#Mama pickles

[pols-doodles]

Mama Pickle

[outlandish-dreamer]

Happy Mother’s Day to my favorite and only relevant band mom ✨ and everyone else i guess

[nugget-jr-og]

Happy Mother’s Day guys

[sushijimi]

You can't imagine what seeing this red-haired beast did to me when I first watched the show

[witch-mountains]

My first post! I really want to see Cherri Bomb adopting Eggboi Frank in season 2 🥹

[dixieandherbabies]

Dixie and her babies.

I’m the queen! I should be getting some pets right now!

[klokaqueer]

"Hey, Deaths! Whats shoulds we gets on our pizza?" "Toki! I'm sorry, Death. He's a little slow-" "I'ms nots slows I'm smarts, you fucking jerk!"

[goblin-a-gogo]

Various Lasagna sketches ft. @gointothevvater ‘s St. Cecilia and @dolly-macabre ‘s Dolly :>

[peppymintdreams]

pickle has a panic attack and isaac helps them (please)

Mhm I gotchu

Panik….Kalm….PANIK

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

Isaac helps Pickle through a panic attack with his calm and steady presence, guiding them with his serious yet caring nature until they feel safe and grounded again.

It happened suddenly, out of nowhere. One moment, Pickle was sitting at the kitchen table, staring absently at the mess of paperwork scattered before them, and the next, their breath hitched, shallow and rapid, like they couldn’t quite get enough air. They pressed their hands to their chest, trying to calm the storm rising inside, but nothing was working.

Isaac had been in the other room, focused on a phone call, when he heard the first telltale signs of distress—a sharp intake of breath, the sound of paper crumpling. He paused mid-conversation, his senses on high alert.

“Hold on,” he muttered into the phone before quickly hanging up.

Stepping into the kitchen, he saw Pickle’s hunched figure, their hands gripping the table’s edge as if trying to anchor themselves. Their chest was rising and falling too quickly, eyes wide and unfocused.

Isaac’s expression tightened, but he remained calm, his usual stern demeanor softening slightly as he approached. He knew that panic attacks could be all-consuming, and right now, Pickle was trapped in their own mind, spiraling.

He crouched down in front of them, making sure his movements were slow and deliberate, not wanting to startle them further.

"Pickle," he said, his voice firm but gentle, cutting through the chaos. "Hey, look at me."

Pickle’s eyes darted to him, but they were clouded with panic, their breath still coming in quick, ragged bursts. Isaac knew he had to act fast, but without overwhelming them.

"You're having a panic attack," Isaac said, his voice calm and steady, as if he was stating a simple fact. "You're okay. You're safe."

Pickle’s hands trembled as they clenched and unclenched, their breath still uneven. Isaac reached out, his hand hovering just above their knee, not touching yet but letting them know he was there.

“Focus on my voice,” Isaac instructed, his tone unwavering. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, slowly.”

Pickle struggled, their chest tightening even more as they tried to follow his instructions. But Isaac didn’t rush them; he just sat there, his presence grounding, his gaze steady.

“In through your nose,” he repeated softly. “Hold for three seconds. Then out through your mouth.”

He began breathing with them, slow and deliberate, showing them how to do it rather than just telling them. Isaac was always serious, always focused on finding solutions, and right now, his calmness was exactly what Pickle needed.

Pickle tried again, shaky at first, but this time they managed to slow their breath just a fraction. Isaac watched closely, his hand finally resting gently on their knee, offering that physical connection they often found comfort in.

“Good,” Isaac murmured, his voice still steady but softer now. “You’re doing great. Just keep going, one breath at a time.”

Pickle’s hands still shook, and their eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but they followed his lead, mimicking his breaths, finding a rhythm. Isaac stayed close, his hand a constant, reassuring pressure on their leg, his gaze never leaving theirs.

“Focus on the present,” Isaac continued, his voice low and soothing. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Pickle’s breathing gradually slowed, the tension in their chest easing bit by bit, though their heart still pounded. Isaac’s voice remained a lifeline, anchoring them as they navigated their way out of the storm.

After several minutes, the panic subsided enough for Pickle to slump forward, exhaustion setting in. Isaac was there in an instant, guiding them gently down from the chair so they could sit on the floor, their back against the kitchen cabinets. He sat beside them, close but not crowding them.

They sat in silence for a moment, the aftermath of the panic attack leaving Pickle drained. Isaac leaned back against the cabinets, still keeping his hand on Pickle’s knee, grounding them in the present.

“I’m sorry,” Pickle whispered, their voice weak, almost embarrassed.

Isaac shook his head, his gaze softening just a bit as he looked at them. “Don’t be,” he said simply. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Pickle let out a shaky breath, still feeling the echoes of panic but knowing that it had passed, at least for now. Isaac had helped them pull through, his calmness like a lifeline when they had felt like they were drowning.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Pickle murmured, glancing at Isaac with tired eyes.

“You didn’t,” Isaac replied, his voice matter-of-fact. “But even if you had, it’s my job to worry about you.”

That was Isaac—straightforward, serious, but always there when it mattered. Pickle leaned their head against the cabinet, feeling the tension begin to melt away. Isaac didn’t need to say much, didn’t fill the space with unnecessary words. His presence was enough, solid and dependable, like a steady hand in the dark.

“I’ve got you,” Isaac said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly against Pickle’s knee in a rare gesture of comfort. “Whenever you need me, I’m here.”

Pickle gave a small nod, feeling the weight of those words sink in. They weren’t alone in this not with Isaac beside them, steady as ever.

And for now, that was enough.

[nowlemmehearyourguns]

Nathan go help with the kids omg

[fullmetalwindbreaker]

hmm what if i made two fried chicken sandiwches with swiss cheese and thousand island dressing and pickled onions. one on a pretzel bun and one on a croissant

[god-impeaching-dj]

Current sketches for potential future button designs. (Theres two more batches of sketches in the works rn featuring corpse paint and alternate outfits)

[Disclaimer it will take me a billion years to do anything with this]

[m3gahet]

Nathan’s just too stunned to speak

[smiercnadchodzig]

wczoraj spotkałam ogorki pojebane i uznaje to za znak od boga ze dzisisj sie niezabijd!!!!!!!

[timidteratoma]

Ok, so I finally watched Puss in Boots: the Last Wish

Yeah, yeah, I'm late to the party, especially since I'm studying ANIMATION, but you know, no time and all that. So there's my humble opinion

[goblin-a-gogo]

Various MTL sketches I haven’t posted yet

on a side note, I’m toying with the idea of lasagna playing bass. I think it’d be hilarious for her to have something to bond with murderface about which pisses pickles off bc he wanted to be the one to introduce her to music lol. It’d be like the fatherklok episode