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givemearmstopraywith · 1 year ago

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hey, absolutely no disrespect meant here, but i noticed in one post you referred to yourself as a jew, and in another said you were censoring g-d out of respect to your family's jewish heritage, which you are exploring. amongst all this, you are clearly a christian. are you jewish or not? if you are not personally jewish, i really don't think you should be referring to yourself as a jew in a post where you claim christian theology (jesus being g-d) is true.

instead of sending me asks like this, can you maybe google what it means to be jewish, or what it means to be a jew? there is a wikipedia page about this. that way i don't i have to repeatedly unpack my generational trauma on the internet for (literally) thousands of strangers? the search function on my blog is broken- fine, but i have talked about this a lot, repeatedly, in the time i've had this blog, and it is not something i feel comfortable divulging openly. nor should i have to- nor should i have to worry about my identity being policed by strangers. this ask is worded with a certain tone of well-meaning authority, which is fine, i understand, and i am not mad at you, nor do i think you are trying to come across as harsh. i appreciate that you took the time to send this because it shows well-meaning concern. but this tone of authority comes from somewhere. where is it coming from? if you do not already know how i can be a jew and talk about christian theology, then you don't have the authority to question my identity, because questioning that means you must have no prior knowledge of the history of the jews whatsoever, about religious versus ethnic identity, the history of forced conversions to which jews have been subject, the necessity for religious and cultural assimilation, and so on.

whether you intend this or not- and i don't think you do, insomuch as i think you are genuinely well-meaning and don't want to harm or offend me personally- the wording of your question demands, implicitly, that i need to unpack both my personal ethnic and religious history, as well as that of my family. i am either lying about being a jew or i am not qualified to talk about my own identity because i must be christian, or i am not qualified to talk about christianity because im a jew. both of those things, being jewish and christian, of which i am both and neither because i am an ethnic jew who has not been baptized but studies christianity theology, are fraught with generational trauma and a certain concept of privilege, in the sense that a non-jew would never be asked to justify their connection to judaism versus their connection to christianity, because non-jews are not subjected to the same level of biopolicing that jews historically have been. a non-jew can move in and out of the spaces of judaism and christianity at will. whether i practice judaism or i practice christianity, whether i get a rhinoplasty or change my name, whether i censor g-d or type out the name in full, i will always be a jew. someone who is not ethnically jewish can convert to judaism from christianity and leave christianity behind in full, but i cannot opt out of being a jew, nor can any jew. centuries of ethnic cleansing have cemented this as fact.

if jewish people- who practice judaism or who are non-practicing ethnic jews- want to criticize what i talk about they are welcome to, but i have yet to encounter any jews who do, on or offline.

to make it clear again: i don't have a problem with you specifically, but i've had this blog for nearly six years, i have been studying theology for four of those years, and every so often i get a bunch of messages like this that parrot the exact same questions i get asked by other christians in my theology program that very, very genuinely can be answered by googling "what is a jew?" rather than telling me how i should refer to myself. and i am kinda tired of it! i am kinda tired.

#most of the jews i know are non practicing and/or christian and i shouldnt need to explain the intricacies of my identity every single time #i think about formally converting to judaism #replies #like you just dont have these kind of conversations when you are not on the internet

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dvp95 · 5 years ago

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quiet on widow’s peak (6)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.9k (this chapter), 19.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Hope my friends and I didn't make things weird for you yesterday. We're heading to the city around noon if you're still up for helping us with the boring part.

noon?? fucking alright i guess i gotta put pants on

lmao yeah, sorry. My parents woke us up at EIGHT like that's a normal time to be awake????

desgostang

What?

ill send u the link later and also no i didnt feel weird yesterday you guys are nice

That's good! And hey I wanted to ask. You were kind of put on the spot with introducing yourself, would you rather we called you Dan or Winnie? I just wanna make sure we aren't making you uncomfortable at all lmao

no its all fine you can call me dan idc and actually its best if you do call me dan when youre in my work lmao

Are you totally sure?

why would i lie abt this. dont be an idiot it isnt a good look on you

haha okay. I’ll see you around noon.

“Christopher is a nice boy,” Phil’s mum is telling him as she helps him with their fancy new coffeemaker. There are so many buttons and Phil is so, so tired. “And Sophie is lovely, such a soft-spoken thing. Why haven’t we met them before, dear?”

“Dunno,” Phil says instead of the truth, which is that he’d had no idea how he was supposed to introduce them. “You have now, though.”

His mum laughs and reaches up to pat his cheek. “True enough. I’m so happy that you’ve got good people around you, Philip. I’ve gotten quite worried about you down there by yourself, you know.”

“I’m not by myself,” says Phil. “I live with, like, thirty people.”

“Bunch of strangers, I’ll bet,” she says, because she knows him. “Aside from those three.”

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Phil’s obviously exaggerating about the number of people under the roof of the creaky Brighton house, but the truth is that he can’t keep track half the time. A lot of the rooms get sublet out randomly, or a significant other will start spending so much time around the place that they might as well pay rent, and Phil really isn’t good with new people. He gets along fine with Holly and Dave, but they’ve been there as long as he has and the closest they’ve ever come to a heart-to-heart was comparing anxiety meds over burned pancakes.

Chris and Sophie were there when Phil moved in, and they’d taken one look at him and decided to just keep shoving into his space until he liked having them there, like they were on a mission to adopt PJ’s sad, ghost-obsessed friend from the internet.

“You might be right,” Phil says, feeling a smile tug at his lips for the first time all morning. He’s already had a coffee - and a half, when PJ declared that not even Kath could make coffee taste good and shoved the rest of his Phil’s way - but he still doesn’t feel fully awake. “I’m only really friends with Chris and Soph because of PJ.”

“PJ is a good friend to you, isn’t he?” his mum hums. That slightly pointed tone doesn’t get to Phil the way it usually does, because he knows that she’s just trying to understand him.

It doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that he’s looking into a mirror whenever he sees his parents watching him carefully, waiting for him to tell them something he hasn’t explicitly said, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to his housemates for nearly two years.

Maybe he’ll tell his parents when he’s got someone serious or even, like, semi-serious. Longer than two dates would be a record at this point. But right now he already feels like he’s been one misstep away from disappointing them, and he doesn’t want to take the gamble that his sexuality will be that misstep.

