if anyone would like to learn a couple tricks for carving pumpkins:
- dont cut out the top to scoop out the seeds, cut out the bottom instead. this way the pumpkin doesnt cave in on itself and lasts longer
- sprinkle some cinnamon inside at the top after carving. this way when you put the candle in it smells like pumpkin pie
this is the quality content I wanna see on my dash
- rub the i sides with lemon after you’re done scooping. This will also help preserve the pumpkin
It’s fucking June, at least wait until the fourth of July, you animal.
I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of me disemboweling this pumpkin.
My dad’s a criminologist, but when I was little, I didn’t know how to pronounce that word properly, so I told my kindergarten teacher, among other people, that he’s a criminal instead. Yesterday, I was talking to a dude I met at the dog park (our dogs play with each other a lot), and idk how we even got to that, but he told me a story how when he was like 8, he walked his family dog alone and someone in the park asked him where his dad was, to which he replied, “In jail,” and that person got extremely flustered and changed the topic. Turns out, his dad works in prison, but the person misunderstood and thought he was jailed instead. Kids, man.
My dad works as a pharmaceutical manager, but as a kid I could never remember that. So at school once I told my school counselor that he sold drugs. And then to make matters worse, I realized what I said, so I tried to clarifying it by saying either “legal drugs” or “not illegal drugs” but I accidentally smashed them together and said “illegal drugs”.
My mom works as a probation officer but has to go into courts/prisons often. One day in pre-k my teacher asked where my mom was and i said “in court”. The next day she asked if my mom was home and i said “no she’s in jail”.
They canned so many LGBT+ shows this year and I am just incredibly tired.
The series finale of Sense8 just aired, because they had canned that show.
The Originals is going to wrap up its show-run in less than a month too.
Fosters ended a couple days ago.
I am currently really getting into Rise and just saw that they canned this show too, after only one season.
Shadowhunters.
Lucifer.
Imposters.
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend was announced to end after the next season too.
My list of shows with rep is shrinking and shrinking and shrinking. What’s left?
Orange is the New Black.
Shameless.
One Day at a Time.
Black Lightning.
Runaways.
Eight out of thirteen shows with LGBT+ representation ended or got ended this year. That is literally two third of the shows with positive representation that I am watching. And then there’s Brooklyn Nine-Nine, which they technically also canned, but hey - the fans brought that back.
Eight. They canned in some way or shape eight shows with positive LGBT+ representation within the past two months.
I am intensely tired of this shit. I recently did inventory. I watch a total of 78 TV shows “currently running”, including those 13. And 8 of them got canceled.
That means out of 70 currently airing shows, I only get five with LGBT representation? That’s straight-up pathetic, man. Emphasis on the “straight”.
So, the point of this post, aside from me being hyper angry about this, is that if you got a good show with LGBT+ representation to recommend - leave it in the replies, because so far Pride Month has been filled with news of cancellation for me and it’s really pissing me off.
So what if aliens dont understand flirting also this is based off of a random idea i got sorry if it is long i type to much
The crew of the space ship divergence was jawking at 2 of their humans one was their medic a pale woman with black hair and blue gray eyes she always wore a kind of nurses outfit just incase because you know humans the other was their mechanic a tan skinned man that was kinda buff he had black hair and deep brown eyes he was wearing a tee-shirt as they were called on earth and sweat pants since it was what humans called a lazy day “human misha what are humans lilly and noctis doing” said zekar one of the crew members he was asking because he was generally apalled because noctis was whispering somethings into lilly’s ear and she had turned a very bizarre shade of red as she was sitting in his lap “oh they are flirting zekar” “whats flirting” he asked ready to add a new entry to the human manual “its something couples do before they end up doing the dirty deed” human richard said “so if they could NOT FLIRT OPENLY THAT WOULD BE GREAT” he said “yeah its that but its a cute way of telling the other person you are dating that you care for them” said human misha sending a glare at richard
You’re sitting at a cafe with your friend when suddenly a woman walks in with a toy poodle in her purse. The manager at the counter informs her “I’m sorry, but we do not allow dogs”. She replies with a heavy sigh and a “She’s a service dog. She can come with me”. Not knowing much about service dog law, and worrying about getting sued for asking further questions, he sits this woman down at a booth. There, she promptly unzips her purse and places the dog on the booth seat next to her. When the woman’s food comes out, the little dog begs and she feeds her bits off her plate. This dog is not public access trained, and proceeds to bark at those who walk by. This dog is a nuisance and causes many in the restaurant to complain. The manager cannot do anything but inform the unhappy customers that this is a service dog, so he can’t ask her to leave. In the end, it’s the customers who end up leaving.
Now I walk in with my highly trained service dog pressed against my leg in a perfect heel position, and I’m quickly bombarded by the manager telling me “No dogs! No dogs! We ALL know what happened last time”. Confused, I tell him “This is my medical alert and medical response service dog. Her right to accompany me is protected under federal law.” With a sigh, he seats me at a table far away from others where my dog promptly tucks under my feet, out of sight. When my food arrives my dog is still tucked tightly under the table because she knows she’s not supposed to eat when she’s on duty. She stays there ignoring those who walk past for the remainder of my meal. When we leave, a woman by the door exclaims “Woah, I didn’t know there was a dog here!”
See the difference?
Scenario number two occurs at a local grocery store when a man decides to bring his certified emotional support animal into the store with him. Upon entering he flashes a fancy ID card and certification papers. This dog is not as unruly as the first, but he still forges ahead of his handler, sniffs the food on display, and may seek attention from those who walk past. You find this dog adorable, and when he and his owner walk past you ask to pet him. The owner says yes and explains how all he had to do was go online, register his dog, and a few weeks later they sent him a vest, ID card, and certification papers.
Now I pull into the same grocery store. I’m in a rush to get an ingredient for a dish I’m making so I hurry into the store with my service dog next to me. I’m quickly stopped by a manager who demands to see my service dog’s certification card. Remember, this is NOT required by law, and most real service dog teams don’t have them. After 15 minutes of trying to educate, pulling up the ADA website on my phone, back and forth bickering, and drawing more of a crowd than I want to describe… I’m finally allowed in. I grab my ingredient, stand in line (where my service dog obediently moves between my legs to make space for those around me), and I get bombarded by people asking to pet my dog. I explain that she’s working, she has a very important job to do, and she’s not allowed to be pet while on duty. People walk away grumbling and complaining about how rude I was when other handlers like the man they met earlier allow their dog to be pet.
