#because i can deal with critique

[always-andromeda]

[synesindri]

i think that "what things will you be able to be ok with if people don't like them" and "what things will you be able to be ok with if people don't care about them" are very important questions to consider before putting yourself/your thoughts/your art/your work out there. because with some things it will be very upsetting if people ignore it or hate it, and with some things it will be kind of whatever. and sometimes sharing isn't worth the potential to be upset

[navree]

"you can't put alicent in a mother's day asoiaf comp because she's not a good mother and that's okay :)" but you have no problem with cersei fucking lannister in it when half her affc chapters are just about how abysmally she fails as a mother to her children so i think you're just a cunt

[em-dashes]

now that suddence is out to betas i'm oscillating between getting more and more self conscious and overthinking about everything that might be wrong with the story vs. knowing that is literally THE POINT of betas and i can't in good conscience let my story slide out into the world with a bunch of faults i didn't catch simply because i was too close to it

[onsomeplanet]

like the issue with taylor swift isn't some unique thing to do with her it's just the fact she exists with that much money in the first place and belongs to that class that she does. like it's not the same level of evil as corporate heads that got that level of rich of exploitation because she's a lucked out cultural headpiece celebrity but like. that doesn't mean she is not hoarding money and resources and that she is furthering harm that people in the class she is in do. criticism of taylor swift should be based in criticism of where she exists in society. not oh I hate her because *insert another innocuous ridiculous thing no one would ever point out if she weren't taylor swift*

[anakinh]

thought prompted by a caption on a gifset: ff7 remake aerith gainsborough saying stuff like “shinra isn’t the real enemy” and “the turks aren’t bad people”, while technically kinda true, is very much something a billion dollar company making NFTs and blockchain games would say and i fucking hate it

[shay-creates]

Apparently, my decision to be silly and make fanart of someone's writing (because I genuinely enjoy the story the person is writing and I was struck with inspiration upon reading a particular scene) has benevolent and wildly unforeseen consequences.

I apparently gained a bit of control of the canon because said writer really loved the art and decided what I drew/draw is canon.

2. Writer put said artwork into the document of his story right below the scene, so now it's IN the story where people who read the story will see it (with a link to me)

3. He sent the artwork to all his friends and people he knows because he was so excited

Wholesome interaction and I watched him do all that in real time, good stuff. However...there are two more consequences I was notified of today...nearly a full week after I gave the artwork.

Seeing the artwork caused his friends to become interested in reading and hearing about his story, which means more people are reading what he's writing and giving him critique on the story (which he actively asks for).

Apparently, upon seeing the art, his writer friends got a sudden second wind to pick back up writing they'd abandoned for a few months. Because, I quote, "seeing that someone enjoyed {his} writing enough to take the time to make art of it gave them the motivation that maybe THEY can write something that will inspire someone to also create something." I have accidentally caused a writing frenzy among his writer friends and my silly idea to make art for someone has had a butterfly effect for people who I don't even know.

Uhh...I'm pretty sure there's a moral here but I am tired and have a great deal of emotions about this.

[theonlythingimfuckingisstupid]

i inherited my dad’s critiquing food even when i ddint make it but i also had to adapt to a world i didnt know how to navigate and know that it hurts peoples feelings when i say that what they cooked could be better. i also forget this until just after i say my critique. but i am also a quick thinker and can come up with something even better than the thing that could be improved upon. my dad has none of this becasue hes spent a lifetime cultivating a personality that very few people can get along with and the ones that do have to ignore a lot of stuff to still get along with him. do you get it yet?

[theliteraryarchitect]

A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing

In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.

If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.

Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.

Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”

A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.

Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.

There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

So what to do?

First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.

Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.

Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.

Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.

Hope this helps!

