#spellcheck and grammar and such

[essektheylyss]

The other thing I do during episodes is edit fic for posting reasons, and I am dying right now because the actual things on my writing to do list are:

edit a poem

write a fic scene

edit a whole ass book

And I cannot do any of these things during this cuz it requires way too much brainpower.

[lizardsfromspace]

*misses one doubled "s" in a word, perhaps the most common typo in the world*

Google Docs Spellcheck: "What the FUCK are you trying to say, you freak? Are you illiterate? Are you BLIND? I can't even recognize this word. It may be misspelled, but god, I give up!!! This is so hard, I, can't do it,"

*types "ad nauseam"*

Google Docs Spellcheck: "You meant 'ant nausea', right? Here, let me just change that quick. I'm so helpful. :)"

[butchniqabi]

1001N.exe by Amatullah Bourdon

Summary: A stranger speaks to the AI Scheherazade, rumored to be the only true manufactured consciousness.

Warnings: Robot misery, some unreality

Words: 3651

omg so. i'm SICK of looking at this. it's technically 31 pages but dont let that discourage you, it's just the chat format that makes it drag out so much. i was, as always, deeply inspired by Do Robots Deserve Rights? Let's Discuss written by @mitskeen and the question of the ethics of forcing an ai to perform a task it dislikes, it really awoke smn...

anyways this is the first story ive put out in forever i hope you guys enjoy. this is a lil longer than my normal stuff but i was possessed so i hope youll forgive me

READ HERE

[xenascribbles]

google docs should stop constantly giving me the blue squiggle when i type “on to”. i do not mean onto. i mean on to. leave me alone.

[celestialtrolls]

The Moment I've Been Waiting For

-- thalassicCounterpart [TC] has started trolling calmedStorm [CS] --

TC: Aelynn. TC: I know we SSaid we weren't going to discuSSSS THingSS I find in THe fleet SSySStemSS anymore, but I THink THiSS iSS important enough to warrant a... deviation from THat rule. CS: urghhh dude i woke up like 10 minuteS ago, can a bitch at leaSt get dreSSed before you Start trying to tell me Some dire newS? TC: Aelynn, it'SS about THat carnival.

---

"What message warrants your presence on my property, child?"

"My queen, a suspicious observation vessel has been hovering nearby for quite some time now, and some of our members have contacted us to say there is strange fleet activity in the city to our north-east." A nervous looking purpleblood with a clipboard gestures vaguely with a pen in the aforementioned direction, their eyes fixed to the grass under their feet in the presence of the Queen of Hearts, not noticing the slight furrow forming in her brow as they speak. “More people are arriving each day, and security has increased considerably around their shipyards and spaceports.

There is a long moment of silence in the garden, broken by a soft exhalation from the Grand Highblood as she stands up, looking up to the mostly clear night sky, away from the messenger who finally glances up.

"Is that so... What drastic measures they're preparing to take against our good citizens, hmm?" Her smooth voice sounds almost concerned for a moment, but at the end she can't help herself from letting the grin reach her words. "Finally... I have been waiting for this moment. The empire truly is so lenient towards their precious carnivals these days, I wondered if they would ever find the resolve to target us."

Authority enters her voice as she returns her attention back to her audience. "Spread the word that our people's safety is only guaranteed while they're within my walls. I cannot protect them if they decide to leave and observe from afar - However! Send our three primary performance groups out, one to each of our surrounding cities - incognito for now. They know their roles already, I want them to be prepared."

Shadowy figures fade from dark corners between the nearby houses, but one shadow manifests as the sound of heavy garments and jewellery grows closer. "Creator?! What is the meaning of this?" A masked troll sprints over, his voice laced with panic, contrary to his elegant appearance. "If they send warships, how are we supposed to fight back? We don't have those kind-"

"Hush, darling Jack of mine." Ceremiré turns, making a shooing motion to the messenger troll who scurries off with their orders before steepling her fingers and her glowing purple eyes settle instead on the source of the interruption. "There will not be even a lick of flame or single bullet that will pierce our home, do not fear. I have been preparing for this since taking out that... empire spokesfish."