He’s not up for this conversation, though, isn’t sure he’ll ever be, so he just says, “Yeah, he is.”

Dan is late. They’re so late, actually, that Phil’s wheel of worst case scenarios has been spinning silently and getting faster and faster the more caffeine he chugs. They roll in with flushed cheeks and a jacket that looks too thin, apologies on their shiny lips that Phil doesn’t even hear for a couple of seconds because he’s too busy staring at them.

“No worries,” Sophie says, interrupting their rambling before they lose another half hour to it. “You want something? I’m getting a refill.”

“No, no, let me,” says Dan. They shrug off their jacket and hang it on one of the empty chairs. Phil and his friends have co-opted the largest table in the place so they can spread out with their laptops and notebooks, and it doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that Dan has decided to sit next to him when they’ve got a couple of options. “I get free drinks if Gabe’s in a good mood. Anyone else need a refill?”

“Me,” Chris says, not looking up from his screen. “Not Phil. He’s cut off.”

“Hey,” Phil protests weakly. His heart rate really has picked up since they sat down, so he knows Chris has a point.

Dan grins, their soft cheeks giving way to the dimples that Phil is very quickly growing obsessed with. He just wants to make Dan smile and laugh constantly, to hear them cackle and see all the lines in their round face deepen with happiness.

Right. Phil watched a horror movie with PJ instead of unpacking this fluttering start of a crush last night, and now he’s just got to deal with it for the rest of the day.

As if it’s a compulsion, Dan clears the empty mugs from their table before heading up to the counter. Phil focuses on the EMF readings so he doesn’t get caught up on Dan holding four mugs by the handles with total ease.

PJ has got headphones on and his eyes closed, so he might not even have noticed that Dan is there. He’s been going through Sophie’s footage and his own audio recordings to try and find some anomalies while Chris looks for the weird visual stuff - they’re a great team at that, and it makes Phil feel like he’s not doing enough. Sure, he could find those things on his own, but not as quickly as they can when it’s a team effort, and they’re on a bit of a tight schedule here. Well, his housemates are. They’ve got actual jobs to get back to once the weekend is over.

Allegedly, Sophie is doing research on sigils, but it looks to Phil like she’s just doodling. Not that he really blames her if she is. He’s barely been paying attention to the chart he’s making of spikes in electromagnetism because he’s been so busy watching the door for Dan.

And Dan looks… good. They’re wearing chunky boots and a shirt that falls to their thighs - a dress, maybe, but it looks like a regular black t-shirt that got extended at the hem - with tight white jeans. The only colour on them is the plaid shirt around their waist and the shiny red product on their lips to match it. Phil watches them lean against the counter and grin at the older barista, and he’s so distracted by looking at their profile that he startles when a foot connects with his under the table.

“Stop staring,” Sophie says, quiet and smiling. “He’s going to notice.”

Phil considers correcting her, but then he remembers that he probably doesn’t have to. Dan had said any pronouns, that they didn’t care how they were referred to, so it would definitely be weirder to act like he knows better than Sophie.

He knows he won’t be able to use masculine terms for Dan. Not because they aren’t true, because he’s pretty sure they’re no less accurate than neutral or feminine would be, but because thinking of Dan as a maculine person is only going to allow Phil’s brain to fall into the familiar traps of gender in ways he doesn’t want to allow.

Gay monkey brain doesn’t need any more leeway in finding Dan attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“So, what are we doing?” Dan asks, interrupting Phil’s thoughts, and, wow, four mugs is a lot more impressive when they’re full of hot liquid. Phil marvels at Dan’s ability not to trip and spill it all as they dole out the coffee and teas.

“I’m doing the boring part,” says Phil. He turns his screen so Dan can see the Excel spreadsheet and laughs at the face they make. “Yeah. It's not glamorous, but it's the easiest way to find patterns in the EMF readings. Honestly, most of my job is just staring at things and finding patterns in them. Like, uh, what's that guy? With the butterfly splotches?"

"Worcestershire," Chris suggests.

"Rorschach," Dan corrects him, lips twitching like they aren't sure if they're allowed to laugh in Chris' face or not.

“That’s exactly what I said,” says Chris.

“You know EMF meters don’t have anything to do with ghosts, right?” Dan asks, ignoring Chris completely and leaning a bit closer to Phil to get a better look at his laptop. “I mean, none of this has anything to do with ghosts, really, but you’re more or less just measuring electricity.”

Phil is aware of that. He wonders if Dan thinks he just stumbles into haunted houses with equipment he hasn’t researched and waits to be spooked. He’s too distracted by how close Dan is and how good they smell to work up to proper offense, though. “Yeah,” he says simply. “But don’t you think it’s weird that the place still has electricity to begin with? Who’s paying for that?”

“A Wilkins, I’d imagine.”

“But why? If they’ve forgotten about the property or abandoned it on purpose, surely they wouldn’t still pay the bills.”

“Maybe they don’t handle their own finances,” Dan suggests. “How rich were these assholes?”

“I honestly don’t know,” says Phil. He taps his fingers in an erratic pattern on the edge of his laptop, trying to spark something in his mind.

It’s almost disappointing when Dan pulls away to dig out their own sleek Macbook out of their messenger bag, but Phil is also glad for it. He can think a lot easier when the warm scent of spice and mint isn’t clogging his brain.

Dan slots into the work as easily as if a space was left for them. They’ve got dozens of tabs open already and they start to go through them, cross-referencing magic things with Sophie in quiet tones and digging deeper into the Wilkins family than Phil ever would have thought to. Every so often they tap Phil on the arm and drag him into whatever rabbithole they’ve fallen down, chatting animatedly.

Phil knows, objectively, that Dan is a fan of his and that Dan is weird about research. It’s another thing entirely to watch it happen in real time, to see Dan pull up local census PDFs from the eighties and explain why chaos magic is bullshit in the same breath.

An hour or so goes by like that, all of them working on their own things with minimal words exchanged by everybody but Dan, and then Chris shouts loud enough to make the barista jump. Nobody else is in the coffee shop right now, which is lucky, because Dan’s got a hand over their chest and Sophie has slopped tea down her front. PJ, with his headphones on, simply cracks an eye open.

