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void-f3lt · 6 months

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🌟•:{Iter Astra}:•💫

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have jolted up the moment he saw a humanoid lizard with sharp ass teeth, cause that headache and ringing ears was not worth making said orange and black monitor lizard with horns, also, jolt. Actually it looked like he scared the shit out of everything in the other cells, whoops at least he knows everyone else knows now.

His cell was less wide then the others and it has a cubby like area at the top, back and only solid wall, it was about seven and a half feet up, with a gap between the tile that he could probably put his fingers in so he could climb that easier. There were many different types of aliens, some sentient some not, in neighboring cells.

One cell to his left and four to his right that he can see residents in but, there was definitely more probably twelve to sixteen and he can also hear at least one other floor under him. He was much smaller than all of them, since the stupid height average in space is six to seven feet tall for sentients that looked like the prey species. Though most of them still have claws, sharp teeth and/or talons, so like the animals back on Earth, they probably could still eat him if they hadn’t been fed for awhile.

Whatever they drugged him with made him feel a little dizzy and nauseous so he laid back down. He did not whimper. He was just… unwell. *Yea. That was it.* He wasn’t scared because he was in space jail with predators and lost his brother... He was just feeling a bit sick. The lights seemed to be strong UV lights given the fact that he can see his Blaschko lines *I really hope I don’t get skin cancer from this or something. Why do they use UV lights in the first place.*

Every now and then, he’d look at the aliens in the other cells, they were interesting to look at and he was curious. There were aliens that walked outside his cell too and they wore armor and they either had more muscle or spikes. One looked dull purple humanoid scorpion, that one was staring at him for a little too long in his opinion. He tried to commit how often they passed by to memory. It would be helpful later to know their patrol schedule.

The staring from nearly every other sentient seeming being there was unnerving. It felt like hours before most of them seemed to lose interest in him. Now a few aliens in the cells to his left and two from a cell to the right, seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. As Vecko would call it ‘a skinny big bird’ looking alien kept looking back at him, he kind of remembered seeing one back on another planet fighting some criminal, so he, a free traveling unlicensed space pirate, is trapped in a trafficking ship with a fucking space cop.

As he realized this he fell on his back banging his head violently on the metal floor, groaned and said with his hands covering his mouth and eyes closed, “Fuck my life, why does it always have to be Me.” And judging by the sudden silence he scared the shit out of the other sentients again.

The big bird like sentient looked like a humanoid Sulpher-Crested Cockatoo, but with a longer beak. Instead of white feathers they had light gold and their crest was more beige-taupe. Pistachio green eyes. Their wings didn’t look like they could fly with them but they still looked longer then Tobey was tall and he was 5’3. *Fucking hell, why does the interplanetary height average have to be in the fucking double digits?* They also had taupe brown talons that were most likely three inches on the wings and the ones on their legs were closer to four or five inches.

Also it was wearing a worn down sleeveless to accommodate their wings, black leather jacket that looked like the color of juniper bark in some places, the collar being the mast prominent from where he’s angled. *Probably faux given.. would they actually have issues with real leather? Are there cow looking aliens?* They also had a white tank-top, black sleeveless leather jacket, a black belt with venetian red and dark and possibly stained with blood, beige cargo pants, it looks more like shorts though. Apparently Alt/Punk fashion is universal, who knew.

After seemingly the end of a conversation that he completely missed Sulpher (what he’s calling the bird) stood up and started walking over to the bars and then squatted in front of Tobey, who shifted back just a little bit before realizing that Sulpher can’t reach him cause of the electrocuted bars. A slightly familiar warbling came from Sulpher. He only says slightly because he’s heard similar when stealing borrowing his ship from the sellers in that unlicensed port he crashed into.

Sulpher didn’t try to reach through the bars but they were looking directly at him. Not his eyes though cause apparently that’s a universal way to either get your ass beat or cause an entire building to be evacuated. Yes he learned that the hard way. Fun days.

Sulpher shifted after a moment, bringing their armwings together to fiddle with its talonfingers. *Were they nervous? Is that what happened to their collar?* They made noise again and Tobey noticed a pattern as well as a questioning little shift to its tone. *So it is a language!* And they were trying to ask him a question. Now he’s getting excited. The lizard from the right-most cell said something, and then he whipped his head back and made everyone flinch, again. He should really stop doing that.

Sulpher then replied with a bright tone, and turned their attention back to Tobey. They pointed at him and then drew a circle in the air. Tobey shifted to sit criss-cross (which Sulpher and a dull navy with pastel pink accents, humanoid dragonfly looked at him weirdly when he did so *probably not normal then*) so that he could see better and also to be more comfortable, he and his brother always sat like this when they got dad to go on a rambling spree.

Were they asking what planet he’s from? That seemed possible based on the context. “Earth.” The aliens all froze when he spoke. Sulpher recovered first. They put a hand to their chest. “### ##### ## Ariho.” Tobey squinted his eyes a little in frustration that he didn’t know words he hasn’t been taught yet. “Ariho,” they repeated while patting their chest. They’re telling him its name! Or species. Either way not a normal word, therefore important.

