I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”
And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
“That’s called a moose.”
Wolverines.
Also.. dolphins.
The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.
You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai’kor. Commander Vura’ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…
When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.
And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.
Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.
“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“
Every night.
It came for someone almost every night.
Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight. They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved. Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again.
What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror. Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather. It had fangs as long as his grasping digits. Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity. And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.
Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it.
The earth natives called the monster a leopard.
It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge. Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster.
But rumor was that there was worse on this planet. Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.
A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity. While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out. This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.
“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped. “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts. And these are domesticated. Harmless.”
The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent. “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.” Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.
More not-quite-looking. 455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner. “That one,” she decided. “Alone in the separate pasture. Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker. Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season. And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium. This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”
I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…
It was a strange creature Tar’van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.
“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar’van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.
The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar’van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.
Another moment Tar’van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’
“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”
Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar’van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.
The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.
“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar’van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.
“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar’van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”
The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.
“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.
“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.
Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar’van is the squads leader now.
“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”
Tar’van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar’van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.
“Please,” Tar’van bags. “Get us back safely.”
@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus? Why was it necessary?
oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.
(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)
They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.
Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.
The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar’van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar’van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”
“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”
“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”
“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”
The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.
In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.
But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.
Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”
“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?”
The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)
“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling.
It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.
“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.”
– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898
I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.
I think at that point they’d just give up.
Or fire ants
No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…
This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.
“Let us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionship”
“Is that a miniature tiger?”
“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”
The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them.
“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”
The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”
“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”
“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”
“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”
The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.
Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.
rebloging because Hamsters are the most demonic critter on the planet for real. also, hummingbirds. Humming birds will attack /owls/
I’m not much of a science fiction fan but, this is beautiful.
Please give me more I’m begging you all.
Anyone gonna talk about Rabbits yet? I have one and honestly, it looks cute and all, but those little demons will bite and claw you and you won’t see it coming
I’ve seen this several times now and I have to add to it because I love it so much enjoy:
They’d all been assured that this terran island was non-dangerous. They had few large predators, the climate was temperate and mild, and was comparatively small compared to many of the “countries” they’d been to so far. Kowixx had trouble believing this however. So far, it had been proven time and again that to assume safety on Earth was a death sentence. Xer squad leader believed that this place was safe however, and that meant they had to follow. The leader had been fighting on Earth for two months now; for soldiers sent to this hell planet, two months practically made you a veteran.
Soon, however, Kowixx was proven right. They landed on the beaches first, after an hour of travelling over cold ocean; the only way that they could approach as their airborne ships couldn’t survive the colder temperatures in the Northern hemisphere, and it was supposedly “winter” this time of year. Kowixx could only dream of being back on their moderate, non-extreme planet, thousands of jur’wens away. From the second they started marching up the sand, which easily caved beneath their feet, tall, spindly human structures were rising out of the sea mist. A shudder going down xer spine, Kowixx was sure they were being watched. Even more so when a dull grey shape glided down from the sky and landed in front of the squad leader. Xe ordered a halt and the men stopped. It seemed non-dangerous at first. Grey and brown, a rather dull looking creature with ridiculous webbed feet and a dark beak. It moved closer to the squad leader, as if inspecting. The squad leader wasn’t going to take any chances. Xe pulled xer weapon from xer side and fired. The creature screeched, its noise ear-piercing, its wings flaring up at the sand beneath it melted.
Immediately, its cries were repeated a hundred fold from above, and more of the hideous things began diving out of the sky. Keeping their heads down, they all tried to run, Kowixx muttering a prayer for xer life. Vicious sharp beaks bit and tore at the soldiers skin, the large grey beasts dropped more and more out of the sky, almost invisible in the mist if not for their demonic screeching. Some of them even crashed straight into the soldiers, with their full body weight, thorn like claws ripping at armour and hideous squawking hurting their ears. One poor soldier collapsed in the sand and was immediately set upon by four of the great things, screaming with bloodlust.
Eventually they made it to safety, sheltering in a human building. They captured a lone human later, and asked it about these creatures. This island was supposed to be safe?! What were these new monsters? The human didn’t quite get it at first, and then realised. “Ah, a seagull. They probably thought you had food. When you shot at them you pissed them off.” The squad leader frowned “so, we should’ve fed it?!” The human laughed, an awful sound after that experience. “No, if you’d have fed it they would never have left you alone. You can’t win against seagulls. You just have to run and hope they don’t catch up to you first”. The squad leader demanded to know if there would be any more of these beasts. The human looked away from xer, and focused on Kowixx. Kowixx felt xer heart double take as it said coldly “seagulls are everywhere here.”
