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#logicality fanfiction
Sick Day
words: 1138 universe: college au characters: Logan, Patton pairings: platonic Logicality (can be read as pre-romantic) warnings: illness a/n: wow! a sanders sides fic! i haven’t done one of these in, like, seven months! i’ve been hanging onto this idea for a long time. the idea came from a good friend of mine, and i’d actually written out the beginning months before i finished. i’d abandoned this idea for a while until a few weeks ago, when i realised my idea worked quite well for a short story assignment i had to do for my creative writing class. so, yes, i am submitting a piece of sanders sides fanfiction for a college class. my professor won’t notice, right? as a note, because the harry potter series is featured briefly in this fic, i want to make it very clear that i, as a trans person and as someone who isn’t stupid, do not support j.k. rowling one bit. i needed a book, and i didn’t feel like making one up.
In the fifteen years during which Logan Lawson had attended school, he never missed a single day due to a measly cold or stomach bug. After all, if he wanted to become an astronomer, he had to make sacrifices to continue on that path. He had been taught to tough it out; after all, there was always a chance that he could miss something important. And thanks to his persistence, he never had.
So when he woke up one morning and felt as if he was on fire, he hardly thought anything of it. He simply got out of bed and went about his normal routine. He dressed himself in a white collared shirt, a dark blue sweater, and a pair of khaki pants. He headed into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror, combing one hand through his hair in an attempt to make himself presentable. Satisfied, he wasted no time in washing his face and brushing his teeth, before coming into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. His roommate was already there, eating a bowl of cereal.
“Good morning, Logan!” he chirped.
“Hello, Patton.” Logan winced internally at how sick he sounded. I’m fine, he told himself. He took his thermos from the cabinet. Maybe he didn’t even notice.
But judging by the concern that crossed Patton’s face, he’d clearly noticed. “Are you okay? You don’t sound too good.”
“I’m fine,” Logan insisted, taking the pot of coffee out from under the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup. Unfortunately for him, he was overtaken with a coughing fit.
“You don’t sound fine,” he argued. “You sound like you’re sick.”
“So what?”
“So you should take today off, so you can recover. You’ll be miserable if you go to school.”
“I’ll be fine,” he told Patton. “I’ve gone to class sick plenty of times.”
He looked shocked. “That’s not healthy!”
“Well, I have to go to class. What if I miss an important lesson?”
“Then you can ask your professor or one of your classmates for the notes!” Patton pleaded desperately. “Logan, please. Your well-being comes first.”
He opened his mouth to refuse, but before he could even process it Patton had picked him up and was carrying him into his bedroom bridal-style. Logan struggled, but his roommate didn’t let go until they reached his bedroom. He set Logan down on the bed.
“I’m gonna need you to change into your pajamas,” Patton told him.
“My pajamas are dirty.” He had planned to do his laundry today after his classes.
“Then I’ll let you borrow some of mine.”
“Won’t they be too big for me?”
“It’s better than nothing. You wait right here.” Patton left the room, closing the door behind him.
As soon as his roommate left, Logan sprang to his feet. I have never missed a single day of class in my entire life, and I refuse to do so now.
He scrambled over to the window and thrust it open. He began to clamber through the half-open window. His head and torso fit through the gap well enough, but he began to rethink his plan as he felt his rear get stuck in the gap. He desperately wiggled his body in an attempt to move forward.
“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind him, and Logan felt his heart sink.
Curse my voluptuous posterior! He felt something tugging at his legs and just let himself go limp, utterly exhausted from his escape attempt. In no time, he was back inside and face to face with a very displeased-looking Patton.
“Logan, I’m trying to help you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I made you angry.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed.” He sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples.
What a Dad thing to say. Only he isn’t my father. He’s my roommate. Why does he even care?
 “I’m just trying to take care of you, Logan. Everyone gets sick sometimes. You can’t just tough it out. Sometimes, you just need to take a day to let yourself be vulnerable.”
“But…”
“No but’s. You’re going to stay here. And I’m going to stay with you all day.”
“You have class,” he objected.
“I can always ask for the notes, remember?”
“We aren’t friends. You have no reason to care whether I stay here or not.”
“Yes, I do.” Patton looked him in the eyes. “Maybe we’re not friends. Maybe we’ll never see each other again when we move out of this dorm. But friends or not, everyone deserves to rest when they’re sick.”
Logan didn’t respond. He simply grumbled in defeat, which seemed to satisfy his rather pushy roommate.