“Ariho?” He mimicked almost perfectly, (a hint of a British and it would have been perfect) and apparently that isn’t common thing and/or they just weren’t expecting him to get it right first try. Everyone listening startled *again, why??* but then Sulpher made a chirping sound. They were probably happy, maybe they were part of a species that was oriented on parent/child relationships.

That’d be pretty cool, and convenient if he played his cards right. No, no manipulating.

Then Sulpher/maybe Ariho pointed to Tobey. Do they want his name?

“Tobey,” he offered.

“Obeey?”

“Tobey.”

“Toebean?” That one made him laugh.

“Tobey.”

“Tobey?”

“Tobey,” he confirmed with a nod and thumbs up, which in hindsight probably confused them a little but either way they got names down, Now what?

Sul-Ariho? repeated the pointing and drawing a circle motions, this time adding a gesture to the cage around them. He was still a little dazed so, they were back to square one on that one. The charades repeated a few more times before they realized he wasn’t getting they tried something else, that he could not make sense of in the slightest therefore that also failed.

#writing #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #scifi #space religion eventually #Magic #cause there’s no way the shit that gets pulled and explained away with “science” normally is actually science #PLEASE point out pronoun continuity errors #And also generally spelling/grammar errors #Gay eventually #Tobey finds and dragonborn to fuck #And Ariho is married

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maifos · 6 days

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Since I heard her name I couldn't get the similarities between Galicea (fantasy high) and Galatea (Greek mythology). The myth of Galatea is basically that an incredibly skilled sculptor was incredibly repulsed by the idea that women could speak and express themselves, but he still wanted a girlfriend so he made a marble statue and named her Galatea (Roughly translate to white as milk). But he soon realized that a less comfortable body pillow wasn’t the best option for a fulfilling relationship so he asked Aphrodite for help. The goddess then transformed Galatea into a real woman who, unfortunately, could talk and have emotions and opinions so their whole thing kind of fell apart. All this to say, I think this myth of Galatea where she is only accepted when she follows a very strict set of rules laid out for her by the person who is supposed to love her, has some very intriguing parallels to Galacea the “werewolf moon” goddess, being forced into just “moon” goddess she isn’t by her followers, who only accept her as a restricted version of herself that can’t express the werewolf aspect of her divinity.

I don’t know if this was intentional on Brennan's part, but considering there have been a lot of different parallels with characters with greek myth inspired/adjacent names i wouldnt put it past him. Either way I hope we get to see more interactions between Cassandra and Galicea because I wanna know what their sibling relationship was. Were they on good terms? Was it another Abernant situation? What did Galacea think of Ankarna? How did Galicea react when her sister became the nightmare king? Did she know? I need the rest of the season to drop tomorrow. I swear to god I wanna know everything KNOW!

#fhjy spoilers #galicaea #ankarna #cassandra #If you coment on my spelling on any of these names i'll be upset #or just my spelling/grammar in general #Non first language enligsh/dyslexia combo is rough #kristen applebees #I like greek mythology and the amount of refrences this season is everything to me #I also have some thoughts on Beardsly giving Cassandra the name of the greek myhtological figure WHO WAS LITERALY NEVER BELIVED #Intentional or not #Sure cassandra was cursed to be a prophet that nobody belived to tell the truth #But our Cassandra is a goddes who is having a really hard time making people belive (in) her #Also a goddess of mystery and doubt being named after mythological figure who was doubted #i'll stop with these tags now oml thats a lot

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junglejim4322 · 12 days

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You can tell a lot about a leftist if they constantly make fun of things that are highly indicative of poverty

#a lot of aspects of peoples looks and general grammar come to mind

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softness-and-shattering · 4 months

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Saw/shared a post that mentioned 'youtube grammar' yesterday and I checked the tag and

Its basically the thing where people mishear words or phrases and then say it wrong. Some examples are

'manner of fact' instead of 'matter of fact', 'eck cetera' instead of 'et cetera' 'I could care less' v 'I couldn't care less'

And the poster blamed this on lowered education standards, lack of education, and basically people not learning grammar rules and not being able to break down what language a word is from to figure out pronounciation. Im not saying thats wrong, I dont know.

But I also have a running joke/recognition with friends who are bilingual or speak multiple languages, about how sounds get mixed up your head, and sometimes you'll even think of the right word but your muscle memory will write or type another. The example that started the conversation in earnest was me spelling the word 'pneumonic' instead of 'mnemonic'. (If you're going ooh this is his tumblr, hi! :D).

In a comment I was just writing, I wrote think instead of thing. I knew the word I wanted was thing, its the word I thought, its not the word I typed.

Also today I wrote 'mood' instead 'move'.

Its not a lack of education, or a misunderstanding of grammar, or mislearing a phrase. My fingers just mess it up sometimes, because somehow the link between thought and typing has to do with the sounds, not the root or the spelling or possibly even the language. Because, pneumonic.

I dont know if this holds the same with the spoken word, I dont know what those pathways are, and to begin with Im neither a linguist nor neurologist. Im just noticing patterns with myself and my friends.

If anyone does know facts or science about this, please do chime in!

