#here I know how much you love these <3< /div>
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titsful · 2 years ago
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Good day to everyone, except to the person who made this.
I hate you and I will find you, count your days bitch.
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sabertoothwalrus · 1 month ago
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appreciation post for the second half of dungeon meshi where senshi clearly starts treating chilchuck more like an adult. and also how the two of them start looking incredibly married
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arsenicflame · 7 months ago
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Bonus round! Do you use a queue tag?
#ive been super curious about this because people seem to have really strong opinions on the queue! so many people seem to HATE it#but i love using the queue! i dont really know exactly why i like it so much- i started using in like... 2016 and its a fundamental part of#my tumblr experience now. i think i started off just using it for offline hours so id hit most my american mutuals (/ for aes posts)#but these days basically everything goes in my queue (cept time sensitive things & like. current hype and original posts-#anything 'normal' posting is in the queue)#idk it feels. nice to me! i like to spread out my posting and not rb 30 things in half an hour and then disappear for the rest of the day#esp since my spaces are so circular- the same post runs on my dash a dozen times minimum. and i get to put it on ur dash a week late!!!#and its so nice to have small interactions with mutuals in incompatible timezones; to open up my notifications in the morning#and go: oh! my friends were here <3#its such a Part of the tumblr experience for me i dont think i could ever truly change now. maybe switch to timed queueing#but my availability changes so much i prefer to just. know i guess#but (i am so sorry for all that) im curious about how other people feel!!!!!! itd be so interesting to hear abt why people do/do not like i#i know some people like the experience of spamming and going. some people think it makes this seem to much like influencing or whatever#everyone has their reasons and i want to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#nyxtalks#poll#queue#no see answers option because you must fall into one of these
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kimtaegis · 7 months ago
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three superheroes, anpanman! for @sopekooks ♡
cr. jung-koook
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months ago
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I want you whipped into shape!
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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hellsquills · 3 months ago
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Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want
My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)
My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.
However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.
Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????
He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.
And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.
Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.
Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.
In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.
One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.
He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.
He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".
He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).
"Ya'lright, son?"
The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."
He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.
" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"
Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.
"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.
"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."
The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."
Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-
"Sweet Mother of God almighty."
Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.
"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"
The fuck?
"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.
"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.
The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.
"Are you Stanley Pines?"
Well, that's about it.
Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.
"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."
Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.
"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."
This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.
"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."
"Listen, I-"
"Move out of my way."
"I know your brother."
The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.
"You look just like him-"
Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.
The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.
"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"
It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?
Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.
"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."
Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.
He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.
"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."
Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.
"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."
Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.
Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.
"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."
______________________________
Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.
Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol
Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.
In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)
I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months ago
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Clone^2 - Separation Strikes
"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.
His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.
Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.
And it was summer; Damian starts today.
"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."
Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.
"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"
"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."
Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.
Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.
Danny just...
His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.
He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.
Not like he was.
Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.
He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.
Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.
His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.
(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)
Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"
He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.
Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.
He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.
Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."
"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.
Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?
He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."
Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"
Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.
And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.
His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."
Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"
That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"
Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.
"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."
Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.
"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."
Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#dpxdc ficlet#clone^2#clone danny fenton#MAN I LOVE THIS AU SM#clone danny#danny fenton is a clone#i lomv. them :((( SO MUCH. I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM. i had this idea since talking to purple-goo-writes abt clone danny last week#they mean everything to me. they are the brothers ever. so family coded. don't ask me about the timeline here it doesnt exist#its post-danny's hands getting permanently fucked up and thats it lol.#parent danny is great but 'big brother danny' is SO fucking fun to write. he's silly and goofy and annoying in the way only siblings are#smth about writing danny being so full of love and kindness and protective compassion. bleeding heart that he is. its like doing cocaine#chaotic danny is SO fun and silly but kIND danny is. holy shit its better than getting high. altho ive never been high so i can only guess#there's just smth addictive in writing him being affectionate and loving and caring. he's heartful and heart full.#he's sweet - not like sugar - but like caramel. fulfilling and chewy. a kindness that gets stuck in your teeth and melts on your tongue#he's such an annoying older brother. i love him#bal mithai is a type of pakistani dessert btw. since Nanda Parbat is based off the mountain nanga parbat which is in pakistan. i figured#that the food damian had in the league might've been pakistani-based. or at least heavily pakistani in orign. maybe. i just didn't wanna#look up 'arabic desserts' and pick the first one off the list. felt inauthentic that way alsdh#translations since you wont get it through google translate:#1. 'are you nervous beloved?' 2. 'no! I am not nervous!' 3. 'I'm not everyone' 4. 'let me go brother!'#while i dont usually use 'little brother' or 'brother' as terms of endearments between siblings. Jazz canonically calls Danny that and#i figured if i worded it in a way that sounded natural. it would sound less soul-crushingly cringy. look as someone wit THREE siblings.#i know exactly how siblings interact with one another. but this felt like a special exception. they don't say it often
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tabooiart · 1 year ago
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mr goatman... goat me a man.... make him the goatest that ive ever seen...
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ganondoodle · 4 months ago
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carefully attempted to draw (still sick); wanted to give Shargon another redesign, this is an older version of him but the basics should also go for his younger self (idk yet about his lung replacement design; arms are posed weird to make anatomy clearer)
(wip, oc art, Shargon, he/they)
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ahalliance · 5 months ago
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antoine + étoiles insane moments, p.2. aka the ass saga. p1 here
transcript + context for some of the clips below
[Video Transcript:
[First clip plays.]
Rivenzi: You want to see Etoiles’ ass, of course…
Antoine: Yeah, I’m gonna stare at your ass, Etoiles…
Etoiles: Fuck, what dread, during Popcorn [a talkshow Etoiles had been invited on the previous week], when I went up to the map and you said that, and I thought ‘whoa—‘
Antoine: Sorry
[Second clip plays: the moment during Popcorn]
PA/Domingo: Antoine Daniel has posted a tweet for us: ‘I wanted to look at this map of Africa, but Etoiles’ ass in the shape of a standing bell is driving me crazy. Smiley face with eyes in the shape of hearts.’
[Third clip plays: a continuation of the first clip.]
Antoine: Sorry, bro…
Ponce: Oh but that tweet, besides
Rivenzi: A standing bell…
Antoine: What’s more is that I never tweet and when I do it’s to tweet this sort of shit
Ponce: That’s exactly what I told myself. When PA read the tweet, I thought to myself, ‘but he never tweets!’ And he tweets to talk about Etoiles’ ass
Antoine: There needs to be a good reason, you see
[Fourth clip plays: a clip from the Team du Lundi’s minecraft server.]
JDG: Someone (in chat) said, ‘I can’t tell whether the atmosphere is good tonight or—‘
Antoine: It sucks, it sucks
Florence: You don’t need to ask every time, it always sucks
Baghera: Always sucks. Especially when Etoiles talks about ass [which had been a previous topic of discussion for him that night]
Antoine: Stooop, I enjoy it
Mynthos: You enjoy it?
JDG: It’s true tonight that it’s more weird than bad
Antoine: I like it when Etoiles talks about ass….
[Fifth clip plays: a second and different clip from Popcorn.]
Etoiles: —you’re not allowed to tell me that [Xari claimed to not know much about cinema]. I know you, I studied, because you’re my rival [in pop culture]. I really enjoy what you do in life, Xari, and you’re really knowledgeable about cinema
Antoine: What do you mean he’s your rival? And I’m just shit?
Etoiles: You, you’re my lover
Antoine: Oh yeah, sorry, my bad
PA/Domingo: One of the three is gonna die soon. There’s a whole situation, there’s a whole lore
[Sixth clip plays: a clip from the QSMP.]
Antoine: Don’t you want to get married, dude?
Etoiles: Well, I don’t have the time to fuck
Antoine: What the fuck?!
Etoiles: I don’t have time to fuck, dude. I just need to kill everyone
Antoine: No but just a marriage, you see. You’ve watched Game of Thrones— you haven’t watched Game of Thrones, you can’t know how marriages work in that series
Etoiles: I’ve watched it, but I’m married to the street, dude. I can’t give out my heart that quickly
Antoine: Yeah but you can give out your ass quickly, no?
Etoiles: No, frankly, my ass—
Antoine: What the fuck?!
Etoiles: Giving out your ass takes time, dude
Antoine: What the fuck…
Etoiles: Then again, I need to think about it. I’ll give you my answer. I need to discuss, and everything
Antoine: I’m tired of getting betrayed. You get married with someone else—
Etoiles: Never in a million years!
Antoine: —it’s like yesterday. Apparently Maximus got the mic from his ass removed while I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be the one to do it
Etoiles: Oh okay, so I’m your second choice?
[Overlapping]
Antoine: No! It was just to help him—
Etoiles: No, but, okay
Antoine: He got— listen—
Etoiles: There’s no problem!
Antoine: Fuck, nevermind
Etoiles: There’s no issue! Oh, so you’re opening my chest and stealing?
Antoine: I was just looking! Out of curiosity
Etoiles: Yeah, that’s it
Antoine: I don’t even understand what’s in it
Etoiles: Yeah, out of curiosity. Dude, your opinion on my cave?
