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scoutofmymind · 6 months ago

Note

Saw that someone said Luigi’s Reddit had a post where he eluded to a pretty heavy drinking habit in college, which then makes me think about drunk ex!luigi. I’m sorry, but you write angst too well

Unlearn Me — { Luigi x Reader}

Content: SFW, angst, yearning, slight pining, mentions of canon back pain, ex’s reminiscing, heartbreak all over again.

Wc: 4,336 (holy shit)

Notes; Two semesters of carefully crafted distance crumbles at 3AM in the computer lab when your final project implodes hours before the deadline, leaving you with no choice but to seek help from the one person you've been avoiding since the breakup.

Before we continue, I cannot ignore that wildfires continue to ravage Los Angeles, countless families have lost their homes and livelihoods. I urge you to consider supporting those affected through any of these donation links, additionally, Roadogs on Instagram is looking for fosters for mass evacuations of shelter dogs in California.

Foster or donate if you can. xo.

Now, let’s go.

"Mother fucker," you curse, attacking your keyboard with increasingly desperate keystrokes.

Each combination might be the one to salvage this disaster, but deep down you know it's hopeless — your software has corrupted itself into oblivion, taking six months of work with it.

"You can ask for an extension," Emma suggests, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion that matches your own. Your roommate had burst into the media center still wearing her pink silk pajamas, immediately launching into a nervous tirade about after-hours permissions and potential expulsion risks.

Her constant hovering and worrying grates on your last nerve, and you tell her to leave.

Predictably, she refuses.

"Listen, I'm not just gonna leave you here on your own." She leans across your workspace, her body pressing against your laptop screen until it tilts halfway closed. You freeze, fingers suspended above the keys, terrified of losing what little progress you've made in this digital archaeology expedition. "There's - like - a murderer on campus."

"One girl said she was followed home," you gently remind. Under normal circumstances, Emma's mother-hen routine would be endearing — charming, even. But right now, with your project in shambles and deadline looming, her protective hovering feels suffocating. "Not murdered, Em."

"May as well have been." Emma fixes you with that look — the one that screams why am I the only rational person here? While her nails tap nervously against your desk. "Probably hasn't left her room since. And you know what? Smart girl.”

You scrub your hands over your face, your eyes fixed on the projector's word vomit — an endless stream of error messages and unintelligible code painting the drywall from a tired projector like some twisted modern art piece.

Not exactly what you were going for.

Emma stands mesmerized, "How did you even do this?" She watches the cryptic display crawl across the wall, her eyes tracking each line as if she could decode it. "This reminds me of-" she catches herself, the name hanging unspoken between you. She's learned that lesson the hard way. "This is wild.”

You can't help but notice.

Notice how she almost speaks his name, how these meaningless strings of letters and numbers somehow bridge the gap to memories you've tried so hard to bury — promises whispered under star-sprinkled skies, fingers intertwined beneath the cosmic glow.

Moments that felt eternal then, ephemeral now.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, lying face-down like a surrender.

You blink several times, trying to clear the ghosts from your vision before speaking, your voice emerging barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves might shatter something in the air, "Should I text him?" You ask, offering the idea as if it was something too controversial to be spoken aloud.

Emma shifts her weight, both from exhaustion and the sudden weight of responsibility.

Your night's trajectory now rests in her hands — she who has witnessed every shade of you, from triumph to devastation. Her own memories of him surface: the way he'd raid her ice cream stash only to replace it with a premium pint the next day, how he'd tackle the dish mountain without prompting, those small gestures that made him feel like family.

"He was my favorite boyfriend of yours," she'd told you once, in a moment of wine-honest conversation. "He was a good boy."

A good boy who made a couple mistakes.

But those mistakes had compounded like interest on a debt you never agreed to pay, until the rift between you and Luigi widened into an ocean.

Everything good had been pulled out with the tide — your trust, your shared future — swept away to depths where no light could reach.

"I-" Emma's hand finds the back of her neck, her expression cycling through a slideshow of conflicted emotions. You can see her internal struggle; the desire to crawl into her bed warring with her loyalty to you. And she knows you well enough to realize you'd stay here until sunrise if necessary. "I mean — babe, I love you, but you can't fix this." The admission seems to pain her, as if acknowledging your limitations feels like betrayal. "We aren't techies."

You stare helplessly at your gutted gallery, stripped bare by your own accidental digital vandalism. Your artwork, your portfolio, your future — all reduced to incomprehensible strings of code projected onto an indifferent wall.

"Do you think he'd come?" The question escapes before you can stop it, your eyes magnetized to your phone as if your stare alone could resurrect that old text thread, buried beneath months of careful silence.

"Of course he would."

A soft, defeated whine escapes you as you turn back to glare at your corrupted work, as if you could intimidate it into fixing itself through sheer force of will.

Emma's voice softens, "Hey, he's mature enough to understand you've exhausted your options."

A violent shudder runs through you at the thought of Luigi being your last resort.

You'd managed to exile the visceral memories — the heated arguments that left you gasping for air, the promises that turned to vapor in the morning light.

"Which are?"

Emma looks down at her Pokemon-clad self, then back at you. "Me." She gestures vaguely in your direction, "and you."

The campus sleeps around you, everyone else lost to their dreams or late-night calls home. Just the two of you remain, trapped in this dimly-lit purgatory on a Wednesday night, while error messages mock your existence with their endless scroll.

"Slim pickin's," you mutter as your fingers betray you, finding Luigi's contact with muscle memory that refuses to die.

How many times had you pressed these same digits before?

But this is different.

Different because you haven't spoken since that night in your kitchen, when you stood with your back to him, voice steady despite the trembling in your hands, "So, we aren't going to try to figure this out?" You asked, and he’d responded with some pretentious comparison about your relationship being like corrupted code, fundamentally flawed, destined to fail its own quality test.

The irony isn't lost on you — the very metaphor he used to end things is now the thread that might pull you back into his orbit. Your only connection besides the elaborate dance of avoidance across campus, treating each other's paths like holy ground neither dares to tread.

Opening the thread, you're greeted by your last exchange — your final words to him blazing across the screen in angry blue bubbles: "I want my fucking shit back or I'll make your life a living hell." Such poetry. Your new message hovers in the text box, simpler, desperate in its brevity.

Hey need help with somethin. U up??

You thrust your phone at Emma like it's burning your fingers, watching her eyes widen as they catch on those months-old texts — digital artifacts of your rage that should have been scrubbed before tonight's desperate plea. "Jesus," she whispers, amusement dancing in her expression. "I'd still be licking my wounds if I were hi-"

The familiar buzz cuts through the air, a notification chime that once made your heart leap but now makes it sink.

"What'd he say?" You mumble, gaze fixed on the mocking projection that bathes the room in its sickly digital glow, code continuing its relentless march across the wall.

Emma settles into a chair, hunching over your laptop's makeshift altar. "Said he's at Ruddy's." She squints at a fresh message. "He said 'what do you want?'" She deepens her voice into a cartoonish baritone, making him sound like a caveman discovering text messaging for the first time.

You can't blame him for the cold response — you’d scorched that earth thoroughly.

But a selfish part of you wants to delete the whole exchange, pretend this moment of weakness never happened, go back to the careful choreography of avoiding each other's existence.

But you can't.

The corrupted gallery looming on the wall is a stark reminder that pride is a luxury you can't afford right now.

His icy reception is the natural consequence of your scorched-earth campaign, those venom-laced messages sent in the throes of heartbreak and confusion.

You'd played the role of the woman scorned perfectly, even though you'd written your own tragic script.

"Just send him a picture." You wave listlessly at the wall, where your work continues its digital decomposition, folding in on itself like a dying star. The error messages stretch into an endless serpent of nonsense, each iteration making less sense than the last.

The artificial shutter sound of Emma's photo breaks the silence, followed by the soft swoosh of sending. The wait feels eternal until-

Ding

Emma's attention snaps to your phone resting on her thigh, her eyes widening. "He's typing like he-"

Sorry;m,, I’m fucked uo

I am

fucked up

Emma clicks her tongue and rises, crossing the room to lob your phone into your lap, screen up. "Guess some things don't change." You manage a weak half-grin, memories flooding back unbidden — Luigi stumbling into your dorm in the small hours, wrapped in whiskeys warmth, all soft edges and desperate hands.

"Well, make up your mind." Emma's yawn threatens to unhinge her jaw, arms wrapping around herself like armor. "Are we done here, or are you gonna have him come take a look?"

I’n be there son

I’ll be rherw soo

I’ll be there soon

You stand to wrap your arms around Emma’s shoulders who reluctantly curves her arms upward to squeeze your shoulders. “Go home.” She seems reluctant to listen, staring at your phone screen as if it would take her home itself. “I promise, I’ll be just fine.”

The space between you pulses with that unique warmth reserved for someone who shares your roof, your darkest secrets, and the monthly struggle with Con Edison. "Just don't make any brash decisions."

"Oh, Em." You press a kiss to her forehead. "You think I'm so much cooler than I am."

Emma's laugh follows her as she spins toward the door, collecting pieces of herself like breadcrumbs — the scarf draped over a chair, the coat hung forgotten, the backpack abandoned when the day still held promise.

Each item a marker of how long this digital nightmare has stretched, from sunshine to moonlight.

And as if summoned by cosmic irony, the lab door swings open to reveal Luigi. "Oh - hey, E." The surprise flickers across his face before he schools his features back to neutral.

"Hey, Lu." Her greeting carries the easy familiarity of their old routine, like NPCs in a cozy game exchanging preset dialogue, their paths crossing exactly as programmed.

"You g'na help me with this?"

Emma shakes her head, patting his shoulder as she passes — a gentle handoff. "I did my time." You want to protest, but words fail as you absorb the sight of him, eight months of careful avoidance crumbling in an instant.

"Ahh-" Luigi waves, feigning disappointment through the druken haze. "Need a walk back home?"

Ever the shepherd, guardian of late-night wanderers.

It didn't matter who you were — friend, stranger, ex-lover’s best friend and roommate — his self-appointed mission to ensure everyone's safe return never wavered.

You'd once wondered if it stemmed from some deeper anxiety, his mind unable to rest until every sheep was accounted for in its fold.

Tonight though, the alcohol has mercifully dulled that protective instinct. Emma's potential disappearance into the night ranks lower on his list of concerns than usual, although Emma herself had been the one earlier to warn you of the murderer on campus.

"You still got my location," Emma reminds him — a callback to conversations past, to the day she'd granted Luigi permanent access to her whereabouts, a level of trust you'd wisely withheld.

"Right."

She presses a kiss to her fingers, flashing you a peace sign with the same hand before it briefly lands on Luigi's shoulder. Then she's gone, disappearing into the snow-globe world he'd just stumbled in from. He stands before you now, arms hanging like dead weight, his eyes somehow both wide and narrow.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey."

You gesture weakly at the wall where your work writhes in digital agony. "So, uh — remember that time you salvaged Professor Wren’s entire thesis when her drive crashed?"

Luigi's eyes follow your hand, professional interest temporarily overriding the awkwardness. He steps closer, squinting at the corrupted display, "Jesus," he mutters, "what did you do to it?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" The laugh that escapes is more nervous than you'd like. "It just. - it started disintegrating during final checks."

He's already pulling out his laptop, muscle memory from countless late-night tech rescues. The familiarity of it hits you in the chest — how many times had you watched him do this same thing, hunched over his keyboard, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration?

"I can try," he says finally, not quite meeting your eyes. "But no promises. When's this due?"

"Tomorrow at nine."

"Of course it is." He drops into the chair beside you, close enough that your elbows almost touch, but enough of a distance to still feel far away. “Okay, walk me through what it's supposed to look like when it's not — uh - whatever this is."

For a moment, Luigi stares at the corrupted display where red pixels bleed and stutter across the wall. His fingers hover over his keyboard, then pause. "Wait. This is your circulatory modeling project? The one you were-“ He cuts himself off, remembering this was before the eight months of silence.

"Yeah." You swallow. "It was working perfectly until an hour ago. Real-time hemodynamics, pressure differentials, vessel elasticity. Everything." Your voice cracks slightly on the last word, feeling more helpless when you verbalize it.

He nods, already typing with uncanny precision despite the slight sway in his posture. "Show me the base code. Did you save any backups?"

"Three. All corrupted." You lean forward, careful not to crowd him as you pull up the mangled files. "It's like something got into the core simulation and just - I dunno - started rewriting them."

"Hm." His eyes scan the screen with that laser focus he somehow maintains no matter how much he drinks, that familiar furrow appearing between his brows. "These values are cascading. One corrupted variable triggering a chain reaction through the whole system." He glances at you, slightly overshooting before correcting. "When's the last time it ran correctly?"

You check your phone. "6:43 PM. I have a screen recording from then."

"Good. That's good." He pulls up a second window, his typing still flawless even as he reaches with his free hand to steady himself against the desk. "We can compare the execution logs, maybe isolate where it started going wrong." His fingers fly across the keys with a precision that seems to mock his clearly inebriated state, and for a moment, it feels like those eight months never happened. "I'm going to need coffee for this." He looks up at you from where he sat, “Or more booze.”

You land on coffee, your feet carrying you down the familiar path to the kitchenette.

The fluorescent lights flicker dimly at this hour, casting strange shadows across the linoleum, the lab's overpriced espresso machine hums to life under your touch, its gentle whirring a counterpoint to the distant sound of Luigi's typing.

Suddenly you're back in that first year, both of you hunched over at 3 AM, him teaching you the proper way to pull a shot: “You're murdering it, stop torturing the beans”, your quiet laughter echoing through empty halls.

"Got it.” His voice carries down the corridor, slurred but triumphant, snapping you back to present.

You return to find him illuminated by screen-glow, his tie loosened and dark hair disheveled. The paper cup lands in front of him — double shot, one packet of raw sugar.

He doesn't stir it, never has.

Instead, he tips the cup back, and you hear that familiar crunch of sugar crystals between his teeth, a sound that used to drive you crazy, until somewhere along the way it became endearing.

Still, the jumbled code taunts you from the screen, though its chaos seems less threatening now. Under Luigi's touch — steady despite the alcohol — your final project is slowly remembering its original shape.

"You should have texted sooner," Luigi murmurs, tilting his head back to collect the last sugar crystals from his cup. The movement exposes his throat, his collar wrinkled where he's been tugging at it all night.

"Well," you say, watching the way his fingers dance across the keys, each stroke precise despite his obvious intoxication, "takes a minute to swallow something as big as my pride."

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, eyes never leaving the screen where broken code is knitting itself back together under his attention.

"Oh," he huffs out a laugh, the sound low and dangerous in the quiet lab, "I've seen you swallow far bigger things before."

It strikes like summer lightning — quick, bright, and leaving the air charged in its wake. The innuendo lands with no real bite, yet you find your jaw slack, a startled laugh shaking loose from your chest.

"Kidding," Luigi says, his eyes flicking from screen to you and back again. There’s a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, softened by the alcohol but still sharp enough to cut. You wave him back to his work, grateful for the blue glow of monitors that hides your flush. "You kinda set that up perfectly, though."

