theliteraryluggage:

strawberryorange:

core-chara:

ojohierro:

omfgheatherrr:

@ojohierro you’ll enjoy this I think

Indeed, this is exactly the sort of content I like to see on my dash.

Oh, D&D divine treasure.

These are perfect

These are hilarious :D I love the Sorcerer one, perfect for Lessandero. 

BUT do I have a story about the Cleric

We just started a new campaign a while ago where our characters were forced into a team against their will. And the Cleric is of a religion that condemns all beings that aren’t human or maybe elvish as evil, godless creatures from hell who don’t deserve to live. That goes doubly, of course, for tieflings. Well, guess what I’m playing?

My tiefling rogue was very tempted to just stab him and get on with it, but there were Circumstances preventing us from killing each other. Just killing each other. No one said anything about being nice.

So, of course, the Cleric keeps insulting and cursing me, and the group’s Dragonborn as well, and telling us we deserve to die and what foul creatures we are etc, leading to him being regularly punched in the face.

Now but it wasn’t until our first fight - and keep in mind we were all still level 1 at this point, leaving us with all of 8-11 hit points - that we realized FUCKING BASTARD CLERIC IS OUR HEALER. So even if he was gonna heal us in the first place (which is doubtful, seeing as we don’t deserve to live), he sure as hell wouldn’t after we kept threatening him and punching him in the face.

Thankfully the elf was the only one getting seriously hurt, but we still had to force him practically at knife point to heal her. 

This is gonna be a fun campaign yet.

(Source: jobe00, via bronzedragon)

nicolegendary:

hell-born-rising-demon:

dolofang:

klartie:

when boys have sleepovers do they sleep in the same bed like girls do or do the rules of no homo include sharing beds

girls always share beds. and covers and clothes and food and personal space. sometimes even bathrooms

Girls share everything.

#girls dont believe in no homo #all da homo #dont give a fuck.

Actual conversation between me and my roommate, after we’d packed up literally our entire dorm room.

Adler: Wait, we didn’t think this through.  My mattress is covered with boxes and I need to sleep there.

Me: *pulls out single sheet and pillow*

Me: It’s okay, I thought of this, you can just crash with me.

Adler: Oh, thanks, bro!  Sounds like a plan!

Crickets: *chirping*

Me: …this is why everyone thinks we’re fucking, isn’t it.

Adler: Moran, my dear, I’ve read this fanfic a hundred times.  This is EXACTLY why everyone thinks we’re fucking.

(Source: minajs, via clockwork-mockingbird)

vassraptor:

jacquez45:

annlarimer:

kowabungadoodles:

em-kellesvig:

gutterowl:

roachpatrol:

gutterowl:

roachpatrol:

gutterowl:

roachpatrol:

manyblinkinglights:

glimmerbulb:

manyblinkinglights:

curlicuecal:

roachpatrol:

manyblinkinglights:

id wreak mayhem for a really good scifi where sight was considered as exotic and numinous as telepathy by the protag species


#everybody else uses sonar or long whiskers and that thing with the sensing electrical impulses
#meanwhile: humans can ‘see’ which is a thing which is like and yet unlike ordinary perception#it would also only ever come into play in the same frivolous ‘VULCAN STRENGTH’ sort of way as Spock’s extra attributes#for maximum effect vision would be faithfully written as 100% an asspull in the best way


what the fuck dude this is awesome i want this too now

Okay, but what about those deep sea fish that produce light at a wavelength that *only they can see.* Predators that can somehow sense you in a completely undectable and unfathomable manner to you; they might as well be psychic.

YES, EXACTLY–vision is SUCH an asspull?? Sometimes it’s “"dark”“ and we can’t see anything. And also we’re impaired for plot reasons! Sometimes ALIEN WEAPONRY or otherwise-innocuous ship components are ”“too bright”“ and we yell and try to hide, subject to some sort of obscure, tortuous imperative. The rest of the time we can UNERRINGLY tell when anyone is trying to play pranks on us, the names and emotional/physical status of EVERY SINGLE BEING IN THE ROOM (or, when outside civilized warrens, ”“line of sight”“)–and yes, of course, can’t forget about our nigh-mythical fighting arts revolving around insane dodging skills.

And SNIPING. And also, god, fuck–don’t forget about completely arbitrary “”””atmospheric disturbances””” (fog, smoke–the new “ionic interference”) ALSO plottasatically rendering our abilities moot.

