*norm

Neil Josten saying fuck it to gender norms started as a slow burn and now my world is on fire (thanks to this x) so here, take this:

  • Allison has just finished painting Neil’s toes in Essie’s Viva Antigua
  • Now she’s painting her own Allison and Neil with matching toes, i’m cryin
  • She’s talking about Ryan Reynolds while Neil is not paying attention admiring his turquoise af toes
  • Even though he’s obsessed with the color, he continues looking through her makeup bag at all the other colors bc they’re so poppy and bold and nice
  • Neil comes across a tube of lip gloss
  • Neil holds the tube in his hand
  • Allison stops painting her nails, stops talking about Blake Lively’s baby belly
  • “Neil”
  • Allison holds her hand out, motioning for the tube
  • He hands it to her, she opens it, and he leans closer to her
  • Allison paints his lips
  • Shit Neil
  • She nods approvingly when she’s finished and goes back to painting and gabbing
  • Neil takes himself in using her full length mirror
  • Neil approves too
  • Bc his lips feel and look fantastic
  • He spends a minute rubbing his lips together because of the way they feel
  • Neil and Allison spend a few hours together because Dan and Matt are out, Nicky and Aaron are surely causing trouble somewhere, Kevin made Andrew take him to Whole Foods, and Renee is not outside skype dating with Jean and enjoying the nice SC weather
  • So unfortunately for them, the other Foxes don’t see Neil glossed ),:
  • A few weeks later, Neil joins the lady Foxes on a mall run and Allison stops in Sephora for a few lol things
  • Dan is admiring palates of eye shadow, Renee is accompanying her, and Neil is looking around in awe as most do their first time in Sephora
  • Ten minutes later, Allison bumps into Neil while he’s searching Smashbox shades
  • Of lip gloss
  • “Hold out your arm”
  • Ofc Allison knows exactly what shade goes for Neil bc she’s Allison, but swatching is part of the experience
  • Allison picks fours shades and makes perfect rectangles on his skin for comparison
  • Neil picks one and Allison is proud of this kid
  • (He picks her second favorite choice but she wants him to do what makes him happy)
  • They check out and continue shopping
  • Before they walk into Fox Tower, Allison turns to Neil in the front seat of her convertible and paints his lips in Disco Rose
  • Dan and Renee smile like proud mothers from the back seat
  • They walk in
  • The cousins, Kevin, and Matt (wtf???) are in the same dorm room when our ladies + Neil find them
  • They’ve been playing video games (maybe but not really explains Matt??)
  • Matt looks up
  • “Dude” he grins
  • The boy is internally screaming
  • The others look up at that
  • Kevin is infuriated
  • Nicky is bouncing off the walls, externally screaming (and low key jealous he hadn’t tried pulling this off yet)
  • Aaron is counting down the days until graduation
  • And Andrew
  • Andrew stands and already has a cigarette to his mouth by the time he exits the dorm room
  • Gd it Neil
  • He follows the tiny angry blonde up to the roof
  • Andrew lights his cigarette and waits until Neil is sitting to pass one to him
  • It’s very quiet
  • Andrew’s mad
  • Not because Neil is wearing lip gloss
  • But because Neil is wearing lip gloss 
  • And he is infuriating
  • Andrew waits until there’s nothing left to occupy his lips before turning to Neil
  • “Yes or no?”
  • Neil presses his lips to Andrew’s and Andrew makes a disgruntled sound
  • Not only does this biscuit of joy look fucking irresistible in his lip gloss, but his dark pink lips taste like chocolate
  • So nice, so soft
  • Neil pulls away with the most god awful grin on his face and Andrew feels the percentage raise all the way in his bones
  • “247%”

anonymous asked:

It's not erasing heterosexuals to erase heteronormativity, it's just taking away the emphasis on heterosexuality so all sexualities will be represented.

Yes, exactly! Heteronormativity is literally behaving as though ‘straight’ is the norm and thus, everything else is not. That is literally exactly what it is.

@Hadley Freeman, guardian:

A fun game to kick off the weekend, ladies! Guess which year the following quotations about your dating prospects are from:

1 “As bad as things may be for a single 38-year-old woman now, it’s going to be a bloodbath when today’s single, twentysomething women turn 38.”

2 “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”

3 “Men don’t have to commit, so they pursue a short-term mating strategy… and women are forced to go along with it in order to mate at all.”

4 “Girls of gentleness and refinement do not care to be courted upon the open highway, nor in public parks, and thus the world is filling with spinsters.”

What, all from the 19th century you say? Not quite. Only numbers two and four pre-date the 21st century, coming from, respectively, Pride And Prejudice and an article in the New York Times published a century ago. Numbers one and three were published within the last year, in a British national newspaper and Vanity Fair magazine respectively. But don’t feel bad – because feeling bad causes wrinkles which will damage your marriage prospects even more.

GOD IN HEAVEN. It’s enough to make one take to cats and gin, amirite?

Certain sections of the media love few things more than an article telling women that they have doomed themselves to loneliness with their 21st-century ways. Bonus points if that article is written by a woman – preferably one too young to realise that this article has been written every five years since women were allowed to write. For all future writers of these pieces, consider this your template: the scene opens with you and your bafflingly single female friends at a glittering dinner party, or a witty picnic; talk about how women are now out-achieving men and this is why you are so much worse off in the dating game than any other woman, ever; tap-dance in some literary references; follow with a reference to an au courant issue – Tinder, say, or online porn; insist you know (of course!) there is nothing wrong with being single, while whispering out the side of your mouth that obviously everything is wrong with it. Pose for mournful photo. Press send.

Leaving aside the way these articles always depict men as such idiotic hound dogs you wonder why any woman would want one within a 50-yard radius of her, the real question is: how much longer will some women fall for this outdated narrative, when all evidence in their lives disproves it? Discussions of single women copy and paste Austen’s anachronistic depiction of the sexes – helplessly passive women versus mysteriously evasive men – without seeing her wider point, which is that dating has always been a drag, for women and men. Finding someone is hard. And yet the human race continues to perpetuate, and no amount of gender generalisations (women all want to settle down!) and biological essentialism (men need to spread their seed!) can refute that.

The truly unique thing about western women’s current situation is not how Tinder (maybe) affected their Friday night, but that they have more control over their lives than ever, choosing to start families later, if at all, to pursue their careers and their lives. Lizzy Bennet could only dream of these freedoms, but too many women waste this liberty by falling for the misogynistic line that not to be married at 30 is a crisis. Speaking as someone who was single for most of my 20s and had children at 37, to have a bit of independence and life under your belt before being subsumed into domesticity is not exactly a disaster.

© and read the rest: Hadley Freeman: single women, bag that man now! (guardian)

idk why i’ve never shared this but

Norm Lewis went to my alma mater high school. He graduated from my lil old high school in Florida. He came back for a hall of fame induction ceremony and I met him and told him how much i looked up to him and that if he could make it out of this high school to broadway, then maybe I could too

then he shook my hand and told me to never ever stop singing and he held my hand for a lil bit and we hugged like 4 times

thanks Norm Lewis now i’m really emotional thinking about how wonderful u are

anonymous asked:

I think u gotta realise that heteronormativity is something that has been apparent since the first humans?? Why is it rude to assume someone is Herero sexual, why do people take offence to that? I'm asexual and I literally don't care. I'm just asking because I'm trying to educate myself

Okay, this is the last thing I’m saying on this because it’s not that hard to do your own research. 

What is irritating, is the concept that everyone is straight unless proven otherwise. People should be met without having to have a ‘default sexuality’ in mind. This acts as though any other sexualities are outside the ‘norm.’

In advertising, almost every couple you see is straight. A lot of advertising features couples (again, which are almost always straight) even when it’s not necessary to get an advertisement across. More than 80% of protagonists in films are heterosexual, and more often than not at some point in movies or television shows will end up in a heterosexual relationship (even in movies where it wasn’t necessary to the plot, or even without a lot of backstory, reasoning, etc). When people see characters, they’re typically assumed again ‘straight unless proven otherwise.’ People will have their fucking children who are toddlers hanging out, and because one of them is a boy and one is a girl they make jokes about them getting into a relationship in the future like ???They’re fucking infants, and children. And people talk about them from day one like they are straight by default (’One day you’ll like boys,’ ‘one day he’ll be getting all the ladies!). That is heteronormativity. By making one thing ‘the norm’ you are deeming everything otherwise ‘outside the norm.’ As if anything else is abnormal, strange, undesired, or otherwise. That’s why it’s offensive, outdated, and irritating.

The bulk of western society is in the orange stage. That is why I want to create a social group that is centered around the green stage. It is the “next step” and feels like my calling. Those in the final turquoise step are leaded, but then I see as more like people who help those in the green step find their way. For example, if I started up a social group in the green level, I would want mentors in the turquoise level, but for the people in the orange level, those in the turquoise level could seem cheesy, and like insignificant fluff. It’s important to me to meet people where they are at, in a way that utilizes my ability. I think i am best for bringing the orange level to green. What about you all?

The Two Sides of a Capricorn

Flip flopping from playing by the structured rules of social norms to being completely reckless is a common trait seen in Capricorns. They know how to play, and in any environment they are extremely adaptable to any guidelines assigned to themselves. Whatever clique they are brought into, they ultimately conform to, but constantly improve the ways of their society. For sure, they are natural born leaders. They conquer unmapped or undiscovered territory, they pick dare over truth. Constantly they feed their lively rebellious spirit as well as their ego, which can often go completely hand in hand. They impress others through this method and get control, and seemingly power as well. Outside of your comfort zone is where the magic happens, Capricorn.

Fire light danced on their laughing faces, sound of one lackadaisically strumming on a guitar, no particular song just lovely noise to accompany the glorious tempestuous noise of happy voices and laughter.  The fire springing from its embers resting in an iron grate in the middle of the paddock warming, lighting and roasting marshmallows.  Smoke swirling up to the stars that are slowly starting to poke out in the dark heavens. Cigars in their hands. The man strumming the guitar, relaxed in his wooden chair, his shoulders hugged by a black t shirt, reaching over with his fingering hand occasionally to tap the ash from the hot tip, the knee of his khaki pants raises and falls as he keeps beat. The funny one making the others laugh, his motions exaggerated, almost ridiculously, his story audacious. His dress and manners just a touch beyond the norm, t shirt and jeans but his plaid over shirt extreme in color. One with glasses over wide blue eyes seemingly presiding like a king over the others, his easy good nature keeping everyone’s moods light.  Corduroy and leather jacket actually nondescript, relaxed as the man was in being exactly who he was.  He slowly swills his sweet wine letting the flavour mingle with the smoke, the warm fuzzy feeling lending to the camaraderie. Finally, the contrarian, the tall one, standing back watching everyone else, long legs in dark jeans and chambray, the neck of his undershirt peeking out at his collar, laughing and conversing, but mostly just watching the motions and comings and goings of all there.  There were flurries of activity all around, small groups laughing, but my eye just dragged back to that one group in the middle.

I smiled, watching from the door.  Mom gave me that one piece of advice that Jackie O said, “when you are nervous entering a room, always enter as though you are looking for someone.  Head up, shoulders back and smile.”  Always a great piece of advice.  I adjusted my red gauzy sundress and stepped out of the door, the layered skirt billowed on the light breeze.  I felt rather pretty as the dress matched my favourite lipstick, the only makeup I own and the light strappy sandals didn’t eat into my feet, the vivid red laquer on my toes seemed to move more gracefully than my typical walk. There was a burst of laughter that seemed to travel over the whole yard.  God, I am such an introvert, I flinched at the laughter, but kept walking.  I felt the crowd sucking the energy from my skin in seconds.  My friend grabbed my hand pulling me over to a small group, pushing a round glass of red wine into my hand.  I listened with less than half an ear as the group chattered.  I felt the soft brush, my skin warmed.  I slowly disengaged from that group, my friend shooting me one of those “Gah, I can’t believe you.” Looks, I smiled apologetically, but rolled my eyes the second she looked away.  Again a soft brush this one slower. I looked up surveying the crowd

I willed my eyes not to be drawn to that small group of men, that brush, this one felt longer more intense, I let my eyes wander and what I saw stilled my breath in my throat, my skin prickled and blushed.  His dark furrowed brow shading his eyes, his head tilted down, the wide long cigar hanging from his mouth, as a billow of smoke came from his nostrils. His dark hair smoothed back, a single lock escaping hanging to his beautiful forehead.  He was beautiful, as darkly handsome as Lucifer himself.  He stood tall and proud, his legs long covered in dark dark denim, spaced perfectly with those mile-wide shoulders, his face a mask of feigned cavalier nonchalance.  Our eyes locked over the distance, his lips curved into a devilishly sly smile as his long elegant strong fingers pulled the stogie from his mouth and he breathed out a plume of smoke that encompassed his face.  He held his cigar in his hand taking a long drink of red wine and talked absently to the man to his left, the one with the wide blue eyes.  He blinked slowly feigning to listen to the response of the blue eyed man his taking on a very mischievous green tint.  He lowered his chin nearly to his chest and using simply his assessing gaze, starting at my ankles he let them trace along every curve and dip all the way up from my red sandaled toes to my bare and proudly just shaved leg, to the hem of the gauzy skirt that rustled in the breeze.  I blushed to a matching red as I felt his gaze caress higher and higher, along the line of my waist.  Like soft cool fingertips I felt his eyes move across the lower than I usually wear neck line stopping as if to drop mementos of appreciation at small intervals.

Finally, his eyes met mine again and he smiled, oh, he smiled a smile that disarmed my every defense.  He raised that cigar to his lips. I watched that graceful hand arch down and hang at his side as he took a long breath of smoke.  I could smell the particular spicy smell of the tobacco from here. Generally, a smell that I found completely revolting held a hint of mellow vanilla, spicy cinnamon, I closed my eyes breathing it in. It was delicious. He mumbled something around the cigar and nodded in my direction.  The blue eyed man stood, looked and shook his head.  Lucifer brought that hand to move that cigar letting out another plume of smoke that hung thick in the air.

His commanding presence ate up my field of vision, I wished I knew how to flirt or anything, but I stood there staring, sipping my wine my brain nearly completely numb. His lovely red tongue slid along his bottom lip, he never broke eye contact, he shook the blue eyed mans hand. I panicked as his one long booted foot took a step in my direction, then a second and a third.  His shoulders covered in chambray moved to counter his hips as he walked… no this wasn’t a walk, it wasn’t an amble or a sashay or a canter, there was no swagger to the steps, but he walked deliciously, steadily, with intention to me. I wanted to run, to hide, because I knew he was the big bad wolf and I was nothing but a fluffy tailed prey in those capable hands. My feet remained concreted in place, but I forced them to turn, slowly, and walk to the edge railing of the deck. Looking out over the soft green of the hill and the brilliant amber red of the myrtle trees, surrounded by the taller darker green of the Pecan and oaks.  

I took the last of my wine in one last long drink steadying myself.  I rested a shaky hand on the rail.  I smelled the smooth vanilla and spicy cinnamon on the strong tobacco just a short moment before a hand moved slowly to cover mine.  The muscles of his arm playing lightly under his skin.  I watched his long strong fingers and their light caressing touch play across the back of my hand. Then those wide knuckles slowly softly fitting between my digits, usurping mine, sweetly touching and holding my hand tightly.  The small movements of the tendons of his hand, movements hardly noticeable though I felt each end result, small movements caressing reassuring and holding my hand, all the while his thumb caressed the underside of my wrist breaking down every defense…I looked into his face as he pulled my hand placing it over his heart.  His green eyes held mine in a fantastic gaze, setting my soul ablaze. Not a word was said, but his touch, his gaze speaking volumes, my hungry skin eating up this fantastic attention. His fingers curving tracing my palm, light callouses sending trills along my nerve endings, setting my whole body trembling.  My eyes watching his delicious movement, the sight of that tendon between his wrist and thumb making a beautiful hollow in his skin, the hollow begging to be kissed.

@peonies-and-poppies @fortunatelyclevercandy Damn you @littletesla  this was your fault.

anonymous asked:

Once you disagree with the Bible. Proceeds to quote one book from the Bible. Proceeds to quote a book written a half century or more after Mark. Again, read Mark, son. You're a young, misled, probably American Christian. In the UK, Trinitarianism is not the norm. It is seen as what it is: a heresy. Christ is not and never claimed to be God. The Father is greater than he is. Adoptionism makes Christ the archetype who was adopted, as we are, by God. Theology 101 here across the pond.

More directly, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not highlighted at all! You’re imposing your theology onto the text. Where is Jesus equated with God in Luke-Acts? He simply is not. This claim first shows up in John. Mark takes priority. He never made such claims in Mark. I’m not divorcing John from the canon. I’m giving John less priority as it disagrees prominently with Markian theology.

The prayer is lifted up to Jesus because he is the mediator who intercedes on our behalf. He is not God. If God Himself, a mediator wouldn’t be necessary. Jesus was begotten by God because he was the promised Messiah. Your theology is so screwed up, son.

