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#anyway i hope you enjoy
little-pup-pip · 3 days
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Can I request a mood board for minecraft enderman? Lots of purple and black with a paci (deco or not I’ll be happy either way! 💜
Definitely!!
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vindikaetion · 1 year
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Jack likes to give surprise kisses when Hiccup goes flying.
Toothless is not amused.
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its-your-mind · 1 month
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11 year old Gerry Kaey - a psychological analysis
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[ID: screenshot from a spreadsheet of two columns and two rows. The first column is labeled “First Name,” with “Gerard” listed below it. The second column is labeled “Last Name,” with “Kaey” listed below it. End ID]
Like everyone else, I was of course delighted by the presence of our beloved arsonist on our list of child test-subjects at the World Line 2 Magnus Institute (not delighted that he was having unethical psychology experiments performed on him, delighted by his presence. though it’s possible that this was actually a better childhood than he had with Mary. but I digress.)
(Data set can be found here, if anyone else wants to make a copy and play with it, and this post has my fave analysis of the sheet itself)
The data for Gerard Kaey was absolutely delightful, and it indicated more than almost anything else that some people were in fact the same (or very similar) across world lines. I was going to post about it and then I remembered that not everyone was forced to take a slightly outdated Educational Psychology class recently, and thus the random names at the top would not be indicators of fuckin anything without extensive Googling.
I figured trolling the internet for details on outdated developmental psychology theories and unethical sociology experiments is not most people’s idea of a fun afternoon (tho in the magnus fandom you never know); either way I figured I’d pull out the fun and interesting data on this goth child and translate it into human terms for us all to enjoy.
(QUICK NOTE: Pretty much all of these theories are outdated on account of being No Good and quite reductive and many of the experiments are EXTREMELY fucked up (all of which makes sense, given where these fictional data came from). If you’re curious about any of the actual psychological theories and criticisms, here’s a relatively jargon free summary, with further reading at the bottom. I’m gonna follow the time-honored tradition of psychology professors and say “well it sucks and was bad that this happened BUT it did happen and we might as well use the data to come to some general conclusions and/or ask better questions, especially about the people performing those tests in the first place.” anyway ty for coming to my TED talk ONTO THE GERRY DATA)
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[ID: screenshot from a spreadsheet of three columns and two rows. The first column is labeled “Kholberg,” with “Level 3” listed below it. The second column is labeled “Prosocial,” with “High” listed below it. The third column is labeled “Empathy Index,” with “95%” listed below it. End ID]
Let’s start here.
Kholberg’s Theory of Moral Development is a metric for measuring the moral development in children. It has three stages. A child who has reached the “third stage” demonstrates a consideration of the needs and feelings of others when making morality-based decisions and judgements, even above the norms and expectations of society.
Prosocial behavior is behavior that can be characterized as having no direct benefit to the person performing an action; something done entirely for the good of others.
Empathy Index is pretty self-explanatory (as far as I can tell, it’s not actually based on anything and is something the researchers created just for this experiment).
So far, we’ve got a rough picture of Gerry as a kid who has a strong moral compass, who is quick to help, even when there’s no benefit for himself. Who considers what the people around him might want or need. Who is able to throw social expectation out the window when someone else is in need.
Reminds me of that older, slightly different version of himself, sitting alone at a table in Venice, wearing a Hawaiian shirt because he’s “on vacation,” sighing in exasperation at the interruption and telling a stranger to think of her mother.
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[ID: screenshot from a spreadsheet of two columns and two rows. The first column is labeled “Milgram,” with “Low” listed below it. The second column is labeled “Asch,” with “Low” listed below it. End ID]
These are my favorite rows. They’re all the way at the end of the spreadsheet, which kind of makes me imagine that the testers had this image of a highly developed child, a kid who seemed perfect for whatever they had planned. And then…
Milgram was the motherfucker who ran the experiment where people were told to press a button, and when they did, another participant was delivered an electric shock. (there wasn’t actually a shock in Milgram’s experiment, just an actor pretending to be shocked. The socks were fake, but the psychological damage was real!) The test was designed to measure how long people would continue to do what they were told by the “scientist” running the test, even as the electric shock appeared to grow stronger. A “low” score is indicative of someone who bailed out ASAP, no matter what the test-runner said.