[txttletale]

sorry if you have answered a question like this before, but what do you think of critiques from liberals/other leftists whether they be calling themselves socialist, communist, or anarchist, on the "disastrous/genocidal" effect of a "glorious revolution" on populations like children, the elderly, and the disabled? would any revolutionary action necessitate destruction of infrastructure? what kind of conversations are being had among communists about protecting these vulnerable populations? i see a lot of stuff about not wanting to watch kids die in hospitals just for a power vacuum that could go the wrong way and stuff like that and i agree with wanting to protect these populations especially, but something about the conversation in general seems off to me, since kids are already dying all over the world because of the lack of access to healthcare because of things like usimperialism or the insane costs even for people living in the us and the supply chain is already showing many cracks because of climate change and capitalism, with no global "violent revolution" to speak of. am i missing something crucial here? what can i say to my fellow disabled friends who have these concerns, partially born from dealing with ableism in leftist spaces? -- thank you, a baby communist

i mean first of all yes, it is disingenuous to pretend that the most vulnerable people are not dying constantly under capitalism. secondly, revolutions do not usually involve blowing up hospitals and care homes for no reason.

but most crucially of all this entire argument relies on a childish view of revolution inspired by the most tedious reactionary propaganda--an understanding gained from shen yun and anastasia. communist revolutions (like any revolution!) don't happen in times of unremarkable peace and prosperity--they necessarily happen in times of mass discontent and instability, because that's when large segments of the population become radicalised!

genuinely, the best antidote to all these silly liberal ideas about revolution is to read about the history of real revolutions, socialist or otherwise. actual historical knowledge trumps mind palace hystericizing every time. i recommend walter rodney's the russian revolution: a view from the third world.

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[ot3]

I disagree with the premise that mia is a character who was Fridged in any meaningful sense of the word. Of all the misogyny in the writing you can critique ace attorney for I reaaaallly don't think mias death is because the franchise Hates Women. I think it's just pretty clearly another instance of the death of the mentor trope, and the only reason fridging is even on the table is because this instance happens to be that you have a female character who is the mentor to a male character, which is just not something that happens very frequently, and I think has a very different gendered dynamic to it than fridging implies. Like its usually The Man's Problems or Enemies that harm a woman during fridging, but mia was entirely dealing with her own shit there that phoenix knew nothing about. He just worked here. Yeah it was the inciting event for the narrative but also it's not really the source of his primary emotional conflict at all?

[erwinsvow]

“I want them to like you,” you say, tugging on Rafe’s arm to drag him away from his truck and towards the beach. “I want them to love you.” He’s standing still, feet planted firmly on the pavement. 

You’ve wanted Rafe to meet your friends for the longest time, so much so that it’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about recently. It’s not exactly accurate—he has met them before, many times, actually, but they’ve never been good encounters. You recall a bruise on Pope’s back and JJ’s busted lip, back before they knew Rafe was your boyfriend and he was just public enemy number one.

But things are better now—really, they are. You try to convince yourself all of those incidents are in the past, that everyone’s over it now. You want your friends to like your boyfriend. You want your boyfriend to like your friends. You want it so bad you’re willing to drag Rafe to the beach yourself, if that’s what it takes.

“They can’t stand me,” Rafe replies, scanning the surroundings. He doesn’t like them, but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings either, if they overhear the two of you right now. “Can’t stand them, either, y’know.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” you ask, smiling wide, all cheery and bright. Like he has to tell you again. He rolls his eyes, making you laugh.

“Not at all. What gave y’that stupid idea?” You roll your own pretty eyes in a matching response.

“C’mon, Rafe, look, they’re already here-” you whine, pointing at the giant, junky thing your Pogue friends call a car. He doesn’t let you anywhere near the thing anymore if he can help it—drops you off and picks you up because that thing is a death trap, even more so with one of the stoned idiots driving it. “I don’t wanna be late, so move-” you start pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t give you an inch. 

You huff, hot sun beating down on you, muscles tired from trying to move your entirely too strong boyfriend. 

“Fine,” you finally let out, giving up. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“Good girl. I’ll swing by to get you in a couple hours and then we can go for dinner-”

“Sounds good,” you interrupt, causing Rafe to look at you with an eyebrow raised—you never interrupt him. “I’ll just have Pope put the sunscreen on my back for me. Since you won’t be there.”

