#eitan tag

[elegyofthemoon]

[SHAKES YOU]

I LOVE YOU WHY DO YOU WANNA STUDY ME!!!! NOTHING SUSPICIOUS GOING ON HERE!!!!!!!!!!

[fake-ascension]

new poor little meow meow just dropped

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Jewish Song of the Day Archive

Because we all know tumblr's search function and tags are useless! Will update with links as posts are added.

Original post/Ground rules

Olam Chesed Yibaneh - Matt Dubb

The Narrow Bridge - Nefesh Mountain

Yedid Nefesh - Josh Warshawsky

Eliyahu Hanavi - Matt Dubb

Modeh Ani - Tzemed Yeled

Piaseczna Niggun - Derech Achim

Karvah - Eitan Katz feat. Zusha

Tu Bishvat - Batya Levine

Adama ve Shamayim - ???

One Day - Koolulam

Sound of Silence [Yiddish] - Chaim Shlomo Mayesz

Bellida - LALA Tamar

Give Me One Prayer - Shmuel

Orayta - Victoria Hanna

Ani Maamin - Devorah Schwartz

Acheinu - Hadar

Park Ave Niggun - Joey Weisenberg

Am Yisrael Chai - (several :D)

Shir Shel Yom Rishon: Psalm 24 - Gad Elbaz

Shir Shel Yom Sheni: Psalm 48 - Ribi David Kadoch, z"l

Shir Shel Yom Shlishi: Psalm 82 - Tor Marquis

Shir Shel Yom Revii: Psalm 94 - multiple artists & Psalm 95 - Josh Warshawsky

Shir Shel Yom Chamishi: Psalm 81 - A.K.A. Pella

Shir Shel Yom Shishi: Psalm 93 - Josh Warshawsky

Nigun of the Month: Adar I - Nava Tehila

Lo Yisa Goy - Melita Doostan & Octopretzel

Modah Ani - Lahakat Hallel

Arbeter Froyen - Daniel Kahn

Ribono Shel Olam - Simcha Leiner

Tefilat Haderech - Marni Loffman

Avram Avinu - Arleen Ramirez and The Ladino Music Project; Kuando el Rey Nimrod - Farya Faraji (bonus additional version of Avram Avinu)

Miriam Haneviah - Rabbi Deborah Sacks Mintz

Borei Olam - Dovid Gabay

Yigdal - Our Siddur

Old Time Medley - Nefesh Mountain

Halev Sheli - Ishay Ribo

Ein Od Milvado - Avraham Fried & Tomer Adaddi

Dror Yikra - Rabbi Deborah Sacks Mintz

Evening Prayer - Ezra Furman

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai - Matt Dubb

Ivri Anochi - Benny Friedman

Hana Mash Hu Al Yamin - A-WA

Lo Nirga - Avihai Hollender

Yismechu - Batya Levine

V'Shamru Nigun - Rabbi Deborah Sacks Mintz

Omed ba'Shaar - Lahakat Hallel

Milemala - Chaim Shlomo Mayesz

Machar - Mordechai Shapiro

Bashana Haba'ah - Melita and Isaac

Ante Abate - U-da/Yehuda Pardo

We Rise - Batya Levine

Lecha Dodi - Nava Tehila (two versions)

Vurka - Avrum Mordche

Mincha - Mendel Roth

Hashem Melech - Gad Elbaz & Nissim Black

Adon Olam - Kedmah

Guf Venshama - Yaakov Shwekey

Hakol Mishamayim - Mordechai Shapiro

Ana Bekoach - Lahakat Hallel

Ashrei - Pri Eitz Hadar/R' Shefa Gold

Va'ani Ashir Uzecha - Josh Warshawsky

[streetkid-named-desire]

one shot tag game

tagged by @luvwich to hype up one of your one shots by sharing an excerpt.

This is haaarrrddddd. There are a few that I really really love and that I've hyped before.

I'm gonna choose one of V's origin fics. It's the day his parents died.

