#speecher

[tina-aumont]

Although Dr. Raïna Manuel-Paris Gracia's birthday is on January 9th, today I want to show you the biography I've been collecting these days.

I hope you like the reading because it's very interesting, and who knows if in the future we find more interesting facts about her!!

Enjoy her and also her family members here.

Eleni xxx

[thelastspeecher]

I was talking to my dear friend @darfichihrenhundstreicheln about the character Martin the Warrior (who is a warrior mouse, obviously) in the Redwall books. Which my friend has never read. So in my attempts to, as an adult with an adult's literary analysis skills, explain him and his role, I came up with these comparisons:

Mouse Jesus (a bit obvious but not like, the worst analog)

A mouse demigod of some sort, likely akin to a Greek demigod given he has a legendary father whose metaphorical shoes he tries to fill

A mouse hero (demigod or fully mortal) that ascended to godhood upon his passing (a la Heracles)

When I elaborated as to why I was assigning Martin the Warrior these roles, darfichihrenhundstreicheln came up with ANOTHER option:

Mouse King Arthur

Which may be the closest one yet.

By the way, when asked, the author Brian Jacques described the creation of Martin the Warrior as being inspired by less of an epic hero and more of just like, a good guy that helps people out.

[lacnunga]

Everytime someone complains about pc culture and how you cant say anything these days i think about like a few centuries ago when guys would shoot each other at dawn bc one said something mildly salty about the other

[yahoo201027]

Passing Boat + Wolf’s Shirt Running Gag: Season 4, Episode 1 - “Bad Speecher Adventure” (Air Date: January 7, 2024)

[vernalloy]

[ID: A gif from Blackadder, of a man in Tudor clothing looking confused and irritated. All three gifs are the same. End ID.]

Tumblr: Only neurotypical people do X. Neurodivergent people never do X. It's literally never necessary to do X, and if you do, you are by definition acting out of malice.

Neurodivergent person whose neurodivergence primarily expresses itself as X:

[browniefox]

I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.

The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3

An Outreached Hand by WDW

Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3

Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb

Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.

Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature

A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.

Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger

Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.

like they were a perfect fit by hapful

Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit

Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.

none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch

I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross

Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.

Raising Stakes by MaryPSue

Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!

Lost and Found by PengyChan

Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.

Off-Season by anistarrose

Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.

Persist and Dwell by fencesit

A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.

flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.

If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!

[oldgayjew]

I'm not a Nazicrat ... ... I'm a deplorable I'm not a Muslim ... ... I'm an infidel I'm not an Obozo-ite ... ... I'm a racist I'm not a Hillary-ite ... ... I'm a sexist I'm not a Pride-ite ... ... I'm a Homophobe I believe in GOD ... ... I'm a Bible-thumper I know the 2nd Amendment ... ... I'm a gun-clinger I speak my mind ... ... I'm a hate-speecher I really don't give a rats ass what you think of me ... Any questions ?

[deeptrashwitch]

I just had another idea about an snippet, this time after talking with a friend of mine. So, enjoy it!

Alicia was talking with Alejandro while she did some paperwork, smiling as she heard him talk. While they did that, she also heard a furious muttering that called her attention, and soon Jackson walked in front of the office without paying attention. Once she saw him, a little smile appeared, seeing him wearing a three-piece suit for the first time in...forever.

"Amor? Everything okay over there?" Alejandro asked curiosly

"Yeah, just figured something out" she said with a chuckle "can you give me a second, dear?"

"Sure, tell me when you're ready"

And when the call was silenced, Alicia walked outside the office, looking at Jackson. She called him, making him looking at her, surprised. For a second Alicia stayed in silence before smiling again, then pointing to his neck.

"The tie knot is wrong" she said "it should be a bit more little"

"What?! Shit! I've been trying all day!" he shouted, frustrated

"Need some help?"

"Didn't know you learned how to do it, Captain..."

"I learned watching my dad do this for my brother" she muttered as she untied it and started the knot again "pay attention, this is the easiest"

"Your father teached your brother, huh?" he murmured as he looked the slow movements of the tie "my father never did that for me..."

"Never is late to learn, better now than never, right?" Alicia told him with a little smile "can I ask why you're dressed up like this? You look good, by the way"

"An old friend invited me to a conference in Austin, but since I'll be one of the speechers, I won't take the uniform with me"

"Oh, you're an speecher today? That's great news!"