“I know you won’t. I’ll make sure of it. Here, I brought you some PJs.” He handed him a set of messily folded flannel pajamas that he’d set on the bed.
“You change into those. I’ll give you some privacy, but you’d better not try and leave again.”
He gave Logan a stern look and stepped outside the room, shutting the door and leaving him alone again. Big mistake. He moved toward the window as quietly as he could. He began to open it, intending to create a larger opening for himself to escape easier. However, he failed to take into account the whoosh sound it made when he opened it. Patton opened the door again, clearly disappointed.
“Again?”
“It was worth a shot.”
“It absolutely wasn’t.” He crossed the room and shut the window.
“I don’t wanna do this, but I’m gonna have to stay here while you change. I’ll look away, don’t worry.” He turned to face the wall.
“You really won’t leave me alone, will you?” Logan remarked as he undressed.
“Nope!”
He sighed and folded his clothes, setting them aside and putting on Patton’s pajamas. He had to admit, they were very comfortable. “You can turn around now.”
Patton faced him again, looking pleased. “Thank you! Now, you get into bed.”
Logan obeyed. He would never say it aloud, but he was utterly exhausted. He had never liked having to trudge through the day when he was sick; it only made him miserable. His escape attempts this morning had only drained him of energy, even faster than a full day of classes would.
Patton took the chair from Logan’s desk and pulled it up beside the bed. “Why don’t I read you something?”
“Why would you?”
“It’s what my mom used to do when I was sick. You can pick the book.”
“Alright. First book of Harry Potter?”
“Sure!” He took the book off the shelf and sat down, beginning to read. The more he read, the more Logan started to feel his eyelids grow heavy. Before long, he let them flicker shut. Maybe, he thought, as he began to drift off to sleep, it’s alright to let myself rest.
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Danny died young. That wasn't what made him powerful. No, but it was part of it. His obsession was Protection due to that being one of the only forms of love he ever received. His parents swearing to protect him from monsters that they never found and his sister protecting him from his parents more...extreme actions.
He died at 6 and if there was one lesson he had learned from his short life, it was that to love was to protect and to be loved is to be protected.
So Danny, ever the explorer, had spent another 6 years after death wandering around the zone and saving people. One day he slipped out of the Infinite Realms and into a new reality but he didn't expect to see a kid around his own age dressed in black and red.
The kid jumped from rooftop to rooftop, doing flips and handsprings with a small smile on his face. Danny stared at him wide eyed while standing frozen on the ground like an idiot. Just like that, Danny developed his first crush.
Following behind the kid was a large man in a gray and black outfit. Supervillian? He watched as this guy jumped from rooftop to rooftop running after the kid.
Danny almost blasted the guy right then and there if it wasn't for the kid turning around and talking to him. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly polite but Danny needed to know if he needed to rescue his crush this kid. Luckly it didn't come to that as "Batman and Robin" discussed a case and left.
Later, back in the IR, Danny was caught by Kitty while he was picking flowers. Upon asking what he was doing he stated the obvious. This of course, led to Kitty following Danny back to Gotham and getting front roy seats to Phantom popping his head up from the rooftop while Robin was running and startling him.
Robin got into his battle stance alongside Batman, all the while Danny didn't ride up from the roof any farther than his shoulders. Danny was too nervous to say anything and just blushed before he chucked the bouquet at Robins feet and bolted.
Robin jumped back, fully expecting the object the kid threw to be a weapon or explosive of some kind. Even after realizing they were flowers and the other kid was gone they still suspected it might be a trap.
Eventually they brought the glowing flowers to the batcave where they were examined. Alfred took the liberty of putting the ones that weren't being examined in a vase.
"I don't get it. Was he trying to send a message? I don't even recognize any of these flowers, what was he trying to tell us?"
"If I may, Master Tim." Alfred interrupted the boy, "Is it possible he gave you flowers for another reason? One more...mundane?"
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Aka Danny gets a big ole crush on BTAS Tim and the other ghosts coo at Danny for "baby's first crush"
The bats are never normal so they're absolutely convinced Phantom is up to no good
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daftmooncretin · 3 months
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if captain kirk irresponsible? why huge baby cow eyes???
if captain kirk bad captain? why-
you thought i was gonna talk about his voluptuous titties fat ass sparkling personality and unflinching moral character ? no.
if you say kirk is a bad captain i will kill you. I will shoot you into space like they did to bill shatty when he wouldn’t shut tf up about going to space
except unlike bill shatty ill send you up naked and defenceless into the vast chasm of space your lungs will explode and your eyes will fall out or some shit (i saw that in a doctor who episode)
kirk drift is getting out of hand and my response to this is ending all kirk drifters and repopulating the earth with kirklophiles such as myself and my dad paul.
