Latest Posts by highdrivingsarah - Page 3

Humans are Loyal if Properly Bonded

I was in charge of feeding the prisoners. This had been my task since the Queen had taken me and 2 dozen other Murania as hostages. The others had not survived long, but I adapted. Obeyed.

The Queen had taken a human. A rare being this far into the Deep, but one feared from one end of the galaxy to the other. According to the Encyclopedia of Sentient Beings Capable of Space Travel, humans needed a diet of roughly 2000 calories a sol served in traditional 3 portions a sol. Which meant that I had to approach the human three times a sol. I could not fail my duties.

The first attempt at feeding the large being ended with a tray thrown at my head with enough force that it would have caved my skull if I had not ducked in time. The human was raging, slamming their entire body against the containment bars with enough force to shake the floor and… and roaring. I cleaned the mess of nutrient paste as fast as I could and fled.

But five hours later found me trembling in front of the human’s cage with another tray of nutrient paste. The human had calmed and was glaring at me intently. I knew they did not speak Murania, but still I spoke my native language as I offered the food again. I did not get to speak it often and missed the sound. “Guria?”

The human tilted their head and to my shock, repeated the word, then repeated it again until they mimicked the sound perfectly, even with the slight whistle at the end.

I offered the tray. “Guria.”

They eyed it suspiciously so I tasted it, showing it to be safe. “Guria.”

They held their hand out and I gave them the tray, scuttling to a safe corner before they could attack me with it again.

They tilted their head again and scowled, then spoke in broken Common. “I thank”

I fled, claws scratching against the shiny floor.

Another five hours passed all too soon and I was back at the human’s cage with the final meal of the sol. They were moving slowly around the cage with their ear pressed to the wall, tapping with their knuckles. I watched them for a moment, confused at the erratic behaviour, but only managed a few seconds of observation before their head swiveled directly towards me and they stopped to face me.

I walked closer and offered the tray. “Guria.”

They took it. “How talk thank in you mouth talk?”

“Meesh Meesh.”

They opened their mouth and let out a loud, short bark, a laugh according to the ESBCST. (I studied it dutifully when they were brought aboard.) “Meesh Meesh!” They pointed to themselves. “Michael.”

My wings ruffled, the sound was so similar! I pointed to myself, “Mikel”

The human shook their head and pointed to themselves. “Me Michael.”

I jerked my head in an upward motion called a nod. “Yes, you,’ I pointed to them, “Michael.” I pointed to myself. “I, Mikel.”

They laughed again. “Michael, Mikel. Much same.”

I chittered. “Very similar, yes.”

Their eyes narrowed. “You work here?”

I bobbed sideways, a bit noncommittal, “As I must.”

“Must work?”

I searched for the simplest way to translate what I meant across the language barrier. “No work, in there.” I pointed to their cage. “Work, out here.” I hopped encouragingly. “You work soon, yes?”

The human bared their teeth and snarled. “No work. Fight.”

My wings flattened against my spine and I fled. Humans were so aggressive.

The next sol I completed my first duties and then found myself lingering outside the containment hall. I was apprehensive about what mood I would find the human in this time. I fluffed my wings out to convey confidence and clicked in with the human’s first meal.

“Mikel! Guria?” They were bouncing on the front part of their feet, hopping up and touching the ceiling, then dropping to the floor and pushing themselves up with their arms repeatedly.

“Yes. What are you doing?” I slid the tray to where they could reach and backed to a… well not safe but safer, distance.

“Work body. Stay strong.” They flopped over onto their back and turned their head to look at me. “Meesh Meesh.”

“Zuan.” I bobbed sideways before deciding to ask them the question I had been mulling over. “You’re Nice, mean, nice, mean.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah. Head bad.” They hooked their fingers like claws and shook them around their head. “Scare, tired, Fight.” They gestured to the bars and glared. “Not like.”

I nodded. “I know that feeling.” A chime sounded, signaling the Queen’s approach. I flattened myself to the floor and made way.

The Queen slithered in, her scaled body scraping against the floor with a sound that made my feathers stand up. She reared to her full two meter height and flicked her tongue out to taste the air.

“Human. You are mine now, you will serve the glory of me.”

Michael looked her up and down and whistled lowly then pronounced in exact Common. “Ugly. Mother. Fucker.”

I gaped at them in horror. They dared insult the Queen to her face?