Plus, some people have more powerful Vision than others, but some people have a very short effective range of Vision. However, humans have come up with devices that “change the angles of refraction” of the “light” so that the naturally impaired have their skills enhanced–but they can always be knocked off their faces or be broken.

Also some people are terrible at normal Vision work, but have excellent night vision and are skilled at working under adverse conditions.

Oooh, and human art is almost entirely Vision based. Think about non-seeing aliens trying to access the majority of human art!

IM!!! SCREAMING!!! GLASSES. Glasses are SUCH another great Weird Alien Gimmick. God–you get all used to your Human friend and their bizarre abilities, you just start to really trust in and rely on them in tight places and problem-solving a little bit, then you get fucken marooned on a fucken planetoid somewhere and they just in this very small little voice, after you have pulled them from the wreckage and sat down to go over your options, inform you that they’ve lost their glasses.

Oh my god and an episode where we’re up against Evil Humans and our heros turn to their humans like ‘you can see them, right, you can tell when they’re near? you can counter them?’ and our hero is genuinely shaken and worried— they’ve got high-tech military mechanical enhancers, the devices strapped to their heads let them see anywhere, they can operate in near-absolute ‘darkness’, they can operate in near-lethal ‘brightness’, they can see through walls— not doors, not glass, but walls

Then we have a heroic scene where the crew’s human is the scrappy, desperate underdog for once instead of the cool and collected superbeing. It is super cool. The human and the captain probably mack wildly on one another in medbay after this. Roll credits. 

Person 1:  I dunno, dude.  This ‘light’ stuff sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.  I mean, how do we know it’s even real?

Person 2:  Seriously, how can something be a wave and a particle?  That doesn’t even make sense.

Mysterious Human: Even if you cannot perceive the light, you can feel its warmth–

Person 1: Oh my god, please shut it with the mystical hoo-hah.  You’re insufferable.

Mysterious, somewhat exasperated Human: the ‘light’ enters the sensitive paired apertures in our faces, passing through biological lenses and chambers to stimulate specific nerves we call ‘rods’ and ‘cones’. one set of nerves tells us the volume of light we’re perceiving, while the other estimates the wavelength frequency. the total input creates in our mind a continuous sonarscape of immense complexity, where we can perceive ‘textures’ that are impossible to understand with mere sound or touch. this is why my people’s communication devices are small, flat, silent boards: we ‘read’ the patterns of light they emit as language and ‘watch’ the patterns of light they emit as sonarscapes.

Captain: okay…. sounds fake, but okay…

And they just keep on making up new bullshit rules for how light works, like

Navigator: Warp drive engaged.  We are approaching 90% of the Lorentz limit.

Human:  What now?

Navigator:  Oh, uh, it’s really complex, but lemme try.  So, matter can only move so fast through space, right?  Like absolutely, nothing can ever ever possibly go faster than like about 3 hundred million meters per second–

Human: Ah yes.  The speed of light.

Navigator:  …oh for fuck’s sake.

Captain: My god! Time! Has… frozen! 

Human: Fuuuuuuuuck. 

Captain: What?

Human: Remember how light is a wave and a particle?

Captain: Yes, we mention this every episode. 

Human: Yeah, light’s frozen along with everything else. I can’t see shit. 

Captain: My god! Our sonar doesn’t work either! The soundwaves— they can’t propagate through this frozen air! We’ll have to use just our whiskers!

Human: Fuuuuuuuuck. 

The fanfiction for this show has to be amazing.

“Shh. Don’t try to hide your needs, Captain,” Hue Mann soothed.  “My sight has told me all about your traumatic memories of the war.”

“What?” Captain gasped.  “But…how…?”

“The light knows all,” explained Hue.  “Time slows down at the speed of light.  It sees all of the past..and all of the future.”

“And what is it telling you now?” questioned the Captain.

Hue leaned in close. “It tells me, ‘Mate with them now, you lovestruck fool!”

“Damn you, Hue Mann.  Damn you and your penetrating ‘eyes.’”

“Oh,” breathed Hue, voice husky and sexual.  “That’s not all my eyes can…penetrate.” 

goddamn, you people amaze me.

I love the idea that the protag species has telepathy as ‘boring normal standard’ senses and they can’t understand why human thoughts seems so strange, fragmented, occasionally blank… until they realise that a great of human thought is ‘visual’ and so can’t be heard… 

“Lori, what do your Human eyes see?”

