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#also yeah here's a lot of not really vague info
idontdrinkgatorade · 10 months
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HELP I TOLD MY MOM I HAD A MEMORY OF VISITING ROMANIA (where my bio mother is from) AND SHE CAME BACK TO MY ROOM AND WAS LIKE. WHAT SPURRED THIS MEMORY? HAVE YOU CONTACTED YOUR GRANDMOTHER? HAS SHE CONTACTED YOU?
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mulberrimouse · 3 months
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This fic was supposed to be short and simple and stay like that but I got a little carried away...
Info and warnings!!: Friends to lovers, Andrew x Reader, no smut but HEAVY making out and teasing as well as cursing. Lots of praise and devotion, body worship. (Obviously. this is Andrew we're talking about), light degrading if you squint. Let me know if I missed anything!
Also, apologies for any spelling mistakes!
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Oh, Halloween. Your favorite holiday. No obligation to get people gifts, scary movies, dressing up, so many different parties (only if you want), and candy. Tons of candy. You've always had a big sweet tooth so it surprises nobody when you go all out on buying bulk bags to keep around your house.
Speaking of bags of sweets, you were digging around in a bag you'd just gotten when your closest friend Andrew shot you a message.
"Hey, sweetie. When should I be over?"
As his name popped up on your screen, you tried not to let the term "friend" get to you. You've knon Andrew for quite some time now and have been head over fucking heels for him for most of it. He was always attractive but god help you. He was funny in a uniquely Andrew way, he was beyond kind and intelligent. He always tried his best to make time for you, even on tour. He was the sweetest man you'd ever met. And "sweetie". Lord the things that nickname did to you. He started calling you that after the 6th or 7th time he found a stash of candy in your cabinets.
"Around 7! I don't wanna stay up too late."
He liked the message and, you assumed, got ready for the party. It was a lowkey costume party with some drinks. You weren't a fan of huge parties but you enjoyed seeing your friends a lot. You spend around the kitchen, cleaning and setting out different liquor and alcohol, as well as some food and non-alcoholic drinks. Once it was all set up, you went upstairs to go put ok some makeup and the Freddy Cruger costume you picked out. You were elated when you found it. It was simple but cute.
--
Eventually, 7:30 rolls around and many of your close friends, as well as some of their own, are scattered around your house, talking and drinking. Someone took control of the speakers and put on some funky Halloween music that people started dancing to. There was still no sign of Andrew though. As you tried to stop yourself from anxiously checking your phone every 2 minutes, a vaguely familiar face popped up in front of you.
"Hey Y/N! It's David, from Clarissa's birthday. How have you been?"
"I've been okay!! I'm pretty busy with school and work. I'm happy that there's finally a break, though!"
"Yeah, yeah I can imagine. Anyway, who are you here with?"
"Nobody, actually!"
"Ohhhh... So no boyfriend or anything?"
You mentally roll your eyes but try to keep a polite smile. He's not Andrew, but he isn't too bad you suppose. It's just uncomfortable because you don't know him all that well. He's just a coworker of Clarissa's. However, it could he good. Maybe it'll help you move on. You can't just spend your time following Andrew like a lost puppy, right?
Right as you're about to tell him that you're single at the moment, someone else walks over.
"Hey, sweetheart! Sorry I'm late. The face paint took a while to dry."
You turned to see Andrew standing next to you. You didn't even respond before you leaned into him and gave him a big hug.
"Andy! I was worried about you." You looked up at the face paint he had done and nearly stopped breathing. White paint covered his face while black outlined and extended his lips, as well as surrounding his eyes with sharp, long points at the bottom. He was Eric Draven from The Crow. His hair was in a low messy bun of curls and he had a wide smile on his face. Seeing him pushed the idea of moving on out of your head entirely.
"You really are sweet, huh? There was no need to be worried."
You blush slightly and look down before turning back to David. Andrew looked at the table next to your scanning over the drink options as David began to talk.
"So, no boyfriend then?"
As soon as it left his mouth, Andrew coughed and glanced at him. You started to talk, wanting to explain that you weren't looking for anything but before you could say anything, one of David's friends called him over. He told you that he'd come find you later before he walked away.
--
For the next few hours, you and Andrew were practically attached to each other. He always had his hand in yours or around your waist. He also made sure to tell you not to drink too much because he knew how much you despised being hung over. Luckily, as the night passes, you managed to stay at a comfortable, tipsy point, not full on drunk.
Not so luckily, though, you found yourself having to make sure you weren't staring at Andrew for too long. Whether it be his hands holding his glass, or his eyes crinkling when he smiled. The worst was when he had his hand secure on your waist. You so badly wished it meant more than it did.
Unbeknownst to you, Andrew was feeling the exact same way. He kept glancing at you, his breath getting caught in his chest when you leaned into him or looked up to speak. He was hyper aware of the warmth of your body against him. Everything he wanted to do to you kept flashing through his mind and he quickly got more antsy. As he gave almost all his focus to not getting hard right behind you, you were blissfully unaware, just happy that he could be there. You were having a really good time until you felt him shift away from you.
You looked up at him, confused.
"Are you okay, Andy?"
He nodded and smiled down at you, so you turned around, unintentionally brushing your ass against him. You felt him through his pants and immediately, you felt yourself get hot. You definitely didn't want to assume that it was because of you, but just the idea make your legs weak. You decided to press yourself against him lightly and you felt his hand on your waist tighten and he pulled you closer, slightly aggressively. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
"We're going to go upstairs."
He led you up the stairway and partially into the hall. His original plan was to go all the way to your room but he was too impatient. Before you even got close to your door, he yanked you to the side and pressed you up against the wall. He stared down at you, his breathing heavy and his eyes wild. He leaned down to be at eye level with you, his lips ghosting over yours. You felt his breath as he spoke.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Andrew."
"Oh... Is that so?"
You giggled nervously and nodded with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?" He was making you a little light headed but you still understood the actual question. He wanted to make sure that you wanted this. You wanted him. You nodded again and gave him your best doe eyes when you wrapped your arms around his neck to try and pull him closer to you.
"No no darling. Use your words for me. I need to hear it."
"Please Andy... I want you."
He let out a low hum and his eyelids fluttered shut before he slammed his lips into yours. His left hand was gripping your hip and clawing at you, almost ferally, sure to leave marks while his other was cupping your face. Both your arms were wrapped around his neck but one snaked it's way up into his hair. You tugged at his roots and his hips bucked forward into you. Groans and whimpers were flowing steadily from the both of you. He slotted one of his legs between yours and you ground down.
You let out a moan, slightly muffled by his lips against yours. You pulled away to catch your breath. You kept moving your hips and a loud whine escaped you. He smiled down at you and used his left hand to push more pressure down.
"Good girl... Needy little thing. So pretty."
You whimpered and threw your head back against the wall.
"Fuck Andrew. Please- I need you..."
"Ohhh sweetie. Want me to fuck you with everyone down stairs?"
"Pleasepleasepleaseplease!"
"Shhhhhhh baby... Calm down."
He removed his leg and you nearly fell to the ground. He held you up and got down on his knees once he was sure you were steady. He lifted your sweater and started kissing across your stomach. Both of his hands now gripped your thighs and pulled you closed to him. He pushed your legs apart slightly and pressed his face into your clothed pussy.
"Fuck, need you so bad baby. So pretty. Just wanna fuck you and fuck you and fuck you. You want that? Hm?"
Your hands shot down and weaved through his hair so you could yank his hair back.
"Andrew. Please. Right now. I need you."
He grinned, his pupils dilated so much the color was nearly gone. After standing up, he kissed you again and grabbed your hand to lead you down the hallway...
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atinylittlepain · 3 days
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Little Pinch
nurse!marcus pike x f!reader
she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.
wordcount | 3.3K
content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls
a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless
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Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 
It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 
The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 
If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 
“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 
“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 
“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 
“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.
