Things that caught my attention.

Supporting evidence:

1. Humans say ‘ow’, even if they haven’t actually been hurt. It’s just a thing they say when they think they might have been hurt, but aren’t sure yet.

2. Humans collect shiny things and decorate their bodies and nests with them. The shinier the better, although each individual has a unique taste for style and colouring

3. Humans are not an aquatic or even amphibious species, but they flock to bodies of water simply to play in it. They can’t even hold their breath all that long; they just love to splash!

4. When night falls and the sky goes dark, humans become drowsy and begin to cocoon themselves in soft, fluffy bedding.

5. Some humans spend time in each other’s nests! Just for fun! It’s not their nest; they’re just visiting each other.

6. Some humans use pigments and dyes to make their bodies flashy and colourful! They even attach shiny dangly bits to their cartalidgous membranes!

7. Humans are very clever, and sometimes adopt creatures from other species into their family units. They don’t seem to notice the obvious differences, and often raise them alongside their own young!

8. If a human sees another creature in distress, they can commonly be observed trying to help! Even at their own risk, most humans are deeply compassionate creatures!

9. If a human hears a particularity catchy sound or tune, it will often mimic it, even to the point of annoying themselves!

10. Sneezes are entirely involuntary, and completely adorable. Especially when the human in question becomes frustrated

11. Humans love treats!!! Some more than others. Many humans will save these treats specifically for a later date when they are in need of comfort or reassurance. IE, pickles, pop tarts, Popsicles, etc

They’re supposed to be working on a typical coming-of-age story but after living with the Addams for just a week the project is becoming a horror-Gothic-romance

Fester and Pugsley find out one of the college students is trying to get into chemistry and woo boy, there has never been a faster study of how to counter various acidic chemical reactions due to “water” balloons in campus history. 

Morticia and Grammy are keeping the horticulturalists on their toes with their Black Tulip/Rose hybrids, which can flick their barbs a foot away from their stem system. But it’s fine, one of the kids has managed to breed Aloe with the anti venom. 

Lurch makes sandwiches for everyone who’s too much of a coward for Grammy’s cooking. Any music major will find him looming over them, utterly stone faced as they practise until they finish, when he’ll smile, and slowly applaud. 

And the spookiest thing of all

Wednesday and Thing will find your thesis. They will critique it in every way imaginable. 

There is no escape. 

Imagine Kitty acting as an emotion support therapy lion for students with anxiety or students who are really stressed about their upcoming exams, just curling up with them and purring REALLY loudly to sooth their nerves…like so ridiculous loudly that it almost acts as a massage. Most students grow out of their fear of Kitty after realizing that he’s just a giant, well, kitten who just so happens to be a literal lion.

Morticia and Gomez’s healthy relationship is a breath of fresh air for everybody coming from an especially broken home for whatever reason, and shows the students that it’s possible to still be madly and genuinely in love with someone so long as this relationship is based on trust and honesty and compassion. They like to listen to their flirtatious bickering and it’s a stark but very welcome difference as opposed to hearing shouting and arguing. They learn how to treat women and men with respect, true respect, and it’s also very cute to finally have the opportunity to jokingly say “uh, mom, dad, take it to your room!”

Gomez’s random hobbies like throwing knives or bouncing on a trampoline in the living room make living there always exciting and teaches students that your adventurous personality doesn’t have to age with your body. Swordplay becomes a norm in the library, as these wonderful accounts mentioned before, but also a bonding experience, and students start calling Gomez “Uncle Gomez” instead of “Mr. Addams” after the third or so round of fencing (without injury). He almost cries the first time it happens.

Morticia is as fiercely protective of the tenants as she is of her family, because at one point they DO become family. One of the tenants has an especially gropey and nasty asshole for a boyfriend who comes by to pick up her up for something she doesn’t want to do but can’t find a way out of? Morticia sees the girl’s flinch at the slightest move of her toxic boyfriend and immediately understands what’s happening, her eyes going cold as she gives the boy a mouthful and sends him off. Wednesday and Pugsley barely keep their guillotine in place, hearing the commotion from the kitchen. Kitty growls behind Morticia and the girl and that ensures that nobody ever bothers an honorary Addams again.

