#who finds these videos funny. who are they for

[bcbryar]

Text from Tom's music video:

TommyInnit just posted a song and a video, and in the video there's a bunch of quick, flashing screens with text. I screenshotted them all and transcribed them in this post (below the cut because it's kind of long).

If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web. So little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.

A Tribute To Minecraft, The Great Potato War, TheOriginalAce's Q&A's, Ludwig's 2020 streams, SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.

Status is irrational & nature is cyclical It's attention porn. Don't get addicted to it. It's nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know?

When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. Along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. That is the only good bit. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit.

I CAN'T WATCH BACK MY OLD VIDEOS BECAUSE EVERYONE IN THEM WASN'T WHO THEY SAID THEY WERE/ DO YOU KNOW SAD THIS MAKES ME FEEL. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD I HAVE FELT ALL YEAR.

HOW COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY FIND OUT WHO THEY ARE WHEN YOU ARE ALL IMMERSED IN THIS NEEDLESS, SELF INDULGENT SPIRAL OF INSTANT GRATIFICATION AND DISTRACTION. THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU.

[Text is upside down in the video] I don't think I trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao.

yeah i know it's too much like bo burnham. It won't be in a year though. IN a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?

I used to feel like I was just doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again.

I just don't want to slip back into who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That really was wrong. How did I possibly end up there?

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

dick grayson instagram hcs

basics

we are pretending dick is not a cop in this because i said so!

he's a professional model but also does perform at a local circus as a special guest

he's not actually going to the olympics (yet) but the american team has been trying to contact him for the better part of the decade so maybe you can convince him to go

he's kind of like one of your friends who you think is chill and normal but then you go to their ig and you find out they're something of a local celebrity?

everybody in gotham already knew him as bruce wayne's son but also he went semi viral on tiktok and got a bunch of new fans (and some edits) out of it

he used to have a less serious pfp but his management convinced him to use this one instead

followers + following

obviously you're there

as well as his friends and family

he manages to get away with following the superheroes since i mean, basically everybody else does as well

also a lot of industry people that he meets, both for modeling and gymnastics/trapeze

highlights

he is an abuser of the story function

will spend any opportunity to brag about his pretty girlfriend and all of the dates and trips you guys go on

he is weirdly good at taking photos, will give you tips on how to pose to get your best angles

also he has a lot of fans so he likes to post a photo of you every once in a while to remind everyone that he's happily taken

will also repost your work related stuff to be like hey look at how cool my gf is at her job!

dude has a million highlights that he updates for the fashion weeks each year

a lot of photos of his looks, him meeting with certain designers, it's mostly his team who posts this

same thing with his shows in the sense that it's usually other people (including you) taking photos of him while he's performing

but this is a more personal venture of his so he asks everyone to send him the pics and he decides which ones to post

will also repost stories from fans who came to the show!

oooh this man posts the most jaw dropping photos of himself

he will have just woken up and post a photo that makes you think it's so unfair how perfect somebody can be

he just likes to post when he feels good about himself and i support!

haley and (i did not come up with a name for your guys' cat so you guys can have fun with that!) also have their own dedicated highlight

it is exactly as cute and wholesome as you would think it is

there are even more highlights if you keep on scrolling. he has highlights for each year's fashion weeks, as mentioned, as well as trips you guys have been on (the most recent is a trip to greece and italy!)

posts

once again he's one of those infuriating sort of famous people who are like fine as hell but they post just enough cute and relatable content that he actually seems like a real and very nice guy (fun fact, he is!)

you can tell immediately when he's been on a trip because he'll have at least 3 posts up and they're all of the same place

you guys are like the photo taking couple

if you weren't good at taking pics before you started dating, his skills definitely rub off on you

he'll do the thing where he gets you to pose for him so he can take a photo of you and then you take the same style of photo for him

it's disgusting you guys have matching photos on your feeds of each other

if it wasn't already common knowledge that you guys are dating, i can imagine the conspiracy theory videos being like guys they were in the same place? at the same time? and they took the same type of pics? i think they're dating

he loves cooking with you (while i personally think it would be really funny if he can't cook, in some of the comics they do mention that he can cook, but either way he enjoys cooking with you)

you guys are like the parent friends who host dinner at their place and there's usually a theme surrounding seasonal ingredients and everything's plated really well

you probably watch cooking shows together and are now you can't serve a dish without some microgreens or sliced radish on top or something

also yes he did plan the picnic and he's quite proud of it

he watched all of those charcuterie board hacks to make the flowers and fancy cheese arrangements

and there were chocolate dipped strawberries, champagne with glasses, and freshly baked cookies (alfred might have helped with that one)

also yes he does wear glasses!!!! only at home when he's reading or staring at a screen too long. his prescription's not that bad

———

jason ver.

