#copy kitten

[lunpanew]

she's so cringe te quiero mil copy kitten

[rune-tisms]

uhh smth smth fbacc au where kyle is the main character so copy kitten is his antag instead of fanboy and chum chum’s

[juliannegriepp]

I’m selling my first comic that I’ve written/published myself! It’s 15 pages, a sweet little story about a girl and her cats. Etsy is also having a $5 off site wide sale this weekend 9/16-17, so get yours here!

[deforest]

love is real and it’s weird

[sunbathingleaves]

How did Grandmas ended up working for the baker?

At first, I assumed the Baker simply enslaved them somehow. The grandmas seemed to be inspired from witches in fairy tales and I thought that maybe he tricked them into working for him in a classic fairy tale way, like taking a selkie's skin to force it to do your bidding for as long as you have it. It would have been a simple enough explanation.

But things seem to be stranger in the game. Their situation is being described as indentured servitude and it might not be used as just a fancy word for slavery since the game does mention that they have a contract. So, it means that at some point the grandmas sat down with the Baker and negotiated the terms that now force them to obey his every wish. Or at least one of them did, since they seem to be a hive mind species, so one of them signing the contract might be enough to doom them all.

Even the Grandmapocalypse, their moment of glory where they seem terrifying and all powerful, is completely controlled by the Baker - he chooses when it begins and when it ends and he's the only person on the planet not threatened by it in any way, which shows that even at their strongest they still can't do anything to hurt him (and that they still have to work for him). And the Baker isn't particularly nice to them, between selling them, feeding them to a dragon and turning them into cookies. So why did they accept such terms?

Sure, they could have mistaken him for a much nicer and naive person at the beginning and never intended to give him this much control over them but it's obvious that the way the contract was written still allowed it somehow. It seems hidden contract clauses are the Baker's speciality, since people not reading the contract properly is brought up at least three times in the flavour text, but at no point are the grandmas complaining about getting tricked in any way.

Indentured servitude means that they have to pay back the Baker for some favour or service he did or still does for them, and until they pay him back in full they're beholden to the contract. But what could a normal guy with a small cookie business run from his own home do for some beings as strong as the Grandmatriarchs for them to accept such a restrictive and unfair contract?

*

I wrote about milk being used by the Baker to bargain with kittens for their help, could he have used a similar strategy with the grandmas? They seemed to be normal old ladies at the beginning of the game, and it's easy to assume it was all just an act to blend in among humans, but what if they truly lost their powers in the past in some way and had to live like that since then? After all, a ritual was needed to start the Grandmapocalypse so maybe they truly couldn't access their powers without the Baker's help.

It seems that magic and the supernatural were much more common in the past but mysteriously vanished at some point long before the Baker was born. Is it possible that whatever happened then affected the grandmas too? Is it possible that they accepted such a harsh deal because the Baker had some way of helping them regain at least a part of their old abilities?

They seemed pretty confident that once Grandmapocalypse starts they can get rid of the Baker and take over the world, so it's possible that they never paid much attention to the contract they signed with him because they thought it will be just a temporary arrangement until they get their powers back and then they'll be strong enough to ignore the contract and kill him. Only to eventually find out that they still have to obey the contract even after they transform in their eldritch true forms. The last grandma upgrade even shows that eventually they more or less gave up and accepted their fate and are now more interested in fighting each other than working together against the Baker.

*

Grandmas not taking the Baker seriously at the beginning of the game and making a contract with the full intention of breaking it later after they get what they want, only for them to end up stuck forever working for the Baker fits with their fairy tale nature. It's pretty common in fairy tales for villains to get defeated for being too smug and underestimating the hero and for characters to pay for their own flaws. (Although calling the Baker a hero is a huge stretch.)

And this idea also would also fit the Baker. Enslaving the grandmatriarchs shows his calculated and manipulative nature and it's even more fitting since it happens so early in the game, it's like a blueprint for his later strategies. Seems like the Baker was so successful in his business because he knows how to get other people to do what he wants, even if they are far stronger or smarter than him. He knows how to convince, coerce or trick these beings and how to maintain control over them long after. And it's possible that letting others underestimate him was a favourite strategy of his - from grandmas, to the public, his business partners, wizards and the government. Probably most of his business expansions started with someone underestimating how dangerous and competent he actually is until it was too late to stop him.