“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 
“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 
“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”
“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.
“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”
“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 
“Do you live around here?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 
“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.
“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 
“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 
“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”
“Do you have a golden retriever?”
“What?”
“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 
“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 
“Great name.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?
“Alright, that’s the last one.”
“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.
“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 
“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 
“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–
“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 
“You feeling okay?”
“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 
“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 
“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That you had to deal with that.”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”
“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 
“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 
“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 
“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 
“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 
“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 
“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 
“Ma’am?”
“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.
“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 
“How have you been since we– you, well–”
“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 
“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 
“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”
“No?”
“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”
“I was not nervous.”
“You weren’t?”
“Nope.”
“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”
“What thing?”
“The pretty thing.”
“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 
“So, you do live around here then?” 
“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”
“I do.”
“Nice, nice.”
“Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Wow.” 
“What? I’m making conversation.”
“You’re still not very good at it.”
“I’ll keep working on it for you.”
“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”
“What kind do you think I get?”
“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”
“Somehow I feel insulted.”
“Well.”
“You’re not even right either.” 
“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 
“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”
“What? It’s a classic.”
“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 
“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 
“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”
“Thank you, thank you.” 
“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”
“Yeah, we’re not bad.”
“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”
“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 
“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 
“I might be free on Saturday.”
“I might also be free on Saturday.” 
“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”
“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 
“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 
“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 
“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.
“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 
“Kinda weird, you know.”
“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”
“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”
“So, Saturday?”
“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 
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Translating Killjoy Names
The Fabulous Killjoys live in the American Southwest outside L.A. if u try to tell me that they're not all a little Chicano imma be mad. I say they get spanish names too bc i love translating.
There’s a quote that’s like “you’re never translating literally between just two languages, you’re also talking about the third thing that the original phrase actually meant” and Killjoy names got a lot of connotations and meaning behind them ESPECIALLY when they’re referencing other stuff. So without further ado:
Jet Star -> Estrella Oscuro
There's a couple different connotations of the word 'jet', notably as a specific type of plane or the color descriptor 'jet-black'. There's also some lesser connotations about elegance, usually as an offshoot of the two more common meanings. Which to use here in terms of translating to get the point of it across?It’s actually unclear bc we got little information about why the killjoy names were chosen or the associations they were going for (both in terms of in the danger days universe and outside of it). I went with the 'jet-black' connotation here. Jet is a kind of dark rock, and where we get the phrase ‘jet-black’ from. Literally Estrella Oscuro means 'dark star', and I think that is a really cool killjoy name as well as an acceptable translation bc it keeps the sense of 'wait, these words go together but WHY.
Fun Ghoul -> Demonio Divertido
This translation is both easy and difficult. Right off the bat, you can do Demonio Divertido, literally Fun Demon (the word demonio means demon, yeah, but also has wider connotations for monstery things like Ghouls.) HOWEVER. This is one of the killjoy names we got an additional info for-another reason it was picked was because it sounds vaguely like ‘fanculo’ or ‘fuck you’ in Italian. Finding a spanish translation that also sounds like an insult in another language actually makes my job harder so we’re sticking with Demonio Divertido until I come up with something better.
Party Poison -> Maria Mata
Similarly, the direct translation of Party Poison would be Veneno Festivo. BUT Party Poison is also a slang term for molly/MDMA/ecstasy. Again, finding a Spanish term that keeps the idea of “killing your fun” WITH the added connotation of having the same name as a drug makes translating more difficult. Do ya use the spanish slang terms for molly, which vary but include extasis, pastis or Maria? A fun way to do it could be Maria Mata, aka “Molly Kills” going off slang terms, and I like that one because it keeps the idea of something/someone fun also fucking you up.
Kobra Kid -> El Hijo de Serpiente
The Kobra Kid translated literally is El Hijo de Serpiente, and I have no idea if there’s any deeper meaning behind that choice so we’re gonna stick with it.
Maybe I'll do more later?
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Hello! I have come asking for you to info-dump about the the modern human au. I full of brain rot of them (especially after the last thing you posted about them, damn) Maybe you can tell us a bit more Sally!!
lucky for you, i've been full of that good ol brainrot As Well! thoughts! feelings! ideas! i got em!
so since we're already on the subject of the Crash Arc, allow me to expand on it for a moment before i get to Sally Thinkings! if you've read the snippet, you may have noticed the extent of Wally's injuries was not listed yet. well! he got messed up with a capital F! since it's fiction and i'm god in this scenario, i'm veering slightly away from realistic damage, immediate & lasting. bc lets be real. if i stuck to "this is as realistic as i can make it", then Wally would be aaaaaabsolutely fucked. it was a bad crash in a very unsafe vehicle at high speeds. like - this is what happened. a drunk driver hit Home going 70 down the freeway. swerve, fishtail, tumble down a (small, shallow, really its more like a glorified ditch) ravine with trees and rocks and shit on it. absolute miracle that Wally didn't die in the crash, let alone during the solid half hour (slightly longer) he was trapped in Home before someone noticed the crash site and called emergency personnel. Wally "hanging up" on Barnaby was actually the impact jarring him so he slipped and hit the end call button. but yeah without going into technicalities and detail, Wally has some lasting damage in his dominant hand. It takes extensive physical therapy for him to be able to paint/draw again at the same level he had been at. the hematoma hadn't done a lot of brain damage that wouldn't resolve itself with time. in my mind, when Wally wakes up in the hospital, for a few days he's very confused and his memory is shot. he'll wake up, interact, then go to sleep, but when he wakes up again its like waking up for the first time again. he just can't retain memories for a bit. he's got some severe brain fog. his mood is also kinda fucked with - he's uncharacteristically irritable with low patience, etc. these are all things that clear up with time, but in my mind Wally has chronic migraines going forward. bad ones! and there are days where it's harder fr him to concentrate. and yk. a teeny bit of chronic pain where his shin bone was pinned back together and where his hand was essentially crushed. but other than that he's fine going forward! good days and bad days!
but enough about that! You Want To Hear About Sally!
i imagine that she becomes quite successful in the theater industry. i'm not too familiar with it myself, so i'm gonna be uh. Vague about it? but she starts her own theater troupe - it's a bit of a commute from home base to the town she works in, where the theater is located in, but she makes it work! of the group, she's probably away more than any of them. working on shows, traveling to work on other ones - i like to think she's been on Broadway! she probably has had opportunities to do tv/movie acting, but idk... i feel like Sally would be like "nah. live shows or nothing". maybe at some point she takes up voice acting gigs, as long as she can do them from home. she probably has her own little room-turned-VA-studio thing. idk how that works either! it seems right! but yes Howdy's store's automated messages and advertisements are in Sally's voice. she's probably picked up a temporarily modeling gig here and there.
so Sally is very very busy. Poppy is supportive. everyone is, and they all love to help out when they can - and reel Sally in when the "stardom" starts to get to her head. they do their best to acclimate to occasionally getting jumpscared by her voice in a grocery store or in. idk. fashion shoots. victoria's secret billboards. that last one was a joke! maybe. i think she would.
i also like to imagine Sally like... getting some sort of award and then spending a solid five minutes naming her friends, thanking them with specificity, and then plugging their own stuff. they probably have a rotation for who accompanies her as her plus one for events and parties she may or may not be invited to. she's not like... a Big celebrity but! she's Known and Liked! she has Connections! i like to imagine her and Wally looking dapper as fuck at a Venue...
so the friend group typically stays together, with Sally going off to do her Things the most. she makes sure to schedule time to be with her friends and girlfriend/wife/Poppy between work and gigs and etc. she somehow finds a balance with Ease. or apparent ease... someone get this girl a vacation...