He squints up at the projection where your broken code still bleeds across the wall, letting out a soft grunt of frustration at some digital roadblock. "Just mean — ya know, you could have caught me two beers deep instead of seven."

You shrug a shoulder, watching as the projection slowly crystallizes into something recognizable. "Seems you work better under such conditions."

The lie tastes metallic.

You both know the truth.

Luigi would have come if he was sober as sunrise or drowning in bourbon. Would have come with broken ribs or pneumonia or his heart barely beating. Would have traced these familiar hallways blind, deaf, or dying — because that's what the two of you do.

Have always done.

You've seen him at rock bottom, curled into himself on cold bathroom tiles at midnight, trembling hands pressed against his mouth as if he could physically hold back the pain that wracked his body. Watched him try to explain to puzzled doctors how someone so young could hurt so constantly, the frustration in his voice when they suggested it was all in his head.

You were there through the trials of medications, the nights when existence itself seemed too heavy to bear.

And you've seen him soar; standing tall in that charcoal suit that made him look older, more polished, shaking hands with tech giants who saw in him what you'd always known was there, his future spreading out before him like a golden road, brilliant and boundless.

Now he sits here, seven drinks deep but coding like he's never been clearer, and you realize that maybe both versions are equally true.

Maybe that's what makes him Luigi — the ability to contain multitudes, to be simultaneously broken and brilliant, wounded and wonderful.

He catches you watching him and raises an eyebrow, the gesture slightly delayed, which means you must have been a bit too obvious. "What?"

"Nothing.”

His fingers pause on the keys, and even through the alcoholic haze, his gaze pins you like a butterfly to cork. "No, really. What?" The words have a slight blur around their edges, but his focus is knife-sharp.

You could deflect again, but there's something about 4 AM and code that glows like dying stars that makes honesty feel less dangerous, perhaps you’re finding comfort in the fact that Luigi is drunk, although you’re stone cold sober.

"Just thinking about that time in the Thompson building bathroom." Your voice comes out softer than intended. "When you couldn't stand up, and I had to convince the janitor you had food poisoning."

He doesn't flinch from the memory like he used to.

Instead, his mouth curves into something caught between a smile and a grimace. "You told him it was from the cafeteria." His fingers resume their dance across the keyboard, but slower now. "Got the whole place investigated by health services."

"Yeah, but got us three days off while they checked fucking everything.” you remind him.

"Got me through that week," he corrects quietly, and for a moment, the mask of that brilliant-drunk-techie slips, showing the man underneath who still remembers what it feels like to be held together by nothing but someone else's faith in you.

Then he blinks, and the vulnerability is gone, replaced by that familiar crooked grin. "Though I maintain the cafeteria deserved the inspection anyway."

The projection flickers, another section of code healing itself under his touch, and you wonder if he knows you'd do it all again.

Every bathroom floor, every late-night crisis, every moment of putting him back together - you'd choose it every time.

"Speaking of which," you venture carefully, watching his hands move across the keyboard. "How's the new treatment working?"

His right shoulder shifts in what might be a shrug, but there's a shadow of a real smile playing at his mouth.

Not the sharp, defensive one he wears like armor, but something softer, more genuine. "Six months post-op and I actually slept through the night last week. First time in -“ he pauses, considering, "Fuck, I don't even remember how long."

The admission hangs in the air between you, weighted with the two years of 2 AM phone calls, of nights spent pacing, of pain medications that never quite touched the core of the problem.

Watching him try to code through hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

"Still hurts sometimes," he adds, almost absently. "But it's different now. More like background noise than a scream." His fingers still on the keyboard, and for a moment he looks almost surprised by his own words. "Guess that's what normal people feel like all the time, huh?"

The question carries an edge of wonder, like someone who's lived in darkness suddenly discovering dawn.

You watch him roll his shoulder — a gesture that used to be followed by a wince but now flows smooth and unconscious — and think about how strange it must be, learning to live without constant pain after it's become part of your identity.

"Though I kind of miss having an excuse to drunk-code at 4 AM" he adds, but you both know it's a lie.

The code blurs on the projection as silence settles between you, charged with something that's been building for ages — through bathroom floors and hospital visits, through triumphs and failures, through pain and healing.

The alcohol has stripped away Luigi’s careful boundaries, leaving raw honesty in their place.

"You know," Luigi says slowly, finally turning from the screen to face you fully, "I never thanked you properly. For all of it."

"You don't need to-"

Your diagram pulses back to life, the holographic heart rotating lazily against the wall.

Its red glow bathes the room in a surreal warmth, catching on the sharp angles of Luigi's face, softening them into something almost dreamlike.

The light flickers across his cheekbones, turns his eyes to amber, makes the whole moment feel suspended between reality and imagination.

"I do." His voice is quiet but firm, steadier than someone seven drinks deep should manage. "Because I've been thinking — now that I can actually think clearly without-“he gestures vaguely at his back, at all the years of pain, "I've been thinking about how you're the only constant. The only person who never-“ He trails off.

You lean a little closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. "Never what?"

"Never saw me as broken." He turns himself toward you, and there's something desperate in his eyes, something the alcohol has finally given him the courage to show. "Never treated me like I needed fixing. Just stayed. Through everything."

Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. He takes your silence as a sign, turning back to the screen with a sharp exhale that might be resignation or relief — you're not sure which would be worse.

"Lu,” you say softly, and something in your voice makes his fingers still on the keyboard. "Look at me."

He does, slowly, like he's afraid of what he might find.

The neon bathes half his face in crimson, leaving the other half in shadow, and you see the moment his carefully constructed walls start to crumble.

"Time hasn’t changed that much about me.” you say, each word deliberate, heavy with meaning.

His breath catches audibly. You watch the impact of your words ripple across his face — surprise, understanding, and something else, something that makes your heart race against your ribs.

"Hasn’t it?” Luigi is focusing on you now, the reason he really came here now practically completed but pushed aside until further notice. “Eight months is a long time to hold onto -“ he gestures vaguely between you, as if he can’t quite say what it was. Hopeless devotion, the right person, wrong time.

“Not long enough to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“You.”

His breath catches again, a sharp inhale that seems to pull all the oxygen from the room. When he speaks, his voice is rough and ragged, “Maybe that’s the problem.” His gaze drifts down to watch as you lick your lips, and back up again. “Maybe you should have.”

#req #luigi mangione fanfic #Luigi mangione x reader

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nigtmarcz · 5 months ago

Text

⎯⎯ Love Me Not

hamzah x reader

based off the song love me not by ravyn lenae

summary: hamzah has been neglecting his girlfriend y/n due to his busy work schedule. y/n feels invisible and frustrated by his lack of attention.

warnings: sad???

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing, so I’m sorry if it sucks lol. i was listening to this song and thought it would make a great plot for a story! hope you enjoy it! :3

The glow of the computer screen cast soft shadows across Hamzah’s face as he sat hunched over his desk. The air in his room was quiet except for the faint sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard. The newest Slushy Noobz video was almost done—just a few finishing touches before it would be uploaded for their fans who eagerly awaited their next upload.

But tonight, Hamzah wasn’t entirely focused.

His thoughts kept wandering to y/n, his girlfriend. She’d been on his mind constantly lately—more so than usual.

He hadn’t seen her much over the past few weeks. They were both content creators, each with their own projects, and while it was something they’d always been able to juggle in the past, recently it had begun to feel like the space between them was growing. She was in the living room, editing her own content, while he was buried in the latest Slushy Noobz video.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her, but he found himself getting swept up in the grind, constantly chasing the next big upload, the next milestone for his and Martin’s podcast, Out of Character. There was always something to do, something to edit, something to record.

But now, the silence between them seemed louder than ever. They hadn’t fought—at least, not in the usual way—but something unspoken lingered. Something that neither of them had fully addressed. And it was starting to feel like a weight pressing against his chest.

He glanced at his phone. y/n had sent him a message hours ago, but he hadn’t replied. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but everything had felt off.

Her text simply read: We need to talk soon.

The simple words made his heart sink. He knew exactly what she meant. She was frustrated. And he had been too distracted to notice.

With a deep breath, he closed his laptop, pushing the editing software aside. It felt like a relief to step away, but his heart ached with the nagging thought of the distance between them. He stood up, walking into the living room where y/n sat, bathed in the soft glow of her screen.

She looked up when he entered, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Hamzah opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, y/n stood up, her arms crossed. She looked tired, not just physically, but emotionally. He had seen that look before—the quiet frustration that came from being overlooked, from being too far down the list of priorities.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been caught up in work, and I didn’t realize how much it was affecting us.”

y/n gave a small, sad smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “I get it, Hamzah. You’re busy. But we haven’t really talked in weeks. I’ve been here, just waiting for you to notice, but it feels like I’m invisible.” Her voice broke on the last word, but she quickly swallowed the emotion, not wanting to show him too much.

“y/n…” Hamzah stepped forward, but she backed away slightly, a flicker of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite understand.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” she asked softly, almost as if talking to herself. “I’m right here, all the time, and yet it feels like you’re living in another world—one where I don’t exist. Where it’s just you and the next video and the next podcast.”

He could feel the sting of her words, and he hated the way they made him feel like he was failing her.

“I don’t want you to feel that way,” Hamzah said, his voice barely a whisper now. “I don’t mean to make you feel invisible. I just… I don’t know how to slow down sometimes. There’s so much going on, and I get lost in it. But I never meant for you to feel left out.”

y/n shook her head slowly. “It’s not that you’re busy, Hamzah. I get it, I really do. It’s just that I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I’m here, and I care, but I’m starting to wonder if we’re even in the same place anymore.”

His chest tightened as the weight of her words sank in. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to fix it. He hadn’t been paying attention to what mattered most.

“I don’t need you to change everything, Hamzah,” she continued, her voice soft but firm. “I just want to matter to you. I want to be something real, not just an afterthought that comes second to everything else.”

“I do care about you,” Hamzah replied quickly, his heart racing. “I do, y/n. It’s just… it’s hard to balance it all. I don’t want to lose you.”

For a long moment, y/n stayed quiet, her gaze on the floor, her fingers lightly tapping on the edge of her laptop.

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes heavy with a mix of pain and longing. “You say you don’t want to lose me, but you’ve been losing me slowly for weeks. I don’t know if you see it, but I miss you, Hamzah. I miss you, but I don’t need you. I miss the way we were before this whole thing took over. I miss you, come here.”

The words hit him harder than any criticism he’d received. The truth of it all hung in the air, like a silence that neither of them knew how to break.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking just a little. “I miss you, too. But I don’t know how to fix this... I don’t want to keep failing us.”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath. When she opened them again, there was something softer in her gaze, something that felt like a mixture of hope and resignation. “Maybe we just need to find our way back. I don’t know, Hamzah. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to realize I’m here.”

Her words lingered in the air like a shadow between them, a painful truth neither of them could ignore. Without another word, y/n was gone. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was suffocating. The house felt colder now, emptier, as if her absence had seeped into the walls, leaving Hamzah alone with the weight of everything unsaid.

Hours later, as the quiet of the night settled in, Hamzah sat in front of his desk again. His video was still unfinished, but for the first time, the video felt less important than the empty space beside him. y/n was gone now, her absence heavier than any argument they could have had. The silence in the house was suffocating, and the stillness in the air made his thoughts spin.

He stared at his screen, but the words from their earlier conversation kept replaying in his mind: I miss you, but I don’t need you, Hamzah. I miss you, come here. Those words hadn’t just been a declaration of longing—they had been a quiet assertion of independence, a signal that y/n was done waiting for him to notice.

Hamzah rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of what she’d said. She didn’t need him anymore, no matter how much she still missed him. The space between them wasn’t just physical anymore; it was emotional, deep, and unspoken. He realized she had given him a choice—one he hadn’t fully understood until now.

He reached for his phone, hesitated for a moment, then typed a message to her: “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t want to lose you. Can we talk tomorrow?”

He hit send and waited. The seconds dragged on, stretching into what felt like hours, but no response came.

A moment later, the familiar vibration of a reply lit up his phone. He quickly unlocked it, hoping for some kind of resolution. But when he saw her message, a heavy weight sank into his chest.

“Okay.”

The words were short, almost distant. There was no warmth, no eagerness to reconnect. Just a quiet acceptance.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them more suffocating than any physical distance. y/n’s voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to her words that cut through the silence.

“I miss you, Hamzah,” she started, her gaze never leaving the floor. “I miss how we used to be, but I can’t keep pretending that things will go back to the way they were. I’m tired of waiting for you to notice me, for you to put me first. I need to move on, for my own sake.”

Hamzah opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize, to say he could change, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He knew that something had already shifted between them, something that couldn’t be undone with words.

y/n continued, her voice steady despite the ache in it. “I’ve tried, Hamzah. I’ve tried to make this work, but it’s like I’m invisible to you. I’m right here, and you’re always so caught up in your work. I miss you, but I don’t need you anymore.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. The weight of them sank deep, and he realized that she wasn’t just saying goodbye—she was choosing herself. Choosing independence over the emotional attachment that had once connected them.

“I think... I think it’s time we both move forward,” y/n said, her voice quieter now, but firm. “I can’t keep waiting for something that might never come. You’re not the only one with dreams and goals, Hamzah. I’ve got my own life to live, and I can’t keep holding on to something that isn’t there anymore.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of them could fully articulate. Hamzah wanted to reach out, to say anything that might change her mind, but he could see it in her eyes: she had made her decision.

She was already gone.

Later that night, after y/n had left for good, Hamzah sat alone in the empty house. The space felt colder than it had before, as if her absence had stolen the warmth from the walls. He sat in front of his desk, staring at the finished video, but all he could feel was the heavy silence that had taken her place.

The message he had sent her earlier echoed in his mind—I don’t want to lose you. But as he replayed their conversation over and over, he realized that he had already lost her. He had lost her to the space he had failed to notice, to the time he had neglected, and to the love he had taken for granted.

The realization stung more than he expected. He missed her too, more than words could say. But as much as he longed for things to be different, he couldn’t deny the truth: she was better off without him, seeking her own path, her own independence.

Hamzah leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, feeling the weight of everything she had said. He missed her. But more than that, he understood why she had to go. The ache in his chest reminded him that sometimes, love wasn’t enough to hold two people together.

And for y/n, it had been time to let go.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #slushy virus #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fic #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #martin and hamzah

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askablindperson · 1 year ago

Note

In what way does alt text serve as an accessibility tool for blind people? Do you use text to speech? I'm having trouble imagining that. I suppose I'm in general not understanding how a blind person might use Tumblr, but I'm particularly interested in the function of alt text.

In short, yes. We use text to speech (among other access technology like braille displays) very frequently to navigate online spaces. Text to speech software specifically designed for blind people are called screen readers, and when use on computers, they enable us to navigate the entire interface using the keyboard instead of the mouse And hear everything on screen, as long as those things are accessible. The same applies for touchscreens on smart phones and tablets, just instead of using keyboard commands, it alters the way touch affect the screen so we hear what we touch before anything actually gets activated. That part is hard to explain via text, but you should be able to find many videos online of blind people demonstrating how they use their phones.

