#none of the clothes are 100% accurate to the time periods i looked up to draw them but thats okay because it's mario fanart

[shartfinz]

I drew Peach and Mario first then I was like y'know Luigi would probably want a fancy ball gown too then I got distracted and drew Peach as a flapper and never finished the first drawing

[jacques-review]

“I Am Human”: The Spectacular Sha’Carri Richardson

Introducing the One and Only

Sha’Carri Richardson is the talk of the town, again. No, it’s not for her “10.72 seconds to win the 100 meters at the 2021 Miramar Invitational.” It’s not about missing the Olympics due to failing a drug test. Nor is it about the passing of her mother. No, this time it’s about her ninth-place finish at the 2021 Prefontaine Classic. This event was hyped up as being the ultimate showdown between Richardson and the Jamaican Olympic sprinting group led by Elaine Thompson-Herah.

In fact, I initially set out to write about Thompson-Herah. I wanted to say a few words about this amazing time in women’s sprinting history. Sure, there is Florence Delorez Griffith Joyner, also known as Flo-Jo, of 1980s fame. But she’s not someone that I can say I saw run although I was alive at the time. Besides Elaine, there is also the legendary Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce who is holding on to second place in the world at the age of 34. These two Jamaicans have made women sprinting enjoyable and fans out of us all (well, most of us)! I’m hoping to continue to see Elaine remain a dominant force in the sport for the next 3 - 4 years.

The more I observe the Prefontaine post women’s 100m reactions, the more I felt obligated to shift my writing focus from Elaine to Sha’Carri (Henceforth, Carri). My initial focus on Elaine was also due to the amount of attention Carri was getting despite the fact that she wasn’t the winner of the race. In a sense, I felt like Elaine’s moment was being dwarfed by Carri. The fastest woman in the world at 100m wasn’t being talked about as much as the last-place finisher.

I wanted to contribute to shifting the focus from Carri to Elaine. But the noise on the digital street was too loud and demonizing.

Birth of a Shooting Star

In the beginning (at the start of the year, of course), the attention being given to women’s track and field by the public wasn’t noticeable. In my usual circles and in the corners of cyberspace that I frequent, “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.” The world, it seems, woked from its slumber to the tune of Carri running a 10.72 in April. Carri did it in dazzling fashion with long eyelashes and fingernails, and what I’ve come to refer to as fiery orange hair. From that point on Carri, as a U.S. track and field athlete, became the dominant talk of the world’s largest and most influential blowhorn, the U.S. media.

If that’s not true, it’s all I heard. Sure, other athletes were sprinkled in and match-ups were expected for the coming Olympics. But the U.S. media championed the image of the One that stood a chance of bringing Olympic gold in the women’s 100m. Her appearance played well with the cameras. She looked like a star, something special. Indeed, the legend continued as she ran a 10.86 to qualify for the Olympics in June. Thus, the superstar, the speeding comet, was expected to show up at the Olympics with at least a reasonable chance at winning some type of metal if not gold.

"I am an Olympian. No matter what is said ... I am an Olympian. A dream since I've been young. I'm pretty sure everybody's dream as a track athlete. "Being happy is an understatement. Being excited, nervous, all of those feelings. I'm highly blessed and grateful."  -- Sha'Carri Richardson

I Get High

Well, that didn’t happen. The U.S. watched its prophesied chance at gold (or any other metal) in the women’s 100m come crashing down in all her fiery Orange hair glory. But not due to a loss. Stopping Carri from running because of weed was absurd to the public. African Americans weren’t interested in hearing that an athlete was stopped in a competition as grand as the Olympics for use of a product that they believe would not have contributed to her speed at all.

See the following articles for reference on race and black athletes.

The Olympics has a race problem. Athletes everywhere are calling out the sporting body for a history of banning Black women. - Yelena Dzhanova

The Olympics Continues to Prevent Top Black Athletes From Competing - Molly Sprayregen

The Weight On Black Women In Sports; Plus, 'We Are Lady Parts' - NPR

At this point, let me say that I agreed with those that argued for review of laws in order to determine if time had made them inapplicable. This is especially true considering the rapid legalization of weed across the U.S. “Cannabis is legal in 18 states, and allowed medically in 37 states.” However, I have to highlight that when it comes to weed, it is “outdated to joke about it as a party drug, writing off users as slow, pizza-munching losers when many successful people consume cannabis. Cannabis is a complicated substance with a nuanced role in fitness, performance, and society.” Keep the nuanced aspect in mind.

I have no doubt that it would not have made Carri into a faster runner. But, I think it’s important to keep the dualism that allows us to look at both what we as non-experts know of the impact of weed and the possibility that science may make discoveries later that can shock us. It is also important to consider that the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) isn’t a sub-organization of the U.S. Therefore the demands being placed upon athletes must be seen as globally relevant (ideally speaking). This is true despite the fact that the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency, in a letter to Jamie Raskin and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, stated that it “has consistently put forward recommendations that the rules addressing cannabis and cannabinoids should be more flexible and fair.”

Left (Far)Behind

Despite missing the Olympics a resurgence of interest was generated when it was announced that Carri would “face all three Tokyo Olympic medalists in the women’s 100m.” And all the world wondered after Carri. Well, at least in terms of what will be the result of the showdown in this supposed clash of the titans. I must confess that I don’t recall hearing or seeing that Carri was going to best all the members of the golden three-headed Jamaican *Leviathan. At the Olympics, Elaine Thompson-Herah ran a 10:61, Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce ran 10:74, and Shericka Jackson finishing at 10:76.

With Carri’s 10:72, she would have been competitive against Fraser-Pryce and Jackson if she was able to maintain that type of speed. This is theoretical, of course. What took place was a shock to the track and field world. It wasn’t that Carri was expected to win. She was expected to be better than ninth place. But that’s what happened. Carri finished at 11:14 while Elaine finished at 10:54. In other words, Elain ran faster than she did at the Olympics. This makes Elaine second only to Flo Jo’s 10:49 in 1988. Carri was a none factor. It appears that the star has fallen in dramatic of a fashion as she appeared.

Be Humble?

In response to the loss, Carri said to reporters:

"This is one race. I'm not done. You know what I'm capable of. Count me out if you want to. Talk all the s--t you want because I'm here to stay. I'm not done. I'm the sixth-fastest woman in this game, ever, and can't nobody ever take that away from me. Congratulations to the winners. Congratulations to the people that won, but they're not done seeing me yet -- period."  -- Sha'Carri Richardson

A good deal of critique, anger, and disgust came in reaction to what Carri said. Some believed that she wasn’t humble after the loss. They were surprised at what she said. Others pointed out that her interview was the most played despite the fact that she wasn’t the winner. There were questions as to why was she being interviewed at all.

What Now?

At this juncture, I will offer some considerations. Carri experienced a number of significant occurrences around the time of her ascent to fame. Again, her mother died. That’s a significant event. But then she was ban from the Olympics, the ultimate event for any professional sprinter, because of one of the methods she chose to use for grieving. Those are heavy blows. And throughout out it all, she was determined to maintain the same type of energy.

That Same Ol' G

"Even though I got my own CD maybe even on t.v. There ain't no changing me I can only be me me me Even though I might be on t.v. 'cause I got my own CD All you will ever see (that) same ol' G"  -- Ginuwine, Same Ol' G (1998)

In Ginuwine’s classic single Same Ol’ G, released in 1998 off of the Dr. Dolittle album, the singer reflects on being his authentic self despite being celebrated in the public sphere through compact disc and t.v. Carri wasn’t faking the funk. She was being real. She was being herself, that same ol’ g. It wasn’t a new persona that was on display because she was in front of all of the lights. Carri has been speaking with the same type of energy before her Olympic trials.

What does it look like being real for somebody Carri’s age and from where she comes from? Does being real look the same way across the board? Should you start acting differently because you lost or something else happens in your life?

The following are a few clips from her Twitter as evidence for how she has been speaking even prior to her Olympic qualifications.

You Wake Up, Flawless

"We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller We say to girls "You can have ambition, but not too much You should aim to be successful, but not too successful"  -- Beyoncé, Flawless (2014)

What if what looks like confidence for you is misinterpreted as arrogance by someone else? In other words, do our definitions always function accurately across the board and at all times? Sure, we can cite lexical meanings for humility and arrogance and attempt to apply them across the board. Can we make the case that it is time to start critiquing how do definitions play on the ground? I’m only simply pushing forward the argument that we have already been critiquing does definitions and they have shown up in our music, our clothing, and yes, the way we talk.

You wake up, flawless, Post up, flawless Ridin' round in it, flawless, Flossin on that, flawless This diamond, flawless, My diamond, flawless This rock, flawless, My rock, flawless I woke up like this, I woke up like this

— Beyoncé, Flawless

How does Beyonce’s flawless look like in the real world? What does #blackgirlmagic look like?

“Self-esteem means knowing you are the dream.” – Oprah Winfrey

"I was built this way for a reason, so I’m going to use it." - Simone Biles

"You are your best thing." - Toni Morrison

"One of the lessons that I grew up with was to always stay true to yourself and never let what somebody else says distract you from your goals." - Michelle Obama

These quotes of renowned black women sound great on their own, don’t they? What if what we are seeing from Carri is a version of what that looks like in real life? To what extent can we say definitively that we understand her enough to know that she is arrogant? What if Carri’s defense mechanism looms large at the forefront due to what she experienced in the distant and recent past?

It could very well be that Carri is indeed arrogant. The happenings in Carri’s life may very well be lessons needing to be learned for personal growth and development. The case being made here is that a more nuanced approach should be had. The same amount of consideration given to already established persons should be allocated towards those that we haven’t yet thought of as being on the same level. The same ones saying she is arrogant may themselves be exhibiting arrogance in speaking in absolutes concerning one that is unknown.

Dear Mama

"Lady, don't you know we love you? (Dear Mama) Sweet lady, place no one above you? (You are appreciated) Sweet lady, don't you know we love you? (Dear Mama)"  -- 2 Pac, Dear Mama (1995)

How long does it take someone to recover from the passing of a parent? I can’t assume that we all have the same level of understanding concerning the complexity of loss. Carri lost a parent. How close was she to the mom? How close was she hoping to be to her mom one day? While the news was out that her mother died, it didn’t seem to play a factor in the assessments that were being made about her placing in the race. It should have been obvious right?

Here is a brief introduction to the complexities of grief.

Although grief is a universal experience that is shared by all human beings, the actual grief response in each individual is very unique, and the expression of grief can vary greatly from one person to another. Many factors, such as personality traits, the presence of concurrent stressors and previous losses, the nature of loss(es), and the social expectations that are present, have a great deal of influence in shaping the course of grief for an individual. (p. 26).

It is very important to remember that no individual’s grief experience will neatly fit into a single model, because there is much variation in how losses are perceived and also in how grief is expressed and worked through. (p. 34)

— Darcy L. Harris & Howard R. Winokuer, Principles and Practice of Grief Counseling (2015)

Epilogue

Carri has already said what she needed to say about herself. What we are witnessing now is simply a play out of a young women’s plight as she live out what it means to be who she is on a public stage.

*"Leviathan, Hebrew Livyatan, in Jewish mythology, a primordial sea serpent. Its source is in prebiblical Mesopotamian myth, especially that of the sea monster in the Ugaritic myth of Baal (see Yamm). In the Old Testament, Leviathan appears in Psalms 74:14 as a multiheaded sea serpent that is killed by God and given as food to the Hebrews in the wilderness. In Isaiah 27:1, Leviathan is a serpent and a symbol of Israel’s enemies, who will be slain by God. In Job 41, it is a sea monster and a symbol of God’s power of creation." -- Encyclopaedia Britannica

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[songblurb]

getaway green | choi jongho x reader

word count: 1769

angst, swearing, i swear i started writing this wanting it to be happy and kind of fluffy i just got out of hand, gender neutral reader !

“do you wanna know how the story ends? hazy and spun out, just more than friends. weekend wonderful, a dizzy dream, a colorful lie, we made a hell of a team”

*tap *tap *tap

‘What the hell is that?’

*tap *tap *tap

You pull yourself from the warmth and comfort of your sheets, eyes sleepy as you make your way to the window.

*tap *tap *TAP *c l a n g

You open your curtain to find a soaked Jognho , smiling like a maniac as he motions for you to open up for him. Sliding the glass up, you see he’s already discarded the screen on the balcony as he climbs onto your wood floor, dripping water from his clothes forming a small puddle around him. “Would you grab me a towel or something, doll? Don’t wanna get the cushy bed of yours dirty now do we?” You saunter over to the dirty laundry hamper as you dig out an old bath towel and throw it at him, ignoring his flirtatious tone.

“What are you doing here at,” you glance at the alarm clock blinking 5:13 AM on your bedside table, “ five in the morning? Also, why didn’t you just ring the doorbell.”

“Why would I ring the doorbell when I know you’re asleep, hun? We both also know you wouldn’t have answered anyway, asleep or not.” He rustles the towel through his hair, flinging drops of water onto your creme curtains and lavender cotton bedspread. “Maybe you could, and hear me out here… just wait until a reasonable time and text me? Or even call, like a decent person? Also, don’t call me those pet names, you know how I feel about them.” “Yeah, that’s why I still do it, babe.”

‘God, I can’t stand how he always gets to me with those names. GOD I can’t stand how he always gets to me like this, period.’

“What do you want, Jongho.” You more demand than ask, sitting back on your bed, crossing your legs and arms, waiting for an answer.

“I was just out walking, and when I realized I was on your street I thought, ‘why the hell not’, and now here I am.” You barely tilt your head, and look at him more dead on than you have this entire time, “You know, for two people who never really dated, you sure like to act like we were comparable to Romeo and Juliet. Or, actually, Jess and Nick from New Girl, that’s more accurate, more dysfunctional.”

“Yeah, but you can’t deny that the time we were kinda together wasn’t the best time of your life, y/n.” Jongho looks down at you, a slight smirk on his face as he throws off his leather jacket and grey, tattered t-shirt. He grabs a tee from your closet, one large enough to fit his unnecessarily big biceps, and slips it on over his still damp torso. Actually, it was a shirt he left at your apartment quite some time ago that you never felt obligated to give back.

“It was fun, but you never wanted to be serious about anything, so I didn’t think the fun was worth it anymore.” “You didn’t think the life we had was worth it anymore? Just because I didn’t want anything official holding me down?” Squatting down in front of you, he grabs your knee as some sort of support, squeezing it lightly as he settles down. “That’s why you didn’t want to see me anymore?”

-----

“Jongho! I literally hit the jackpot at that little thrift store way on the edge of Costa Mesa, wanna meet up tonight?” “One hundred fucking percent, doll face, let me finish up with the boys and I’ll head to your place.” “Hell yeah, love you dude.” ---

And the line went silent, before you heard the dial tone beeps from your speaker.

‘Shit, shit shit shit, son of a bitch, why did I tell him I loved him? It can be a friend I love you, that’s fine right? If he asks, that’s an okay answer? Fuck.’

-

“You okay dude? Who was that on the phone?”

‘Did y/n just say? They love me? Fuck.’

“It was my mom, she just wanted to ask if I wanted to have dinner with them tonight.” “You called your mom doll face?” “Shut the fuck up Wooyoung,” Jongho punched his best friend’s arm, causing a loud yelp to come from him, “literally mind your business, dude.” he grabbed his jacket and walked off the porch, slamming the screen door after him.

“What the fuck is up with him?” “Shit, Yeo, I don’t know dude. Probably y/n, he won’t say shit about it though.”

