is this considered pale

Color Reference Guide to Recognize & Avoid Whitewashing

I’ve made a tutorial on how to color adjust to fix washed out coloringsbut I noticed people aren’t always sure when their coloring needs fixing in the first place. So I’ve made a bunch of colorings you can use to compare your own to. It’s designed to help avoid whitewashing, but also help avoid over-correction.

If you’re not a content creator, you can also use this guide for reblogging as well. :)

Using the Guide

  • Each set comes in three: cool, neutral, and warm. If your coloring is bluer/whiter than the cool tone, consider readjusting.
  • Examples of what might be too pale/bright are beneath each set
  • There are various categories (daytime, night scenes, etc) for each type of scene you might encounter
  • Each coloring has a color palette beneath for the highlights, midtones, and shadows of the character’s face. If you’re having trouble eyeballing it, use the eyedropper tool to double check.

1) For the sake of simplicity, I’ve used one character per category, but characters of color are not interchangeable. Identify the skin tone for the character you’re coloring and work with that. This is only meant to give a frame of reference for what is and isn’t whitewashing

2) If any of the colorings look different than what they’ve been stated as (i.e. the cool tones look too warm or some look way too dark to be visible) calibrate your monitor. It means your screen color and gamma needs readjustment.

Guide itself is under the read more!

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I Don’t Laugh

Prinxiety - [Prince (Fanciful Side) x Anxiety]

Summary: Anxiety claims he never laughs. [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]

I love feedback! Critique is greatly appreciated!


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Request from @crystalbaby12 for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#13 - “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

#88 - “After everything…I’d still choose you.” - A/N - I left this one out as I didn’t know how to put it in. Hope that’s okay!

Originally posted by psicomana

“I can’t believe this shit.” you curse, pulling at the restraints on your wrist. Swearing loudly, you kick over a stool near your feet, the wooden chair smacking against the floor. You listen, waiting to see if your detainers come to see what the noise is about, but everything remains silent.

“I’m gonna rip his fucking heart out as soon as we get out of here.” Jax snarls from behind you, his back pressed up against the opposite side of the pillar. Even though you can’t see his face, you know his forehead is scrunched up in anger, the way it always does.

“If we get out of here.” you correct him, resting your head against the immovable post. “I dunno about you, but it looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Now ain’t the time to talk smart.” he snaps, referring to your sarcastic tone. You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance yet keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Minutes later, Jax sighs loudly, the silence broken by his now softened voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” you reply quietly, not knowing how much longer you’re going to be able to last, your back stiff and stomach rumbling from being kept hostage for well over a day now. “You think they know where we are?”

“I dunno, but we better hope they do.” You close your eyes, his response truthful yet lacking the hope you’re aching to hear. “Unless the club can somehow come up with half a mil in two days, we’re fucked.”

“Wow, great pep talk. I can see why they chose you for president.” you say, rolling your eyes. Jax brushes his hands up against your own, his restraints stopping him from holding your hand in his own.

“I’m gonna get you out of this, (Y/N).” he replies, determination in his tone. Tears prick at your eyes, heart heavy with panic, body heavy with fatigue. “I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

“Bang up job you’re doing.” you sniff, your nose tingling as your vision turns misty, defeated tears falling down your cheeks. “I forgot, only you’re allowed to hurt me, yeah?”

You know it’s a low blow, the past between you and Jax still raw even though it’s been a good six months since you found out he was sleeping with Colette behind your back.

“You really wanna do this now?” he questions, his voice surprisingly calm, as if he knows you’re on the edge.

“What better time, Jax?” Your voice cracks as you say his name, frustration thick in your veins as you try to hold yourself together. “Might not get the chance after he slits our throats.”

“Jesus Christ!” He tugs at his restraints mercilessly, the pain in your voice like nails on a chalkboard, his skin crawling with red hot fury. You flinch as he shouts, more tears escaping from your eyes.

He remains silent for what feels like forever, the tension level high as you try to face the fact that you might not make it out of here alive.

Your head pounds as you cry silently, unable to bear the thought of never seeing your family again, or never seeing the club again.

“I argued with Tig before we got picked up.“ you start, your throat thick with emotion, the lump refusing to budge no matter how many times you swallow. “What if he blames himself?”