[wils-brother-tommy]

all hidden messages in Tommy's new music video "The Internet's Getting Worse"

"If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching souless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web, so little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it."

"They want you to be angry-

Stop being angry."

"When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. All along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. That is the only good bit of this. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit."

"A Tribute To Minecraft.

The Great Potato War.

The Original Ace's Q&A's.

Ludwig's 2020 streams.

SMPLive Talent Show.

This was everything to me."

"Status is irrational & nature is cynical"

"It's attention porn. 

Don't get addicted to it.

It's nothing. 

It means nothing."

"They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know?"

"I can't watch back my old videos because everyone in them wasn't who they said they were. Do you know how sad this makes me feel. Do you know how sad I have felt all year."

"How could anyone possibly find out who they are when you are all immersed in this needless, self indulgent spiral of instant gratification and distraction. This is not good for you."

"the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao."

"I don't think I trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here."

"Yeah, I know it's too much like bo burnham. it won't be in a year though. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?"

"I used to feel like I was doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again."

"I just don't want to slip back to who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That was really wrong. How did I possibly end up there?"

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 18

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. all chapters

Eighteen. 十八

Maybe because Donaka watches you streaming how-to videos over the limited access iPad he gives you, a yoga teacher starts coming every other day to the house for an hour session.  

You cannot help but think the gesture is self-serving, keeping you limber for his own gratification, but it gives you something to do while he’s gone. 

It also helps calm you, in the moments when you are sorely tempted to break every expensive antique ceramic he has in the house, starting with the extremely rare pale green Ru Ware vases.

He’s kept his word, not letting you outside the compound since your little escape attempt. On top of the cameras, you feel his security team watching you at all times when he’s out–from a distance, but it’s still unnerving. You’re doing your best to be the goodest of girls–but it’s driving you crazy inside.

You’ve tried to write, but the words do not come easily anymore. Partly because you know he would read them later, and partly?

You feel too overwhelmed to even begin to make sense of this in the shape of words. 

You read instead, spending a great deal of your time in the library. You sprawl in the comfy chairs, but your favored pose is laying on your belly with a book on the floor like you did when you were a child. Partly because it’s comfortable and partly, it gives you the ridiculous psychological illusion of hiding. You are laying like this behind the table when you hear the door open, and recognize just by the confident footfalls who has entered your little sanctum. 

You cannot keep your heart from pounding double-time–depending on his mood, it could be good to see him back from work this early, or very bad.  

“Are my chairs not satisfactory?” he asks, the corner of his mouth pulled just slightly. “Do you require a pillow fort?”

You roll onto your side to look up at him, shrugging. “You’re home early.” It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. 

“I thought you might like to try out my new toy with me.” 

Your initial reaction to this statement is dread. 

The look on your face must tickle his funny bone. He throws back his head and laughs like a real Bond villain. “Not that kind of toy, y/n. Get up.”

You push to your feet, gingerly closing the book you’d been reading. He tilts his head to peruse the cover. “Tai Chi Theory? Forgot I even had that one.”

“It’s kind of interesting,” you play off, reluctant to tip your hand. In fact, you find it very interesting, especially after watching that young man Tiger Chen. You wonder how long you’d have to study, before you could get to pushing hands, the martial side of Tai Chi. 

You feel the weight of his gaze on you, and as usual, suspect you’re not fooling him one bit. He looks you up and down; you’re still in yoga pants and a tank top. “Go put on one of your new dresses,” he tells you. “Casual is fine.” 

His idea of casual and yours differ by vast degrees. 