‘I love you. What am I supposed to do with that.’

-----

“No, I didn’t want to see you anymore because I impulsively told you I loved you, and you fucking disappeared for a month.” I’m not going to cry, he doesn’t hold that power over me anymore. “I didn’t want to see you anymore because you obviously didn’t want to see me anymore.” Jerking your knee away from him, you stood up and stormed out of your room, going to the kitchen and pulling out a glass. You heard him following you, but grabbed a bottle of whatever you could from your counter and filled your glass to the brim, taking a big swig of what was left that couldn’t fit in the cup. “Ew, why do I even have this whiskey anymore, it literally tastes like shit.” “Because it’s my favorite whiskey, baby.”

“Don’t,” snatching the cup from his hand, you managed to spill half of it on the tile floor, “call me baby, Jongho, I’m not your baby anymore.”

‘Why are you bringing this up suddenly? We haven’t talked about this since I got back, why now do you want to talk about it.” “I don’t! I literally never wanted to talk about it, but I knew you weren’t going to stop showing up like this and I’d have no choice but to bring it up!”

“Listen, y/n-”, “No, you listen Jongho, I loved you, you were my favorite person for months, I loved every minute we spent together, from the late nights hanging out in your friend’s shitty cars to the public sloppy sex sessions to the thrift stores we would steal those old cassette tapes from, but do you want to know what I loved the most? I loved those nights when you would fall asleep and I’d still be awake, blanking watching the t.v. as I held you as close as I could, because I knew I’d never feel that loved by you when you were awake.” You felt tears falling from your face, but you didn’t know if they were sad tears or angry tears, all you knew was that you were upset.

“And now, you show up at my bedroom window at five in the morning like some type of teenage delinquent, expecting what? For me to lift my covers and you sleep next to me? For me to be completely fine having you in my home, 100% unannounced? What were you expecting from me, Jongho.” “I, I don’t… I don’t know what I was expecting. I never meant to make you this upset, or I wouldn’t have come back at all, y/n.” it was silent, neither of you wanted to speak.“Then why did you come back? Where did you even go?”

“I went to my parents, when you said you loved me I didn’t know how to handle it… I didn’t know how I was supposed to talk to you after that, so I just didn't.”

Somehow, you ended up in the living room, you sitting on your light brown faux leather loveseat, him standing a few feet in front of you on the other side of the coffee table.

“You were at home, and never thought to at least ‘Hey, I’m good, things have been crazy, wanna listen to those tapes now’”? “After a while I just didn't know how to say anything to you anymore.” Looking down into your cup, you swirled it a few times thinking about what he was saying.

“After a few hours, I figured you weren’t showing up that night, so I just listened to the cassettes myself, and one of them hit way too close to home.”

-----

7:32 PM

Jongho? Are you good?

7:36 PM

Are you? Still coming over?

8:09 PM

I’m taking that as a no?

9:47 PM

I’m just going to listen to the tapes, I’ll bring them to your place tomorrow

Message failed to send

‘Fuck it, if he doesn’t want to come over I’ll just listen to them myself.’

Sliding the tapes into the player you found in your grandparents attic, you sat alone. They were mostly mixtapes, it was fun to listen and attempt to figure out who made them. Kids who weren’t happy being white, moms who desperately still wanted to be young, couples who made playlists for their significant others. You wondered if these people ever found their answers to their problems through these songs.

Placing the last tape in the doc, you read the words scribble on to the front.

- to my getaway green in a world of black and white -

There was only one song to listen to, and something about it somehow made you realize what you wanted. If Jongho didn’t want to love you back, you didn’t care anymore.

-----

And suddenly, everything clicked for you.

“What song was it?” Jongho sat on the other cushion, turning his body to look at you. “It doesn’t matter anymore, dude. None of it matters anymore.”

The sun was coming up, and the storm outside turned into a drizzle.

“I guess since I’m not getting any more sleep, wanna go get some coffee?” “Yeah, that would really hit right now, actually.”

Slipping on your shoes and throwing on a jacket, you head out the door. The two of you walk to find your car parked a few blocks down, mostly in silence. “Y/n?” “Hm?”, you replied, more focused on not having a ticket than anything else right now.

“Is that how this ends, then? How we end? Just, dizzy and spun out?” You turn around, a slight smile on your face as you pull open the car door and slide into the front seat. “In a world of black and white, you were my getaway green, Jongho, but right now, I just need someone to sit in a Starbucks parking lot with me and watch the sun rise.”

-----

“Mom, I should’ve just told her I loved her back.” “Then why didn’t you, hun?”

“I knew she’d hear it on the tape I forgot in that cassette player you donated a few weeks back.”

[dyingthinroses]

Tips and Tricks

DISCLAIMER I AM NOT PRO-ANA OR PRO ANYTHING FOR THAT MATTER, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

TRIGGER WARNING EATING DISORDER 

1. RULES, RULES, RULES. This is important. You need to set rules for yourself, and if you are truly ana, you will have no problem sticking to them because you are STRONG! Rules are everything. Examples: Don’t eat anything white. Do not, under any circumstances, eat after 6:00. Don’t eat before 3:00. Cut each bite into x amount of pieces, chew x amount of times. Do not eat anything that has over 3 grams of fat. Make your own and keep adding to them.

Ana must be the center of your life.

Drink a full glass of water before you eat and then sip a full glass between bites, you’ll get full much faster. Remember it takes 20 minutes for the brain to realize the stomach is full.

Eat denser food because it feels like more. Light and fluffy foods compact in your digestive tract and you will feel hungry soon after.

Take out only the amount of food you plan to eat and don’t allow seconds.

Think before you eat. Don’t eat while distracted (TV, etc). Stop and consider if you really want to eat that then consciously give yourself permission.

100-calorie meals is better than one 400-calorie meal.

Never eat anything bigger than about a cup, your stomach will expand and you’ll get hungry more. If you need to, eat more frequently, not bigger amounts.

Slim-Fast and other “healthy” bars and shakes have more carbs and calories than in the meal they’re intended to replace. Stay away.

Drink at least a glass of water every hour. It’s better for weight loss to sip throughout the day than to chug a full glass (except before eating, in which case it can make you eat less, or make you slightly nauseous so you don’t want to eat at all). Try keeping a water bottle somewhere you’ll see it a lot, like every 10-20 minutes, and take a drink from it every time you see it/notice it.

Drink up to a shot of apple cider vinegar before eating, it’s supposed to minimize fat absorption. Also speeds metabolism and can help curb cravings. Drinking more than a shot causes vague nausea which helps suppress appetite.

Ice or gum are good food substitutes. Celery works too if you’re really hungry.

Use small, dark-colored plates. Dark blue or black makes you eat less, and smaller plates and utensils cause you to take smaller portions from the start.

Make a list of “bad” foods. Periodically, cross one of the lists and pledge to never, ever eat it again. Eventually, there will be none left.

Eat in front of a mirror, naked or in underwear if possible. If you can’t, carry a picture of yourself in a revealing outfit and look at it when you want to eat. When you have cravings pinch your fat and look at your problem areas, don’t add to them!

Eat a lot of fiber for digestive health and low calories.

Create a methodical routine for eating. Cut food into tiny pieces, count your bites and the number of times you chew, set your utensils down between bites, and sip water between bites. Add other rules or rituals of your own.

Eat higher-calorie items earlier in the day so you have more time to burn them off; if you eat late eat light or it will be more likely to be stored as fat due to inactivity. Try not to eat too late, sleep burns calories and is a good opportunity to burn fat with little effort. The body must burn through all digesting food before taking energy from stored food (fat).

When you go out, take very little money or only enough to buy whatever non-food item you plan on buying. This will make it harder to buy food on impulse.

Don’t take bites, either from others’ food or while cooking, as the calories add up surprisingly fast and you may not realize how much extra you’re taking in.

Write down everything you eat and its calories. This will make you think before eating and also make you more aware of how much food and calories you are actually consuming. You can also write down other things such as how you’re feeling, who you’re with, place, time, and why you chose to eat it, this will help you track patterns in your eating behavior.

Wear a rubber band around your wrist and snap it when you want to eat. Food = pain.

Set a time you cannot eat past. 6:00 or 7:00pm are good choices. This is especially helpful if you are prone to night binging. Then make a rule that you cannot eat before 6:00 or 7:00AM, this is like having a 12-hr fast every day.

You shouldn’t eat for at least 3 hours before going to bed. The extra hours will help burn off the calories. If you eat soon before sleeping, you absorb more calories due to inactivity and you put on weight.

Have a peppermint or peppermint tea. Peppermint decreases hunger.

Brush your teeth when you want to eat. The clean feeling and mint aftertaste will put you off food.

Press on your stomach when it grumbles. TUMS also stop stomach growling and have calcium.(5 calories a piece so be careful!)

Carry a list of all the reasons you want to be thin and avoid food. Look at it when you want to eat to remind yourself why you won’t. Or, write a new list every time you want to eat. It’ll distract you, postpone eating, and thinking of the reasons will inspire you.

Cut a ribbon the size you want your waist to be. wrap and tie it around your wrist like a bracelet. Every time you look at it you’ll be reminded of your goals. When you’re tempted, take it off and wrap it around your waist. See how close you are, or how far you have to go and resist the temptation.

Always leave at least one bite of food on your plate. This will help you to be able to stop eating and prevent binges. It will also stop you from compulsively finishing portions even when you have eaten enough.

Save $1 for every meal you don’t eat, then use the money to buy yourself a non-food present.

Friends will only get in the way. Avoid them until you reach your goals.

Never eat in secret. This is a terrible habit that leads to compulsive binging. If you wouldn’t eat it in front of all your friends you shouldn’t be eating it at all! Also if you only eat around other people they will know that you do eat and assume you eat alone as well, thus lessening suspicion that you have an ED.

Never eat out of a box or jar. Always eat from a plate or bowl. This will help you in several ways: You will see how much you are really eating; you can determine in advance how much you will eat and not go back for seconds; using a small plate or bowl will make you eat even less; you can count/measure out an exact serving and know the accurate amount of calories you are consuming.

Give clothes to Goodwill as they get too big for you. Don’t keep them around “just in case.”

If you live alone, put thinspo and/or reverse thinspo pictures on the pantry and refrigerator. A mirror works well too.

When you have hunger pangs, picture your stomach eating away your fat, and that what you feel is the feeling of thinness and your fat burning away.

Coffee is an appetite suppressant. Drink it black or with Splenda or another no-calorie sweetener.

Count your bites, and the number of times you chew them. Plan in advance how many bites you can have. Then make them smaller or use smaller utensils.

Paint your nails so you can’t eat until the polish dries. Teeth whitening strips are good too.

Drink water before eating. If you’re still hungry, drink green tea or broth. If you still need to eat, you’ll eat less than you would have.

Eat low-calorie foods with strong flavors. Sometimes you’re craving taste, not food. For bouillon, use less water than is recommended. Peppermints, pickles, peppers, and mustard are good choices.

Do not eat anything unless you know the exact amount of calories in it.

Chew gum while cooking. That way you can’t take bites while it is cooking, and you won’t want to eat it once it’s done.

Keep food out of sight, not sitting out, and stay away from food and the kitchen to keep your mind off it.

Keep a pocket thinspo in your wallet with your cash so you won’t spend money on food.

For sweet cravings, lick a chopstick and dip it into a diet Swiss Miss pack.

Write your current weight on one hand, and your goal weight on the other. When you go to eat, you’ll be reminded how fat you are, and how skinny you could be.

The Four D’s: Distance yourself from food. Distract yourself. Delay eating Decide what your goals really are.

Green tea raises metabolism and is very good for the skin and overall health. Drink it in the morning to increase metabolism for the day. Add lemon to make it more effective and to add a detoxifying aspect.

Hot water with lemon is another good morning drink.

Spicy foods raise metabolism, if you don’t like them you can take cayenne pepper capsules available in the supplement section of drugstores or health food stores.

Drinking apple cider vinegar is said to raise metabolism, have a few tablespoons, can also be mixed in water (with lemon would be best) or used as salad dressing.

Start the morning with stretching to wake up your muscles, the morning is also the best time to exercise because your body will use stored food (fat) as fuel instead of food you ate. It also processes food better throughout the day and gives you more energy if you exercise in the morning.

Get at least 6 hours of sleep each night, less than this can decrease metabolism by 10% and increase appetite by 15%. You look better and feel better when you have more sleep also if you’re sleeping then you’re not eating!

Keep good posture, it burns 10% more calories throughout the day. You also look better.

Vitamin B6 and B12 raise metabolism and give you energy.

Eating protein increases your metabolic rate by 14%.

[occasionalfics]

Human, p. 2 (Bucky X Reader)

drabble masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | part 1

For @sunigyrl: Mask-wearing/Winter Soldier smut (post Human)

A/N: I woke up at like 7:30 this morning and started thinking about this, so I had to immediately get out of bed and start writing. I’ve been working at it all day. Normally it takes like 18 hours to get a piece out but this one took like 10.

I mean there was supposed to be smut in here. If you look closely, it’s there! But also he’s not wearing the mask during it so really I fulfilled none of the prompt guidelines! :D

Warnings: Hint at smut but it’s super vague. Lots of anxiety, lots of trauma, lots of angst with just a smidgen of language!

Words: 4,198

PRAGUE -- 10PM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

You’re on the run. It’s the only option, now that you’ve been outed as a Traitor. They’ll brand you or kill you if they ever find you. And you know it’s only a matter of time.

But you’re not worried about that right now. You sit on the dusty bed and think about James. You haven’t stopped thinking about James since he’d saved you. He tried going with you, but you refused. He was a new person, with friends and a team. And that was all your fault.

You wouldn’t take away from him what you’d worked to give him in the first place. What you’d risked your life to give back to him.

You have neutral allies - a few of them scattered all over, but allies that keep secrets and give you what you need in exchange for promises, more secrets, or inside jobs. Sometimes they pay you, sometimes they give you room and board, sometimes they give you nothing and turn you away.

And then, once a month, James finds you. Tonight is one of those meetings. He knocks softly on the door, uses the codeword you’ve given him - [redacted] - and you let him in. Neither of you smile or greet one another. It’s not protocol, whatever that means now.

He stomps into the room in heavy boots and tattered tactical gear. He’s always right off of missions, sneaking away from the team to come find you before flying solo back to New York. His hair is tied tight into a bun at the base of his neck, and you think you can smell the faint scent of hairspray keeping most of it in tact. Whatever mission this was, it wasn’t too difficult. Still, he’s rather stoic and unwavering as he puts a backpack on the edge of your bed.

“What’d they say this time?” you ask him.

He doesn’t answer at first. He never does. Sometimes he reminds you of the Asset, but then his face will soften and he’ll give you what you’re asking for - most of it, anyway - and you remember. His file, his life before HYDRA, your role in helping him remember who he was. Who he could be. Who he’s becoming again.

This time, he chuckles first. “They still want me to bring you in,” he tells you without turning to you. He’s digging in the backpack, and when you move closer to the bed, you see the stacks of various currencies all wrapped together he’s pulling out. “They don’t trust you.”

“They shouldn’t,” you say, crossing your arms before looking at the cracked floor.

It’s always the same. His team - the Avengers - want him to bring you back with him. They want to lock you up, to interrogate you for HYDRA secrets. And you know plenty, but you’ll only talk to James about them anyway. You’d thought about turning yourself in because just maybe it would mean not having to run anymore, but you can’t. James won’t do it, and you’d rather not be a prisoner. You’d rather his friends not trust you from afar.