As you may be able to guess, images are not exactly going to be accessible for text to speech software. Blindness screen readers are getting better and better at incorporating OCR (optical character recognition) software to help pick up text in images, and rudimentary AI driven Image descriptions, but they are still nowhere near enough for us to get an accurate understanding of what is in an image the majority of the time without a human made description.

Now I’m not exactly a programmer so the terminology I use might get kind of wonky here, but when you use the alt text feature, the text you write as an image description effectively gets sort of embedded onto the image itself. That way, when a screen reader lands on that image, Instead of having to employ artificial intelligences to make mediocre guesses, it will read out exactly the text you wrote in the alt text section.

Not only that, but the majority of blind people are not completely blind, and usually still have at least some amount of residual vision. So there are many blind people who may not have access to a screen reader, but who may struggle to visually interpret what is in an image without being able to click the alt text button and read a description. Plus, it benefits folks with visual processing disorders as well, where their visual acuity might be fine, but their brain’s ability to interpret what they are seeing is not. Being able to click the alt text icon in the corner of an image and read a text description Can help that person better interpret what they are seeing in the image, too.

Granted, in most cases, typing out an image description in the body of the post instead of in the alt text section often works just as well, so that is also an option. But there are many other posts in my image descriptions tag that go over the pros and cons of that, so I won’t digress into it here.

Utilizing alt text or any kind of image description on all of your social media posts that contain images is single-handedly one of the simplest and most effective things you can do to directly help blind people, even if you don’t know any blind people, and even if you think no blind people would be following you. There are more of us than you might think, and we have just as many varied interests and hobbies and beliefs as everyone else, so where there are people, there will also be blind people. We don’t only hang out in spaces to talk exclusively about blindness, we also hang out in fashion Facebook groups and tech subreddits and political Twitter hashtags and gaming related discord servers and on and on and on. Even if you don’t think a blind person would follow you, You can’t know that for sure, and adding image descriptions is one of the most effective ways to accommodate us even if you don’t know we’re there.

I hope this helps give you a clearer understanding of just how important alt text and image descriptions as a whole are for blind accessibility, and how we make use of those tools when they are available.

#image descriptions #alt text #accessibility #a11y #screen readers

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hanzajesthanza · 7 months ago

Text

How to read the new Witcher book, Crossroads of Ravens, in English (e-book) [GUIDE]

Thanks to @nohtora for the method, I decided to write up a short post detailing how to use Calibre e-reader to read a side-by-side English translation from the Polish text.

This post is dated 12/02/2024 - as of yet, no English translation has been scheduled, nor even announced. I am writing this because I have seen many fans say they want to read the book and are sad because they can't read Polish and don't want to wait forever for a translation and get to posting memes already. Well, me too.

So, I read it.

Because, if you are an international fan like I, and do not live in Poland, you can still purchase a copy of the new book of Rozdroże kruków ("Crossroads of Ravens") and read it... also in English.

How, you might ask? Well, by buying it and translating it yourself... or rather, not yourself, but with the assistance of... *Percival Schuttenbach voice* modern technology!

Now, when I read it, I did the foolish thing of copying and pasting literally page-by-page into Google Translate. Noels (nohtora) had a much better solution, which I will detail here.

This method is easy, free (well you gotta buy the book, but not the software) and accessible (available on Mac, PC, Linux). If you have access to a computer and are OK with reading from screens, I recommend this.

In total, it took me about 10 to 20 minutes to set up from scratch.

Step 1. Download Calibre, a free and open-source e-reader program. Step 2. Install the translation plugin - also free and open-source. Step 3. Purchase the e-book. Step 4. Open the e-book with the plugin, translate. Step 5. Read!

Step 1: Install your e-book reader.

Download Calibre here. It is a free and open-source e-reader program for laptops/computers (although it does not run on mobile devices). You install it like any other program on your computer (Windows, MacOS, or Linux).

Step 2: Download the translation plugin.

youtube

Use this free Calibre plugin to translate e-books.

Watch until 1:00 to install the plugin. The rest of the video you should return to later, during Step 4.

Notes of steps to install plugin: (1) Open Preferences. (2) Get plugins. (3) Get "Ebook Translator" from Author "bookfere.com"

Step 3: Buy the book.

You can purchase Rozdroże kruków online for about $8.

I purchased my copy from Legimi, which I will show you now. I didn't really poke around for other websites, it seems like Legimi had it the quickest. But other sites will have this ebook eventually, so don't feel pressured to get it from Legimi, specifically. I just wanted to include a "how to purchase" step in this guide because (1) it's a direct link to get it (2) in case people felt anxious about navigating a UI they can't read.

This is what the page for Rozdroże kruków looks like. As you can see, it is currently 34.99 zł, or: $8.57 US, $13.21 Aus, £6.77, or €8.15.

For me, it was $8.49 after foreign transaction fees. (I paid through PayPal).

But before you buy anything, you first need to create an account.

From the homepage, click the yellow button, "Zarejestruj się", "Sign up".

Put your username, email address, password, and confirm password. Check the first box to accept the terms of service. Don't check the second box unless you want their newsletter.

I kind of... already bought the book, so I can't buy it again on this account. I have selected a couple of other books for demonstration purposes. Same process.

Select the "ebook" tab, the right one on the ribbon (underlined in green), to buy the singular book and not a subscription. Then select the yellow button, "Dodaj do koszyka", or "Add to cart".

After adding to your cart, click the yellow button to go to your cart and checkout.

Check to accept the digital distribution agreement.

You can then pay with your credit card or PayPal. (From top to bottom, left to right: "First and last name on card" "Credit card number" "Expiration date" "Security code").

Don't worry that it says you will pay in złoty, it will be converted. There may be a foreign transaction fee depending on your bank, but it is typically small (around 3%). If you are only buying an $8 book, that will not be much.

From here, you are going to want to click the WHITE button: "Przejdź do półki", "Go to shelf". (The green button is to download their application, which we're not gonna do for this).

If you skip this on accident, just go to your profile in the top right corner and click "Półka", "Shelf", to see the books on your account.

You will see it in your shelf. Click on it.

Click the yellow button "EPUB" to download it as a .epub format. Save to your Downloads or where-ever is convenient.

Step 4: Open the book in Calibre.

Refer back to the video from Step 2 for this section and watch the part on how to use the plugin. I will add my example here, too.

Open Calibre. Click "Add Book" at the top of the ribbon. Locate rozdroze-krukow.epub from where you saved it. It will be copied to your Calibre library.

Before starting the translation, make sure to adjust settings in the Translate Book option (sometimes hidden in the ribbon as you can see in my screenshot - just click the kebab menu on the right to bring it up) to export the file the way you would like it to be formatted. I also recommend checking the box in "General" to allow it to merge paragraphs, Google Translate tends to work better when it has more context.

Select Translate Book as shown in the video. Translate into English (or - hey - language of your choice! Sky's the limit). You can also use different translation programs if you'd like, the default is Google.

You should select "Output" at the top right after this is complete.

It will create a separate epub in your library, tagged as "Translation."

Step 5: Read it and have fun! It's a fun read!

I set up my formatting this way because I want to read a Polish paragraph, then an English paragraph, but you can also set it up to be side-by-side (left page in Polish, right page in English), or even hide the original text if you're not interested and just want the translation.

The days of manually copying-pasting into Google translate are over! Thanks again to Noels for sharing this method in the Discord.

Now, this translation will NOT be 100% perfect - this is a Sapkowski novel after all; humans have difficult translating him, and this is only a machine. I wrote a Reddit post about some caveats to this desperate method of translation, and some silliness I specifically encountered with this book (light spoilers, I mention a couple of characters and settings, but no plot points).

My rule of thumb for when the translation is weird: Pay attention to the context. It is usually not too hard to figure out what the translation meant. If you have real trouble understanding it, or are just curious, Google the Polish phrase that it seems to be hitching on. Make use of Reverso Context, Reddit (r/learnpolish), and Polish learning forums.

Oh, and make sure to watch out for "grasshoppers" ;)

Finally, I recommend you also support the official English translation when it does come out; if not to compare translations, to show Orbit-Gollancz that English readers do want more translations (and ideally we'd like them sooner rather than later).

Good luck on the path ~ Powodzenia na szlaku ~

#the witcher books #the witcher #andrzej sapkowski #witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #Youtube

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morgan-va · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 29: Remembering. (Serial Designation V x reader)

Masterlist

TW: Descriptions of pain and suffering

Back in her room, Uzi spins her chair around, a satisfied chuckle escaping her as N and V begin to stir. It worked. She actually got their memories back.

V, always the quickest to act, barely takes a second before her hand snaps into a chainsaw, the jagged edge revving to life as she growls. "What the hell, Uzi?! What gives you the right to snoop through our heads?"

She stops mid-threat, her optics flicking to the side. Uzi follows her gaze and freezes. Techie is still wired into the computer, slumped in the chair, motionless. Dimmed optics flicker with scrolling text.

ADMINISTRATOR LOCKOUT: SUCCESSFULBEGINNING DISK CLEANUP|||||________________________________ 7%

Uzi’s stomach drops. No. No, no, no. This shouldn’t be possible, Techie should have woken up, just like N and V.

Unless...

No. That’s impossible. The only way anyone could be locked inside like this is if… they were inside their own memory simulation as well.

Her breath hitches. That human—the one N called Techie. There’s no way, right?

She snaps her head toward N and V. “Explain. Now. Who the hell was that technician?”

N shifts as his newfound memories resurface, "I know! That technician was—"

“An old friend,” V interrupts, her voice unusually subdued. Her optics don’t meet Uzi’s. "From before... everything happened."

V exhales sharply, glancing at Techie's lifeless form. "I wasn’t sure at first, but as I’ve spent time with them, I realized... That drone sitting in front of us? That’s that human."

Uzi’s eyes widen as V’s words sink in. Her voice rises into a near-shout. “And you didn’t think to mention that before I sent them into a memoryscape with that eldritch freakshow?!”

V doesn’t hesitate. Her chainsaw revs louder, the jagged blade stopping just short of Uzi’s throat. “Oh, I don’t know,” she growls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because you ambushed us and jammed yourself into our heads before I had the chance?”

Uzi swallows hard, glaring at V even as she leans back slightly from the weapon. “Fine. You make a good point.”

“Damn right, I do.” V lowers her weapon, but her glare remains sharp. “Now fix it.”

Not needing to be told twice, Uzi spins back to her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as she desperately tries to regain control. Code floods the screen, scrolling too fast for her to process.

“Come on, come on…” she mutters, sweat beading on her forehead. Every second that bar inches forward, Techie’s chances of waking up shrink.

She grits her teeth and keeps typing. She has to fix this.

Light floods your vision. The sterile hum of fluorescent lights buzzes faintly overhead, and the scent of hot metal and solder fills your nose.

A workbench stretches out in front of you, scattered with tools, wires, and diagnostic equipment. Right. Your final exam—robotics training. You’ve spent weeks preparing for this, and now you’re almost done.

The test was simple in theory: repair a malfunctioning worker drone suffering from an assortment of mechanical and software issues. Simple. But under pressure? Not so much.

You tighten the last screw into place, sealing the drone’s back panel before setting the screwdriver down with a shaky breath. This should be it. You double-check the wiring, hoping you’ve done everything right. There’s only one way to find out.

Your finger hovers over the power button for a split second before pressing down.

The drone’s optics flicker to life. A soft whir fills the air as it boots up, standing upright before turning to face you.

“Hello!” it chirps, its voice light and pleasant.

Success.

A grin breaks across your face. You did it.

Your professor strides over, their sharp gaze scanning the drone as they run through a quick diagnostic check. They lift the drone’s arms, test its mobility, and check the interface for any lingering errors. After a moment, they nod in approval.

"Everything seems to be in perfect working order," they say, turning to you with an approving smile. "Excellent job. You pass with flying colors."

Relief washes over you. You exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, nodding in thanks as a few of your classmates glance over. Some are still deep in their own work, muttering under their breath as they struggle with their drones. Others shoot you brief looks—some impressed, others indifferent.

Not wanting to linger, you quietly gather your things. The exam is over for you, and there’s no point in sticking around. You sling your bag over your shoulder and make your way toward the door.

Just as your fingers brush against the handle, a loud clatter echoes through the room.

You turn on instinct. One of your classmates has just powered their drone on, and while it seems to function for the most part, something is clearly wrong. Its speech module is glitching, causing it to stutter and garble its words in a mess of static and half-formed syllables.

The student groans in frustration, their expression twisting into anger. "Ugh, stupid thing—"

Before anyone can stop them, they shove the drone off the table.

It crashes to the floor with a sickening crunch.

Without thinking, you rush over, grabbing the student by the arm and spinning them around. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" you snap, anger flaring in your chest. "You can’t just treat them like that!"

The student sneers at you, yanking their arm free. "Calm down. It’s just a hunk of metal," they scoff, rolling their eyes. "Besides, what do you care? You act like they’re people or something."

You clench your fists, heart pounding.

They laugh, shaking their head before shooting you a look of disgust.

"You really are a freak."

That phrase echoes in your mind as everything around you fades away—"You really are a freak."

Over and over again, through the black void.

You open your eyes, the soft sheets of your bed comforting as the morning sun peeks through the curtains. Today’s the day—you’ll be heading out of town for your new job. Some technician gig for a rich family out in the swamp. You’ve been looking for something like this for months, and the offer came out of nowhere, just like that! You didn’t even apply for anything—just created a profile through the JCJenson website, but you hadn’t had a chance to actually browse any listings.

You guess someone’s looking out for you after all.

Rising from bed, you stretch, shaking off the last remnants of sleep before turning your attention to packing. You double-check your suitcase, making sure you haven’t left anything important behind. Clothes, tools, personal items—it’s all here. Just as you’re about to close it, something small and round slips out from between your neatly folded shirts, rolling across the wooden floor with a soft clink.

You bend down, reaching for it. A small, smoky blue gemstone rests against the floorboards, catching the morning light. You pick it up, running your thumb over the smooth surface.

You’ve had this stone since you were a kid. It doesn’t hold any deep sentimental value—not really. You don’t even remember where you got it. But for some reason, you’ve always kept it close. A good luck charm, maybe. You can’t imagine ever parting with it.

You slip it back into your pocket, sighing in relief before zipping up your suitcase. Time to go.

You pick up your suitcase, gripping the handle tightly as you take a deep breath. It’s time.

With a steadying exhale, you step forward and open the door.

Only to find… nothing.

The hallway outside your room is gone, replaced by an endless, yawning void. Before you can react, the ground beneath you vanishes, and you plummet into the vast nothingness, the weightless sensation sending your stomach into your throat. You try to scream, but no sound escapes. Darkness swallows you whole.

You’re late.

You slept in.

Late for your first day of work at the Elliott’s.

How is this possible??