The Queen hissed, but smugly coiled. “You will serve me, human. I know your kind. You are loyal. I feed you, I provide you shelter. I give you safety. You will love me.”

The human backed up, crouching into a fighting stance. “No love, mother fucker.”

The Queen wiggled and slid towards the exit. “You will serve me.” They paused to pat me on the head. “You have duties, tiny one.”

The next several sols passed in the same manner. I did my duties, I fed the human, we exchanged words. At night I tended my secret garden grown in glasses of water and composted nutrient paste from seeds and cuttings I snuck from the Queen’s hoard. The human was learning not only Common but Murania at a breathtaking pace. We could hold whole conversations now and I was no longer… completely apprehensive about approaching their cage. Michael had not acted aggressive towards me at all since the Queen’s visit.

The rare human plant called a “green bean” plant had fruited after several months of care and pollinating with the tip of my own feather. I was ecstatic over the first fruits of my secret labor and I felt that Michael would appreciate my excitement and maybe a taste of his home planet. Humans were said to be incredibly empathetic and sentimental.

That morning I secreted a pair of bean pods in my uniform and headed for Micheal’s cage. They seemed to notice something was different right away, peering at me with concern. “All okay, Mikel?”

I nodded and nervously whispered. “Secret, right?”

They lowered their voice and moved closer to the bars. “Yeah, secret.”

I showed him the beans. “I grew these. It’s the first harvest from the plant! It’s a huge secret, but I wanted you to have them.”

Michael stared at the beans with an expression I didn’t recognize for a long time before whispering, their voice strangely rough. “You get trouble for these?”

I nodded and tried to shove the beans into their hands. “Yes, a lot of trouble. Take them!”

They took them and smiled. “Meesh Meesh, Mikel. This…. This mean lot to me. I can’t say enough. Meesh Meesh.” They bit into one and grinned, crunching happily. “Very good! You do good!”

I chittered and ruffled my wings, pleased with the praise. “Zuan, Michael.” I gave them their tray of nutrient paste and fled.

The next day (human word for sol) I found a broken something in the Queen’s trash bin. It was silvery and had a lot of moving parts and made me think of Michael. I shoved it into my uniform and snuck it to Michael. They were overjoyed and immediately began fiddling (another human word I find pleasant to use) with it.

I found I enjoyed making Michael happy and kept my eyes out for things to gift them. A broken flute, a torn book, a shiny rock shard, a discarded pipe, a bit of string. It all was random junk, but Michael was still so happy for each item. It… was a pleasant feeling, almost like being back with my brood mates.

Then… Then the alarms sounded one morning and the ship rocked with an explosion. Frightened, I grabbed my precious green bean plant and rushed instinctively towards Michael’s cage.

Only to find they weren’t there. The bars were broken, bent outward and a piece of the wall was torn open, exposing sparking wires and smashed circuits. The lights were flickering and I could hear screaming. I decided to run for the escape pods and hoped that the Queen died in that explosion.

I had barely skittered into the hallway when I found Michael. They were fighting with a guard twice their size, but easily leaped around it’s bulk and stabbed it in the base of the skull with some sort of spear. A primitive weapon, but still deadly in the hands of the human. Michael rode the body of the guard down to the ground and leaped off, brandishing the spear at me.

Frozen in fear, I distantly realized the weapon was made from the shiny rock tied to a piece of pipe. I was to die from a weapon I provided then.

Except, Michael lowered the weapon and smiled. “Mikel! I find you! Come on! We get out of here!”

“Out… Escape?”

“Yeah! C’mon, I stole codes for ship!”

I followed them numbly, too scared and shocked to process that not only had a single human escaped a 1st class prison cell with just bits of junk, but had also destroyed the Pirate Queen’s ship, and was taking me with them.

It wasn’t until we were flying fast and far from the wreckage, headed towards a Trading Station, that I found my voice. “Why… Why would you save me? I…” I didn’t know how to express the fact that I was nothing, tiny, worth only for cleaning while the human was strong, big, and apparently a fearsome and brilliant warrior.

Michael glanced at me from the corner of their eyes. “We friends, Mikel. Friends no leave friends. Also, you trapped like me. On other side of bars, but trapped same.”

“Friends? But Queen provided for you, you were supposed to bond with her?!”