The Asch Conformity Experiment put a large number of people in the room (most of whom were actors) and showed them a series of images of lines with different lengths, and they had to identify which was longest. The actors all gave the correct answer for the first few, and then all of them started to give the exact same wrong answer (i.e. all of them would say B, even if Line A was clearly longest). The test measured how likely a subject was to conform to the group opinion, even when they knew the people around them were objectively wrong, if they were the only one offering a different (but correct) answer over the course of several rounds of images.
I have this super clear image of little Gerry in a ratty pair of jeans and a band t-shirt, long hair absolutely unbrushed, walking into a room with a dude in a lab coat and someone else strapped to a chair and IMMEDIATELY getting suspicious, and just refusing to press the button again once he realized what it did, leaving the actors just… lost as to how to proceed. And then with the Asch test, he’s just sitting there with a look of incredulity on his face looking at the people around him and saying “do you people need fucking glasses all of a sudden? it’s not fucking B.” and just ignoring them for the rest of the test.
and all of the Magnus people who had been VERY excited about this promising young person all of a sudden realizing that they have accidentally recruited a VERY intelligent juvenile delinquent.
so there you have it! World Line 2 Gerry Kaey was kind when he didn’t have to be, he didn’t give a shit how other people felt about him, he cared deeply for other people, UNLESS of course they were people in authority, in which case he told them to go fuck themselves.
*dreamy sigh* that’ll be our Gerard
final fun notes:
Gerry has the second highest number on the Empathy Index at 95%
The only kid who beat him, with a score of 98%, was 9 year old “Samara Khalid”
10 year old “Conner Dyer” scored “Low” on the Milgram and Asch tests JUST like Gerry. I wonder if they were friends.
Other than that, Dyer is almost exactly average among the rest of the data
Khalid scored “High” on both Milgram and Asch
Wonder how that’s gonna affect things 👀👀👀 high empathy, high value on what other people think
Sam thats so autistic of you I love u
Khalid was also on “Level 3” of Kholberg and had “High” levels of Prosocial behavior, despite being only 9 (super young to have the abstract thinking necessary for that)
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the-sun-and-the-sea · 1 month
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Summary:
He has no choice, not really. If Annie can go home, never see the Capitol again, he'd do anything to make it happen.
Or: After Annie's victory, President Snow makes Finnick an offer he can't refuse.
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Highway Hypnosis
Chapter 2: Cold Water
Joshua Cook–Joshy–is the son of Evergreen’s postmaster. He and Jasper Stevens and I used to run around at the creek together looking for smooth stones, which we’d put in old spaghetti sauce jars filled with water so that we could open them and know the smell of the river whenever we wanted. There were only eight kids our age in the whole of Evergreen, and these were the ones I chose. I lost Jasper the summer before I stopped visiting–he got all moody and started smoking cigarettes with his older brother’s friends behind the old chapel. Joshy said it was puberty, but I thought eleven was too young for that sort of thing even then. That was the way things went for us, so I stayed in touch with Joshy through sporadic emails and birthday cards and I let Jasper go. I hope the two of them stayed friends. Joshy is supposed to meet me at Uncle Len’s house; his father was entrusted with the key, and Joshy was entrusted with my wellbeing.
The house is just as I remember it. Built on a hill, like Noah’s Ark, so that the rain doesn’t flood the garden and drown the hydrangeas. Len painted the whole thing green when he bought the place, and to his credit he seems to have kept up with it. It’s small and eclectic, even from the outside, but it’s his. It’s him, and now it’s me and it’s mine. I get out of the car to stretch my legs and end up on the front steps with my back pressed into the edge of the porch. I look out at my feet in their white shoes–too white for a place called Evergreen, population 1200–and the crunch of gravel drags my eyes to the face of Joshua Cook, which is attached to a much taller and more athletic-looking Joshy than I remember.