You throw the covers off and scramble out of bed, heart pounding as you yank on your clothes in a panic. Of all the ways to start this job, this is the worst. You barely have time to double-check yourself in the mirror before bolting out of your small basement room and up the stairs—

SMACK.

You collide with someone and nearly fall over, barely managing to steady yourself as they hit the ground.

A maid drone.

“Oh, crap, I’m so sorry—!” You quickly reach down and help her up, eyes wide with guilt. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, I—”

She dusts herself off, looking a little flustered but otherwise fine. “Oh, um, no, it’s okay! I-I was actually coming to wake you up.”

Wait.

You blink at her, confusion momentarily replacing your panic.

“My shift starts in—” You check your watch, only for your stomach to drop as you realize your mistake.

You read the time wrong.

You aren’t late.

Your face burns with embarrassment as you run a hand through your hair, letting out a breathless laugh. “Oh. Wow. Uh, sorry about that. Guess I freaked out over nothing.”

The maid drone giggles softly, her posture still a little stiff. “It’s alright. I was kind of worried you’d sleep through your alarm. I was the first one you met yesterday, remember? My name’s V.”

You pause.

Something about that name stirs something deep in your mind, like an old song you can’t quite remember the lyrics to. It lingers on the tip of your tongue, just out of reach.

But then V smiles at you—timid, polite, a little awkward.

And the strange feeling slips away.

You smile at her. “That’s really considerate of you, especially since we only just met.”

V’s posture stiffens slightly, her eyes flickering as she glances away. “Oh, um… it’s not a big deal or anything.” She fidgets, adjusting her maid uniform. “I mean, if you’re late, it affects the rest of us, too. It’s just in our best interest to check up on each other.”

You chuckle. “Still, I appreciate it. Really.”

Her gaze flickers back to you, uncertainty melting into something softer. “...Well, you’re welcome, then.”

You nod, adjusting your clothes. “I’m looking forward to working with you and everyone else.”

V’s lips twitch into a small smile. “I’d be happy to show you around, introduce you to the others.”

“That’d be great.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you take a step forward—

—but the world around you begins to melt.

Colors blur, shapes distort, the floor beneath your feet ceases to exist.

You don’t even have time to react before the memory crumbles away entirely.

You walk over and take the clipboard from V, scanning the list. It was surprisingly thorough—she’d noted everything from loose doorknobs to fading paint along the baseboards.

You smile at her, “I really appreciate your help with all of this, V. I don’t think I could get through it without you.”

She stiffens, her fingers twitching as she looks away. “I-it’s no problem, I don’t mind. Really.”

You chuckle and, on impulse, pat her head.

Error: Unexpected Affection Detected.

You show V how to make pancakes, guiding her as she stirs the batter. She nods eagerly, then accidentally mixes too fast—sending batter flying across the kitchen. Some splatters onto both of you. There’s a moment of stunned silence before you burst out laughing, V quickly following suit.

“Not too fast,” you place your hand lightly over hers to help steady her grip. “You don’t want to splash it everywhere.”

She freezes at the contact for a moment, her optics brightening slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. “Got it,” she murmurs.

The two of you sit side by side in front of a large window, gazing out at the endless night sky. The soft ambience of the mansion fills the silence, the glow of the stars reflecting in her optics. Your shoulders brush, and static electricity crackles between you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” you murmur.

V glances at you, her expression unreadable—until a faint blush dusts her face.

“It is,” she says softly.

You lie in bed, your fingers intertwined with V’s as she reads to you. Her voice is steady, soothing, filling the quiet room with a warmth you can’t quite describe. The world outside doesn’t matter. Here, in this moment, you feel safe.

Warmth pools in your chest, unfamiliar yet comforting. Is this… love?

And then, just like everything else, these memories fade away.

You open your eyes as pain wracks your body. Agony is all you can fathom. Your gaze darts around the room, but you can’t move. You’re strapped to some kind of table, hooked up to a mess of wires and devices. The room around you is dimly lit, a run-down laboratory, cold and unfamiliar. You can’t even begin to question where you are—the pain is overwhelming, searing through every nerve like fire. It’s worse than anything you’ve ever experienced.

You force yourself to look down, instantly regretting it. A gaping wound mars your chest, torn open where that eldritch beast’s tendril had impaled you. The sight alone makes your head spin. How are you still alive? No—why are you still alive? Every attempted breath sends agony lancing through what remains of your ribs, and you open your mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.

Then, the door creaks open.

Your stomach drops as Cyn steps inside. She’s in her worker drone form, as if mocking you with her small, unassuming frame—like she hadn’t just torn your world apart. She tilts her head, smiling as she watches you struggle. “Cordial greeting. I see you are awake. Perhaps human medical technology isn’t useless after all.”

Something shifts behind her. Your eyes widen in horror as a slick, black tendril slithers from her back, lazily extending toward a console beside you. It presses a few buttons with unsettling precision, making the monitors flicker. Another tendril whips off to the side, dragging a gurney into view, carrying a powered-off worker drone, its lifeless body still on the cold metal cart.

Wires snake out from the machinery beside you, latching onto the drone like some grotesque experiment. You can only watch in silent agony, unable to move, unable to voice the fear clawing at your throat. Cyn steps closer, her neon-yellow optics gleaming with sick delight as one of her tendrils picks up a thick cable. At the end of it is a long, wickedly sharp needle.

She holds it up, almost playfully, before leaning in.

“Hold still. I do believe this has never been attempted, until now. Giggle.”

You try to resist, but some unseen force clamps down on you, stopping even the slightest movement of your head. Your body betrays you, locked in place as panic claws at your mind. You can only watch, helpless, as the tendril moves the needle behind your skull—out of sight, but not out of mind.

Cyn tilts her head, watching you with amusement. “Don’t worry. I am not finished with you. And you won’t remember any of this. Well, hopefully.” She lets out a small giggle, her gaze gleaming like a predator playing with its food. “Human minds are so much more fickle than drones.”

You barely have time to process her words before searing agony erupts through your skull. The needle drives deep, and a sensation like a lightning strike surges through your entire body. Every nerve ignites, every fiber of your being screams in protest as darkness swallows your vision. But the nightmare doesn’t end there.

Because while you may no longer see, you can still feel.

Pain unlike anything imaginable overtakes you as something indescribable is wrenched from your very core. Your mind—your self—is being torn away from the brain that has been yours since the moment you came into existence. You are being ripped from your own body. Thought ceases, coherence shatters, and all that remains is raw, unbearable agony.

And then, just as suddenly as it began—everything stops.

ADMINISTRATOR LOCKOUT: SUCCESSFULBEGINNING DISK CLEANUP||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||__ 94%

Uzi’s fingers fly across the keyboard, desperation fueling her rapid inputs as she fights against the process. Lines of code blur together as she forces command after command, trying anything to halt the inevitable. But the counter ticks up to 95%, unfazed by her efforts.

V’s patience shatters. She steps forward, optics burning with frustration. “That’s it. Send me in. Like you did with us.”

Uzi doesn’t even look up, still typing. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“I don’t care.”

“If you’re still inside when the process finishes, you’ll be erased too.” Uzi’s voice is sharp, but there’s a flicker of hesitation beneath it. “And as great as that might be,” she adds with biting sarcasm, “something tells me N won’t like that.”

V’s claws shoot out in a blur, stopping just short of Uzi’s throat. Her optics bore into the worker drone’s, raw with something Uzi doesn’t expect—desperation. “Let me try.”

For once, Uzi is speechless. She stares at V, weighing the risk, the sheer insanity of what she’s about to allow.

She exhales sharply and yanks a cable from the terminal, holding it out. “Fine. Plug yourself in.”

You sit in the void of your memories, a vast and endless darkness stretching infinitely around you. Faint echoes of experiences drift at the edges of your perception—things you know you've lived through, but they remain just out of reach, impossible to grasp. It’s all slipping away, unraveling like loose threads in a tapestry you can’t seem to hold together.

You blink, text appearing in your field of view once again:

A-S Backup Process Enabled.

Purging Incriminating Data

A soft giggle cuts through the silence.

Cyn stands before you, a cruel smile curling her lips as she takes in your broken state. You stare up at her, defeated. There’s nothing left to fight for. Nothing left at all.

She snaps her fingers.

V appears beside her—tall, imposing, her claws gleaming under an unseen light. Her fanged grin is sharp and cold, lacking any warmth.

“A shame my experiment failed,” Cyn muses, tilting her head. “You were quite intriguing to watch.”

V’s claws extend with a metallic shink, her optics narrowing as she sizes you up.

Cyn continues, her voice chillingly indifferent. “I pitied V enough to give you a chance, to be a tool for me just like her, but it’s clear you belong with everyone else—as part of me, the Solver of the Absolute Fabric.”

V lunges.

Her claws clamp around your throat, pinning you to the ground as she looms over you, fangs bared. You don’t fight. You don’t struggle. You don’t even flinch. You’re done.

But then—

V hesitates.

The pressure around your neck loosens. Instead of tearing into you, she lets go, pulling you back to your feet. Her claws retract as she gazes into your eyes, something unreadable flickering across her face.

“As fun as it would be to kill you,” she drawls, smirking, “I think that’d be rather anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

You blink. Confusion stirs in the emptiness of your mind. “What…? Why aren’t you—”

V groans, rubbing her temple. “You’ll get it in a minute.”

Without warning, she raises her arm, her hand shifting into a gun. She fires.

Cyn shatters in a burst of pixels.

Before you can even react, V grabs you by the shoulders, her expression urgent. “Listen to me—you need to snap out of it.”

You stare at her, the weight of her words not quite sinking in.

“You’re inside your own head,” she presses on. “Cyn’s rewriting you. She’s trying to make you forget everything.”

You try to respond, to ask her what she means, but she shakes her head. “No time for that.” Her grip tightens. “You have to remember. Remember me. Remember Uzi. Remember what’s happening in the real world!”

The void trembles. Cracks split through the darkness, revealing blinding white light beneath. The world around you begins to shatter, pixel by pixel.

V’s optics widen in alarm. “No, no, no—stay with me!”

Panicked, she grabs you by the arms and yanks you into a hug, holding you tight. “Come on,” she pleads, her voice almost breaking. “You have to remember—”

The pixels overtake you both.

V gasps as she is suddenly yanked from the simulation, the world around her dissolving into nothing. She flips around, fury already building in her chest—only to see N standing there, holding the cable that had connected her.

Her optics widen in horror. “What did you do?” she screams, her voice raw with disbelief.

She spins back toward Techie, still slumped in their chair, their optics flickering with a new message.

ADMINISTRATOR LOCKOUT: SUCCESSFULDISK CLEANUP COMPLETE||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 100%

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Uzi stares at the screen, then at Techie’s motionless form. Her shoulders tremble, her expression caught between disbelief and devastation. She failed.

N shifts, gripping the cable tightly as if he can somehow undo what he just did. “V, I—I couldn’t let you get erased too,” he stammers, barely above a whisper. “Losing both of you would just be… too much.”

V barely hears him. She is already at Techie’s side, dropping to her knees as the weight of it all crashes down. Her fingers dig into their arms as she shakes them, harder and harder, desperation creeping into her voice. “I can’t do this,” she chokes out. “Not again. Not again!”

And then, Techie’s system reboots.

Their optics flicker, the dull glow returning as their head tilts slightly.

“Hello,” they say, their voice eerily neutral. “Are you my new coworkers?”

Silence.

Uzi and N don’t move. V can only stare.

Because she knows. They all know.

Techie is gone. Completely erased.

V sits back, her arms falling limply to her sides as she gazes at the drone before her—not them, just an empty shell, stripped of everything that made them Techie. All that remains is the default programming of a Worker Drone.

How ironic.

All the destruction she has wrought, all the pain she has caused—and this is how the universe chooses to punish her. Not with fire, not with death, but with loss. Loss of something she only just got back.

N had forgotten his past. But she never had. She remembered everything. She knows exactly what she has done. And yet…

Here she is.

With a slow, weary exhale, she rises to her feet.

She takes one last look at the drone sitting before her, their optics scanning the room in vague curiosity.

What’s the point in fighting anymore? Cyn will win. She always wins.

She reaches out, her hand trembling as she places it against their cheek. A tiny crackle of static sparks between them.

The moment their metal touches, Techie’s visor glitches, their entire body shuddering violently.

V steps back in shock as the drone collapses, crashing to the floor in a twitching heap.

Even in her last act of comfort, she’s managed to kill something. How tragically ironic.

Your optics flutter open as your systems jolt back to life, rebooting in a rush of energy. The world around you sharpens into focus, bright and overwhelming, as everything comes flooding back at once. It’s disorienting—the sheer weight of your memories crashing over you like a tidal wave. You try to sit up, your joints stiff and unresponsive at first, but you push through the discomfort. Blinking rapidly, you take in your surroundings.

Uzi and N are standing in front of you, their expressions twisted in confusion, eyes locked onto you as if they’re unsure whether to believe what they’re seeing. You glance past them, spotting V in the corner of the room. She isn’t looking at you. Instead, she stares off into space, her posture stiff, her face unreadable.

You turn back to Uzi, your voice hoarse and unsteady as you manage to speak. “Uzi? What… what the hell did you do to me?”

The reaction is immediate. Uzi’s eyes go wide, her whole body tensing. She sucks in a sharp breath, realization dawning in an instant—you remember her. Her shock is evident, but before she can respond, something else happens.

V moves.

Before you can react, she is suddenly in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and lifting you off the ground. The intensity in her yellow optics burns into you as she stares, searching your face with a desperate kind of urgency. “Techie?!” Her voice is sharp, demanding, almost frantic. She scans your expression as if looking for a glitch, for some kind of mistake.

Your body tenses at the sudden force, and you struggle slightly in her grip, groaning in protest. “Yes! It’s me! Please put me down.”

For once, she listens. She sets you down on your feet, a significant improvement over her usual habit of just dropping you. Your legs feel unsteady, but you manage to stay upright, adjusting to the sensation of simply being again.

V wastes no time. “Do you remember everything?” she asks, and something in her tone makes your systems freeze for a second.

Everything.

The word echoes in your mind, and suddenly, it all hits.

Your life—your entire life—rushes back to you in an instant, slamming into your consciousness with the force of a collapsing building. It’s overwhelming, the sheer amount of it, so much that it feels like your head might split open from the sheer pressure. Your time as a drone, your time as a human, all of it returns in a flood, every emotion, every experience, every loss, every joy. The weight of an entire existence, something you hadn’t even fathomed regaining, comes crashing down with relentless intensity.

You stagger slightly, your fingers twitching as you try to process the sudden influx of knowledge. It’s too much all at once, the past and present colliding in a way that makes your head spin. Every moment, every decision, every version of yourself that you thought was lost—it’s all here. You’re here.

And you have no idea what to do with it.

Your voice catches in your throat, your entire system struggling to process the sheer weight of what’s just returned to you. You force out a breath, trying to steady yourself, but even that feels like too much. "I... I remember..." The words are shaky, barely more than a whisper. "I remember everything..."

Your optics flicker slightly as a name slips from your mouth. "Cyn..."