Antoine: Well frankly it’s big
end Video Transcript.]
#antoine daniel#etoiles#étoiles#jay clips#qsmp#<- this is an appropriate tag wait till the end . it makes up half the video too#4/08/2024#le fameux bol tibétain d’étoiles…. traduit pour les inters#and i call it a saga here because the clips here span from early 2021 to mid 2023#you know the first clips are old because antoine is still using twt at that point#not included here; a zlan 2024 clip where étoiles yells ‘fuck me in the ass’ (french) at antoine 👍#also not included ; a serveur du lundi clip where étoiles jokes about antoine having a leash at home#antoine denying this and étoiles saying ‘well i spent a weekend at your place’#????????? yeah sure why not#ALSO re the qsmp clip antoine brought up the marriage possibility after hearing about the upcoming spiderbit wedding <3#bro sounds so fucking needy in the clip it’s sending me . how can i make this into qantoine lore……. this WAS the period where things were#slowly changing within the french dynamic (aka . they were meeting and talking to new people) and qantoine was growing increasingly paranoi#about trusting people then……. him trying to hold onto someone he loves dearly because he’s not sure if he can keep up with him…..#anw some other translation type notes read if ur interested in that:#wasn’t quite sure on the best way to translate ‘l’angoisse’ here . i went with ‘dread’#literally it translates to ‘anxiety/anguish/dread/etc’ but it’s used in a very flippant way in slang#so anguish felt a bit strong here . when someone says ‘oh l’angoisse’ about something it’s usually to mean an uncomfortable or unusual#scenario . but the intensity of that very much varies#OH ALSO : if anyone wants the sources to each of these clips lmk#i may just add them here later when im less tired#insuline & nicotine
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Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡
#may 31th anon#hello friends!! (。’▽’。)♡ how are you!! I missed you so much!#I'm sorry that once again i have not been posting but I did that thing again where I got scared of posting#I do not know why but it is the same with physical paper diarys#I have 3 diarys and they all have 1 entry#I think one just says 'I am ten'#what have you been up to!! did you do something fun? is it summer too where you live? c:#my tumblr messages seem to be broken! I'm sorry if you wrote something :C it just says 'no new messages' despite also saying new messages#not a lot has happened here! I got a tomato plant and then I got very invested into the tomato plant and I have eaten three tomatos so far (#my roses are also doing well!! I just got a new yellow rose and since she got here she only made orange flowers#I do not know the meaning of that#but I am very thankful! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ I love it when things are orange!!#I've been trying to buy an orange shirt for the past 2 weeks but they always sell out before I get to them#I'm also thinking about buying a jean jacket#I have not worn a jean jacket for at least 15 years because one time in 7th grade  tthe girl behind me said#that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason#but maybe she just thought that it was an acutal cool jean jacket#we'll soon have out 10 year school reunion#maybe I should ask her#is anyone else going to a secret Sherlock phase again#I just want to see that silly little hat again#would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket#have a nice day everyone!!#see you soon hopefully!!#♡^▽^♡
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screechingfromthevoid · 6 months ago
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Orym is giving very "I have fallen in love again and that feels like a betrayal to my dead husband" energy.
He's also giving "I care so much about my friends and I have to protect them but the love I have for one is so strong that it's distracting me AND it's not fair to the others"
Like there is so much love contained in the Orym and also so much guilt.
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lurkingteapot · 2 years ago
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Every now and then I think about how subtitles (or dubs), and thus translation choices, shape our perception of the media we consume. It's so interesting. I'd wager anyone who speaks two (or more) languages knows the feeling of "yeah, that's what it literally translates to, but that's not what it means" or has answered a question like "how do you say _____ in (language)?" with "you don't, it's just … not a thing, we don't say that."
I've had my fair share of "[SHIP] are [married/soulmates/fated/FANCY TERM], it's text!" "[CHARACTER A] calls [CHARACTER B] [ENDEARMENT/NICKNAME], it's text!" and every time. Every time I'm just like. Do they though. Is it though. And a lot of the time, this means seeking out alternative translations, or translation meta from fluent or native speakers, or sometimes from language learners of the language the piece of media is originally in.
Why does it matter? Maybe it doesn't. To lots of people, it doesn't. People have different interests and priorities in fiction and the way they interact with it. It's great. It matters to me because back in the early 2000s, I had dial-up internet. Video or audio media that wasn't available through my local library very much wasn't available, but fanfiction was. So I started to read English language Gundam Wing fanfic before I ever had a chance to watch the show. When I did get around to watching Gundam Wing, it was the original Japanese dub. Some of the characters were almost unrecognisable to me, and first I doubted my Japanese language ability, then, after checking some bits with friends, I wondered why even my favourite writers, writers I knew to be consistent in other things, had made these characters seem so different … until I had the chance to watch the US-English dub a few years later. Going by that adaptation, the characterisation from all those stories suddenly made a lot more sense. And the thing is, that interpretation is also valid! They just took it a direction that was a larger leap for me to make.
