#//I felt like being sweet :)

[t0bey]

“Reunion at Dawn”

happy 5th anniversary, three houses!!!

[artuurle]

Woe, my Drainfolk headcanons upon yee

All my art and rambles under the cut because it's a whoooole ramble-y mess since i'm bad at. explaining my thoughts.

features characters in underwear but no nudity i promise

Okay so I tried my best to take a swing at this while also keeping these guys recognizable to the series. sorry if its a mess nmbnvbv.

I headcanon drainfolk the result of generations of normal humans warped from the influence of the drain which, similar to the rift, has properties that augments the creatures that exist near it, though the drain is much slower and a generational effect instead of the immediate- rapturous effect from the rift. Since the original population has been here for a good many of hundred years, they look incredibly different from average ggg humans (which also are unique against irl humans. looking at those inhuman skin tones) while still being directly related to them. Many traits developed were essential to help them survive their new lives in the drain ( claws, arm strength + length, growth cycles) since the place was incredibly hard to live in. Anatomy:

Drainfolk have very little sexual dimorphism - most of them all share the shorter and stout build and are covered in hair. the main differences are actually the fact AFAB individuals lack retractable claws and they tend to (usually) be taller and fuzzier on average). Drainfolk also display pads on the entire palms of their hands and slitted pupils. Development:

Drainfolk physically develop into adults at a very different pace than normal humans, while mental development stays the same. Staying incredibly small for most of their childhood with smaller growth spurts before entering a rapid period of growth close to adulthood. The sudden change in size causes a sudden shift to higher caloric intake and the occasional VERY CONFUSED teenager. The need to stay small for prolonged periods of time is because many places in the drain require you to climb in VERY dangerous areas, and the solution was to stay small as long as possible while your parents carried you until you were strong enough to climb around yourself.

Metamorphs:

Outliers in the drainfolk population- They tend to be around double the height of their compatriots and trade a lot of the heavier fuzz for a lighter coat and thicker skin. Their claws also grow longer as a form of defense.

Metamorphs are the term for drainfolk who after reaching adulthood, undergo a secondary growth spurt. This is caused by being thrust into various forms of responsibility and power- similar to how a dominant male orangutan will become larger or the dominant male fish will change size/gender if the large leader female dies. Either sex can become a metamorph, though its slightly more common in Afab individuals because of child rearing. This is also commonly seen in leaders of established groups of varying legality and in the eldest of a gaggle of an orphaned group of drainfolk after reaching adulthood. Any spot where the role of responsibility is shouldered is a role that can cause a drainfolk to become a metamorph.

Bonus:

Drainfolk even into their adulthood tend to climb up on people they deem close to them as a sign of affection or when they are scared / stressed for comfort. It is very common to see a drainfolk climb onto another the same size to the absolute annoyance or acceptance of the one being afflicted with the behavior. The behavior is very normalized in the drain but may come off as weird to people not aware of it.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[semisolidmind]

Random person getting mulled to death by Dogday: GET YO FUCKN DOG BITCH

Y/n: He don’t bite.

Random person bleeding out: YES HE DO-

i mean, if said random person hadn't gotten so close to his house, the dog wouldn't be mauling them, sooooo...

and as an aside; i imagine y/n doesn't know that dogday will occasionally attack people in the woods surrounding their home when they aren't there. y/n knows him to be against violence unless it's necessary (unlike their time in the factory, where he didn't have a choice), and the closest town doesn't really deliver newspapers out in the woods. so unless they pay attention to gossip when they go to work, there's no way for y/n to figure out that the supposed "monster" in the woods mauling people is their friend and housemate. there are cougars out there, it's probably just one of those.

and they know that dogday likes to hunt deer occasionally (and he sometimes eats them all by himself), so they don't suspect anything when he comes home covered in blood. he's just a little messy, that's all. they clean him off and welcome him back in, none the wiser.

[lesbicosmos]

something about charles's flirting with crystal compared to the 'platonic best mate' things he says to edwin

"we've met psychics before, but none as fit as you"

"it would be a shame if dandelions exploded out of your face. 'cause you know what? i think your face is pretty mint"

vs

"sorry, no version of this where i didn't come get you"

"you are the most important person in the world to me"

"there's no one else, no one else, that i would go to hell for"

[trekfacility]

:,,,,,,,,,)

[defiledtomb]

How did it go ? 👁👁

I FEEL ALIVE

[phalangemedes]

I kept this in my drafts cause I was gunna expand on it, but I dunno if I need to. Either way, I thought it was interesting that the refugee trio from Canaan are all just different aspects of Grief represented through the kaleidoscope of their personhood. Because mourning is a spectrum, no more or less vivid for the death being metaphorical or literal, and there’s been some weird hot takes that more or less emotive grieving is ‘strange’ or whatever, so, onward!

