Why do I feel so alone? Saturday was shit. I was surrounded by people who didnt want to talk to me and chose to talk to the person I hate most. I asked my parents to pick me up from the band comp but they had gone to Austin so my mom can get a damn purse. They left me. I had to walk home in the…

Don’t blame all of this on me. You don’t know my life rn and have no room to judge me. You act like you’re completely innocent, but all you do is judge others and talk shit about them. At least I don’t act like I’m the perfect Christian, which doesn’t even exist. And I did love being around you, You weren’t just a place to stay. I WANTED to be around you. And yes, you helped me see my now ex’s, but I would have done the same for you without even thinking twice about it. For months you started to get short tempered with me and I would take it even though it hurt me really bad inside. You know I hated myself. But even though I was proud of some of the things I could do, you acted like it was wrong to even suggest I was good at something. And I’m not being conceited, but I honestly do think you’re jealous. Ranting to people about how guys would hit on me in front of you, which isn’t my fault at all and it’s not like I like it. Getting mad that people compliment me. Walking out and slamming the door when I try to practice my music. I complimented you all the time and tried to make you feel good about yourself and I don’t play to try and make you feel like shit, I have to practice and I’m not going to try and play shitty to make you feel better. I said I was probably going to be pit leader because I’ve been in band the longest and am the most experienced. It’s just a fact. And you always try to act like you’re so much better than me. Saturday, people tried to talk to you and I hardly talked to anyone. I was talking to them. If you wanted people to talk to you, you should have talked to them. Don’t blame it on me. I don’t do things to make you feel like shit, I do it because I’m trying to live my life and be happy. You pushed me away, don’t forget that. You taught me how to not put up with other people’s crap. And if you “hate” me so much (which isn’t a very Christian thing, since you keep saying I’m not very Christian) then why do you care so much about what I do? And why won’t you hardly even look at me at school or block me on Twitter and then subtweet about me? So please, if you have anything else you want to say. Say it to my face. If not, stop it. I’m not the same person I used to be as you can see, just like you aren’t. and if you can’t say anything unless it’s behind a keyboard, then you shouldn’t be saying anything at all. Don’t blame me for you not being happy, because it’s no ones fault but your own.

Stop fucking stalking my blog god damn I knew you had a crush on me but I didnt know you were this obsessed about me. You dont even understand my whole fucking post and you dont even understand what depression fucking is. So hop off my ass bitch.

I hate that I laughed at this

"Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there," and another one appears. And dodges the downward sweep of claws, darting to the side, bouncing off the pentagram’s barriers, and tripping over the demon’s tail. "In the Vatican!" she cries out as she moves, using the State Farm Agent summoning charm to modify the situation as she was taught, and mentally thanking her trainer for expecting her to be fast enough to do it on the first incantation.

Most State Farm agents, when they run into trouble, have to get the customer to do the jingle a second time. That guy with the buffalo was lucky.

The magic takes hold, and she materializes in the aisle of St. Peter’s Basilica, still holding the demon by the tail, in the middle of Sunday morning Mass. The music clatters unprofessionally to a halt as laypeople, deacons, priests, monks, nuns, and the Pope all turn their attention to the surprised demon whose fifth course of dinner has turned, unaccountably, into a visit to one of his least favorite places on Earth.

There is chanting in Latin, and vaguely cross-shaped gestures, and clouds of incense, and the demon vanishes in a puff of smoke, whether from the efforts of the clergy or of his own volition no one can say. The Agent doesn’t wait, fleeing towards the doors and escaping in the confusion.

She gains the exit and walks, purposefully, toward Rome proper; there, she ducks into the nearest alley. A burner cell phone comes out of one of the less-used pockets of her purse, and she dials a number from memory.

"Allstate," says a smooth masculine voice after three rings.

"State Farm," she answers. "I’m calling in a favor."

"Yeah?" Interest. "What sort?"

As she talks she’s pulling out her smartphone, keying an app that was activated by the summoning, and pulling up the policyholder data that enabled the incantation to work.

"Insurance fraud," she said, and can almost hear teeth sharpening on the other end of the line. She gives him the name, the address, the policy number. "Someone needs some mayhem."

"That’s my name," the man says.

She smiles. “Someone needs all the mayhem.”

He chuckles. Slow. Evil. Even with the echoes of demonic laughter ringing in her ears, she’s impressed. “Don’t worry,” he says, almost purring.

"You’re in good hands."

