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there are two heads of the table, and only one of them is standing.

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surprise

i have no clue if anyone remembers me or anything, but i’m really back into mark’s content so i’m gonna try and revive my blog. at a different url obviously! i’ll link it here once it’s made. for now, my current blog is @kaylaylaylayla !!

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now at @arinharin.

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now at @arinharin.

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now at @arinharin.

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I think I'm gonna restart my blog.

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2013 was five years ago let that sink in

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My favorite Off Broadway Hamilton lyrics that didn’t make into the Broadway version

Bonus:

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When someone attractive on the internet starts messaging you

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The Assistant - Chapter One.

SUMMARY: You just recently landed a new job working with a group of strange (and nearly identical) men. You thought it would be a normal assistant job…boy, were you wrong.

WORD COUNT: 1,111 (lmao)

WARNINGS: None.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey everyone! This is my brand new series about Markiplier’s egos. It’s a sort of choose your own adventure, so at the end there will be a poll on what decision the main character will make. Please read, reblog if you like, and vote!

To say you were nervous was an extreme understatement.

You were twenty-three, fresh out of college with your bachelor’s in journalism, and it had taken you a while to find a steady job that paid well and was willing to take students with little experience. Now that you had, you were starting to wish you had just taken that promotion at McDonald’s when you were twenty and let your dreams be dreams.

You’d already gotten the job, but you could feel anxiety bubbling up in your chest nonetheless. Your job would be to manage roughly eight men (which was not your dream, to say the least), and just keep them all on track. It paid fifteen dollars an hour, so you settled.

Keep reading

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power move: put the fbi agent watching you through a series of endurance tests. stay awake for 72 hours. put obscene images over your webcam. chew gum really loudly next to your mic. they may have wiretaps but by god they won’t have peace

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THIS is why representation is important

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friend who has read receipts on: *reads my message at 8:00 and still hasnt replied at 8:02*

me: i get it. nothing ive ever said has or ever will matter to you. i understand now how foolish i was to think our chats were pertinent, important, significant to you. i hope you have a nice rest of your life because i am finished with these mind games.

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What a fishfuck

(okay but big thanks to @lum1natrix for giving me tips on how to make the darkiplier effect :D)

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The Assistant - Chapter One.

SUMMARY: You just recently landed a new job working with a group of strange (and nearly identical) men. You thought it would be a normal assistant job...boy, were you wrong.

WORD COUNT: 1,111 (lmao)

WARNINGS: None.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey everyone! This is my brand new series about Markiplier’s egos. It’s a sort of choose your own adventure, so at the end there will be a poll on what decision the main character will make. Please read, reblog if you like, and vote!

To say you were nervous was an extreme understatement.

You were twenty-three, fresh out of college with your bachelor’s in journalism, and it had taken you a while to find a steady job that paid well and was willing to take students with little experience. Now that you had, you were starting to wish you had just taken that promotion at McDonald’s when you were twenty and let your dreams be dreams.

You’d already gotten the job, but you could feel anxiety bubbling up in your chest nonetheless. Your job would be to manage roughly eight men (which was not your dream, to say the least), and just keep them all on track. It paid fifteen dollars an hour, so you settled.

When you arrived, you were greeted by the same man who had conducted your interview. He had black hair that swept into his face, and wore an expensive-looking suit. Around him was a red and blue aura, and his skin was a sickly gray. You couldn’t explain what he was, but he was your boss now, so you decided to say “screw it” and just ignore his demonic vibes.

“Good morning,” Dark said with a smile. His voice was silky smooth and a little calming, despite the ringing in your ears whenever you were around him. You greeted him happily, and he led you down a series of hallways.

“To start, I would like to introduce you to everyone,” he explained. “There are technically nine of us, but you’ll only be really working with six, including myself. Now, don’t be intimidated. They’re all...characters, to say the least. They might take a little bit to get used to.”

“Okay…” You nodded slowly, trying to wrap your head around all of this. What did he mean, they were all characters? How weird could they possibly be?