#additional thoughts #thats a tag not a general statement #linguistics #neurology #language #mine #youtube grammar #grammar #literacy #i reckon thats enough tags

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faerynova · 1 year

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nothing more devastating than seeing really cool art about a fic and the artist raving about how much they loved it so you check it out and theres no paragraph breaks

#or just shit grammar/formatting in general #i wont read it im sorry i wont #i cant do it im not strong enough #faeloops

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arabic-langblr · 4 days

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السلام عليكم 🌷🌷

how can i start learning grammar? i’ve started learning vocab but i feel overwhelmed by grammar and don’t know where to start. thanks so much!

جزاك الله خير

وعليكم السلام ورحمة الله وبركاته

I have a tag for grammar lessons and questions here, I'm still working on updating the lessons.

I also made a small check list of the topics I'd like to cover.

Of course, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask me. I'm a huge grammar nerd and I get excited when I have any opportunity to discuss Arabic grammar ^^

#I'm working on a small project for teaching arabic with a focus on grammar #I'll share the details soon but the general idea is in a pinned post ^^#asks #grammar

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workingchemistry · 4 months

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“Kih’ori’vod.” Tenten rumbles. His voice holds all the weight of affection b’Jan’buir. There’s also a cruel sharpness that Jan’buir never showed in front of Boba. “The Kaminiise were careless. The equipment malfunctioned and all of the cells they harvested from Prime died off.”

Boba stares at him blankly, not understanding what that has to do with his staying in prison for the rest of his life.

Tenten glances over his shoulder and then crouches down so he’s at Boba’s eye level. He brushes the back of his scarred knuckles across Boba’s cheek. “They’ll try to harvest cells from us, but we’re too edited—impure. You, on the other hand, are untouched. Tsad Droten is churning through us like mulch, they will approach you soon with a plea bargain.”

“Gar’gotal ner mav’cuyi.” The words fall from Boba’s numb lips before he can take them back. “Why?”

Tenten rocks back onto his heels, plastoid bucket scraping against his thigh plate. The silence drags on forever, long enough that Boba starts to think that he isn’t going to get an answer.

Then, finally, Ten’ika says, “Gar buir ru’juri skira. N’cuyi harycne viini goyust ures kyr.”

Mini translations:

Kih’ori’vod: little big brother (different from ori’kih’vod which means tiny brother)

Gar’gotal ner mav’cuyi: roughly, you manufactured a way to free me. lit. You create my freedom (mav being free and cuyi being exist)

Gar buir ru’juri skira: roughly, your father was burdened by revenge. Lit. Your parent carried revenge.

N’cuyi harycne viini goyust ures kyr: roughly, I won’t become exhausted running a path without an end. Lit not exist (most) tired running path without end.

#commander fox #boba fett #bro I’m learning mando’a against my will #I always swore I wouldn’t be the kind of person to learn a fictional language #but here we are #learning languages is hard in general #but I struggle with grammar in particular bc my use of grammar in English is entirely instinctual #thankfully I can blame any mistakes I make on the fact that the clones are cobbling together their own dialects #i have headcanons #CT’s use basic grammar and just throw in mando’a words while nulls speak mando’a almost like native speakers #CCs and Aureks fall between the two #also Boba speaks mando’a as his first language so this is Fox trying to reach out and give Boba back #some of the culture he lost when Jango died

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every-aj-needs-an-angel · 8 months

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Thank you darling @i-less-than-three-you for tagging me

Its rules as follows:

1- generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words!

2- tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge!

(If you don’t like the five words you got, reroll them. This is meant to be a fun little challenge, not something to stress over. Have fun!)

My words: dandle, pillow, desex, motive, burble

(absolutely no pressure) tagging @mickalaem @estrellami-1 @mentallyundone @penny00dreadful @hbyrde36

Steve had had the worst day at work. He hated working shifts with Keith, he was a shithead. The migraine had started just after lunch and had got progressively worse the more Keith snarked and bitched at him, Steve had only held his tongue because he needed his job.

His parents had sold the McMansion to the insurance company for whatever they could get for it, essentially making him homeless for a while. The Party had been amazing, of course, but Steve had hated every second in every spare room.

Wayne had insisted he just move in with them, but his and Eddie's relationship had still been new and tentative. The Buckley's offered him the space over their garage, but Robin hadn't been ready to tell them she was a lesbian; so there’d been a list of rules attached to the offer that would just make all of them feel uncomfortable.

In the end, he'd sofa surfed for a year, but it was a year in which everything turned around for all of them.

He and Eddie were fully stupidly deeply in love, Robin was out to her parents and her and Nancy were something, Joyce and Hopper had got married, Max was walking again, and the kids were settled in school. If it weren't for Keith and his terrible attitude, life would be pretty close to perfect.

It probably hadn't been a smart move to drive with his vision blurred and his head pounding, but he had just needed to get home. Their apartment wasn't much, just a tiny one bedroom downtown, but being able to wake up in Eddie's arms every morning meant that it was all the home he'd ever need.

Even trying to get the key in the front door felt like a monstrous task when just about every part of him ached, but he managed it, just about. Eddie met him in the hall, a furrow in his brow, holding a spatula and wearing his Kiss The Cook apron.

The smell of warm spices immediately made his stomach turn, an involuntary whimper escaping him as Eddie stepped softly toward him. "C'mon, love," he cooed barely above a whisper, urging Steve forward, so he could click the front door shut behind him.