Her words do not settle the fidgeting of the Jack of Hearts, who picks at the seams of his robe, glancing up to the sky as if ships were due to appear any second. "Th- That was the regional emperor..." Is murmured under his breath, but the clarification is lost on the grinning queen.

Ceremiré steps forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, staring straight through the eyeholes of his mask, eyes glowing purple as the air shimmers around them. "It's time for us to truly make our mark on this planet. Suits Carnival will become more than just a settled troupe of purple subjugglators and former misguided followers. It's time someone showed Alternia that an empire built on the waves is no foundation at all."

His shoulders tense, the feeling of unease tangible despite the mask hiding his face. "...Ceremiré, answer me plainly, I beg of thee. Are you intending to rule this planet? Dethrone the empire? Are your ideals truly that lofty? I fear that your sweeps spent dead have given you a false sense of our reality."

The air stops shimmering, freezing as it hangs around them, more of a choking fog than a beautiful aura as her expression turns dark. The Jack's breath catches in his throat as the Queen's oppressive gaze bores straight into him, like the maw of a bear clamping around his head, and then, as capricious as the wind, it all fades away as Ceremiré spins on her heel to take a few steps further into the garden behind her quarters, away from the light.

"You truly are bold." It doesn't sound like a compliment, but a threat, and her face is too obscured by shadows to tell her true intention. "I chose to settle and I built our city here for a reason. One neglected region, with no natural resources of its own, no profit to be made... Not even a single living cavern. How much does the empire really care for it? How long will they lay siege until they recognise it as a waste of time and resources?"

"What if it's just about the principle? What if it ne-"

Jack of Hearts’ voice is cut off mid-sentence when Ceremiré clicks her fingers, and they frantically grasp at the mask as crystals form in the space and fuse his mouth with the carved wood, silencing them.

"That's enough. You will learn not to doubt me after this."

[c00kietin]

Bro do you ever spell sorry so much you think it’s spelled wrong?

I’m fr here like:

“Sorry. Hm-nah that don’t look right? Sory? SORAY?! NAHHHHH” :explodes:

Can't relate, sorry :)

[good--merits-accumulated]

mini-oneshot; post Neil's death. the usual content warnings apply - depression + some pretty severely bad mental health + alcohol + injury + quite a bit of swearing.

For a long time afterwards he lay and did nothing. He lay until his bones fused with the sheets and Meeks started to look pale and then they came in and threatened him with suspension so he got up and went to class. But in his mind he was lying still, all the time. The others let him alone half out of pity and half out of fright, like a dog that should have been put down when it was a runt. He tried to care but could not care about caring. The new teacher set them an essay on iambic pentameter and instead of writing it he reproduced one of Rimbaud’s poems, the one that began Pitoyable frère! Que d'atroces veillées je lui dus… The essay came back unmarked with a hasty grade scribbled in the margin, and he thought, great. So I can’t even rebel right. Then what the hell did he do it for? At nights he would lie down and listen jealously to the sound of his own breathing, trying to breathe like someone else, and hating all the time the dark mound of blankets that was Cameron’s back in the corner of his vision. 

He lay down and he lay down and he lay down until one night he woke up and he was no longer lying down but climbing out of the window. It had stuck in the frame as he pulled it up but it was holding, and he shimmied his legs out over the narrow sill, avoiding the open bottle of schnapps on the desk, and thought perhaps there had been enough lying, perhaps he would try running. It must be nice to feel the ground beneath your feet, the steady jolt of your heart in your chest, no entrapment, no cage… his fingers spasmed on the sill and his legs kicked involuntarily, like the legs of men when they were sentenced to hang. He made himself stop thinking. And then after that all was an explosion; sound and noise and no light, no light still but the sharp clinical mortuary beam of the moon by the window. He could not touch it, he tried, and then it was gone again out of his sight and Cameron was kneeling over him on the floor of the room, looking furious. What the fuck did you do that for, he was saying, or maybe it was Why the fuck are you acting like this, or even, Why the fuck him and not you? He tried to say something pithy like I was hoping you’d tell me that, slick, but his mouth seemed to be missing somehow. The words came out of him but he kind of knew he had not said them. Cameron knelt there for a long time, his mouth twisting with a great and terrified fury. There was something shining on his face – tears, maybe… he looked closer and it was blood. He looked down at his hands and saw two deep gouges, running lengthways across his palms. Then the words came. Kind of like Jesus, huh? he said, holding his palms up in front of him. Behind Cameron the door opened and Pitts came in. Maybe he’ll come back.