According to the 90s film, because of Thing, the family knows not only ASL but also Morse Code, so everybody in the household is more than equipped to accommodate tenants who are deaf or hard of hearing. It’s such a nice difference to speak with a whole family who is fluent in ASL as opposed to relying on writing down their conversations instead. It’s the most at home they’ve ever felt outside of their actual home.

On the topic of languages, the tenants learn at least four (4) languages just from living with this crazy family. French, Italian, Spanish, and ASL are a must to learn because the Addams’ never retell a story or have a conversation without switching languages for fun, to keep the students on their toes.

Not to mention the dark humor of the Addams family is exactly on the same spectrum as current Gen Z humor. Remember that one episode from the 60s sitcom when Gomez thinks that Morticia is in love with somebody else?

Gomez: I must do what any noble man would, I’m going to die so that she can marry who she truly loves…

Uncle Fester: You’re going to kill yourself?

Gomez: What? No, suicide is the coward’s man out. I’m going to make you shoot me.

This kind of blunt dark humor would make them super relatable and fun to Gen Z students and mesh with our ways of interacting with one another. One of the girls sees a really cute lady pass by and without thinking says “God, if she ran me over with her car I think I’d apologize and ask her to do it again?” Morticia would just chuckle from behind her knitting and be like “oh! What an idea! I really like you children’s way with one another. Gomez? Darling did you hear? Running people over is also a thing now. How marvelous.”

And the Addams family, including the other students in the household as well, go to every single graduation. There are at least ten different universities that are represented in the Addams house at once (they have the flags, all painted in black, hanging in the living room as if their tenants are their actual kids) and it takes Lurch at least three trips to transport everybody to the graduation of the day. They’d sit next to the blood family of the student, should they show up at the graduation, and cheer the loudest when their tenant’s name is called. It makes the newcomers excited for what’s to come, living with this family.

They’re supposed to be working on a typical coming-of-age story but after living with the Addams for just a week the project is becoming a horror-Gothic-romance

Fester and Pugsley find out one of the college students is trying to get into chemistry and woo boy, there has never been a faster study of how to counter various acidic chemical reactions due to “water” balloons in campus history. 

Morticia and Grammy are keeping the horticulturalists on their toes with their Black Tulip/Rose hybrids, which can flick their barbs a foot away from their stem system. But it’s fine, one of the kids has managed to breed Aloe with the anti venom. 

Lurch makes sandwiches for everyone who’s too much of a coward for Grammy’s cooking. Any music major will find him looming over them, utterly stone faced as they practise until they finish, when he’ll smile, and slowly applaud. 

And the spookiest thing of all

Wednesday and Thing will find your thesis. They will critique it in every way imaginable. 

There is no escape. 

By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.

You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.

The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.

And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.

But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.

Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.

You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.

The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.

You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.

It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.

Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.

When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.

BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!

You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…

When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.

And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.

Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.

It came for someone almost every night. 

Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight.  They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved.  Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again. 

What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror.  Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather.  It had fangs as long as his grasping digits.  Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity.  And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.

Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it. 

The earth natives called the monster a leopard.  

It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge.  Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster. 

But rumor was that there was worse on this planet.  Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.

The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent.  “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.”  Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.

“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.

The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.

Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’

“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”

Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.

The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.

“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.

“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”

The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.

“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.

“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.

Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.

“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”

Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.

They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.

Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.

“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”

“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”

The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.

In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.

But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.

The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)

“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling. 

“Is that a miniature tiger?”

“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”

The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them. 

“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”

The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”

“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”

“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”

“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”

The aliens eyed the weird looking animal the human was holding in its hands like it was a deadly weapon. So far this damn planet had been one huge death trap at every corner. How humans had managed to not only survive but even thrive in such a dangerous place was beyond logic.

“Dude it’s just a regular toad. Do you think I would be holding it if it was the poisonous one?”

The aliens immediately squirmed in unison at the mention of poison, but the human shrugged it off. By this point they were afraid of pretty much everything on Earth, so in order to keep them guessing and blur the lines which was safe and unsafe even more, some humans would handle some animals directly. 

Like in this case, where a confused toad miscalculated a jump and landed on top of one of the aliens, sending them all screaming like banshees. The human however just picked the poor animal up before they decided to blast it, before it had a chance to attack them again. 