"Yeah, it's the first time I do" he said with a genuine excited smile "they want me to talk about medical duties on the field"

"Heh, I bet you'll have many anecdotes about us to use as examples"

"Maybe"

"There we go! Alright, it's done"

Jackson looked once again to the tie, this time the knot was well done and looked pulcrous, so he smiled again.

"Thank you Captain"

"No worries, but hey...can you wait here for a second?"

"Uhh, sure. I still have some time before I have to go"

Then Alicia walked back to her office, searching on her desk for something she had bought before, and soon found it. It was something she bought as a treat for herself, but now it will have a better use, or well...that she hopes. Once she went back with Jackson, she gave him the little box, confusing him as she made a sign to open it.

"What...? What is this?" he asked, surprised as he looked the silvered cufflinks inside

"Don't worry about it now" she said as she patted his shoulder "take them as a good luck charm, will you?"

"Uh, um, I'll bring them back as soon as I finish the conference. I'll keep them as clean as possible"

"No, Jackson. Those are yours now, it's a gift"

"A gift? What for?"

She shuggred her shoulders with a smile, then going back to her office again, leaving the confused soldier behind. Alicia just shouted "Good luck! You'll do it great!" before going inside, and at the same time the blonde SEAL looked at the cufflinks before wearing them in silence as he walked away. Meanwhile, inside the office, Alicia turned on again the microphone as she chuckled.

"Why are you laughing?" Alejandro asked, also chuckling "it's rare to hear you like that"

"Just that I remembered my own adolescence when I saw Jackson, and it made me laugh"

"Did you help him with something?"

"The tie knot"

"Ahh, it's something difficult to learn" he said calmly "huh, apparently I'll have eight stepsons"

"What? Where did that come from?" Alicia asked confused

"Well, Luke is like your lil' brother and Edward like the family close friend, so there are eight of your boys"

"I mean, no, not that! Alejo, what do you mean by 'stepsons'?"

"Seriously you don't know why I say that, do you?"

"No...?"

"Ay cariño..."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you one day, but for now. Tell Jackson I wish him luck!"

"Oh no! Don't you dare hang up!" she shouted as he hung up with a laugh "Alejandro! Goddamnit!"

[isavedyouthewaltz]

Hunk Volleyball! From The Great North "Bad Speecher Adventure” S04E01

[beefkisser]

Beginning my proper watch party of The Great North season 4! Can't wait to see how my perception of these first handful of episodes has changed since they were what introduced me to the show.

First up, "Bad Speecher Adveture"!

I kinda find it hard to believe this is what sold me on the show lmao. It's not a bad episode by any means I just think it's really obvious how predisposed I was to love these characters, I saw Beef in the opening and was hooked INSTANTLY.

[ordinaryschmuck]

I think "Bad Speecher Adventure" is probably the worst episode of The Great North. Not only do I want someone to slap Moon so he could shut up, but it's just...movie parodies surrounding that make no sense for the stories people are telling. And as someone who already doesn't like it when Bob's Burgers has these anthology episodes, I like it less in The Great North that leans more towards wackiness and antics over slightly amusing situations in a semi-realistic situation. It's just...not for me.

[bizlybebo]

they call me the speecher. speaker. i have an impediment

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '25 - Week 4: Healing

I'm a day late but I'm still here! I figured I'd set this one in my Purposeful Abduction AU, in which Ford insists on being abducted by aliens and starts a life on an alien planet as a doctor. Meanwhile, Stan gets abducted by alien traffickers, and manages to escape, but is in very poor shape when he winds up at Ford's hospital.

This prompt is perfect for the AU, and gives me a chance to write Stan's recovery. Which, uh, I wrote a lot of. A lot more words than I thought I would.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Stan hunched over the sterile, futuristic toilet, trying to fend off another wave of vomit.

              “Are you doing all right in there?” Ford’s voice called. Stan retched again, but nothing came up. He groaned loudly. The door to the tiny hospital bathroom opened.

              “Didn’t say you could come in,” Stan mumbled. Ford pulled him up. Stan’s legs, weak from poison and malnourishment, buckled under him once he was on his feet. “I can make it back to the bed.”

              “Sure,” Ford said, infuriatingly patient. He helped Stan back to his hospital bed. Stan immediately curled up into the fetal position, shivering.

              “You poisoned me, I know it,” Stan muttered under his breath.

              “The opposite,” Ford replied. “The antidote for the toxins you ingested yesterday has strong side effects.”

              “Ugh.”