This is when it sinks in for you: he is taking you out of the house? He watches your face light up like a lightbulb, and his smile widens slightly. “Tik tok, bunny,” he tells you, glancing at the Rolex upon his wrist. 

With a final glance at him you set your book on the table for later, and rocket out of the room. 

A large section of Donaka’s closet has been filled with clothes–for you. Nothing you had any hand in picking out, of course, although you hate to admit…more of them hit the mark than don’t. In your rush you settle on a sleeveless floral Carolina Herrera shirt dress with an A line skirt, and semi-sensible platform wedge sandals by Dior. It’s something you would almost select on your own–minus the three grand price tag.

Jesus H Christ on a cracker. 

Nervous, because you have no idea what he has in mind, you find yourself fidgeting in the closet mirror with a deer-in-the-headlights look. This does not improve for you, when you see him filling the doorway, his arms up on the jambs.   

“I knew that would look nice on you.”

His approval should not make you feel all warm inside, but…oh. His dark eyes in the mirror could start a fire, and you take a shaking breath. 

“Is this ok?” you ask, turning, smoothing your skirt. 

“Perfect.” 

This is when you really notice that he is wearing a khaki colored suit, with a white oxford button down, and it’s such a change from his usual grays and blacks that it almost makes your head spin. It makes him seem…less sinister, somehow, and so dapper your chest aches. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, sidling closer. 

“Nowhere, if you keep looking at me like that,” he answers with a half smile and that smoldering look that makes you weak in the knees. 

The devil shouldn’t be allowed to wear white. It’s entirely too becoming. It makes you forget too much. 

Feeling bold, maybe even a little giddy with the thought of going out, you wrap your arms around his lean torso under his jacket, tilting your head towards his. When his lips touch yours gently it feels like spring rain, like parts of you that were near death inside perk up and sigh, and you know you shouldn’t let yourself feel this way…but it’s too late. Too late by half. 

“Come on, y/n,” he says, taking your hand and tugging you to follow him.

***

You do not really know what you’re looking at, at first, when he leads you out to the circle driveway.

It’s a sports car, of course, its perfect porcelain white paint gleaming like a pearl in the sun, with brushed aluminum trim and crimson accents in the wheels. You can see hints of red leather interior peeking through the tinted windows. 

“Well?” he asks impatiently when you are quiet for too long.

“It’s gorgeous,” you admit, meaning it too.

He grins down at you in a moment of what you believe is pure, unadulterated happiness. “That’s worth 2 million dollars, I suppose.”

You almost trip, and might have bit it if he wasn’t already holding on to you. “What?”

The ‘Just kidding’ does not come. He opens the passenger side door for you with a gallant little wave. “My lady.”

You, however, pause at the door. “Donaka, I’m afraid to even touch this thing.” He was ready to spank you over just tearing a button off a shirt.

He leans on the door, smirking down at you. “Baby, do you know what the mark of true, untouchable, fuck you wealth is?”

You blink in answer. “Umm…no?”

“It’s the fact that we could destroy this thing today, and I could buy another one tomorrow just like it. And there were only 58 ever made.”

You let out a slow breath. You know he is not actually so cavalier with his expensive possessions. And the thought of having that much money to burn…it’s just obscene. Like he can read the transcript of your hesitance, he urges you further.

“Come on, bunny. Let’s have some fun.”

You look at the luxurious blood red leather inside the car. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Honey, you can put your feet on the dash if you want.” 

It feels like…he actually means it, and it’s hard to reconcile this carefree mood of his with the forbidding man you knew before. Maybe you’re the fool…but you want to believe this side of him is real. You want to believe…that you’re safe. You bite your lip, and he can see your trepidations evaporating with the rising sun. In the end, the chance to go outside the compound is too much temptation to resist. “Okay.”

“Mmm. That’s my girl.”

Hearing those words from his lips should not cross the wires in your brain the way they do. You settle down into the sculpted seat, and he closes the door gently after you. 

You notice something sitting in the floorboard at your feet. As he’s getting in you realize it's a handbag, white leather, red lining. It’s almost cute, that it matches his car. There’s a brightly printed silk scarf inside, as well as sunglasses, hand lotion, and organic lip balm. It’s funny that you didn’t even think to bring a bag, because you have no money or identification to put in it. He’s thought of everything, it seems. 