Your question was answered when he opened the door to the conference room. There were five people all sat at a table, talking over each other all at once. There was a guy standing at the head of the table, with cotton-candy pink hair and a matching mustache. The second the door opened, though, they all fell silent.

“Ooh, is this her?” The standing man chirped, walking up to you. He leaned in uncomfortably close, squinting his eyes as if examining you. You leaned away.

“Wilford, please,” Dark said with a sigh. “Sit down and let me start the meeting. The faster you do, the faster we can get this done and over with.”

The man--Wilford--pouted, but sat down. You looked over all the men, and found they all looked remarkably similar, but they were obviously very different. Dark led you to the front of the room and looked over everyone.

“So, everyone,” he said, “you all know how I was talking about hiring an assistant, correct?”

Everyone nodded.

“Well, I took it upon myself to hire Y/N here.” He gestured to you. You smiled politely and gave everyone a little wave.

“If you guys could go around and introduce yourselves, that would be good,” you said softly. Wilford instantly perked up and raised his hand.

“Oh, I’ll go first! My name is Wilford Warfstache, and I am undoubtedly the handsomest and most talented person in the room.” He flashed you a smile, and you shifted uncomfortably yet again.

“Um...okay. Hi,” you replied. The man next to him cleared his throat awkwardly and smiled. He wore a suit similar to Dark’s and glasses.

“I’m Bim Trimmer,” he said with a smile. “Game show host.”

“I am Google,” the next one said. “Primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective is to destroy mankind.”

Oh.

“The Host welcomes you. The Host is an author.” This man wore a bloodstained blindfold and a tan trench coat. You couldn’t help but be a little concerned for him, considering as he was talking in the third person. The man sitting next to the Host wore a lab coat and blue scrubs.

“My name is Dr. Iplier,” he said simply. “I’m...well, a doctor.”

“And these are all the people you’ll be working with,” Dark explained. “If any of them are anything but kind and courteous to you, please let me know. You’re here to help, and they should respect that.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding. “Um, I guess I’ll introduce myself. I’m Y/N, I’m twenty-three, and I just got out of college with my bachelor in journalism.”

“Journalism?” Wilford asked. “I’m a professional reporter, you know.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You grinned.

“Okay, I’m going to show Y/N her office. You’re all dismissed.” Dark led you out of the room and back down the hall. “I apologize if any of them are a little strange. Wilford, especially, is a little bit of an eccentric.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” You shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get used to them more soon.”

“Alright.” He nodded hesitantly and opened the door to a small office. It was beautiful; it had a large window behind the desk that you could look through. You smiled and walked in, placing your bag on the desk.

“This is so nice,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I would get such a cool office.”

“Well, we have plenty of room here, so I figured I would give you the best office we have,” Dark replied. The building was a little odd; it was a mansion, but an office as well. It had conference rooms and offices, but it branched off into a living quarters for the people that worked there (excluding yourself; you were very happy in your apartment). Dark said it was to save space and money, and you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll give you some time to get settled,” he said. “You may begin your work when you’re ready.”

You thanked him, and he left. You took your laptop out of your bag and placed it on the desk, plugging it in. You hadn’t been sure how big your office would be, so you decided not to bring a whole lot of stuff. It wasn’t long before you had everything set up: your computer, a cup of pens, a few notebooks, and manila folders for filing.

You spun the chair around and looked out over the property. It wasn’t a whole lot to look at, but it was nice. You could see the parking lot and the trees, and that was a good enough view for you.

After a few minutes of relaxing, you figured it would be a good idea to go around and formally meet everybody. You should get to know the people you’re working with, of course.

VOTE: WHO WILL WE MEET FIRST? 

(in an effort to save time, the top two will be featured in the next chapter, not just the winner)

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why does everyone sleep on the early darkiplier videos like mr kitty saves the world, error #53, and raspy hill?? those are SCARY as FUCK.