              “Press the call button if you need to be helped to your bathroom again,” Ford continued. Stan rolled over to glare at him. Ford didn’t react, annoyingly remaining in professional doctor mode. “I’ll increase your fluids to compensate for what you’ve been losing from vomiting.” Finally, Ford looked up from the hologram screen of his clipboard. “Get some rest.”

              “Not much else I can do.”

              “Then you should get very good at it,” Ford said shortly. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him. Stan curled up into a ball as his eyes drifted shut.

-----

              The mysterious liquid concoction in the cup in Stan’s hand was purple. A deep, rich purple. Stan looked up at Ford and the fish-headed alien that Ford had brought in as a “refeeding specialist”.

              “You said this was a chocolate milkshake,” he croaked. Like the rest of him, his voice had taken a beating from malnourishment and poisoning. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in months, but sounded like he went through a pack a day.

              “It is,” Ford said. Stan shook his head.

              “Nuh-uh. You put blueberries in this or something.” After a day in intensive care, he’d been moved to a general care room, to begin treatment that would help him recover properly. Now that he was no longer in danger of dying.

              “Blueberries don’t exist on this planet.”

              “But chocolate does?”

              “Yes!” Ford said, sounding exasperated. “Centuries ago, visitors to Earth collected chocolate plants and brought them back here. The different environment, however, results in cacao beans that are blue, not brown.”

              “This is purple.”

              “The roasting process turns- oh for the love of-” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink the damn thing. Dr. Quartir is a very busy fish who took time out of its day to observe you consume something for the first time in months.”

              “Not the first thing I ate in months,” Stan said under his breath. “I ate that poison hot dog. That’s why I wound up here.”

              “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. If you keep this down, it will be the first step in being able to eat properly so you can get back to normal. Don’t you want that?” Ford snapped. Stan stared down at the milkshake again. He swallowed.

              “Yeah, I do.”

              “Then drink the damn thing. Slowly.”

              “Bottoms up,” Stan mumbled to himself. His stomach churning, from either nerves or anticipation, he didn’t know which, he brought the cup up to his mouth. The taste was heavenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted chocolate so rich. Stan’s eyes widened. He tilted the cup back at a higher angle.

              “Slowly, Stan,” said the fish doctor in its papery thin voice. Stan reluctantly took a small sip instead of the massive gulp he wanted. “Good.” Stan finished the rest of the drink. When he was done, Ford took the cup from him. Dr. Quartir tapped the watchlike band on its wrist. “I’m going to set a timer. If you don’t vomit before it goes off, we can officially introduce ingestible fluids into your diet.”

              “Excellent. Dr. Quartir, should we talk in the hall?” Ford said. “Perhaps give Stan some privacy in case he doesn’t keep it down?”

              “Yes,” Dr. Quartir said. The two exited the hospital room, leaving Stan alone.

              Stan laid back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. The possibility that he might finally keep something down at this point felt as likely as summiting Mt. Everest.

              But as the minutes passed by and Stan’s stomach didn’t eject its contents, his hopes rose.

              Finally, the door opened. Ford and the fish walked inside.

              “Well?” Ford asked. Stan sat up, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.

              “Keep the milkshakes coming.”

-----

              Stan grabbed the twin rails. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up out of the hover chair to wobbly stand on his feet.

              “Excellent, Stan, but remember, you have to use your upper body and lower body strength,” said the physical therapist, whom Stan had mentally dubbed Dr. Hardass because he couldn’t remember her alien name. Her voice was robotic, thanks to the translator Stan had to wear to understand and be understood. She was green-skinned, and like the other members of this planet’s dominant species, over seven feet tall.

              Stan had to use the physical therapy equipment designed for children.

              “Even before everything happened, my arms were stronger than my legs,” Stan argued. Dr. Hardass shook her head.

              “Perhaps. But I imagine that your legs could still bear your weight and move you forward,” she pointed out. Stan grit his teeth. “We are focusing upon getting you walking. You cannot rely upon your arms. Now. Come towards me.” Stan muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Stan. If you do not start now, you may never do so.”

              “Fine,” Stan griped. He took a deep breath.

              Your arms are there to help, not to be the only way you stay up. Stan lessened how much he was reliant upon his arms. Immediately, being upright became a lot harder. Fuck. C’mon. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.

              The first step was agonizing. Stan felt like his knees were going to buckle. The second step wasn’t any better. He could practically hear his ankles screaming at him.

              Ultimately, Stan only made it halfway to Dr. Hardass before he had to call it quits.

              “You are doing better,” Dr. Hardass said as she helped him back into the hover chair. “You have a great amount of resilience. Much more than I usually see from my patients.”

