Reminder that one of the flashes had Nepeta and Equius talking about their relationship, with Equius feeling guilty that he didn’t contribute anything to their relationship even though Nepeta did so much for him.
Her reaction was basically “The only thing stopping me from killing millions with my bare hands and living in the wild as a feral creature is the absurdly strict rules you made me live by. THAT IS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST.”
I hate hate HATE all those 2edgy 4me theories about kids shows. Like Angelica dreaming up the rugrats, or the ed, edd, and eddy children being ghosts, or literally anything that takes a lighthearted and fun kids show and has to turn it into some tragic take of rape or murder or misinformed mental illness.
So you know what? From now on I’m gonna do the exact opposite. Every cool grim-dark show is now because of a bunch of children. To get us started:
Game of Thrones: A middle-school DnD campaign with the most angry, vindictive DM who has promised to kill everyone’s player characters (and their family) by the end.
The Walking Dead is actually a bunch of kids playing zombie apocalypse in their neighborhood and every time someone “dies,” it’s because their parents called them home for supper.
Breaking Bad is actually just a fanfic the students in Mr. White’s class write about him because no one has any idea what he does with his free time and the running jokes about it got wildly out of hand.
These are all officially my headcanons for the actual shows now
let me share a memory with y’all. it’s from i guess 1978 or thereabouts. it’s high summer. i don’t remember where my mom was driving me, in our avocado green chevette, i just know there was a traffic jam that turned 35w northbound into a parking lot from horizon to horizon.
picture it – wait, you don’t have to use your imagination, this happened all the damn time back then.
every one of those damn cars was burning leaded gasoline. there were no emissions regulations. there were no safety regulations. there were just thousands and thousands of detroit steel shoeboxes belching visible smoke as they idled, engines loud and hot, here and there a radiator giving up in the heat, a cloud of burning oil rising.
i, a smeet of five or six, was choking on toxic smog.
i reckon it was about a half hour into the traffic jam that i first threw up. i remember a blinding headache, i remember being confused, i remember dry heaving with my arms and head hanging out the window, the green metal of the car burning my hands and my chin. i don’t remember passing out, but i’m told i lost consciousness before mom was able to get to an off-ramp, because there were no emergency lanes on the highways back then.
i lived. and life went on. what were we going to do, complain? if i’d died, the cause of death probably would’ve been recorded as heatstroke, not carbon monoxide poisoning.
i know i’m probably preaching to the choir here on tumblr. but i really wish i could tell that story to the people who think deregulation is no big deal. i wish they’d put themselves in my mom’s shoes.
or even just look at some old pictures, then look out the window.
ever notice how cityscapes used to have that orange tint and hazy aura? yeah, that’s poison gas.
remember how the mississippi river used to be a stinking soup of baby-shit yellow sludge covered with disturbingly stiff rafts of light orange foam?
i can’t even find pictures of the sludge and foam, i guess they didn’t end up on the internet. the smell was indescribable. that oily shimmer. the reek of dead things. people didn’t boat on the river for pleasure; it smelled too bad, it was too ugly, and you could get super super sick if you touched the water.
and now look at it.
i still wouldn’t want to drink it, but if i fell in i wouldn’t bolt for the shower in a panic, you know?
if the thieving billionaires get their way, we can kiss those sailboats goodbye, and learn the smell of toxic foam once more. the ultra-rich won’t even feel the extra money, they’ve already got more than they could ever touch, they just stash it in offshore accounts to rot, but the rest of us will return to a time of neverending nausea and weird cancers. a time when every elementary school class had at least one kind who’d been born with no fingers or their heart outside their body, and this was just… the way things were.
i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to longpost. it’s just. god. y’all have no idea how CLEAN everything is now, compared to when i was a kid. and these rich old men are counting on that, on people not knowing or not remembering how bad it was before regulation, not realizing how much we need these protections until it’s too late.
I am Silver Tongue, I am an artist. I have many characters and you can check out my art in the art tag. I occasionally practice witchcraft though I don't do anything too complicated. I am girl 2 and don't know what else to put here.
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So average Canadians?
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Let me clarify I mean the polite and non-violent. The average Canadian is not a bank robber.
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