#hey man. the fuck

[schrodingers-romy]

Allow me to have one (1) little bitch hater moment in the tags of this post...scroll if you don't care ig

[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.

[gremlingirlsmell]

Yea, I'm pro TransUnity™.

I would like a united community! But to accomplish that you don't shut down anyone talking about intra-community issues and saying we "divide the community" or are "playing opression olympics". Rather, you need to listen.

Listen to transmisogyny-affected people about intracommunity transmisogyny. Listen to trans poc about intracommunity racism. Listen to disabled trans people about intracommunity ableism. Etc, Etc.

Listen to people you want to share a community with you have privilege over, just LISTEN for once, without immediately snapping back! Maybe you'll learn something instead of alienating people you have privilege over and pushing them to make their own smaller communities. And maybe then we can finally have some fucking TransUnity™

[egophiliac]

starting off with an amuse-bouche of some of my initial favorite bits! y'all, this update was WILD.

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[bruciemilf]

"Oh har har Gotham is terrible to Joker and that's why he acts the way he does," Gotham worships a hot topic furry with the mental stability of a soggy cracker and thinks a 10 year old vigilante is perfectly normal

[toomanywordsnllines]

heyyyyyyy guess the new obsession...

[martitheevans]

Shows from the 60s/70s will always consist of the main characters going through the most insane, life-changing, traumatising experience and then having a shot of them all laughing together at the end and proceeding to never speak of it ever again

[atlasisnothere]

[cubbihue]

When you said that the unluckiest person is most hopeful, it reminded me of Nagito Komaeda. If the universe were combined, do you think he would fair well having Anti Cosmo as his anti fairy?

Funnily enough, I feel like it would be Hajime who would have an anti-fairy companion. I mean, he’s surrounded by extremely skilled people! That would attract bad luck in some way for him. Nagito wouldn’t be good food for anti-fairies. Or Fairies. Or Pixies.

...Honestly, Fairies aren’t quite sure what food he produces. It’s like a weird amalgamation of luck, desire, greed, and all sorts of emotions they can’t disentangle. Like a crockpot gone horribly horribly wrong. Eating any bit of that would make any fairy sick.

Eugh. The hell is wrong with that one.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 231

doomed timeline

u ever think about how literally every single one of the thousands of aradias that traveled back to fight in the trolls' boss battle was from a doomed timeline where she had to a) watch all her friends die b) process that she was also doomed and c) then power through all that to do a bunch of time travel detective work so that she could advise the alpha iterations of her friends on how to avoid splitting into that doomed timeline in the first place? before traveling to a battle she knew she wouldn't make it out of?

yeah man

[yorshie]

Safe With Leo

bayverse leo x female reader

SFW, reader in peril off screen, injured reader, Leo pining like a TREE, new nickname acquired, reader is not coping well after violence.

(I think the backstory me and @fuckedupcleric decided to go with was reader got carjacked then Leo did his own carjacking to get her back, but it's up for reader interpretation)

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His voice was low and even, at odds with the way his hands were clenched tightly into fists at his sides. Your gaze lingered on where the right was freshly bandaged, the strips of linen tight, the smell of ointment heavy in the air surrounding him.

The hallway where Leo caught you skulking wasn’t very wide. His shell blocked most of the light from the arcade around the corner. You tried, and failed, not to shrink in on yourself, despite the little voice screaming at you that it was Leo, the one person you always felt safe with. Should always feel safe with.

“Can’t sleep.” You told him, finally, honestly, too tired and too jittery to be able to stand the beeping and sterile cleanliness of the needle room. Your voice was a croaky thing, raw from screaming and sobbing yourself hoarse. Your ears rang, where you had deafened yourself in the enclosed space. Your palms and feet were raw, bruised from the concrete and trying to scratch yourself free. Your arms stung underneath where you were gripping onto your biceps in an attempt to hold yourself together. You could feel the deep cuts littered there, even through the bandages underneath the soft sleep shirt covering you. Covering you, you reminded yourself.

Safe with Leo, you told yourself again.

He let out a slow, heavy breath, the kind you were used to hearing directed at Raph, or Mikey, when either was being particularly annoying. It twisted something deep inside your gut, soured the saliva in the back of your mouth. The feeling of being trapped settled back in your gut when he swayed to the side, creating a space for you to slip past him.