Jesus Christ, said Cameron, you’re drunk. All around them the shards of the schnapps bottle lay like diamonds, glittering, like the water of the lake he could see from the window. He remembered now; he had been trying to get there. His arms ached to swim. Cameron got up and trembled and said, Could have killed yourself. The rest of it he forgot in the time that passed. 

It was some days later that Pitts slapped him round the face; he jolted, surprised, but with no pain. Pull yourself together, he said to him, do you think any of us like seeing you like this, you shit, don’t you dare go away like that. Pull yourself together. It was desperation and it was ugly desperation but even the ugly desperation was something and everything stopped blurring together if only for a second. The anger had drained away with the slap and Pitts said to him, Meeks is sleeping in your bed tonight. You can take his.

They had moved the stack of books on his desk to Meeks’ temporarily, only taking his favourites, and something very muffled inside him began to weep at the sight. Pitts sat him down on the bed which was newly made and shoved him not unkindly into a lying position and tucked the blanket under him on all sides so that he felt enfolded, and said, Sleep. I’m going to bed too.

Not even curfew, Todd said.

Who gives a shit about curfew, said Pitts, it’s some kind of social construct, it doesn’t mean anything. Sleep. You want me to read you a story?

When he woke up again the moon was stark bright and casting light in slabs through the window and the book in Pitts’ hands had slumped to the floor. He had gotten halfway through the Morte d’Arthur. There had been a lake in that, too… He got up and went soundlessly to the window, which did not squeak this time, and climbed out. 

His shoes he left neatly by the bank. When he came back to himself he was already in the water, and it was so lovingly cold he could have cried, and did. The reality of each of his senses came back to life. Cold and cold and cold. He stretched out an arm and the water held it, and a foot and the water held that too. Each spike of ice through his limbs felt sweet. He heard Neil’s voice and saw Neil’s face, saying, No, and he told him No too in return. He would have to take care of himself, now. But he twisted in the water and thought to himself that Pitts would be waiting for him, which was a beginning. 

He pulled himself out of the lake and gasped for long burning moments, heard by no-one, and understood with complete certainty that he was alone. He would always be alone now, in some sense, for the rest of his life. That space within him would be empty. He opened his mouth and said it loudly: “I do not think he is coming back.” There was a relief to the feel of the words in his mouth that made him retch and he started to cry as he retched, ungracefully, sprawled there by the cold and glittering water. 

He cried until the tears and the vomit stopped coming and then he put the heels of his palms on the ground and pushed himself up against them, ignoring the sting. There was a new great and hollow space inside him and a piercing cold clarity and he had left, it seemed, all of his confusion inside the water. He stood up feeling like he had just been born. Then he started walking.

[humanperryfic]

i'm coming here from perryverse and just like. how do I get as good at writing as you are? what's your secret?

Awww thank you! Crazy that you're saying that since I think I've actually improved a lot since writing that fic.

Obviously the number one answer I have is going to be to just write, a lot. I got good as fast as I did because I bingewatched Phineas and Ferb in the first three days of the original Covid lockdown in March 2020, and then wrote a ton of fic because I was lucky to just be insanely bored.

So write. Write a lot. Write when you can. Slap it all out there on the internet. See what sticks.

Answer number two is going to be read, a lot. But not just passively. Read great fanfiction. Ask yourself why it's great. Read terrible fanfiction. Ask yourself why you hate it. Read real books. Ask yourself about what's going on that you like or don't like, especially between the two mediums of print and fic (because they are different! Also, "real" books tend to use a broader variety of vocabulary, which is always good). Read fic written by people who write English as a second, third, fourth+ language (assuming you're a native english speaker). Ask yourself why you would write/rewrite things to flow a certain way.

Read with an eye for things you want to do yourself.

Answer number three? Always have a little bit of outside perspectives and advice coming into your mind. The best way I've found to keep learning at this point is following people that give advice on writing particular characters or things. @cripplecharacters, @writingwithcolor, and @howtofightwrite are some of my favorite blogs to read whenever they post, and they have invaluable advice.

