#i've not produced a person myself yet

[lazylittledragon]

no she's not coping thank you so much for asking

(extra page for my patronis <3)

[seventh-district]

again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.

[kedreeva]

A couple months back, my neighbor wanted to get some Spitzhauben hatching eggs for his wife, so he asked me for help finding some good ones, from a good breeder. So I dug around for a bit, since Spitz are a bit of a rare breed, and found a few options that looked decent. One of them happened to be in Michigan with us, maybe a little over an hour from us, so I arranged to go pick them up in person to avoid the stresses of shipping on the eggs.

I picked up a dozen (baker's dozen, she added a few extra just in case), and a half dozen of the Marans eggs for myself (she gave me a discount because fertility hadn't been tested yet, as long as I promised to report growth/hatch rate and update about what comes out) because she claimed to have good quality and her eggs looked to be decent quality. She was really nice, very chatty, and the eggs looked great in person, too.

12 of the spitz eggs hatched, and 3 of the BCM. The BCM chicks looked great but they were being stressed OUT by the quail chicks they were in with, so I snuck them into the brooder with the spitz when I closed up the neighbor's birds one evening while they were out.

I've visited them a few times since, and they've been looking good, but they're finally to an age where on the BCM you can tell sex- perfect ratio, one rooster, two hens.

Now, I used to keep and breed BCM a long time ago. I had wanted to get into showing (never got around to it for several reasons), and I'd dealt with several lines. My original line that I'd mixed from a couple different people always produced REALLY stellar roosters- big lads with sweet, docile personalities that were 100% ready to die for their ladies, whom they always treated well. For roosters, those are all REALLY important qualities. The ideal is a rooster that treats his ladies well, is willing to fight to the death to defend them if something comes after them BUT--- importantly can tell the difference between a predator and a human who is messing with the hens (picking up, moving, treating w/ meds, whatever). Ideally, if a hen makes a noise of distress, the rooster come BOLTING to her at top fucking speed ready to kick ass, but stops dead if he sees it's just a human. And I HAD that- I used to sell the roosters to folks (SELL them, I never had to give away a rooster) as flock protectors, and I would get people coming back to buy another after their guy died defending the girls while free ranging. It's sad, but it's also one of two reasons to have a rooster.

And I see all the time people posting about their mean roosters, about how to handle roosters that are mean to humans, or people telling others oh the rooster is just young and roosters are mean when they're young and they'll mellow out when they get older, just keep putting up with it. Power through.

NO! There is almost* NEVER a reason to tolerate a nasty rooster- one that's mean to the girls, or to humans. This BCM rooster is only a few months old, but you can already see the purpose that's been bred into him. I picked up one of his girls and she went :( and he came RUNNING over to see what was wrong, looked me up and down and went nah that's cool, and then checked on all the other girls. Just in case. I went to move them from their cage to the big play pen that's set up for them, and I thought oh this is going to be a circus, trying to catch them all. The Spitzhauben were acting insane, like I was trying to kill them by looking at them. I braced the carry bin on the edge of the door, expecting to reach in to (try to) grab each bird and put them in. But no. This rooster walked over, got in, called the others, and they all chilled right out, came over and jumped into the bin with him. He's in the playpen right now just watching over all the others. If someone gets into an argument, he runs over and gets between them, and then checks on them both after. When he lies down, the others come lie down with him. On him.

THIS is what a good rooster looks like. Not in a year, not in two years. Right from the getgo, the instincts are all there. Hormones shouldn't eliminate/supercede this behavior- they shouldn't turn a bird into an asshole. They should instigate a second set of rooster behaviors- dancing/courting, tidbitting, and mating attempts. Running girls ragged, pulling feathers, causing injury, attacking people- these are all poor breeding and/or handling problems. These are things that can (and SHOULD) be selected against when breeding fowl

*The "almost" never is that a breeder starting out may not have a choice when it comes to shitty personalities- they may find themselves having to tolerate the least shitty for a few generations, until the personalities show improvement. In this case, most (good) breeders know better than to dump the wash outs on the unsuspecting, and will instead do hard culls for food or sell to folks raising food or who are aware of the personality problems. In any case any tolerance should be an in-progress tolerance, not an endgame result.

[kingofthewilderwest]

To everyone who asked, and to everyone who didn't:

Yes. I have somewhere between 1,000 and 2,000 of TwoSet's videos, all in HD quality. LINK BELOW

Earlier this year in 2024, I downloaded every single TwoSet Violin public video from their YouTube and scoured other sites like Bilibili and Facebook to get videos they'd deleted from at least one platform. My goal was to make some fandom compilation videos that'd require going through every video.

I do not have the last few months of 2024 (which I'm kicking myself for... I literally almost did a download update on SUNDAY). But I have almost everything.

2 mil, 3 mil, 4 mil, Fantasia, Hilary Hahn or Ray Chen collabs, Producer Shaun, professional versus beginner, violin charades, that cheeky skit you shared on Facebook in 2016

Their world tour VODs, including my own personal captures of their latest VOD stream

Some of the content from their Facebook kickstarter livestreams that I found from other fans.

I've been collecting all their TikTok videos currently, too. I've downloaded a spattering of their Instagram stories from 2024 and might have a small collection of recent Instagram videos, too.

I do not have everything, but I have a fuckton and I want to share it with as many people as possible, and collaborate with as many people as possible to fill in the missing pieces.

Please contact me if you have your own archives or know people working on other archives. I'm talking with a few people about starting a Google Drive project, but I don't know the big names in the TSV fandom and thus could be missing out on people who've done a lot of other work

It's more likely that this will clear over in the coming days / weeks / month / whatever and we'll have their official channel again. I'm still going to keep believing that. But it doesn't erase the importance of making sure the media we love doesn't become lost media. I have respect for content creators to monitor what does and doesn't stay on their platform, but for the sake of preservation of media, for the sake of helping a community, I want to make sure this archive is in place and widely accessible to TwoSetters.

My current cloud server is VERY MUCH a work in progress. I am in the middle of an extremely busy week and trying to do this around an office job and a half. It will take me time to upload everything, and even more time to organize everything. But the cloud server link is active, and I will keep people updated about the progress of my archiving through a PDF text file (not yet uploaded) in said cloud. If I collaborate with people for Google Drive systems, if I do other backups, I will let people know there and on my other social media accounts.

I am new and naive to Terabox. I started with Terabox because it's free to upload up to a terabyte of content. I think it should be free to download everything in full quality, but I don't know. People should inform me how it works. It's currently -- I'm sorry -- VERY poorly organized and requires Scrolling (TM), but short of that issue (which will be fixed with organization), I hope it gets people what they need.

Also: Reddit has suspended me for a few days lol (really I'm getting a slap on the wrist for how blatantly I was marching about), so if people want to start spreading this link to others in private chats elsewhere with known TwoSetters, the more the merrier! The purpose of this is to be a resource, either short-term or long-term.

[noirsfantasy]

𝕽𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊 | 𝖕𝖙. 1

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Michael B Jordan as Adonis Creed x Black!Plus-sized Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Smut

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 ➛ Creed

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛3.4k

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛A chance encounter between you and Adonis at a label party turns into a passionate and intense romantic night.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛Guys, guys, GUYSSSSSS!!! Y'all are gonna love this one, I'M TELLING YOU! You won't be disappointed.

Next Part

My heels click loudly as I make my way into a large bustling event. I had been invited by my best friend, Bianca to attend the label party she set up for one of her artists. As I walk in, my heart races with excitement as the buzz of the crowd fills my ears. I had been to a few of these exclusive events before and I knew how to dress the part. I'm dressed to impress, my black dress hugging my curvy frame and accentuating my hips. My hair, curled to perfection, falls gently onto my shoulders, and my red purse adds a touch of sophistication to my look.

I feel a buzz from my phone and smile, seeing a text pop up.

"Someone's looking sexy," It reads and I see that it's from Bianca. I scan around the room, looking for her as she's already spotted me. When we make eye contact, I smile and make my way over. She smiles at me and gives me a big hug, which I return.