“I swear, the worst it can do to you is just miss a jump and flop on you again before if runs away.”

Before anyone else could say or do anything, the toad inflated its vocal pouch in an attempt to do an intimidating croak and get the human to release it, since struggling wasn’t working.

Rather than be scared by this new feature the squad leader approached in fascination. “Wow, I didn’t know there were creatures here who possess a  hoinn glan….”

At that very exact moment the toad’s tongue flew out and hit the alien nearly in the eye. But the speed and sticky saliva were more than enough to make it scream so loud, it was like the alien had been hit with acid instead. The rest of the squad was soon to follow in the panic, thinking their leader had been the next victim of Earth’s cruel wildlife.

 When they heard that the human general had fallen ill to a disease of the organ known as the liver the troops began to hope that it might turn the tide of the war. Research indicated that such diseases could be fatal after all. The organ did something similar to the flagulaxin in that it filtered out toxins so when it stopped functioning the human would slowly be poisoned to death by his own body. Or so they believed.

But then he came back.

A foot soldier was captured and answers demanded. Was it a medication? Had the sickeness been a ruse to fool them?

“Nah, man. This kid on a motorcycle wiped out on the I9 freeway so they gave the general his liver since they were a match.”

“They…what?”

“They gave him his liver. The kid was dead, and he was an organ donor. And he was a genetic match to the general.”

“They…cut the liver out of one of your young and placed it in an elder and it…worked?”

“I mean, he wasn’t that young. Mid twenties or something. But yeah, that’s essentially it.”

So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather? 

With a flick of an inner tentacle, the N’tauri gambling master dropped a venomous crefcraw into the centre of the game table. The reaction was immediate.

Four fuzzy Limonstaars shrieked and dropped under the table to huddle in a mass of quivering fur. The three Kakrusch slammed on their face plates and rolled into the farthest corner like a particularly anxious avalanche. The Ighenou, the spider like creature whose species name translated into “Oh gods no get it off!” in a surprising number of languages, froze in the act of reaching for its pile of winnings and decided playing dead was the better part of valor. 

Three of the four humans glanced hesitantly at one another. Not recognizing one of the galaxies most feared and lethal beings, notorious for its bad temper and willingness to strike anything that came near it out of an all consuming rage, or because it was hungry, or bored, or it was Tuesday. They were silently debating the options of hiding with the Limonstaars (cuddly!) or behind the Kakrusch (a solid barrier) when the fourth human at the table knocked back her drink and set the empty glass upside down over the irate little hissing thing which immediately started slamming a stinger half the size of its body against the glass.

“Oi Igghie!” She reached out a long brown arm and slid a flimsy credit sheet from the bottom of the pile. “I’m gonna borrow ya creds.” Slipping the credit sheet under the glass she lifted the tiny prison and its increasingly angry inhabit and and strolled over to the violently trembling N’tauri. “So does this go back to you or should I just chuck it behind the bar for you?” She held out the glass expectantly. The N’tauri keened and slumped to the floor.

“Incinerate it!” growled one of the Kakrusch, a cacophony of agreement roared through the bar.

“Ah, where do I do that then?”

“Out the corridor, s-second door to the right.” One of the Limonstaars piped up, fluffy ears barely visible over the table.

“Cheers, back soon!”

One by one the other aliens crept back towards the table, picking up their cards and glaring at the gambling master. 

“They warned me about Terrans” the quivering mass of tentacle jelly wailed. “Whatever you’re thinking don’t try it on a Terran, those space australians will probably think its a proposition or a snack!”

One of the remaining humans reached out and patted the N’tauri approximately where its shoulder should be. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” He soothed, “I’m a Terran and I was terrified.”

“Well what the flying feschnark was she then?!” the N’tauri shrieked.

Human: Yeah basically?

Alien: And then the human keeps living and doing things anyways???

Human: Yup

‘so hey, that was a great funeral, cool outfits, always glad to learn more about your culture and stuff. So, when is she coming back?’

‘She- she’s not coming back’

‘Yeah, not as Megan, but when is her replacement coming back?’

‘We’re- not hiring anyone new for a couple weeks???’

‘no no no, you’re not getting what I’m saying- I want to ask her about that book she lent me- can I keep it for another week or two, or does her new version want it back?’

