#amodal
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Vacamodal / Inmodal / Interamodal
An Intersex individual who has no modality, this may be because of their Intersex variations, experiences, or for any other reason. Similar to Vacagender, Intermodal, Ingender, and Amodal.
The flag takes inspiration and elements from all of the similar terms' existing flags. The purple and yellow represent being Intersex, the black ring represents the lack of any modality, and the green references being outside of any modality frameworks or language systems.
Requested and defined by anon! Free to be used by anyone anywhere as always, but since this is Intersex-exclusive please be chill about Intersex experiences if you're perisex.
Taglist - @radiomogai, @revenant-coining, @interarchive
#vacamodal#inmodal#interamodal#gender modality#intersex#intersex flags#mogai pride#liom pride#mogai community#liom community#mogai friendly#liom friendly#mogaisafe#liomsafe#mogai#liom#vacagender#intermodal#amodal#ingender
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Do you know an amodal flag?
Here is one! - 💙💚
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Hello friends! Clearly I am behind! I took a nose dive in terms of motivation for art BUT I enjoy doing the character sheets I've been doing so I do hope to finish them eventually! In the meantime: At the Mountains of Dadness!
Dadtober list by rubbish-convention under the cut! (Ft pics of my cat, Meryl, who was named not after the actress but specifically after this fuckin guy)
#love atmod soooo much#atmod#amod#at the mountains of dadness#hildy russet#stud stampler#stuart stampler#meryl streep#meryl streep dndads#robert wilson#dndads#dungeons and daddies#fanart#digital art#loomart#dadtober#dadtober 2024
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Back w my Twitter mphfpc posts
#last one is a reference to when Emma judged Jacob’s music taste in AMoD#unless I imagined that scene#mphfpc#emma bloom#enoch o'connor#noor pradesh#millard nullings#ricky pickering#fiona frauenfeld#hugh apiston#jacob portman#horace somnusson#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#good lord that is a lot of tags#jillard#mphfpc twitter
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Thought I'd post our pfp + header! Since Mic will be in charge of illustrating for the comic itself, I decided to take on these!
-Mize
Edit: also! If you're able to view the web version of our blog I think it is very silly and fun!
#at the comic of dadness#at the mountains of dadness#atmod#dndads#dungeons and daddies#amod#amod dndads#dndaddies#hildy russet#meryl streep#meryl streep dndads#stud stampler#stuart stampler#robert wilson#robbie wilson
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a quartet of hildys
#dndads#dndads odyssey#dungeons and daddies#dungeons and daddies odyssey#at the mountains of dadness#mountains of dadness#atmod#amod#hildy russet#musicverse#all outfits come from 1930s sewing patterns#except the witch which is a 1920s pattern
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rough animatic i slowly got carpal tunnel working on if u can’t tell by the slowly deteriorating effort BUT HEY. I DID IT. plus deer horn meryl in the brain. Think on it.
#starstudded#atmod#at the mountains of dadness#dndads#dungeons and daddies#Spotify#dndaddies#meryl streep#meryl streep dndads#stuart stampler#stud stampler#amod#an itch in my brain. lets just say#(meryl stalking behind me)#TIDDLYWINKS!!#I miss them.#I need more content of starstudded guys pls#dndads art
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Okay, so I don't usually post my fics directly on tumblr (usually just on ao3 with a link on here) but ao3 is down atm and I finished the dbd x mphfpc fic!
Tagging @fellow-fandom-fruitifier bc he asked :)
Um...I'll add what would be tags here:
Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Books)
Not really any necessary content warnings. Just a nice little case without anything dangerous, for once.
Word Count: 2069
The Case of the Lost Boys
Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives find themselves on the island of Cairnholm, investigating the whereabouts of a wandering ghost and his unfinished business.
While London alone was teeming with ghosts with issues to solve, occasionally ghosts brought cases from farther away. Typically, these cases were much simpler than what would, 25 years later, lead them to Port Townsend.
One of these cases, back in 1998, was The Case of the Lost Boys.
The ghost of a young woman arrived in their office one afternoon. While the case didn’t necessarily concern her directly, she had spent a lot of time with the affected ghost. A young boy, around Charles and Edwin’s age, had been wandering the island of Cairnholm for decades, the woman said. He was looking for something—someone—that just wasn’t there. The woman paid them sufficiently, and Charles and Edwin agreed to take the case.