"I'm so glad you made it!" She tells me as we part.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, B. Besides I'm always down to support my bestie." I reply with a wink, causing Bianca to chuckle.

"You sure you not just tryna steal the show?" She questions playfully as she raises an eyebrow. I giggle and shake my head.

"No way, girl. I just threw something on that I thought would match the theme." I assure her but she purses her lips.

"Really? Cus from what I'm seeing all that ass is getting more attention than my artist." She says, gesturing to my outfit and the way it complements my body. I nudge her shoulder.

"Girl, whatever! That is not true." We share a laugh and I shake my head.

"Anyways, make yourself at home. There's an open bar and, you know, just enjoy yourself. I gotta go talk to these producers real quick." Bianca takes my hand and gives it a squeeze before letting go and walking over to do some networking. I sigh a bit, rubbing my glossy lips together as I look around for anyone familiar.

I'd always been a bit shy, but there's something about being in a room full of celebrities that makes me feel like I'm living a dream. I smooth out my skirt as I weave between people, smiling politely at acquaintances. That's when I see him - Adonis Creed, a famous boxer. I've been a fan of his for a while and, I must say, he's even more breathtaking in person. His brown skin gleams under the warm lights, his goatee and large stud earrings giving him a rugged yet sophisticated edge. And those dimples? Those lips? They can make anyone weak at the knees.

I realize I've been staring when our eyes meet and he holds my gaze for a moment. A smile tugs at his lips and I have to look away quickly to hide the blush that is forming.

As the evening progresses, I find myself crossing paths with him a few times. He'd always give me a charming smile and I'd smile politely back, before going back to what I was doing. Each encounter only serves to leave me feeling more intrigued and attracted to him.

I decide to get a drink from the bar and as I order from the bartender, someone appears next to me.

"I'll have what she's having." He says and I look up to see Adonis. I clear my throat nervously and I smile politely at him as I shift in my seat. He smiles back, taking in the way I cross my legs, my movements effortless and sexy. The heat starts to rise in my cheeks as I feel his eyes on me. "I gotta say," He starts, leaning against the bar. "You killing with that outfit." I meet his eyes once more and smile at the flattery.

"Thank you, glad to know my efforts haven't gone unnoticed," I reply as the bartender hands me my drink. I thank him and then look back at Adonis.

"Yeah, you caught my eye from across the room. But I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before. What's your name?" He inquires, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel a blush creeping onto my face as I take a sip from my drink for courage.

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you." I introduce myself, holding my hand out. He takes my hand in his, giving it a gentle shake before lifting it to his lips and landing a soft kiss on my knuckles.

"The pleasure's all mine, Y/N. I'm Donnie." He replies, his grip on my hand lingering for a bit before letting go. The action sends butterflies through my body. "You a friend of Bianca's?" He asks.

"Yeah, her best friend, actually," I say with a chuckle, taking another sip of my drink and feeling the warmth rise through my chest. Adonis raises an eyebrow in pleasant surprise.

"I thought your name sounded familiar," He says with a smile, his eyes studying my face. "She mentioned you a few times. Said you were important to her." His gaze roams over me, enjoying how the alcohol visibly loosens me up.

"Really? That's sweet. I never knew she talked about me to other people." I hide a bashful smile, appreciating my friendship with the producer.

"Although, I've gotta admit, her descriptions of you don't do you justice at all." The compliment rolls off of his tongue easily, but it's clear he means every word. I find myself blushing again and laughing softly as I look away. There's an undeniable spark between us and, as we speak, my shy nature seems to dissipate. We find ourselves engaging in witty banter, my lips curling into a smile as I match his flirty tone.

"So, you a fan of boxing, gorgeous?" Donnie asks, leaning a little closer, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes seem to see right through me and I get the sense that he's just as interested in me as I am in him.

"Maybe," I reply with a playful grin, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. "It depends on the boxer," I say with a shrug.

"Ah," Donnie shoots back with a wry smile, leaning in even closer. "You've got a type, I see. Let me guess, you're probably into those pretty-boy fighters, the ones who don't get their hands dirty. Guys like Ryan Garcia, maybe?" I tilt my head as if I'm thinking.

"Hmm, no not really. I'm more into the dangerous ones." I say, my eyes locking on his. A wolfish grin spreads across Donnie's lips as I share my preference.

"Ah, so you're after someone who can bring the heat, huh? Someone who gives you that flutter in your chest just by being near them." A pause as Donnie lifts his drink to his lips. "You're not afraid to mix it up and get your hands dirty?" I raise an eyebrow, biting my lip slightly.

"I think getting dirty is part of the fun," I tell him with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, I can promise you, it always is," Donnie replies, his voice low and husky. Our eyes lock, the air between us feeling charged with a heat that wasn't there before. "But be careful, gorgeous," he adds. "Some games can end in a brutal knockout."

"Really? Well, good thing I'm always up for a challenge." A mischievous glint appears in Donnie's eyes as he leans even closer.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Donnie muses, his gaze flickering with a predatory flash. We talk for a bit longer, flirting back and forth until the party eventually draws to a close. I find myself unable to resist the pull between us. With a boldness that surprises even me, I approach him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"So, Donnie," I begin, my voice having a suggestive edge, "are you going to ask for my number, or do I have to make the first move?" A flash of desire crosses his face, and he steps closer, his body radiating heat.

"I think we can skip the whole dating game charade," he murmurs, his lips inches from my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why don't you come back to my place? I'll show you why they call me Big D." My breath quickens as I slowly nod, unable to speak past the lump of desire in my throat. Taking his hand, I let him lead me out of the event and into the night, a delicious anticipation building inside me.

The ride to his place is a blur of streetlights and adrenaline, my body tingling with eagerness. As soon as the door to his home shuts behind me, Donnie presses me up against it, his lips claiming mine in a passionate kiss. I melt into him, my hands roaming over his muscular back, feeling the definition of his powerful body.

His hands find my curves effortlessly, his touch a perfect balance of firmness and gentleness. My body presses against his as my hands caress his jaw and neck, the stubble on his face tickling my skin.

"Damn," Donnie curses under his breath as he pulls away briefly, his lips moving to explore the expanse of my neck. Each kiss leaves fire in its wake and I let out a soft moan, my eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

Breaking the kiss, he looks deeply into my eyes, running his thumb along my bottom lip. Our lips crash together sloppily as I tug at his shirt impatiently.

"Eager, are we now?" Donnie teases, his breath warm against my neck. He gently pushes my hands away and lifts his shirt, revealing chiseled abs and a defined chest. I trace the ridges of his muscles with my fingertips, feeling every contour, every line. I feel like I'm dreaming, but the heat of his body and the taste of his lust on my tongue are all too real.

He lifts me into his arms and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. I feel small in his embrace, but also protected. The way he easily carries my weight and holds me, all while showering my neck with kisses, sends tingles through me. I moan softly, tilting my head to give him better access as my hand rests on the back of his head, my acrylics grazing his scalp. Donnie brings my lips to his once more, sucking on my bottom lip slightly. He carries me into the bedroom, never once breaking the kiss, and lays me down on the edge of the bed.

Donnie's hands slide down my body, tracing the curves of my thighs and legs as he gently slips my heels off. His hands travel up my back his fingers finding the zipper of my dress, slowly pulling it down.

I lift my hips to help him undress me, a playful thrill coursing through me as I expose myself to his hungry gaze. He strips away my clothing until the only thing left are my lacy panties. His eyes rake over my body, taking in every curve, roll, and stretch mark, before returning to my face, the fire in his eyes searing me to my core. He leans down, cupping my breasts and taking my sensitive nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth as I whimper from the pleasure. He kisses the soft skin tenderly, before trailing his finger along my jaw, ghosting over my lower lip as I look up at him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers, kneeling before me and guiding my legs over his shoulders. His fingers run along my outer thighs as he presses a kiss to the damp fabric between my legs, his touch leaving goosebumps in their path. I bite my lip, watching him gaze upon me in a mix of awe and lust. "I've been dying to taste you all night."