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evakant · 9 months
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WHAT is ORV. I'm trying to figure out what you're obsessed with rn
ORV is a story about a reader and about the story that specific reader is obsessed with (of which he is the ONLY reader btw) but it's also a love letter to you the reader (if you do read it) and it's about the life-saving nature of stories in and of themselves and it's also about how innate it is to want to save each other, and how yes, maybe you can do it alone but you don't have to because there are people around you who want to help.
i would say it's about sacrifice and love and saving the world by saving one another and also dooming the world to save a single person and it's about your loved ones' happiness as the ultimate goal and it's about letting people in, reaching back when they reach for you.
it's about knowing that a lot gets lost in translation when talking to other people (especially those you care about) and also about knowing that it's worth it to try anyway.
ORV is about going through life so damn sure that you want to die, that you could just disappear tomorrow and be glad, and then finding out that maybe, actually, what you've wanted the entire time was to live. and it's about the people who love you trying their damn best to keep you alive until you realize that on your own.
and some people say it's a copout to say "[blank] is about love" because it's a vague, all-encompassing comment that doesn't really say anything but believe me when i say that ORV is about love, in any and all forms you can imagine, and not even just between people but for things too—the love you have for anything that might keep you here on this earth for at least one day longer.
unfortunately i am actually not qualified or eloquent enough to really say what ORV is without tripping over myself, but there's this wonderful post by @ot3 that explains everything so beautifully it makes me cry because yeah, yeah ORV really is that perfect. the characters, the meta, the dynamics, the pace, the worldbuilding, the themes!!
ORV is a webnovel (which has already been translated in its entirety). there is also a webtoon out but i have no personal interest in it, though i know a lot of people enjoy it!
here are some links:
info carrd (<- links to everything else are here, including the webtoon and the korean raws)
epub carrd (<- this is the copy i read and am familiar with)
as always, PLEASE READ ORV <3
EDIT: also if you were just curious then i'm sorry for the word vomit, but if you DO start orv, even if you personally don't mind spoilers, i would recommend going in as blind as possible. i was able to read all of it knowing only what's in the summary and every little bit of it blew me away. it doesn't really lose its charm and power if you know things in advance, but still!
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thefourchimes · 10 days
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lots of encanto AUs i want to talk about so here you go
so uh, i've been brain rotting and hyperfixating on encanto for a bit now, and its been very fun
tho i've barely talked about some of the ideas and aus i have and want to share, so i guess i want to do that now in a way, so uh... (mirabel voice) lets go lets go
List of AUs here:
Time Travel AU
Big Hero 6 AU
[Redacted] AU (not the au's actual name, hidden for reasons)
Ghost Cocoon AU (fusion idea au i came up with of the cocoon au by @raefever and ghost grandchildren au by @jerseyk112, both found in @gamerbearmira's blog)
Giftless Grandkids AU (idea by anon, also found in @gamerbearmira's blog)
Undertale AU
Gravity Falls AU
P.S. some of these au ideas are not originally mine, but i've contributed to them in some way, and i've credited and tagged the creators
More information of the AUs found below
1. Time Travel AU
first au i've ever thought about, cool hue sisters centered, because i love them sm and i was still finding my footing in encanto and the fandom when i thought of this au, and yeah
its where isabela and luisa get sent back to the past after going after and protecting mirabel as casita falls
i gained the idea after seeing how the two older sisters were still so terrified of alma and disappointing her that they couldn't stand up for mirabel and for themselves, but as casita was falling, they weren't about to let their baby sister go, not after everything
despite this being the first au, its also still really vague and barebones in a sense, not much planned yet and its all just vibes, plus i just really wanted a cool sisters au because i love them sm
2. Big Hero 6 AU
ah yes, big hero 6 au, my beloved
came to be when i figured out bear aka @gamerbearmira's reference in one of her encanto one shots, the scooby doo one where they got arrested, and she used bh6's aunt cass' rant for alma's rant in said one shot, and then it led me to realize the potential of encanto big hero 6 au with bear, so that was fun
there's a post in bear's blog for the au, so you can check it out
there's a bunch more info that we haven't shared yet, but it's all written up in the docs for it, so yesyes
honestly been a bit since i touched the au personally, as i keep getting distracted by the other ones below
but yeah, planning on exploring of this au soon <3
3. [Redacted] AU
ah yes, this au, the 120 and counting pages one in my docs
and the 120 pages are mostly just details and planning for the au, not a single written thing yet
this au is not called redacted au, but the name itself is redacted because the word itself is a bit of a spoiler and im still trying to find a better name for it in general
i have no idea how to explain this au
first thing to mention is how its very much inspired by Take Back the Kingdom by @optimistic-violinist and @impossiblefangirl0632 (sorry for the tag, i can take it out if you'd like) and i really really recommend this fic, its so so good and it changed my brain chemistry on so many levels
so yes, i really got inspired by this fic, and it will very much be shown in this particular au with some things and tropes, but ofc im doing my own spin on stuff and the details, and from what i have rn, i think it really evolved and is still evolving as time goes on
another thing to note about this is how the idea came to be because of TBTK inspiration and a dream i had on the day i was taking a metaphysics midterms exam (this is completely unnecessary to mention but oh well, i still remember that moment so vividly)
the dream impacted just exactly how this au is going to go
what is the dream about? you'll find out whenever i get to write this au
all i can say without spoiling much is that there are lots of memory shenanigans and angst, plus the very fun trope of "your found family is your actual family"
also once more, read take back the kingdom, very good fic, 11/10, much recommend, will reread again
4. Ghost Cocoon AU
this au is the fusion of the Cocoon au and the Ghost Grandkids au, both still found in @/gamerbearmira's blog
ghost grandkids au is from @jerseyk112 and cocoon au is from @raefever, and ofc bear has a lot of ideas and thoughts for these aus in her blog
i was rereading bear's cocooned fic for the 17123723507 time and while i was at it, i remembered the ghost grandchildren au, so i decided it would be pretty fun to fuse the two aus together in some way
and so i did (first ask, second ask)
basic premise of this au is really just the ghost kids' healing and them protecting their younger selves and their family
this fusion au interested me so much that it got to the point where i actually wrote a 3683 word first chapter of sorts(?) for this fusion au already (bear has seen it but i havent posted it at all)
planning on continuing it when i feel like it tho hehe
so yes its been wild with this one
5. Giftless Grandkids AU
giftless grandkids au, my beloved
just as the name says, au where all the grandkids are giftless
all i can say is everything and nothing changes all at the same time with this
this au was sent and suggested by an anon in bear's blog
this is also the one where bear and i went wild on for the past few days
pretty sure bear is gonna be writing this au, if im not mistaken? so its very exciting
there's a lot in store for this au and it'll be fun
6. Undertale AU
undertale au yesyes
not the type where the characters are these characters tho
this idea is where we'll be throwing the grandkids into the underground for an adventure of a lifetime!
so basically characters of one media meet characters of the other media type
and the kids are gonna be going through the plot of undertale, technically in frisk's shoes here
this au is still very vibes and not much planned, there's lots of potential to play around tho, so im thinking of exploring this at some point soon
7. Gravity Falls AU
gravity falls au this time!!
now this au is the one pure vibes one, absolutely zero planning or thoughts, just vibes and aspirations for it
not even sure if it'll be like the undertale au where characters of one media will meet characters of the other media or if it'll be characters from this media are gonna be these characters of that media in this au
i just thought it would be fun to have an encanto gravity falls au idea, but still dont know where it'll be going in general
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So that's about it, there's actually a few more ideas i havent mentioned yet, but let's just say these ideas are exactly like the gravity falls au vibing no planning, except much worse in a sense, so i have no idea what kind of footing there will be at all with those aus
but anyway, i digress, these are some of the ideas and aus i have and would love to share and write and uh, yeah
if you have any questions on these aus, feel free to ask if ever, my asks are open (this is the first time im saying this in a post omg help)
but anyway yes the brainrot and hyperfixation is real
if you got here to the end, congrats have a pic of my dog for your effort and dedication <333 see you around <3
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focsle · 1 year
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Hello! I don't know if this is exactly your wheelhouse, but I was reading about Fredrick Douglass and it briefly mentioned that he used a Seamans protection certificate in his escape from slavery; I was wondering if you had any thoughts/ info about these as it relates to Black seamen in the US, especially the South. If not, absolutely no worries! Love your blog.
