#another edit: corrected a small typo

[carriehobbs]

I keep thinking about @/fauville’s tags (“#literally no one else calls the detective by a nickname #not their mom. not tina or verda”) on this post and how it's just another example of the way that the constraints of interactive fiction as a storytelling medium (e.g., limitations in what the writer knows how to code, inability to account for all players' (and player characters') reactions to the text, nuanced conversations reduced in-game to multiple choice answers, etc.) inadvertently provide characterization for the game's characters.

to use @/fauville's example of the detective's nickname: tina and verda should, at the very least, know that the detective has a nickname and should use it; however, they use the detective's first name instead. this is speculation (i don't know if mishka has ever gone on-record to say why nicknames were not a part of book 1), but I suspect, from a writing standpoint, that this decision was made because nicknames hadn't been included in book 1 (perhaps because mishka didn't yet know how to code nicknames in choicescript, or because she hadn't anticipated players wanting a feature like optional nicknames) and it would have seemed jarring for someone who has always called the detective by their first name to suddenly start using a nickname midway through book 2. unit bravo can get away with this change because they hadn't known about the nickname previously (doesn't know about the nickname -> learns about the nickname -> uses the nickname) in a way that tina and verda, who have known the detective for years, cannot (doesn't know about the nickname -> learns about the nickname -> doesn't use the nickname for years -> suddenly starts using the nickname with no explanation ??).

just because we, as players, can acknowledge and understand the external factors that influence a game's production (e.g., not knowing how to code a particular feature at the start of the series and later learning how to implement that feature, if this is indeed the case), doesn't mean that I think we should ignore the implications these gameplay (and game-making) decisions have for the coherence of the story and character. perhaps tina and verda's use of the detective's first name was motivated by external factors, but it still says something about the characters that they do so (perhaps it lends to the way that verda can sometimes seem more formal or put-together, or speaks to a past between tina and the detective before the detective started using a nickname, etc.).

even more interesting (to me, at least) are the implications that rebecca choosing to use the detective's full name has for rebecca's character and her relationship with the detective. rebecca will call the detective by their first name regardless of both their past relationship and their current relationship. in a low-approval playthrough, it is pretty easy to come up with reasons that rebecca might not call the detective by a nickname. perhaps she doesn't feel like she's close enough to the detective to use a nickname. perhaps she and the detective are so distant that she doesn't even know the detective would prefer to be called a nickname in the first place.

furthermore, what does it say about rebecca that she still won't use the detective's nickname even if they are close? we've seen through the series that, even on a high-approval playthrough, rebecca seems to feel a lot of guilt for not being around through the detective's childhood (regardless of how that guilt actually informed her actions) - is her refusal to use a nickname she should know about some kind of self-flagellation wherein she doesn't feel as though she deserves to be close to the detective and so she creates an artificial distance between them through the use of their full name? what motivation does rebecca have for not using the detective's nickname, and what does it say about her that she doesn't?

I just find it endlessly fascinating the ways in which the constraints of the medium can unintentionally provide characterization for the game's characters. I don't think that we, as players, should write off these moments of characterization just because they were the results of a constraint. regardless of whatever external factors influence the game's production, why, in-fiction, does a character do a certain thing, and what does that action or decision impact how we understand them?

#wayhaven if #sorry for saying the word nickname so much 😔 #edit: to be clear i don't think that anyone does write stuff off bc it's externally-motivated. this isn't about anyone in particular #i just think generally that we shouldn't #another edit: corrected a small typo

[pangolinheart]

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 9 - FAIR

In which Z'rhiki encounters an unlikely ally at a local street festival!

**Update: now edited for typos!**

Rating: General Genre: Fluff Characters: Urianger Augurelt, Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light) Word Count: 1,154 Content Warnings: None

Alright, this time for sure! The last one was so close! I can do this! Angle my wrist like this… keep my hand steady… AND-

“Doth mine eyes deceive? Z’rhiki?”

The sound of her own name startled Rhiki, disrupting her carefully positioned throw. The wooden ring, painted to look like a dancer’s tathlum, clattered down between the empty wine bottles, nowhere near finding a home around any of their necks. “Urianger?” She spared a frown at the carnival game before turning to see the familiar elezen.

“Indeed. Pray accept mine apology for the intrusion.”

Of all the places she might have expected to run into Urianger, this had to be towards the bottom of the list. It was a far cry from the solitude of the Waking Sands’ library, or even the whimsical, flower-strewn fields of Il Mheg. The street around them bustled with people. The air was alive with talking and laughter, punctuated by the shouting of barkers hoping to entice passers-by with their games or wares, and it carried on it the pleasant scents of all manners of food. Dusk had faded into night, and the streets were lit with brightly colored lanterns and twinkling strings of light, adding to the festive atmosphere. Though most might dismiss him as just another, ordinary fairgoer, to Rhiki he seemed out of place in such a crowded, lively venue.

“Don’t worry about it!” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the music and chatter. “What are you doing here?”

Urianger’s lips curved into a small smile. “The same as thee. Partaking of the myriad delights of the fair.”

“Really? Why?” The incredulous words escaped her mouth before she could stop them, and she hoped they didn’t come across as rude. Urianger’s smile faded, though not in a way that indicated he had taken offense. Instead, his expression looked… almost melancholy. Perhaps it was just the dim lighting.

“Thou seest through me like the thinnest of gossamer,” He mused. “Indeed, it was not mine intent to join in the revelries. However, upon the fall of twilight I found myself idle and could not help but to hear the jocundity of the carnival. My mind was grasped by a most singular thought – that such an affair was the sort that… Moenbryda might have enjoyed. Thus, did I resolve to wile away the evening with merrymaking, as she might have.”

“Oh,” Z’rhiki said, casting her gaze downward. She felt badly for asking, but also somewhat heartened by his truthful and open response. “Well, um, did you come by yourself?”

He nodded. “Thou art correct in thine assessment. However, mayhap I might pose the same to thee? ‘Tis passing strange to see thee in solely thine own company,”

She suddenly felt a little embarrassed. Was it that strange for her to be at the fair by herself? “I’m not alone! Fripon came with me!”

Urianger looked down to see the small white unicolt at his feet. Rhiki’s constant companion.

“A worthy escort.” He noted. He made no further comment, but she felt the urge to elaborate regardless.

“Usually, I would have asked Alisaie and Alphinaud to come,” she explained, “but they’re visiting home in Sharlayan this week. I asked Tataru if she wanted to go, but she wasn’t feeling well. And I have no idea where Thancred’s gotten off to. It seemed like a shame to miss out on the fun, though, so I thought I would just… come by myself!”

Urianger nodded. “I see,” There was an awkward pause, during which both struggled to decide whether or not to let the interaction draw to a conclusion. Any bad blood from his previous deceptions had long since cooled, but the two had never had much in common, and for a long time Rhiki had struggled to even understand his formal, archaic manner of speech. There were still times she found his musings oblique or downright nonsensical.

To her surprise, it was Urianger who broke the stalemate. “Mayhap…” He ventured “Thou wouldst like company? I am led to believe that such merriment is improved by the presence of friends.”

“Oh,” she was simultaneously caught off guard and flattered, not just by the offer, but by the fact that Urianger referred to her as a friend. She shouldn’t have been shocked, she supposed – the Scions were all, at least by technical definition, her friends. But it was still strange to hear Urianger use the word in reference to her alone.

She had almost certainly taken too long to respond, and Urianger shifted uneasily, perhaps thinking he had overstepped. He looked like he was about to open his mouth, probably to offer her an easy avenue of declining his invitation, but before he could she made a split-second decision and blurted out:

“Yeah, that sounds nice! Let’s walk around together. We never hang out!”

Urianger looked as shocked as she had felt, his eyes widening slightly. He recovered quickly, however, and smiled warmly. The expression suited him, she thought to herself.

“As thou pleases,”

At their feet, Fripon had begun snuffling around the hem of Urianger’s robes, apparently sensing the discomfort dissipate. He had always been very perceptive, and often mirrored Rhiki’s feelings towards people – even those she tried to hide, or didn’t recognize herself. He had never known quite what to make of Urianger. Maybe because she’d never known quite what to make of Urianger. Tonight, though, he seemed emboldened.

The tall man either didn’t notice the unicolt or made no comment. Instead, he had turned his head to look at the ring-toss game Rhiki had been attempting when he had first called out to her. “Once again, mine apologies for disrupting thine efforts. Hast thou been yet successful?”

Rhiki laughed sheepishly. “Not yet. It’s more difficult than it looks! I was trying to win that Major General plushie, but so far no luck.”

“Indeed,” Urianger’s eyes wandered the game stall, and he tilted his head from side to side, thinking. He lifted one hand to stroke his chin as he contemplated. “The angle and height at which one must toss is quite precise, as is the amount of force one must apply. It is clear to me that such a design is intended to minimize the odds of success.”

“Uh-huh.” Rhiki couldn’t tell if he was discovering this fact for the first time himself, or if he had intended to enlighten her. “That is kind of how festival games work.”

“However,” He removed his hand from his face and held a single finger up in the air. “I do believe it is possible to achieve, if one is only able to calculate the trajectory with sufficient accuracy.”

“Wait, really?” She looked at him askance. “Do you think you can do that?” He had to be bluffing.

He smiled again, exuding a quiet confidence, and nodded. “Mayhap! Would thou allow me to take the next turn in thine stead?”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite 2023 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #urianger augurelt #urianger #a realm reborn spoilers #auggie writes #rhiki tag #this one hasn't been edited at all i'm so sorry #but i thought this would be a really fun interaction #(urianger is so much fun to write) #i might continue it for today's extra credit prompt #if you enjoyed it stay tuned!

[angelademille]

Penlight Public Release 0.1596.1: Sayori Alter Storyline Progress

This post concerns the latest public release of my hypnosis-themed visual novel, Penlight. Please see this post for details of where you can get a copy of the latest public release for free.

Hey, everyone!

This month saw me pick up Sayori's most recent Alter story path again after having left it hanging earlier in the year. I'd been meaning to get back to it for some time now, and while I couldn't get much dialogue written I did manage to sketch out a tentative outline for the path all the way through to the end! Finishing the thing properly is going to be one of my goals for next month.

I also struggled on with one of the branch paths for Nozomi's Zombie Storyline, following some reader feedback I got last time (Hint: It's the one involving a whisper). There isn't much that's new, but I did at least work out the bulk of the next scene which sets us up for some more penlight-related shenanigans in the story to follow.

On the art side of things, two new CGs have been added.  One for Hiroko's Gullible story path and one for Nozomi's previously-completed path on her Zombie storyline.

Anyway, that's your lot for another month and yeah, next time we should see a lot more movement on finishing Sayori's latest storyline! Hope you look forward to it :)

What's New

WRITING: A small amount of additional script for Sayori's Alter story path and and an outline for its conclusion

WRITING: A small amount of additional script for Nozomi's Zombie story path

ART: New CG added for the Nozomi Zombie storyline

ART: New CG added for the Hiroko Gullible story path

Word count is now around 396,000

LOCALIZATION: Various edits and corrections to the Spanish script

Minor typo corrections

#penlight #visual novel #hypnosis #hypnotism #mind control #hypnokink #indiedev #vndev #renpy

[manonamora-if]

Previous word counts (from my old Word Docs): - English: 27.855 (approx.) - French (M): 31.050 (approx.) - French (F): 29.961 (approx.)* *Ending page was the same translation

Current Progress: - English word count: 30.362 (+ 2.507)* - French: waiting for English to be coded. - Recode: 0% *may go down.

Since the beginning of the month, I've started re-editing the monstrosity still available online. I have already added too many works for its own good. But, between the typos and awkward phrasings I could already pick-up, this extra work was needed. {And even with my re-writes/check, I am sure there will still be a few at the end of the day :P}

Oh did I think I was THE shit when I uploaded this game in the first place... Re-reading is feels like a slap in the face...

I have gotten actually much further than I though I would be by now (or less... to be honest, I have no conception of time anymore...). I am currently editing the second third of the game. Don't worry, the story itself will NOT change.

