humanity is sleep

More “wtf are humans, please leave the rest of us be” stuff:

Human reactions to fear!

No, I’m not talking about screaming or freezing in one spot and pissing yourself. I’m talking about the weirder, more specific-to-only-humans fear reactions.

Like singing.

Idk how many of you have watched people play horror video games, but a surprising amount of people start narrating what’s going on in a sing-song voice.

Imagine being an alien, walking in a horrific, dark tunnel with these weird gangly creatures, you’re all scared out of your wits and then one of them starts fucking singing.

In a dark cave. While everyone’s terrified.

“ ♫ ~We are all gonna fucking die, this is terrible and I wanna go hooooome~ ♬ ”

And then one student said that happiness is what happens when you go to bed on the hottest night of the summer, a night so hot you can’t even wear a tee-shirt and you sleep on top of the sheets instead of under them, although try to sleep is probably more accurate. And then at some point late, late, late at night, say just a bit before dawn, the heat finally breaks and the night turns into cool and when you briefly wake up, you notice that you’re almost chilly, and in your groggy, half-consciousness, you reach over and pull the sheet around you and just that flimsy sheet makes it warm enough and you drift back off into a deep sleep. And it’s that reaching, that gesture, that reflex we have to pull what’s warm - whether it’s something or someone - toward us, that feeling we get when we do that, that feeling of being sad in the world and ready for sleep, that’s happiness.
—  Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition
What is sleep? (Baby don’t snooze me)

We love to think that we’re a rough and ready race (Hence the space-orcs name). The truth is, we’re big softies. Our environment is so incredibly kind to us, that we’re literally soft! We have no innate armour, little in the way of weaponry, and spend 1/3 of our time borderline unconscious, because we can.For most aliens, sleep simply doesn’t happen. You live, you fight, you die. This can lead to some awkward office conversations:Vultaire (Alien exchange student): Time to clock off for the day. What are you doing after class?
Charles (Human doctoral student): I’ve been crashing on my lab-partner’s couch whilst my home’s been renovated after The Accident™. It’s ready to live in again, so I’m off to buy a new bed this evening!
Vultaire: Crashing? I didn’t realise you were cybernetic. Let me recommend my debugger to you, he’s very good!
Charles: No cybernetics here, I just mean sleep. I forget that you’re still learning the language. Here, let me show you what I’m getting.
*Proceeds to show Vultaire pictures of luscious beds draped in colourful fabrics and peaceful people*

Vultaire: You’re…. dying?

Charles: No?! Why would you think that?

Vultaire: But those are funeral processions, I’ve seen them before. Why would you do that if you’re not dying?

Charles: *Laughing* Not funeral processions, but it’s pretty funny when you say it that way. It’s just for sleeping, resting, recuperating energy through the night. What do you do when you’re not here?

Vultaire: Go home and keep working. We don’t do this.. sleep thing *Scribbles in behavioural notebook*

Charles: Have you ever considered following the doctoral program? You’d be perfect for it…


Initial idea by freakinafishtank

I wonder why each little bird has a someone to sing to

i got a few requests for a companion piece to the gifts of beauty and song, my retold sleeping beauty fairytale, so here you go

so maleficent is the good fairy here, right, and the three fairies are the bad ones, so like fae do they each appear to be what they’re not. and aurora, given fae gifts and raised by fae, is nearly fae herself. maleficent knows that only an elf could hope to sway a fae heart, because elves are impervious to their glamour. maleficent kidnaps the young prince philip, and brings him to the elven realm. she tries to bargain a prince for a prince, but the king is unswayed. a human prince, he declared, is only worth an elvish servant, so that’s what she gets.

maleficent takes the servant and puts him in philip’s place, gives him that name, and watches as the servant elf is made a prince among mortals, watches as he eventually captures aurora’s heart, and saves her from her living death. watches as the elf servant turned prince becomes a king, as the almost-fae princess aurora becomes queen, and their two kingdoms become one and they rule the land of men together.

this, of course, begs the question – what happens to our dear human philip?

he is not the first child that has been bargained away to the elves, and elf queen thalia settles the young boy on her hip and raises an eyebrow at her husband, waiting. the child awakens by degrees, until he’s clutching her neck and blinking at the gathered elves. thalia is only grateful that he hasn’t started screaming, like so many of his kind do.

normally the children that are bargained to them are put to work in the castle, where they’re safe, where their clumsiness and their ignorance and their mistakes will be glossed over, where she and the king will ensure they will be politely ignored rather than harassed. they’ve lost a servant boy, and so she’s sure a servant boy is what this young human is meant to become.

except a woman of the court steps forward, and she’s old, old enough that it shows, that her curly hair has gone silver and wrinkles are etched deep in her face. lady ember is older than the forests they reside in, is older than her grandmother, than her great grandmother. everyone’s lost track of her exact age, but she’s the oldest elf in village. thalia likes her – she and lady ember have skin of the same dark shade. thalia hopes that if she is to live long enough, she and lady ember would look alike.