Oh yeah, I went down a rabbit hole sometime back about seamen’s protection certificates in the context of what they meant for Black mariners and US Citizenship!
To summarize that above post, Seamen’s Protection Certificates spoke to the contradictory legal status of Black mariners in the antebellum US when naturalization was only accessible to white men. It’s a paper that says that one is a US citizen, but was not considered ‘valid’ documentation for accessing the rights of a US citizen. But for all intents and purposes, it still signaled that the man in question was indeed a citizen when abroad. This contradiction (as well as other legal contradictions) was leveraged by people fighting for access to naturalization and a full legal identity for African Americans.
But while the certificate did not truly grant citizenship to Black sailors, it still served as a form of protection both in states where slavery was law, as well as ‘free’ states, where the Fugitive Slave Act quickly destabilized any sense of security one might have there. The seamen’s protection certificates had only a brief vague description of the holder. As such, some free Black men would take the risk of loaning their papers out to those escaping enslavement who roughly matched the written description, similar to how States’ ‘free papers’ were also loaned out for the same purpose. As Douglass mentioned in his autobiography concerning his use of said papers:
“But I had one friend—a sailor—who owned a sailor’s protection, which answered somewhat the purpose of free papers—describing his person and certifying to the fact that he was a free American sailor. The instrument had at its head the American eagle, which at once gave it the appearance of an authorized document.”
Nearly 1/3rd of applications for seamen’s protection certificates were made by men of color because of the protection they afforded against being kidnapped into slavery. Even though there was a lot of backpeddling from officials saying that the protection certificates didn’t REALLY mean citizenship, it was still an official document stating someone’s freedom and thus had tremendous value in allowing a man to move freely through the world. Here’s an old but good article about seamen’s protection certificates in general that speaks a little more to that.
In the context of mariners in the South, here are some examples. This one, from the National Archives is for a man named William Wright, from Viriginia who applied for a certificate in New Orleans in 1810.
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And another from the collections of Mystic Seaport of a man named Jonathan Miller, born in New York but applying for the paper in Galveston Texas. The language is a bit different from the boilerplate seamen’s protection certificates like the one above, so I think it’s slightly different as a legal document—but still, in 1856, would hold the same sort of odd wobbly status.
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The museum’s interpretation of this was that it was likely applied for and used as a form of protection in moving freely through the South, rather than Mr. Miller specifically using it for a maritime purpose.
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weaselbeaselpants · 10 months
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The 'Quinton v Nebula'clique' drama
[[[ DO NOT BOTHER THE PEOPLE MENTIONED IN THIS POST]]]
I saw on Twitter that Quinton had filmed a response to one of his critics whom he had a more personable interaction with. After going through all the info laid out by non-biased, non Wikitubia sources that aren't gushing abt shit that doesn't matter, as well as I guess what we'll call the "opposing sides" here's what I can surmise:
A yt named FlowersGothic had some kind of parasocial interest in Quinton and really wanted to be his solo editor and more* irl
-> Quinton himself also has/had his own parasocial attachments to people, namely Lindsay Ellis and Sarah Zed, I think. I def remember how the two expressed publicly that they aren't into working with him after (I think???) he trauma dumped and was waaay to emotionally volatile when asking to be their friend, which naturally turned them away and creeped them out. Whether or not he was definitely creeping on either women is unclear but yeah I get why they were uncomfortable.
All parties involved here already know this, but it's not Lindsay and Sarah's responsibility for Quinton's validation or feelings of rejection. they don't have to be friends w him when they feel like he pushed their boundaries. I do feel like, frankly, a lot of these receipts are being presented as worse than they are by the 4chan/KiwiFarmers doing the digging...if Quinton's going to be called a creeper, it better be by the ppl he hurt and not randos who don't even like Sarah or Lindsay abt how they should feel...
-> Flowers took her job as editor waay too personally and also messaged Quinton drunk twice, on Halloween saying she wanted to be more than friends
-> Quinton said no. Like Ellis and Zed, he's not responsible for Flowers' feelings and validation, just her paycheck which he said did pay her fill on
-> Flowers did a 180 and said she now hated him, apparently blamed him for her emotional problems and state and started to compile a list of grievences she's had and spit that back at Quinton.
-> Flowers has been presenting these receipts as absolutes for awhile now
-> Quinton for the first time responds on his second channel to Flowers accusations; presenting his side and also saying Flowers' is using half-truths and sometimes straight up lying
-> Dan Olson and Lady Emily, friends of Lindsay and Sarah respectively have vague tweeted today very obviously abt Quinton. Don't know exactly what Olson said, but Emily def is implying that Quinton = bad
-> people are now wondering if Flowers is somewhat responsible the schism and that the 'Nebula Clique' is siding with her and other people's own biased thoughts against Quinton as fueled by their own less than positive circumstances with him.
It's sad. I haven't watched anything by Flowers. I think I would, actually, but these are some very heavy things she's accusing here and things she's being accused of. I don't actually know any of these people exactly, but none of them seem like liars -if anything I see Quinton as being a little bit waywaywaay too honest sometimes? Not understanding like Contrapoints, I guess, but you know- tmi?
As an outsider, this looks like a matter of a lot of hut feelings and neurodivergents' judging other neurodivergents' behavior based on their own bad experiences.
I hate calling the Nebula crowd a 'clique', tbh. As someone who is always on the outside of other friend groups and so know the feeling of jealousy and exclusivity, I think it's easy to just look as any gang of well-netted creators as a "clique" when they could very well just be protective of each other. Considering the bs Sarah and all the former TGWTG-folks had to deal with I get their apprehension of Quinton.
I also tho really get Quinton as someone dealing w similar issues as him, and I'd be heartbroken to find out he's lying or even just accusing someone else of lying.
Gosh I hope this blows over and gets resolved and doesn't reach the pos drama channels out there.
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feekins · 9 months
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here are my thoughts and things and whatever translation weirdness I find as I re-read ch 4 of Trigun Maximum vol 4!
(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)
this is interesting: Dark Horse's title for this chapter is "Den of Thieves" while the Overhaul's is "Den of Evil" 🤔
as Meryl's waking up, there's this panel where it looks like there's a curled-up winged insect on her thumb? for some reason, I always thought it was like...coming out of her skin...but now I think perhaps it was originally in her mouth...?
moving on - when Midvalley first speaks up (addressing Zazie), Dark Horse has him saying "Frankly, I'm surprised...that you had the idea of taking a 'hostage.'" the emphasis is put on the 'hostage' bit. this kinda makes sense in context, but it's still a little vague. the Overhaul's translation goes more specific, having Midvalley say "Frankly, I'm surprised...that you're the one with the idea of taking a hostage." the emphasis here is on the fact that it was Zazie who thought to take a hostage.
and then Dark Horse gets sillay 🤪
on the next page, the Overhaul has Zazie replying "Hostage? No. More like bait. But you are right, Hornfreak...this is not usually my way." Dark Horse's translation is p much the same, but with one key difference: "Hostage? Not quite. More like 'bait.' It is as you say, Bluesummers...this is not really my way." 🤣
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(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)
Dark Horse weird and vague. Overhaul more specific, and "a certain few other people" makes a lot more sense in context.
there's another interesting translation discrepancy as Hoppered is moving away from Meryl. Dark Horse has him saying to her "If you don't even know that much...killing you would be boring." meanwhile, in the Overhaul, it's "If you don't even know anything...then killing you would be meaningless."