In this process, I am not just adding more words to make it pretty and sensible. I've been removing redundancy between passages (yay widgets!) and trying to combine the text between between similar cases (when I can). I have also been thinking about the general formatting of the text (breaking the document in smaller bits to read easier) and added a few more choices (mainly inconsequential or added a bit more variance in the text).

What else to expect in this update:

Story Edits: as mentioned above, correcting typo, grammar, punctuation, flow of the text/story.

Formatting: mentioned above as well, there will be more breaks in the passages. Instead of scrolling endlessly, you will be sent to a new passage. This will make saving easier for you as well!

Accessibility: Key-binding will be included in this update. I am thinking of adding a darkmode theme too (Is the current one still nice on the eyes?)

Language: I have found a way to made the French translation into one path only (adding a button setting to make it feminine or masculine instead). If I ever get a translation for another gendered language, this will be useful then too!

Word Count: 55.831 (+ 775)

I've also taken a shot at the next 3 rounds of EC to upload this month. It is... going? Round 10 has been edited, and I have even added a bit more choice/variation (non-consequential).

But I am having issues with writing the ending for that round. I have an idea, but I am not sure if it will work out? I should just start writing it and we will see where it goes.

Also... I have been toying with making a French translation for EC too. There are some issues with the use of adjectives (some go before the noun, some after AND match the genre) which will require different code. But I think I want to give it a shot. I've pinned it for later, otherwise my workload will be a mess...

Got the news from MelS: there is only one missing location left to write! Then small edits, then finish coding. If all goes well, Ch.2 should be complete by the end of October (for the release). Maybe no need for plan B! :D

Only one location left to write. If all is ok, CH2 will be complete by the end of the October and no need for plan B!

#ec #exquisite cadaver #progress #mtp #meeting the parents #ttateh #the trials and tribulations of edward harcourt

[tricitymonsters]

progress report 9/9

atlas is working on refining Akello’s face and body though the preview of his face that I posted here and on discord/pat*reon is going to be very close to final.  We’re basically just kinda refining his hair and beard look at this point.

yes i’ve seen sketches of his body and YES i’m pretty sure yall are gonna go nuts.  this man is so hot god.

speaking of pat*reon 🖕

nothing major, just incredibly frustrated with their website (as always).  Uploading multiple files per post is not working and that was one of my goals this week so ugh.

Also I have come to learn that their security team has either walked or was fired yesterday so I’m not sure if their site/server capabilities are impacted on the customer end because of that.

but let me be clear, I use pat*reon because there’s very few alternatives and more power to the skilled workers who left what was probably a really shitty environment.

ANYWAY back to why this was an issue- i’m trying to migrate all of the perks for pat*rons into 1 area > ergo converting the drop box concept art galleries into gallery posts on patreon itself.

To go with this i whipped up a really simple directory for pat*rons that will look something like this

EDIT thanks tumblr for making this reasonably sized thumbnail look like that Do You Love The Color of the Sky Post.  Very Cash Money Of You

The links will make you log in (where applicable) so all the right rewards will be accessible to the right ranks.

eventually both this and the character guide will be part of the tricitymonsters.com website but that requires a ton more coding/design work than carrd so I’m putting that slightly lower on the priority list for now.

Speaking of rewards I’m running behind on Galleria fills again but I’m hoping to get them polished off for yall this weekend.  I had some inconvenient happenings the last two weeks that really ate into my writing time. so.  Hoping to make up some lost ground this weekend.

the Amir 1.2 update is out for pat*rons!  This has no new content but it does correct some typos and other bugs that were notated with the 1.1 release.

The 2022 Spooktober Visual Novel Jam is in full swing for the 4th year in a row!  For those of you who knew me last year, you know that i sequestered myself in my house for 30 days straight to create the original Mori chapter of TCM as an entry!  I’m not submitting again this year as TCM has gained enough traction to warrant spending more time on, you should ABSOLUTELY go and check out the entries!  Game jams have some of the most innovative and novel gamedev you can find and its a great place to play something new or learn to make games yourself.

Starting October 1, you can play, rate, and vote on what games you like best.  You can play most games without an itch.io account but making one will let you vote + comment for extra fun.

The Spooktober Jam is organized by a group of people called Devtalk They’re also probably the nucleus for indie visual novels on the internet, at least outside of japan, and they were incredibly supportive in helping me learn how to make my game and helped me network.

Another tidbit of indie news, VN Game Den is maybe the largest Visual Novel/Otome/Romance Game journalism site out there that pays a HUGE amount of attention to small time indie devs, even ones as small as me.  They’ve been struggling to pull down sufficient funding for their writers and are on the verge of closing up shop for good.  Right now they’re running a last ditch fundraising push to try and recoup server/hosting costs, artist and writer pay, plus social media costs.  Running a website with tons of new content daily isn’t cheap and its a lot of hard work.  If you have the means, consider donating or spreading the word.  Indie Journalism is critical to cultivate in an industry dominated by corporate financial giants.

OKAY i’ve said my piece and done my indies supporting indies shill haha.  Thanks for reading!

#progress report #tricitymonsters

[quickscanapp]

Document scanning app for professionals

A scanning app with optical character recognition (OCR) is indispensable for getting organized and going paperless. The best scanning apps help you scan every type of thing – everything from tax documents in paper to birth certificates, whiteboard notes and business cards, to proof of vaccination forms and deeds and titles. They also come in handy for digitizing receipt app.

Here is a small story on how valuable it might be scanning your documents. Some years ago, I had to pick up a new passport and on that same day drop in for a visa. Right after I picked up the passport I thought "No malice in it but probably should have had a copy of this before I handed over such documents." So I took out my phone and scanned it. Sure enough, government or no government, the visa took more than two weeks and meanwhile I needed details of my passport for a bunch of other paperwork. Good thing one legible copy was saved digitally!

How Do Scanning Apps Work?

Using a mobile scanning app is not any different from snapping with your phone.

For instance, in an ideal setting, the document is laid out flat on a contrasting background, then the lens of your phone's camera should point at it. It's easy to use, too, with the built-in scanner app guiding users through the process of lining up the document and then telling them to hold still. 

A good mobile scanning app doesn’t adjust for slight movements of your hands and lets you edit the final product anyhow. Scanning itself takes a second or two. When the scan is accomplished, you see a preview of уour document. Finally, the app usually finishes with asking if you want more pages creating a new scan then all. And finally there are adjustments in color and cropping evident as well as other details.

What to Look for in a Scanning App

But the best scanning apps will get your documents clearly captured, make the text searchable, and help you save the finished files in the right places. Here's what to look for:

Automatic edge detection

A good scanning app should be able to automatically detect the edges of your document. When you point the camera at the paper, the crop marks that you see on the screen should zero in on the edges of the document on their own and adjust to different dimensions.

Save and export

Good scanning apps let you save or export your newly scanned texts, e.g. to Google Drive, Dropbox, or any other storage service of your choice.

OCR for editing and search

I had mentioned OCR right at the top of this article. When you have OCR the actual words of any text that you scan become textual. That means that you can copy and paste or edit the text. In other words, you will be able to scan a paper document, make it a digital document, fix typos or otherwise correct mistakes. Often, OCR is a paid feature.

Support for multiple pages 

This is where the scanning apps let you scan multiple pages in one go and will compile them into one final product. The highest-end of scanning apps will also correct for page distortion, such as when you are trying to slide pages out of a book to scan but can't quite get it to lay flat.

Does your business need a receipt scanning app?

What forms the most obvious way to look at is how complex and often the reimbursement process at your organization, when arises the question how necessary would be a receipt scanner app for business. Look at previous data regarding business expenses, and employees' involvement in it. Inquire if it will be perceived as useful by your staff.  

Check with the finance team most importantly for regular reimbursements of expenses and expense associated issues.

It can indeed do wonders for the entire workforce with respect to easy, efficient, paperless, online reimbursement and expense reporting without maintaining manual records. Another consideration is that an app for business receipt is usually not all the app can do. Most of the apps come with many more features in which this software might be useful in management of your budget and expenses.

Benefits of using receipt scanning app

Traditional way of settling reimbursement takes ample time for both employees as well as your finance team. The process is also susceptible to many errors. For example, if an employee ends up losing his receipt, then it will be very tough for him to claim a reimbursement for his expense.

This is where migration to a receipt scanning app might be helpful. It enables your employees to upload their receipt instantly through digital means. The optical character recognition software integrated into the app should also minimize some clerical errors that could be made during the manual data entry process of the receipts.

A receipt app for business typically helps your finance team too; with eReceipts they are not going to run around asking employees to file their claims.

How does receipt scanning make expense management easier?

Management of expenses in an organization had for the longest time been seen as a normal procedure only because no better alternative has come up.

He buys some item on behalf of the company, he collects the receipt, hangs onto it till month-end, files his claim with the receipt and waits for the reimbursements. That was how things were being done.

Expenses have been managed within an organization in the same old fashion as long as one may remember, and this has been regarded as normal procedure just because the better choice was not there.

And some items got purchased, on behalf of the business, by an employee, the receipt was collected for that purchase, and it was held until the end of a month, an expense report was filed with the receipt and they were slated for reimbursement. That's how it was.

Turns out, printing text fields on a computer is relatively easy. But turning physical images or documents with text into a readable text and thus converting it into the computer can be more contently extendable.

Thanks to technology enhancing OCR tools throughout time, we now have business receipt scanner apps that do exactly that. Throughout the years, optical character recognition software progressed to the point where it could recognize patterns pixel by pixel and identify text even in different fonts. 

FAQ

What are the advantages of a scanner in business?

Benefits of Document Scanning for Business

1) Maximized office space.

2) Better compliance.

3) Increased efficiency.

4) More security. 

5) Better customer service.

6) Eco-friendly environment.

What is the advantage of scanning information?

When you scan paper documents, it gives you a choice of backing then anytime, anywhere, several times, in your computer, your gadgets, and even on the cloud. It makes sure that after a few decades crawl down your life under the bridge, there are those essential bytes waiting still.

How does scanning help business?

Scanning- It is defined as the process of examination of the environment to identify the factors that may have an influence on the business. Environmental Scanning forewarns the enterprise to make appropriate strategic choices before it escalates into a malignant situation.

Why use a scanner app?

To go paperless and organize with an OCR-enabled scanning app. The best scanning apps enable you to capture all sorts of information from paper tax documents, birth certificates, whiteboard notes, business cards, proof of vaccination forms through to deeds and titles.

#quickscan #scanner #downloadapp #scantopdf #business #android apps #iosapp #documentscanner

[starlessea]

Ultimate Guide to Proofreading

Here’s the next installation of my writing tips series!

[Just a quick disclaimer: this isn’t meant to discourage anyone! We are all still learning. These are just some tips you may want to consider when editing your writing].

As a language / linguistics student, I tend to focus on the grammar, or just the overall presentation of my writing. Obviously, if you’re writing online or self-publishing, without a beta reader that is, then no one is going to scrutinise you over the small things.

However, it can elevate your writing SO MUCH if you simply proofread it. Often, I find myself taken out of the immersion of a story because a typo is so glaringly obvious. Most of the time, we can gloss over them and they don’t impact the reading experience too much - but if your work is littered with small errors, they tend to pile up.

Proofreading is an easy way to get your readers to stick with you - and it often doesn’t even take that long! You just need to know HOW to proofread, and it will save you time. 

1) Spell Checkers

I know this seems really obvious, but I read so much work that could be improved tenfold just by being copied-and-pasted into a spell checker. You can literally type ‘spell checker’ into Google, and use an online service.

Personally, I use Google Docs. I just Ctrl+A, Ctrl+C, and Ctrl+V my work into it - and it will underline the spelling mistakes in red, and the grammar errors in blue. 

It’s as easy as that.

2) Consistency and General Grammar Points

This section is by NO MEANS an exhaustive list, but I’ve just compiled the things I’ve noticed the most when reading online. 

American English vs. British English:

This one is quite self-explanatory. If you’re going to use American spellings, then use them consistently throughout - and vice versa with British. Some common ones to look out for include:

color / colour

neighbor / neighbour

humor / humour

(US/UK respectively)

I found a good article here that gives a more comprehensive list.

