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safelyendangered:

The moral of the story is to always carry an axe

Safely Endangered by Chris [website | tumblr | facebook]



12-year-old girl: I don't want kids when I grow up.
Society: You'll change your mind when you get older. You're only 12. You're too young to know what you want.
16-year-old girl: I'm pregnant.
Society: How could you be so stupid? Do you know anything about safe sex? You should be ashamed.
20-year-old woman: I'm a single mother with an infant son.
Society: You should've gone to college first. You need a stable career before you can support a child.
33-year-old woman: I'm married and my spouse and I both have stable careers. I have two young daughters now.
Society: You're not staying home? Who's going to take care of them? You're just going to put them in day care while you work? That's selfish of you. You can't expect to raise decent kids with a full-time job.
45-year-old woman: I just had my first child.
Society: Why would you have a child when you're that old? Do you realize the health risks of being pregnant at your age? When your kid is a teenager you'll be a senior citizen. That's inconsiderate of you.
60-year-old woman: I haven't had any children.
Society: Your life must be so unfulfilling. Is there something wrong with you? Why didn't you want kids? How strange.


iluvatardis:

polyamorousmisanthrope:

valkyriestrikeofthelashatterdome:

gotterdammerungs:

                             (x)

And then in the future, everything changes. He’s been through it all, of course-watched humanity rediscover the heavens above them, watched them begin to wonder what’s out there. He cheered with the rest of the world when they landed on the moon, cheered as if he’d found Isla de la Muerta all over again, because there was something new. New treasure, a new horizon. But then they stop going, stop exploring, and he goes back to riding tankers across the rising seas. So he’s surprised when one day he wakes up from a night with his bottle of rum (his truest companion), and hears that there’s colonies on Mars now, and they need ships to supply them. He spends the next decade crafting new identities, learning all he can to qualify for the job, and after several tries (and even more faked deaths-this immortality thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in the age of the inerasable digital self) he gets it. The ships go nearly constantly now, the needs of the terraforming project creating an unbroken line of vessels from Mars to Earth and back again. “Show me that horizon,” he whispers to himself, his personal prayer of thanksgiving, each time they leave orbit, because the worlds, the stars are in motion and it’s never the same, with nearly three years for a round trip the ports are always different, even if they keep the old names. And finally one trip something goes wrong with the reactor, they’re too low on power and have to deploy the backups, and Jack (Lucky Jack, they call him, for he survives too many things he shouldn’t but science has yet to accept that maybe some things weren’t old wives’ tales after all) goes out for the spacewalk to bring up the solar panels. And as they rise, geometric patterns black against the sun’s glare, he’s struck by a powerful sense of déjà vu, because it’s all here-wind and sails, a ship beneath his feet and stars above his head, horizon in all directions. He wonders, for a moment, if the reason he’s still here is because the universe wanted a witness, to mourn the end of one age of exploration, and rejoice in the birth of the next.

Thank you for writing this. It made me cry, but oh I am so relieved to see the yearning for the stars.

That shouldn’t have given me as many feels as it did… 



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hoechlined:

AU: There’s a new (werewolf) guy in town. Based on.

Happy late birthday, chris! (sorry i’m trash)



+ 382

Let me in Stiles, let me in.



+ 618

hoechlined:

AU: Derek wonders why Stiles keeps coming back to his loft. Based on.

Happy birthday, Rena!



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