“That can’t be our Homecoming Queen,” he calls, shielding his eyes from the sun as he trudges up the drive. I was never anybody’s homecoming queen, but he coined the nickname when we were young enough to rationalize that, because I was a girl who came home (“home” being a relative term) every summer, I must be his.
“Joshy,” I smile, standing to meet him. He hugs me tight, a real it’s-been-too-long type of hug.
“I’m sorry about Len,” he says because he has to, and then, even though he doesn’t have to, “you must be sick to death of hearing that.” I smile and nod.
“A little. Helps when I know you actually mean it,”
Joshy digs around in his pocket for a moment before producing a ring of keys. He dangles it before me, enticing me to take it, and I do. They’re regular keys, by which I mean they’re the size and shape of everyday house keys, but I swear to God they’ve got the weight and history of cast-iron skeleton keys, like something you’d use to unlock that little room off to the side of the Cathedra where they’re supposed to keep the relics. I haven’t been a religious woman since I was old enough to know better, but for a split-second holding these keys feels like standing on the precipice of something–Heaven or Hell, I don’t yet know.
“I can head home if you want some time to settle in, but if you wanted to take a little walk into town with me, I could introduce you to some people before my shift?” Joshy says, half-question and half-suggestion, “Or maybe re-introduce you? Not much has changed around here since you left.”
“Sure,” I say, “I’m in no rush.”
Joshy is as lively and chipper as I remember, perhaps in compensation for the less-than-cheerful circumstances of our reunion. He’s grown into what my mother would call a Fine Young Man, with broad shoulders and deep brown skin. He’s wearing jeans and sensible Washingtonian boots with a soft, oversized T-shirt. His presence, as ever in step with mine, puts me at ease; he is the boy who pushed me into the river, and I am the girl who pulled him in after me.
Gradually, I am re-introduced to Margaret at the bar, Jefferson at the roadside fruit stand, and Joshy’s father Leo at the post office. The counter at the general store, which is apparently owned by a woman named Melanie, currently houses a pair of long legs whose associated body is obscured by a comically large newspaper. The owner of the paper does not lower it as we enter, and Joshy rolls his eyes.
“I’m sure you remember Moss,” he says. I don’t.
“Moss?”
“Yep. Slow to grow on you,” he explains, “put it down, asshole.”
The person–Moss–lowers the paper to reveal a lanky, dark-haired man about my own age. His eyes are big and brown, and I know them. They chased me around trees and hid behind blindfolds during silly childhood games. Before I can identify them, their owner speaks.
“Eleven years,” he says. I’m taken aback–firstly, that he appears to have kept track of the passage of time since our last interaction, and secondly that he seems instantly and acutely aware of the fact that he knows me at all.
I nod, unsure of what else to do. “Almost exactly,” I reply. The man, who I now recognize as Jasper Stevens, hasn’t broken eye contact with me since he stood up. It’s an almost competitive stare, as if daring me to break first. I’m struck at once by the desire, left over from childhood, to shove him squarely backward into the counter and the inexplicable twentysomething urge to bury myself in his arms. It’s an aspect of my psychology that I’ve never been able to come to terms with, the innate need to seek comfort from those most unwilling to give it. The absolute knowledge, beyond all reasonable doubt, that whatever’s wrong with me will be fixed if the most withholding person in the room can only take a moment’s interest in me.
Jasper tilts his head to the side, resembling for a moment a particularly precocious cocker spaniel, and then speaks again. “Are you sticking around, Andie?”
“I think so,” I say, “at least for a while.”
“You think so?”
“I know. I am,” I say stupidly, clocking all at once that, assuming Jasper works at the general store full-time, I’ll probably have to see him every time I need groceries or ant traps or hand soap. Maybe I should reconsider. Jasper only nods, though.