Homophones or the Question of Verb / Noun:

You may want to double-check that you’ve used the right form of a word (verb / noun) - especially if they sound the same. 

affect / effect

hoard / horde

practice / practise***

*See this article.

allowed / aloud

were / where

I know these can sometimes get a little tricky for non-native speakers - especially since English is really quite a weird language. But these are the most common errors I’ve picked up on.

A lot of the time, things like Google Docs won’t spot these - so it’s good to be aware of the TYPES of errors you’re trying to find.

Also, remember that Google Search is your friend. I can’t even count the number of times I look things up when writing - THERE IS NO SHAME IN IT. It doesn’t take long to check if you’re using a word in the correct context, or the correct form of the word.

Showing Possession:

A lot of people tend to get confused about using the genitive marker, apostrophe ‘-s’ to show possession. See the examples below:

[Disclaimer: don’t judge my name choices...]

Jade has a bag. That is Jade’s bag.

Jade Simpson has a bag. That is Jade Simpson’s bag.

Jade Simpson lives with her husband, John Simpson. They are the Simpsons.

That is the Simpson household. That is the Simpsons’ house.*** 

*This is the one most people struggle on. There are two Simpsons, so the apostrophe comes at the end to show PLURAL possession (i.e., belonging to BOTH Jade and John).

This is Jess. That is Jess’ bag.

Here, the above can be written as Jess’s, but the extra (-s) usually gets ellided if it is following an ‘s’.

Another thing people get confused about is its/it’s. 

In English, ‘it’s’ = a contraction of ‘it + is’ (NOT TO SHOW POSSESSION). ‘Its’ is the possessive form in this case.

E.g., The dog lost its collar; it is brown = The dog lost its collar; it’s brown (the collar is brown).

Punctuation Consistency:

Personally, I don’t mind what style of punctuation you use. Whether you put your full stops INSIDE your quotations, or OUTSIDE;

E.g., “Go away.” vs “Go away”.

or if you sometimes like using hyphens in place of a comma; likewise with capitalisation, and whether you decide to capitalise certain nouns etc.

But, whatever you choose, BE CONSISTENT WITH IT.

You don’t want to give your readers whiplash by changing styles every couple of lines. Otherwise, it’s like you’ve chosen one academic referencing style for your essay, only to switch it half-way through. It’s confusing. It may seem like a nit-picking point, but people will notice it - and it’s good written practice to focus on being consistent.

3) Formatting:

Dialogue:

PLEASE PLEASE start a new paragraph/line if SOMEONE NEW IS SPEAKING.

Your readers will be so confused if you don’t properly distinguish who is speaking. It takes away from the reading experience when you think one character has said a line, but it turns out to be another. 

Don’t just rely on “[...]” John said. We should know if someone new is speaking by the format, not just the name that follows the dialogue.

Paragraphs:

Don’t let your work be one block of text. Break it up and make it more digestible for your readers. Try to start a new paragraph for a new topic, place, thought, etc. You can find some really great guides online that go into more detail. Personally, I think it’s quite a stylistic thing - but you should still be consistent in how you choose to establish your paragraphs.

4) Other Things to Look out For

Detography: Have you written a word twice?

Pronouns: Are you using the following correctly?

their/they’re/there

your/you’re

Tenses: Are you sticking to the same tense? Are your verbs all conjugated in the same tense? Do you switch tense half-way through?

Repetition: Are you relying on the same words a lot. Are you using the same verb / descriptive word very close together?

For this, I just make a quick Google search:

E.g., “said synonym” or “angry synonym” - it adds variety to your writing.

Character Names: This seems obvious, but make sure you’ve spelt them correctly throughout - same goes for place names etc.

5) READ YOUR WORK ALOUD

I really can’t stress this enough. Even after studying language, literature and linguistics for as long as I have, I still miss so many of my own errors if I don’t read my work aloud. My editing process literally involves:

Write the draft

Read over the draft and correct any glaring errors

Copy and paste into a spelling/grammar checker

Re-read the new work and edit again

Read aloud and edit as I go

Final read through

Obviously I don’t do this every time - but it shows just how easy it is to miss mistakes when you’re still finding them during step 6.

6) Bribe a Beta-Reader (or a Friend)...

This is a really helpful step if you are able to find someone willing to check over your work. Often, we become blind to our own writing after we’ve read over the same thing a number of times. It can be really useful to get someone to take a look at it with fresh eyes!

Disclaimer: These are just some things I’ve noticed that I tend to look for in my own work. Also, I want to make a point of saying that English is a strange language, so please don’t be discouraged if you’re a non-native speaker feeling confused. I still get confused!

Also, please feel free to ask me any questions! I might not always be available to give a full beta-read of your work, but if you have any queries relating to grammar etc., don’t hesitate to drop me a message!

#writing #writing tips #proofreading #beta reader #proof reading #author #writer #writeblr #writers of tumblr #fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfiction #fanfic tips #fanfic writing #fanfiction tips #writers #writer problems #author problems #english tips #english language #english literature #linguistics #english language tips

[indelibleevidence]

Just felt like writing a 2x10 tag while I wait to hear if I can sleep, or whether I have to wait up for the gas meter replacement guy. This hasn't been edited, and I'm very, very tired. Errors are likely, so apologies for that (and for the lack of a cut - I'm in the app, and I always forget how to do it in the app).

***

Hugs

"You were serious, huh?"

Kurt looked up, startled by the sound of Jane's voice. She was leaning in the doorway to his office, looking as pale, exhausted and soul-sick as his reflection in the mirror had earlier.

He had a mountain of damage control to do, now that his team were all safe and accounted for, and receiving medical care, where necessary. Nas had taken on most of the taskforce's side of it, attempting to track down Borden and Shepherd, and overseeing the collection of evidence from the newly discovered Sandstorm sites. Meanwhile, Kurt was left with fending off the CIA, and dealing with the administrative shockwaves of losing twelve good people.

Their deaths deserved all his attention, but right now, he needed a break. Jane was a welcome distraction, and he gestured for her to come and sit down, even as he got up from his chair to sit on the edge of his desk.

"I was serious about what?" he asked.

Jane sat down a little gingerly - he suspected her fight with Shepherd had left some bruises, not to mention the car wreck.

"Being friends." She glanced up at him briefly, then away. "I, uh, wasn't sure if you just felt guilty because I found out about the party. But then, you hugged me."

"You looked like you needed it." He sighed, then admitted, "I kinda needed it, too."

That earned him a brief, weary attempt at a smile, one that faded quickly. "I was so terrified that none of you would make it out. I didn't know you weren't there, and when I saw that building blow..." She shook her head helplessly.

"I was scared for you, too. Shepherd doesn't seem to be the type to let traitors live." His words were inadequate. Even with so many casualties to worry about, his fear for Jane had gnawed at his brain, until he'd glanced over to the elevator by chance, just as she was brought in. He'd run across the bullpen, incensed to see that she was in cuffs, but so damn relieved she was unhurt.

"If not for Roman, I'd be dead. I was never supposed to leave that place alive."

The idea chilled his blood. "But you made it out. I'm glad."

Again, his words only conveyed a dull fraction of what he felt. Hiding frustration, he stood up. "Think I could use another hug, before I send you home to get some rest."

A shadow of surprise flitted across her face, quickly masked as she got to her feet. She fitted so neatly against him, warm and comforting, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. "I'll only go home if you will."

Kurt pulled away, heading back behind his desk, as though a barrier between them would make him less emotional. "I've got too much to do. But you should go - get some sleep. Roman will need you fresh."

"And everyone else will need you fresh," Jane countered stubbornly. "Kurt, you're exhausted. Any work you do now will be full of errors. You know I'm right."

He nudged his computer mouse, and his screensaver vanished. His eyes immediately fell upon a typo, and he corrected it with a sigh, before returning his attention to Jane.

"Maybe you're right. Come on - I'll drive you home."

She nodded, a small but genuine smile appearing for a moment. "Give me ten minutes? I need to say goodnight to Roman." Then she hesitated. "The CIA won't...?"

"Your brother's the most important lead we have right now. The CIA won't get near him, Jane. I promise."

"Thank you."

For a moment, they just looked at each other, silent and solemn, too weary to move or speak. Somehow, the moment wasn't awkward - until it stretched on too long, and they both dropped their gazes self-consciously.

Jane headed for the door with a half-amused, "Don't forget to save what you were working on."

He watched her retreating back for a moment, his mind stalling, too mentally sluggish to even process what he was feeling. Then he saved the document and logged out of the system, somehow managing a wry chuckle under his breath. State I'm in, I probably would have forgotten.

He lingered in his office for a few more minutes, giving Jane time to say goodnight to her brother. Something else he'd have to unpack his feelings about later - Roman's memory loss.

For now, he had to focus on driving home, getting Jane into bed - no, that wasn't what I meant - then getting to bed himself. Nas might join him later, but he kind of hoped she wouldn't.

It was too difficult to wipe his imagination free of the idea of sleeping beside Jane, both of them deep in restorative slumber, his arm draped over her in a loose hug as she spooned up against him.

And he was way, way too tired to think about anything more than that - with anyone.

#blindspot #blindspot rewatch 2021 #blindspot 2x10 #blindspot fanfic #episode tag: 2x10

[zutaraplatter]

Avatar: The Last Airbender Critique

There are already a million of posts like this one, and I might be saying things that’ve already been said a million times but I’ve recently become reheated about the ATLA ending and wanted to let it out -_- No one asked, this is true, and this may or may not be a way to stall from this final project I still have to complete, but here’s 10 things I didn't like and/or would change about the show that likely shouldn’t need changing because they should have been done in the first place.

1. Katara should have apologized to Sokka after TSR

It should have happened and it didn't. In my canon-avoiding mind, Katara and Sokka have a heartfelt conversation where she apologizes for the awful things she said, Sokka says he forgives her and he's sorry if he wasn't as there for her as much as he should have been, which he follows up with "but I'm happy you listened to Aang and took his advice," leading into my next point

2. Katara should have said that not killing Yon Rha was her choice

And thats why it was the right one. Not because Aang already said it was wrong. No no. It was the right choice because that's what she chose. I love my mom to death and can't imagine losing her in any way, let alone the way Katara did. And I can't say for sure that if I was in her shoes that I know what I would have done f that yes I do I would have killed that motherfucker. But I also know that if Katara decided not to kill him, then that was one of two correct choices because they were Katara's choices to make. Not Aang's or anyone else's and this should have been clarified. I know it's a kids show but I said what I said. Next point.

3. Katara should have said more after telling Aang she was unsure at the Ember Island Players

Katara hasn't had any trouble saying how she feels, especially when it comes to helping others and making them feel better, whether she was right or wrong. But she holds back or overly softens blows and seems to even shrivel up at times when it comes to Aang. And me no likey. I had a boyfriend who I adored and admired and just genuinely looked up to. I'm also a shy and anxious person who hates confrontation, but because I loved him, I never refrained from telling him when he was wrong. I might have been a little shaky about it but I did it tho because when you want to be with someone you walk through the grass and stomp through the mud. And I personally feel like either in that moment or later on in an added scene that Katara should have voiced to Aang how unheard and disrespected she felt about his words before TSR and his actions on the balcony. I hate being uncomfortable and my secondhand embarrassment is toxic but I would love to see a scene of this. I always imagined Katara saying stuff like "But I'm not you Aang, and I'm not an Air Nomad," or "Zuko could understand why I needed to go, and I'd hoped you would too," or...I'm out of ideas but you get the idea. And you know what, I know I'm a hard Zutara shipper, but them having this conversation would honestly make me respect their relationship a whole lot more should it be believably written to end on a good note (I don't see how it could be but hey I'm an open minded person and I did think they were cute together once upon a time). Basically, all I'm saying is that Katara is no small voice and she should have been written that way when with Aang. Boyfriends can make you shy but should never make you weak. Period. Next point.