Eitan Ezra ben Guerra

V sat on the last pale wooden pew inside Temple Beth - Night City. His suit felt tight and scratchy. Seemingly the runt of all the other kids his age, he swung his feet back and forth, wishing for just his toes to even touch the ground. He held his dark blue kippah in his hands, running his thumbs across the fine gold embroidery: EITAN EZRA BEN GUERRA 2/14/2065 V felt his face get hot and his eyes wet and heavy. He kicked his feet harder, connecting his toe with the back of the pew in front of him, the thud echoing across the empty hall. He kicked faster and harder, a warrior drumbeat roiling inside him. He screamed. A long, guttural sound filled with rage and sorrow. It ended with a soft cough. His chest felt empty, caved in. He rested his elbows on his legs and held his head in his hands and let the tears flow. Rabbi Leibowitz sat down next to him and rubbed his back, "Shh, I know, I know." "They're the ones that fucking made me do this, why didn't they show?" V sobbed. "I don't know, son. But you did great," the Rabbi said. It wasn't the first time a bar mitzvah was sparsely attended in Night City, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But it always hurt the same. He sat with the boy in silence until he'd cried himself out of tears. V hiccuped and wiped his nose across the sleeve of his suit. "Will you call Padre?" V asked. His eyes were red and puffy, and he had a headache. He just wanted to go home and work on fixing the busted cyberdeck he found in the dumpster on the concourse at his megabuilding yesterday. "Already did, Vincent," the Rabbi said. He'd called the man as soon he heard V scream.

[beastbitten]

What does your muses name mean?

Meaning: strong; enduring; firm

Ethan is a baby boy name of Hebrew origin, meaning “strong,” “enduring,” and “firm.” If you intend to raise baby in the Jewish or Christian faith, you might enjoy the theory that Ethan derives from the name Eitan. In the Hebrew Bible, Eitan is wise, skillful, and the author of the Book of Psalm. Today, the name Ethan can be found across the globe in countries like Spain, Canada, and the United States. With the name Ethan, baby can always depend on their inner strength!

tagged by: @thecockysniper, thank you! <33333 tagging: @ofchiralium, @arcanescholxr, @uncxntrxllable, @carnivorare, @anedendarkly, @detectivewoof, @fangsforhire && anyone who hasn't done it yet.

[yiddenheroes]

PAREVE WITH YOU

Amidst a sea of green grass, people of all ages relaxed and played. At Henwood Park, in addition to a large green field that drew in players of soccer, tag, and more, there was a playground with a swingset, which children climbed and ran around as parents and guardians watched on from benches. 

It was one of those Sundays where the sun was out but it wasn’t too hot, a crisp spring day with cherry-and-crabapple-blossom-snow and the occasional breeze that warranted a light jacket. 

This was the place that Basya and Caleb first met. 

Basya was playing soccer on the grassy field. A  young girl with dark brown hair, dressed in a colorful striped long sleeved shirt and blue skirt, she chased the ball around with her brothers, two twin twelve year olds four years older than she was, and some other children who had joined. She was known for being a spunky and curious kid who sometimes didn’t realize when something was appropriate to say or not. Or, rather, she didn’t care. She had lived in Henwood her entire life, in the same house just a few blocks away from the park. 

Knees covered in dirt from falling down a few times, she kicked the ball towards the two trees that had been designated as the barriers of the opposite team’s goal - and missed, by a large margin. 

Instead of sailing through as she had hoped, the ball flew left, landing just shy of a couple walking their dog, who started to bark, and rolled to the edge of a blue picnic blanket. 

Apologizing profusely to the couple who was very kind despite the fact that they had almost been bludgeoned with a soccer ball - though admittedly and understandably a little annoyed - Basya then went to get the ball. 

It had ended up at the blanket of a family of four - a father, a mother, a young boy, and a baby girl with chubby cheeks and a bow. Caleb, who was wearing a blue kippah with a firetruck on it, had gotten up and kicked the ball back to Basya as she approached. Caleb and his family had just moved to Henwood from Canada. The picnic in the park was their first real family outing. His mother - Basya was assuming she was his mother, based on the fact that they looked very similar with their wavy black hair and dark skin - smiled softly at her, then at her son.

“Caleb, why don’t you go play with her?” The woman asked the boy. Though, it was in French, so Basya didn’t actually know what she said.  

Caleb shyly looked down and shuffled his feet. Seeing his unusual behavior, Basya deduced that he wanted something - and what would he want, other than to join the game?

