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#either way!
downydig · 6 months
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Fun fact, the similarities between Jax from the Amazing Digital Circus and Raggedy Andy are NOT an accident! The creator of ADC absolutely LOVES Raggedy Andy, and she literally asked the voice actor for Jax if he could do a decent Raggedy Andy impression.
Not surprised! I think I’ve seen goose tweet about him before and! AH! Many little bits of raggedy are in there! Killing me killing me slowly!
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nylilcosmos · 6 months
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color practice w/ blade
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deerspherestudios · 5 months
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Okay, okay. I just, literally, I just finished playing day two and I came running to leave a comment.... BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY! AGJWFSHHWG There are no words to express how much I liked it, it's like God this is really wonderful! I didn't stop smiling all the time so much so that I think the smile is now permanent on my face, I loved, I really loved Mychel EVEN MORE! I don't think that was possible, this awkward cutie 💚💚💚 I'm giving her my heart, let her do whatever she wants with it. THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS WONDERFUL STORY WITH US ☺️💙❤️❤️💙
Aaa I'm glad you enjoyed your day with Mychael (while it lasted at least hahaha!) Thank YOU for playing!! :-D ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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g0nefischin · 1 year
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Catsune miku 
Inspired by @thunderc1an and @sootslash
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foxx-queen · 7 months
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so minthara's journal gave me a lot of feelings
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friday-answers · 8 days
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february finally answers, but how can you be sure it's not just an echo? the voice responds, copying and mocking your own words and pleads. if you're shouting back, february, you have to be louder than that.
the definition of love is so old-fashioned. in every language, i'll shout from the mountain tops how much i am in love with you, truly. if only people would know what i really meant by it. if only you really knew what i meant by it.
if you're shouting back, february, don't let it be dismissive. i am being clearer than i ever have been. you have to understand that i'm serious. i need you to understand.
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s-talking · 7 months
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⌘ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐎����𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘:
an ex-executioner originating from inazuma, known for his exceeding prowess in hunting down targets & mentoring pupils in close combat. having successfully put down many vision users in the name of the kanjou commission, min-jun has serviced the hiiragi clan for many long years, his name & talents becoming vastly feared among those who dared to oppose the shogun's decree. much to their sheer luck, however, hiiragi shinsuke  was eventually arrested & the vision hunting decree shut down, leaving the youkai to put down his talismans & lead a rather peaceful life... until he was approached by the fatui. finding their offer too difficult to refuse, min-jun eventually left inazuma & joined their ranks, becoming assigned to mentor their new recruits in ways of close combat. in due time, his talents were put to the test by the higher-ups & exceeding their initial expectations, the youkai became a perfect candidate for la signora's position, thus taking a seat among them as ' the mentor. ' he serves them faithfully until this day.
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⌘ 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:
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zmediaoutlet · 1 year
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happy wincest wednesday and happy 2023! reverse uno: what are your favorite ways for john to find out dean and sam are fucking in a universe where dean and john are ALSO fucking?
woooooo wincest wednesday uno games and everyone's a winner --
Except John, lol.
You know, all my wincest fic and all my Dean/John fic and all the Full House of Wincest I've done, and somehow I don't think I've ever written that scenario? How tf did that happen?
Part of it may be that I haaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAATE fics where John's even vaguely a shipper on deck -- even where he's like 'ah, Sam and Dean are too obsessed with each other but That's For The Best bc Thin Hunting-Related Justification' just never vibe quite right with me. I have very narrow parentheses in which I find John believable. (What a surprise, a hard canon stance from ol' z.)
But -- a John who's been fucking Dean doesn't have too much of a leg to stand on, does he. Except: he does, of course he does, he's the god-patriarch and his word goes. It depends, of course, on the type of Dean/John that's been going on, but I'll go with my version because it's mine and I like it best, haha: a largely unspoken helpmeet scenario, where it's just part of the overarching need Dean has for his dad's love and attention and calm and happiness, and where John knows that he's using Dean and knows that even if Dean loves it he's still ruining his son and, this is key, John chooses to keep doing it anyway because that's who John is, as a person. Dean the extension of his arm and the step under his boot and something beloved but also something useful and ignorable until it is time to use it. Not size-72 font obviously awful abusive but -- well. Canon levels of abuse, let's go with that.
