so like, i never really found prank videos on youtube funny even when i was 12 and the target audience for them, but seeing them now as an adult is just like
maam this is an 18 minute video of you going up to people in target, taking stuff out of their baskets or carts, walking off with them, and then insulting them if they didnt react. where am i meant to laugh?
youre just harassing people. how is this even a prank? who is even watching these videos? is there someone out who genuinely finds this funny? who on earth do you make content for? do you find this funny? do you enjoy doing this? what is the point of any of this?
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Bro is ur grandpa still groping u or smth? Is ur bro still putting his face in ur bras?
shut the fuck up anon. i can tell you’re not fucking being sincere. so shut the fuck up. least you could’ve done was put some sort of tw. and i can tell from your tone that you’re not taking me seriously. but fine. whatever.
for context so that nobody is like concerned or whatever. my grandpa is dead now. he has been for three years. and he only did that towards the end. he had alzheimer’s. he only slapped my ass a lot and grabbed my chest a few times. but he was demented so it’s okay i guess. and my brothers done a lot of weird stuff. but it’s whatever.
anyway anon. you also came back and asked about my quotev or whatever. i’m not responding to that since i don’t wanna talk about who was hurt by me. it’s not fair to them. so don’t ask about them. please. i’m not exposing them like that because it isn’t fair. shit on me all you want. hate on me all you want. i deserve that. but do not ty to get me to tell you who it was. i’m not telling. say all the rude shit to me you want but you leave them out of this. i’m not fucking doing that.
i haven’t posted about either issues in two years, nor about my quotev. so why do you know about that? this whole ask is just fucked up. the very least you could’ve done was put a tw. i deleted your other ask though because it’s not your business. and i’m not giving any information about the person because it’s not your business and they don’t deserve that. i don’t even know you. you can shit in me all you want. hate me, harass me, say whatever you want, make whatever threat you want. i don’t care. but don’t bring them up. i just made a vent not even twelve hours ago and you pull this. fuck. you.
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𝗠𝝝𝗡𝗗𝝠𝗬 𝗠𝝝𝗧𝗜𝗩𝝠𝗧𝗜𝝝𝗡
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You're
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
Just so fucking wrong...
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You're
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
Just so fucking wrong...
What the fuck is wrong with you?
You're
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
Just so fucking wrong...
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
You're
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
Just so fucking wrong...
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Rong by Röyksopp 🎧
@kattywompuss @frenchpsychiatrymuderedmycnut @boanerges20 @derflaneur
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TERFs stop posting sexist shit challenge (level: fucking impossible)
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It is absolutely sickening the way this fandom treats creators and contributors who try to breathe life into this dying fucking fandom.
Neutrals and Salsapeños and anyone else on that fucking side should be ashamed. Host your own events if you're so pressed. Leave good people the fuck alone, and stop accusing folks of heinous shit because they want to focus on someone else other than Sansa fucking Stark or dumbass shitposts that make no fucking sense.
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So I got the idea in my head for the prequel of my book and well I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs now
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Get the fuck out of my asks.
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heard you blamed someone for copying to queens secret.
Aren’t you doing that with forgive me father? You copied someone for their priest story. shady
Uffffffff - so anon… I was going to ignore you. I’ve seen all your “asks” and the anger that you harbor for me in them and I’m sorry that somehow I’ve made you so mad you needed to tell me about it. I also know you’re the same person bc your style of wording things is very similar to all the other ones. I don’t know what I’ve done to anger you but maybe if you want to come at me you should tell me why first. Let’s start there.
But I’m going to address this one bc here you’ve accused me of copying/plagiarism. Not acceptable.
The first thing I want to say is that the other author of the fic that is similar to TQS has come to me. We have already worked out the issue amongst us. In the end - that story is different than mine, it’s going in a different direction and that’s that. There’s nothing else to say on that topic bc it’s been settled. I have never accused them of copying me.
The reason I’m addressing this is your ridiculous accusation. I have not copied anyone. Ever. There are other priest fics out there - sure. I’m not the first to write about it but I guarantee you that if you bothered to read mine you’d see mine is not a copy of anything. All the priest fics out there have their own thing going on. And that’s it.
I won’t be accused of something like copying. Maybe you knew this “ask” would get a rise out of me. Well, it worked. You’re wrong. And no one who has read what I wrote would disagree with me. Come off anon and try it.
