Huh,..Really?

I wish I was some sort of time lord so that I could take a 3 hour nap and only have slept for 5...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 11:27:29 -0500

I wish I was some sort of time lord so that I could take a 3 hour nap and only have slept for 5 minutes. This would greatly ease my frustrations.

snowden-is-dead: whitecourtkellyrhea: Our local animal rehab center just posted pics of this owl...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 04:02:33 -0500

snowden-is-dead:

whitecourtkellyrhea:

Our local animal rehab center just posted pics of this owl who got rescued

And I really can’t with him

oh my god

What even

They tried to make me go to rehab

I said no, no, no

Champion of Procrastination: mostlyharmsless: artifanatik: What the heck i wrong with you tumblr...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 04:01:43 -0500

Champion of Procrastination: mostlyharmsless: artifanatik: What the heck i wrong with you tumblr...:

mostlyharmsless:

artifanatik:

What the heck i wrong with you tumblr people?! All I read about is HG and Myka! They are not lesbians! They are just really close friends! If you go anywhere else besides tumblr people ship pete and myka like normal people. So what the frick is wrong…

10knotes: candyleaves: don’t hurt ‘em I hope they used tape to...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 03:54:39 -0500

10knotes:

candyleaves:

don’t hurt ‘em

I hope they used tape to put up that sign then…

themysteryvanishing: It’s something they don’t tell you before...

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 03:40:43 -0500

themysteryvanishing:

It’s something they don’t tell you before you’re admitted to the hospital, something that, despite being an invariable and necessary part of life, patients and doctors alike easily forget to mention because the former are either overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of leaving or they’re deceased and aren’t quite capable of speaking, and the latter forget because they’re either relieved at saving a human being without too much incident or they’re putting the whole matter behind them because this is their job, and it is, quite simply, a part of life.

But what nobody tells you is, the hospital is no place for sleep.

Hospital visitors, laden with balloons and teddy bears and flowers, laugh and tease their bedridden loved ones with terms like lazybones and couch-potato because, though they’ll deny it if anyone asks, there’s usually a twinge of jealousy of what a luxury it must be, to be forced to stay in bed. But then they frown as a nurse pushes past them for vitals check, and from the second their eyes catch the glint of fluorescent light off the needle, they remind themselves, better that guy than me.

But they don’t realize that the person confined to that bed is well and truly confined, with no chance of relief.

The air conditioning, in these big hospitals, is loud, thunderous, as it beats along a network of vents as complicated as the human vascular system. Every machine has its own chorus of beeps, chirps, screams, and wails. The track lighting overhead, whose garish light almost always makes the room’s occupant appear to be at least three sheets further into the wind than doctors would have many believe, buzzes and hums at uneven intervals. The IV drip, which snakes up every patient’s arm, leg, or chest, is usually silent, save for the occasional alarm from the pump itself, as it demands a new bag of whatever shade of fluid the doctor prescribes.

If the fluid is saline, she knows now that she’ll be up peeing all night. If the fluid is blood, then she’ll be watched over constantly while someone monitors the successful transfusion; the doctor doesn’t even bother with iron pills because she vomits them back up, whole, in minutes. If the fluid is dark yellow, it’s the cisplatin, and she knows her joints will be aching for the next few days; not the ache she used to feel after a long run—oh, how she missed that—but a pain that she can only describe as the bones themselves crunching against each other. She knows now that she’ll be nauseous, too, and will probably spend the evening sitting in one corner on the cold tile of the bathroom, so she can reach the toilet quickly, because she knows she’ll be too dizzy to safely cross from her bed to the bathroom and still make it in time. Her stomach will churn in furious attempts to expel all the nothingness. Her eyes will burn, open or closed. She’ll bruise from sitting in one position for too long. Her nose will bleed if she retches too hard. And she will continue to be exhausted, no matter how many blood transfusions they give her.

What nobody tells you is, sleep is a luxury.

So when Helena takes a seat beside the bed, silent, heart pounding furiously in her chest, taking a moment to glare at the IV bag of dark yellow fluid, and sees Myka—impossibly pale, with fewer curls than the last time they saw each other—with her eyes closed, Helena says nothing. Because sleep is what Myka needs most right now, what she has always needed but was always willing to forgo in the name of her job, in the name of her warehouse family, in the name of whoever needed her. And Helena needed her. Oh, how she needed her.

But, more importantly, she needed Myka to be alive. So if the doctor said Myka needed sleep, then Helena would be her silent sentinel, and Myka would sleep for as long as her body would allow her.

And Helena vowed, from now on, that this, the space by Myka’s side, was right where she belonged.