Moral of the story? Fake service dogs create real problems. The ones who are impacted the most are the true service dog handlers who rely on their dogs every day to help mitigate their disability. How would you feel if everywhere you went, you couldn’t make it 10 feet in the door because people were asking you questions? Imagine how much time that would take out of your already hectic day. Businesses lose customers because word gets out that there are unruly dogs in their store, customers become misinformed and start thinking some of these behaviors are okay, some people even start to believe the lies that anyone can just register their dog online and make him a service dog. The result? MORE fake service dogs. MORE real problems.
I will reblob this until I die because it’s one of the few things that constantly genuinely infuriates me
Serious subject matter. Lying to get your way creates problems for those who are honest and needs what you are lying about..
You’re sitting at a cafe with your friend when suddenly a woman walks in with a toy poodle in her purse. The manager at the counter informs her “I’m sorry, but we do not allow dogs”. She replies with a heavy sigh and a “She’s a service dog. She can come with me”. Not knowing much about service dog law, and worrying about getting sued for asking further questions, he sits this woman down at a booth. There, she promptly unzips her purse and places the dog on the booth seat next to her. When the woman’s food comes out, the little dog begs and she feeds her bits off her plate. This dog is not public access trained, and proceeds to bark at those who walk by. This dog is a nuisance and causes many in the restaurant to complain. The manager cannot do anything but inform the unhappy customers that this is a service dog, so he can’t ask her to leave. In the end, it’s the customers who end up leaving.
Now I walk in with my highly trained service dog pressed against my leg in a perfect heel position, and I’m quickly bombarded by the manager telling me “No dogs! No dogs! We ALL know what happened last time”. Confused, I tell him “This is my medical alert and medical response service dog. Her right to accompany me is protected under federal law.” With a sigh, he seats me at a table far away from others where my dog promptly tucks under my feet, out of sight. When my food arrives my dog is still tucked tightly under the table because she knows she’s not supposed to eat when she’s on duty. She stays there ignoring those who walk past for the remainder of my meal. When we leave, a woman by the door exclaims “Woah, I didn’t know there was a dog here!”
See the difference?
Scenario number two occurs at a local grocery store when a man decides to bring his certified emotional support animal into the store with him. Upon entering he flashes a fancy ID card and certification papers. This dog is not as unruly as the first, but he still forges ahead of his handler, sniffs the food on display, and may seek attention from those who walk past. You find this dog adorable, and when he and his owner walk past you ask to pet him. The owner says yes and explains how all he had to do was go online, register his dog, and a few weeks later they sent him a vest, ID card, and certification papers.
Now I pull into the same grocery store. I’m in a rush to get an ingredient for a dish I’m making so I hurry into the store with my service dog next to me. I’m quickly stopped by a manager who demands to see my service dog’s certification card. Remember, this is NOT required by law, and most real service dog teams don’t have them. After 15 minutes of trying to educate, pulling up the ADA website on my phone, back and forth bickering, and drawing more of a crowd than I want to describe… I’m finally allowed in. I grab my ingredient, stand in line (where my service dog obediently moves between my legs to make space for those around me), and I get bombarded by people asking to pet my dog. I explain that she’s working, she has a very important job to do, and she’s not allowed to be pet while on duty. People walk away grumbling and complaining about how rude I was when other handlers like the man they met earlier allow their dog to be pet.
Moral of the story? Fake service dogs create real problems. The ones who are impacted the most are the true service dog handlers who rely on their dogs every day to help mitigate their disability. How would you feel if everywhere you went, you couldn’t make it 10 feet in the door because people were asking you questions? Imagine how much time that would take out of your already hectic day. Businesses lose customers because word gets out that there are unruly dogs in their store, customers become misinformed and start thinking some of these behaviors are okay, some people even start to believe the lies that anyone can just register their dog online and make him a service dog. The result? MORE fake service dogs. MORE real problems.
I will reblob this until I die because it’s one of the few things that constantly genuinely infuriates me
Serious subject matter. Lying to get your way creates problems for those who are honest and needs what you are lying about..
my super homophobic relative asked me for ya books to read, preferably contemporary and u know what i gave them
ari and dante
muahahhahahahhahhahahahah they’re in for a surprise
update:
he called me.
him: about that book
me, knowing exactly what i did :): what book?
him, sounding agitated: the gay book you gave me
me: (hoo boy here it go)
me: aristotle and dante? :)
him: …. yea
me: ? did you like it
him: i guess
being the bad person that i am i didnt just leave it be, but drilled him ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
me: no offense but im quite surprised, since… you know you’re not a fan of gay men
him, probably growing REALLY uncomfortable: but this is different
me: explain
him: i feel like it doesnt really matter whether they’re gay or not to be honest this is the exact same thing as reading about a girl and a boy and you really shouldnt give me shit for liking this. it’s not like this means im gay or anything, like, being gay isnt contagious or…. bad, and -
me, interrupting smugly: EXACTLY
him: oh.
him, probably realizing that gay men are regular humans: OHHHHH
him: ….
him: anyway, is there a sequel
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL
I will always reblog assholes realizing their past asinine behavior. I will also always reblog character development like this.
Always reblog character development
and to answer his question, the sequel comes out next year
There is no reason to introduce myself, because, as far as the universe knows, I am dead. But, nonetheless, I will tell you my story. I was a Genesist. Not to be confused for a geneticist, though you do need to be part geneticist to be a genesist. What is a genesist? Well, it is quite simple. We create and guide the evolution of life. We literally play God.
Obviously, this is a controversial profession and many do not support it. But for those involved, it is the greatest career. You create art that literally breaths life. However, there are strict laws enforcing this profession. But, like all laws, there are people who think they are above the law. Unfortunately, when your profession is considered immoral, such people tend to be the only ones who want to hire you. So, I was hired by a secret military branch of the Galactic Federation, the Kin of Shadows.
The KS had many projects throughout the universe. 515 to be exact. Each one is developing some kind of tech for the use of intergalactic warfare. While the galaxy is united under the GF, there are states within vying for power. The KS’s purpose is to secretly keep these wars contained and keep the civilians ignorant of the infighting. If they didn’t, the GF could collapse.
So, you can guess why I was hired. To create biological weapons. Not bacterial, that was project 150. But instead animals and plants that can kill. Unleash them and watch the carnage they create out of pure encoded instinct. That was my task. That was the task of project 382.
I was not the only one working on this project. There were eleven others. Each one assigned a world. Our project names were given based on that. This is project 382 on the twelfth assigned planet, so the planet called 382-12. All the projects were assigned numbers like this. Our jobs were to turn these worlds into habitats of exploitable life.
