had a fucking hilarious dream that tumblr replaced the "block" function with the far funnier "glock" function, which did the exact same thing except whenever anyone blocked you a random bullet hole, like a png of a bullet hole, would appear on your blog. discourse blogs were unreadable bc you'd go to the page and the sheer amount of bullet hole pngs stacked over the blogs obscured everything. I woke myself up laughing
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I miss the pre-New 52 Tim and Jason dynamic so much. It was basically Jason beating the fuck out of Tim well being all "nothing personal kid I just hate everything about you, your existence and the fact you're breathing right now" and Tim spitting up blood going "what if your mother was a whore, kill yourself" and Jason just deciding right then and there that this kid is his favourite person.
Then it just turned into a Tom and Jerry hunt across the city where Jason keeps hitting Tim with the "join me, be my robin" and Tim kicks him in the balls.
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Tumblr would literally rather arbitrarily delete the accounts of trans women on this site with uncharacteristic amounts of speed than address even one genuine instance of harassment. They've already lost one harassment lawsuit and they immediately decided it was more worth their time to continue on the exact same path. They KNOW what they're doing. With staff like this, the only way to see genuine change on this site is going to be to make it more of a problem for them to not address this issue.
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instead of exterminating rats, the state of New York should hire a rat trainer to round them all up and teach them to do odd jobs. they could clean up litter, scrub the manhole covers… run electrical wires. maybe do some plumbing
there should be a dedicated rat feeding station in every subway. if you pass out drunk on the bus a squadron of 50-60 purebred albino rats should carry you gently down the street back to your home. i know this may all sound rather infeasible—but if you hire me, the pied piper,
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Edit: I see a ton of answers saying "torture porn" and some asking why I didn't add it. Torture porn isn't a subgenre of horror. Every single horror film that yall describe as torture porn falls into an actual subgenre (usually slasher/splatter or body horror, though there are exceptions). Torture porn was a term made to describe the rise in realistic brutality in horror in the early 2000s. If you don't like the brutality or gore in horror, that's fine. But that's not a subgenre. Every single one of these could be incredibly gorey and brutal, as well as can be the opposite of that. Torture porn is not a subgenre in itself
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in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!
they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.
they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.
you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.
but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.
where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.
and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?
doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.
but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.
what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.
just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?
your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.
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New year, new deathclaugust, continuing on at twenty three with Gemstone!
A very rare process of living mineralization, and one that has few seen specimens as most never make it to hatching due to their organs being petrified. Lucky survivors only have it affect scale growth.
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Every culture in all of human history was so right about carbs and fat together being a blessing upon earth. Eating bread with butter knowing I am partaking in one of humanities biggest shared joys
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