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#2024 money makeing
mensdreamlifestyle · 4 months
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royalarchivist · 4 months
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Ironmouse: Part of the reason why I love this server so much is because everybody's so nice. Everyone! Like, every single person is super nice! And it's like- it's like, genuine nice, it's not like fake niceness. [...] I've literally talked to almost everybody at least once like outside of the QSMP. We've talked on Discord, people regularly check in on me, we get in group chats and we play games like outside of the server... You don't really find that sort of connection all the time with people.
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Ironmouse recently talked about her experience on QSMP, and how kind all the members are. I'm posting the entire conversation instead of cutting it up like I usually would because I really enjoyed hearing her thoughts on the server.
[ Subtitle Transcript ]
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Ironmouse: Honestly, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I did. He's so nice, he's so- he's always been super nice to me. He's been so nice, I– part of the reason why I- I love this server so much is because everybody's so nice. Everyone! Like, every single person is super nice! And it's like- it's like, genuine nice, it's not like fake niceness. You know how sometimes like– you always hear like, "Oh yeah, you know–" when–
Ironmouse: Whenever you like, join like a new thing, right? Whenever you like join like a new thing, you always worry, 'cuz you always think: "Oh, are the people gonna like me? Are they gonna be nice to me? What if- What if- you know, what if this, what if that?" But everybody like genuinely was nice when I first came by, and everybody has been so nice to me– not just in the game, but outside of the game, and–
Ironmouse: Something special about the QSMP is like... People wanna be your friend like outside of the game? Like, I've literally talked to ev– almost– almost everybody at least once like outside of the QSMP, like... We've talked on Discord, people like regularly check in on me, and like we get in group chats and like we- we play games like outside of the server, and it's just like... You don't really find that sort of connection all the time with people? You know what I mean? It's very– it's very not common when you go on like, a content creator-like server or stuff like that, you know? You'll get like one or two people that you get close to and stuff, but like... Everybody is SO nice, and everybody's been so nice to me, and I can't tell you how many people like, wished me– not just like wished me happy birthday, or like wished- said, "Oh, you know, hap- Merry Christmas!" dadadada, it's like genuinely like... Asked how I'm doing, and like talk to me, and like... Just like– I dunno, it's just like so- so- it's so wonderful. Ironmouse: Like, I get that with VShojo a lot, like– we're all like besties, and we all like talk all the time, but I feel like it's different, 'cuz like VShojo– we're VShojo, we're like– we're our own group, but this is like... You know... You don't expect this sorta thing when you get invited to like be on some- be a part of something, you know? And it's- and it's been so– it's been so wonderful and everybody's been so GENUINELY nice to me, and I- I appreciate everybody on the server so much, and they're just some of the nicest people that I've ever met ever, and it's just–
Ironmouse: It just warms my heart, and I'm just really– really like, thankful to be a part of something so great, and something so positive! Because like, everybody's so supportive! Like– the time when like, I didn't like– I- I- I had a moment where it's like I– do you guys remember in December when I- I was not around a lot? And like, I had to take breaks and all this stuff and it turns out it was like the concert stuff? They all like would message me regularly, like, we would all keep up with each other, and we would all talk. And I remember telling them about like, how much stress I was under, and like all the- all the pressures of the concert and stuff, and– and they were cheering, and- and- and they were just so... so kind to me, it was just so– so sweet, and- and you know, I was in a group chat with a- with a few people, and they were all just so excited and- and- just super nice, and- and very- very sweet, and it's just– and it's just very– I'm sorry if I'm rambling! It's just...
Ironmouse: I dunno! I- I- I just enjoy being here, and I enjoy hanging out with everybody, and... it's just nice to meet really good people. You don't really find that. You don't find that sort of thing all the time. Don't get me wrong– it's not like I haven't met a lot of good people, like– I just feel like this whole like, my whole like– Ever, like– My streaming journey, I've just been nothing but surprised at the goodness of people? Don't get me wrong– I've met assholes and sht like that, and I've met- I've encountered some people that are NOT so nice. I'll never like, talk about it or whatever because that's their thing, and I'm just gonna do my thing and I don't wanna like, you know, spread any type of stupid drama or whatever the fck, but like... I'm just always surprised about how– how incredibly nice people are, and how genuine a lot of people are, and it's... It- it's just nice, especially since like– You're used to coming from like, a certain background and a certain like, environment where it's like, you've met a lot of like fcked up mean people in your life, and you've just been around a lot of like fckery, you know? So when- when you're around stuff that's NOT fcked, it's just like, "Woah, this is crazy! Is this- is this how life is supposed to be?!" And it's just- it's just really... it's really- it's really nice. It's very nice.