It’s all damn near sweet, is what it is, and as ever you feel the conflict of rabid want and utmost trepidation with this man. 

He starts the car, and the deep, primal rumble of the motor is like the warning grumble of a jungle cat, low and menacing. How fitting, for the man behind the wheel. 

“You’re going to want that for your hair,” he tells you, nodding at the scarf. 

“Oh?” 

He touches a button, and what you thought was a solid tinted black top slides back with seamless precision, folding somehow into the boot. 

“Holy shit.”

He laughs at your surprise, enjoying your mystification. “They told me this car can go from 0 to 100 kilometers in 2.7 seconds. Should we try it out?”

“Uh…that sounds terrifying,” you answer glibly, folding the scarf in half. Your insides lurch a little when you see Hermès printed in the corner. Then you have a heart-stopping inkling about the bag too. Gold hardware and a decorative lock, and in small gold script, there it is. $30,000 sitting at your feet, minimum. 

Don’t panic. Stay calm.

You can’t help but think that if you had that kind of money to throw around, you would give it to Mei for her sister, and not spend it on a Birkin, or a special edition supercar, or a designer dress that you were pretty sure you could find a lookalike of at Target.

He’s watching these thoughts play across your face with a small smile. You’re sure he knows the gist of them, if not the exact translation. You realize he was right, when he told you so unfalteringly that he knows you better than anyone. 

Fine, you think, trying to put some steel in your spine. Bitching about the price of these gifts to indulge your guilt will get you nothing in the end. You decide that you are going to enjoy your day, so that he enjoys his day, and then you are going to ask him again about Mei tomorrow. Honey over vinegar. 

Flow bitch flow.  

As if on cue, the wound on the inside of your thigh aches as you shift in your seat. It’s not infected, but it’s taking a long time to heal. He lets you wash it, but no ointment is allowed. He wants it to scar–and he’s going to get his wish, the manipulative bastard. 

You look around the interior of the car, admiring the undulating white leather dragon detail sewn into the upholstery between your seats. “This is way cooler than the Lamborghini,” you affirm, winning the smug pleasure you sought. 

“I thought it might appeal to you.”

“Um…what is it?” You don't recognize the stylized logo on the dash. 

He smirks at you, as though for some reason it pleases him that you don’t know. 

“This is a Bugatti Veyron, sweetheart.”

You think you’ve heard of that…in a Lana del Rey song.

Then, like he can’t help himself, he adds, “Year of the Dragon edition.” He lifts his eyebrows as he says this, and it hits you like a shovel–he’s being cute. He seems to get so much enjoyment out of giving you the specs–it’s ridiculously endearing, even if he is mansplaining.

“I see. Well…I shouldn’t like it, but I’m afraid I do,” you begrudgingly admit.

This admission makes him laugh out loud. “I don’t think you realize it yet, but you have expensive taste.” 

You shrug, even while it eats at you inside. “I think you mean I have good taste,” you counter, tracing his long fingers lightly where his hand rests on the console between you. He opens his paw in invitation, and you lace your fingers with his. As his grasp closes upon your smaller hand you can’t help but feel like you have sealed something between the two of you. His heavy gaze upon you only reinforces this impression. 

The corner of his mouth ticks up, as though he senses your trepidation deep down. He doesn’t taunt you though, simply stepping on the gas. The car roars, and you are racing off into the warm embrace of a beautiful South China day.

***

As you drive the winding roads of Hong Kong island, the lush landscape on either side and the glittering blue sea stretching off into the distance, you think you finally understand Donaka Mark’s predilection for high-performing sports cars. These roads are made for such machines, or vice versa, the low slung car hugging the curves with ease. Donaka is a good driver, despite the speed, and you strangely find yourself relaxing for the first time in you don’t know how long, enjoying the ride. This man doesn’t have a death wish. He’s not going to do anything stupid, so you sit back and revel in the breeze, riding the wind with your hand out the window like you used to when you were a child. 