“That’s good. I have something of Len’s, if you’ll be around I can give it to you.”
Joshy clears his throat, glancing between us with the nervous, fluttering air of someone who’s watching their in-laws and their parents interact for the first time. “Andie, are you okay if I head out? I told Janie I’d meet her before my shift,” he says. I recall that Janie is the name of Joshy’s longtime girlfriend, and smile inwardly. Joshy and Janie.
“Totally, I’ll head back to the house in a bit.”
“Call you tomorrow,” Joshy says, squeezing my shoulder before he leaves. As the bell above the door sounds its hair-raising alarm, I’m hit by the unwelcome realization that he could have been lying. I’m not sure what puts the idea in my head; there’s certainly no reasonable basis for it. Anyway, it would be an innocuous lie, so why am I suddenly uneasy? I roll my shoulders back and straighten my spine, standing tall against I don’t know what, and watch him go before turning back to Jasper.
The boy–it’s so difficult to see a man as anything else when you’ve known him in childhood–is gazing at me thoughtfully. No, not at me–through me. For one ridiculous moment I find myself wondering if he can see the inside of my brain, the panic of thoughts rushing through it, if he’s standing inside of it and letting it flow around him like a current. Then he changes. His face softens, like someone who’s just realized all their yelling is probably scaring the children in the vicinity, and I think for a moment that he might smile.
“Long drive, you must be tired,” he says gently.
“Exhausted,” I reply, “I think I’ve been hallucinating since Idaho.”
Jasper nods, oddly serene. “My shift ends in fifteen. If you hang out for a little bit I’ll drive you home.”
It’s a tempting offer, but something about the prospect of getting into a car with him, however short the drive may be, activates some kind of winged beast in me that beats against my ribcage in protest. “I’ve spent so much time in the car lately, I’d rather walk. Thank you, though.”
Jasper, again, nods his understanding. “Hang out anyway? For old times’ sake?”
“Why are you trying to keep me here?” I ask, trying halfheartedly to stifle the note of suspicion that threatens my speech. Jasper shrugs.
“I blew it the last time, and you never came back. I don’t like to repeat my mistakes.”
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sagesfandomspot · 9 months
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New baby, new jobs, new city, new opportunities. Adulthood snuck up on Rory and Jess, but now that it's here, they're pretty happy. Content, even. What will life throw at them now? Only time will tell.
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telemna-hyelle · 2 years
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Do it. Write the song. I dare you.
You know you wanna.
Well, I have a little ditty for you, entitled
"I am Going to Regret This"
...
You have Legend, you have Twilight,
Heroes evil could not destroy,
And Sky, and Wind, and brave Hyrule,
Blorbos that never will annoy
The Old Man and the little Smith,
and scarred Wild cooking with joy,
But Warriors shall e'er stand out
for he is a sassy boyyyyyyyyyyyy~
...
He's not just a pretty face,
a scarf or butt of jokes.
He's a noble hero in his own right
which seems to escape some folks
He's a soldier, and a captain,
a brother and a friend
And when the Quest gets going
on him they all depend!
...
Y'see there was a priestess
Who was lonely all the day
And she got a bit too clingy
Understandable, but not okay
She tried to take the hero
and keep him for her own
To bad for that poor priestss
for Link did not stand alone!
.
OCARINA SOLO
.
A big ol' war was fought then
'Twas both back and forth in time
And sometimes also sideways
With a Princess who does crimes
Friends and foes through history
did clash in grand attacks
And when it ended, our boy had
Stopped Ganon in his tracks.
...
But when the war was over,
LInk had to say good-bye
To all the friends along the way
who did aid and strength supply
He bid farewell, some tears were shed
And then he went to rest
But little did he know, Jojo
had thought up a new Quest
...
It's time for time shenanigans:
Electric Boogaloo
One single hero is not enough
you need also four times two
Yes, nine is the magic number
(Alas, Spirit's out of luck)
And these heroes need a Captain
who reins them in when all's amok
...