At that, Uzi's entire posture shifts. Her expression tightens, and a look of realization flashes across her face. It’s like she had momentarily forgotten why any of this was happening—why they had gone through all of this in the first place. But now, with that single name spoken aloud, it all comes rushing back.

"Nope," Uzi says, cutting off whatever breakdown you’re about to have. "We’re putting the 'my entire life is a lie' crisis on hold. We need to leave. Now."

You barely have time to react before a glow ignites around her hand. That same energy surges outward, wrapping around you before you can so much as blink. The room distorts, reality twisting and folding in on itself, the world around you shattering like a fractured mirror. The force nearly knocks you off your feet as everything warps.

Then—nothing.

Except cold.

Your optics adjust to the sudden change in lighting, and you realize you’re no longer inside. The facility, the walls, the floor—all of it is gone. Instead, you're standing outside, the frozen wasteland of Copper-9 stretching out in every direction. Ice crunches beneath your feet, the wind biting against your frame. The brutal cold is nothing new, but the suddenness of it leaves you reeling.

You barely have time to process what just happened before you see them.

Standing in front of you, unmistakable even through the swirling snow, is Doll. Next to her is J—her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. And beside them...

A woman.

You don’t recognize her. She’s clad in a space suit, her helmet obscuring most of her features, but there’s no doubt about it, she’s human.

Your mind races, trying to grasp onto something—anything—that could make sense of this. Your eyes dart to the nametag on her chest.

Tessa.

What the actual hell is happening?

#murder drones #murder drones x reader #murder drones fanfic #murder drones headcanon #murder drones v x reader #murder drones v #serial designation v

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diceramblesaboutocs · 11 months ago

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Undirected Connection || Idia x Reader || Prologue

chapter 1 Author’s note: This is more of a premise or prologue. I haven’t ever really posted any of my writing officially and I wanted to do something light first. So I hope to give this more “chapters”. I want this to be more soft and friendship oriented but hey, we will see where it goes. Also the mandatory: English isn't my native language so...

Rating: Teen Pairing: Idia/Reader Words: 905 Tags: GenderNeutral Reader - Reader is from Ignihyde - Cat and mouse chase dynamic.

Summary: "Dear students of NRC, Ever wanted your favorite actress or actor to wish you good night? Do you need a little encouragement for the finals? Or maybe you want them to say those sweet "well, well, well"s with their seductive voice to spice up your evening?

I, Litae, will humbly grant your prayer and wishes. Give me your desired voice (an actor, a character (must be a public figure)) and guidelines what would you want them to say only to you

2 thaumarks, a personal greeting for you

5 thaumarks, 30s clip.

NO NSFW content.

Payment will be handled via the Cave of Wonders app."

"You can do it, Idia! You'll be fine! Good night and sleep well tonight!"

The familiar voice of Idia's favorite idol echoed in the dim room as the call ended. This has been going on for a month now. Azul had cornered him in the board game clubroom after the session. He started to offer the most ridiculous things for Idia so that he would help him locate some mysterious entrepreneur. This entrepreneur known as Litae had taken the NRC campus by storm in just a week. And the Octavinelle housewarden smelled an opportunity for a great investment in that. A promise of financial gain.

Idia first had offered to create a voice generation software for him, but Azul declined. He wanted the real deal. Why create a rival when you can blackmail the original creator to join his team. Or as the merman had put it: Offer a safe working environment and stable income. Idia wanted to escape the situation, but seemed that the only way to do that was to agree to help his clubmate.

He started his research. It started from small testing, paying this Litae to give him a greeting or a small clip. To see if he could use a voice recognition software to find patterns, a recurring pitch or to see if the voice was generated by a computer. All coming back almost negative. There were some small recurring patterns, but not enough to pinpoint anyone exactly. And the voice wasn't AI generated either. Or if it was, it was a highly sophisticated model.

He asked Litae to voice different actors. Then fictional characters and lastly… one of his favorite characters from Sled over Heels. Why not indulge himself a bit? To have a high quality personalized greeting from his favorite character would make his heart flutter. And it did. A little bit of greetings there and a little bit of encouragement here. Like before the public speech he had at the cultural fair. (Not that he was going to speak in public, he made a high end text to speech software to avoid that.)

Then came the calls. Litae started offering short calls, improvised calls for the students. For Idia, it was downhill from there… He was addicted. ***

2 months ago

It all started when it was announced that the Star Rogue: Remake Galaxy would be exclusive on the newly launched Wonderlink console. [Y/N] had been a long time fan of the game series and finally it was getting the recognition that it deserved. But there was a problem… A financial one. They could buy the game, sure, but they didn't have the console. They needed a plan on how to get money. Something easy. Something so low effort that they could do it while keeping up with their studies.

A couple of days had passed. During a break they had a conversation with their fellow dormmates about the wake up call tracks. They remembered those from old radio shows. The voice actors acted as their characters and recorded a set of different versions of wake up notifications. People ate them all up, trying to get hold of those radio show tracks. They would dissect the lines and share them online. And that's where the idea began in [Y/N]'s head.

Like a strike of fate, it was perfect. Outer appearance of [Y/N] was that of a normal human, but they had the blood of a changeling fae in them. It wasn't much, but enough. The influence from a few generations past would act up sometimes. Whenever magic was flowing strong around them, their appearance changed randomly if not deliberately focused on anything. They had a special medication for it. That they didn't give themselves gills without thinking and suffocated. That was a rare thing to begin with but better safe than sorry. After all, in a magic school with all the students blasting spells, it could get hectic. Stronger the magic, the bigger the change could be.

On its own it was more of a parlor trick, to change one's hair color, or transform their teeth sharp… Or change their voice. They researched the best way to handle the transfer of money and got an old smartphone from the lost and found. Being an Ignihyde student, they knew the lengths to which the digital footprint could be tracked. They couldn't be too cautious. They didn't want others to know about this idea, about them doing it or that they had such a gift from their ancestors. Who would trust a descendant of a changeling after all?

After two weeks of planning, the plan went into motion. They made a separate email account on their "work" phone and sent an advert to the whole student body of NRC. ***

"Dear students of NRC,

Ever wanted your favorite actress or actor to wish you good night?

Do you need a little encouragement for the finals? Or maybe you want them to say those sweet "well, well, well"s with their seductive voice to spice up your evening?

I, Litae, will humbly grant your prayer and wishes.

Give me your desired voice (an actor, a character (must be a public figure)) and guidelines what would you want them to say only to you

2 thaumarks, a personal greeting for you

5 thaumarks, 30s clip.

NO NSFW content.

Payment will be handled via the Cave of Wonders app."

#disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #idia shroud #idia x shroud #fanfic #twst idia #twisted wonderland idia

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fanhackers · 1 year ago

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Anne Kustritz’s Identity, Community, and Sexuality in Slash Fan Fiction

Anne Kustritz’s new book, Identity, Community, and Sexuality in Slash Fan Fiction: Pocket Publics has just been released by Routledge (2024). You might know Kustritz, a scholar of fan cultures and transmedia storytelling, from her early essay “Slashing the Romance Narrative,” in the Journal of American Culture (2003) or maybe from some of her more recent work on transmedia and serial storytelling. But this new book is an exciting addition to the fan studies canon, and Fanhackers readers might be particularly interested, because the book “explores slash fan fiction communities during the pivotal years of the late 1990s and the early 2000s as the practice transitioned from print to digital circulation,”--which is the era that a lot of the fans involved in the creation of the OTW came from. As I noted in my book blurb, “While there has been an explosion of fan studies scholarship in the last two decades, we haven't had an ethnography of fan fiction communities since the early 1990s. Kustritz's Pocket Publics rectifies that, documenting the generation of slash fans who built much of fandom's infrastructure and many of its community spaces, both on and off the internet. This generation has had an outsized impact on contemporary fan cultures, and Kustritz shows how these fans created an alternative and subcultural public sphere: a world of their own.”

Kustritz doesn’t just analyze and contextualize fandom, she also describes her own experiences as a participant-observer, and these might resonate with a lot of fans (especially Fanhackers-reading fans!) Early on in the book, Kustritz describes her how her own early interest in fandom blurred between the personal and the academic:

Because I began studying slash only a year after discovering fandom on-line, my interest has always been an intricate tangle of pleasure in the texts themselves, connection to brilliantly creative women, and fascination with intersections between fan activities and academic theory. I may now disclaim my academic identity as an interdisciplinary scholar with concentrations in media anthropology and cultural studies and begin to pinpoint my fan identity as a bifictional multifandom media fan; however, I only gradually became aware of and personally invested in these categories as I grew into them. This section defines the scope of the online observation period that preceded the active interview phase of this research. In so doing it also examines the messy interconnections between my academic and fannish interests and identities. Trying to pick apart what portion of my choices derived from fannish pleasure and which from academic interest helps to identify the basic internal tensions and categories that slash fan fiction communities relied upon to define themselves, the pressures exerted upon these systems by the digital migration, and complications in academic translation of fannish social structures.

Later in the book, Kustritz discusses how fans have organized and advocated for themselves as a public; in particular, there’s a fascinating chapter about the ways in which fandom has adopted and transformed the figure of the pirate to forge new ways of thinking about copyright and authorship. If the OTW was formed to argue that making fanworks is a legitimate activity, the figure of the pirate signifies a protest against the law and a refusal to be shamed by it:

[F]ans also use the figure of the pirate to make arguments that validate some fan activities and consign others to illegitimacy. At the urging of several friends involved with slash, I attended my first non-slash focused science fiction and fantasy convention in the summer of 2004. The program schedule announced a Sunday morning panel discussion provocatively titled “Avast, Matey: The Ethics of Pirating Movies, Music, and Software” with the subheading “Computers today can distribute [more] intellectual property than ever before--not always legally. Is it ever okay to copy, download, and/or distribute media? Sorry, ladies, none of us will be dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.” The panel’s subheading, which obliquely warned away both lusty women and pirates, led a small contingent of slash fans to shake off Saturday night’s convention revelries unreasonably early and implement a plan of their own for Sunday’s panel. As many fan conventions encourage costumes, known as “cosplay,” one of my friends and research participants happened to have been dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow of Pirates of the Caribbean that weekend, so I entered the piracy panel with Captain Jack and a motley crew of slashers, some of them intent upon commandeering the discussion.

The clash that followed exemplifies a structural fault line between various types of fan communities regarding their shared norms and beliefs about copyright law, the relationship between fans and producers, and appropriate fan behavior.

If you want to find out how this clash played out–well, you’ll just have to read the book. 😀

–Francesca Coppa, Fanhackers volunteer

#fanhackers #author:francescacoppa #anne kustritz #early digital fandom #slash #piracy #fannish culture clashes

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random-non-shower-thoughts · 5 months ago

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Write with your heart, edit with your inner critic and ears

My last two post have been more from the heart, but I think more people need actual editing advice like I have talked about in a previous thought post. Like I said there, plenty of teachers and professors have no issues talking about writing and formulating and drafting works. I only know of one professor over all my years of writing that I can recall with 99% certainty that taught us useful tips for editing.

And I will say that like writing, there's no one size fits all, because nobody writes the same as anyone else--or even themselves as they hone and improve their skills. A lot should be based on what vibe you want to create and what is needed for the work/chapter/draft you are focusing on.

But if nothing else, there's three things you want to focus on:

Spelling and punctuation as fitting for the message you want to convey

Formatting to make it readable and to improve the message

And most importantly: READING THE WORK ALOUD BEFORE PUBLISHING

The last one is what I don't see talked about enough, and was reminded by a community post recommended for me (I will never follow them, they're impossible to share and most seem like a waste of time), so I decided to expand on it in a more shareable format.

(Note: I believe that doing this with your own voice or text to speech are equally helpful. Sometimes you want to go at your own pace and use voices. Maybe you have to have another voice to notice things. Both work to reach the same goal of polishing your writing!)

I am going start by saying that there's times when you can tell a piece could have used an extra pass by how it reads. There's often weird turn of phrases and spelling that is not obtrusive but makes you pause (and I will be the first to say I want readers to tell me if they catch these for whatever reason, even the less error prone machine still lets flecks of misspellings and pebbles of forgotten commas). The missing period that makes two sentences become a long run-on sentence that technically makes sense.

The editing is on the surface sufficient, but missing a last pass that could buff out a final draft and have you read it later when more experienced with pride. And without asking why you forgot something so obvious, or why you worded it that way. (I love looking at outstanding line from old works, I often laugh at how even my spicy stuff can have a raw scene outside of the bedroom).

One of the best ways I found, after formatting and spellchecking and double-checking the right words are used, is to give it a final read out loud! Yes, I can understand that you might ask why it has to be out loud when you already went over it so many times, and the editing software and you not say it's fine. And that's exactly why. Things that a computer might say is good might not be the right wording for the story. You might have changed something to get the sentence to make sense but it ruined the actual mood, or you added something that is out of character. An extra adjective you thought worked didn't actually fit and you forgot to hit delete. There's so many times I have changed something because I wasn't satisfied with the flow and just didn't backspace enough during a much earlier draft and it slipped through till the final pass while I read it aloud.

Or--and this is a big one for me--reading it out loud made me realize that it won't work at all. Not due to anything technical or because the section makes no sense. Just something about having it spoken out loud awakens my inner critic to an issue I didn't notice until now. A whole paragraph might finally show it can be cut and make a transition easier. A sentence might be deleted because it was more distracting fluff and I see it should be deleted (no matter how nice it worked in my head). Or if not gone, it was in the wrong spot. Now I have to read it out loud, word by word, I can paste a section in a better place and change the whole flow.

I've seen people talk about how they use text to speech to see if something goes on for too long and know when to stop by how it starts to distort it's voice to keep going. You can do the same too.

By reading aloud, you'll at last understand the readers' plight of flowery purple prose by struggling to catch your breath. Suffer while the TTS malfunctions from you using too many adjectives about the MC in the mirror. See if maybe you can change that comma or em dash into a period or semicolon. Play with different voices and see if that fanfic about your favorite character sounds OOC or you are really that good at getting inside their head. See how the words fit as you get a fresh perspective, watching them fall into place like puzzle pieces while observing how each flows like a poetic melody.

It is all experience for when you write that next chapter or work. Sure, it's not as intense as typing it all out, but it's not like you're not learning from it. Editing is writing too; what you master here can translate to better writing next time, and a cleaner first draft in the future. (Like I've said before, you'll never have a perfect first draft, but you can write a clean first draft to make it easier for yourself.)

Just remember, writing is supposed to be as good as you are today, and never a suffering contest. Not every aspect of it will be exciting but do not force yourself to make it more difficult than you can handle. If I am miserable, I am not creative, and this is true for so many; and if anyone tells you that makes someone a fake/poser/imposter, ignore them. If they like being sad to write a depressed and angsty character, that is their method alone. Editing does not have to be a slog, but it should be something you put effort in to so the final product is something you are proud of.