Out the corner of your eye you realize he’s watching you with a small smile, and for once he doesn’t look sinister or conniving. He looks content, and you didn’t have to sacrifice any of your mental or physical wellbeing to get him there.

Miracles happen every day.  

He also looks unfairly handsome behind the wheel of this speed machine, and you can’t help but sigh to yourself. You suppose you could certainly be doing worse with your time. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, curious, but in no hurry. 

“On a little adventure. Have you seen the south end of Tai Tam Road yet?” 

You shake your head. Anytime you took the bus to the Central district from Shek O you just went north. “I haven’t seen any of that part of the island,” you admit. You’d wanted to check out the beaches, but just never got around to it. There was a lot in Hong Kong you had wanted to do, before the necessity arose to try to get the hell out of Dodge. 

“Then today’s your lucky day.” 

You think that might be true in more ways than one. At the juncture he turns left, heading south, and you are happily quiet as you take in the views of the lush mountains along the winding road. You roar over the narrow two lane of the dam of the reservoir, and you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the cooler air. It’s all so stunning, and over-the-top as it is, this is a pretty epic way to take it all in. 

Donaka catches you smiling to yourself, and squeezes your hand in his. 

“Was it difficult, getting used to driving on the left?” you ask. 

“Who says I had to get used to it?” he counters with a little smile. 

“I guess I just assumed you’re American,” you admit, mostly from the way he talks. “You’re too evil to be Canadian.” 

This makes him laugh out loud, delighted. “You might be surprised, darling.” 

He gives you nothing, and you wonder if he encourages the mystery because he left a life behind as a wanted man, or simply because he enjoys the cloak and dagger of it. You realize that you’ve kind of invented this persona of wickedness for him from gut instinct and what little clues you’ve gathered, but you know nothing for certain. Donaka might be a perfectly upstanding businessman–as upstanding as any multi-millionaire ever can be. Mightn’t he???

You just can’t bring yourself to believe it.

“So…how did you come to live in China?”

He tilts his head, looking over at you with amusement. “Are we playing twenty-questions today?” 

“Just trying to get to know you better.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like we’re living together now or anything…” It’s the most politic way you can think of, to describe kidnapping, forced cohabitation, and temporary insanity brought on by the most thrilling quasi-consentual sex of your life.

His lips twist as you think he’s trying to suppress a grin. Instead he presses a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingers, and drives in silence for at least a kilometer before answering, “I came to China a long time ago, to find my father.” 

Sensing the weight of this admission, you hesitate to go forward. But there is that burning curiosity in the back of your brain; you so badly want to know. “Did you find him?”  

“Eventually.” You wait for elaboration, but the silence stretches on. You realize this is not a happy subject for him, and you congratulate yourself on your talent for always pinpointing the exact wrong thing to say to ruin a beautiful day. This is why you prefer writing conversations down to having them in real time. You always, inevitably, unfailingly, fuck up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, sinking into your seat, looking out over the stunning landscape rolling before you and feeling incredibly stupid. Once again, it seems, you’ve forgotten your place. Mistresses don’t ask these things, do they? You’re supposed to be pretty and fuckable and entertaining, and don’t forget your role on the odd days when it feels like you might mean more than that to him. 

“Don’t be,” he forgives you with a grace that absolutely surprises you. “I appreciate that you want to know me, y/n. But there are things you don’t want to know. Do you understand?”

“Yes and no,” you admit cautiously. “Are these things I don’t want to know, or things you don’t want me to know?” 

He smiles ruefully at that. “Both.”

Maybe you already knew that, deep down. You try to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. That you’re not staying any longer than you have to, no matter what he says to scare you, or beguile you, and no matter how it seems that he’s being sweet because it has to be a manipulative lie. That someday you’re going to get your opportunity, and you’re going to bounce. And most important of all: you are not falling in love with this man. You’re telling yourself all of this…but the foremost part of your brain, whatever is responsible for what you are doing now, in this moment–isn’t paying one bit of attention. It likes this handsome monster of a man beside you, in his beautiful suit, with his wicked fast car. It likes where you are right now, and it’s telling your longterm survival instincts to fuck the fuck off. 