He starts to pull out plastic wrapped food from his bag before he even recognizes you’ve said anything. “Stark’s really not happy that I won’t do it. He’s already got it out for me…” His hands slow for a second, but when you move to stand next to him, he goes back to pulling things out of the bag and placing them on the bed.

“Can you imagine if he had me in his Iron Clutches?” you ask, attempting a joke.

He actually gets it. Enjoys it, even. He shoots you a small smile and shakes his head. “I’d rather not.” When his bag is empty, he goes to shut it, but you stay his flesh hand with one of yours.

“I have something for you this time,” you say softly, and before he can protest, you go across the room to your own bag. It’s a small leather messenger pack with huge buckles that make it difficult to get into, so you crouch down and undo everything, then reach in. You pull out a black satin pouch, then go back to him with it.

It’s a small token, but it’s what you managed to get. He takes the pouch without looking away from you. You step back a few paces, allowing him space to open the pouch and look in. You think you see his breathing stop for a second, and you imagine reaching out to him, to bring him back to reality. Almost like you used to.

Almost.

But then he pulls the item from inside the pouch and drops the black satin to the ground. He stares at the harsh metal and broken plastic, fingering the mouthpiece as you watch his eyes. Post-HYDRA, his eyes are so aware, so bright and open, especially as he stares at the muzzle he used to be forced to wear, to keep him quiet and hide his identity.

“How did you get this?” he asks, turning it over to examine the parts that touched his skin.

“I...have friends on the inside.”

His eyes switch to you, linger, then move back to the muzzle. “Do they know?” he asks.

You shake your head, knowing he’s asking if your friends know you’ve been meeting with him in secret for months. They know you’ve defected and deserted, but nothing more. No one tells anyone the full story in HYDRA.

Even James doesn’t tell you the whole story. You know, from his question, that he doesn’t fully trust you. You don’t entirely blame him, but you wish that, after doing this for so long, that he’d have more faith in you. You want him to trust you. You want him to look at you and want to protect you. Sometimes he does, but sometimes he still just sees someone who was sent to play with him in his darkest days.

“Why this?” he asks, wrapping his metal fingers around the muzzle as his eyes meet yours again.

You knew the answer to that question long before he’d shown up. “I want you to remember who they forced you to be, James. So you can be anything but that. Anyone but him. Never forget.”

ZAGREB -- 3AM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

He knocks, offers the code word, and is invited in. He’s in plain clothes today, and freshly showered. A delicate scent of pine needles and eucalyptus follows him into the dingy hole you’ve found yourself in now.

You nod at one another before he goes to the bed to begin removing the items he’s brought. More money, you can see as you lock the door. A decent amount of food. Even a few water bottles, just for good measure. You pull your long cardigan around you, despite not being cold, and move to sit on the bed behind the things he’s leaving you.

“Anything new?” you ask casually, as if this situation is totally normal.

James freezes, his cool eyes stuck on you automatically. He most definitely has something new, but you’re not sure you’re going to like it.

“Gimme a sec,” he says, and then he fishes in the backpack for something. He pulls out a few more wrapped packages of food before finding a manila folder. He sighs and hands it to you. “I have friends, too.”

You squint at him, because you know better than most that he does not have friends at HYDRA. Even you were far from a friend while he was there. You were barely his ally. They called you a companion, but that wasn’t accurate, either.

Still, you’re curious. You slowly look from him to the folder, then place it on the bed and open it. All that’s inside is about you. It’s your file - information about you, your life, anything that HYDRA knows. There are pictures, just like in his file that they’d given you.

But the thing is, you don’t recognize any of what you’re looking at. There’s a whole life before you that you don’t know. You don’t even recognize the last name that’s printed on the birth certificate. The pictures are of people you’ve never met and a small girl you don’t know. Your heart races when you realize what this means.

HYDRA created you. You were just another Asset to them. You were never a spy or a handler; you’d been molded to do a specific job for them, and to do it well. They’d just never accounted for humanity.

GENEVA -- 12AM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

With the cash James had brought before, you’re able to book yourself a nice hotel room without leaving a trail. So you do it, because you’re tired of creaky beds and dusty floors.

And you need a bath. Not necessarily to clean, but because something about being in the water has been calling to you for weeks. You sit in the steam and moisture for too long, your fingers wrinkling far too quickly. You sigh and think about the file in your bag - the manila folder with information about a life long gone, a life HYDRA took from you.

James hadn’t fabricated it. Your allies in Geneva confirmed that yesterday. You trust him, yes, but you needed to be 100% positive that the information in the folder was true.

Your parents are still alive. Your best friend is married now. She has three kids and a dog. You graduated from Yale; your diploma still hangs on your parents’ wall in the home you can’t remember. But that’s what the water’s for.

You take the deepest breath you’ve ever taken and dunk in, sliding and bending your legs until you’re lying along the bottom of the tub. You feel little bubbles lift from between your lips as you try to go back and remember.

You remember sterile halls lit with harsh fluorescents. You remember machines whirring all around you, and an undistinguishable man sitting in front of you, reciting things that you actually do have stored in your memory - your name, your age, your HYDRA-created identity, your HYDRA occupation. Once he’s gone, you remember intense pain all over - pain like period cramps in every inch of your body. Like electricity burning your muscles from the inside out. Pain that removes the past and leaves only the future.

GENEVA -- 3:30AM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

You can’t bring yourself to change into real clothes, so you sit in the plush robe while James removes money and food from his bag. He stops halfway through and watches you shiver, clutching the top of the robe closed.

“Hey,” he calls softly. He sounds like a real person, like someone who remembers who he is or at least has reinvented what it means to be James Buchanan Barnes. It makes you fully shake, which makes him drop what he’s doing and come around the bed to sit beside you. “Hey, shh,” he coos, gripping your shoulders - one in each hand.

You sob. For the first time in...you can’t even say how long anymore, you openly weep. For the life that was stolen from you, and for the cycle that was repeated with you. You tell him, “I want to go home,” over and over again, and he repeats the same answer back:

“I know. I know.”

ZURICH -- 9PM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

When he comes now, he waits until you lock the door to hug you. A hug. A real, human interaction that reminds you that he’s a person and you’re a person. He says it’s an affirmation, his way of validating your existence and emotionally thanking you for what you did for him.

But tonight, he comes wearing the mouthpiece. The muzzle. And you can’t figure out why. You’d be terrified if you couldn’t see his eyes - free from the smudges they used to make you place around them, clean, and bright. Human eyes stare at you, not the eyes of a machine. You’re surprised, but that’s it. You still let him in the room, still lock the door and accept a hug from him, which is affirmation enough that the muzzle is just an adornment now.

He pulls it off after disengaging from you, and before you can ask why he’s wearing it, he shatters it. All it takes is wrapping his metal fingers around its center and closing a fist and - SNAP! - the thing is dead. For a second, you wonder what that says about the fact that you gave it to him, but then you notice that his eyes are locked on you in a serious glare.

“Why the show, James?” you ask.

“My name is Bucky,” he says maybe a bit too passionately. You do your best not to cringe away from him yet. “No one called me James until the war, when my life ended. Now I’m Bucky. I’m an Avenger. I will never forget what HYDRA made me, and I will never forget that you were the one person that saw past the Asset. My name is Bucky Barnes, and I wear no masks.”

PARIS -- 11PM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

He catches you off guard by kissing you after you’ve locked the door. You surprise yourself by not pushing him away - by, in fact, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper. He tastes like chocolate with a hint of whiskey and he smells like peppermint. He’s so fucking human it almost breaks your heart.

But you pull away and shake your head. You step back from him until you hit the door, breathing hard because he’s knocked the air out of your lungs.

“What?” he asks. When you don’t answer immediately, his eyes widen and he asks again, “(Y/N), what is it?”

Your eyes fill with tears and you almost cry in front of him again, but you keep shaking your head and tell him, “I’m not a good person, Bucky.” You can’t look him in the eye as you practically whisper, so you pick a spot on the floor and feel a shiver wrack your brain.

“What?” he asks again, but this time his voice is lined with confusion and disbelief. “Not a good… What a load of shit.”

You know he’s trying to get you to look at him, but you can’t. If you do, you’ll rush back to him just to feel something, just to have someone hold you and to have someone to lean into. Bucky doesn’t need that. You might have gone undetected this long, but you know they’re always watching. You can’t entangle him further than he already is, not if you want him to remain free from HYDRA.

But he takes a slow step toward you, and you can see his boots. You want him to go to the bed, put the money and food on the mattress and leave like he used to. When all this started, you hardly even spoke to one another. But now he’s kissing you and you’re shaking because you can’t strip away from him what you’ve risked your life to give. You won’t do it. You won’t put him in danger like that.

“You know exactly who I am,” you tell him, your brow furrowing as your bottom lip trembles.

“Yeah,” he says. “I do.” He takes another step forward. There’s nowhere for you to go except to the bed, but you don’t. You can’t make yourself move and you realize...you really don’t want to. Every logical cell in your brain is telling you to get the hell away and stay far from him, because falling into him now will only end in pain. But your heart is beating too fast, and its sending signals up your spinal cord that keep you stuck to the door, watching as he nears and bends in front of you until he’s caught your eyes with his. “You’re not what they made you.”

Those logical cells tell you he knows exactly what that’s like. If anyone has the right to say something like that, it’s James Buchanan Barnes. But there’s another voice in your head telling you that you are exactly what they made you because they threw out everything else. There is nothing but what they’ve put in your head. There’s nothing but cold rooms, excruciating pain, atrophy, exhaustion, and espionage.

“I am,” you say, and before he can argue, you shake out a sigh. “I am because they took everything else. I don’t know how. But I think...I think I was an experiment.”

“That wasn’t obvious?” he asks.

“Of course it was,” you tell him. “But not what for… The records in that file end right before Triskelion. Right before they brought you out…”

You’re grasping at straws that are falling between your fingers, and you know it. But there’s a difference between what they did to him and what they did to you, and you’ve been suspecting since he gave you the folder. Maybe it has to do with the preparation - they tortured him, where they inflicted pain on you but only so much to be able to brainwash you. Or maybe you’re right.

“When they wiped you, they weren’t really wiping. They were forcing you into your subconscious and creating a personality that they could shape and control. You could come back from that.” You thought of the pictures of the family in the file, the notes about the best friend with her family. “But they must’ve been using me to find a way to erase everything.” Your throat closes quickly, and you force a breath to keep going. “There’s nothing for me to go back to. I am literally what they’ve made me.”

Bucky stands down. His eyes widen and he watches as you double over on yourself. You crouch and bring a hand to your stomach and the other to your mouth. You can’t stop the fear and confusion and loss from surfacing. It all spills over and onto the floor. You can’t believe you’re crying in front of him again, but all he does is sigh, kneel next to you, and hold his arms out. Before you know what you’re doing, you lean into him. He gets one hand around your back and one under your knees and then he carries you to the bed.

HYDRA kept you from touching him. They told you he wouldn’t hurt you, but that you weren’t to put a finger on him. Ever. It took you years to figure out that was because they meant to deprive the both of you of human touch. So now, as he places you across his lap and puts your head on his shoulder, you hardly know what to do. But he doesn’t say anything, so maybe you’re not supposed to do anything.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says. “I spent most of the last century in and out of cryogenic naps, and between those, I was subjected to major amounts of brain damage.” His arm around your back is cool, a permanent reminder of what HYDRA did to him. He flexes his hand, and as his metal fingers graze your forearm, you shiver. “There are parts of my life before that I’ll never get back, except in stories Steve tells me. I’ll never be James again.” He lets the moment breathe between you, perhaps mulling over the very thing he’s told you. And then he takes a sharp inhale, and you feel his chest rise and fall beside you.

“You think they’ve made you a monster, but they didn’t force you to kill.” His voice shakes, though you know if he’s angry, it’s not at you. “You were a toy to them. I was the monster.” You lean away and shake your head, but Bucky’s not done. “I learned to be a human again. But I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity if it weren’t for you. You read to me, showed me pictures of my family. You were the one risking your life to remind me of who I’d been, even if I couldn’t make sense of it.” He glares at you, and it’s intimidating, but you don’t dare look away. “(Y/N), you’re a good person. You always were. They stripped us both of what made us human, and because of who you always have been, we got that back.”

You let ugly, wet tears stream as he talks. Before you know what you’re doing, you fist his shirt, holding onto the one person in the entire universe who knows exactly what you’re feeling. He’s felt it before. He’s moved past it.

You realize then that he is a promise that you can, too.

PARIS -- 6AM -- UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

An alarm goes off in the room. You sit up straight and feel the cool air swirling around the room against your bare skin. One of your hands is hidden below something warm and heavy, and as the alarm blares, you blearily take in the room.

There’s a body next to you, and beside that, a phone is ringing. You don’t have a phone or an alarm, so for a moment, you panic. You think it’s a bomb or that someone planted it there, that they’ve found you and they’re coming for you. You move to spring from the bed, but your hand is below the body next to you and you can’t move it to get away.

Your heart beats in your chest erratically as the body next to you squirms. They reach for the phone with an arm that doesn’t match their torso, then they shut the alarm off and turn over, releasing your hand. You nearly fall off the bed, but their matching arm catches you before they shine the flashlight on their phone at you. You shield your eyes as they ask, “What’s wrong?”

They adjust the flashlight so you can see them, and once you take in the sight, you relax. Of course. Now you remember.

Bucky stayed. Bucky laid you down and showed you that you were not a monster. He asked for permission at every step, making open shows of requesting your trust. He kissed away your tears and made you feel the way his file had. Human, he made you feel human.

You catch your breath and tilt your upper body toward him, now that he’s sitting with you. He shuts the flashlight off, puts his phone on the bed, and places both of his arms all the way around you. His metal arm chills you, but the rest of him is warm and comforting. He feels like a cocoon, like he’ll envelope you, keep you inside for a while, and when you emerge, you’ll be something new.

You wish that were what was going to happen, but you had very few options. You’d already broken your rule about involving him in your search for freedom. You can’t keep putting him in danger...but you also can’t let go of him.

He’s the only one that knows what’s happening in your head. He knows how to stop it. He wants to help. You’re in no position to decline help.

“(Y/N)?” he asks, running his fingers down your jaw and neck, along your shoulder.

“Your friends will put me away,” you say quietly. “They won’t look at me like you do.”

“I don’t want them to.” He smiles gently, and for a moment, you let yourself believe all your problems can be solved with that smile. “And I won’t let them lock you up. They won’t be happy, but they’re Avengers. They protect people.”

“Not HYDRA.”

“You’re not HYDRA.” He kisses your jaw. “Not anymore. Not ever again.” He trails the kisses to your temple, and for once, you actually believe what he’s said.

You haven’t really been HYDRA since he escaped after Triskelion. You spent two years leading them astray, keeping them from finding him so that he might have a chance to live. You found him by surprise and ran with him at the first chance. All that was left after that was to let him in or to keep him safe, and to let him keep you safe, too.

“I’ll call Tony later. It’s, like, two in the morning in New York right now,” he says. “We’re not going to surprise them. Steve and I have a plan.” He kisses your forehead again. You almost can’t comprehend how healing that feels, but you shut your eyes and take it in all the same. “Do you trust me?” he asks.

Without hesitation, you nod. “Of course, Bucky.”

He sighs as you grip his flesh arm. “Good. Because I’m not leaving here without you, and I’m not going back without knowing you’re safe.” His metal hand comes up your side and turns you so you face one another. “You won’t have to run anymore.”

