I've included a GIF set from S1E1 with the duo discussing Warlock's 11th birthday party in the park, plus recall Arizaphale was heckled from the audience in 1941 when his turnip trick failed. (I guess we could argue this one, its still up for debate!)

Black is also associated with the Horseperson Famine, who rides a black horse. Nobody is getting anything to eat tonight here - or the rest of the week, for that matter.

RED

We originally had red a a single colour, but it's more complex than that and needs to be split into two shades, scarlet and the darker crimson. (I will do pink in another post.)

We can still associate it generally with passion, romance, the Left Hand Side (the sinister side or demonic side), goats, sin, and the archangel Michael on the LHS of Jesus.

The Horseperson War and their parallel character Pepper from the Them both wear red as well. War is said to ride a red horse.

RED - Scarlet

Biblical Meaning: Royalty, blood of humanity

Additional: Martyrs, prostitution, wealth, power, revolution

Scarlet is a lighter red than crimson, just to differentiate between the two colours. It's the colour on the back of Crowley's collar.

Jesus was dressed in red during the Passion to mock him as a king, but he when he appears in imagery such as the sign on the Resurrectionist pub below it reflects his future status as King of kings. It also reflects his connection to humanity, through the blood he shed.

Prostitution is connected through the mention of the Whore of Babylon in Revelations, but the connection to revolutions is a more recent one that may be worth including in anticipation of S3. Wealth and power also belong here, particularly in historical connections.

RED - Crimson

Biblical Meaning: Splendor, victory, sin

Crimson is the colour that Shax wears, the darker of the two shades of red. She comes across as being hungry for success and eager for promotion, both of which tie in with the concept of victory. Her darker red is also mixed with black.

ORANGE

Biblical Meaning: Fire of God, deliverance, passionate praise

Additional: sacrifice

Originally I did not have an interpretation for orange, and did not think there was a lot of it present in S2. Then it was pointed out that Maggie's shopfront was orange, she herself wears orange several times, a lot of the extras wear orange and Beezlebub's sash is orange, too!

Yellow and orange have some cross-over in meaning with sacrifice, but I'm going to do my best to separate them and I'll explain where the fuzziness comes into play in yellow, as I think it sits best there.

Both yellow and orange are also associate with fire, as flames are seen as yellow and orange, not red. The "Fire of God" is alluding to presence of the Holy Spirit.

YELLOW

Biblical Meaning: Faith and Glory of God, anointing, joy, presence of God, fire

Additional: Illness/leprosy, God's judgement and anger, sacrifice, optimism, faithfulness in awaiting the return of a loved one

Yellow is probably the most controversial colour of the spectrum. It's the colour of Crowley's eyes, and we know Aziraphale painted the walls of the bookshop to reflect this.

But let's turn all your preconceived ideas on their heads.

It's one of the colours of fire, so it is closely associated with the presence of God, but also the expression of God's anger.

It is the colour of clear olive oil used for anointing.

On the negative side it is associated with illness, in particular with leprosy.

It is the colour that the traitor Judus Iscariot is often depicted wearing in art.

And it is the colour of saffron and marigolds, both associated with sacrifice in more than one religion. Saffron as a colour can vary in colour from pale yellow to deep orange, and so can marigolds the flower. The flower is named after the Virgin Mary, as in "Mary's-gold," and the array of petals are supposed to be symbolic of the the rays of light that crown her head, relating to the giving of her self to the Ineffable Great Plan, so to speak.

Here's Norman, leader of the yellow team at Tadfield Manor, giving his speech that includes the line "...bugger off and tend to your marigolds." I've shown in other posts that there is the allegory of the Great War/Glorious Revolution being played out here, and Norman is the analogue of Lucifer. Right after his speech he runs out and is felled by a shot to the heart: a sacrificial loser, as all the yellow team and demons end up being.

Adam wears a t-shirt with two yellow stripes on it in S1. Combined with the blue, he does appear to be anointed for a larger role in the story.

Aziraphale's hat-bands are yellow after the 1827 Edinburgh incident. Both in 1862 and 1941 his hats have a yellow ribbon around them. While this could be related to a Heavenly aspect, fanon has it that it's part of his expression of his feelings for Crowley. The tradition of using a yellow ribbon to show that one was waiting for a soldier to return from war was started around the late 1700's.

It is confirmed that the name of the colour used inside the bookshop is indeed called Va Va Voom. While it could be many things, the one thing it is not is fear.

Neither is this example - it's more likely to be fire - cleansing fire. Jim is cleaning with it.

GOLD

Biblical Meaning: Glory, divinity, holiness, eternal deity, altar, beauty, precious, kingship, majesty, righteousness

Additional: Trial of Faith

Gold is usually associated with Heaven and the divinity of the angels in Good omens. Most of the time we see the angels with some trace of gold on them. The most obvious examples were the golden collars and trim on the robes in the Job minisode in S2E2. They even wore golden sandals on their feet.

The archangels and Aziraphale all have their golden rings. Here is Michael with their ophanim ring.

We also have the golden lions that occur in several locations in S2, representing the royal house of Judea that Jesus is said to belong to.

The most interesting use of gold has been on Crowley's "throne" in S1. "Nice chair," Hastur comments at one point.

Oh, and I can't forget this one, either:

This series on colour continues in the following posts:

Part 2: Green to Purple

Part 3: Silver/Grey, White & Brown

Part 4: Tartan Colours Review

[ourimpavidheroine]

For those of you that still read my fic (HA!) I want you to know that I have completely finished 4 chapters of a 6 chapter fic. It's called The Sun is in the Western Sky; Or the Coronation of Firelord Juziya, and that's exactly what it is, Wu's diary POV. Six days of it, set in the summer of 190 (so Sayuri is 20 months, Meili is 9, Zhi is 12 and Naoki has just turned 16). Complete with teenage dragon, even.