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sufjeringstevens · 4 months
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Cant wait to see my favorite traumatized queen aelwyn abernant in fantasy high Junior year.
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just-want-fluff · 1 year
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are sander sides people still alive here?
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moss-sprout · 5 months
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Does anyone want to give me their favorite Sanders sides fanfics?? And don't be modest if you wanna recommend me 30 fics or fics you wrote that's fine I'm just looking for stuff to read rn :3
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mysticsublimeperson · 1 month
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I want to express my frustration because... im trying to write some time travel Merthur fanfic as one does...
and I keep hitting my head against the same wall. Because just in case you didn't know England SUCKED before imperialism and colonialism.
Not that that made it better but, the English isles didn't have a variety of fruits or vegetables, the did have meat and fish and salt I think, but no sugar or way of producing it but honey if I remember correctly.
And admittedly climate change is a pain in the ass, but in medieval times the winters probably consisted in huge blizzards and freezing for 4 months.
They didn't even had tea!!!
All the good stuff its because of colonialism which is horrible for the world but whatever.
Im trying so hard to ignore this facts... to be free and write about silly angsty boys but I needed someone to know how difficult it is.
Because Merlin having lived in a 21 century would have spent since the 16th drinking bloody tea, and now he is back in time and doesn't have tea, doesn't even have sugar, it's a pain in the ass to get milk, and he can't even get his favorites foods because the fruits and vegetables aren't even evolved yet.
BECAUSE YES! All of the greens have suffered a tremendous amount of change because of selective farming!! so even if there were apples back there, they probably wasn't the same apple, probably weren't even half as sweet as they are now a days!
Same with animals, and plants. Many of the species have gone extinct but they existed back then. And im dying for a chance to bring this into the fic, to prove just how difficult the transition it's, but a the same time, it doesn't matter right? not really.
bUT I NEEDED TO VENT A LITTLE SO thank you for listening to my rant.
Also im not even a history girly, im an art babe, so all of this I know by logic and assumptions from my art history clases, and my hyper fixation, so obviously take everything with a grain of salt.
((It's just that I was cooking and I was trying to think which ingredients were available at that time to make the most simple dish but no, there was almost none, no spices, no tomato, I think the had cabbage, and like broccoli because its the same plant, but probably wasn't evolved into all of the different versions we know, they had beans, and lentils I think, the potatoes come from South America, so no potatoes, the had bread but what kind of bread??? sO YEAH, this is my head.. all the time))
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chernabogs · 26 days
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ERLKÖNIG
Inc: Malleus (/Reader later on), Reader/Prefect, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and a lot of fae who should not be in this dimension yet somehow are. Wc: Roughly 9k (Currently sitting at chapter 2/23). Warnings: Violence, reference to war, kidnapping, rituals that fae allegedly did in mythology (wild), psychological horror, body horror (not until much later), and the boys are fighting... a lot. Relies heavily on ancient Celtic and Welsh lore (Tam Lin, Thomas the Rhymer, and Oisin I owe u my life) Summary: Your first encounter with the fae was not in Twisted Wonderland, but rather on the coast of a village your grandmother once lived in—where stones bit into your bare feet and the water poured into your lungs as you were pulled to a world so different from your own. It was by cunning alone that you managed to escape, having since pushed those memories aside. But the fae do not forget—not even when you cross dimensions once more—and as Beltane looms, the time for collecting is near.
Chapter 1 (Prologue) below the cut. Check out the work up to chapter 2 here!
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.
-  La Belle Dame sans Merci, Keats
19??, Dunhill, Ireland. October.
There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. After all, why else do we face horseshoes upright, or close our blinds when the sun begins to set? We did not learn to play mute when we hear our names get called at night for no reason, nor did we discover on a whim that blackbirds circling are harbingers of ill outcomes.  
Your grandmother was a woman of superstition. Because she lived in Dunhill, Ireland, you very rarely had the opportunity to see her growing up. This didn’t mean that you weren’t occasionally shipped out to arrive at her doorstep for a few weeks at a time over the summer months.