A ripple of excitement runs through me as his eyes burn with desire. He pulls my panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. Without another word, he lowers his head, his tongue lapping at my core, flicking my clit and driving me wild.

A strangled moan escapes my lips as his mouth sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. His talented tongue works me over relentlessly, every lick and suck driving me wild with want. My hips buck against his face as I lose myself in the sensations, my hands on the back of his head, pressing him closer.

"Donnie~" I pant breathlessly, aching for more. A low growl rumbles in Adonis's throat as he hears his name fall from my lips.

"That's right, mama," He breaths against my slick folds, sending tingles through my core. His grip on my thighs tightens as he resumes his devouring assault, his tongue lapping and swirling with unyielding hunger. I can feel the vibrations of his moans against my sensitive skin, causing my back to arch off the bed slightly.

A wicked grin spreads across Donnie's face as he feels my body react to his stimulation. He sucks and swirls his tongue around my clit, intent on driving me wild with pleasure. My hands grip the sheets, fueling his desire as he moans against my core. Donnie's strong hands firmly hold me in place as I squirm beneath his grasp.

"Oh god, I'm so close~" I moan as I throw my head back, rolling my hips. Sensing my impending release, Adonis doubles down, his tongue working my swollen bundle of nerves with ruthless precision as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs tremble against his grip as I feel my climax rising to the surface. With one final flick of his tongue, he sends me hurtling over the peak into a crashing wave of ecstasy.

My body tenses as my thighs grip his head, holding him in place as I come undone. Adonis laps up every last drop of my sweet nectar, groaning with unbridled satisfaction. When my tremors finally subside, he slowly pulls back, his lips glistening as he lightly kisses my inner thigh.

"You taste so good, babygirl," he purrs, his voice dripping with lust. I pant heavily as I start to calm down, my racing heart beginning to slow. I whimper softly as he moves up my body, pressing his hardness against my thigh.

Adonis's eyes darken with desire as he hears my whimpers and he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over my lips.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I'm just getting started." His fingers trail up my outer thigh, his touch feather-light but electrifying. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," he whispers before capturing my mouth in a searing, passionate kiss.

My arms wrap around Donnie's neck as I whine into the kiss, tasting myself on his tongue and aching to feel him inside me. He teases me, grinding his clothed cock against my entrance, soaking the fabric. A groan emits from his throat as the delicious friction drives him wild with need. He pulls back just enough to swiftly rid himself of his remaining clothes.

Donnie's cock springs free, thick and throbbing as he positions himself at my entrance. "You feel that, baby?" He rasps, rubbing the tip teasingly against my slick folds.

"Yes-" I gasp as he prods my hole, just barely pushing in before pulling back again. I roll my hips to try and press you deeper, but you don't budge.

"Someone's impatient." He taunts, eliciting a whine from me.

"Please~" I beg, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at how desperate I sound. A chuckle escapes him as he continues to tease me with his cock.

"Say it again," he demands, drawing his lower plump lip between his teeth while pressing into my heat, only allowing the tip to enter. I grunt with frustration.

"Please, Donnie," I whisper, my voice thick with desire. "I need you. Now." Without warning, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt with a moan of ecstasy. I let out a yelp as I stretch around him, feeling his dick pressing against my cervix. Adonis's eyes widen as he feels me tighten around his hard length.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," he growls, his fingers digging into my hips. Slowly, he begins to rock his hips, establishing a deep and steady rhythm as he fills me over and over.

"Oh my god- So big~" I manage to say between moans. I meet his thrusts, my legs locking around his waist, pulling him deeper. My long nails dig into his back, threatening to break, but I don't care. I groan as he fills me up completely, stretching me just barely past my limit.

Adonis's eyes flash with lust as I cry out, relishing the feel of every inch of him buried inside me. He groans throatily, driven wild by the sensations of my silky walls clenching around his throbbing length.

"That's right, take it all," he rasps, his hips rolling in a steady, punishing rhythm. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me flush against him as his lips claim mine again. My tongue swirls around his as I pull him impossibly closer, my body melting against his. The kiss becomes more possessive Donni's large hands roam my body.

He tears his mouth from mine only to latch onto my neck as he starts rolling his hips against mine, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. He uses one hand to turn my neck, exposing more of my skin, and the other to capture my nipple in his fingers, rolling the sensitive peak between his digits. His hips increase to a relentless pace, driving his thick shaft in and out repeatedly. The obscene sounds of our joined bodies fill the air, only rivaled by my mewls of pleasure.

"Fuck, I'm gonna wreck you." He whispers against my skin, his voice hoarse as the force of his thrust urges another moan out of me.

"Mhm, yes please f-" My breath hitches, unable to finish my sentence as he picks up speed. He shifts his weight to his knees, leaning his head back as his cock slams deliciously into my core. Donnie's powerful hips snap forward with relentless abandon, the bed creaking under our combined weight.

I press my hands to the headboard behind me for support as the force of his thrusts move me further up the bed. I look up at Adonis, but his eyes are screwed shut, his brows knitted together and jaw clenched as every muscle in his sculpted body strains with the effort. My whimpers and moans mutate into screams of pleasure as he chases his own release, his thrusts growing more erratic.

"Don- nie-" My words are stuttered as my brain turns to mush from his movements, his hands grip my hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into me, desperate to find his edge.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Let me feel that sweet pussy milk my dick." He urges, his voice hoarse. His words send me over the edge, my body clenching around him as I climax, my back arching off the bed as a flood rushes from between my legs. I let out a whine as he continues to thrust, splashing my fluids back onto me as the feeling of me tightening around him sends him over the edge as well.

A strangled cry of pleasure tears from his throat as his hips stutter, losing their rhythm as he is enveloped in the throes of his own climax. He collapses forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his body shudders with the intensity of his release. Waves of blissful ecstasy washes over us, every nerve ending alight with sensation. When the tremors finally cease, he rolls to the side, pulling me flush against his sweat-slicked body.

"Damn, baby..." he breaths, placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

"That was... fuck, I don't even have the words." I reply softly as my cheek rests against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat slowing. Adonis chuckles breathlessly, his strong arms wrapped securely around me.

"Tell me about it. That was..." He trails off, shaking his head in disbelief. I smile to myself as we lie there in bed, basking in the bliss of our pleasure. At this moment, nothing else matters. It's just me and Adonis. Just two strangers, yet it feels like he knows every part of me. I sigh contently, feeling the lull of sleep falling over me.

[chrystabelleblaumferge]

Imma say it

I hate Booktok and everything it represents (glorification of anti-intellectualism and overconsumption) so by extension I despise ACOTAR but the anti-SJM fandom, particularly the anti-Rhysand, anti-Feyre and anti-Feysand peeps are some of the most intelligent people who have come out of the fandom from a book series I genuinely loathe.

I find it ironic yet charming that the anti side of this fandom is actually filled with brilliant and bright minds as opposed to the "pro" side of that fandom who speak and act like they've been programmed by a cult to repeat the same type of opinions like a broken record. The people accused of being "vile and hateful" happened to be some of the best human beings I've ever interacted with and are willing to listen to dissenting opinions and debate in a civil manner.

In contrast, the "pro" side of the fandom who love everything these books represent are generally some of the most unpleasant and vile people I've had the displeasure of encountering. I was already uninterested in the series but was peer pressured by an insane fangirl of this series to read it expecting me to love "the twist" and the same characters she does (*cough* Feysand *coughs*). I cut her off for being a generally horrid person over a damn book all because I dared to speak my mind (she threatened physical violence over my honest critique).

I'm a general fantasy reader (think JRR Tolkien, George RR Martin, Brandon Sanderson et al.) and do not like romance books therefore dislike romantasy in general since I am not the target audience for these books. I only "read", by that I meant pirating these books to form my opinion on them, will never buy them since they're rubbish and not worth my money (plus I hate the author for being a shit human being and would never give her my money). It was bleh and I found it painful to read since I've read fanfiction that was written more eloquently than this SJM-produced slop. I always hated bad boys even as a teenage girl and that sentiment still remains as an adult. So imagine how I physically cringed when the love interests were switched.