SO given that: let's call it a wincest scenario where Sam's in his mid-late teens and wants to take up with Dean. Did he know about D/John, or suspect? My favorite version of weecest + dadcest is actually for Sam to be kind of oblivious about it, as he was oblivious to a lot of key things in his teens (as you gestured to a little in your answer) -- he wants Dean and his attention and his love but he's also a very strong-willed teenager and so he also just wants to get his rocks off and knows that Dean's willing, whenever they crack past that barrier. And Dean, already with that door blown open inside himself, can't help it -- because after all he knows he's good at this, and he knows that it does make people closer, and he loves Sam and wants Sam to be calm and happy too, and isn't it just -- easier? He'll leave John on a hunt well-drained and focused and come home to Sam all bitchy and missing him and saying stuff like he shouldn't make you hunt, you should be in school, and Dean sighs and he could argue but he could also thumb Sam's hip, and Sam'd shut up all big-eyed and hopeful and going, oh, can we -- and Dean can say something like, yeah, and missed you, Sammy, which is only true, after all. And it's good, and when Sam's snoring on the fold out couch Dean can shower and carefully thumb two loads out of himself and then call John and say how's the job, Dad? and not really -- think about it. It's just taking care of things, like he always does.
SO, given that: it's easy to have John walk in on them -- a hunt finished early, they're wrapped up in each other; it's easy to have a demon tell him, and he doesn't believe it but then he's been hearing a lot of stuff about his boys from demons, and they lie but also blah blah. I prefer small and undramatic, though, so what if instead it's that one day John's home and he's actually slept well for once and he's not hungover and he's just going through the paper at the table, and Dean's cleaning the guns like he's supposed to and Sam's doing homework like he's supposed to and John, not being an idiot or a monk, just -- picks up on a vibe. A look Sam gives Dean. A smile from Dean to Sam that John's had aimed at himself, in key moments, and he just -- knows, the way that sometimes you know things, and he's sitting there with the paper and his hands turn to fists.
He's NOT a shipper on deck. He's NOT thinking 'oh, The Things I Have Done To My Family, O Woe But Unforch That's The Way It Is.' I think he's not thinking at all, in the way that we can ignore deep horrors if we have to, and he closes the paper, and he says he's going out, and he takes Sam with him because -- he's the dad, he gets to -- and Sam's sullen in the passenger seat as they head to the gun store or to buy salt or whatever errand John's operational-matters mind invents, and they barely talk but John watches Sam as they go through the chores and gears are turning and he --
stops fucking Dean. Stops talking much to them at all, for a while. Takes jobs and sends Dean on jobs and makes Sam help. Work, and work, and work, and when they're alone once Dean's not being subtle about trying not to look at John, because he doesn't know what he did wrong but he must've done something wrong, and John can't say, and he knows it's hurting Dean but then again when has he ever not done something he thought was necessary because it might have hurt Dean? And Dean heals because that's also what Dean always does, but there's a crooked spot where the bone broke, and later when John's dead and Sam holds Dean on a night after and kisses his cheekbone, careful, not sure what's okay now that everything's even more fucked up, Dean keeps his eyes open on the ceiling and sees ghosts of older days.
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otterlyart · 2 years
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Just some thoughts before tonight’s episode.
The facts: We have two dead characters and Imogen going super nova. Imogen’s power was described as a “seed” within her.
What if the force of this strange moon-linked magic helps bring back Orym and Fearne? Or if it doesn’t, what if it’s blossoming affects the resurrection process.
Fearne is already Ruidus born, but what if returning to life near the power of that Ruddy moon is as good as being born under it.
Could Orym become Ruidus born?
After all his nickname was little moon.