Kneeling down to help Steve out of his shoes, Eddie rested Steve's hands onto his shoulders, so he could keep his balance enough to be barefoot, before he clambered to his feet and took Steve’s hands in his own, and very gently, urged him down the corridor into the bathroom.

Eddie sat him down on the closed toilet lid, grabbed a flannel from the medicine cabinet and wet it under the hot tap, ringing it out and placing it gently over Steve's closed eyes. The relief was minute but immediate, and Steve sucked in a shuddering breath as Eddie turned to start the bath, pouring in the eucalyptus bath salts he knew Steve loved. The next thing he knew Eddie was pressing painkillers against his tongue and a glass of water into his palm, taking the glass away when Steve was finished with it.

The steam was working wonders at clearing the pressure in his sinuses, and the gentle heat against his eyes was turning the sharp, stabbing pain into a dull throb when Eddie slipped out of the bathroom with a whispered, "Be right back."

What immediately followed was something crashing to the ground in the kitchen, along with Eddie’s quietly exclaimed "Shit!" and even though it hurt to move the muscles in his face, Steve couldn't help but smile to himself. Eddie wasn't the clumsiest person he'd ever met, but he knew that the more Eddie tried to be nimble and quiet, the more uncoordinated he became. But the fact that he was trying so hard to be calm and quiet because he knew Steve was in pain just reminded him what an incredible guy his boyfriend was.

Eddie tiptoed back into the bathroom with whispered apologies, turning off the water and unbuttoning the buttons on Steve's polo with efficient fingers, easing Steve out of his uniform. Mumbling assurances as he helped him into the tub, pressing the softest of kisses to the tip of his nose once he was settled in the water. And when Steve whimpered, "Stay?" grabbing blindly for his arm, Eddie huffed a soft chuckle, and whispered, "Not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Eddie ditched his clothes and clambered in behind Steve, manoeuvring them, so Steve's head was laid against his chest. And with his hands resting on Eddie’s knobbly knees, Steve could focus on relaxing each part of his body, secure in the knowledge that when he was finished he'd be able to drift off with Eddie there to keep him safe.

Steve didn’t know how long he'd stayed floating in the tub, but by the time he recognised consciousness again, the once warm water had gone horribly cold. When he removed the wash cloth from his face and finally opened his eyes, the light coming in around the blind from the streetlamp outside didn’t hurt quite so much either.

"Hi there," Eddie murmured, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulder, working out a knot in his muscle.

Steve sighed heavily with how nice it felt, but as the cool water reached parts of his skin that hadn’t previously been wet, he shuddered.

"C’mon, you," Eddie urged as he helped Steve to sit up, clambering out of the water and quickly pulling the plug. Eddie threw a towel around his own waist before bending down to scoop Steve out of the empty bathtub, carrying him the few steps to their bedroom and laying him on a towel that was already waiting on their bed.

All the lights were off, but luckily for both of them, they lived in an apartment that never truly got dark, not like the McMansion had. Even at night, there was always the soft glow of the streetlamps poking around the window dressings. It wasn’t really enough to see by, but it was enough that it wasn’t pitch black when you awoke in the night; shapes were visible but not the imaginary kind he’d spent his childhood fighting.

Steve rolled over onto his front, snuggling into the line dried towel underneath him, just as Eddie draped a radiator warmed towel over his back. He spent a few minutes pottering around the bedroom, drying himself off and dressing in his sweats before joining Steve on the bed, tugging the towel on his back up enough to start gently drying his hair.

Once his hair was only damp, Eddie moved from rubbing the towel through the strands to kneading soothing circles into his neck, making his way down to start working on the knot he'd been rubbing in the bath.

Sighing heavily and half drifting back into that heavy sleepy place as Eddie helped him relax, Steve mumbled, "Hmm, feels nice," as Eddie soothed a particularly tender spot at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Steve purposefully opened his eyes, not wanting to fall back asleep yet, he couldn't see anything other than his silhouette, but Steve just liked to look at him sometimes, just to know he was there and real and alive. Eddie shifted and Steve watched his movements as he got up off the bed and flicked on the bedside lamp, immediately flicking it back off when Steve hissed with pain at the sudden light.

"Sorry," Eddie whispered.

"S'alright, turn it back on, I'll shut my eyes," he mumbled, pressing his face into the pillow.

Eddie didn't answer, but Steve could hear his footfall against the carpet, the clink of the lighter and the dull thunk of the candle being placed back on the bedside. The warmth of the flame on his face felt nice as Eddie wandered out of the bedroom and a few seconds later padded back in.

Clambering up on the bed, Eddie crawled over to him and settled lightly over his hips. He tugged the towel down to expose his shoulders, popped a bottle lid and then sat very still for a second, before leaning forward and rubbing what Steve recognised as warmed baby oil down his neck and across his shoulder blades, before pressing his fingers tenderly into his muscles.

They had both given each other massages before, so it wasn't surprising that Eddie was amazing at it, using just the right amount of pressure to get the knots out without being too heavy-handed. What was surprising was that Eddie was fully clothed. After they'd started dating, massages had become a thing they did naked, not to make it sexual, although sometimes it did go that way but usually it was just nice to lay together afterwards without unnecessary fabric ruining the intimacy.

