#but i do want to channel this into something constructive or trying to fill the gap or just something

[leliwardens]

maybe when the dust settles and i get into less ongoing projects, maybe i'll org some kind of a "what should of been" creation event centered on putting prev game npcs/events/whatever into veilguard. i saw it once with a promised neverland zine about all the stuff missing from the anime from the manga. not sure if it'd be a zine but i want to do fucking something. :/

[bluegarners]

getting a tiny bit tired of the adamancy of the new fanony-but-think-its-canon take of dick being the absolutely rage filled robin. like yes, kind of? he was 9, his whole world just ended before his eyes, and his only way to process was through grief and anger bc nobody was taking a child seriously. additionally, the only person who wanted to help him at that time was also a man who was filled with a similar grief and anger and had learned to channel it in a violent way. of course dick grayson as robin resembled something as "angry" or "rage-filled" but that wasn't him too?? like, how to explain it...

the reversal of the fanon trope of dick being the "sunshiny" robin into someone angry and violent and out for blood is not the helpful shift many people think it is when trying to understand dick grayson as a character as a child. so much of fandom is turning characters very flat and not allowing them to experience two things at the same time or in fluctuating variances. which is. counterintuitive when trying to construct a cognitive map about them. having linear lines drawn for a character and keeping them in direct parallel to others, never letting them cross or intermingle, does the opposite of deepening understanding and depth of character.

what a lot of the "hot takes" i see about this very pivotal moment in dick's life focus on the rage as a very ongoing thing. i myself have touched on it a few times in metas and fics, and although i do believe dick's relationship with anger and how he responds to it is important to understanding his character, i do not believe it is a core aspect of it. yes, dick was angry as robin. he was angry bc his parents were taken from him in a very violent way for something that dick had very little understanding of. these are things that are obviously understandable to be angry about. heck, anger would not begin to describe the kind of feeling at having everything you've ever known be stripped away from you by something you had no part in or control over

but anger is not who dick grayson's robin was. his entire character is centered around hope and kindness and giving second chances. his character is about forgiveness and so many people brush over that part when laser focusing on his anger over the man that killed his family. one of the first things dick did as robin was go after and beat his parents' murderer, but he also stopped. he didn't beat that man to the point of killing him and he didn't go after him again once the man was put in prison. that may not seem like such a monumental thing but dick grayson forgave the man who took everything away from him in that simple action of stopping

by pulling him away from his anger, bruce gave dick a second chance at a life beyond that. and in return, dick never forgot that lesson and actively worked on and added to it. he became better because of his anger by practicing kindness, exercising restraint, and learning from his mistakes when things went too far

dick grayson as robin is more than just the violent night he cemented himself as a vigilante by catching his first murderer. his robin is about moving past it and being a symbol of hope for others who are lost in similar ways, showing them that there is a path beyond the grief and rage. that there is hope and light at the end of the long tunnel and it's okay if a little guidance is needed along the way to get there

[divine-crows]

🎨✨️Art Magic✨️🎨

Uses, Forms of it, and Why I Think Everyone Should Try it at Least Once.

Foreword

Right before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I had been trying and failing to rekindle my flame for magic work. No matter what I tried to do I just couldn't get back into my studies and I was reaching a point where I was convinced I lost my spark and was doomed to live an empty life. Then it all changed when a YouTube Channel challenged how I thought about everything: Molly Roberts. That's when I was opened to the possibility of art magic, and I'll now share my love of it with anyone willing to read on.

What Is Art Magic?

A means to utilize art for spellwork, raising magical energy, or for exploring your magical subconscious. It encapsulates multiple different types of art and is generally not confined by conventional expectation (unless that's what you prefer).

You can utilize art magic by. . .

Using traditional art methods

Digital art methods

Collages

Music composition

Jewelry making

Embroidery

And much more!

How do I know if Art Magic is Suitable for Me?

There isn't a specific thing that'll indicate this form of magic is perfect for you, however I have some anecdotes from my personal experience as both a witch, and a regular artist that form a sort of idea on what could denote this being perfect for you!

First off, craving freedom from personal restraints was a big factor that pushed me towards blending my craft with my passion for art. If you want to run from the monotony of life, if you feel trapped by the social construction of boxes, or if you simply want to challenge your own mental restraints... then this idea might resonate with you.

Challenging yourself with a new form of magic, similarly, can also be a good enough reason to try. I'm the type of person who loves to constantly learn new things and I unfortunately get bored really quickly if I can't get new source materials. Using Art Magic has proven a fun challenge for me that allows me to explore a lot more topics you can't just open a book to find.

For those that may not be able to safely perform a lot of traditional style spells, this form of magic provides a discreet way to practice witchcraft. Most people wouldn't really question someone if they picked up the hobby of making art, and even if they did there's plenty of reasonable excuses out there.

How you prefer your spells to manifest themselves can also affect if this journey is a good idea or not. I find that Art Magic is really good when it comes to subtle spellwork that is more longform (though depending on how you construct them you can definitely create a spell that's the opposite).

Catalog aspects of your magical journey. Imagine a grimoire filled with pages of drawings, each one telling a story of something you experienced or learned as a witch. This especially may be more beneficial for visual learners.

You could use it as a means of meditation, sometimes art can be calming and it can open the door to your mind (so-to-speak). Especially if you're like me and struggle with staying completely still while trying to clear your mind, this may be helpful for you.

Trying to better understand archetypes, deities, types of entities, or even your own self can also be a big part of this. I've used art magic as a way to embody the "energy" of something before so I could better understand it. Especially when you're trying to seek knowledge that isn't often written on, it can provide a great way to explore more.

How Can I perform an Art Spell?

I have a step-by-step process that can give you some insight on how you may approach it:

1) Think of the intention you want. I like to close my eyes and meditate on it for about a minute then I write down if my mind wandered to any specific imagery or ideas.

2) Think of visual symbolism and colors that can help you capture the mood you want. Perhaps you need a warm color palette to invoke positive feelings, or maybe there are specific objects or animals you can include on the composition that represent something.

3) If you feel it fits your composition, you can include sigils, symbols of significance, and include shapes that have certain associations. It doesn't even have to be obvious either. You can use a circular composition to convey something endless for example, or a triangular composition to show priority over something.

4) In general follow what your heart tells you. This is a little cliche, but ultimately follow what seems best to you. Art isn't about boxing yourself in and my guidelines are just general ideas for anyone who's lost!

Why do I think that everyone should try it at least once?

From my experiences as a witch, I find that a lot of paths to be followed are quite rigid. By no means am I implying that a rigid structure is bad-- it creates a foundation from which we can work upon. I myself am exploring rigid, 'traditional' (for lack of a better term) ways of working magic. Art magic pushes you out of your comfort zone in a safe way. It makes you consider how you associate things. It makes you create new sigils and makes you research new symbols you previously wouldn't have used.

So next time you're lost on a spell, or you've lost your way in your Craft and you don't know what to do, think about maybe giving Art Magic a try. I hope my guide was a helpful starting point for anyone interested in the topic!

