just tell people!!!

DBS RANT

Caulifla, Kale and Mirai Trunks(DBS) are the biggest Mary Sues of Dragon Ball Super.

How the fuck does Kale tank a Super Saiyan Blue Kamehameha from a powered up Goku?!

It took Gohan and Goku years of training to unlock the Super Saiyan 2 Form and you’re telling me that Caulifla did that shit in one day with no trouble? WHAT?!

And we better not talk about fucking Trunks and his fucking Genkidama Sword and new Super Saiyan Shit form.

This show is actively ruining past arcs of DBZ. Previous accomplishments by DBZ characters especially Gohan’s are made irrelevant because it doesn’t mean shit to train and work hard anymore.

I had a dream that I forgot to text a popular blogger back so I got a call out post and tons of subposts by her and her friends about how self centered and arrogant I am. They dragged me and tried to harass me into deleting because I take Bl*ckout too seriously and ‘think I’m somebody’ and accused me of gentrifying Brooklyn because I moved back into the brownstone I grew up in. Days and days of harassment later, I figured out it was all because I didn’t text her back and I text her then she tried to call it all off but it was too late . She tarnished my reputation bc of a text.

Wild. I woke up hurt lmfao

  • Yuuri: Did you tell anybody we’re engaged?
  • Victor: Yes, Yuuri, I have no self control and I told the pretzel vendor we’re engaged.
  • Yuuri: Okay, no need to be sarcastic.
  • Victor: No, seriously, I have no self control and I told the pretzel vendor we’re engaged.
Petition to have "no" voicelines in overwatch

Genji: “I need healing !!!!!1!!1!”
Mercy: “No. I don’t think so.”

Hanzo: “Attack the objective!!!!!4!!2!!211!”
McCree: “Eat the underside of my rusty boot, pardner.”

Soldier 76: “Stop the payload!!!2!!1!1!”
Reaper: “Honestly?? Fuk u”

6

But we’re a million worlds apart..

anonymous asked:

If one hypothetically wanted to read your Eldritch Abomination Garfield fic, how would one go about finding it as directly searching for 'garfield' hypothetically does not include the fic?

“They bought it?” Lyman asked as Jon hung up the phone.

“I got the contract,” Jon confirmed, dazed. “I’m — I’m syndicated.”

“You did it, man!” Lyman said, clapping him on the back. Odie barked.

“They’re already thinking about merchandising deals,” Jon continued, staring into space.

“I told you things were going to turn around for you,” Lyman said with a nod. Odie continued barking, making it clear that he was not just trying to be supportive. “Hey, look, I’ve gotta take the dog for a walk. If the alarm goes off while I’m gone, can you take dinner out of the oven?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, with no real conception of what he was agreeing to. He still had not yet finished processing that phone call, the idea that he was going to be paid, consistently, that he was a working cartoonist, that his comics would be in papers. Merchandising deals. Merchandising.

It was not until he heard the door that Jon realized he was alone in the apartment.

Just him, and Garfield.

From the corner, it growled.

Jon’s heart spasmed; he hadn’t realized it was in the same room. “H—hey,” he said. It would have been a dumb thing to say if it was a normal cat. It was a dumber thing to say under the circumstances. Its eyes glowed red in the shadows. “How are you?” he asked, then winced as the cat growled again. “Heard the good news?” he asked weakly.

MY END OF THE CONTRACT HAS BEEN FULFILLED

It rumbled through his brain like an earthquake, words without words. He covered his ears even though it wouldn’t help. “Yeah, thanks for—”

I WILL FEED

Jon’s heart spasmed again, overwhelmed with the sense of a hunger not his own. “Right, about that—”

YOU WILL FEED ME it said, words written in blood, thick and hot.

“—yes, I got that, I’m just not really sure what I’m supposed to—”

MEAT and the word throbbed, tore.

“Would chicken be okay?”

UNACCEPTABLE it said in broken bone and jellied marrow.

“I don’t want to stereotype you by assuming you want to eat my roommate—”

YES GIVE ME HIS HEART it said, pulsing, torn flesh.

“—but you can’t eat Lyman.”

I͇̤͜ ̭̩W̨͕̪̠͙I̧̫͍͕̤̥̥̥L̜̜̭͔̪͢L̡͉͍͍͓̣ ͇F̤̜E̤̱̼̩͙̺͢E̥̳̫D̯͚̰ͅ

The glowing eyes moved from the shadows, grew larger, taller. Hellfire, if fire could cast dark instead of light, orange and red, fire and blood. The indistinct shape that might have been a cat became an indistinct shape that might have been a man, large, always large. Jon shrank back as it stretched to fill the room, tried not to look directly at it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin, even though it couldn’t have been, because he was still wearing his jacket.

There was a chiming sound.

WHAT WAS THAT

“Uh.” Jon swallowed, hard. “Dinner?”

FOOD

“Yes,” Jon said, “but I don’t know if you can eat people food…”

Garfield sat in the middle of the floor, wide as it was tall. Its gaze was baleful.