4. No rock! ONLY GROWTH!!!!!!!!!!!

I still squint my eyes whenever I remember that rock that unblocked Aang's chakra. What even was that? The laziest writing possible in my opinion. That's what. And Aang deserved better. What should have happened should have been that Aang started to lose to Ozai. And then as Ozai's about to deliver the finishing blow, Aang has flashbacks of everyone he's trying to save and honor, ending with a very prominent flashback of Katara with the guru's disembodied voice reminding Aang to let go of his attachments to become all he needs to be...then BOOM! Baby boy is back on his feet, chakra unblocked, he kicks Ozai's ass, I'm crying hysterically on the floor, as are the rest of us, and he wins. Then at the end of the series, instead of a kiss, he gives Katara an apology. She accepts, everyone else comes to join them on the balcony, cinematic group hug, camera pan into the sun. I don't know lol. Basically what I'm saying is that Aang did not deserve some deus ex machina. He deserved to grow and become his best self like everyone else got to.

5. Aang should have heard differently in The Storm

Katara is a very fate-minded person and this is when I saw potential for her to become a toxic character in regards to Aang. When he admits that he ran away from home 100 years ago, Katara tells him that that was basically a good thing because he was meant to be here and now. Like...no? What Aang did, though understandable for someone so young, was still wrong. Yes he would have maybe been killed but I'm like 10000000% sure they had a plan to protect and evacuate the literal avatar. And what was technically "meant to be" was a new avatar. But hey, what's done is done and kicking Aang while he's down is a no-no in this household. But that doesn't change the fact that Aang needed and deserved honesty. Maybe the fisherman could have said this, I don't know, but I feel like Aang should have been told by someone that although running away was wrong, it's a blessing he and Appa were able to survive and be able to help save the world now with his amazing friends found-family. Maybe this is too harsh, and maybe even outright wrong, but I felt like Aang deserved a truer answer here to support and comfort him.

6. MAILEE!!!!

Do I even need to go into detail?

7. Spiritual sigh*

Don't make me go into detail -_- I will say though that although Aang and Katara are both amazing individuals capable of earth shattering things, they were not a healthy fit for one another. This is evident in the original series and especially in their children from LOK. They both deserved the best but better than one another.

8. ZUTARAAAAAAA

This is a Zutara blog you KNEW this was coming, as it should. There's just too much. There's too damn much. I would give a real paragraph to this too, but, I mean, there's already so much proving that this was the pair. Fics, metas, rants, this site. Scroll through my blog or any of the ATLA related blogs I follow and...dude. These two were meant to be together and I'll mourn the narrative brilliance WASTED for no good reason every day for the rest of my life. No reason these two shouldn't be married with three kids. sob. I will take this part to say thank you to the amazing fic writers that gave Katara, Zuko, Mai, and Aang what they deserved that the writers didn't have the guts to give them themselves. Next point tho.

9. AANG AND ONJI

Good God almighty. Why not this? WHY NOT THIS? I'm putting on my bullet proof vest and I'm going to say this; Aanji is cuter than Zutara. Now before you scorn me or whatever, let me explain. Zutara for me is like steak. No. Chicken parmesan. I like chicken parmesan better. The point though is that Zutara is savory. You know? I don't see them as cute, I see them as Obviously. Aanji on the other hand is like a bag of my favorite candy. They are like a brownie. A cookie. Girl Scout Samoas!...I don't know what words are anymore. This post got way out of hand. I guess what I'm saying is that for Zutara, I scream, but for Aanji, I squeal. I hope that makes sense. But here's the main point I want to make. Onji never knew who Aang really was. And Aang was always, at his core, himself. She very obviously had a crush on Aang for his personality and that was crazy cute and frankly preferable to Katara's "I...guess he is." (you know exactly what I'm talking about) Anyway, I kept wanting more of them together. I wish all the time that we'd gotten to see her again, with a more fleshed out character and all. And in the way that I imagine the show should have gone, she could have been the perfect love interest for Aang, during this episode or way later, even in the comics! Another WASTED opportunity for greatness and I will, again, never recover T-T

10. Iroh get your ass back here

Maybe this is a misguided critique but I hated that Iroh just left Zuko alone in the fire nation at the end of the series. Baby was in trouble in every sense of the word and Iroh was just like "See ya! You got this nephew." I'm expected to believe that? I'm expected to accept that? No no no. He should have at least stayed for a few years to help Zuko stay upright and, you know, alive. And by "upright" I don't mean "good." I just mean been there to support him because Lord knows he needed it, at least in the beginning of his reign. It was cute that Iroh was able to settle down with his own teashop after all those years of violence and mourning and running and this and that. I was more than happy for him for being able to have that peace finally. But I still think it could have waited a little while longer so he could support Zuko.

That's it I guess. I know not everything I've said makes the most sense in one way or another, but I enjoyed putting it together all the same. Thank you for reading and have a great day. I'll go finish my final now.

(Edited for a typo)

#zutara #katara #aang #aanji #avatar the last airbender #uncle iroh #onji #on ji #Im wasting more time with these tags #avatar the last airbender critique #avatar critique #mai #avatar mai #ty lee #avatar ty lee #tylee #avatar tylee #the southern raiders

[misterghostfrog]

39 FOR THE PROMPTS PLEASE AAAAA

LOOK OK, i’m going to start by saying this one... got away from me a little bit. And I didn’t originally mean to combine the prompts, and neither are technically correct. BUT consider you can’t stop me

39. Kissing tears from the other’s face.

30. Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.

Cw; This takes place after the unknowing but before Jon wakes up in canon, and Martin starts in a rough headspace. Also accidental compulsion.

(This is actually a sorta part-2 to the pre-unknowing ficlet I did! Tho u don’t gotta read it to understand it works as a standalone too. Anyway welcome to the AU ZONE)

EDIT: fixed a typo

Martin usually visits Jon on Thursday.

He used to visit every day. But the nurses began to give him looks after the first month, and it was hard to balance checking on Jon with regular life things like groceries, laundry, and work. So he’s cut back. If only to preserve his sanity.

He considered Sunday. But Sunday is the day he visits his mum, another thing that has been hard to balance with- well. Everything. Besides, it’s hard to stack that much heartbreak into one day.

The receptionist gives him a funny look. He would give himself a funny look too, he looks a wreck, he knows it. She knows him, so seeing him on a wednesday looking like he crawled out of the back end of hell. Or maybe just hasn’t done any laundry for a few days. Or showered. And got in a fight and lost.

He’s already waited too long though, he thinks. He... well. It’s his last chance, he supposes. If Jon isn’t coming back, then...

Yeah.

It’ll be for the best.

He turns the knob on the door, he knows what he’ll say. Even if he’s talking to a dead man he needs a speech apparently. And-

He bounces off of something- or someone. Who trips back a step in turn.

“Oh god- I’m so sorry-” He says almost automatically.

“No, don’t worry about it I wasn’t-”

“I wasn’t even looking where I was going a-and-”

“Really it’s fine-”

The man isn’t a nurse, Martin’s sees that much. He’s tall-ish. Handsome, certainly. Definitely no-one he’s ever met. And certainly no-one he thinks might have a reason to visit Jon. Not that Jon shouldn't get handsome visitors, but- well. He doesn’t- didn’t? Have many people outside of the institute he ever talked about. And so this guy turning up out of the blue is... well.

“Er- I’m sorry, but who... who are you?”  He’s not- he’s not upset. that this random stranger is visiting Jon. It’s just weird is all. Yeah. Really weird, actually.

“Oh! I- I’m- I’m a friend of Jons.” The man says with an awkward smile, his eyes darting down to his shoes for a moment as he says it. “Er- Antonio.” He tacks the name on like an afterthought. This time his gaze flicks somewhere around Martin's shoulder, he shuffles on his feet.

Martin’s never been an expert at picking up on lies, not to say he’s bad at it. He just doesn’t find it something to worry about generally. But it’s hard not to notice when ‘Antonio’ is basically holding an imaginary blinking neon sign that says ‘I AM LYING’ with accompanying metaphorical Morse code with the same message.

He swears he’s heard that name before though.

“Oh. Er- he’s never um, talked about you?” he says carefully.

“Oh, yeah. Very old friends. Haven’t um- talked in a while.” ‘Antonio’ waves a hand awkwardly. And casting consistent looks towards the elevator.

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway! I’m uh- I’ll be going now. Visits over stuff to do y’know.” He’s already walking away as he says it, backing up for a moment and casting a quick wave before trotting away down the hall.

“Oh, y-yeah. Sure, bye?” Martin waves- though ‘Antonio’ isn’t looking. Watching as he basically runs down the hall.

“Bye!” ‘Antonio’ throws over his shoulder as he turns the corner to the elevators.

Well then.

“Huh.”

That’s not how he thought this visit was going to start.

He pauses for a moment. He’d been working off of something of a momentum. Check in with the nurse, make his speech. And be ready to say his goodbyes. But that... whatever just happened. Well, it threw him off.

He sighs.

It doesn’t matter. Weirdo visiting Jon. Seems about right, actually. If he thinks about it. Probably left a statement somewhere too, just to complete the weird weird picture.

The word ‘weird’ is starting to sound less like the a word the more he thinks about it.

He pushes the door to the hospital room open, he knows he’s imagining it. But the air feels heavier. The dread of the situation. The finality. Jon is still there, unmoving in his hospital bed. There's several machines tucked into the corner, they’d unhooked him from everything after the first month when it became clear that this is simply his state of being. That’s also about the time the nurses started telling him Jon probably wasn’t waking up.

He’s not going to wake up. Martin knows he’s not going to wake up. He’s been fooling himself for so long but now with the flesh attack he needs to do something. Or at the very least stop feeling like he’s doing nothing. But being miserable isn’t a solution either. 

Maybe there is no solution. Maybe it’s just, problems. Stuff he can’t fix or deal with and just- has to let it follow him until he dies.

He shifts, and his ankle twinges.

He’d tripped. It’s so stupid, it wasn’t even the monsters. He’d just- fallen and ended up hiding in a side room while everyone else dealt with meaty things crawling out of the floorboards. Just sat and hid and did nothing.

He’s tired of doing nothing.

Jon snores, interrupting his train of thought.

Martin smiles, god he’d forgotten Jon did that. Those little snorting snores- he’d only heard them a few times, back at the institute. It had scared the hell out of him the first time he’d been living-

Wait.

What?

Martin blinks. And watches as Jon scrunches his nose, making a small irritated noise- and turns over.

What.

His head skips, rewinds. Plays what he just saw back. Jon is breathing, how long has he been breathing? Doesn’t matter, he’s breathing which means he’s alive but what-

That weird guy. “Antonio”

He’s gone, Martin knows he’s gone. But he checks anyway. Even running all the way to the elevators. But he’s gone.

And Jon...

Jon is alive.

The thought hits his brain, and then slips away like a wet fish. There’s no guarantees. This could be a fluke, this could be a trap. It might not even be Jon. Just... something that looks like him, and snores like him. And-

A nurse taps him on the shoulder. And he realizes he’s been staring at the elevators for, well, he doesn’t know how long. Long enough to catch several concerned glances from passers-by though.

“Are you alright sir?” She asks, politely. He recognizes her, he chatted with her once when visiting Jon. She’s nice. She does the check ups a lot of the time, one of the few who’ll actually do it.

“He’s alive.” He says flatly, instead of answering. Because he’s not sure what the answer to the question is anyway.

The doctors do tests, though not many. According to them he’s fine. Fit as a fiddle aside from some fatigue and a little confusion. Which clearly makes them uncomfortable. Which he understands. A man wakes up from a three-month coma like he’d just rolled out of bed on a Monday morning? It makes him uncomfortable too, he thinks.

Basira drops off a statement. ‘Just felt like I should’ she’d said when he asked why. And neither of them felt particularly good about that answer.

After the statement he’s fine, not even fatigued. He’s alive.

He keeps looking at Martin.

Martin isn’t sure why he doesn’t want to look back.

Maybe it’s because it still feels like a trap, all of a sudden he comes back with no- no fanfare no effort. Right as rain and just... there.

Nobody else wants to deal with him right now- not after he just pulled a Lazarus like that. Jon wants to go to the institute. But Martin isn’t having it. He just woke up from a three-month coma. He’s going home. And yes- his lease apparently expired before the unknowing, so he doesn’t have a place to stay. And yes the only person willing to give him a place to stay is Martin. And Martin... well, it’s Jon. and even if it wasn’t, in the wake of losing three months of his life- and a friend. Or someone who had been a friend at a point before this all went to hell. He wouldn’t leave him alone for anything.