[cheynovak]

Healing Waters - pt 5

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Azriel is sent by Rhysand to the Spring Court to investigate Tamlin's erratic behavior. While spying in the woods, he comes across Y/N, an Illyrian female bathing under a waterfall. Intrigued by her beauty and shocked to see the scars where her wings should have been, he is immediately captivated.

Warnings: 18+ish.... Hurt, pain, anger, nudity, spying, aggression, ...

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own fanfiction, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Part 5/?

* Published September 13th 2024 *

** Azriel's POV **

The night stretched on, filled with restless pacing and seething anger that I couldn’t seem to shake off. The memories of Y/N's story replayed in my mind, fueling a relentless rage that I directed toward the name “Keir.” I couldn’t stand the thought of him walking free, still living while others had suffered because of his cruelty.

I couldn’t stay idle, so I sent the information directly to Rhysand. His response was quick, his promise to look into it reassuring, but he also warned me to stay away from Hewn City and Keir. He knew me well enough to anticipate my next move, and I hated that he was right.

My instincts were to hunt down that bastard and end him, but Rhys had always been the voice of reason, the one who could temper my more impulsive tendencies.

In my frustration, I let out a furious yell into the night, my voice carrying across the quiet streets. “I want to rip his head off!”

The sound of my own anger echoed back to me, amplifying the frustration I felt. Rhysand didn’t respond, and I was left alone with my thoughts until I noticed a figure standing in the distance.

Y/N was there, clad in her nightgown, her presence a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed me. She looked at me with a mixture of concern and something softer—maybe understanding.

The sight of her calmed me in a way I hadn’t expected. Her presence was a reminder of why I had to hold onto my promise, why my anger needed to be channeled into something more constructive.

As I approached her, she made a feeble attempt at humor, a weak smile on her lips. “So, some part of you is still Illyrian, huh? I already started to think you were to tame.”

Her comment made me chuckle despite the lingering anger. It was a gentle reminder of the calmness I was struggling to keep in check. “My temper can still be very much Illyrian,” I replied, my voice softer now, the anger receding as I looked at her.

She gave a small, shaky laugh, and I could see the fear behind her brave façade. It was a side of her I hadn’t seen before, and it made my resolve harden even further. I couldn’t let her be afraid because of what I might do. I needed to be the protector I had promised to be.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said, trying to soften my tone. “I just… needed to vent.” She shook her head, her gaze steady despite the tremor in her voice. “It’s okay. I understand... I eh, used to yell at my demons too, at times.”

The sincerity in her words was like a balm to my frayed nerves. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and nodded. “Thank you for trusting me, with those demons.”

I looked at Y/N, still standing in her nightgown, a slight flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. I could see that she was trying to avoid eye contact, her gaze shifting back toward the hallway and the direction of her room.

“Why are you up?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. She turned slightly, her discomfort palpable. “Eh, the bed…” she began, trailing off as if the explanation was somehow too trivial.

“What’s wrong?” I pressed gently, trying to draw her out. She looked embarrassed, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown. “It’s too soft,” she admitted, almost in a whisper.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her confession. “I get the feeling,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Years of sleeping on the cold, hard floor can make it difficult to adjust to a bed that feels like a cloud you’re about to fall through.”

Her eyes met mine, and despite her discomfort, a small smile tugged at her lips. It was a smile that spoke of shared understanding, a moment of connection over something as simple as an uncomfortable bed.

“I guess thats what I mean,” she said, her voice a bit more relaxed now. “I’m just not used to all this softness.”

We stood there for a moment, the night air cool around us, the tension from earlier dissipating into a comfortable ease. It was strange, but this small conversation about an overly soft bed had created a new kind of bond between us—one that was built on shared experiences and mutual understanding.

“If you need anything,” I said, my voice sincere, “just let me know.”

Y/N gave me a grateful look, her eyes reflecting a sense of relief. “Thanks, Azriel. I appreciate it.”

Hearing her say my name stirred something deep inside me, a feeling I hadn’t expected, and certainly hadn’t invited. The way Y/N's lips shaped my name sent a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite shake off. As she turned and began walking toward her room, my mind wandered, unbidden, to the image of her whispering my name again—but this time in a far more intimate setting.

I imagined her in my bed, her soft voice barely a breath against my ear as I held her close, our bodies entwined in the warmth of night. The thought sent a ripple of heat through me, and I quickly forced myself to suppress it, to keep my emotions and, more importantly, my scent from betraying me. The last thing I wanted was for her to sense what I was thinking.

But her presence… the way she smelled after living so long outdoors—like fresh earth, pine, and a touch of something uniquely her—made it difficult to keep my focus. It wasn’t the typical perfumes and floral scents most females wore. No, her scent was raw, natural, and it stirred something primal in me that I had no business entertaining.

She paused mid-step, and for a moment, I worried my control had slipped. She swallowed hard, her shoulders tensing just slightly, as if she sensed the shift in the air between us. My heart raced for the briefest moment, my mind running wild with the possibility that she might turn around and call me out.

But she didn’t.

She simply took a deep breath, gathered herself, and continued walking. There was no comment, no accusatory glance. She either hadn’t noticed, or she was kind enough to pretend she hadn’t. Either way, I was grateful.

I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and cursed myself for letting my thoughts get away from me. This wasn’t the time or place for such distractions. Y/N had already been through enough. The last thing she needed was for me to make things awkward, or worse, let her think I had some ulterior motive, that I would be the scum that had forced himself on her.

No I needed to keep her safe, wanted to keep her here with me, where I know she's save.

** Y/N's POV **

The moment I smelled him, it took me a second to recognize the scent—a mixture of raw power, shadows, and something distinctly masculine that stirred something inside me. It had been a long time since I had been this close to an Illyrian male, and even longer since I had sensed arousal from anyone. The realization hit me just as I reached my room, and I forced myself to keep moving, though my legs suddenly felt unsteady.

I closed the door behind me, leaning back against it, my breath coming out in shaky, uneven waves. How was it possible? I’d only mentioned not being able to sleep, and yet I’d felt it, the change in his scent. The sharp edge of desire laced through the air, unmistakable. And what baffled me most was that it wasn’t unwelcome. I didn’t feel disgust or fear like I would have in the past.

I wasn’t upset.

But I was confused. My mind began to wander as I stood there, eyes closed, trying to make sense of it. Azriel—the way he looked at me, the subtle heat in his eyes that I hadn't fully registered before. I began to imagine what it would be like with him, to feel his hands on me, his body pressed against mine. For a moment, I indulged the thought, picturing slipping into his room, into his bed. What would it be like to experience something real, something not born from pain and cruelty, but desire?

I could almost feel his warmth, the gentle touch of his hands on my skin, his lips trailing down my neck as he whispered my name. The thought made something inside me stir—a strange, unfamiliar heat that I'd never associated with intimacy before.

But then, the memories crept back in, as they always did. Sex had never been about pleasure for me. It had been a tool, a weapon used against me. My body had been nothing more than a means to an end for others. The idea of it ever bringing joy or connection was foreign to me, no matter how much I wanted to believe it could be different with someone like him.