“What the fuck was that about?” Phil asks, putting his own palm against his chest to feel his heart race. Dan raises their eyebrows and looks at Phil, seemingly distracted from the startling, wordless exclamation.

They don’t get a chance to say whatever they’re thinking, though, because Chris is turning his laptop to the rest of the table and grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. “I found something.”

Everybody gathers round, PJ getting up to lean over the back of Phil’s chair and Sophie getting so far into Dan’s personal space that Phil is certain they’re uncomfortable with it, and then Chris presses play upside down. It’s part of Sophie’s footage, Phil standing in the dim foyer and looking frustrated. Even without sound, Phil can tell that this is when he was arguing with Sophie about going upstairs. He squints, but he can’t see whatever it is that’s got Chris being so loud.

“What am I looking at?” PJ asks when the short clip ends, and Dan hums an agreement. Chris makes a frustrated noise like they’re being obtuse on purpose and rewinds to the beginning.

"There," Chris says, excited like he hasn't been since they got to Manchester. He taps his finger against the laptop screen. "D'you see it? D'you see the shadow?"

Now that Chris has pointed it out, Phil does see something. He moves his own laptop and notebook out of the way to pull Chris’ closer with a frown. Chris lets him do that, bouncing in his seat a little bit.

“That’s straight up a person,” Phil says slowly, tracing the outline of the shadow with the mouse. It’s behind him, in the entry to the kitchen, and it looks tall. Quite a bit taller than Phil, anyway, if he’s remembering that doorframe correctly. He decides to measure it next time they go so he isn’t going off memory. “I knew we weren’t alone in there. Like. I’m not crazy, that’s a human being.”

“That’s what I thought,” says Chris. “But press play.”

So Phil presses play. He watches the shadow stay perfectly still in the kitchen doorway until, suddenly, it’s not there anymore. He blinks, rewinds, and watches it disappear again.

Phil’s caffeinated brain is firing on all cylinders now. He grins and shoves his sleeves up to his elbows before he starts fiddling with the clip. The lighting gets played with until the shadow is more obvious and then he slows it down to 0.25 times speed to see if the shadow really just vanishes.

He presses play again. This time, with a very slow-motion Phil talking in the foreground, he sees the shadow move. It runs sideways, further into the house.

“What the fuck?” Dan breathes.

“We are not going back there without some serious protection,” PJ says, even firmer on the topic now.

“What, like sigils?” Dan asks, their pretty eyes wide even as they scoff. “You’d be better off with a fucking, like, baseball bat, mate. That doesn’t look like something that wants to be your friend.”

“I’ve got a crowbar in PJ’s trunk,” Phil says, absent-minded as he plays with the clip some more.

“Excuse me? When did you put that in my car?”

“Couple months ago.”

“Huh. How have I not noticed?”

“You’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met,” says Phil. He looks up at Chris, who’s got the same exhilarated look that Phil is sure he’s mirroring. They don’t get evidence like this very often, something so clearly there that it’s even got a skeptic’s mind racing. Phil exports the edited clip and then the original, putting them both into the Cloud and emailing them to himself. “Was this the only time you saw it?”

Chris nods, accepting his laptop back when Phil is done with it. “I’ll look through everything again, now that I know what I’m looking for and all, but I think that’s it.”

“Okay, cool.” Phil looks around at his friends and Dan, beaming. “Something weird is happening. I love it when something weird is happening.”

“I hate it when something weird is happening,” PJ says, which is a blatant lie.

“Well, we can’t go snooping around until it’s darker out, anyhow,” Sophie reminds them.

“Wait, we’re snooping?” Dan asks, their voice going up an entire octave in disbelief. “Like… you just saw that someone is there and probably not happy about people sneaking around, right? Don’t you have enough for a video already?”

“We’re spending the night,” says Phil. “It’s what we do.”

“It’s what you do,” PJ corrects him.

“Okay, yeah, you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m coming,” says PJ.

As if she can’t hear them bickering, Sophie turns to Dan with a sweet smile, her eyes twinkling with the same excitement in Chris’. They love this, just like Phil does. “What about you, Dan?” she asks. “Are you going to have a ghost sleepover with us?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Dan says, their eyes still glued to the back of Chris’ laptop like they can see the shadow through it.

“Guess you don’t have anything to be afraid of, then,” says Chris.

“Uh, axe murderers, maybe?”

“We know what we’re doing, Dan,” Phil reassures them. He reaches a hand out to pat at their arm, feeling a bit awkward about it. “But you don’t have to come with us if you’re scared.”

That makes Dan’s gaze shift. Suddenly, those brown eyes are staring right into Phil’s soul, defiant and beautiful and impossible to look away from.

“Who said I was fucking scared?”

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #quiet on widow's peak #this chapter is a little short thanks to me prioritizing my mental health BUT i am still happy with it #so i hope you like it too #even if you might think the plot is slow!

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coldflasher · 5 years ago

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Part of Femslash Week, organised by @flarrowverse-shipyard :D Femslash Week Day One: College AU Pairing: Nora West-Allen/Joslyn Jackam Rating: General Audiences TWs: Mentions of sex and alcohol

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978678

Life of The Party by coldflasher (capriciouslouis on ao3)

“Is this really all that you’re afraid of?” Joss said. “You’re scared to go to a college party because you’ve never been kissed?”

Nora nodded.

“I can fix that,” Joss said. “If you want.”

It’s Nora’s first day of college and her new roommate wants her to come to a party. Unfortunately, there are a lot of things standing in her way, and the biggest one? She’s never been kissed.

Nora sat on the bed in her new dorm room, boxes still strewn across the floor from where she hadn’t finished unpacking, and messed with the gold chain on her watch as her new roommate put the finishing touches to her make-up. She’d already done Nora’s, taking over immediately when she saw the sorry state of Nora’s make-up bag with its single tube of mascara, solitary eyeshadow palette and three neutral lip colours, turning her head this way and that with light touches to her chin as she turned her into a stranger. Looking at her new face, Nora saw someone almost unrecognisable looking back at her and wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said.

“Of course it’s a good idea,” said Joss. “I came up with it.”

