jane-ways

art block is your brain telling you to do studies.

draw a still life. practice some poses. sketch some naked people. do a color study. try out a different technique on a basic shape.

art block doesnt stop you from drawing, it stops you from making your drawings look the way you want them to. and thats because you need to push your skills to the next level so you can preform at that standard

Write a description of an object. write the weather today. Write a made up characterization of a random photo of an actor from the internet as to the character they are in that picture. Write a little story about your pet’s day. Write about spilling soup and make it super dramatic and tragic. Write about someone’s day being ruined and make it funny. Write a meetcute coffeeshop AU of two OCs you’d never put together- maybe from different stories. Write them breaking up.

Nicola Godden

Happy Pride 2026! Send me an "ask" of one of the listed pride-themed characters or ships. I will write a triple drabble featuring them.

One request per asker, please. I will take the first 3 requests, pause the game, and let you know when I'm ready to continue. Please check the main post to find out if the game is paused before sending an ask.

LGBTQ(Q)IA Ships:

Daily Pokedex #712 Bergmite

Tall and proud [Théoden] seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before:

Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, A sword day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder [….]

Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and he sprang away.

There’s a lot more really incredible stuff about him essentially rivalling one of the Valar of old and so forth and so on, but this is Théoden at the beginning of the Battle of the Pelennor: fierce and joyful and fey and free in what he fully intends to be the last glorious act of his life, redeeming himself in blood on the field.

No, you see, the one who hits blank screaming nihilistic rage is, as noted above, Éomer Éomund’s-son, on discovering what he thinks is the body of his sister on the field. He grieves his uncle, but he perceives his uncle’s death the way that Théoden did - his words are in fact recorded as Mourn not overmuch! Mighty was the fallen.

Then he sees Éowyn.

He stood a moment as a man who is pierced in the midst of a cry by an arrow through the heart; and then his face turned deathly white, and a cold fury rose in him, so that all speech failed him for a while. A fey mood took him.

“Éowyn, Éowyn!” he cried at last. “Éowyn, how come you here? What madness or devilry is this? Death, death, death! Death take us all!”

Then without taking counsel or waiting for the approach of the men of the City, he spurred headlong back to the front of the great host, and blew a horn, and cried aloud for the onset. Over the field rang his clear voice calling: “Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!”

(This almost gets him killed, as it’s a stupid reckless charge that ends up with him and his immediate knights encircled on a hill, except instead he gets the most cinematic moment in fucking ever where he gets to spit defiance at what he THINKS is the approaching Corsair fleet only to have the wind unfurl Aragorn’s white-tree-seven-stone-seven-star standard instead, and for them to get to literally cut their way through the stricken and demoralized enemy to meet on the field.

Tall and proud [Théoden] seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before:

Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, A sword day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder [….]

Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and he sprang away.

There’s a lot more really incredible stuff about him essentially rivalling one of the Valar of old and so forth and so on, but this is Théoden at the beginning of the Battle of the Pelennor: fierce and joyful and fey and free in what he fully intends to be the last glorious act of his life, redeeming himself in blood on the field.

No, you see, the one who hits blank screaming nihilistic rage is, as noted above, Éomer Éomund’s-son, on discovering what he thinks is the body of his sister on the field. He grieves his uncle, but he perceives his uncle’s death the way that Théoden did - his words are in fact recorded as Mourn not overmuch! Mighty was the fallen.

Then he sees Éowyn.

He stood a moment as a man who is pierced in the midst of a cry by an arrow through the heart; and then his face turned deathly white, and a cold fury rose in him, so that all speech failed him for a while. A fey mood took him.

“Éowyn, Éowyn!” he cried at last. “Éowyn, how come you here? What madness or devilry is this? Death, death, death! Death take us all!”

Then without taking counsel or waiting for the approach of the men of the City, he spurred headlong back to the front of the great host, and blew a horn, and cried aloud for the onset. Over the field rang his clear voice calling: “Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!”

(This almost gets him killed, as it’s a stupid reckless charge that ends up with him and his immediate knights encircled on a hill, except instead he gets the most cinematic moment in fucking ever where he gets to spit defiance at what he THINKS is the approaching Corsair fleet only to have the wind unfurl Aragorn’s white-tree-seven-stone-seven-star standard instead, and for them to get to literally cut their way through the stricken and demoralized enemy to meet on the field.