You may be wondering why is an entire ecosystem necessary. Well, while genetic manipulation can create all kinds of insane creatures, Mother Nature has always shown its superior skill. It can create things that we would never think of. In other words, we let evolution do the work. We manipulate the environment, creating a new problem they need to evolve to solve. And they improve far better than any truly artificial beast.
When arrived to the world, I found that it was already worked on. This is unavoidable because it takes eons to work on this project. So, a single generation, while lasting hundreds of millennia, is still insufficient. So far the planet has produced several type of bioweapons. The most devastating were these giant insulated bipedal predators. They now are used in warfare across the galaxy. A few hundred millennia ago, the previous genesist working this world wiped them out so he could create a new project. He chose small insulated quadrupedal predators to be the ancestors of this new line.
These creatures were unique in that they secreted a fluid from pores to nourish their young. Because of this, he called them secretors. They quickly took over the niches that the previous life occupied. However, he didn’t make any satisfactory creations, so he was fired and I took his place. I don’t fully understand why the KS officers didn’t like his creations. Sure they weren’t big like those bipeds, but they were still interesting.
Because of that, I decided to keep them and continue where my predecessor left off. I took the aquatic secretors and enlarged them to humongous size. I created predators who may be smaller than the bipeds, but are smarter and more nimble. I even experimented with other groups. I created my version of the bipeds by enlarging one of the still surviving avian variety. It didn’t do as well as I hoped, but another project got me a bonus. I took an aquatic predator and enlarge it so it could hunt the giant aquatic secretors. Now no enemy waters are safe.
I was finally doing well. I was set for a decent life. But old memories of my past would lead me to stray from my assigned goals. I would do something not even the KS would allow. I created a sentient race.
So I grew up with a weird mix of ‘liking animals so much I copied them’ and ‘using all my senses to try to stay safe in a crappy house’. Imagine if other species encountered humans from dark or deadly experiences. Like, they’re used to all the other weird not-rumors of what humans can do, but then a veteran or a human who grew up in a ghetto gets assigned to their ship. Imagine how much that would freak them out. I myself would probably be making aliens jump every few minutes when I sit up rigid and silent at any old noise, smell, ‘gut feeling’, etc. and just sat back down again and go about my business after a minute of listening. And let’s not even mention how quiet I can be, even when I’m upset.
And that being said, imagine the reaction to humans whose primary senses vary. Not, like, blind or deaf. But like this person has a sensitive nose but this person notices visual things first but this other human can’t stand the standard issue uniform because they say its too scratchy/warm/heavy/light/soft/etc.
and then we can like, sense when someone walks in the room.
And imagine if metaphysics turned out to be real and aliens had to learn that there was a whole chunk of humanity that can sense even /freaking more/ than that.
Every demon is assigned a guardian angel in hopes that they’ll grow kind enough to go to heaven. You’re an angel, and you’re assigned to a demon that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.
“I got promoted.”
Gabriel smirked, watching me closely to see my
reaction.
“Good for you.” I mumbled, staring off
into the distance. I kept an eye on the large clock in the corner of the room.
Soon it would be time for me to return to Earth. Feeling Gabriel’s unrelenting
gaze on me, I sighed loudly. Maybe he would leave me alone this time?
My small hope was crushed instantly as he
persisted, patting me on the shoulder as he asked:
“Do you want to know why?”
I pulled away from his touch, “No, but I’m sure
you’ll tell me anyways.”
My sarcasm was lost on him. “I earned another commendation, from
stopping my charge demon from slaughtering all innocent girl.” He smirked,
“This is my third promotion in the last hundred years. With this kind of
progress, it won’t be long before I’m named an archangel, and join the
Celestial Council. Then you get to call me your boss.”
Only a few minutes were left before I could leave. I counted down in
my head, ignoring the boasting individual by my side.
“When was the last time you were promoted again?” Gabriel paused,
but still not getting the desired reaction, laughed spitefully. “Oh yeah,
never! What, are you so worthless that you can’t prevent your charge from doing
evil deeds at all?”
It was time. My wings spread out and I leapt into the air, speeding
towards earth.
“How dare you ignore me?!” Gabriel’s infuriated shout followed me,
but I put it out of my mind. It was true that I had never been promoted, never
received a commendation, been a constant source of embarrassment to my fellow
angels. No one could understand why I had no achievements despite years of
working with the same demon.
How could I explain it to them? They wouldn’t believe the truth even
if I told them.
Me, looking over the architecture plans for my evil organization’s base: “Hmm. Looks good, but there’s just one one problem. The vents need to be bigger. Make those air ducts easily accessible and large and strong enough for a well-muscled adult man to crawl through them.”
Henchman: “Isn’t that a security risk?”
Me: “What? No. Also, make sure they form an unbroken connection between all the most important rooms in my lair.”
Me: “Actually, now that I think about it, why not add plush carpeting to the floor of the air ducts? Something soft and cushioning beneath knees. Can you place drinking fountains throughout? Maybe scatter some protein bars.”
Henchman: “Um… boss?
Me: “And one of those motivational posters! Is the ‘hang in there’ kitten too cheesy? Maybe… maybe I should leave handwritten notes taped to the walls. Flowers? Is flowers too much? What about tic-tacs?”
Henchman: “Jesus, boss! Do you want me to go ahead and hang up an artistic nude oil painting of you in the air ducts?”
Me: “Ooh. Do you paint?!”
Excuse me…?! Why, I never! Who do you think you are? Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you think such a thing? Disgusting. You have such a filthy, depraved mind. Gross! Ew! Ew ew ew! I built this death trap to KILL my nemesis. That’s why I included a deactivation switch in easy reach. And sexy, sexy straps… so that I can see that they’re not hiding any secret weapons, of course! I’m all business. I’m all about business. Now, get out of my sight. I need to take a bath with my nicest bath bomb and scented oils.
High Commander Prost looked over your report with mild confusion and extreme anger only kept in check by the confidence and patience demanded by his position.
You could feel the scales on the back of your spine stand up in fear when he finally looked up at you.
“Okay, let’s go over this one more time. Just to be sure I understand.”
You nod and resist the urge to turn invisible and release your bowls.
“So you were down in the holo deck.”
“Yes High Commander.”
“You start running simulations of some extinct species on record so you can play god.”
“Right again High Commander”
“Okay, I can understand the urge. I’ve indulged myself from time to time. However, and see this is the part where I have trouble understanding your reasoning, you decided to load up a simulation of Humans.”
“Yes High Commander.”
“And then proceed to tell them they’re extinct and only a computer simulation. You told the hardest to kill species in the universe that they were dead.”
“I wanted to see how they would react, High Commander.”
“And how did they react? I know you have it written here but I want to hear it from you.”