His thumb strokes yours gently on the center console between you, back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t had an easy life, y/n,” he finally admits. “I learned early on that if you want anything worth having, you have to take it, because no one will hand it to you.” It’s possible that you hold your breath at hearing this, thinking about the way he up and took you. “Not that he meant to, but the one good thing my father taught me, was the lengths the rich will go to, to protect their wealth. I’ve made a career capitalizing on that, and it’s gone well for me.” 

You suppose you can’t argue with that. 

Vague as his admission was, it does explain certain things about Donaka Mark to you. It almost startles you, when he flashes that smile that is so much like a tiger showing its fangs. “And now I know you will pick apart every little syllable I’ve just said, trying to get the most information you can out of it.” 

It’s so spot on that you look away, embarrassed by how ridiculous you are, and how well he knows it too. But he squeezes your hand, calling your attention back to him. He doesn’t say anything more, but the warm way he looks at you…it should be illegal. You’re not sure you’ll ever be free, when he turns the full power of that smoldering gaze upon you. 

Inexplicably flushed, you look at the road ahead. There’s a straight away coming up, the azure sea beyond glittering like a blanket of brilliant cut diamonds. “I thought you said this car was fast?” you challenge, and even though you know he knows you’re changing the subject, he rises to your challenge with a smirk, and a roar of the engine as the Bugatti rockets forward down the highway. 

You laugh with unfettered joy as he passes a slower car, slicing back into your lane with a foot to spare in front of an oncoming truck, and you decide that maybe the both of you have gone a little mad amidst this thing that has grown between you, taken hold of your sanity like a strangler vine. 

all chapters.

____________________

*the car is a Bugatti Veyron, Wei Long Grand Sport 2012 Year of the Dragon edition. You can google it if you want more specs. I’m not big into cars or anything but I thought it was pretty frickin’ cool. 😂

The route they take on Hong Kong island: (I love maps I'm sorry 😆)

[vivziepop-hazbin-over]

vivziepop does not care for the actual victims of sa/r@pe. or at least it really does seem that way.

i was sa’d and i do not feel as if angel dust is good representation. ‘poison’ felt hypersexualized/romanticized. if you are a victim and you feel represented, that is perfectly okay! i will admit, the song is good at representing how some may feel like they cant leave theyre abuser or in this case, are ‘addicted’, but angel is just not it for me.

vivzie finds r@pe funny/romantic/sexy/WHATEVER. we know this already. moxie was r@ped in spring broken as a cutaway bit. sir pentious was r@ped in hazbin hotel. blitzø is forced to have sex with stolas so he can do his job. sa/r@pe is only ever used as a plot device to move the story forward.

people who are working on the show have an sa fetish. vivzie has a public playlist on her old zoophobia channel titled ‘favorites’ with SA VIDEOS ON IT. i will NOT stop talking about that. that is fucking VILE. and do NOT get me started on loser baby because thats its own thing.

[prince-liest]

Do you think Vox still has any sort of soft spot for the 1950s?

I like to think so! It's a fun idea to me that he presents himself as the face of modern media and technological advancement, but his general themes and aesthetic are much more 50s than they are 2020s. If anything, Velvette strikes me as the modern social media innovator, or the TikTok kid to Vox's news channel talk show host. Which is very in-theme with her original pre-canon role as his protege!

Also, I think it's funny if Alastor vs Vox is presented by Vox as the old vs the new and meanwhile Velvette and Valentino both consider Vox the old man of the group. Like, sure, his face is a flatscreen now instead of a CRT, but who even watches landscape videos anymore?

Give me a Vox who is genuinely offended (and startled at his own offense) when he realizes that the movies he considers to be great art are the same thing that Velvette refuses to watch because who the fuck has time for a video that isn't under 90 seconds? (Cue Alastor laughing his ass off in the background.)

(I suspect his reaction would be to throw himself into the newer stuff anyway because he's a sellout at heart, but it'd be fun to watch the transition from this genuinely bringing him joy in his success to being something he has to grit his teeth through. In the end, everyone has a norm that they find comfortable.)

[sapphicselkie]

today is my birthday and tommyinnit has dropped a depressing banger

and i decided to transcribe the very quick, hard to read text boxes that occur between 2:50 - 3:13

#1: If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web. So little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.