Getting back on topic to the "pro-side", they were genuinely hateful despite their incessant preaching about "love conquers all" and on multiple occasions loved telling me I should die (classy...) for voicing my honest critique that I didn't like it. What's more, is that the common sentiment of the "pro-side" was to coerce and brainwash me into liking 'le main characters' and how I had 'internalised misogyny' for not liking something I only consider as fairy porn with no substance to keep me engaged lmao

The best part is that I'm not even a shipper of their rival ship Feylin, Tamlin, or Nesta. I am ambivalent towards them at best but I started sympathising with them given that the story made me hate the main characters and their 'Inner Circlejerk of Bougie Faerie Arseholes' that love wanking their 'Dear Dictator Leader: Ricespam' (I'll never spell his name correctly since I hate rapists like him). It also helps that the fans of these 'antagonist characters' are genuinely nice and pleasant people. I'm almost tempted to so say I love Tamlin/Nesta just to rustle the Feysand cultists' jimmies lol

It seems like they only use "feminism" when it's on their side. Not bothering to accept contrasting viewpoints from women such as myself who do not like a book and are within our rights to do so. What's even surprising is that the pro-fandom is overwhelmingly like this. They'd bully you into submission if you don't kowtow to their demands. Having been bullied in my childhood, I can absolutely recognise the same pattern of abuse that I've been inflicted on in the past. Therefore, this produced the inverse effect than the one they had anticipated. I started hating their self-insert Feyre and Ricespam even more. If they weren't so toxic, I would have just remained a general hater but them acting like Jehovah's Witnesses over a shitty book definitely made me spiteful.

All I can say is: I'll never be a fan of these books nor part of the fandom because I consider it mid. But I do enjoy the thoughtful criticism the antis of said fandom provide and will likely continue hating the pro-side of the fandom for being hateful bigots (especially the Feysand shippers, never met a nice one. Not even once).

[simonsoys]

A couple of years ago, just before the start of the pandemic, I started having panic attacks when I'd sit down to draw anything. I don't know why, but it came on suddenly and got worse the more I tried to fight it.

Eventually, I stopped forcing myself to try, but I still felt guilty for not being able to produce anything. It's weird when you spend most of your life as "the artsy person" and then it stops.

I felt like most of my value as a person came from what I was outputting. If I couldn't draw then what was I good for? If I were just better, worked harder, even enjoyed drawing more, then I could've made a career out of art and then I could like myself.

Honestly, the best thing I've done for myself after that started happening was letting it go and moving on to something else. I started gardening. I've been reading books a lot. I picked up bass guitar and joined a band.

Getting into music in particular made me realize how awful my attitude towards drawing had gotten. It feels like how drawing used to feel like to me, when I was a kid.

I've made so much progress in the last year since I started learning bass, and it's because I have a willingness to try difficult things and fail-- the act of doing it is fun.

I've met fun people, I've played gigs (which would've been unthinkable even a year ago), and I'm feeling a lot better about myself.

I have a well of curiosity driving me that's been missing for awhile. I'm seeking out social interactions with musicians who are better than me, whereas I had closed myself off from working with other artists because I never felt good enough.

And most importantly, I don't feel like if I fail, it's a reflection of myself as a human-- it's just part of the process. If I suck at it, who gives a shit? Participating has more value than perfection. If my feelings get ugly, I can move onto the next thing. There's more stuff in the world to experience than any of us can ever get to. It's fine if this is just one of them.

Since I've had that realization, I've been slowly able to draw again. I can recognize the destructive thoughts when they're happening, even if I can't fully stop them yet. It's been A LOT easier if I'm drawing something for someone else instead of myself.

I'm hoping in the next year I can get even more of the enjoyment back, but if not, I'll still be ok.

[angelshizuka]

One of the more annoying criticisms of Helluva Boss is the amount of people saying plot beats get introduced and go nowhere.

It’d be a criticism that would hold more weight if the show A) had more than 20 episodes out B) wasn’t still ongoing.

Like my dudes, we still have TWO seasons of this show left to go, 30 episodes TOTAL.

This is a criticism you give a show that has multiple seasons of loose plot threads and unresolved conflicts, but Helluva Boss isn’t even at the halfway point of its full story yet.

It only FEELS like it’s taking forever to get to the point because the show has been airing since 2020 and episodes take an enormous amount of time to produce because it’s an indie show!

Patience is a virtue.

That's exactly it, though!

We're literally only 20 episodes into a 50 episode INDIE show and even with all the "plot hole/rushed" complaints, it still has had more plot and character development than a lot of corporate shows have after like twice or triple that (or 6 times that if you're ML).

But yeah, I get being disappointed if things didn't happen once a show has ended, because that's a permanent confirmation you'll proably never see it (and even then you need to be able to take a step back and analyse how much of it was wishful thinking/personal preferences vs actually needed in the story).

I mean, I can definitely be impatient myself and I've only been here since April last year, so obviously don't know the hiatus struggles (for this show, I've experienced plently of hiatuses with other franchises), but especially with all the fan engagement, interviews, previews ect. we get, it's not like we're left hanging.

And in a way it taking so long also has it's pros. This is just rough speculation NOT fact, but let's say s3-4 takes another 5 years to completely finish, that'll mean that the show has had a 10 year run since the pilot. While most corporate shows would've pumped out those 50 episodes in 2-3 years and then drop the show like it never existed in the first place.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part II

Thank you to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading and letting me be insane in her DM's ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: None

Part I ~ Part III

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh as you finish your closing duties, giving the door one last pull to make sure it was locked with a tired sigh. You walked around to the back of the building, heading up to your apartment that was very conveniently located on top of your store. You kick the door shut behind you, haphazardly throwing your shoes in the entryway. You put the kettle on the stove, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as you waited for the water to boil. Your mind immediately wandered back to Vessel, your short interaction had left you with so many unanswered questions. Where did he come from? Why did he choose this sleepy little town of all places to settle down? Was he actually part of a cult? He was so different from what you had imagined. Hearing all the reports in the paper you had been terrified to run into any of them. Vessel, in what scraps of his personality you had seen, seemed so gentle. You were snapped from your thoughts by the sound of the kettle singing.

"At least our mystery man has a name now." You chuckle to your empty apartment. You guess you would just have to wait and see what tomorrow brought.

Music blasted through the speakers in the empty store, you sang along loudly with your favorite songs as you worked on restocking the shelves. You groaned as you hoisted one of the heavy crates of produce off the counter. You screamed, oranges scattering across the floor as you lost hold of the crate. There standing at the door was Vessel. Seeing that he had finally caught your attention, he pointed to his wrist as if he was motioning to a watch. You paused your music and quickly headed over to open the door for him. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot to tell you we close early tonight." You blurt out the second you open up. Your eyes land on Vessel, this was the first time you had been standing in front of him without the barrier of the counter. He was a lot taller than you had realized, you stumbled back slightly to put some distance between you and the absolute wall that was his body. "Every Sunday I have to restock the store, I close at four."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll just-"

"No!" You exclaim, waving your hands wildly in front of you. "No, really, it's my fault. You come in and get what you need, just don't mind the mess. It'll take me a couple minutes to reopen the register." You motion him inside, he follows you hesitantly. He looks around the store, various pallets and stacks of crates are organized into neat categories waiting to be put away. From what he could see it was definitely more work than one person should be handling by themselves.

"Is it just you that works here?" You nod in response as you drop onto your knees to start collecting the oranges you had dropped. Your hand jerked back as your fingers bumped into Vessel's. Your eyes dart up to look at him, "it's my fault you dropped the crate, I'd like to help you pick up a little if that's alright." He says softly as he remains completely still. He could tell being so close to him made you nervous, yet it was somehow different than interactions he had in the past. You weren't scared, more… shy.

"You don't have to go to all that trouble, Vessel, really." You try to reassure him.

"And you shouldn't be alone trying to restock all of this inventory by yourself." You almost rolled your eyes at the statement.

"I've been managing just fine by myself for the last seven years, I think I can handle a spilled crate of fruit." He chuckles at your determined tone.