“Fucking stop it, (Y/N).” he warns, defiance in his words. “We’re not gonna die here.”

“How can you be so sure?” you argue, your bubble of hope completely deflated, your mind screaming at you to be realistic. “We live in the life, Jax. This sort of shit happens all the time.”

“Not to us, alright? This isn’t how it’s gonna end for you, (Y/N).“ Shaking your head, you wish his words could cut through the negativity in your brain. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.”

“Okay.” you agree falsely, tired of the same empty promises.

You feel yourself being shaken awake, the throbbing in your skull the first thing you feel once you begin to stir. Blurry vision focuses on Jax, a worried expression on his face as he studies you. “Shit, I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“What happened?” you ask groggily, your throat dry due to the lack of fluids. Taking in your surroundings, your eyes widen in horror as you spot the bleeding body near the door. “Oh my god.”

“Hey.” he calls, his cold hands cradling your face as he tries to direct your attention back to him. “It had to be done. Once I cut loose, it was either me or him.”

You know it’s true, though it doesn’t make it any less horrifying. Nodding, you try to blink away the black spots dotting your vision, cold sweats creeping up your body as you try to remain calm.

“Jax, I don’t feel right.” you complain, nausea sweeping over you in waves. Jax presses the back of his hand to your forehead, his icy touch bringing you temporarily relief. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

You can barely hear him talk, his words muffled as a loud piercing sounds in your ears, beads of perspiration dripping from your neck down to your back. No matter how much you try to fight it, you feel yourself slump to the side, reality slipping from you as you lose consciousness.

The unmistakeable fumes of disinfectant fill your nostrils as your eyes flutter open, a white ceiling greeting you as you do so. A hiss escapes from your lips as you shift, the hefty needle hanging out of your arm being the cause. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

You turn your head to the side, a smile slipping onto your lips at the sight of Gemma. “Gem.”

“I’m so glad you’re alright, sweetheart.” she mumurs, standing to place a loving kiss upon your forehead. The simple gesture brings tears to your eyes, relief flooding though you at the realisation that you’re back where you belong.

“Where’s Jax? Is he okay?” you ask, a million and one questions sitting on the end of your tongue. Gemma smiles knowingly, before nodding, a heavy breath leaving your lips.

“He’s been worried sick.” she says, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll send him in.”

A minute or so later, Jax slips into the room, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes look tired, though they spark once they land on you, his skin looking a little less pale. “How you feeling?”

“Alright, considering.” you respond quietly, pushing yourself to sit up as Jax sits on the side of your bed. “How long have I been out?”

“Couple hours. You scared the shit out of me.” he admits, running his fingers over his beard. You reach up bravely, taking his hand within your own, squeezing lightly.

“Thank you for keeping your promise.” He’s taken aback by your actions, not expecting you to greet him with such warmth. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to.” he says, his eyes flickering to your lips before he clears his throat, pulling away. Leaning down, he places his lips upon your forehead, lingering for a few seconds. “I’ll leave you to rest.“

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from exiting. “Will you come back later?”

“You want me to?” You nod shyly, unsure where you stand with him. He raises his brow in surprise, before a small smirk appears on his face. “Then I’ll see you later.”

“Alright.” you reply lamely, a hopeful flutter in your chest that maybe you can work past the hurt, and maybe there is a silver lining to this situation after all.

A/N - Ahhhhh I’m really not sure how I feel about the ending of this but hopefully you guys like it! Thank you for being so patient, and thank you for reading❤ let me know what you think!!

keelan-666  asked:

Reading Percys camp report makes me wonder if other campers are kind of scared of Percy being on the archery range considering he has apparently shot other campers by accident.

Ariana went pale, mouth dropping into a frown halfway through a sentence. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Zach spun around sharply, searching for the cause of her distress. “What’s up?”

“It’s -”

“Hey, guys!” Percy Jackson stopped in front of them, quiver over his back and tenuous smile on his face. “You ready for some archery practice?”

Zach unintentionally took a step back, and Percy’s face fell. “Oh, hey, Perce. You’re, uh, you’re doing archery this morning? With us?”

Percy nodded, fiddling with the edge of the bow he was holding. “Yeah, Chiron said I should get some extra practice in, so…”

“Oh,” Ariana said. “Great.”

