queued: i am in hell

what? junkrat? he’s such an insane, ugly– *trips* *thousands of pictures of junkrat spill from pockets* fuck these aren’t mine i swear! i’m just holding them for a friend i– *slips on pile of pictures* f uck no they’re not mine i really don’t like him i– *more pictures fall out as i fall to my knees, desperately trying to pick them up* hang on a sec jUST LISTEN

I haven’t been home in over a week and there is nothing but corn and cattle and fried food out here please save me

here take this as my sacrifice to the fakecation gods

Rain was a rare sight on Coruscant. Nothing grew that wasn’t tended to, and the artificial atmosphere did not produce what it was not programmed for, meaning a deluge was out of the question. Today being the exception, a day of remembrance.

He had never questioned how far out the rain fell, or for how long in the areas farther from the palace. On the building itself, the thunder boomed for the whole day, the Emperor locked away in one of the high turrets. It was best not to disturb him, his staff had learned during previous years. His bride, new and unknowledgeable, insisted upon climbing the many steps to his stronghold despite the warnings of her handmaidens and his advisors.

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The Songs of Distant Earth

Guess who just watched every episode of Voltron in three days for the first time??? Title is blatantly borrowed from a sci-fi book that I LOVE by Arthur C. Clarke. (Pls read it if you like serious sci-fi.) P.S. The two songs mentioned here are “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Israel “IZ” Kamakawiwo-ole, and “White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane, if you want to listen to them as you read. Which I would strongly advise, lol. 

Spoiler alert if you haven’t caught up yet.

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Keith is staring at nothing when the knock comes at the door. For a minute he stays right where he is: arms strewn idly at his sides, boots discarded at the foot of the bed, day clothes only half-exchanged for nightwear before he gave up and laid down a couple hundred tics ago. A couple more pass.

Slowly.

The knocker knocks again, no more or less insistently.

On the other side of the door, Lance is frowning. None of them are doing very well without Shiro. It’s been a full Terran month now since his disappearance, and the ship is slowly falling prey to the most dreaded of all fates: a return to normalcy. No one wants normalcy. They want their leader back. Their friend. Without his leadership each new partially drawn-up plan feels hollow and pointless. Without Shiro, Voltron is nothing more than a chicken running around with its head cut off. Ha, ha. Good one, Lance… Fighting the endless crushing void of depression with dark humor is a dubious coping mechanism, but hey, it’s all he’s got. It’s better than just waltzing straight into the void, y’know?

Speaking of which.

Lance gathers his resolve and knocks on the door in front of him for a third time. The alien metal is ice on his bare knuckles. None of them are doing well, but if you were to ask Lance, Keith is doing the worst.

He’s about to knock a fourth time when the door abruptly slides open. “H-hey buddy,” Lance says dumbly. He knows his grin must look like it’s scribbled on in crayon, but he can’t help grinning anyway. It’s all he knows. A childhood of lying through his teeth to younger siblings about the darker aspects of life, the universe, and everything (and a subsequent year in space lying through his helmet about the odds of survival to civilians midrescue) has trained him too thoroughly. Happy Face Mode is automatic.

“What?” Keith knows that everyone is probably concerned about his refusal to participate in anything beyond training and war meetings but he doesn’t really care. Most everyone has gathered that Keith wants to be alone. Most. Lance, however. Suffice it to say that Lance appearing in the middle of the night to try and goad Keith into god knows what is no new thing. The familiar cadence of this visit doesn’t make it any less annoying, though. “Alright,” he deadpans when a few more tics have passed without Lance moving or saying anything at all, “good talk,” and moves to close his door.

“Wait!” he blurts, and his arm is shoved through the door into Keith’s room, keeping him from touching the closing mechanism. “You weren’t sleeping, were you? No? Okay cool. I have something I wanna show you.”

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me: oh boy can’t wait till s4

this fucking side of my brain that i didn’t know i had: so i can make a video about it

me:

this fucking side of my brain that i didn’t know i had: a REACTION video

me:

I just wrote the outline and over-all story in keywords, single pieces of conversations that flew through my mind and the first two chapters for Left Brain Right Brain and I think I might be putting too much effort into it.

But considering I`ve been thinking for half a year about doing it, it might be not so bad.

I am in Rubberbrian hell

Imagine Ross goes through his whole Grump life knowing that he can get under the other’s skins but no one really affects him. Then Brian comes in and there’s this spark, like someone flipped a switch inside of Ross, one that Ross didn’t even know existed. 

There’s this weird energy between them, bright and charged and Ross doesn’t know what it is or how to deal with it. 

Imagine slow, slow pining where they met all those years ago but Ross was more starstruck by Dan than Brian, and Brian was still more of an abstract idea “Dan’s friend in London” than a real person to Ross. 

Then Brian comes to California and he starts being around more and he and Ross become closer and Brian attends the first Monday Grump meeting where Arin deems them a good match for Grum/pca/de and Ross shyly slides up to Brian and is like “Guess we’re going to film together soon, huh?” and Brian nods, and maybe Ross is nervous because what if Brian doesn’t fit? What if the episodes are bad? What if the audience doesn’t like Brian? 

But then the episodes are good and recording is good and Ross ends up loving filming with Brian almost as much as he loves filming with Barry (and he LOVES filming with Barry) 

Then all the sexual jokes start and the two of them are breathless and a real interest is stirring in them but neither will acknowledge that because they both think the other would never ever be interested. 

Imagine Dan seeing them grow closer, and he watches with muted interest as one of his best friends (Brian) and someone he’s so close to (Ross) have this palpable chemistry. It’s strange but it works somehow and Dan maybe takes Brian aside when they tour or travel or do shows to kinda try and bring it up. 

Then imagine they finally do kiss right before Brian leave for Oregon to sign CD’s for two weeks and there is no time to talk about it, and no way in hell can this be discussed over distance on the phone. So they both fret about it. 

Dan being like “So, Ross?” 

And Brian being like “I really like him, man.” 

“Cool, just…be safe with him?” 

“Dan, I’d never hurt Ross. At least not on purpose.” 

And Ross is talking to Barry and he’s a fumbling mess over

“He’s too good for me, too smart for me, why would he want me?” 

And Barry is like “You’re damn blind if you think Brian doesn’t want you.” 

Then they see each other again when Brian comes home from Oregon and Brian barely has an “Hey-” out of his mouth before Ross is kissing him fierce and complete.