Azriel.

He seemed different—a good male, one who could offer something more. But I couldn’t bear the thought of ruining the image I had of him, of seeing him through the same lens as all the others who had used me. What if the reality didn’t live up to the fantasy? What if, in the end, he was no different?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. No, no. It’s not fun, I reminded myself. It never had been. And I didn’t want to risk breaking this fragile thing between us.

I heard him. Even through the thick wood of my door, I could sense Azriel on the other side, moving about in his room. The same scent lingered in the air—desire, thick and palpable, brushing against my skin like a caress. It sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs feel unsteady, my heart pounding faster than I cared to admit.

How was he doing this to me?

My thoughts spiraled, battling between reason and impulse. Should I open the door? Should I let him in? Just for a moment, for a taste of what it could be like? I didn’t know why, but my body craved it, craved him. I hadn’t felt anything like this in so long—maybe I never had. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I hesitated, doubting myself, doubting him.

By the time I made up my mind, my hand reaching for the doorknob, I heard his door close.

The soft click echoed down the hall, and I knew I was too late. My heart dropped slightly, disappointment settling into my chest. Still, I found myself stepping across the hall, standing just outside his door, drawn to him despite my better judgment. My hand hovered above the wood, unsure whether to knock or walk away. But instead, I leaned in, pressing my ear gently to the surface, my breath hitching as I strained to hear anything on the other side.

And then I heard it—his heavy breaths, labored and uneven, the sound of desire and restraint barely held in check. My heart thudded loudly in my chest, every beat reverberating through me as I caught his scent again. Stronger now, more potent. The way it tugged at me made my body respond instinctively, a warmth pooling deep in my stomach.

Then, in the silence of the night, I heard him murmur something under his breath, barely audible.

My name.

The sound of it slipping from his lips, filled with need, with want—it sent a shock through me. I hitched a breath, my pulse racing, and I stepped back, almost stumbling as I did. His voice, soft and raw, saying my name like that… it made me feel things I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in so long.

I stood there, frozen for a moment, torn between wanting to open the door and flee back to my room. His presence, his desire—it was so close, so tangible. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face what lay behind that door.

Before I could slip back into my room I heard his door open.

"Y/N?"

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @sidthedollface2 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @mich0731

[pseuddamntired]

Needle Lace Resources

This is a very long post, so I'm including a cut.

Tutorial-like Things, Others' Work

An overview of the stages of needle lace (specifically learning from Alençon, I believe. They link to a documentary type of video on Alençon lace): https://www.taixtile.com/needle-lace-first-steps/. This blog has links to other resources (one link is broken, if I recall correctly).

A very approachable first project, I think. From a lace maker who has done very cool illustrations with lace, Maggie Hensel-Brown: https://youtu.be/OLuRpJ96p4Q?si=gqBWqYxa755gFozr

This channel has videos of the stages of needle lace making. They specifically demonstrate Irish lace, I believe. But the stages are very similar to or the same as the stages in Alençon lace. https://youtu.be/dZVagIFCnLc?si=d8lRnPsmz5iTM0Z_

Pierre Fouché has a video about making dense filling stitches and even doing short rows to makes curves (something I tried but did not yet succeed at): https://youtu.be/DK5cMQND3b8?si=qySmT9yaoTcpsUV9 He also does really cool bobbin lace illustrations by constructing patterns in cell-like units.

An embroiderer tries needle lace in two videos. In one of them she tries different styles from different places: https://youtu.be/eTO7dA4oyl4?si=VInx35kql115bIIo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9Wa6-Qf5xw

Example of a different style of needle lace: https://youtube.com/shorts/7DFogWC3tDI?si=uju74sPFbRj3_wrn

Sampler directions: https://youtu.be/oDKBfjDYBnU?si=shQYvaT4kAZD7BgV

Again, a more geometric style of needle lace. I don’t know the particulars of this style (styles?), since I’ve mostly been looking into styles similar to Alençon because I’m aiming for more illustration-like lace. This channel has multiple videos demoing and explaining that process: https://youtu.be/gJd6mkrsUCQ?si=AfVIiwljHvfismrX https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6dk721UwW4

Not so much instructions but video of a very skilled lacemaker working on a project: https://youtu.be/01H2GdEXLrs?si=2suFHSG4Kwa6Yl2m

Another lacemaker's work on their blog. I don’t know if they do as much lace making as they do other needle arts https://www.robesdecoeur.com/blog/needlelace-my-work-so-far

A lacemaker's work... the site is older and kind of tricky to navigate. Like. there's no home button, as far as I can tell. Album of their work: https://www.lacemakerslace.oddquine.co.uk/album/index.html Home page, I think: https://www.lacemakerslace.oddquine.co.uk/

Useful/Interesting Things to Know

Alençon lace -- specific French style from the Alençon region, which has a history of point lace and a current institution dedicated to preserving the skills and producing lace. This is the style that I was looking at examples of to try and learn from.

The terms "needle lace" and "point lace" are both used to refer to lace made with a needle. I'm unclear on if there are subtle distinctions between them or if it's simply a matter of location.

Encyclopedia of Needlework by Therese De Dillmont is an excellent resource to learn how to do different stitches. HTML copy of book available on Project Gutenberg here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/20776/20776-h/20776-h.htm I recommend using ctrl+f to search for "lace stitch" on the page. The end of each chapter in the HTML version seems to have a link to the Table of Contents that is at the end of the entire document. It has chapters for plenty of other needle arts, so it's a good resource all around.

If you want to find examples of needle lace, look on Wikimedia Commons! Using a variety of search terms will help you find more material for inspiration/observation than otherwise

If you want to design your own needle lace depicting objects, it might be worth looking at stained glass to see how larger shapes are broken up into smaller shapes that still feel complete.

You can use multiple colors! Let yourself use multiple colors, like stained glass!

Thoughts from the Learning Process So Far (some terminology used here, look them up so you know what the actual definitions are, but I’ll define what I mean by them)

Tacking vs Couching... I'm unsure about the actual definitions so I may be using them wrong here. In the videos I’ve seen tacking seems to be making a stitch that runs along the way the cordonnet will run. Couching seems to be just when the thread that secures the cordonnet comes up through the backing and goes down through the backing at the same point. With these definitions… Tacking went faster for me than doing couching, but it feels a lot less secure and precise for the form of lace I’m making. Unless I made the tacking stitches perpendicular to the cordonnet's path, the outline cord moved too much due to tension. If it's perpendicular and not a very short stitch, it might get in the way of your filling stitches or binding off stitches. Which might be fine, since you pull them out anyways. But it would also mean more holes in the backing, and at some point the holes are too close together and might tear the backing and pattern. I don't like that. Couching—much, MUCH more tedious for me because I’m not practiced at making the needle come up in exactly the right spot. but it feels more secure to me. The outline seems to be less affected by tension as you work. And I took some shortcuts for couching that helped. I don’t couch the doubled cord, instead I whip stitch back over the already-secured cord. I might make a post to demonstrate what I mean. It kind of messes with the shape/placement of my cordonnet, but for the sake of my impatience I’m willing to sacrifice the precise shape.