You nod and press forward, bringing your lips to his. It astonishes you, how soft he is. How easy it is to slip into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. How touching him reminds you that your life is yours now. That, if you go with his plan, he’ll be giving you exactly what you gave him.

Tags!

Global/Permanent: @infinityblogger @champion-ofthe-sun @hopefulblazetriumph @httpmcrvel @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @sunigyrl  @yeahbutmarvel @mysweetcookie99 @ourdreamsrealized @tinyfistwarrior @punkrockhufflefluff @lady-thor-foster @nerdywitch @dreamerinfinity @demonspawn2468 @blackpantherimagines @pensysto

Bucky: @girlwhoisfearless @athorable-and-deanlicous @mrsdeanwinchester19 @eyesfixedonthesun22 @pensysto

Drabbles: @athorable-and-deanlicous @esoltis280 @pensysto

[quranreadalong]

#124, Surah 23

THE QURAN READ-ALONG: DAY 124

Surah 23 is called Al-Muminun, meaning “The Believers”. As far as I recall, it does not contain a single original thought that we have not seen in a previous surah. Because of that, I’m gonna pad this surah with a lot of shit that hasn’t fit in anywhere else. We got some history lessons, we got some, uh, abortion debate. Get ready.

Most of this late Meccan surah concerns Mohammed yelling at disbelievers who question certain aspects of his theology, like resurrection and the afterlife. While the surah as a whole is undoubtedly from Mecca, there are some who believe that parts of it, including the first eleven ayat, are from Medina. You’ll see why in a sec.

The best thing about Al-Muminun is that we’ll only have two more suwar more than 100 ayat long to go once we’ve finished it.

The possibly Medinan, possibly Meccan introductory ayat state the following: Muslims who are humble before Allah in their prayers are awesome and will be successful in life. They avoid “vain conversation” and pay the zakat. They do not have sex with anyone except their wives or their sex slaves. (Those who do have sex with women who are not their slaves or wives are transgressors.) They keep their covenant with Allah and keep up their prayers, so they will go to jannah.

Right. So... what have we got here? It’s mostly neutral, as each ayah is a short little line. I’ll put down the raping of sex slaves as bad and the avoidance of “vain conversation” and paying the zakat as good as per usual.

Here are a few reasons why this section might’ve been from the Medina days. First of all, as you’ll see, the style of these ayat is different from those that come after them--the rest of the surah has longer ayat, and the section after this starts with a totally different train of thought. Second, most (but not all) of the time the word “zakat” is used, it’s a Medinan ayah. (Some say that the zakat mentioned here is meant in a general sense of paying money to the community, rather than the specific tax from Medina with all the rules associated with it.) Finally, the only other suwar that allow raping sex slaves are from Medina. It’s totally possible that this is nonetheless from Mecca, but it’s hard to tell either way. I guess it doesn’t matter much, tho.

Anyway, today’s second section concerns an entirely different topic: fetal development! Allah created humanity (Adam) from clay, “Then placed him as a drop (of seed) in a safe lodging”, ie in his mother’s womb. The “him” here appears to refer to humanity in general, since it doesn’t really make sense in the context of Adam himself. Lo! Allah needeth to work on making his pronouns clearer.

The word translated as “a drop (of seed)” here, by the way, is nutfah. This literally means a drop of liquid, and in the context of conceiving a child refers to semen. So Mohammed is saying that from Adam and Eve’s kids onwards, humans have been created by men splooging into women, thereby forming babies that grow inside their mothers. Fair enough!

The embryology lesson continues in 23:14:

Then fashioned We the drop a clot, then fashioned We the clot a little lump, then fashioned We the little lump bones, then clothed the bones with flesh, and then produced it as another creation.

So the timeline here is semen -> clot -> lump -> bones -> bones with flesh -> baby. A hadith from Sahih Bukhari elaborates:

The creation of every one of you starts with the process of collecting the material for his body within forty days and forty nights in the womb of his mother. Then he becomes a clot of thick blood for a similar period (40 days) and then he becomes like a piece of flesh for a similar period. Then an angel is sent to him (by Allah) and the angel is allowed (ordered) to write four things; his livelihood, his (date of) death, his deeds, and whether he will be a wretched one or a blessed one (in the Hereafter) and then the soul is breathed into him. 

From this, the “drop” stage lasts until day 40 or so. The “clot” stage lasts until 80 days, and the “lump” stage until 120 days. After each stage is completed, according to another hadith, an angel reports to Allah and Allah decides whether he wants the pregnancy to continue or not. After 120 days, the bone stage begins, at which point the fetus receives a soul, its destiny, and becomes “alive” in a religious sense. At least according to that. This other sahih hadith in Sahih Muslim implies something else:

When forty-two nights pass after the semen gets into the womb, Allah sends the angel and gives him shape. Then he creates his sense of hearing, sense of sight, his skin, his flesh, his bones, and then says: My Lord, would he be male or female? And your Lord decides as He desires and the angel then puts down that also and then says: My Lord, what about his age? And your Lord decides as He likes it and the angel puts it down. Then he says: My Lord, what about his livelihood? And then the Lord decides as He likes and the angel writes it down, and then the angel gets out with his scroll of destiny in his hand and nothing is added to it and nothing is subtracted from it.

Here, it seems like the fetus’ destiny is decided much earlier on--with the process starting closer to 40 days and its endpoint being left unspecified. This doesn’t explicitly have the breathing-in-soul part, but it nonetheless suggests some form of humanity or “life” is present at an early stage of pregnancy, as the fetus’ lifespan, sex, occupation, etc are all decided here.

Now you may be wondering, based on the above, how Islam in the modern era approaches abortion. The answer: it’s complicated, just like other religions. Like Jesus (one of the rare times I can use this phrase!!), Mohammed did not discuss women intentionally terminating their pregnancies anywhere, either in the Quran or in any ahadith. So Islamic jurists have had to base their opinions on everything I quoted above. Everyone agrees that after 120 days (~17 weeks), it’s not allowed, unless the mother is literally dying or the fetus itself is dying or something.

The question is whether it’s okay before that or not. Some schools of Islamic jurisprudence say it is frowned upon but allowable, at least in some circumstances, based on the Bukhari hadith. Others say it’s absolutely forbidden after 40 days, based on the Muslim hadith, but allowed before that. Still other jurists say it isn’t allowed, period, based on the prohibition against killing one’s children. So to summarize, the main positions on abortion are:

never allowed

allowed up to ~40 days

allowed up to 120 days

Which is correct? No one knows! No one can agree! There is evidence for all three opinions! You can read more about this debate here if you want, but see what happens when you bill yourself as a prophet but can’t get your stories straight... damn it Mohammed!

Anyway...! I assume it goes without saying that, uh, none of the above is an accurate description of fetal development, nor are other... curious ahadith about the topic. It is instead based on what the products of a woman’s miscarriage look like--clotted blood, small lump, identifiable fetus--at the given stages, and the designation of the 120 days point for ensoulment is due to the fact that this is the point at which fetal movement can be felt by the mother (17-18 weeks). This is called “quickening” in English, literally meaning the point at which something comes alive, so in fairness to Mohammed, he’s not the only one who thought of that.

This turned out to be a long section, so I’ll wrap it up with 23:15-16, which just says that all people die and will be raised on the Day of Resurrection. All of that is neutral I guess.

NEXT TIME: Cows! Olive oil!! Death by drowning!!!

The Quran Read-Along: Day 124

Ayat: 16

Good: 2 (23:3-4)

Neutral: 13 (23:1-2, 23:5, 23:7-16)

Bad: 1 (23:6)

Kuffar hell counter: 0

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

[blairwaldcrf]

Questions For LGBT Ladies #LGBTask

Here are some random questions pertaining to LGBT Ladies. Have others ask you or simply answer them yourself. Please reblog!

((I’m just going to answer them all because I’m bored and very vain))

1. How do you define your sexuality?  I identify with the label of bisexual, but my friends tell me i’m probably more pan

2. At what age did you first realize that you like girls? when I was 12 i freaked out because i noticed that girls in my grade were getting boobs and that made me feel things lmao, but i didn’t hardcore fall for someone till i was 17

3. At what age did you first come out? 17 to all of my friends, coworkers, and one of my cousins, 25 to my (mormon) biological family

4. Who was the first person you came out to? How did they take it? my cousin, who was gay and obviously very supportive... they’re now living a full life as a married transgender woman and inspire me every day! 

5. How out are you?  completely! flaming bi!

6. Has coming out lost you any friends? it did in high school, because most of my friends were mormon, but pretty much all of them came around

7. What is your current relationship status? single, trying to get over my ex fiance? type person

8. How many LGBT friends do you have? lol, um i’m blanking on all of them but i know at least 7 that i talk to frequently

9. Do you have any LGBT relatives? yep! one transgender/poly/pan cousin from my dad’s side... and i’m the gay cousin for my mom’s side lmao

10. Have you ever cut your hair super short? in elementary school my mom gave me the shortest pixie cut ever and everyone thought i was a boy... since then I’ve cut it semi short but never shorter than beside my ears

11. How often do you wear flannel? surprisingly not that often, i only have two flannel shirts

12. How much do you like cats? like at least 60% depending on the cat

13. Do you wear skirts and dresses? If so, how often?  i freaking love wearing dresses, but i hate skirts... dresses are like the least maintenance clothing ever

14. Do you wear high heels? If so, how often?  um no, they’re not my thing

15. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what of and where? yep, a cactus on my ankle

16. How accurate is your gaydar? 90%

17. Have you ever been to a gay bar or a gay club?  yes!!

18.  How do you feel when platonic female friends refer to each other as girlfriends?   fucking annoyed tbh

19. Have you ever had a crush on a straight girl?  hasn’t everyone??

20. Ellen or Portia?  Portia for sure, although i love my girl Ellen

21. Is your nose pierced?  nah

22 Would you ever want to get married, if not already?  i’m a hopeless romantic

23. Will you wear a dress for your wedding?  oooh yes and hopefully my wife will too

24. Would you ever want to give birth?  oh i would love to but i can’t physically

25. Have you ever watched The L Word? lmfao yes i’m a good bi

26. Have you ever dated a guy?  yep, and regretted it 7/10 times

27. How do you feel when someone uses the word gay to mean stupid, dumb, or boring?   obviously annoyed

28. How many rainbow items do you own? umm at least one flag

29. Have you ever been to a pride festival?  yes, i even got to walk in it!

30. Have you ever celebrated National Coming Out Day (October 11)? yes

31. Have you ever participated in the National Day of Silence? yes

32. Have you ever worn a woman’s suit?  hell yeah in middle school lmao

33. Have you ever worn any men’s clothing?  um i mean “men’s clothing” is a subjective term, but like I’ve worn men’s boxers and shit...?

34. Do you eat meat?  i love meat

35. Do you consider yourself a feminist? yep!

36. Who is your favorite LGBT celebrity?  ahhh, um... probably Ellen? Although Adam Rippon is starting to sway me lmao

37. Are you religious at all?  not particularly, although sort of neobuddhist/wiccan

38. How often do you find yourself trying to sneak a peak or staring at a cute female?   15/10 times

39. What is your ideal first date?   like, just any date where i’m with a girl tbh

40. Are you comfortable with terms such as lezzie, lesbo, dyke, or tranny?  sort of okay with lesbo, but the rest are offensive to me

41. How outdoorsy are you?  i fucking love camping and mountains

42. In general, has being open about your sexuality affected your relationships with other females?   yes, some lesbians i’ve dated were super biphobic

43. How much makeup do you typically wear?  in public, plenty. at home, none

44. Have you ever attended a gay or lesbian wedding?  yep!

45. Are you more feminine or more masculine?  i’m genderfluid, but slightly more masculine

46. How long is the longest relationship you’ve been in? Are you still with that person?  5 years, and no

47. Have you and a girlfriend ever been mistaken for sisters?  nope

48. Do you think it is possible for someone to truly be a 50/50 bisexual, or is the percentage always skewed in favor of one gender?   ugh this is literally the fucking worst question. bisexuality is valid no matter the percentage of any gender attraction you bitch muffin

49. Have you ever wished you were completely straight?   no tbh

50. Do you watch any LGBT YouTubers?  Rose and Rosie

51. Do you wear any combat boots, Doc Martins, or Timberlands?  combat boots

52. Have you ever been hit on by another female?   yes it’s an electrifying experience

53. How athletic are you?  i stand up sometimes

54. What are your views on gender identity and bathroom use?  free bathrooms

55. What is your opinion of septum/bull nose piercings?  not my thing

56. What does equality mean to you?  that everyone has an equal chance to achieve the same goal

57. If you are not a lesbian, about what percentage of the time do you find yourself attracted to other females?  99.9%

58. Have you ever shared clothes with a girlfriend?  lol yes it’s the best

59. Have you ever liked or dated a girl with the same name as you?  nah

60. How flirty are you?  pretty flirty, i’m a libra

61. Are you a virgin?  virginity is a construct, but no

62. Do you listen to any LGBT musicians (i.e. Tegan & Sara, Melissa Ehteridge, Chely Wright, Elton John, Sam Smith, George Michael, Adam Lambert)? in highschool me and my exgf would rock to emo tegan & sara

63. Have you ever been told that you are too pretty to be gay?   yep

64. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your sexuality or gender identity? If so, please explain.   all the fucking time... i don’t want a threesome, i’m not going to cheat because i’m bi, etc etc

65. Have you ever driven an SUV, Jeep, or a pickup truck?   nah

66. Are you or have you ever been a tomboy?   oooh boy, let me tell you. yes

67. Agree or disagree: Everyone is at least a little bit gay.  ummm, 90%?

68. What personality trait are you most attracted to?  intelligence

69. Boobs or butts?  boobs

70. Beer or wine?   hard liquor

71. Do you have a favorite lesbian movie?   ... it’s still Imagine Me & You... the leads are so god-tier beautiful

72. From 1-10, how attractive are muscular women?  9

73. From 1-10, how attractive are women who wear glasses? this is dumb

74. From 1-10, how attractive are women who are covered with tattoos? 8

75. From 1-10, how attractive are curvy/plus-size women? 9

76. From 1-10, how attractive are women with short hair? 6

77. From 1-10, how attractive are masculine butch women? 4

78. From 1-10, how attractive are highly intelligent women? 10

79. From 1-10, how attractive are tall women (i.e. around 6 feet or taller)? 7

80. Have you ever been on your period the same time as a girlfriend? lol yes

81. Has a girl ever dumped you for a guy? Have you?  i dumped a girl who was cheating on me with a guy

82. Do you carry a purse?  yes?

83. Do you wear any hats such as snapbacks or beanies? yes

84. Have you ever pretended to be completely straight? nope

85. Would you ever date a trans girl? yes!

86. How well do you think LGBT women are portrayed on television? not extremely well, but it’s getting better

87. Have you ever had a crush on a woman who’s much older than you?  Sandra Bullock..

88. Do you have any celebrity crushes? fucking Gal Gadot man

89. Do you have any opinions on LGBT people in the military?  keep them safe and start regulating sexual assault of all military members

90. Do you believe in love at first sight?  no

91. Have you ever been told that you look gay (i.e. like a lesbian)?  occasionally, depending on what i’m wearing

92. Where do you think is the best place to meet a potential lover? fuck if i know

93. Is there such a thing as “good” lesbian porn?  yes... if it’s made by lesbians

94. Have you ever had a one night stand?  lol yes, but not with girls

95. How often do you wear a bra? 91% of the time

96. Have you ever been part of a softball team?  lol no

97. If you could live your life all over again, would you still be attracted to other women?  honestly i’d rather be attracted to only women instead of being bi

98. What stereotype about LGBT women do you disagree with the most?  that bi women don’t belong

99. What advice would you give a girl who is struggling to figure out her sexuality?   watch Imagine Me & You

100. What advice would you give a girl who is struggling to come out?  it takes time... just let it happen and know that the time will come naturally

@caiterprince and @angryfinnstan  who I know are wlw, you should answer some of these if you want because i love you and want to get to know more!!!