You're never too good of a writer to not learn new things or unlearn biases/misconceptions.

Answer number four is to keep things rotating in your mind. Not always at the front. But somewhere back there. Keep a running list of ideas on your phone or whatever somewhere I have a Discord server that's literally just me, where I keep my ideas for various things sorted, as well as a Noteful notebook for just...random ideas and plotting things out.

You never know what kind of random idea could be your most interesting fic idea.

Answer number five: Don't throw out any of your writing. Keep things around in whatever form you write in. Microsoft Word, Google Drive, whatever. Keep things around, even if they suck and all you wrote is a sentence and a half. You never know what you might come back to...and hey, keeping the old stuff is a great way to look back and see how far you've come.

Every scrap of writing tells a story. Keep it.

Answer number six: With that in mind, do try out writing an entire fic, plot bunny to published, in the AO3 editor at least once. You have to finish it in the month timespan. You have to publish it. It's a challenge, best suited for a shorter oneshot (though I've done it with fics up to 16.5k words lol), but it'll tell you something about how you write.

(If you fall short, copy/paste it all into a separate document and finish it. Don't waste your work.)

Answer seven: Plot brackets. Plot your fic out by writing the very very basics of what you want to happen in square brackets (ex. [perry goes home] [candace teases him about having a crush on someone]). Fill it in in whatever order you want. Make the brackets short and sweet. Use meme references. Or whatever. Make them stupid. Whatever gets the plot and vibes out onto the page.

[insert summarizing quip here]

Answer eight (the random stuff that I can't do a whole paragraph on each): Onelook Reverse Thesaurus. Lifechanger. When you can, write with your internet/cell service turned all the way off so you don't fall into a research/distraction rabbit hole. Try to write ten words every single day. Take a look at TVTropes every so often- Tropes are Tools, and you should know what's in your toolbox. Write about things you're obsessed with. Write the bad stuff. Write the dumb ideas. Write for the fandom with ten fics.

It doesn't matter. Just write it.

[veryrealauthorthings]

[hotshotsxyz]

microsoft word. babe. what the fuck are you talking about

[zours025]

what is your favorite smiths song this is So important to me btw

DISCLAIMER i am a pretty casual smiths fan so I dont know that many songs, mostly the popular ones (this probably says a lot about me, i am embarassed)

That being said here are my top 3 (no particular order and also three of them because i am very indecisive)

"Ask", for the dynamic represented in the lyrics (I really like avoidance in (fictional) relationships i think its funny and its easy to imagine that to this song...) and I also really like the guitars sound throughout the whole song, feels light and clear and that contrasts with the repetition of "the bomb" and i like that.

"There is a light that never goes out", for how angelic (?) Morrissey sounds when hes whining about the double decker bus. I really like the instrumentation right before the chorus as well. in general i just really really like the guitar in most smiths songs... I like applying this one to any ship i like ever and daydreaming animatics of them in my head to this

"Bigmouth strikes again" because it is simply so fucking funny. Chorus is super catchy and constantly gets stuck in my head lol. again as with most smiths songs i like the instrumental lots (^_^)/

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

just syk, you made some typoes in the last post, "went i came to" and "but i'm. cared", dw about it, just letting you know

(This is why I shouldn't proofread posts at 8am with little sleep, ghdjsk

Should be fixed! Thank you for letting me know!)

[dogtoling]

yeah no it’s time to be normal, guys. your characters are great and it’s always a joy to see them.

I’m curious: do you think glass squid and similar species would still be translucent as inklings?

LOL thanks! also good question i was just having this discussion some time ago. it's a really, REALLY good question and i went on a rant about it (in real life), so i'll just try to summarize that rant....

Logically.... no they shouldn't be. From what I understand a lot of glass squid are transparent and/or translucent because it's a very effective way of camouflage to just not be visible basically at all. On the surface of the ocean where sunlight hits you though? i feel like that would be the opposite of good. The only way I could see glass squids being transparent or translucent in any way would be if they were STRICTLY nocturnal, and even in that case I'd expect them to have SOME skin pigmentation.