The sleeves of Eddie's hoodie kept sliding down his arms as he worked, and after the fourth time, Eddie tutted as he bunched the sleeves back up his arm.

"Just take it off," Steve mumbled, he felt bad that he was so relaxed when he could feel Eddie getting stressed.

"S'fine," Eddie muttered, pulling the towel down a little further and working on the muscles just below his shoulder blades.

Except he didn't get much further before it happened again, Eddie muttering curses under his breath as he tugged at his sleeves.

"Baby. Just take it off," Steve insisted softly.

"No!" Eddie groused a bit too loudly, mumbling apologies when Steve involuntarily flinched.

Eddie huffed and popped the lid on the baby oil again, but Steve turned to hold his wrist, stopping him from pouring more liquid onto his hands, "What's going on?" he asked quietly.

Huffing, Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, looking anywhere but at Steve, "You're hurting. I didn't want you to think…" he trailed off. Steve waited patiently for an answer because whenever he was hurting like this he didn't have the brain capacity to decipher an Eddie-ism. When Steve could only raise his eyebrows in question, Eddie huffed again, "I didn't want you to think I had… ulterior motives," Eddie whined.

The corners of Steve's mouth pulled up without his permission, his boyfriend really was the cutest man in the whole world, "So you're driving yourself crazy in your sweats to… desex a massage?" Steve clarified, trying desperately not to laugh because that had to be the sweetest but stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"Yeah," Eddie mewled pouting, but as he glanced at Steve, his mouth quirked up at the corners, letting him know that Eddie was starting to see how absurd it sounded.

"Babe. Seriously, take off the damn sweats," Steve reiterated.

"But," Eddie interrupted.

Steve groaned exasperatedly, "Fine. I, Steve Harrington, hereby recognise that you, Edward Adorable-Pants Munson, are in fact attempting to ease my suffering and not trying to sex me up," Steve declared.

The both of them just stared at one another for a second before Eddie broke, snorting a loud snigger and sending them both into hysterics, Eddie nearly coating both of them in the bottle of baby oil as his shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Steve was the first to sober, but he was more than happy just to watch Eddie's features dance in the candlelight, especially as he calmed, watching Steve watching him. Sighing contentedly, Steve finally released Eddie's wrist, "Now, please, angel, for the love of all that is holy!" he pleaded, flopping down onto the pillow and feeling more than seeing Eddie climb back off the bed.

Sucking in a deep breath, Steve relaxed down into the mattress. It was only as the rich cinnamon scent coming from the candle settled over his senses that it occurred to him that it was what had turned his stomach when he'd walked through the front door. The thought made him cast his mind back to the minute he'd got home, quickly realising that the hallway hadn't been lit by the harsh overhead lighting they still hadn’t had time to change, but Eddie had in fact been bathed in warm candlelight.

Eddie perching back over him was enough to snap his attention back to the present, and Steve was glad to feel how much more relaxed Eddie was as he settled a grounding weight back onto Steve's thighs. Steve sighed contently and felt himself melt into the pillow under his head as Eddie warmed more oil and continued his ministrations; every inch of his back worshipped by the remarkable man he was lucky enough to spend his life with.

Promising himself to do something solely for Eddie tomorrow brought back the vision he’d come home to, he wondered what Eddie had been cooking. Usually, they cooked together when Steve got home from work, mainly because Eddie tended to get stressed with trying to get the timings of a meal to match up, but it had sort’ve become their routine since Eddie’s rehabilitation.

It had started as a way to get Eddie to stop moping on the couch, and then he’d actually found he enjoyed the rhythm and repetitiveness of peeling and chopping vegetables. It also helped when Steve had found an old book of recipes in his attic that had clearly belonged to a relative once upon a time. There were a fair few that worked well as an evening meal for them and breakfast for Wayne, and Steve had learned early in their burgeoning relationship that the easiest way to get Eddie to do anything was to slyly suggest that the activity would in some way help his uncle.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve wasn’t above using a tactic if it worked in his favour, and spending his evenings amidst the steam of pots and pans, and the scent of the herbs he’d grown in their window box with Eddie humming and chopping at his elbow was something Steve spent his monotonous days at work very much looking forward to.

So even Steve’s slightly mushy and mangled brain could fathom that something had been going on before he’d arrived home a mess, and thought maybe he should ask Eddie about it.

"What’s that, sweetheart?" Eddie asked.

Steve asked again if Eddie had had something special planned for their evening.

As he spoke Eddie leaned down over his back, so their heads were closer together, but when he'd asked Eddie just chuckled a hot breath over the back of his neck. "You’re burbling, sunshine, I’ve no idea what you’re trying to say. Just go back to sleep, love. You’re okay, I’ve got you."

Except, Steve wasn’t asleep, although as he lifted his face out of the pillow to ask again and felt the drool down his chin, he realised perhaps he had nodded off at some point. "I asked if you had cooked?" he murmured blearily.

Eddie just shrugged, "Oh. Yeah, I did, but it doesn't matter," he muttered as he rubbed his hands up Steve's spine, gently forcing his head back onto the pillow.

"Something special planned?" Steve asked as casually as he could.

When he and Eddie had first become a thing, he'd promised himself that he'd be gentle with his own heart for a change, that he wouldn't rush in and get ahead of himself with this relationship. And he was doing a great job too until Robin had offhandedly mentioned something about Eddie proposing the last time they'd been forced into watching some dorky romcom during their "grown-ups" movie night.

Steve hadn't really been able to think about anything else since, because surely that was the next logical step for them, but after the "bullshit" disaster he'd been a bit gunshy. He hadn't initiated any of their firsts, which had nearly killed him because it took Eddie three whole weeks to get around to kissing him for the first time. But he'd been desperately trying to let Eddie lead and just blindly follow in the hope that it wouldn't blow up in his face.

Eddie shuffled around a bit, getting distracted from dandling and switching to drawing intricate patterns into his skin, "Er. Well. Y’know, it’s been two months, so I just thought…" he trailed off, shrugging nonchalantly.

Steve propped himself up off the pillow, folding his forearms under his chest, so he could look at Eddie properly, "We’ve lived here two months?" he asked, surprised.

He was shocked it'd been so long, it felt like forever and barely any time at all, but it always seemed to feel like that with Eddie. He'd been completely taken aback months ago when Robin had conversationally asked him what they'd had planned for their first anniversary. He'd had no idea they'd even been coming up to a year together, he'd been left stunned, wondering simultaneously how on earth they’d made it a whole trip around the sun and how he’d ever managed to live a life without Eddie by his side.

When Eddie only nodded in response watching his fingers doodle on Steve's skin, purposefully looking anywhere but at him, he reached around and grabbed Eddie's wrist pulling it gently to him, so he could kiss the back of his hand, "I ever tell you you're the best thing to ever happen to me?" he asked, fully enjoying the bashful smile that nearly split Eddie's face in two.

"You mighta mentioned it once or twice," Eddie quipped, looking up at him through his lashes.

"Mhmpt," Steve grumbled with faux annoyance, the smile on his face giving away his amusement. He still attempted to keep up the bit, though, letting go of Eddie’s hand and flopping dramatically back down against the bed.

Sighing contently, Eddie climbed off his back and came to lay beside him. Steve peeked an eye open to see Eddie watching him fondly, and try as he might, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. "I love you," he mumbled, wriggling closer to Eddie, so he could snuggle into his chest.

"Love you too," Eddie murmured, wrapping Steve in his arms and pressing a soft kiss into his hair, "Are you hungry?"

Steve thought about it for a second, "Hmm, no, not really. You?"

"Thank god for that! I was so worried I was gonna hafta move!" Eddie muttered tiredly, "Can we just stay here forever?"

Steve hummed an affirmative, "Sounds good to me," he breathed, snuggling closer, wrapping his arm tight around Eddie’s waist kissing the scar on his chest where his nipple had once been, making Eddie giggle.

He sighed serenely, safe in the knowledge that no matter how terrible his day had been, so long as he always had Eddie to come home to, his days would always end in the best way.

#ofc it's fluffy #i tried angst i ain't good at it #just eddie looking after his boy #as always apologies about the grammar and the tense changes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #aj writes #word generator tag game

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peacefulmultishipper · 9 months

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Ironwood’s Near Pure Evil page is a great example of why you shouldn’t use wikis as your main source of information as editors of these pages are not above using and spreading false information or greatly exaggerated it to fit a narrative they’re telling.

“Even before his turn into villainy, Ironwood was still willing to do amoral things, such as subtly promising to give Roman Torchwick, who was a criminal, Atlas' tech if he told them who he was working for.”

This is false - Ironwood imprisoned and interrogate Torchwick but the general never once tried to bribe / “subtly promising” him tech in Volumes 2 & 3.

“Although one may say he might felt remorse in his final moments due to giving up on trying to shoot Cinder and Salem it is not clear if he actually felt remorse for his heinous crimes or just because his plans ultimately failed on him. What’s more, this moment is leaning on just him accepting his death rather than him feeling shame for his evil acts. Therefore, he never showed any remorse for the things he had done, believing he was right to the very end.”

“Speaking of his final moments, while his death could be seen playing with sympathy as he ended up dying alone given how nobody morns or even decide to check on him when he’s around this is more seen as completely well-deserved. His death could also be seen as karmic given the fact he died from being crushed by Atlas which was the city he attempts to send into orbit.”

This is the editor’s interpretation of Ironwood’s final scene…Why is this here and What does his death have to do with him being “Near Pure Evil”?

The second one is just straight up a headcanon, the only thing we have to go off here is the deleted scene from Volume 9.

These are just two examples of it, the page feels like it was written by a user that wanted to bitch about the character that they personally dislike from a show they didn’t watch properly rather than a unbiased analysis of antagonistic and judging their actions within the actual context of the show.

#rwde #does this count as rwde?#is this rwde?#general ironwood #james ironwood #personal rant #sorry for the rant #grammar mistakes #sorry for my grammar

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chaoslynx · 9 days

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omg you’re learning Italian? I’m Italian! Ciao!! Sono sicura che sei bravissimə! (ə is like the gender neutral suffix lmao even if it’s not universally recognised)

Ciao! Sì, parlo italiano, ma solo un po'. Imparando italiano per tre mesi ora! Anche xlx mix migliore amicx è italianx. Lxi usa -x invece -ə. Grazie mille per usi -ə per me! Anche -o è va bene per me. Mi dispiace se non dico questo molto bene ancora.

