Tumgik
#hurts me just thinking about it
midnight-coffee94 · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly
60K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 7 months
Text
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.
20K notes · View notes
suiheisen · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you think YOU had a bad day at work?
bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera
1K notes · View notes
buggachat · 4 months
Text
(random s5 finale musings) tbh I don't think Marinette chose to keep The Secrets™ from Adrien because Gabriel asked her to. I feel like Marinette keeping secrets like that is so consistent with her character; she hates giving people bad news, she hates rocking the boat, she hates upsetting people, she always chooses to keep any 'controversial' information to herself for as long as she can get away with (examples: bubbler scarf, telling Queen Bee she was benched, confessing to Adrien, warning Chat Noir about Scarabella or Rena Furtive, never told Chat Noir about Chat Blanc, etc) that I just totally believe she would've done it either way. She was even already having nightmares about Adrien hating her for finding out she defeated his father, so I feel like Gabriel's request was moreso giving her a go-ahead than it was a primary deciding factor, yknow?
1K notes · View notes
wasyago · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
so, would you?
nothing important under the cut, you don't need to look haha
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
yaoyaobae · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
May you be blessed with sweet dreams
3K notes · View notes
lazylittledragon · 1 month
Note
what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?
it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".
i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.
the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.
it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.
tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.
542 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
i saw them in the cookbook pages and Immediately thought of this meme:
Tumblr media
906 notes · View notes
Text
incredibly uncomfortable finding out a mutual of mine (thankfully one i wasn't very close to) has been rbing shit complaining about "theyfabs." absolutely vile, if you think that shit is anywhere near okay please weed yourselves out. unfollow, block me, whatever. apparently i haven't been vocal enough about this
your transphobia and bioessentialism is not made progressive by supposedly doing it in defense of other trans people
afab trans people don't have privilege over amab trans people. different experiences do not inherently mean one is better, more desirable, or more privileged than the other. it means they're different
afab vs amab is a reductive binary that not only ignores so many complexities of experience and brushes away even the attempt at intersectionality, but it contributes to the ever-present problem of perisex trans people only acknowledging that intersex people exist when it's convenient to do so. also your bioessentialism is not made progressive by supposedly doing it in defense of other trans people
i've made nicer worded posts about this but they seem to have gone under the radar so let me try again. tme vs tma is a dumb ass fucking excuse for any sort of "analysis" and shows everyone you have no idea what the hell you're talking about. NOBODY is "exempt" from transmisogyny that's the fucking point of systems of oppression!!! they're SYSTEMS!!! white people are not racism exempt! non-muslims are not islamophobia exempt! skinny people are not fatphobia exempt! straight people are not homophobia exempt! stop talking out of your ass and think about your words for longer than five goddamn seconds! also! your bioessentialism is not made progressive by supposedly doing it in defense of other trans people!
stop attacking other trans people! there is an entire fucking attempted genocide happening and you're here just spinning your wheels in the fucking mud getting pissy at random trans people over the internet who are in the exact same struggle as you are! you're not getting anywhere! all you're succeeding in doing is LITERALLY creating new slurs to be used by transphobes against those who should be your fucking siblings
your transphobia and bioessentialism is not made progressive by supposedly doing it in defense of other trans people. it wasn't cute when kalvin garrah did it. it's not cute when blair white does it. and it's not fucking cute when you do it either
2K notes · View notes
fivepibbles · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!
fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3
they are the STINKIEST of family...
(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)
1K notes · View notes
wardingshout · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
fast travel duck my beloved....
979 notes · View notes
inkskinned · 7 months
Text
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.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
10K notes · View notes
shepscapades · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I don’t have a clever caption but. Man. Something about Tango who is very new to guilt, and something about Tango who just absolutely cannot comprehend Jimmy’s complete lack of android understanding and the unashamed kindness that comes from it
2K notes · View notes
crybaby-bkg · 4 months
Text
you know what’s absolutely terrifying???? having to cut a baby’s nails………
Katsuki has to cut your baby’s fingernails when he discovers a tiny little scratch by her eye one morning. it’s barely there, a small thing, but it’s there, marring her little face nonetheless. he frowns at her when he holds her the next morning, her dreamy eyes alert and blinking up at him, she smiles.