[bludraws094]

the five and a half minute hallway

made this at the mix lab at the science museum

navidson is a cutout that i glued onto the main sheet of paper

all of the colors were done in alcohol(?) markers on the backside, so that they would bleed through

i got to tell other people there about house of leaves while i drew it :3 also there was a kitten named mcdonalds sprite

if any of the people who were there see this (which i doubt they will) and have pictures of mcdonalds sprite please add pictures of him i didnt get to take any bcus i didnt want to photograph any of the people who held him without permission and my anxious ass was not asking to take pictures of people holding a cat

reblogs > likes!

[daddyplasmius]

this is let grief do its work, a fic (currently unedited rip) I started as a kind of sister fic to hand on my stupid heart, another fic I'd written earlier and uh. yeah. you guessed it. haven't finished. I'm working on this on the side, Flying Over the Pit of Death + its sister fic & my original novels being my main focuses right now. I will most likely continue lgdiw sometime in the future, it just isn't my main priority. Like all of my fics, this idea is free for anyone to take & run with. if/when I finish this fic, the edited version will go on ao3. For context: this is just a prologue of sorts, depicting vaguely what is happening on the human side of the Portal the month after the Accident. On Danny's side, he's been chillin' in the Ghost Zone, where he ended up after half-dying, believing he's fully dead (he's not) & only realized he's still alive after it was too late for him to tell everyone what happened cuz like, awkward & embarrassing lol. HOMSH takes place a year later, when things come to a head. I feel it's important to reiterate that, although Danny isn't actually dead, the characters think he is & act accordingly. okay author's infodump note complete, fic under a readmore

“when they first go, let yourself think every selfish, no-good, dirty, angry, filthy, horrible thought. let the waves of anger wash through you. let grief do its work.” ーCaitlyn Siehl; Grief Counseling

On the first day, Sam had thought that, maybe, Danny was just busyーtoo busy to answer their texts, and their calls, and everything else. But then Tucker called her. It was a horrible game of telephone at first. Danny’s parents told Jazz, who told Tucker, who told Sam, and that’s how the communication went for two days until she and Tuck had enough.

They went to FentonWorks, the big, ugly building on the corner of Mockingbird and Cedar, and were surprised to find no one home at all. Not even Jazz. And, for the first time since they’d known the Fentons, the doors were locked. And when they tried to talk to Jazz later, they would find that they’ve officially filed a police report.

ー

Danny Fenton is missing. The last time Sam talked to him she was making fun of him, for being too scared to go check out the Fentons’ new Ghost Portal. She knew he was freaked out by stuff like thatーby ghosts. Now she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again.

There’s just no way. He can’t be gone. She literally saw him on Saturday. His empty seat in homeroom on the first day of school is the thing that does it. There’s this gap in the desks where he should be, but he’s not. Like he’s already haunting her.

It makes her sick. Everythingーeverything in her head, everything she knows. Despite what Dash and his asshole friends say, Danny wouldn’t run away. And the longer a person is missing, the more likely it is that they’reー

Sam doesn’t wait for the bell. She leaves Tucker in homeroom, goes straight to the bathroom, and wipes her face down in the sink, water turning black. Suddenly, everything macabre, everything dark and creepyーit just disgusts her.

She goes home early. No one even says anything, not the school, not her parents, not Tucker. Alone in her room, Sam starts to shake. She sobs once, something seething just under her skin. She stalks over to the wall where most of her horror movie posters are taped and starts tearing them down, one by one.

ー

Danny Fenton has been missing for a week, and Tucker, staring at the sweater his best friend forgot at his house, laid across his computer chair, thinks he’s starting to feel it.

Opening his phone, he feels it again. Looking at his texts, he feels it again, and again, and again.

Saturday • 4:47 p.m. Danny Phantom: xD Danny Phantom: not playing tonight, ghost portal opening night 👻 Danny Phantom: can play tmrw tho Too Fine: hell ya txt u then Danny Phantom: 👍 Sunday • 10:20 a.m. Too Fine: yo still up 4 doomed Too Fine: dued Too Fine: dude* Too Fine: you there Sunday • 10:21 a.m. Too Fine: txt me when you wanna play Sunday • 11:58 a.m. Too Fine: you up?

