This Is Also The Only Correct Way To Greet Me If You Are A Mutual.

This is also the only correct way to greet me if you are a mutual. ❤️

They say that when you're giving a cat scritches, you should also take the opportunity to squoosh their pad paws, fiddle with their ears, make them do little dances, etc. to whatever extent they're willing to tolerate without distress, because working to build positive associations with being handled in this way will make medical examination and treatment much easier in the future. How fortunate, then, that this is exactly what 90% of cat owners are instinctively driven to do anyway.

Another amazing ficlet from my bestie hubs (hubby? Idk). ❤️

Smegtober- Day 14 (Nicknames)

“Why do you call me that?” Lister enquired, out of nowhere, propping his head on his hand, elbow resting on his pillow. 

“Call you what?” Rimmer responded from the bunk beneath him.

“You know what I mean. ‘Listy’”, he continued, realising the hologram might overthink, “Not that I mind. Just curious.” 

Rimmer was silent for a moment, wringing his hands, staring at the underside of Lister's bunk as though he would miraculously be able to see his face- read what he was thinking. Finally, he willed himself to respond, “I don't know... I can stop.” 

“No. It's fine,” the human persisted with damage control, “You don't need to stop.”

The second technician shook his head, shortly feeling ridiculous at the realisation his bunkmate couldn't even see him, “I don't even notice I'm doing it most of the time.” 

“Well, there you go, then. It's all fine.”

“But it isn't.”

Lister rolled his eyes, “How isn't it?”

“Well,” Rimmer paused for a moment, in thought, “for one, it's not even like we both do it. It's just me,” another pause, this time shorter, “ and I'm pretty sure it started maliciously.”

Lister chuckled, a cheeky grin bestowed upon his face, “Awwe, are you tellin’ me it's affectionate now?”

“Shut up,” the older man sulked.

“Don't be like that,” the third technician teased, “I think it's quite cute how you secretly adore me.”

Rimmer jumped up from his bunk to face Lister, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “I do not adore you!” He exclaimed defensively, his fists balled by his sides. Lister's smirk was unbearable. 

“Hey, don't be like that,” he said in his usual sickly sweet tone of mockery, “you don't need to tell me. It's been decades and we're still sharing a room.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he folded his arms, a scowl on his lips that didn't quite convince Lister. 

“Listen, man, I'm just sayin’ I know you, and you know me,” Lister sat up, attempting to look Rimmer in the eyes, “and on a ship the size of a small city, after all this time, we still sleep in the same room.” 

Rimmer avoided his gaze, “that's irrelevant. It is JMC regulation that-”

“And who exactly is still around to hold you to that?” Lister cut him off, “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“It doesn't,” he hissed, “I just don't like what you're implying.”

Lister sighed heavily, a huff of annoyance, “and what exactly am I implying?”

He had no reply. Pushing himself off the bunk, the human groaned at the ache in his knees; he took the hologram's hand between his, rubbing small circles on the back of it. Rimmer, sight fixed on his encased hand, stood frozen in place, as though in a trance. 

“Look, Rimmer,” Lister began gently, “all I'm sayin is I care about you and, I think, underneath all this neurosis, you care about me too.”

Smiling weakly, Lister moved one of his hands from Rimmer's own to his cheek, standing on his toes and chastley connecting their lips. Rimmer blinked. His expression read as though he had short curicted, like he was learning how to breathe again; his face finally decided to congeal into a slack jawed impression of disbelief. Lister playfully stuck his tongue out, breath caught in his throat when his bunkmate gripped his lapels, pulling him back in.

I do not have a crush on Audrey Hepburn. I admire her, I revere her, I look up at her from my grotty little place on this planet and wonder what we ever did to deserve such an angel in our midst. She is my religion.

Reblogging to say, this man. This man right here. This is the man that I immediately thought of when I heard that line.

Sitting outside my daughters ballet lesson, and this woman just said, "it's better to be an old man's darling than a young man's slave." And honestly I felt that right down to my fucking toes.

So ... what I'm hearing is he really needs someone to hold him while he sleeps.

Thinking about how Rimmer never looks particularly comfortable when lying in his bunk. He never looks like he relaxes all that much. I'm guessing that it's an issue formed from the terrible bullying he suffered from his brothers and at the boarding schools...

(also because Lister is a terrible snorer according to the books. In the novels, it is mentioned that Rimmer was beaten for little reason at school, including snoring.)

Anyway, it doesn't surprise me that Rimmer includes naps on his timetables...like yeah, between the anxiety and Lister's snoring, you're going to need to meet your sleep debt via naps.

Oh, that said I feel the possible sleep issues could also be due to his neurodiversity - whether it's the sensory issues or his mind not being able to quieten down.

I cannot act on my desires without opening myself up to a restraining order.

hey has anyone found a way to act on your desires without opening yourself to failure