She went back to blending out her contour. Nora watched their reflections in the mirror at the dresser, chewing on her lower lip.

Before leaving home, she’d asked everyone she knew for their advice about surviving the college experience. The responses she’d gotten varied in usefulness. Caitlin told her to eat well and study hard. Cisco told her to always keep Advil for hangovers. Papa Joe told her to be good and stay off the booze. Ralph gave her a knowing look and a huge heap of loose papers labelled ‘The Book of Ralph Mark 2: Ralphie’s Guide to Kicking College’s Ass. (She’d thrown that one in the trash before she left; she didn’t like the look of the stains on it.)

The best advice she’d gotten, as always, was from her parents.

“Make the most of it,” her mom told her while her dad nodded sagely from the doorway. “You only go to college once. Try new experiences – and don’t think too hard.” She tapped playfully on Nora’s forehead. “You think too much, XS. Just go with the flow.”

So that’s what she’d decided to do. Go with the flow. And apparently the flow wanted her to go to a frat party with her super-cool new roommate, a budding meteorologist with eyeliner sharp as a knife and a wicked smile that made Nora’s heart flutter. Nope. No crushing on the roommate. They would be living together for the rest of the year and she didn’t need that kind of stress in her life.

Unfortunately, her heart didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

“It’ll be fun,” Joss said. “This is what college is all about.”

“It’s supposed to be about learning.”

Joss rolled her eyes. “Then maybe you should be learning how to have a good time.”

Nora looked down at her feet. She’d tried, but when your brain moved as fast as hers did it was hard to stop yourself from envisioning the worst-case scenario.

“Anyone would think you’d never been to a party before,” Joss said, laying down her brush and turning her face this way and that to check if the contour was even.

“Of course I’ve been to a party before,” Nora said. “I just haven’t been to a college party before.”

She’d been to a few high school parties with her best friend Lia, but they’d all been sort of lame. They’d hovered in the background clutching red solo cups and watching everyone else get progressively drunker while music thudded in the background and Nora felt herself fading away. Parties had never been fun for her – they’d just made her feel invisible, like a chameleon standing there under the strobe lights.

“A party’s a party,” Joss said, standing up and tugging her dress down. It was black and sequined, the light shining off it every time she moved. Tousling her hair, she gave herself a satisfied smile in the mirror before turning her back on herself and perching on the edge of the dresser.

“Maybe you should go without me,” said Nora. She’d stay safely tucked up in bed with her Nintendo Switch while everyone else drank cheap vodka out of Listerine bottles or whatever other tricks the internet had taught them to avoid the intervention of the RAs, and when Joss tumbled in at four in the morning she’d pretend she was asleep and not lying awake thinking of what kind of college experience she could’ve had if she was someone – anyone – else.

“Not a chance,” said Joss. “Come on, what are you so afraid of?”

Nora folded her arms. “I’m not afraid,” she said defensively. “I’m just not a party person.”

“That’s the best part,” Joss said, sliding off the desk and heading over to her. “You are now. This is college; nobody knows you. You can be whoever you want.”

They both looked at their reflections: Joss, all lithe limbs and sharp smiles, confident and dazzling in her black dress; Nora beside her feeling like the ugly duckling. She’d done her make-up and put on a playsuit and still felt like a fraud – and a head shorter than Joss even in wedges.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” asked Joss.

“A whole bunch of things. I could get drunk and end up in the hospital.”

“So don’t drink,” Joss shrugged. “Or do. I’ll take care of you.”

Nora’s heart gave another little squeeze at that. “I could do something embarrassing and get caught on camera so that the whole university finds out.”

“Deeply unlikely.”

She reached into the bottomless pit of her fears and threw out another. “Some stranger could come over and hit on me.”

Joss threw back her head and laughed, silver bangles clinking on her wrists with a sound like handcuffs. “You’re scared of someone flirting with you? What’s so bad about that? If you don’t like them, you say no. If they won’t take no for an answer… pepper-spray.”

“I’m not worried about what happens if I don’t like them,” said Nora. “I’m worried about what happens if I do.”

Joss’ forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Twisting her fingers together, Nora said, “What if they try to kiss me?”

“I feel like I’m missing something here.”

“I’ve never been kissed before, okay?”

It was one of her most private secrets, one she’d only ever talked to her mom about. A few weeks before leaving for college she’d ended up with her head in her mom’s lap, crying, because what kind of loser went to college without being kissed? Her classmates were afraid to show up on campus with their virginities still intact whilst Nora hadn’t even made it to first base. Iris stroked her hair and said all the right things, told her that everyone moved at their own pace and she wouldn’t be the only one, and recounted the story of her own terrible first kiss to make Nora laugh, and she’d felt better at the time – but now she felt ashamed all over again. There was no way Joss hadn’t been kissed; she oozed charisma. Every move was so confident and self-assured. She probably wasn’t a virgin either, though Nora blushed even thinking about that.

She had half expected Joss to make fun of her, but instead her expression softened. Sitting on her bed with a creak, she reached for Nora’s hand and pulled her down to sit beside her.

“It’s so embarrassing,” Nora said.

“It’s not embarrassing.”

“It’s not like I never wanted to kiss anyone,” she said, frustrated. “I’d like to kiss lots of people. It’s just that no one’s ever wanted to kiss me back. And I’m scared that when someone does try to kiss me, I’ll be bad at it. Or I’ll freak out and spoil everything.”

“You’re a worrier, huh?” said Joss. She reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind Nora’s ear.

“I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous. You should go to the party and have fun; you don’t have to sit here and listen to my problems.”

“True, but I’m a good listener. Besides, I want you to come with me.”

Joss looked serious all of a sudden, her eyes locked on Nora’s. It made her feel strange and fluttery inside. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

“Is this really all that you’re afraid of?” she said quietly. “You’re scared to go to a college party because you’ve never been kissed?”

Nora nodded.

“I can fix that,” Joss said. “If you want.”

Her gaze flicked down to Nora’s mouth.