“You want to play?” She asked him. 

He looked up and nodded. She got the feeling he was a boy of few words. 

“Alright, let’s go then!”

She waved him over and then kicked the ball back to where her brothers and the other children were waiting. She heard the scuffle of the boy’s sneakers on the grass as he joined her. 

For the next hour, they kicked the ball back and forth. The teams switched a few times, and Basya landed in the dirt a few more times as well. Soon, though, it was time for Basya and her brothers to walk home. 

Eitan, one of the twins, nudged Basya before they left and thrust his chin in the direction of Caleb. 

Ah, right.

“Thank you for playing with me!” Basya said.

Caleb just looked down and nodded. 

Neither of them knew it, but this wasn’t the only time they would meet. Far from it. 

Basya Schechter came from a long line of, well, shohets, or religious butchers. Back in Eastern Europe, her family had been the provider for the village in terms of meat. Once they came to America, they continued the profession, until Basya’s grandfather decided to open up a delicatessen in the city. Over the years, it grew in business, and chain stores appeared; one of them in Henwood. Basya’s father had been assigned to manage the Henwood chain, and thus she had grown up in the restaurant business as the daughter of a deli owner. Schechter’s was a beloved staple in the community, the true epitome of a kosher deli. Located on Central Avenue in Henwood, it was thriving with several regulars. 

Caleb Halevi came from short line of chefs. His father’s family had moved from Morocco to Paris, where his father had grown up. Inspired by the French chefs and the masterful foods they made, Calev’s father had resolved to be a world renowned chef with his own cafe. Years later, after marrying his wife and moving to Canada and then America, he finally achieved his dream, opening up the dairy French styled cafe Oui Cafe. Also located on Central Avenue in Henwood, it quickly gained business and was thriving as one of the dairy options in the area. 

Quickly, the two families became aware of each other. How could they not, when their restaurants were right next to each other? Or, rather, one store down - separated by Super Sushi, a sushi place. But they went to different shuls, and their children to different schools and camps - and though they each ate at the other’s place sometimes, they weren’t overly familiar. The parents knew each other. The children did not. 

Along a sea of green grass, there was a walkway in the park. Oftentimes on Shabbat people would walk in the park, children playing on the playground or running around. Only a few blocks away from Henwood Park, fourteen year old Basya decided to go for a Shabbat walk. Usually she’d walk with friends, but today she wanted to be alone. A little moody after a fight she had gotten into with her brother Aaron, she’d rather be by herself to stew.

Dressed in a dark blue dress with a light blue puffer jacket, Basya walked along the winding pathways of the park, face stormy. The sky was similarly overcast - it wasn’t long until it started to drizzle. Families left the park, but Basya looped around and started walking the paths again. She wasn’t quite ready to go home. 

Quickly, though, the drizzle turned into a downpour. Grumbling about the weather that was definitely not dressed for, Basya sped-walked toward the gazebo in the middle of the park. There were benches in the gazebo one of which she plopped down on, deciding to wait out the downpour. Reluctantly, of course. She was still in a mood. 

“Ah, shoot,” she heard someone say. 

A young man with a head full of curls ran into the gazebo. Caleb hadn’t been prepared for the rain either - his light jacket wasn’t even waterproof, and he was a little soaked just from the short walk across the park to the gazebo. Basya recognized him - he was in Oui Cafe sometimes. She was pretty sure he was related to the owners somehow.

“Good Shabbos,” Basya greeted.

“Shabbat shalom,” Caleb responded. 

It was just the two of them in the semi-enclosed space, rain beating down on the room and pouring around them. It was nice. Peaceful.

Unfortunately, Basya wasn’t the kind of person who could go too long without some kind of noise. She felt it was a little inappropriate, talking to a random boy she had just met, but her frustration had been overshadowed by her awareness of another human being in close proximity also aware of her, when it was just the two of them there. 

“You got caught in the rain, too, huh?” 

Caleb looked at her. He looked down. Basya felt like she recognized him from somewhere else, like she knew this looking away move. 

“Yeah,” he said, slightly muffled from where his chin was tucked into his collar. 