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damnilovefaerghus · 5 months
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This is probably a silly question that makes no sense, but I wanted to ask, how do you write Rodrigue? I know you probably follow his canon actions in the games and take some of his dialogue, but what exactly *is* Rodrigue like when you write him? 👀 i kinda have a hard time visualizing him talking in my mind for example ^^U
Honestly I ask myself that every time I have to write this man, because the short answer is "I write him like a dad I think ???", and the longer answer is "fuck if I know, it depends on the scene, the characters he's talking to, the situation, the mood--"
so okay these are the rough steps I go through when I write Rodrigue:
I try to keep Rodrigue's in-game voice and speech patterns roughly in my head. Sometimes this means rereading the screenshots I took, and sometimes I actually listen to his voice lines to try to get a better sense of his intonation. I don't do this before EVERY chapter (or even that often), but I always like being able to hear the character say the lines I write.
I try to get a clear sense of what emotional state I want to portray for him at the start (and middle, and end) of the conversation.
I figure out who he's talking to, and what role he plays in relation to them. Example: although Rodrigue cares for both Felix and Dimitri, given Dimitri is his king, Rodrigue wouldn't joke around with him the same way as he would with Felix. He WOULD still show affection with Dimitri, but it would be a more respectful/low-key sort of care than making Felix wince with dad jokes.
Then I put all of those things together, start from the basic personality of "warm and affectionate (but respectful) father-figure who often provides guidance to others, but who can crack jokes or be more blunt around those he's comfortable with", and yolo it
I hope that helped! Also for comparison here are the steps I go through when writing Shez:
what would fighty himbo with one brain cell and ADHD say
say that
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askthesciencesquad · 2 years
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alphys. ginger. this is very important have you ever heard of spagetti before
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*And they’re off!
[START]
[NEXT]
[PREVIOUS]
[INDEX]
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“Well, that’s the beautiful thing about our business model.” 
-Halt and Catch Fire (2014-2017) season 2, episode 3: “The Way In” (dir. Jeff Freilich)
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englass · 2 years
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Hey! If you’re still taking requests, could I ask for soft-dark prompt #12 “Simply killing them will never be enough. Not after the way they hurt you…” I was thinking it would be a good fit for a Hurt/Comfort fic with John Seed x Reader (established relationship?) Thank you! :)
Ahhhh, I'm so sorry for taking so long to get to this, Anon!! And yes! If anyone ever wants to request anything from that list, then I can still do them. Just bear with my slow self, please 😅
Also, ngl this prompt got really personal… so apologies for that. Regardless of my heavy projecting, I hope it’s okay all the same, Anon 😬
12. “Simply killing them will never be enough. Not after the way they hurt you…”
- - -
Sometimes you wished John wasn’t such an attentive partner.
You thought you had been doing so well at hiding it. So good at keeping the shattering pieces of yourself hidden under the rug and away from the keen eyes of your partner. Making sure that the moment more cracks formed and more pieces splintered off that you were either hidden away or John was out of the house.
You felt bad enough when he took time away from his responsibilities with the Project (dubious as they were) to tend to you, no matter the occasion or issue. You didn’t want him getting into any trouble with his brother just because you were struggling.
Just because you couldn’t– can’t handle the sting, the absolute agony of that proverbial knife buried to the hilt within your abdomen. Twisted and jammed and unwilling to be pulled out, leaving you hunched and crippled and barely able to stand.
You didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to keep replaying the whole thing over and over again. Didn’t want to keep torturing yourself over every word and intonation and how it could have gone differently. 
You didn’t want to keep thinking about how their betrayal was somehow your fault.
You didn’t want to think about how little they truly cared about you. How little over two decades of friendship meant to them, how quick and merciless they were to throw it all away; especially when it meant everything to you.
How could they? After everything that had happened in those many years of friendship– all those low points shared, all those misadventures laughed about, all that trauma shouldered, all that love and care and time invested in one another, in your families and your lives…
How could they?
What did you do wrong?
