#also brain fog

[haldenlith]

Reminded (while being on my period) that I once again wish there was a cheap, easy way to just... never have periods again. But getting your uterus removed is expensive, and certainly not easy (oof, the recovery...).

Dysphoria aside, the other bits are just the worst. The fatigue (gods the fatigue is so bad), the bloating, the mess...

I hate this.

[sylphee]

the "both of us have at one point gotten violently erased from existence but we got better™ so we're totally fine now for serious :)" team

[obsob]

muse :3

✹prints shop!✹

[isjasz]

[Day 136]

Greyout

[thrutheinferno]

nap time in mordhaus !!!!! 😴🌟🛏️

[countingfailuresnotstars]

every time that I think about the fact that for "normal people" normal level pain is zero pain I'm shocked, how is that even possible

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

Holes. Keys. What Have You.

I have full analyses I've been wanting to actually do and gather images for over the entire past year, but in the meantime, have this <3.

[relicsongmel]

Something I've always found fascinating about Raymond Shields is that despite seemingly having altruistic reasons for being a defense attorney, his reasons for trying to convince Miles to be one are anything but.

It seems understandable enough on the surface. After Ray comes around and agrees to work with Miles in The Imprisoned Turnabout, he sees remnants of Gregory shining through him despite von Karma's influence. Whether or not he recognizes that Miles' decision to become a prosecutor wasn't just born from that alone—that it was in tandem with wanting to distance himself from anything that reminded him of his father to alleviate the burden on his heart—is up for debate, but regardless: he acknowledges Miles as Gregory's son through and through and wants to capitalize on his dedication for pursuing justice in a way that he knows would make his father proud. He wants to let Miles in on the life he was robbed of at 9 years old—the life he once dreamed of living, where he follows in the footsteps of his father by giving everything he has to save people, by fighting like hell for the vulnerable and the condemned.

That said, as much as Ray dresses up his proposition by making it out to be as if he's looking out for Miles' best interests (and the best interests of society, even)...his motives for trying to get Miles to switch sides are almost entirely selfish. Ray's efforts (and most of his actions in general, really) are ultimately a product of his desperate attempt to cling on to anything related to Gregory out of an inability to move on from his death. Wearing his hat and coat, leaving the name of his office unchanged...and now, requesting that his son literally change jobs just because he can't bear the weight of his own loneliness anymore. Because he can't bear to think that the damage done by DL-6 is irreversible and Miles has moved on while he has stagnated for the past 17 years. Because he has an idealized vision of what he thinks Gregory would want and fails to realize that his son's occupation wouldn't matter to him as long as it brings him happiness and fulfillment. In his mind, letting Miles go means accepting the circumstances that brought him where he is and allowing both of them to move on. And that terrifies him.

It's even more deceitful when you realize that Ray's pitch comes at a very opportune time for Miles given his circumstances at that point: that is, he's under threat of investigation for prosecutorial misconduct and at risk of being stripped of his badge. Ray might fake incompetence, but he's not stupid—and he takes full advantage of Justine's warnings to try to sway Miles when he's in a more vulnerable position in terms of his job. Which is...pretty fucked up, to put it lightly. Despite having a better idea of where he came from compared to most people, through this Ray shows a lack of understanding of who Miles truly is and a lack of respect for what he's come to value, even if his path toward obtaining those values had some bumps along the road. But he's so blinded by his grief that he doesn't even stop to consider how much he's really asking of him, or what Miles is really searching for.

Ray was moved by Gregory. He values saving people. Defending the weak is an undeniably noble endeavor. But to ask that of someone else without consideration for their best interests is decidedly less so.

For all his occupation requires a certain selflessness, Raymond Shields is far more selfish than he lets on. And I for one find that contradiction fascinating to unpack.

[dykephan]

if phil said the december i mean october thing because he had a migraine and forgot his line i'm going to ceremonially kill myself as penance for talking about it so much. i'm so sick at the thought of him accidentally revealing personal information before he was ready. MANY SUCH CASES :(

[tennessoui]

writing warm up that got away from me

It takes thirty-two more hours for the realization to come to Sidious, and he blames Skywalker wholly for the delay. The boy's own stupidity and black-and-white view of the galaxy must be rubbing off on him, that's the only reason Sidious can think of for not having thinking of this sooner.