“Wait a minute-”

“And JJ’s been dying to teach me how to surf. Y’know, last time I tried though, my top fell off. But I guess it’s no big deal. I bet John B can put it back on for me.”

Rafe thinks he’s mastered the look of not caring sometimes, face blank, eyes showing nothing but mild disturbance. This is not one of those times. You smile, because you can’t help it, watching your boyfriend’s ears turn bright pink, the muscles in his jaw clench, his fist tighten around your pink beach bag.

You put your hand over his, gently, trying to take the bag so you can walk away with it. You’re not sure if your plan worked until he snatches the bag back, hand holding your wrist tightly. 

“Come on, kid,” he mutters, heading in the direction of the beach. “Pain in my ass,” you hear him say quietly, but you feel giddy that he agreed to join you after all. 

Your friends are set up by the water, towels haphazardly thrown on the sand, a case of beer resting in the shade under the umbrella. JJ is waxing his board, Pope is standing next to him, critiquing his method. John has just crushed a beer can down, and chucks it at Kie, who ducks and starts yelling about how inhumane littering is. 

“Hey!” you hear Pope beam, a smile lighting up your face. “Look who’s here-” and Kie joins in with an excited yell, tossing the empty can back at John B and hitting the back of his head. 

“Thought you’d never come back to us now that you’re a fancy Kook girl. Where’s that-” JJ goes silent, watching Rafe walking behind you, staring blankly, looking pissed. “-asshole boyfriend. Nevermind, I found him.”

“I brought Rafe,” you say, a big smile taking over again. You look expectantly at everyone, and then stare until they give you the reaction you want. They mumble hi and hey, Kook, and you turn back to Rafe, taking your bag and figuring out where to put your towels—pink, like the bag, like your bikini. Rafe’s shorts are white, with little pink stripes to match you. 

You both sit down on the sand before you finally offer him the bottle of sunscreen and lay flat on your stomach so he can put it on. He squirts some onto his hands, rubbing them together to spread it out and then first slaps your ass, leaving a sandy, white handprint on the skin. Your body jerks, whining against the towel.

“Had to. Practically asking for it. M’not apologizing,” he says, quiet enough that only the two of you can hear. His hands rub the sunscreen onto your back and arms, but then you decide everything he does is too erotic for public, so you turn back, insisting that’s enough sun protection. You just got here and you don’t want to leave because you can’t resist your boyfriend just yet.

You turn your head, noticing Kie walking towards you with a can of hard seltzer, the fruity kind she knows you prefer. The boys are by the other umbrella, tossing beers at each other. You tug on Rafe’s arm again.

“Why don’t you go get a beer with them. You can talk. It’ll be nice!” 

There’s nothing he’d rather do less. 

“Came here to hang with you, not them,” he says curtly, head resting back on the towel.

“Rafe!” The things he does for you. “Please?” He shouldn’t have looked at you—that was his mistake. Five seconds of your pout and your sincere eyes is enough to make him do whatever you want.

“Five minutes, then I’m coming back. That’s it.”

“Thank you,” you sing sweetly. Kiara comes and settles down next to you. “Is it strawberry? My favorite!” he hears you say, followed by the hiss of you opening the can, as he gets up and stalks towards your friends.

Their conversation dies when Rafe steps up—something he doesn’t like. He could care less about these idiots, but he really doesn’t want you to get caught in the middle of this shit. He can see it already—your pretty face covered in tears, crying because you care too much about him, care too much about your friends.

Rafe knows you’d pick him over them, he just doesn’t want to force you to make that choice.

“What’re you drinking?” he questions. Three pairs of eyes stare at him blankly. A retort bubbles inside him angrily—Stupid and deaf? You losers can’t catch a break, huh? He turns to look at you, hoping you’re in conversation with Kie and sipping your sugary drink. You’re not. You’re staring at the four of them with a hopeful smile.

He swallows the comment and turns with a forced, hard smile. “Beer? That’s great. Toss me one.” Pope does as he says, and then goes back to drinking his own. 

