so incredibly outrageously excessively monumentally bored

yh

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artemis_3 this funny thingy

Artemis 3.
The words feel foreign on my tongue.
All those years of staring up at the moon and stars above, all that time I would spend in my pajamas just staring up.
I'm going there.
A dream? A purpose?
Something is being fulfilled.
It's stuffy and uncomfortable in the pod, and we're still waiting for launch.
...
I'm going to f**king space!

gay sex

He lights a cigarette as I lay there, shivering. He's so...calm about this, as if we just had a conversation about the weather.
I tuck the blanket a little higher, blushing profusely.
"You want one?"
"N-no, I don't smoke."
A silence passes over us. I don't mind. I need a minute.

SCP 049 in the 17th century

Men on the streets drop dead, boils covering their forms like so many leeches.
The end times? Punishment for man's sin?
I don't know.
Through it all, he...well, he does something.
He doesn't have a name, and no one has ever seen his face. But he always rambles on about the "pestilence." Perhaps he is a doctor, with is bird-like mask and tall, lanky physique. What strikes me as oddn however...
Is that he always has these people following him.
They are gaunt and pale. They don't react to pain, voice...anything. The walk like puppets on strings. The man says they're cured.
I'm not so sure.