true fashion is socks with geeze
Clover she/he/it, adhd creature, ru/eng
kinda? writer, but mostly scream about daily life
see pinned to figure out currents hyperfixatins
I am Clover (she/he/it), welcome to my page! I talk about loads of different things, though mostly my everyday life
Let’s start with the basics
DNI: Trump/Putin/other dictator’s supporters, queerphobia (INCLUDING polyphobia, aphobia and etc), ableism, TERFs, generative AI supporters
More pleasant things:
Adhd, non-binary, queer, philology student, dnd player
Currently will bubble about: The Pitt(!!!!!), maybe Heated rivalry, possibly Pathologic These are not my only fandoms, I’m eager to talk about a lot of other things
Sometimes I write! Though English is not my first language, so most of my texts are in Russian. But headcanons are not!
Feel free to dm me or send me an ask!
Also have have a picture that was done to show the vibes of my lil blog
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okay so in the book when bilbo was able to break out the dwarves from the elvenking's dungeon, thorin said something about how they will be for ever at bilbo's service. and i think about how erebor did not disclose bilbo's identity and whereabouts to the servant of sauron, how some dwarves helped him in his 111th birthday, and how when some dwarves passed by the shire they looked on the place with wonder and gratitude for there was the hobbit who helped the dwarves restore erebor
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If Grace could not fully get out of teacher mode even after being in a coma for years (the Rocky my hand is up scene), I can not even think how much worse it would get after he actually takes up teaching again at Erid.
I can imagine Grace, still in that "has been teaching for five hours" haze, trying to have a conversation with Rocky like:
"That's a great answer, buddy, you have earned yourself a sticker... Oh shoot Rocky I'm so so..."
"Yes, yes, Grace very sorry for speaking to Rocky like child, Grace brain thinks Grace still in classroom, apology accepted now where is my sticker question"
When he found out about what happened to Grace, Rocky was reasonably horrified and livid. On their way to Erid, Grace hears the most beautiful tune he cannot seem to understand. It doesn’t sound Eridian, it just sounds like regular music. He sees Rocky on his laptop messing with Garage Band. Grace asks what’s up, very amused. Rocky tells him,
I know there's a popular headcanon that Grace's crew died because of feeding tubes malfunction (based on the paperwork Grace was doing right before the explosion), but — in the book he specifically says that even after the accident he kept dealing with that same paperwork on minor Hail Mary issues, so I doubt that feeding tube problem was left unaddressed. May I offer instead:
Grace was put into coma by the people who cared about him. They (especially Yáo being Yáo) probably double-triple-quadruple checked everything. They watched him sleep for those first few days — I doubt they went into coma immediately after leaving Earth's orbit. They probably talked to him, assuring him that he'll be okay.
Ilyukhina's coma procedure was probably supervised by Yáo. He made sure that everything was in order, but — he is just one man and he is not a doctor. There was much more room for mistakes.
When Yáo went to sleep, he was alone. He had to rely on the technology completely.
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Does the book explain how Stratt knew about Grace and his paper?
Because what I'm imagining is that when they found potential life they reached out to the leading expert in the field, and when they told him that the aforementioned potential life was found on the surface of the sun the first words out of his mouth were "If that motherfucking asshole was right about water-based lifeforms this whole time I'll destroy this planet my goddamned self"
At which point Eva "I need people who piss people off" Stratt started making phone calls
You've heard of Rocky giving Grace cuteness aggression, but I raise you Grace giving Rocky cuteness aggression - but specifically in the way that you see a dog that’s so ugly that it becomes the cutest thing of all time. Grace is gross and squishy and leaky and he'll do literally anything and Rocky will have to fight the urge to squeeze him and hold him and sing the Eridian equivalent of 'aww.' Grace is that nasty crusty smelly dog you see at the animal shelter that you immediately want to take home because you know nobody else will want it. He snores in his sleep and Rocky has to try not to squeal.
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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.”
“Long time,” Rocky agrees. “Long, long time.”
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