not remotely funny

Watch out, Freddy! It’s the big bad demon guy!

He’s surely going to wreck your car, just like he did to everyone els–

…oh? What’s that you’ve got there?

A remote, at a frequency to override his car’s wireless controls! Brilliant!

Your random button-mashing is sending him out of control! Quickly, knock him off while you can!

Like, seriously Freddy, do it. He’s trying to kill you!

Uh… Freddy? Hello? It’s only minorly inconveniencing him the way you’re doing it right now….

Why are you still… look, just push your thumb half an inch to the right, and hold it for two seconds. He’ll go off the cliff.

Demon guy goes over the ledge, which activates the parachute every car has in this race, just in case he isn’t really the monster you think he is… it’s safe either way.

…he’s getting away, Fred. 

Seriously, buddy, he was a second away from killing Shaggy and Scooby in a huge fireball yesterday, and is trying very hard to kill you right this second

You might want to do something about this.

Oh, look, he was able to calmly walk back to the drivers’ seat.

Right before presumably spending a few minutes futzing around with his seat settings.

Oh, look, he rammed into the Mystery Machine as hard as he could.

Oh, look, the force somehow made you throw the remote out the window.

Oh golly gee, would you look at that.

IF ONLY THERE HAD BEEN SOME WAY OF AVOIDING THIS TERRIBLE, LIFE-THREATENING HAPPENSTANCE.

#realmysteriesofScoobyDoo

Markiplier Gothic

-The lucky flannel has returned. The lucky flannel will always return. You cannot seem to destroy the lucky flannel. No matter how many times you steal it and burn it in the woods behind your house, it always makes its way back to him. You have tried to warn him many times, warn him that the luck comes with a price, warn him that the flannel will one day demand that all debts are paid; he has not heard your warnings, or perhaps he is ignoring them. Either way, you sadly conclude, it is too late. He is too far gone now.
You stop trying to steal the lucky flannel.

-“Herb lore,” you hear one, solitary voice chirp. It is a voice you do not recognize.
“Herb lore.” Responds another.
A cacophony of voices suddenly surround you. “Herb lore, herb lore, HERB LORE!” They chant, although not quite in unison.
You do not know where these voices are coming from, nor do you remember when you started chanting with them. With each passing repetition, you forget a little more about the life you lived before herb lore. You keep chanting anyway.

- @markiplier uses a slightly different voice for approximately 4 and a half seconds in a video. By the time you click away and open a new tab, Tumblr has created a character out of this voice. They have named him Kevin. Kevin now has four ask blogs and twelve fan blogs, seven of which have some variant of the phrase “protection squad” in their usernames. One of them is dedicated solely to NSFW KevinxAntisepticeye fan fiction. It already has 300 followers.

-Every once and a while, you hear the Ancient Ones howling outside your window in the middle of the night. “COLA AND MEAL PLEASE, NO BREAD,” they shriek. You do not know what this means. You are too afraid to ask.

-“Markiplier’s fanbase is a bunch of 12 year olds,” you hear them say. You look around, but you can’t see any. You realize that you can’t remember the last time you saw a 12 year old at all. What does a 12 year old look like? How long have you been older than 12? Were you ever 12?
You turn to the person nearest to you. It is a middle-aged man. He has a wife and two children. He works in accounting.
“How old are you?” You ask.
“12,” he replies.
You scream.

-“Subscribe for More!” reads the cheerful font at the end of the compilation video. It is not a suggestion.

-A blonde woman in an alien-themed sweatshirt passes you in the grocery store. As she walks around your cart, her arm brushes against a six pack of Corona.
“I CAN’T DRINK THAT, OR I WILL LITERALLY DIE,” a voice booms, the noise crackling in the air like lightning. The woman glances at you and you nod, confirming that, yes, you heard it too.

-“Shares are a little low this month,” he tells you. Something about his tone fills you with a strange, primal fear. You share his videos with your friends. You share them with family. You write the URLS on pieces of paper and staple them to trees.
“Shares are a little low this month.”
You’re positive it’s a warning this time.

-You go on a date with Markiplier. “You look so familiar. Have we met?” he asks. You decide not to tell him that you have. You have done all of this before. You have always been on this date with Markiplier.
There are now two Markipliers. You are holding them both at gunpoint. You know that the one on the left is the real one, because you have done this before. You have always been doing this.
You shoot the one on the left anyway.
Afterwards, you go out for ice cream.
“Bonjour!” The man behind the counter smiles. His eyes are not yet filled with quiet desperation. He must not know about the time loop.
You go on a date with Markiplier.

“How’s school going?” Tony asked as he walked besides Peter. 

Nodding nonchalantly, “It’s going good, you know, same old, same old.” 

“Right, all that millennial stuff.” Stopping in his tracks, “Say,” putting a rough grip on Peter’s shoulder, he squinted his eyes. “Do you know a [Y/N] [L/N] by any chance?” Shaking his head, Tony scoffed. “Of course you, you’ve taken her on what? Four or five dates?”

“Uh, yeah, why?” Peter started to get a little uncomfortable. He hated that Tony kept tabs on him. 

“Why? Oh, nothing other than the fact that she’s my daughter.” 

“Wha? What? Daughter?!” He sputtered, not being able to breathe at the fact that he had been seeing [Y/N] for the past few months now. “But, but, uh, what? How? I mean her last name-”

“-is [L/N]. I know, she took her mother’s maiden name.” Looking around him, sounding slightly offended, “Said that she didn’t want people to know we were related.” Clearing his throat, “Since [Y/N] didn’t tell me not to say anything, I feel obligated to clear the air.” 

“Clear the air?” 

“Yeah, you know, the rules of dating my daughter.” 

“Mr. Stark. She doesn’t even know I’m Spider-Man…..” 

“She doesn’t?” Frowning, Tony shrugged. “Well, she’s going to be one pissed off puppy when she finds out her boyfriend works for me.” Patting his back, he snickered. “If you think my temper is bad? Boy, you better take shelter. She’s a perfect hellacious balance of myself and her mother.” Moving away from him, Tony smirked. “Tell you, what. I’ll ‘clear the air’ with you after you tell her who you are because I might not have to waste my breath with it.” Clicking his tongue and winking, he backed away slowly before leaving the teenager standing terrified. “Good luck, kid.” 

Peter gulped, “Why me? The one girl who finds me remotely funny and attractive, it has to be his daughter? Why? What did I do?” 

youtube

If anybody asks you what Marble Hornets is, show them this.

My first instinct was to make some joking post along the lines of “Well there goes my military career”, but I think we’re all just a little too hyperaware of the ramifications of Trump’s tweets for anything to be even remotely funny. We’re all painfully aware that this isn’t about military budget, or any level of attempting to improve our armed forces. It’s blatant systemic transphobia for the sake of transphobia. It’s just a means for the government to have an excuse to further discriminate against transgender people.

Not only is this devastating to the thousands of transgender people serving in the military right now, but it’s probably going to lead to a rise in hate crimes against transgender people. If Trump’s administration is endorsing transphobia, how will the bigots who support it react? I fear that it’s only going to get far worse before it gets better for us. Stay safe my friends, and stay strong.