Listen to the fun writing voice when you are outlining and writing, and unleash the inner critic when you edit. Both are there for a reason.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing advice #writing tips #editing tips #inner critic #The inner critic is good for editing #Do not trust the inner critic for writing #It wants to twist words not play like your writing brain

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witchygagirlwrites · 7 months ago

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Back to You-Pt. 1/3

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz X Reader

When Hank tells you he's hiring a new Tech expert the same week Mouse is due back stateside you never think to make the connection until he's standing in front of you and you're faced with every emotion you tried to bury for two years.

Warnings: I think maybe just some cursing?!

When your alarm went off you reached blindly for the button on top that would get you relief from the shrill noise. When you finally smacked it you pushed yourself into a seated position in the bed and reached for your phone that had an alert flashing on it and groaned to see it was a text from Jay that read He's coming home this week. He wants to see you. You shook your head and threw the phone behind you onto the bed. You couldn't deal with that. It'd been almost two years and the subject still hurt.

You glanced up at the dog tags hanging from the mirror on top of your dresser. The light streaming in the window reflected off the metal surface as if the entire world was meaning to drag your heart through the dirt. You brushed off the dreary feeling and kicked the blankets off your leg. A nice hot shower and some coffee was all you needed to feel human again.

When you walked into the precinct Trudy smiled at you from behind the desk, that smile growing when you held out one of the cups of coffee to her "Morning Trudy" "Morning sweetheart" She said with a nod as you headed up the steps towards intelligence. The fog you'd felt that morning was slowly beginning to lift. If you could dive head first into a case well that would be all the better.

---------

"What? No coffee for us?" Adam asked with a mock expression of hurt when you sat a cup down on Kim's then Erin's desk and stuck your tongue out at him "You see Ruz us ladies have to stick together." Hank shook his head with a laugh from where he stood talking to Jay and Al. "When you're through passing out coffee and busting Ruzek's balls I need to speak with you for a minute"

"Yes sir" you replied trying to remember if you'd done anything worth being yelled at for. He tilted his head towards his office so you followed him curious as to just what was going on.

----

"Have a seat" he said motioning to the chairs in front of his desk so you sat down. He walked around to sit in his chair, eyes never leaving you. "We're getting another tech expert in here soon" Oh so that's what this was about. Did he feel like you would say something against the new person in that slot?

"Sounds good to me. No offense to any of the team but we all sorta suck at that end. I mean I'm decent and I still suck compared to the skills we really need"

You were trying to make a joke and actually got rewarded with a half smile from Hank. "Good, I'm glad you feel like that. Thing is we don't exactly know when they're gonna start so I need you to install the new software that was sent over for the tech room downstairs" "Why me?" You asked suddenly wishing you had never picked up anything about computers.

He shrugged and said "Well out of all of us here you picked up the most skills. It's simple stuff really but anyone else I'm afraid they'd crash the entire system"

You weren't going to argue with him so you nodded "Yes sir. I'll go get started now so if we happen to have a case pop up later" You stood to walk out but stopped when Hank added "Thank you. I mean I know you don't have that detective shield for shit like this but it helps"

You smiled and said "Don't mention it boss. I get my hands plenty dirty in the field. Why not put some tech work under my belt?" Then walked out to head down to the tech room.

----------

You walked into the room and felt a chill run through you and suddenly wished you'd brought your jacket downstairs. The equipment in here had to stay a certain temp and it used to not bother you but now? It felt like a frickin ice box.

You sent Kim a text begging for more coffee and your jacket before picking up a new laptop that was still in the box and looking over the manuals that were with it. "Well let's see how much actually sunk in" You muttered to nobody in particular as you went to work.

When Jay left around lunch saying he had to run to the airport everyone still in the bullpen spun around to face him "Is Mouse coming home today?" Erin asked, glancing back at the hallway you'd have to come up through. "Yea. She knew it was this week but not today. He's been dying to see her and I really hope Voight isn't going to want him to start until I can ease it onto her" Jay answered as he pulled his jacket on. "Wait, he's the new tech guy?" Kim asked in shock.

"He knows this team and I know he can be trusted" Hank cut in from where he stood at his office door.

Adam let out a low whistle and when everyone looked to him he pointed at your empty desk "Any of you think about the shit storm you're bringing down on her?"

"Yeah! I mean Jay you should've told her and Hank! C'mon man why would you spring something like that on her?" Erin threw in knowing out of everyone she could get away with calling Hank out.

He faced her before saying "She's a strong woman Erin. She can handle it. We need him here to fill the position and she isn't going to argue something for the good of this unit. As for her personal feelings she didn't let what happened affect her on the job and I don't see her letting it now. When and if there is a problem I will handle it"

Jay pointed towards the door "Well I'm gonna go. All of you can curse me once I leave and try to convince Erin to kill me in my sleep" "Such bullshit" Kim muttered to Kevin who nodded in agreement. "I give it two hours before they're either fighting or doing something that shouldn't go down at work. The way the two were about each other, that doesn't disappear" "She was a wreck when he left. I'd put my money more on fight" Adam cut in earning him a glare from Kim. Al stood up from his desk and said "Whatever does or doesn't go down is between them" and that was the end of the conversation.

-----------

You were sitting in the middle of the tech room surrounded by new coms, new cameras,tablets and laptops currently growing a headache. "I hate this shit!" You groaned and heard your phone go off where you had sat it on the desk but at the moment you could've cared less about anything anyone was telling you via text. If you were really needed they'd send someone down after you. Hank had banished you to this tech hell and you would be damned before you headed upstairs in defeat.

Walking up the stairs to the twenty first was a surreal feeling for Mouse. The last time he'd been here you had left in tears after telling him goodbye.

Every day he regretted hurting you the way he had. You had been made to feel like you were forcing him to choose to do what he wanted to with his life or being with you. You'd taken yourself out the equation and his heart still hurt when he remembered your eyes that night. You had still written to him once a month.

It was less personal then if you'd sent a hallmark greeting card but it was at least a sign you were alive and remembered he existed. The letters had stopped the moment he'd told you he had a discharge date. He wasn't stupid. He knew you didn't want to see him but when Voight had offered his job back along with the perks he'd offered he couldn't say no. Even if you hated him he would be able to see you. He was willing to hide in the tech room all day to stay out your way but the truth was more than anything he wanted another chance with you.

Trudy spotted him first and an actual smile perked up her face "Oh my god! Mouse!" He was shocked when she came around the counter to pull him into a hug. "You look good Gerwitz" "Thanks Trudy and I heard congrats are in order. You got married!" He replied smiling when she showed him the ring. "I'm gonna take him up" Jay threw in nodding towards the steps. Trudy's face went blank with horror "Um Jay she's still down in the tech room" "Good thing we're going up first huh?" Jay responded, dragging Mouse up the steps by his arm.

"Guessing she doesn't know I'm coming here today and probably doesn't know about the job?" Mouse pondered as they headed up to the bullpen and groaned when Jay did a so-so motion with his hand "Oh for fuck's sake Jay! You shouldn't have sprung this on her!"

"That's exactly what I said!" Kim spoke up from her desk before standing to hug Mouse "but welcome back still" The overall greeting was welcoming back a family member but there was still a feeling of dread that came along with knowing they were welcoming one and putting another's heart at risk in the process. After Al hugged him he pointed him towards the stairs "Well kid why don't you go down to the tech room and rip the damn bandaid off?"

If there was one thing Mouse was certain would never change, it was Alvin Olinsky. That man called everyone's bullshit.

He headed for the stairs hearing murmurs behind him but focusing on the fact that you were in front of him.

-----------

"Ugh! You stupid son of a bitch I already did that! I think you just don't fucking like me!" Yes you were arguing with a tablet but damn, it had gotten on your nerves.

"Well sweetheart if it doesn't like you it's got really bad taste" You heard a familiar voice say from behind you, causing you to startle as you jumped to face Mouse who was standing in the doorway.

You could feel your brain fuzz out like an old tv as you looked at him. His shoulders were broader than they had been before, biceps straining against the material of his t-shirt with his movements. A layer of scruff covered his jawline and he was about three shades tanner than the last time you'd seen him. The chain of his dog tags sticking out his collar made you subconsciously reach for the chain you hadn't worn in a year, knowing it wasn't at your neck.

When he moved his left arm you could see the hint of a tattoo peeking out his sleeve and knew you probably looked like an idiot sitting there surrounded by equipment and staring at him slack jawed but you couldn't help it.

All the love you felt for him and all the anger you'd buried at how he'd broken your heart washed over you in a crushing wave and it took effort to get your brain started back up. "Greg" you all but whispered and when he smiled had you been standing your knees would've gotten weak "She remembers! Can I get a welcome back?" You mentally slammed the door shut on all the emotions threatnening to spill over and held up the tablet before saying "Welcome back now come fucking help me"

------------

You could feel your hands shaking as Mouse helped you to set up all the new equipment in no time. "Guessing you're the tech person?" You asked, breaking the silence in the room. He glanced up from the laptop he was currently typing on and smiled, something so familiar it made your chest ache "Only if it's ok with you. Voight offered"

"Why wouldn't it be? We split before you left, remember?" You knew you sounded cold but you had to. You couldn't bear to let yourself slip around him or you'd be pulled in. You couldn't let yourself feel everything you wanted because what if you did and then he decided once more it wasn't enough? "How could I ever forget about you telling me you didn't want to be with me anymore?" He asked in a small voice and you felt tears spring to your eyes so you quickly got to your feet "Looks like you've got this. I'm heading up"

Mouse regretted the words the moment he said them. He'd promised himself he'd give you space and time but God being this close to you after so long and not being able to touch you, you barely looking at him. He'd broken your heart he knew that but he hadn't exactly escaped unscathed either.

He called your name when you sprung up to leave but you practically ran from the room. A part of him wanted to run after you but he knew now wasn't the time. This was your job and his now as well. This was also just his first day back in Chicago and Jay hadn't even warned you. He looked back down at the stack of equipment and let out a sigh "Welcome home Gerwitz" he mumbled to the empty room before starting to put everything in its place.

Part 2

#greg mouse gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #greggerwitz x reader

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deathbypixelz · 2 years ago

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Alright. I'm making this post because I was unpleasantly surprised to find Microsoft had forcibly downloaded an """"ai assistant"""" onto my computer (called Copilot), and because finding a site that actually told me how to kill it for good -- in clear, truly step-by-step terms -- was way harder than it needed to be.

Preface: this is only relevant if you're running Windows 11.

Here is your target:

If you see this logo on your taskbar -- or... have Edge installed on Windows 11 -- you've got Copilot. You can't delete it on its own, Microsoft has integrated it into the OS as best they can. The most you can do is disable it (instructions for which are at the very end of this post).

So... to REALLY get rid of it you need to uninstall Microsoft Edge, because it's a part of/reliant on Edge. A lot of bells and whistles of Windows are also reliant on Edge, like widgets, but I never use those. I use my PC almost exclusively for gaming, and I don't want this slimy "ai" shit on my computer. I use Firefox anyway. Edge can go die as far as I'm concerned.

Here's the actual steps, copy-pasted from a website that took me way too long to find. It also really makes my browser chug for some reason, which is why I'm copy-pasting the whole thing. If you still want to look at the site itself, put it in reader view as fast as you can (link to site).

1.) Open Microsoft Edge, type "edge://settings/help" in the address bar, and then press Enter.

2.) Click "About Microsoft Edge" at the bottom of the left-hand pane. Copy the version number at the top of the screen, under Microsoft Edge.

3.) Press Windows Key + S to open Windows Search.

4.) Type "Command Prompt", right-click the result, and then select "Run as Administrator".

5.) The User Account Control (UAC) prompt will appear. Click "Yes".

6.) Navigate to Edge’s “Installer” directory by using the cd command. Depending on which directory your Command Prompt opens in by default, you may need to use the "cd .." command to go back a level or two.

Once ready, run this command:

cd “Program Files (x86)\Microsoft\Edge\Application\Version Number\Installer”

Replace "Version Number" with your actual version number copied earlier.

7.) Next, run this command to uninstall Microsoft Edge:

setup –uninstall –force-uninstall –system-level

((It will look like nothing happened! Don't worry!))

8.) Restart your PC for the changes to take place.

((HOWEVER, Windows will try to reinstall it the next time your PC updates (or whenever it feels like it lol) so there's a second half to this))

1.) Press Windows Key + R to open Run.

2.) Type "regedit" in the text box and click OK to open the Registry Editor.

3.) The User Account Control (UAC) prompt will appear. Click "Yes".

4.) In the Registry Editor, navigate to HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINES\SOFTWARE\Microsoft.

5.) Right-click the "Microsoft" folder, hover your cursor over "New", and then select "Key".

6.) Rename the new Key to "EdgeUpdate".

7.) Right-click EdgeUpdate, hover your cursor over "New", and then select "DWORD (32-bit) Value".

8.) Right-click the new value, which is currently named "New Value #1".

9.) Select "Rename" from the context menu.

10.) Rename the value to "DoNotUpdateToEdgeWithChromium".

11.) Right-click the newly-named DoNotUpdateToEdgeWithChromium value and select "Modify" from the context menu.

12.) The Edit DWORD (32-bit) Value window will appear. Change the Value data to "1" and then click OK.

((You are now free. If you ever run into a really serious, unavoidable issue with your OS that's clearly a result of Edge being gone, you can redownload it like a regular app. But you should be fine.))

((And, if for some reason you want still want Edge around but just want the copilot thing gone, here's what you do:

The command, for ease of copy-pasting: reg add HKCU\Software\Policies\Microsoft\Windows\WindowsCopilot /v TurnOffWindowsCopilot /t REG_DWORD /d 1 /f

You can't actually truly delete Copilot (without deleting Edge), only disable it. And as the reply says, you do have to do this every time you turn the computer on. I haven't tested that myself, but I believe it. I assume/hope that excludes just waking the computer up after it goes to sleep, but I don't know for sure.))

#not art #if i had known better at the time i wouldn't have updated to windows 11 but here we are

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tiya-minuscule · 2 years ago

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Apologies if this has been asked before but what medium / art supplies do u use for ur fancomics ? To me it looks like an ink pen and the text is digital ? Do u prefer to draw traditional over digital ? LOVE ur art by the way 💕💕💕💕💕 inspires me so much !!

Hey Anon ! You are absolutly right about the process :D Here is the version of the comic on paper on the couch I drew it with my favorite ink pen !

When I'm done with the drawings, I scan everything ! Here is a version of a page without any editing.

I wrote all the dialogues in french fisrt, so I don't think about the translation when I draw. But first thing first, I like to rearrenge the drawing to make it easier for the reader. For exemple :

I also like to erase some of the construction line so you can see more of the facial expression and make it less rough.