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Dark Horse's translation had me thinking Wolfwood was talking about Hoppered wanting revenge on Vash, which? sounds like info Wolfwood wouldn't have been privy to? so, once again, the Overhaul's translation makes more sense - "it's time for us to get revenge on them for taking Meryl."
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(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)
the Overhaul's translation makes Zazie a lot more threatening here imo =u=
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honestly, Dark Horse, idk what to say at this point;;;;;
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looks kinda like Dark Horse did that thing where they put certain words in different speech bubbles here 🤨
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(...at least, I think the Overhaul is referring to Knives here...)
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kinda minor translation discrepancies here
there's another translation discrepancy as Wolfwood continues on the next page. Dark Horse has him saying "We're being pulled...along the blood-spattered road. That's my purpose." meanwhile, the Overhaul has "We're bein' dragged along this road...and I'll cover it all in blood. That's what I do."
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Millyyyyyyyyy 😭
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Wolfwood's bit is weirdly vague in Dark Horse. also idk, the Overhaul's translation of Milly's bit here makes her sound a lot more competent? and more assertive? to me, anyway.
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and yeah. Dark Horse leaving whole speech bubbles out and being weirdly vague, and the Overhaul being much more clear and making a lot more sense in context again 🥴
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Text
Seventh Year Bonus Scene 4
I just realized I can share this bit! This is from Chapter 9, right after Michael tells his siblings that yeah, he'll go back with them. The reason I didn't share it earlier is because I was leaning hard into Michael's narration and didn't want to show you guys what he was missing and also what he was giving off to his siblings.
Now that Chapter 10 has dropped, we can start to pull that curtain aside.
So! Here's the 4th bonus scene for Chapter 9! Appreciate your thoughts! :)
Bonus Scene 1
Bonus Scene 2
Bonus Scene 3
**
“Not now. You can go if you’d like, but I’ll follow later.” Michael didn’t even leave them time to respond before he flew off to Hogwarts.
Gabriel stared after him, confused and vaguely upset about the abrupt brush off. Where had that come from?
“What a dick,” he muttered, then stepped hastily to the side when an unimpressed unicorn head-butted his shoulder.
He’d thought Michael had been different, had picked up on that sense of weariness and grief at first. And, sure, they’d had that heart-to-heart on an asteroid in the middle of outer space, but for the most part Michael was…essentially as Gabriel remembered him.
Stoic, slightly cold despite the heat of his Grace, and a yes-man.
“Gabriel,” Raphael said reprovingly.
“What?” Gabriel huffed, taking the bag of magical sweets in hand. He’d been surprised when Michael had paid for the sweets rather than just whisking it all away, but he supposed that even Michael had to pick up some human customs after six years here. “You know it’s true, Raphael.”
“I’m sure he’s processing,” Raphael said. “He took it remarkably well.”
Yeah, Gabriel had to give Michael that. He’d been worried about telling Michael about having Created brand new souls. Michael had been dead silent with a blank expression, but then all he’d asked was…
All he’d asked was what their Father had to say.
Honestly, Gabriel had once been worried about that, too, but there were some who hadn’t even considered that (Gadreel being a prime example). And for Michael to hinge everything on that…
He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?
“If he’s processing,” Gabriel said eventually, “I don’t want to know what’ll happen when he’s done processing. We hit him with a lot of info.”
“It might not be what you’re thinking,” Raphael said. “There was a great deal Michael never let you see, Gabriel.”
“He showed it to you?”
“No.” Raphael shook her head lightly. “But last night… How much did you hear?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Gabriel admitted, since he’d wanted to give Raphael privacy. He’d had only a small eye on the conversation to make sure things didn’t go south.
“I caught something just now,” Samael said, rubbing briefly under nir eyes before looking back at Gabriel. “He…regrets.”
Gabriel sure hoped Michael had regrets. Everything that had happened and everything he did…regrets were the least of what Michael should have.
He abruptly remembered the flash of guilt and hurt from Michael yesterday after Gabriel’s comment about him sitting on his hands. It had been sharp enough that Gabriel had felt guilty about the jab, but not guilty enough to apologize because it was true.
Michael had sat on his hands long enough through the years, shouldering off his duties to Gabriel and doing basically nothing aside from plotting the damn apocalypse and ordering the wiping of their siblings.
But for someone who felt regret, Michael sure didn’t look like he did.
No, he still carried that air of cold superiority. Gabriel had honestly thought Michael would kill Pansy Parkinson for what she’d said if she didn’t apologize properly. The only reason he hadn’t stepped in had been because Michael’s two friends hadn’t seemed quite so alarmed (Malfoy had looked more hurt at Parkinson’s words than focused on Michael).
Michael hadn’t protested either. The only sign of actual emotion he’d given had been when Malfoy had seemed ready to do something entirely un-wizardlike.
It was still disbelieving that Michael had friends – let alone human friends.
“I could have told you that,” Raphael said to Samael, unimpressed. 
“He didn’t seem very regretful just now,” Gabriel noted, glancing to where Michael had been standing.
“No, he…” Raphael hesitated. “He was different last night. He…apologized.”
Gabriel blinked. He’d never known Michael to apologize. “He did?”
“He has regrets,” Raphael said shortly. “The same regrets I do.”
Gabriel breathed in, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out.
“I’m so tired, Gabriel.”
Michael had spent practically all this time in their Father’s Grace, in that place where angels went after dying if they were saved, and he still felt tired.
Gabriel wasn’t even entirely sure what Michael had gotten up to here aside from apparently killing Voldemort so Harry Potter didn’t have to. And hadn’t that been a surprise to hear.
“Well, looks like he’s coming back with us,” Gabriel said when no one else spoke. He had the niggling sensation that it all seemed too easy.
“Yeah,” Samael said slowly, “guess he is.” Ne seemed doubtful.
Gabriel glanced at nem. “What?”
“I’m just…a bit surprised.” Samael shrugged. “You’ve seen him around his friends, haven’t you?”
“A bit.” Michael had amassed what looked like quite a crowd here. And Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure what was up with the Malfoy boy…
“I’m just saying,” Samael said, frowning slightly, “I haven’t seen him like that in a long time. He wouldn’t listen to me at all. He wasn’t fighting me because he wanted to. It felt more like he was doing it because he had to.”
“That’s a difference from before?” Gabriel asked.
Samael sighed. “He never wanted to fight me, Gabriel. Not back then and not during the apocalypse. This didn’t feel any different, but he also felt really determined. That was new.” Ne made a face. “And then there were his friends. They were also weirdly determined to step in, but Michael was just as set on keeping them out. He kicked me into a lake,” ne complained.
“How are you even surprised?” Raphael sounded exasperated.
“I really shouldn’t have been, but now I’m more surprised by his friends. And that he seems just fine with leaving them behind.”
Gabriel might have said that perhaps they weren’t really friends. Perhaps it had just been convenient for Michael to make nice with them while he was the only angel here.
But that was absolutely ridiculous. Michael could have just not done anything on Earth at all. But he had. And he’d…made friends.
So perhaps he’d changed a little.
“Has he changed?” Gabriel asked, directing the question to Raphael.
Raphael considered the question, tilting her head back. “I think so,” she said. “Changed enough to regret, certainly. He wasn’t in a place for that before. Neither of us were.” She met Gabriel’s eyes. “He hid himself from me as well,” she said quietly. “There were doubts he had back then that he never shared. The same doubts I held but which I also held back.” She smiled mirthlessly. “You wear masks, Gabriel. Michael has his own.”