The humans stare at the alien and just. slowly start to figure out what the alien is saying. The alien shuffles nervously, their six spindly legs making a skritching noise that echoes in the cold chapel. Finally, the kindest of the humans takes the alien aside and-

‘hey. so. Us humans don’t come back when we die. Not like you do.’

‘what? No, but you clearly talk about reincarnation, and-’

‘Those are just stories, Six. When humans die, we’re gone. We don’t come back.’

The alien laughs ‘No, see, cuz that would mean that- that would mean. That Megan- Megan is-’ The alien cuts off the hissing noise that is their equivalent of a sob. ‘I have to go.’

The alien spends a week in their spaceship, the only place they can send communication to their Mother. When they come back, their carapace is a glistening new shade of red, and they’ve ended up as a different gender. When the lab adviser asks them how they are feeling about Megan-

‘Megan? Oh, yes, my previous version was very fond of Megan.’ The alien cocks their head, like a particularly thoughtful bird. ‘I suppose that I regret her loss. She was a valuable member of the team.’

The lab adviser lets this be- they are aliens after all. But later, when lab hours are done, the adviser notices Six double and triple-checking all the lab equipment, especially- well. The accident that took Megan will never happen again.  

I mean, who looked at an elephant, gigantic creature thoroughly capable of killing someone if it has to, and thought “I’m gonna ride on that thing!”?

And put a human near any canine predator and there’s a strong chance of said human yelling “PUPPY!” and initiating playful interaction with it.

And what about the people who look at whales, bigger than basically everything else, and decide “I’m gonna swim with our splashy danger friends!”

Heck, for all we know, humans might run into the scariest, toughest aliens out there and say “Heck with it. I’m gonna hug ‘em.”

“Why?!”

“I dunno. I gotta hug ‘em.”

“Yes, it’s the first time that I’ve worked with these species, but they come highly recommended. Say, you’ve worked with a few, what tips can you give me? I’d hate to have some kind of cultural misunderstanding if it’s avoidable.”

“The first rule of working with humans is never leave them unsupervised.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m serious. Don’t do it. Things. Happen.”

“But wait, I thought that I heard you highly recommended that every crew should have at least one on board?”

“Absolutely, and I stand by that. Humans are excellent innovators, and are psychologically very resilient. If you have a crisis, then a human that has bonded wth your crew properly can be invaluable. Treat your human well and you should get the best out of them as a crew member. Their ability to get on with almost any species is legendary.”

“But Toks, didn’t you just say…”

“The trouble is that they will potentially try to bond with anything. If you leave them unsupervised, you have no idea what kind of trouble they can get themselves into. It was sheer luck that the Fanzorians thought that it was funny that the human picked up the Crown Prince to coo at him.”

“Crown Prince Horram, Scourge of Pixia?”

“The very same. Surprisingly good sense of humour. But don’t even get me started on that one time with the Dunlip. Al-Human wanted to know if they could keep it. As a pet.”

“A Dunlip? You mean the 3 metre tall apex predators from Jowun?”

“Yup. Don’t leave your humans unsupervised.”

“Realizing the havoc their species created with their bonding needs, Earth has been kind enough to create an inter galactic ‘pet’ shop as they call it, the order forms are on the bridge.”

“If they get a pet this should prevent any knife welding auto-cleaners?”

“Yes…”

“You don’t sound very reassuring.”

“Well… You have to understand that some of what humans find attractive about their ‘pets’ is actually what makes them dangerous. Not all of what they consider ‘safe’ is what we would consider ‘safe’.”

“OK… I am getting a little nervous about this.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m just saying you should maybe keep an eye on what they order. Ask them to describe the creature before they get it. For example, the first time I had a human on board I let them order a pet without checking what it was.”

“What happened?”

Well, when it arrived it was a 25 pound fanged and clawed feline creature called a Savannah Cat. My entire crew was terrified of it, it was agile and could easily have seriously injured someone, but the human had no fear of it. They insisted on carrying it around like a child, and they would squeeze it’s ‘beans’ as they said, forcing the creatures claws out, and then they would show people it’s deadly claws while saying, and I quote, ‘look at its adorable claws, this is what it uses to kills things, isn’t it cute?’“

“Seriously?”

“I have also heard stories from other crews that their humans ordered canines that weigh as much or more then they do, and they sleep next to the giant creature.”