"I never said you couldn't," he returns to the task of picking up produce as he talks. "I'm saying you shouldn't have to. You work hard, I can tell by how meticulously your store is always maintained." He trails off for a moment, not exactly sure how to phrase his next statement. "I guess I'm just curious as to why you don't have any help."

"There isn't anybody I like enough to have them work here with me." You smile. "This place is my home, literally, my apartment's upstairs." He shakes his head with a slight laugh. "If they aren't someone I would invite into my home they're not someone I would want to spend hours upon end in here with them. Besides, I like working, it keeps me occupied." Vessel finishes helping you clean up. "You go get your groceries, I'm sure you have a long drive back to… your camp? House?"

"Camp works." He quips. You head up to the counter to get the register up and running again, knowing his supply runs never took long. You found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. The strange red sigil in the center of his white mask, the ornate detailing on the bottom edge, the black paint that covered every area of exposed skin, everything about him just made you curious. Your eyes snapped to your register as he glanced in your direction and you swore you heard the sound of him quietly chuckling. He carries his groceries up to the counter and lays them out.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me as many questions as you want, I can't guarantee I'll answer." He responds bluntly.

"What made you decide to finally start talking to me?" He seemed a bit taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be so forward.

"It's no secret that a lot of people don't like the fact that we're around. Luckily, the only real nuisance we've had to deal with are the reporters, but I'm still worried about what would happen if we ventured too far into town. But, we needed supplies. We could only last so long on the sorry excuse of a garden we managed to start when we originally bought the land, your store is relatively close by and out of the way. As far as why I started talking to you, you're the only person I've met from this town so far that hasn't greeted me with hostility." Vessel laughs softly at your shocked expression. "I'm tired of running (Y/N). Tired of having to move from city to city every other month to try and keep ahead of the backlash from people who don't understand us. If I'm going to do that I need a place to come get supplies where I won't immediately get chased off, someone I can trust in my time of need… after some thought I think you might be that person. There's something special about you, I think we were fated to meet each other, I'm just not sure why yet."

"Well, I appreciate that." You can't help but smile at the admission. He trusted you. "If there's anything I can ever do to help you guys out, just say the word."

"Actually, there is something. Would it be alright if I start coming to grab supplies after you close, at least on Sunday's?" He asks.

"Of course you can. I was actually going to ask if that would work better for you." You admit with a chuckle. "I know that a lot of people around these parts tend to be pretty… close minded, to put it gently. I think it's smart for you to wait until you're ready to have those interactions." He nods his thanks at your agreement, collecting his belongings, and heading towards the door.

"Next Sunday it might not be just me, don't be intimidated." He dismissed himself with a chuckle, leaving you to finish restocking.

You pondered over who exactly he would be bringing with him. No one knew for sure how many members there were living in the woods, from what you had seen everyone except for Vessel dressed relatively similar. You were tempted to ask him throughout your daily visits, but you also didn't want to pry. As next Sunday arrived you kept anxiously looking up at the clock, waiting for closing time to roll around. You bid farewell to your final customer as you locked up. Just as you had pulled the key from the deadbolt you saw the familiar sight of an old, beat up pick up truck rumble into the parking lot. Vessel got out, talking to whoever was seated in the passenger seat before heading in your direction. You waved at him, opening up the door and stepping outside. "Is your friend coming in too?" You ask quietly as he gets closer to you.

"Yeah, he is. I just wanted to tell you something first. II isn't much of a talker until he gets to know people… He also has a staring problem." You laugh, Vessel returns your enthusiasm with a smile.

"If I can handle you giving me the silent treatment for a full week I think I can handle it big guy, don't worry." He waves at his friend to come join you. You waited in anxious anticipation as the passenger door opened, two heavy black leather boots thudding against the pavement as someone jumped out. The slam of the door echoes through the surrounding trees as you finally could see just who Vessel brought with him. II was a bit shorter than Vessel with a lean frame. His striking blue eyes met yours through the holes in his mask, black cloth with the same rune that adorned Vessel's, yet his covered the entirety of his face.

"II, this is (Y/N)." He slowly approaches you, you could tell he was studying you. He offers his hand which you timidly accept. His hand was warm around yours as he feigned the action of bringing your knuckles to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. "Come on, I didn't bring you to flirt with her." You see the corners of II's eyes crinkle as he chuckles at Vessel's joke. He straightens up, moving swiftly to the door, holding it open and motioning for you to walk inside.

"Thank you II." You smile sweetly at him. Vessel claps him on the back as he walks past.

"We're here to help, what do you need?" He offers kindly.

"Oh, I couldn't ask you both to do that." II steps forward, offering you his arm. You cautiously take it with a curious expression. He leads you to your chair behind the counter, pulling it out for you to sit. He rolls up his sleeves, picking up the first box of stock he saw and searching for its tag.

"See? You don't even have to ask?" Vessel chuckles. You got your restock done in half the time you normally did with their help. Vessel stood in front of the register as you rang him up, smoking smugly. "Wasn't that easier than doing it all yourself?"

"What? You looking for a job?" You shoot back, you hear II breathe out a chuckle at your joke. You bag up his groceries, handing them off with a smile. "II, hopefully I'll see you next week." He nods his goodbye as he heads out the door.

"I think he likes you." Vessel jokes.

“He’s sweet.” You giggle. “If your whole group is this nice you’re welcome in my store anytime.” Vessel smiles at your statement.

“You’ll meet the others eventually, I think they’d enjoy getting to know you.” He starts walking towards the door, shooting you a flirtatious smirk. You waved goodbye to them through the window, catching II’s gaze as they drove off. The next night as you sat reading at the counter you smiled as the familiar sound of Vessel’s sputtering engine met your ears as he pulled into the lot. You looked up as the bell jingled over the door, your greeting froze in your throat as you realized it wasn’t Vessel who had entered the store.

“Hey II.” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face at the sight of him.

“(Y/N).” He greets you with a slight nod. His gaze traps you in place as his eyes meet yours, he saunters up to the counter, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“No Vessel today?” You ask, trying to keep your flustered state a secret.

“He had something to take care of today.” You could hear the gentle intonation of a smile in his voice. “Call me selfish but I wanted the chance to see you again.” You let out a flustered giggle. He leans his elbows on the counter, bringing his face impossibly close to yours. His eyes slowly scan over your features before catching your gaze. “He sent me with a list, think you could help me out?”

“Yeah, sure.” You stutter, making your way around the counter. He hands the list over to you, trailing behind you to hold everything you pulled from the shelves. You struggled to reach something on one of the higher shelves, a shiver ran up your spine at the sudden warmth that spread across your back as II stepped closer to you.

“Allow me.” He gazes down at you, bright blue eyes studying you for a moment. You feel his eyes on you the entire time as you scanned all of his groceries. You handed the bags over to him, his fingers brushing over yours. You smile bashfully as your eyes lock with his. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.” He gazes at you playfully.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He bows slightly as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, II.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @herripinkle @themultiverseofmars @wingsofeternitysstuff @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (if I missed you or you'd like to be added to the Sleep Token tag list, please let me know!)

[geopsych]

re: the tumblr ai stuff, please don’t wipe your blog!! your blog has been so important to me and many others as a place of authentic light and beauty and i would hate to lose it forever 💕

there is a way to download the contents of a tumblr blog (it’s in settings, i don’t remember rn, but i’ll find it if you need it) maybe you could upload to another site or a personal site?

i know this is very serious, and i hate how we are unwillingly contributing to synthetic art, but the world would be poorer for me without your pictures <3

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.

