are your dreams in panfocus now too?

rocky always yells “enrichment for grace! enrichment for grace!” when he has a new invention to make the humans time more interesting on erid. grace, while appreciative, replies ‘I know I’m in a zoo enclosure but could we maybe not call it that? I feel like a bear getting thrown a pumpkin covered in peanut butter.’ rocky simply gives him a thumb, not wanting to explain that a significant amount of the population sees grace as the celebrity savior scientist who rocky keeps as a controversially young trophy wife and publicly lavishes in gifts

he's an engineer. he's an apex predator. he is two apples tall. he's a sentient spider-shaped beehive made of rock. he watched his friends die. he can't take a compliment. he piloted a 23-crewed spaceship to a star 10ly away completely on his own and knowing nothing of relativistic physics. he talks in whale song. he was stranded in space for 46 years. he got distracted during first contact cause he was fucking with a tape measure. he's older than the united states of america. he loafs like a kittycat :]]]] it should've been him. it should've been him. it should've b

Book Rocky is so, so chewy because he's this deeply logical genius who doesn't let his emotions make choices for him (or so he tells himself, because it ends up being very easy to find a cold hard reason to do most everything he does), and doesn't like to linger on what he's been through even though it keeps making its way into casual conversation, and is so blase about experiencing the closest thing to hell his home planet has probably ever heard of but also so clearly traumatized and terrified and haunted but there's still the mission, and there's still the possibility of getting home with a solution so he has to keep himself together and be level headed and calculating and he does that. he does that very well. But then there are moments, like Adrian and the oxygen and Grace missing their timings and the leak and the tunnel and realizing that one of them has to die, where it slips, and he breaks, and he can't make it make sense it a way that's detatched from him and his pain and his fear and his love, and he acts on them. And it nearly kills him every time, because he should know by now that space doesn't care about anything but logic, but he forgot that for a moment among the blaring alarms and the deafening pound of Grace's heartbeat and the searing smoking cold and the silence and the silence that was all he knew for so many years, and it doesn't matter that he's been holding everything together for decades, because one mistake is all it takes, one bad risk, one terrified impulse, to undo everything.

#HE'S LITERALLYYYYYYYY HOLDING ON BY THE TINIEST HAIR BUT BY GOD HE HOLDS IT#and the counterweight to that tension is loyalty and duty and the counterweight to that tension is guilt and SHAME!!!!#cataclysmic amounts of shame if he ever actually let himself lose control#guy who recoils from open displays of sympathy. guy who would snap “don't PITY me” if he was holding himself this👌much less in check#GUY WHO CANONICALLY PUNCHES WALLS IN ANGER. IT IS IMPORTANT TO ME THAT BOOK ROCKY PUNCHES WALLS IN ANGER

trent reznor is like life fucking sucks this is kinda like sucking dick which I will now begin to describe in detail

Nothing has done quite so much damage to my internal vocabulary as the construction #MyNoun. I don't remember if it was from that "tour of my jar, this is my twig #MyTwig" or if it was from "inappropriate attachment to objects, my tuube #MyTuube" but either way it was one of you fuckers on here. I do it every time there's my noun #MyNoun