just once I want to see a good post critiquing makeup culture that doesn’t turn out to be made by some janky radfem blog
oh hey!! I’m not a janky radfem I can do it myself!
makeup culture is wack and normalizes a ludicrously high bar as the bare minimum women can do. I saw a “lazy"makeup tutorial the other day that listed 22 separate goddamn products. you’re supposed to buy and know how to use 22 different things on your face just for the privilege of being considered lazy and that’s uuuuuuh what’s the word? bullshit.
Really, five products could work, even 3. Just frame the face, eyes, lips, and you’re done.
0 products also works great
because I’m gonna be real here, the idea that 22 products is a minimum sucks but it’s really upsetting that any amount of makeup is the bare minimum at all
I would really just suggest some powder foundation, concealer, mascara and lipgloss/lipstick, or tbh just mascara works too, but that’s up to you
I’m sorry if I didn’t express this clearly enough in the original post but I’m not really looking for more concise makeup regiments. my intention was to point out how it’s Bad that makeup is considered a bare minimum at all, regardless of individual feelings on the matter
no face should be “required” to have “a minimum” of makeup. makeup has no health benefits and does nothing but fill the pockets of companies that prey on women and our insecurities.
makeup should not be seen as hygiene because it isnt. get that shit out of your head.
this post: makeup culture is ridiculous and 22 products should not be considered a minimum requirement for someones face. no one should have to do that
the notes: so like……. what youre saying is……. we need to make the minimum about 5 or 6 instead… i gotcha
Really the only makeup you need is eyeliner but that’s just my personal opinion
Jane’s been attracted to men before. She’s pretty sure she has, although who exactly she was attracted to escapes her memory right now. She remembers having crushes on boys and being crushed by girls. They were always so different to her, with their shiny hair and soft lips and firm tits that Jane definitely hadn’t spent too much time thinking about.
But while she likes thinking about Casey, she doesn’t really like talking to Casey or writing to Casey or kissing Casey or having sex with Casey. She likes the idea of Casey, but when she thinks of the kind of person she’d like to be with, it’s someone she likes talking to. Someone she finds interesting, someone she can listen to rattle off breeds of South African venomous species and their distribution. Someone who can listen to her complain about her Ma and know she means it good naturedly. Someone who can handle her brothers, who takes her side instead of theirs.
So she breaks up with Casey, because he deserves all those things as well. From someone that isn’t her. Because while Jane’s sure she’s been attracted to men before, it pales sharply in comparison to the way her heart beats at the very idea of seeing Maura, even though she sees her everyday. It doesn’t hold a candle to the way Jane feels when Maura gives her that smile she only ever gives Jane. Jane’s had crushes before, but only Maura could truly crush her. So she keeps it to herself, even though she knows Maura knows something is wrong.
-
Maura lets herself in. They never need to knock, and Jane was only half asleep. She rolls over when Maura slides under the covers and lets herself hold Maura selfishly, fiercely, protectively for a little while, Maura soft and complacent and grateful, and it kills Jane how grateful she is to be held, not knowing that Jane’s twisted their relationship, that Jane might be attracted to her. Maura can’t lie, but Jane feels like her whole life is a lie. Like she’s been lying to herself, and worse, Maura.
“What’s wrong,” Maura asks finally. “Is it Casey?”
“It’s you. Casey was everything I could want in a man. But I didn’t want him.” Jane knows Maura doesn’t like to extrapolate from missing data, but she knows she’s supplied enough clues for Maura to know. “And you’re the only person I actually like. You’re the only person I can stand to spend more than a few hours a week with. You’re the only person I can see myself living with. We have everything I didn’t have with Casey.”
“Not everything,” Maura says quietly. “There’s certain things I don’t have.”
Jane pauses, aware that her thumbs are rubbing over Maura’s forearms.
“What if that wasn’t a deal-breaker?” Jane asks, holding her breath. Maura rolls over, examines Jane in the dim light from the window.
“Are we having a sleepover, or is this your way of saying you’re attracted to me?” Maura asks, but her voice is light and knowing, and she leans in to test her hypothesis.
-
Jane’s been attracted to men before. She’s pretty sure she has. But with Maura sleeping angelically in her arms, it’s very hard to remember who, or why. When she thinks about the type of person she wants to be with, the only feasible person is Maura.
it’s crazy how i don’t know what any of you do for school/uni/work? who are you guys outside of tumblr? what do you work as??
I’m shook at prev tags ur a CHEF?!? Was NOT expecting that tbh-
i was legit thinking about this today - what do you guys do (if you are comfortable sharing) - are you in school (if so, what are you studying) ? taking a break? figuring things out? working (if so, what?)
i genuinely want to know (it makes me feel like i know you all that much more)
i’m curious, so put in the tags where you grew up and how you learned the four cardinal directions. i grew up in the south in the usa, and we learned “never eat slimy watermelon.”
Jane’s affectionate when she’s drunk. Well, she’s always affectionate, but she’s unreserved in her esteem of Maura after a few beers. She has her hand tangled in Maura’s hair, or resting on the back of Maura’s neck in their booth, and at Maura’s house she’ll pull Maura back against her on the couch to hold her, to play with Maura’s fingers, Angela chuckling indulgently and excusing herself, or at Jane’s condo Jane will throw herself across Maura’s lap and whine until Maura starts rubbing Jane’s back.
It’s a lot. Maura hadn’t been used to physical affection before Jane, and this is amplified. With anyone else it would be uncomfortable, but with Jane it’s nice.
Right now Jane is sprawled across Maura’s lap, and she rolls over to look up at Maura. Maura watches as Jane’s hands come up to her face, brush across Maura’s cheek and slip down to her mouth.