Everybody is there, as per usual, and there will be clothes descriptions, drama (both domestic and otherwise), several parties, bets taken and won, hot weather, bending displays, politics, knives, fans and all sorts of the usual fun that you people sign up for.

I don't want to start posting it until I have at least the meat of chapters 5 and 6 written down, because I do not want to leave the fic hanging with its ass out in the wind like I've done before. But for those of you who are always asking me if I am ever going to do an actual chaptered fic again, please know that it is coming. I promise.

There's a little snippet under the cut. I reserve the right to make changes!

Republic City (en route to Hari Bulkan) Midsummer, Dragon Month, 9th Day, 190 AG

I must tell you, Progeny, that things were simpler when there were only three children and one spouse to prepare for royal occasions. To whit: preparing all four of my children plus both of my spouses to attend Firelord Izumi’s eightieth birthday celebration, where she will officially abdicate her throne to her granddaughter and heir, Crown Princess Juziya. Who will then, of course, be crowned.

I have known of it for quite some time; Juziya wrote Qi about it last year and Qi mentioned it to me. I say mentioned it to me because I am not privy to Qi and Juziya’s correspondence. They struck up a rather unheralded friendship four years ago when we all went to Ember Island for the New Year by Izumi’s request; Juziya attended our wedding (and I cannot even speak of what that abominable creature Bob did to her, I am quite sure I will never recover, wars have been fought over for less) and she and Qi have corresponded frequently ever since. I attempted to remonstrate with Qi that said correspondence should be preserved and collated for archival purposes - a Crown Princess and Royal Consort! - but Qi told me, and I quote, “They aren’t for you, so quit trying to get your grabby little hands on them.”

GRABBY LITTLE HANDS!

Do not blame me if you are unable to read what I am certain is historically pertinent, Progeny. My grabby hands and I are willing to suffer any and all insults for the sake of history but Qi quite refuses to budge. Nothing moved them. Perhaps I can bring it up with Juziya. I am certain at least she will understand the imperative of preservation. We are not the only ones going. Izumi extended the invitation to Tenzin and Su Beifong and their families as well, and of course Lin, although she will be coming with us. We will be taking the Republic City Beifongs as well as Korra and Asami (Korra is naturally invited to these sorts of things, the perks of being the Avatar), especially since I commissioned a new airship as soon as we got our official invitation. It was not out of the blue; I have always been very happy with the one Asami gave me all those years ago but I have known for some time it was simply too small to comfortably accommodate all of us, especially since we often include the family here in town. I of course know next to nothing about the specifications of airships but Qi and Captain Orino met with Asami and talked shop (as Qi always puts it) and Asami made one exclusively for us, which included enough deck space to facilitate various air bison and one very large (and opinionated) gold dragon. (I had thought a swimming pool would be a particularly enjoyable touch but was informed that it was a poor idea for an airship. All I have to say about that is that I am entirely certain they would have made it work if it had been my late and not remotely lamented Great-Aunt asking.) Naturally once it was finished I took charge and had it appropriately furnished, with staterooms for the entire family as well any guests we might be taking about. I have also hired both a permanent chef and steward to coordinate the temporary staff that my PR firm supplies us for our journeys. (Mako felt perfectly free to ask me if I was also going to hire a cruise director which I did not find particularly hilarious, thank you very kindly. As if a permanent chef and steward for one’s airship is somehow extraordinary! What are we to eat while we are traveling, Flameo Instant Noodles? Ridiculous. Are we to be the ones directing the temporary staff in setting our tables and making our beds? Simply absurd. Everyone knows that a steward on an airship is an eminently practical thing to have, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before.)

I have not worried overmuch about what Mako and Naoki would wear to the coronation itself; both of them have been given Samurai status by Izumi and although we are all there representing the House of Hou-Ting they will wear the appropriate armor as a sign of respect to both Firelords, old and new. It goes without saying that the other children and I will wear traditional Earth Kingdom robes. A coronation is a very formal event and naturally we will be wearing Imperial yellow. (It is not Meili’s best color, alas! But needs must.) I shall even pull out both of my official crowns and my court beads, and there are some traditional ornamentations for the children’s hair as well. Lin, I assume, will be dressed in her Beifong finery (I am certainly not going to ask her about it, I would like to live to see my next birthday) and LoLo always wears his dress naval uniform, there can be no complaint there!

The issue, of course, was Qi. I have tried on numerous occasions to ascertain what they are wearing to the coronation but they simply refuse to discuss it. I was informed that a)they were not a citizen of the Earth Kingdom but would instead represent Republic City, and b)our marriage contract forbade me from dictating what they would wear at any time. I could not countenance the speciousness of this declaration and immediately made a call to my lawyers. You can only imagine the utter shock I felt when I was informed that yes, indeed, that particular emendation had been part of the negotiated contract and I had signed off on it.

Progeny. You must know that I love Qi with every single breath in my body. However this is not the first time I have discovered some sort of deviousness in that contract. I blame the Beifongs for it. Everyone knows how they are! I went to have it out with Lin and she merely laughed in my face and told me that’s what I got for hiring a creaky old lawyer who wouldn’t, and I do quote, “…know his asshole from his elbow.” Vulgar!

I did not speak to her for an entire day. I wish I could say that it had distressed her but I had to give it up when it became painfully apparent she had neither noticed nor cared about my pointed silence.