Martin tries to force himself to come to terms with it as they both climb into his car- this is what he wanted. He should be overjoyed. But it feels... it feels like if he looks at Jon for too long he’ll just... disappear. Or stop breathing again. Or stop being Jon.

“Good to see not too much has changed while I was gone.” Jon says wryly as he wrestles with the seatbelt. Which squeaks as he struggles to pull it out far enough to actually fasten it.

Martin just hums in response. Not trusting his voice not to betray whatever it is he’s feeling right now.

The drive to his flat is mostly quiet, aside from a few awkward attempts at conversation from Jon that all fall miserably flat. Eventually he gives up, and the rest of the drive is spent in silence. 

It’s not too far from the hospital to his flat. So before he knows it he’s leading Jon up the steps to his home.

It’s not much, he knows. Can’t afford anything truly fancy when carrying medical bills around. But it’s nice, homey. He hopes.

“Home sweet home.” He says, dropping his keys on the table by the door and hoping he sounds cheery. Because he doesn’t know what else to be right now. He’s figured out what emotion he’s feeling, though he’s not sure it counts as an emotion honestly.

Numb. 

Stupid, isn’t it? 

“The bathrooms down the hall- I think your stuff’s all in storage at the moment,” his voice wobbles at that, he swallows “so we’ll have to go get that soon. You can help yourself to anything in the fridge-” He’s stopped by a hand on his wrist. Familiar, too-thin, and cool.

“Martin.” Jon says. “Did I... did I do something to upset you?” It’s a question, small and helpless. Martin just wants to brush it off, he’s fine. He just needs time-

“You died, Jon.” He says instead. The words coming out unbidden.

“I- I came back.” He tightens his grip on Martins wrist for a moment before loosening  “In one piece even. I believe that was a part of our agreement” There’s a note of teasing in that last part, Martin wishes it was funny.

“I said come back safe Jon, not ‘come back from the dead’” Jon's hand drops from his wrist.

“Do you not... Are you not glad I’m back?” He sounds- sad. Of course he sounds sad Martin basically just said he wished he'd died.

“Of course I’m glad your back, I just-”

“Then what’s wrong?” The words are just- they’re just words. But Martin feels something pull in his chest.

Martin looks at Jon for the first time since the hospital.

“I’m scared, Jon! I You were dead for three months, Y-you didn’t even have a heartbeat and I-” He brings a hand upland runs it through his hair, Jon doesn’t need to hear this. He should be resting not listening to Martin dump his issues like this- “you were dead and I was the only one left. A-and yeah you came back, but- god what even is this! You’re just, fine. A-and I’m- I don’t want you to not be fine but I- I can’t even prove to myself that you’re real and not- I-I don’t-” He forces himself to stop. clamping his jaw shut around the words that suddenly feel like they’re pushing at the back of his throat like bile. Jon stares back at him, eyes wide and confused and hurt. He’s disheveled and still wearing the pajamas Martin had brought for him in the first week. Small and tired and maybe even real. He looks at Jon until he can’t because his vision begins to blur and his eyes begin to burn.

“Martin, I- I’m- I’m sorry I-” Jon's blurry form moves, and Martin shuts his eyes. Shaking his head. He should be the one apologizing, Jon didn’t need to hear that and he just- threw it at him.

“I’m-” Martin tries to apologize, but it comes out as little more than a croak. Cool hands cup his cheeks, and he opens his eyes. Jon's face is closer now, eyes scanning desperately over Martin's face.

“I- I’m not- I don’t know what I am but I’m- I-I’m me. I-I promise, I don’t know how to prove it to you but I-” Jon starts, and Martin can see his lips move to form the words-

Jon is here, he’s alive. He’s awake. His hands are on Martin's cheeks and he’s running his thumb through the tear tracks, fumbling over awkward reassurances. and looking so, so earnest. Hell, he made a joke about a conversation nobody else heard. Something just between the two of them, nobody else. And to fear entities, maybe that doesn’t matter. But for now, with Jon so close and acting so perfectly imperfectly Jon. Martin can let- no. Make himself believe. Jon’s not dead, it’s not a trap. Not right now, not yet. Just for right now, Martin isn’t alone anymore.

It doesn’t take much to lean forward, pressing their lips together. Jon makes a small, cut-off sound of surprise before melting into it, letting a hand move to the back of Martin's hair and the other fall to his shoulder. Martin's arms wrapping around Jon's waist.

Eventually they have to part for air. Martin doesn’t open his eyes, but he can feel Jon's breath on his face, and his hand in his hair and it’s all just another reminder he’s alive. And so wonderfully real.

He feels Jon move after a moment, using the hand he’s left on the back of Martin's head to guide him down. Pressing now-warm lips to the wet patches on his cheeks. Martin tries to laugh, he’s not sure why. It all just seems a little absurd all of a sudden. but it comes out as sort of a wet hiccup. Prompting Jon to tilt his head, and lock their lips together again.

Martin doesn’t know how long they stand in his entryway, trading kisses and just... being in each other's arms. But it’s long enough he’s run out of tears for Jon to try to kiss away, and the strange wired feeling has faded. Leaving him tired and heavy and in desperate need of a lie-down.

He pulls back, though not far. He can still feel Jon's lips against his as he speaks.

“Please don’t die again.” He says softly.

Jon sighs, pressing a small, chaste kiss against his lips.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, and Martin can feel the words as Jon's mouth brushes his as much as he hears them. And then he kisses Martin again, like he’s trying to seal the words there with his lips.

And, Martin supposes that promise was enough last time. It might be more than enough for him now.

#tma #the magnus archives #ficlet #jmart #jonmartin #Jonathan sims #Martin blackwood #Ghostly scribble #Ghostly scribbles #coulson-is-an-avenger

[angelademille]

Penlight Public Release 0.1552.3: Zombie & Devotion Route Updates

This post concerns the latest public release of my hypnosis-themed visual novel, Penlight. Please see this post for details of where you can get a copy for free.

Penlight public release day is upon us yet again!

This past month saw a little further development of the Villainous Devotion path, with several scenes being rewritten (one of them majorly) to go along with some fun new CGs added to it. But most importantly I managed to fully outline a path through the new-look "Zombie" storyline from beginning to end~ As ever, I'm interested to see what people make of it all.

Another fun thing to note: As of this release, the number of unlockable CGs in the game has surpassed 100! Where will it end?!

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the update! And there'll be more to come at the usual time~

What's New

WRITING: Zombie storyline outlined through to a conclusion along one path, and scripted through to about a third of day 11

WRITING: A scene on the Villainous Devotion storyline, using the new CG assets, has been majorly rewritten

ART: New CGs for the Villainous Devotion (x3), Sayori Alter and Zombie (x2) storylines

ART: Number of CGs is now over 100!

ART: A small image depicting the "mind trick" now appears when it's used

MUSIC: Added one new music piece to the soundtrack, which plays during the Zombie storyline

LOCALIZATION: Various edits and corrections to the existing Spanish script

Word count is now around 293,000

Minor typo corrections

#Penlight #Visual Novel #hypnosis #hypnotism #renpy #mind control #indiedev #vndev #hypnokink

[wxldchxld]

This started out as like, a light piece just to describe what Beck’s workspace looks like and I won’t lie I’m a little obsessed with it. People always ask me like how tf Harper and Beck get along and... this. It’s this. Harper turns into a big sappy baby who lives off of nothing but Loving Her Wife Juice.

I’ll probably go back and edit this a couple of times for typos and other things but I love it so much I just wanna post it rn. And I won’t be putting it under a cut so y’all will have to live with it.

Harper knocked, almost tentatively, on the open door. From outside she could smell the intoxicating aroma of fir trees and herbs, sweetened by dried apples and candied citrus, drawing the attention of any passersby and calling them in. But she lingered there, knocking a second time when she got no response. Somewhere an old record player was crackling as Judy Garland sang about far away places over a rainbow, and a warm voice was humming along with it. Harper gently ran her thumb over one of the embroidered silk foxes among flower petals embedded into the translucent curtain that covered the door. The fabric, a deep ocean blue, shuffled under her attention, and the little creatures looked as if they were dancing.

Even on the threshold of Beck’s workshop, the world felt so slow. Time didn’t abide by schedules and obligations. It flowed like a lazy river on the precipice of winter, slowly but surely crusting over with ice. If she stood still long enough, would it freeze entirely? Or would the warm glow that haloed her lover forever melt away the sharpest crystals and encourage it to move on?

She didn’t need to knock. She didn’t need permission to enter. Not only did she doubt Beck would care, but the building was hers. The city--in its own way--was hers. It was her nature to utterly and completely possess things---to take them into herself to keep. If someone asked, she’d likely have even said Beck was hers. 

But she had no claim over this place. It was a feeling that went far deeper than any deed or contract or organization. The magic here was so perfectly interwoven with it that it felt like it belonged to Beck.

Inside the room, there was a little tsk and a rich, quiet laugh. “What are you doing hanging out there like a bat? The door is open.” 

The door was always open. Beck still clung to the old superstitions of their people. Ancient rules about hospitality and ways witches ought to behave. Rules made in a time when their people had been valued and listened to, long before Christians had turned them into a target and Google had rendered them obsolete. But Beck claimed it wasn’t about people, it was about magic, and its strange laws that were shrouded in mystery. Magic, she said, liked to know its witches were always open and welcome to it. In return for a witch’s “proper” hospitality, magic would sweep away the bad luck that so often got caught behind closed doors. And--again according to Beck--spirits were much the same, and closing the door on them might cause otherwise benign entities to turn dark with anger.

But Harper had been raised by much less traditional witches. One specifically that would have worn her back end raw with a wooden spoon for letting the heat escape and airing their business out in front of their neighbors. 

She pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room, leaving any lingering thoughts of her mother laid on the doorstep with the rest of her worries.

The apartment was an explosion of barely organized chaos. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling or were pressed between the thick, heavy pages of spellbooks laying on the shelves beside jars stuffed with candied fruits and tea leaves. Knitwork and embroidery and tapestries and clothing in all states of completion were laid out on tables or hung up from the wall. Live plants in brightly colored pots lounged in the sunlight that poured in from the huge windows on the far side of the wall. There was a collection of open-faced cabinets filled with canisters of wood and glass and stone that sat in clusters with no apparent system of coordination. Above her the high ceilings had been turned into an aerial playground of wooden bridges, little boxes, and plush cushions either nailed into the wall or floating in midair among the drying plants where her most cantankerous familiar could sit and look down on the apartment like a goddess. A fire roared energetically to her right, and to her left there was a small kitchen where an enormous pot of sliced apples was being attended by an enchanted spoon.

It was nothing like the penthouse they shared when Harper left her work to come home. But oddly enough Beck’s workshop didn’t feel cramped or chaotic. It was warm. It was inviting. Everything melted together on the merit that no two things were remotely related to one another in any sensible way. A way that suggested every single item had been purposefully hand picked or handmade by the master of the domain and placed precisely where they were meant to be. 

And there she sat, behind it all, nestled among the plants in front of a wall of windows. Her feet were curled up in the plush, gliding rocker beside her, and she was smiling up at her through a halo of sunlight. In this place she was a queen, and her crown was made of braids entangled with wildflowers and encrusted with knitting needles and crochet hooks that she had stuck away for safekeeping and promptly forgotten about. She was holding a little stuffed creature in one hand, and pulling a needle and thread in the other.

Beck always seemed fondly amused by the slow, reverent way Harper entered her domain. Their eyes met for a few gentle seconds, and then Beck looked to her right, where something shimmering and half formed in the sunlight began to move. Harper tried to focus on the spirit, but it collapsed in on itself and turned into a yellow moth as big as her hand, and lazily fluttered into the shadow of a flower by the window.

“That doesn’t unnerve you?” Harper asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from her girlfriend.

Again the blonde let out a breezy laugh that harmonized with the music in the background.