Judith is unable to feel her own emotions (or at least with any depth) because she's made herself an emotional void, due to training (Cohort AND Second expectations), repression and losing Marta. She was already constipated and that tipped her over to cutting her own throat so she’d emotionally starve.

The last emotive thing she had was oh captain my captain levels of obsession for the woman that rejected her romantically, DUTY, and with equal verve the self loathing for wanting that.

(Also she was being medically maltreated by BoE and then used as a Duracell so y'know, you can not like the woman for being an unsympathetic hypocrite but also, rough ol' time for Jodypops)

Corona has used the flamboyance of her emotions as a manipulation tactic since she was like.. 5 and oops it suddenly stopped working! The tits, the smiles and the twinkly eyes have no effect in camo land, if anything, they are tired of her shit and only “warm up” to her when she starts submitting to them in ways they understand (Re: BoE are a hierarchy and she is Not the top rung). She's also grieving Ianthe not wanting her (worse, choosing BABS) and failing to throw her Pretty Girl weight around as much as she used to, whilst cosplaying a Cav to feel worth something (habitual, comforting).

On top of that, she’s bouncing from pillar to post in an attempt to be desired because her worth is locked up in other’s perception of her. (She fails so hard to connect with anyone she starts chatting up G2deon's corpse like.. It's SAD even if she's Tridentarii heinous (affectionate insult))

And Camilla is forcing herself not to feel because she doesn't have time for a breakdown. She's tick listing how to “make things right” through torture (shock bracelet) being used as a means of coercion for Judith (also torture) having what was left of Pal taken away from her (I mean this literally and figuratively, because his skull, then hand, are hope AND HIM) ((likewise the BETRAYAL from a necro and a cav about it)) and being denied doing GOOD (denial of treatment of Judith). I think honestly she reacts the most MUNDANELY, by just... powering through, keeping busy, not thinking about it because then it'll be real.

And she doesn't let herself break until Paul, because she’s still trying to fix everything until the very moment it’s un-fixable. (And in some ways Palamedes takes the burden of it for her, by giving her the choice, the "it's okay, now, you can feel". All that time, bottling the HURT because she has to be useful because if she's not useful what's left? It's the vice of grief as you excuse yourself from the young woman you're caring for, it's locking the bathroom door, sitting in the bath and your body betraying you with the mother and fucker of a panic attacks. It's getting punched in the solar plexus because you turned around to make a comment and not only is that person gone, but they aren’t coming back.

None of them are any more or less tragic, but they are all acceptable and staggeringly normal forms of grieving.

[lunarharp]

uhh another modern au agott follow-up. They've gotten progressively sillier

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[dzozef-art]

i love how you draw joseph's hair!

thank you so much heres a joseph just for you

[unspuncreature]

happy 3am from the hospital :o) hysterectomy success

[kitkat13001]

hello my sweet angel bby may i get a tsukishima mood board pls 😔🙏🏽

HI TOKE FAVVV!! 🩷🩷 yes you may, hope u like!! this one was fun bc i got to get rlly picky w the images 🤭 never done anything for tsuki b4

event info! — pics from pinterest (not mine!)

[noctivagant-corvid]

happy one year since hideduo confession i need to be put down like a sick dog

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Evolving Truth of Ever-Stronger Will

YA contemporary in 2nd person

a teen’s abusive mother dies and they have to figure out how to heal and survive the final year before they turn 18 to stay out of the foster system, without CPS finding out

when they’re cleaning out their mother’s room, they find letters from their old foster parent who was planning on adopting them before their mother claimed them back - who is still searching for them, and they’re desperate to find her again

autistic, agender, demiromantic acespec MC, genderfluid love interest, SC with tourette’s

[julla]

briefly scrolled though the bigbang subreddit like recommended and - true, it definitely is active! which is fun. one of the first things i saw is that someone got into listening gd bc they knew him from the shoe world 😭😭 i mean that's just amazing lmao