So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather? 

Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”

Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”

Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.” 

Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”

Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”

Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”

Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.” 

“Yup, with blizzards you cant see through every other day just about.”

“Amazing! when did you manage to send drones that could survive such temperatures?”

“… well, actually…”

“… what?”

“…we kinda……. sent……….. people…..”

“…”

“…”

“…what?”

“we sent-”

“no yeah I heard you I just- what? You sent… HUMANS… to a place one hundred degrees below freezing?”

“y-yeah”

“and they didn’t… die?”

“Well the first few did”

“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE?”

aka The History of Russia

aka Arctic Exploration

1. Learning to recognize all forms of animal tracks in the wild so you can avoid bears and moose and search out rabbits and other small animals to eat.

2. Extensive swimming and climbing on glacial pieces with competitions to see who could last the longest, followed by a group sit in the sauna so we wouldn’t get hypothermia (no, not kidding, I really did this many times as a kid!)

3. How to navigate using the stars to get back to civilization.

4. How to select the right type of moss from the trees to start a fire with damp wood (because, y’know, you’re in a field of snow. Nothing is dry.)

It only takes one try before the reality of the situation sets in: human definitions of ‘taming’ and ‘habitable’ are woefully incomplete.

“Why did you not eliminate the venomous plant life?” Grahssk’ti moans, clutching one limb.

“Those?” The human laughs. “Why bother? They’re not that bad. And they eat the mosquitoes.”

Grahssk’ti shudders. The ‘mosquitoes’ are… not to be mentioned. Just one swarm of them caused a landing shuttle to crash three planetary daylights ago.

“And the acid storms? Why did you not warn us of them?”

“I mean, they’re annoying,” the human says, shrugging, “but we figured the cool sunsets made up for it.”

Grahssk’ti flails helplessly. “What about the ten-meter tall Fanged Death Bringers? They can eliminate an entire settlement in under an hour!”

So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather? 

Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”

Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”

Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.” 

Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”

Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”

Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”

Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.” 

“Yup, with blizzards you cant see through every other day just about.”

“Amazing! when did you manage to send drones that could survive such temperatures?”

“… well, actually…”

“… what?”

“…we kinda……. sent……….. people…..”

“…”

“…”

“…what?”

“we sent-”

“no yeah I heard you I just- what? You sent… HUMANS… to a place one hundred degrees below freezing?”

“y-yeah”

“and they didn’t… die?”

“Well the first few did”

“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE?”

aka The History of Russia

aka Arctic Exploration

1. Learning to recognize all forms of animal tracks in the wild so you can avoid bears and moose and search out rabbits and other small animals to eat.

2. Extensive swimming and climbing on glacial pieces with competitions to see who could last the longest, followed by a group sit in the sauna so we wouldn’t get hypothermia (no, not kidding, I really did this many times as a kid!)

3. How to navigate using the stars to get back to civilization.

4. How to select the right type of moss from the trees to start a fire with damp wood (because, y’know, you’re in a field of snow. Nothing is dry.)

Like, an alien invasion is about to start and the book is a chronicle of how the aliens couldn’t handle both humans in general and the range of environments and ended up being destroyed through the eyes of one of the aliens.

Like a caption from the book would be something like

“So we sent a recon team to this place called Russia, but all we’ve heard back thus far is about the temperatures, giant monsters with fur the humans call “Bears”, and that once again, we have been reminded of how heavily well armed almost ever human settlement is.

Thus far we have lost more than a good chunk of our forces through experiments gone wrong, unsuccessful fire fights, and above all else, the humans seem to be more worried about these strange variation of their species calling themselves “Clowns”.

I don’t know what a Clown is, but sounds as if it is the dominant faction of this planet, and considering we only just found out humans practically poison themselves with this thing called beer and only get stronger and more violent, I don’t ever want to encounter such a being.

“Human Colony SDO435**, this is Gxanimi survey vessel 3489. We regret that we must inform you that the wreckage of your ship ‘Gecko Flyer’ has just been detected on planet F56=K=. We offer expressions of sympathy for this catastrophe.”

“Shit, thanks for telling us, we’ll be right there.”

“Why?”

“To find our people, of course.”

“… you wish to retrieve the corpses for your traditional death rituals, of course, we understand. We have sent the coordinates.”