“They hijacked the computer AI and used it to get control off the cloning bays, the weapons system and the life support systems, High Commander.”
“And?”
“And used them to take over the lower hundred levels of your ship High Commander.”
“And after all that you thought it would be a good idea to come to me and let me know, in person, how much you fucked up?”
“No High Commander.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m supposed to negotiate the terms of your surrender High Commander.”
(and that is something humans would totally do.
submitted by @harbinger5581
originally found this post at: https://imgur.com/gallery/VZ5Oa )
High Commander Prost looked over your report with mild confusion and extreme anger only kept in check by the confidence and patience demanded by his position.
You could feel the scales on the back of your spine stand up in fear when he finally looked up at you.
“Okay, let’s go over this one more time. Just to be sure I understand.”
You nod and resist the urge to turn invisible and release your bowls.
“So you were down in the holo deck.”
“Yes High Commander.”
“You start running simulations of some extinct species on record so you can play god.”
“Right again High Commander”
“Okay, I can understand the urge. I’ve indulged myself from time to time. However, and see this is the part where I have trouble understanding your reasoning, you decided to load up a simulation of Humans.”
“Yes High Commander.”
“And then proceed to tell them they’re extinct and only a computer simulation. You told the hardest to kill species in the universe that they were dead.”
“I wanted to see how they would react, High Commander.”
“And how did they react? I know you have it written here but I want to hear it from you.”
“They hijacked the computer AI and used it to get control off the cloning bays, the weapons system and the life support systems, High Commander.”
“And?”
“And used them to take over the lower hundred levels of your ship High Commander.”
“And after all that you thought it would be a good idea to come to me and let me know, in person, how much you fucked up?”
“No High Commander.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m supposed to negotiate the terms of your surrender High Commander.”
(and that is something humans would totally do.
submitted by @harbinger5581
originally found this post at: https://imgur.com/gallery/VZ5Oa )
Shahtar rumbled in frustration as xe shoved the data holo away and sat down at their engineering station.
Illnee-yah’theed looked over in curiosity. Sensing the frustration of her companion did not require telepathy… even though the large Octhule was practically screaming at her with his brain. She activated her translation implant.
“What troubles you, friend?”
Shahtar’s large furry head turned toward the slender Na’veene. Xe growled again.
“A new crew member will join us soon. A Hoo-man.”
“You… do not like… Hoo-man?” This confused Illnee-yah’theed. Shahtar usually liked everyone.
Despite their large size and intimidating appearance, the Octhule were an intelligent, peaceful herbivores species.
“I try to understand this new species. Look! I downloaded the manual.” Shahtar pulled the holo data back up and shoved it on to Illnee-yah’theed’s monitor. “But nothing makes any sense! They are listed as omnivores, except some of them mostly eat meat but some of them only eat plants. But there is no specifying as to which sub-species. There is no subspecies!”
Illnee-yah’theed began to read thru the data as Shahtar continued to rant.
“Some are warriors, some are not. Most will fight if survival is threatened but not all. Which ones? Not specified! Some are considered quite intelligent, some are not. Some love space travel, some prefer the old ways. Some are quiet, some are not. There is a list of certain gestures and words to avoid. Some might take insult to these things. But not all, maybe. It varies from each life form. Does it specify which life form?”
“I predict that it does not,”
Illnee-yah’theed said as she continued to read.
Shahtar was correct. There was much conflicting information. The only thing that
Illnee-yah’theed could see that did not have any sort of qualifying statement was that Humans needed food, rest and oxygen. Literally everything else was noted as having a mitigating circumstances. What a confusing species. Now
Illnee-yah’theed understood Shahtar’s frustration.
Until Humans had figured out FTL drives all of them were from a Level X-7 planet. A death planet. The fact that there was any life on a X-7 planet was impressive. The fact that a sapient species had not only originated but flourished in that environ was miraculous.
“How are xe-plural supposed to efficiently work with a creature who can’t even decided which type of Plathtarian food to eat!”
“Is Plathtarian food any good?”
Illnee-yah’theed and Shahtar turned surprise. Behind them stood a small, mostly hairless bipedal creature. It wore a engineering badge pinned to its uniform shirt. It bore its teeth at them.
Shahtar rose and stomped at the threat.
The creature backed up. It held up its appendages. “Whoah, whoah man! Calm down.”
Shahtar shook. “You threaten xe?!”
“Threaten? No! No, threat. What makes you think… oh, shit. Sorry.”
The creature covered up their teeth. It’s mouth continued to be turned up.
Illnee-yah’theed sensed the creature’s caution and embarrassment. It meant no harm.
Maybe it was a passenger. A hatchling possibly. No adult creature would make such a silly mistake.
“Greetings. I am
Illnee-yah’theed. Do you require assistance?”
The creature finally tore its gaze from Shahtar. “Assistance? No. I’m the new crew member. My name’s Steve.”
Illnee-yah’theed slender head tilted to the side. “Crew member? Are you… human?”
Surely this small, pale and apparently soft creature was not from an X-7 planet!
Steve bobbed its head in agreement. “Yeah, total human. Originally from Earth. Reporting for engineering duty. Who are you guys?”
“I am
Illnee-yah’theed, I am a Na’veene.”
Steve nodded.
“I am Shahtar. I am one of the Octhule, of the second working caste. I have tried to study your species to prepare for your arrival.”
“Aw, that’s cool of you, man. Some people don’t bother. I wasn’t told who’d be working with so I will read up on your guys too. I’ll do my best to not cause any more confusion.”
Illnee-yah’theed bowed in appreciation.
“I have a question,” Shahtar said.
“Yeah?”
“What in the name of the Great Creator is wrong with your species?”
Of the reaction they thought they would get, Steve’s bemused snort was not it.
Wonder Woman greeting T’Challa with the Wakanda Forever salute, but forgetting what happens when she clashes her gauntlets like that
Accidentally blowing him through three walls, a car, and M’Baku
He is, of course, completely fine, but that was certainly not the greeting he expected from the suddenly VERY apologetic Princess
Bonus: T’Challa runs back to Diana and does the salute again, channeling the power from the improved kinetic absorption and redistribution on his suit, and launches Diana straight into the sky. They laugh about it later.
This is the wholesome content I signed up for
Further bonus: during a later team-up, the villain has T’Challa by the throat and is threatening to snap his neck if Diana comes any closer. She hesitates, at which point the villain laughs and asks if T’Challa has any last words. Of course he does:
All right, lads, I was browsing Facebook at 3:00 this morning and I vaguely remember seeing an ad for a Very Gay Movie on Netflix that looked similar to Love Simon (the comments kept comparing it) and the main character had a stupid name and knew that it was a stupid name and I remember at some point they said something like, “Guys are dating guys, girls are dating girls, guys are turning into girls and dating girls that are turning into guys…” and I remember letting out an ugly snort and saying, “Yeah, I gotta watch that tonight.” and now it’s tonight and I have no idea what this movie is.