The above is a video shared by smrchildsadness on Twitter, showing a person participating in a pride parade exchanging a pride flag with a person standing on his (am using his pronoun based on the TikToks/Tweets of what happened) doorway who had a Portuguese flag. There are sounds of cheers and crying and the two people hug each other as they exchange the flags. The man at the doorway then waved kisses to the crowd within the pride parade.

The Tweet says: "NO YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HE WAS WAVING THE PORTUGUESE FLAG BECAUSE HE DIDN'T HAVE A PRIDE FLAG AND THEY TRADED FLAGS AND HE'S SO EMOTIONAL TO GET HIS OWN PRIDE FLAG I'M EMOTIONALLY RUINED"

For context, apparently they were worried that maybe he's a nationalist because he was waving the Portuguese flag and some nationalists opposing the pride march were waving that flag. But upon interacting with him, it turns out he didn't have have a pride flag and he wanted to wave *a* flag in support of the pride march. So they had an exchange and now he has his own pride flag 😭🥹.

The image above is a Tweet by kunwara_ladkaa that says "I'm crying so much right now (Image taken by Manuel Fernando Araújo/Lusa)". The image shows the same man from the pride parade crying as he hugs his new pride flag.

The above image is a Tweet by dudz_zZzz that says "ainda não parei de pensar nele," which according to Google translate from Portuguese to English is "I still haven't stopped thinking about him." The image is a drawing of the person from the pride parade, crying as he hugs his new pride flag.

The grimy, unpatrolled streets of Laket are a dark and dangerous place. Inspector Levok of the Ministry of Justice is one of the few men standing in the way of total anarchy.

When the industrialist and philanthropist Pravet is found brutally slain in his opulent mansion in a room locked from the inside, it is just one item too many on Levok’s docket. In a city full of drugs, gangs, theft, and mysterious disappearances, the murder stands out because of its victim’s prominence. His civilian supervisor advises him to close it quickly, but the deeper he digs, the less the case makes sense.

The wealth on display in the family's townhome doesn't match the numbers in his account books. His grieving widow is desperate to protect the family's reputation. His eldest son stands to inherit a fortune but from where? His younger daughter harbored a bitter feud against her father, while the man's ambitious brother insists his business is above reproach. The missing nephew is not mentioned at all.

Worse still, Levok's on-again, off-again lover, a streetwalker named Saraol, was with the industrialist the night he died, but despite leaving while he was still alive, Saraol confesses to the murder the moment she's brought in for questioning.

As contradictions mount and powerful interests close ranks, levok finds himself trapped between family secrets, political pressure, and a crime behind a locked door that should be impossible.

The Golem: What is it, really?

In Jewish folklore and mysticism, the Golem is an animated being crafted from mud or clay and brought to life through sacred words, letters, and ritual. Rather than just a folklore monster, the Golem represents a profound spiritual mirror: a symbol of human potential, the dangers of unbridled creation, and the delicate balance of the universe.

In Kabbalah, creating a Golem was the ultimate test of a mystic’s spiritual alignment and mastery over the universe's building blocks.

Ancient texts teach that the universe was created out of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet, viewed as spiritual DNA or cosmic energy channels. To create a Golem, a mystic walked in precise circles around the clay shape, chanting specific combinations of these letters. If the mystic made even a single error in pronunciation or intention, the ritual could fail catastrophically, turning the destructive energy back on the creator.

Traditionally, the Golem is brought to life by writing the Hebrew word Emet (אמת - Truth) on its forehead. To deactivate the Golem, the first letter (Aleph) is erased, leaving the word Met (מת - Dead). Truth is the ultimate animating spark of the universe, and the line between vitality and absolute nothingness is incredibly thin.

While a Golem can move, follow orders, and protect, it lacks a Neshama (the higher, divine soul) and speech. It possesses only Nefesh, the basic animalistic life force. Lacking a moral compass or emotional intelligence, it acts as a raw, unfiltered mirror of its creator’s psyche. If the creator is motivated by fear or anger, the Golem inevitably manifests that chaos.

On a personal level, the Golem represents our raw impulses, anger, and defense mechanisms. We often build emotional armor (a Golem) to protect ourselves from trauma or external threats. But if we leave that protective anger running on autopilot without mindfulness, it eventually grows too big to control and begins to destroy our inner peace and relationships.

How do you see the Golem manifesting in your own life?

Shabbat Shalom 🪞🤍