“i would like the child,” she says, eyes like amber, and for the moment she appears younger than she ever has. there’s something eager in her, and it brings a life to her that thalia hasn’t seen in a long time.

thalia looks to her husband, and king celedor gives a minuscule twitch to his lip which is an equivalent to a shrug. she sets the young human on the ground, and ember holds out a single hand. the child looks behind him, then in front him, and takes cautious steps forward. he steps until he can take her hand, his own looking small and pale in hers. “it’s been a long time since i was able raise a child,” ember says, “i would like to do so again. will you come home with me?”

and thalia understands. elf children take many hundreds of year to mature, and ember would not risk dying on a child before it could take care of itself. but humans are candles that burn at both ends – hot, and fast. within a decade or two the child in front of them will be able to survive on his own, will not need lady ember to coddle him for centuries.

he nods, and finally opens his mouth to say, “i am philip.”

“hello philip,” lady ember smiles, “i am lady ember of the mother tree. now you are lord philip of the ember tree.”

they are elves. they don’t do something as gauche as gasp, but the sentiment comes out just the same. celedor’s mouth drops open a millimeter and thalia’s right index finger twitches. raise a human child like a beloved pet they could all understand – but to adopt one, to truly adopt one that she’d just met and didn’t know and bequeath to him the estate and title the noble name of the mother tree?

lady ember leads her new son away, and the gathered elves can do nothing but stare.

~

prince elion – eli, to everyone who doesn’t want the prince of the elves nursing a personal grudge against them – comes home in the dead of night, when he can slip past the guards and the fawning people on the street and sneak into the royal quarters.

“mother,” he greets as he enters the library. his father sleeps early, but his mother doesn’t go to bed until nearly dawn. he kneels by her side, and she runs a hand through his hair, tugging the leather tie off when it gets in her way. his mass of dark curly hair tumbles around his head, and as he shakes it out leaves other debris fall out. thalia sighs, but doesn’t remark on it.

“your hunt went well?” she asks, although she knows the answer. eli is one of the best hunters in the kingdom, and his hunting parties – comprised of the strongest and best among the noble families – are notoriously profitable.

he grins, teeth extra white against his skin, “of course, mother. did anything interesting happen while i was away?”

“the faerie maleficent came and bargained away a human prince,” she says, “she wanted you in return. your father gave her a servant boy instead.”

eli laughs, too loud and boisterous, in a way he would never allow himself to laugh around his father or his subjects.

~

philip thinks perhaps he should be screaming, or crying, or causing some sort of fuss about this new life and this old woman who insists she’s his mother now. but he’s never had a mother before, and this new place is beautiful. they live in palace carved out of an enormous tree – the mother tree that their name comes from – and philip is given a lot more freedom as an elf lordling than he was as a prince.

he hopes the boy who took his place is nice to his father, and doesn’t mind long evenings with only the servants for company. being a prince can be very lonely. he knows from experience.

ember gives him rooms and toys, but warns him that he has a lot of work ahead of him. as a human, he’s at a severe disadvantage here at the elf court. elves are faster than humans, stronger and smarter and wiser. “it sounds to me,” philip says, “that maybe they’re just older. if i had hundreds of years, I could be all those things too.” ember’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and he returns it.

philip knows hard work. he was set to rule a whole nation, was set to lead whole armies. he knows training and learning and patience. learning to become an elf lord seems like it will be a lot easier than being a human king.

lady ember and her servants are harsh, but fair. in their home, in the mother tree, he is a pampered lord. out of it, however – he acquires many scars from training, from falling and failing. ember and her staff run him ragged into the ground, because he must be able to keep up with elves.

they have hundreds and hundreds of years to practice, to become strong and smart and fast. philip doesn’t have that long, so his mother forces him to do more, train harder, learn faster than would be expected of any elf.

so he learns. the first time he beats his trainer at an archery competition, he feels a swell of pride like nothing he’s felt before. as he inches his way to the level of his teachers, and then surpasses them, the feeling stays.

they’ve always been kind to him. but as his skill grows, they come to respect him, and that’s far more valuable.

~

eli hears of the human that lady ember of the mother tree took as her own – of course he does, it’s all anyone can talk about. but he doesn’t actually get a chance to see the boy, because lady ember keeps him safe on her lands, in her tree that none of them dare trespass on. so he assumes, like many, that she keeps him coddled and safe, away from those who would seek him harm, away from a world that would seek him harm.

then, two decades from when she gave young philip her name, lady ember finds him at court. she tilts her head, and he bows. he may be higher in rank, but he was raised to respect his elders, and lady ember is certainly that. “prince eli,” she says, “your next hunt is coming up, isn’t it?”