“Coupla billboards, and it looks like it might rain.”

This keeps getting better

This is so cute. Your human crewmember is getting a crush on another human. Time to observe the humans’ weird yet endearing courtship rituals.

“Tell me all about them! What do you like about them?”

“Well, they have these amazing eyes…”

“Yeah? Better at the the wavemapping thing than yours?”

“…I don’t know how good their eyes are at seeing. They’re just this beautiful shade of brown.”

“Wait. You wavemap each other’s wavemapping organs? And have opinions about what nice frequencies they refract the waves at?”

“Yes? What’s so strange about this?”

“I thought your ‘vision’ was passive. Do you listen to each other’s ears too? And like the smell of each other’s noses?”

“Like you’ve never touched someone’s whiskers with your whiskers.”

“…That’s different.”

(via windbladess)

iztarshi:

ts-porter:

iztarshi:

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)

chaoticlivi:

listen, trying to describe Soul Eater to anyone who isn’t very familiar with certain types of tropes and storylines - especially ones commonly found in anime and manga - is a fucking trip.

“he turns into a scythe, but he can also play the piano during battle. like, FROM the scythe. sometimes the scythe turns into a piano. but it’s all him. also, his partner has wings on her soul and they can make the wings come out of the scythe.”

“so there’s a dangerous magic book that the characters go inside and experience the seven deadly sins. no, it’s not dante’s inferno, but it is a reference”

“the sexy lady is their cat/their cat is a sexy lady”

“the grim reaper is a school headmaster in nevada”

All right, story time.

All you need to know is that, A, it’s the first week of freshman year of college–you know, orientation week where no one has anything to do because they’re too worried about the freshman class wandering off and getting eaten by bears or whatever–and B, there are about a dozen people (all in various stages of heat-induced exhaustion on our un-air-conditioned campus) draped over couches and chairs in the informal lounge in the student union.  

The dude with the computer wired up to the TV says, “Here, I’ll show you guys the first episode of an anime.”

My ass, having never seen an anime before in literally my entire life, sits there and goes “sure” along with every other semi-functional person in the room.

The first episode of Soul Eater happens on the screen.  Over the course of the twenty-two minutes, about half the people in the room have wandered off because they lost the plot, and those of us who are left are all sitting there slightly slack-jawed and baffled.  It ends, the dude pauses it and goes “Okay, do you all want to watch another.”

There are a couple beats of dead.  Freaking.  Silence.

Finally I sit up from where I’d been watching it and go “What the fuck did I just witness.”

The dude smirks and goes “Soul Eater.  Do you want to watch another episode?”

Fast forward to the end of the week (about five days) and everyone who made it through the first episode has seen two complete seasons of Soul Eater.

It’s now been three years and I’m pretty well versed in the anime thing at this point.  I honestly don’t think I’ve been really STUNNED by an anime since Soul Eater.

Do I necessarily recommend starting with SE?  No, no I do not, it’s like saying “Yeah man, gateway drugs are for the weak, hit me up with some of that hallucinogenic mushroom and come back for me next month.”

On the other hand, it’ll make everything else seem downright freaking NORMAL in comparison.

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

lizawithazed:

get-yr-social-work-rage-on:

my bf has many interesting stories and observations from his new job as a 911 operator

my favorite is how meandering people are, even in the midst of a terrible emergency

they respond to “what is the emergency” with “well, the thing is, four weeks ago–”

and then he’s like “WHAT IS THE EMERGENCY RIGHT NOW”

and they’re like “so what happened this morning was, i said to my wife, i said–”

“WHAT IS CURRENTLY HAPPENING AT THIS MOMENT”

“oh i’m having a heart attack”


my second favorite is how specific he has to get sometimes

like, “what is your emergency?”

“i’m sitting in a pool of blood.”

“… is it… your blood?”

“yes i think so”

“do you know where it’s coming from?”

“probably the stab wound”

“have you been stabbed?”

“oh yah definitely”

In all fairness shock is a hell of a drug

I mean, yes, but honestly the rambles of a person in an emergency are pretty funny (after everyone’s okay, for the record, it’s only funny after everyone is ALL RIGHT at the end of it).

