#applesmith

[sticklordy]

Gift for good friend T. Applesmith inspired by the bonfire scene in Goodbye Volcano High!

[applegameisprollytaken]

PEOPLE OF TUMBLR. I need help. Don't care if you are a mutual, or some random who found me by accident. I need help balancing some perk ideas I had

Survivor: Nicolas Appleflame

Perk 1: Big Bones

Description: Your large stature and heavy build make it somewhat difficult for the Killer to carry you. When being carried by the Killer, your struggling slightly slows them down by 5%/8%/10% (based on perk level).

Perk 2: Boon: But What If...

Description: Your resourcefulness allows you to restore broken objects temporarily and create portals to replace them. When within a 24-meter radius of a Boon Totem, you can interact with the location of a previously broken pallet. By channeling your energy through the totem, you can open a portal that creates a new pallet in its original position. The newly created pallet functions like a regular pallet and can be used by survivors. However, the portal's connection is fragile, and if the pallet is broken again, you lose the ability to replace it for the remainder of the trial.

Perk 3: Practical Problems

Description: You have a knack for finding practical solutions to repair generators, even without proper tools. Once per trial, you can use any non-toolbox item to repair a generator. However, using the item in this way completely consumes it. The effectiveness of the repair is increased based on the rarity of the consumed item:

Common (brown): Repairs the generator 5% faster.

Uncommon (yellow): Repairs the generator 10% faster.

Rare (green): Repairs the generator 15% faster.

Very Rare (purple): Repairs the generator 20% faster.

Ultra Rare (pink): Repairs the generator 25% faster.

Killer: The Paradox (Nikolas Applesmith)

Bayonet Charge:

The Bayonet Charge perk enhances the botanist killer's ability to close the distance and decrease the stun effect when hitting a survivor who is about to drop a pallet on them. In the story, the botanist killer can exhibit a swift and powerful charge, covering greater ground and catching survivors off guard.

Hex: Hidden Rage:

The Hex: Hidden Rage perk reflects the botanist killer's ability to harness their anger and frustration to unleash devastating effects on the survivors. Whenever the killer gets stunned, they gain a token. Once they accumulate a certain number of tokens (7/5/3), all survivors in the match are afflicted with the blinded status effect, impairing their vision and making it more difficult for them to evade the killer.

Additionally, the last survivor who stunned the killer becomes exposed, making them vulnerable to being downed with a single hit. The perk also grants the botanist killer the undetectable status, further enhancing their ability to surprise survivors and maintain the element of surprise.

Scourge Hook: The Hanging Coward:

The Scourge Hook perk empowers the botanist killer in situations where survivors attempt to rescue a hooked teammate while remaining hidden. If the killer is in a chase with one survivor and another survivor is crouching near the hook, the survivor on the hook loses progress faster, putting pressure on the survivors to act quickly.

Simultaneously, the botanist killer gains a temporary speed boost, allowing them to close the distance swiftly and potentially catch the rescuer off guard. If the hooked survivor is successfully rescued, the killer gains a token. Accumulating three tokens enables the killer to see any survivor sneaking near the hook for the rest of the match, ensuring they have increased awareness and control over the area.

Quotes:

Big bones: "For once, this is a good thing"

Boon: but what if...: "What makes you think you would always do that?"

Practical problems: "A surprisingly high amount of this stuff can help"

Bayonet charge: "You cannot escape the inevitable. Not can you escape me"

Hex: Hidden rage: "When I'm done with you, they won't stop finding you."

Scourge Hook: The Hanging Coward:

"I was too cowardly to go through with it. Or maybe too spiteful."

(also, I need ideas on what the perks would look like, because I have no clue. What would the icons even be?)

[49-ibr]

28, water, character? :3

(Send me 1-49, a keyword, and Character/Place and I'll make you something non-canon from the world of 49!)

Coralle Applesmith - A follower of the god of Illusions who lives in an underwater cage. She is constantly made to entertain the family who imprisoned her, and in return they keep her from drowning

[pjfaze]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Boyds Bear Cora B Applesmith Retired 15 Inch Bear With Tags

[rethreadzandmore]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Fall decor Boyd's Bears Collection JONATHAN APPLESMITH 913969 2001 Plush Apple.