“yes, my lady,” he answers, wondering if she has a request. he doesn’t mind tracking down a certain type of meat or pelt for her – he likes the challenge, and likes lady ember.

she smiles at him, and for some reason he feels as if he’s staring into the jaws of a dragon. “excellent. might my son join you? he grows bored of hunting on his own.”

the last thing in the world eli wants to do is keep an eye on a bumbling, spoiled human. but this human is also the lord of the mother tree, and he can think of no response that wouldn’t bring his mother’s wrath down on his head. “of course, lady ember.”

Keep reading

Just imagine

Cliché alien abduction where they kidnap a human to get info so they can invade, right? And once the aliens get around the language barrier, they question the human. And as they ask questions, they get more and more terrified.
Humans can live in -20-100 degrees Fahrenheit no probs
Sometimes the ground SHAKES for no reason, and we usually go on with our daily lives
We have oceans, pools of water literally miles deep
Not to mention the humans themselves
We will literally die for each other, for the good of the group
We have technology that will show us the stars
We can do extraordinary physical feats when under duress
When we lose limbs, we make metal to do the same job
And of course, the human who is telling the aliens this MIGHT exaggerate a bit
“I once saw a guy whose entire body was made of metal. First he lost an arm, then a leg…”
“Oh yeah, humans have huge underground cities, they can live down their for centuries!”

You know, most animals that sing just do so in order to defend territory or attract a mate. Humans and a few other animals do it just for fun but a lot don’t.

What if, following the humans are weird thing, most intelligent species in the universe either don’t sing or just sing to flirt or start arguments so when they encounter humans they’re really confused.

Like? They just sing randomly? They actually plan out their singing and there are humans that train for it and make careers out of it? The humans use singing for teaching and expressing emotions other than lust or aggression?

And humans sing in order to remember things easily, lull other humans to sleep, calm themselves down, express every emotion they might have, and even more. And all of this is so confusing to the aliens.

2

we quit our home to wander the streets from which we can see the sunset falling

(thank you anon for the request!! I tried to bring to this some motions. hope they can wash off some longing and sadness you feel the way they sometimes do for me)

original videos of the gifs

here’s the request post 

okay, but imagine this

cas is horrible to share a bed with, and dean knows from first-hand experience

and it’s not even a simple issue like snoring, which dean could deal with because he’s shared a room with sammy tons of times throughout the years and sammy snores like a chainsaw

no, instead, cas is always doing shit like:

  • wedging his ice-cold toes between dean’s thighs in the middle of the night, even though dean repeatedly tells him to just wear socks to bed
  • eating in bed, and not a bowl of cereal either, but dry stuff like crackers and toast and those horrible nature’s valley oat bars that get scratchy crumbs everywhere in the sheets
  • flat-out refusing to get out of bed unless: (a) it’s after 11 a.m., (b) there’s already coffee ready and waiting for him, and if neither of those things are true, he’s not shy about telling dean to fuck off in a sleepy, muffled, yet dangerous, tone
  • insisting on showering at night before bed instead of in the morning like a normal person, so he always comes to bed with wet hair and gets the pillows all gross and damp
  • hogging said pillows, because there’s plenty to spare when they go to sleep but by the time they wake up, cas has two under his head, one stuffed behind his back, one wedged between his knees, one tucked against his chest, and dean has a crick in his neck from his head laying flat on the mattress all night
  • rolling over in the mornings to snuggle closer and always managing to jab an elbow or a knee right into dean’s half-full bladder
  • always leaning in for a good-morning kiss, horrible morning breath be damned

and dean would go fucking crazy, except for the fact that cas also:

  • looks so serious sometimes when he’s dreaming, eyebrows pinched together, until dean smoothes away the grumpy line with his fingers and cas’ face slowly relaxes
  • uses some kind of organic oatmeal and honey shampoo, and dean’s so conditioned to the smell that it’s impossible for him to fall asleep if he goes to bed first, tossing and turning impatiently until cas finally climbs under the covers and wriggles close
  • sighs sometimes in his sleep when dean wraps his arms around him, but not a heavy sigh, just a content, almost relieved-sounding sigh, a faint huff of breath that puffs against dean’s face
  • runs his fingers through dean’s hair when dean’s feeling restless, massaging his scalp deliciously until dean can barely keep his eyes open
  • hums quietly to himself, and maybe cas can’t carry a tune in a bucket and none of it ever sounds like a song dean can recognize, but the low, steady vibrations in cas’ chest are soothing in a weird way
  • stretches in the mornings, one leg kicking out from under the sheets, arms extending above his head, back arching languidly, all of his muscles taut beneath his skin
  • always leans in for a good-morning kiss, horrible morning breath be damned

touched up some old drawings bc im excited about the new short!! i know some people are less than thrilled and like listen i get the frustration but no amount of spawn camping or bad potgs will stop me liking this adorable bird-loving dreamworks death machine so

heres bastion being a friend