The human looked at me incredulously before laughing long and loud, his head thrown back with the effort of it. “No Bond with Queen, she put me in cage. You! You give me food, you talk, teach, you bring me presents. You good friend. Queen Piece of Shit.”

“Oh.” Michael had bonded with me. And.. I with them it seemed. And we were free. “Meesh meesh, Michael. You’re a good friend too.” I hugged my green bean plant. “What now?”

“I thinking I turn in Queen head for bounty, use money buy good ship again. After, you want go home or you want explore?”

My wings flared in excitement. “Can I have a garden room on our ship?”

Michael grinned and tossed his arm (gently) around my shoulders. “Yes, you have garden room. Grow lots plant in space. Explore! Garden! New Planet! New Seed!”

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 , Part 7

Full Story on A3o

Alien: You’re telling me that in times of great distress humans have been known to suddenly gain the strength necessary to lift objects more than a dozen times their own weight?!

Human: Yeah, it’s called “hysterical strength” and it usually happens in life-or-death situations, like when someone gets stuck under a car or something and someone lifts the car to get them out. We can’t really test it though, ‘cause it only happens spontaneously.

Alien: Humans have the ability to tap into untold strength and power and you don’t even know how you do it?

Human: Pretty much, yeah. We think it has something to do with temporary analgesia, so we just don’t feel the pain we should when we pick up a 3000-pound car.

Alien: YOUR PAIN RESPONSE JUST SHUTS OFF?

Human: Yeah, it’s like an adrenaline thing? Do you not have that?

Alien: Fuck you and your entire species of tiny juggernauts.

Normally I don’t like bringing this up, but: Tumblr is making it increasingly difficult for writers and artists to get their posts to show up in tags and searches, meaning that our fics and art are being exposed to fewer people. 

Yes, it’s still possible to get posts to show up, but in the case of the search function, it’s only if they have no links - not even links to other Tumblr posts. For people like me who include links to other chapters in my fic so readers can get caught up on chapters they might miss, this is a huge problem. I basically have no choice but to include those links, or else I would make things massively inconvenient for my readers.

So why am I telling everyone this? Because this means reblogs are becoming more and more important to creators. With posts so difficult to find in searches and tags, reblogs are one of the few other ways for people to find new artists or writers.

You’re under no obligation to reblog my stuff, of course, but I want to put it out there why reblogs are so important to those of us who write/draw/create content.

(Also: While I’ve personally verified the stuff that’s going on with searches, I have no clue what’s going on with tags. Some of my stuff is showing up there, some isn’t, seemingly with little correlation to the links included. So tags might not be quite as strict, but they do seem to be less consistent.)

They are just denying the truth

are gender nonconforming cishet girls actually mirroring lesbian experiences, behaviours, and fashion or are they just claiming surface level commonalities as their entire identity just so they can say absurd, borderline homophobic shit to lesbians like "i too have short hair and own a flannel, and I'm not a lesbian" "having a pet cat doesn't make you gay, i have a cat" "i'm that close with my best friend too and we're not in love with eachother" "i've never been boy crazy either" "it's called being a tomboy" "just cause she has a masculine job doesn't make her butch, I work with a lot of guys as well" "captain marvel is straight because she's basically me" "hashtag no makeup no skirts" "not a dyke"

???

How Queer people type

• several spelling errors

• CAPS LOCK

• LGKDSJNANEIFJR

• ??!!?!?!?!!

• ???

•Swearing like a motherfucking salior

• a superfluous amount of ‘bro’

I mean, I am german and even in germany we have this joke “Deutsche Sprache, schwere Sprache” which means “the german language is a difficult language” But even we dont do shit like this. Sure we have like complicated formal and informal forms and like hella big words and stuff But come on we dont say “I am sleeping” we say “Ich schlafe” > “I sleep” This -ing form is driving me mad since 2012 (5th grade), nowadays i get it but its useless

English is such a dumb language like why the fuck do I have to be sleeping

you can't be a verb lmao fuckin clowns

I feel attacked

Are you even a lesbian if you aren’t pissed off all the time?

EXACTLY BUT HERE IN GERMANY ITS FOR ME 7:30 TO 5:00 WITH AN HOUR LUNCH

MADNESS!

i hate the whole thing about "working 9-5" cause that just doesn't make sense to me

all my jobs have been 8-5 with 1 hour lunch what is this American fuckery

Not to sound like a 90s shallow prep, but how you dress can affect your self esteem, and putting energy into wearing things you actively like and projecting an ideal of yourself through fashion instead of seeing clothes as things you have to put on out of obligation helps.