For Time cannot just lead alone
He has many things to bear
But Warriors will have his back
and help lighten his cares.
He fights for them, supports them
and with Dink gladly duel
And deftly use the fire-rod
'cause arson is way cool
...
And of course our boy is sassy,
for he knows that words hold sway
A joke and cheerful banter
will distract from cares that weigh
For a soldier and a captain
who fought in a dreadful war
Knows well, my boy, that this peace is
what all true Warriors fight for
...
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remapped-soul · 1 year
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HELLO <3
23 - sebchal - Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?
28 - What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?
or
Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?
sico or brocedes <3
and
48 (as a fun one)
so i wrote a wonderful reply to this and lost it all bc tumblr crashed. yay. I'm slightly less angry now so here we go again. i split the answer in two bc each prompt got too long :)) i'l tag you in the brocedes. this one is sebchal. love you <3
Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?
Of course, it's Charles, even though he's not the one who retired. It's Sebastian who gets up at ass-crack at dawn to feed the chickens if they are in Switzerland or to feed and walk Bruno if they are in Monaco. He never leaves Bruno behind, not when he gets to see Charles playing with him. Sebastian doesn't use an alarm clock, too used to the routine by now. Charles can't get up without one, and yet, whenever Seb stirs, Charles clings to him like an overgrown plush octopus, muttering "five more minutes, Seb, please". He buries his nose in Seb's collarbones, legs tangled together, so Seb decides that being five minutes late to start his day can't hurt. He pets Charles' hair and kisses his forehead and draws circles on his naked back until Charles' breath evens out and Seb can get out of bed. No one wants Bruno to pee on their hardwood floors.
Other times, Charles is sleepy and soft and flushed. He doesn't cling to Sebastian, he simply turns toward Seb in bed, blinks unfocused eyes at him as Seb drinks his glass of water. Seb takes one look at him and decides his morning routine can wait. He returns to bed and he presses Charles into the mattress until Charles gasps softly against his lips, flushed and oh, so lovely.
28. What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?
They like them, but they don't overuse them. Charles used to blush at first, even when he couldn't grasp their meaning. Sebastian would say "Can you pass me the salt, liebling?" or "Don't forget to take the trash out, schatz", and Charles' body flushed all over, blinking owlishly at him. Even now, years after Charles learned to speak German, he still gets warm all over when Sebastian calls him anything but his name.
Charles being Charles which means being Monegasque, he called Sebastian mon chéri and mon chou after their first dates. He can't help himself. Affection is built into the language he is speaking. It sent Sebastian into a laughing fit, and Charles wanted to hide under the table, embarrassed beyond words. Now, Charles uses them mostly to make Seb smile.
Other times, when they are away from the prying eyes of the camera and their friends, in the privacy of their homes, Charles calls Sebastian sweetheart because he loves how pretty Sebastian blushes, how pliant he becomes in Charles' arms, ready to be loved, easy to be loved.
When they've been apart for too long, time zones and continents and races gone bad stretching endlessly between them, Sebastian whispers mon coeur against the speaker of his phone. Charles' breath stutters, a tiny gasp disrupted by static. Sebastian whispers, "Mon coeur, I'm here" and sometimes it's enough to get Charles through another morning, another day, another race.
48. Who's the better driver? (aka the promp i completely lost it thinking about seb driving)
When asked about it, Charles will always say it's Sebastian. He doesn't specify if he means F1 or other cars because he is no fool. In Monaco or in Thurgau, Sebastian takes the wheel and Charles turns into a professional passenger, body relaxed, eyes kept deceptively focused on the road ahead. Sebastian driving is a sight to behold. Leaned back in his seat, lips slightly parted, tongue pressed against his teeth, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his forearm muscles flexed with every turn. He doesn't grip the steering wheel. He stirs it with the tip of his fingers, gently, until he takes a tighter corner and his fingers close around the leather in a careful grip. Charles' mouth goes dry, shifts in his seat. Sebastian grins the way he used to when he was winning for Ferrari, ferocious and invincible as if he knows what he's doing to Charles. As if he is doing it on purpose. Then he asks if Charles has any idea if they can pick up the cake from the bakery or if Bruno has enough food at home. Infuriating. It makes Charles bang his head against the windshield and parts his legs just a little bit wider to make the trip more comfortable without properly adjusting himself. He doesn't look again at Seb.