Gabriel had never pictured Michael as the type to wear masks. But then…
He had never spent the most time with Michael, had he? Samael had been closest, and then it had been Raphael. But as for Gabriel…
When he cast his memories back to the early days, he remembered Michael as somewhat distant. He had been there, but he’d also left Gabriel mostly to Samael, only occasionally expressing some kind of disapproval or dismay or mild amusement at their antics.
But masks…
Michael hadn’t seemed to wear any when Gabriel had first seen him here. He’d been at once exhausted, pained, bewildered, and…happy. But sometime within the last day those emotions had disappeared, replaced by the older brother Gabriel was so familiar with.
Was it all a mask?
Gabriel couldn’t read Michael.
“So…does he want to leave or not?” The question left his lips before he realized he was even considering it.
“I don’t know,” Raphael admitted.
“You were the one saying he wears masks!”
“Just because I know it’s a mask doesn’t mean I know what’s under it!” Raphael sounded irritated. She turned to Samael. “What about you?”
Samael startled, head jerking up. “Ahh…that’d be a no.”
“Really?” Raphael pursed her lips. “You were closest to him—”
“A long time ago, Raphael.” Samael sounded tired. “He’s changed since then. And we didn’t exactly talk while we were in the Cage.” Ne grimaced, looking down to the grass. “I have no idea what he’s thinking, and he wouldn’t tell me either. He doesn’t trust me.” Nir shoulders slumped.
Gabriel would have been extremely surprised if Michael had decided to trust Samael. “Let’s give him some more time on that.”
Samael smiled weakly. “Sure. Besides, he’s coming with us, isn’t he? He could have said no.”
“Yeah,” Gabriel said slowly, something still niggling at him, “he could.”
He could so easily find out what that niggling was, but he’d already decided not to go that route.
Exhaling slowly, Gabriel pushed down the newly expanded part of himself that granted that omniscience.
He’d find out what it was later.
Hopefully it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.
“You do realize,” Raphael said, “that you told him nothing of your friends. The same friends who are now a mixture between angel and human.”
Gabriel winced. “Ah, uh… I’ll tell them to hide?”
Raphael shot him an unimpressed look. “For how long?”
“Until I tell him?” Gabriel was not chasing after Michael now. “I can’t exactly rescind the invitation now, can I?”
“You could,” Samael said brightly. “But he’d probably want to know why.”
Ugh. Gabriel knew it had been too easy.
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finniestoncrane · 1 year
Text
Your One True Nemesis
Chapter 5: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 1.9k i've been saving this stupid pun for like 5 months so shut up about it and let me live ;-; 💚🔧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: look i'm sorry i need to build up the lore and the relationship, you should have known there would have been SOMEWHERE that i had to put in shit about tools and i'm sorry about it
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Your bed was comfortable, your room was warm, and the price for rent, having to spend every waking moment with Edward, was still surprisingly reasonable in your eyes. Although, not as perfect and wonderful as you imagined it might have been. A week ago, you would have willingly paid for this experience. Getting to work with the Riddler, Edward Nigma himself. Being around him, asking him questions, learning from him, having him take you under his wing, maybe developing a friendship or…
Whatever. It didn’t matter much now, because you realised that all wasn’t as rosy as thought. In the week since you moved in, you’d learned that Edward was indeed not lying when he had told you he was difficult to be around. You still hung on his every word, but unfortunately, most of his words were insults, condescending lectures, or various different ways of telling you to go away and leave him alone.
And where you thought you would be assisting with his amazing, at least in your eyes, inventions and projects and schemes, what it really amounted to was glorified maintenance work. And not maintenance of his machinery. You were in charge of maintaining Edward himself.
You cleaned, you cooked, and you managed his diary, paperwork, and orders. The things he couldn’t be bothered doing himself. That’s what it boiled down to. He tried to make it sound better than it was, that you were providing a service to him, allowing his brain to focus on the important things. But really, what it seemed Edward wanted, was a housewife without the emotion. An assistant, a cleaner, a personal chef. Someone to do the things he hated doing.
But you were learning a lot about him just for that alone. When you suggested that to him, however, he scoffed, putting down his tools and turning to face you to dish out your hourly insult.
“You’re entirely misguided if you even think you are capable of learning anything.”
“Mhm, yeah. I am though, so…”
You had resorted to being flippant in the face of his constant criticism, an easy task, since usually you were still deep down grateful that he was giving you the time of day.
“You’re only learning what I want you to learn. And you’ll only ever know what I want you to know.”
“Ok, well here’s a suggestion.”
He rolled his eyes and turned away from you, but you continued talking either way, knowing he would be listening.
“It might be worth you teaching me a little bit of something, anything, to be able to help a bit more. You know I’m capable of-”
“I don’t know that you’re capable of anything.”
“But you know everything about me… don’t you?”
“Yes, a small file to flick through I can assure you.”
“Either way! I think I can offer a bit more than just making your food like I’m a substitute mother.”
Facing away from you, Edward allowed himself a grimace at the notion, before he turned and pointed vaguely to the expansive and chaotic tool bench that sat against the wall on the other side of the work-space.
“Fine. You can pass me tools.”
“Oh… yep. I can… definitely do that.”
Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to the machine he was fiddling with in his hands. You hovered awkwardly, palms beginnings to sweat as you waited for his first demands.
“I need the calipers.”
You mouthed a silent ‘fuck’ before turning to the bench and looking for what you could only hope was a caliper, or calipers, and your hopeful guessing was interrupted by Edward.
“While you’re there, get the panel hacksaw too.”
“Please!”
You tutted and sighed, running your fingers over the peg board of tools, gazing blankly at the ones that lay cluttered over the desk.
“I would like them now, if that’s not too much trouble.”
“Well, maybe if it wasn’t such a mess over here, I’d be able to find things easier!”
You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, so focused on picking the right two tools, that you hadn’t heard Edward stomp up behind you.
“Perhaps you are better suited to doing nothing. I expected you to irritate me, not to completely waste my time.”
He snatched up the tools from the desk, walking away from you with a disgruntled sigh. Embarrassed and deeply disheartened, you left the workshop, unsure if Edward had even noticed you were gone. You flopped down on your back onto the beaten up sofa, quickly flopping over and burying your head into the stale scented fabric and letting out a muffled scream. You were aware that this would be hard, but you hadn’t thought it would be this bad.
It would be ok though. You were prepared to work for this, so you would learn the tools. You’d study them. You’d know exactly what the fuck calipers were the next time he asked. So for the next few days, you dutifully cleaned up after him and provided him with sustenance, spending your time scouring the manuals scattered around the place and testing yourself online, your capacity for memorising useless pieces of trivia proving far more helpful in this scenario than you thought it might.
Edward slept, not for long enough, but for at least four or five hours a night between usually two and seven in the morning, occasionally sneaking in a nap in the afternoon. Knowing this, surprisingly adorable, schedule, you were able to get some alone time in the workshop, taking stock of the tools there. Your education culminating in a display of your knowledge. Reorganising and tidying the workshop while Edward slept, likely fitfully and in disgusting sheets before retiring to your own bed, dirty and exhausted.
Definitely still tired, having only been allowed a few hours of sleep, you were wakened by the sounds of Edward’s yelling echoing through your shared ‘home’. Dragging your aching body from your room to the workshop, unwashed, unfed, and still slightly unawake, you could make out his complaints the closer you got. Rounding the corner, coming into his view, you stopped in your tracks as he pointed his finger at you, scowling.
“You!”
“That would be me, yes.”
“You…”
He growled the word, dragging it out as he remained, unblinking, staring you down as though he were deciding when to pounce for the attack.
“What’s wrong?”
“You! You are what is wrong. You’ve touched everything, and you’ve hindered me yet again.”
“You just got up.”
“And I could already have achieved more than you will in your entire life had I been able to find everything.”
“Everything is in the same area as it was before.”
“But it’s in a different place, you fiend.”
“Well, what is it that you need?”
“I need my screwdriver.”