Your memories of her appearance are mostly flashes of the few moments you saw her. Knotted joints on her body, silver hair hidden behind a headscarf she always wore, and the way her shoulders would stoop with each shuffling step she took. What you remember more vividly was the way she acted when the two of you went out. Her trembling hands—Parkinson’s, you think your parent may have mentioned—would always press an iron nail into yours to put in your pocket before you departed.
“They like to wait on the coastlines,” she had murmured when you asked why she gave this to you. “And they’ll like you the most.”
She would not offer any further information, nor would she let you out until the nail was securely tucked away. Despite how slowly she would move on your many walks along Benvoy Beach, you never once failed to miss the way her sharp gaze would always be fixated on the unruly seas beyond.
She dies when you’re ten years old. Her funeral is a vivid affair. Your grandmother’s humble home has been transformed into a centre of traffic within a matter of hours since her passing, barely giving your family a moment to breathe despite catching the red-eye flight earlier that day. People you have never seen before shaking your small hand and offering their condolences. The strong fragrance of unknown flowers and cheap perfume fills each room, suffocating out any last semblance of your grandmother that may have still lingered. It feels more like they’re spitting on her memory than honouring it. You know your grandmother—she is, was, a quiet woman, and not one for all this pomp and circumstance.
Perhaps this is why no one notices when you sneak out and down the rocky hills.
You slip on several rocks and scrape up your hands really good by the time your feet hit the familiar sandy beach below. With the way the sun is beginning to set, the waters seem to be a wine-red color, swirling in their chaotic fervour to reach the earth you stand on. You pause to take several breaths before kicking your shoes off and stepping forward into that hungry sea.
Your parent will be furious at you for dirtying up your formal garb, but this isn’t at the forefront of your mind right now as your eyes slide shut and you stretch your arms wide. You feel the wind rush along your body and the fragrance of salt overtake you as you spill your grief into the vast waters, letting it mix and swirl into that abyss for a moment of catharsis.
It’s when the wind carries the scent of something pungent that your eyes snap open again. The foulness is brief, and for a moment you write it off as simply a byproduct of the ocean, until it returns again stronger than before. It smothers the brine and has your head turning to look around for the source. You look over your left shoulder at the empty beach around you. The sun continues to set, and your gaze tracks the path of a gull flying overhead before you look over your shoulder once more.
This time, someone is waiting.  
There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. The reason why we are scared of things that try to look like us, why we try so hard to ward them off, is because we know that anything that wants to be like a human certainly has no good intent in their heart. This is the case for the figure you see standing on the beach.
They’re wearing the same dark funeral garb you had seen the others in your grandmother’s home wearing. A wide-brimmed hat sits upon their head to conceal most of their features, although you can see scarlet hairs peeking out, and their hands appear to be clasped behind their back as they stand stoically ahead. Despite the winds that bite at your cheeks, not a single scrap of fabric on the figure’s body moves. It’s as though they’re cut from a painting and placed in real life.
You both observe each other in silence. You can feel your body locking up as your mind chants to you wrong, wrong, wrong, over and over again like a mantra. Your right hand drifts down to your pant pocket—you did not take a nail with you before you left the home.
They like to wait on the coastlines, and they’ll like you the most.
Your breath catches in your throat.
The figure smiles—black, sharp, and not quite human. 
Something in your gut tells you to run and you, even as a rebellious child, do as you’re told. Your body twists around to scramble towards the rocks as your feet slip in the wet sand. You completely discard grabbing your shoes in your haste to get away, fully accepting the agony that the stones ripping into your soles will bring as consequence.
You don’t get very far. Whatever is on the beach with you is far quicker than you will ever be. Within moments of you turning, its cold fingers dig into your shoulders. You scream—cry—as the figure leans down and the pungent aroma of rotting fish emanates with each breath it exhales. You thrash and twist in its grip until you face each other, and you lock eyes with her.  
She looks exactly as she did the last time you saw each other. Same knotted limbs, same silvery hairs, same stoop of her shoulders.
She stares down at you. The wind whips the loose strands of her hair around her face, and her eyes are the cloudy blue of the dead as something begins to claw in your mind. You watch as her thin and cracking lips form the syllables to your name—but it’s lost to the roar of an ever-cacophonous sea. The ground surges up around you, wrapping thorns—thorns? —around your legs. They bite into your skin, draw ruby gems from beneath your frigid flesh, and when you lift your head again, your grandmother merely continues to wear her blackened smile at the sight.
You cry out once more, but just like your name, your pleas are stolen away by the winds.