This is a dilemma for me. I have loved doing this blog and going out to look for pictures and interesting things to bring here has given me motivation and meaning through years of struggle with depression and several kinds of grief. Going out to look for pictures has put me in situations where I have seen incredible beauty, much of which I never really managed to capture. Also, the many warm and kind messages I've received from people all over the world have given me heart and made me feel less meaningless as a person and more connected. Sometimes I've been criticized for buying the checkmarks and giving money to Tumblr but I wanted to do what I could because Tumblr has been my one happy and safe place online. But now this. To me AI in relation to creativity is just a way for well-to-do but untalented people, the proverbial tech bros, to profit from other people's hard work and creativity. It has no redeeming value in relation to creativity and is actively harmful to artists of all kinds. <trying to figure out how to put a read more link here> I don't even count myself among the real creatives, artists and writers and others who have worked hard and put years into honing their crafts, into learning to translate their hearts and unique spirits into their creative expression. I just see beautiful things and take pictures of them. But it would still make me sick to see AI works based on my pictures, on these times and places that have meant so much to me. Recently I saw a set of cat 'photos' on here that everyone was reblogging and exclaiming over but that to me seemed to just be AI art that was more convincing than most. As time goes on more and more output of AI is going to be almost indistinguishable from real works and unscrupulous people will pass them off as real, getting credit for what was actually created by others. Whether they profit from them becomes almost irrelevant at that point because what's worse is that we will have less and less sense of what is real. And as some have pointed out AI will now also be scraping from AI, muddying the waters further from here on in. This is an apocalypse of sorts, an apocalypse of creativity, ultimately likely to kill the joy of artistic endeavor for many who would otherwise produced brilliant, beautiful, funny, and/or shockingly original things. I'm still parsing and dissecting my thoughts and feelings about what Tumblr has done and how to react. Staying and leaving my blog up feels like consent. I am not confident in the integrity of anyone connected with scraping sites for AI. I'm not convinced that a little toggle in settings is going to make much of a difference in the long run. On the other hand I like posting here and I have received enough messages over the years to know that my blog is a positive influence on some lives. I was looking forward to May and June and posting pictures of the incredible beauty of eastern Pennsylvania in those months. And I was planning on making a side blog for posting some poetry I've been working on. It will break my heart to leave.

I haven't decided yet. Believe it or not this whole thing has given me awful physical symptoms. I'll let you know when I decide. Thank you again for your kind and lovely note!

[yumeka-sxf]

2-year anniversary post

My blog is now 2-years old~!

After my last anniversary post, I had quite a list of projects planned; in addition to making posts for all the upcoming SxF content, like the movie, season 2, and the video game, I had other personal projects in mind as well. I wanted to start on my Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family series, which I was able to write five posts for as of now! (I've currently exhausted all the topics I wanted to discuss for that, but I may come up with more ideas later on). There was also the Spy x Family Character Tracker, which took me a while to get motivated to do, but once I did, I'm proud of how it turned out 😃 I also made a lot of scan posts this year too, like the workbooks and my series of miscellaneous collab scans.

But compared to my last anniversary, which was at a time when there was a lot of new SxF content on the horizon, we've been in a bit of a dry spell the past several months. Hype for the aforementioned movie, game, and anime season have died down, and merch and collabs have slowed as well, since there hasn't been new anime content to promote. But I consider it the calm before the storm, lol.

This is also why my posts have gotten a little less frequent lately - there hasn't been as much new SxF content in general besides the manga chapters, and as mentioned previously, I was able to check off the projects I had wanted to do. So as of now, I don't have much new content planned in the coming year besides continuing my Chronological Analysis on Twilight and Yor series when season 3 airs (still no release date yet, but I'm betting on spring of 2025). I'll also make posts for each anime episode like I did with season 2. And of course, I'll continue my manga chapter reviews, and make merch and scan posts when I can.

I've always tried to maintain a "quality over quantity," "only write when I have something to say," mentality for the blog. I don't want to force myself to write when I'm not motivated (this is also why I don't take part in community writing projects and the like). I also have other hobbies besides SxF, so I like to focus my limited free time on those when there isn't much going on in the SxF fandom. Occasionally I think to myself, "Hm, I haven't posted on Tumblr in a while," but if there isn't anything I feel like writing about at the time, it's better if I hold off rather than force myself to churn out something uninspiring.

But as I said, I feel like we're in a calm before the storm. Season 3 will already be exciting enough, but there's a good chance more content will follow. The next Jump Festa is scheduled for late December, and as usual, SxF will have a dedicated panel with the four Forger voice actors in attendance!

The movie and season 2 were announced at this event in 2022, so there's a good chance we'll get more juicy announcements this year! Even if not another movie, I'd be happy with more artbooks, collabs, and other things down the line! There's also a good chance an idea for another SxF project will inspire me and I'll start working on that. Who knows. But I do know SxF is still a popular series with many more years of content to produce! And I look forward to seeing, and blogging about, it all 😁

[owlobservation]

Itoshi Sae Egoist Bible Profile (2022)

"I'll see for myself... what kind of forward this country can produce."

Itoshi Rin's older brother. He's selected as one of the New Generation World 11. The Genius Midfielder!

-Profile Data-

Birthdate: October, 10th.

Age: 18 (Third year high school)

Zodiac sign: Libra.

Birthplace: Kanagawa Prefecture (Kamakura City)

Family structure: Father, mother, himself, younger brother.

Height: 180 cm.

Foot size: 26.5 cm.

Blood type: A.

Previous team before he returned to Japan: Re Ale Youth FC.

Dominant foot: Left.

Favorite Soccer Player: Álvaro Recoba. "The left-footed player who creates rainbow on the pitch."*

Age started playing soccer: 1 years old. "Before I knew it, I was already playing soccer."

Nickname: Treasure of Japan.

Strengths: Being able to see things objectively. "I'm often told that I'm a dry person but who cares."

Weaknesses: I don't know anything except about soccer. "Don't live like this, you guys."

Favorite food: Salted kombucha. "Because I can return back to zero."**

Disliked food: French fries. "It's so delicious that I could die, but it's also so unhealthy that I could die."

Best rice accompaniment: Salted kelp. "They don't have it in Spain so I got it sent from my parents' home."

Hobby: Analyzing data of soccer players and teams. "It's nice to see things visualized as numbers."

Favorite season: The end of summer. "I feel like the whole world has become lonely."

Favorite show: Chibi Maruko-chan. "It reminds me of my parents' home."

Favorite music: Suisei by Tofubeats feat. Seira Kariya. "I listen it to cool down."

Favorite movie: Taxi Driver. "This De Niro guy is the coolest."

Favorite manga: Gegege no Kitaro

Character color: Azuki Red.

Favorite animal: Seagull. "I like migratory birds that don't stay in one place."

Favorite brands: All the brands that sponsor me. "They have good eyes for betting on me."

Best subjects: No idea because I didn't really pay attention in class and only focused on soccer. "I've never seen my report card."

Fetish: Butt. "You can tell an athlete's ability by the shape of their butt."

What makes you happy: A play beyond my imagination.

What makes you sad: Being forced to carry the weight of Japanese soccer on my shoulders. "Yes, I'm talking about you guys."

The first time someone confessed to you: I don't even remember which one was the first time, dumbass.

Last year's valentine day chocolates: Around 2.000. "My manager told me."

Sleep time: 8 hours. (7 hours+1 hour nap)

Where do you wash first in the bath?: Bangs' hairline.

Mushroom or Bamboo shoots?: Depending on the mood.

What made you cry recently?: Why would I tell you, idiot.

At what age did you stop receiving presents from Santa?: 10 years old.***

What did you ask for a Christmas present from Santa?: My undiscovered talent.

What would you do on your last day on earth?: Give the world's best striker the world's best pass.

What would you do if you receive 100 million yen?: I'm not interested. It's just a small change.

What do you do on your days off?: Gazing at the sea.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daily life at Blue Lock

"I haven't been there yet."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sae's Ranking

1. Ranked #3 The Best at Study****

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Initial Character Sketch by Kaneshiro

Genius Midfielder. Very Sadist (Do-S)

I can't read the rest of the notes... sorry....

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

*Álvaro Recoba (El Chino) is a midfielder from Uruguay known for his "rainbow-like" curved kicks.

**Return back to zero=being refreshed.

***In early 2021 twitter Q&A, he said he stopped getting Christmas presents when Rin stopped believing in Santa. His answer is revised in Egoist Bible to just "10 years old."

****The title/ranking is "Who Can Study Well". Sae is the #3 person who is very good at studying (benkyou 勉強).

Check Sae's updated profile from the second volume of Egoist Bible for more!