[thelastspeecher]

Stangie's first Halloween together. Or even Fiddauthor. Or both.

I cheated a bit.  This is technically Stan and Angie’s first Halloween together, but they aren’t a couple yet.  Because it’s the first Halloween after Stan moved in with the McGuckets.  And there’s just a buncha good feels and fluff in this ficlet, which I think is very appropriate, as it takes place during the OG “Stanley McGucket” fic.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              The rooster crowed.  Used to the routine after close to five months on the McGucket Farm, Stan woke, sat up, and stretched.  He swung his legs over the side of his bed and trudged to his dresser to get dressed for the day.  Once he’d pulled on a pair of heavy-duty denim jeans and a warm flannel to beat back the chill in the air, he headed for the kitchen.

              “Morning,” he mumbled to the McGucket parents, who were already working on breakfast.  Ma McGucket smiled fondly at him.

              “Mornin’, sweetling.”  She stood on her tiptoes to ruffle his unruly curls.  “Ya best comb that mop of yours ‘fore ya head fer school.”

              “Yeah, yeah.”  Stan yawned.  Pa McGucket chuckled.

              “Take a step outside.  We had the first hard frost of the year.  That nip ‘ll wake ya right up.”

              “How cold does it even get ‘round here?” Stan asked, sitting at the table.  “Do you guys get snow?”

              “Sometimes,” Ma McGucket said.  She placed a plate of pancakes in front of him.  “But the weather forecast says it should be warm on Halloween.  Perfect fer trick-or-treating.”

              “Huh.  Kinda figured not a lotta kids would bother to come out here fer free candy,” Stan remarked.  He began to dig into his pancakes.

              “You’d be right.  But the trick-or-treating I was referrin’ to was you ‘n Angie.”

              “…Me and Angie?” Stan asked.

              “Yep!  Don’t worry, we’ll hook ya up with a costume, since it’s so close to Halloween.”

              “Uh, but we’re teenagers.”

              “And?”

              “Teenagers don’t go trick-or-treating,” Stan said. Pa McGucket raised an eyebrow.

              “So ya haven’t gone trick-or-treating since you were twelve?” he asked.  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

              “No, I- I went last year to piss off my Pops, since he said I was too old,” Stan mumbled.  Pa McGucket chortled.  “But I don’t have that motivation this year, so I think I’m gonna sit it out.”

              “Sorry, son, but Angie’s plannin’ on goin’, and we’d feel more comfortable if she had someone we trust to supervise her,” Pa McGucket said.  Stan sighed. “So, what do ya want us to get goin’ on fer yer costume?”

              “Don’t bother.”  Stan resumed eating his breakfast.  “I’ll just raid Harper and Lute’s closets and come up with a cowboy costume.”

----- 

              Sure enough, Stan managed to pull together a cowboy costume in time for Halloween.  He adjusted the cowboy boots with a slight wince.

              Even if these shoes are a bit small. Angie bounded down the stairs, coming to a stop in front of Stan.  Stan grinned at her.

              “Nice costume,” he commented.  Angie beamed in response.  She played with the tail of her costume idly.

              “This is actually one that Violynn wore,” she confessed.  “Bein’ the youngest means I have to wear hand-me-downs sometimes.  I’d prefer to be a salamander, but a cat ain’t that bad.”

              “Nah, it’s cute,” Stan said.  Angie’s grin broadened.  “You ready to go get some free candy, even though yer definitely too old fer it?”  Angie’s grin was wiped away.  She scowled at him.

              “I’m sixteen, Stan.  That’s only slightly less than the number of minors in town.  There are so few children here, that trick-or-treating extends to ages that most other places would consider too old.  It’s a local tradition.”

              “All right, all right,” Stan said, holding up his hands in defeat.  “Fine. I’ll back off.”

              “Good.  ‘Cause this kitty’s got claws.”  Angie made a clawing motion and hissed.  Stan burst out laughing.  Angie’s smile came back, her blue eyes sparkling with joy.  “Ready, cowpoke?”