[notconsolation]

So here’s my history. It’s gonna be long, so I fully do not expect anyone to read this, this is as much a record for myself as it is anything else. I fucking pray this read more works. If it doesn’t, happy scrolling, it’s a long one boys

It’s hard to place because my memories of the beginning are quite vague. It became noticeable at the end of the summer of 2012, so I’m guessing  it started in sort of late 2011. So I was 13. It sort of kicked off with orthorexia, but neither I nor anybody in my circle would have known the signs to notice them. It also turned into anorexia pretty early on I think. Or at least I just finally accepted the label after a while. I always hated the word, though. It’s a phonetically horrible word. The german was worse to me, though now I think it’s more accurate. ‘Magersucht’ - ‘gauntness/skinness addiction’ basically. I don’t know- I just started eating things like a salad with no vinegar and no oil once a day, then sort of once every two days and nobody really noticed. I went on an exchange trip to Spain that summer and I hated it because everything was oily and I felt the stains the food left around my mouth and had to fight the urge to wipe away at it constantly. I would try to cut it up and spread the food around the plate to get rid of oil, I’d rub it on my lips on the way to my mouth so that I could wipe it off afterwards rather than take it in. I went vegan I went gluten free I went uh.. food free after a bit basically. My mother noticed in late 2012 because she went away for a week and when she came back she said my clothes hung off me and I’d always been a size xs. Didn’t stop me from doing youtube workout videos from 11pm until 2 every night. God, my tailbone bled onto my sheets sometimes and I’d use that to pretend I was still getting my period. It was obsessive, but in a way that’s very removed to me now, because now I’m obsessive in so many different ways, though partially about the same things.

We spent a long time sort of not doing much except my mother fretting and my father not mentioning it and my sister rolling her eyes at my attention whoring by coercing my organs into imminent failure. We went to a couple of doctors to try to get some kind of diagnosis because I wasn’t strictly denying that there was something wrong, but I wan’t going to take the intiative to get ‘better’ from a situation which I perceived as not normal, sure, but not my responsibility to fix because it wasn’t my mind that told me I wasn’t normal and okay, it was everyone else’s. So if my being deathly thin bothered them, they could do something about it but I wouldn’t. I think that’s more or less what my thought process was. I guess around this time I was hovering around 42-44 kilos. I got so fucking good at figuring out which of my clothes weighed the most so that I could wear them when my mom would weigh me and cry. I knew she wouldn’t want to see my body, so I wore layers of wet clothes under denim and she never asked me to take it off cause she didn’t want to see my bones. In fairness I cried a lot, too. Sometimes I guess we cried about a lot of the same stuff.

My relationship with my ED is, to a large degree, inseparable from my relationship to my mother because for three very formative years in my life we spent every conscious moment aware of how much suffering each was going through, and that empathy magnified the pain and suffering itself. I talk about this in past tense when really I shouldn’t, but it’s easier to pretend now that we live in separate countries. She is the best person and I don’t know.

But anyway, we went to different therapists for a while. None of them did much. We tried this family based approach for a while which was... god i never want to go to family therapy of any kind ever ever ever again. Didn’t help, really. I saw that therapist about a year later when I was walking home from school and she stopped me and said I was looking so good and wasn’t it nice that I was recovering and I was thisclose to spearing her with a pitchfork and telling her that really, as a therapist that specialises in eating disorders she should know better than to assume someone is in recovery because they’ve gained weight before cooking her up like a suckling pig. She was probably objectively nice. But she was such a fucking Karen. Anyway, all this time I was still losing weight. I got up early and drank litres so I’d still weigh the same in the morning, but man. There was a morning when I overslept and I panicked and my mother panicked and we all cried and she wouldn’t give me time to layer up and drink and so - tada - there’s the number blinking up at me and everyone i angry and there’s a lot of snot from my mother and spit from my father, but my body holds on to its fluids because it knows i can’t afford to lose them. anyway, I hate the number 35.8 now forever. I’m not even entirely sure that was my lowest weight but I’ve literally blocked out those memories. I have no access to them whatsoever.

I have no idea how i never fainted. I missed a lot of school. Everyone went so far out of their way to accommodate me. I realise i haven’t been talking about what went on inside me and it’s because it’s like there’s a haze over it all, muffling the whole thing and inserting this sort of dead, lifeless ringing into my ears and before my eyes. I know I was obsessive and that I was aware that I should get better and I agreed that I should get better, but that I would always find ways to make sure I didn’t eat more than 800 calories a day at most. Thereabouts, anyway. I just Don’t Remember so much of it. But yeah. My parents got me a place on a clinic waiting list and I got moved up to have an interview with the Oberfrauärtztinchefincaptainsirmaam and i am so very grateful that she was so very awful. I distinctly remember her telling me i should be strapped to a bed with a needle in my arm and that i shouldnt be thinking and doing school work anymore because intense thinking can burn as many calories an hour as a lumberjack at work. So when a spot opened up at the clinic I was able to beg and cry and beg my parents for one last shot at doing it myself. I have no idea why they let me, I really don’t. By this point one or more of my organs had probably been permanently damaged and it’s a miracle my bones aren’t entirely porous and brittle. I get survivors guilt sometimes because I really do think that, objectively, I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t have made it through that. And I was so difficult about it. I would say I want to recover, and then not do anything to further that. I’d shoot down every suggestion and option and resolutely state that I was different and so, sorry mother mine, but the big fat book you bought with helpful tips and tricks? not gonna help, go away, leave me alone. I guess that was my version of teenage angst: ‘go away, I don’t need help literally staying alive because I’m a different human being from every other human being that’s ever gone through this’.

I do still believe that, in a way. I believe that everyone’s experience of it is different, and the causalities are so muddled that they’re barely discernible, but I was such a bitch about. I mean I still am, 100% but..!.

But I did gain weight back. I was still fucked up inside, but people stopped asking if I was feeling okay and started telling me they were so glad and proud that I was feeling better. Nobody really thought ‘hey, maybe telling this girl constantly and with strong, authoritative voices that she needs to eat eat eat eat eateateateatEAT might fuck her up a bit uwu’. It’s simplistic to blame it on that, though. But yes. I gained about 30 kilos in 2 years and I hated every second of it and my mental state deteriorated pretty steadily and lo, my anorexia became more akin to binge eating disorder. Depression kicks in, identity crises abound, the constant nagging intrusive ideas and noisy background of thoughts never stop, gender dysphoria jumps on the bandwagon for a while, and all manner of those tasty self-destructive tendencies find days of my life to cronch down on and consume whole.

But it always comes back down to food. I’ve made the binge eating section of this so brief because it exhausts me so and because I’m not sure how comprehensible it is as a concept to people. When you say binge eating disorder people sometimes think ‘oh shit man, I get you, I eat waaay to many pizzas AND, christ help me, sometimes I have a whole tub of ice cream by myself i hope god can forgive me hahaha’

BUt, Chad, what you fail to understand is that this is chronic behaviour where I consume sometimes seven or eight thousand calories at once and calculate every single one afterwards and literally worry that my stomach might rupture from the sheer volume of food and also that I’m doing yet more serious long term damage to my body and oh! hey frantic google searches on how diabetes works and if you can get it from repeatedly eating whole jars of nutella! didn’t see you there!

Listen, it’s all been a downer, yeah. By this point I’m assuming I’m speaking exclusively to the future self that I wrote this for as a record of what I remember. But listen. It always comes down to food for me. It just always does. And this whole thing was just sparked by the notion that I would love it if more people were aware that, sure, I deal with it because I have to and because it’s what one does, but if you could just... not bring up food to me unless I bring it up first? that would be great? And i don’t mean questions about my thoughts on it or anything, I just mean specifically for the future prospect of eating. For that very specific thing, if you don’t bring it up I’ll be super grateful because yeah, I’d love to watch a movie with you, but I’d love it even more if I didn’t have to spend an hour thinking of an excuse for not eating popcorn or not wanting to go for drinks afterwards. I think it would be amazing if we could establish a dialogue as a norm.

something like at some point having a conversation with someone along the lines of

‘hey, you know I don’t judge you or expect you to justify your eating habits to me, right?’

‘wait, really?’

‘yeah, that’s your business and I honestly don’t care, so you can stop stressing about it’

This has been an ED chat with Hannah

[inu-fiction]

so Kagura dresses like a dancer and Hakudoshi wears his 'suikan' like a noble. but i've never heard anything about what Kanna wears. the inuyasha wiki claims that both she and Shunran wear kimono but I'd like to know more if that's possible. sorry if you've already answered something like this before, but I can't even figure out how to work some of the websites in the research guide...

Thank you for actually checking out our Research Guide before asking (a lot of people don’t think to)! Sorry to hear you couldn’t find the answer that way on your own; let’s see what we can do to help...First, let’s get this out of the way: it’s technically never inaccurate to refer to traditional Japanese-type clothing like Kanna’s as “kimono” since it’s still a term used for it today. However, that’s very general - literally, the word originally meant just  “thing to wear” (mono was “thing”, ki is one way of saying “wear”)...so in other words, my hand to god, at the time the story is set, it just meant “clothing”. Congratulations Kanna, you are wearing clothing! :DAh...not helpful? No, not helpful.All kidding aside, it’s true that the term as it’s used today is a little more specific, but it’s not by much: these days, even in post-Meiji era Japan, "kimono” refers to specifically “ethnically Japanese” i.e. traditional Japanese clothing (the more general term in the modern era for “clothing” in Japanese is apparently 被服, which we would romanize as hifuku)... but, that is still unhelpful because yes, we can see it’s “Japanese” clothing, but seeing as “Japanese clothing” refers to a REALLY broad swath of clothing ranging from furisode to yukata, suikan etc - it’s incredibly non-specific. In other words, almost as bad as calling both pants and skirts “hakama”; accurate, but not helpful in the least! :PSo. What IS she wearing?Well, I...am sorry to break it to you but I’m not entirely sure yet, anon. >_>Since I’m prepping for Hurricane Irma as I respond to this, I’m unfortunately unable to do that much poking around, but I will say I immediately noticed something interesting about it after looking up reference pictures, one of which was this screencap from the anime adaptation (which is I believe from "Kagura's Dance and Kanna's Mirror", from Season 2, in which Kanna first appears):

Actually, let’s summarize what I’m noticing here, which helps me tell you what it is definitely NOT, and hypothetically might be (or...I thought it might be, more on that in a moment):1.) Looking at the ends of the sleeves near the wrist I can tell her garment is NOT any kind of furisode (literally “swinging sleeve”) type kimono, which have long sleeves that hang down  (Sesshomaru’s top, for comparison, is a furisode).2.) Her sleeves are more like those found on the kimono type called a kosode (literally “small sleeves”). They are meant to not get in the way, in other words (Sango wears a kosode when she’s not just wearing her armor by itself, for another comparison; you can see the end of the sleeve near the wrist is of similar design).  

3.) SLITS IN THE SHOULDERS.I’m going to have to add some visual ref here to point out why this jumped out at me as a detail.This is a “standard” looking kosode:

(image pulled from this nifty overview of the evolution of kimono! I recommend giving it a read, it’s very informative!)Now. Pay attention to the shoulders. Scroll back up, and compare - again, there are slits in Kanna’s kimono’s shoulders, but not in “standard” kosode designs.

Slits in that position on the shoulders aren’t at all unheard of in traditional Japanese clothing - they’re found in the suikan type garment that Inuyasha and Hakudoshi both wear, for instance, which as we’ve mentioned before, is designed for as a “hunting jacket” type garment, making me think that that’s why this garment of hers also has them? - but it’s not always a standard feature.(It’s also a feature in Kikyo’s outfit by the way:

Kikyo is an archer, so it makes sense she’d enjoy the fuller movement that those slits provide! Why does Kanna need it though if she relies on her soul-sucking mirror as her “weapon”? Hm. Good question!)Oh -and one more thing. Which I almost missed but which kicks it out of just “kosode” into “okay no, this is a fair freaking question, what IS this??”Look at this other screenshot from the anime I ran across when trying to see “what her obi looked like”:

What in the....there’s. Wait. No. That - can’t be.....?*googles more screenshots, confirms*

THERE’S NO OBI.NONE. AT ALL. WHATThere’s no belt?? Where’s the ties?? Is this even a real old-school kimono style or at this point is Takahashi kind of just making it up because “hey it’s a youkai anyway so whatever”? Is it tucked up in there?? How is this even staying in place...? (There’s also those little bows to consider, granted - but I feel like most of those are probably decorative? - but it’s hard to tell, without knowing what the garment even is! Maybe they’re not! Schrodinger’s bows)Okay, Anon. Yes. I see now why you sent this in. I SEE it. I never looked closely at her outfit before and now that I have, I am so far baffled. o_O All in all, I’m not sure exactly what is up with Kanna’s outfit  - not 100%. But I do find it interesting (and probably notable!) that it has slits in sleeves, and that it’s clearly not held in place with a normal old-fashioned obi, as we think of one at least. It’s possible (just spit-balling here, especially with Hakudoshi “wearing his suikan like a noble”, and Naraku’s having taken over a noblemen’s place!) that it’s a REALLY old-fashioned noble class children’s outfit? Maybe? That might be a good avenue for research (and I probably would have tried it, were I not prepping for a major hurricane this weekend, sorry anon! ^^;;). I wouldn’t even be surprised if it would be old-fashioned even by Sengoku era standards, mind - we know Takahashi included a by-then-“old-fashioned” suikan for Inuyasha (and Hakudoshi) and put Inuyasha’s very much human mother in a junihitoe (the latter is more like from the Heian period, MUCH earlier), so you never know. Keep it in mind!I will say this though:The more I think about it, the more I find it extremely interesting, too, that the ENTIRE outfit - outer garment, undergarment (which she does have; you can see it under her collar, peeking out through the sleeve-slits, and if you saw a full-body shot that showed her feet, peaking out from under the bottom of her outer garment as well)... the bows on the outfit... even her very hair, and even the decorations in her hair! - All, ALL of them, are solid, pure, non-patterned white.Why do I find this so striking?Because of the various nuanced implications of that in Japanese culture (warning: this link includes a picture of a Japanese corpse being prepped for burial. It’s actually not gross looking at all, but you may find it spooky or unsettling when you realize what it is, so I feel a need to warn ahead of time).Now, despite what the warning in parentheses for that link might seem to imply, and despite what some rumors may say, “death” isn’t the only association with white (and especially white clothing) in Japanese culture; it’s associated with “purity” and cleanliness as well. People aren’t just buried in white, they’re often married in it, too, and many priests and priestesses in Shinto and Buddhism include white clothing in their garb, especially for specific rituals requiring “purity”.I also will clarify that that is NOT a funerary kimono, in the sense that she’s wearing it folded the normal way, and not the opposite way, which corpses are dressed in, so let’s clear that up right away, that she’s not dressed “like a corpse”. At all. But.Still...This feels like it can’t be coincidental...? It’s hard to tell if the white theme is a sign of her “blankness”/emptiness (which is another fair possibility), or if it’s indeed meant to evoke those other WELL known elements in Japanese spiritual beliefs (and it’s still noteworthy I think that to the Japanese, it IS still common to see ghosts wearing solid white, because they are still buried in white, so there’s the subconscious “creepy factor” too, sure)...hn. It’s a real question!I am starting to doubt that it was purely for aesthetics or to save on ink though :P  So basically the short answer is: I am real sorry anon, I have no idea. :( I wish I did!The long answer, clearly, is: “WAIT, THIS RAISES EVEN MORE QUESTIONS...??”-Mod VorpalGirl(PS: I probably will not be online the rest of this weekend, at least on here. Seriously, Irma is making her cranky way right up my home State and we decided not to evacuate sooooo. Not only do we need to prep like heck tomorrow, power will likely go out for us before Monday, and given what happened with Hurricane Matthew last year, that could keep me away from ya’ll for up to a week or so. >_> Wish me luck....and Tekka too, since she’s still likely in the path of it as well)

[roidespd-blog]

Chapter Twenty-Eight : STONEWALL

50 years to this day. I was really looking forward to this one. (breathe) (breathe again) (keep breathing). With three articles left, we’ve come to the most important of them all. Think of it as Game of Thrones’s 9th episode of the season. Today, we’re talking about America in the 60s, how the Stonewall Inn became the set of such remarkable events and what the Riots of 1969 have left of as a legacy (Spoiler : close to everything).