Kenobi. 

And Skywalker.

The answer has been sitting right before him this entire time, but he had been too blinded by his own hatred of Kenobi to see it. And Skywalker's hero worship of the man hadn't helped, of course. The way Skywalker talked of his old Jedi master evoked images of untouchable saints, glowing angels, benevolent deities...the same way he talked of those sentients he fancied himself in love with at the height of his relationships with them. Gilded and perfect and infallible. It was the way Skywalker loved, to paint his paramours as idols placed upon a pedestal.

How had Sidious missed that Skywalker had already done the same thing with Kenobi? Years ago! For years, he has endured Skywalker's fanatical praise of his Jedi master. He has listened to him complain about the man, his fastidiousness, his devotion to the Jedi Order--but oh, those moments that Sidious had made the mistake of agreeing with Skywalker's own words! He has never felt closer to losing Skywalker's trust than those times he let a bad word about Kenobi slip past his lips, even though Skywalker himself had already said much more damning things.

And yet no matter the argument, no matter the disagreement between Kenobi and Skywalker, Skywalker's faith in his master did not waver. He never took his master down from that pedestal, no matter how many times Kenobi revealed himself to be just a man.

Sidious has spent years resenting that, resenting Skywalker's unshakeable devotion to his master. He has spent years trying to ingratiate himself to the boy, trying to replace Kenobi as the boy's mentor, his father. And every time he has failed because it seems that no matter how often Kenobi manages to break Skywalker's heart, Skywalker gives it to him again without hesitation.

But...but if Skywalker were to see Kenobi through the lens of a man in love, if they were to fall into bed together and strike up a romance, then surely...surely Kenobi would flinch at the force of Skywalker's naked devotion.

[x-letsbreaksomerules-x]

“He ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all.”

[foxxology]

been quiet for the past couple days cuz my disabilities are disabling???? me?????? (incredibly rude)

So here's your sign, fellow spoonies, to make sure to take your breaks before the break is taken for you

[wigglebox]

Biiiiiig stretch! 🌈

[infamous-if]

Oh, damn. No 25 with MC trying to protect/take care of Seven in a dangerous situation sounds nice.

Hope you feel better soon, Amy! Take care!

Thank you! <3 Dangerous situation, you say?

Double whammy (the amount of seven asks...)

CW: blood

This is all your fault.

You shouldn't have said anything. You shouldn't have fought with the person at the bar. You should've left it alone.

You should've known that Seven wouldn't let it go. Even when they hate you.

You should've known Seven. Has it been that long that you forgot who they were? Once, they were as familiar to you as the very lines on your palm.

"Seven, please."

You're holding onto them as you two stumble out of the bar, moving like two drunkards though both of you are terribly sober. The warm sensation of Seven's blood on your shirt sends dull fear over you. You're spiraling. Breaking. You don't know what to do.

Seven lets you guide them outside, your arms wrapped closely around them as they keep a hand under their nose which spews blood like an open faucet. It sends another round of fear down your spine, but it's not their nose that has you so breathless you're dizzy.

Their stomach.

In the heat of the moment, the person Seven was fighting threw them on the table littered with glass cups and broken bottles. Seven claims to be fine, but the way blood makes an angry stain on the green fabric of their shirt and Seven limps like their body is failing them, you know they're anything but.

Seven loses their footing, tripping on the last step and making both you and them fumble to the wet, concrete ground.

Your body shakes when the cool water of the alleyway seeps into your jeans. Seven coughs, rolls on their back, and lets out a sigh.

Blood is smeared across their face, their eyes are hazy, the blooming flower of blood grows larger across their stomach.

Your hands flail in front of you when you get on your knees, fingers shaking, lips shuttering. You feel the burning sting of tears. "Seven, what do I do? My phone is dead. We need to call an ambulance."

Seven groans. Coughs. Their hair turns damp when it sinks into a puddle by their face. "Stop...yelling."

"How can I stop?!" you cry. "I need to see it-" You begin to lift up their shirt but Seven stops you.

"No."

Anger replaces your previous fear. "Seven-"

"I don't want you to."

That hurts. Hurts more than it should in this moment. Seven is hurt, bleeding, and even now they don't want you to touch them, to care for them. Has everything been for nothing? Have all the years you two spent together meant nothing?

"You fucking asshole."

"What?" They burst up and groan, hissing and laying back down.

"I need to help you." The fear returns anew when Seven's eyes glide towards you slowly, their lips parted. Not from pain, but from slight surprise. "Please. I know you hate me. I know you have no reason to trust me. But please... I'm asking you to anyway." You bite your lip to hide the way it shakes. "Please let me help you."

It takes them a moment. They stare at you so long you feel like you're being judged. Then, in a move that shocks you even now, Seven nods and looks away.

"Go ahead."

You clear your throat, slowly peeling the shirt that sticks to the blood on their skin. Seven winces, and you let out a small sound when you catch the piece of glass lodged to their rib.

"Not bad," you try, wincing, "just a tiny piece. You'll be fine."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

You look at them, ready to shoot them a glare, when you see a small, amused smirk on their face.

"Shut up," you mumble, turning back to their wound.

As you inspect more of their skin, slick with blood, you catch their stomach heave when a small laugh leaves them. You look at Seven, quirking a brow. "You called me an asshole." They look at you. The blood still smeared all across their lower face, they look at you and laugh. "I'm about to die and you call me an asshole."

"You're not about to die," you say strongly and then quieter: "and you are."

Seven hums. "Maybe. Maybe you just bring it out of me."

"That's not helping," you mumble.

You move to lift their shirt higher when you feel a wet hand on your wrist. Seven's blood leaks from their fingers to your skin, but you hardly notice it. Not when they're looking at you with a face so soft it disarms your every defense. "I don't hate you."

Your heart rate quickens. "...You don't?"

They shake their head slowly, stifling a small grown with the movement. "How could I?" they mumble, but don't elaborate.

A sigh leaves them and they glide their gaze to the sky. The sound of an ambulance rings in the distance; the bartender must've called the cops.

"I don't hate you either," you say.

Seven says nothing, but their face twists into a satisfied smile, their eyes closing.

I never did.

and then seven dies. JUST KIDDING

[secretpostsposts]

I am forgetful, I forget things very often and my level of attention and retention of information is very low, in this lunto6 I think I have some problems, but I don't have for a specialist to confirm this, and today I forgot something that put me in a ridiculous situation.

And I decided that Branch would go through the same thing.

Branch doesn't sleep well and usually works very late on his inventions or his crazy traps, so it's very normal for Pop Village to see a sleep-dazed or hyper-conscious Branch walking around town, which is sometimes scary because he gets more paranoid than usual, or looks like a sleepy kitten who is glued to Poppy all day until he faints from it about the effort of being awake.

And sometimes during those lapses he forgets things, very easily, so this happens 2 weeks after his brothers are in his bunker, Branch hasn't slept well, for this or that, so he leaves the house very early forgetting that he had plans with his brothers, because of tiredness, and he ends up with his friends and he's very lost about some things because of the lack of sleep that not even coffee could wake him up well (mentally Branch curses his favorite drink for failing him).

So his brothers go looking for him when they can't find him in the bunker, Floyd finds him and Branch doesn't see him because he's behind him, so Floyd takes his shoulder and calls him; and BOOM, a sleep-deprived Branch is crying in Floyd's arm, yelling something about him coming back, it's more intelligible screams between angry, sad and happy, Floyd had to call John Dory to help him get Branch to the bunker because Clay and Bruce weren't there.

[ejunkiet]

nsfw preferences: angel, sweetheart and babe

am I rereading old fics and thinking about the wolf pack bois and their mates? perhaps. nsfw thoughts under the cut, aka the cheat sheet of a writer who has written many smutty fics on this:

Angel likes it intense. angel and david are a perfect complement to each other: biting is something they negotiated early on, and angel likes to tease, to be manhandled, overpowered and pinned, flirting with the edge of too much.

Sweetheart likes to lose control. this can be through submission, rough sex -- they like it when they can just let go of it all, surrendering control to someone they trust, and just exist for a while. they also like to tease, and turn the table on milo - they're a badass investigator, after all. (I need to write more smut with these two...)

Babe likes to be in control, which is a dynamic that works great with Asher. he's another one that likes it when he is taken out of his head and can just exist in the moment. ash also knows when babe needs that too, and when babe surrenders control completely, it's even sweeter, an act of trust. also, they're both horny as heck, all the time.