How to make a Chinese brocade-pattern chapan茶盘(tea tray) for teapot and teacups by 山白shanbai

Thinking to myself "they can't possibly have written this entire 20 000 word fic exclusively in 4chan greentext format", like a fool.

Give us the fic

Let the record reflect that you asked for this.

@lidsel replied:

I mostly just look up what's being referenced when people blorbotag my shitposts.

I low-key love this? They're certainly making use of the format; the chaotic and comedic flow of events would feel lower quality and wordier in standard prose

I don't know how anyone has found this as the only ao3 tag it has is "original work." There's not even a rating or relationship type. The fic summary for anyone intrested is:

"in 2069 AD, the region once known as the United States of America is a world of complex lore and political intrigue that our heroine doesn't really care about because she's too busy trying to find estrogen in the post-apocalyptic Midwest."

Give that roughly two thirds of the comments and kudos appear to post-date the creation of this thread, at least in this particular case the answer to "where do people find this stuff?" is apparently "right here".

i cant stop laughing

whenever i see a baby in public i wish i were like a powerful faerie god mother character who could give the baby a gift like “you’ll never get a cold” or “math will always make sense to you” or something like bein’ great with string instruments but I don’t have any powers that I know of but it doesn’t stop me from trying so every time I see a baby in public I tell the adult with it “what a beautiful baby” and it makes them smile and then I pretend I can take the goodness of their smile and I look at the baby and I think very hard “you will have a good life, even if it’s hard, you will end up happy” and I’m just hopin’ the magic kicks in at some point

faerie: for your service, I will grant you one boon me: cool can it be the power to grant boons faerie, looking through the manual: uh,

Chinese hanfu convention scene

i saw ppl dunking on this woman on here a while ago which is crazy bc regardless of ur thoughts on taylor swift skipping work is literally awesome

Hiding your identity via blanket and putting on sunglasses so you can participate in an interview despite calling in sick to work is hilarious work good on her

every time I think about Dilbert I think about this comic and how the question being asked is Not Stupid and its answer is genuinely interesting and arguably very important information anyone using a computer should know

One of the scariest things that ever happened to me was when I was working at Red Robin. I was around eighteen and I worked as a host. I answered phones, opened doors, and seated people. The job wasn’t strenuous.

One night, the phone rang. It was fully dark outside. My shift was almost over and my mom was picking me up because I still didn’t have a car of my own. She was waiting in the parking lot when the store phone rang.

I picked up with a chirpy greeting and slammed into a horror movie when a gruff voice informed me that he could see me. He had a shotgun pointed into the building and I’d see brain matter sprayed across the walls if I didn’t do what he said. My brain froze in blind panic. I couldn’t believe this terrible thing was really happening to me.

The restaurant was all windows, visible on all sides by the parking lot except for the kitchen. He could be looking in from any direction, shotgun leveled on customers, or coworkers, or me. “Do you hear me?” he asked.

I stared in blank terror, not answering until he yelled, “Do you fucking hear me?!”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Do you have a cellphone?”

“Yes,” I was so transfixed with fear it hadn’t occurred to me to lie.

“Give me the number.”

My mind suddenly whirred into panicky circles. I couldn’t give some crazy man my phone number, I needed to do something else but I couldn’t make up a number either because my head was pounding with adrenaline. My frightened head latched onto the only other number I had memorized.

I rattled off my mothers phone number.

“You’re going to hang up the phone, walk to the back dumpster with your cell phone in your left hand, and I’m going to call you. No one has to die tonight.”

I stood shaking with the phone pressed to my ear.

“Hang up.”

I hung up the phone. I was trembling, but I knew there was no windows in the kitchen. If I got to the kitchen I’d be safe, and that’s where he told me to go so I could make it there if I just held it together.

I made it to dry storage and met one of the assistant managers exiting. I broke down in sobs and started garbling in incoherent fear. He looked utterly flabbergasted by this, as I had the reputation of being the most level headed of the host staff.

He asked me to wait at the bar. He rushed off to try to finish what he was doing so he could deal with me. I was too scared to leave the kitchen hallway; I huddled as close the end of the bar as I could get without leaving the safety of the wall.