Why did it always feel like you gave your all only to get nothing in return? And you know it shouldn’t be about what you can get in return – friendships aren’t about being tit-for-tat; you thought they were about respect. About mutual platonic love and care.
You were supposed to be chosen family. 
For them to treat you the way they have, to use you the way they have…
Without remorse, without an apology, without an explanation…
Well… you guess it shows how much they think of you.
It was just unfortunate that John had come home early while your thoughts were spiralling, curled up in a blanket on the couch, head buried in the back of it as you quietly sobbed and once more found yourself suffocated by the paralysing feeling of loneliness. The abandonment caused by someone you considered family wrecking you. 
Along with the invasive thought that, without your John, you really would have no one.
And it was that horrifying realisation that caused your shame at someone seeing you cry, no matter how raw and open you could be with that person, to lay low. To silent itself as you sobbed over the worries and anxieties that tore you down at the loss of a friendship that once meant so much to you. Regardless of how much it apparently meant to them.
John wasted no time in coming to your side the moment he saw you and the state you were in, taking a seat beside you on the couch before gently bundling you into his lap. Wide oceanic eyes frantically scouring over your huddled form as if searching for even the slightest scratch to your person.
But even with his soft words, tinged with accents of panic and poorly veiled rage at whatever had you so distressed, you couldn’t get the words out. Could barely control your breathing as the weight of everything appeared to just suddenly collapse on top of you in your moment of absolute weakness.
It’s only now, after the warm light of the afternoon has faded into the cool gloom of the evening, that you’ve managed to exhaust yourself enough to talk to him. Cuddled into John’s chest, face tucked into his neck and body securely sandwiched between him and the back of the couch, you tell him everything. Try not to miss a word or forget the smallest detail as you divulge the whole tale to him and how deeply it’s wounded you.
In some ways you're now glad that John never got the chance to meet your supposed best friend, dates and times never quite meeting up. 
… Although at this point you are nearly convinced they just didn’t care enough to meet him in the first place. 
In the lull between your shaky retelling and John’s soothing words of love and affirmation, the gentle caress of his fingers and lips against your skin, you begin to catch his fleeting murmurs of retribution. Of dark declarations and the sure promise of God’s righteous judgement. A judgement already signed and sealed by his most devout baptist.
“They don’t deserve you. They never have, or ever will. You’re far too good for them, sweetheart. You’re too good for me; but at least I know that. At least I know just how beautiful and remarkable of a person you really are, and I thank God everyday that you chose me. That you love me… it’s more than I ever thought I deserved.
“… You saved me. You are my salvation. And I will spend the rest of my life knelt at your altar. There is nowhere else I would rather be…
“That sinner will never know how blessed they were to have you in their life. I would kill to have so many years spent with you. To have you dedicate so much of yourself to me, as unworthy as I am of the privilege, would be… it would be all I’ve ever wanted. Oh, if I could have those years…
“Justice… atonement… it’s my job to weigh the souls of all who come to us at the Project. To measure their sins… to cleanse them until they are worthy of the paradise we have been promised.
“… but They will never be worthy. No matter what they confess to, no matter how many times they will confess to it, no matter how many times I have to pull it from Them, it will never be enough… There is no saving someone that doesn’t want to be saved, despite what Joseph thinks…
“Even simply killing them will never be enough. They don’t deserve such mercy. Not after what they have done to you. Not after the way they hurt you…”
He whispers it all in flittering tones against you, almost conspiratorial in how hushed his voice is as his fingers dance absent lines across your skin, opposite hand buried in your hair to hold you tight and hidden against him.
You don’t think he knows that you’re listening to him. Seemingly continuing to mutter to himself and running along with wherever his train of thought leads him, going quiet as he gets too lost and distracted by them.
Truly, you also can’t help but get lost in thought while listening to him: guiltily imagining the eerie glow of that red room in his bunker, how it paints violent lines across the dirty walls and John’s tools.
How it would cut similar lines across your old friend’s face.