It also can give you a sense of control over your appearance that you otherwise wouldn’t have lmao

Wait, I just realized english is not just a language for us to understand each other, but THERE are people using it unironically 

no one who speaks english as their first language is valid and that is the tea for today

Why I hate this equality-talk

You know what makes me fucking mad?

We are talking about how men should be able to be feminine or women should be able to be masculine. But that whole topic is so fucking stupid, like why do even entitle ourselves to talk about this.

We talk about this topic and how we all should break this norm. And it makes me so mad to even think about breaking the roles we are assigned for.

Because we do not have the right to talk about this!

Because as soon as the topic is about transgender men or women it is off limits that they could even dare to not be like the norm. So why do we entitle ourselves to talk about cis women and cis men breaking these norms? 

A transgender woman liking football, cars or anything “masculine” or a transgender man liking for example pink, Make-up or well anything “feminine”  then they get hate, called out for something ridiculous and called fake. I also do not like the term transgender at all, you are either a woman or a man or both or neither or something in between. But saying he/she is transgender is like saying, they are a man/woman but not really. transmen and transwomen are Men or Women (Binary or Non-binary does not matter!) but calling them trans is like saying (for me it is at least) that they are not truly a man or a woman.

That’s not okay, liking something, preferring something.

It doesn’t make you less man or woman! 

No. Trans women

trans girls

RACISM BEING USED AS A TACTIC 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

What a good day to love girls.

dogs are so pure

Oh thats me

Well, i mean the distant and cold, cery attractive, sarcastic, badass lesbian with questionable morals

My type is more like a cute sweet, but still kind if outspoken, nice and understandable woman

My type: Distant/cold and very attractive sarcastic badass lesbians with questionable morals

Yes.

are you ever just so zoned out that you find yourself watching Tiktoks That Radiate The Same Energy As Vines For 5 Minutes and 39 Seconds ™ and Riverdale Being Cringe For 3 Minutes and 27 Seconds ™

A little something

No one's ever going to see or care about this but I just wanted to put it out there since I'm not exactly in a position to say these things anywhere else in my life.

Right now, in Los Angeles, it is 1:18 am on 1 July, 2019. Pride Month, a time of glowing victory for the LGBTQ+ community and their (Our? Am I even allowed to say that?) allies, has come to an end. After everything that's "gone down" this month (and oh boi did stuff go down) it feels like something has passed me by, a tidal wave of happiness and freedom that I was too afraid to grasp a hold of and ride. And because of my cowardice, I remain trapped in what many would call a self-made prison.

But this isn't just about me wallowing in my pitiful regrets and attempting to express my emotions through a mediocre literary passage (what am I even writing lmao). While this past month and year have indeed been an additional cell wall of sorts to the prison of my own making, they have also shone light through the dark, hopeless bars, and it is those slivers of light from this Pride Month that I want to take a moment (maybe a little longer than a moment lets be honest lolz) to acknowledge and thank with all of my heart.

To begin: thank you Los Angeles and San Francisco Pride for showing me what great happiness can come from being truly and authentically free. Although I was not there in person, I lived vicariously in these festivals through Twitter posts and screaming calls from friends covered in rainbows and glory. Pride festivals such as these have always seemed like such amazing, magical events, and I hope that someday I will be able to be at one in person when I am happy and free.

Next (and maybe most importantly): Daniel Howell, quite possibly one of the bravest little video-making, cringe-inducing, genuine, kind (is his own quirky little way), and authentic YouTube beans that I've ever had the fortune of stumbling across.

Thank you. You (this feels weird ehee) said that you hoped that your coming out "story" (it's a story that never really ends, I think) would help people, and I think that it's quite clear that you've succeeded there. It was so incredibly amazing and trusting of you to just - open yourself up to the world like you did. The stories you told and the long journey that you laid out in the open broke my heart with the pain of its relatability (that's probs not a word lmao) and then mended it with your words of hope and (frankly hilarious) encouragement. I wish to be half as brave as you are. There's quite a lot I could keep on talking about (oops I'm sorry!) but I'll stop here. Just,, thank you for giving me and so many others the courage to exist (and to live).