If they fuck about it later in the car, Charles' thighs splayed around Seb's lap, hand around his neck, no one needs to know.
obligatory otp asks! <- send me any number from here + a ship!
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kakusu-shipping · 2 years
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May I request a viktor humphries x reader
You absolutely can and I do hope you do not mind but I am going to use this one as an excuse to write down some soft Yandere Viktor Humphries thoughts
Just a bit of Practice
Vikor Humphries X GN!Reader (Reader in Bea's place as a Rancher)
In which the Slimeulation works as intended
Viktor's fingers made rapid movements across his keyboard, filling in lines and lines of code, running them, and then deleting them to replace with better strings. He'd been working on his Simulation, Slimeulation, of the neighboring ranches for years now. To help his fellow ranchers, of course, keep track of slime migration patterns, weather, highly populous areas where Tar are most likely to occur, and possibly rare slime spawns.
That was the original intent of the Slimeulation, at least.
Now, instead of mapping and charting all of his neighbor's land, he focused in on one, making absolutely sure he got down every detail of their land.
One may think he chose their ranch to simulate because it happened to be the most bio diverse, spawning nearly every time of slime, chicken, fruit, and vegetable known on the Far Far Range.
One may also assume he mapped out the entirety of their land without the new owner's knowledge to study the Ancient Ruins hidden deep in the property behind two locked Slime Doors, perhaps to unlock the secret of possible Far Far Range Natives long extinct.
Perhaps he was studying the near perfect weather conditions, or the abundance of materials hidden in the Dry Reef, or the spawn rate of rare bewildering Slimes such Twinkle Slimes and Party Gordos.
All of these assumptions would be wrong, however, as Viktor had gotten all that information by studying along side the previous owner, Hobson Twillgers, who had sense sold his property to move on to green pastures.
So then what, one may ask, was Viktor Humphries obsession with this particular ranch?
"Oh! Hello, Viktor." A voice greeted as the scientist, and amateur musician, booted up his Slimeulation for the 227th time today. He'd get it right this time he thought to himself as he pulled on his simulation goggles and entered his perfectly engineered world.
The first thing he saw as the simulation loaded in around him was the reason for his obsessive mapping of the ranch, perfect sculpting and detailing of the dried old reef and overgrown Slime Forest.
You.
You, oh you, oh so glorious you, with your ranching gear and vac pack and a large straw hat for the sun. You smiled over your shoulder at Viktor, a Tabby Slime held comfortably in your arms.
Even knowing it was a simulation, that you weren't really standing there, smiling brighter than the sun just for Viktor, greeting him like he was any old somebody you talked to daily, Viktor's cheeks burned red, his throat dried out, and he begun to ring his hands.
"H...Hey..." He'd practiced with you, this you, over and over to be more causal. Breaking down his usual Greetings and Salutations for a much more relaxed "Hey", sometimes a "Hello". One time a "Sup", that had not gone over well, as far as the data showed.
"Hey." You chuckled at him, releasing the Tabby you'd been holding loose into the corral filled with other grey cat-like slimes, who all proceeded to pounce the new guy. "What's up? I don't think you've ever actually visited me before."
He had, many times. You, this you, just didn't remeber. They'd been reset after every failed attempt. Days, Months, one time a year of simulated bonding wasted, down the drain, because of one little slip up, an argument, a miscommunication, a glitch in the code. Not this time. You'd be perfect this time.
"I thought it time I properly introduce myself." Viktor spoke, a little more clearly this time, "In... Person...." He trailed.