GETTING RID OF THOSE FAGS : 60s EDITION

The end of the Second World War saw a need for the American population to “restore the prewar social order and hold off the forces of change”. Now, let’s make it clear. Homosexuals were not a welcome bunch before the war. But starting with the 50s, their life became considerably more difficult. A witch hunt of Anarchists, Communists and Homosexuals started. With the creation of a list of known homosexuals by the U.S. State Department and the F.B.I, came the firing of thousands of government employees either homosexuals or under the suspicion of sodomy. No pity. In a 1950 report, an investigation from the Senate noted “it is generally believed that those who engage in overt acts of perversion lack the emotional stability of normal persons” and “sex perverts in Government constitute security risks”. The 60s saw a rise in the homosexual population in NYC. More and more young queers would run away (of be thrown out) from home and take refuge in an up-and-coming neighborhood, Greenwich Village. The risks were heavy (frequent raids of bars and cops all over the streets ready to arrest you for less than nothing) but at least, for the first time ever, homosexuals were able to meet and discover what would soon become a community. In David Carter’s book Stonewall, it is said “it has often been pointed out that no specific statute outlawed being homosexual, that only homosexual acts were illegal. While this is technically true, the effect of the entire body of laws and policies that the state employed to police the conduct of homosexual men and women was to make being gay de facto a crime”.

By 1961, American laws reprimanding homosexuals were harsher than those in Cuba, Russia or East Germany. If you were to have sex with another adult of the same gender in the privacy of your home and got caught, you could get anything between a light fine to life in prison. Loitering in public toilet became a new law, just as laws concerning “sex psychopaths” in at least 20 states. Sentences on sodomy were harshened while professional licenses could be revoked on the basis of your sexuality, making it impossible to survive.

It would be a mistake to think that no attempt at organizing and change laws were made until that fateful night of 1969. Many protests that preceded the Gay Rights movement were made starting in Los Angeles in 1959. Between 1964 and 1968, numerous protests were held in L.A, New York City, San Francisco, Philadelphia. Some were organized, some were not.

Several amazing activists like Dick Leitsch (1935–2018) and Craig Rodwell (1940–1993) were pioneers in smart marketing actions and counter attacking the Police. Leitsch was instrumental in stopping the automatic shut down of bars and clubs that would serve known homosexuals and in ending the campaign of police entrapment while Rodwell opened in 1967 the first openly gay bookstore, the Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop and is considered by some as the leading gay rights activist of the early 60s. I digress, I know. There’s so much to talk about.

ANYWAY, organizations like One, Inc and the Mattachine Society (initially created by a communist activist in 1950, so you can see how easy  the link between chasing communists and homosexuals was made back then) were more and more vocal about the treatment of their kind by the government. BUT only in big cities and only in very small and peaceful gatherings of people. Not powerful enough. Queer people were too scare to organize fully, and I kind of get it. If you were too feminine to pass for a heterosexual, you would end up on the streets, selling your body for a penny. If you were discovered with another man, your life was ruined. Frequent raids in homosexual clubs by incognito cops (who would sometimes go as far as exposing themselves to lure you into an inappropriate situation) were not appealing to the masses.

“Thankfully”, the social repression of the post-war climate resulted in a cultural revolution in Greenwich Village. Beat generation poets like Ginsberg and Burroughs (who were not hiding their sexualities) moved there. Their personalities and writings attracted liberal-minded people to the neighborhood, giving more space to the slowly-forming gay community. Interestingly enough, none of the bars frequented by gay men and lesbians in the Village were owned by gay people. Most of them were controlled by organized crime. Those places were terrible, with poor treatment of clientele and watered-down drinks but the mafia was paying off the police so gays kept coming back.

The Stonewall Inn, located at 51 and 53 Christopher Street, was owned by the Genovese crime family, because of the interest of the son of one of the important mafioso, called Fat Tony, for gay businesses and the exploitation of this minority. Originally a regular straight bar in ruins, it was turned into a gay establishment in 1966. The Stonewall Inn had no liquor licenses, but that didn’t keep the drinks from being poured. It was the only gar bar in New York City where dancing was allowed but otherwise, this bar was a shit show.

All the bribes didn’t keep police raids away — just averaging them to once a month. During a typical raid (that the owners knew in advance due to police tip-offs), the lights were turned on, the customers were lined up and their ID cards checked. Those without IDs and dressed in women’s clothes were arrested while the rest of them would be left alone. The police would leave and the party would continue. The short period before June 1969 saw an increase of raids and the closing of the Checkerboard, the Tele-Star and two other clubs in Greenwich Village.

JUNE 28th, 1969

On the night of Friday, June 27th to Saturday, June 28th, 1969, revolution began. You also have to remember that the events that occurred that night divert from one person to another and we might never completely know how it truly went down, here’s two things everyone who had been at the Stonewall Inn that night could agree on : what happened had happened fast and it had been entirely spontaneous.

At 1:20 am, four plainclothes policemen in dark suits, two patrol officers in uniform, a detective and a deputy arrived at the Stonewall Inn’s and announced “Police! We’re taking the place!”. Four undercover police officers had entered the bar earlier to gather evidence of immoral evidence and the Public Moral Squad was waited outside for their signal. The music was turned off and the lights were turned on. 205 patrons were inside the bar that night. A few that understood what was happening started to run for doors and windows in the bathrooms, but the police kept them inside. The raid turned badly from the start. Clients dressed as women refused to follow female officers to the bathroom so that they could verify their gender identity (the procedure at the time. Yeah.) and many refused to produce their identifications.

The police decided to take everyone who did not cooperate to the police station AND take the bar’s alcohol in the process. Fortunately, the patrol wagons had not yet arrived and the arrested clients were told to wait in line for about 15 minutes. Those free to go were told to leave by the front door but this time, they did not run away. They stayed outside the bar as a crowd began to grown and watch. By the time the time the first wagon arrived, the crowd was ten times the number of people arrested. The first to be put in wagons were the mafia owners and that did not create any anger inside the crowd. Edmund White, who was passing by, recalled “Everyone’s restless, angry and high-spirited. No one has a slogan, no one even had an attitude, but something’s brewing”.

A transvestite was shoved by a police officer while getting escorted to a wagon and responded with hitting him with her purse. A lesbian in handcuffs, identified as Stormé DeLarverie, escaped repeatedly, fought with four police officers and screamed at the crowd “Why don’t you do something ?” before being hit on the head with a baton. Rumors of some patrons still stuck inside the Stonewall Inn being beaten and lesbian being molested started to spread around the 150–200 people around the bar. The crowd became a mob and “it was at that moment that the scene became explosive”.

I used this expression way too many times this past month but it’s never been more appropriate now : SHIT JUST HIT THE FAN. The police became overwhelmed by the response of the bystanders, knocking a few people down in panic, which gave more rage to the crowd. Those handcuffed in the back of the wagons were left unattended, which allowed some of them to escape. Two of the police cars left immediately when they saw the angry mob trying to overturn the police wagon, creating even more panic for those police officers left. Coins sailed through the air towards the police as the crowd shouted “Pigs!” and “Faggot Cops!” — remember, it might not all be 100% accurate but DAMN. By that time, at least 500 people were kicking the shit out of the police force, throwing beer cans and screaming at the top of their lungs. The police retaliated with everything that they had, forcing some to found shelter near a construction site. nevertheless, it wasn’t enough. 10 police officers barricaded themselves inside the Stonewall Inn, taking with them several detainees with them for their own “safety”. Garbage cans, bottles, rocks and bricks were thrown at the building, breaking the windows.

And now a quick flashback to yesterday’s articles. I told you that Marsha P. Johnson was known to had thrown the first brick at Stonewall, starting the Gay Rights Movement in the process ? Well, it’s a great story and it suits Marsha but it ain’t true. Johnson, though designated by many as one of the three individuals to have started the pushback, said herself in 1987 that she had arrived at around 2:00 am after hearing about the riots and informing her friend Sylvia Rivera and that the riots had already started. Nevertheless, someone reported that Marsha threw a shot glass at a mirror in the torched bar (Oops, spoilers) screaming “I got my civil rights!” and it became famous as “the shot glass that as heard around the world”. Well, almost definitely a legend.

Back to our regular broadcast.

The mob spirit was at full speed. Parking meters were uprooted from the streets and used to kick the doors in. They lit garbage on fire and stuffed it through the broken windows. The police grabbed a fire hose but break the crowd but the water pressure was low and it did nothing but encourage the people to go harder on them. When the demonstrators broke through the windows and the door flew open, the police officers pointed their weapons at them, threatening to shoot. Someone squirted lighter fluid into the bar and lit it. 45 minutes had passed since the beginning of the raid. That’s when the fire trucks AND the Tactical Patrol Force (TPF) arrived at the scene to free the police officers trapped inside the Inn. One passerby said “I had been in enough riots to know the fun was over… The cops were totally humiliated. This never, ever happened. They were angrier than I guess they had ever been, because everybody else has rioted… but the fairies were not supposed to riot. No group had ever forced to retreat before, so the anger was just enormous. I mean, they wanted to kill.” The TPF formed rectangular mass formation, marched slowly and started to push the crowd back. The mob openly mocked the police. Some were singing :

We are the Stonewall Girls We wear our hair in curls We don’t wear underwear We show our public hair

As the line got into a full kick routine, the police rushed in a cleared the crowd. One account said “I just can’t ever get that one sight out of my mind. The corps with nightsticks and the kick line on the other side. It was the most amazing thing (…) I think that’s when I felt rage. Because people were getting smashed with bats. And for what ? A Kick line”.

Participants were chased through the street by police (as they were in bigger numbers, it was easier for them). But do not think the mob got overpowered by the pigs. Oh no. They kept on running and coming back to the Stonewall area and started overturning police cars that were blocking the streets. To some reports, it was the crowd that was screaming “Catch Them!” to the police officers running away. It took until 4 am for the streets to be cleared out. Thirteen people in total had been arrested. Some were hospitalized, and four police officers were injured in the fight. The Stonewall Inn was destroyed. Pay phones, toilets, mirrors, jukeboxes. All smashed. By the morning hour, the feeling of electricity and rebellion was still in the air. This was not over.

ROUND TWO

News of the riot were quickly known to all, inside and outside Greenwich Village. The New York Times, the New York Post and the Daily News all covered the events during the night, with the latter putting it on its front page. All day, people came to take a look at the Stonewall Inn or what was left of it. Graffitis were written on the walls. “The invaded our rights”, “Legalize gay bars”, “Support Gay power”, “Drag power” and… “We are open”. 

That very night, it all happened again. Opinions differ on which night was more violent but the attitude was different. A form of structural unison was present, and the demonstrators — most of those from the previous night — were showing their true selves openly for the first time. Hugging, kissing, holding hands. “We were just out. We were on the streets” said one witness. Thousands of people gathered in front of the Stonewall before being dispatched all around the neighborhood to keep police force to intervene. They surrounded buses and cars, harassing occupants to either admit their homosexuality or their allegiance to the gay cause. 

Marsha P. Johnson (yes, and this time, it’s more solid information) climbed a lamp post and dropped a heavy bag onto the hood of a police car, shattering the windshield. Fires were once again started in garbage cans. More than a hundred police officers were trying to contain the situation and little after 2 am, the TPF showed their faces again. For the next two hours, war was upon Christopher Street and its surrounding blocks. Demonstrators were arrested, with their companions fighting back to free them. Dozens of people were hurt and bled heavily from baton kicks. At 4 am, it was over.

When recalling the events, Allen Ginsburg said to a friend “you know, the guys there were so beautiful. They’ve lost that wounded look that fags all had 10 years ago”.

AFTERMATH

At the annual picketing in front of Independence Hall in Philadelphia (organized by the Mattachine Society) on July 4th, there was some sense that things were changing. People who felt oppressed now felt empowered. Many, moved by the two nights of rebellious spirit, started attending organizational meetings, with the intent to take advantage of the opportunity for the better. But not everyone in the not-so-community was happy about what happened on Christopher Street. Older homosexuals, many members of the Mattachine Society, were embarrassed by the display of violence and effeminate behavior during those nights, as they tried for years to convince the general population that homosexuals were no different to heterosexuals. Early homophile activist Randy Wicker said “screaming queens forming chorus lines and kicking went against everything that I wanted people to think about homosexuals… that we were a bunch of drag queens in the Village acting disorderly and tacky and cheap”. Anyway. Rodwell (remember him ?) left the July 4th demonstration with a strong determination to change the established ways to get attention. All that led the creation of the Gay Liberation Front and the Christopher Street Liberation Day AKA the first pride — but that’s a story for tomorrow.

As for the Stonewall Inn ? By October 1969, it was up for rent. Rodwell’s boycott and the too-notorious riots discouraged business from interfering. Another Stonewall Inn was opened in Miami in 1972 under the same management but burned down two years later. The original Stonewall Inn was eventually leased as two separate spaces to a number of different businesses over the years. The historic vertical sign was removed in 1989 after the closure of the a two-year-life bar. Someone leased the place again with a new name but a year later came back to the original name.

Since 2006, Stonewall Inn has been owned and operated by the same person. It has been listed as a National Historic Landmark in the early 2000s and on June 24th, 2016, the Stonewall National Monument, which is directly across the street from the Stonewall Inn, was put together as the first U.S. National Monument dedicated to the Queer Rights Movement. And just so you know, I bursted crying about 6 times since I’ve started the article. This one’s the hardest.

WHAT NOW ?

First of all, do not watch the biopics about Stonewall (there’s two, and I’m not even gonna name them or their release dates because they’re horrible. Everybody’s white, no transgender people anywhere, it’s shit, shit, SHIT). Go read the overly-detailed book by David Carter named Stonewall (duh) or watch the documentary that followed called Stonewall Uprising if you want to know more that my mere 3,000+ words.

Second… Well, everything talked about in my previous articles comes directly from that life-changing night of June 28th, 1969. And so much more.

I get to have a boyfriend, to openly say that I’m queer, to write Queer articles about our struggles to at least a dozen people, struggles and beauty.