If there was one thing
that Baerhwan had learned about this hellhole of a planet, it’s that
now matter how dangerous the thing directly in front of you looked,
there was always something even worse somewhere else – and if you
were really unlucky, “somewhere else” was five yards away and
getting closer all the time. He still had nightmares about the killer
bee incident. According to one of their human guides, honey bees were
considered to be a symbol of cosy, rural domesticity; it was only
later that Baerhwan had discovered that they killed more humans each
year than any animal other than humans themselves.
It was for this reason
that Baerhwan glanced at his superior with concern about xir mental
well-being.
He could understand the
admiral’s decisions. Naktok had seen almost a third of xir invasion
force decimated by the local wildlife – more than in the entire war
with the Lumati – and half of the survivors would be in psychiatric
restructuring for the next several years. So the decision made five
weeks ago to activate the Limsaq Protocol – something only done
once before in the entire history of the Imperium – made a kind of
vague sense. Nevertheless, Baerhwan had an uneasy feeling that the
plan wouldn’t go smoothly.
The Limsaq Protocol was
simplicity itself: a team would be sent back into the planet’s past,
and would alter the biosphere to make it more amenable to the various
species of the Imperium. It was rarely even considered, since the
consequences were hard to predict. The only other planet this had
been done to was Limsaq, which had originally been home to a
particularly vicious, expansionist and xenophobic species, the Schloq, who had been threatening several Imperium colonies and two
sourceworlds. A team had been sent back, and the Schloq (along with a few parasite species dependent upon them) had
been wiped out, reversing the extinction of several hundred of Limsaq’s other species
and ending the threat for good. It was a comparatively minor change
to the planet’s biosphere, and had resulted in a wholly new,
unpopulated and easily colonisable world.
Naktok’s plan went
rather further. Xe hoped to wiped out this planet’s native life
entirely, and replace it with species from other worlds – create a
whole new biosphere from scratch. Unfortunately the process would
take several tens of millions of years to work. Even with the use of
temporal hop-pods, the logistical undertaking was immense.
Naktok believed xirself
to be infallible and indestructible – a common flaw in xir species – and strode boldly and purposefully out of the hop-pod, ready to begin the process of destroying the local wildlife.
But when, just a few seconds after exiting the temporal hop-pod,
Naktok was bitten in two by a set of jaws that looked disturbingly
like those of a crocodile, only much, much larger, Baerhwan was not
as surprised as he might have been at an earlier time in his life.
This was Earth, after all. Of course it had fifteen foot tall, forty
foot long carnivorous reptiles with teeth longer than a human hand.
What else could there possibly have been, a hundred million years in the
past?
Alright listen up guys because I am really pissed off right now and I have something that needs to be said.
Everyone’s always talking about how fucking horrible it is to have art stolen and reposted and that if you repost art you are a shitty person and the scum of the earth. Now, while I agree that reposting art is a pretty shitty thing to do, there is something else that people tend to overlook a lot that is just as bad, if not ten times worse.
Writers are constantly thrown under the bus. People fawn over fanart and commission people for prints and worship fanartists and get so fucking pissed when their favorite artists’ work is reposted. But writers don’t get that kind of attention. Writers slave for weeks and months and years to write long and intricate stories that will get 1,000 views IF THEY’RE LUCKY.They’ll get a few comments IF THEY’RE LUCKY. No one wants to pay for fanfiction. Only a select few writers are worshipped for their fics that are known throughout the entire fandom. Writers are so under-appreciated, and unfortunately, that means that their problems get swept under the rug as well.
Writers have their work stolen too. I know three people including myself who have been plagiarized within the past year or so. People copy fanfiction. They copy/paste fics from one site to another or sometimes they copy someone’s fanfic idea exactly and only change the dialogue and descriptions slightly so that it looks vaguely different. Let me tell you something. One of my best friends was plagiarized recently, and she has also had art reposted before. She said having her writing plagiarized hurts a lot worse than having art reposted.
A lot of times, when art is reposted, it’s an honest mistake by the person who reposted it. They didn’t know they were supposed to ask permission before reposting. A lot of times, people are very apologetic when reposting art and take it down if it is asked of them. I’m not saying that this is the case in EVERY situation, but the majority of the time, it is.
With plagiarism, THERE ARE NO FUCKING HONEST MISTAKES. TO PLAGIARIZE SOMEONE, YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY TAKE THE TIME TO COPY/PASTE SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK AND CHANGE IT SLIGHTLY IN HOPES THAT YOU WON’T GET CAUGHT, AND PASS IT OFF AS YOUR OWN ORIGINAL WORK. THAT IS NOT FUCKING OKAY. YOU DON’T TO THAT TO SOMEONE, DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH OF A SHITTY PERSON THAT MAKES YOU!?
Plagiarism is a lot harder to deal with than reposted art is. It’s easy to prove that you are the artist of your drawing if it gets stolen because most likely you will have other art pieces with the same style, and you’ll have a watermark on it. Those things prove that the art belongs to you, and if someone isn’t cooperative in taking the reposted art down, it’s easy to report it or have a swarm of people sending comments to take it down.
