#and then remembered most people are probably sleeping in

[curiousorigins]

As someone who had Chronic Pain for the first like 25ish years of my life... Abled people literally do not understand the concept of a pain that never goes away.

They literally can't.

It's impossible. It even felt impossible for me because my pain was so early and so consistent that my brain literally just ignored it until one day I was doing physical therapy for a different injury... and it was just gone.

I felt it's absence and I felt the best I've felt in 20+ years.

I hadn't had a particularly good meal that day. Still had my stomach issues. Slept badly. My back hurt. Probably dehydrated. Definitely had tooth pain. But that was literally the best I can in memory, had ever felt.

The closest experience I can describe to it, is when you've got an abscessed tooth and they relieve the pressure and the pain is just gone and it's wonderful.

If there is no absence of pain... there is no relief. You can't just sleep in and feel better. You can't just drink water and feel better or get a new pillow etc. That's just your new default.

Now as someone who had previously considered myself abled who now has had an official disabled tag on me and all that... (I for the most part lucked out with a temporary disability. But know that plenty disabilities are chronic, permanent or get worse the longer you go.) I felt I was educated that I was an advocate but absolutely nothing prepared me for my body failing me so consistently. I listened to disabled folks and tried to amplify their voices.

I 100% was the person to go to bat for people who were in pain on my team. The problem is that for many people, pain is temporary. With rest, it goes away. With healing it gets better.

Most of those folks are sadly not educated. And conceptually it's a hard concept to work on despite all the empathy in the word.

The bigger the chain, the less likely that the person making the schedule can just hire another person and of course we all know companies have been understaffing on purpose for decades. This is definitely a Worker Rights issues. We've got a toxic working environment almost everywhere and the majority of the Working Class that's still working literally does not remember it being any better. You absolutely deserved better. And You definitely could use the support of an Advocate. I got in multiple fights on the behalf of co-workers all the time for these kind of issues. And when I was temporarily injured on the job, I had co-workers who fought for me too. The problem is people don't understand that we must stand together for this. For the abled folks, this is a temporary problem... just like their managers have been telling them understaffing is a temporary problem.

Look at your disabled co-workers folks and realize... one day that's going to be you. We literally all will at some point most likely be classed as disabled in some way. Sometimes permanently and sometimes not.

What you stand for TODAY is what might be left for you when it's your turn. Your managers/middle manager answer to a higher power then you and that is the greed of a very rich guy who literally sees you all as EXPENSES not VALUE.

DO NOT sacrifice YOURSELF on the Alter to Someone else's greed.

I understand the job market is tough and there are crappy work places that reveal themselves as crappy slowly. But YOU help create the CULTURE at WORK. ANYTIME I overheard management complain about such and such an employees issue with scheduling or with their ability. I ALWAYS spoke up.

I mentioned what a hard worker they were. How we'd been short on people for a long time. How we all deserved to be staffed enough that every one of us should be able to leave for 2 weeks and not have the store fall apart. I made people team lift. Reminded them that Corporate could not give them a new spine.

I trained most folks to speak up. And the more I did it, the more of use who would speak up.

And United We Bargain Divided We Beg.

The primary thing a manager is supposed to do is keep us compliant enough to work. Disgruntled rumblings are powerful when echoed.

Speak Up. Speak Up about TEMPORARY PAIN caused by WORK. TEMPORARY PAIN becomes PERMANENT PAIN if allowed to CONTINUE. PAIN is your body's FIRST attempt to get YOU to STOP doing something THAT IS HARMING YOU.

They decided that our anti-fatigue mats were a hazard. (It was actually the fact that our Stockroom was too small for the Stock they sent us and our Staff couldn't clear it with no space to work.) And tried to remove them. Every one of us had our shoes wear sooner and we all had greater back pain. I made sure to voice how weird it is that I hurt more now that we didn't have those mats. Sometimes I'd even sit down when we were unloading the truck to give my back a rest. I'd tell my other co-workers to do as well.

If a manager had the power to bring them back came in when I was sitting... I'd interrupt their telling me off for sitting that I literally hurt and what the cause was. That I'd probably be going to the doctor soon.

(Be sure to document your work pain by texting (not work but also work) other people about it. About how you hurt because blah blah at work. You might need it to prove that they should be paying to fix you if you ever need doctoring or disability pay.)

We got the mats back.

I would like to see more people talk about how jobs treat disabled employees.

I used to prep, wash dishes, and cook at mellow mushroom. I had chronic pain that wasn't NEARLY as bad as it is today, but it was still very debilitating. I told my employer "i cannot stand more than 4 to 6 hours. I CANNOT do shifts longer than this due to my illness." And even though i made my boundaries VERY clear, everyday i worked it was 8 hours at the least and 10 or 12 at the most. I would go up to my manager and say "look i really need to leave, my shift is over, my chronic pain is killing me." And he'd say "we really need to here, you HAVE to push through." And so i did, and after one, ONE month of that job my crps got incredibly worse to the point where i could no longer walk my dog around the block which was .5 miles. I quit, and that was FOUR years ago, and ever since that day I HAVE BEEN BEDRIDDEN AND HAVE TO USE A WHEELCHAIR. It is my biggest regret in life.

My best friend who has seen my whole journey has recently developed undiagnosed chronic pain, and she is in the EXACT same scenario i was 4 years ago. Busting her ass at a pizza place with extreme pain that hurts her so much she tells me "im in so much pain i don't even feel like a person." She doesn't feel LUCID. And her manager and coworkers are saying the same thing "if you don't help us you will let us down, we'll be in the shit."

That job thats hurting you isn't fucking worth it. I promise you no money is worth losing all your physical abilities and never getting them back. Your coworkers and boss do not give a shit about you, so don't you dare suffer for them. They will never understand your struggle and they will never try. They truly think being understaffed is worse than whatever pain you experience. They would rather you permanently damage yourself than inconvenience them. FUCK THEM. DON'T FUCKING DO IT!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It Was Smiling Down - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Ryan Butcher I'd die for you. If Eric Kripke EVER does you dirty he will have to answer to me personally. Title from San Francisco by the Mowgli's.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary/Warnings: A Ryan pov Chapter! Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, slightly angst, pre-established relationship

Ryan Butcher doesn’t really trust people. As a whole, they haven’t proven themselves to be that trustworthy. They mostly lie to him, or hurt him, or yell at him things that haunt him when he can’t sleep. Things about how he hurts people, when he doesn’t mean to. 

He never means to hurt anyone. It makes him feel heavy and sad and sick, and then the sizzle of flesh or crunch of bones has to be added to his nightmares, along with all the other faces that he did something bad to. Mom said hurting people was bad, and that we should treat others with kindness.

Dad said it didn’t matter. Dad said that people were like toys for them—the stronger, the better, the gods—to play with. That if Ryan broke one or two spines, or smashed four or five people into buildings, or punched a dozen people’s faces into their bodies, it didn’t really matter. The toy box was infinite, so they’d find a replacement. Dad said that humans couldn’t stop reproducing like cockroaches, so killing a few, or a lot, was if anything a favor to the universe.

Ryan had told Her that once. Not what his Dad had said—the mention of Dad always made Her face look sad, and Ben’s face look angry—but that cockroaches reproduced a lot. She’d been visiting him and Ben during training—all of them sitting on the floor, Ryan cross legged and Her leaning against Ben’s body—and Ryan had said it for a reason he couldn’t now remember.

She’d paused, frowning at her sandwich, then looked up at Ryan with a soft, curious gaze. “Do they? I mean, all bugs reproduce quickly for survival purposes, but I don’t think cockroaches are that remarkable at it.”

“I, I don’t know.” Ryan had mumbled, his eyes dropping to the mat. He didn’t want Her to be disappointed in him, even if she’d never been before. “I just heard it somewhere, I guess.”

“Huh.” She’d shrugged, reaching over Ben’s body to grab one of his fries that he always told Ryan tasted like fucking Styrofoam, but still brought every time she ate lunch with them. “Maybe I’m wrong-“

“No.” Ryan’s head had shaken nervously, because if Ben had taught him anything it was that She was almost never wrong. “I, I must have gotten it mixed up, I don’t know what animal reproduces the most-“ 

“Seahorses.”

Ryan had looked back up to Her, to see her grinning at him. All teeth and a warm affection that made the twisting feeling in Ryan’s gut fade. “Seahorses?” 

She’d nodded, humming an affirmation. “Up to 2,000 babies at a time.” Then She’d twisted around to look at Ben, her face growing just a little brighter than it had been before as Ryan saw their eyes meet. “And the men give birth to them, Benjamin.”

Ben had scowled. “How the fuck is that my problem-“

She’d pouted at him, and Ryan had seen them do this a million times before. She poked him, and he poked back, and neither of them ever really meant it, and it would go and go until one of them—probably Ben, Ryan had seen Her talk circles around their whole weird little family all at once with breaking or faltering—gave in and shut the other up.

“Would you give birth to my seahorse babies, my love?”

“I’m not giving birth to fucking shit-“

“But would you-“

“No.” Ben had grunted, rolling his eyes. “Because men don’t give fucking birth-“

“Seahorse men do. Seahorse men get pregnant, and then give birth. Which is usually how that process goes, but in seahorse societies it’s considered masculine. The men give birth because they love their partners and don’t want them to be in pain-“

Ryan didn’t think that last part was true, but there was usually a point in these arguments where She started to tug at Ben’s shirt with a soft, teasing smile, and said words that didn’t need to be true, because they were almost always her winning blow. This hadn’t been any different, because She’d cut herself off with a small yelp as Ben pulled her further into his lap, leaning down to kiss her.

Ryan had found somewhere else to look for a few minutes. He’d gotten good at that, at reading when he had to pretend that his two trusted adults weren’t maybe seconds from having sex on the floor. They never did, and it didn’t really bother Ryan—they both smiled twice as much when they were done, and Ryan had seen a lot worse than the way they always seemed to be eating each other’s faces—but he still had to wait it out.

When it was preceded by one of their fake arguments, it usually lasted a little longer. The kissing would stop, and they’d just look at each for a minute or two until She turned back to Ryan and Ben’s arms locked around her stomach.

That was Ryan’s favorite part of this. How She’d keep talking to him with a wide, happy expression that Butcher had called Her ditzy fuckin Soldier Boy smile, and Ben would just look at Her.

Ryan really liked how Ben looked at Her. It was an expression of something soft and powerful that he’d only ever seen on Ben’s face, only ever directed at her. It was relaxed and adoring, but still solemn and firm in the only way Ben seemed to know how to be. Like She might be the only thing that Ben knew was real, and he wasn’t bothered by that at all.

It wasn’t like Dad had looked at Stormfront. That had been meaner. Like they were always in a fight—not one of Her and Ben’s play fights, which were more like a cat and a dog swatting at each other before the dog flopped over, and the cat climbed on top of it, but instead a violent, bloody war—and were trying to see who’d snap first. Dad had looked at Stormfront like he was waiting for her to stab him, but wasn’t sure she would.

Ben looked at Her like he’d handed her the knife to carve into his body, and She’d made a face and thrown it away. 

Ryan hadn’t really ever seen Butcher look at Mom, but he hoped it had been a little like that. It was what Mom had deserved, even if Butcher could be a cock fuck bitch with his head tonguing his own ass, in Ben’s words.

But Butcher was getting better. He’d apologized for saying Ryan had hurt Mom—he hadn’t meant to, he never meant to, and he still had nightmares where Mom’s guts were spilling out of her body, and she looked right through Ryan like he was a ghost—and mostly didn’t talk to Ryan about Dad anymore.

Nobody really liked to talk to Ryan about Dad. Ryan knew She would, if he asked, but he didn’t want to ask. He’d never forget what Butcher had shown him—about Mom and Dad and Her—or how, for the first two months Ryan had lived with everyone, She’d been gone because of Dad. Because of Ryan. 

Not your fucking fault, kid. She’d kill me if I let you blame yourself for your pussy fuck dad’s actions.

That was why Ryan talked to Ben about it. He didn’t coddle or lie or sweeten the truth, he just grunted words that—when Ben said them—always seemed to be the inherent truth. Dad wasn’t Ryan’s fault, and Ryan was getting stronger, and it was okay that Ryan got afraid because it he wasn’t a pathetic fucking dickless pussy about it.

Ryan asked Ben if it was okay to hurt people, and Ben told him if they fucking deserve it, but only if they deserve it, and Ryan decided that sounded right. And She said most people didn’t deserve to be hurt, and very few things were truly unforgivable, so Ryan could try to figure out what things were really wrong, and then hurt the people that really deserved it.

Dad deserved it. When Ryan wasn’t afraid of Dad, he was angry at him. 

“Do you get angry?” He’d mumbled over a breakfast in Her and Ben’s apartment, and She’d hummed, tilting her head.

“I do. We all do. Anger is our brains telling us that something is unfair, and a lot of this isn’t really fair. So yeah, I get angry.”

Ryan had nodded slowly, turning to Ben as he approached the table from the kitchen. “Ben, do you-“ 

“Course I fucking get angry.” Ben had dumped three large pancakes onto Ryan’s plate, then two larger ones onto Her’s, then a smaller one onto his own, and ignored Her glare as he dropped into his seat. “This whole goddamn thing-“

She’d cleared her throat, eyes narrowed at Ben. “Benjamin.”

“What-“

She’d given a pointed look to his plate, then back to him. “You need to eat as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Sunshine, you and the kid need more than I do-“

She’d cut one of Her pancakes in half, moving the bigger piece to Ben’s plate, and he’d scowled. They’d both been silent, glaring at each other for almost a minute, and then Ben had grunted. She’d leaned back into her chair with a smug grin, and everything had moved on.

Neither of them had been mad, though. Ryan had thought that glaring and frowning was only about hatred, but when She and Ben glowered at each other it seemed to be more of a standoff. An act or show or contest of affection that neither of them ever seemed to be upset about losing.

They were never really mad at each other at all. Ryan had seen them yell at and taunt and mock each other, but there always seemed to be something under it that sounded like I love you. I’m allowed to call you a dumb dumb or pain in the ass, because I love you and we both know I don’t mean it, because I’m “fighting” with you, but I’m also holding onto you like you’re a buoy in the storm.

Ryan wanted to love someone like that. He wanted someone to love him like that. Because Ben never seemed to really think she was mad at him, even when she called him a cunt or idiot or asshole. Ryan himself didn’t think she was ever really mad at Ben, because he’d watch Her hit Ben’s arm with a fake pout or glare, but she’d never flinch or cower away from him. She was always touching Ben, and she was never afraid of him. Ben had hurt people, Ben was just as dangerous as Ryan was, but She only touched and looked at him like he’d fallen from heaven for her to have. She always kept her hand in Ben’s, or her body in his arms, or their legs pressed together. And she always looked for him. And She always seemed to be happier when she was talking to and looking at Ben, with just his presence never failing to make her smile.

And Ben loved Her. It seemed like love in movies Ryan had watched with Mom, or that he’d read about in books he’d found tucked in corners of Butcher’s apartment. But real. Ryan didn’t think Ben was capable of being really, truly mad at Her, and she seemed to know it. Ben would roll his eyes at Her, and grumble that she was brat, or glare at her in a way that would be dangerous if it wasn’t at Her. Whenever Ben glared at Her it was so painfully fake Ryan wondered if Butcher had been lying when he’d told Ryan not to mention love around those two twats, they ain’t aware that they’re fuckin obsessed with each other yet after She’d returned, because Ben didn’t seem capable looking at Her with anything but love painted over his features.

They certainly knew now. Everyone knew, because every third sentence out of Ben’s mouth was another declaration of love for Her. Every single thing Ben did seemed to be something for Her. Ryan would eat dinner with them, and he’d see Ben pass Her a fistful of stolen chocolate under the table. He’d watch a movie with them, and She’d would be holding Ben’s arms against Her, and Ben would kiss her in the dark and snort at her jokes and get Her and Ryan snacks whenever either of them so much as mentioned the word hungry. He’d train with Ben, and ask a question about punching, and Ben would grumble about how She said you could punch people and be a pacifist, like Muhammad Ali, and she was always fucking right about that shit. And She was a genius. And a better person than every other fucking pussy on the planet, so they should both fucking listen to her. 

Ben carried Her in his arms wherever she let him, and She never stopped smiling at him, and Ryan had decided that if he ever loved someone—far in the future, when Dad was just a faint, reoccurring nightmare—he’d love them like Ben loved Her.

Ryan would never be like Homelander, because he’d never lock up or hurt people he loved. Ryan would be like Ben. And that felt easier, because Ben never demanded that Ryan follow in his steps. He was just there, and trustworthy, and Ryan wanted to be strong like him. He wanted to protect people and do things for them. He wanted to never speak or think of his Dad again, because really their family was Ben and Her, a stained hole that didn’t really matter and Ben wouldn’t let hurt them, and Ryan. It was Butcher forgiving Ryan, because he was trying, and She said the most important thing anyone could do was try to be better. 

He was really trying to be better. Ryan didn’t really trust people, but he trusted Her and Ben when they said that this wasn’t his fault. He believed them when they told him what he knew, that Ryan really didn’t mean to hurt people.

And Ryan hoped that, after Homelander was dead, he’d get to have a life where they kept smiling at each other—and him—and Ryan never was made to hurt someone again.

End Note: Catch Ben in his Dad era, coming to a No Love Lost chapter near you (in all seriousness I hope you guys liked the extra pov! An outside perspective on how down bad they both are was very fun to write)

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[ashkabbom]

Would it have worked? - Mouthwashing

A/n: I think it's important to let you know that I haven't written frequently for a long time, but following something new has made me excited and with a peak of creativity, I apologize if I wrote something wrong or said something wrong 😭 feel free to correct me 🫶🏽

Versão em português no wattpad: ashkabbom (Nome: Teria dado certo?)

I didn't write this in a romantic way, but please give my writing a chance 🙏🏽

Mini warnings: Mention of bullets and death of the main character, I think that's all?

When you arrived here, expectations and nervousness went hand in hand, but regardless of how strange and weird everything around you was, hope was something you insisted on having at all times. Tulpar will be a good or at least interesting experience.

You really made friends, don't think you didn't!

Having someone like Anya to talk to in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep properly was comforting.

The dialogues you and Daisuke had were definitely something interesting, you got along well together, sometimes even Swansea was there too, claiming that two interns together wouldn't be a good idea.

Now, about the captain and him. The captain was actually quite calm, a very understanding man, sometimes he would join you and Anya at night... But he was something else. He could just be someone who was a little stressed and had a weird mood. There are a lot of people like that, right?

You remember talking to him and the captain a few times, but rarely, only when it was really necessary or just to relax.

A year transporting a load among so many stars, a load that you didn't even know what it was initially, it would be good to have a good relationship with the others on the ship, your companions after all.

You start to think as you stare at the sky projected on the huge screen, remembering the little conversation you had with your friend.

"Where do you think you would be if you hadn't come to work here?" Daisuke asks looking at you.

"Hmmm.. probably working in a supermarket I think. That was my option if this one didn't work out, so I would keep sending resumes to see if I could get a better job I think.." You say as you remember your old options, there weren't many, but there were still possibilities. "But what about you?"

"Honestly I don't know, I try to be positive about it.." Daisuke looked insecure and uncertain about where he could be now. "Would we still talk when we get back home? I don't know if I'm going to stay here after all this, their cake isn't the best." He tries to relax.

Out of all the people on this ship, Daisuke was the easiest to talk to and actually build some kind of relationship with, maybe because you two were the most positive in that situation.

Even with that foam everywhere on that ship, lost in a loud silence between the darkness and the stars, you were all going to make it back to Earth.

Maybe because you two were more naive than the others on that ship, the two sanest on that crew.

"Hey, you're a cool guy, I'm sure you'd be working in a good place!" A confident smile appears on your face, trying to dismiss your friend's worries. "Of course we would still talk to each other when we get back, we are friends after all, together here for months"

He smiles positively and you say not to go crazy before you, you laugh but are soon interrupted by Swansea asking what the hell you two were doing up in the middle of the night

It was kind of stupid. Maybe you two should have been a little more realistic about the situation. More than 4 or 5 months, shit, you didn't even have any sense of time anymore. No one had come looking for you yet. Had anyone noticed that you were missing and never contacted Pony Express again?

Sitting with your friends at that table, as if it were the day of that news, with everyone sitting together and the cake for the captain on the table.

Now, with a bullet hole in your forehead, along with your friends and that man, your head tilted to the side, you stare at the sky projected on the broken screen, wondering if this would have worked.

A/n: English is definitely not my first language, so I had a lot of translator help! Sorry for any nonsense words with other words.

I just wanted to write a little bit and I liked Mouthwashing, how the game approaches the theme of work and worker, each character's situation in relation to themselves and the general situation ^^. Feel free to tell me what you think of my writing and if you want me to write something, I wouldn't mind. 🎀

[julietifsheneverdied]

could i ask for a percy jackson x gn reader, with just pure fluff ? :3

yes yes yes!! mwah <3

COLD NIGHTS 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ percy jackson x reader you could spend every day with him like this.

fluff | established relationship

━━━━ NORMALLY, THE camp wasn’t cold or filling with snow, but this year was different: with enough people begging chiron to let the snow into camp, he finally agreed. so layers of snow filled camp grounds, and snowball fights were common to see.

everyone trained inside now, and hot chocolate was almost always available if you had your chalice.

you, however, weren’t a big fan of how cold it had gotten. yes of course you loved the snow; seeing the ares kids battle apollos kids in snowball fights, the stroll twins pulling pranks using the most common resource around them, and snowmen everywhere from more apollo and aphrodite kids.

what you were a big fan of, was spending cold nights curled into your boyfriends bed. that’s where you were now, wrapped in his arms on his bed with layers of blankets over the both of you.

your hands had long since been tangled into the mess of curls on his head, legs in a messy heap under the blankets, and his hands raking up and down your back.

this is what you would choose to do for the rest of your life, feeling his heartbeat against your own, the warmth radiating between the both of you was greater than what the blankets would provide.

“you sleeping?” his voice wasn’t more than a soft murmur, the vibrations of his words was felt through his body, and now was one you could feel.

“not yet. you?” you scooted closer - if that was possible - to him and didn’t bother moving to look up at him.

“no. warm though, you warm, baby?” he asked you, tightening his arms around you.

“mhm.” you hummed.

there wasn’t a need to say anything else after that, the peace and quiet between you two spoke well enough. you imagined living with percy, somewhere in new york (probably close to his mom and step-dad, which you’d never mind - mrs. jackson was the sweetest woman ever) and spending days like this.

no responsibility, no monsters after you, nothing. this is what you wanted, you remembered the dreams that came before you were in camp, and even more memorable when you had started staying here.

dreams of a boy with black, curly hair and sea green eyes, the two of you sitting at the beach side with laughter in the background. your hands laid intertwined between you and him, and the waves crashed against the wet sand a mere few feet away.

it was nothing but blissful peace.

“wanna visit my mom for the holidays? she says she got you some presents.” percy’s hand began to trace over some imaginary shape on your back.

“of course, perce, of course i want to.” you smiled against his shoulder, brwathing in his cologne mixed with salty seawater - he smelt like your percy, and it was all you needed to close your eyes and basically fell asleep.

MAIN MASTERLIST — REQUESTS ARE OPEN — PERCY JACKSON MASTERLIST

authors note; okay this is very short and I APOLOGIZE great things are short tho size doesn’t matter

- juliet ⋆♆.˚

[clonerightsagenda]

Since it is self-indulgence Saturday, even though this is not podcast girls related in its entirety, I decided to follow in Kate's footsteps and post the outline for a Wolf 359 PMV I have been thinking about for years but can't make to shake everyone by the shoulders and say "do you understand my vision".

It's set to Marianas Trench's "Masterpiece Theatre III." If you are asking yourself 'Hey Kat was this inspired by that one really big lyricst-" what about it. The first and last lines are perfect fits when taken literally, idk what to tell you.

I got a new disease in me Eiffel coughing, Hilbert offering ‘nicotine’ lozenges I got a friend that's losing sleep Hilbert bent over a microscope, Minkowski’s silhouette peering in through the lab door I take it hard, it's hard to take Minkowski frowning and writing a letter starting with Dear Dominik I'm wide awake Hera surrounded by screens showing all three of those previous scenes I'm wide awake Outside shot of the station framed against the star

One more confession, Eiffel speaking into the recorder discretion's not what I need to sell his words broadcasting into deep space I never needed a reason for keeping secrets from myself Anne’s photo taped under his console And now that's just how I tell Hilbert leaning over Eiffel’s shoulder as music plays. Hilbert’s gaze flicks toward him I'm wide awake Eiffel with the gas mask surrounded by knockout gas

I'll wreck this if I have to Minkowski outside the station pounding on the airlock door Tell me what good would that do Eiffel lighting his last cigarette I'll wreck this if I have to Hilbert ripping out Hera’s personality matrix

(I'd be so good to you) Carter shaking Dmitri Volodin’s hand in his Russian apartment (I'd be so good to you) Rachel introducing Minkowski to Hilbert as her science officer at Canaveral

You get separated, somebody's gone Eiffel playing chess with the auto program And I don't know how this is wrong The crew arguing over Hilbert, Hera with a skull speech bubble and Eiffel with handcuffs And I'm so frustrated, falling behind Disheveled Minkowski hunting the plant monster You were a friend of mine Lovelace pushing Hilbert up against the wall, her hands around his throat

I'd be so good to you Lovelace taking Hilbert to lunch at her insistence 'Cause they don't know you like I do Flashbacks to Lovelace’s mission They don't know you like I do Lovelace horrified seeing Eiffel getting sick, flashback to Lambert sick the same way They don't know you like I do Hera viewing Eiffel in the medbay through her screens, a bunch of metrics on blood ox, heartrate, etc. pulled up They don't know you like I do The whole crew staring at the comms as it speaks with Eiffel’s voice

*** Instrumentals: Star changes color ***

There's a difference from me to them Lovelace shoving Minkowski out of the way and getting impaled And the road home is paved in star fuckers requiem Eiffel desperately piloting the rickety shuttle I can never go, go back home again Lovelace’s monitor flatlining (Acadia is gone) Acadia is gone The shuttle exploding and disappearing into the distance

All my indecision, all of my excess Don't you ever tell me I'm not loving you best Cutter in his swanky office receiving the distress call, juxtaposed with Minkowski, breath puffing out from the cold, placing the call. Cutter is dominant in the visuals, with Minkowski as an afterthought And I just need a minute, I just need a breath It's very hard to drink to my continued success and I, I will Rachel Young handing a mission dossier to a shadowy figure. Again Hera’s schematics showing the percentage of the station systems in crisis are present but pushed to the side, peripheral slow down, slow Eiffel half dead slumped over the shuttle console It's better in the worst way The Urania overshadows Eiffel’s shuttle It's getting better in the worst way SI5 looming over him in the open hatch, smiling unpleasantly

(Look around, round, look around, round, look around) (Look around, round, look around, round, look around) (Look around, round, look around, round, look around) (Look around, round, look around, round, look around) Timelapse showing an external view of the station changing – original layout, stress fractures, Urania parked next to it, wing getting blown off (rip Blessie… or not???), Urania getting integrated into the structure

So here's another day, I'll spend away from you Minkowski floating leaning her head against a window. Maybe holding a wedding ring Another night I'm on another broken avenue Eiffel’s mugshot on the console Trading in who I've been for shiny celebrity skin Hilbert getting his wrist slammed in the drawer, his careful samples going flying I like to push it and push it until my luck is over Lovelace staring down Kepler over the chess board

I wonder what you're doing, I wonder if you doubt it Kepler sipping his scotch and gesturing to it, presumably giving The Whiskey Speech. Maxwell and Jacobi in the background pretending to gag I wonder how we used to ever go so long without it Kepler handing Jacobi his business card at the bar All the work to impress, charming girls out of their dresses Maxwell at Hyperion’s house with Kepler surrounded by fancy readouts Smiling pretty and pretty Maxwell and Hera looking at each other on the mindscape beach

I am right beside you, right (I thought you wanted me) (What you want, what you need) Jacobi outside pounding on the capsule, Jacobi inside horrified, Maxwell indecisive I am right beside you, right (I thought you wanted me) Lovelace and Hilbert vs the dentist chair from hell (What you want, what you need) Minkowski attempting to phone home I'll make this perfect again Minkowski slamming her fist into her palm in the hidden room, decision to mutiny (I thought you wanted me) (What you want, what you need) (Cross my heart, I hope to die, hope to die) If I burn out and slip away Lovelace tied to a chair next to Eiffel in the armory, expression defiant. Countdown ticking over the image: 10, 9, 8, 7, 3, 2, 1. When the countdown gets to 1, Lovelace closes her eyes. (What you want, what you need) (Cross my heart, I hope to die, hope to die) (I thought you wanted me) (What you want, what you need) You're beautiful, you are A bloodspattered Lovelace’s eyes snapping open as she’s wreathed in blue light

I've been here so very long Eiffel facing Bob in the hotel room. Stars popping up in Bob's speech bubble to indicate the many systems they've done this with (I could slip into you, it's so easy to come back into you) Restraining bolted crewmembers smiling at an imprisoned Lovelace I'll hide it, can I hide in you a while? Eiffel screaming at a Pryce-piloted Minkowski through the airlock/ the two of them escaping into the vents (I'm not sick of you yet, is that as good as it gets?) Lovelace and Jacobi firing on the Sol capsule with the launcher I never took you for a trick but Lovelace and Kepler staring each other down over the negotiations table sometimes I don't know what you want Cutter and Minkowski superimposed over them I could take it if you need to take this out on someone Rapidfire: Minkowski sending Eiffel home, Jacobi’s fight with Reimann, Lovelace shooting Minkowski, Kepler in the airlock (And this is just the part I portray) Hera in the mindscape facing off against Pryce with Eiffel behind her (And this is just the part I portray) The picture dissolving into shards strobed with jagged electricity I don't know how it got this way Picture resolving into Doug holding a recorder in his hand

[sluckythewizard]

[PUT INTO PLACE, TIED DOWN AND ARRANGED, AND IS NEVER THE SAME, AGAIN.]<-listen to my favorite songs. VAMPIRES ARE WONDERFUL ARENT THEY. THE FLESH IS SO MUCH MORE DURABLE. SO MUCH STRETCHIER THAN HUMANS. THE STRESS DOESNT KILL A VAMPIRE THE SAME WAY IT DOES A HUMAN. YOU CAN TAKE THEM APART THREAD BY THREAD AND LEAVE THEM WIDE AWAKE WITHOUT WORRY OF THE BRAINMATTER SPOILING UNDER VINEGARY AGONY.

[spontaneousglitterbees]

[aprillikesthings]

OKAY BUT ALSO and I know I'm thinking about this bc I watched Save the Cat again last night

BUT

I can't get over all of this from Catra's POV because, again, it's been a whole year since she's even seen/spoken to Adora, she's been spending the whole time trying to defeat the Rebellion and working so hard she's losing it from not sleeping enough--only for it all to crumble to nothing, for Double Trouble to show up and rub it in, and then Glimmer shows up and Catra's just like. "fuck it, kill me."

she really does think nobody gives a shit whether she lives or dies*, and sending Glimmer away is meant to be a "well Prime's probably going to kill me anyway lol might as well at least save Adora (and Glimmer). and apologize to her while I'm at it"

BUT NOPE

fuck

so she apologizes to Adora, assumes she's gonna be killed, and instead is tortured and chipped. And depending on how you interpret Don't Go, is forced to hallucinate Adora rescuing her multiple times.

but Adora DOES show up, and Catra fights off the chip just long enough to tell Adora she wants to go home--before Prime pitches her off the platform to her near-death, and ffs I have to headcanon she was unconscious immediately D:

And the next time she's conscious, AT ALL, Adora is holding her.