Internally, Caleb was panicking. Why did she insist on talking? He wasn’t very good at talking. He hoped that she would notice his discomfort and cease trying to make conversation. 

Basya, however, took his response as a good sign and pressed onward. After all, if he was responding, maybe they could pass the time talking instead of just sitting there in awkward silence. 

A thought occurred to her, that he may be a creep. But in this case, she really seemed like more of the creep, trying to talk to him - it was probably fine. 

“I was walking in the park,” she explained. He hadn’t asked. “The rain caught me by surprise.”

“...Me too.” 

Right. Basya bit her tongue, trying to think of more things to say. It would probably be better not to say anything else - the poor boy seemed awkward enough. But she really did feel incapable of just being quiet. 

“You work at Oui, right? I’ve seen you there a few times.” 

This got Caleb to look at her in shock and slight wariness. He squinted, then his eyes widened. “It was your brothers’ birthday the other day,” he said. “They got a cake.”

“Yeah!” Basya confirmed. “That was us.”

“Ah,” said Caleb. He relaxed a little. “I work there sort-of. My parents run the restaurant, so sometimes I help out.”

Basya’s eyes widened. “Really? My parents own Schechter’s, right next door.”

“Really? I’ve never been there.” His shoulders shrugged up as soon as he said that. “But I know it!”

Great going, Caleb, he thought. 

That was a little awkward to admit, especially since Basya had said she’d gone to his family’s restaurant. But she also appreciated the honesty. 

To be honest, the boy was kind of cute. He had curly black hair and brown eyes, and seemed a little shy. He also had on a blue kippah…it ticked her memory a little but she wasn’t sure why. 

They chatted a little bit more. After a few minutes, the rain let up.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” Basya asked as the boy stood up to leave. 

“I’m Caleb,” the boy - Caleb - said. 

She smiled. “Basya.” 

Caleb left the gazebo, leaving Basya alone. She contemplated waiting for the rain to let up a little more but figured it would take too long and decided to walk in the light drizzle.

It was as she walked past the green field that she remembered a little boy in a blue kippah with a firetruck, with curly dark hair and a shy demeanor. 

What were the chances?

 Apparently quite high. Not a few weeks later, it turned out that both of their families had been invited to the same meal on Pesach.

The Wines were good family friends of the Halevis, and had been since shortly after they had moved from Canada. Malkie Wine’s daughter was in the same class as Rebecca, the Halevi’s little girl, and the two became fast friends. Recently, Malkie Wine the mother had become close friends with Basya’s mother after attending the same Chabad challah-making event and acquiring each others’ numbers. Thus, the Schechters too were invited. 

The Wines’ house was beautiful, a colonial style house in old Henwood painted yellow. Reached after trekking across several back streets, it had a variety of tulips already planted and blooming. Pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds swayed in the slight breeze and stretched towards the shining sun overhead. The walk itself had been a little hot, and everyone walking was relieved to come inside and have a drink of water. 

The Schechters arrived before the Halevis. Basya’s father liked to be early - not too much, because that was rude - but just enough that left time for if something happened on the way that would take a few extra minutes. The five of them - Basya’s mother and father, Aaron, Eitan, and Basya - were sweating. Basya was in a dark blue dress - in fact, it was the same one she had worn in the park a few weeks back in the rain when she had met Caleb for the second time.

She still couldn’t get over that meeting. What a strange thing, to run into someone in the same place again after so many years. 

Imagine her shock when it was announced that the Halevis had arrived - a little late - a group of five as well, the parents, an eight year old girl named Rebecca, a younger girl named Shani, and Caleb. 

Basya was surprised to see Caleb again, but also pleased. Part of her had been hoping to somehow run into the cute boy from the park that she had shared that half hour with. 

Caleb probably thought she was stalking him, though, she thought. That put a bit of a damper on her mood, but not enough to completely douse it. 

Caleb, meanwhile, was hoping Basya wasn’t thinking the same thing about him. 

“Hi!” She said when she saw him. 

His eyes widened with shock. “Oh. Hi.”

His mother looked between the two of them curiously. “Do you know each other?” 

Malkie tuned in, “Oh, the two of you are already friends? That’s so great!”

“Not really,” Caleb said. 

