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"it would be so good if it was good" will haunt you but "it's extremely good, except for the one or two parts which are so bad it's genuinely kind of insulting" will straight up drive you insane
yknow its interesting how something can impact one demographic in a completely different way than everyone else. in the exorcist when the demon starts speaking in greek, to most people its creepy. but if youre greek and you suddenly start hearing the demon speak perfect fucking greek its genuinely the biggest scare of the movie. you just do not expect to ever hear your language in american movies so it catches you so badly off guard, it feels like the movie is talking directly to you
the first time my dad saw it, it was with his american friends. and when she started speaking greek he turned to one of them and was like "re malaka did you hear that in english?"
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we have to thank our brave soldiers in fandom who write gen fics. we have to thank our brave soldiers in fandom who write character studies and stories with no focus on romance or sex. we have to get on our knees and thank the brave soldiers in fandom who write about minor characters and friendship and family with no focus on romance or sex. i know it’s hard to care about characters in a world that seems to only revolve around ships but i see you. and i love you
Alt Text: Video of a young woman with Downs Syndrome listening at the door while her parents discuss which dress to wear to a wedding. They present options that without asking her. She throws open the door and states she wants to be in the room when decisions about her are made, and she doesn't like either option. The scene changes to include people with different disabilities chiming in that they want to be included in decisions about themselves. They are of many different races and ethnicities and disability statuses. The young woman reveals her chosen outfit--a very fun tulle skirt in purple with a black top and black jacket.
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its really unfortunate that padme no longer used the body double approach to security after aotc because the concept of the queen of fakeout deaths being married to the guy who loses his shit at the thought of her dying is honestly the wildest fucking thing and i think it's underutilised. let's give anakin a few trial runs before his big breakdown ok. maybe seeing padme getting assassinated live on space tv on a monthly basis will let him microdose on acceptance and inner peace. he can get into a different stage of grief each time and maybe when rots rolls around he will be fine
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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.”
“autism wouldn’t have been difficult before capitalism” “nothing that caused me burnout existed before industrialization” well what if your boots feel weird against your skin. and your cape is itchy and too heavy. and your brooch keeps making an annoying sound everytime you move and this party is too loud and you’re hungry and there’s pigeon stew but you can’t stand the texture of pigeon so you ate some olives and now your hands feel oily and gross and you drank a little bit too much wine (bc there’s no clear water. also it was too bitter) so now your head hurts and you feel a little hot but not hot enough to take your cape off and you promised this time we leave when I asked, Aurelius! you promised! and don’t forget we still have a three hour ride back home you promised it’s not going to be like last time! or something of the sort.
the ‘Life only started sucking in the 19th century’ attitude as anti-capitalist praxis is truly hilarious like. personally, if the sun was even a tiny little bit too hot on the back of my neck while i was being kidnapped and taken as a war captive after *insert empire here* conquered my home i wouldve been pissed. praefectus if the shackles feel weird on my skin im killing us both
gummygunk
blakekathryn
kianamaiart