Finally (and also super importantly): to the quiff-sporting, translucent-skinned other YouTube bean, Phil Lester. The amount of times I laughed during your coming out video is atrocious and now I have abs (can confirm). Your light and very low-key approach to such an important part of your life was rather inspiring and uplifting. It was similar to a reminder not to take life or anything too seriously, because I have time and a future to look forward to that I just need to live in and not just survive in. Thank you so much for that little piece of light, I'll continue to look forward to the future.

My gratitude to a pair of tall British boys who I've never even met is frankly alarming but its out there and I'm eternally thankful for their kind words that have helped me get through quite a lot. Be safe, do good things, and remember: the future is clear. It's pretty queer.

May all of your futures be hopeful. ❤

I realise my parents don’t actually understand my twisted Gen Z sense of nihilistic humour like I’m currently coughing my lungs up and I have four shows to peform in the next week and two full dress rehearsals so I said ‘I could just chug an entire bottle of cough syrup before each show and hope for the best’ and then my mum said she was gonna take the bottle out of my room because she genuinely thought I was going to do it like no mother if I was going to chug an entire bottle of anything it would be bleach

Parents Ig

I just had a lowkey fight with my mom.

She is like „you need to see the happy in life otherwise you wont notice it“

And I am like „this world is shit, it’s breaking but I have to live with it and I’d rather take a good moment than faking and lying myself into how beautiful it is, cuz it isnt but I still love it. After all its the only world and life I’ve got.“

She doesn’t understand this, she dont want to.

But I still have the feeling with the both of us, I understand this world better and feel way more comfortable. Cuz I just have accepted it and not trying to idolize it.

And she is such a hypocrite. But yeah anyways..

fat femme lesbian culture is wearing basketball shorts under skirts

Student in the hall: if you’re stressy and depressy an your life is kinda messy clap your hands!

Entire hall: *CLAP CLAP*

“This little baby deer got so scared crossing the road from seeing the car approaching, it dropped down in the middle of the road and wouldn’t move. After stopping and turning the car off to help them calm down, the mama deer cautiously came to the rescue.“

(Source)

Welcome home, @danielhowell. 💕

❞You are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side.❝

Homeless artists needs help!! Please consider buying a piece of art.

Six weeks ago I was evicted from my childhood home by my mother’s bankruptcy trustee. The eviction was very much against my mom’s will. My mom has had a number of health issues necessitating her being in an assisted care facility. At the time I was saving for an apartment. I never had quite enough to pay the deposit and first month’s rent. Since I’ve had to blow through all of it. I periodically have to contribute money to mom as she isn’t able to work. I have to pay her phone cell bills so we can talk. I often am too poor to get to the suburban neighborhood of the facility.

I book airbnbs for 4-7 days as I can afford. Without airbnbs I’d have nowhere to go. I don’t have family that would help. People I’ve known 18 years won’t even acknowledge a birthday text or a handpainted present.

A week ago my e-mail was hacked. The hacker used their control of my email to change all my passwords and steal all of the money I had for food, transportation, and shelter. I did get it sorted but still have not received any of my regular distributions from Etsy. I haven’t had one in well over 10 days because of that disgusting hacker. I have to get a new airbnb as my current booking is up tomorrow.

In addition to being hacked my mom had a breathing crisis. Being 5'11 112lbs, still recovering from viral pneumonia and crazy high pollen counts are a bad combination. I had to go be with her. She’s back at the rehab facility now with a prescription for an immunosuppressant.

I’m in a really desperate situation. I’ve set up a 40% off sale on etsy for purchases $50+. The sale coincides with Mother’s Day.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/KateHavekostFineArt

However it takes time for money to clear through etsy and then my bank. So for tumblr followers only I’m having another sale. I receive money via PayPal and Venmo instantly so

Sales can be paid via

paypal.me/KateHavekost

or

Venmo

Kate-Havekost

“i’m gay”

dan. i know coming out is weird and difficult and awkward and happy and sad. but thank you. thank you for making me feel accepted even when you weren’t out. thank you for preaching acceptance and love for the past few years. thank you for stamping yourself into our hearts and showing us it’s okay to be who we are regardless of sexuality. thank you for opening your mind and soul to us. thank you for sharing even more of yourself. you didn’t have to but you did and have made thousands of people feel even more loved and accepted. i know it may have been extremely difficult but you have made such a big difference in my life. we wouldn’t be the same without you. thank you thank you thank you.

Dan Howell has come out…. Happy pride!!

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