Tucker lets his phone fall on his bed. He doesn’t bother checking in with Sam. She’s been out of school and ignoring him for the last three days. It’s almost been a week sinceー

He gets up and stumbles to his chair. He sits down, careful not to mess up Danny’s NASA hoodie. Tucker turns on his desktop, types in his password, checks his emails. He messes around for as long as he can before he literally cannot take it anymore. He just can’t ignore it.

God. His best friend is gone. Is he coming back? Is heー

It’s like something inside his chest cracks. Without thinking, he pulls the NASA hoodie into his lap, and then over his head. It’s been here too long. It still has that smell of ozone and copper on it, though.

Tucker leans back in his chair and stares at the wall.

ー

Danny was home. That’s the thing. The last time Jazz saw him, he was inside the house, and she never saw him leave. He must have, at some point. She has no idea why, or for what, but he must have. It’s the only rational explanation. Danny left. Something happened. He never came home.

She feels the panic rising, gripping her throat again. She puts the candle down on the bleachers. Wipes her face. Whoever is speaking to the crowd of students holding vigil is a mess of white noise in her ears. It doesn’t help. It should and it doesn’t. A lot of things are the opposite of what Jazz knowsーthought they are.

She almost wishes it had just happened at home, been a little less drawn out.

As soon as it pops into her head, she feels sick, disgusted at herself.

But no one goes missing this long and lives. A very small percentage do. And if it had been some accident in the lab, like she always feared would happen, at least they’d have a body to mourn. At least they would know.

ー

Sam’s parents pretend they aren’t happy. They have to look worried, grieving, because what would the neighbours think if they didn’t? She can see through it, unlike them. They always hated the Fentons. They always hated Danny. They always hated Sam’s fascination with the macabre.

Well. They got what they wanted.

It’s like he’s in everything. She isn’t even looking for him, and he’s still there, still everywhereー

Sam rubs her eyes on her sleeve before she can properly cry. There’s no body. He could still come back. A month is a lot, but he could stillーhe could show up. Someone could find him alive. He could be alive.

Her parents look at her from across the lavish, stupidly large, solid wood table. She should know what type of wood it is but it’s like the information is behind a fogbank. She can see the silhouette. She just can’t make it out. Mom places her cutlery down neatly, dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin, and clears her throat.

“Sammy-kins…” She starts, and the rage inside Sam bubbles up like lava bursting through rock. “There’s been… We…”

She looks to the side for help, from dad. He looks incredibly awkward for a moment before turning to Sam with an expression she hasn’t seen since grandpa died.

“Saman… Sam.” He says, simply, slowly, and the lava in Sam’s gut turns cold, and heavy. “They’ve found evidence that has given them reasons to believe that… your friend is gone.” He’s never spoken this softly. Ever. His voice is barely audible above the blood rushing in her ears. “They’ve called off the search.”

ー

Tucker didn’t expect nightmares. He wakes up and he panic-cries into his pillow and hopes to whatever god or deity is listening that ghosts in dreams aren’t real. He can’t explain the fear. Everything is incredibly normal, more normal than his dreams ever have been, and then Danny walks in.

He would give anything for this to happen, right now, in real life. He’s afraid, though. In his dreams, a sheer terror overcomes him. He can’t get away fast enough. He can still hear his own voice echoing in his head. “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

It’s a wrongness he can’t quite graspーor doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be afraid of his best friend. Tucker wants him back so badly. But his brain knows the truth, even if Tuck is digging his heels in and refusing to budge.

Someone knocks on his door, and he tenses.

“Tucker, sweetie? It’s…” Mom takes a deep breath. “It’s time to go.”

He grits his teeth and shoves his face into his pillow so hard he can’t get air. He stays like this until he can’t. He gets up.

Tucker walks across the floor like a zombie, barely aware of what he’s even doing. He manages to put on the suit his mom put out for him yesterday, and goes downstairs. He refuses breakfast. The three of themーmom, dad, Tuckerーgo out to the car, and drive to his best friend’s funeral.