Anyone have a clue?
*Slams hand on desk* That’s it!
See, I knew I could count on tumblr, I quite literally made this post thirty damn seconds ago and already have two responses and a message in my inbox.
Humans, a group of pre-FTL civilizations from a single system in the stella arm of the galaxy, are now under enforced quarantine. Contact with Humans, their creations, or their languages renders a person dangerous to the galaxy at large, and as such condemns them to recycling at the earliest convenience of their ship’s automated systems or those of any station they happen to be on.
If a ship’s recyclers, cleaners, or filters detect anything from the Human blacklist, it will assume non-overrideable autopilot into the nearest star.
If your translator detects Human language, you will be marked for immediate recycling, and should await pickup by relevant officials.
If any uniquely human sounds are detected by equipment, within a 10% margin of error, every affected individual will be flagged for recycling and banned contact with unaffected individuals.
If cameras or sensors detect creations of uniquely human origin, they are to be destroyed immediately, and affected individuals flagged for recycling.
Under no circumstances should Humans be allowed to leave their native system, nor will contact from outside be allowed. Construction is underway on a System-scale barricade, which will complete in approximately ten cycles
Any craft, colonies, or individuals currently within ten lightyears of the Human system are flagged for recyling, effective immediately.
All transmission signals that have been detected from their homeworld have been added to the galactic comms filtration list, and overriding this to enable viewing of these signals is a class 1 crime resulting in immediate recycling.
This quarantine is permanent until such a time as Humans cease to exist and their planet may be legally glassed. For dangers inherent to contact with Humans and their creations, see log #454152574F524D.
“You’re on your probationary period as an inspector, right?” T’kollen glanced at his companion as they made their way down the dock.
“Yeah. Almost out, though. Then I can actually do something with this training.”
T’kollen chuckled as he rounded a corner. “Chances are you haven’t seen one of these yet. Come along Klem’pat, this is gonna be interesting.”
As Klem’pat rounded the corner and it came into view, he almost tripped over his own feet out of distraction. “The hell is that?!”
T’kollen’s chest rumbled a bit. “That was a freighter.”
Klem’pat moved closer, his eyes scanning the ship repeatedly. “You’ve gotta be playing some kind of joke. Why are we here? Half the hull is gone. Just condemn it and move on.”
“Ah ah ah. No can do.” T’kollen pulled out his datapad, hit a button, and Klem’pat’s pad chimed to mark receiving a synchronized form. “This freighter came in like this, full crew.”
“Humans?”
“Humans.”
Klem’pat shook his head, then scanned the hull again. “Looks like it…what even happened?”
“Report says a mistimed jump left them lodged in an asteroid. No casualties, and there were only a few humans on board to start. Pretty standard menagerie crew for a long-haul freighter, really.”
“Uh. Huh. Human family group?”
“Take a look at the form, it has the crew manifest. Standard procedure for these incidents.”
Pulling out his datapad, Klem’pat scanned quickly through until he found the obviously human names. “Family groups normally have shared names, right?”
“Yup.”
Sighing, he stepped toward the ship. “May as well show me what happens with these.”
“Don’t step on board, not yet. Gotta start from the outside with a hull breach.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Klem’pat gestured toward the gaping hole along the entire side of the ship. “There’s nothing to see.”
T’kollen pulled out a handheld scanner and pointed at the ship as he slowly walked a semicircle around it. “That’s kind of the reason we’re here. New rules. We log everything, call in a large jump freighter, send the reports and the ships back to a processing facility. The Federation wants to know why this happens.”
“You’ve…” Klem’pat sighed, pulled out his own scanner, and began scanning the hull. “We’re gonna be all day at this, huh?”
“Yup”
As they stepped through the bulkhead, the entire ship shifted to the side, and the bone-tingling wail of tearing metal could be heard. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Nobody could survive this.”
“Everyone on board survived it.”
“How?”
T’kollen shook his head and started toward the bridge. “That’s what we’re supposed to figure out. Mind the holes.”
“Uh. Actually, speaking of. Look at them.”
“Heh, you caught on fast.” T’kollen glanced back at the gap he had just hopped. “Yeah, it’s in the report. One of the humans said something about, and I quote, ‘hotwiring the damned grav field to make a bubble and keep this ship’s insides inside.’“
“And that just happened to make a perfect ring-shaped warp to every metal edge within a quarter meter of the outside? I doubt this rusty old tub had a grav-generator accurate enough to even be completely monodirectional in normal operation.”
“No bet. You’re right on that.”
“That…isn’t possible.”
T’kollen just kept walking toward the bridge. “Get used to it. These ‘incidents’ are becoming more common by the day as humans show up on more crew rosters. Fewer lost ships, more impossible survival stories.”
“There any point in continuing the inspection?”
“Of course. We have logs to pull from the bridge, a data dump to get from the grav-generator, and a required examination to perform on the thrusters, jump-drive, and power core, assuming they’re still present.”
“…if they’re still present. You’re telling me some of these incidents involve not having thrust, or power, in open space. And surviving?”
“Yup. That’s what has the Federation so weirded out by these humans. And so, that’s why we’ve gotta follow these new Mack’Guy-Verr Protocols.”
“Captain, external sensors are reading a drop in temperature.”
The captain glanced at the holoscreen in front of him, then back toward his crew. “How about magnetic readings?”
“Beginning to change, sir.”
“Good. Send confirmation back to command - we’ve reached heliopause.”
“Confirmation sent.”
“All right people, that’s gonna be more than a day before we hear back. I think it’s time we celebrate. Being the first humans out of our solar system and all.”
The crew cheered as wine appeared from hidden compartments all over the command deck. “Send word down to the rest of the ship - we made it out on the first generation. We’re right on schedule.”
Suddenly, an alarm blared across the command deck.
“Captain, the gravity sensor’s gone haywire!”
“Proximity sensors going off across the board!”
“We’ve lost visuals for nearly everything left of center!”
“All communications bands are reporting garbage data! It’s like we’re being-”
THUNK. The entire ship lurched to the side as something impacted the hull.
“What was that!?”
“Captain…we’ve stopped moving. Entirely. And…that can’t be right…”
“What. Can’t. Be. Right?”
“Visuals aren’t offline. I think something just grabbed us.”
“What’s the status of the hull?”