In the case of glass squid being Inklings meaning they also utilize ink and ink camouflage, they would also have a giant neon ink sac that sort of completely undermines the point of having transparent skin in the first place. Unless the ink sac was pigmented in a way that doesn't let the neon color of the ink through, I guess. I do feel like if glass squids made it into Splatoon, they WOULD be kept translucent though, given that it's kind of their whole thing? I'd expect their skin to be translucent enough to make it easy for them to REALLY camouflage into ink... but you'd still be able to see their organs, so in a way that's literally less effective than just having ink-colored skin. This is something that they COULD work around by having ink-colored pigmentation on the organs themselves so they match the color of the ink, though. So idk, I'd maybe say some parts of their body might have sparse pigmentation to where you might see veins and organs, but they wouldn't be fully clear. And even with sparse pigmentation they would probably be the squid equivalent of vampires with not being able to be out in the daylight.

TL;DR I don't really dedicate time thinking about glass squids or octopuses because they're the kind of species that wouldn't make sense to keep their core traits as surface animals, and the kind of species where if you remove these core traits, then there goes the whole point of having that species around. Same reason I don't really touch on a lot of squid species that are VERY similar if not identical to other common squid species (you couldn't really tell them apart from "normal inklings", so there's very little reason to include them when they would look IDENTICAL and would probably be part of a species complex in-universe). So idk that hopefully answers something

[inthewychelm]

ive gotta find a different writing document platform thing because i just cant deal with google docs anymore

[trashartgalleries]

This is the second chapter from a story I'm working on (I'm currently writing chapter 4) and I'd like to know what you think (please be kind to me TTwTT) 😀:

         “Drok's been spacing out all day,” one of the Orc warriors whispers to the other, both their eyes on their captain. He staring up at the sky with his arms crossed and his thoughts on what happened yesterday.

 “A Human? What the hell’s that?”

Vittorio puts his hands on his hips, “I’m not too sure myself; I’m… still learning about the world I’ve been brought in to.”

Drok crosses his arms, “Are you by yourself? Surely you have others like you.”

The shorter slowly blinks as he averts his gaze, a sad expression on his face.

“No.”

“The Gods sure are cruel to only make Vittorio and no one else.” Drok said mentally, “How’s he supposed to reproduce and build up his kind if it’s just him? I wonder where he wandered off to after we talked.”

“Oi, Drok. Chief Magub’s coming this way.”

The Orc captain snaps out of his thoughts after hearing his older brother’s name, standing up to properly greet him.

“Brother,” Magub puts a hand on Drok’s shoulder, “come with me for a second.”

~

         “Why’re we in the dungeons?” Drok asked as he followed Magub down the steps.

“Someone picked up the scent of an outsider and followed it to find.” He gestures towards a cell, “This.”

Drok’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Vittorio lying against the stone floor with his hands chained behind his back.

“Chief Magub.” The wise mother looks at him, “I don’t sense any bloody magic comin’ from ‘im, and his scent’s nothin’ like an Elf’s. It’s… unfamiliar to me. What shall we do with ‘im?”

Magub, “Kill ‘im-.”

Drok, “Wait!”

Everyone in the room blinks twice when Drok hurries to stand in front of the iron bars, “We’d be exterminatin’ new if we kill ‘im!”

Magub knits his eyebrows together, “What are you takin’ about, brother?”

“Don’t.” Drok heard Vittorio faintly plea. The Orc captain clenches his fists before choosing his words carefully, “This man is a very tall Dwarf, nothin’ more!”

The wise mother slowly blinks, “But his scent’s nothin’ like Dwarf’s.”

Drok perks up, “And you also said that it’s nothin’ like an Elf’s so we shouldn’t kill ‘im! I’ll keep an eye on ‘im!”

Magub crosses his arms as he raises a curious eyebrow, “You sure about this, brother?”

“I’m dead serious; he’ll serve me as my servant.”

Magub thinks for a moment then nods, “Alright, I trust your judgement on this, Drok. ‘ere,” he tosses something in the air, “use the keys to free ‘im, and be sure to keep a close eye on ‘im. I don’t need an Elf spy among my people.”