              “...Really?” Stan said doubtfully. Dr. Hardass nodded.

              “Before you know it, you will be jogging again.”

              “I wasn’t a runner.”

              “But you did do some form of exercise recreationally.” Stan looked at her, surprised. “I can tell by how easily you understand my instructions.”

              “Oh. Yeah.” Stan looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I did boxing.” He sighed. “And I’d give anything to get back to it.”

-----

              The doors opened with a loud woosh.  Stan stepped inside and looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight of a gym on an alien planet.  Most of the equipment looked similar to what was on Earth, probably because the dominant species of the planet was very similar to humans.  But there were a few things that Stan couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d be used.  Equipment that looked like bench presses or leg presses, but were in shapes that a human couldn’t physically make.

              The alien accompanying him, Ford’s brother-in-law Lute, chuckled.

              “Your brother had a similar reaction the first time I took him here.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He turned to face Lute.

              “You took Ford to a gym?” Stan asked.

              “He asked.  He was curious about how it would compare to one on Earth.  According to him, it’s very similar.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan looked at a nearby alien doing chin-ups.  The alien looked a lot like Lute to Stan, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because they were both blue. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

              “Ford told me that you have some experience in gyms.”

              “I was the sporty one,” Stan said.  He looked down at himself.  “I guess you’ll just have to believe I’m telling the truth,” he mumbled.  He was still in physical therapy, but now that he was just about fully functional again, his appointments were slowly being phased out.  Fully functional, however, wasn’t good enough for Stan.  Which was why he wanted to go to the gym.

              My legs and arms haven’t been this twiggy since I was five.  I’ve gotta get back to normal.  Or at least close to it.

              “Since you have some experience, I’ll let you lead the way,” Lute said brightly.  “You can suggest what exercises you’d like to do and I’ll let you know if you can do them safely.”  Lute, whose human nickname was apparently from him mishearing Ford’s attempted nickname of “Luke”, was a physiotherapist.  He wasn’t on Stan’s medical team, but due to his expertise, he was the only reason Ford was even allowing Stan to go to the gym.

              Stan didn’t respond well to Ford initially outright telling him he couldn’t go.  Luckily, Ford’s husband, Fiddleford, stepped in to suggest his brother going with Stan.

              I’d probably be lost without a guide anyways.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  I’m not a fucking kid.  Ford shouldn’t treat me like one.

              “Stan?” Lute said, breaking through Stan’s frustrated thoughts.  Stan looked at him.  “Where would you like to start?”

              “Uh…”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked around again.  “It looks like most of the equipment here is too big for me.”

              “I would agree,” Lute said with a nod.  He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.  “Don’t worry, I run into the same issue all the time.”  Though Lute was more than a foot taller than Stan, he was considered abnormally short for his species, as was his twin sister.

              “I was gonna ask if you guys have any boxing equipment, but that would probably be too big anyways,” Stan muttered.  Lute frowned at him.

              “Boxing?” he asked.  Ford had taught all his in-laws English, so Stan and Lute didn’t need to use a translator to communicate.  But every now and then, Stan would use a term that Ford hadn’t bothered to teach.  Stan sighed.

              “It’s the sport I did back on Earth.  It involves a lot of punching.”

              “Punching?!”  Lute looked shocked.  “That’s a sport on your planet?”  Stan nodded.  “Ford didn’t tell me that.”

              “Yeah, well, he wasn’t very good at it,” Stan said under his breath.  Lute snickered softly.  “I’m gonna guess you don’t have anything I could punch.”

              “Hmm.”  Lute frowned.  “No, there’s some equipment I can think of that would be beneficial to working the muscles involved in a punching sport.  Some of it is even accessible to your size.  This gym caters to multiple species, after all, and while my species doesn’t engage in bloodsport, some of the smaller species on this planet do.”

              Bloodsport?  Okay, whatever.  Focus on the important thing.

              “There’s stuff here that would help me get back to boxing?” Stan asked.  Lute tilted his head one way, then the other.

              “I believe so.”

              “Great.  Take me there,” Stan said eagerly.  Lute shook his head.

              “It’s too rigorous for you right now.  You need to start off doing something that you can do slowly and gently.”

              “Like what?” Stan grumbled.

              “Swimming, perhaps.  Do you like to swim?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “Great!”  Lute beamed at him, showcasing the haunting needlelike teeth that his species had.  “Then let’s go swim!”  He leaned in.  “Ford told me that our swimming pools are different from those on Earth.  Apparently yours aren’t on the ceiling?”  Lute shook his head in disbelief.  He began to walk away.  Stan stood still for a few moments, processing what he had just said.  Finally, he gaped and chased after Lute.