ー

Jazz stares at the closed casket. There’s a pair of police officers out of uniform, or maybe detectives, standing in the corner by the photo album laid out on a table looking haunted. Aunt Alicia, uncharacteristically wearing a plain, black dress, sits with mom and dad at the other side of the room. Jazz stares at the casket and she tries to imagine that it’s not empty. That it isn’t making her scream inside with the frustration of it all. Her baby brother is gone. They couldn’t even find him. And probably never will. Because that’s how these things end.

Tucker walks into the room. Dark bags circle his unfocused eyes. His parents are right behind him, his father’s hand on his shoulder. Tucker looks at the casket. He turns away, catching sight of Jazz, and when his parents break off to meet hers, Tucker walks over.

He picks at his sleeves. Says nothing. Jazz tries to pick at the grief counseling she knows she’s studied for fun, but finds herself falling short.

She doesn’t see Sam or Mr. and Mrs. Manson walk in, but suddenly they’re there as well, smiling tightly and giving their condolences to Jazz’s parents. Sam doesn’t walk over. She stands in a corner and stares at a wall with purpose.

Jazz breathes slowly, willing her heart to stop pounding. She counts the stages she can see in front of her.

Too much Acceptance, all from strangers who never even knew him personally. She glances at Dash Baxter, tugging on his tie and looking annoyed. She can feel Anger in her. But also Denial. Bargaining. Depression.

And somehow, Acceptance, too.

They’re not stages. She never really got that before. You feel them all at once, all the time, and they don’t go away. The intensity changes, turning from a background hum to bright bursts of emotion at any little reminder.

She looks at Tucker out of the corner of her eye. She wonders if he’s feeling that way too. Being bombarded by the stages of grief in a way no one prepared them for. Is this why mom and dad never let them get any pets? Besides Danny’s gerbil, which promptly disappeared before she could even get used to the rodent’s smell. What happened to it? Was it rehomed, or is its body still somewhere around the house, unfound, unlooked for?

The stages start over, skipping between Depression, Anger, Denial, the emotions falling over themselves. She wished the cops would leave.

Not soon enough, it’s over. The funeral home employees usher them out, the rooms and halls now empty. The drive home is simultaneously the longest and shortest ever. She stares up at the brick and all she wants to do is sleep. She heads inside intending to do just that.

She takes her shoes off at the door. Mom and dad take off their jacks and move to settle in the living room. Mom is holding a tissue to her eye. Jazz hesitates for just a moment.

Should she do something? She feels like she should do something, anything. She wants to suggest therapy. She’s afraid to open her mouth, though. Jazz can feel the blame on the back of her tongue, ready to spill out. That would be the worst thing for her to do, and she doesn’t know if she has the strength to hold it back, because for fucks sake, if they just watched their children, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jazz turns to the stairs and starts climbing them. She doesn’t get halfway before she’s blinded by drywall dust and knocked off her feet.

[joyfuladorable]

Current state of my 2k3 book scans! Feel free to message me for a link to the gdrive folder if you wanna take a look! ^w^

[mryqu3sti0nmark]

Will one day adopt kittens.

[gaybriar]

stinky little man eats The Truth, presumably loves lies and biased journalism

[shh-igotbeans]

[ejsuperstar]

Me omw to info dump about the card game my college just bought cos I own two copies of it and know about about of the different version differences

[general-kalani]

Tries to pick Hoyt up by the back of the neck. Stupid taller bitches. >c Can't get his feet off the ground. Might seem more like a strangle.

He's dropped the gun he'd been polishing and is hanging limp.

Apparently that was good enough.

[suffarustuffaru]

unfinished genderbend au things from a while ago…. yes i called gluttonybaru a bitch 😳😳😳😳 i explain the design choices in the tags…

[hells-favorite]

Tiptoe taught him well: her legacy lives on

[cutiecatsub]

💗: i want to give you a hug!

💪: id fight someone if they talked shit about you

🔊: im really glad i started following you!

💭: i think about you a lot

👏: everything you say is great wtf…

🎧: you have excellent music taste!

Whatever the opposite of 🚨 is 😹

Aw omg 🥰 no one has ever said I have good music taste before. Literally no one. 😹 you’re so sweet anon idk what I did to deserve this 🥺