Mirror hopping led the two detectives through the mirror inside a bathroom, which was attached to a motel room, which was above a tavern. The sheer amount of noise coming from below caused Edwin to simply walk through the wall to get outside, instead of going down the stairs and through the tavern on the ground floor. It was one of several things that freaked Charles out every time Edwin did it. To his credit, however, Edwin was trying to do it less when Charles reminded him of it. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still forget from time to time.
Edwin walked through a second floor wall and landed on his feet on the ground outside. A few minutes later, Charles was next to him, having taken the long way around. “Mate, you can’t keep doing that! I know you’re fine, but I still forget we’re dead sometimes.”
“Right, my apologies. I’ll use the door next time. I simply didn’t care to walk through such a loud establishment.”
“Next time, we’ll take the stairs and walk through a wall on the first floor, yeah?”
“Agreed. Now, let us track down this wayward ghost, shall we?”
After a bit of walking, the two detectives found the place their client had mentioned the boy to frequent. They had to wait a while, but, sure enough, the boy wandered through the bog and up near the old, previously bombed out house on the far side of the island. Once they were sure he’d stay there for a while, Charles and Edwin followed him up, Charles holding his cricket bat out in front of him.
“Excuse me,” called Edwin, “but we were called because we were told you might need help.”
The boy turned around. He’d been tearing through pieces of the house, searching. “My sister. She was here.”
“When it was bombed during the war?” asked Charles. He hadn’t quite gotten around to explaining the second world war to Edwin, but Charles knew London and other parts of the region had taken a lot of damage. He’d paid some attention during his history classes.
“Yes, but it always reset before anyone got hurt.”
“What do you mean, reset?”
“The bird reset it to the night before the house was destroyed. We would watch the show each night before bed. Then I went out one night, and I died. I can’t get back in. I haven’t seen her in years!” The boy punched a wall, causing chunks of it to fall out. Charles pulled Edwin backwards, out of the house entirely.
“I think he’s lost his mind,” said Charles, once he and Edwin were alone again. The two of them were poring over Edwin’s notes.
“It seems he’s lost his sister, and, though the house was bombed with her in it, he believes she’s alive.”
“He mentioned it all being reset. Sounds like a time loop, doesn’t it?”
“That it does, Charles, but we cannot see it, and therefore we cannot break it.”
“Is that even the problem, though? If he just sees his sister, he’ll move on.”
“That would be quite easy, Charles, if only we knew where the sister was.”
They didn’t even know the ghost’s name, and now they needed to find his sister, too? This wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.
Charles and Edwin returned to the island the next day, after spending the night in the office reading up on time loops and delirium in ghosts. This time, they used the stairs to exit the tavern, and by the time they reached the old house it was midday. Despite the sun being high in the sky they still couldn’t see very well in the old charred house. Charles pulled two flashlights from his backpack and the search continued.
Eventually, Charles found a hole in the floor. “Edwin, come look at this!”
The boy in question followed Charles’s voice until they were both looking down into the hole. Edwin went down into the hole while Charles stood lookout, just in case the ghost boy made another appearance.
Inside the hole in the ground, Edwin found a trunk of old photos, featuring children doing largely impossible or supernaturally odd things. As he sifted through them, a second light appeared above his head. It was a soft glow, like a fireplace, and Edwin looked up right as Charles called, “Edwin?”
A girl stood next to Charles, holding a ball of flames above the hole to see into it better. Edwin heard her voice echo as she asked Charles, “What are you doing here? Who are you?”
“Stay back,” warned Charles, pointing his cricket bat at her.
“What. Are you doing. In our house?” asked the girl, punctuating each set of words with a few steps forward. Behind her, Charles soon noticed, were a smaller girl, likely about seven years old, and a boy the older girl’s age that gave off a faint buzzing sound if it was quiet.
“We were just leaving, actually.” Charles took a step back.
“Good,” said the girl.
“Emma,” said the younger girl, “we should go before we’re late for lunch.”
Emma grimaced, turning around towards the two that were with her. “I suppose so. The bird will be angry if we’re late.” She cast one last warning glare over her shoulder at Charles, and then the three of them were gone.
Edwin climbed back out of the hole, with help from a rope Charles had in his backpack, and reported his findings to Charles. “It appears to be a group of syndrigasti: a variant of human with an extra soul. These extra souls give them special abilities, such as the boy’s ability to do so much damage around this place, and the girl’s fire.”
“So, his sister must be one too?”