Everything lasts all but a few moments before the sea finally reaches what it has been clawing for. 
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ccycloneblogging · 1 month
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Idk way but seeing catnap chasing dogday is quite funny.
But idk way but I can see player/angle. Just standing there like it a normal day like there not even trap in the factory
I had a lot of fun drawing that little chase, but you are also so right.
In fact, that inspired me to actually write some fanfiction! All below the cut, but sadly no drawings to go along with it (for now).
"Angel!!!" It was a screech, mixed with a pitiful whining and another plee for help.
Only to be promptly followed by heavy footsteps and the sound of furious hissing.
Angel gave a heavy sigh, leaning against one of the upright picnic tables as they simply watched the scene before them.
DogDay, a small cartoon dog with sunny orange fur and a personality to match, was bouncing around. Desperately, he was trying to avoid the large purple paws of the feline chasing him down. Every clawless swipe had missed so far, but the cat's aim was getting better.
"Angel, Please!!!"
Angel sighed again, raising a hand to rub their temples. Two hours. Two hours ago, Angel had first found this little pup handing in a rotting cell. Two hours ago, they freed him and returned his legs. Two hours ago, their life was quiet.
They had begrudgingly allowed DogDay to follow them, concerned the pup would be helpless. They were pleasantly surprised to see he could handle himself, but his looney behavior leaved much to be desired. Simple tasks became jokes, stealth was no longer an option, and Angel was almost positive they could hear a faint laugh track playing every so often.
The worst part?
Ever since they freed the dog, CatNap became unpredictable. Ollie had warned them that this monstrous cat would hide in the shadows and hunt them, but this? This wasn't something any of them had expected.
CatNap gave a rather loud hiss, lunging forward with a powerful pounce. The orange pup was helpless, unable to dart to the side this time, and was tackled to the ground.
The two toppled over, again and again as they came to a stop on the hard paved floor of PlayCare. Once more, CatNap returned to a smaller size like DogDay, though he had him pinned to the ground.
DogDay wheezed, trying to force air back into his lungs. It wasn't easy, as CatNap firmly sat on his chest.
"Apologize." CatNap's voice was distorted, thanks to his voice box being broken long ago. His white eyes narrowed, his tail thrashing.
"You took my legs."
"You lost our game. You knew the risks."
"But you chained me to a wall! And left me there!"
"I came back for you." The cat huffed, his purple ears flat against his head. "It kept you safe from the minis. Or so... I thought it would."
"Angel!" The dog whined, tilting his head up to spot the human a few feet away. Without hesitation, he shot them the most pitiful looking puppy eyes he could manage.
Two hours of this.
Angel would have theorized that CatNap was simply territorial, but frankly? They didn't need to guess. Yes, CatNap wanted to serve the Prototype. Yes, horrible things occurred and he made efforts to stop Angel from cutting off the red gas.
But CatNap made no attempt to hurt them.
He watched them running around, only providing small obstacles to stop them - which only encouraged DogDay's wackier side to show more. Angel was convinced that this cat, though loyal to the prototype, had his heart set towards something more.
"You two are acting like children." They frowned. They shouldn't be scolding their enemy - if they could even call CatNap one. "If you two are going to do this, can you at least play a little quieter?"
"I thought he had died!" CatNap hissed. "You stole him from me! I thought -!"
"...What?" This got DogDay's attention as he snapped his head back to look up at the cat. "Angel freed me, and we were chased around by the minis for a bit. They saved me."
"I... I saw the human." CatNap's frown deepened as he flexed his claws. "I needed to see if they harmed you, so I went to your cage. I found minis, eating and bloodied orange fur scattered around the cell. I found your belts, torn and cut. I thought..."
"Oh, Moonbeam..." DogDay's voice softened, reaching over to the cat to gently pull him in for a hug.
Angel rolled their eyes again.
At least Huggy had been simple. Hungry beast, shove off catwalks. Miss Delight? Hungry creature who went insane? Smash into a wall.
But CatNap? He seemed to love only two things. The prototype, and this odd dog. Even the severed legs hadn't been an issue. They were in the next cell over, casually walking around on their own. DogDay hadn't experienced any pain reattaching them. The belt on his waist and some torn fur were the only signs that he had been ripped in half to begin with.
It didn't make sense to the human, and it certainly wasn't adding up how this cat needed comforting from the same one he had torn and held captive - or even why the dog was providing such tender moments so easily.