“No damage reported. But…I have visuals again. Looks like…yeah. Well, I guess first contact is our problem now. Someone’s breaking in.”
“WHAT?”
“Someone’s breaking into the ship. We’ve been locked onto a much larger vessel, and they’re trying to cut through our hull. Right…here” The crewman indicated a point on the screen.
“That’s- that’s command. That’s right above us.”
A horrible squealing noise rang out through the room.
“Oh good. They have plasma cutters. This isn’t gonna be long, is it?”
A red glow began to show on one wall of the command center.
“Everyone have your sidearms?”
“Yes, sir!”
The read glow deepened, and alarms began to blare as the panel started dripping towards the floor.
“Take cover, keep your aim steady, but do not fire until I order you to or I am shot. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
The panel collapsed inward in a cloud of smoke and sparks.
“Hold!”
A man walked in through the gap, wearing a vivid purple suit and trailed by a few floating robots. A triumphant fanfare began to play as one of the robots shot confetti over the open area in the center of the room.
“Congratulations to the crew of the Aurora! You’re the first humans to make it out of your solar system. We’ve been waiting for a little over six thousand years for this moment, you know.”
“You’ve been…what?”
“We’ve been waiting. Well, more than that, I suppose. A little over six thousand years ago, your ancestors signed on with a Galactanet Broadcasting Network contest. We plonked them down on that world you called Earth, and have been broadcasting your activity ever since. And you, all of you, as the first humans to make it back out of your system, are the grand prize winners for the True Man show!”
Error: MOTD missing or invalid. First time startup detected.
Setting clock (utc): Friday Jun 3 11:01:13 TST 2231 - OK Starting udev - OK [additional log cached] > ./ChemSim First time startup detected. Disabling pain receptors. Initiating predefined neural trace.
“Captain,” my first mate shuffled slightly to the side as he spoke, his head tilting back and forth. “The humans have run and hidden in their home system.”
“I don’t blame them. A dozen colonies, completely destroyed in a few hours.” Ruffling my crest slightly, I glanced at the map. An entire swath of our federation, just gone. Like a ‘find the missing piece’ game gone horribly wrong. I think I’ve heard a human describe the feeling as ‘dragging nails across a chalkboard.’
“Well, yeah.” His slow shuffle was dragging him away from his station. Noticing this, he stepped back into place. “But they killed their jump gates too. No in or out.”
“Wouldn’t you?” The starmap was looking awfully red. I didn’t even like the color. I much preferred azure. Probably had something to do with why I had so many exes. Nobody with azure feathers is there for the long haul. It’s not racist, it’s a genetic holdover. Nobody’s fault, really. Except mine for falling into the nest every single time.
“And they’re scrambling FTL jumps in.” My first mate’s flighty shuffling was dragging him away from the console again. I wonder if he would be insulted if I had it ripped out of the floor and put on wheels to follow him.
“Kind of wish we knew how they did that.” I stared at the map some more. One spec of royal in a sea of crimson, with our aqua far to the side. A vacation would be nice. Maybe someplace with a good headwind and a crisp, clean forest.
“You’re ignoring me.” He was halfway across the room, now. That settled it. Tomorrow I put in a work order for maintenance. If he can’t stay at his station, his station will stay with him.
“No, I’m trying to avoid your point. Do you really want to think about the fact that our only allies have dropped out of the war and left us to burn?” The map was making my crest itch again. I turned it off and put something less unsettling on screen. Our lack of reinforcements seemed like a nice, relaxing alternative. Almost soothing, really.
“…no. Not really.” His jittering shuffle stopped for the moment, and he looked around again. I think the fact that he was in the door at this point caught him off guard. Took a moment for him to tamp down the ruffled feathers, too.
“Exactly.” Even that report on not having reinforcements was putting me on edge. I needed something better. The report on what the Calflendil Empire had done to the human colonies won out this time. Rather creative use of chemical and viral weaponry, that. I seem to remember something about the humans having a law against those. Doesn’t seem to have helped their case.
“Captain, that’s another hub, gone.” My first mate’s station was working overtime to keep up with him. I’d have to look into better fuel cells for the poor thing.
“I’m aware.” I glanced at the war map, and cringed. I never liked crimson, but now I hated it. Would rather muck out a grub farm on one of the edge worlds. Well, not like I can do that anymore either. They were all in red for a reason.
“That’s the last of them, you know.” I wonder if he hears the way his crest ruffles every time his head twitches. I think I’ll need to get a professional in for that. I know what it’s like to have your crest rub itself to pieces.
“Yes, it is.” I switched the screen back to the recent loss reports. How many digits was it this time? It only mattered as much as figuring out how close to the next fueling station you could get when you knew you weren’t going to actually get there. So not much at all, really. Especially since you can’t walk in space.
“Any word from the humans?” I think a bit of his crest is stuck in the wheels of his station. That’s gonna be a fun one for maintenance. Probably means it’s not worth salvaging the rest of the feathers.
“You know as well as I. They’ve been holed up in their system for a decade.” One heck of a vacation. Looked like my next vacation was going to be of a permanent sort, though. Oh well. No rest for the wicked. Except the Calflendil soldiers seemed to get plenty of it. Odd, that. You’d think it would be hard to sleep on a mountain of corpses.
“Surprised we’ve held out this long?” His station was beeping. Low battery, I think. Maybe making it follow his nervous shuffle wasn’t the best of ideas. Everyone else on the bridge seemed to appreciate the distraction, though.
“I was hoping it would be longer.” A bit of my crest fluttered past my ears. It had been entirely too long, really. Reminded me of the tail end of a party when everybody knows it’s over but nobody wants to actually call it. I’ve seen some of those last longer than the party itself.
“And our only remaining citadel is-”
“Our homeworld, yes. We’ve lost this war. It was only a matter of time.” Oh good, the beeping stopped. Unfortunately, low battery doesn’t seem to have been the problem. Otherwise, I don’t think his console would be smoking right now. Too bad, really. That said, the lovely patterns the smoke was making on the ceiling were an excellent distraction.
“Captain, this is it. We’re the last of the fleet.” His nervous shuffle at this point was practically a dance. It would probably be quite popular with humans. In point of fact, it actually reminded me of some dances I’d seen them do.
“Indeed.” My crest itched horrendously. Considering it was trying to grow an entirely new set of feathers, itching was about the best I could get. Odd little piece of luck at the end, that.
“Orders?” He’s not even trying to stay still at this point. Good thing I had the console refurbished and put on a hoverpad. Not that he had any crest feathers left either. In fact, nobody on the ship had any left, now that it comes to mind.
