DEAD SERIOUS I HAVE NO MONEY
please stop flooding my inbox with donation requests :(
I'd love to help but i have 0 reach and, again, i am not capable of providing financial support.
Call me Tripp, Scout, MK, Loop, Avid, Finn, Aella, or Noodle :]
Current interests:
TMNT (mainly Rise and 2012) ((special))
ENA
Lego Monkie Kid
In Stars and Time (FUCK HELP HYPERFIXATION AAAAAUGH)
Cookie Run: Kingdom
Woflwalkers
Undertale
Hollow Knight
Silksong (in act 2; tips appreciated, but no major act 3 spoilers!)
Ninjago
Rain World (no Downpour spoilers please!)
AU masterpost can be found here!
(All banners by @/bunnysrph)
My Ao3 is justletmereadmyfics :] (will link later)
Request guidelines:
No:
Intense gore (a bit of blood/injury is fine, just no like... mutilated faces. Those are hard.)
NSFW
Complex bullshit
anything I disagree to :)
Sure:
OCs
anything not on the "No" part of the list
About me/fun banner(s):
Ace of diamonds :)
pangender and genderflux!
Any pronouns, they/fernself/alternating neopronouns preferred
Big fan of gore/horror/dark topics such as body horror and the effects of prolonged isolation. also timeloops
ADHD goes hard, y’all
Tag guide:
#justletmeart ||| for my art and drawings
#justletmetalk ||| random bullshit I'll say whenever I'm online
#justletmewrite ||| for my writing
#I've been asked ||| asks :D
#Masterposting all over ||| Masterposts
#moot boots ||| My lil friend buddies :)
#remember this shit ||| Cool stuff I have saved for later
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there will never be anything as funny as the mutual disbelief between long form and short form fic writers about each other's style.
short form writers look at people writing 100k+ fics as though this is some sort of talent given as part of a fae bargain, that the commitment required shows some sort of ungodly mental fortitude.
meanwhile long form writers look at people writing 1000 word one shots like god I would cut off my left nipple to be able to say anything concisely. i would love to play with multiple ideas. free me from the shackles of this child I have birthed. i love them but I now must take them to t-ball and doctor's appointments and they're going to destroy everything I own.
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Imagine a newly-arrived-to-Erid Grace, sealed in a small oxygenated observation room, lying asleep on a cushioned platform. So far, Rocky has been the only Eridian bold enough to put on a xenonite suit and join Grace in the room; other Eridian scientists are gathered just outside, listening to the alien shifting about -- in its sleep!!! -- and occasionally mumbling.
A particularly pessimistic and irritating Eridian is pontificating to the others, insisting on the highest degree of caution when interacting with the alien in any way, even if that comes at the sacrifice of speed in treating the alien's ailments. Rocky is furious at the implication of "even if that comes at the sacrifice of the alien, period", but silent, unwilling to express his counterargument at full volume and risk waking Grace. Still, he is almost vibrating with anger where he sits on the makeshift 'human-style' bed beside his friend.
"This creature moves about even when supposedly at rest! It's unnatural! Perhaps Rocky-hero only survived the journey here at all because he was safely on the other side of a barrier of xenonite and ammonia, out of this creature's reach. Who knows what violent urges and instincts are contained within that bizarre body?"
The collective attention of the gathered Eridians shifts to focus in on Grace's slumbering form.
As if on cue, Grace rolls onto his side, still snoozing away, and cuddles his whole body in a curve around Rocky's, in a shockingly-close mimicry of a parent [Eridian-cat-equivalent] curling around its [Eridian-kitten-equivalent].
Rocky is quite annoyed when the resulting chorus of [Eridian-"awww"-equivalent] IS enough to finally wake his human friend from his much-needed rest.
I also like to imagine a small subset of Eridians — maybe not bad people necessarily, but freaked out by a rapidly-and-suddenly-changing world and grasping for anything they can do to try and exert control over their circumstances? — jumping down Rocky’s figurative throat about him choosing to share so much potentially-sensitive information about Eridian anatomy and Erid’s culture, government, etc. with the first random sapient alien Rocky found floating out in space.
And then Rocky has to roll his figurative eyes and patiently (or not. Actually, definitely NOT patiently, that’s funnier) point out to those Eridians trying to scold him — the ‘random sapient alien’ freely chose to give ROCKY a massive data dump of information about the alien’s own race, including the precise location of the alien’s planet and instructions for how to build horrific weapons that could wipe out all life on that planet.
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“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
Eva Stratt who is the most powerful woman in the world and has a powerpoint ready the second she needs to explain project hail mary. and the title page is "what is project hail mary". exactly like you would do for a classroom presentation. no one is doing it like her
and Ryland Grace. a middle school teacher. is taking notes like this is a classroom.
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