He followed you, like a hound shadowing your footsteps, raising the hair along the nape of your neck. You heard him huff, the noise quiet, before he dropped back another step.

His voice was soft, but firm, when you reached the atrium, “Turn left, head to my room.”

You stalled, foot catching on the cold floor, a wince pulling at your mouth before you could hide the pain, “But-”

Leo shook his head, closing his eyes to dismiss your protest, “There’s no way you’re going to sleep on that couch, blossom.”

Blossom.

That was a new nickname. Before tonight, he’d always used your name, formal and polite, or on the rare occasion, if you were being especially sassy, he’d drop ‘princess’ in a smooth and silky voice that never failed to shut you up in a way Raph couldn’t when he teased you.

Tonight, however, Leo hadn’t whispered your name when he’d scooped you out of the trunk of the car hours before. No, it’d been blossom he’d pressed against your bloodied hair, voice wrecked and shaking as he’d cradled you in his arms and bared his teeth at Donnie when his brother had tried to take you away. It had been blossom he’d cooed at you while holding you still so Donnie could bandage the cuts on your arms, back and legs while you cried.

It’d been blossom he’d whispered when everything had become too much and you’d curled up into a little ball, the last word you’d heard when Donnie had ushered everyone out of the needle room.

Hearing it now, your feet resumed automatically, not ready to press and ask questions, not liking the newfound uncertainty that surrounded your feelings where Leonardo was concerned. 

He shadowed you all the way to his room, his normal, soothing demeanor gone, feeling more like a caged animal at your back than the friend you had grown to know these past two years. 

You stalled just inside the door, taking in the neat and orderly room that you’d only seen in passing before. “I don’t… think I should be here.” 

It felt sacrilegious. A privilege you hadn’t earned. An insight to Leo that made your palms sweaty and itchy and your stomach feel like lead. You wanted to be here…

You feared it.

He was watching you with an unreadable expression when you turned. “Do you want to go back to the needle room?”

Needle Room. Just the name sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps and chills breaking out as you recalled the phantom smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant.

“No,” you whispered, too tired to keep the petulant edge from your voice despite the fact you knew he hated it.

Leo sighed again, his shoulders moving with the motion, and you idly realized his hands had yet to move, or unclench, from the rigid way he kept them at his sides. “Then, you,” He tipped his beak towards you, then to a point across the room, “bed.” 

He waited, patient as the moon, for you to cross the room, silent as you pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets. You weren’t sure what to make of the way his eyes lingered for a moment, or of the way tension seemed to bleed out from his frame.

“Get some sleep.” He offered, voice noticeably softer, closer to that rumble you remember from the nightmare of your rescue. “If you need me, I’ll be just down the hall.”

You watched, unblinking, as he turned and disappeared from the doorway, not even a scuff of his feet to announce his departure. 

Maybe you were dreaming, maybe it had been a fictitious Leonardo that had offered the one thing you’d dreamt of, the one thing that you were sure you’d never get to experience. The one wish you’d squashed and squeezed, hoping one day it would disappear completely.

You were in his space. You looked slowly around the room, taking in the little pieces of decor, and the way everything was set just so. It screamed Leo, down to the soft blue blankets you were curled up under. 

Safe. The room told you. Safe from prying eyes, from staticy emotion boiling off other’s bodies, from questions you weren’t in any state to answer.

Safe with Leo.

Your eyelids fluttered, tension bleeding out of your spine with every deep inhale, letting the stale scent of teakwood and jasmine on the sheets, the incense from across the room, the tea on the little table beside your head, swirl together, lulling you to sleep with the scent of Leo.

Safe with Leo.

[laniidae-passerine]

positively obsessed with how Rockstar Lestat is the exact kind of guy one of my friends would show me a picture of and swear he’s really sexy and cool and brilliant. Whole time I’m thinking “oh dear GOD” staring at a trainwreck weirdo and wondering what’s happened to everybody else that is absolutely missing me. jesus christ he’s blond

[ardentastronomer]

strider-man... haha. im hilarious (johndave week day 5 - first kiss) alt under cut

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile