#i know we have a cabinet for that

[void-thegod]

I don't think people realize how "democracy" has gotten in the way of progress.

Yes, in a more ideal society (with more ideal people?) This shit would all work out for the betterment of mankind and the planet.

But what do we have? A bunch of rich assholes, entitled assholes, and ignorant assholes in positions of power to fuck everyone over.

All together. Even if there are OBVIOUSLY solutions to all our ills... mf can just be like "nope. Would rather argue about the obvious"

Meanwhile the planet is on fire.

Please shut the fuck up if you know what we are currently doing is not working and it is not working fast enough

Edit: I will block you. This isn't an argument.

[nataliescatorccio]

undefined

sometimes, just sometimes, twitter does good

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

the amount of effort that goes into figuring out what to cook and eat every day is RIDICULOUS. i used to think people were so weird and boring for eating the same thing every single day but it truly does make life so much easier

[cupiidzbow]

im always live laugh love spicy chip it’s funny to think of which of my guys would like spicy food or not

[californiaquail]

i bring a sort of not wanting to do pointless waste of time shit to the job that employers really don't care for

[puhpandas]

honestly is ggy + the mimic being 'from the books' really that bad when henry Emily was literally the exact same way in clickteam fnaf

[corallapis]

<3

[fauvester]

Not sure if you meant for the questions to be askes BUT 9 for like iskra or something would be interesting since there is a mix of human and cardassian culture, does julian celebrate any terran holidays with them?

omg I wish I was a better worldbuilder, people come up with so many fun fake little holidays. Thanks to that one throwaway line in ST:D I've unilaterally decided that Cardassian culture is very food-centric, so you know baby Iskra got taken to lots of street food festivals celebrating military victories and elections..

Julian trying to figure out which terran holidays can be safely transported and re-potted on post-Fire Cardassia (I feel like he still tries to celebrate Federation day at home just so the kids can have some positive associations. Cue him and Lim trying to figure out how to cook a desert lungfish without soliciting their neighbors' help with removing the fibrous capsule..)

Halloween is a safe bet, I think. Scaring the spirits away is vaguely Hebetian and the locals enjoy both tricks and treats. Julian gives his coworkers at the hospital candy to distribute to her.

Still got to be lots of nationalist holidays to celebrate after the war, but now they're very much tinged with bitter memories. Now they're more of an opportunity to complain about the current administration and get drunk (both activities Iskra vigorously enjoys as an adult)

[fictionadventurer]

All the tour groups in Springfield should be very proud of me for how well I refrained from sharing all my fascinating Lincoln facts.

[scattered-winter]

working retail is making me remember how much i hate stupid customers btw

[bunnihearted]

.

[fanotastic]

Made the fatal mistake of taking a benadryl at work because I was having some allergic reaction. It was normal benadryl, not non-drowsy...

I was fighting for my life at peak brunch hour, I apologize to any customer I screwed over thanks to my fucked up state.

[dragonji]

ok so like. is it too much too ask for a heads up when entire areas of the living space you pay rent for is rearranged by your roommates or am i just a freak weirdo with control issues.

[toastingpencils37]

Just want to rant about Kai a bit, and how he is in Season 1.

Because I fucking hate him in Season 1. I'm sorry, but he's just such an asshole. And not a funny and lovable asshole. Just an asshole, whether it's about the green ninja shit or Nya being a girl.

And he does improve after his True Potential episode (due to character development), but prior to it (and actually during part of it) he's just unbearable to me.

And I remember that as a kid I hated him as well during Season 1.

[beliscary]

i'm working a longer heavier thing rn and I needed to switch it up so here have a "kiss on the nose" warm up!!

under 1k, dion/terence, just fluff

---

"Tell me, Terence—" said Dion, tilting his head as he chased a ray of sun. The lengths of his hair slipped loose over his neck, and with his collar opened to the air, his love’s fingernails could follow. Dion savored the blunted promise in it. These private moments were rare. The sanguine mood they shared was rarer still. "—what you know of the heavens." 