Smiling to yourself, the confidence visible on your face and grating Edward as he watched you, smug grin mirroring the one he often wore.
“You’ll have to be a bit more specific, Eddie. I mean, you have the Phillips and the torx, or the torque even. Flathead? Pozidriv? Hex? Square? Or perhaps you would rather the insulated ones if you’re working on something hazardous, which you always are.”
As you spoke, his face softened, mouth open slightly as he narrowed his eyes. Obviously impressed, but avoiding having to compliment your sudden gain of knowledge, he dismissed you with a grunt and headed back to the workbench to rifle through the drawers.
“Since you’re suddenly so smart, perhaps you might find it helpful to get the torque for me.”
Stepping beside him, you opened a drawer and handed him the torque screwdriver without breaking eye contact with him, offering him a genuine smile. Snatching it from you, he began to work on the machine he had been tinkering with for the past week.
Despite his refusal to speak to you for the first four hours of the day, short of him barking orders about what tool he needed, you had a sense that he was actually very pleased with you. Edward, who had let it slide that you had called him Eddie, surprisingly, was managing to work much faster. And you were learning so much from watching him, as you had hoped you would. Everything was coming together, at least sort of. Until you pre-emptively passed him a tool that you expected he needed.
“Oh… good girl. Can I get a wrench, too?”
“Th-th… thank you… I… the wrenches are… which one…”
You froze up completely, freaking out over how your body had physically responded to his compliment. That’s what it was. He had complimented you.
Good girl.
Shivering at the already embedded memory, you apologised.
“Sorry, Eddie- Edward! Mister… NIgma, sir. Wrench. Wrench.”
As you turned to look for one, you heard him snickering behind you.
“I won’t compliment you again. I can go back to the insults if it makes you react like that.”
You sighed, louder than you meant to. Eddie stood up, standing back and catching your eye, stretching his hand out to show you what he had been working on.
“Done. You can forget the wrench. I told you I didn’t need your help.”
Taking a long look at the large cube, you tried to pretend you knew what you were looking at, but instead opted for honesty.
“What is it?”
“It’s a trap.”
“A… trap… for who?”
“Who do you think?”
“Batman?”
“Of course. I intend to leave some clues around for him, perhaps some riddles. When he reaches his idiotic hand inside to get them, it’ll snap shut.”
You looked at the daunting and misshapen metal box, knowing that any reasonable person, let alone ‘the world’s greatest detective’ would surely avoid it.
“How do you know he’ll fall for that? Surely he’ll realise it’s a trap? Are you sure you can bait him so easily?”
You spoke out of genuine concern for him. Eddie was isolated, and you weren’t sure that he was completely in touch with the reality of what Batman was capable of, though you would never state that to him directly.
“Ah, sweet idiot. I am practiced at this, you’re forgetting. I’m somewhat of a master baiter.”
“Fuck, Eddie.”
Holding your hand over your mouth, feeling the sting of the tears as you stifled the explosive laughter, you could see Eddie’s cheeks reddening.
“Grow up and remove your mind from the gutter, you infantile, lowest common denominator, imbecile.”
He turned, stomping through to the living space, calling out for you. His aggravated growl echoing in through to you, loud enough over your giggling.
“When you are done being so easily amused, you should get on to making some lunch.”
Trudging behind him, you took a look back over the workshop, rushing to tidy away the small pieces left around before you headed back to your menial tasks, and no doubt a further insulting dress down from Eddie now that you’d put him in a mood.
For all that he was intelligent, he was still so socially awkward, often stumbling over himself in conversation. It was endearing, humbling him enough that you could see hope that you might break through to some slightly lower level than the façade of the Riddler.
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Hiiiii!!!
The Hindi songs guy again (salaamat recommendation, if "Hindi songs guy" is too vague)! Firstly, thanks for telling the name of the song, I listened to it and *sighs* it was them!
Secondly, i didn't know you were from India too! Got to know some days ago from your posts, and then just read your post when you were drunk and telling about India. And I fully agree, it was accurate (and as a North Indian, I'm sorry for the racism🙊). And I'm also sorry about the transphobia and every other awfulness you might've experienced. I love youuuu (sorry if this is too weird🙆🏻‍♂️). Also, the career prospects thing was 100% true: I was 'supposed' to become a doctor, but I had taken science just coz i liked it, and then there was a three years long tragic battle against doctor as a career, and then finally after a failed suicide attempt, I was able to choose English Literature, and things are only now (5 years after the fact) looking better....sooooo I guess your fears about college are totally valid but it will be better, you'll meet great people and learn so much beautiful stuff and create sooo many brilliant thingss! Again, I love youuu (and again, sorry if all of it is too much info, too weird, I'm just...weirdly emotional, idk why)
Thirdly, I really like your name! Asmi is a beautifullll nameee!
Fourthly, sorryy for the long and weird ask, just... I'm glad to know someone else from India here, who's also a Good Omens fan and evidently a lovely person. Sooo lots of long tight hugss!
Lastly, sorry for all the sorrys, and you can totally ignore this if it's uncomfortable or anything (if you couldn't tell by the sorrys, I'm super self-conscious, so thanks for the anonymous option)
Love and hugss, and best of luck for college, for your art, and life in general!❤️
Hey anon maggot! I'm so happy you listened to the song and loved it.
And thank you so much for sharing this with me. It's awful that you had to go through all of that, and I'm so proud of you for surviving. I spent three years preparing for medicine too (11th and 12th year, which caused me to fall sick and miss the NEET test, so I took a gap year etc) and I really did want it. Well, I thought I did. It was more that I didn't think I had any other choice.
TW: explicit mentions of transphobia and disregard and discrimination on the basis of mental health below. Skip the below paragraph if you need to.
I'm glad you're doing better. Yeah, I am not looking forward to college. I know there will be fun parts and all. But I had a go at college for three months back in August, and despite it being very liberal and open and stuff in theory, I had to drop out because the entire student body was isolating me because of my mental health and things my ex-roommate had said about me, and a lot of transphobia from the admin too. When I went to the dean and told her I felt unsafe and the environment was horrible, she told me to stop being so self-absorbed (and then denied she said that the next day to my parents). Luckily after the whole medical ordeal my parents had learned to listen to me and they helped me leave.
I will try again. It's just that it's... disheartening. That was design school, too, just like my next college will be. And I really did try my best. It's weird thinking about all that stuff because Tumblr and you maggots have kind of, well, healed it in a way, and given me such a safe space here that it feels unbelievable that the real world could be so, so fucking shite. Apologies for the vent here, but I do want to be honest, and I want everyone who's faced the same thing to know that they're not alone. Because I know so many people, too many, who've been there.
Thank god for Good Omens and you all. For the ridiculous amount of support and love and joy I've got here. It's easier to forget about all of it for a while when I focus on Crowley's pouts and Aziraphale smiling and making you all laugh.
And hey, you have nothing to feel sorry for. I'm so grateful to you for taking the time to write this. I love you too, anon maggot, so very much. Take all the tight hugs right back. I'm so proud of you for fighting for the future you wanted and deserved. I know it's not easy, both to fight with your internalised doubt and the others.
I'm so proud.
Good luck.
All the love, Asmi
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chipped-chimera · 10 months
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WIP WEDNESDAY - 12/07/23
AND IT'S ACTUALLY ON A WEDNESDAY! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag <3 I regret to inform you ... it's more hair again @.@ (this one is actually different, I swear)
More under the cut, as usual~
Soooo if you've been following me you probably know I've done a few things since my last WIP Wednesday, namely more tattoo stuff, and more recently ... more hair stuff.
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After a LOT of agonising over it I finally consider the neck 'done' ... or done enough (vaguely ... thinking about doing something more in the transition between the tattoo and the jaw but I probably should stop honestly or I'll never stop). This means I probably have enough done to get away with taking screenshots while I work on the rest of it. Been pondering drawing up an actual plan for the rest beyond what I've been doing so far - mostly winging it and smashing things together. Might get stuff done faster, who knows.