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been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading
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another super insulting part of the watcher situation i haven't rly seen ppl addressing much
ryan deadass saying smth like "nobody else on youtube has made tv quality content"
like... i really feel like it's important to highlight that bc not only do they obviously have no respect for their audience, but that statement shows they have no respect for their peers in the industry, either.
not to mention it is a shining example of bleeding arrogance to such a high degree, you will straight up fucking lie bc you're truly convinced you're that special when you're anything but.
there's been NUMEROUS online creators who were recognized by entertainment industry workers BECAUSE they made tv quality content & even full stop blockbuster quality content.
bo burnham started on youtube & is now one of the most wellknown & loved standup comedians of our generation, with numerous netflix specials & even a movie he wrote & directed under his belt.
the try guys, fellow ex-buzzfeed employees, had their own tv specials on food network (based off their youtube shows, btw) & a documentary made about them as well
rosanna pansino has also been on numerous food network shows both as a host & a judge
quinta brunsun, another fellow ex-buzzfeed employee, went on to create her own whole ass sitcom that has been highly praised
matpat cameo'd in the fnaf movie because of his theories & multiple other fnaf creators had small cameos through the employee of the month board easter egg
markiplier made multiple high-quality shows on youtube & is now working on a highly anticipated movie (he was also planned to cameo in the fnaf movie but couldn't due to conflicting schedules with his own movie)
hot ones got their own tv gameshow due to their popularity & they are still one of the most wellknown, beloved & respected internet shows
many short films made on youtube went on to premiere at film festivals & even in theaters
the hit horror film "talk to me" was created by youtubers rackaracka
webseries of actual fucking tv shows have also existed for literal decades
the list goes on.
to seriously think that overproduced bullshit is all you need to make "tv quality content" is not only tone-deaf, but shows they do not even know what they're talking about. many tv shows & huge blockbuster movies are made with absolutely microscopic budgets & small teams, & they still get praised & awarded for the passion, dedication, & creativity that shined brightly under those restrictions.
the blair witch project is probably the most wellknown & highly praised example of this, but it is far from the Only example
it is a whole other slap in the face, again ESPECIALLY when puppet history is one of their most popular shows, to spit in the face of internet history. to see the success of their predecessors, even ppl they fucking worked with at buzzfeed, & deny them of all their success & efforts to get where they ended up.
no, y'all are not the first people to make "tv quality content" on the internet. FAR from it. because your crap isn't even genuine "tv quality".
but you are the first ones to ever disrespect not only your audience, but your own fucking industry & your peers on this level.
& you are the first & i sorely hope the only fuckwads dumb enough to pull a stunt this fucking stupid, out of touch & utterly tone deaf.
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
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lore accurate teen soukoku. the worsties ever
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So you can't even pause a video on tumblr mobile now!
@staff how does this help anyone??? What is the point???
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his phone is ringing. he's startled, because no one calls him. he doesn't think anyone even has his number. when he flips it over, it's just a mess of digits, but the area code is familiar. (18+, kinda dark, mw3 spoilers)
he's curious. too curious. he has to answer it, even if he knows he won't respond. he needs to hear someone's voice because the ones in his head are clawing at the inside of his skull, and he needs to ward them off, even if just for a minute.
he picks it up. and he waits for the greeting.
"h...h-hello?"
it's a soft voice. a woman's voice. he frowns, but he says nothing. there's a gentle sniffle on the other end, and then she talks again, a bit shakier this time.
"h-he...he said you might be like this," she whispers. "said...said you might not talk. but...he said you would answer. said you'd always answer."
his head snaps up. suddenly, he's sitting up straight, at attention, and he squeezes his free hand into a fist and nearly punctures the skin with his blunt fingernails. something sharp hits his chest, and his heart drops into his stomach. he tastes acid.
i guess he was right all along. johnny had a bird. and he left her behind, too.
"i-i...i can't--" you stutter, sucking in a shaking breath, and ghost grunts, biting his tongue, wanting to taste blood. every time he thinks he has found his center, something throws him off. the jingle of his dog tags in the bedside table's drawer. the flash of blue in someone's eyes only to realize it isn't him, he's fucking gone, he's dead and so am i.
the sound of his bonnie lass, soft and sweet as she cries into the phone.
the line cuts. you drop the phone, covering your face with your hands, and you sob into your palms. you haven't moved from this place on your couch. everything reminds you of something that once was, and when you found the number on the back of a worn picture tucked neatly into his bible, you called because he told you if you needed him, he would answer.
it's past midnight when the door opens. you're still in the same place, strewn about the cushions where you've been for days, you think. you turn your head, and he nearly has to duck his head to come into your space. when he steps into the moonlight, you see the skeleton mouth of his mask, and you just blink, watching him come closer.
johnny always told you that if something happened, ghost, simon, whatever the fuck he would be calling himself when he would inevitably show up, that he would support you. but you didn't know how. you didn't think to ask, because johnny was all smiles and warm glows, and ghost is a dark cloud that threatens what grows.
but johnny was right.
he supports you when you climb up over him, settling down with your thighs around his head. he supports you when you bend, dragging your warm cunt over the flat of his tongue and chasing the high that you've missed for so long. and he supports you when you cum, scarred cheeks hollowing as he sucks at the skin of your thighs, following the trails of slick that drip from you, letting it guide him right back to where he belongs, inside of you, around you, making you forget what's missing.
yeah. johnny's always right.
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i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD
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