Nora’s brain, usually so quick to jump to conclusions, didn’t quite catch on until Joss leaned in. Glacier slow, giving her plenty of opportunities to back off or turn away – but she didn’t want to turn away. Her heart was pounding again, her eyes wide – and as Joss tilted her head, Nora instinctively closed her eyes. She felt the tip of Joss’ cold nose press against her cheek, and then her soft mouth brush against Nora’s. Just the lightest brush of lips together – and then her hand rested on the curve of Nora’s waist and she deepened the kiss, still gentle, coaxing Nora’s mouth to move with hers.

She couldn’t believe it was happening. Her head was spinning like its own solar system, but her mind had gone blank. All she could feel was Joss’ lips against hers, the hand resting on her hip and the other reaching for her hand, threading their fingers together.

It was sweet and soft and romantic. Gentle, a guiding influence that managed not to make her feel overwhelmed or embarrassed by her inexperience. A kiss that lingered.

When they parted, Nora instinctively reached up to touch her lips. They tingled underneath her touch.

Leaning back, Joss said, “Congratulations, Nora West-Allen. You’ve had your first kiss.” A moment’s hesitation. Her confidence slipped just for a second, giving her a glimpse of nervousness as she looked down for a moment and tucked her hair behind her ear. “…Was it okay?”

Nora couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It must have been infectious, because seconds later Joss had a matching grin.

“It was perfect,” she said.

#FSFFWeek20 #day one #FSFFWeek20DayOne #my fics #femslash week

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hardtoswallowtruthpills · 5 years ago

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Jenna Marbles Didn't "Do Blackface"; Here is How Cancel-Culture Broke the Internet’s Adult in the Room

On May 31, 2020 Jenna Marbles, a well known Youtuber with about 20.3 million subscribers tweeted out in regards to African American’s rights to life and the Black Lives Matter movement. Marbles stated that “This is not a political issue, this is a human rights issue.This is systematic racism and oppression at the hands of law enforcement in our country. We want justice and we want change. It shouldn't have happened once and it should never happen again.This is not a discussion”. Almost a month later, though, Jenna Marbles released a video on her Youtube channel vaguely titled “A Message”. Her subscribers would come to find when watching this video that Marbles was officially quitting YouTube over messages she had received asking her to address videos that were made in 2011 and 2012 for their “racist” content, as well as asking her to apologize. Marbles obliged, officially ‘canceling herself’ as some have said. Most of her fans are concerned about the break that Jenna Marbles is taking from the internet. Most even begging her not to leave Youtube permanently, but, there are bigger issues within this whole debacle that are being overlooked.

Mainly, how did we get to the point where the current generation (which yours truly is a part of by the way) is so sensitive, that we harassed, intimidated, and bullied potentially one of the biggest voices on Youtube for the Black Lives Matter movement off the internet for an indefinite amount of time?

Don’t worry dear reader, you probably are wondering what could have possibly caused such a thing. Well, as most media outlets will tell you, Jenna Marbles quit youtube, and in turn the internet, because of accusations of her “doing blackface”. Surface level this sounds bad, doesn't it? It almost seems like her getting driven off the internet by a vocal minority almost seems expected, but remember, this is only surface deep. There's a whole bunch of stuff under the surface that needs to be unpacked, stuff that exposes why those who went after Marbles are, to put it lightly, hypocritical, or if you want it put bluntly, full of it. All of them though, have gone too far. Dear reader, this is a prime example of how the cancel-culture we have created is toxic slacktivism that gets us nowhere, and diminishes real world issues, and inevitably has broken one of the internet adults in the room.

The video that Marbles addressed in her apology that brought on the blackface accusations was one in which she did an “impression” of Niki Minaj. Here's the thing though...she was overly tanned at the time, filming in low lighting, and was wearing a cheap, acrylic, neon pink wig. With all factors combined, it becomes clear that none of this was “blackface” as the slacktivist warriors claim, it was just really bad filming technique. At the end of the video, Marbles even claims that it was “just a joke and that she loves and respects minaj”. We see in this clip one the wig is off, that Marbles was a spray-tan junkie at the time, which was common for girls in their 20’s about a decade ago.

Marbles also went on to apologize for a rap video she did, once again about a decade ago, for an original song called “Bounce on that Dick”. The rap was about toxic masculinity and the misogyny that toxic masculinity encourages. The lyrics express how men constantly brag about penis size or their attempts to sexualize women is ingrained in society's toxic notions of sexuality and masculinity. In this video Marbles, done up as a stereotypical asian man raps "Hey Ching Chong Wing Wong, shake your King Kong ding dong,". In her apology she admits it was racist and wrong and that she has privated the video because of the hurtful stereotype it portrays. Still though, it is being used against her even after apologizing.

Marbles also goes on to mention some of the other private videos on her channel. Claiming that she herself found most of them to be expressions of the internalized misogyny she held within herself back then. All of the videos she mentions in her apology have been privatized instead of deleted, showing in a way that Marbles is not going to pretend like these things didn’t happen, but she is also actively making sure that the videos cannot offend anyone anymore.

For context, all of the videos that she discussed were around 8 to 10 years old as of this year. Meaning that in the oldest videos, Jenna Marbles would have been 22. Most 22 year olds at the time made mistakes, Jenna Marbles is not an exception to the rule, especially since the internet was becoming a vast place where anyone and everyone could express their thoughts and opinions. Sadly though, it seems this vocal minority that took it upon themselves to harass Marbles for an apology in the name of social justice think that just because she is a public figure, that at 22 she should’ve seen that in 10 years, this would come back to haunt her. The social justice slacktivists that seem to think they have done good in this world also forgot that in 2010, that was the humor of the time. Jenna was participating in humor that, back before cancel culture was really a thing, was considered harmless. She was doing impressions right along Shane Dawson’s Shanaynay, a Ghetto caricature that frequently appeared in videos on his first channel ShaneDawsonTV, or NigaHiga’s fake infomercials that would sometimes contain Ghetto or Gangster impressons and over the top asian impressions. Jenna was right there in terms of misogynistic or sexist stereotyping becoming a joke with Smosh, which compared a “Just Dance” game character to “A Skinny Ron Jeremy”, or comparing soft McDonald's fries to what the penises of men with erectile dysfunction would look like. Needless to say all of these creators couldn't see a decade into the future. It was acceptable to joke about these things back in the day in terms of Youtube culture. Since everyone in 2020 is now overly sensitive to decades old content, though, it is enough to get a creator “canceled”, even if they have shown significant improvement over those 10 years.

