‘There are no women in video games!’

‘Women in video games are always sexualized!’

‘If their main outfit isn’t sexualized, their alternate costumes are!’

‘Women in sports games never wear appropriate clothes! They just wear sexy outfits!’

‘Women are always damsels in distress and never know how to fight!’

‘Women in games are never allowed to be feminine!’

‘Women can never be main characters in games!’

‘And if they are, the ratings are never good!’

‘Women in games can only be masculine, they can’t use feminine attributes to their advantage!’

‘Women are never valuable party members!’

‘Women in video games are only interested in male partners or friends!’

‘Women in video games always dress as men, but men in video games never dress as women!’

‘No one ever likes a woman in a video game!’

‘Women in video games -’

Princess Peach has got you covered.

Creepypasta #1579: Look.

Length: Short

My alarm goes. This is the proud announcement that heralds the birth of a new day: a thick, screeching cacophony.

Fuck off, I think. I turn to the abhorrent device. The tone is cold, heavy and jarring. It pushes. It is as though my eyes are being physically repelled from the display. 3.AM. I have not set it to wake me up at 3.AM, obviously.

I slam my hand on the instrument, ending the torture. I slump back onto the bedsheets, gazing up into the shapes my mind conjures onto the textured blankness of the ceiling. My room is oppressively large. I have never noticed this before. Looking around, I can barely see the corners. Among the piles of folded clothes, I cannot tell blackness from darkness.

Suddenly, light. The bedside cabinet casts a weak glow on the ceiling. My phone is probably notifying me of some trivial record, a person’s vapid shell which has interacted with mine in an immaterial and inconsequential world. I seize the device all the same.

National Government This is an open message from your government officials. Do not, under any circumstance, look at the moon. Do not ask why.

National Goverment REPEAT: Do not look at the moon. REPEAT: Do NOT look at the moon. It is essential that this is carried out without question. REPEAT—

What the fuck is this? Why should I—

The text messages make no sound. No noise, no vibration, nothing but the pulsation of pixels upon the screen give them their voice.

07374636736 Wooow, the sky is beautiful tonight..

Unknown ID The moon is so beautiful, LOOK at it….

Unknown ID The moon is pretty, look.. look into the sky and you’ll see..

08999957997 Wow the sky is amazing tonight, look at it now

Unknown ID the moon is wonderful, LOOK. NOW.

Hundreds upon hundreds of texts and calls are flooding in. I drop the phone, push it away. Is this some kind of joke? The government messages persist at the top of the cascade of calls and messages. A shiver seizes me. I grab the phone and swipe a caller.

“Hello? Who is it?”

I hear nothing.

“Why are you calling me? Is this some kind of joke?”

The voice is polite, shuddering in coldness and audibly spoken through a grin. “The moon is so pretty, don’t you think? Have a look, tell me what you think. It looks magnificent tonight. Have a look.”

I hang up. I’ve had enough. What the fuck is going on? I go to the curtains and throw them open. Nothing out of the ordinary. As usual, the puny light of the streetlamps is incomparable to the radiance of the moon, of course. Nothing is so mighty, so beautiful, so magnificent. Trust me. It is wonderful. The moon tonight is the most beautiful thing you will ever see. Trust me. Have a look. Look up into the sky. It is so magnificent. The moon is so beautiful tonight.


Credits to: Spireheist (story)

Y’KNOW WHAT REALLY GETS ME?? Keith views himself as serious. He thinks his friends would describe him as serious. 

And mostly that’s true. He rarely jokes around. But then around Lance he’s like-

“what was that? you’re- you’re cutting out I can’t hear you!”

“heh, like that?”

“look, I’m glad we’re all making fun of Lance-”

“wow, it must really be bothering you if you’re coming to talk to me” / “solid math”

Gráinne Ní Mháille (c.1530 - c.1603), commonly known as Grace O'Malley, was a legendary Irish pirate and Chieftan of the Ó Mháille clan during the 16th century.

Born around 1530, Ní Mháille was the child of a wealthy sea trader who she accompanied on his voyages from a young age. As a teenager she was married to Donal Ó Flaithbheartaigh, heir to a powerful clan, as a political move. The marriage lasted for 19 years, during which they had three children and Ní Mháille gained considerable experience commanding ships in her husband’s fleet.

Following the death of her husband and her father, Ní Mháille inherited a considerable amount of money and took over her father’s fleet of 20 ships and hundreds of sailors. She built on her father’s success to become one the dominant forces on the Irish west coast, launching raids on rival clans, forcing merchant ships to pay for safe passage, and imposing taxes on fishermen as far away as England. She also transported Gallowglass mercenaries between Scotland and Ireland, often raiding Scottish islands at the same time.  Her position was strengthened by the control of several coastal castles, most prominent of which was Rockfleet Castle, which she gained through her second marriage to Risdeárd Bourke. After a year of marriage she is said to have taken control of the castle, barring Bourke from entering and yelling from a window, “I dismiss you!”.

Ní Mháille had a tumultuous relationship with the English. From the early 1560’s onward she was accused of piracy multiple times, but she won some favour with the English by assisting in coastal attacks on southern Ireland and won the respect of Sir Henry Sidney, the Lord Deputy of Ireland. However n 1579 she was besieged in her castle by English forces, who she defeated by pouring hot oil on the attackers and according to some accounts by making homemade bullets from melted down armour.

Ní Mháille made a lasting enemy in the form of Richard Bingham, the English ruler of Connacht, after she fought alongside the Bourkes in open rebellion against him from 1585 to 1589. Bingham sought revenge for the rebellion by targeting Ní Mháille, destroying her lands and property. Bingham killed Ní Mháille’s eldest son, Eoghan, and captured his castle, while making a deal with one of her other sons, Murchadh, to switch sides. Ní Mháille swore never to speak to Murchadh again after his betrayal and burned his lands.

Financially ruined, the final blow to Ní Mháille came in 1593 when Bingham captured her other son, Tiobóid, as well as her brother and threatened them with charges of treason. Ní Mháille petitioned Queen Elizabeth of England directly to ask for their release. Elizabeth sent Ní Mháille a list of questions which she answered, and later that year the two women met at Greenwich Palace near London. Despite Ní Mháille’s rough manners and refusal to bow, the two women, both in their sixties, seemed to develop a healthy respect for each other. As neither spoke the other’s language they conversed in Latin, striking an agreement that Ní Mháille’s family would be released, reparations would be made for her stolen property, and that Bingham would be removed from power.

The agreement did not last. Reparations were not fully made, and while initially stripped of his position, Bingham was eventually allowed to return to power in Ireland. Angered, Ní Mháille returned to helping Irish rebels during the Nine Years’ War. She died of old age in Rockfleet Castle at the end of the war in 1603. After her death Ní Mháille’s fighting prowess led to many Irish folk tales being told about her and she is still remembered as a legendary pirate.