#answers #anon #also to the other anon ask in the inbox: i'm planning to write a drabble for you #it's just taking me some time :( sorry! still getting back into writing #also again yeah i'm terribly sorry if my grammar or general speech sucks in italian right now #it's literally only been three months since i started lol #and i've been monolingual my whole life sadly </3 #i hope this is at least kinda-sorta understandable #feel free to reach out over DMs or in my discord server or whatever if you want to talk more! i only know a couple italian speakers rn

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ben-wisehart · 11 months

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I just don't get the argument that banning AI-generated works from ao3 would be pointless because people will continue to post AI works but stop labelling them as such, so they'll be harder to avoid. You can say that about literally any crime. There are always going to be people who ignore the rules, but that doesn't mean the rules should not exist.

Right now, AI-generated works are a novelty. People are posting them openly because it seems like fun. The posters of these fics (I will not call them authors) aren't trying to cheat anyone, they just find the concept neat and want to share them with others, but they're not actually trying to receive praise for something they didn't do.

The people who are trying to pass AI-generated works off as genuine fanworks are already doing so. If 50% of AI works currently on the archive are marked as such, and 50% are not, then banning AI works would result in the openly-AI works being removed. Of those, perhaps half of the people posting them would be so determined to do so anyway that they'll lie and repost them less-conspicuously—but that's still 25% fewer AI works on the archive. (and frankly I think this is being very generous about the number of genuine grifters)

Placeholder "fic to be written" works, "help me find this fic" works, and other works that treat the archive like a social media site are already against the terms of service. These can and do get reported and taken down. If you're a regular user of the archive you'll know that works like this still get posted on a pretty regular basis, but the fact that they're generally known to be against the TOS means there is a precedent to stop them becoming more commonplace.

AI-generated works are not fanworks. They simply aren't. They have no place taking up server space and pushing genuine creators further down in the search results, making it just a little bit harder for authors starting out to get noticed. They don't belong there any more than advertisements for discord servers or future fics.

The only other concern I've seen expressed is that genuine inexperienced authors might get mistaken for AI-posters and reported. Personally, I think it's still pretty easy to tell the difference between the structurally perfect but utterly soulless prose of AI and the error-ridden works of inexperienced human authors, but assuming that changes...it's already basically impossible to get fics taken down that don't openly admit to breaking the rules. These reports are assessed by real people and the Archive's policy is maximum inclusiveness when there is any doubt whatsoever.

If all a ban on AI-works does is remove the hundreds of fics that are currently open about being AI-generated, that is already enough for it to be a good thing, even if it does lead to a few more being posted in secret

#ao3 #archive of our own #ai fic #just a heads up im not really looking to argue here #feel free to have discussions and share your own thoughts in the replies or reblogs but I probably won't answer myself #anyway just.#this isn't fucking prohibition. that is not even remotely an accurate comparison #banning alcohol didn't work because alcohol slaps and people love it #but the only people who like AI fics are the people making AI fics. it's just profoundly not the same thing #honestly now that I’ve written it ‘structurally perfect’ feels way too generous for AI works lol #those things absolutely have grammar and punctuation errors too #but you know what I mean if you’ve ever read one #the reason they’re bad is not because of grammar

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kukkakisu · 1 month

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Lend me your life.

Words; 1455 Content warnings; Death, thoughts of death/self-harm, abandonment, descriptions of a mask attaching itself to an employee A look into CC's last moments alive before he turned into a Masked.

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How long had it been?

Keeping track of time was the least of CC's concerns, yet when there was nothing but the silence of the mansion walls to keep them company, they couldn't help but wonder. How much time had passed? Hours? Days?

Their fingers pressed against the colorful Rubix cube they had picked up some time ago, turning it idly as they stared at the ceiling. There was no intent to solve it, it was just a distraction to occupy their mind. To give them something to do. Something to focus on.

It was strange to notice how small things became so important to your survival, once you were stuck in a grim situation. Even so, CC was nearing their limits.

At first, they had tried to find their crewmates. They had felt worried, but after some time that worry morphed into fear. Even so, they wanted to believe in them and not lose hope. Surely they wouldn't have left them here? I mean, nobody would just abandon a new intern on a desolate moon, right? And even if there was a reason for them to leave, they'd come back. They'd…

The movement of CC's hands stopped and the cube slipped, clattering lightly as it fell on the wooden floor. Who were they kidding? They weren't coming and they knew that damn well. As CC lay still, they felt their chest get uncomfortably tight. Tears made their way up to their eyes and they struggled to keep them from pouring down. There wasn't even anyone to hear them cry, yet they wanted to hold it in so badly-- just to prove to the others that they were strong enough. Capable of doing more than just messing up.

CC knew their crew was likely disappointed with them. They made a lot of mistakes and weren't as quick, efficient, or strong as the rest. CC couldn't do as much as they did. No matter how much they had tried, it just wasn't enough. Maybe they had finally lost their patience and decided to leave them here so they could find someone new… Not that CC would get to know what they thought now.