“What do you mean, bodies? No survivors at all? There must be some.”

“Official mouthpiece of Human Colony SDO435**, the ship has crashed. It has impacted the planet’s surface at speed. Moreover, this might have happened as much as five vek ago. We do not understand why you speak of ‘survivors’.”

“Oh, there’ll be survivors. There always are.”

“(closes hyperspace voicelink) How sad that they are unable to accept the reality of their loss.”

*

“Hey, Gxanimi survey vessel 3489, thanks for letting us know about the Gecko Flyer. More than half the crew made it!”

“Made what?”

“They survived! A couple of lost limbs and so on, but they’ll be fine.”

“… but that vessel was destroyed! Images have been examined!”

“Oh, well, everyone in the fore-below compartment was crushed, obviously, but the others made it out.”

“… but the crash was vek ago! Excuse we… at least eighty of your ‘days’! How could they survive without a ship? Without shelter and supplies?”

“Well, the wreckage gave them some shelter, and of course the emergency supplies kept them going until they could start growing stuff. It’s actually a nice little planet, they said. Quite a lot of edible flora and fauna. T-shirt weather, in summer, too.”

“What is… t-shirt weather?”

“Oh, you know, when it’s comfortable to go around with only modesty covering over the epidermis. Exposed limbs.”

“That planet is so cold that even water solidifies in its atmosphere!”

“Well, in winter, obviously. But we like that. Listen, our people have been raising crops down there, and that’s usually how we rule a planet as ‘colonized’…. is anyone else using it, or can we call it?”

“Er… we have claimed the warmer planets in the system, but we believe we could come to some arrangement.”

*

It was really nice, the humans thought, how carefully most of the aliens kept an eye out for downed ships after that, once they found out that humans tended to survive anything less than explosive decompression or… well, explosions generally. They’d immediately inform the nearest outpost of a wreck’s location, or even ship survivors back themselves. It was very thoughtful.

They didn’t find out until a long time later that the Gxanimi had put out the word to every species they were in contact with. It was vital that everyone knew the things they had learned about humans after that first encounter.

1. Humans can literally walk away from an impact that renders a space-worthy hull so much scrap and would have actually liquefied a Gxanimi.

2. Humans will eat just about anything not immediately fatal to them - including, in extremis, the corpses of their dead crewmates. In fact, most human vessels keep a list of those willing to be eaten and those whose socio-religious scruples forbid it. They have a ridiculously high tolerance for dangerous substances, and if they can breathe on a planet they can probably eat something on it too. They also have something they call the ‘Watney Protocol’, which requires them to carry live soil samples, seeds, and simple tools that will allow them to start farming their own native foodstuffs on any remotely habitable planet immediately in the event of an accident.

3. Once they’ve farmed a planet, they bond with it. They’ll be polite, but it’ll take significant effort to get rid of them even so.

Conclusion: If a human ship crashes on a planet you like and want to keep, get other humans to come and get them immediately. Remove them yourself if you have to. Even the worst crash can result in a thriving colony in a few vek.

They’re supposed to be working on a typical coming-of-age story but after living with the Addams for just a week the project is becoming a horror-Gothic-romance

Fester and Pugsley find out one of the college students is trying to get into chemistry and woo boy, there has never been a faster study of how to counter various acidic chemical reactions due to “water” balloons in campus history. 

Morticia and Grammy are keeping the horticulturalists on their toes with their Black Tulip/Rose hybrids, which can flick their barbs a foot away from their stem system. But it’s fine, one of the kids has managed to breed Aloe with the anti venom. 

Lurch makes sandwiches for everyone who’s too much of a coward for Grammy’s cooking. Any music major will find him looming over them, utterly stone faced as they practise until they finish, when he’ll smile, and slowly applaud. 

And the spookiest thing of all

Wednesday and Thing will find your thesis. They will critique it in every way imaginable. 

There is no escape. 

that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything

I’m just going to say this to strangers until i find a tumblr person

Unpopular Ship?

Unknown ship:

Trying to get other people to ship your ship:

Ship remains non-canon?

Ship remains non-canon part 2:

You ALMOST Ship something:

Someone ships something you don’t ship?

Someone insults your ship:

Ship becomes canon: