The Aspiring Writer & the Kind Esper

A little aftermath tale of an uncertain girl and a timid boy.

Series: Mob Psycho 100 Characters: Shigeo Kageyama & Emi (slight one-sided Emi -> Mob)

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I have a really complex relationship with religion, but here’s something positive

concept

a beaded curtain, but instead of beads they’re worms on strings

you know… these guys

Hi op I hope this satisfies your needs.

Needs more worms

I wanna make one of these that is like a literal curtain of worms

No clear strings available to get caught and tangle, I want them nose to ass like some kind of horrible human centipede of worms, covering my doorway

@fanotastic more worms

Aw fuck. Nothing makes you assholes happy.

Fuck you guys.

My fellow fuckers, I present you-

THE DEED IS DONE

I’ve never been so happy to see a conclusion.

40 y/o white guy: Hey kid, ever hear about Rage Against the Machine? They really told it like it is! Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me!

me: Zack de la Rocha is Mexican Tom Morello is black Brad Wilk is jewish

40 y/o white guy: blue lives matter

RATM: Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses

40 y/o white guy that claims he likes RATM: blue lives matter

Was it Paul Ryan that claimed to be a RATM fan? Like, nationally? In public? On TV? And then RATM came out and shut him down?

:)

🙏✊🔥🙏

Also I totally remembered this exchange:

GET FUCKING REKT

bad trans headcanon tropes to leave behind for 2018

i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream

you say this jokingly but i had a customer actually order a pumpkin spice latte with 9 shots of espresso (also no whip) and when i asked her to verify that she did indeed want 9 shots of espresso she looked me dead in the eyes and said “i have 5 kids”

I once had a woman come in and ordered an Americano with 19 shots of espresso. The drink took ages. It held up the line. I asked her why, and she shrugged and said “I just don’t care”. We still talk about that woman. We never saw her again.

new cryptid: exhausted woman at starbucks

Actual conversation I had at register: “Hi, welcome to [Starbucks]! What can I get you, today?”

“How much is it to fill a Venti with Espresso?”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“A venti cup. How much to fill it with Espresso?”

“Oh. uh. Well, it’d be I suppose… I only have a button for a Quad. I don’t have special pricing for twenty ounces of espresso in a single… drink.”

“Price is the furthest thing from my mind right now. How many ‘add shots’ is that?”

*deep breath of fear* “It’d be a quad with,” *clears throat* “uh, sixteen additional shots of espresso. But, ma’am, I should tell you that the shots will start to get really bitter if they have to sit and wait for us to pull twenty of them-”

“Taste means nothing to me.”

At this point I am truly fearing for my very existence in the presence of what must clearly be an eldritch being.

“Oh. Well, okay.” I put on my absolute best customer service smile to hide my terror and accept that I must face this dragon, fae, or demon with dignity. “We can certainly get that for you! The price will be _____.”

She begins to pay, I shit thee not, with golden Sacajawea dollar coins. We are a block from Wall Street, and this eldritch demi-being is paying for an unholy elixer with golden coins. My life will end soon, I am sure of it.

“Do you still have the ‘Add Energy’ packets?”

My heart began to race at this request. “Yes ma’am.”

“How many can I add?”

Futile though it is, at least I know the rote response to this. “For health reasons, we won’t add more than one per drink and we cannot sell the packets individually.”

“One then.”

I alter the order and tell her the new price. She pays, dumps the change and five golden dollars into the tip box. I write the order on the venti cup and pass it silently to the girl working the hot beverage station. Normally we called and pass, but this was … not something to be spoken aloud.

My fellow takes the cup, not thinking anything of the minor break with protocol, until she sees the order. She stares at me. “No.”

The woman, which I call her for no other greater insight into her terrifying being is within my grasp, simply stands on the other side and says, calmly but with a commanding tone I expect of Admirals in bad movies, “Yes.”

My fellow barista pales before her task. But we are dutiful, we are true to our task, great though it may be. She sets about clearing the two brand new Mastrena’s of all distraction, and sets two tall cups in the ready position. The energy packet is emptied into the venti cup, and the shots begin pouring. 

The barista was damn near shaking. This woman’s gaze felt like the fires of the sun. Finally, the shots are pulled, the cup is filled, and the hand off takes place.

Our visiting Incomprehensible takes it to our milk bar and adds a dollop of cream. Satisfied, she proceeds to down what must have been half the damn cup.

Then she smiled at us, like a benediction and I was honestly filled with joy. And horror. She left, and we knew nothing more of her after that.