I was sobbing when the bartender looked over and saw me. She gasped in outrage and had me into the managers office in a blink, arms around me asking what was wrong, what was wrong.

I was finally in an enclosed room with a locking door. The gibbering in my head calmed to the point that I relayed the whole thing to the bartender. Near the end, the manager returned. He had my mother in tow.

She was furious, hearing the tail end of my death threat call. Apparently, while sitting in the parking lot she’d received the call I had been too scared to get.

The man had asked if she was me, and she was instantly combative. She didn’t tell him anything, just demanded to know, “Who’s This?” He hung up.

He’d called back once just saying my name and she’d angrily asserted, “No.” He hung up.

My mom was furious and confused and marched into the building. Part of her anger was that I’d given away her phone number. She’s a violently private person. My manager had been making sure the servers knew they didn’t have a host when my mom burst in on a mission of vengeance. He quickly escorted my rampaging mother to the back room and they were both in time to hear I’d received a death threat.

My mom rounded on my manager demanding to know why they hadn’t called the police and he pleaded that this was the first he was hearing about it. The police were called.

My mom and I waited in a booth while my nerves jangled with anxiety. No one had checked the cars outside for shooters and now I was sitting here exposed, surrounded by windows. She tried not to be mad about me giving her number given my emotional state, but she wasn’t thrilled with me.

A police office showed up an hour later. I answered her questions and my manager asked if I wanted anything. Everyone at the table looked astonished when I requested a root beer float. But by god, I wanted one.

The officer assured me that most events like this did not happen on site, that the caller wasn’t here. I didn’t believe the dowdy woman sitting across from me had even bothered to do a security sweep but I drank my float and tried to forget the darkness of the night staring in from all those windows. The clear line of sight on me from every side. The image of brain splattering against the glass divider. I drank more root beer.

I got a day off to calm down. On closing shifts after that my heart would pound when the phone rang and the bartenders all agreed to be on phone duty for me. A private investigator came in one day and I recited the whole event again. He’d been hired by the company as Red Robin’s nation wide had been targeted by the same caller.

The investigator told me he was working on it. That dozens of other businesses across the country had been called. He told me that if I’d given the caller my real number I would have been subjected to sexual assault over the phone.

I was starting to feel stupid. Everyone I told was so sure that he’d never even been present. That I’d never been in danger. The only thing I could console myself with was that many other girls had given him their number, but I hadn’t. I started forcing myself to pick the phone back up on closing shifts.

A few months later I was notified that he’d been arrested. The private investigator hired by a fast food restaurant had done what the police force hadn’t and tracked him down to a small town in the Midwest. My testimony was one of dozens used to convict him and for a while I received checks for 0.23 cents as reparations for the mental distress.

Everyone's quoting 1984 and The Handmaid's Tale, but I feel like you're all sleeping on Max Barry's Jennifer Government.

Some quotes:

"Companies were getting a lot tougher on labor contracts these days; Hack had heard stories. At Adidas, if you quit your job and your replacement wasn't as competent, they sued you for lost profits."

"The law is what the corporation says it is."

"The government is there to protect the Freedom of the Free Market."

"In a world obsessed with profit, happiness is just a luxury."

"You're only as valuable as the money you can make for someone else."

"We can't take that step. It's illegal, and more importantly it's bad business."

first assigned reading in my textile history class is about orientalism and the political appropriation of the paisley print and kashmir shawl by the british written by a south asian researcher

"in this essay i would like to offer a way of reading pattern and textile history as political and ideological" sickos yes ha ha ha yes . jpeg

dropbox link to the PDF of the reading i just uploaded bc it's institution paywalled otherwise <3 let me know if you have any issues downloading it

デゴチ@degochiyakuri

How do you say "game over for my life for real" in Japanese

Little office lady bookworm piece of shit I bet I could squash her like bug

God even when you admit you’d lose you manage to act smug somehow

God even when you

admit you’d lose you manage

to act smug somehow

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

something something the poetry of science etc

woah

yeah

some actual dark ages accomplishments you might recognise:

but also

SOME THINGS THAT ARE NOT FROM THE DARK AGES (a very incomplete list):

these are all medieval, but became major parts of european society after the 10th-11th century, which is generally the cutoff for "early medieval" or "Dark Ages".