[reachartwork]

Let me tell you something about art, and being an artist: I went to art college and I dropped out. Over the years, I stopped doing art, and I no longer consider myself to be an artist, but I know I could pick it up again in an instant if I so chose because I remember the most important lesson I learned from my studies: art is communication. The medium doesn't matter, the method doesn't matter, the results don't matter. A generated piece has just as much place as artwork as a lithograph, or a sculpture, or a photo, or a painting, or a sketch, or anything else that conveys a vision or an idea. And just like all of the methods I've just mentioned, generated art will not and cannot replace its forebears. For example, one of the most-viewed images in the entire world is this:

Despite it being viewed by exponentially more people than the most famous of paintings, it hasn't replaced them. In the same way 3D rendering didn't replace photography, in the same way photography didn't replace portraits, in the same way portraits didn't replace sculpture, in the same way sculpture didn't replace carving, in the same way a new technique will not replace anything - it will simply exist beside the other genres and mediums, with its own rules, and its own boundaries, just as everything else that came before it has.

And don't get me started on how many times we've had this conversation about what art is the best or what gets to be considered art. Hell, Wikipedia's article on the hierarchy of genres has one of my most favorite examples:

Against the sculptors, Leonardo argued that the intellectual effort necessary to create an illusion of three-dimensionality made the painters' art superior to that of the sculptor, who could do so merely by recording appearances.

Leonardo Fucking Da Vinci out here being a messy bitch about sculpting because it's not his preferred method. The exact same argument was used against photography in antiquity because it was simply capturing an image of what existed, and then it was used again against renders because "computer graphics aren't real" and "you're just posing models with fake lighting".

AI Art and the generation of images is just the new photography: a mechanically-assisted art form with a radical method of producing a piece that is rarely judged by its own merits because it has yet to be commonly understood. It IS art, and it's in the best interests of anyone who believes otherwise to study Art History and see how many times the same exact backlash has popped up against what we now consider to be traditional and respectable forms. I know change is scary, but it is possible to be better than your instincts and accept or embrace something new - even if it's not something that you, personally, would like to use.

posting without comment

[fioras-resolve]

okay, let's actually do this properly

Hey all, our game Daybreak Hearts is now in semi-open beta! You can access it here, although it's password protected to make sure it doesn't hit the front page yet. The password is "Ketanso".

Daybreak Hearts is a tactics RPG that uses gameplay as a vehicle for storytelling. It's broadly about connections, the challenge but necessity of forming them in a world that hates you. Each level features a different pair of characters, and explores their dynamic both mechanically and in writing. Here's the three duos at play:

-A magical teenager and her overbearing guardian -Two girlfriends with opposite emotional needs -The one who refuses to go to therapy and the one trying to fix that

The game's still in development, and a lot could change, including the story! But I'm proud of what I've made so far, and I hope that by showing it to you, I can make it even better!

That said, I am kind of terrified of doing this. It is a uniquely vulnerable position putting a game like this in the public eye, so below the cut is some boundary-setting you should read if you're going to give feedback.

Feedback and criticism are very welcome, I'll listen to as much of it as I can! However, I decide how to respond to it. What you want the game to be might not match my vision.

I put myself into my work, inevitably for a game like this, but don't assume you know me personally by playing this game, especially an early build.

Remember I am human (among other animals, but you get it). Please do not treat me like a corporation or a machine for producing content.

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

We Interrupt This Broadcast...

(Another two-part-er! Stay tuned for part 2 very shortly!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). One comically graphic description of cannibalism (first paragraph). Also, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect a lil angst sprinkled in there (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

Ok... I'm gonna be honest folks, I have no idea if this fic is even coherent. This ain't my Best Work™ - this is literally the coping mechanism I've been relying on to put myself to sleep every night this week because HOLY SHIT my life is stressful at the moment. 😅

But anyway, I've decided I'm just gonna go ahead and post it, because 1) the world needs more lee!alastor, and 2) I'm not here to do my Best Work™, I'm here to write cute self-indulgent little stories about Alastor getting tickled to bits by his platonic wife. I'm here to decompress my hypervigilant ass at the end of long days by imagining my favorite endearingly creepy characters get wrecked by my other favorite endearingly creepy characters.

In summary, I'm here to have a good time, and I certainly did with this fic. So I hope you do too!

Featuring my new oc! (Rosie and Al still take center stage though, don't worry lol)

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's a little-known fact that cannibals make terrific doctors. When you spend every meal tearing the human body apart with your face, you end up with a pretty comprehensive intuition for demonic anatomy.

So Alastor supposed he should consider himself lucky to have Rosie and her loyal posse so close at hand after his battle with Adam.

He was certainly relieved when Rosie had stumbled upon him, barely conscious from blood loss on the floor of his wrecked radio tower - and especially a few hours later when, having been rushed back to Cannibal Town, he was whisked into a warm, familiar parlor and deposited on a comfy couch.

Within minutes Rosie had summoned a woman in a white coat who swooped in, produced a bottle of a strange, foul-smelling gel from her medicine bag, soaked a rag with it, and pressed it firmly against Alastor's wound. The searing pain evaporated almost on contact.

"What is that?" Alastor breathes, visibly relaxing against the arm of the couch he's propped against.

"Anesthetic." She begins preparing a needle and thread.

"Didn't know such a thing existed down here."

"Of course! We're demons, not barbarians," Rosie scoffs, watching from the sidelines.

Cannibals, as a rule, rarely last long enough to need a doctor, but Rosie is no ordinary cannibal. And Dr. Trudy Sawblade - a young surgical resident in life, and Rosie's personal physician in death - is the best of the best. While she hadn't quite completed her medical training before her untimely death, in Rosie's service she's gained more than enough experience to make up for her education cut short.

"That salve is derived from a distant cousin of the poison dart frog. Evidently most of the frogs are assholes, because hell has an downright enormous population of them." Trudy's voice is measured and matter-of-fact, with a soft lilt that is both soothing and vaguely unsettling. "Haven't been discovered on earth yet. Which is good, because one whiff of this would end a mortal life in a matter of seconds."

"Lucky you, you're already dead," Rosie chimes in cheerfully.

"Lucky me," Alastor murmurs, without conviction.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Truthfully, with the pain from his chest wound numbed, the weight of his recent defeat presses even more heavily on Alastor's heart. Someone - probably one of the cannibals who helped transport him from the rubble pile to Rosie's parlor - must have grabbed the broken microphone as they carried him out, because the fractured pieces are sitting on the side table at the other end of the couch. Under normal circumstances the awareness that someone had touched his staff without permission would spark a flash of rage from the Radio Demon, but now he can only stare dismally at what remains of his cane - aware that it's no longer capable of accomplishing much anyway.

It takes only a few minutes for Trudy to stitch Alastor back up and wrap his chest in a stretchy gauze. Meanwhile, Rosie quickly mends the worst of the tears in his clothes - if only to avoid having to watch her friend stare down the couch at his broken staff, with an uncharacteristic half-smile that damn near breaks her heart.

"Alright, sir, that should do it for now. It's a nasty gash, for sure, but the salve should keep it from getting infected."

"Thank you, my dear." He gives an appreciative nod to the surgeon, and Rosie too, as his fellow overlord hands him back his clothes.

"Can't have you going around with a big hole in your chest, can we?" Rosie steps back and scrutinizes her own patch job as he slowly dresses himself again. "It ain't perfect... especially for a classy fellow like you. But I'm sorry to report that I saw my tailor at a Sunday brunch just last week. Inconvenient, but I gotta admit, he made a wonderful casserole."

For the briefest of moments, this aside manages to tweak Alastor's smile into something vaguely genuine. "I'm sure he did."

"One more thing, Mr. Alastor, sir," Trudy jumps in as the radio demon pulls on his coat. "So sorry, I almost forgot. The angel also threw you against a wall, correct?"

At the recollection, Alastor's smile stiffens into something more closely resembling a grimace. His antlers rise between his ears. "Does it matter?"

