Whenever a southerner says it’s cold a random northerner pops up ❄❄
“You fool!”
Gets me every time.
Where is the lie?
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
people who complain about dinosaurs “not being scary anymore” because its been discovered they have feathers and are closely related to/ancestors of birds are so bizarre like
- its not about how scary they are, they are/were real life animals and what matters is learning more about them, not how well they fit into your science fiction horror film lol
- can you imagine a 13 foot chicken running at you with full intent to eat you??? thats fucking terrifying holy shit
peacocks are synonymous with vain, frivolous beauty and they will attack cars. they will attack you while you try to get to your car. they’re like six feet of useless feathers and they will destroy you. imagine if they were carnivorous and had functional spurs.
a t-rex could look like a gay disco ball and i guarantee that you would fucking book it if it had a problem with you
listen
listen
have you ever met a swan
if anything the birdier they get the scarier they are
Also, I personally am quite fond of the mental image of a Majestic As Fuck pack of feathered raptors that are also capable of brutal evisceration.
I mean, what part of that doesn’t sound deeply, viscerally alarming?
(Source: angelrecipe, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
Inspired by various tumblr posts.
Humans quickly get a reputation among the interplanetry alliance and the reputation is this: when going somewhere dangerous, take a human.
Humans are tough. Humans can last days without food. Humans heal so fast they pierce holes in themselves or inject ink for fun. Humans will walk for days on broken bones in order to make it to safety. Humans will literally cut off bits of themselves if trapped by a disaster.
You would be amazed what humans will do to survive. Or to ensure the survival of others they feel responsible for.
That’s the other thing. Humans pack-bond, and they spill their pack-bonding instincts everywhere. Sure it’s weird when they talk sympathetically to broken spaceships or try to pet every lifeform that scans as non-toxic. It’s even a little weird that just existing in the same place as them for long enough seems to make them care about you. But if you’re hurt, if you’re trapped, if you need someone to fetch help?
You really want a human.
“Looks like someone for you.”
Jon kicked Ginna’s boots, which were currently resting on the table, and she glanced over toward the door. A clump of knee-high aliens, plump and round and covered in golden fur, were lifting their little pink noses into the air - scenting the air in the bar.
Sashrans. Perfect.
Ginna quickly downed the last of her drink and dropped her feet to the floor. The Gentleman of Fortune was full to the gills of professional companions looking for work, she wouldn’t be the only one in here with a fondness for sashrans. She needed to work quickly if she wanted a chance at whatever job these ones were hiring for. The sound and vibration of her boots caught the attention of the group, and Ginna followed it quickly with a greeting in the quiet shushing sounds of their own language.
A universal translator would take care of most of the talking, but by knowing a little of their language Ginna proved she had worked with their kind before and cared enough to learn it. Caring was probably the most important skill a companion could cultivate.
It paid off. The group of sashrans centered quickly on her and darted over, still in their clump.
“I am human Ginna, companion for hire,” Ginna introduced, tapping the side of her visor to activate the display.
“Sala and Rini, with crew. Spice collectors,” the largest of the sashrans introduced, tapping at their own earbud. Their information began to stream onto Ginna’s display, while her own would be playing in their ear. She was proficient in everything from weapons to mechanics to medicine, xenobiology to politics, and of course survival in any kind of situation from atmosphere decompression in space to a tsunami on a planet. The more varied the knowledge they had the better a companion a human could make, and Ginna prided herself on being one of the best.
As for the sashrans, they’d found a jungle planet with a plant that was delicious to their senses. Cultivation efforts had failed thus far, so the price was high enough to support the risk of hunting for it on its home range. A six-month tour was on offer. It seemed they’d contracted with another professional companion a few times, a man named Drix, and Ginna quickly switched over to the guild’s internal records to see what he had to say of these sashrans and the planet they were harvesting from.
The sashrans themselves would be able to check what Ginna’s former employers had to say about her too.
Drix had enjoyed working with Sala and Rini’s crew, it dripped out of every line of his reports. He’d included good detail about life aboard their ship and the risks of the planet, that Ginna would have to look into closer later to be prepared.
All she needed to know at the moment was that they paid well, the risks were not unacceptably high, and that they treated their human companions well. It sounded like a job for her.
“Sala and Rini and crew, I would take this job,” Ginna told them.
The sashrans shushed and buzzed together, their tones sounding happy to Ginna’s relatively untrained ear, and she hoped she was reading them right. They were such beautiful little creatures, and she’d always enjoyed working for their kind before. They were close enough she could have reached out to touch them, pet their soft velvet fur, but she resisted. Touching them uninvited would be rude.
Finally they turned back to her. “Sala and Rini and crew will, with joy, contract to hire companion Ginna,” the lead one answered.
Contract negotiations went quickly enough, using the standard guild template and modifying it here or there as both parties preferred and agreed upon. Sashrans were easy to haggle with, not like the argumentative akskar. Soon enough Ginna had a contract and three days to prepare her effects for travel.
“It has been a pleasure,” Ginna told the sashrans. “I look forward to being your companion.”
She would have expected them to leave, then, go get their own things ready for launch. Instead the smallest one pushed forward - all wrapped in pale gold velvet fur and their sweet little pink forepaws resting on Ginna’s knee.
“Companion Ginna will now engage in petting for promotion of pack bonding?” they asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Ginna reached out toward the sashran, let them smell her palm, but it seemed this sashran wasn’t shy at all. They immediately pushed their head into her hand. There was nothing in the galaxy so soft as a sashran’s fur. Ginna dug her fingers in around the ruff of the sashran’s neck, gently scratching, and then smoothed the fur all the way down their back.
The sashran made a dreamy-soft pleasure sound, and Ginna mimicked it back. “Oh you sweetheart,” she murmured. Already she could feel that little melting tug in her heart, that protective urge that set some humans on the path to professional companionship.