“Not necessarily. It’s a relatively rare condition, however, it is especially likely in this case. If he cannot find her, and neither can we, she’s likely in a time loop for the living. Only syndrigasti can enter, and we are not that.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad then, does it? He can go in himself and find her.”
“Not if he died in a certain way. If the creature that killed him consumed his extra soul, then he can no longer enter the time loop, as he said before. We will need to get the sister to leave the loop temporarily.”
“How do we do that?”
“I do not know. I suppose if we can find another occupant of the time loop, we may be able to get a message across. For that, however, we’ll need more information from the boy.”
“What about that girl, Emma? She had abilities, didn’t she?”
“We don’t know for sure that she lives there, though it is likely. Unfortunately, they’ve gone, and we still do not know how to enter the time loop.”
Later in the day, the detectives found the boy in the same place as the day before. Charles stood by with his bat while Edwin questioned the wayward ghost. They learned that the boy’s name was Victor, his sister’s name was Bronwyn, and that he had, in fact, died in the way Edwin had suspected.
The one good thing about all this was that he remembered how to enter the time loop. Charles suggested writing on the cave’s wall and hoping they’d see it when one of them left again. Edwin, however, thought it might frighten the children if they saw a note reading “Bronwyn, your brother is looking for you”, considering Victor had been dead for decades.
Instead, Edwin wrote out a neat note and attached it to the wall of the cave:
Bronwyn Bruntley,
I am from the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We were called in about your brother. His ghost is still on the island in the present day. Until he has closure, he will not move on to his afterlife. Victor’s unfinished business is seeing his sister again. Once you receive this, it would help both of us if you could leave the time loop temporarily to reunite with your brother.
Sincerely,
Edwin Payne
Edwin and Charles stayed on the island late into the evening, watching the mouth of the cave for someone to take Edwin’s note. Eventually, the note seemingly disappeared on its own. It moved like it was being removed from the wall by a hand, but there was no hand. It floated through the cave and disappeared through the other end.
Less than an hour later, two girls and a floating hat emerged from the mouth of the cave, each of them able to see Edwin and Charles (or so they assumed). One of the girls, the one that wore trousers and a shirt, asked, “Are you Edwin Payne?” She held the note in her hands.
“I am Edwin Payne. You must be Bronwyn.”
“I am. You found my brother?”
“We did.”
Victor, who had been all but dragged over near the bog by Charles earlier, stepped closer to the girls.
“Wyn?”
“Victor!”
The two siblings embraced so tightly that anyone else might have bruised a rib from it. Edwin and Charles gave them a bit of space for their little reunion, until, eventually, Edwin had to burst their bubble.
“I do not mean to bring down the room, but since your unfinished business has now been finished, Death will be coming to collect you shortly. Therefore, Charles and I must be going, now.” Edwin turned on his heel and began to walk away, Charles shortly behind him.
Then, the other girl, Emma, called out, “Wait!” and Edwin stopped. He turned back around to look at her.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if you work with the living at all, but I’ve been looking for a certain boy since the last war. If I give you a name, can you send the results to our post box in town?”
Edwin’s expression softened slightly, and he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Of course. What is the name?”
“Abraham Portman.”
This second, smaller case did not require that the Dead Boy Detectives remain on Cairnholm. The two of them did, however, have to use their disguises that would allow them to appear living. They searched computers and phone directories until they found the man Emma had been looking for.
The two ghosts finally found Abraham’s house in Florida, in the United States. Mirror hopping there was easy. The difficult part was deciding how to explain it to Emma. Abraham was married by then. He had a wife, two children, and his son even had a son of his own. So much time had passed since Emma was this young. Edwin understood far better than he’d have liked to.
Edwin ultimately wrote Emma, sending the letter to the postbox she gave the address to. Charles looked it over for sensitivity purposes, and then off it went. A week later, Edwin received a letter in return, thanking both he and Charles for putting in the effort to help her, even though she didn’t get the answer she wanted. Attached were a few paper bills as payment.
Although Edwin continued to be baffled as to how she was returning his letters, he continued sending them. As it turned out, despite having so many other children living with you, the novelty of a ‘pen pal’, as she called it, was slow to wear off.
Letters were sent back and forth between Cairnholm and London regularly for a solid twelve years, and then, suddenly, they stopped. Edwin, unsurprisingly, began to worry. That is, until he received a letter from Florida, instead of Cairnholm.
Emma, it seemed, was doing just fine.
