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ever since my gf and i moved in together a couple years ago i've been semi-regularly executing something i call a "prank night." this is something you want to do frequently enough that it's not a special occasion, but spontaneously enough to make it a prank. the set-up for a prank night is simple

listen to your partner and take note of a couple things she's putting off doing, as well as a couple things she's been wanting

wait for a day when your partner is out of the house for work or errands

tell them that you'll be playing videogames/hanging out with the guys/doing very little all day. this way her guard will be down

now you can execute the four core aspects of the prank night

act of service. complete a chore or task that you know she's been dreading. doing the dishes/cleaning the living room/making an appointment/doing the groceries, etc.

lil gift. flowers, chocolate, anything that you know she wants but hasn't felt justified in getting for herself

sustenance. a charcuterie board, a homecooked meal, her favorite snack, or a fancy cocktail can all work

fourth, final, most important, when she gets home you sit her down and eat her out like she's your last meal on death row

The Look On The Girlfriend's Face Will Be Awesome!

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College friendship is sending one of your friends who's graduating soon a giant list of monster theory and gothic horror academic reading recs so they can download as many PDFs as possible before they lose their university database access

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fucking incredible as always holy shit!!!

"What's up big man?" is such a baller line my god!!!!!

Tactical Sulking

The human ship started the conversation by dumping all of its magazines into blackhole Kepler 92A. The PDC depleted their reserves within two minutes and the spinal mount took about twice as long. It would have been an impressive display of firepower if the Attali didn’t know for a fact that even a direct hit from any of the rounds would fail to punch through their hull. 

So instead of worrying they watched with the kind of morbid fascination that adults get while watching a child have a tantrum in public. They watched the ship light up, shitting ton after ton of tungsten coated iron into the corpse of a dead star until at last they ran out of ammo. Then and only then did the Attali send a second message over:

Are you quite finished? 

The response came back immediately. 

Gimme a moment, I’m just finishing a little math problem. But yeah, if it’s urgent, I can talk to you. What’s up big man? 

The Attali barely spent a second parsing over the message. They’d seen human bravado before. 

We sent you a request to surrender, acknowledging that none of your weapons are strong enough to pierce our hull. You opened fire on a blackhole for about five consecutive minutes. Tantrums and sulking do not impress us. 

The human ship took a moment to respond. 

Well, that’s a pity. The two things I’m best at are tantrums and sulking. The third is juggling, but in zero-g that’s… well. Easy. We could host a little talent show here though, if that would impress you. 

Are you going to discuss your terms of surrender, or are we going to have to kill you?

There was a longer pause before the ship replied back.

You know, a minute or two ago, that would’ve been a very scary threat, but you’ve got about ten seconds before shooting us becomes a mutual suicide. We’d strongly discourage that route. 

The Attali commander actually rolled his eyes. 

It’ll take a minute to charge our capacitors. I can promise it won’t be painful. Your bullshitting is a credit to

The message was cut off as a swarm of something ripped through the lower quadrant of the ship. The targeting sensors lost their minds - the projectiles were coming out of the blackhole. 

What the fuck. 

Main thruster was down, as were the nav lines. He had enough presence of mind to direct the side PDC, using recoil to push out of the line just in time to avoid the brunt of another burst of fire. A standard human ferroslug was caught by the lidar, but it was moving so close to C that instrument error was putting it at superluminal.

A second burst of mini rounds blew past the ship. They didn’t catch the brunt like they did the first time, but the stragglers in the burst tore through what remained of engineering. Casualty estimates in that quadrant went past 60% as the capacitor bank blew out, shorting out the main power conduit to their weapon systems. 

Without even PDC recoil to steer, they’d have been trapped, forced to take barrage after barrage of mysterious black hole bullets, if the human ship hadn’t taken the time to intervene. 

It rammed their craft. 

It was not a combat ram. It was a 15 mph collision that gradually turned up the gas. The little human ship chugged along, nudging the Attali cruiser out of the way, avoiding the next barrage by a mere 500 meter gap. 

It shouldn’t have been possible for a ship to look smug, but it did. 

The Attali sent the first message over. Telecom still worked. Life support was running on fumes, but of course the luxury systems were fine. 

What the hell was that? 

Gravity assisted munitions, the human ship replied immediately. The Attali captain had the damndest sense that they’d typed that in minutes ago and were just waiting to hit the send command. 

He took a moment to parse that.

The bullets weren’t being fired into the blackhole. They were being fired very, very close to it. Enough to slingshot around with stolen momentum. 

It was a stupid, stupid trick. And yet. 

What now? he asked. 

Well, the human ship replied. It was awful nice of you to not just kill us on sight. I suppose we could return the favor. Feel like surrendering today? 

There was a long, long pause from the Attali ship as the captain attempted to swallow his pride. The task was not made easier when, a few seconds later, another message came in. 

Chop chop. Tantrums and sulking do not win wars. *Exceptions may apply.*

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I must not mock Gen Alpha. Mocking Gen Alpha is the mind killer. Mocking Gen Alpha is the little-death that brings total generational solidarity obliteration. I will engage with Gen Alpha lovingly. I will permit them to be cringe. And when they grow up I will turn my eye to their accomplishments. Where mocking has gone there will be nothing. Only generational solidarity remains

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some of my favorite replies to this tweet. happy lesbian visibility week!

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I'm (finally) moving

My life for the past six months has been a series of cascading disasters, culminating in the need to find a new home seeing as how the house I've lived in for the last twenty years is almost uninhabitable, both literally and figuratively.

back in February, my close friend Jack moved across the country to stay with me in order to escape a dangerous family situation. since that move, he and I have been threatened with eviction by my landlord repeatedly. he and I have decided to rent a house with our mutual friend @caputvulpinum in northeast texas.

with a new home, I'll be teaching the both of them blacksmithing, and I'll be able to focus more on my art without worrying about my home or my family collapsing around me. I need to raise $2k for my share of the deposit and moving expenses, so please share this post everywhere you can. my gfm will be linked here and in my bio

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compilation

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The night is cool and balmy.

Your SECURITY GNOMES are raising an alarm.

> define 'balmy'

Balmy means "pleasantly warm."

Your stock of DICTIONARIES has decreased to 31.

Your SECURITY GNOMES report BANDIT ARTILLERY!

> observe night

The night is cool and balmy.

Your SECURITY GNOMES have entered COMBAT DELIRIUM.

> resolve temperature discrepancy

You haven't acquired enough THERMOMETERS to notice the discrepancy.

Your SECURITY GNOMES have activated the MEAT THRESHER.

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March 2024

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Hey Tumblr, I hate doing this but;

Broke my arm recently. Need surgery on it. My out of pocket expenses are gonna be $4300, $2000 of which need to be paid prior to surgery. Which is (checks notes) tomorrow.

Literally anything you send my way would help.

paypal.me/systlin 

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game changer, season 1: three men in their thirties make animal impressions

game changer, season 6: three improv artists are plunged into a hell dimension ruled by a chaos demon who has personally customised the stage to psychologically torture them in ways never seen before

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Me last year: "Lockdown isn't so bad. I'm mostly a homebody anyways."

Me now: ". . . I cannot forget Carcosa, where black stars hang in the heavens, where the shadows of men's thoughts lengthen in the afternoon when the twin suns sink into the Lake of Hali, and my mind will bear forever the memory of the pallid mask."

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While I understand that shitpost-y footnotes about titty pills are bound to have more notes than telling people about my book, it’s still a bit sad when the former gets 150k notes and the latter gets like 900. 😫

[the-forest-floor-is-so-full]

you can be a dickhead to me but my whimsy will always haunt your narrative