“Right. You can eat whatever you want.” Slowly Jon inched around the cat to head toward the kitchen. “I don’t really know what it is, though. It might be… vegan.”

Garfield hissed, the sound of pain, and Jon fled toward the oven.

I SMELL MEAT

Jon stopped himself from telling the cat get off the counter. “I think it’s a casserole,” he said, removing the dish to set it on the stove. He gingerly removed the lid, his hands safely wrapped in oven mitts. “Oh. It’s lasagna.”

GIVE IT TO ME

“It has to cool,” Jon said. Garfield hissed again, and the sound turned Jon’s blood to fiberglass. He backed away, and the cat leapt bodily and entirely into the baked pasta. It did not seem bothered by the fact that the pasta sauce was still bubbling, and Jon tried not to look at the void of its mouth. A black hole rimmed with fangs, an absence of all light, drawing in all that it touched to disappear within.

WHAT IS THIS it asked, and a hellfire paw batted at a stretchy piece of mozzarella.

“… cheese?”

The cat-shaped thing nodded, still sitting in the dish of lasagna.

WE DO NOT HAVE THIS

“You don’t have cheese in hell?”

It nodded again.

“I guess that’s what makes it hell.” If Garfield appreciated this observation, it did not show it. It cracked open its maw again, more lasagna disappearing, and Jon looked away. “That lasagna was supposed to feed us for a week,” he sighed. “How much longer do I need to do this?” he asked.

UNTIL YOU ARE SATISFIED

“Until I’m satisfied?”

YOU MUST FEED ME TO SATISFY YOUR HUNGER

Realization dawned. “Wait, but — I thought this was a one-time thing.”

IT WAS NOT

“If you leave, I get fired?”

PERHAPS

“So I might still be able to make it on my own.”

DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR SKILL IS ENOUGH TO BRING YOU ALL THAT YOU DESIRE

Jon thought of the portfolio sitting in his room, and sagged. “… no.”

It grew, limbs stretching, claws turning to fingers and then claws again. It sat on the counter like a solid mirage, licking red from its hands.

YOU WILL HAVE RICHES BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS it said in truffle oil and fur and gold. SO LONG AS I AM FED YOU WILL NEVER KNOW HUNGER

Syndication and merchandising deals and maybe someday a cartoon on television. His signature in every newspaper in every house in the country. In the world, even. He raked his fingers through his curls and tried not to look at its claws.

“I guess I’m stuck with you, then,” Jon said.

It didn’t slide off the counter the way a man would, shifted off like drifting smoke or licking flames, stood and was no shorter. Tall and broad and solid, a weight to its presence as it moved closer. Jon shrank back again as it loomed, and this show of submission seemed to please it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin again, and he shivered.

YES YOU ARE



I really do believe that at least part of the problem of people distrusting science has to do with how we as scientists portray ourselves.

We have actively created a system where we derive authority from being seen as better/smarter/more competent than everyone else and then when people ask why they should trust us we respond with a very condescending version of ‘because SCIENCE IS FACT’ or something along those lines.

Like, consider how that would feel from the outside? Here are a small group of people who you have never met/interacted with who sequester themselves in impenetrable ~elite institutions that you can’t access and don’t feel party to who then tell you that what they say is fact because they’re smarter and better educated than you. And if you ever try to question them (no matter how reasonable your objections may be/seem to you) they condescendingly pat you on the head and say something like ‘don’t worry we know better. you can’t possibly understand what we do.’

Why the hell would you trust them? 

No one likes being told that they’re not smart enough to understand something, and no one likes feeling excluded from something they’ve essentially been asked to accept sight unseen. 

I don’t really have a solution to this, except some vague notion about working harder to portray scientists as people working a job, rather than geniuses who are above it all. 

And like trying harder to understand where people are coming from when they question science. And remembering that being better educated than most doesn’t make us smarter than most. It just makes us better trained in certain types of thinking.

I just think we need to keep in mind what we are asking of people. Which is to put a whole hell of a lot of faith in us.

Matt spending 2 minutes listening to Lance talk before cutting him off with “dude you and Shiro have like the same personality and it’s weirding me out right now” but everyone’s just super confused because they only know Shiro in the power dynamic of being older and in charge

Bonus:
Matt sees Shiro giving out orders and starts laughing so hard

Bonus #2
when ever Matt walks into the room Shiro becomes a difernt person and it weirds everyone out

  • Random person: well this medication you're taking is just treating the SYMPTOMS of your disease, it's not actually helping you
  • Me, internally screaming: I have a CHRONIC illness. THERE IS NO CURE. I will take what I can get.

anonymous asked:

Hey could you draw a blackhat comforting a flug after having a nightmare? That would be so great thanks

black hat isn’t the best at comforting, but it’s enough to hold flug together.

sometimes, flug just needs to be left alone. especially when it’s about him

if tumblr is gonna be anything like it was just before taylor left recently where every second person reblogged themselves 63 times a minute then my god i truly hope you brilliant people who stayed all along and don’t beg for her attention so much get to meet her soon because you da real mvp’s :’)