#what a normal person would do: go to bed

[hanzajesthanza]

the headcanon that regis can hang from the ceiling to sleep or rest like a bat is funny on its own, but when i consider geralt and others in the hanza holding conversations with him like this, it’s made better by my understanding of this as just an advanced “neurodivergent sitting” technique

[microwave-core]

Two for two on Leon posts written in the middle of the night where I promptly flop back into bed. I just think Leon has a lot of ship potential. I don't even ship characters much, I don't really ship Leon with anyone in particular, but he's got good matchs.

Like. You have Sonia. Classic setup of childhood friends who drifted apart from one another and reconnect years afterwards and find there is definitely some spark between them. (I also wholly believe that the two "dated" when they were kids, but because they were kids they didn't understand romance and just forgot about it entirely. Didn't even hold hands because ew cooties.)

And you also have Raihan. And it's like... they're rivals, what more should I say. It's not even a "bro you're making our esteemed rivalry look gay" situation, they can just so easily mesh as rivals AND bfs with minimal bending of canon.

Those are obviously the most popular two (unless I'm really out of the loop), but then you have the smaller ships that you don't see as much that still just work. Like, I don't see much of Leon and Piers together, but they work. Perfect human sunshine and brooding vampire combo. I can't think of the actual phrase to use but I think that gets the point across.

You could pin him up with Kabu, sure, Leon can get down with the foxy grandpa. Fuck it, you could put him with, like, Meloney, and it would be fine. He deserves to be with a milf, as a little treat. You could ship him with fucking Wes from Pokemon Colleseum for the Nintendo Gamecube and it would seem understandable. He would do that, your honor, keep scrolling.

idk i'm tired night

[agayconcept]

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[caffeinatedopossum]

Starting to wonder if I have bipolar but then I would literally have almost every mental illness. Like fr I'm not kidding you, I'm a collector and I never chose this

[trans-leek-cookie]

as a certified Aromantic Asexual (I should make myself a certificate) I genuinely don't Believe there is systemic oppression that specifically targets Aromantic or Asexual people.

I do however believe that people Cannot be normal about ppl who don't have sex or romantic relationships, and that can Really Impact Aromantic And Asexual People.

Also like. Aros n aces are still. Experiences Other forms of oppression that can interact with the aro and/or ace-ness

[running-in-the-dark]

tbh I think finding a program that automatically exports all frames from a video sequence was really not good for me. I don't need this! I don't need it! I already take too many screenshots!

[hella1975]

happy eurovison!! do your stretches!!!

babe it's been days since i did my stretches at this point im too scared

[widevibratobitch]

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[brother-emperors]

... please share some bernardino lonati info crumbs with us? Please 🥺 ascanio too if you want to

(PS. your art is so beautiful aaa💗)

YES (also thank you! 💗) oh my god okay so

They were!!! friends!!

Bernardino Lonati was from Pavia, and Ascanio spent a lot of time in Pavia in the earlier parts of his life and was also the apostolic administrator of Pavia, so it's very likely they knew each other as teenagers (Ascanio refers to Bernardino as his "cardinal from home")

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

and they were only a couple of years apart in age (Lonati was born in 1452, Ascanio was 1455)

Lonati was one of the cardinals that Ascanio had "made," (Sanseverino is another). Before that, though, he was Ascanio's secretary!

Popes, Cardinals and War, D.S. Chambers

in 1497, Ascanio fell seriously ill, like a lot of Rome thought he had died despite being alive because of how bad his condition was. Lonati was someone Ludovico Sforza got in contact with to try to navigate the situation, and Lonati and Sanseverino were part of a group that banded together to prevent Rodrigo Borgia (Pope Alexander VI) from seizing Ascanio's assets in the event of his death.

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

Every time Ascanio would go against the Vatican for one reason or another/in conflict with the pope (the reason is that Ascanio's loyalty went to Milan first and always), Lonati was one of the cardinals that always sided with him :)

So when Lonati fell ill and it was clear things weren't going to get better

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

Ascanio rushed to be with him in his final hours and was so grief stricken over it that he had to be physically pulled away from Lonati's bedside because they were concerned that Ascanio would become ill as well (this was later in 1497). After Lonati died, Ascanio took care of the finances: Lonati wanted to pass the beneficiaries on to family members, but could not do this without Ascanio signing off on it since Ascanio was the apostolic administrator of Pavia.

Asanio did him one better: He wrote to his brother, knowing that he could ensure Lonati's last wishes, and had the income from S. Savino and a third of the income from S. Antonio go to the son, and the minor benefits go to the nephew, and the remaining 2/3rds of the income Ascanio had donated to charitable works in honor of Lonati's soul.

and he was in charge of the funeral arrangements and monument :')

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

Lonati was buried in Santa Maria del Popolo, a church associated with Ascanio, and later Giuliano della Rovere (Pope Julius II) would have a tomb commissioned for Ascanio there too, which I feel so so so normal about.

Also, Lonati was considered a "poor cardinal" while he was alive, Ascanio was the driving force behind getting Lonati additional incomes.

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

and for some Ascanio trivia: he was gambled (literally) with Rodrigo Borgia on occasion, and was apparently an amateur musician on top of the Everything Else He Did 🎵

A Companion to Late Medieval and Early Modern Milan, edited by Andrea Gamberini

[lesenbyan]

also kinda wanna change my name again but idk what to

[bitegore]

my dad really seems to think that i am twenty fucking years old and somehow too stupid to know that it's subpar to stay up all night instead of sleeping. like sir i fucking know, you don't have to go "bad idea, bad idea" if i woke up at 7pm and literally couldnt go to sleep at 10pm because id been awake for three hours

[moonjade]

This might sound odd but does anyone else need to have things go in a certain way before they can do something? I’ll give an example since idk how to word it better. Before I go to sleep at night, I have to watch the same YouTube video at the same time stamps (I start watching in the middle of the video, around the 10:30 timestamp, then from the beginning of the video), then I have to lay on my left side for a few minutes, and then I can finally go to sleep (on my right side). I can’t sleep otherwise. I also have to have a fan going because I can’t sleep without it. But it has to be a certain sound and frequency. Is this normal or 😅

[starpros-sunshine]

I exist in this weird personality limbo where i somehow have so little sense of an individual self that that over time warped into. whatever this is. I have something going on here i'm sure but I am 99% sure that it's either indescribable or just very difficult to define beyond "Nice with an interesting sense of humour"

[neverendingford]

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[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[running-in-the-dark]

my gallbladder surgery is in like 6 hours (that's when I need to be at the hospital anyway, it might take a long time until it's actually my turn) and I'm pretty anxious now 😔 I know it's very likely that everything will go well and I'm trying not to think about everything that could go wrong.

at least I can stop myself from thinking about that kind of thing now - before the anxiety meds I'd probably have been unable to sleep for the last week, and I'd have thought about it all day every day, and I'd have been legitimately panicking for days. now the unpleasant thoughts happen, I tell myself 'it's going to be fine and if it isn't we can't change it anyway' and move on.