With plagiarism, it is a lot harder to get that sorted out. Writing styles are so different even when it comes to one author. It is very rare that you can tell who an author is just by reading their writing. I’ve read some fics that are so good and in character, you’d think the author of the original book wrote it. Most people reading a plagiarized fanfic won’t even know that it’s been stolen. I’ve actually been accused of having plagiarized my own story before, just because someone had read the copied fic before they read my original fic!! Whats worse, a lot of plagiarists will defend themselves to the death and try to make themselves look like the victim!!!
And it’s harder to find plagiarized fics, especially for me, because I don’t check the tags on ao3 and every other fanfic site to see if my work has been stolen. I don’t have the time to go through every fanfic in every tag for every shp that I’ve ever written for every day to make sure that my work wasn’t copied!!!
Do you even understand how stressful it is, how upsetting, to have your writing stolen!? To have spent days and weeks on writing something, only to have someone else post a fic that’s almost exactly the same!? Especially if it ends up getting more views or comments or kudos than yours!? It’s one of the most horrible experiences that I’d ever been through!
When I was plagiarized, I didn’t want to write anything for weeks. I was so afraid that it would happen again. To this day, I am still afraid that it will happen. I am so, so afraid. I don’t know what I would do if I found out that one of my series was being copied. My fic that was plagiarized was a oneshot. If I had an entire series stolen, I may never write a fanfic again.
Please don’t act like this isn’t a big deal, or something that doesn’t happen often, because it does, and it hurts a lot. Please give fic writers the credit they deserve and please, for the love of God and all that is good in this world, DO NOT EVER STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WRITING. AND IF YOU SEE A FIC THAT YOU THINK IS BEING PLAGIARIZED, GET ALL THE FACTS FIRST. FIND OUT WHICH FIC WAS POSTED FIRST. TELL THE ORIGINAL POSTER THAT THEIR WORK IS BEING COPIED. HELP THEM REPORT IT. DON’T JUST LET IT SLIDE.
TREAT PLAGIARISM THE SAME WAY YOU WOULD TREAT REPOSTED ART, BECAUSE BOTH OF THEM ARE EQUALLY UNACCEPTABLE AND WRITERS DON’T DESERVE TO BE SLIGHTED LIKE THIS WHILE THEIR ARTIST FRIENDS ARE PROTECTED
art theft is art theft, whether the art is visual or literary.
art theft is art theft whether the art is visual or literary
(…and I’m also mad that I still can’t find actual gifs of my sweet, strange boi. WTH, Tumblr? So I nicked the image below from @theglitch-and-kinkiplier. Hope you don’t mind!)
Kinki is actually an innocent bean.
He likes the restraints and whatnot, not for sexual reasons, but because they’re just plain fun to him. As long as they’re used properly, of course.
He’s the embodiment of Mark’s unfiltered weirdnesses. So, sitting in a tub of mashed potatoes for no real reason? That’s Kinki.
He spends most of his time, when he’s not tied up, playing with Chica. The pupper adores him.
He gets along well with Bim and Bing, Wilford is vaguely uncomfortable around him, Google is derisive, and Dark ignores his existence.
He’s the only other Ego besides the Host who actually understands the resident tiny spider-boy Doot.
He’s not permitted in Ego meetings. Not because of any discomfort on the other Egos’ parts, but because he has a terrible case of foot-in-mouth disease. He’s way too forthright and unpolished for the boardroom’s politics.
When he realizes he’s verbally goofed, he’ll shove the ball gag in his mouth and walk away. It’s almost like a pacifier for him. (Thanks, anon!)
He’s the least self-centered of the surviving Egos, the least violent, and the most kind-hearted. He’s a sweet boi who honestly wouldn’t harm a fly.
If you’re having a bad day, Kinki’s actually a good shoulder to cry on, because he’s an excellent listener. He’ll then do something weirdly hilarious to cheer you up.
He’s a one-S/O kind of guy. He’d never even consider straying or harming you in any way. That’s a “hard limit” for him, and he expects the same loyalty from you.
He’s very open-minded and loves trying new things. Wanna go skydiving? He’s your Ego!
This is my gift to @theglitch-and-kinkiplier from the secret Santa thing. I am so sorry its late but I hope you love it. I know that you love this little glitch so I decided to draw him in holiday clothes, he’s not amused at Jack for this but he promised not to do anything during the holidays. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays and have a Happy Knife year.
It occurs to me that as much as “humans are the scary ones” fits sometimes, if you look at it another way, humans might seem like the absurdly friendly or curious ones.
I mean, who looked at an elephant, gigantic creature thoroughly capable of killing someone if it has to, and thought “I’m gonna ride on that thing!”?