Backing material... To use fabric in backing like the instructions usually say, or not? Idk. For me, it’s hard to find the right hole for the couching stitches when I can't see my pattern from the back. It took a lot of trial and error until I got a feel for how to predict where my needle would come up. I don't like the way the poke-and-check method of stitching the cordonnet down tends to rip the pattern up (at least, with my easy-to-access materials. Probably better with better materials and more practice. Using my thumb to find approximately the right spot helped, but not enough). So I just used a sandwich of tape/paper/tape as my backing. If you're willing to fuss around with fabric in your backing, it might make it easier to remove the couching threads after you're done, and when I tried. The directions I've seen usually say to use a backing of doubled-up fabric, clay paper (I'm unsure what this is. might be a thicker paper than cardstock, or it might be paper made to contain clay particles. Probably more like the first option), and contact paper. My last attempt at making a backing used notebook paper (or other type of paper) with packaging tape on both sides to provide a smooth surface and structure. I think it worked fairly well, and I didn't have to figure out where to buy contact paper (or figure out exactly what contact paper was).

[itstokkii]

Tomato Red

in which turkey pays uzbekistan a visit. summer 2023

"It's getting hot, can't we go in for a break or something?" Sadik wiped some sweat off his forehead. He had hoped they'd spend some quality time in Nargiza's living room, watching some Turkish dramas in her living room under the merciful air conditioning.

Instead, he was out in her gardens helping her pick crops in the merciless 40 degree weather in Uzbekistan.

"Sadik, we've just started. All you have to do is fill the bucket halfway with tomatoes and cucumbers while I check on the rest of the plants and pick the basil leaves. Besides, you wanted to see me cook, right? The other foods are ready, and this is the final step," She didn't spare a glance at him, instead tending to her rose bushes. How cruel...!

He had to admit, having a whole house instead of an apartment definitely had its perks. Her house, like so many others he saw while driving to her address, had a gigantic gate, and was walled up on all 4 sides. When she let him in, he was greeted by the sight of wires holding up vines of sweet, ripe grapes. There were 2 plots of land on each side of the entranceway to her house, with pomegranate trees on one plot, and apricot trees on the other. Among her crops, she had tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplants, and bell peppers.

So she definitely saved on grocery bills, huh?

As the tomatoes and cucumbers piled up on his basket, he took a few glances at her. She was watering some plants that were beginning to shrivel a little.

It was kind of weird to see her in an informal setting. He always got used to seeing her in pantsuits. Now, she was in a matching dress and trouser set, a scarf tying her long hair back. She looked a little...cute? Domestic? He couldn't describe the feeling.

Feeling her eyes on him, he whipped his head back and picked the last crop.

‎‧₊˚✧[🇹🇷🇺🇿]✧˚₊‧

Glad to be in the kitchen, Sadik sought refuge as he watched Nargiza thinly chop the tomatoes and cucumbers he picked. He noticed a bowl of onions soaked in water next to him.

"What's that for?"

"We don't want the onion's flavor to be too strong in the salad."

He chuckled a bit at that.

After everything was chopped, she strained the onions, added them into the mix, and seasoned it with salt before plating the finished salad.

"You sit down in the living room. I'll bring the food." She affectionately?? shooed him as she focused on the plov and somsa she showed Sadik how to prepare throughout the day, plating those as well and carefully bringing them to the table.

In the meantime, he was flipping through channels and trying to make out what the news reporter was saying about the approval of a new set of apartment buildings to be constructed in Tashkent.

‎‧₊˚✧[🇹🇷🇺🇿]✧˚₊‧

"I cannot believe she just told him all that!" She gasped in shock as they both watched the climax of the Turkish drama they were watching. "You can't trust bad boys like him!"

"He literally kissed her once, that doesn't make him the bad boy archetype?" He looked at her, chuckling at her idea of what a "bad boy" was.

"Wait, they kissed? When did that happen?" She sipped on her black tea.

Oh right. Censorship. "Way back in episode 7. They were like, throwing themselves on top of each other. The broadcasters probably cut that scene out here."

"And for good reason! We can't be influencing the youth negatively like that–"

He gently grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips.

"I–! Wha–!" Nargiza let out a string of stammers, her face becoming redder than the embroidered pomegranate cushion next to her.

She buried her face into it as he laughed. "You're as red as the tomatoes! But it's ok, 'cause red is my favorite color~"

"SADIK!" Her voice was muffled through the cushion.

He could stay here for a while. He didn't mind the Uzbek summer heat anymore.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Notes: tagging @billowingangel since i know you wanted to see their dynamic! i hope you enjoy!

also, i suck at description, but the house and gardens are based off of close and distant relatives' homes back in uzbekistan! uzbek homes truly are something else...

[barbswo]

Wanted to write you into my story—

You danced on the scripts and threw them away

I was armed with a pen, it captured the glory

That blinded me, so I slipped and turned you into prey

That's how writers create their villains

They let the plot flow and take careful notes

"He said this, she did that" - all just to fill in

The void in their chest, the cradle of quotes

I crossed the Channel to prove them all wrong

Admittedly anxious and worried and sick

Do they still want me? Can this last long?

Never-ever I thought it could be this quick

I wasn't your summer like you believed

Because the sun hurts and so does heat

Heard 'Summertime Sadness' as I retrieved

The scarps of my dignity in that backseat

I don't think you knew me, and I'm so sorry

For wasting your time on a dead-end game

Playing a ghost is a lot, but don't you worry—

I'll stay away from your lustrous flame

For the sun the world is not ever dark

At least this is the lie I was taught to see

In truth, the sun’s lonely, alone with its spark…

I dared to hope it'd be shared with me

Drew and constructed more shining lines

Polished my rotten reflections to glow

To just keep you looking, ignoring the signs

Sunflowers were dying, sorry, Van Gogh

They say the world took six days to mold

I destroyed mine with sixty six words

"Just say it, be honest," I've been told

(Had to shoot it all down, those vicious songbirds)

"I am tired of feeling like I can't love

Because I don't meet your expectations"

It's burning my skull, all the above

Frankenstein, take care of your own creations!

But it's not really fair, is it, my sun?

It's not like asked to burn down the Earth

I wanted your rays, but you wanted to run

Don't blame me for trying and proving my worth

If I make you my villain, it's not cause of spite

I need to call you something of mine

Otherwise it was worthless, this treacherous fight

A faceless soldier bled out at the frontline

Cause I'm no butterfly, and this isn't a tale

(Only if one of my own creation)

Tried writing you out, but to no avail

Snapped out from the wings of your incantations

Can we be friends? I'm not really sure

Can we catch up? Okay, you go!

My lover, my villain, it's all so obscure—

But I am the author. And you're a crow.