This vocal minority deliberately targeted Marbles, and pulled up videos from her past back up in an attempt to find something, anything problematic with her. Mind you, this is someone who’s most exciting, recent content was hydro-dipping a pair of crocs, acid washing old sweatshirts, and throwing a birthday party for her greyhound, complete with treats for the dog, and a framed picture of Jerry Sinfeld as a birthday gift. Those who contacted her about her past and demanded an apology are directly responsible for what happened. They can claim it was Jenna’s choice to leave as much as they want, but would Jenna have made this choice if she weren’t harassed and bullied to the point where she felt her very existence on Youtube was hurtful? Would she have walked away if she weren’t scared that anything she could possibly say would inevitably offend someone? Most likely, the answer here is no. Instead of educating, or politely correcting past errors in private direct messages, these people decided it was their god-given right to demand an apology for videos that were made 10 years ago. They know that these videos and mistakes don't reflect the Jenna Marbles we all knew for the past 3 years, the one that actually changed and grew from it all.

These people seem clueless that their crusade for clicks and apologies they can turn around and deny under the guise of “the creator not meaning it” are diminishing every aspect of real-life issues and movements. If this continues the way that it is, if Smosh, or NigaHiga, or Shane Dawson are next in line for the cancel-culture call out machine. If they’re next to be accused of deliberately offending people, and when they apologize being told what their intentions were by internet strangers, who’s going to be there when they need big creators to back up their cause the most? The answer is nobody, nobody with a platform will be there to support them.

These people seeking to call out and cancel big name celebrities and public figures for their “racism” are ultimately going to hurt the Black Lives Matter movement. If anyone, celebrity or everyday citizen were on the fence with their support and they saw the Jenna Marbles fiasco, do you think they would be willing to support these movements? Especially in the case of Jenna MArbles, who openly defended the group before the accusations and cancelling began? They probably would be running for the hills. When we let people get away with being toxic, we are complicit in cancel-culture, If we are calling someone out for something that happened a decade ago, if we feel the need to air out their dirty laundry, without first addressing that the ones doing the aring out may have their own dirty laundry, then we let hypocrites get away with their hypocrisy. If you honestly support the Black Lives Matter movement, you would understand that change comes through education of the self and others, through protest, through showing those in power that we will no longer stand for their oppression of the minority. What does not bring about change is liking comments that harass people for mistakes made a decade ago, by canceling anyone over these mistakes, by driving a woman away from a platform where millions could’ve heard the message that she was trying to spread because of the entitled and toxic personality that these people seem to possess. All of this is driving people away from a social justice movement that is trying to bring about change, and is silencing those who are trying to be heard. Those who participate in this kind of toxic cancel-culture, are making movements like the Black Lives Matter movement an utter joke to those who are trying to understand, or worse, those who like life the way it is, who like their privilege, and want movements like this to be undermined.

In the end, it should be believed that those who called Jenna Marbles out OWE her an apology. Your toxicity drove away a proponent to a movement that could have made a difference. You made a woman who has continually educated herself over the last decade up and leave because you refused to believe that change was possible. These participants also OWE an apology to their closest Black Lives Matter chapter, for they need to understand how much their participation has diminished the message and work of those trying to actually make a difference. Maybe after this experience, they will realize that making a change doesn't happen through cyber-bullying. Perhaps, these people who participated in the cancel-culture that drove away Jenna Marbles will realize that they haven’t done anything to better themselves until they pick up a book from a Black author, or actually take to the streets and march for what should be a basic human right. Besides, maybe marching will also give these people a long-needed lesson on how it feels to have your speech repressed, and how discouraging it is when others won’t listen to what you have to say, just like how they did not listen to all of those apologies they demanded get thrown their way.

For now though, sadly, we get to live with the ramifications of the actions of a few. As long as Jenna is off the internet, there is one less platform bringing the much needed attention to a much needed movement. So, thank you cancel-culture, you silenced someone who has grown and was using their privilege to speak up for the good of those who cannot speak for themselves by claiming they were the very thing they were speaking out against. We all hope you're proud of what you did, that you feel superior for bullying someone. Since you like to cause ramifications like this to come to be, we hope that you ride off this high for a long time, specifically so you leave the rest of those using their platforms and privilege for good alone.

#cancel culture is toxic #cancel culture is stupid #cancel culture #jenna marbles #jenna #youtube #youtuber #blacklivesmatter #blm #hard to swallow pills #truth #truthful opinion

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tumblunni · 6 years ago

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More daily acconplishment diaryness!

Finished unpacking and sorted my clothes into clean and need of washing. Dug out the old webcams i was too scared to use for years and maybe i will try em once i set up the computer again?

Cleaned all the mold out of the refridgerator even though it was GROSS AND SCARY. Woo!

Also finished about 1/3rd of washing every dish i own, which is good cos they were stacked so high i couldnt even see the sink before! I actually found a bunch of dishes i'd lost while i was cleaning up before i left last month. SO MANY FALLEN SPOONS! But i didnt have time to wash any of them so i'm sure they're glad to finally be disinfected and ready to use again. Some had gone rusty or broken and had to be thrown out tho.

Made a big A3 calendar for the next 3 months so i can try and be more structured in my life. Maybe it will work? I dunno about any sort of weekly schedule yet, gonna wait until i get more clarification on what days classes are available at the library and when i'm gonna be seeing support worker richard again and Mystery New Support Worker Who Is Replacing The Hospital Basically. Like they said i can indeed have the support without the mega supervised shared housing thing, so i'm gonna be meeting a new group of mental health recovery specialist tutors who can visit me at my own home instead of me going to the hospital full time. I'm actually kinda glad of all the horrifying lack of privacy in the hospital in one way, like i've always been terrified to invite people inside my house because of the same reasons. But now in the aftermath of EVEN MORE people up in my personal space and EVEN LESS privacy and AN EVER REVOLVING LINE OF STRANGERS who DO MEDICAL TESTS ON MY PEE, it seems a little less scary to just let the same support worker sit on my sofa every month. Im still flying on the fear of all that stuff and this seems positively pleasant in comparison! And i'm sure that feeling will wear off as i become less jittery again, but by then i'll have had some practise talking to this new support worker on my sofa and hopefully i'll be less scared in general.