“We got stuck in a gazebo together,” Basya explained. 

Caleb’s mother had a knowing look on her face. “Ah.” 

“I don’t know the story,” Caleb’s father said.

“How about we talk about it over lunch?” Offered Malkie. 

At some point, it came up that Oui Cafe was having a post Pesach event. Caleb’s father explained that it was for mimouna, a Maghrebi Jewish dinner tradition for the return to chametz. It was the first year that the cafe was doing it.

“How do you plan to pull that off, getting stuff so soon after Pesach?” Basya asked. 

“Well, it takes a while,” Caleb’s father explained. “But you know how people are. Until one o’clock they’re willing to stay up to get chametz. The pizza stores are always open late.”

“That’s how he got the idea,” Caleb’s mother chimed in. “You should come,” she added. 

Basya did not end up going. She caught a stomach bug from a friend and could barely get up, nonetheless attend a special celebration at a restaurant. 

Like ocean waves rearing back and forth, shelves of books loomed overhead, stacks at various heights. One could be swallowed by the stacks, if they weren’t careful, but there was a beauty to them. And, though many didn’t know it, an order as well. But that was a secret the owner of the shop liked to keep to himself. 

What were the chances indeed of these two running into each other? Yet here they were, in the same bookstore. Caleb was there as a customer; meanwhile, Basya’s seminary had set her up with a job working there. It had been a few months since they had last run into each other. Despite this, there was no awkwardness. 

“Hi!” She greeted, just like she had four years prior. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Caleb said. He then stammered, “I mean, this is a surprise.”

It wasn’t too odd for them to run into each other anymore. Every year since she was fourteen, Basya had been attending meals at the Wines’ house, and Caleb and his family were often there. Plus, going to high school in the same area, they sometimes ran into each other when out for lunch. But this was the first time they ran into each other in a few months.

This particular bookstore was often frequented by Americans, and thus the owner preferred having English-speaking workers. Basya enjoyed working there, though she could do without some of the customers. 

“Here for something in particular, or just browsing?” Basya asked. 

Caleb hesitated. Sort of to the first option, also sort of to the second option, he was there looking for a gift. He knew the genre that the person liked, but he mostly read non-fiction. He told Basya as such. 

“What kind of genre do they like?”

“Uh, sci-fi mostly.” 

What he didn’t tell her was that it was for Ayelet, a girl he had been dating recently. It was her birthday soon. He had no idea what to get her, and had been agonizing over it for a while, when he remembered that she had declared she loved science fiction when they were first getting to know each other. 

Basya hummed in thought. Slowly, she had begun to understand the organization of the book store as well, to a certain degree. 

“Have they read Ender’s Game?”

“Yeah. That was one of the first things she mentioned.” He blushed, realizing he had let the pronoun slip. He was very private about these kinds of things. And for some reason, it felt weird talking about it with Basya. 

Basya felt the urge to rib him a little, maybe ask when they had first gotten together, but even she knew that there were certain limits on things, and her and Caleb weren’t actually that close. Despite the teeny, tiny crush she may have had on him for a few years…

“Well, we also have these options!” 

She led him over to where many of the science fiction novels were. In the end, he couldn’t choose between two books.

“Just get her both,” Basya said with a smile, hoping the slight pangs she was feeling didn’t show through. 

Caleb didn’t understand why he felt so awkward talking about this with Basya. She was a friend - not quite a good friend, but someone he had known for a while. 

“Thank you,” he said, and then again after purchasing the books.

“I hope she likes them!” Basya exclaimed. 

Caleb, like he always did, left first. 

A nice cafe in the city. 

Caleb had always thought that cafes were perfect first dates. Light meals, easygoing atmosphere. In the time you spent drinking coffee and having a cinnamon bun you know if you wanted the date to continue or not. At least, that was how he felt. He had only dated two people, and both of them had started out with cafe dates - so maybe he was doing something wrong. 

But here he was again, doing the cafe thing. With a girl who should have been there half an hour ago. 

Just then, his phone binged. 

Hi, I’m sorry. I’m not really ready to start dating yet? I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble.

Ah. 

Well.