OH MY FUCKING GOD I just read insurance commercial fan fiction and it was so good, bless you, I’m going to remember this day forever.

whatnursejack:

Part 2:

It’s not too long later—-State Farm will occasionally loan out their teleportation trick, though Heaven help anyone who tries to use it to compete with them—-and the man they call Mayhem is squatting next to a demonic circle with tacky half-dried blood under the leather soles of his shoes. Whoever dispelled the circle didn’t do a good job of it; the ring is still faintly smoldering and Mayhem has already singed his fingers on the air above it. He’s in the basement of a house with a State Farm homeowner’s policy, waiting for his partner in, erm, crime, to show up.

"Oh, good heavens." He smiles at the sound of someone hopping delicately back, then carefully tiptoeing through the mess. Demons are messy eaters, and Flo’s wearing all white.

She steps gingerly over what might be most of a femur, looks from circle to Mayhem to—-is that half a skull on the floor? “Freaky. Whaddaya need?”

"Tech," he says. "State Farm knows the homeowner summoned them, but the Agent reported at least five people present. Maybe six. She isn’t sure, what with being busy evading a demon inside a very small space with zappy walls."

Flo’s already got a—-where does she get those from anyway? a cardboard box in her hands. Mayhem watches as she unfolds it, refolds it, and ends up with something significantly bigger, shaped like a satellite dish. He tries to watch how she does it; they may be working together, but they’re still rivals and his own higher-ups will be very interested in the latest whatever-it-does that Progressive has come up with.

A blue glow lights up the concave side. Mayhem is pretty sure cardboard doesn’t work that way. Flo makes a pleased sound, and starts rattling off names, addresses, policy numbers.

Impressed, Mayhem asks, “How the fuck?” If Progressive is developing some sort of superspy technology, well, that’s kind of ominous.

Flo grins and looks embarrassed. “I, ah, have occasional dealings with a couple guys from That Other Insurance Company. One of them knows someone who knows someone who works in quality control for the Infernal Realms, and it turns out Hell monitors all their summoned manifestations for safety purposes. His contact got me the list of who was there.”

Mayhem nods. He’s had occasional encounters That Other Insurance Company himself. Bland, grey-suited, timid men who are even worse spies than they are insurance agents. “Wait, Hell has a quality control department?”

"And all other forms of administration," Flo says. "I understand it’s to generate maximum paperwork. It is a place of punishment, after all."

Mayhem actually winces. “That’s definitely hellish. All right. The Agent who called me in is flying back from Italy and should meet us in a few hours. Should give us plenty of time to plan an attack. Are they all State Farm customers?”

"Just the one," Flo replies, folding her toy up, and Mayhem watches with vague envy as it becomes a giant sword. "One Allstate, one Progressive, one Geico, two Farmers. We gonna invite anyone else to the party?" She hopes so. Mayhem’s precision strikes on any sort of insurance fraud perpetrators are the stuff of legend, and the Farmers guys would bring in enough absurdity to make it a work of art.

Mayhem’s grin is something that ought to haunt her nightmares. Instead, she finds herself matching it. “Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

I had to explain WHY insurance fanfiction should exist to an Australian who has not seen American insurance commercials. This is fucking gold.

We live in amazing times

*loves this soooooo much*

I WANT MORE

Kyraneko, please tell me you’re on AO3 and so is this!

tumblr has educated me on so many things and i can’t go on for a whole 5 minutes in real life without wanting to start a fight with someone

why is this happening

let him live

My mom will never let me live down the score I made on my 6th grade Bible studies mastery test.

Your URL just makes this 10,000x better

i don’t understand how my room keeps getting messy when i just lie in bed all day

I sometimes like to imagine a world where people wore whatever style they wanted without society judging them or ignorant people questioning the way the dressed 

like cyber goths

or steam punk

or lollita

or scene

or grunge

or punk

or goths

all just walking around with no strange looks from passers by and no judgement like it were the most normal thing a person could do 

so you want to live in the sims

Don’t we all

you alright?  

(x)

if you cut the tip off, how do you seal it when you save it for later?

^^^ Seriously. How do you store it after you open it?

Step one: 

step two: 

Y’all need Jesus. 

or even more easy way?

step 1

shots are currently being fired

World War III is going to be over milk, isn’t it …

this is on a level that i cannot reach

this is teen nick sitcom level

the signs as marvel characters

aries: gamora

taurus: hulk

gemini: groot

cancer: spiderman

leo: captain america

virgo: thor

libra: star lord

scorpio: ironman

sagittarius: loki

capricorn:  black widow

aquarius: rocket

pisces: hawkeye