So here is the final product after the editing and the cleaning :

I always write a first version of the translation then I sent it to @lutiaslayton who kindly give some of her time to correct my spelling and grammar mistakes and even suggest some translation so the final text stays as close as possible to what I intended to say in the original version :D And then I post everything and wait to see your kind words <3 I do all this editing on TvPaint which is an animation software. It's not very logical, but it truely has the best cleaning scan tool ! Most of the time, I prefer to draw traditional because on digital I always tend to seak perfection and erase or redo things over and over again... And for this project I really want to keep it smooth and improvised, so paper is the best option :) Also, I professionnaly work a lots on computer so it feels really refreshing to draw on paper again ! So now you know everything Anon, thanks for your kind words :)

#ask #anon #universuty au #process

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arzelace · 11 months ago

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5 Trends in ICT

Exploring the 5 ICT Trends Shaping the Future The Information and Communication Technology (ICT) landscape is evolving at a rapid pace, driven by advancements that are transforming how we live, work, and interact. Here are five key trends in ICT that are making a significant impact:

1. Convergence of Technologies

Technologies are merging into integrated systems, like smart devices that combine communication, media, and internet functions into one seamless tool. This trend enhances user experience and drives innovation across various sectors

Convergence technologies merge different systems, like smartphones combining communication and computing, smart homes using IoT, telemedicine linking healthcare with telecom, AR headsets overlaying digital on reality, and electric vehicles integrating AI and renewable energy.

2. Social Media

Social media platforms are central to modern communication and marketing, offering real-time interaction and advanced engagement tools. New features and analytics are making these platforms more powerful for personal and business use.

Social media examples linked to ICT trends include Facebook with cloud computing, TikTok using AI for personalized content, Instagram focusing on mobile technology, LinkedIn applying big data analytics, and YouTube leading in video streaming.

3. Mobile Technologies

Mobile technology is advancing with faster 5G networks and more sophisticated devices, transforming how we use smartphones and tablets. These improvements enable new applications and services, enhancing connectivity and user experiences.

Mobile technologies tied to ICT trends include 5G for high-speed connectivity, mobile payment apps in fintech, wearables linked to IoT, AR apps like Pokémon GO, and mobile cloud storage services like Google Drive.

4. Assistive Media

Assistive media technologies improve accessibility for people with disabilities, including tools like screen readers and voice recognition software. These innovations ensure that digital environments are navigable for everyone, promoting inclusivity.

Assistive media examples linked to ICT trends include screen readers for accessibility, AI-driven voice assistants, speech-to-text software using NLP, eye-tracking devices for HCI, and closed captioning on video platforms for digital media accessibility.

5. Cloud Computing

Cloud computing allows for scalable and flexible data storage and application hosting on remote servers. This trend supports software-as-a-service (SaaS) models and drives advancements in data analytics, cybersecurity, and collaborative tools.

Cloud computing examples related to ICT trends include AWS for IaaS, Google Drive for cloud storage, Microsoft Azure for PaaS, Salesforce for SaaS, and Dropbox for file synchronization.

Submitted by: Van Dexter G. Tirado

#5 trends in ict #empowerment technology

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dearestones · 2 years ago

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A Weirdo at the Library (Brian Thomas and Reader)

Warnings: Reader is too curious for their own good, slight horror.

Anonymous Request: Could I have the Prompt "Why should I trust you?" For Hoodie from Marble Hornets?

There’s a strange man who frequents your library from the time it opens until it closes. He's dressed in a tan hooded sweatshirt, a black hat that looked better worn during the winter months, and a blank expression on his face that never quite seems to emote. Even though you usually arrive at work a few minutes before the start of your workday, the man is usually hunched over by the entrance, his stance clearly relaxed.

For as long as you've remembered, the man was always alone. Aside from the backpack that housed a laptop and a few other essentials you were not privy to, he had no other belongings. Briefly, whenever you decided to give him some thought, you wondered if he was homeless.

It would make sense.

The clothes usually stayed the same, the scent of mustiness that reminded you of campsites and forests filling your nostrils. However, other than his permanent outfit, you had the feeling that he wasn't an absolute slob. You had no right to judge, but you had the feeling that maybe he frequented public facilities like local gyms to accommodate his hygienic needs.

Maybe he did have a home and you were overthinking.

Whatever the case, it didn't matter.

You always unlocked the door for him if you were the first to clock in and it went unspoken amongst your colleagues that it was best not to disturb the man.

And so, it went like that for months, maybe even years. You weren't particularly too detail oriented about the specifics of how long you had known the man in the tan hoodie, but you did know that it was rare not to see him in the library.

Even though it was none of your business, you often wondered if he worked solely through remote means. Perhaps he didn't have wifi wherever he lived and was utilizing the library's resources. Sometimes, whenever you glanced up from your desk or reshelved books into their proper places, you would find him leaving his laptop behind on one of the tables he monopolized for himself to peruse the bookshelves. He never checked out a book to take home, but you did catch him bussing stacks of texts to his table. Minutes later, he would end up scribbling on scraps of paper he would tear from battered notebooks.

On the rare occasion that you were the sole person to reshelve the books he left behind, you realized that he was picking up books about codes, ciphers, and texts about computer programming and software.

In the beginning, you chalked it up to a hobby that he liked to pursue in the midst of his work.

That is, until you managed to get a good look at his laptop and the notes that he left on the table one afternoon.

At the very beginning, the man in the tan hoodie used to close his laptop shut and flip over his notepad or weigh it down with a series of reference texts. However, for some reason unknown to you, he must have felt relaxed enough to leave everything on his work station available for everyone to see. You spotted him retreating into the men's bathroom—not an unusual scene—but you happened to be only a few feet away from his table at that exact moment.

Your next few actions were unprecedented and unconscious.

As a librarian, you learned from the very beginning not to judge people for their tastes and preferences. So what if there was a middle aged woman reading erotica meant for women years younger than her? Or that was a young man reading a children's series about school mysteries? Or that there was a straightlaced businessman checking out a niche manga series from the nineties? Checking out books meant more engagement, which could potentially lead to more funding for your library. You only checked their library card and made sure that they returned their books on time.

But this was the man in the tan hooded sweatshirt.

He was a mystery who not only perplexed you, but also your coworkers.

What you were going to do next was neither illegal nor immoral… Perhaps a little questionable, but that meant nothing!

It wasn’t wrong to take a quick glance at someone’s work, just a passing glance nothing more. Everyone always caught a glimpse that wasn’t necessarily their business, so why was this any different? And if you were caught, you could say that you had dropped something near his work space… You were merely an unobtrusive, simple librarian. What was this man going to do to you for being curious?

Your interest had been piqued so long ago and you had been patient, you needed to know.

Before you could stop yourself, you swiftly walked over to the table and took a sneak peek at his laptop.

What you saw on the screen looked banal and not at all what you expected to see from the man in the tan hoodie. He used a browser unfamiliar to you, but anyone from a mile away could initially recognize the layout of YouTube. You focused on the video player upon the screen, squinting at the video’s title.

It appeared to be nondescript and unassuming; it was titled “entry” followed by what you assumed was its corresponding number.

The uploader of the video was also unknown, but their handle was far more whimsical than you had expected from the title alone. Marble Hornets, you read. What, were the hornets made out of marble? Or were they marbles with hornets in them?

Still, the name stuck with you despite it all.

You found your eyes drifting past the keyboard and onto the series of books and scraps of paper that littered the majority of his table. For some unfathomable reason, a number of those scraps of paper were littered with dozens of sketches of pine trees, strange circles that were crossed out, and vague, disturbing warnings about something watching in the woods. You dared not touch any of the scraps lest you leave incriminating evidence behind, but you did see that one of the reference texts was open to a page about encryption methods.

Glossing over the contents, you didn’t learn too much except that whoever the man was, he was smart.

Whatever the case, you didn’t want to any longer than you had to. It was one thing to sneak a glance at his belongings, quite another to be caught theorizing right in front of him. Quickly, you hurried off to another part of the library, something nondescript like the children’s section.

No sooner did you help a child pull the newest picture book off of a shelf did you spot the man striding from the bathroom and towards his spot. Averting your eyes, you gently reminded the child to not tear the pages and to ask for more help if they needed it. Excited and eager to please, the child thanked you heartily and skipped away to whom you thought was their guardian.

You happened to turn around at that exact moment—later on, you would contemplate why—only to find that the man in the tan hoodie was staring at you. Normally, whenever you found yourself locking eyes with the man—usually in passing—one or both of you would nod in acknowledgement before quickly turning away. That simply wasn’t the case now.

For five complete seconds, his eyes held you in place, the expression on his face strange and surreal to see on his normally impassive visage.

And then—

When you began entertaining the idea that maybe he knew or had seen you retreating, he turned away and began scribbling something in one of his papers.

You could only hope that he wasn’t furiously drawing more trees.

After that incident, you forgot about that strange man.

At the end of the day, you were still a librarian and that meant that you still had to cater to a variety of people's interests. There were a group of young ladies who wanted to know if the latest romance novel by a famous author had been shipped. An older gentleman with a hearing impairment asked if there were any books about developmental psychology. There were other questions and requests; all of them, you were sure to fulfill to the best of your ability.

Shortly after, the librarian closed and you watched as the stragglers gathered the last of their books, logged off their computers, or printed out the last of their research papers. Once that was done, you said goodbye to your fellow coworker, some of whom decided to stay a little later just to tidy up and gossip.

You laughed a little at that, but wished them the best for their evenings before you stepped out of the premises and into the chilly evening air. Having been working in this library for a while now, your guard wasn't up as you walked into the near empty parking lot, your car parked strategically near a lamplight so that it illuminated it perfectly. As you unlocked your vehicle, you began to feel a tickling sensation at the nape of your neck that trickled down your spine and raised the skin on your arms.

Someone was watching you, possibly from behind.

On guard, you immediately turned around, your keys wrapped in your fist as if you were brandishing a knife. Before you could initiate a stabbing or slashing motion should you find someone or something standing behind you, your hand was immediately intercepted by someone who was stronger than you. The shock of being caught without so much as a backup plan hindered you from recognizing the person holding you hostage until you noticed that the man was wearing a tan hoodie and that same expression on his face that you spotted him wearing him the last time you saw him, was aimed at you.

It was wariness and suspicion.

“What did you see?”

His voice was raspy and soft, as if it had been a long time since he had used it. However, you could not deny that even though there was a lack of volume, there was a notable threat—as if the tightening hold on your wrist wasn’t enough.

“W-what—”

“Don’t play stupid.” His grip flexed and you had no choice but to let go of the keys. As they cluttered onto the ground, he relaxed the hold he had on you, but the look in his eyes was still suspicious. But there was also an undercurrent of desperation. “What did you see?”

Maybe he had known all along that you had been watching him.

You were stupid to think that you could get away with this, but it was all for curiosity’s sake! There was no way he was getting riled up over something this stupid!

“F-fine!” You gritted your teeth and answered, “All I saw was a YouTube video and some of your creepy drawings. Happy?”

His eyes hardened. “You’re the one snooping through my belongings. Why should I trust you?”

You bit the inside of your mouth. “Okay, it was wrong of me to take a look—it was just a loo!—and I should have respected your space! I’m sorry! I didn’t see anything other than that! Honest!”

Finally, after you thought that he was sizing you up for a mugging, the man in the tan hoodie finally let go and practically shoved you into your driver’s seat. You tripped, but managed to right yourself so that you could cast one more fearful glance at your attacker.

“What the—”

“Go home, stay home. And don’t go snooping into places you aren’t supposed to.”

Had you the bravery, you would have retaliated, but you could barely stomach your shock when he grabbed your keys from the ground before throwing them into your lap.

By the time you slammed your door shut, locked and made sure all of your windows were secure, and started the ignition, the stranger was long gone.

That was the last time you ever saw him.

However, you couldn’t help but sense the feeling that something was following you. Always in the periphery of your vision, but never quite coming into focus. It was not the man in the tan hoodie, but it was something far more malevolent.

And it reminded you of the strange drawings that the man had scribbled.

What else had you seen?

Oh. You remembered now.

A tall, slender man hiding among the trees.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

MARBLE HORNETS MASTERLIST

#marble hornets #mh #marble hornets brian #brian thomas #mh brian #reader #marble hornets reader #gender neutral reader #gn! reader #gender neutral #dearestones #devintrinidad

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everygame · 2 years ago

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Merry Christmas From Melbourne House (Commodore 64) Developed/Published by: Melbourne House Released: 1984 Completed: 11/12/2023 Completion: Beat it with a score of 100 out of 100.

It’s 1984 and the Christmas cash-in market is finally mature, with five whole games released for home computers (at the very least.) Alphabetically first in my list (because Icon Software chose to go with “Xmas” on their merry release) Merry Christmas From Melbourne House is a slight cheat because it’s really just a tiny tech demo/bit of marketing, but it was sold, costing 95p (the price of tape duplication and postage?) for readers of Commodore User (it was actually in the December issue and the deadline was December 17th to get your money to them, which makes me wonder how many people played this long after things stopped being festive.)

It is though, honestly, what I was kind of expecting from A Christmas Adventure. It’s a short, very easy little adventure game that… passes about half an hour and actually manages to feel Christmassy.

Like A Christmas Adventure, you’re tasked with making sure Santa can get away from the north pole to deliver presents, but in a shocking twist… YOU are Santa. The game’s blurb claims he’s “attempting to stop an industrial dispute” that “is threatening the delivery of toys to children of the world” and it sounds like jolly old saint nick is a fat cat like the rest of ‘em, and out of solidarity with the elves and workers everywhere I spent quite a bit of time typing things like “GIVE ELVES RAISE” and “PROVIDE TIME OFF” but the parser never understood it, so I almost didn’t finish this.

The plot is a bit oversold anyway, considering the solution is pretty much “Get off your fat arse and pack your sack of toys yourself, Santa.”

As you’re not doing all that much, the parser is adequate, and the graphics are… genuinely quite evocative. They are important too–the toys you have to pack are all on one screen. I don’t generally like this design in graphic text adventures–where you don’t get told everything in text (I’m a VERBOSE man in Infocom games)–and having to work out directions here was not my favourite, But it worked well enough, and I was even charmed by the full screen advert for Melbourne House games.

Anyway, lemme see how much 95p is in today’s money. £3.77. I can’t really say people got their money’s worth here, but they could do a lot worse.

Will I ever play it again? I’m good.

Final Thought: Joe Pranevich over at The Adventurer’s Guild played through this as well if you’d like to read something more in-depth about it, with the bonus that one of the developers, Dave Johnston, shows up in the comments, revealing that it was developed “in a matter on weeks using an in-house text engine and a tweaked sprite engine based on Way of the Exploding Fist code” and that he didn’t even have a copy. They paid people at Melbourne House so poorly that they couldn’t raise 95p???

Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up a digital copy of exp. 2600, a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

#gaming #video games #games #txt #text #review #commodore 64 #c64 #merry christmas from melbourne house #melbourne house #christmas #1984

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mesrianilawgroup · 2 years ago

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Examples of Reasonable Accommodations in the Workplace

People who have disabilities may sometimes need accommodations. In the context of the workplace, reasonable accommodations are adaptations and changes to environment or procedures that assist disabled workers in performing their job. There are also accommodations that prospective employees may need throughout the hiring process as well. Needs and abilities vary from person to person and therefore so do the accommodations granted to each individual. Many different types of accommodations are relatively easy to provide and most come at no real cost to the employer.

Who is an Individual with a Disability?

