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From Little Rabbit, VI.

Getting domestic with Guy for a day wasn't entirely unprecedented; they'd been sleeping together long enough — since the start of summer, and very regularly since, so a little over three months (kinda, technically, relatively) — that there had definitely been days where they spent a few hours, or even a whole night, kind of masquerading as a couple. At least from the outside. That was how Booster knew the day manager (and the night manager, and most of the bartenders) on sight, and that was how Guy knew exactly how Booster liked his cheeseburgers and that he couldn't resist a bar pickle from the huge jar at the end of the bar (the likes of which could not possibly get more kosher dill, given where Guy sourced them from).

They even had sides of the bed, despite the fact that Booster hadn't actually stayed over too often.

But even if it wasn't unprecedented, this was a whole different level of it: Rani, sitting between them on the couch shoveling popcorn, occasionally asking them to explain some part of the game, and Guy and Booster watching the ALDS on TBS, since they both didn't think going to Detroit was worth it in order to see it live, sipping tea instead of beer in deference to head injuries and minors.

Whatever mental health or lack thereof, both men kept jumping off the couch when the Yankees scored, punching the air and otherwise getting caught up in it, and by the time they were in the top of the 8th and the Yankees were killing it in RBIs, Rani had already worked out all the rules and was joining in, turning the couch into a trampoline and forcing Guy to suspend the popcorn with his ring so it wouldn't turn into a buttery kind of confetti.

She was wearing a Warriors t-shirt for a nightgown and Guy had shown her the room she'd be sleeping in; she'd looked a little reluctant, but then Guy had given her the glowing flower-thing she'd been coveting and that had made her a lot more amenable to the idea. And then Guy had stuck about fifteen pictures of unicorns and — oh god — colorful bar-looking drinks on his fridge, though obviously not before he and Rani clued Booster in to what they'd been doing while he had his almost four hour nap.

"You didn't," Booster had said, upon viewing the first one, staring at Guy aghast. "Guy, tell me you didn't teach my kid how to tend a bar."

"I'm gonna get her her own apron. Kid's got some mad mocktail skills," Guy had said back, with a broad smirk, man-spreading on the couch and not breaking eye contact with Booster to ask, "Ain't that right, munchkin?"

"Rae-Rae said I'm not allowed to touch the good stuff 'til I'm twenty-one, but then I can learn how to and I can make loads of scratch," Rani had replied, not looking up from the coffee table, happily rendering something she'd probably mixed herself that looked positively toxic in color.

Booster rubbed his face, then watched her color for a long moment, running that statement on rewind in his head about, oh, ten times as he boggled at it. Then he had to ask, "Did people actually drink them…?"

"And they helped me name them, too!" Rani said, proudly, nodding.

Guy nodded along in almost perfect unison and it was right about there that Booster realized introducing them might have been a Mistake™.

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Trump supporters are rapist: Part 3.

Link to Fuentes saying shit like "rape isn't real."

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Good job, baby boy.

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Not being able to sleep sucks.

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Friendly reminder to all who consume fan made media: if you reblog gifs, gif makers will keep making them. If you reblog fanart, artists will keep drawing. If you leave comments on fanfics, writers will keep writing. As many have pointed out, we’re not Instagram and likes mean nothing :)

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what a pissbaby coward

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I honestly feel like the proliferation of LED headlights was the canary in the coalmine for the general attitude we see in the political climate these days and i'm not even remotely kidding

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In the age of automation and artificial intelligences, I suspect people would rather change 1 & 2 to a universal basic income and a 20 hour work week, but it certainly is a start.

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Justice League International by Marcio Takara

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Attn: conservative men

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Please fucking lie to your employer. Like they don’t need to know your mental health issues or what drugs you do. Ffs

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The Climate Change Superfund Act makes major fossil fuel companies financially liable for damage due to extreme weather events and other dangers related to climate change. The amount these companies are responsible for paying depends on their contributions to emissions since 1995.

Money collected from fossil fuel companies will be used to mitigate the health impacts of climate change and improve public infrastructure.

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