Ironmouse: Yeah, it's very refreshing, that's why I- I enjoy hanging out on here, everybody's just so nice to me. And it's not just like being nice just to be on-stream, it's nice off-stream, on-stream, friendship on-stream, off-stream, it's- it's just- it's just so- it's- it's- it's wonderful. It's wonderful. And I just have to say like... man, I'm just really thankful that like... it's crazy that like I got invited to be on here and I'm just really thankful that, you know... Quackity like, reached out to me and he's- he's just been nothing but nice, everybody- everybody's just so kind. Everybody's so nice. This is something truly special.
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moonkhao · 8 months
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cozylittleartblog · 10 days
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my ACEN tip gimmick has been fulfilled, aaand i got a little carried away with it. I haven't had time to draw for myself (or at all, really??) in like two weeks, i needed to Doodle and Have Fun. ... also, i did not think he would get so many donuts. people understand the value of giving treats to fictional characters :) its what he deserves
also shoutout to snazzyskeletons who had the same Tip Theme i did. we took pictures with our tip jars together. they are adorable v
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i'm glad their vash got some donut money too :) 🍩 please check them out if you want some cute trigun stuff
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7-ate-9 · 20 days
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I can’t believe that so many people in the watcher fandom have never made a mistake and said something that they didn’t realize was in poor taste. It’s wild that so many people have never said something that people took a different way than intended. Insane that they never had to apologize for anything ever. Also crazy that apparently all these people who have never even tried to start a business seem to automatically know better about running a business that is generated solely by making free content in the hopes that people will pay money for more things. So cool that they’ve never made a mistake in their lives.
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mrsterlingeverything · 6 months
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2023 almost over what have u achieved so far?
Fingered my ass
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serendipnpipity · 2 months
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Here we go again! Final bets...
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jammatown919 · 7 months
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So according to the Have I Been Trained website, two of my older fanfictions have been used for AI training. To say I'm pissed is an understatement.
They may be fanfictions, but they're still MY work. My time, my energy, my emotions. They were not for someone else to take and use to contribute to this immense danger the livelihoods of creatives. And now I have to worry about literally everything that's on my Wattpad account potentially being scraped, because that's where those two were taken from. Fortunately it doesn't seem to have touched my Tumblr or AO3 at the moment. I think AO3 added something try to limit scraping a while back, but if this shit ever finds my Tumblr I'm throwing hands.
Before I go, quick PSA If you feed other people's work into AI, you're a thief and you are actively contributing to professional writers/artists losing their livelihoods. If you use or pay for generative AI that use work taken without consent, you're a thief and you are an active threat to the survival of creative workers.
If you're an artist, Glaze your work if you can. I heard someone made something similar for writing that I'm going to look into. If you use Glaze, consider Nightshade too, as it will damage the datasets your stolen work is put into to further discourage theft. I hope a Nightshade for writing comes out soon.
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notedchampagne · 5 months
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i know things wont change like *snap* that but i hope for this year i am forced to get new experiences. im undersocialized and overafraid and desperate to try and hit a few random benchmarks after essentially 21 years of just following a path. if i continue the way i always was ill rot along the road laid for me
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freethrows · 3 months
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Chris Paul talks about Klay Thompson in his post-game interview with NBC Sports Bay Area
Mar 1st, 2024
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oensible · 4 months
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Introduction + goals of last round draft picks Oliver Bjorkstrand 🦑 and Tomáš Hertl 🦈 // NHL All-Star Game 2024 // 2024.02.03
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julik0vatay · 18 days
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Impulse purchase, this Beast was on sale! What a creachur >.>
I went with my usual "lets throw more colorful stuff on" (and fix that mouth misprint while we're at it)
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Cute! Needs wings I think
Wait...