“Yeah…” Percy’s eyes darted to the side, and he raised a hand in a wave to someone over Ariana’s shoulder. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go say hi to Will.”

“No problems, man. Good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

As soon as Percy was out of ear shot, Ariana leant over and said, “At least Will’s nearby for when he shoots someone.”

“Let’s go up the other end just in case.”

“That didn’t help Ben,” Ariana countered.

“Yeah, well.” Zach started walking towards the other end anyway. “At least it’s closer to the infirmary.”

Imagine: Anakin getting flustered when he sees you

For @holy-chloe… Enjoy! I also made up a name for the reader, I hope that’s okay. The reader is also female.

“The two Jedi sent to protect you are here, m’lady.” One of your handmaidens said, dipping your head towards you and clasping her hands together. 

You smiled. “Thank you, Ditora.” 

The handmaiden looked up in surprise for a moment, as if shocked that you knew her name. She dismissed herself a second later, looking flustered as she joined with the other handmaidens.

Just then, the door to your bedroom opened and in stepped two men, one adorned in beige robes and the other, who was much younger, in black robes. Their eyes widened when they saw you approaching. 

“Princess Annix, it’s an honor.” Said the older one, dipping his head towards you. His golden fair hair fell over his forehead. “Obi Wan Kenobi at your service. This is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker.” 

Anakin, who looked incredibly pale, gave you a tiny smile and bowed, bending rigidly towards you. 

You bit back a laugh. 

“Please, you don’t have to do all of that. Bowing, I mean. I hardly consider myself royalty.” 

Anakin nodded quickly, his pale cheeks flushing red. 

“Sorry.” He muttered, staring at his shoes. 

Obi Wan caught your eye and smiled before leaning over to whisper something in his padawan’s ear. You turned around and got to work folding a few towels on your bed under the disapproving glances of your handmaidens. You couldn’t blame them. They were supposed to do all of the work for you, like straightening your bedsheets and collecting every bit of dust that formed on any surface in your bedroom, much to your dislike. You felt bad for the handmaidens, you truly did. 

“Anyways,” You chirped, looking back at the Jedi, “Where are you guys coming from again?” 

Obi Wan stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Coruscant, m’lady. The Jedi Temple.” 

You smiled, turning around and sitting on the edge of your bed. Anakin stood slightly behind his mentor, his eyes following you. 

“What’s it like? The Jedi Temple, I mean.” You asked. You had always wanted to go to Coruscant but since you were under the strict and watchful eyes of your parents, you were barely allowed out of the palace that you all lived in. It was quite a boring palace. Yes, it was incredibly beautiful and massive, with numerous rooms and gorgeous paints and priceless gifts from other planets. But when you’ve looked at all of that for the past eighteen every single day, it grows dull and boring. You had almost memorized the intricate patterns carved into the walls. 

This time Anakin spoke up. 

“W-well, the Temple is much like this palace. It’s massive and gorgeous, with c-countless rooms a-and several libraries and multitudes of people milling around it a-and, know that I think of it, the Temple is nothing like this palace. No offense.” He finished with a nervous laugh, his face reddening again. 

You smiled, studying the young man. He was about your age, maybe a little older. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so strangely, but yet again, you had only just met him. Maybe he was awkward around everyone.

Obi Wan looked slightly embarrassed with his padawan’s behavior and you saw him mutter something out of the corner of his mouth, but you quickly averted your gaze. Your handmaidens were giggling behind you as they folded towels but you snapped your hand up to silence them, something you had ever done before. The giggling ceased instantly. 

“How long will you be staying?” You asked the two Jedi, noticing how small Anakin now looked. A twinge of sympathy twisted in your chest. 

“About three weeks. Maybe even longer depending on how determined these bounty hunters are.” Obi Wan said, giving you a quick smirk. 

You leaned back on your hands. 

“Well I’ll certainly enjoy the company.” 

Batfamily x Reader - Warrior (Pt 1)


Requested: no

Song: none

Word Count: 1471


It was humid and dark outside around 3:30 am at Wayne manor, no stars shown through the thick clouds and smog. You would think that when it’s humid, the air would smell fresh and clean, but not here. The air smelled stale and compressed, like it was trying to suffocate you, but didn’t put in enough effort to actually succeed.