When I talk with other former employees, we quickly begin talking about “The Company” as if we’d never left, perhaps knowing that part of our soul still powers that awesome and terrible corporate machine. And when I share this story, other Baristas at first act shocked but quickly settle and comes the chorus, 

“Yeah, I had one like that.”

what pewdiepie did:

- turned the war against T-Series into a charity event that raised 200 thounsand dollars in a day

- that’s not even counting the millions of dollars he raised for charity during his entire career

- shouted out numerous small creators so they get some attention (we all know youtube’s algorithm sucks)

- brought attention to a channel who’s host had passed away, knowing it was his dream to have a popular channel on youtube. his parents now host the channel.

- constantly interacts with his fans via community driven videos, gives attention to numerous artists that post on his subreddit

y’all:

- “he said the n word that one time, so :////////”

Actually me:

- For his time as a youtuber, he has consistently made rape jokes, promoted nazi imagery and beliefs, literally paid people who didn’t speak much English to hold up signs that said “death to all Jews”, and yeah, said the fucking n word

- Has never offered decent apologies for these instances, instead resorting to bullshit excuses like “it was a joke” or  “it was a heated gamer moment”

-He consistently promotes alt-right and far right zealots, has actively cited neo-nazis as having good youtube channels, and follows all of these people on twitter:

you may recognize several of these as being active and vocal transphobes, homophobes, racists, and misogynists, many of whom have been pushing ideas like white genocide that have an actual body count for years

-Passively allows nazis to use him as a recruiting tool and as a dog whistle. Introducing people to racism and nazism in a fun, comedic manner is a historically extremely effective method for radicalizing people to violence. It’s no coincidence that 51 people were murdered under his name.

-It literally doesn’t matter whether he actually supports nazism, he has still fostered a space for nazis to feel safe and to recruit new members and unless he actively and unceasingly condemns the ideology and drives away all the nazis who follow him he is complicit in everything the alt right has done or will do in his name. He hasn’t even attempted to do such a thing.

-It doesn’t matter how much of other people’s money he gives to charity. People are dying because of him.

-And yeah, again, he said the fucking n word. stop supporting racists.

And for all the “uwu he’s HUMAN he makes mistakes” dumbasses in the notes I’d like to say, “so what?” We’re all human, what makes him so special that we are constantly told to exempt him from criticism or responsibility?

He’s a piece of shit that was never funny in the first place, quit supporting him.

I like how I’m supposed to accept a racist because he raised some money

if you are in high school and you follow me idc if you learn nothing else from me, but learn this: do not join the fucking military. they will promise you all sorts of things in exchange for joining their muder-system for a few years. do not listen to them. you won’t find a sense of purpose, you won’t find an adventure, you might not even get the money they promise you for college. if you survive, you’ll come back with blood on your hands, feeling just as aimless as before except knowing you’re a killer. the government will drop you like hot potatoes the second you are not useful to them, and you will be on your own with nothing but some ptsd and a more intimate understanding of the phrase “blood for oil.”

Especially important for you guys to know now that schools letting out and those scholarships they offer can look tempting

Recruiters will lie to you.

They will lie to your faces. They will lie over and over again. They will tell you whatever lies will get you to sign up.

RECRUITERS WILL LIE TO YOU.

I MISS MIIVERSE :( children are super funny

god i miss this

What even was Miiverse?

IM CRYING

i love the ‘im a little shit’ heroes who act like they dont have a care in the world when faced with evil but for once i want a hero whos just, fucking tired. and doesnt hide it, ever, from anyone.

*cuts the line at applebees, visibly bleeding through their shirt, some lady gives them a disapproving look* “what? i fucking saved the world three times now i can be a bit of a meanie sometimes”

“(at bad guy) just shut the fuck up, already? ive heard this same story about seven times before you even got inspired by some 4chan post to be like this just, do something so i can legally beat you into fucking pulp, jesus”

“theyre building me a statue? sure. how nice. can they maybe invest some of that spare money into better cheaper education and psychologists so i dont have to fight the monsters this shit system keeps producing? call me when they do that, then *hangs up*”

“this is where you will meet your end, [heroes name]!” - the hero, monotonously: “ive been let down so many times please dont give me false hope”

reporter: why dont you have a secret identity sir?

this motherfucker: you think we have the right to secrets, to privacy, today? with every government having a hard on for civillian surveillance and every company willing to sell everything they know about you to them? *snorts*

reporter: sir what do you say on the us police force giving you a honorary badge of approval?

this motherfucker: i must be doing something horribly wrong then

this post is now legally an exhibit refrain from adding anything on it past this point

a list of fake tumblr stories i can sort of remember:

AND MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE

Its actually illegal to post this and leave out Oppa Homeless Style

I absolutely cannot believe you left out Down With Cis

New Zealand’s new water safety mascot is amazing and his instagram is a gift

hey asking for a friend but uh. what’s it gonna take for fandom to relearn the difference between “canon” and “word of god”?