He was disappointed, but there wasn’t really anything he could do. In that case, it was about time he finished the coffee he had  been slowly sipping for the past half hour. The baristas had been giving him weird looks anyway. 

He was just about done - the coffee had gone cold long before - when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He looked up. Standing there in a brown shirt and cream-colored skirt was Basya. Today she had glasses on instead of contact lenses, and was looking at him bemused. 

“We need to stop running into each other like this.” 

Caleb smiled softly. “I don’t know, it’s kind of fun. I never know when we’re going to run into each other.”

Basya laughed. It was a beautiful sound. “I guess there is something to random meetings.” She gestured at his coffee cup. “Drinking alone?” 

Caleb remembered that he had been ditched, and his happiness deflated. “I wasn’t supposed to be. It was going to be a date but she, uh, couldn’t make it.”

Basya nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well. What are you going to do?” Hoping to change the direction of the conversation, he asked, “What are you doing here?” 

Basya cringed. “Funny you mention dates abandoning you. I was supposed to meet this guy here, but he texted me that he couldn’t make it either. I didn’t see the message until after I got off the subway, so I figured I may as well get lunch and make something of the day, you know?” 

“Well,” Caleb said. “You can have this table. I was just leaving.” 

“Wait,” said Basya. Caleb paused. She had a strange look on her face. “Have you had lunch yet?” 

“Uh, no.”

And then, in her usual manner, masking any discomfort or awkwardness that she was feeling, Basya said, “Do you want to eat first then?” 

“I mean. You mean here?” 

“Sure. I meant. Sorry, I shouldn’t have butted in. I can get another table-”

And then, very much against his usual shy, quiet manner, Caleb spoke up. “Why don’t you eat here? I mean, why don’t we eat together?”

Basya raised her eyebrows. “Together?”

Caleb blushed. “Well, it doesn’t have to be together. I just figured since you’re here, and I’m here..” his voice trailed off. He wasn’t quite sure what else to say. 

Luckily, Basya smiled softly. “Sure. I’d love to.” 

Amidst a sea of flowers and white cloth sat a bride. Dressed in a gorgeous white gown with hennaed fingers, she wore a tiara like a princess. Sitting patiently, awaiting her prince to come and bring the veil over her face. 

The bride’s name was Basya. She came from a long line of shohets, or religious butchers. Her family ran a kosher deli called Schechters in Henwood. 

Soon, the groom would be escorted to his bride, surrounded by his friends. At the moment, he was focusing on signing the marriage contract. 

The groom’s name was Caleb. He came from a short line of chefs. His family ran a kosher dairy restaurant called Oui Cafe, also in Henwood. 

The families, the Schechters and the Halevis, knew each other, and got along well. Basya and Caleb had known each other, well, technically since they were eight years old. 

In a short time, hands in matching rings would clasp each other.

What were the chances?

[mistermixmania]

CYPRESS HILL feiern 30. Jahrestag von “Black Sunday” mit Expanded Edition 📣 https://mister-mixmania.com/de/news/musik-news/cypress-hill-feiern-30-jahrestag-von-black-sunday-mit-expanded-edition/ Tagged as Black Sunday, Cypress Hill Weed-Smoke, Sirenen, Los Angeles am Abgrund: Das zweite Album von Cypress Hill veränderte die Welt der Rap-Musik nachhaltig. Erschienen am 20. Juli 1993, schaffte es “Black Sunday” mit seinem lateinamerikanischen ..... : #musiknews #musik #BlackSunday #CypressHill Foto Credits: Eitan Miskevich

[ilov3b00kss0much]

ooooh my favorite is “or eitan” I can’t find any recordings of it but I’ll record myself doing it maybe later

Open tags!!!

Mutuals.

what are your favourite holiday song(s)? It can be about Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Yule, or just a song you think is nice, whatever, I wanna know!

@marbledew @nanochittle @wet-leaf @ilov3b00kss0much @lemonbaloni @ant-bunny @catinasink & eeeverybody else open tags, don't feel forced to answer thoughh

happy holidays !!

[girlpire]

Yasmin was excluded from the last post bc she’s out with Eitan you see

commissions are available

[magnetothemagnificent]

Okay, so I've gotten a ton of new followers lately, and I think I should reintroduce myself.