#2: [something about being angry -- the text is too hard to make out]

#3: A Tribute To Minecraft, The Great Potato War, TheOriginalAce's Q&A's, Ludwig's 2020 streams, SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.

#4: Status is irrational and nature is cyclical. It's attention porn. Don't get addicted to it. It's nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know.

#5: When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. All along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. This is the only good bit of this. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit.

#6: I can't watch back my old videos because everyone in them wasn't who they said they were. Do you know how bad this makes me feel. Do you know how sad I have felt all year.

#7: How could anyone possibly find out who they are when you are all immersed in this needless, self-indulgent spiral of instant gratification and distraction. This is not good for you.

#8: [upside down text] the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao I don't think I trust anyone here I don't think anyone trusts anyone here.

#9: yeah i know it's too much like bo burnham. It won't be in a year though. In a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, ok?

#10: I used to feel like I was just doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again.

#11: I just don't want to slip back into who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That really was wrong. How did I possibly end up there?

[invisiblequeen]

For @changingplumbob 's BC: Nephinae Orme...REVAMPED! (ALL IN)

Age: Young Adult

Pronouns: She/Her

Orientation: Bisexual

Hometown: Evergreen Harbor

Current Town: San Myshuno

Aspiration: Master Maker

Traits: Outgoing, Hot-Headed, Maker

Likes: Blue, Brown, Orange, Green, Hipster Fashion, Rocker Fashion, Preppy Fashion, Handiness, Fitness, Rock Climbing, Gardening, Dancing, Singing, Comedy, Cerebral Sims, Family-Motivated Sims, Hard-Working Sims, Idealist Sims, Pet Enthusiasts, Funny Sims, Spirited Sims, World Music, Ranch Music, Hip Hop Music, METAL Music, Alternative Music, Singer-Songwriter Music, Americana Music, Retro Music

Dislikes: Fishing, Programming, Video Gaming, Egotistical Sims, Rascals, Ambitionless Sims, Spooky Music, Strange Tunes, Winter Holiday Music

Miss Orme is not just a master of her own fate, but a master of the handmade arts. From her childhood in Evergreen Harbor to her adulthood in San Myshuno, Nephinae has dedicated her long spindly fingers to fixing leaks, assembling desks and crafting unique wall hangings and throws for half the price of those snotty landgraab home decor lines. Her mom's words, not hers!

When she isn't building with her bare hands, she indulges in her other favorite hobby-THRIFTING. Ever wondered where all her mismatched patterns came from? Ever wonder why she can't tell you where to get her skirt? Because YOU CAN'T! But don't worry, she'll help you find the right pieces if you ask nicely. She also likes planting succulents around her apartment (one of which is a gift from her dad's garden back home) and dancing with said flora to to a Simdiohead album at max volume.

Her love life is...well...comprised of fleeting passionate flings that never made it past a year, from the two-month FwB neighbor to the year-long situationship that nearly took her out of the dating pool for good. But Nephinae is nothing if not stubborn, so she threw herself into Gemma's BC with no hesitation, just to show they-who-should-not-be-named that they didn't turn her off love.

So here she is, still open, still ready, still willing to try. She's a busybody with big dreams of opening her own crafts and repair shop, and after a string of memorable but short-lived flings, Nephinae Orme is looking, once again, for her perfect match!

WHAT DO WE THINK, @changingplumbob ?

[proship-culture-is]

Proship culture is being annoyed at how antis always try to dictate what someone is allowed to do or not in fiction..

"Uhmmmmm, you're not allowed to enjoy that in fiction because [insert any reason]."

I find something very concerning here, and it's antis using the words "you CAN/CANNOT."

And I ask them: who are you to police what others do with their imagination and freedom of speech? Now that’s something antis actually can’t do because, the very moment they attempt to dictate what someone can or can’t create in fiction, they’re contradicting the very concept of freedom.

You know where there are actual laws policing what people think, say, or do as art? Totalitarian dictatorships, like communist countries such as North Korea. Having freedom of speech means people are free to think and say whatever they want, as long as they don’t break any law.