Loose adaptations and very free translations have become less frequent since, or maybe my taste just hasn't led me their way, but the issue at the core is still a thing: Supernatural fandom got different nuances of endings for their show depending on the language they watched it in. CQL and MDZS fandom and the never-ending discussions about 知己 vs soulmate vs Other Options. A subset of VLD fans looking at a specific clip in all the different languages to see what was being said/implied in which dub, and how different translators interpreted the same English original line. The list is pretty much endless.
And that's … idk if it's fine, but it's what happens! A lot of the time, concepts -- expressed in language -- don't translate 1:1. The larger the cultural gap, the larger the gaps between the way concepts are expressed or understood also tend to be. Other times, there is a literal translation that works but isn't very idiomatic because there's a register mismatch or worse. And that's even before cultural assumptions come in. It's normal to have those. It's also important to remember that things like "thanks I hate it" as a sentiment of praise/affection, while the words translate literally quite easily, emphatically isn't easy to translate in the sense anglophone internet users the phrase.
Every translation is, at some level, a transformative work. Sometimes expressions or concepts or even single words simply don't have an exact equivalent in the target language and need to be interpreted at the translator's discretion, especially when going from a high-context/listener-responsible source language to a low-context/speaker-responsible target language (where high-context/listener responsible roughly means a large amount of contextual information can be omitted by the speaker because it's the listener's responsibility to infer it and ask for clarification if needed, and low-context/speaker-responsible roughly means a lot of information needs to be codified in speech, i.e. the speaker is responsible for providing sufficiently explicit context and will be blamed if it's lacking).
Is this a mouse or a rat? Guess based on context clues! High-context languages can and frequently do omit entire parts of speech that lower-context/speaker-responsible languages like English regard as essential, such as the grammatical subject of a sentence: the equivalent of "Go?" - "Go." does largely the same amount of heavy lifting as "is he/she/it/are you/they/we going?" - "yes, I am/he/she/it is/we/you/they are" in several listener-responsible languages, but tends to seem clumsy or incomplete in more speaker-responsible ones. This does NOT mean the listener-responsible language is clumsy. It's arguably more efficient! And reversely, saying "Are you going?" - "I am (going)" might seem unnecessarily convoluted and clumsy in a listener-responsible language. All depending on context.
This gets tricky both when the ambiguity of the missing subject of the sentence is clearly important (is speaker A asking "are you going" or "is she going"? wait until next chapter and find out!) AND when it's important that the translator assign an explicit subject in order for the sentence to make sense in the target language. For our example, depending on context, something like "are we all going?" - "yes" or "they going, too?" might work. Context!
As a consequence of this, sometimes, translation adds things – we gain things in translation, so to speak. Sometimes, it's because the target language needs the extra information (like the subject in the examples above), sometimes it's because the target language actually differentiates between mouse and rat even though the source language doesn't. However, because in most cases translators don't have access to the original authors, or even the original authors' agencies to ask for clarification (and in most cases wouldn't get paid for the time to put in this extra work even if they did), this kind of addition is almost always an interpretation. Sometimes made with a lot of certainty, sometimes it's more of a "fuck it, I've got to put something and hope it doesn't get proven wrong next episode/chapter/ten seasons down" (especially fun when you're working on a series that's in progress).
For the vast majority of cases, several translations are valid. Some may be more far-fetched than others, and there'll always be subjectivity to whether something was translated effectively, what "effectively" even means …
ANYWAY. I think my point is … how interesting, how cool is it that engaging with media in multiple languages will always yield multiple, often equally valid but just sliiiiightly different versions of that piece of media? And that I'd love more conversations about how, the second we (as folks who don't speak the material's original language) start picking the subtitle or dub wording apart for meta, we're basically working from a secondary source, and if we're doing due diligence, to which extent do we need to check there's nothing substantial being (literally) lost -- or added! -- in translation?
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papita474 · 4 months ago
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The memories they held till the end...
Another ver bc i wasnt sure about the shadow and a more HD picture of them :3
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emmodii-mode · 11 days ago
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Shadowheart @ Karlach:
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Lae'zel @ Karlach:
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Minthara @ Karlach:
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pianokantzart · 3 months ago
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:)
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