The house was quiet and dark, empty and silent. The halls were eerily quiet and no shadows were cast on the walls because the moon was buried deep behind the seemingly millions of layers of smoke. It was pitch black and silent, except for one room. The light in your bathroom was on and barely audible cries came out muffled through your hands as you sat on the floor next to the sink.

A razor covered in thick, red, fresh, blood sat in the sink along with all of your soul, poured out of your body with your blood, as well as your will to live, and by the bottle of pills spilled all over the floor, you already knew this, yet the house stayed silent, as if it was holding its breath, awaiting your next move.

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Headcanon: Otabek, like Victor, has a Thing for seeing his boyfriend in his clothes, and ever since Barcelona he has been quietly buying things with animal prints and cats on them and wearing them around just so that they’ll be soft and well-worn and full of his scent if he ever gets around to telling Yura how he feels. Said confession takes another two Grands Prix, impatient nudging from his fellow skaters, and a truly staggering amount of clear-in-hindsight flirting, but when they do start dating Yuri goes for those clothes first thing, unabashedly pulling them straight from Otabek’s closet into his suitcase (he doesn’t wear a single one of the shirts he brought that first visit). Otabek would congratulate himself on his foresight except that Yuri steals and wears the rest of Otabek’s clothes as well. Anything goes. Team Kazakhstan sweats, Otabek’s leather jacket, the suspenders from his last juniors free skate (“I thought we agreed those were a mistake,” Otabek says. “Nothing is a mistake on me,” Yuri replies, snapping a strap against his chest, and Otabek has to agree), pants from before Otabek’s growth spurt (so comically short on Yuri’s newly lengthened legs that they could pass for capris but so tight and form-fitting on Yuri’s ass that Beka can barely fucking breathe). Yuri would build a nest out of Beka’s clothes and sleep in it if he didn’t have the real thing to cuddle into every night; he does, sometimes, when they’re separated by competitions or obligations or training. He never apologizes for strewing the bed with half the contents of their wardrobes. Beka’s usually kissing him too hard to care.

Yuri ends up taller and thinner than Otabek, so Otabek usually doesn’t borrow things from Yuri. But he finds out that the clothes thing goes both ways when he’s picking up their bedroom and finds himself holding one of Yura’s leopard-print tops that’s always loose on him, sliding off his collarbones, exposing a pale shoulder. He rubs the silky fabric and considers. Something cotton or polyester would probably be better, have a little more give in its fabric. Or he could try one of the big, fluffy hoodies that Yuri is addicted to, curling up in them on rainy days. But he feels the sensual caress of the material and wonders…

Yuri comes home early to find Otabek in his shirt, stretched tight across his chest, shoulder muscles flexing as he pulls it down his body, a strip of tan skin flashing between the hem and the waistband of his pants. Beka freezes. 

“Um,” he says. Yuri drops his skate gear.

“I promise I didn’t tear it,” Otabek says, holding up his hands. The hemline inches back up his abdomen. “It’s just that there was just enough room to get it on and now I can’t get my arms to go back through and-”

“Shut up,” Yuri breathes and lunges

The shirt does not manage to survive. The pants do, but only just.

anonymous asked:

Albino is the new heterochromia in terms of Marysueism. Even better, heterochromic albinos! 💡

Well it kinda depends since just white hair doesn’t equal albinism.

Actual albino people don’t have red eyes usually. Everything about them is light colored because they don’t have as much melanin in their skin as an average person.

Albino people have pale skin, very light blonde hair (looks kinda white, but not quite) and usually light colored eyes (like blue)

If we’re talking anime characters, albinism isn’t really a deal breaker imo.

I find white hair aesthetically pleasing, and there’s a lot of white haired anime characters. The problem is that everyone calls them albino no matter how old they are or if they’re suffering from Marie Antoinette Syndrome. 

Let’s take Jiraiya from Naruto for example. 

Originally posted by uww

He’s in his 50s now, and people still call him an albino because of his white hair. Granted, he did have white hair in the past, but elderly characters have white hair and that doesn’t make them albino.

Now let’s take Kaneki Ken from Tokyo Ghoul. People call the white haired version of him an albino. However, he’s suffering from Marie Antoinette Syndrome

Originally posted by zerla

Kaneki used to have black hair and he had it all his life. After being tortured though, he had white hair.