★ canon = the text itself; the show/movie/book/comic; the actual up-on-Netflix content; anything a casual fan would reasonably interact with ★ word of god = anything else, i.e. interviews with cast/crew/showrunners; DVD commentaries; comments from the crew on social media or at cons; literally any written or verbal remarks about the text made by writers or showrunners or actors

word of god does not equal canon, and yet i increasingly see fandoms conflating the two and acting like word of god comments from The Powers That Be count as canon and are equivalent to canon footnotes to the text and i’m. NO. listen. it’s not. that’s not what canon means, and word of god comments should not be treated as part of the canon text. this isn’t just me being a pedantic text purist, this has actual negative consequences for shows and fandoms and people’s experience of the stories, i mean:

the canon text has to stand alone. word of god should serve as a trove of fun trivia or behind-the-scenes tidbits about the writing process; it is not supposed to be a substitute for clear, concise, and comprehensive storytelling. a story that doesn’t make sense unless you’ve read 8 different explanatory interviews by the writers is badly written. showrunners who treat interviews as a place to offload all the character development or plot explanations they didn’t bother to include in the actual text are lazy hacks who are bad at their jobs.

word of god can be handy and fun and informative, and for people who are interested in creator comments or interviews there’s no harm in paying attention to that stuff. but it’s not canon. the canon is the text itself. anything else is supplementary to that, and fans are absolutely allowed to disregard anything not in canon if they choose.

I rate “Man Fairy” emojis

A cute woodland sprite! A mischievous boy, currently casting a spell on some mortal to tie their shoelaces together. 9/10 why is he wearing board shorts?

Oh man. Oh bro. This one is rough, from the color palette reminiscent of a Claire’s final clearance sale, to his oddly positioned hidden foot, to his vacant death stare. 1/10 give him a pair of pants.

This one is more representative of a fairy, it doesn’t convince me a tiny fey creature is living in my phone like the others. His head is not connected to his body, which is somewhat disturbing. 3/10.

This looks like Samsung saw the Apple’s Man Fairy on TV as a child before google existed and drew it in his school notebook from memory. 7/10 he did a pretty good job.

This looks like the love child of Tinker Bell and Winnie the Pooh. I don’t like to call things “childhood ruining” but if I ever do this’ll be the first. 2/10 at least give him ears.

A drastically different approach from Facebook, this is not your run of the mill sweet fairy boy. He came from a distant frozen wasteland. He has never done a good deed in his life, not once. And he wants to fucking RAGE. 10/10 I’m genuinely scared.

This is just the tooth fairy. 2/10 I have a personal grudge (my teeth were worth FAR more).

Damn. I’d let him raw me on a toadstool and the chipmunks could watch. 11/10.

Once upon a time, there was a city ruled by three sister princesses. They were much-loved in their kingdom- the eldest with eyes of brightest blue, the middle with lips of sweetest pink, and the youngest with hair of deepest red. They were incredibly close, acting as each other’s friends and confidantes. They were just, and kind, able to balance the people and keep the peace in their land.

For a time, all was well.

And then it wasn’t.

Mother?

Shh.

A neighboring kingdom, jealous of this city’s prosperity and peace, sought to disrupt it. They dragged to its gates hideous war machines, made of magic and steel and human skin. The king, a man of great magical learning and power, demanded the princesses surrender their city to him, and if they did not, he said, he would raze it to the ground.

Mother, I’ve never heard of this story.

Then listen when I tell it to you.

The youngest daughter, when she heard, did up her deep red hair, put on a delicate crown, and clothed herself in a beautiful dress. “I will offer him an alliance,” she told her sisters. “I will give him my hand in marriage for our kingdom’s safety.”

The other sisters wept, understanding the sacrifice that their youngest was making, and held her close until dawn. They saw her off at the castle gates, and watched until she disappeared into the still city.

When the youngest daughter reached the enemy’s camp, she stood tall, and did not show her fear. She spoke kindly to the weary soldiers, curtsied before the cruel sorcerer-king as custom demanded. She was brave, oh, my darling, she was so brave.