That’s all because of what happened at Stonewall Inn. Landmarks are not my thing. I do not care about buildings. When Notre-Dame burned, I was like “well, that’s too bad”. If the Tour Eiffel was to disappear, I wouldn’t cry over it. That’s because I have no emotional attachment to those kinds of things. Surprisingly, I do feel an attachment to 51–53 Christopher Street, although I’ve never been there. I don’t believe in ghosts and every time I think of this place, I feel surrounded by the spirits (alive or dead) of the only queer ancestors that we have. Because our History has been erased time after time after time. To the world, we’ve been nothing. A error of judgement from a god that doesn’t exist. Not after June 28th, 1969. 50 years ago, some homeless queers and good-for-nothing drag queens and ignored black trans women impacted our world so much that from this day on, we couldn’t be ignored.

I feel immense gratitude towards those people. That’s why I always ask Queer people I met if they know about Stonewall. Most of them in France do not. Well, they should. This article might give you a general idea of what happened but I truly invite you to go look further for yourself.

We, as Queer people, need our History to be remembered. And to make it official, it started at Stonewall.

PS the cover photo is the ONLY picture from that night. It shows Queer homeless youth trying to resist police force. The rest of the picture were taken from other nights of protests. Just so you know.

[chasingthecosmos]

By Any Other Name

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: G Pairing: The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler (The Doctor/Clara Oswald, Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswald) Chapters: 7/26 Read on AO3 here.

“Rose Tyler was dying - or, at least, she was relatively certain that that’s what was happening …” A Season 7 AU where Rose returns to her home universe only to find that 100 years have passed and nothing is quite the way that she remembers it. She wakes up with a new body, a new life, and a new Doctor. What has the Bad Wolf gotten her into this time? Rating may go up as the story continues

"So, what's everyone doing here?" Rose asked, tugging on the Doctor's elbow so that she wouldn't be separated from him and also to remind him that he couldn't simply turn and run off whenever something shiny caught his eye.

"They're here for the Festival of Offerings!" he announced grandly, smiling back at her. "Takes place every thousand years or so when the rings align. It's quite a big thing, locally - like, er ... Pancake Tuesday!"

Just then, one of the aliens in the booth they were passing by grabbed Rose's arm and forced her to a stop. She whirled to find a woman (at least, she thought it might be a woman) with an oddly dog-like face and menacing teeth staring down at her.

"Looking for a bauble, Miss?" the strange woman asked loudly. "We've got the finest wares in the whole System, right here! You'd look amazing in Reluvian Gold. What do you say, Sir? A fine necklace for the missus? Or earrings! We've got earrings!"

"Thanks, we'll have a look around," the Doctor replied politely, but Rose noticed that he brushed the alien's demanding grip off of her arm with enough force and authority to warn her that she should keep her hands to herself from now on.

"Do all of these aliens speak English?" Rose asked mildly, knowing that she would have to replay this old conversation as well, so as not to raise suspicion.

"Ah, that's the TARDIS!" the Doctor explained, just as excitedly as he had the first time around. "There's a telepathic field that she can project into your mind to translate spoken and written languages. Comes in handy quite a lot. You can understand them, and they can understand you!"

Rose fought the instinct to roll her eyes at him as she began to peruse the booth's wares. It seemed that he still didn't quite grasp why some humans might have an issue with his strange blue box getting inside of their heads. But Rose and the TARDIS had been through so many things together by now, she found that she couldn't really bring herself to be as angry as she had been the first time he had explained his ship's telepathic abilities.

"So, what do you say? Anything catch your eye?" the Doctor went on casually, watching Rose carefully as she inspected the glittering alien jewelry before them.

"I don't have any money," Rose reminded him, flashing him a pointed look over her shoulder as she leaned closer to poke at a long chain that looked to be made of gold. She knew that the Doctor didn't normally travel with currency - and she doubted that a century of time without her would have been enough to change that particular habit.

"Neither do I," the Doctor replied predictably, "but they don't use money, here. They trade in value. The more sentimental something is, the more value it has. A photograph, a love letter, something like that. It's called psychometry - the objects psychically imprinted with their history."

"That's ... different," Rose admitted, scrunching up her nose as she continued to casually shop through the alien woman's wares. How did someone rate value? It seemed a bit subjective to her.

"Better than using bits of paper," the Doctor countered stubbornly.

"Fine, then you pay," Rose challenged, flashing him a teasing look. "You're a thousand years old. You must have something you care about." No, he never traveled with money, but she knew for a fact that he did have bigger-on-the-inside pockets that were filled with various bits and pieces of varying value.

But the Doctor simply shrugged noncommittally and turned away from her without a response, a strange cloud darkening his green eyes.

"Talk about a cheap date," Rose teased, smiling at him in an attempt to lighten his mood.

"Oi!" he protested indignantly. The Doctor whirled around to glare at her, but at least the forlorn look had left his expression. "It's ... not a date," he grumbled under his breath as he turned to scowl at a row of bracelets that were studded with some sort of pink-colored gem.

"Alright, then, what can I use?" Rose asked, looking down at herself and trying to think of what she might have that would hold any sort of value. This was a new world, a new body, and new clothes - none of it held much meaning to her.

"What about your ring?" the Doctor asked mildly, not even turning to look at her.

"My what?"

"Your ring," he repeated, turning to nod pointedly at her left hand before turning his back on her once more.

Rose furrowed her brow as she glanced down at her left hand in confusion and noted for the first time that there was a thin, brass-colored ring around her third finger.

"But that's ..." she murmured breathlessly.

It wasn't her wedding ring - that had been handmade by her husband, and she knew for a fact that there wasn't another single ring like it in any number of parallel worlds. But it followed the same general shape that she had grown so accustomed to wearing over the past seventy-or-so years of marriage. It was thin around the bottom and widened towards the top, a single, open circle sitting where she was used to seeing a delicate rose-colored gem.

"That's got plenty of value," the Doctor continued with his back to her, his tone as unaffected as though he were simply discussing the weather. "You could buy this entire booth with that ring alone."

"No, that's ... I'm fine," Rose stuttered, trying to force words out through the sudden lump in her throat. "I don't really want anything anyway. It's fine. Let's go."

The Doctor flashed her an assessing look out of the corner of his eye, but then simply shrugged and led them off further into the alien bazaar. "Are you married, then, Clara Oswald?" he asked casually, his hands tucked primly behind his back as he quietly matched his pace to hers.

"I used to be," Rose replied quietly, staring down hard at her hand as she slowly twisted the ring around her finger. How had she not noticed it before? And how long had the Doctor known that it was there? Knowing him, he had probably seen it from the moment he first laid eyes on her.

"Bit young to be a widow, aren't you?" he asked curiously, and Rose wasn't even surprised that he had so accurately gauged the situation.

"Says the thousand-year-old alien with the baby face," she murmured sarcastically, flashing him a sardonic look out of the corner of her eye.

The Doctor chuckled good-naturedly, but Rose knew that he wasn't done questioning her - not by a long shot. "It's also a bit rude to assume a woman's age like that, Doctor," she continued, pretending to scold him. "And, just so you know, it's human custom to offer condolences in a situation like this."

"Oh, right ..." he murmured awkwardly. "Sorry."

Rose flashed him a forgiving smile and was prepared to let the topic of conversation drop when the Doctor suddenly asked, "How did he die?"

And Rose knew that she shouldn't tell him the truth - this conversation was dangerous enough already. After all, this man who she was talking to now was deeply connected to her husband in a way that was confusing and terrifying all at once. She knew that she shouldn't have even let on that she was married in the first place - the Doctor was right, her new, mid-twenties body would raise questions if she went around like the grieving widow that she was. But how was she supposed to know that the Bad Wolf would somehow make her a parallel approximation of her wedding ring without telling her?

Still, the temptation to blurt out the truth was too great to be ignored. She knew that it was selfish, but Rose had no one else who she could talk to about her husband, and she still missed him so terribly that it took her breath away sometimes. The man before her may be wearing a different face, but in some ways, he was the only other person in this world who even knew who her husband was.

"His heart gave out," she muttered, not daring to meet the Doctor's eye as she spoke. "About a year-and-a-half ago."

And for once, the Doctor surprised her by letting the conversation end there. Rose knew that he had more questions - how could he not? But he kept them politely to himself as he nodded solemnly and repeated his quiet condolences.

Rose, however, knew that she was never going to get a better chance than this, so she asked, "What about you, Doctor? You're a thousand years old, why are you wandering out here alone? Don't you have other friends or ... anyone else?" She didn't dare bring up Susan again, and certainly not Gallifrey, but Rose hoped that maybe he would deflect the question and at least tell her about his most recent companions. He had had friends in the dalek asylum, and the fact that he had still not brought them up concerned her greatly.

"Friends? Yes, of course I have friends!" the Doctor replied, his loud exuberance returning once more, along with his nervous fidgeting. "I've got loads of friends - all in different time periods across the galaxy. You can't do as much traveling as I do without making friends."

And enemies, Rose thought silently to herself. Out loud, she asked, "Well ... where are they, then? Why aren't they here with you?" And she knew that it hurt him to remember, but she just had to know what had put that deep, heavy sadness on his shoulders.

The Doctor only paused for a moment, but it was all that Rose needed to see that his hurt ran even deeper than she could have imagined. Finally, he threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, "Nah, they've got better things to do! They're all off living their lives, having babies and anniversaries and building debt - all that boring, normal stuff. They don't need me. Besides - I've got all of time and space to see! Can't forget that. There's so much that needs doing - worlds to save, people to meet, food to try."

The Doctor punctuated his chattering words by dipping his finger into the green whipped thing that was still slowly melting in Rose's hands and then brought it to his mouth with a gleeful grin.

"See?" he insisted eagerly. "Can't get that back on Earth, now, can you?"

Rose took a moment to watch him before replying. She wanted so badly to tell him the full truth of who she was, but she still didn't quite know how to explain this strange situation that they now found themselves in. She knew that as long as she decided to keep this secret, she would have to be subtle in order to keep him from getting suspicious, but she couldn't have stopped the words that came next even if she wanted to. She knew that he needed them now as much as he had back when he had first met her, and she wasn't about to let the Doctor go on in misery if there was anything that she could do to stop it.

"It's better with two," she muttered quietly. "Wouldn't you say, Doctor?"

Her words stopped him in his tracks and the Doctor turned to stare at her in unrestrained shock for a moment. She could practically see his brain working behind those new, bright green eyes of his. He was looking at her as though he had seen a ghost, and he wasn't quite sure if he could believe the proof of his own two eyes.

Rose threw caution to the wind as she stepped forward and firmly took his hand in hers. She watched as all of the air whooshed out of his lungs as though she had firmly and solidly hit him right in the gut.

"Right ..." he murmured slowly, continuing to stare down at her with a complicated expression. "Quite right." And Rose was pleasantly surprised when he offered her a kind smile instead of more suspicion.

"This way!" he said, suddenly tugging on her hand and jolting her immediately back into the adventure that he had planned. "There's this Hilomian soothsayer that you simply have to meet. Oh, I hope he's still here. The last time we met, he told me ..."

And just like that, he was back to his over-ecstatic Doctor-teaching-mode and he went about leading her off to see the many wonders of the universe. Rose grinned like a fool as she followed after him, hoping beyond hope that maybe this time the universe would be kind, and she wouldn't have to be torn from his side again.

[emmagreen1220-blog]

New Post has been published on Business Terms

New Post has been published on https://businessterms.org/money-supply/

Money Supply

What is the Money Supply?

The money supply is the stock of money in the economy. It is determined by the uses to which certain physical and financial assets are put. For example, in many cultures in the past, shells have been used as money. In those cultures, the shells thus used would have formed part of the money supply. Therefore, any investigation of the money supply must consider the functions that money performs in the economy.

Money performs a number of roles in our economy. At least four can be identified. Money functions (i) as a medium of exchange; (ii) as a unit of account; (iii) as a store of value; and (iv) as a means of making payments inter-temporarily, i.e., over time. Its most obvious role, the one everyone is familiar with, is as a medium of exchange, the role it performs, most notably, in commerce.

The importance of money as a medium of exchange has given rise to speculation that its origins stem from that role. In the absence of money, an economy would have to resort to bartering and face the problem of the “double coincidence of wants.” For example, a farmer who wanted to consume meat would not only have to find a butcher but one who wanted wheat. However, in a money economy, all he need do is sell his wheat and use some of the proceeds to purchase meat. As such, money allows a wider range of transactions than would otherwise be possible.

Others (Innes, 1913) have suggested that money first arose to facilitate inter-temporal transactions. The farmer must eat his meat today if he is to survive but his crops may not be ready for harvesting right now. He can, however, issue an IOU to the butcher, i.e., a promise to pay at some future time. If the farmer is known as an honorable man, the butcher can use his IOU to pay the shop for his wife’s new clothes. This hypothesis has some credence, since most (over 90 percent) money today is a form of debt.

Money is a store of value, but for individuals only and not for the economy as a whole. For an individual, money is simply another form of wealth. Having a house worth one million dollars is equivalent to having one million dollars in a bank account. Moreover, the role of money as a store of value derives from its function as a unit of account. A unit of account is a measure that allows the comparison of value.

History of the Money Supply

Historically, many commodities have been used as money, for example salt. Some historians, citing Pliny the Elder, claim the term “salary” to be derived from the Roman word for salt, although others have disputed this. Regardless, metals have proved to have many of the characteristics required of money. They are durable and easily divisible into amounts that are portable.

Of all the metals used for money, none have assumed greater importance than silver and gold. No doubt because of their limited supply and physical characteristics, there has always been an intrinsic demand for these two metals. In almost all cultures, they are used for jewelry and ornamentation. In addition, gold possesses unique properties that add to its mystique. Not only is it immutable, i.e., does not tarnish, but it has a high degree of malleability and ductility. Its malleability means that one ounce of gold can be beaten into a sheet measuring 100 square feet. Its ductility allows one ounce to be drawn into approximately 50 miles (80 kilometers) of thin gold wire.

From the earliest times, in most cultures, silver and gold in the form of coins were used as money. This historic use of silver and gold makes some argue that only silver and gold are “real” money. However, whether or not a thing is regarded as money depends on the function it performs rather than what it is. A better understanding of what the “money supply” consists of may be gained by following its development over time.

By the medieval period, most money consisted of coin made from silver or gold. Thus, the money supply was mostly coin, at times supplemented by bullion, bills of exchange and other valuable commodities. A bill of exchange is an order, in writing, requiring payment to a specified person or bearer at a specified time. A check is a bill of exchange.

Fiat Money

In the West, paper money was derived from the use of silver and gold. Owners of these precious metals would leave them with goldsmiths, whose well-fortified premises and vaults promised greater security. In return, the goldsmith would issue a receipt to the owner. If someone had to be paid, the owner of the gold would give that person the goldsmith’s receipt or would write instructions to the goldsmith – a check – who would release the required amount of gold. Very often, for security reasons again, the payee preferred the goldsmith to hold onto the gold. Therefore, the goldsmith would hardly ever have to dispense gold. All he need do was keep a record of transactions. This allowed the goldsmith to issue additional “receipts” to those who wanted to borrow money. By the late Renaissance, the issue of “receipts” or “notes” by goldsmiths had become accepted. Together with coin, such notes now made up the money supply.

The first such notes issued under the authority of a European government were those issued by Stockholms Banco of Sweden in 1660. Other European governments followed Sweden’s lead, allowing banks in their countries to issue notes, which naturally took on the name of “banknotes.” Generally, banknotes were redeemable in coin. For example, until 1971, the U.S. dollar could be exchanged for gold, on demand. To a large extent, at this point, the money supply would have consisted of money issued by the government or a central bank, which is why it is sometimes referred to as central bank money. Although, currency in the U.S. today is not redeemable in gold, it is backed by the “full faith and credit” of the U.S. government. The U.S. dollar has been declared by fiat (formal authorization) to be legal tender by the federal government; hence it is known as fiat money.