(Source: sw-or-gtfo, via clockwork-mockingbird)

auggusst:

keelime-pies:

joker-ace:

WELP here’s the project I did for school that I wanna work into a more personal project throughout this summer and in the future as well. I haven’t done a comic in a long time, so there was a lot of experimenting here and I’m gonna apologize ahead for my shaky storytelling cuz writing is not my forte, although I do plan on fixing this up in the future. It’s a sort of prequel to what I wanna do for my zodiac kids, so it was just a lot of messing around with them. Nothing is historically accurate; its psuedo history and fanstasy so hahaHA 

@lalas-laboratory

HELL YEAH FUCK YEAH!!!!! LEOS FOR LIFE!!

(via thepainofthesass)

idiopathicsmile:

idiopathicsmile:

“So you see,” said the Royal Advisor, wringing his hands, “the curse states the princess will die on the night before her twenty-fifth birthday–”

“Hang on,” said the princess, “‘ON the night before’–”

The Advisor nodded grimly.

“So what you’re saying is that, until that one specific date, I am effectively immortal?”

“Technically yes, but then–” the King stammered.

“Wow,” said the princess, who was sixteen and did not possess amazing impulse control. “I’m gonna go teach myself how to juggle chainsaws while hang gliding over shark-infested waters, catch you chuckleheads later.”

Here’s the thing about curses that most people don’t realize: curses are selfish.

Not the motives behind them—not necessarily, at any rate—but the curses themselves, the nuts and bolts of the magic, so to speak. If someone wraps an enchantment around you, and that enchantment’s sole purpose is to doom you on a particular day and time—the stroke of midnight is pretty popular, for whatever reason—well.

Something that complex and powerful operates according to its own rules. It wants vengeance, and that means doing whatever must be done to ensure that no rival foe shows up at the eleventh hour to steal its thunder. Princess Hammerhands the Sharkpuncher, as she would later come to be known, was an extremely rash and somewhat foolish person, but the “immortality until you die” loophole is real.

Knowing your body will defy death takes some of the thrill out of death-defying stunts, as it turns out. Some, not all. Princess Hammerhands the Sharkpuncher had some good years on the daredevil circuit. She picked up several neat tricks—a good performance wasn’t just about survival, but artistry, she figured. She befriended sword swallowers and fire breathers and professional dragon ticklers. But after three years, she was feeling antsy again.

Keep reading

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

regional differences

copperbadge:

hyvetyrant:

idiopathicsmile:

pfdiva:

vulgarweed:

adramofpoison:

idiopathicsmile:

“oh hey,” she said, “it’s a really touristy area, but since you’re gonna be passing through anyway, you might as well stop by pier 29, see the dragons. also, there’s a—”

“hold on,” i said. “i knew your city had mountains, but. dragons? uh, actual living dragons?”

“dude, it’s not a big deal. they’re there all the time. of course they’re majestic and everything, but they’re loud and cranky and mostly they lie around eating garbage. now and then the city council will talk about trying to make them roost somewhere else, but—”

“dragons,” i repeated. i knew it was making me sound like a rube, but it was a lot to take in. “you live in a city that has dragons.”

“no, it’s cool, we used to go see them when i was a little kid. it’s worth doing. but that whole area is mostly dragon-themed gift shops, and the commercialization is kind of a bummer. also, sometimes a dragon will melt somebody’s car and it’s a whole problem.”

“fairytale-style, giant scaly fire-breathing dragons.”

“honestly, i forget other cities don’t have them?” she said. “there’s a few other sites on the west coast where they gather. portland calls them wyverns, but that’s a portland thing.”

“chicago’s got, like, bunnies and songbirds,” i told her, “but otherwise it’s just your typical vermin. pigeons, rats, sphinxes—”

“sphinxes? what the hell.

“oh, yeah, they nest in the el tunnels. sometimes a fucking sphinx will flap down out of nowhere, bring the whole train to a halt until the front car answers a riddle.”

“that sounds exciting,” she said.

“it’s the worst. your train winds up being twenty minutes late, and you just have to hang out hoping somebody up there read their mythology. there’s supposed to be a program where the conductors get trained in riddling, but i don’t know. rahm emmanuel keeps saying it’s not a budget priority.”

“huh,” she said. “guess the grass is always greener and all that. but on some level, it’s nice to remember that even with all these big box stores, the country still has some variety left in it.”

“yeah, did you know that in rhode island they call water fountains ‘bubblers’?” i said.

“whoa, seriously?”

“i read it somewhere. crazy, right?”

