#it's just bothering me

[spinspoon]

okay so i know people are disappointed about not seeing mark in the fnaf movie trailer but like i keep seeing posts about cory being in it like "IT SHOULDVE BEEN MARK >:((" are??? really just rubbing me the wrong way??? like can we not just be happy for cory?? i personally think it's epic he's making an appearance

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[stuckinapril]

Honestly the cliche advice is true. If you fill your life w things you’re passionate about, if you challenge yourself every day, if you give your own opinion of yourself more weight than you do other people’s opinions of you, you will actually thrive. Like no one can tell u anything

[khmarrenian]

the longer i have that same thing in about page and that same tag system the more i want to change it

[lancteu]

this has drained me of my will to live

[originalartblog]

Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.

If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.

[hedgehog-moss]

I've been worried this week about birds of prey attacking my chickens—well, one bird of prey. I heard a hen make her very characteristic INTRUDER cry the other day and ran out of the house and there was a hawk flying in circles high above. I half-heartedly threw some sticks in its direction and told my hen not to be so dramatic (the hawk looked like it was minding its own business frankly), but the next day it happened again, and I thought, I've been unfair to the hens, the hawk from yesterday was actually reconnoitering and they could tell. Then there was another alert the next day. I was starting to get a bit alarmed about the fact that I was dealing with the world's most determined hawk—though I didn't see it again past the first time, I figured I arrived too late and Pandolf had already deterred it.

I ended up setting up a pen for the hens very near my house, under the hazel tree so they'd be sheltered, and spying from the kitchen window the next day, to see if it was still the same bird or what. It tended to attack at the same time every day, which was extra baffling.

And what I saw was Pandolf returning from his daily morning patrol around the pasture, faff around looking a bit bored, circle my house looking for me, and when he didn't find me, go to the chickens' pen and pretend to pounce on them like a fox, which startled them and made them cry out. Pandolf didn't touch them, he clearly just wanted them to make their magical Make Human Appear noise. Immediately after they yelped he turned to look at the front door expectantly, waiting for me to run out. He knows that when I get distracted from what I was doing indoors I often end up being like, well, now that I'm outside I might as well go do [outdoor chore of the day] and he gets to tag along, so he concocted this devious plan...

So. I must turn this post into a callout post for Pandolf. This is the face of a problematic dog, who tried to frame a hawk and use innocent hens for his own ends after he realised their person-summoning noises work while his do not.

[t4transsexual]

the amount of trans people i see who are scared to identify as straight is mind boggling. like people who will explicitly say that they are scared to identify as straight. i can only amount it to the growing preceived divide between being straight and being queer, where people arent learning that you CAN be both if youre trans. and ive experienced a lot of hostility just for being an opinionated straight trans guy on this app. like i dont care if you dont think this is a "real problem," i do. i think queer people should be free to feel comfortable in their identity, and if that identity is het-leaning, heterosapphic, het-dyke, hetgay, queerhet, transhet, or literally just straight and heterosexual, they should be free to

[sofiaruelle]

❄️☃️The SDV Girlies in their winter garb!☃️❄️

One side how i interpreted their lil avatars and then the other side is just me playing dress up lmao.

“Bois when?” Dunno. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I will if anyone donates screenshots.

[captainjonnitkessler]

I truly, TRULY do not know how to say this, because the fact that I have to say it makes me feel like I am losing my grip on reality. But no, in the post-capitalistic anarchist utopia, I will not be relying on “autistic minecraft girlies” to be building inspectors because - and this may shock you - one of those occupations takes years of education in how to read and interpret hundreds of thousands of lines of regulations based on complicated math and physics that were the result of decades of tragedy and death, and the other one involves playing a children’s video game.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[bluegiragi]

What are some of your favorite fan fiction writers for Call of Duty?

in no particular ranking/order (and letting you know A LOT OF these authors write extremely explicit p0rn. read the tags):

queeniegalore (literally noone writes ghostsoap like queenie man, her fic called The Spaces Between The Light is my forever comfort read)

MildLimerence (literally the GOAT of this fandom, i swear she's written a solid 30% of everything i've ever read in cod, and i've read her entire catalog maybe 3 times over at this point)

noxmajor (their Seven-Year Itch fic broke my heart and put it back together again)

ANTchan (*coughs* iykyk)

applepieces (*coughs harder but in bottom!ghost*)

surveycorpsjean (writes for a ton of fandoms and is generally just an incredible witer, but their cod fic Poison Apple i think has the most kudoses in the entire tag and it's for good reason)

prettyunhinged (bestie)

congee4lunch (wrote solemn prayer, poppy in my hair which is so painfully domestic and lovely. they've moved on from cod and write for rw&rb now, so don't bother them and ask them for more)

thirteenbullets (writes a lot of ghostsoap hurt/comfort, my favourite is side by side)

kaijusalad (fell in love with i like you alive, continue to fall in love with every additional fic they write about these freaks)

highlonesome (for all your catholic soap and asshole ghost needs. the pain kink is strong with these two.)

[ihatebrainstorm]

[Intrusion]

My uh.. my Brainstorm hc voice.........? Don't ask why I put this much effort into it

ALSO LINK TO OG VIDEO: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Di7pxNivACE&t=1444s

[australet789]

"Alastor is a villain because he chained poor Husk 🥺"

I think you all forget THIS is the Husk that made the deal with Alastor:

The Husk that was so careless and selfish that was gambling SOULS, to the point he gambled his own soul away to save his powers.