Come hell or high water, Ginna was going to keep these sashrans safe.
Aw, yes. Look at the adorable scifi! I’m proud to have inspired it.
(via primarybufferpanel)
Basically I think most people’s lives would be enriched by watching Leverage.
(via clockwork-mockingbird)
i bet every time steve annoys one of the other avengers they just go and tell bucky about something reckless steve has done
steve steals natasha’s bagels one morning so she looks straight into his eyes and says ‘JARVIS tell james that one time steve jumped off a plane without a patachute’ and from the other end of the tower bucky shouts ‘STEVEN GRANT ROGERS’
he accidentally breaks tony’s favourite screwdriver and he is very sorry but it’s too late because bucky practically kicks the door of the shop down screaming ‘diD YOU NOT EVEN TRY TO LAND THAT PLANE I AM TOO YOUNG TO DIE FROM STRESS’
clint does it whenever he’s bored like one day they are just hanging out and he goes “hey so did you know steve jumped from an elevator that was at least 200 feet in the air that one time” ‘hey i was trying to escape hydr–’ “he landed on concrete” “EXCUSE ME ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU ABSOLUTE MORON” ‘i landed on my shield it absorbs the shock’ “DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR SHIELD?????”
(Source: guardiansofthegalaxi, via clockwork-mockingbird)
Anonymous asked: What do you like to do in your spare time? What do you really want to do for a job?
Hey, Anon, what’s up, welcome to the inbox, way to help me kill some time, love you.
All right, give me a minute to remember what spare time is like. In all seriousness, though, I read fiction (sci-fi/fantasy because reality is dull and realistic fiction is likewise pretty dull), I write fantasy novels/fanfiction (recently), I watch Netflix and movies and read my old 60′s X-Men comics (look, the costumes are terrible and the plots are ridiculous and I’ll fight you in a back alley for the X-Men, okay?)….and I harass my roommate over whatever is available to me. And of late I listen to Hamilton and suffer over historical characters.
And as for a job, well, there are a few answers to that. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t need to sleep, and I could pull off a miracle and become a bestselling author and still work as an ER doctor and also get a full night’s rest and have free time. (This is related to my slightly weird fantasy of ‘in the event that I had millions of dollars, I would buy a couple floors of an apartment building and take in a bunch of LGBTQ+ kids who’d been kicked out of their homes and make sure they were fed and got to go to school and everything with the one requirement that they go to therapy, because a little therapy is good for everyone,’ which is heavily dependent on my having a lot of money in addition to free time. Also, please do not be led astray by this fantasy, I neither like small children nor am a nice person.) Since this is not a perfect world and I have dubious luck at best, my slightly more achievable aspiration is to work as an ER doctor at a Trauma One hospital and write not-bestselling novels on the side. This will probably be accompanied by a high degree of caffeine consumption and some sleep deprivation. What can you do. Medicine makes me happy, writing keeps me sane, it seems like a good plan to me.
Anonymous asked: Okay so: Rey, as the result of a midi-chlorian pregnancy. I have no idea what this means but it lines up with some parallels to Anakin: good with building things, extremely strong with the force, etc
The Force: Okay, Luke, so I know my LAST Chosen One didn’t really work out for the galaxy and also you in particular and in fact is STILL kind of not working out for the galaxy and ESPECIALLY you in particular, but listen, hear me out here: a female pilot who’s good with droids with a big fucking stick just fucking WRECKING everybody. Everybody, all the time. Just fucking beating the SHIT out of them.
Luke Skywalker: I LOVE IT.
The Force: Good because I already made her, she’ll be here in like three days for Jedi training, TREAT MY BABY/YOUR NEW AUNTIE GOOD. BYYYYYE LUKE YOU’RE THE BEST.
Okay, but let’s just take a moment to relish the mental image of Kylo Ren’s face if he ever found out that, fuck being Darth Vader’s grandson, Rey is Anakin Skywalker’s Force-begotten sister.
tumblr is such a bizarre kind of social interaction. like. the rules are so different here. I once unfollowed someone because they said prime numbers were ugly and that was simply the last straw for me. imagine hanging out with a friend and getting up from the table and never talking to them again because they told you they hated prime numbers. that’s what I did.
(Source: josighah, via academicfeminist)
i wonder if magic is real, but only in a really mundane way.
when i was little i could almost inerringly switch back to disney channel right as the ads ended when i was channel surfing.
maybe youve never accidentally crushed a ladybug underfoot. maybe your microwave popcorn never burns. maybe you can spin around lots and lots of times before you get dizzy.
is that magic??
honestly im not sure if these are magic or just small, invisible skills. im not sure which i like better.
My ankles never twist. I’ve always been rather active, I did track for five years (all the running events), and one time while running I stepped in a hole, lost my shoe, and landed sprawling about five feet away. I pulled my shoe on and kept running.
I have a coworker who somehow makes better coffee than everyone else even though the grounds come pre-measured and all you have to do is load them up and push a button. I have a friend who has inch long nails that never break. My brother can copy origami just by looking at the finished product and my mother can do the same with knots. I knew a guy who never made an error when typing.
Maybe we all have little magics, the kind that you don’t realize you have. Just tiny things that make your life slightly better but are completely unnoticed on the outside.
this is the cutest post i have ever read…
Nooo I’ve actually shared this theory before. Like my Dad is really lucky finding parking spaces. And I’ve never cracked my phone even though I drop it on the time and have an average case. Like what if everybody gets one trivial part of their life that they’re illogically lucky at?
this post makes me feel better about myself
Left turn magic here. I’ve pulled up to 4 lane roads with medians and had no traffic at 5 pm, just to turn left.
(Source: dolichomorph, via academicfeminist)