Originally posted by kvnai

He’s not an albino, he just underwent so much stress that his hair turned white seemingly instantly. (I think it slowly changed in the manga, but I could be wrong)

The closest anime character that I would consider albino is Shiro from Deadman Wonderland

Originally posted by daughterofsatan

She has a very pale complexion and white hair. From what I’ve seen of the anime, I would guess her body doesn’t have as much melanin as the average human. 

Albinism in humans is a congenital disorder characterized by the complete or partial absence of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes.

The dangers of albinism is a higher risk of skin cancer and sunburns. So If you wanted a real albino character then they shouldn’t be out in the sun for too long since it’d risk them getting skin diseases.

Also heterochormia doesn’t automatically mean mary-sue either, since there’s sectoral heterochromia which isn’t as noticeable, but could still be noticeable.

As long as the creator doesn’t continuously remind people of the heterochormia, then it’s fine by me. Like some new characters that see the character with heterochormia might be like “Whoa, cool eyes” but that’s a natural response imo.

When it comes to sectoral heterochoromia, then it gets a bit different.

There was that one story that I reviewed with Lizard. Where the person’s character had green and brown sectoral heterochormia and was bullied for it. That was mary-sue since the character’s eyes looked extremely close to hazel to where nearly everyone wouldn’t notice it was sectoral unless told.

But it was a ‘quirk’ and mary sue since it made the character different and gave people a “reason” to bully the character and have the love interest “come to the rescue”

Honestly, I don’t think that heterochoromia or albinism are deal breakers in defining a mary sue. It might add to their mary-sue traits for a list of reasons, but to me, they’re not deal breakers, just personal design aesthetics.

Originally posted by kirisakichitoge

(Actual anime character from K Project)

honestly, Izuku looks JUST like a combo of Toshi and Inko, which could lead to hilarious ‘people think Toshi is Izuku’s biological dad” shenanigans

like, his hair and Toshi’s are pretty much identical. if someone didn’t know better, one could easily assume it was the exact same texture. except for the bangs, which looks like they’re from Inko.

but Izuku’s color is all Inko. green eyes, and pale skin… that’s alllll Inko.

(which, considering genetics, Izuku having dark hair/eyes makes sense since it’s a dominant gene. there’d be little chance he’d get Toshi’s blonde hair).

plus, Izuku is already several inches taller than his mom, and it doesn’t look like he’s gonna stop anytime soon, considering how young he is. people think he got his slowly growing height from Toshi.

and, while Izuku got a lot of his personality from his mom, it’s obvious he got his recklessness from his dad. not to mention his analytical mind, determination, ideals of heroism, and his quirk.

once the idea that Toshi is Izuku’s dad gets out, no one ever disbelieves it. it just makes too much sense.

however, people do start to wonder where Izuku got his freckles from, since neither Inko or All Might have them. Inko, oblivious to the speculation of her and All Might’s relationship, always replies with “Oh, he got them from his father.”

so people just assume that All Might had freckles in his youth. it’s fairly common for Americans to have freckles, after all, and Toshi has very much an American influence. some even think that he might even have freckles now, but they’re covered up with make up or it’s just hard to see given how emaciated he is.

no one ever thinks that maybe, just maybe, Izuku’s father isn’t actually All Might. it just makes too much sense, after all. 

Language Barrier

a/n: Originally based on conversations with @egggplannt and rekindled by her post.

This is also another reason why we should not be allowed to collab. 

If you have any questions about anything said by Arthur, you’d have to ask her because honestly, I have no idea. All of Arthur’s dialogues were provided by her :^)

Alfred squinted down at his map, with the paper all crumpled and folded from being shoved haphazardly into his raincoat pocket.

He had no idea where he would go next, but he supposed the people around him would judge him less if he looked like he did.

Oh, those beady British eyes. Unwanted attention seemed to follow him every wrong turn he took, to every pole he ran into while he was too busy deciphering the winding lines and tiny print of the map. England was a dangerous, hostile, and frankly judgemental place. Nothing like the comparatively warm and welcoming arms of the U.S.A he’d left behind.

“Oh jeez-”

The wind wasn’t a help. The howling horror left him with a daunting choice and It was either the map or the umbrella. He chose the umbrella. The decision tore his only piece of sanity amongst the confusion that was England from his hands and left it soaking in a puddle at his feet.

Alfred clutched his umbrella to his chest and accepted defeat.

The Formidable Country of England: 1, Foreigner: 0.

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Melanin- Rap Monster

Originally posted by myjaebutt

“Please welcome one of the most talked about groups, B-WaR!” 

You walked out in front of your members and bowed to the MC’s who welcomed you on the show. Standing uncomfortably, the MC’s interact with the rest of your members and not you. 

When introductions were over they came and stood next to you, “Hello! We’re uh.. MC’s for.. this show-ah.” 

You smiled and bowed saying hello in Korean. 

“Oh! I forgot you spoke Korean so well!” They said laughing with each other.

“Okay so, we have a serious question, do you think that the reason why you are so popular is because you’re an foreign leader?” One MC asked, cutting straight to the point. 

You cleared your throat, “Uh, I believe that our music and the way we work so well together is the reason that we are popular.” You defended. 

“Well many say the reason that you are so popular is because you are black and the fact BTS’ Rap Monster has taken an interest in you.” The other host stated.

You laughed slightly, uncomfortably, “I love being black and I happen to think that it’s an amazing thing to have a black person in a kpop group.” You defended yourself once again. 

“Don’t you get insecure though?”


He cut you off by continuing, “I mean it’s obvious that the ideal type is a pale girl, that’s what is considered beautiful.” 

You bit your tongue and looked over at your manager, he didn’t say anything so you decided that you were going to give people a piece of your mind. 

“I don’t need to be considered ‘beautiful’ to someone who contains beauty in a box. I don’t need to fit the mold that you have of someone’s “Ideal Type.” I came to Korea to prove something, that anyone can make it if you want it bad enough. So no, I’m not insecure because I know my talent. If you do not like me simply because the color of my skin then that only reflects how simple-minded you are, and simple minds have no business judging anyone, or anything, let alone music. Music is about music, not how you look. “ You finished, walking off the set and taking off the mic that was attached to your shirt, you bowed before closing the studio door. 

You walked to your car and got inside of it. Tears fell down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop it. You grabbed and lit a cigarette with your shaking hands, inhaling the smoke that relaxed you when all of your phone rang.


You smiled and sniffled, “Hello?” you answered. 

“Are you okay?” He asked and you laughed, tears threatening to fall again. 

“Do you want a lie or the truth?” You replied sarcastically, bringing the cigarette to your lips again.

“Are you smoking?” You looked at your cigarette and then at the phone. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. 

“You promised me you’d stop. You were doing so good!” Namjoon lectured.

“I’m sorry Joonie, I’m going through some shit now and this was the first thing that was there for me.”

“What about me?” He muttered under his breath but you still heard him through the phone.

“I didn’t want to bother you, people already think I’m piggy-backing off you and that I’m corrupting your mind.” Rolling your eyes you inhale another puff.

 “First, put the cigarette out.”


“Put it out Y/n!” He yelled. 

“Fine.” You smashed the cigarette in the ashtray, “Happy now?”

“Yes, now what do you mean, “corrupting your mind?” 

“They basically said the only Ideal Type and what is considered Beautiful is pale and the rumor going around that you like me is contradicting it and apparently I’m doing some type of fucking witch-craft shit if it’s true. God forbid a Korean likes someone that’s not Korean. Call the fucking president.” You ranted. 

You heard him laugh then get serious.

“You’re an artist, they should judge your art, not the way you look. That is so annoying. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” He said.

“It’s not your fault, can I come over?” You asked. 

“Chips and soda?”

“And Icecream! You can’t forget icecream!” You screamed, sniffling. 

“Okay and Icecream.  By the way, that rumor is true.” He said quickly before hanging up. 

You looked at the phone, “What rumor..?” You muttered to yourself.

It finally occurred to you what he meant and heat rushed to your cheeks. 


Your daughter and son looked at you and Namjoon.

“That’s why you can’t stick to something just because it’s normal. Find yourself. If you like something that isn’t that common don’t change just because people don’t like it either.” Namjoon said to your kids, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

 You looked at your children, “Do whatever you want to do. Don’t limit yourself because your scared of what others may say or think.”

You son came up to your and hugged your legs, “I think your beautiful mommy!” 

Your daughter followed him and held your other hand, “Yeah mommy! And you’re a really good singer oh! and dancer!” She clapped.

You giggled and kissed their heads, “Thank you babies, that means alot coming from you both.”

Namjoon cleared his throat and you looked at him. 

“You too, baby. It means alot coming from you too.” You said leaning over to give him a kiss.

anonymous asked:

"society’s definition of beautiful is based off white supremacy, misogyny, transphobia, and whatever else will make money" That's cute, but it is actually based on biology and evolution, doesn't mean we should treat people like shit, but it's a survival tactic still in the subconscious of every human, and we wouldn't be alive or at least as genetically superior as a species without it. Still, I hope people who aren't conventionally attractive like myself and many others live happy lives.

there are some things that are correlated with attractiveness like symmetry, overall appearance of health, and ability to care for offspring but by and large, beauty standards have always been classist, racist, misogynist, and transphobic.

in the victorian era it was considered beautiful to be pale and thicker, because it showed that you didn’t need to work outside in the sun and you werent starving like all the peasants. signs of wealth, inaccessible to poor people, difficult to obtain.

in a variety of places across the globe, there are dozens of skin bleaching companies that make millions off women who are pressured to lighten their skin because they are too dark. Google fair and lovely. pale skin has always been associated with status because of the above, but especially after colonialism when europeans forced their agendas across the globe. paler was considered more beautiful, because it meant one was closer to whiteness (the ideal)

shaving was never a societal expectation of women until the 1920s-ish, partially because women rarely bore their legs before that, but also because literally some asshole decided he could make a fuckton of money by marketing razors to women, telling them they should be ashamed of their body hair and that they needed to shave it off to be “clean” through aggressive marketing campaigns, and now women everywhere have to shave

yes, there are some things that people are wired to find attractive, like general health, hygeine, and symmetry. But beauty standards vary culture to culture and generation to generation, which isn’t something natural selection designed. it’s a result of the beauty industry capitalizing off the ability of the media to shape peoples view of the world. humans had been reproducing for hundreds of millenia before the razor was invented, nobody had any trouble fucking each other then, but now suddenly hairy women are “gross”. while thinness used to be a sign of poverty because it meant you couldnt afford to feed yourself, now it tends to be a sign of wealth because it means you can afford to feed yourself well.

companies make millions off exploiting these things. they deliberately market what it is impossible for most women to have because it means all the women who wont have it will buy whatever product the industry is selling them to get it. whether its a diet, a skin bleaching cream, or a lipstick, the more people dont have it, the more people will buy it.

if humans were wired to only find conventionally attractive people attractive (as opposed to a variety of humans who may or may not fit society’s current standards), then everyone who didn’t fit that description would never have children, and only the megahot people would be left. but that’s not how the world works.

none of these things are based of what we are evolutionarily wired to find attractive. defined eyebrows, long legs, whiteness, and social class are not things we are wired to view as better than bushy eyebrows, short legs, dark skin, and being poor. these are socially constructed ideals (based off misogyny, white supremacy, classism, and transphobia) that are designed to exploit as many people as possible without alienating enough people to lower their effectiveness.

it’s not all biology, and its not all culture/environment. it’s a mix of both. but recognizing what societal institutions have affected this is important.

skeletonhater143  asked:

Hey nerd. What is life

Dark did not change in appearance, his face remained like wax, or perhaps like stone, considering the pale expanse of his features. Almost ghostly white, with little resemblance of life other than the tiniest twitches of his skin. With hands delicately strewn across his table, clasping together, bounding place and finding the same lack of motion, finally a breathy tone escaped him.

“Life is the absence of death. Be sure to recall that the next time you approach me and call me ‘nerd’.”

marmotje  asked:

Hi! I'd like to ask you a question! I talked to the woman who cleans our school yesterday and we talked about clothes and everything. Suddenly she told me that green is considered an evil colour in Poland? But I couldn't understand her explanation! I asked my mum later (who was born in Silesia and a friend of hers but they didn't know anything about it. Now I'm confused and apparently I'm a bad person now, because my favourite colour is green? (Seriously, my classroom was flooded today!) Help!

(2/2) I really really hope that you can help me! (Even if it turns out it was just a joke) And thank you for your time!


Sorry for a late reply but I had to think about your ask for a little bit.