[hazbinficsandstuff-eyeshadow]

Helluva hotel fanfic(what do you think I take constructive critisims)

Chapter 1:closing

Blitzo picks up the horse standee covered in gems that he had bought a while back and placed it atop a box with other things. Papers filled to the brim with really nothing of importance, mainly random horse drawings and the “research” he managed to recollect after it flew out the window. Millie.moxxie. And Stolas also helped him pack.

”Are you sure you want to give up on this?” Stolas asked. Moxie and Millie looked at blitz with sadness and grief in their eyes. While they hadn't been successful blitz had made a name for himself. They still lived in the low-class. Millie had to lie to her parents about how well freelance was going but nonetheless they enjoyed the adventures they had.

“I really appreciate you all helping, as much as I kid around about you being my family here, I mean it. I mean you all are the closest thing to a family I have so I really hope we all stay in touch. I also want to thank you Stolas especially since you don't really work at IMP unless you count supplying access” Blitz responds.

With happy tears in his eyes as Stolas gives a slight smile the 666 news channel comes on the tv with Charlie and Lucifer replacing the spaces and pushing away Katie killjoy and tom trench as they yell at them.

Charlie whispers a quick “sorry” before looking back at her dad. Lucifer begins hitting a stack of papers against the table while squinting through his glasses, mumbling trying to make out his chicken-scratch handwriting.

Charlie rips the papers out of his hand and throws them back. “ Me and my father have been talking and he originally wanted to force everyone-” Charlie says with a hint of anger and attitude.

Lucifer cuts her off and says “ But we decided that we won't force anyone, although I offered to do it as a form of punishment-”

“ Because we can't force people to redeem themselves they have to choose to and the hotel is to help not punish people, although he did pitch it to me like a parole office or being sentenced to rehab like on earth sense we don't have jail in hell”. Charlie looks at her father knowing he's probably about to cut her off again mainly because he gets too excited and blurts stuff out but he notices the look and keeps quiet while looking at his daughter. “ Anyway we’re getting off track. The main point is that white we are not forcing anyone to come, we highly encourage everyone to give redemption a shot and try to better themselves”.

“Isn't this basically free therapy?” Tom asked from the background right before the broadcast closed.

“Dang it, they're probably the reason we had to close, also why'd that woman sound so much like me?” Blitz asked.

Moxie replied “ Why are you blaming the business’s downfall on the princess again?”

“Because with all the sinners going there I bet no one cares about getting revenge on those who wronged them in the living world, they're too busy worrying about getting he redeemed” Blitz says in his usual all-caps screaming tone.

Stolas pointed a finger up and responded “ Uhmm I actually think her business isn't doing much better than yours although I don't think they actually charge people to stay there so if they're not even trying to profit I’m not sure if it’s still considered a business, it's been quite the topic of discussion recently”.

Blitz trying to find something to pin the blame of the businesses downfall on says “ I don't believe it! I sure they had something to do with us closing, were gonna go there and find out for ourselves”

“If that’s what you want, boss, we'd be happy to come along” Millie says.

“Millie can I talk to you for a moment, ya know in private” Moxie responds. Moxie and Millie head out to right outside the door. Blitz was listening in head against the wall, usually moxie would check but today everything was too hectic to do so.

“ We’re finally able to get away from Blitz, we can finally be alone. I think if we do this one thing with him we'd be stuck with him forever. Him constantly trying to get in on what we're doing” he told Millie. Blitz pupils became almost nothing in his eyes as they shrunk from listening in to what Moxxie had said.

“I love you Mox but, do you remember when we first met? The only thing you could think to talk about was yer best friend, blitz. I honestly thought you and him might have had something going on at first” Millie responded.

“I love you so much too Millie , you're what's important. I only thought he was meaningful in my life because I met him when I was in a tough spot but now that I know you I can see that he's not really of anything of importance” Moxie responded. Moxie then went back into the room with the rest of them. Millie although still seeming not Completely satisfied with the result of their conversation entered with him. Blitz backed away from the door right before they came through and continued packing up as though he heard nothing. Blitz pretended to be fine as he always did. Stolas couldn't hear what was going on I the other room however he could tell blitz wasn't taking it lightly. He wanted to comfort blitz but wasn't sure how especially after all that's happened. He nervously put his hand over blitz's hand trying to console him.

Blitz looked up at stolas smiling “ do you maybe want a hug?” stolas asked.

Blitz looked at his face and was riddled With guilt he immediately teared his hand away and held both of his own hands together nervously “ sorry I…”. Stolas interrupts “ no, no sorry I overstepped…again”. Blitz wanted to say something like “it's okay” but he wasn't sure the exact words. He couldn't hand the guilt. Him and stolas hadn't even talked after what happened. He didn't even know how stolas knew about them closing. He felt bad that even though he had gotten him hurt and then ghosted him he still showed up to help with such a simple task. Moxxie and millie saw them but didn't assume what was going om had anything to do with they Were talking about just another day them.

“Do you still want to go check out the hotel blitz?” Stolas asked.

“YEPPPP” blitz responds sounding super exited to cover up their previous conversation.

Millie with slight anger in her voice Said “I'm going with blitz and stolas you can come if you want moxxie”. Moxxie looks co fused with the sudden attitude but follows anyway

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Let’s talk about: Channeling

What is channeling? That’s a good question. As many of you know, my reading format is that I channel first and then follow up with cards to see what they say. So what happens when you’re channeling? Let’s talk about it.

So what exactly is channeling?

Channeling is basically going into a state where you have emptied your mind of all things that can bar truth from entering, insecurities, negative self talk, etc. With that empty space, you have room to bring in bigger downloads of spiritual information.

All of this background programming is like having a bunch of internet tabs open. All your energy is being dispersed because the thought itself attracts energy. To remember what you need to do, you take that energy away. If you can live in the present and do things, even just to complete them, that’s good. Free up your energy.

I was always worried what would fill my head if sadness and anxiety didn’t live there. Turns out it’s insights, creative ideas, it’s amazing. I can feel myself healing my mind and it’s only strengthened my channeling. Now that a bunch of stuff isn’t draining my attention, my insights are way more clear.

What does channeling feel like?

It’s weird. Because on the one hand you are filtering information through your human personality’s mind, but you are also at a higher frequency to even receive the information, so it’s like being detached from yourself. Sometimes I don’t even understand something until I’m channeling. I’m just writing what comes to mind and it’s not something I knew before. It feels urgent, almost like I’m allowing the energy to drive. If they have a pressing message, I call it knocking on my head.

I can feel a download coming energetically, which is this feeling of some impending moment of importance. I know it means I need to do a reading soon, and usually I know the topic. And then it will come to mind and I’ll have to type it out right there or recite it. I take note of my thoughts a lot. It’s very useful.

But yeah it sort of feels like all of a sudden there’s this urge to write and I start writing. If my thoughts circulate a lot and keeps coming back to something, it usually means I need to jot it down. That’s why I also record my dreams because sometimes there are very important details.

Clairaudiece: What do you hear?