Oh! And i did decide one thing about a weekly schedule! I have to go out to town at least once every weekend. Or somewhere else fun on the bus. Now im not scared of regular buses i need to train myself to be less scared of the big long one in this neighbourhood. And getting to go out and experience ACTUAL SHOPS and COOL THINGS has cheered me up so much, i cant lose that just because the bus is longer now! The first planned outing is to go to town either on my birthday or the day after, cos i get my disability benefit on my birthday and i can afford to go do some mildly small fun stuff. Shame i spent all my savings and monthly bonus on preparing for stupid hospital, like man i must have wasted 500 quid on all that? The laptop and the new suitcase and new clothes and stocking up on toiletries and soooo much preparing aaa. I still dont know whether to be mad at myself for "only" lasting three weeks or proud of myself for enduring the worst three weeks ive had since i lived in a homeless shelter. Well i got free food at the hospital so it was better in that sense, but it was somehow even more invasive and nervewracking than the homeless shelter! I'd honestly prefer the days of nothing but bread and butter. And hell we had internet there and i was allowed to bring my tv even tho it was a huuuuuuge crt thing bigger than my entire body. I still have it even tho its outdated and broken cos i simply cannot carry it back down the stairs XD

ANYWAY that has been the random progress of today! Next order of business is that tomorrow i go return all the library books from the other library, and just continue going out for walks more often even if im broke and have nothing much to do. Well at least the library has a gym in pokemon go! Also hopefully the internet repair guy will call back tomorrow. And then on friday is the B day and the having money again, so lol anyone have any suggestions on what i should do to celebrate? I dont even really know what people DO when they go out for walks, aside from.. Walk. Like whats an activity i could even do on my own, aside from cinema? And i dont think theyre still showing the incredibles 2 so there might not be anything else good to see. Sigh! And then all i've got to watch out for is the Integrated Autism Service meeting on october 17th which i know NOTHING about not even where it is or what time. Hopefully i can get more details now im back home and able to meet up with dj richard the funky support worker again. Also on november 5th i have to remember to go get my eye test. I hope maybe i can get a new colour of frames this time! And then i dunno sometime nebulous in between all that i'm gonna get a phone call from the hospital guys again to settle the last of the paperwork and introduce me to the new hospital classes support person worker mystery thingieness. Which is a little anxious, so i kinda hope it happens sooner rather than later so i can continue riding the wave of relief from being home and accomplish loads of scary things before it wears off.

...man that wave is kinda annoying tho cos now i cant sleep! Im so hyped up!!i already did so many accomplishments today and they just make me hyped up to do more!!! THE LONGEST GREATEST TUESDAY OF THE YEAR

#i conpletely forgot what tag i just said i was gonna use for my diary stuff #whups

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katherineshep · 7 years ago

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A coolest experience in a while

Have drawn out half a 30-sheeted sketchbook in one evening. How? Oh, it's a nice story to tell...

Today I've had maybe the most hardcore and in the same time exciting drawing experience I could get, not studying for an artist - I was drawing from a model. In drawing class.

First, it always seems to me that I'm missing interesting events, in recent times I need more and more bright emotions - to nourish my creative abilities, for example, and also so the unpleasant daily routine didn't ruin my mood. So when this drawing class jumped on me in Google results (because few days ago I accidentally googled affiche of interesting events in my city instead of movie affiche), I just couldn't miss the possibility, especialy when drawing of full body from a living model to have some insights on body anatomy is just super-cool for any beginner artist. So I ordered my place in the event and was in great anticipation of today's evening.

First, the place where class was held was just adorable. Kyiv has plenty of plants that have bankrupted or that were plundered bolt by bolt, so the forgotten plant buildings are sold to people who can make these walls a thing of art by making it a loft-style exhibition or conference halls, coworkings, stylish caffeteria or whatever that building will fit for. The building I came to was one of those long time ago abandoned plants, especially the first floor with its 7-meters-high ceiling (that first floor was definitely a manufactory itself and once there were machine-tools which assembled the details for ships). Brick walls and all and ventilation (and god knows what else) tubes at the ceiling were painted in white, which, along with beautiful lightbulb chaplets that lighted the hall in warm colour, made the hall very bright and cozy. There was a tiny stage at the center of the hall with chairs set around it - lots on the front side, some on the rear side. The hall was empty because I messed up the time and came too early, so I had enough time to see all the new place and even to go grab a coffee.

Then, when the time came, people began to gather. I did not expect much people at first, but when the master of the event was doing the last preparations for the class, he told me that they gather here every week for around three years now (that's when I clearly felt that I must be wandering not the right places in the Internet XD ). When the standing chairs were filled by half, I understood that at least half of people who came there today have met here pretty much - there were lots of friendly talks out there.

More people were coming. The masters of the event have brought free tea and drinks. Artists were unpacking their sketchbooks, albums, pencils, pastels, one girl had a set of Copic markers (they are daaamn expensive here so I was like "ohh there's those markers of my dream, OH MY" - not that I am experienced enough to paint with markers at the moment, but still, a person must aim for new heights or there won't be a progress). Though, the view of Promarkers which my neighbour put at the chair near her have plastered my gaze to them as well XD I've read they're very good and I was curious in actually seeing someone drawing with them, you know, as a live test and inspiration.

In few minutes all the chairs were taken, even there was need in more of them, because there was about 35 artists sitting there (good that that hall we were in had chairs to fill all the hall while the class was using about a quarter of all the space), and they were of all ages. Finally I saw the girl in a sample dress near the stage, in few seconds she took off her wear and walked up the stairs to stand on the stage in the light of floodlights.

What a model we had! First of all, I was in complete awe - she had eastern face (I mean, chinese, or japanese, or korean - I'm not good at defining precisely, no such experience). Not that it was super-rare to see a person with eastern face, but we're definitely not the country young people from Korea or Japan might dream to live in, so if we have some people with that appearance, it's either those few tourists that happened to stay here, or just Ukrainians who have one or both parent of eastern roots. Meeting a drawing model is rare, having an eastern drawing model is a jackpot.