"You may be at risk for internal injuries." If Trudy is at all fazed by inviting the most powerful overlord in hell's annoyance, it doesn't show. "I really ought to check, just to be safe."

Alastor looks away. As loathe as he is to even acknowledge his own fragility, he truly isn't sure of the extent of his own injuries - given that he's not used to receiving them in the first place. And he'd be damned (well, damned twice) if Adam had ruptured something vital, spelling the radio demon's second death a few hours after the fact.

He grits his teeth. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

"Lovely. If you could just lie back, sir..." As he obliges, she kneels beside the couch. "I'm just going to feel for any swelling..." Her hands hover over him-

"Er, wait." Alastor abruptly sits up.

"It's alright, I won't touch your wound!" Trudy soothes. "I'll just be feeling down here..." She gestures to his midsection (which elicits a sharp flinch).

"No, I-" He hesitates. "I'm... not sure this is necessary."

"Oh, Alastor, stop worryin'!" Rosie reassures him with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Trudy is quite picky about her meals. She'd never go for venison."

"That's... not what..."

Alastor pauses, and evidently decides against trying to explain what he meant. He reluctantly lies back against the cushions again.

"I'm going to place my hands under your shirt, sir. If you feel any pain, please alert me."

"Very well."

As Trudy lifts his shirt, he looks like he is going to say something more - but whatever it is dies on his tongue the moment her hands make contact with his stomach. He brings one knee up sharply.

"Tender there, sir?"

"No! No, your hands are cold." His words have gone uncharacteristically stiff.

Trudy methodically probes one side of his belly, then the other (which in turn causes his other knee to pop up). This time when Trudy asks if he's in pain, he merely shakes his head.

The surgeon furrows her brow, concentrating. Human-animal hybrids like Alastor already take a bit of poking around just to get a sense for each unique configuration of organs. It doesn't help that the man is bracing for every touch...

"Are you sure this doesn't hurt, sir?" she murmurs tentatively. "You're very tense."

"Yes." The word comes out like a hiss. She glances at the radio demon's face. He's wearing his typical showman's smile, but his eyes are fixed on the ceiling with a weird, wide, unwavering stare.

Finally the surgeon sits back. "Well, I don't feel anything concerning. But to be honest, sir, I can't feel much of anything." She turns apologetically to her employer. "His stomach is all clenched up..."

But Rosie is simply standing there pressing a huge grin into her glove. She's known Alastor for decades. She can read his expressions like a magazine.

"Alastor, darling," Rosie drawls casually. "Are you ticklish?"

From the radio demon's reaction, you'd think she'd asked if he was an Exorcist. He scrambles to sit up. "No! Why would-"

"You're ticklish. That's..." She catches herself just before the word precious.

"...What?!" There's an edge of defensiveness to his voice that Rosie very rarely hears from him.

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"I'm not emb- That's not- what-" Oh, she's giving him that look. "I'm just- I wasn't-"

As he speaks, Alastor's voice suddenly goes thin. His gaze turns inward. "I'm stuttering. I don't stutter! I've never stuttered!" He clutches his coat closer around himself. "I am the RADIO DEMON, for heaven's sake, I don't sta-AHH! Haha-!"

Evidently a scribble to the ribs is a very effective way to interrupt a panicking demon. Rosie runs her fingers from his hip up his side to his arm and back a couple times for good measure.

The amount of startled laughter she is able to draw from just this surprise touch delights her - the poor man is so ridiculously sensitive that a five-second one-handed tickle leaves him fully breathless.

"Okay! Okay, okahay! Keheh- Rosie!"

"Sorry dear, couldn't resist." She holds her hands up, still beaming like a stadium light. "I'll stop torturing you."

Alastor clears his throat. "You're not torturing me, dearest." He straightens his bowtie, clearly attempting to salvage his dignity. "You know what I always say, laughter is a powerful sign of-"

He cuts off with a sharp inhale and defensive flinch as Rosie perches on the edge of the sofa beside Trudy. She grins.

"You're right. That's certainly your specialty, isn't it?"

Alastor forces a nervous chuckle. "Never fully dressed without a smile, you know."

"Well don't worry, darling. I understand." She pats his knee. "Just because you've got the scariest evil cackle in hell doesn't mean you appreciate having it tickled out of you."

Rosie had expected this assurance to put him at ease, but if anything, he seems more troubled.

"Why would I mind a little, ah..." Tickling. Tick-ling. He can't bring himself to articulate two syllables. Is this all he's left with without his staff? "...Er, a little bit of levity? Can't let things get too serious, can we?" With another quick cough, the radio demon finally manages to get his voice to fall back into his familiar breezy cadence. He turns to Trudy. "Now, are we... quite finished with that examination?"

"Nothing seems amiss, from what I can feel." Trudy takes a step back. "Which is not much, but I think I've already made you uncomfortable enough..."

"Nonsense! I'm perfectly at ease!" He lies back again and smooths his coat. "Please, finish your little checkup. I insist."

Trudy regards him curiously for a moment. "Right." Her hands hover over his belly again. "But if you want me to stop, sir, just say the word-"

"I assure you that w-won't be necessahary..."

Trudy watches him seize up before her fingers even make contact. This time she presses a little deeper into his belly, trying to feel around his defensiveness.

"You are punching holes in my couch," Rosie remarks dryly, watching the poor demon's claws bury themselves in the cushions.

"I kn... ohow, I'm just-" He squeezes his eyes shut as Trudy hits a particularly bad spot. And then another. And another... hell, his torso one big bad spot.

"What do you think, Trudy?"

The young doctor just shakes her head.

"Alastor. Darling. You have GOT to relax."

"I am!" Alastor's composure is dangling by the thinnest of threads.

"Maybe it would help," Trudy says, with infinite caution, "to just go ahead and laugh, sir."

A beat. And then Rosie bursts into laughter.

"Giving new meaning to the 'deer in the headlights' expression, my friend." She scoots closer. "I thought you just said you don't mind a little 'levity'..."

"I don't!"

"In that case. Carry on, Trudy - Auntie Rosie is gonna help our patient out a bit while you work."

Too late, Alastor realizes what his fellow overlord has in mind. "Wait, wait! Ros-"

A delicate set of nails find the region just under his ribs - and it's all downhill from there.

"Ah! Fuhuck!" Alastor chokes on a curse before he can catch himself. He twists sideways, collapses into muffled giggles, and briefly manages to pull himself together - just barely - with a few hyperventilated breaths. "Rosie, really! This isn't- please- ack! I can't-" There's that damn stutter again. He hadn't even stuttered when Adam slashed him.

And now, Great Alastor the Radio Demon, undone by some scribbles? And a medical exam?!

Meanwhile, Trudy can feel even less now than she could before, her patient's belly now quaking with silent, suppressed mirth. But she takes one look at Rosie's delighted expression... and continues probing anyway, curling a subtle little smirk of her own.

It seems Rosie has picked up on a slightly less tangible injury than anything Trudy can address. But fortunately, they've just stumbled upon a promising potential treatment.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2 is already pretty much finished - my brain is just too mushy at this point to contend with Tumblr's shitty text interface any longer, and this feels like a good stopping point.

Lemme get a good night sleep and another dose of Prozac and I'll have the rest out shortly 😅

💜 - Cozy

[bluedotjpeg]

An Audience With The New King

.

more than anything else, my most anticipated art event of the year is @bowelfly 's Discord Art Telephone, where the good doc manages to wrangle numerous artists into producing and delivering some of the coolest art you'll ever see.

this year, we got 72 artists, the largest yet, and the largest art phone game i've personally heard of. upon seeing that my inspiration piece this year was an underwater scene involving morray eels and crustaceans, very similarly to last year's, i decided to make my piece a little secret sequel to last year's!

the crab king has defeated and disassembled the sea witch, and rests their skull on the top of his horde; his scepter is another stolen gold tooth. it wss in no way necessary to make this a sequel, but the similarities were there, and i wanted to challenge myself and make something that would fit well in my illustration portfolio.

all of the artists in this game did so crazy well; the progression of the art is a more fascinating story than anything i could imagine!