The potential fear and horror that would mar their features, the helplessness that would fester in their breast when they realised just where they were and who had taken them, just whose hands their fate now belonged in. Trapped and pinned like a poor moth at the scale-covered hands of a cruel lepidopterist.
God, you can only imagine John's expression…
Whimpering you physically turn away from the vindictive scenarios your mind is desperately racing to conjure up, hiding yourself further in John’s chest and trying to think of other things. Like if what they did is something that you can reasonably forgive; if this over two-decades-old friendship is worth fighting for; if your self-worth is low enough that you can pick up the pieces and act like the hurt and disrespect and mental deterioration you have suffered at their hands is something you can overlook.
Your self-esteem may be low, but even you know that you deserve better than that. Far better than how they have treated you. 
… But can you really throw all those years away?
Each thought ping-pongs off the other, a constant back and forth that starts to wear at you the longer you hear them ricocheting. But with John’s soothing voice in your ear, his comforting warmth surrounding you and the hypnotising patterns and lines he draws across your skin, you quickly find the noisy sound of your thoughts fading. Gradually slipping into an exhausted daze that leaves them muffled. 
But still, some thoughts resound louder than others.
And they are outraged and indignant, aggressive and downright vitriolic. Encouraged by John’s whispers, they conjure those vile scenarios in abundance and demand retribution of their own, grab at the metaphorical throats of all your other submissive thoughts and shames them into heeling.
They spit and beg in equal measure for you to allow the one person who would be willing to do anything for your happiness to do this for you. To allow these nasty imaginings to become a reality. To allow John to enact whatever punishment he deems fit in defence of you and your honour; in his wholehearted bid to protect you.
You are weak and unintimidating. Delicate as a petal in your soft and subdued nature; fragile at the whims of your gentle and empathetic heart. 
Ultimately, you are powerless.
But John isn’t.
You have seen firsthand the type of power he wields, and although you have never approved of his work and the means in which he conducts it you do acknowledge it. You acknowledge that it also grants you a level of power you are not familiar nor comfortable with, by proxy.
A power and influence that your wounded thoughts are desperate for you to take advantage of. 
He loves you.
He wants to protect you. 
He would do anything for you.
Let him. 
It is shameful how long you entertain the thought.
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just-puddding · 1 year
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Rin week 2022 day 1- Everybody lives/ Nobody dies
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I would like to commend Rhonda for joining Mr. Benedict in the first place. Now, this is not to judge any of the characters, but, imagine, that you are a young orphan who has just been through several levels of an extremely weird test, only to find out they were designed by Some Guy and his adopted daughter who is a bit older than you but extremely blunt and intense (And possibly a random guy who looks like he could maybe be trustworthy or maybe mug you in a dark alley but overwhelmingly looks incredibly sad that is just s t a n d i n g t h e r e, depending on the time frame), and then all the "adults" in this situation (Or, at least, older and hopefully more knowledgable than you) tell you that the world is going to be taken over by some ambiguous entity who is using the radio to brainwash people.
Think about this.
I know that the kids had to do it, too, but when Rhonda joined, the Benedicts weren't an actual team yet. They were still in the beginning stages, with less experience and less information than by the time Reynie and the others show up. Can you imagine if they had Number Two run the cheating trick during the first tests? And if this was before Milligan arrived, then either she or Mr. Benedict would be running everything on their own, so, a lot less smoothly, and I bet less of the children respected her when she was closer to their ages. Mr. Benedict likely wouldn't have been able to kick all the kids out of the test, once they started crying and things. Why do you think it was Number Two and Milligan's job?
Like, the Mr. Benedict and co. that Rhonda had to make the decision to trust were a lot less trustworthy-seeming than the one we meet. So, good job to her for seeing them for who they were, instead of being freaked out by their strangeness.
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aparticularbandit · 7 months
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Okay but.
If Ryoko is Junko.
Why are her eyes red when she's Ryoko and blue when she's Junko.
I mean, we can play the Red Oni, Blue Oni trope if we want, but like.
Which one of them is wearing contacts.
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