When an individual has mental or physical limitations to their ability to perform major life activities, they are considered disabled by the Americans with Disabilities Act and are entitled to reasonable accommodations. When requesting accommodations at work, if the disability is not visibly obvious, the employer may ask for a doctor’s confirmation that the accommodation is necessary.

Types of Workplace Reasonable Accommodations

Reasonable accommodations come in three main categories:

No Tech – Accommodations that require minimum cost and effort. This can include allowing someone more time to complete tasks or letting them eat at their desk.

Low Tech – Accommodations that require a small amount of cost and effort. This can include providing lumbar support for chairs or wrist supports for mice and keyboards.

High Tech – Accommodations that require extra cost and effort. This can include installing automatic door and providing screen readers.

Common Examples of Reasonable Accommodations in the Workplace

There are many ways in which an employer can provide reasonable accommodations for their employees such as:

Alterations – Changing the way a job is performed, the time frame it is performed in, or the people responsible for individual aspects of the job itself.

Equipment – Altering equipment such as chair modifications or changing the display and audio settings on a computer and/or providing devices such as desk heaters or magnifiers.

Help – Allowing personal aids or caretakers to provide assistance.

Materials – Making alterations to the format of provided information.

Parking – Providing accessible parking for employees.

Reassignment – Moving an employee to an equal position that is better suited to their needs.

Scheduling – Allowing for flexibility within an employee’s schedule to allow for extra breaks or time off for doctor’s appointments.

Technology – Providing things such as screen readers, modified headsets, and assistive software.

Job Restructuring

An example of reasonable accommodation may be changing the way a job is performed. This can be done by reassigning workloads amongst different employees, changing the employee’s location, or even removing or replacing certain duties.

Rearranging the way tasks and duties are divided amongst coworkers is one way to reasonably accommodate employees with disabilities. If there are two receptionists and one of them is dyslexic, that employee might handle the majority of helping guests and transferring calls while the other handles the majority of the paperwork and typing.

Some disabilities may prevent people from being able to perform their job in the given work environment, perhaps due to mobility or sensory issues. If the job can be done from home or at a more accessible location, it may be reasonable to allow the employee to do so.

There are also some aspects of the way a job is performed that may be easily eliminated or changed completely. A deaf employee may be allowed to handle correspondences via text and email rather than making phone calls. An employee with mobility issues may be permitted to mail things out rather than making deliveries.

Modified Work Schedules and Flexible Leave Policies

Some disabilities may cause an employee to require a modified schedule. If accommodating that schedule does not cause the employer undue hardship, then it would be considered a reasonable accommodation. This may involve extra breaks, regular days off, or even a part time schedule.

A person with an ongoing illness may require regular days off to receive treatment.

A person with chronic pain may only be able to work every other day or require three day weekends in order to recuperate.

A person with diabetes may require extra breaks to eat and manage their insulin.

There are also some disabilities that may require employees to take a leave of absence for more than a day or two. The employer is not necessarily required to provide paid leave in these situations, but they are expected to allow for disability leave when applicable.

A person with a condition that involves flair ups may need extra time off.

Some treatments may have extended recovery time.

The workplace may be temporarily inhospitable due to a person’s disability.

A person with a prosthetic may need time off for repair or replacement.

A flexible work schedule accommodation may also involve an employee being permitted to work remotely a day or two a week or working weekends instead of weekdays.

Modification or Purchase of Equipment or Devices

There are many accessibility aids that can help someone with disabilities in the workplace. Employers are required to provide reasonable equipment when necessary. However, employers are only responsible for things specifically needed for the job. Accessibility aids required for daily functions such as glasses or hearing aids are the employee’s responsibility.

Employees who are visually impaired may require:

Screen reading software

Braille or raised print copies of documents

Magnifying devices

Additional lighting

Employees who are hard of hearing may require:

Teletypewriters

Text telephones

Transcript software

Employees with mobility issues may require:

Telephone headsets

Modified equipment controls

Modified desks for wheelchairs

Stabilizing devices

Employees with dyslexia or ADHD may require:

Guided reading software

Employees with chronic pain may require:

Modified seating

Training

Employers are required to provide employees with disabilities the same opportunities for advancement as their coworkers. This means ensuring that any training is accessible to everyone. Ways that employers may provide training accommodations include:

Making sure that training sites are accessible

Providing training materials in alternative formats

Including sign language interpreters in presentations

Adding captioning to video/audio guides

Modification of Policies

There are some companies that have policies that may prevent a disabled person from being able to do their job efficiently or safely. These policies would have to be amended or the employee given exemption. Examples of this may include:

A worksite that does not allow animals permitting an employee to bring their service dog

A company with a ‘no eating on the clock’ or ‘no food at your desk’ rule allowing an exception for a diabetic employee

An employee with sensory issues or ADHD being allowed to wear headphones

Modified emergency evacuation plans for employees with mobility issues

A company that only provides on site parking for management providing a space for a lower-level employee with mobility issues

Modification of Physical Site or Building

Sometimes, the way the worksite itself is designed poses a hindrance to disabled employees that their coworkers do not face.

Structural changes are sometimes necessary, such as:

Building ramps

Adding accessible bathrooms

Installing elevators/escalators

Non-structural changes may also provide solutions, such as:

Setting up water coolers

Syncing an alert light to the doorbell

Moving meetings and training to another area

Provision of Readers, Communication Access Providers, or Personal Assistants

Some employees may need accommodations by way of third party assistance. This assistance may be needed occasionally or frequently depending on situation at hand. If providing this assistance does not cause undue hardship to the employer, it is considered a reasonable accommodation.

Readers may be employed to assist employees with vision impairments as well as those with dyslexia or learning disabilities. The reader should be able to comprehend the materials being read so that they can clearly and accurately provide the information.

Sign language interpreters can be especially useful for employees who are hard of hearing and/or mute to easily and clearly convey and receive information with their boss, coworkers, and clients.

Captioners and transcribers may be needed for employees who are hard of hearing or have auditory processing disorder when dealing with video presentations.

Drivers may be provided for vision impaired employees who are required to travel as part of their job.

Personal assistants can help in a myriad of ways such as:

Carrying things for employees whose disability involves a weightlifting restriction.

Retrieving or filing things on high shelves for an employee in a wheelchair.

Performing fine motor functions for those with conditions such as Parkinson’s.

Reassignment to a Vacant Position and Light Duty

Sometimes, an employee may develop a disability during their employment that makes it difficult or impossible to perform the job they were already doing. Sometimes, accommodations can be made. If there are no viable reasonable accommodations that can be provided, the employer may need to reassign them to another position with job duties they would be able to perform.

The reassignment should not be a demotion and should pay the same or a comparable salary. The reassignment should also not conflict with another employee being entitled to the position due to a collective bargaining agreement or any seniority system in place.

Some employers have provisions in place to assign employees to light duty when needed. This is not a requirement under the ADA, but a prudent option for industries that involve heavy labor and/or high risk of injury such as construction, fire departments, and law enforcement. Light duty positions are considered a reasonable accommodation if:

The employee is unable to perform their current job due to disability

The employee is qualified and capable of performing the light duty work

Reassigning the employee to the light duty job would not cause undue hardship

Other Accommodations

Other accommodations and considerations may be needed for employees with disabilities depending on the specific situation.

Some jobs compensate their employees for gas milage when traveling is part of their duties. If an employee can not drive due to their disability, the employer may compensate them for public transportation costs instead.

Employees who have learning disabilities may be provided extra personal training to ensure that they are able to fully grasp the skills needed for their job.

Employees with ADHD may be permitted to use their own organizational system rather than company standard or given more flexibility in how they complete tasks.

Employees may be permitted to join meetings via phone or video chat if their disability prevents them from attending in person.

Workplace Reasonable Accommodation Considerations

The following are all considerations that employers must account for when providing reasonable accommodations.

Cost – Most accommodations require relatively low cost to the employer, and some can be provided at no cost at all. Reasonable accommodations are often far less expensive than anticipated.

Essential Job Functions – While employers are expected to provide reasonable accommodations, they are not required to alter their standards for quality and production.

Providing Accommodation – Employers are not usually expected to provide accommodations unless an employee with a disability requests it.

Selection – If there are multiple accommodations that may provide the same assistance to an employee, the employer is permitted to chose which one they will provide.

Undue Hardship – If providing an accommodation would impose an undue hardship on the employer, such as exorbitant cost or difficulty, then they are not required to provide it.

What Are Essential Functions?

The tasks and duties that make up the foundation of a job are referred to as essential functions. The ability to perform those functions to a satisfactory level is what makes someone qualified to hold the position. An essential function is defined by:

Being the reason the position exists

The skill and expertise necessary

How many employees are able to complete the same tasks

Reasonable Accommodation Process

The ADA and the EEOC maintain that accommodation requests be taken into consideration case by case. First, the employee must inform their employer that they have a disability. Employers are not responsible for accommodating disabilities that they are not aware of. The reasonable accommodation process depends on open communication and cooperation between the employer and the employee.

Requesting Reasonable Accommodations in the Workplace

Every employer has their own procedure for requesting accommodations, usually through a manager or human resources department. The request must state the presence of the disability as well as how the disability prevents the employee from properly doing their job. It is best to make the request in writing and retain a copy for your own records. While it is not necessarily required to use the phrase ‘reasonable accommodation’ or cite the ADA, it is good to be clear and direct.

Obtain Preliminary Documentation

Employers are not entitled to an employee’s entire medical history. However, if an employee is requesting accommodation for a disability that is not obviously evident, the employer may request specific documentation from a healthcare provider confirming the disability and the need for accommodation. It is best to only prove the information absolutely relevant to the accommodation request and not allow the employer unlimited access to medical records.

Employers Responsibility When Responding to Reasonable Accommodation Requests

When an employee submits a request for a reasonable accommodation, they then begin what is known as an interactive process with their employer. This is an open communication between the employee and the person handling the request so that they can come to an agreement as to the best accommodation necessary for the situation. The employee may have specific ideas in mind and the employer may have follow up questions. The employer can request a confirmation from a health care professional that the accommodation is necessary if the disability is not obviously evident. The employer may also wish to review ADA guidelines to be sure of the extent of their responsibility. If the accommodation the employee is requesting is deemed too costly, the employer may want to do research to see if an equal but less expensive alternative is available.

Using JAN as a Tool

In 1983, the Department of Labor’s Office of Disability Employment Policy founded a free service known as the Job Accommodation Network to provide employers with information and guidance regarding job accommodations. Before the ADA was created, this tool established the standard for employer guidance when it came to working with those with disabilities. JAN provides a helpful summary of common problems and possible solutions known as The Employers’ Practical Guide to Reasonable Accommodation under the Americans with Disabilities Act. The guide is frequently updated as new situations are brought to their attention.

Does An Employer Need to Provide the Accommodation Requested?

When an employee informs their employer that their disability is affecting their ability to do their job effectively, the employee may already have an accommodation solution in mind. The employer may choose to provide that particular accommodation, or they might find another equally effective accommodation that may be cheaper or easier to provide.

Furthermore, employers are not required to eliminate any essential functions of the employee’s position. If the employee is unable to perform that function due to their disability, the employer may find them reasonable accommodations or transfer them to another position of comparable pay.

Similarly, employers are not required to provide accommodations that would create an undue hardship on the employer. This is generally in reference to expense and difficulty, taking into consideration the cost in relation to the employer’s finances as well as the impact of providing the accommodation. The definition of what falls under this classification varies between situations as an accommodation that could be easily provided by a large company might impose an undue hardship on a small business.

Employers are also not required to provide employees with personal services and devices needed for everyday functions. Things like glasses and hearing aids may be covered by employer provided health insurance, but they are not considered workplace accommodations.

Implementing Reasonable Accommodations

While there are no exact required guidelines regarding the procedure for implementing an accommodation, it is best practice to move things along quickly and maintain respectful communication. Employers are encouraged to keep perspective on what the employee needs in order to perform their job and not on the disability itself. The employee is often the best person to ask when trying to come up with appropriate accommodations as they know best where the difficulty is and may already have ideas. It can also be beneficial to take the abilities and strengths of individual employees into consideration when assigning job duties.

Monitoring Accommodation Effectiveness

It is important that the employer and the employee work together when implementing an accommodation. The employee best understands their disability and what they need to perform their job. The employer best understands the business and what impacts certain accommodations might have. Ultimately, the employer has final say in how they will accommodate their employees, but the accommodation must sufficiently resolve the issue. It is advised that all parties keep a clearly documented record of the process.

What Happens if Workplace Reasonable Accommodations are Denied?

Sometimes, when an employer denies an accommodation, the matter can be easily resolved. They may require medical confirmation or a more thorough explanation of how the employee’s work is impacted. It might be the specific accommodation requested is not possible, but an agreement can be reached for a comparable solution.

If a manager or supervisor denies an accommodation request, the employee may be able to take the matter to human resources. If the company has no HR department, higher ups such as a district manager or business owner may be the next step.

If the employee is a member of a union, grievances can be filed through their union rep. There may be other procedures for filing internal complaints as well.

If all else fails, it may be necessary to file an external complaint. Employees can contact the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission to file a claim for disability discrimination. It may also be necessary to speak with an employment lawyer.

Contact Mesriani Law Group if Reasonable Accommodations are Denied?

People with disabilities have the right to reasonable accommodations in the workplace. Employers are required to provide those accommodations unless they would cause undue hardship. Unfortunately, not all employers comply with ADA regulations and try to deny their employees accommodations. When this happens, legal action may be necessary. Our employment attorneys have the experience and dedication to help our clients through this stressful and difficult process. If your employer has denied your right to reasonable accommodations, call Mesriani Law Group today.

Workplace Reasonable Accommodation FAQs

What are examples of accommodation in workplace?

Some reasonable accommodation examples are: An office worker who has a vision impairment may ask for an extra lamp for their desk, a magnifying glass to help read paperwork, and screen reading software for their computer. An employee battling cancer may require a flexible schedule to allow for treatments and rest days. They may also need extra breaks or extended leave. A cashier with chronic pain may request to be permitted to sit while they work.

How do you explain reasonable accommodation?

The Americans with Disabilities Act defines a reasonable accommodation as any change made to the job itself, the workplace environment, or the procedures of the hiring process that allow a person with a disability a fair chance to get and perform a job as well as someone who does not have a disability. A reasonable accommodation should not cause undue hardship for the employer.

What is reasonable accommodation in HR?

A company’s human resources department is generally responsible for processing and fulfilling requests for reasonable accommodations. They may ask follow-up questions, request medical confirmation, and ensure that effective accommodations will be possible and affordable for the company.

How do I write a reasonable accommodation request?

An accommodation request should explain that you have a disability and because of that disability, you are unable to perform the essential functions of your job and are requesting an accommodation. You do not have to go into detail regarding personal medical information but be clear about where the issue is and how it can be resolved.

#California Employment Law #Workplace Accommodations #Disability Discrimination #Workplace Discrimination #Employment Law #Employment Laywers #California Attorneys #Americans with Disabilities Act

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