I have wings!!
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Lil menace >.>
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Lets name her Harper, Harpy for short!
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laz-kay · 7 days
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I have an interview tomorrow at the library I practically lived in as a child, but it’s a very part time role that I - economically - cannot afford to accept.
On the other hand, I absolutely despise my current job and wish to burn the building to the ground every damn day. Mental health over financial stability battle commences🫡
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silverstoneddd · 1 month
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tbh adrian newey should just throw in the towel and retire so everyone can be equally shit and have the flop off of the century
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Say a clear "No!" to femicide and misogyny!
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Nicole Louk Naccache, the grandmother of Shani Louk:
"My dead granddaughter can be seen in a photo that won a prestigious photo competition. And the world is silent!
The body of my granddaughter, after the heinous murderers broke her bones so that she could be put in the back of the van, this body that was so full of life, love and light just a few hours ago.
Thrown away as a victory trophy for terrorists and vile photographers."
With the photo below we want to remember Shani.
May the memory of Shani be a blessing.
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If you are a woman, say a clear "No!" to femicide and misogyny! Sign the petition and tell Nikon to renounce that despicable "award". Don't allow them to make money with pictures of murder and misogyny. Stand up for your sisters and sign the Petition here: https://www.change.org/p/demand-nikon-to-denounce-the-award-given-to-the-associate-press-for-picture-of-the-year
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kinetic-elaboration · 2 months
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March 22: Octavia & Clarke, Cunning/Rough
Octavia & Clarke, Modern AU, from the same 'verse as Make a Lot of Money and Feel Dead Inside
~1350 words, written in about 50 minutes
For the prompt "cunning and its antonyms: simple, ignorant, blunt, rough" from my July Break Bingo 2023 card.
cw for references to sexual assault
*
They start high school with reputations, all because of a prank they'd pulled the summer before. Clarke called it a revenge plot; Octavia, getting even.
Now everybody knows Clarke to be smart, but dangerous—cunning, the kind of girl who will convince you to let down your guard around her, even when you know better, excavate your secrets and use them against you, sharp and cold beneath a mystifying surface. Octavia, her best friend, her shadow, is the rough-and-tumble sort, a hazard to one's health in a different sort of way. She gets into a scuffle out back of the school at the end of the first week of classes, which cements the whole thing. She's tough, rough, and simple, a girl unafraid of bruises, jutting out her chin to show the raw bleed where the skin's scraped off.
The origin of the legends spools back to the Fourth of July party at Dax's place in the long, hot, humid, languid interim between eighth and ninth grade. Clarke was invited because of her beauty, Octavia on the strength of her older brother's connections and because Clarke was going, and they came packaged together as a set. Octavia still had the tomboy look of her early adolescence, long and rangy and lean, proportions she hadn't yet grown into; half her wardrobe was old hand-me-down's from Bellamy. She thought she looked like something in the right light, thought maybe that might matter, to the right boy. Not many looked at her when Clarke was right next to her, round-faced and blue-eyed; she'd started wearing low-cut shirts that showed her cleavage, sundresses that made Bellamy go protective-chaperone on her if he saw, made his face get all red and embarrassed, and cut off shorts, tan lines from tank tops striping her shoulders.
At the party, all the boys looked at her.
Except for one, who caught Octavia's eye over the top of his Solo cup and didn't let go, didn't blink. Someone was waving around sparklers in the background. The air smelled of cut grass and some distant neighbor's grill smoke, pulsed with bass beats from Dax's stereo.
The boy introduced himself as Atom. They sat around for a while on the back-porch steps, the concrete cold and rough against Octavia's legs and the backs of her thighs, talked bullshit until after a while he was resting his hand on her knee. He didn't mention either Clarke or Bell. She didn't have much to say, too distracted by an awareness of his body heat, an overpowering scent of body spray, his goddamn hand.
They made out for a while in the backseat of Dax's father's car, which was parked in the driveway, so she could see the late-sunset fading through the windows and the twilight building. Through the crack in them she could smell the smoke still, lingering on the humid air, hear the same sort of chirps and buzzing that she'd hear from out in the swamp in her own backyard, back home. Such thoughts distracted her often: how distant she felt from his hands pawing at her. When he touched where she didn't want, she kicked him, weakly, right above the shin because it was where she could reach.