You hummed and tilted your hat back, looking up at Viktor. Despite knowing it wasn't really the real you, Viktor still felt the need to avoid eye contact, tangling his wingers together as you examined him, a trait that bled through every update, and though it put him on edge every time, he put up with it, for accuracy. For you.
You beamed and took a large, nearly falling down large, step forward, taking Viktor's hand in yours, "Well you'd be the first, you know! Not even Twilligers came back to meet me face to face, ya know. Guess that's why we move out to the Far Far Range, huh, to get space."
Viktor resisted every urge to grab you, to hold and hug and kiss you. This may be a simulation but there were still boundaries, rules. He had to work back up to that, even if he had it just yesterday.
"How 'bout some tea? I got cookies and jam too." You offered, turning tail and walking confidently to the small home plopped dead center in the middle of your ranch.
Viktor flexed his hand, the one you'd been holding moments ago. He slightly cursed himself for forgetting to take his gloves off. He then took a steadying breath, and followed you, "I-I wouldn't want to impose..."
He would, and he had, previously. But you'd always reacted better, insisted he stayed longer, when he hesitated to join you in the first place.
"No imposition, it'd be nice to have someone around for a bit." You stopped on the stairs to your home and looked back at Viktor, he rung his hands, avoiding eye contact, and continued to hesitate, just a little longer... just until you offered- "I've got Royal Jelly~"
Viktor snapped to look at you, eyes shining with interest. The look on your face made his ears burn as he quickly looked away, "W-Well, if- if you're offering..."
You smiled and turned, heading into your small home, making a call back for him to come on in, make himself at home.
Usually Viktor would be right on your heels into your small home. He would close the door behind himself, and bask in the gentle warmth of it all. He'd stare at your unmade bed by the window, the torn and hand mended pink slime plush. He'd be overwhelmed by your scent, taking a seat at your small ranch table, commenting on the fire slime sat snugly in the stove, keeping the room warm.
Yes, normally Viktor would be enjoying a lovely cup of herbal tea with an entire honey plort melted into it and a toasted bagel with royal jelly across from you, oh so sweet and radiant you by now. Instead he was staring at a pink slime that didn't quiet look right.
He watched it move much more artificially than the rest of the slimes, almost short teleporting rather than the usual gliding his slimes did. It appeared pixelated around the edges, jagged and harsh like glass, nothing like a slime should be.
Then it touch a pole, and that pole was gone, replaced with black nothingness that, like the slime, was horridly jagged at the edges.
Viktor shot up right at the sudden void he was facing. He took a step to the left, and despite his movement he stilled faced the broken nothingness dead on. He circled it, and it remained perfectly flat and ahead of him.
"Viktor?" You stepped back out of the house, seeking what was taking your visitor so long. You didn't seem to react to the broken world. Perhaps you were incapable of seeing it, being a part of the Slimeulation yourself.
"Ah, s-sorry I..." Viktor looked at the broken space again, then began to type on his wrist keyboard, "I a-actually have something urgent I need to get to..."
"Oh.." You sounded so incredibly disappointing, and Viktor wanted nothing more than to stay, or perhaps take you with him. But he couldn't. This you wasn't real. He had to remember that. "Alright.. Maybe.. next time?"
Viktor nodded, and pushed off the simulation goggles just as the machine shut down.
He leaned back into his chair, something was eating away his code, mostly the landscape, some of the slime's behavior patterns, and large chunks of textures.
You, or the data that made up the Slimeulation version of you, were safe. Triple encoded and backed up four times over. You'd be fine, and as soon as he got this strange glitch figured out, he'd be back to have that sweet honey tea and royal jelly bagel in your little too warm but just the right size home.
It wouldn't take long, Viktor Humphries, lord of jinxing himself, thought as he got up and stretched. He'd been working on the Simulation for hours, and his drones could only keep the lab running on their own for so long.
He'd get up, refill their water, check on his slimes and his research, perhaps put up a call on the range exchange, see if you, the real you, respond. How wonderful that would be, to get something from you, from your ranch, so far yet so near.