Photo

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 03:35:45 -0500

Period: You want cookies

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 03:29:19 -0500

Period: You want cookies
Period: You want to fuck
Period: You want to fuck while eating cookies.
Period: Let's be sad about trivial things, shall we?
Period: Kill them.
Period: Kill them too.
Period: Kill them and eat their cookies.
Period: Shhhh it's okay you'll feel better soon.
Period: HAHAHAHAHA NO YOU WON'T FUCK YOU.
Period: Whoops you dropped a spoon better cry

fuckyeahmauraandjane: Alice is SO me…oh my God. xDD

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 19:20:44 -0500

fuckyeahmauraandjane:

Alice is SO me…oh my God. xDD

winged-mammal: Before I slip under your sheetsCan you give me...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 19:19:12 -0500

winged-mammal:

Before I slip under your sheets
Can you give me something, please?
I can’t keeping touching you like this
If its just temporary bliss (x)

#this gifset made me ask some very deep #philisophical questions #like #do those two know that they have porn twins? #should one be notified that they have a porn twin #Im conflicted #because if I had a porn twin #im not sure that I’d want to know #but at the same time it would make it less awkward if someone walked up to you on the street #smiling all creepy like #I KNOW WHAT PORN YOU DID LAST SUMMER

Digital Wonderments: AGAIN,

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:19:33 -0500

Digital Wonderments: AGAIN,:

anamatics:

ahahaha not trigger warning any posts about cancer

THAT IS NOT WHAT A TRIGGER WARNING MEANS.

—-

from last month:

Really, we need a trigger warning for cancer now?

Uh.

That cheapens the meaning of the word “trigger” - which doesn’t mean makes you sad/uncomfortable, it means…

tan-the-man: Daily affirmations

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:17:46 -0500

tan-the-man:

Daily affirmations

ressick: Myka…? Myka, did you hear what I said? In the moment...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:15:40 -0500

ressick:

Myka…? Myka, did you hear what I said?

In the moment when her doctor’s words blur in her mind, Myka Bering says goodbye to one of the last hopes she’s held on to for the past year. That little girl with straight dark hair, the one with green eyes that she sometimes sees in her dreams. The one that takes fencing and kenpo classes, the one who lives in the B&B and knows the wonders of the Warehouse. She says goodbye to that little girl and yet another part of her heart breaks off, crumbling to dust.

She knows that she’s been sick. She knows she shouldn’t have ignored it for so long. But she’s just been so very tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of taking the noble route when she had wanted to beg, or plead, or demand that Helena wake up and realize that the suburbs are no place for H.G. Wells. No place for one of the greatest minds in history. No place for Helena to use as an escape from the very real fear of loving another human being. Instead she had given Helena the time, and freedom, to come to that realization on her own. And now time was against them, once more.

But now, in the exam room, back in real clothes after the indignity of that hideous paper gown, now, faced with her own mortality and the long road to only the possibility of recovery before her, all Myka Bering can think of is that little girl she’ll never get to meet now. Oh, she knows the options. Cryo storage of either eggs or embryos. But those methods aren’t perfect, and if she needs to have a hysterectomy? Well. Can’t incubate a baby without one. And so she says goodbye to that little girl. Says goodbye to the little girl who in her dreams likes to pretend she’s an investigator, like her mothers.

As her doctor starts to drone on about treatment options, Myka Bering says goodbye to Detective Bering-Wells. And a part of her is unsure if she really wants to go on without that bright future she dreams about ahead of her. Helena is gone. And now so is that dream-daughter they would have been so happy to love. But Myka is more than the sum of her dreams and wants. She’ll fight to live. She just isn’t sure why anymore.

charliethecag: amariiex-04: Omfg lol this is perfect. Is it...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:13:06 -0500

charliethecag:

amariiex-04:

Omfg lol this is perfect.

Is it sad I can say those lines with the absolute perfect inflections?

Dear every manufacturer of women's clothing, ever:

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 23:12:48 -0500

my-girl-binx:

bythehammerofthor94:

deadjohn:

bassoonerthebetter:

lord-kitschener:

gothiccharmschool:

Faux pockets are an abomination. If you’re going to bother putting pocket flaps on something, add the G-d damn pockets.

No love,

Jilli

And make the pockets deeper, you soulless bastards.

You know what’s attractive?

Not this:

EVERYONE REBLOG THIS

On average, men’s pants have about 6 inch deep pockets.

IT’S 2013 AND WE STILL DON’T HAVE PANTS POCKETS EQUALITY

PANTS POCKETS EQUALITY!!!

whiteknightswan: this video it’s so fucking fascinating!...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 22:49:08 -0500

whiteknightswan:

this video it’s so fucking fascinating! ughhh

When do we get fix it fic?

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 22:38:36 -0500

When do we get fix it fic?

iamsupremecommanderofthisvessel: neraiutsuze: #Jack Sparrow:...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 22:13:54 -0500

iamsupremecommanderofthisvessel:

neraiutsuze:

#Jack Sparrow: Accepting You for Whatever Gender You Decide to Be Since 2003

#There should be a Captain in that tag somewhere

#Jack Sparrow: Captaining You for Whatever Captain You Captain to Captain since Captain

Close enough

Something happened to the ottoman that my feet are on and it’s automatically my fault…....

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 20:35:50 -0500

Something happened to the ottoman that my feet are on and it’s automatically my fault…. even though my feet can’t even reach the spot that was affected.

kjdawson80: Yep.

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 19:47:14 -0500

kjdawson80:

Yep.

autostraddle: Team Pick: “The Gender Book” Is The Best Thing...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 19:15:04 -0500

autostraddle:

Team Pick: “The Gender Book” Is The Best Thing You Will Read Online Today

Cara’s Team Pick:
Have you ever wished that you could be led through the thicket that is gender by…

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