But he was on top of her and didn't seem overly concerned.
That was a spiral moment. She thought of it that way later, that topsy-turvy vertigo that comes from control slipping, the sick-slipping sense that anything could happen, and none of it would be hers.
She got a knee in, scrambled out backwards through the unlocked door, fell right on her ass in the gravel. Scraped up heels of her palms, the cut of a small, sharp rock. He hadn't gotten far, but the damage was the fear itself and it was done.
Telling Clarke about it in the fort, waving her fingers through sifting beams of pale sun that came through the holes in the walls, she kept so calm that her own voice unsettled her. No big deal. But it sucked. Let's send Bellamy after him—maybe he'll kill him.
"He might," Clarke answered seriously. And: "We've got to fix this one ourselves."
Dax was going to be a sophomore. He didn't have a car or a license but he knew how to drive because his cousin had taught him when he was twelve. So yeah, he’d take Clarke out on a ride down some deep-rutted back road until they found a good spot to watch the stars. It was his pleasure. He didn't know any constellations but that was all right. She pointed out a few to him, instead.
The cool thing about Clarke was that she was just shy enough to be cute, in a play-acting way that all guys basically believed, confident enough to let them know what she wanted and how she expected to get it. She wanted to know what he wanted. His daydreams, his fantasies. Her soft voice in his ear, teasing, cajoling—baby, babe—what do you really WANT? The sick-secret stuff. You're safe with me.
Octavia had hiked her way out ahead of them, was crouched in the long grass listening to the sounds of face-sucking and drawing pictures in the dirt with her stub nails, thinking about how great an actress Clarke was—fuck (a deep-forbidden word, still new on her tongue)—fuck, she really knew what she was doing.
And the tape recorder in her purse, next to them on the flatbed, picked up all of it. Confessions you could make a mix CD out of. Stuff he should have known better than to tell anyone—stuff Octavia would never tell if she was him—stuff she’d definitely never tell Clarke, if she was him, Clarke who had already distributed all of her love, or at the very least all of her loyalty, and would never gather up the crumbs of it for him.
After a while, the sounds tapered off. The familiar insect-riot grew louder in its wake. She flicked her gaze across the tall, thin stalks of burned-yellow grass, to the dark interstices, the hint of the rusty blue flatbed on the road. She could see it by its own headlights. The back, where Clarke was, dark as it was quiet.
Then she heard the click of the tape player, scratchy in the July night, like the trigger of a haunting. A sound where it should not be. Her ears were so attuned to it, waiting for it; but afterwards, she could only hear the cadences of Atom's recorded voice, not the content of the whispered, breathy words. She tuned it out to static. All static.
Sharp staccato yelling followed, empty threats and a couple of other new words, sharp-edged profanity she hasn't added to her vocabulary yet, and at last she saw a shadow-figure jump down from truck. She turned on her flashlight, finally, stood and pointed it at him, so he was caught in the beam like a deer. When he tried to rush her, she beat him to it. In her spare hand, she gripped Bellamy's knife with the blade snapped out.
He didn’t know she had it and he'd never approve.
Atom stopped up short, kicking up dust as he slid, halted: a cloud of it in the high beams. Over his shoulder, Octavia could see Clarke's silhouette, standing eerily still and watching them and waiting.
"You're fucking crazy," Atom spat out at her. But she had a knife almost to his throat so there was a tremor to the words, and she found the whole thing, that terrible blood-pounding moment, so wonderfully thrilling, so sharp and real, that she almost laughed like the deranged villain he must have thought that she was. She almost threw the knife away. She almost stabbed him. She almost ran, sprinting, yelling, cackling, like some sort of malevolent spirit in the night.
In the end, she just scared him. And Clarke never replayed the audio. Eventually she even unspools the tape and crushes it beneath her heel. But still their reputations precede them, for the rest of their days stuck in the deep-sucking mud of Arcadia Falls, and in some ways even after, because this is how they know each other and themselves.
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