Even in the Portal most of their affection was play-fighting and shoving each other.

Two years of trying so hard to prove (to herself, to Adora) that she doesn't need Adora, one day of the Portal forcing her to remember she misses Adora before it all falls to pieces, another year of attempting to destroy everything Adora loves** while avoiding even seeing her/speaking to her--and then ONE APOLOGY and act of self-sacrifice

and Adora shows up, promises to take her home, and Catra wakes up in Adora's arms as Adora hugs her and cries in relief.

AAAAHHHHH FUCK

(*she's like "all I do is hurt people, there's nobody in the universe who cares about me," dude Glimmer clearly doesn't hate your guts anymore lol there's at least ONE person, but eh, we know she struggles with this shit, like, believing anyone might care about her is half her arc in s5 and she backslides repeatedly until the literal last episode) (**including herself, not that she believed that at the time)

okay I know I've talked about it....multiple times...on other posts, but the timeline of Adora and Catra's interactions from s3 to s5 fucking kills me because like

so the portal happens, they're REALLY affectionate in that fake reality, then it falls apart and Catra is furious, blaming her for everything while corrupted, and Adora punches her

and I wonder how much they both thought about how flirty they were at first, in the portal reality? that the reason Catra was so furious was Adora forcing her to confront the fact that it's fake--that Catra wanted to stay in that reality longer.

like DO THEY BOTH THINK ABOUT THAT??? do they lie awake at night sometimes and think about it??? (well, past Catra's literal nightmares in which Adora asks her why she pulled the switch)

what is the story they've each told themselves about what happened in the portal reality, when they were so affectionate? "she didn't mean any of it"? cool, YOU still did.

I just imagine both of them thinking "well shit. I thought I'd gotten rid of all those feelings. eh, it was the portal. not me." BZZT. WRONG.

anyway. a few episodes into s4 is the next time they see each other, they don't even fight directly, Catra tries her old taunting-but-flirting thing and Adora refuses to engage.

and that's it.

for like. an entire season of the show. so about a year. A YEAR.

Catra ends up on the ship with Glimmer, they reminisce and we see Catra smiling while talking about Adora.

but the next time they even hear each other's voices is Catra over the comms saying she's sorry. and trying to save Adora's life. ;_;

[sweetlullabyebye]

Just realized that there are not one, there are not two, there are THREE scenes of Moonjo peeking at Jongwoo

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

something about that whole incident must have changed something in my brain chemistry cause my insomnia’s gotten bad again

the past few days i’ve getting to sleep at two or three. kinda sucks i guess, but i don’t really want to resort to taking melatonin again

[ontargetmadders]

God writing a wedding is actually harder than it seems! Especially if you're trying to make it relaistic and use the proper phrases and processes and everything

[pikachu-deluxe]

literally no idea how i am even supposed to know where i land on the neurodivergent or neurotypical thing when i don't even know myself all that well. like, how am i supposed to answer when people ask me things about how i think. idk it just happens lol is probably not the response people are looking for

[actually-the-antichrist]

wow this world really does not have a baseline for how bad people can let things be

[theinfinitedivides]

i'm sorry but. ykw the next time i hear someone tell me that i have ADHD and (suspected) autism bc i have low emotional intelligence + all i need to do to get rid of my additional (possibly) EDS-induced joint pain is to think happy thoughts and take zinc supplements. istfg i will smash their kneecaps with a spike-ended baseball bat and put them outside in the rain. naked, and without painkillers. how's that for happy thoughts

[solsticethebatearedfox]

damn, cats really are Creatures, aren't they? Couldn't find my sweet boy anywhere in the house, swore he was inside for the night, but he wasn't in any of his usual spots. And I couldn't see him anywhere else either - I even checked in the kitchen cupboard. So, I instead loudly opened his food drawer, and made tin cluttering noises. He instantly teleported in front of me from who knows where. Typical 🙄

[snekdood]

Damn well. One of the clear ways you can tell my ex is bullshitting about me being anywhere near conservative is the fact that i get along well w the left leaning portion of my family vs the right leaning portion whomst i Do Not get along with or interact with