(it's usually the 10th century. England is late to the party, less because of cultural backwardness and more because the Norman Conquest in 1066 provides such a neat dividing line that historians for almost a millennium have been unable to resist making it The Change Of Eras)

DARK AGES:

NOT DARK AGES:

NOT EVEN MEDIEVAL ACTUALLY STOP THAT:

this is so embarrassing

he's the guy of all time

My God, Sharon Carter was defanged in the MCU

So, a lot of the tropes that are staples in Buckyfic originate from things in these comics that didn't carry over to the MCU.

E.g. Bucky's speech patterns in dialogue in fanfic are very much comics!bucky rather than MCU!Bucky. The idea that Bucky was intended to function as Cap's partner who does the dirty work that Cap couldn't be seen doing onscreen in propaganda films (killing people) appears in a lot of fics and that comes from here.

MCU did a couple of things that lit the fuse for this story to be truly explosive in the Collective Sicko Consciousness, though: for one, exchanging the domino mask for a mask that covers the Winter Soldier's mouth and nose, evoking the idea of a muzzle, paired with some sick ass eyeliner. Whereas comics!winter soldier does some snarking and bantering when he's fighting, and engages in dialogue with other characters, MCU!winter soldier hardly talks at all; iirc it's not quite clear if he can while he's masked. He's not a Darker and Edgier, evil iteration of the same person (as in the comics) he's a black hole.

The other thing the MCU did... okay, two closely related things. One, it made Bucky and Steve roughly the same age and eliminated the hero-sidekick dynamic. Two, it completely failed to sell the idea that Steve is in any way attracted to women.

In the comic version of this storyline, Sharon is a major secondary character whose relationship to and history with Cap is a major source of tension, conflict and uncertainty; in the same storyline in the movies, she is completely sidelined and Steve shows zero signs of genuine attraction to or interest in any female character.

Seriously, MCU!Steve is shown being kissed three times by women, twice non-consensually and causing him clear discomfort, once with dubious consent (iirc, he didn't seem distressed when Peggy kissed him, but he didn't really reciprocate). The conversation he had with Peggy about dancing with her was when he was psyching himself up to face death so I don't think that reads as an expression of romantic interest?

Compared with comics!Steve, MCU!Steve easily reads as a gay man, and I've said it before that this is a really interesting take on his character considering the relationship the concept of Captain America has to Eugenics and the Nazis, and it's a crying shame that it couldn't be explored

all y'all tagging this like "I'm not really into marvel but this is interesting"

As though I wasn't just like any of you, mere months ago, before Blorbo grabbed me by the ankles and dragged me in like the fuckin sarlacc pit

I need everyone to know that my old neighbor (probably) died or (possibly) went to someplace with permanent medical care because she was a million years old, and she was replaced by (another) old man of similar age and haleness whose children put him into this house to be closer to them. This is significant because the previous neighbor lady hated me AND my birds, and the new guy is delighted by them and comes over to visit Bug.

Today I got to meet his daughter and he insisted she meet Bug too, so after foot dips, I walked them out to the pens. I called for Bug several times, but she did not appear. I don't blame her. it's cold and rainy out. So I went in to find her, and she was absolutely not budging at all. Nestled up with mantis on their heated perch, inside their curtained-off, decorated, insulated coop. I did end up letting the daughter walk through to come see her and give her a little pat, because I want to get along with my neighbors and want them to like the birds (much easier all around if everyone likes the birds).

But like imagine it's the dead of winter in Michigan, and your elderly father insists that his new neighbor has peacocks and you go to see them thinking maybe they're turkeys, or like, one random peacock like some farms have, and instead this is what you find

and you're allowed to pet them

I thought there were three and one of them was fuckin purple.....

well, there are two of them, but one of them is fuckin purple!

She's a purple morph peahen!

Today my Advanced Clinical Pathology professor trailed off in the middle of class and said, “If I seem distracted, it’s because last night I was talking with a friend and she asked ‘Who’s that chick in Titanic?’ but all I heard was ‘Chicken Titanic,’ and ever since then I’ve been thinking about a chicken on the bow of the Titanic like Kate Winslet, wings held high. It’s all I can think about.”

My hand moved on its own