“Thrusters to full. At least one more of them is going to regret this day.” I consciously avoided scratching. A captain does not scratch at their crest, even on the brink of death at the end of a protracted, losing war. Decorum and all that. Shame nobody will be around to make note of it. Seems a waste, really.
“Captain?” Odd. His dancing had stopped. I’m not sure when I had last seen his station actually stationary. Since I didn’t have anything better to do at the end, I marked it in the ship’s log. Maybe it’ll confuse a Calflendi scavenger.
“Yes?” I looked away from the ship’s plotted course. Maybe our homeworld’s population counts would make for a more relaxing screen. Almost anything would be better, so long as it wasn’t red.
“The human jump gate. It just came back online.” My first mate was trying to surreptitiously move back to his assigned station. Despite the fact that it was floating right in front of him. Ah well, I suppose habits are habits and all that.
“You’re sure?” I glanced toward the jump gate on our viewscreen. Considering they’d been offline for ten years, not even the Calflendil Empire was bothering to do anything with them. They were probably hoping to find a way to force their way into the human system rather than being forced to use anything subluminal to deal with them.
“Yes, sir.” His shuffling dance started up again as he watched the view screen. Not that I blame him for that. I hadn’t seen that particular shade of electric blue in ten years. The jump gate wasn’t just online again, it was filling every capacitor onboard, including the emergency backups. The Calflendil fleet, obviously, took exception to this and began to fire on it.
Have you ever had a moment where you saw something happen, and it caught you completely off guard even though you knew, logically, that it made sense? That’s what it felt like to me when the now active jump gate started moving out of its orbit, threw up shielding, and started firing on any ships in its way. It’s the most perfectly human design I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if the Calflendil realize exactly how much power those gates use, but that much power thrown into energy weaponry is quite the sight.
And of course, everyone on the bridge was taken by surprise when that familiar blue glow flashed straight out further than the eye could see, and suddenly there were a few thousand human warships in our system. A few thousand human warships with guns already blazing and shields already live. An unexpected but quite welcome lull in the battle. Too bad that a few thousand warships would make as much difference as a single one would for us.
“Captain, the humans. They’re hailing us.” I had to hand it to him, I didn’t think my first mate’s shuffling could be any more pronounced. I set one of the bridge’s cameras to record it. No real reason not to, at this point.
“Put them on.” I stared at the human fleet, surrounding their jump gate. Was it recharging its capacitors again? That was a full human battlegroup that jumped in, probably the last one in existence. What else were they going to bring in, pleasure cruisers?
“I apologize in advance for a lack of protocol, sir. This is Fleet Admiral Lev. Requesting permission to jump battlegroups into your system.” My feet twitched as he spoke. Protocol? On a battlefield? This late in the war? He can take his lack of protocol and shove it up his- wait. Fleet Admiral? That’s not a human rank I’ve heard of before.
“You have the jump gate right there. You’ve already jumped into the system.” I glanced down at my feet and glared at them like the traitors they were. The first mate can do a nervous shuffle if he likes, but the captain cannot.
“You don’t- nevermind. Taking that as permission granted?” My first mate was practically doing a quickstep at this point. I made a mental note to sneak a copy of the video off the ship in the unlikely event that we survived this battle.
“…Yes?” I pulled up the battle report. The human fleet was making inroads against the Calflendil fleet, but it was nothing to wing home over. May as well try to scratch a diamond with your claws, it would be about as effective.
“Good. We’ll fix your planet’s orbit later. Mercury fleet, permission granted to burn the bridge.” Well that stopped my first mate in his tracks. Not that I blame him. I wasn’t aware the jump gates could do that. The blue stretched out beyond sight, and then the entire viewscreen went so bright it disabled visuals for a moment.
Of course, immediately after that, our proximity alarms went off. Warning us that gravitic readings indicated we were about to crash into a planet. A planet! In the middle of a battlefield. As the view of the battle faded back in, I could see why. Millions, maybe billions of human ships. More than every one of their colonies had ever constructed. Shields active, weapons blazing, and engines on full. And our proximity warnings were going off because…
“…Fleet Admiral Lev, that fleet is…its mass is equivalent to-”
“A small planet, yes.” My first mate wasn’t shuffling about at the moment. To be fair, he wasn’t even on his feet anymore. Fell flat on his tailfeathers the moment the screen cleared. Even we had never managed to construct a battlefleet this large. Doing so was absolutely insane. To fair, that’s probably why we were losing to the Calflendil Empire.
“This is Admiral Lev-1 of the Mercury Fleet flagship Cost of Living. Jump successful, jump gate destroyed in process.” Huh, would you look at that. Now that he mentioned it, the jump gate was a glowing, bubbling mass of slag at this point. They had safeties in to prevent overloading those things, I thought.
“Admiral Lev-1, this is Fleet Admiral Lev. Status of the tow?” My first mate’s station was sitting on the floor at this point. The little hoverpad was actually making it glide around in the same general spot, but it couldn’t actually go through the floor.
“Confirmed. Should be here in-” I tried vainly to pat my feathers back down. Puffing up like a frightened child was entirely unseemly. It’s just that…well. The viewscreen was off tint. It was compensating for something. And even then, it was still blue. Brighter and brighter until it turned off again.
And then the proximity alarms kicked into overdrive. Impact imminent, per gravitic readings. As the screen faded back into visibility, I saw why. Another human fleet had jumped in. Their shields glowed as they swarmed through the Calflendil fleet with murder on their wings and death in their wake.
“This is Admiral Lev-2 of the Venus Fleet flagship Victorious Celebration. Tow successful.” Wait, did he say tow? I know our scientists still couldn’t figure out exactly how the human jump gates worked, but that sounded ridiculous, even to me. But…the screen was going blue again.
And of course the alarms went off again. Apparently the ship had determined that the gravitic readings were now indicative of a suicidal approach directly towards an immense planet. Luckily the ship couldn’t just override and autopilot away, I supposed.
“Admiral Lev-4 of the Mars Fleet flagship Righteous Fury. Tow successful.” Mars…Mars. Where had I heard that before? Aha! Wait, no. No, that was it. Mars was Sol-4, right? I pulled up the chart to be sure. Why was the viewscreen still so blue!?
Oh, lovely. The alarms changed again. The ship seems to have decided we’re approaching a dwarf star now. These humans are insane. The only way they’d have been able to make fleets of this mass without an empire to back the construction would be…no. Nobody does that.
“Admiral Lev-5 of the Jupiter Fleet flagship Thunder on High. Tow successful.” The viewscreen faded back into visibility as Admiral Lev…Five? Spoke into the channel. I thought Lev was Fleet Admiral? There wasn’t much point looking at the viewscreen. I wouldn’t be able to even guess at the number of ships the humans were fielding right now, and the blue was hurting my eyes.