“Now I gotta cut yer claws down,” he mutters to her, voice quiet as to not wake your sleeping form in the bedroom. he pads throughout the house with her chubby face resting on his shoulder, her gums gnawing at his bare skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.
he finds himself in a conundrum though, once he realizes just how fucking—how sharp the damn clippers are. they’re tiny, lavender in color, but they’re meant to cut though the nail with such precision. and yes, he’s a pro hero, has had to adopt the title of EMT, firefighter, emergency surgeon a few times in his life when need be.
but…those people weren’t his baby girl. they weren’t this tiny and precious, and they never looked up at him with a face so similar to his, it makes his heart squeeze tight in his chest. he frowns at her again, even deeper, and this makes her hiccup a little giggle, gummy smile spreading wide.
“You’re only gonna wear mittens from here on out,” he grumbles after a while, finally daring to pick up a tiny hand that she instantly curls around his thick finger. it’s the cutest image, he thinks to himself, but he catches sight of the jagged nail, the culprit. his heart squeezes even tighter though, when he realizes that he can’t protect her from every hurt in the world, even if the hurt comes from her own hands. and the realization is an aching one, but he tells himself that he, at least, can patch her up.
you walk in minutes later, find Bakugou curled over your daughter in the rocking chair he built for her room. his tongue pokes from the corner of his mouth in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed. your daughter babbles to him the whole time, her sweet voice cooing the softest little noises that he responds back to.
“I know, I know,” he mumbles to her. “Ya don’t like baths, and don’t like your nails cut, either. What other shit do you hate, huh?” he asks, and she seemingly responds with a long, sighed out coo. it makes him smile, despite the way his hands slightly shake when he cuts the next nail. he’s terrified, of somehow hurting her even more, of cutting too close, of scratching her. but he treks on, and kisses her fat little fingers every time he clips another nail.
545 notes · View notes
gardenofnoah · 4 months
Text
cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles
You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—
“Hey.”
You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.
“Too much?”
The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?
Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“
“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”
The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.
“What’s goin’ on in your head?”
You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.
“S’it okay if I hold you?”
He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.
“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”
Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.
“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“
“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”
It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.
“Can hear you thinkin’.”
“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“
“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”
You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.
“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”
“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”
500 notes · View notes
hellspawnmotel · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
“caroline, please kill me” by coma cinema
#i hope this is readable lol#deltarune#susie#noelle holiday#suselle#art tag#man i had a whole thing to type up here and now i forget most of it. ummm#basically ive been thinkin about suselle with the new info we got from the sweepstakes#specifically from noelle's perspective. because up until chapter 2 she wants susie but she doesnt KNOW susie#its an extremely shallow crush which is normal for teenagers but what makes it interesting to me is#how noelle sort of seems more attracted to the danger susie poses than susie herself#and she doesnt really make an attempt to get to know susie personally until ch 2? iirc?#and before that almost seems to hope that susie will treat her as badly as she treats kris#and you could argue whether its bc of noelle's psychological problems or if its just. yknow. a fantasy#either way my point is shes not really thinking about susies feelings. shes not trying to reform the bully or something#so consider this little lyric comic as taking place in noelle's fantasies pre-ch1#BUT#all that said it doesnt mean noelle isnt open to getting to know susie. obviously#when she sees an opportunity noelle does reach out and not in a way where shes trying to provoke susie to hurt or threaten her#she gives susie a gift and invites her to study together. not to mention the whole ferris wheel thing#i actually think noelle didnt even consider that as an option until susie and kris became friends#and even after chapter 2 noelle doesnt really know susie all that well. and to her susie still exists mostly in the realm of fantasy#but its a start. and they have so much more room to grow and understand each other better#plus susie clearly already cares a lot about noelle#moral of the story is suselle is more compelling than just 'shy girl plus mean girl'#and i like it#good night
5K notes · View notes