“You spend half your nights in an enchanted necropolis in some undisclosed abyss with only dead people and a renegade faerie for company, and an air spirit unnerves you.” She said, a playful perk in her brow. 

Harper scoffed in feigned offense. “Dead things don’t think. They don’t watch me. I don’t like to be watched.”

“What a shame. You’re quite the sight to look at.” 

Now Harper laughed, a rare, genuine chuckle of amusement. She wasn’t modest by any means, but Beck’s flattery could still make her heart race and her stomach fill with butterflies. As if it were the first time, even though compliments fell from Beck like droplets of rain in a spring shower.

“Well it’s a privilege. And it’s only bestowed on people I think highly of.”

Beck snorted soundlessly. “I can’t imagine there are many of those.”

“Only one, currently. And I’d let her do anything she pleased.” Harper replied. There was a small, suggestive grin on her lips, and a devilish twinkle in her eye.

“Oh?” Both of Beck’s brows raised and the hand holding her needle pressed against her heart as if she were shocked. “Then I guess I have someone to be jealous of, because you certainly don’t let me do whatever I want.”

Again she laughed, and Beck joined in with her. Harper rolled her eyes, her quick tongue failing her, and said lightly. “Shut up.” 

“See?! There it is right there. Always bossing me around.” The little witch clicked her tongue in fake disapproval. 

“Anything you want to me.” Harper corrected, still grinning so wide that it hurt her cheeks. “The fact that I don’t let you wreak havoc all across the tristate area is not the same.”

Beck held up both her hands in surrender. “Hey, you say potato, I say tomato.”

“That’s-” Harper halted her correction when she saw the look on Beck’s face that suggested her point was about to be proven perfectly. “Absolutely right.”

It was Beck’s turn to roll her eyes, and then she returned her attention to the project in her hands. Harper leaned forward just a little to try and catch a subtle glimpse, and without a word from the necromancer, Beck raised up the stuffed animal to show.

“Essi has decided that she’s infatuated with snails.” She said, shaking her head. 

Esteri was a frequent visitor in their home. Harper could remember when she was born how Beck had practically lived at Frankie’s house and brought the infant home with her when her friend needed rest. Midori and Jari had done just the same, and the door to her penthouse had practically revolved for months as the gaggle of friends came and went. Essi had just turned three a short while ago, and she’d grown into a wild-eyed, challenging little girl. Consequently, one of Beck’s favorite hobbies consisted of indulging her every whim and encouraging her to be as difficult as possible. If that meant making a snail to feed her newest fancy, Harper knew that “Aunty Beck” was more than happy to provide. 

“It’s not surprising, between you and Dori I don’t know who lets her play in the dirt more.”

“We play in the garden.” Beck corrected.

Harper refused to give ground. “Gardens are mostly dirt.” 

“It’s important for witches to know how to plant and grow.” Her playful tone had gotten a little more serious. Not angry, but carrying a thread of absolute belief. “You could use a bit more time in the garden. And the sun for that matter.”

“Alas my love,” She sighed dramatically, “I am a creature of the night.”

Something soft bounced off her nose and fell into her lap. It was the snail. It’s stupid, smiling face laughing up at her.

“Are you throwing things at me now?” She teased, “Do you really want to start this with me?”

“You’re the one who said I could do whatever I wanted to you.” Beck wasn’t even bothering to contain her wolfish grin.

“You. Not this creature you’ve created. I can’t take an attack like this sitting down. I have a reputation to uphold.” She stood up, stuffed animal clenched in her hand, and slowly walked toward the fire place.

“Don’t you dare!” Beck squealed. They both knew it was an empty threat, that Harper would never disrespect the woman she loved so brazenly, but Beck threw the blankets off her lap and scrambled to her feet in a flash. Harper held the stuffed creature high above her head as Beck latched onto her. 

There was a flush of heat that certainly didn’t come from any fire as their bodies pressed together. Beck was all soft curves over surprisingly strong muscles and blue eyes that glittered in the flames.

“Give me that back!” She demanded, trying to sound stern and reaching hopelessly for the toy. The pair stumbled and fell against a wall. When it shook a cascade of lavender petals and thyme leaves peppered them like confetti.

The necromancer curled one of her legs behind her lover’s and held up the animal higher. “I never knew you had this kind of rage inside of you. You know maybe you should go to therapy.”

“I never knew you were so annoyi-OH” Harper swept them both to the side, and Beck only managed to stay upright because she was being held against her so tightly. The little witch huffed, her cheeks flushing. “Oh I’m going to knock you over the side of the head so hard it smarts for a month!”

“See! There it is again! That rage!” Harper teased, merciless. A little childish, even. “Beck it’s me! Please, remember you loved me once.”

“You’re too rotten for loving. You give me that toy right now!”

Harper was shaking with laughter, her free hand wrapped around Beck’s waist as she strained. Beck was laughing too, intermittently. Every few seconds her angry façade would break just long enough for a smile and a chuckle that made her quiver against her.

“Why are you so godsdamned tall?! Was your mother a giant?” Beck’s hand had a hold on her wrist and her nails were just barely scratching the skin that ignited a dangerous excitement in Harper.

“A troll, actually. It’s a wonder I turned out so pretty.” Harper carefully guided them through the room backing them into the perfect position. When her hand was at just the right height, she felt the toy roughly ripped away from her, and the enormous black feline leaped over the both of them with it in her mouth, and (likely sensing what was about to happen) ran out into the hall. 

"They say the devil has a pretty face---and Angrboda you’re giving that back!” The smaller witch tried to twist to look at her familiar, but Harper had pulled her tight against her body. Now with her other hand free she tilted up her lover’s chin and kissed her softly, the both of them still intermittently giggling.

They turned again, fingers tangled in one another’s hair, lips locked, the air between them dissolving until her lungs burned but still neither of them pulled away. Not until Harper had backed the witch up to the armchair. She gave her lover a rough push and watched her fall back into the seat, panting and grinning in delight. 

She placed a knee on either side of Beck and trapped her against the cushions, reveling in the way she shivered. Her head stooped to whisper in the little witch’s ear. “And what would you let the devil do to you?”

Beck's hands were tightly gripping her hips, trying to pull her even closer. She smelled like apples and wildflowers and everything Harper loved in the world. She was everything Harper loved in the world. Perhaps even the only thing she loved in the world of the living.

“I’d let her do anything she wants.” Beck said beneath her, and the record came to a scratchy stop, and all Harper could hear was the crackle of the fire and the door slamming shut behind them.

#drabbles #my drabbles #i love them so much tho omgggggg

[whoacanada]

Zimbits Fic - ‘Little Aurora’ -Update

Summary: Five years after dropping out of college, Eric Bittle is traveling across the country looking for content, and, more importantly, the part of himself that’s been missing since he left Samwell University. When a storm strands him in a small Alaska town, Eric stumbles into a relationship with a camera-shy hockey coach hiding more than a few secrets about his past — the kind of secrets Eric can't always edit his videos around. Now, with a scandal brewing and the media ready to descend on their tiny winter hamlet, Eric has to figure out how undo the damage he's caused and protect his new boyfriend, Laurent, who might just be long-lost hockey royalty.

a/n: I know it’s been an eternity but I come bearing an update!

Part IV - Discovery:

Face squished against his pillow, one eye blearily tracking his notifications, Eric swipes each away slowly with his thumb, refusing to give into sleep just yet. Down the hall, Eric can hear his parents getting ready for bed; having been courteous enough to wait for him to get home. 

For the first time in months, Eric’s back in his own bed, and he absolutely hates it.

‘Made it back safe’, Eric texts Laurent carefully, not willing to adjust his position to accommodate the action, accepting the inevitable typos. ‘Wishing I was still in the wilderness with a certain handsome man, tho’.

Eric smiles when Laurent doesn’t send an emoji heart, going so far as to type out a less-than-three that doesn’t auto correct. Eric’s in love. Messy, sticky, highly-problematic love, but love all the same. As he’s drafting a response, a banner notification from Twitter drops at the top of his screen, and a blue check mark winks up at him. He barely has time to click it before another banner has kicked down the first. Another blue check.

Jump to Part IV on Ao3 Start from the Beginning!

#zimbits #zimbits fic #omgcp #check please #Little Aurora #my fic #update #Jack Zimmermann #Eric Bittle

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Hi!

I wanted to get your opinion on something, as you are both a fanfic maven and a writer. I am someone who loves reading fanfic, and also have a sort of gift for spotting typos, grammar errors etc. It pulls me out of a story when I stumble across errors and my inclination is to tell the writer so they could correct the issue(s). (I know if I were a writer I’d want to be sure I was putting out an error-free product). However, it feels presumptuous or awkward to reach out, especially when the author acknowledges a beta who must have missed the error as well. Should I just keep my mouth shut and try to gloss past the errors or do you think an author would welcome some unsolicited feedback? I don’t want to be rude, I just want to help but I acknowledge that no one asked for my help! :)

generally speaking, my answer is always to ignore it and not say anything. it’s pretty widely considered to be bad form to offer any less-than-positive writing feedback unsolicited. some authors will put in the notes that they are open to constructive criticism, in which case it’s fine to provide that kind of feedback (as gently as possible), but otherwise, don’t do it. 

anyone who writes fic is doing so for free in their limited spare time, often around the responsibilities of work or school or family, and it can feel really shitty for someone to say, hey this thing that you spent your precious time and energy on and that you put out here purely for fun and that i didn’t have to pay you for, it could be better... like, yes, of course it could be better. most of us are not professional authors—most people writing fic don’t even want to be—and we’re all human and fail to catch mistakes from time to time, even when multiple sets of eyes have looked at it, but most of us are also really proud of the things we write too, even with their flaws, and to have people criticize them in even small ways can be really upsetting. and you don’t ever want to be the reason that someone deletes their fic(s), decides to give up on writing entirely, has a bad day, cries, whatever... it doesn’t hurt you to just not say anything, but it definitely could hurt them if you do. so why take the chance?

of course, there are exceptions. some authors are more gracious about that kind of response than others, even if they don’t have a note welcoming it, and certainly i think you might be able to get away with it if it’s an author with whom you already have a rapport, so while my advice is still 100% just don’t do it, if you decide to do it anyway for one reason or another, i would advocate for treading very lightly. for a start, it’s always better to do it privately if possible. if they have an email or social media account listed in their notes or on their profile, message them there rather than commenting on the fic itself. if you have to do it on the fic, i would encourage doing it in a completely separate comment from your effusive praise for their fic (because if you’re gonna leave them criticism, you better also be telling them the things you loved), that way they (or you) can choose to delete it after they make any edits they might want to make and not lose your praise for the fic in the process. and finally, be absolutely certain that what you’re pointing out is an actual mistake (and that you are correct in knowing how to fix it). i’ve had instances where people have tried to tell me things that were “wrong” with my fics, that were not actually incorrect and were instead just different than the way they personally would have phrased them. don’t do that. the point isn’t to tell someone how you would have written their story. if it’s a genuine typo or a missing word or something like that that’s a clear error, that’s one thing. but if you’re getting into word choice or comma usage, things that are often more stylistic and personal to how an author chooses to write, you’re probably overstepping.

in short, be kind. the kindest option is almost always going to be saying nothing, but even if you choose to say something anyway, do it with as much consideration for the author as possible

#anon #replies

[randomfandomimagine]

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 2: Catch Up

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

.

⬅ PREVIOUS CHAPTER • CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: A few disclaimers about the series. One: this is a first draft and some little things may change, and also forgive any typos as I will be editing the series more during the second draft. Secondly, I’m not a hardcore DC fan so I might get some things about the characters wrong, bear with me with that.

Anyway, here’s chapter two, I hope you like it! Things are starting to really set into motion and after this chapter they get a little crazy, even more so than at the end of this one. 

Remember to give this some love, please reblog and leave feedback! It would make my week! 🙏💜

His feet rhythmically drag along the ground, shuffling as he sways and snaps his fingers. The music loudly plays in his earphones, drowning out the sound of the elevator as it comes to a halt. He can’t hear the soft murmur of voices as the Justice League chats in the Batcave, reunited there one more day. The dark room feels brighter as he walks further into it and the team comes into his field of vision.