“S’like weird, to see you smile. Didn’t know you could do that,” JJ comments, crushing his own beer can up now that it was empty. Rafe wishes you were here, listening, because-

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” John B lets out a laugh at that, Pope joins in. Rafe cracks another smile, they’re pretty goofy, just like you had said. “Nah, I’m just saying, like, didn’t think you could be nice. Must be, if she likes you.”

Rafe turns to look back at you again, quickly. You’re talking to Kie now, head thrown back, laughing. You look prettiest like this, when you’re happy. 

“Yeah, for her.” Then he takes another long chug of the beer, looking back at them. “You idiots don’t make it easy.”

“It’s not easy for us, either,” Pope interjects. “I mean, you did hit me with a golf club.” Rafe runs a hand through his hair, unsure what to say, because he did do that. 

“Yeah, I, uh-” he trails off. “Sorry, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” JJ says.

“All in the past,” John B tacks on. 

It must be several beers later, because you hear the boys laughing and… getting along? You decide to walk over, just to make sure your eyes and ears aren’t deceiving you. The box they had just bought earlier today was filled with the empties, the unmistakable sound of your boyfriend’s laugh filling your ears, your friends all engaged in conversations. You decide to turn back rather than interrupt, giddiness filling your heart that everything worked out. You don’t catch the end of their conversation, already back to your towel and opening another drink with Kie.

“And then I went there,” JJ starts, “-and I was like should I leave, because then her parents might wake up, because I forgot the condom-”

JJ stops to take another sip of the beer, and Rafe cuts him off.

“Wait, you guys use condoms?” 

Three pairs of eyes turn on him.

When you two walk back to his truck a little later, he swings his arm around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“What was that for?” you ask, happy and tired.

“Yeah, I don’t think they like me much.”

[ohnoitstbskyen]

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Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!

Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.

Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.

The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?

Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.

I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.

And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.

Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Honestly at this point, I'm really uninterested in hearing any gentile's "critique" of Judaism.

Whatever it is, whatever you're about to say, I am 1000% certain that at least one Jew has already raised this issue in ways that are thoughtful and centered in respect for other Jews. Probably lots of Jews; possibly whole theological movements. It's even possible that this particular topic has been under active discussion for hundreds or even thousands of years.

Someone has already said this better than you will. Someone has already raised whatever issue you have and grounded it in their own experiences of having lived a Jewish life.

So just leave it to us. Just stop. You're not helping. At best you're white-knighting, at worst you're actively contributing to an antisemitic majority culture.

"Well I've never seen Jews discussing [x] topic!" Your ignorance is not reality. These conversations are happening, possibly offline and at our Shabbos tables or shuls only, but they are happening.

"Well [x] topic impacts me personally!" Does it? Does it really? Because unless you live in Israel or Palestine, no Jewish group - no matter how seemingly numerous we may be in your city or neighborhood - is actually powerful enough to affect large-scale (or even typically small-scale) changes. Our fundamentalism is, for better or worse, directed at other Jews. The most intense thing I've heard of outside of Israel is a community getting together to petition the city to allow an eruv or a concentrated effort to make a few neighborhood blocks particularly Jewish because they're within walking distance of an orthodox shul. All other issues - no matter how ugly the opinions - are something that is part of much larger social trends that unfortunately some Jews happen to be engaging in. We'll deal with them; you focus on your people.

"I'm just listening to ex-fundamentalist Jews and white-knighting trying to help them be heard and not shouted down!" So first of all, if you knew anything about this topic, they typically call themselves OTD (which I'm sure you know what that stands for, because you've been listening) and secondly, great! You should listen to them. But their critiques are not your critiques. I can go on all day long about my family and their bullshit, and I can even (sometimes) appreciate you chiming in supportively. But it hits different when you go off chattering to other people about how my family is bullshit.