              “Your swimming pools are where?!”

-----

              “Yeah, Uncle Stan, punch that thing!”  Stan grinned at the encouragement from Ford’s oldest child, Proteus.  He slammed his fist into the punching bag, eliciting a cheer from his nephew.  “Wow!”  Stan stopped to catch his breath.  He wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face his small audience.

              “You’re good,” said Lee, Ford’s nephew via his sister-in-law, Angie.  And, depending on how things went, one day via Stan.  Lee looked like the other members of the dominant species on the planet, with the exception that he had human-looking eyes, a trait randomly inherited from his human great-grandmother.

              “Can you teach us?” Proteus asked.  He was technically adopted by Ford and Fiddleford, but thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, often looked like he could be their biological child.  That was the case today.  Stan had insisted if they came to Human Town with him, Proteus couldn’t take his natural shape.  Too many of the inhabitants of Human Town, a part of the capital city inhabited by abductees from Earth and their descendants, had negative emotions related to Proteus’s species.

              Including Stan.  The trafficker that had abducted him years ago was the same species as his nephew, currently staring up at him with starry eyes.  Stan would die for his nephew.  But still, seeing him in his natural state was too much.

              “I might be able to show you two a couple things,” Stan said idly.  “I mean, I’m the only one on the planet who can teach you.”  He winked at Proteus and Lee.  “I’ll even do it for free.”  Proteus and Lee giggled.

              After Stan had become healthy enough to get back into boxing, he’d run into the issue of there not being anywhere he could train.  The lack of opponents was another potential problem, but the more pressing one was Stan not being able to get his hands on a speed bag.  Luckily, one of Ford’s brothers-in-law was a carpenter, who knew someone that made custom exercise equipment and furniture.

              Then, one day while at a bar in Human Town, Stan mentioned his boxing equipment to someone.  That person happened to own the only gym in Human Town, and insisted Stan set up some demonstrations for any humans interested in learning about an Earth sport unheard of on this planet.  Things snowballed from there, and now, Stan had a steady job as a boxing trainer at the gym.

              Lee handed Stan his towel.  As Stan was drying off, there was a polite cough.  Stan dropped the towel and looked over at the doorway to the room.  Ford stood there, a wistful look on his face.

              “Hey, Sixer,” Stan greeted him.  Ford nodded his head.

              “I see the boxing is still going well.”

              “Oh, yeah.  Being an ‘exotic’ human that knows things about ‘exotic’ human culture is a pretty big draw around here,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.  “Have you told your kids you used to box, too?”

              “What?” Proteus said eagerly.  He looked over at Ford.  “Really?”

              “Our father signed us up for lessons when we were young,” Ford said.  “But Stanley was always better than me.”

              “Yep.”  Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.  “We should put on an exhibition match.”

              “Ah.  No.”

              “Oh, c’mon!  We’d make a killing!”

              “I don’t have any interest in putting on an exhibition match with you,” Ford said firmly.  “You’ll just have to wait until one of your students reaches that skill level.”  He paused.  “Or until someone abducts a boxer.”

              “Second one would probably happen sooner,” Stan grunted.  “My students are too scared to put much power behind their hits.”

              “Such is the difficulty of teaching,” Ford said sagely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Proteus, Lee, are you ready to go?”

              “Yep!” Proteus said, hopping off the bench he and Lee had been sitting on.  Lee nodded and slid off as well.

              “Excellent.”  Ford looked at Stan.  “Enjoy your date with Angie.  Where are you taking her?”

              “That hole in the wall place on Zerbz Street.”

              “Earthling Eatings?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded.  “I’ve never been.”

              “You’ve gotta go there sometime.  They’ve done some crazy sh- stuff with Earth food,” Stan said, barely remembering to censor himself.

              “It’s good!” Lee piped up.  Ford smiled at him.

              “Stan has taken you there?” he asked.  Lee nodded.

              “I went, too!” Proteus said.  Ford ruffled his son’s hair.

              “If it has the seal of approval from the two of you, perhaps we should go there for dinner sometime.”  Ford waved at Stan.  “I’ll see you after your date.”

              “Yep.  See you later.”

              “Bye!” Lee and Proteus called.  The kids and Ford left.  The large, circular door closed behind them.  Stan sighed.  He looked down at the electronic band on his wrist.  It almost completely covered the scar from his poaching cuff.  It was glowing slightly, signaling that he had a message.  He tapped the band.  A hologram display lit up above the band with the message from Angie.