CatNap looked furious, still trying to stare daggers at the human. Though... It was impossible to take him seriously as DogDay nuzzled into him. Even more so when a soft purr escaped the cat.
Whatever.
So long as the cat wouldn't try to kill them, and Angel could escape this hellhole, they wouldn't ask any further questions. All they really wanted was to go back home and sleep in their own bed, preferably away from any sort of cartoon.
...Though deep down? Angel had a feeling that dream would be impossible now.
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Helllo i Love your art more than i love donuts and thats ALLOT.but my boy lucifer can have babys,like i dont even know how that works!make it make sense! I just wanna say thank you again for curing are boredom👍🏻
You are SO right that is high praise indeed! I'm honored! =D So here. Have a donut! 🍩🍩🍩 As for Luci, let us turn to the world's favorite 700k+ words old man fanfiction that is The Bible (tm) as according to their lore, it's been canonically stated that angels are genderless for they are beings made of the Pure Holy Spirit and- Holy SHIT! What do you know??? Our dear depressed duck dad was an angel himself and in some depictions Lilith is infertile as was her punishment for her freedom! The more you know! -Bubbly💙
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(LMAO. My guy's been traumatized. Once is enough XD)
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thatfilthyanimal · 3 months
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Megamind Rules / Megamind Vs The Doom Syndicate is NOT made by AI
Listen y'all what we're NOT going to do is make shit up and accuse the writers of Megamind Rules / Megamind Vs The Doom Syndicate of using AI to make the scripts. I've been following them on twitter since before the show was even announced; they are against AI as it directly impacts their livelihoods and there was an entire team of writers for the show/movie. Just because you don't like the concept or animation isn't enough reason to just blatantly lie; Brent Simons, Alan Schoolcraft, Eric Fogel, and the rest of the team for sure put their hearts into it. It's not their fault they got such a small budget that makes it look crunchy. The Doom Syndicate were also ALWAYS a concept that existed; they were enemies removed from the original film late enough that they're all over the Art Of book and the 2010 video games. And YES Megamind is isolated and awkward, but the existence of the Doom Syndicate in his past is NOT impossible by any means-- it is entirely possible to feel absolutely alone in a large group of people that make you feel inferior or unsafe. When he said in the movie "it was me and Minion against the world" what he means is Minion was his main support growing up. It would be impossible to have no adults in his life even isolated in a prison, and other villains would absolutely be trying to use his smarts to their advantage. Again, just because the animation is crunchy is no reason to just make shit up and blame the writers of using AI; perhaps the AI is picking up that plot because THIS CONCEPT ALWAYS EXISTED and has fueled countless fanfiction and fan rp blogs that said AI models stole from. :) Thanks for playing!
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remusmoonshinezine · 1 year
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okay but can we set up a fanfic author appreciation day (if there isn't one already) because there are so many of y'all out there who put your absolute heart and soul into your works and it's honestly incredible
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bambiraptorx · 10 months
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I know that logically Draxum probably got away with making the mutagen and oozequitos because he was very careful about hiding his research and whatnot, but the much funnier explanation is that he's already so weird that when he rolled up to an academic conference two months after his lab exploded the first time with his 200 page paper on how he's going to bioengineer mosquitos to be the size of his hand (without giving a single reason as to why he wants to do this), the most he was met with was maybe a few raised eyebrows and a couple people wondering how he still gets grant money
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oceanatydes · 1 month
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hello writer friends do you have any advice on how to get back to writing fics when you feel paralyzed by perfectionism
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transexualpirate · 6 days
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h el l o ¿ So i am coming BACK to my cringy fucking roots embracing them and WRITING an ACTUAL MULTICHAPTER FANFICTION. THAT'S RIGHT BABY I AM UNSTOPPABLE NOW. but english is NOT my first language and i am Scared of posting something that sounds very weird on ao3 and getting roasted so bad i get sent to the moon and starve to death. so this is me humbly requesting aka begging on my knees. would anyone with a better grip on the english language than me mayhaps be willing to proof read some stuff. it's a sanders sides super hero/villain au in a nimona inspired fantasy setting but the story itself bears undeniable similarities to x men comics. also some unhealthy codependent dukeceit some cute logicality and classic enemies to lovers prinxiety. uhhhh no minors because there are some adult scenes and also remus is there. also remy and emile! truly i only left out thomas and nico anyways pleeeeeease
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my toxic trait is bookmarking every ao3 fic i’ve ever read
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