Anyway I am back on my hair shit, yet again that's going just about ... as well as you'd expect ...
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Okay okay, I'll be honest, this has been fixed but I gotta say after spending a whole 12 hrs staring at lines of code, changing entries and having to redo them several times because I'd fucked up some file name or changed my mind or found out 'no that is not where you should be putting that folder you absolute dingus' and this was the best I could do was kind of hilarious. 😂
The important part was I'd gotten it IN, which was a process and a half, considering THIS time I'm using a custom made 2048px hair texture (alpha is 4k) and a higher poly mesh - which means yeah, this is the same hair rebuilt from scratch.
After some additional fiddling ...
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... and a very unamused Ven (I'm sorry hun) ...
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I got it in. All of it. No missing textures, no hair cards in the hair cap slot. The physics look janky but it's somewhat intentional - this is a minimal effort rigging job based on the alt rig, the priority was to get this hair texture IN so I could see how it looked in game and how everything sat before I dug myself further into a sunk cost fallacy over this second version of the hair.
And I'm actually pretty happy with it? There is some curl distortion yeah but it's not as bad as it was last time - and considering I'd rigged that one PROPERLY is saying something. Higher poly + textures are making a big difference here. It's pretty obvious in the comparison -
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Also yes I am aware this one is WAY too shiny, but that one is a considerably easy fix now I know how Vertex Paint actually affects this value. I was a bit too generous on the highlight gradient so I've already repainted what I have so far, using side-by-side references with existing game meshes to try and get it 'equal' but it's likely gonna be a lot of back and forth calibrating with that one.
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Excessive shiny-ness aside I'm actually REALLY happy with how the side curl is sitting nice and neat in her jacket collar this time! Also man ... doesn't that look silky ... (ok maybe some shine is good lmao)
I guess that's kind of it on the mod front. I've got other projects in a very initial stage (it's fanfic. Ofc it's fanfic) but work on both the tattoo bodysuit + hair is eating up a lot of my daily spoon allowance so that one will happen when it happens I guess (and probably when at minimum, this goddamn hair is done).
Oh and this hair is using UUH4V. I GOT IT TO WORK. Which means I'll be able to use multiple rigs which will hopefully prevent these carefully crafted curls from getting minced beyond recognition, fingers crossed.
Anyways until next time!
(Uh, I tag anyone who read all of this. Yes you. sorry I don't know many people yet and I'm shyyy)
p.s. yes hair tutorial. soon. In the case you are similarly frustrated and desperate as I was and working on hair please note I AM VERY OPEN TO TELLING YOU ALL THE INFO just ask me. Cause tutorial might take time unfortunately. But it's in the works.
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psychangels · 6 months
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Could you do like a hurt/comfort (this is more comfort than hurt and also fluffy tbh lol) of Chai and Macaron? I want this to be a ship fic, so Macaron and Chai are in love, and Macaron is comforting Chai.
I personally like the hc of Chai never having anyone to take care of him, even his own family wasn’t good to him. Like he never had anyone that was good to him, and when he did have friends or family, it was never anything on the level of how Macaron takes care of him. Like the connection and love Macaron and Chai have for each other is something Chai’s never experienced.
For the story, I like the thought of them cuddling, and Chai would suddenly drop some lore of how "No one ever cared about me like you." (I got this from the prompts you provided), and he’d still be vague like it was rough growing up because no one really cared about him. Chai is just so grateful to have Macaron, and it’s a little tough for him to say this because feelings are hard for him to understand and express openly, but he really felt like this is important to say to Macaron who has done so much for him. However, you can change up the story of how they’d talk about this and where this happens, just as long as you get the main element of Macaron comforting Chai who’s opening up about how much he appreciates and loves Macaron, and include the quote prompt I provided.
I hope this is enough info for a request! Love what you do for this fandom!! ❤️
here u go! :D tysm!!! 🧡💚
They're lying together in bed, Chai on Macaron's chest with his arm draped over his side and Macaron's arms wrapped around him, when he says it.
"No one ever cared about me like you."
It's said so softly, Macaron almost doesn't hear it. When he glances down to look at him, Chai's eyes are closed, as though he's about to fall asleep.
Macaron frowns. "What do you mean?" he asks.
When he doesn't get a response after a few moments, he assumes Chai did fall asleep. But then, he replies.
"I never..." He frowns. "When—before, y'know, I didn't really...it was just—me. I mean, I had family. Friends, sorta. But...I...they...things were difficult."
Macaron adjusts his hold on him, making it a bit firmer.
"No one was there for you? Not even your family?" Chai shrugs. "Sorta. Kinda." "I'm...I'm so sorry. You deserve better than that."
He smiles as Macaron squeezes him, nuzzling his hair.
"It's alright. 'Cause things are different now. With you. You're so..."
He trails off, sounding uncertain. His brow is furrowed the way it always is when he's thinking.
"...Good," Chai eventually settles on. "You're really, really good to me. And I appreciate it. A lot. And I—I love you."
"You don't need to thank me for that. I love you, too. You know that, right?"
Opening his eyes, he tilts his head so he can look up at Macaron. He grins. "Yeah. You're really good at reminding me."
Macaron smiles back.
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modern-inheritance · 6 months
Text
Update (and thoughts on what I have read so far of the new book)
Yeah yeah I know. I haven't finished Murtagh. Work gets in the way, when I get home I just want to eat and sleep and not put my brain to work, and weekends are me trying to fix up the house, play DnD and video games to relax.
I'm going to say spoilers here because though I'm being very vague I still don't want to ruin anything for anyone.
I will say that what I have read so far (~250-300 pages) has been very good. My main complaint is that we know this entire book is focused on Murtagh and Thorn, but there's still a hell of a lot of 'you could loop in Eragon and Saphira and Arya and Firnen, it would make this not only easier, but safer for the entire region and could lead to a better outcome.' "No they're busy/we're traumatized/everyone hates us/they won't care (this one is the worst imo)/insert-other-very-questionable-reason-here." It's clear that yes, Murtagh and Thorn are traumatized and it manifests in their actions, so I'm very happy with that acknowledgement and continuing consequences (poor word choice on my part here), but it's also pretty clear that they both are, much like Eragon and Saphira, very young.
It's nice to not have Eragon being ultra wise and whatnot. That step after Eldest where he seemed to have completely transformed (not just physically) from a somewhat flailing 15 year old kid with way too many responsibilities to a young-but-wise Rider with a ton of understanding and a penchant for philosophy felt so rushed and sudden to me. Murtagh and Thorn are not given that weird elf training and it shows. They don't feel or act wise and worldly and it's a very good thing.
I know none of them show up because this is indeed Murtagh and Thorn's story, but I wish we got more info on what's going on with Eragon and Saphira and Arya and Firnen. It's probably the MIC bleed through, but when it was said at one point 'it takes more to rouse a queen' when it was clear there was some really, REALLY fucky shit going on, my eyebrows went up to my hairline. Arya's probably going absolutely stir crazy at this point, and it was mentioned that there was equally fucky shit going on with the elves. She'd probably jump at the chance to go out with Firnen and actually have Dragon Rider duties to use as an excuse to get out of the forest/political bullshit.
I will say that I have read the last couple pages. I am pleased.
Alright, that's it. I'm currently tinkering with a few different versions of the Scars short with Arya and Islanzadi, but it's very choppy and won't be ready for a long time yet. I do spend a lot of my time at work mentally going over stuff so maybe yall will get a bit of MIC sooner rather than later, but for now I'm focusing on getting everything settled in with work/life balance.
Cheers you lot! I'll be back on with more stuff after I finish Murtagh.
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