Along with that, only a few days ago I've tried to sketch eastern faces, african faces and indian ones, as these people have slightly different facial features from our common europoid face type. I've got Shepard's father to sketch, after all, I have to know how to draw the face that gave my Shep eastern features)

The model chose a pose, and the master commanded to begin drawing.

In first two seconds it was odd to see a person completely undressed - in not an intimate athmosphere, I mean. But then the oddity was gone, as well as the thoughts of watching my neighbours' work were forgotten - I had 5 seconds (!) to make my sketch before the model changes the pose. The order was following: a bunch of five-seconds sketches, few of 10 seconds then, twenty seconds per sketch, thirty seconds. A minute (thank god!), then five, ten, fifteen. Saying sincerely, at first 5-seconds-sketching I didn't manage to even have a decent curves or something, so I decided to practice skeletons (I mean these, they help to build angles and length of limbs correctly). Ten seconds didn't give much help, the proportions of were just awful. On fifteen (or the next step was twenty?) I learned to draw skeletons faster than before and to give pretty good pose, given the scarcity of time. And - you know, this extreme warm-up is actually one of the best training of speed of drawing and fast capturing the basic points of the figure by eye. You instantly feel like your eyes become sharper, your feelings crystallize, your hand glides the paper with pencil more easy (and the best-looking drawings are those which are drawn with confidence, I usually create those in a MASSIVE inspiration flow, and when it subsides, I cannot see whether I draw right lines anymore). The more time I was given, the more detail I could add, the more I could capture with precise and even measure the model's body parts with a pencil when my eyes failed me. Then the count was is minutes, and after few poses we finally had a break - after more than an hour of fast sketching.

That was the moment when I withdrew my gaze from a model and felt... so aliiive and massively mindfucked at the same time. I walked around the hall, had some tea and had a talk with one girl in the row after me. In a row with many other things we discussed drawing instruments, and then I noticed an awesomely shadowed drawing in her album. I asked how to make such a beauty in such a short time...

She drew a messy hatching in one line with the side (!) of her hand-sharpened 6B Koh-I-Noor pencil and then wiped the drawn area with a finger, giving a bigger pressure to one side of the area and lesser to another.

There was a peeeerfect shade. And that felt like supernova exploding in my head - I knew that technique of shading, but as well as my drawing class teacher in university taught me to do separate hatches, I was usind said technique. Shading with wiping the area felt a very long and tiresome work... but hell, it only needed a very soft pencil to use that way of shading! It was so obvious! A girl explained, that my mechanical pencil is good too, but it'll need so many more hatching that it'll slow me down.

So I took one of my usually unused Koh-I-Noors from my pencil box (luckily, I've had 3B) and used it for a next sketch.

The second session had three poses of 20 minutes each. Then I saw the results of the advice of my new friend: shading with soft pencil was like +100500 boost to my shading skill. The sketch I was drawing now looked much more real than any of the previous (and by 10-minutes sketches I managed to make 2 pretty decent, but they lacked shading because I had no time to hatch them with separate lines my mechanical pencil produced).

That was the best my work in this evening. During the next pose my brain become exhausted and I was loosing an ability to see proportions and shades. But I went on - I had to.

The model took a beautiful fabric to hold with her for the last sketch. Damn, that woman was a Goddess at all, with or without a cloth, in every pose she made, in the way she looked. You know, when you start learning to draw and you sketch people, and in most perfect case - strangers in the public places, you try to absorb the details of their faces and eventually start to see a beauty in every feature, then - in combination of them. Some features can be not perfect, but they combine on a person's face in such a way that all together is truly beautiful! Then you understand how unique each of us are. Then you start to be excited with human body - all the smallest noticeable facial expressions, how the light caresses the skin, how the tiny wrinkles at the outer corner of the eye reveal a person who smiles a lot. Sometimes you not only see an emotion (joy, sadness) or the state of a person (for example, his/her anticipation or tiredness), but also the trace of experience from their life on their faces, like wrinkled forehead shows the person who is being confused a lot in his life.

And here, with a model in front of you, you notice some things - like whether the belly is flat or whether you like breasts shape - for only a moment! Let's face the truth, we are being constantly fed with beauty standards from TV and magazines so the thought of that sort may show at first. But then in like two seconds those tiny imperfections do not bother you anymore. Because you're an artist at work, you see the beauty in human body and you must pass it on, that's your purpose in this moment. Then you get to know the feeling, that whatever that body is, it really IS beautiful as a creation of life, and there can be beauty in any of model's unique features. The pesron in front of you is a masterpiece of nature even without a body of a top model, and you must respect that. You must carefully put that beauty into your drawing - not lying, not giving your figure on a sketch the features she doesn't have. When you draw a real person, you must be sincere as mush as you can, only then you give proper respect to that person's unique nature.

I've being pulling the last drawing untild the model started to TURN. Slowly, but to turn away from you - and you can't have the same pose from where you are anymore. That's when my tired brain started to guess the wrong shades and lines to finish the sketch, and I had to stop so the drawing wasn't ruined. Better it be unfinished, but beautiful sketch, than the messed up drawing.

So I got up to my feet and silently walked behind all the chairs - to have a secret look at other artists' works. Every of the artists had different style, instruments, techniques: while one made a pencil sketch, others managed to draw a full-coloured drawings. They also had very different level of profficiency, but that didn't stop any of them. On the contrary, you mustn't stop when the drawing, a hard thing actually, doesn't goes as planned at first - because every your sketch is a tiny stone in a foundation of your skill, an if you want to build something above the ground - forge yourself as an artist with a constant work.

So, after that walk, the light discomfort I, a damn beginner, felt in a hall full of drawing people finally fully subsided.

Now - I'm very tired and sleepy, because drawing, especially so fast and unusual, is a hard mental work.

But it was one of the greatest evenings since... maybe the last cosplay festival. And along with feeling exhausted, I feel very much content.

/And sorry if you see any typos. I strongly need a rest now, but I coundn't not to leave this as I, well, like to write down bright moments of life so there were nice warming posts for me to reread and recall once again./

#drawing #theartistsway #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr #katherineshepart #irl #katshep talks #positive #sketching #inspiration

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