#and now...i sleep!

[mearchy]

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

[overcaffeinated-aro]

ok not to be that guy but like. labor rights and working class rights can coexist with 24h services and late amenities. its certainly hard to do so without worker exploitation in this political and social environment, it’s not a conflict likely to resolve overnight. but 24h services are important and especially valuable to those of us that are disabled or are on a different circadian rhythm. in fact more professional, health, and government services should be available or at least possible to work on asynchronously (if applicable) during late or odd hours, while workers also get sufficient pay for their labor and proper consistent scheduling. this would be much easier on the workers with night schedules if the entire professional world didn’t grind to a halt at 5pmEST

[windwenn]

‘You were my new dream’ or however the fuck that scene went

[napping-sapphic]

take your clothes off and get on the bed what no we aren’t having sex right now we’re cuddling and pressing every inch of skin together as close as possible for the next six hours

[lesbian-disaster-academic]

i used to be so good at writing strong, thoroughly-researched, thoroughly-edited essays.

as a kid in hs, my teacher literally came up to me, holding my 40 page essay on the intersection of the European witch hunts and capitalism/exploitation/gender roles (it was supposed to be 7 pages...whoops) and went like "this is literally a master's-degree level thesis. what are you doing?? you could literally use this as your final dissertation in a master's program, what the fuck."

NOW??? NOW?? you'd think I'd be oh so skilled. but alas. i can barely piece together two ideas. adhd skill-regression is so so real. im SOBBING

[razzafrazzle]

whenever i see people draw garfield as a catgirl they always make him feminine and young. you dont understand him like i do. anyways theyre both transbians to me

[image description: a drawing of garfield and arlene from the garfield comics depicted as catgirls. garfield is depicted as a fat, light-skinned, hairy woman with short orange mullet hair, freckles, a white tank top, orange shorts, and orange sneakers, and arlene is depicted as a tall, dark-skinned woman with short curly pink hair, red lipstick, a red dress, sheer tights, and pink pumps. arlene is sitting on a countertop and looking down at garfield, who is sitting in a chair with his legs spread, picking at his teeth and smiling. the drawing is made to look as though it were a real garfield comic panel. end id]

[clumsypuppy]

made this while watching ep 1 of dunmeshi

[mroddmod]

they are like puppies. 2 me

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.

[pancakemolybdenum]

@personajojo1 this is for you. baby need smoko

[jkvjimin]

PARK JIMIN??? JEON JUNGKOOK???? HELLO?????????

[wordwings]

*kicks down your door* It might seem like a plot hole that no one thought about the possibility of Dracula being invited into the asylum by Renfield (or any other patient) but actually it speaks to the way Renfield’s personhood is being denied mainly by Jack Seward, but also the rest of the crew in part through their reliance on Seward’s expertise. Which also ties into the way they have decided to shut out Mina at the very same time. It literally just did not occur to them that the patients living in the same building as them would have any claim to the residency that allows someone to grant the permission a vampire needs to enter a home. But of course the asylum is the patients’ home just as much as it is Jack’s! They live there! In short this fatal blow dealt to the heroes at this crucial juncture comes about through both their sexism and their ableism. Good night. *puts your door back on its hinges again and leaves*

[brian-kinney-apologist]

how I slept last night knowing that s3 of iwtv is secured, rockstar lestat is happening, akasha is on her way, loustat are endgame, ghost!claudia is a possibility, sam reid is not allowed to cut his hair short for a couple more years, daniel is now a vampire and the devil's minion is real:

[sadagios]

they call me icarus, because i would burn my wings for you.

[et-in-arkadia]

* * *

Mission mode change detected, now in Monument Mode Goodnight friends. After exchanging our final bits of data,

I will hold vigil on this spot in Mare Crisium to watch humanity's continued journey to the stars.

Here, I will outlast your mightiest rivers, your tallest mountains, and perhaps even your species as we know it.

But it is remarkable that a species might be outlasted by its own ingenuity.

Here lies Blue Ghost, a testament to the team who, with the loving support of their families and friends, built and operated this machine and its payloads,

to push the capabilities and knowledge of humanity one small step further.

Per aspera ad astra!

Love, Blue Ghost

* * *

no you are actively crying over a dying robot on the moon i am doing just fine thanks

[ohimsummer]

“four days?”

satoru pauses mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows. “uh–, hm?”

you can feel the irritation building in your body. “you haven’t slept in four days?”

suguru continues washing dishes as he silently observes the interaction. he knows better than to get involved when he hears that tone.

your other boyfriend clears his throat, shuffling back and forth on his feet. whatever story he was telling has been completely forgotten about.

“satoru, you’re about to piss me off.“

“baby!”, he whines, drawing closer to put his hands on your waist. you don’t return his touch, opting to keep your arms crossed over your chest. “baby, the higher ups needed me for these missions.”

“i don’t give a d–,” you pause, narrow your eyes at him, and sigh. “i don’t care.”

satoru gives you a puppy-eyed pout, glancing at suguru for help. help he unfortunately won’t be receiving.

“it’s fine.” satoru tries to calm your anger. he gently squeezes your hips, resting his forehead against yours. he can tell it isn’t doing a thing.

“i only have a few more days of missions.” your face twists into something wicked. satoru would’ve kept this from you, but he knows if you found out afterwards, his life would probably be on the line.

“you’re not going.”, you snap. “tell them you’re using time off. matter of fact, go upstairs and get ready for bed. i’ll tell them myself.”

“babyyyy.”, satoru whines again at you. “you know I don’t like you talking to the higher ups–“

“you know i don’t like you abusing yourself for their sake. now you’re on a sex ban. get upstairs, now.”

he sputters. “wha–?! a sex ban?”

“that’s what i said.”

the glare you give him lets satoru know you’re not joking in the slightest. he shares another glance with suguru, but your tone seeps of finality. he’s fucked up, royally. no pouts, pleads, or puppy-dog eyes will get him out of this one.

he utters a final, dejected ‘yes ma’am’ and carries himself off to bed.

with satoru taken care of, you raise a brow at your other partner who has remained silent throughout this entire ordeal.

“when’s the last time you slept?”

suguru has nothing to worry about. even with his sporadic insomnia, he was able to get at least 6 hours of sleep a night in between his own missions. so, he doesn’t know why he’s sweating so hard.

“yesterday.”, he answers with a timid, placating smile. “i slept almost all night.”

you study him for a couple seconds. it feels like hours to suguru. he withers under your contemplative stare, wondering if he sounded convincing enough for your liking.

“mhm.”, you hum at him, and suguru stops holding his breath. “done with the dishes?”

“i have a few more.”

“i’ll do those. you go upstairs, too.”

suguru can’t tell whether or not you believe him, but he also doesn’t want to argue with you. he slinks off feeling like he’s also been scolded, murmuring his own ‘yes, ma’am’ as he passes by.