Okay, so before I start to elaborate about it, you have to know that I’m not so sure about my answer because I’ve never heard about green being an “evil colour”. So this is only my assumption. 

Firstly, we need to “divide” Polish culture into 2 parts - after christianity and before it (Slavic beliefs), because many symbols changed their meanings after the Christianisation of Poland. 

Let’s start with pre-christianity period. Then green was a colour of a new life, animals and plants, farming. It was believed that green could save people from injuries. On the other hand this was a colour of immaturity. I’m not sure about it (because there is little historical facts about images of slavic gods and deities) but I’ve read that green was be considered to be a colour of wild places (and holy at the same time) and their inhibitants like deities or demonic creatures.

After the baptism of Poland the meaning of green colour could have changed. Even so, green can’t be such an evil colour since even in the Bible (creating a world) it is a colour of life (green plants as a food for ppl and animals). But mind that there is also a description of the Apocalypse in the Bible where we’ve got “an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death”. In Polish most popular translation of the Bible the colour of this horse is “trupio blady” (deathly pale) but in some images Death sits on a green horse. The translation from can also differ - it doesn’t have to be pale, it might be also yellowish or pale green. So maybe that’s why pale green can be considered as a colour of illness, sickness or disease and death. A bright green symbolises a poison or venom. Maybe it is also about reptiles that are, let’s say, the enemies of christianity (a snake or dragon - for instance Saint George who fought a dragon, a satan in fact).

Right now green is rather a positive colour but I’m not so surprised that this Polish woman finds it negative or even evil. But once again, this is only my guess, I’m not sure if my assumptions are correct. 

Maybe some of my followers have sth to add. Also @lamus-dworski - maybe you are able to say sth more about this.

anonymous asked:

What are some examples of racism in Sense8? I am still at the beginning and for now I find the fact that everyone is talking English with an accent instead of their languages very irritating

Ok so this is by no means a complete list (I’m only 6 episodes in) but here’s a few things I’ve noticed (there’s a TL;DR under the read more). Granted some of these may be resolved by the end of the series but right now this is what bothers me.

You are completely right in noticing that everyone is talking English with an accent instead of their languages. let me elaborate on why this is annoying. If you watch with the subtitles on you’ll notice that at some points they use the subtitles to say, “in Swahili,” or “in Korean” which basically acknowledges that yes they don’t want to make their audience “work” to make out the English. That is a fundamentally ethnocentric view to take and its compounded by the fact that because the show has such a diverse cast they could have conceivably made it so it was equal in its focus in different regions.  This wouldn’t have been just a “Western hemisphere” show it would have been a show that literally spanned the world. 

Furthermore they specifically use languages other than English when the audience is meant to be confused and using the subtitles then. why is this an issue? Well think of it this way, it makes English the common language when they can actually feel each other.  Making English the default heightens the xenophobia most Americans already have towards foreign languages. For example, I’m bilingual, if Lito’s parts were all in Spanish I would have understood all the parts that were in English and Spanish. Reading the Korean, and Swahili would not have been a huge burden at all and others who are fluent in those languages would have felt more included.

Moving away from the languages bit here’s a short list of other instances of racism:

  • Where’s Caephus? Here’s the imdb screenshot

Here’s Caephus’ trailer

Admittedly this might be an oversight but I want people to complain to imdb. He’s fucking brilliant ok? And as the only man of color in the central group (I’m sorry Naveen Andrews’ Jonas doesn’t count as a central character) he deserves to be credited!

  • Lito Rodriguez is played by Miguel Angel Silvestre a Spaniard (that is a white Spanish born European) and he’s not Latinx. This is an important distinction because any Spanish born person who’s white only experiences occasional xenophobia in the US. They don’t have the added burden of being latinx. And in Latinoamerica Spanish born people have automatically been chosen to rule over the mestizos/mixed people.  Because they’re white.  
  • In colonial era Mexico being born to Spanish parents classified you as a criollo, (which is to say that there was a caste system in place that prioritized white Spaniards and their offspring over anyone else) and just for context this caste system was in place until at least my father was in school in Mexico.  So they basically cast a white European to play a Spaniard telenovela star which is by default a latinx industry basically following the white supremacist formula established when Columbus came to the “New World” white people ruling in PoC countries.  

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