I’ve quoted from at least 6 books of the NT in this discourse, 4 of which you called heretical. I also quoted from 3 books of the the NT in my last response all three were synoptic. It was you who said that the synoptics have priority… I’m humoring you by limiting my response to the synoptics. I’m not sure you even read my response because I argued from Mark. You should read it. Like I said, there is a reason that Mark is bookended by confessions of Christ as the “Son of God.” The very first verse starts with “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” and his crucifixion climaxes with the confession of the Roman centurion that “Truly this man was the Son of God!” in 15:39. In between we see various confessions of Christ as the “Son of Man” which is in fulfillment of the prophecy in Daniel 7:13-14. The whole point that Mark is making is that the Messianic Son of Man in Daniel 7 is none other than the Son of God. i.e. Christ is both Son of Man and Son of God… both God and Man. The whole of Mark’s Gospel is an argument for the hypostatic union of the human and divine natures of Christ in one person. Mark is a case for a divine Christology. Read it again son. 

By the way, I have one dear friend who was born and raised in Wales and another who was born and raised in Nottingham. They only came here for school and are going back to the UK once they graduate. They both said they had no idea what you are talking about when you say “In the UK, Trinitarianism is not the norm.” Not that I needed them to tell me you’re full of crap… I already knew that. 

Now you say that the three persons of the Trinity aren’t highlighted in Acts 7:55 and yet that verse reads… “But being full of the Holy Spirit, he gazed intently into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God.” All three are present. That is no mistake and it is no coincidence. 

You say now that you are merely giving John “less priority” but before you called John’s theology outright heresy.

The whole concept of mediator between God and man only makes sense if he is both God and man. If he is merely man then we are in no better place than we were before. 

Btw. You can keep calling me “son” if you want, but just know that it’s really disrespectful and you’re actually just embarrassing yourself each time you do it.

Tough day

Today is my birthday and has been the norm the last few years, it leaves me feeling very melancholy. It’s not so much the getting older but the state of my life.  
I am by nature an introvert.  I always felt awkward and uncomfortable in social situations and felt most myself with a very small group of friends or by myself.  That is until I discovered alcohol.  Vodka to be specific.  I had my first drink at 22 and it changed my life.  I became social.  I became popular.  I was outgoing, funny and always up for fun. I was the life of the party and party I did.  Bet you can see where this is going.  Eventually I turned into a drunk. (I prefer drunk to alcoholic but it’s too long of a story to explain why).  I never drank until after 6pm but I drank pretty much every night and drank too much.  Not that I thought I was drinking too much. I didn’t think it was a problem. I got a DWI and still didn’t think it was a problem.  Not until the depression hit.  And hit and hit and hit.  I would wake up in the afternoon, after drinking most of the night, and start to cry because I was alive.  Because I had to face another day of pain like no pain I had ever known before.  A pain in my soul.  I couldn’t imagine  a day coming that would be without this pain. Dying seemed to be the only way to stop the pain.  But obviously,  I didn’t die.  I stopped drinking. I found a good therapist (eventually) and I got on antidepressants.  Slowly I started feeling better.  
But all of that isn’t what makes me melancholy.  What does is that I found I had lost all my friends.  I lost some because of my drinking.  I lost some because people found it impossible to be around me when I was depressed.  I understand that.  I didn’t want to be around me either.  I lost some because I had stopped going out and seeing people.  All I had done was sit at home and drink and cry.  So I started trying to rejoin life, spend time with people again.  But now, without the alcohol, I wasn’t social anymore.  I wasn’t outgoing anymore.  People didn’t enjoy my company anymore. I know this because one of closest friends encouraged me to start drinking again because as she said “you’re not fun anymore” .  It was hard being the only sober one in a room full of drunk people.  Not because I was tempted to drink.  Surprisingly I wasn’t.  It was just very lonely and honestly very boring.  And all of the social gatherings revolved around drinking.  That’s all anybody wanted to do.  Go to the movies?  Got to meet for drinks before and then drinks after.  Throw lots of parties with lots of drinking.  So I began retreating again and spending a lot of time alone.  I enjoy time alone and rarely feel lonely.  I mostly only feel lonely when I’m around other people.  Or on my birthday when no one celebrates the day I was born.  
I see now I lost my friends because I was never who my friends thought I was.  They became friends with me when I was drinking.  That person wasn’t ever really me.  In a way I broke the social contract we had between us.  I pretended, not deliberately but through vodka, to be someone I wasn’t.  But I can’t be that person again.  I won’t, I refuse. I would rather be alone than be that person again. Most of the time I’m very content with who I am and my life.  Today is harder.  Today is a lonely day. Tomorrow will be better.