"Okay fine - I'm taking all that in and accept that my critiques aren't wanted, but what CAN I do, since I am literally vibrating in place about how Those People Over There Are Wrong and cannot simply ignore them?" Best thing you can do? Honestly? Learn about Judaism thoroughly from a variety of people, and learn how to be a good ally against antisemitism in all the spaces you want us in. Judaism not feminist enough for you? Learn how to make your feminist spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Judaism not queer or trans enough for you? Learn how to make your queer and trans spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Whatever movement you think we're not supporting enough or not showing up for enough, or whoever it is you think we're oppressing? Find the Jews who are doing that work (they exist, I promise) and listen to what they tell you about how to make your spaces be better.

[bubbles0bop]

Hiii! Can we have some Inumaki, Hakari and Nanami bf headcanons? + Anyone you'd like OFC!! :3

Relationship headcanons with the JJK Men

Includes: Nanami, Hakari, Inumaki, Choso

I like this one, you have good taste. Anddd i did take some liberty of adding choso because i've been feeling like writing him as well

Disclaimers: strong language, no gender specified, mention of smoking

Nanami

He's the type of boyfriend that will be spoiling you goddamn rotten

every month is a new bouquet of flowers trimmed and set in a vase on the kitchen counter

same with gifts. you'll come home to see the outfit you liked at the mall but couldn't afford, probably wrapped nicely in a black box

he's very thoughtful and meticulous, especially with dates

he'll plan for a while and make sure it's something you'll love

since he works such terrible hours, he really likes his quality time so he expects to come home to you and do nothing but cuddle or maybe do something like read together

this is random but i feel like he would be a massive critique for no reason

like "sweetie did you notice how tangy this loaf of bread tastes? do you think we should go back there next time?"

or when you're watching a movie it's not uncommon for him to say something like "ugh, this is so unrealistic, she would never fall for that type of trick."

I also think he would accidentally be really into it if you guys watched a kdrama together

Hakari

he's the type of guy that would say "wear what you want, i can fight." period.

he loves to talk- a professional yapper, if you will- but you love it

he talks your ear off about his hobbies (gambling) and some stupid people he may have had to deal with that day

he's pretty nonchalant in general and doesn't try to stress a lot over trivial stuff which means fights wouldn't last long

i get kind of a vibe that he would smoke some herb from time to time but he wouldn't shove it in your face if you don't want him to

he would love to share a coffee with you in the morning, and would probably order you both breakfast

i feel like with dates he's totally going to go with the flow but he loves new things so there's always something for you guys to do together, whether it's movies, or clubs.

Inumaki

your time together can sometimes be... quiet. 😭

i imagine that he's big on physical touch and doesn't care much about PDA (but he won't go too far)

i think his top two love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he's the type of guy that would become your personal nurse if you are sick or get your period

he's also the type where if you were chilling on your phone or reading a book he would do it with you, enjoying some peaceful silence

the jjk fan book mentions that he likes to do Youtube which brings the thought of what would he do on there if he can't exactly talk like the average person?

i'd say he makes cooking videos or posts the pranks that Panda and him do to their friends

he loves to eat with you, it's your thing. he would cook or bring you out to restaurants so you guys could rate the food

you, of course, have also learned his 2nd language over time and unlike megumi, you sometimes respond just like Inumaki does

Choso

honestly if i were to guess, i think he would show his partner love by telling them. very directly.

He's not too much of a cuddler but he'll do it immediately upon your request

He has a dry sense of humor, so dry that no one really knows if it's a joke or not

i think he is more outwardly protective of you than most- so if he catches anyone staring he'll yell at them to 'fuck off!'

I also don't think he would hold his opinions back just to make people happy so if you ask, "how do you think i look in this?" he'll say exactly how he feels- not really in an a insulting way, ever-more truthfully than hurtfully.

he likes to do things that you enjoy, like shopping and he'll help you pick out outfits

he, himself, would probably suggest dates that are calm and intimate, like picnic dates, stargazing, and maybe going out for smoothies/boba

i feel like he would love to try boba after you tell him about it, because he likes sweet things over bitter (like coffee)

i could imagine him being the type to grab your waist from behind while you're busy doing anything

he also really craves your attention when you aren't near him, even if he doesn't say that.