I’ve been an OC creator since I was 6 or 7 years old. And I’ve been a WWII OC creator since I was 13. I currently have a bunch of WWII OCs. These OCs include Nazis, Soviets, and even more controversial characters. Of course, I don’t support Nazis or communists. And of course, I don’t condone WWII. The reason I have these WWII OCs is because I like history. And it’s genuinely funny to me when antis come up to me and say I’m not allowed to make WWII OCs. Antis always say, “Making Nazi OCs makes you a Nazi!” They also talk about how fiction genuinely harms people.

Any type of fiction such as books, games, shows, ect, do not harm people. You know who used to think books harmed people? The people of Nazi Germany. Those who worshipped Hitler. Yes, that’s correct. The people that antis are comparing me to are the ones who believed what antis believe and try to force others to follow: the idea that fiction harms people. The Nazis genuinely thought fiction (books, in their context) harmed people, so they decided to burn them because they didn’t agree with them.

As a person born and living in Austria, it’s incredibly insensitive and disturbing to be called a Nazi, especially considering Hitler was Austrian too. Not to mention how incredibly dangerous it is to water down the meanings of words. I don’t condone Hitler’s actions or support his ideology; therefore, I am not a Nazi. I’m just an OC creator who finds WWII history interesting.

I’ve had people telling me that my OCs are illegal because Nazi topics are taboo in Austria. And as someone who actually lives in Austria and meets Austrians every day: They’re not. My OCs would be considered illegal if they portrayed Hitler or Nazis in a positive light, which they do not. My Nazi OCs are portrayed as villains. They are portrayed as the bad people. Therefore, my OCs are not illegal. I’ve talked to Austrian adults who are educated about this topic. They all agreed my OCs are fine as long as they don’t romanticize or glorify Nazis - which, again, they do not. If non-glorified Nazi-themed fiction were really illegal in Austria, I wouldn’t be able to watch shows with Nazi characters on TV. All books containing Nazi characters would be banned. All the video games with Nazi tanks and planes would be illegal to play. Guess what? They’re not. Because it’s fiction.

To the antis seeing this: be not so quick to dispense judgment about who can or can’t do things. You may not want to find yourself, in the near future, with fingers pointed at you simply because you told people to stop enjoying something just because you don’t like it. Also, stop harassing people. Their fiction didn’t do anything to you. You just can’t handle people having harmless fun.

I’m sorry for the long text. It’s just that, as an autistic OC creator with a special interest in WWII, it’s sickening to me that I get called a Nazi for simply having fun with my fictional characters. I’m just so tired of antis dictating what others can and cannot do. I genuinely appreciate everyone who took the time to read this.

☆

[gertritude-art]

HEARTBREAKING: local food blogger thinks it's funny to put on a rude persona in their recipe videos

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A new challenger approaches (slowly)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

one of my favorite things about zedaph is that on a server full of people that find strange and oft-overlooked minecraft mechanics or rare events and then see just how far they can push them in the name of spectacle or efficiency or world-breaking, zed is over here finding these mechanics in order to do the weirdest things he can think of in as entertaining a manner as possible

like i 100% have faith in zedaph's theoretical ability to be just as efficient or spectacular or world-breaking. if he wanted to do that stuff, i trust that he absolutely could. but thats so far from being his priority. instead, hes going to spend around a week of irl time focused entirely on eventually having the good luck to spawn in something insanely rare so that he can convert it into something even rarer, the result of which being something that 99% of the server reacts with complete and utter shock that it even exists in the first place, just because its zany and funny and he wanted to. and i love that

[echosong971]

i wish every sniper on the roof in this game a very [metal pipe sound]

[aru-art]

t4t misery

[jvzebel-x]

here's an update for all the "tOuRiSm iS fOr ThE pEoPlE" fucks. always remember that the second anyone steps foot on that land in the name of "tourism" or any other haole institution, that is colonizing&that person is a fucking explicit modern colonizer who made the conscious decision to be one and has spent a lot of fucking money on that trip to get their title. only that kine want more of their kin there-- don't pretend that shit is for anyone else.

drop dead of spontaneous combustion specifically, not even the sharks would want that pīlau fucking meat.

[mika-you-nerd]

Duality of man

Trust me I am super normal about this guy