              “I’ll be there in twenty.  I can’t wait to try food from your culture.”  Stan grinned.  He pulled up the hologram keyboard and typed out a response.

              “Make it thirty if you want me showered.”  After a few seconds, the reply came back.

              “Deal.”

              Stan waved away the hologram screen.  He grabbed his all-in-one soap and began to head for the showers, whistling.  His band chimed again.  He tapped on it.  The hologram screen popped up again, this time displaying a picture.  Stan froze.

              The bands required profile pictures for all users.  When Stan first got this band, it wasn’t long after he was discharged from the hospital.  Thus, the profile picture was of him near his lowest point.  His face was gaunt, his hair stringy, his skin pale.  He barely recognized himself then, and he barely recognized the picture as himself now.

              At the bottom of the picture was an automated message.

              “It has been two years since you set your profile picture.  Would you like to change it?”

              Stan went to press the button to open the camera.  He paused.  After a moment, he shook his head.  He closed out of the notification.

              “Nah.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

I love being locked in dissociate couch tumblr no bed dissociate worm???

anyway if I made a social media it would be not care what you upload the sex whatever (exceptions of real that is illegal where the servers live but this would NOT include gay it is fully allowed) if America is scared not my problem however much like AO3 very organized content filter available include chose not tag and unlike tumblr there would be system for STANDARDIZE style such that not need block "thing tw" "tw thing" "cw thing" "thingy" "thing mention" etc. while also supporting obscure and specialized filter for weird personal triggers and squicks and spoilers and any other reason not want view. I think separately exists organizational tags such that have functionality and control over it BOTH globaly visbile and per account local, with customizable defaults for optimal ease of use. IMPORTANT IS CHOOSE WHAT EASE IS FOR USER. There would be so many settings for you with reasonable defaults to minimize the required actions for individuals on average to get wanted experience but it is all in user's hands. User has power. Important.

accessibility option: hide posts with undescribed image no need tag for filter. what if id is not in alt? remove need to ever put elsewhere! including when OP did not do it you can still add! it will be communicated who submitted ID and yes you can lie you can always lie lying is possible in all situations. You can also be corrected like always. additional benefit of add retroactive alt text: Screnreader sees it on the image! no need to wait for the part where they explain the image that was twenty paragraphs ago! Continuity! (note: I never used screenreader I simply assume it is not magic?)

there should also be option to, for filterless posts, specific warnings, or always, hide images, gifs, and/or videos by default if you worry it might contain visuals you do not want to see. if alt text exists you can choose to view it without viewing file, so you can check it to decide if you want to view, or get context for post without viewing, or just prepare yourself for what exactly you will see. Up to user!

I need to got to bed and reboot speecher but I don't care you get my ramble anyway. your problem now <3

[yahoo201027]

HAM ENLISTS HIS FAMILY FOR HELP IN FINDING A SPEECH FOR HIS PUBLIC SPEAKING CLASS ON AN ALL-NEW EPISODE OF THE GREAT NORTH SUNDAY, JANUARY 7, ON FOX

Ham enlists his family for help in finding a speech for his Public Speaking Elective. Judy, Beef, and Honeybee pitch competing stories for Ham to select from and end up secretly drawing from Top Gun, Good Will Hunting, and The Matrix in the process on the all-new "Bad Speecher Adventure" episode of The Great North airing Sunday, January 7 (9:30-10:00 PM ET/ 8:30 - 9:00 PM CT / 7:30 - 8:00 PM MT / 9:30 - 10:00 PM PT) on FOX. (GRN-402) (TV-14 L, V)

[docholligay]

I fucking love Fakir: “Okay, so let me get this shit straight.”

“Dangerous stories should not be born” What an interesting idea, and one that I disagree with wholeheartedly! I probably do not fit in with many of the views on tumblr, as I tend to be a pretty ACLU -style free speecher. I think you should be able to say whatever dumb shit you want without getting your hands cut off. I’ll think you’re annoying and boring if you say my family should have ended up in an oven, but I actually do think you should have the right to say that, and say that to my face, and then figure out that speech is free only because I don’t think the government should beat your ass.

When it comes to stories, even more so. I think dangerous, bad, challenging, hateable stories should be written.

Please note I have never seen this and am watching spoiler-free! Please don’t confirm, deny, or explain anything, even if it’s historical or cultural! Thank you!