Hi, I'm Eitan Meshullam Chai, but you can call me Eitan.

I'm a Jewish trans man and my pronouns are he/him/his.

I post a lot about what interests me at the moment on this blog, be it Judaism, fandom, activism, history, dentistry, or really anything.

Recently a lot of my blog has shifted more towards talking about Judaism and antisemitism, and I welcome respectful questions because I believe education is key in fighting the less-obvious aspects of antisemitism. Please don't be afraid to ask questions, I'd rather you ask questions than come to wrong conclusions. But please be respectful, and if it's a question about a specific post of mine, please first check the notes to see if I already answered it, because it's very likely I already did.

Here is a post I made with a bunch of resources for learning more about Judaism, as well.

Some other big informative posts:

The Six Sexes in Judaism

About hostility towards tweens

Fake News Checklist

About supercessionist ideology among antitheists

Debunking misinformation about circumcision

Common Jewish stereotypes

I tag things both for myself and others, so here are a few of my tag categories:

#fandom negative : For when I criticize certain aspects of fandom culture. It could be a specific fandom, or fandom in general.

#judaism : pretty self explanatory. For when I post about Judaism.

#my art : also pretty self explanatory. For when I post my art.

#goodomens : I find that the Good Omens fandom is pretty toxic, so I don't tag my posts or fanworks about Good Omens with the popular 'Good Omens' tag for that reason. I still need a way to sort my post though, so that's why the tag has no space in between the words.

#marvel : posts about anything having to do with Marvel.

#if jew know jew know : a tag for posts that are targetted specifically at my Jewish followers, or contain references or jokes only Jews will probably understand, or discuss intracommunity issues for Jews only to discuss. Basically, if you see a post with this tag, I'm not excluding gentiles, but it's a post that gentiles might not understand and that's okay.

#dentistry : If you don't know, dentistry is my passion, and I'm on my long journey to eventually becoming a dentist.

#trans : self explanatory. I'm trans, I post a lot about being trans.

#disability : I'm disabled, sometimes I post about it or about issues related to disability rights.

#history : For posts about history. Posts about Jewish history are also tagged as 'Jewish history' in addition.

I have a lot of tags, but these are just a few of my most popular ones.

Anyway, thanks for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy your stay.

If you'd like to leave a tip, I have a Kofi. If you'd like to get access to unposted art, I have a patreon.

Help me pay for top surgery!

[elegyofthemoon]

avil bb!!! i know we're not very close but you are such a sweet person!!! plus!!! i admire your activism 🥺. i personally think you should let loose more though. voice out more of your thoughts!!!

ASKLDJFHASDKFHSSLKJASK listen if i voiced my thoughts more majority of those posts are just going to be "man this characters so neat what if i kissed them--" we do not need that here LMAO

[fake-ascension]

really excited for this guy

[copperbadge]

Was Shivadhverse tag and saw the Duke of Orange being a thing in the Netherlands post and I love the idea of like the Dutch being 100% chill with Eddie sharing the title, but I imagine a bunch of Americans who like literlay just learned about these countries have some strong opinions about him "stealing and sullying" the title. So much so that like the person who actually has the title is so annoyed at these busy bodies annoying his new friend Eddie that he just like formally adopts Eddie as like a co-holder of the title(I have no idea how royalty/aristocracy actually works) Anyway all this is simply preamble for the funny thought of Eddie's title becoming inheritable because of nosy busybody Americans and also him like kinda being the more aristocracy/royal of him and Gregory because his title is inheritable and slightly higher though he has no actual power. Like their kid is in the peerage not cause Gregs king, but cause Eddie found a joke and rolled high enough charisma that he somehow got a title out of it.

LOL! That would be a bit funny :D And actually very like what Michaelis's brother Eitan did -- he was the son of a king but the grandson of a commoner and his children wouldn't have been titled, except he married into a dukedom. I mean, regardless, Jerry would have grown up running around the palace with Gregory because Michaelis knows the importance of family, but Jerry's a heritable duke because his dad made a Fortunate Match. :D Perhaps Eddie can be granted a royal charter of some kind in the Netherlands.