Drok watches his brother and the wise mother leave the dungeon before turning to unlock the cell stepping inside.

“Before I unlock those cuffs, look me in the eyes ‘nd tell me you’re not an Elf in disguise.”

Vittorio lifts his head, “I don’t even know what an Elf is.”

The Orc examines the Human’s facial expression before moving to free his wrists, sitting down next to the smaller as he rubs them.

“I’d love to free you completely, but my brother’s suspicious of you. For the time bein’ you and I are gonna be spendin’ a lot of time together.”

Vittorio sighs as he sits on his ass, “I understand… just…,” he looks at Drok, “can I have three days to myself each month?”

Drok tilts his head, “What for?”

“I can’t tell you.”

The larger huffs, “And why’s that?”

The smaller huffs back, “Because I just can’t.”

Drok huffs again then pats Vittorio’s head, “Fine; I’ll respect ya privacy.”

The Human blushes softly at the sudden act of physical affection, timidly averting his gaze as the Orc rubs his hand from side to side. He moves his hand back, “Before I can show ya around, and take ya to my place, the wise mother has to find out what ya are.”

“As in… my race?”

“Nah, ya second gender.” Drok scoffs as he rolls his eyes, “It’s somethin’ the Elves discovered a few generations back, but everyone has a second gender.”

Vittorio tilts his head curiously, “Second… gender?”

“You really don’t know anythin’, do ya?”

The shorter shakes his head no.

~

         Vittorio looks around the large hut curiously as Drok guides him towards the wise mother, “Brought him; let’s get this over with so I can get him settled at home.”

“Young man,” she lifts her hand at the large crystal ball next to her, “please touch this gem.”

Drok notices Vittorio take a cautious step back, looking down at him while placing a hand on his back in a supportive manner.

“It’s alright, Vittorio, it doesn’t hurt.”

The Human thought for a moment then turned to grab the Orc’s hand with his, the action taking Drok off guard. No one’s ever done something like this before, it made his heart jump into his throat.

He blushes softly as he allows the human to drag him forward with him, before the two stopped walking. Vittorio thinks for a moment then places his free hand on the round gem, his eyes widening when some wind gushes from it. His other hand tightens its grip on Drok as his breathing picks up a little, calming back down when the taller squeezed back.

Vittorio slowly moves his hand back then blinks twice when an unfamiliar symbol forms above the crystal from the wind it produced, unaware of the bewildered expressions on the wise mother’s and Drok’s face.

“An omega?” Drok asked in disbelief, his eyes widening as far as they could go when he realized something. That’s why Vittorio asked for three days out of the month when he could be alone, to deal with his heat.

“What are you?” the wise mother asked as she cups her hand against the Human’s cheeks, “You’re a man, correct?”

“Yes,” Vittorio answers, blinking as his head is cocked in different directions. Drok looks at him, “But you’re also an omega; male omegas aren’t real!”

Vittorio, “I don’t know what that is. All I know is that three days each month my ass gets wet, and my body gets hot, and I can’t move around much. I pee standing up and I shit sitting down.”

The wise mother thinks for a moment then sighs, “How much don’t you know?”

Vittorio, “A lot; I’m… new to all this.”

She hums then moves her hands back before looking at Drok, “I would tell chief Magub to let him go, but he could be lyin’ about not knowin’ anthin’.”

Drok nods, “Then let’s give ‘im a year. If he truly knows nothin’ then we can let im’ go. If he’s lyin’, and he’s actually a spy from the Elven kingdom, then I’ll handle his execution.” “Very well, I’ll let the chief know of your choice.” She looks back at Vittorio, “For what it’s worth, welcome to the Orc Tribes.”

-

I wanted to combine the A/B/O dynamic with a fantasy world that humans just spawned into a few generations later... and I wanted to do Alpa!Orc / Omega!Human 👉👈😗

I hope this, at least, seemed interesting! 😁

[im-sorry-what-ii]

Im getting slightly annoyed at myself bc my wip that I promised myself I would finish a month ago is currently only 1/3 done (being generous) and that's pre editing , aaand Im going to stay with family in about 2 weeks which means no access to my computer, and I get back in like. january. which means I can't finish or post it until then and ughhh