And put a human near any canine predator and there’s a strong chance of said human yelling “PUPPY!” and initiating playful interaction with it.
And what about the people who look at whales, bigger than basically everything else, and decide “I’m gonna swim with our splashy danger friends!”
Heck, for all we know, humans might run into the scariest, toughest aliens out there and say “Heck with it. I’m gonna hug ‘em.”
“Why?!”
“I dunno. I gotta hug ‘em.”
And it’s like the first friendly interaction the species has had in forever so suddenly humanity has a bunch of big scary friends.
its kinda scary how your whole life depends on how well you do as a teenager
oh my god No it doesn’t don’t put this kind of pressure on people?? you can absolutely fuck up in your teen years and continue on to a good life just fine. you can drop out of school, get a GED, still go to college and finish your degree as late as you want. i know people in my school who still haven’t graduated and they’re 26. some older. you can always transfer someplace else, always build yourself up from the ground. after a certain amount of college credits, a lot of schools really don’t care about your high school GED or your SAT scores anymore. if you fuck up in your teenage years you are not a failure!! you can ALWAYS re-invent yourself, always start over. there is always a second chance.
Reblogging this for my followers freaking out over art school/college. I dropped out of high school and never thought I’d get into college as easily as I did. You will be fine!
Fun story my biology professor just told us: When he was 23 he was married to his wife and worked two jobs to support them since she was in college: gas station attendant and construction worker. He worked these two jobs because that was the only work he could get since he was at the reading level of a third grader.
One night he was writing something and his wife noticed he was writing from right to left. Since she was studying occupational therapy she realized he had a learning disability and started working with him. He slowly began to learn to read, and at 26 got his GED and went to college.
His first year of college he took the lowest level math course he could take, 001. Over the years he worked on learning what he needed to, ended up graduating with a biology degree. He then went on to get his masters and PhD, graduating at the top of his class. He is now an extremely accomplished biologist and professor.
So don’t let anyone tell you that you’re future is based on your choices as a teenager.
Seriously. Do not believe this. You aren’t even stuck with your choices you make in your 20s. I didn’t start working in my current field until just after my 30th birthday. It has nothing to do with what I went to school for in my 20s. My husband has a political science degree, and he’s a sports journalist.
You are not tied to anything. Go. Be.
My day job did not exist when I was a teenager. And the idea of trying to be an author was a distant thing on my radar. I thought I was going to be an English teacher. And then I thought I was going to be a music teacher. And then I thought I was going to be a drama teacher.
Also in there: therapist, early childhood educator, then finally: web developer–because by then it was an actual thing that existed. I didn’t actually figure out what I “wanted to do when I grew up” until about eight years ago, when I was 36. I tried pursuing writing when I was 30, stopped, then started pursuing it seriously again when I was 40.
There is always time to change. And don’t let anyone tell you that high school is “the best time of your life” either, because that’s bullshit too.
Reblogging for my followers. My high school teachers didn’t know what to do with me, and I failed everything but a low photography grade. I thought university wasn’t for me, and settled for marrying a mediocre man who spent all day on Warcraft. Then I went to community college. Now I’m in uni doing a double English and philosophy degree, just back from America. I am also single.
Also important: College is not the only option. Don’t let anyone try to tell you it is. If you’re not academically inclined, the trades are an option and they are a good option– if the only thing you think you’re good at is make-up do that. There are people who can live comfortably just doing make-up. We have this idea planted in our heads as teenagers (and younger) that not fitting into an academic mould of some sort means you’re failing at life and this is bullshit. There’s no reason to feel like you’re “failing at life” because you don’t like school or were never good at it. We need skilled workers in the world, and the thing they don’t tell you is all work is skilled work. If it’s work, it takes skill. Yes, this encompasses “service” jobs, it encompasses all jobs. Please don’t think that what you do, or what you have an interest in doing is of less value than something that requires a college education. This coming from the college-educated white girl who is a seamstress because it’s what I enjoy. If college isn’t going to get you where you want to go, than you don’t need to go! It’s that simple. Take whatever path you need to get to where you are happy and comfortable and fufilled. If you’re doing what you love you are sucessful.
i didn’t graduate with my bachelor’s until i was 26 and life took a few turns along the way but now, at 37, i have a job that makes me genuinely happy. and it’s got nothing to do with how well i did in high school.
This! This make me cry… I’m 23 and I really don’t know where I’m going, so reading this kinds of storys makes me feel hope!
I love all this support and inspiring stories, but what I think op was getting at was that our teachers/parents/elders ingrain this idea in us that if we fuck up in our teens, we fuck up everything. So don’t ever let adults make you feel less for needing/spending more time to achieve your goals. You’re still amazing if you get a degree at 24 or 44 or even not at all
for everyone needing this as much as i do right now