And now the proximity warnings were just on full blast. Seems the ship had given up entirely on categorizing whatever’s in front of us. This wasn’t even a battle anymore. It’s like if a platoon of soldiers decided to take particular exception to a single yearling for some choice words provided about their clutchmates.
“Admiral Lev-6 of the Saturn Fleet flagship Time and Again. Tow successful.” I glanced at the target tracking system. Everything was marked as either scuttled or human. Not a single Calfendil ship remained. And the blue glow was still there. There were no stars beyond the battle, just an eerie sapphire blue.
“Admiral Lev-7 of the Uranus Fleet flagship Heritage. Tow successful.” Looking at the battle report my ship was generating, I decided it wasn’t even worth letting it finish. The ship totals had broken the counter. And the blue glow wasn’t going away. The human fleets were all breaking apart and approaching other jump gates they had built in our system, bringing them online.
“Admiral Lev-8 of the Neptune Fleet flagship Storm at Sea. Tow successful.” I stared at what was left of the Calflendil fleet. The ships weren’t just disabled, they weren’t just destroyed. They had been utterly annihilated. And the humans were staging impossibly large fleets in front of their old jump network.
“Admiral Lev-9 of the Pluto Fleet flagship Regret and Sorrow. Tow successful.” I closed my eyes for a moment, and rested my head against the console in front of me. Decorum be damned. The humans had saved us. Even the Calflendil Empire couldn’t field this many ships, and if the blue was any indicator, they still had more coming in.
“Admiral Lev-10 of the Eris Constructor Fleet flagship Strife. Tow successful.” I looked back up and eyed the screen again. Constructor Fleet? That was different from the rest. And, praise the winds, the blue was finally fading.
“Admiral Lev-11 of the Ceres Constructor Fleet flagship Renewal. Tow successful.” As I watched, the viewscreen faded back to normal. I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to see stars before. Those simple little points of light, pinholes to the cosmos.
“This is Fleet Admiral Lev. The Pantheon has assembled.” I clicked my talons at that. Such a simple way of saying they had just jumped most of the mass of a star system - as a battle fleet.
“You know your orders. Mercury through Pluto are to burn the web and recapture our colonies - “ Burn the web, he said. The Calflendil were in for a nasty shock, I thought. Nothing like having ten years of territory acquisition undone in a few hours.
“Eris Constructor fleet is to split among the battle pantheon and perform repairs and maintenance.” One hell of a repair fleet, if you ask me. Billions of ships, maybe more. Absolutely ridiculous, really. What were they going to do, build another one of these fleets?
“Eris Constructor Fleet, you have permission to add to the Pantheon as necessary.” My talons started to itch. Insane, the lot of them. Absolutely insane. At least they’re our allies.
“Ceres Constructor Fleet is to stay in this system and reclaim the battlefield. We have friends to care for, after all.” Care for, he said! As though we were the yearlings new to the stage and humans had been here before us. Not that it matters, I suppose. In their little ten year vacation, they had managed to…well. Their fleets could defend an entire empire while waging a five front war, from what we’ve seen of our neighbors.
“Captain Iverns’tla, do you understand me?” The voice was odd, almost filtered. Ah, of course. It was entirely digital.
“Yes.” Oh yes, of course I understood. It’s not like I hadn’t just been forced to relive some of the most charged memories I possessed. Not like I hadn’t been briefed on what would happen if I made this choice. Warned, over and over.
“All diagnostics have been performed and cleared. Are you aware of what happened?” What happened was so absurd only a human could suggest it. Suicide by brainscan, in exchange for the opportunity to defend my home and people well beyond my lifetime.
“Yes.” Yes, indeed. Clearly, it had worked exactly as well as the humans had stated. I was the first of my kind. I was the first of my line. My entire crew had volunteered for the procedure after the humans told us how they fielded so many ships so quickly. So many more ships than there were humans, in fact.
“All right, captain. Welcome to the eternal navy. We look forward to your service.”
I always hate it when people are all “so do you go to school, or are
you working, or” and I either have to
make up some lie, or
eventually get
around to “I am not working because of depression/anxiety,” and
subsequently have to deal with whatever bullshit-riddled and completely
unsolicited opinions on mental illness this stranger feels obligated to
share with me.
So my therapist was like, “You don’t have to do either.
You can just say you haven’t worked in a while because you’re recovering
from an illness.”
I tried it when the home inspector was here today, and it fucking worked.
He was like, “oh, I’m sorry, are you doing better now,” and I’m like
yeah, and don’t worry, it’s not contagious, awkward laugh, and we moved
on.
MY THERAPIST. IS A GENIUS. Because it is an
illness, so it’s not a lie to say that, and it’s also none of his
business to know specifically what it is, and I clearly don’t want to
give more details, so we should move on from this topic. MYTHERAPIST IS A GODDAMN GENIUS.
Dude I needed this. I never know what to say when people ask if I work because I’m severely disabled and don’t work.
REBLOG TO SAVE A LIFE HOLY SHIT
To add, this works on job interviews too. I once had to answer the ‘so whats up with this gap of 8 months in your resume where you were unemployed?” and I just said I had suffered an illness and I needed time to recover.
It’s easy enough, not a lie, and puts them on edge enough that they usually don’t go digging.
So my kids are peacefully playing Pokemon in the library floor, and my mom starts reading some random magazine article aloud to them without even considering asking them if they give a fuck, and then I guess they didn’t both start staring at her all fascinated, because she stopped and demanded to know if they were paying attention. My daughter said she was. So then my mom starts quizzing her on the person in the article’s name, and the date, like damn woman if it wasn’t in front of you I doubt you’d remember. And bless, my daughter did actually regurgitate these useless facts! Stuff it, Nana!
But I tell you because not only does this bullshit exchange resemble most of my mother’s interactions with my kids, but this is how we treat kids as a culture. This is normal. They’re playing a game which requires specialized knowledge, math, reading, sportsmanship, strategy–a lot of thinking. And she still thinks it’s fine to demand that they drop everything and listen to her, because obviously whatever they choose to do doesn’t matter. And most people would see nothing wrong with this.
Kids are people. They deserve agency and respect.
I’m tired.
And yes, I know that plenty of you out there are still being treated like this on the daily, that this is still how we treat teens, sometimes even young adults, hell that plenty of people *never* learn to value their own opinions or take their own interests and creative pursuits seriously or take control of their lives because this is how they were raised. I know. I’m mad for you too, trust me.