And the king spat at her fine words, and spoke the words that drew all the light from out of her, until she went mad with despair. As the sun set on the day, and on the youngest sister, who lay despondent in the middle of the camp, a soldier came upon her, and killed her in a fit of mercy.

But you said that she was brave.

Yes. She was.

When the other sisters heard, the middle sister donned silver armor, borrowed from the guards in the castle, and took up a crossbow. “I go to kill the king,” she said. “I go to avenge our youngest.”

And the eldest held her close, and wept, until she let her go and watched her disappear from sight into the streets.

When the middle sister arrived at the camp, she moved quietly, looking through the tents with eyes and a heart made cold with fury and grief. She reached the king’s tent- asleep, inside was the enemy, and she raised her crossbow to finish the job. And she would have, darling, she would have, had she not seen, hanging from the post of the kings fine bed, her sister’s delicate crown.

The king awoke when she sobbed at the sight of it, and spoke words that caused her to wither and decay where she stood, crumbling to rotted remains inside a suit of armor.

Mother, I don’t like this story.

You must hear it.

The eldest sister heard the news and she did not weep. She drew her courage about her, and set off into the forest to find her and her sister’s mother, who was a powerful witch.

Her mother answered the door and bade her come inside, offering her condolences about her sister’s fates. Once the door had closed, her mother hesitated, then spoke.

“I left you in that castle long ago, and I will give you your answers, and then I will give you your vengeance against the king.”

And so the daughter listened.

Mother, I don’t want to hear this.

Listen, daughter.

Long ago, there had been a queen with great magickal abilities, but she was never able to find a love, so she used those powers to create three daughters.

One, she formed from a bottle of light captured at the sun’s violent surrender to night. It woke last, a child with beautiful red hair, and so it was the youngest.

One, she shaped from a gentle pink anemone, the last in her castle’s courtyard to survive winter’s onslaught. It woke second, a child with curved pink lips, and so it was the middle.

One, she carved from a piece of sapphire the size of her fist, and as she did, she cut her finger with the blade, so it was made with blood, as well. It woke immediately, with bright blue eyes, so it was the eldest.

The sun took her first child home, she told the sapphire-girl. Her body turned to light, and then to nothing, what it always was. The body of her second daughter rotted in the encampment like a flower decayed beyond its lifespan. “All the king can do is turn you back to what you were before,” she told her daughter. “He will turn you back to stone if you are unprotected.”

She gave her daughter a vial full of black liquid. “This will turn your heart forever to sapphire. The king will be unable to change you- but you will never feel again. No blade shall pierce your skin, but no joy or grief will stir within you. You will never be warm, or cold. I offer you not immortality, but a half-life of invincibility.”

The daughter regarded the vial, and uncorked it. She brought it to her lips, but before she drank, she asked her mother, “Why did you leave us?”

And then she swallowed, so she would not care about the response, and she left her mother in her home before she found the answer.

But why did their mother leave them?

Because she knew, daughter, even then, that her eldest child was capable of committing this act, and she was afraid.

The eldest daughter marched to the encampment, and to the kings tent. She was attacked, but nothing drew blood, and so she went forward. The king, upon seeing her, spoke the words that would have crumbled her to so many sapphire shards, but nothing happened.

She pulled out the king’s heart through his armor, and she felt no relief at having killed him.

She felt nothing.

The end.

Mother?

Mother, that can’t be how the story ends.

Mother, that is not how the story ends.

Do you want another ending?

Yes.

Very well, then.

The people saw what their queen had done, and began to fear her. The queen, unable to feel love or even affection, went back to her mother to find a way to make a child that her people would adore, because, without emotion, she saw that that was what they needed.

The child was made of ice over a pond, and her hair was the orange-white color of the fish, still alive in the cold.

And the queen raised her daughter to love the kingdom, to rule well, and to one day overthrow her mother.

Is that better?

No, mother, it’s- it’s not.

I am sorry.

Why did you tell it to me?

Because you deserved to know, daughter.

You deserved to know what I did.

jordan peterson’s fucking insane all-meat diet is almost certainly going to kill him and i personally find that extremely entertaining

“i ate like a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar and was overcome with an inexplicable sense of impending doom and couldn’t sleep for a month” like BITCH that is NOT a healthy reaction lmfao

like if someone threw a fruit in his general direction he’d probably fall over convulsing and start coughing up blood

i thought you were fucking kidding

Getting scurvy to own the libs

The doomcider part is fucking amazing. 

WHAT THE FUCK ?

I feel a sense of impending doom all the time lmao he’s weak