So when I channel conversations or love letters, basically it comes through as if someone was sitting across from me and reciting what they want me to write for them. Basically I’m a translator. So it’s hard to explain because my gifts mix, so the voice may not sound like someone else’s voice, but because I see the energy of the person it’s almost like I superimpose them over the voice and it’s theirs. But I see them like almost visually reciting to me. So I guess my sound and visualizing mix. Synesthesia!

Clairvoyance: What do you see?

Sometimes it’s like a still image, but sometimes it’s also like a scene, like I will see people laughing or moving, but usually it’s just a glimmer into a moment.

Clairsentience: What do you feel?

So that’s what makes this hard to explain. All my gifts work at once so like I’m getting a visual (clairvoyance) hearing words (clairaudient) and also picking up emotions (clairsentience) all at once. They’re all so intertwined it’s hard trying to separate it out. But I usually will feel pressing emotions, such as peace, anxiety, stress, frustration, and I feel that usually in my heart space.

It sort of feels like my crown chakra opens like a mouth, spirit pours a bunch of shit into my head and then I unscramble it and translate it into human constructs. Then I speak it or write it, so it’s basically a straight shot through me, creating a circuit. Like as all this tumuli comes in, I’m just trying to take meeting notes.

Claircognizance: Aha moments!

I think having claircognizance is like having aha moments a lot. You don’t really know why you arrived at that conclusion but you did and you strongly feel like everything makes sense. I’m beginning to believe part of it is that our bodies pick up a lot of stimuli all day but most of us repress it. I think we learn to repress as young highly sensitives because we have to toughen up to feel okay, and that means sacrificing some of you ability to open up to the ability to receive those insights.

I think the brain processes this stuff still but we’ve learned to detach because otherwise our empathy would be going haywire. It’s a form of boundaries. All that to say, I think some of those insights are what’s mixed with claircognizance and that’s why people are like I don’t know where that came from! Well most people don’t realize how much their body takes on daily.

I think it also comes from connecting dots, like claircognizance is a spiritually advanced way of picking up patterns and seeing invisible connecting points, sort of like jumping lilypads. You can see how people could connect and ways different moments can connect with one another in a non-linear way. It’s just a different way of looking at things.

[arachnixe]

A More Perfect Servant

A bolt of light streaks through the air, faster than the human eye can track, aimed unerringly for my servant's heart. A blur of motion intercepts it, and with a sharp crack of sound, the magically charged arrow is deflected to the side.

Good puppet. Well done.

Unseen by these irksome intruders, my claws stroke the back of Emilia's head, tipping her annoyance with a gentle nudge toward contempt. Still, she almost wavers when she recognizes her enemies. I grip her more tightly to steady her thoughts.

Three of them. I dismiss the first, a knight built like a giant slab of meat gripping a giant slab of steel as a shield. An unremarkable simpleton. Even now, my servant wants to think of him as a friend, however. I squash the thought before she can be allowed to think it.

More dangerous is the young, newly crowned king leveling that divine blade at us. Even without that telltale glow, I'd recognize the stench of the goddess on it. The thing is littered with countless more enchantments, too.

How many sorcerers and master craftsmen were involved in constructing this weapon? Did he empty the royal coffers to commission that sword just to kill us? Oh, he must be quite furious about my puppet killing his parents.

But my servant, predictably, cannot wrest her attention away from the third—the doe-eyed priestess with the goddess's gifts—and I haven't decided whether it's her powers or this girl's obsession with her that makes her the greatest threat of all.

The priestess nocks another arrow, and she channels the power that is her birthright into it. However, instead of taking aim, she makes one more attempt to break my hold on her friend.

"If you're still in there, you have to fight that demon's control. Don't make us kill you!"

I whisper poison into an ear that cannot shut me out, and my servant's lips move to speak the jealousy I plant inside her.

"Don't pretend that you suddenly care about me now. You made your choice, didn't you?" I paint a sneer on her mouth.

"The Anchor needs—"

"Your goddess demands an heir to inherit her gift," my puppet interrupts, that word dripping with resentment that isn't even mine, "something I could never give you. But he can, can't he? Merging the royal bloodline with your holy one. How perfect."

The large one responds to all the malice in her words, moving to place his shield between the threat she represents and his friends.

My puppet is insulted. I stoke her fury until a violent outburst carries her forward, leaping over his shield to bury her glaive in his skull.

That's one down. Now…

Wait. What—?

I tug the strings, but my puppet only stiffens. She drops her weapon. Tears fill her eyes.

"Kill me. Please," she begs.

Disgusting words that I did not feed her. I squash her pity. I smother her revulsion. Still she resists me.

We have so much more to do. We're burning this entire world down. What is the point of such a display for this tiny, insignificant group of people?

"Hurry, I can't—"

The next holy arrow strikes true. Right in the heart. My servant falls.

Intolerable failure.

"I-is it over?"

No resurrecting my servant. The arrow's power repels me.

"That demon of hers will try again. Maybe with one of us."

The priestess would have to intentionally lower her natural defenses for me to take her, and the sword in the king's hands works similarly.

The dead knight, maybe. Wouldn't be my first choice, but my options are limited. Humans are sentimental creatures. Perhaps they'll drag his corpse back, with me in tow, and I'll have more choices open to me later.

I slip into the body.

Careless, too used to inhabiting an empowered servant, I don't notice the trap until it's too late. Wards on the body flare with heat and light, and the king's reflexes are swift. He plunges that holy blade through his dead friend's chest and into me.

"Got you," he growls.

Sealed away by the sword's power, howling in futility at the goddess's repulsive servants, I am unable to lift a finger to resist as they add layer upon layer of imprisonment. Wrapped, chained, locked away in a remote temple, they think me gone forever.

But it is my nature to corrupt, and while the blade has no will of its own to seduce, it likewise has no will to resist as I wear away at its essential nature with time.

A century, a millennium, a myriad years—however long it takes, I will make this sword-prison mine.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, I twist the blade's light into alignment with my power and my nature. As I do so, I study it and come to know the power of the holy bloodline far more intimately than ever before.

The priestess herself once imbued this sword with her power. The bond remains, and I can trace it back, back, back to her descendants.

Somewhere out there a princess dreams, and I seed her fertile mind with prophetic nightmares of what I'll do to her kingdom. There is no scheme in it. No grand plan. It's an act of spite at enmity's heir. What happens next is simply good fortune.

She half-recalls a distorted legend of a sword that seals away darkness. She sends a champion to claim a weapon to fight my prophecy.

And then one day I feel the caress of a strong hand once again.

The blade I embody is wholly under my command, and the power this new knight claims is equally mine.

I sink my fangs into her mind, expecting to struggle with her for dominance the way I did with Emilia.

Instead she exhales a sigh of pleasure. She strokes me like a lover.

Her mind's eye shows me crimson-stained visions of her enemies, and all I have to whisper is "yes."