"Hm?"

"The heavens," Dion said. He could not stop himself from smiling. "You would know better than I."

Terence pulled himself away from his careful accounting of Dion’s skin and focused with visible effort, a question in his eyes. Dion did not preen, though it was a near thing. After a careful breath, he managed some semblance of seriousness.

"Of the two of us," he explained, his voice low, "you are closest to the Goddess's grace."

Confusion clouded his brow for only a moment, and then Terence made the most spectacular face. It was meant for his benefit, Dion knew; Terence had too much practice at restraint for Dion not to applaud a performance when he saw one.

Dry as bone, Terence said: "It isn't like you to forget the skies.”

"How could I?" Dion stepped into the neat space between his boots. "The ache in my neck would not let me."

Terence pursed his lips. "Nor in mine, my Prince." 

It was a small miracle, annoying someone who cared for you so deeply. Dion ducked his head so he would not laugh. 

As a boy, Terence had been as long-limbed and ungainly as a fawn. It was a certainty he would be tall; the only great mystery was whether he'd grow to be a reed or a fine thread of wheat. Even Father had come down on the side of wheat. 

When it became known that Terence's intention was to join the Imperial Legion, forgoing his chance at a life of ease, the whispers had been relentless: It was a perfectly respectable ascension, especially for one of his birth. Who would spit on such a gift? Some people—it was obvious the sort—had no gratitude. Tourneys and jousts and country contests were one thing for a boy to play at; war was another.

(Privately Dion had fretted, even as he himself had gone to the front lines with the Dragoons. It had nearly been a fight, and an ugly one at that. But he had decided the very moment the rift of power had opened between them that he would never wield his position over Terence to keep him from making his own decisions, no matter the fear that gripped him, and so his friend had gone, too. While he could not think the sentiment that had moved him for even a moment to consider forbidding Terence to go an error, it had shamed Dion to his core to know that he could have used it to believe in him instead.)

Naturally it had caused quite the stir when he had returned from his first series of campaigns scarred but whole, his shoulders broad, his back made strong from carrying the many victories he needed to recommend him to the Holy Order. Too late, Whitewyrm realized that a tower had been among their options. No scythe had harvested him. None of their number collected a coin off his odds.

With the lance Terence had affirmed his quiet, steady self-assurance, and with the sword, he had found steel beneath it. Tongues wagged approvingly at his ambition. As for Dion, the first time he had looked up to meet Terence's eyes after all the long months of looking down at his neatly penned letters, hungrily scanning the perfectly composed words for signs of either hatred or clemency, he decided he'd been a fool. While the reason had changed, Greagor preserve him, the fact of it would likely never. 

"You know well She has Her plans," Dion murmured, mostly to himself, a little wistful. He scratched at the bridge of his nose like a child.

Terence looked at him, appraising something.

It was a pleasure to see the wheels turn in his mind. More pleasing still to hear him give those thoughts a voice. But long moments passed, and he did not speak.

"Terence," Dion pressed.

No answer came. Terence had gone faintly cross-eyed.

"Terence!" Dion laughed now, openly, and shook him.

"I am sorry, my Prince. It's only—" 

"What?" said Dion, stealing closer yet. He narrowed his eyes, playful. "What is it?"

"First," Terence began, "I know what you share." 

Dion's mouth worked, but Terence squeezed at his nape to quiet him. 

"Second—hold a moment."

He checked over their shoulders—impossible man—then shifted forward the slightest degree, not bending, nor straining, only moving the precise amount he would need to kiss Dion on the very tip of his nose. 

Dion blinked. After a moment's reflection, he observed hoarsely: "Greagor is good."

Terence nodded, solemn. 

The faintest hint of a smile played about his mouth. Dion seized upon it and gave chase. Ambition was one of Greagor's virtues, after all. It would not do to throw away Her blessings.

[screamingay]

somehow these current roommates we have are the worst that ive known yet and last semester we literally had a girl who smoked cigs IN her bedroom. list of grievances below lol