I got enough commentary (presumably from the Dutch) about the whole Orange thing that I ended up including a reference to it in the story:

"Never mind, I know exactly what he'd tell you," Gregory said. "He'd say be the Duke of the Orange." 

"Why?"

"Well, orange is one of the colors of the flag. Also it would troll the Dutch, who think they have a wholesale claim on any peerage relating to anything orange. But mostly because Duke in Latin is Dux," Gregory said, giving it the proper vowel sound -- ducks. "And thus you'd be the Dux A L'Orange." 

[shivadh]

This is the research/storage tumblr for material related to Sam Starbuck/@copperbadge’s writing; most specifically the Shivadhverse, a series of romance novels, although other “ideas” posts are sprinkled throughout. 

Tags Index

Character Tags

eddie rambler

Gregory iii

gerald ben eitan

alanna daskaz

noah deimos

jes deimos

michaelis ben jason

Monday rambler

simon lefevre

jason michaelis

caleb canto

Royal librarian

noah's dad

georgie altaras

monday rambler

Princeps ioanna

Writing Tags

random ideas -- Stuff I don’t know what to do with yet

research -- Specific to ideas I have

fishing lodge history -- History related to the fishing lodge/wwii

future novels -- Ideas for future stories (not stuff within future stories, like whole-ass future novels)

not shivadh -- ideas for non-shivadh stories (good place to stash em)

reference -- information to preserve about the books

Shivadh Tags

shivadh judaism -- specific Jewish customs in Askazer-Shivadlakia

shivadh culture -- Cultural norms and traditions outside of Judaism

Specific Novel Tags

the chicken salad war

Roman ruin

Where the oleander grows

shivadh rfc

the nantucketer

shivadh alan turing

Other Stuff

marketing

[hklnvgl]

i was tagged by @ailec-12 💕

Last book I...

bought: love by maayan eitan

borrowed: silk by alessandro baricco (from the library!)

was gifted: i honestly can't remember. people don't gift me books anymore (probably in fear i'll have already read them😅)

gave/lent to someone: hm my mum borrows books from me all the time so probably something i lent to her

started: mo dao zu shi by mo xiang tong xiu volume 2!

finished: hozuki by shimazaki aki

gave five stars: hozuki too, but before that three by dror mishani

did *not* finish: the english patient by michael ondatjee

Personal recs:

this year i've read so many wonderful books! hamnet by maggie o'farrel was a delight. the happening by annie ernaux was also great! and the accusation by bandi was another very surprisingly enjoyable read!

tagging @flitwickslittlebrotha @ive-garden @kelliealtogether @parrished @purgatorybfs @andrea-lyn if you guys feel like talking about books 🤭

[firespirited]

What I’ve been up to:

Deflocking Tokyo Eitan and painting over his tag holes, adding more dolls to ebay (at saffyruth - i’ll ship anywhere except USA and Canada until I do some postal tests), I did have a bunch of “head only” customs but I’m gradually bodying everyone as they sell better to the french audience.

Doing some kludged gradient dye tests: the wine pink was first dyed with blue ink except the roots, it mostly washed out but left enough stain for a greyish lilac. Not sure there’s enough for a barbie reroot but there’s plenty more wine mermaid dye (it’s my own hair stuff - mix with peroxide and 30 minutes will give you 3 months of shockingly vivid hair) - it takes quite long to develop alone but gives a nice solid colour if you’re willing to wait overnight. The blue was dyed with the last drops of semi permanent blue. I’m using hair harvested from a $4.50 bait Amaya head as it’s tough iceberg nylon instead of easily snagged (and hard to reroot) kiwi.

Not yet willing to blow 10-12€ each for a Cyan Magenta Yellow + Black set of semi permanent dyes from amazon for something that may or may not become part of my skillset. But I spent $8 total on cheapo yellow + blue and am willing to give it an honest try! If it’s something that works out, sure okay, I’ll invest in supplies but eh, I’m not looking to make dolls with human looking hair -  I far prefer working with saran and using gradients for that glossy fantasy hair look.

Like sure i’m cheap but also not that excited about learning 1/6th scale colorist skills right now: the blocking required for 7mm dark roots took a lot of mental engineering work (it worked though: a clean cut off of dark wine over 18mm using twisty ties and a soap bar).