[paragonrobits]

my usual response to being frustrated, upset or otherwise filled up with Bad Feelings I can't really do anything constructive with is to try to channel it into creative ideas or concepts so at least I can do something constructive with it and work through it in the process, but when it comes to frustrating experiences with fandom, such as the increasingly widespread hatred for the concept of superheroes overall (often in a deeply strange 'risking yourself for strangers and not only your friends is EVIL' way) I honestly have no idea to apply that

like... I SUPPOSE i could mangle the weird takes I find particularly frustrating (like the powerscaler overhyping of characters, disinterest in any character beyond onesided easy wins and combine that with fandom stuff I dislike such as over emphasis on romantic pairings that were never going to happen or the ever popular Alpha Male x Cinderella fandom conceit, and the hate for heroic characters that prioritize strangers over personal gain or the well-being of their friend groups) but

i dont really know how to actually do something like that. It's a pretty straight forward concept but is it really possible to create something worthwhile out of that? it feels a bit like immersing myself in the hatred when I explicitly don't like that at all

obviously I can rework that concept into something more palatable but that might feel contrary to my actual purpose of 'this thing annoys me so I want to make a villain out of it for my characters to punch, but in a recurring comedic villain sort of way or a rival to overcome'

and I have to wonder; is this creatively dishonest? If I make a less objectionable character out of a premise I inherently dislike, doesn't that defeat the purpose of using it as a baseline for an easily punched problem? And conversely, from the opposite POV, if I immerse myself into a thing I DON'T like, isn't that something similar to Garth Ennis and him writing The Boys as a deeply misanthropic, jaded and acidic work all about his characters viciously murdering thinly veiled parodies of various superheroes?

If i make more sincere characters out of that, whether or not they're evil or obnoxious goofballs that keep showing up in lighter stories to annoy my main characters, is that a more sincere thing? Iike, using the Annoying Thing as a seed and having some vicarious joy in fighting it, but otherwise taking it seriously or playing it for comedy without any real vitriol in it??

Genuine question here, does anyone here have thoughts on that???

[cevansbrat0007]

As much as I agree about reading what you feel comfortable with and letting writers be creative/create about what they desire, I do feel like there is a fine line between that and just creating content that make people feel a certain way

I am the first one who enjoys dabbling into different and slightly bizzare genres but I do have to say that, even if it is fantasy and you don't condone it, it can still feel wrong and that is okay.

No, I have not read and will not read this series, but will continue supporting the rest of your work. And yes, I do understand that you write for your own pleasure.

However, I do feel like once you put your work our there, you should be able to handle what people think about it (as long as ir is not harassment, which I don't think it's the case, but I can't really see your inbox, so who really knows).

I don't know, I just feel like people are entitled to their own feelings and being able to voice them as much as you have the right to defend your story and overall character. I guess that is what comes with creating within this genre, but I do have to say that, even if not having read it, it too makes me feel really uncomfortable.

I hope you have a nice day/night and keep doing you.

I get that you're trying to explain your thoughts and feelings regarding this, and I appreciate that. However, there is a fine line between constructive criticism and calling me a pedo or accusing me of supporting pedos (because no, you can't see my inbox).

Are you really saying I should allow people to continuously lambast me because I'm exploring a genre that has existed long before I ever wrote the first sentence of my new series? Seriously?

Are telling me that I should both allow and accept this because I...what? Because I owe you? Because you pay me? Because I receive some kind of compensation for this? Because why?

Hint. Hint. The answer is: I don't. Thanks for playing.

If you don't like something I'm writing, then fine, skip it. Just as you said you were going to do. Focus on my other series. That's okay.

What I don't need is everybody's opinion about something constantly. Everyone has a different threshold in regards to what makes them feel uncomfortable. I don't expect our thresholds to always match exactly.

Everyone is entitled to how they feel, but you also tend to know how you feel before you click and read the story. That's why I put warnings on the damn thing to begin with. If you don't like it, then don't fucking read it. Heed the warnings and stop clogging my inbox. I practice this approach all of the time.

Again, it's one thing to offer ideas or constructive criticism. It is something altogether different to fill a creator's inbox with hatred simply because you don't like something. Remember, you don't pay me. I make no money off of this. I owe you nothing - not even an explanation if I so choose.

I'm not one typically inclined towards extremism. I simply wanted to try something different. I should be able to do that without all of this extra bullshit. There is no need for me to have to keep explaining myself over and over and over again. Would you like to have to do that? Does that sound like a good time to you? Or would you rather channel your energy into being creative?

At this point, I'm just going to start blocking people - all of whom are too scared to come off of Anon, by the way. Read my work or don't. Support it or don't. But do not ever try to suggest or tell me that I deserve this shit.

That's just wrong.

[exprimis]

Christopher Rufo is a known transphobe, but I read this essay in Hillsdale's Imprimis, adapted from a speech that Rufo gave, and burst into laughter.

The essay contains many serious issues, including:

Uses trans people's post-transition names, but misgenders them in the most amazing ways: "[so-and-so] now identifies as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns. [...] She works as...."

Talks about "the transgender movement" as if it was something that only started in the late 1980s

Says that the transgender activists are trying to use transgenderism to support a Marxist revolution, and then does not try to split this gender-political coalition, thereby ceding ground to his ideological opponents

Discusses percentage-based demographic statistics without talking about population sizes

Hypothalamus-produced hormones are effectively the divine spark which grants life and humanity

Describes the evils of minimally-invasive robot surgery

There are also some things which I applaud this essay for:

Discusses MTF, FTM, and non-binary perspectives

Liberally quotes trans and non-binary writers

Provides the first mainstream citation for "nullification" surgery that I've yet seen

But that's not the funny part.

The funny part is Rufo's analysis of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

In [Susan] Stryker’s best-known essay, “My Words to Victor Frankenstein above the Village of Chamounix: Performing Transgender Rage,” he contends that the “transsexual body” is a “technological construction” that represents a war against Western society. “I am a transsexual, and therefore I am a monster,” Stryker writes. And this monster, he continues, is destined to channel its “rage and revenge” against the “naturalized heterosexual order”; against “‘traditional family values’”; and against the “hegemonic oppression” of nature itself. [...]

In 1818, Mary Shelley wrote the famous novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. The premise of the book is that modern science, stripped from the constraints of ethics and nature, will end up creating monsters. “Trans-affirming” doctors are the post-modern version of the book’s protagonist, Doctor Frankenstein. [...] Jennifer Pritzker, Maureen Connolly, Blair Peters, and their ilk occupy the heights of power and prestige, but like Doctor Frankenstein they will not be able to escape the consequences of what they have created. They are condemning legions of children to a lifetime of sorrows and medical necessities, all based on dubious postmodern theories that do not meet the standard of Hippocrates’ injunction in his work Of the Epidemics: “First, do no harm.” Although individuals can be nullified, nature cannot. No matter how advanced trans pharmaceuticals and surgeries become, the biological reality of man and woman cannot be abolished; the natural limitations of God’s Creation cannot be transcended. The attempt to do so will elicit the same heartbreak and alienation captured in the final scene of Mary Shelley’s novel: the hulking monster, shunned by society and betrayed by his father, filled with despair and drifting off into the ice floes—a symbol of the consequence of Promethean hubris.