They had oxygen but… For how long? And what about food and water? Not to mention the stories of dangerous creatures that could be lurking inside this mansion. No matter how they looked at it, they weren't making it out alive.

It was a scary thought. Yet at the same time, it was something they were starting to hope for. Being stuck here alone was far worse than dying to something swiftly. They didn't want to be alone.

Sure, they had found a few items to keep them company but it wasn't enough. They craved a human connection. Someone to listen to, or someone to talk to. The silence was overwhelming and talking to themselves could only get them so far.

The spiraling thoughts were finally enough to make the warm tears drop down their cheeks. Instinctively, they reached to wipe them, only for their hand to collide with the helmet's visor. Ah. Right. They couldn't take it off. It was the thing that was keeping them alive. Silent breaths grew heavier at their frustration and soon enough CC found themselves sobbing loudly. They wanted to take this stupid helmet off. They couldn't take this anymore.

Their cries were interrupted by a sound. A first they had heard in a long while. Laughter. A low chuckle. It made them go quiet and jolt up. What was that? Did they imagine it? They shook their head as they sniffled. They must have been finally losing their mind. But then they heard it again. A longer chuckle. The voice was deep and distorted yet despite the eerie tone, it felt oddly gentle. CC's eyes focused on one of the items that were on the floor beside them. A white comedy mask. The noise had to come from that, they were certain of it.

"Are you… Trying to comfort me?" CC reached for the mask, picking it up. As if replying to their question, a muffled laugh came from it. At this point, they didn't care if it was a delusion or not. It was comforting. They wanted this. They needed this. They broke down into a sob once more and held the mask carefully against their chest.

"Thank you…"

Eventually, they let their body lay back on the ground and held the mask above them. They wondered if it was more than just an item and if it had seen and heard everything that had happened from the very moment they had picked it up from the main hall's staircase. They exhaled through their nose in amusement at the thought. Yep. They were losing their mind. There was no way any of these items were sentient. Still… If the thought comforted them and kept them going for a bit longer, it was worth it to entertain it.

Without thinking, they brought the mask closer to their visor. It was a neat looking thing, now that they had a closer look at it. They wondered how it had remained in such a pristine condition if this moon and its manor had been abandoned years ago.

A strange sound interrupted CC's thoughts. Muffled mutters. Chatters. As if something was talking underwater. Many voices distorting into one. And then…

The mask lit up and pressed itself against their helmet. It shattered the glass of their visor, pushing itself into their skin. They shut their eyes and their body convulsed at the intense pain. Something was burning into their face. Dulling their mind as it sank deeper and deeper. Like a wave that engulfed you into the depths of the ocean. Eating them away, bit by bit. It felt painful and all of their nerves burned in desperate resistance as their body continued to twitch. Yet somehow, something about it was… Peaceful. Like slowly falling into a comfortable dream. With each passing second, their movements started to slow down and they felt calmer and calmer. They should have continued to fight it, but they didn't. They had accepted their fate. They were willing to let go. And so, they let that comfortable stillness hold them like a blanket until everything finally went dark. CC's eyes remained closed and they fell into a soothing dream. One where they were safe. One where they wouldn't feel pain. One, which they would never wake up from.

Employee 115: [Life support: OFFLINE]

While one faded away into the depths, another surfaced.

With a sharp gasp, the body moved again. It was strange, to be something that could move on its own accord as it pleased. As expected, it wasn't an easy task to do. After all, how could you know if you had never done it before? With a wobbly movement, he pushed himself up to sit. The floor felt cold under his gloved hands. What a strange sensation. As his gaze wandered, he took in the room he was in. Dimly lit. Pleasant to the eye. His gaze eventually found the cube lying next to him and he picked it up. What a colorful, curious thing. Something about it made him feel warm. What was this feeling? He wasn't sure, but it felt important. He wanted to keep this. Mimicking what his host had done a moment ago, he pressed the item close to his chest and held it gently like a treasured friend. He was confused by how this body felt and moved but wanted to honor the person who had given it to him. He had been watching. He had seen the way the intern had been treated. And he had seen how they had treated his mask. They were kind. Their crew was not. He was unsure if his compassion was his alone or the result of inhabiting a body with such a sensitive mind. Was this how it felt to feel?

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the newly discovered emotions, he found himself sobbing. Red liquid dripped from the mask and stained its white surface as his muffled sounds echoed in the empty room.

It was ironic to take a life for yourself, only to feel just as lost and alone as they must have felt. Even so, in his mind, an equal exchange was made. They were granted the peace they wanted and he was given the freedom that he craved. While the unknown was frightening, this was what he wanted. He would figure things out. He would learn. He would live. For him. For them.

With a quiet, strained voice the newly formed Masked finally spoke his first words.

"Thank you… For lending me… Your life."

#lethal company oc #masked oc #ocstuff #dropping some Copycat lore and skittering away #there might be some grammar mistakes since I'm not a native English speaker but I'm happy with how this turned out #it's been a while since I've written longer things like this #I might write some continuation to this later #Or just like general adventures of Copycat type of stuff

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