“Why’re you so pretty?” Jane asks finally, pulling her hands away. Maura sighs and removes her hand from Jane’s ribs, urging Jane to her feet for a shower. Maura showers too, once Jane is done, and when she opens the bathroom door, Jane is directly behind it, startling Maura a little. Jane’s hand lifts back up to Maura’s mouth.
“How’re you so good to me?” Jane asks as Maura ushers her to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her. Jane hasn’t managed to pull on her socks, and Maura digs through the drawers to find two that are at least the same colour. She slides them on Jane’s feet, rubs them through the socks for a minute, listening to Jane’s moan of appreciation with some satisfaction. She pulls the blankets over Jane and gets in to the far side of the bed. Jane isn’t drunk enough that Maura is worried about leaving her alone, but Jane never seems to mind when Maura stays over, and she’d had a glass of wine too. It was safer to stay, it was late, and affectionate, buzzed Jane always holds Maura the way sober Jane doesn’t when Maura does stay over.
Jane hums and finds Maura in the bed like a piranha finds blood in the water. Like a heat seeking missile, and Maura melts as Jane wraps her arms around her. Jane is always affectionate with Maura, but this is the icing on the cake, these are the moments Maura lives for. She stays awake as long as she can, finally feeling safe and warm and loved, the way she’d never felt before Jane. And when she sleeps, she doesn’t dream of dead bodies with her family’s faces. She dreams of being on a beach with Jane, of hiking through the woods with Jane, of cruising through a glacier with Jane, of getting married with Jane. To Jane.
—
Jane wakes early, feeling dehydrated but well-rested. She squeezes the body in her arms, already knowing who it is. Maura won’t wake for a while, which gives her time to examine her in the glow of the streetlights hazily shining through the thin curtains. Even sleeping, even without makeup, even after a long week like they’d just had, Maura is gorgeous. She pulls away a little as Maura stirs, scared her gaze has woken her, but Maura reaches out for Jane and holds her close. When Maura blinks her eyes awake, Jane is still there, still close.
“Why do I love you so much?” Jane whispers, her heart in her hands. Maura smiles bemusedly, as though the answer is obvious, but instead she does what Jane never does, what Jane will never do and she kisses her best friend softly, heedless of morning breath on either side.
“Because I love you more,” Maura says.
“Impossible,” Jane says, lips tingling with the improbability of that kiss.
Jane’s affectionate when she’s drunk, but no more so than usual, anymore.
Jane didn’t use terms of endearment. Not until Maura.
Maura had said something so sweetly innocent with such childlike wonder - was it that Jane could touch her phone and half an hour later a pizza would show up? Jane couldn’t remember, but Maura had beamed like she’d understood all the secrets of the universe, and Jane laughed at her, tipping back her beer. And she’d said ‘oh sweetheart, you need to get out more’, and she remembered exactly what she’d said because that secretsoftheuniverse smile had been aimed at Jane, fading into what was an even sweeter smile, before Maura’s face was obscured because Maura was leaning her head against Jane’s shoulder on the couch next to her.
Jane didn’t use said terms of endearment often. When Maura looked sad, when Maura looked stressed. When Maura needed a little boost, Jane would slip one in, and watch as Maura went from sad to happy, from stressed to relaxed. Maura would always affirm that she’d recognised what Jane had done with a little touch, a squeeze of a hand, a bump of a gloved fist, the jostle of a shoulder. Or if they were at Jane’s, Maura’s head on Jane’s shoulder, their arms tangled together.
Jane didn’t mind people overhearing her use terms of endearment to Maura, unless they were at work. But Jane made the mistake, one night at dinner at Maura’s, the entire Rizzoli clan there, of telling Maura 'thanks for putting up with us, darling’. It had just slipped out; they’d just been talking to Constance and somehow the word sounded a lot more… intimate than the other terms of endearment. Honey and sweetheart fit the lighthearted vibe she’d always strived for, but darling sounded… Jane looked up to see her family completely nonplussed, even as Maura stood to make her way over and press a kiss into Jane’s hair on her way past to the kitchen. She expected some ribbing from Tommy and Frankie, or a disappointed look from Angela, but no one seemed to think this was unusual. Staring suspiciously at her family, she went to help Maura in the kitchen.
“'Darling’ is new,” Maura noted. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Constance,” Jane said, shrugging, as though that was an explanation. “You don’t mind?”
“Jane.” Maura put down the bowl of raspberries and looked at Jane seriously. “The only thing I mind is…” Maura looked down, picked up the bowl and took it to the table, easily joining the conversation. Jane brought over the rest of the desert, itching with curiousity. Maura seemed to enjoy this little torture, smiling up at Jane’s impatience across the table. When the Rizzolis moved to the tv, Jane snagged Maura by the arm and dragged her outside to the courtyard.
“What do you mind?” Jane asked finally, Maura still looking at her with that scientific-discovery face she had.
“I mind not being yours. Your sweetheart, your darling.”
“Aw, honey,” Jane said, looking at Maura like she was the most adorable idiot in the world. “The 'my’ is implied.”
“It is?” Maura asked, looking up at Jane with wide eyes full of wonder.
“Yeah,” Jane said. “If you wanted to imply.”
“I don’t do well with missing information. Perhaps you could make it explicit in future.”
“I’ll make something explicit,” Jane grumbled, leaning in to kiss Maura.
“Oh, my darling,” Maura lilted, not quite breaking into song and Jane groaned, knowing what was coming as Maura laughed against her shoulder.
okay wait u should all take the nyt dialect quiz which will tell u where ur from based on the words you use for certain things. don’t dox urself in the tags tho
I ship Sasha Alexander and Rizzles. I was born in the same city as Sasha Alexander, just a year earlier. I pretty much just blog about Sasha and Rizzles, but occasionally I'll post something unrelated.