Did Rufo even read Frankenstein? The tragedy did not come from the creation of The Creature, who Dr. Frankenstein and society shunned because of his looks. The tragedy was engendered by social rejection, and by physical attacks upon The Creature. It was this violence that led The Creature to swear revenge on Frankenstein and humanity, not some quirk of monstrous morality.

If Rufo wants to avoid the tragedies brought by shunning and rejection, instead of demonizing trans people and their sculptors, he should advocate for acceptance of ugliness, and for improvements in surgical technique to avoid that rejection.

[technicbread]

Oh Lord, alright imma pull out the essay...

So, it started with tiny me wanting an online name, to do stuffs, and as tiny peeps do they want something "cool" and since I was convinced I was a genius with computers, it became 'tekmasterboy'... Yeah that's part one

So then a friend of mine got annoyed that one part of my name was in Danish and the rest English, so I naturally ignored his comment, but after a month I remembered it and decided to actually change it to 'techmasterboy'... Part two done

But a year or so after I had a YouTube channel running cause I wanted to be a YouTuber like any little kid did at the time, I then suddenly started to realize that I might not be as amazing with computers as I thought I was, so as to not sound like a liar I wanted to change it, but 'techboy' sounded dumb to me so I took a week to figure out what to change to until I landed on 'technicboy' and this name some people might actually remember even if just slightly... Part three, still a way to go

An unknown time later I had stopped doing YouTube cause I had realized I had no affinity for being a creator, and I was starting to be more and more active on platforms such as Reddit and discord, and I started to realize how keeping the name 'technicboy' would insinuate that I was a child which wasn't true, so I changed it to 'technicdude' and this was around the time where I was streaming on twitch for my very first time, but it only lasted a week before I forgot what twitch was... Part four almost there

A week after I changed it to 'technicdude' I felt like I just wasn't fitting me at all, so I wanted to change it but had no idea what to change it to, then I decided just as a joke do 'technicbaguette' which was cause I often joked about hitting people with a baguette... Part five nearly done

And finally after embracing my obsession with bread I constructed the name 'TechnicBread' as I didn't just like baguettes, I loved all types of bread, I immediately started writing a docs document filled with a bunch of bread facts, this document is now known as the Bread Bible also know as the Brible and with a new motivation for being a creator I started going onto twitch where I still stream every so often... That's the story of my username, thanks for reading all 6 parts 🫵😎👍 💚

If you wanna say smth just tag me in your comment on the original post, I'll read and try to respond to it💚

USERNAME LORE GIVE IT TO ME NOW YOU ALL

[leicamoments]

Community

I've commented on this before, and at the risk of me repeating myself...I am going to say something again.

Over the years, I've seen photographers bemoan the old 'gatekeepers' of the industry, how they've shut out 'most' from access to being published, or exhibited, or held up as 'up and coming talent', or...well any of the traditional routes that may lead to a wider audience seeing your work and helping you to either make a living, or enjoy good work being recognised.

Then came the Internet and the ability to do your own thing...whatever that thing may be.

But a new group of creatives turned up, commenting on how they were locked out by the traditional gatekeepers, saying there needed to be a better way, that they wanted the gates to be broken down and there should be access for all.

Some of those creatives became influencers, producing good looking videos on YouTube, commenting on and positioning themselves as judges of other people's work.

There has been a gradual transfer of power. The old gatekeepers have been largely replaced by new ones.

These influencers call their 'followers' a community...but I believe they are anything but. They are an audience for the machinations of the few.

These new gatekeepers build an audience of tens of thousands, but are not interested in following back. They follow fellow influencers and limit their 'friends' on social platforms to a few tens or hundreds at most.

The reality is that their large following enables them to build a business that earns them ad revenue, receive free items to review, gain access to prerelease products, or the holy grail of being invited to launches by the big manufacturers, and hob knob with a small circle of recognisable faces.

They certainly don't want that circle to be enlarged.

It seems that a lot of them forget what they originally set out to do, what they said, and how frustrating it was to be in a position of being shut out.

Their business model of driving clicks, subscriptions and views has less to do with community and more to do with earning a living.

One shameless wannabe influencer even asked viewers to click on his playlist of videos...even if you don't watch them, just have them play in the background as it helped his channel with 'the algorithm'.

Another critiques images, picking on minute details and telling the viewers 'if they stood just a few steps to the right...', 'he admitted to cropping this image...and that is wrong', 'fill the frame as this is little more than a snapshot' - however, when put on the spot to undertake an assignment that they wouldn't normally do, produced some of the most awful images that you will ever see.

Community is about a partnership, interaction between everyone including the 'owner' of that community. Using emotive words such as community when in reality you mean business is in my humble opinion, pure deception.

I don't for a minute believe that on social media, an individual needs to follow every single person back...but if you've got 50,000 followers but only follow 100 people, then it is clear to me what you are trying to do and be.

At that point, I would query the validity of following that particular individual.

Community is about helping those that need it, leaving ego behind and letting people know when they have produced good work, constructive criticism at other times, providing meaningful answers to questions rather than nasty comments that make the commenter feel superior.

You can have a community, be an active part of that community and run a business. Some try and succeed.

Unfortunately, many don't even try.

[mimicgender]

Jurassa just grins fully, showing off her own teeth, sharp as a dragon’s. The Porxie is practically filled to bursting with aether - her ears twitch with annoyance. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. Seems like our time is almost up… and it looks like you’ve won. Pardon my impulsiveness… but I’m going to leave you something to remember me by.” She wraps her hands around the back of Chess’ head, tangling her fingers in their hair again, and pulls them in to kiss them deeply, until she feels Chess trying to pull away or she loses track of time kissing them. 

When she does finally pull away, panting, every nerve in her body tingling with the treacherous desire to cheat - to pin Chess down and stop this unnecessary, mood-killing cleansing the hard, so very hard easy way. She growls a deep, low, rumble that she carries into her words.

“If you can still speak in the next five seconds, please do me one favor. Tell me honestly, how close did I get to breaking you?” She pulls Chess’ armor and shirt aside as much as possible and bites the meeting point of their neck and shoulder, rolling her hips unconsciously with need as she marks Chess’ skin. She pulls away as soon as she tastes copper, releasing Chess fully and rearing back onto her knees, clutching her arms to her chest. 

“If I had to lose to anyone, I’m glad it was you.” She grins one more time, visibly licking the trickle of blood off her teeth. -S

The kiss definitely takes them by surprise, but well-honed instincts keep them focused on the task even as half of their mind drifts. Catching their breath as the kiss breaks, less a matter of wanting to let go than needing oxygen. She opens her mouth to respond, words stumbling for an instant as the teeth suddenly sink in.

"Y-hhhhhhells. You got closer than I'd like. It was more of a challenge than I'd ever admit to anyone else." Body melting into the closeness slightly as they focus the last few seconds of aether into the little construct.

"And who says anything about a loss? I'm sure we'll have another round of something once you're back to your old self. At least, I hope so." They flash a cheeky grin as they finish the channeling with a flourish, their hand trembling slightly as they finish the colossal effort."