Tag: untranslatable words bingo

Cafuné (Shard-verse)

Cafuné (Brazilian Portueguese): The act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.

Rated G. 872 Words. CW: mentions of being in the hospital, weight loss due to illness. Set in the morning after Gökotta

Delia woke to the smell of fresh coffee and dragged herself out of bed. Washing her face and running her fingers through her hair was enough to make her presentable enough to head for the living room. Quigley had said they’d come early, even though it wasn’t Wednesday, to celebrate Nathan being home. Nathan was sitting in the corner of the couch, Joel sprawled over the rest with his feet in Nathan’s lap, each with a book. She leaned down and kissed the top of Nathan’s head.

“Oh, hi!” Nathan tilted his head up and got another. “Our ghost is sneaking around again.”

She scoffed, petting his hair. “You were just distracted.”

“I heard her,” Joel said without looking up from his book. “Hi mom. Quigley’s going to make French toast if you want to tell them you’re up. They said they were starting the dusting.”

“You’re hungry then?”

“I’m a growing kid,” he said dispassionately.

“You can’t use that excuse that much longer.” She ruffled his hair on her way by and rolled her eyes at his fake grimace.

~ ~ ~

Delia couldn’t stop watching Nathan as they ate. It’d been almost three months since he’d been home. He’d lost weight and was even paler than normal. He’d tied his hair back like usual, but instead of it flowing down his back and shoulders like liquid gold, it lay lifeless where it didn’t stick out like dandelion fluff. He smoothed it unconsciously and irritation flickered over his face. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Hey. Love you.”

He shrugged. “I’m a mess.”

“It’s fine.” He squeezed back before letting go to grab another piece of French toast before Joel ate it all. “I have to run into the office to take care of a couple of things that can’t wait. Anything you two want me to pick up while I’m out?”

“Can you stop at Action-Os for my comics?” Joel asked.

“If you give me the money for them.” He rolled his eyes and stole a piece of bacon from her plate.

“Yeah, there’s a couple of things,” Nathan said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

“Thanks Del.”

~ ~ ~

He was napping when she got back, splayed out on the bed with his arm over his eyes. She smiled and set down the bag from the pharmacy in the bathroom before sitting down next to him. He made a soft sound and rolled over.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hey handsome.” She ran her fingers through his hair and he leaned his forehead against her leg with a happy sigh. “Can I wash your hair?”

“I did it last night.”

“Mm. I got some different conditioner. For dry hair.” He made a face – he’d always had the opposite problem. “I haven’t gotten to play with your hair in ages and a couple of the nurses definitely wanted to keep you, you flirt.”

He turned and smiled up at her. “I can’t help it.”

“In the hospital and still a heartbreaker.” She poked him, gently, in the side. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

He propped himself up. “Apparently by letting you wash my hair.” He rubbed his eyes. “Well, at least I get to see a beautiful body.”

Delia scoffed. “Come on. Let’s get our beautiful bodies off the bed.”

Delia had insisted on a big fancy tub when they moved in and once again was glad for it. Getting into the tub involved more than the usual amount of kissing and groping. Finally Nathan leaned against the side and side. “I’m getting really tired of being tired,” he grumbled.

“You’ve gotten through a lot.”

“Yeah…”

She grabbed the shampoo. “Come here.”

He rouched out and snagged her foot with his. “Nope. Too tired.” She splashed him gently and came over.

~ ~ ~

He sighed happily as she massaged the lather through his hair. “That’s nice.”

She leaned over and kissed a suds-free patch of skin. “Lean back.” She caught his smirk. “And not onto my chest.”

“But I’m tired. I need a pillow.” But he obligated and helped rinse out his hair. He wiped his eyes as she reached for the conditioner. “This is much nicer than at the hospital.”

“You weren’t tempted by the cute nurses?” she teased.

“I didn’t see any as cute as you.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Liar.” Conditioner and leave-in conditoner later, his hair was feeling less like straw and more like its usual silk.

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Braid my hair?”

“Of course.”

He pulled out the seat at the counter and sat as she found a com and hair band, the both of them in just towels around their waist. She was careful as she ran her fingers through his hair to ease out the tangles before follwing with the comb.

“How long are you planning on spoiling me?” he asked as she started to braid.

“I don’t know. How long are we planning on being married?” She was a fast braider and soon she was tying it off. “There you go. Come on, I’m getting cold.”

He pulled it forward and ran his hands over it. “Thanks, love.”

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Gökotta (Shard-verse tidbit)

This is set after Nathan gets home from the hospital following the events in Devotion

Gökotta (Swedish): To wake up early in the morning with the purpose of going outside to hear the first birds sing.

Rated G. CW: being in the hospital is mentioned but no details given, mention of weight loss (not dieting)

Nathan was a morning person, but usually a bit later in the morning. But this was the first time he’d slept in his own bed since his accident. He’d even gone to bed later than usual, not as late as Delia, but it was almost 10 pm before his eyes got heavy. He’d slept so much at the hospital, even if it was poorly and often interrupted. He’d woken up a bit when Delia climbed into bed and wrapped her arms around him.

“God, I missed you,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around her strong ones. This was the final piece of being home – being in their bed, together, entwined. He sighed and fell asleep quickly. If he dreamed, he didn’t remember it. He’d had strange dreams in the hospital, some of them disturbing, most of them just fragments of nonsense.

He woke up, laying on his back. The room was dim and comfortable and Delia was still snuggled against him. He turned over and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He’d missed her so much. She’d always been a reliable presence, strong and graceful. He sighed noiselessly. He was fully awake. He carefully extricated himself from the sheets. Delia was a heavy sleeper, but still.

In the bathroom, he closed the door before turning on the light. He usually tied his hair back before bed but had forgotten, and it was a rats nest of tangles. “You’ve looked better,” he told his reflection. He’d lost weight. He’d fix that in time. He washed his face and then grabbed his brush and sat down to deal with the tangles.

The first hints of dawn were just beginning. He stood and pushed open the window. The air was chilly, but fresh in a way that the sanitized hospital air never was. After a moment, and several knots untangled, the birds started to welcome the sun with joyful song. He smiled and leaned back to listen.

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Iktsuarpok (Shard-verse)

Iktsuarpok (Inuit) – The feeling of anticipation that leads you to keep looking outside to see if anyone is coming. (This definition is questionable – I could only find it in lists of untranslateable words)

One of Magpie’s and Wild Streak’s get-togethers, but he’s running late, as usual, but apparently not for the usual reasons

CW: mentions of parental abuse (literally, it’s just mentioned that Daisy was abused), mentions dangerous driving and police, implied relationship with significant age difference (they aren’t dating at this point, but Daisy is in high school and everyone else is far beyond that)

Rating: G

Magpie put down the lock and her tools. Dammit, she didn’t expert Wild Streak to be on time, but this was getting ridiculous. They didn’t get together that often, and usually at Wild Streak’s place. This time, he’d said – and it was obvious he was being prompted by Charles, the sweetie – that he didn’t want to disturb Daisy while she was doing homework. She’d thought she’d had him figured out years ago, but turned out he still had surprises. No idea who Daisy was, but it was the first time she’d heard that sort of affection from him.

She turned up the police radio. She hadn’t heard anything, but nothing else was as in character for him as catching the attention of some cop. He’d get away, probably, and have a good time doing it. Of course, that’d only be if Wild Streak was driving and his boys had stopped that ages ago. Andre was smart enough to keep the cops from noticing them.

A knock on the door. Finally!

Wild Streak strode in, the mannerless oaf, carrying his kit like it was weightless. She grinned. “What took you so long?”

His smile faded. “Oh. Uh. Daisy was upset.”

Andre prompted from a step behind him. “She doesn’t know who Daisy is yet.” He waved and held up a big cookie tin. “Hi Magpie. Charles sent snickerdoodles.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“Got it.” Andre headed that way.

Wild Streak set his bag next to the couch and flopped down. “Somebody was teasing Daisy. At school,” he started, pulling out his lockpicks.

She rolled her eyes. “Backtrack a bit there. Why do you have a school age kid at your hide-out?”

“Her dad abused her,” he said with a shrug.

“Since when do you care?”

Another, more eloquent shrug. “Since it was her.”

Andre returned with a tray with cookies and drinks for all of them. “We don’t get it either, but he adores her and she’s a peach.”

“Okay then, how’d you meet her?” And his face lit up, like she’d only ever seen when he was bragging, and he started his tale.

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Saudade (Shard-verse)

Note: Swordcat is another sorta-multiple character in the Shard-verse. The body really is Leon Smith’s, but it was transformed when he picked up the sword, which has a personality that lives in his head and sometimes steers the body around, because swords don’t have hands. Stomlin Ward keeps the sword in the freezers because then Leon can be a calm, somewhat dim, cat. (Relevant vignette/post)

I’m incredibly proud that I managed to get this down to a perfect drabble. CN for implied genocide of humanity and of an alien race, freezing, burning, specieism

Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost.

Leon dreamt of memories not his own.

Leon wasn’t like its lords before (how long ago? how- its thoughts skittered and it shuddered in the ice). Leon was grey compared to the lords’ passion. That didn’t matter. Glory would be restored, shining cities and green forests. It would be carried again by lords with thundering voices and soft wise words and dazzling eyes matching its own. And then no more coldness, no more loneliness, no more wrong-smelling air – flat, oily like enemies of old – no more furless parodies of people.

No more memories of burning and cold, cold, cold.

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