An apparently unpopular opinion: if you've jumped aboard the 'hating any creative project that pokes fun at its own genre' movement, you're missing out on a lot of stellar content.

No, a book making fun of its own genre conventions is not automatically a scornful, irony-poisoned defilement of this genre. More often than you might think, the creators of this content are hardcore consumers of this genre! Cheeky subversion and mockery often comes from a place of love!

If you have read a thousand romance books and noted the cliches, then you subvert these cliches - or lampshade them - in amusing ways in your romance book... it is not, in fact, a statement of 'superiority' over other romance writers! And it certainly does not signify a 'lack of respect' for the genre.

I think some of you need to accept that sometimes people are going to poke fun at the things you love, and that is okay - including other people who love it.

anyway, if anyone tells you 'this way of creating art/interacting with a genre you love is INHERENTLY BAD and you should NOT DO IT', you should be very, very wary of that person's criticism and advice.

We all got that one vassal who's read a few too many warrior tales... Trying to get a little freaky with it on the down low... Won't shut up about his loyalty unto death... Saying shit like "my liege, I am your blade...." Bitch I sent you to guard my isolated holdings in the eastern provinces for a reason!!!!!!! #REBLOG!!!!!

when i was a kid we only had windows 95 and we had to sharpen the points of our mouse cursors with pocket knives to make them precise enough to click things reliably

They are fucking ugly in person. You really gotta marvel at them in the flesh. Pictures don't do it justice just how abominable this thing is.

I saw a video of someone gold plating their cybertruck and they thought they were so cool but it just came off as asshole

actually my favourite part of glass onion was that even when all the lights were off, you could still see what was happening, which is good for a movie

Fanfiction author writing about a guy having his first gay experience

This was nothing like his affairs with women. Women, with their soft curves, their wet heat, their velvet skin. Joe was all harsh angles in comparison. his XY chromosomes turned his skin to steel. every part of his body was made out of geometric shapes. gripping his hips was nothing like gripping the soft, petite, feminine, plush hips of a woman. joe’s lips were rough and chapped, unlike his ex-girlfriends lips, which were made out of chapstick. his cock was an actual tree trunk with bark and lichen and all

This is better than any Marvel movie I have ever seen

If We Commented On Modern Fashion Videos Like We Do Historical Fashion Videos

"I mean, it's pretty, but how did you even use the BATHROOM in that?! GROOOOOOSS!!!!"

"things to wear while coughing your lungs out from COVID and wildfire smoke and trying to avoid your fascist neighbor lol"

"yikes, think about how they all had to wear Spanx two sizes too small, though!"

[video shows reasonably nice everyday clothing] "but that's just what RICH PEOPLE wore! not REAL PEOPLE!!!"

[model is a woman of color] "um sweety only WHITE women wore that back then :/"

"did you know that [confidently incorrect, absolutely insane statement about the 2020s that the poster will then argue vehemently about in the replies]"

[the intimate scene in the fanfiction where my lover kisses each of my scars as I whisper what each is from]

"Fell down the stairs. Mosquito bite I scratched too much. Cardboard box cut. Burned on a tiki-themed appetizer tray. Mosquito bite I scratched too much. Oven rack. Mosquito bite I scratched too much. Mosquito bite I scratched too much. Mosquito b - "

“Her body is a map of scars, hardly an inch unblemished by a reminder of some hardship past: Not knowing the church potluck would be outside. Looking at her phone while on the stairs. Mowing the lawn. She still hasn’t told me how she managed to slit her whole wrist on that cardboard box, but someday when she’s ready to tell me, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“My eyes fall on a jagged white line across her palm, which I nearly overlooked. ‘And this one?’ I ask.

Her eyes cast away. For a moment, I think she won't speak. Finally, she murmurs, ‘The lid of the toilet tank broke in half but I just stuck the broken lid back on the toilet for weeks. Then one day when I was getting into the shower, the faucet knob broke, and I couldn’t turn the water off and then I hip-checked the toilet tank, and the broken lid fell off and through my hand, and I was naked and bleeding and the water wouldn’t turn off so I just stood there screaming for like five minutes before I could decide what to deal with first.’

Slowly, I bend forward and kiss the scar. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I tell her. ‘Just like you.’“

idk why but i feel like being a punk is for he/hims and doing ballet is for she/hers

Bibliography

Interview With The Vampire daily where over the course of 185 years you get emailed the events of the novel in the same timeline as it happens to the characters in small chunks

This is Thelockpickinglaywer and what I have for you today is something very interesting. As you can tell by the agonizing screams of the damned, I have recently left the mortal coil and, upon arriving at my destination, was informed that I did not qualify for residence. I was taken by an angel of the Lord to the mouth of Hell, and when the angel left, he closed this rather large red door and sealed it with a divine key. Although I’ve never seen this particular model of lock before, I’ve spent some time investigating the cylinder with this small shard of bone. By sticking it in the back of the keyway and slowly pulling it out, I can tell that this is a five-pin tumbler lock, that can easily be single-pin picked using this shed demon scale as a tensioner tool. Let’s try that right now. Alright, nothing on one. Nothing on two. Three is binding firmly, click out of that. Nothing on four. Five is binding, little click there, back to one. Once again, nothing. Two is binding, and we’ve dropped into a false set. Little click out of three. Nothing on four. Little click on one, counter-rotation on two, and we got this open. Okay folks, I think the main takeaway here is that no matter how much faith you place in a mechanism designed to ensure your safety, be it spiritual or physical, there is always a state in which it can fail. In any case, thank you for watching. Memento mori, and I’ll see you next time.

The coronavirus that spread across the United States and became a pandemic in March 2020 will go down as one of the most difficult times in our nation’s history. Nearly every American experienced significant disruptions to their daily lives, with financial issues and physical isolation often leaving permanent scars. It was a terrible time, and one we will never forget. Today, however, things are looking up. President Biden recently declared that Covid is no longer a national emergency. What does that mean? Well, I’ll tell you.

We are post-pandemic. We are immortal. Those still alive cannot die.

It is time to bask in the knowledge that we have defeated the feverish viral scourge. Go forth without fear, because those malevolent RNA intruders can harm you no longer. You are the chosen Americans. The virus has been banished from every corner of our great nation, even stupid fucking Arkansas, who never listened to me, and you have emerged from the other side as survivors. Join me in celebrating mask-less in a very crowded room, my friends, for nothing—nothing—can take your life now.

Full story.