“Clap along if you feel…” Barry nods his head along to the song and points to Victor. “Like happiness is the truth”

Victor stares at him, frowning in confusion. He makes to lift his hands and clap, but ultimately doesn’t. He only glances at Diana, who chuckles at Barry’s good mood.

Bruce calmly makes a gesture, asking for Barry to remove his earphones. When he does, letting them fall and hang off his shirt’s neckline, he grins.

“Good morning!” He cheerfully says, but the group doesn’t reply. “What?”

After a brief pause and a few glances, it is Bruce who speaks up.

“Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

“You’re singing...” Arthur eyes the boy. “And dancing”

“So? Can’t I just be happy in this beautiful day?”

“There’s definitely a girl” His friend insists. “Spit it out”

Barry pouts and looks at each of them. The way they fondly stare at him fluster him a little, but he doesn’t really mind talking about her. In fact, it feels like a good thing to share his excitement with his friends.

“Her name’s Steph” Barry sighs with a dreamy sigh, but hurriedly corrects himself when he sees their even fonder expressions. “I-It’s nothing like that, though”

“What is it like then?” Diana asks, grinning in amusement.

“We’re old friends, but we haven’t seen each other in… like… more than ten years” Barry takes deep breath, overwhelmed by that rush again as he remembers the moment he spotted Stephanie Williams. “It was so cool to see her again”

“Why did you grow apart?” Clark wonders, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did your lives go different ways?”

“Not exactly…” Barry suddenly grows bleak, overcome with frantic memories.

That dreadful day in which all happened and he never saw her again. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, and all the things left unsaid still burn intensely inside him. Knowing that is all part of the past now and he will se her soon, he forces to forget about it.

Knowing the other noticed his brief change of demeanor, he claps his hands and changes the subject.

“But anyway! What are we doing today? Anything new?”

“Maybe” Bruce responds, even if he sends a quick look at the rest with the corner of his eye. “There have been some strange things happening around”

“Like what?”

“Glitches and minor crimes” Victor projects an image on the air, of a map of the surveilled cities with some red spots on them that mark the occurrences. “They’re all over the cities”

“Something bad?” Barry frowns, his eyes scanning the map.

“Nothing big, but we want to keep an eye out” Clark nods. “Just in case”

“Should we check it out?” The boy asks him, earning another nod from him.

“It won’t hurt” Bruce adds to, tapping the table in anticipation.

“Let’s suit up then” Barry speeds off, always bearing Stephanie in mind despite it all.

And so the Justice League prepares to exit the Batcave on a small routine mission.

_

When she looks at the clock, it’s already past 3pm. Stephanie clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and rushes to gather her things. She doesn’t want to be late.

“Bye, Ben!” Stephanie is almost at the door when he replies.

“Where are you going?” Ben does a double take, not believing his eyes when he looks at the clock. “You’re not staying late?”

“Do I…?” She mutters hesitantly. “Do I have to?”

“No, no” He fondly chuckles. “It’s just odd, do you have anything else to do?”

“Actually…” Stephanie can’t help but to grin, even if eager butterflies release in her stomach once more. To hide her thrill, she looks down and plays with her hands. “I’m meeting an old friend and… I’m honestly really excited to see him again”

“Oh, that explains it” Ben warmly grins. “Well, have fun!”

“Thanks!” Stephanie grins, bearing that wide genuine smile she showed the other day.

As he watches his coworker run off like a child on an adventure, Ben’s smile slowly fades as her previous presence now leaves room for a cold empty absence. A tiny pang of jealousy prickles the back of his neck.

_

Lazy clouds cover the sun, attempting to shadow its light. They threaten to flood the sky in darkness more and more with each passing second. Still, the day feels brighter than most. At least to Stephanie.

She rhythmically hits her nails against the glass surface of the table. Her eyes are directed to the door one more. Where is he? A heavy weight has settled in her chest. She chews on her fingernails. What if he doesn’t show up?

Soon enough, Barry comes barging in, out of breath and looking disheveled. He’s late, but he’s there. The girl stands up and takes a deep breath of relief.

“Hi” She greets him, earning an apologetic smile from him.

“I’m so sorry, Steph” He hurries to the table, nervously combing his hair with his fingers. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had”

“It’s okay” Despite his lateness, he notices, she’s smiling. Barry awkwardly chuckles as they both stand there.

Stephanie bites her lip, wondering how to act around him. Time has cooled their once close and nonchalant relationship, but she is determined to warm up to it again. Although they have known each other since they were little, they feel like strangers at the same time. They don’t know the other anymore, but they’re adamant on changing that. Besides, she still feels as comfortable with him as before, like not a day as gone by.

“Well, hi” Barry opens his arms, going on for a hug, just at the same time that Stephanie is leaning close to him in order to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. Noticing this, they awkwardly pull away between embarrassed chuckles. In the end, and after a few more seconds of stuttering and fidgeting, Barry finally holds his hand out. Stephanie smiles and shakes it.

Happily plopping down on the chair, he sighs and stares at her. When she sits down in front of him, her fingers absently trace across the edge of the table that separates them. The tension looms above their heads until he breaks it with his cheerful energy.

“Stephanie Williams” Barry says in awe, fondly tilting his head and peering at her.

“Barry Allen” She reciprocates, smiling as the name of her beloved friend fills her lips.

“So talk to me, Steph, um…” He puckers his lips in a thoughtful gesture. “How’s your day going?”

“Good, it’s good so far…” She nods, not knowing what else to say. “And yours?”

“Great! A bit frantic, but… good” He bites his lips, awkwardly lingering as well. “Good...”

“Tell me!” Barry starts. “What have you been doing? I haven’t since you since...”

“Since we moved to Metropolis...”

“Well, yeah... I never really found out why that happened”

“My parents insisted on leaving Central City” Stephanie gravely nods, averting her eyes. “They said what happened with your mom was affecting me too much”

Barry quiets, watching her with a frown. He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t find the right words to express the extent and variety of his current feelings.

“I’m so sorry…” He drags his hand across the table, reaching out to pat hers as it now rests on the surface of the table. However, and after a second of hesitation, Barry decides not to touch her. “I had no idea…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Barry. You were having a hard time already”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s okay, I just… I hated seeing you suffer like that”

The two lock gazes, and an unnamed emotion shines in both their eyes. Like a wave has washed out all the deeply buried memories, a weight settles on their shoulders. One that they had been carrying since childhood and they had nearly forgotten about. Now it has returned, just like that. In only a second.

Trying to brush it off, Stephanie smiles. Like the gesture makes him happy, he grins too.

“So how is your dad?” She asks in a friendly tone. Barry’s smile slowly fades, only to be replaced with a melancholic frown. Stephanie is hit with realization. “Oh, so he’s still… I’m so sorry, Barry… I thought…”

It had been years since that terrible thing happened, and knowing of his innocence Stephanie hoped the situation would have changed by now. She’s unfortunately wrong. The girl groans in frustration, mentally scolding herself for not having thought about that possibility before speaking. Barry shakes his head and mindlessly waves his hand in the air. He smiles again, although this time it’s obviously a facade.

“It’s okay” Barry says, but he can’t hide the sad hint to his expression. “I go see him almost every day”

“Is he doing okay?” She cautiously asks, knowing how hard the situation must be for the two of them.

“For the most part, yeah…” His crestfallen look breaks her heart, and so Stephanie wrecks her head to find a more light-headed subject to talk about.

“O-Order” She rushes to say, holding her hand up in the air to catch the waitress attention. “We should order something to drink”

Barry chuckles at her attempt, nodding his head in silent agreement. When the waiter arrives, it’s the girl that speaks for the both of them.

“Um, yeah, hi” She looks up at the blond waiter. “I’ll have a coffee and he’ll have a chocolate milkshake”

“I’m not a child anymore, Steph” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I can order my own chocolate milkshake”

Stephanie laughs out loud, surprised by his retort. Barry fondly grins at her reaction.

_

Their shared chocolate milkshake has nearly run out. The cream at the top has melted as the liquid reaches the bottom of the container. Their identical pink frosted sprinkled donuts are half eaten, left forgotten in their small plates for the time being.

“Oh, hey!” Barry utters, changing the subject from his criminal justice major. “Did you get your own lab yet?”

Barry lets go of his red and white straw once he’s done sipping while Stephanie absently plays with hers.

“No…” She pouts a little, soon recovering part of her usual spark. “But I’m an intern at STAR Labs”

“That’s great!” He gulps, nearly chocking on the milkshake. “That brings you a step closer!”

“Yeah, I guess… I’m just so impatient to get there”

“You’ll get there” He carelessly waves his hand in the air. “I’ve got no doubts about it”

Stephanie smiles, feeling that once familiar warmth spread through her. There’s that unconditional support he showed her years ago. They haven’t talked in so long, but his unwavering faith on her hasn’t shifted.

A silence establishes after, although the frequency and intensity of them has lessened over the course of the afternoon. She picks up tiny pieces of the donut with her fingers and puts them in her mouth. Barry, meanwhile, absently nibbles on his donut, letting his eyes wander around the quaint establishment, before he boldly pipes up again.

“Are you seeing someone?” Stephanie chokes on the crumbs on her mouth at Barry’s question.

“What?” She coughs, sipping the last of the milkshake to shove the crumbs down.

“Sorry, I…” He chuckles, trying to conceal his amusement. “I was just wondering…”

Stephanie chuckles too, more surprised by the question than offended that he’s so obviously trying not to laugh at her.

“Well?” He says, bearing a playful tone that she had dearly missed. “Answer the question, Steph!”

“Actually… no” She shrugs a little, embarrassed to admit it. “It’s been a bit hard to connect with people”

“How so?” Barry turns serious once more, frowning as he intently listens.

“I don’t know… I’m just trying to pick up where I left off and…”

Stephanie leaves the sentence hanging in the air, but she doesn’t need to complete it. Barry nods. He understands what she means, even in a way that she can’t imagine.

“Well, you’re in luck, miss Williams” He says in a silly voice. “Because I am here to save the day”

“My hero” Stephanie replies, placing a hand on her chest in feigned bewilderment.

They both smile at each other, lingering on their reciprocated gazes. The spark between them has been rekindled, and they can feel it softly beating in their hearts.

_

It is with great sadness that they must say goodbye. They can’t stay there forever, as much as they’d like to. Still, it’s a bit easier to say farewell knowing they have each other’s numbers now and will meet again soon. They get up from the chairs slowly, putting the moment off as much as they possibly can.

Barry takes the jacket for her, holding it in the air to make it easier for Stephanie to put it on. She smiles, endeared by the chivalrous gesture, and shoves her arms on the sleeves.

“Thank you” Stephanie says as he also holds the door open for her.

The air outside is slightly chilly, and the clouds have darkened in the sky, perhaps announcing a storm. Reeling in the rush that still lingers from the lovely soiree with Barry, Stephanie looks up, unfazed by the gray clouds gathering before the sun. When she peers down again, she catches Barry’s eye.

“Barry” She laughs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You did change” He replies with a frown, although it’s not exactly a sad one.

“How have I changed?”

“I don’t know… there’s something about you”

“Wisdom and maturity?”

“Maybe…” Barry smiles, hiding his actual thoughts. Ever since they were reunited, he has noticed a certain tint of sadness hanging over Stephanie. He doesn’t dwell too much on it, though, because it’s been slowly fading away as the afternoon advances.

“What about you? You’re not so shy anymore”

“Oh, I’m still shy” The shadow that had darkened his expression disappears, replaced with his usual affable expression. “I just hide it better”

“Are you sure you’re not just shy but you’re too embarrassed to admit it?”

“I’m pretty sure” Barry is replying, grinning as he sees her smiling. “I’m...”

He then trails off, never finishing his sentence. Something’s wrong, he can feel it. His eyes are directed to the traffic light not far from them. The lights aren’t changing, stuck on green. On every traffic light. His instinct kicks in before his brain can comprehend what his body is doing.

“Barry, what’s…” Stephanie his cut off by his urgent movement. Before she can wrap her head around what is happening, the entire street has developed in havoc.