Over time, as public acceptability grew, banknotes, particularly those issued by a central bank became trusted in their own right. Very few members of the public sought to redeem them in gold. Moreover, the use of checks to transfer cash in the bank and make payments developed and increased. A corollary to this was that a bank was only having to pay out part of the cash it held in its vaults. This allowed the bank to extend loans just as the goldsmiths did. To do so, a bank would record the transaction by opening a “bank account” for the amount of the loan. The borrower could then withdraw banknotes against the balance or make payments by way of check. In effect, the bank account had become a medium of exchange. And since it was not opened to record a deposit of cash or gold, it was actually new money. By making a loan, the bank had increased the money supply. The money supply now consisted of coin, banknotes and bank accounts. However, unlike the coin and banknotes, bank accounts were entirely a creation of the commercial banks.

All that Glitters is Not Gold

The way that depositary institutions create money is usually explained in economics texts as giving rise to a fractional reserve banking system, an extension of the concept that made it possible for goldsmiths and banks to make loans. If only a fraction of funds – gold or cash – was being withdrawn, additional bank accounts could be opened for those who borrowed from the bank. To ensure that adequate central bank money was on hand to meet demand from the public, a central bank would impose a “reserve ratio” on banks. A reserve ratio of 10 percent meant that a bank’s reserve must never fall below 10 percent of deposits. In theory, this would allow a bank to increase its lending by $10 for every $1 it received on deposit. Thus, a fractional reserve banking system gives rise to a money multiplier, which works as illustrated below.

Bank Deposit Reserves Loans A 100.00 10.00 90.00 B 90.00 9.00 81.00 C 81.00 8.10 72.90 D 72.90 7.29 65.61 E 65.61 6.56 59.05 Total 1,000.00 100.00 900.00

  After someone deposits $100 in Bank A, the bank must retain $10 to comply with the reserve requirement of 10%. This allows it to lend $90, which it does. The borrower deposits the funds at Bank B, which subject to the same reserve ratio, must keep $9 to back the deposit of $90. Bank B goes on to lend out $81, which ends up in Bank C. This process is repeated throughout the banking system, eventually resulting in an increase of $1,000 in the money supply, of which $100 is central bank money and $900 is money created by the commercial banking sector.

This process can be expressed by the money multiplier formula:

D = C.(1/R), where D are deposits, C is central bank money (currency) and R is the reserve ratio. In our example above, deposits (D) = 100.(1/0.1) = $1,000.

It’s possible the banking system may have worked that way in the past. However, leading authorities from the Bank of England, the European Central Bank (ECB) and the U.S. Federal Reserve System have indicated that that is no longer an accurate description of how money is created. Rather, banks extend credit and make loans to creditworthy borrowers and the central bank provides the reserves required to meet the demands of the public.

Here is an excerpt from a paper presented by someone who should know, Alan Holmes. Mr. Holmes, a Senior Vice President at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, was responsible for the creation of central bank money in the U.S. for 14 years.

There is “a naive assumption that the banking system only expands loans after the System (or market factors) have put reserves in the banking system. In the real world, banks extend credit, creating deposits in the process, and look for the reserves later. The question then becomes one of whether and how the Federal Reserve will accommodate the demand for reserves. In the very short run, the Federal Reserve has little or no choice about accommodating that demand…”

The Money Aggregates

Money Stock M1

M1 is made up of notes and coin and several other financial instruments that the general public may not consider to be money. However, the Federal Reserve includes them because they are used as a medium of exchange and thus, on that account, perform a monetary function. Consequently, M1 is composed of currency in the hands of the public, checking accounts at commercial banks, deposit accounts against which checks can be written, and traveler’s checks issued by institutions that are not banks. Current information on M1 can be obtained from FRED – Federal Reserve Economic Data – from the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis.

Money Stock M2

M2 is a broader measure of the money supply than M1. It counts as money not only those financial instruments that generally act as a medium of exchange but also act as a store of value, another important function of money. Therefore, M2 includes M1 plus three other types of financial assets. These are (i) savings deposits, including money market deposit accounts; (ii) fixed deposits less than $100,000; and (iii) and retail money market mutual funds. Current information on M2 can be obtained from FRED – Federal Reserve Economic Data – from the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis.

Money Stock M3

M3 consisted of time deposits $100,000 and over, repurchase agreements (RPs) larger than $100,000 and longer than one day (called term RPs), and institutional money market mutual fund accounts.

Sometimes, M0 is used to denote central bank money, which consists of coin and currency in circulation, cash in bank vaults, and balances held in reserve accounts at the central bank by commercial banks and other depository institutions. In the U.S., M0 is called the “monetary base (MB).” Since March 2006, the Fed has stopped releasing information on M3, since “M3 does not appear to convey any additional information about economic activity that is not already embodied in M2… ” The money supply measures are meant to reflect differing roles of money; MI measures money used as medium of exchange, while M2 measures money used as store of value. The charts above show the two money supply aggregates.

The stock of money in the economy – the money stock – changes from moment to moment, as money is created or destroyed. The aggregates – MB, M1, and M2 – go up or down as their components are increased or reduced. The monetary base (MB), for example, varies as the Federal Reserve buys or sells certain assets, such as Treasury securities, while MI varies as loans by depository institutions – commercial banks, savings banks and credit unions – are made and paid off. Generally, the money stock rises as the economy gets bigger. It has grown by over 800 percent since 1980. The nature of money has changed over time. In ancient times, it was some commodity that had intrinsic value, such as salt, silver or gold. Today, it is mostly entries in the ledgers of depository institutions. With the advent of cryptocurrencies, our measures of money supply are likely to be very different in the future.

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[thorupbojsen6-blog]

The Lazy Way To vortex venom red dot

One among the very popular styles from the firearms industry within the last two yrs has really come to be the handgun mounted reddish dot. Like along time staple of limitless course contest pistols, the manufacturers are finding ways to produce the reddish dots much more meaningful and also considerably more lasting to changeover them to re take pistols. As an established pioneer in the current marketplace, Vortex Optics was on the very top of things with n one but 2 new handgun red dots released for the particular use. Besides vortex venom manual built Razor red dot that's been already around in the marketplace to get a couple of decades today, the brand new Venom along with Viper reddish dots are somewhat marginally even larger to accommodate standard handgun mounting plates like the people awarded all the MOS and even Smith and Wesson M&P Core apparatus. 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Venom · Reticle 6 & 3 MOA Dot alternatives · Dot Coloration Bright-red (Adaptive) · Eye Alleviation Limitless · Excess Fat 1.1 ounce. · Length 1.9" · Max Wind age Adjustment 120 MOA · Magnification 1x · Mount Pica tinny Viper · Reticle 6 MOA Dot · Dot Coloration Bright-red (Adaptive) · Eye Alleviation Limitless · Unwanted Fat 1.34 oz. · Period 1.8" · Max Elevation Adjustment One-hundred Ten MOA · Max Wind era Adjustment a Hundred MOA · Magnification 1x · Mount Pica tinny Further Things in Every Box · Pica tinny Mount · Rain Pro Tect · Lens Cloth · Mounting Screws · CR 1632 Battery · Screw-driver · Assortment Time Last year twelve months I were lucky for Viper and Venom red dot optics for analyzing into some Glocks I would use of. Fellow gun author because of the Swanson Media team, " Craig Reynolds conducted the Viper on his own personalised Glock 3-4 MOS 9 mm though I initially analyzed the Venom within my own Glock 34 MOS. 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[alwaysyourqueen]

all the even questions :)

Sorry for the delay!

1. How do you define your sexuality?I'm am lesbean


2. At what age did you first realize that you like girls?like 11 maybe

3. At what age did you first come out?????? I don't remember


4. Who was the first person you came out to? How did they take it?I don't remember

5. How out are you?Out almost everywhere, just not really my parents


6. Has coming out lost you any friends?
I don't think so

7. What is your current relationship status?Taken ❤️❤️❤️


8. How many LGBT friends do you have?Most of my friends are LGBT


9. Do you have any LGBT relatives?None as far as I know


10. Have you ever cut your hair super short?Yes


11. How often do you wear flannel?Not often I don't own many


12. How much do you like cats?I love love love cats


13. Do you wear skirts and dresses? If so, how often?Not often, but I do wear them


14. Do you wear high heels? If so, how often?I do, but not often. Usually borrowed.


15. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what of and where?Not yet.


16. How accurate is your gaydar?Pretty accurate. Usually I don’t use my gaydar unless it’s someone I personally know, and I have a pretty good sense usually.


17. Have you ever been to a gay bar or a gay club?I’m underage so no.


18. How do you feel when platonic female friends refer to each other as girlfriends?
Like a punch in the gut.

19. Have you ever had a crush on a straight girl?
Hahahahahahahahahaahahahahahaha yes.

20. Ellen or Portia?How dare you


21. Is your nose pierced?
Nope

22. Would you ever want to get married, if not already?YES


23. Will you wear a dress for your wedding?
idk maybe?

24. Would you ever want to give birth?I’ve thought about it. Maybe.


25. Have you ever watched The L Word?Nope


26. Have you ever dated a guy?
Nah

27. How do you feel when someone uses the word gay to mean stupid, dumb, or boring?Like I’m in physical pain


28. How many rainbow items do you own?Not enough


29. Have you ever been to a pride festival?
Nope

30. Have you ever celebrated National Coming Out Day (October 11)?Not yet. Maybe this will be the year


31. Have you ever participated in the National Day of Silence?
No, I haven’t been able to

32. Have you ever worn a woman’s suit?
Not yet

33. Have you ever worn any men’s clothing?Ye, but not a lot of it or obviously


34. Do you eat meat?
Yes

35. Do you consider yourself a feminist?Absolutely


36. Who is your favorite LGBT celebrity?Maybe Hayley Kiyoko?


37. Are you religious at all?Atheist through and through


38. How often do you find yourself trying to sneak a peak or staring at a cute female?I look at cute girls a lot even though my girlfriend is the cutest girl


39. What is your ideal first date?
Mmm probably going out to eat together, then maybe seeing a movie or a show or taking a walk together, then sitting down at one of our houses and eating ice cream/some other dessert

40. Are you comfortable with terms such as lezzie, lesbo, dyke, or tranny?
I can’t reclaim tr*nny because I’m not a trans woman, but I’m okay with lesbo, lezzie, and dyke so long as it’s lesbians saying it. No one else can use them.

41. How outdoorsy are you?Not very at all.


42. In general, has being open about your sexuality affected your relationships with other females?
Some people have become less comfortable with me.

43. How much makeup do you typically wear?none


44. Have you ever attended a gay or lesbian wedding?Not as far as I can remember


45. Are you more feminine or more masculine?idk?? Feminine I suppose


46. How long is the longest relationship you’ve been in? Are you still with that person?
A year or so, and no.

47. Have you and a girlfriend ever been mistaken for sisters?
I don’t think so, but we might’ve come close

48. Do you think it is possible for someone to truly be a 50/50 bisexual, or is the percentage always skewed in favor of one gender?
I think that it’s possible but also entirely their decision

49. Have you ever wished you were completely straight?
Yes

50. Do you watch any LGBT YouTubers?No I don’t watch youtube


51. Do you wear any combat boots, Doc Martins, or Timberlands?I want combat boots


52. Have you ever been hit on by another female?
yes

53. How athletic are you?Not very? I am trying to exercise


54. What are your views on gender identity and bathroom use?
People can identify however they want as long as it’s not things like “gay for men trans woman” or “lesbian trans man” bc that’s gross, but like ? as long as it’s not terf-y or truscum-y then people can identify how they like. And as long as I can pee in peace I don’t care who’s in the same restroom

55. What is your opinion of septum/bull nose piercings?More power to you, but it’s not for me


56. What does equality mean to you?
People being treated equally and inequalities being actively looked at and changed

57. If you are not a lesbian, about what percentage of the time do you find yourself attracted to other females?
I am a lesbian

58. Have you ever shared clothes with a girlfriend?No


59. Have you ever liked or dated a girl with the same name as you?No


60. How flirty are you?Not very


61. Are you a virgin?Yes


62. Do you listen to any LGBT musicians (i.e. Tegan & Sara, Melissa Ehteridge, Chely Wright, Elton John, Sam Smith, George Michael, Adam Lambert)?
I listen to Hayley Kiyoko and I’ve probably listened to other gay artists but idk I don’t listen to music much

63. Have you ever been told that you are too pretty to be gay?
No

64. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your sexuality or gender identity? If so, please explain.No because I mostly keep it under wraps (at least up until recently)

65. Have you ever driven an SUV, Jeep, or a pickup truck?
Nope

66. Are you or have you ever been a tomboy?Yeah


67. Agree or disagree: Everyone is at least a little bit gay.
Disagree. A lot of people experience internalized homophobia and don’t realize their real identity, but some people are just plainly straight

68. What personality trait are you most attracted to?
Willingness to share interests

69. Boobs or butts?Beautiful women


70. Beer or wine?Hate both


71. Do you have a favorite lesbian movie?Bend It Like Beckham was gay and you can’t tell me otherwise


72. From 1-10, how attractive are muscular women?
73. From 1-10, how attractive are women who wear glasses?74. From 1-10, how attractive are women who are covered with tattoos?
75. From 1-10, how attractive are curvy/plus-size women?76. From 1-10, how attractive are women with short hair?
77. From 1-10, how attractive are masculine butch women?78. From 1-10, how attractive are highly intelligent women?
79. From 1-10, how attractive are tall women (i.e. around 6 feet or taller)?For all of the above, 10. I love women.


80. Have you ever been on your period the same time as a girlfriend?
Not that I can think of

81. Has a girl ever dumped you for a guy?
Not as far as I know

82. Do you carry a purse?
yes

83. Has anyone ever told you that you look gay (i.e. like a lesbian)?I don’t remember if so


84. Have you ever pretended to be completely straight?
Yes

85. Would you ever date a trans girl?
I am dating one right now

86. How well do you think LGBT women are portrayed on television?Badly


87. Have you ever had a crush on a woman who’s much older than you?
Y E S

88. Do you have any celebrity crushes?
Not that I can think of

89. Do you have any opinions on LGBT people in the military?
They have the same issues as anyone else in the military as well as homophobia/biphobia/transphobia/etc.

90. Do you believe in love at first sight?I believe in infatuation at first sight


91. Do you know what the Dinah Shore Weekend is? If so, have you ever been?No

92. Where do you think is the best place to meet a potential lover?Uhh as a lesbian: the internet


93. Is there such a thing as “good” lesbian porn?
Don’t know don’t care (except on the level of supporting lesbian sex workers)

94. Have you ever had a one night stand?No


95. How often do you wear a bra?
Every day

96. Have you ever been part of a softball team?Nope


97. If you could live your life all over again, would you still be attracted to other women?Hell fucking yeah


98. What stereotype about LGBT women do you disagree with the most?
That they are angry and violent towards men just because they are men

99. What advice would you give a girl who is struggling to figure out her sexuality?Take your time. There’s all the time in the world to figure out who you are.


100. What advice would you give a girl who is struggling to come out?Come out a little at a time. Maybe not first to your parents, maybe not casually mentioning it. Maybe mention it first to your best friend. Then some other friends. Then one parent. Then the other. And these can be months or years apart. Take it slow and do what you’re comfortable doing.