#okay okay I know she's not really doing all that fine#but if we disregard amod for a minute...then she is#fanfiction#my writing#is it the best thing I've written? no#but the concept of edwin and emma being pen pals brings me joy#dead boy detectives#miss peregrines home for peculiar children#mphfpc#dbd#edwin payne#charles rowland#emma bloom#bronwyn bruntley#victor bruntley#and victor got a speaking part yayyy#i feel like we always gloss over that bronwyn lost a whole sibling#i didn't really go too deep into it in this#but in my defence i wrote it from the perspective of the dbd#it seems a bit rushed to me but then again we're all our own worst critics so 🤷♀️#i might write more for this concept idk#I'll post this to ao3 later once the site is up again btw
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I’m sorry, but nobody can convince me otherwise that Darryl was the most anxiety filled kid ever. Like he was constantly wondering what God would think with every action that he did. He was constantly afraid of screwing something up so much that he would just freeze in certain situations. Like completely tense all of his muscles, my man was so deer in headlights coded.
I think that he had multiple panic attacks growing up, but they didn’t think that they were panic attacks. They just thought it was him freaking out over little things because of stress. (Yes I am aware that panic attacks come from stress. I have very bad anxiety myself, but he grew up in the 80-90’s)
Like when he went on the turkey hunt with his dad, the moment the gun fired. He completely froze, dropping the gun into the snow blow him. Wondering if that animal had a family. He started stressing about it whenever he was eating it. How he would feel if his dad just never came home one day. He just had a panic attack right there at the table, thinking about his dad dying and never coming home.
Darryl would constantly bounce his leg because if he wasn’t moving he thought the world would end.
Like motherfucker should’ve been on meds. He got it from his grandpa i swear.
#dndads#dungeons and daddies#dndaddies#darryl wilson#darryl wilson headcannons#God I love this anxious ass family#frank wilson#robert wilson#robbie wilson#amod#at the mountains of dadness#my proof?#ep 66 s1 when Frank tried to teach him how to drive
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they make me crazy.
edit: punishment banner
#9art88#fanart#art#digital art#dndads#dungeons and daddies#meryl streep#meryl streep atmod#stud stampler#atmod#amod#dndads atmod#tw self image#tw weight talk
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The only thing I hope for with the ending of s2 is Scary getting an extreme clutch roll to pair with Ron’s second nat 20 for singing and Stud’s double 3s on a d100 roll to banish the Doodler.
#all I can do is pray to the dice gods that they grant Beth insane luck again#dndads#dungeons and daddies#dndads spoilers#for the amod part#dndads season 2#dndads s2#scary marlowe#stud stampler#ron stampler
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if anyone has the link to the Amodal ( referring to having no modality / gender modality ) coining source please let me know so I can link it on the Vacamodal / Inmodal / Interamodal post I just published !!
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Hildy Russet is a lesbian and her elf partner is non binary. In this essay I will-
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Might have asked already but I need answers now HOW DO YALL PRONOUNCE CAUL??? I know a hood is called a cowl and that’s a similar thing, same word root probably but I’ve asked someone ik and they said they’d pronounce caul as “call” which I do too I honestly just want to see how everyone else sees it
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So pleased with my subconscious right now. I forgot this line existed, but the prequel fic I’ve been writing (….for the past year+) absolutely goes along with it.
Writing something canon compliant is so fun and satisfying, especially a prequel/missing scenes sort of fic.
Because then I can play through the canon and just slot the fic timeline right in there. Headcanons fit right in. Adds a layer of subtext that absolutely isn’t there canonically but now it’s there for me because of this prequel backstory living in my head.
#I’m so close to the end of this fic#literally one more scene#then I have to debate with myself about an interlude vs epilogue#and when to post final chapter + interlude#but SO CLOSE#it’s coming together better than I ever expected#sometimes I hate writing#but right now I love it#riding a high of successes all week#on writing#on fandom#on fanfic#a matter of duty#amod#kamisato Ayato#Thoma#ayato/thoma#kamisato ayato x thoma
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Final lineup!
Implementing some of my own height headcanons because I refuse to make hildy 4’11
-mic
#at the comic of dadness#at the mountains of dadness#atmod#dndads#dungeons and daddies#amod#amod dndads#dndaddies#hildy russet#meryl streep#meryl streep dndads#stuart stampler#stud stampler#robbie wilson#obv once the comic is actually getting done they’ll look better#I hate doing stiff reference poses#this was mostly to help mize work with colors and shading and such
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