Car horns loudly honking hurt her ears, and soon she sees why. Losing a sense of order because of the unexplained glitching of the traffic lights, all vehicles are crashing into each other. Fortunately, an imposing figure is halting their movement before the damage can be too big. A car has impacted close to them, however, and while doing so knocking a street light that heavily falls their direction.

While this developed, Barry has urgently taken hold of her. When she becomes aware of his closeness, Stephanie is pressed against his chest as he protectively moves her out of the way. Her heart is wildly racing as her senses overload.

The both of them are falling to the ground, with Barry losing balance in his desperate need to protect Stephanie. He still manages to turn and break her fall, tightly squeezing her with his arms to be shielded against his chest. His back takes the hit as he heavily falls to the ground with Stephanie safely landing on top of himself. Unaccustomed to the chaos, she is screaming and protecting her head with her arms in a panic, pressing herself against Barry and hiding her face on his shoulder as he still holds on to her.

“Steph!” He immediately calls, keeping one arm locked around her and using his free hand to press it against her cheek, urging her to look at him. “Steph, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She peers up in a daze, somehow finding comfort in his eyes despite it all. Despite the concern in them. Despite the chaos that engulfs their surroundings. In spite of it all, Barry’s still there with her. The thought calms her and she manages to take a deep breath. It helps settle the panicked pants that shook her being.

Stephanie wants to speak up, but she has momentarily lost the ability to speak. All she can do at that moment is catch her breath while she lays there on top of him, arms pressed against his chest as it quickly moves up and down with the same urgency as hers does. Barry’s hands are protectively pressed against the small of her back. Their faces are so close that their noses nearly touch. This closeness brings a flushed blush to their cheeks that can luckily be excused by the frantic situation.

“I-I’m okay” She finally replies, even with a shaky voice. “And you?”

“I’m fine” He absently says, immense relieved even if distracted.

Barry then lies on his side and carefully pushes her off him. The two of them still hold on to each other as they scramble to their feet. As they glance around, they see the disaster that the street has turned into.

A flying figure covers the sun for a split second while the clouds slowly float away in the sky. Stephanie gasps when she looks up and sees him, recognizing the cape and the strong silhouette of the hero that saved the day.

“Superman…” She utters, pointing up and gathering Barry’s attention there too.

“Oh, no” He mumbles under his breath, starting to understand what has happened.

Stephanie is too becoming aware of what happened, although in a different manner. She glances around, seeing the fallen street light that could have crushed them, the numerous cars that have crashed into each other and the traffic lights still stuck on green. How could Barry react so quickly if she barely had the time to notice any of it?

“Barry, what…” Stephanie swallows, trying to put some order into her messy thoughts. “How… Why…”

He isn’t listening to her incoherent babbling. Barry is still looking up, although his gaze is fixed on the roof of a building. A dark figure looms there, and his heart skips a beat in realization. Barry checks his phone, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he reads the screen. He has three missed called and ten texts.

“I gotta go” Barry stumbles over his words, suddenly even more frantic that during their near death experience. “I-I hate to leave like this, but I’m really late, I’m supposed to be somewhere else”

“Y-Yeah” Stephanie tries to recover from the shock and confusion. “Okay…”

“Can you walk home, are you okay?”

“I think so”

“Are you sure”

“Yeah”

“Steph?”

She stares at him, finding her lost concentration when she locks eyes with him. His worry seems to lessen when she manages to finally focus her gaze. Showing him that gesture that warms his heart, Steph nods and reassuringly smiles at him. He heaves a sigh in relief.

“Take care, okay?” He mumbles, in a sudden urgent hug. “I’ll call you soon”

“Okay” Stephanie clings on to him, lingering in the embrace and treasuring it for just a moment longer. As she does, she takes the breath she has needed so badly during those long minutes in which she couldn’t breathe.

When he pulls away, she has to hold back a groan of complaint. Her warmly smiles and waves goodbye at her. She does too. Then, Barry briskly walks away, urgently holding on to his phone.

Stephanie watches him in fascination, her eyes fixed on his back as he distances himself from her. There had been a new look on his face, an expression of mature determination and somber commitment. She had never seen anything like that. Barry has changed, and she doesn’t know in which way exactly. Stephanie is left with thousand of questions buzzing in her brain as she walks home in a daze.

Tag list: @scared-to-be-lonely345 // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!! ​

#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #barry allen imagine #ezra miller #justice league #justice league imagine #justice league series #dc #dc series #dc imagine #oc #series #original character

[risingsouls]

[Consider this your Chrimbus gift from me, @fusiioneternal! I got this dumb idea in my head and couldn’t get it out, so it got turned into your Christmas gift drabble. It’s pretty cute so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Also, I hope there aren’t too many typos; I got too excited and wanted to post it RIGHT NOW and didn’t really edit :’D]

He didn't feel particularly obligated to celebrate the season outside of finding a gift or two for Trunks and Goten. It was another day to him otherwise, his daily routine unbroken while others exchanged gifts, spent time with family and friends, held parties, and made a big deal out of joy and goodwill toward men until the clock struck midnight and they returned to their usual, less jolly demeanors.

Still, it surprised him when Nabooru reached out to him with a request to bake festive cookies together. Coming from an entirely different culture herself and with barely a mention of the holiday, he assumed she would treat the season like any other and continue her usual routine. When asked point blank why she was bothering with any kind of celebration when she didn't particularly have reason or care to celebrate the holiday herself, she replied that she wanted to make his first Christmas special, even if in a small way like the tradition of baking cookies. That she knew he liked to cook, and this was far simpler and more appealing than a party and dealing with a bunch of likely drunk people or worrying about getting each other gifts. Her logic sound enough, he ultimately agreed.

When the Gerudo opened the door of her modest desert home, he was relieved to see she hadn't gone overboard, both for his sake and her own. She wore her normal brand of clothing--a long, quartz-colored skirt that clung to her legs and a simple white cropped tank top--and mostly gold jewelry, and the decor of the house remained the same as he usually saw it. It meant he didn't feel underdressed or not holly jolly enough in his simple but comfortable navy, three-quarter-sleeved v-neck, khakis, and sneakers. The scent of sugary confections wafted out the door and to his nose. Nothing burned yet, it seemed.

"Started without me, huh?" he asked, stepping inside when beckoned by her hand, currently covered by an oven mitt with the likeness of a green lizard. Its pink tongue stuck out between the thumb and the rest of the mitten, and the glass bead eyes stared off to either side. "I didn't take you for the type to like cheesy oven mitts like that, either."

"I wanted to try the first batch on my own. Lila gave me the recipe and said it was one you would probably like better since it's not as overly sweet as most and that even I couldn't mess up. So I decided to see if she was right," she stated, closing the door behind them. "As for my oven mitt, I think it's adorable. It reminds me of the Lizalfos from my home planet."

"Lizalfos?"

Gogeta started to follow her back to the kitchen, but before he could enter, Nabooru turned back around to block him. "Nuh uh. I only have one more tray to shape and cook and I don't want you hovering over my shoulder trying to correct me." She gave him a gentle push back toward the living room before slipping into the kitchen. "You can help me decorate the ones I've already finished, too, but not until I'm done."

Gogeta considered ignoring her or at least seating himself at the island bar separating the kitchen and living room, but settled on behaving and plopped down on the couch instead. He watched her pull a tray of cookies from the oven and replace it with another before returning to finishing up the supposed final batch of the batter she had already made. From his angle, he couldn't see past the lip of the counter.

"As for Lizalfos," she began, rolling out the dough with a rolling pin, "they're like lizard people. They wore armor and knew how to use swords, spears, and even bows. Smart in that way, but typically pretty dumb. But in an endearing way as long as they weren't trying to kill you."

The fusion snorted. "Was there anything on your home planet that didn't want to kill you?"

"Yes, but they were far rarer than the creatures that did," she responded with a grin. "Especially in the desert. If the landscape and weather itself wasn't out to kill you, the animals and monsters out there would. Why else do you think I'm so tough?"

Gogeta chuckled, knowing her could give her a plethora of other reasons for that, but he decided most of them could threaten the good mood. Instead, he watched her slice into her rolled out dough with a little person-shaped cookie cutter. 

"Did you find anything for Goten and Trunks yet?"

Gogeta blew his bang out of his face and crossed one leg over the other. He stretched his arms out along the length of the back of the couch. "No, not yet," he admitted dismally, staring at the blank TV screen as if it might offer some insight to his plight. "It's hard to think of anything for a kid who has everything or could have whatever he wants at the drop of a hat and the other whose mother insists I only get him books. No toys and no woodland creatures for pets. Basically, nothing fun."

Nabooru hummed and began laying out her dough people on another cookie sheet. "Mm, that does sound tough." She dropped one of her unbaked cookies with a string of curses in her native tongue. She ducked below the counter and picked it up, tossing the soiled dough into the trash bin. "Maybe you could just spend a whole day with them or something? Take them to the amusement park or zoo or maybe even fishing? I know Bulma and ChiChi haven't been exactly...accommodating, but surely this time of year they'd be a little easier to work with."

"Maybe. I'm not really optimistic about it, but stranger things have happened." Just thinking about the kids' mothers and their less than stellar treatment of him since his formation threatened to sour his mood. While they didn't outright bar him from seeing or spending time with the boys, they didn't make it easy on him to. Or comfortable. "I suppose I could just do whatever I want for them no matter what they say."

"That's the spirit," Nabooru agreed with a laugh. She had picked up a piping bag filled with white icing. She bent low over the counter and began squeezing the icing onto a cookie. "It's basically your job to spoil them now. Or spoil them more when it comes to Trunks."

"What a good influence you are."

"Never claimed to be one." She observed her handiwork for a moment then nodded. "I'd say that's almost perfect."

She transferred it over to a plate, sprinkled something on it, then carried it over to him. She held the plate with both hands down at eye level for him, beaming. "I made you!"

The Saiyan peered down at the plate and quickly found her grin to be a contagious one. Sure enough, surrounded by blue and yellow sprinkles was a miniature, cookie version of himself. She added extra dough to make his spiky hair and add a little more dimension to his pants and vest. The icing polished off the details from adding color to the otherwise colorless cookie with his black hair and the yellow and blue details of his vest and belt and giving him a little smirk and side-eye expression.

"I think you captured my likeness pretty well. I almost hate to eat it." He took the plate from her. "Thanks, Nabooru."

"Of course! And we'll pretend I got it looking that nice on the first try and I haven't eaten at least four failed attempts already."

"Your secret's are safe with me."

"Good because I sent it to Lila and told her it was my first try." Nabooru laughed and held her hands out to him. "Okay, you can come help me put icing on the rest of these that are done. I tried to make them into different shapes but...well, you'll get to tap into your creativity to figure out what I was trying to make."

He set the plate aside and grasped her hands, allowing her to help him to his feet and lead him to the kitchen. Nabooru slid a large plate piled with unfrosted cookies toward him. Gogeta selected one and observed it, twisting it around in his fingers as he tried to surmise what she meant to shape the cookie into. He thought he could make out four legs coming off a lumpy body and maybe a head.

"Is this a cow, Nabs?" he asked, chuckling softly and holding it up.

She glanced over at it. "That one was supposed to be a cat…" Nose scrunched and lip poked out in a pout, she huffed. "It's not as easy as it looks! I'd like to see you do better when we make the next batch of dough."

Gogeta grinned and grabbed the black and white icing. "And if I do better than you, that means I get the title of best baker outside of East City, then?"

"Yeah, if." The timer on the oven dinged, and she slid her oven mitt back on. "I've gotten pretty good since I made that cat."

"You mean cow." She glared over her shoulder as she pulled the cookies from the oven and set them aside to cool, only amusing him more. He began piping white icing onto the cookie. "But I guess I can't doubt you on that though. You made cookie me look like me, so maybe you'll offer a challenge."

Nabooru slid the new tray into the oven and set the timer. "Whoever makes the nicest looking cookies with the new batch wins title of best cookie baker that isn't Lila. Deal?"

Gogeta finished piping the black spots and a pink snout onto his cookie before setting it aside. "You're on."

#fusiioneternal #alksjdfk it was too soft for me not to write #and silly #but they're adorable and dorks