“crazy.”

i am here for urbanized mythological creatures

Switzerland has a lot of dragons, but dragons have long since moved on from collecting gold. There’s a purply-scaley one that roosts behind the Mad Mex that refuses to stop hoarding signposts. The city uses banners for the main roads and sells a lot of maps.

Golems love cities–with their stone buildings and sidewalks. There are strict laws about what one is allowed to say to them, because golems tend to be rather literal and very obedient. There’s always one kid who thinks he knows better. He doesn’t. 

OH MY GOD THE CHICAGO SPHINXES, DON’T GET ME STARTED. Here’s the thing. When you buy your Ventra card at the machine - which is another one of Rahm’s scams, leasing that out to a private company, wtf was he thinking - it’s supposed to have the answer to the riddle on it, right? The sphinx is supposed to scan the bar code and let the train through.

that never fucking happens. Especially on the Blue Line which is down for maintenance all the time and constantly switching tracks and running shuttles, which means half the time you’ve got a sphinx that came over from the fucking Orange Line or some shit and is full of riddles that only the Irish mooks from Bridgeport understand. Or it’s in Polish only. Or it’s got a glitch that makes it stutter and if you interrupt it, it’ll get snippy and bite your head off. LITERALLY. They hush it up but it happens. Businesses lose millions from sphinx-related tardiness every year.

And then there’s a case back in ‘96 when it was proven after the fact that the “wrong” answer the Red Line Sphinx got was actually A PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE REGIONAL VARIATION but by then, the Sphinx had already eaten half a car full of drunken Cubs fans. I know, not much of value was lost there, BUT STILL.

You think SPHINXES are bad?  Detroit has imps, thousands of them, and you know what they love?  Buses.  You know the major form of public transit in Detroit is?  BUSES.  So the drivers have to literally shoo away imps at every fucking stop, making them 30 minutes late, an HOUR late, and it’s not like there’s anything you can DO, because they’re all leftover from when the car companies were big, and ALL OF THOSE FUCKERS CLOSED.

So of course there were hundreds of orphaned imps, and they kept SAYING they were going to reopen the factories, or at least get some good junkyards, but nooooooooo, they never did, so the imps just bred and bred, and now they’re all over every bus and it’s not like you can ever count on getting anywhere on time and long story short, I’d take a sphinx over imps ANY day.

yeah as someone who did high school and college in michigan and now lives in chicago, i have to say that as far as the age-old sphinxes vs imps debate goes, they’re both terrible in different ways. the imps are way more common and they probably have a wider total reach, and oh my god nothing like trying to board a bus already covered in those little suckers when said bus is already forty minutes late—

(sidenote: ugh people from bloomfield hills saying stuff like “well if i lived in detroit, i’d have the sense to carry around a nice heavy club or walking stick—” yeah dude good luck with your walking stick against two dozen imps)

but the sphinxes. let’s not, uh, sugar coat this: the sphinxes don’t just slow commuters, they kill people. and yes, if you know the riddle, you’re fine. but what if someone else offers their answer first? what if you get some overly cocky freshman philosophy major who takes it upon himself to answer for the whole car?

i think in the back of our minds, all chicagoans know that rahm emmanuel’s administration isn’t gonna lift a finger until one of the sphinxes goes after a wealthy tourist and it makes national news. and even then, we’ll get, like, flashy riddle-solving software installed in all the red line trains, and maybe the brown line, but no way is it gonna cover the whole infrastructure.

basically if you ever need to take the green line or the pink line, you wanna start studying your classical mythology and folklore fucking yesterday.

@copperbadge do puns work on Sphinxes as well as riddles?

You bet your sphinxter they do. 

(Sphinxes hate that one but they’re obliged to honor it.)

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

Put this on my headstone

So I wrote a short story that I’ve been posting on here bit by bit (I WILL POST THE NEXT SECTION, I SWEAR TO GOD) and I happened to have written it for a class and I brought it in to be critiqued and I just.  I can die happy, because I straight-up witnessed a room full of Very Serious Critical Authors (yes I am a little derisive of my Very Pompous College Peers) get into a violent ship war.  It escalated to shouting, the teacher looked horrified, and at least two people had brought in copies of the story annotated to support their ship–and these two came in armed and loaded for bear.  Or heteronormativity, but same difference.

And so after class I came back to my dorm room and burst through the door and announced to my roommate: 

“I have thrown the golden apple of ambiguous lesbianism among the masses and war has broken out.”

And honestly I’ve never been so proud of a sentence that ever came out of my mouth.