Viktor Humphries let out a long sigh as he stretched out his arms above his head. As soon as the simulation was perfect, as soon as he was ready, he'd go to your ranch, your real ranch, and have tea with the real you.
He just needs a bit more practice.
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hailsatanacab · 2 years
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Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne are Twins, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Mugging, Medical Torture, Vivisection Summary:
“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.”
His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.
She loved him, but she loved the League more.
Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more.
They loved their work more.
--
After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way.
Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant.
--
Chapter 7!! Chapter 7!! Chapter 7!!
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little-pup-pip · 2 days
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Hiii could I request a jester/clown moodboard, masc/neutral, 5-10 age range n no paci?
Definitely!!
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mulletmitsuya · 1 month
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i will post a gc tmr bcs it's valentine's day but it has nothing to do with valentine's day
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hungrydogs-if · 1 year
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so... faces. portraits. i can hear lizzo telling me it's about damn time.
i realized that i never made artbreeder images of the cast here. there's a very good reason for that (as in artbreeder makes me go absolutely ballistic) but i still want to share with you how i see my characters as i write them.
face claims if you will! i'll probably tackle the ai again some day, but i actually wanted to share this first lol.
ready to face the fabulous? let's go. i'll also post singular images under the cut for those who don't want to click endless links haha.
dane is very much levi stocke. this image is the one that made me pause and do that leonardo dicaprio pointing at my screen. i mean, come on, even the poses? my heart. just gotta remove the tattoos and shave the sides of the hair and there he be. ofc this man is like the ultimate face for wattpad mafia/gang stories but still fits as our little himbo.
mona has always looked like kehlani in my head, although her body shape is very different, the face is still very much alike. especially in this image (that still makes my heart go pitter patter), and this one as well. while mona's skin tone is several shades darker and tattoos are all black and white, it's still my go-to look when thinking of her.
since angel is gender selectable, they get two face claims. for m!angel, it used to be can yaman, but it switched to michele morrone when i was on my endless pinterest scroll the other day. it all changed with this image, which quickly found me this and this. just add a bit of gray in the hair and some depth to the skin tone that's m!angel for sure.
f!angel has been monica raymund for as long as i remember. i don't know where i first caught a pic of her but since the very beginning, she's been the face for f!angel. i think this picture is the one is most associated with her now, but this and this? chef's kiss, absolute perfection. switch the eye color to more prominently hazel and add those stray gray hairs and deeper skin tone again and you got yourself f!angel.
sam was a bit trickier to put a face to since they're so particular in my mind's eye, but i'm certain rain dove gets so very close, especially if they had red hair and more freckles. this picture for example, it has the perfect facial details (minus the eyes that should be green, and the hair that should be naturally red). there's also this image, and that's as close as i've gotten to finding a suitable face claim for sam, sadly. that face with this hair (although lighter in shade) and a slew of freckles all over and they would be perfect ngl.
and thirteen... well, i can't share their face before their helmet comes off in-game lmao. would ruin the mystique! just know they're on par with the rest of the squad.
i hope this hasn't ruined anyone's conception of them!! they aren't a 100% accurate of course, since the crew has scars, freckles, tattoos, moles, all that, but now you have something to add to the names <3
images under cut!!!
dane -> mona -> m!angel / f!angel -> sam
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mimicteruyo · 2 years
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This Mimic fic encourages kindness towards umbrellas.
Stray    
Word Count: 7200 Rating: G Characters/Ship: Sekibanki/Kogasa Tatara (+ Kagerou and some incidental human OCs) Summary: In which Sekibanki discovers that inviting unfamiliar umbrellas to one's home can result in a girlfriend. Fluffy slice of life.
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pastel-cat · 8 months
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I wrote a PhoenixFlare fic!
Title: Sparring Partners
Rating: E
Pairing: Dion/Joshua
Summary: Joshua comes across Dion alone in the training room, and asks if he would like someone to spar against.
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superiorkenshi · 2 years
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-Somewhere only we know-
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And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So, why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?
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