              “You know it, kitty cat.”  Stan followed Angie outside.  The air was brisk but not unpleasant and the jack-o-lanterns the family (including Stan) had carved the night before shone on the front porch. Stan glanced at the one he had carved, with narrow eyes and sharp fangs.  It hadn’t turned out as scary as he’d hoped, but he was still proud of it.

              “Stan, wait!”  Stan and Angie turned around.  Ma McGucket came out of the house with a bucket.  She shoved it into Stan’s hands.  “Ya need somethin’ to collect yer candy in, boyo.”

              “I’m just chaperoning Angie.  I don’t need-” Stan started.  Ma McGucket smiled.

              “Just take the bucket, hon.  Who knows, maybe you’ll actually find yourself joinin’ in on the fun.”

              “Not likely.”  Ma McGucket ignored Stan’s mutter.

              “Be safe.”

              “You got it, Ma!” Angie chirped cheerfully. She grabbed Stan’s hand.  “Let’s go get some candy!”

----- 

              Once they got into the city proper, Stan saw that the McGuckets had been right.  While there were plenty of children wandering the streets, accompanied by weary parents, there were just as many teenagers, including classmates of Stan and Angie.

              “I like yer costume, Angie,” said someone dressed as a werewolf.  “It’s very fetchin’.”  Angie smiled.

              “Thanks, Max,” she said cheerfully.  The person continued down the street.  Stan looked at Angie, shocked.

              “Is that the same Max that harassed me the first day of school?” he asked.  Angie nodded. “What’s with the 180?”

              “Max actually ain’t usually like how he was to ya at school,” Angie said.  “He’s usually quite the sweet feller.”

              “Uh-huh.  Sweet to everyone, or sweet to you?”

              “What exactly are ya implyin’?”

              “I think he might have a thing fer you.  I mean, he did just hit on you.”

              “He didn’t hit on me,” Angie scoffed.  “He hit on my costume.  Which, I’ll remind ya, I didn’t even get.  Violynn got it.”

              “Hmph.”

              “Cut it out!” Angie said, punching Stan’s arm. “Yer startin’ to sound like Lute!”

              “Really?” Stan asked.  Angie nodded.

              “Maybe it’s the clothes,” she teased.  “Don’t think I didn’t notice yer just wearin’ stuff ya dug out of my brothers’ closets.”

              “Hey, it works,” Stan said with a shrug.  They walked up to a house with the porchlight on. Angie rang the doorbell.  The door swung open.

              “Trick or treat!” Angie sang.  The woman in the doorway beamed.

              “Little Angie McGucket and the McGucket farmhand,” she cooed.  “Hold out yer buckets!”  Angie promptly did so.  The woman dumped a handful of candy into the bucket.  “Farmhand, don’t ya want some candy?”

              “…If yer offerin’,” Stan said after a moment. He held out his bucket.  The woman tossed a few full-sized Snickers bars into the bucket.

              “Happy Halloween!” the woman chirped as they walked away.

              “You too, Mrs. Applesmith!” Angie called. Stan gaped at the candy in his bucket. “What’s wrong with ya?”

              “Is she brain damaged or somethin’?  Why’d she give us full-sized candy bars?  And more than one?” Stan asked, aghast. Angie grinned.

              “Small town.  Folks tend to be a bit more generous.”  She nudged him.  “Does that change yer stance on trick-or-treating?”

              “Are all the houses like this?”

              “Fer the most part.”

              “Then, yeah, I’m changing my mind.”  Stan looped his arm through Angie’s.  “Might as well spend my last year trick-or-treating in style.”

[humunanunga]

As I had some free time, I created sprites for the last of the canon appearing scalemates

Petty Officer Applescab (from merch)

Officer Cinnamonwhiff (from paradox space)

Sir Applesmith

And unnamed black scalemate (from friendsim)

Enjoy

[applesmith]

RIP

[8bitsperminute]

It’d been odd, for TP Girl to just...leave, in the middle of their fight. I mean, certainly even TP Girl had a life outside of villainy, just like I had a life working at Smith and Smithson’s(TM) and painting on the weekend. Once again, foresight would make me realize that she had left at 8:00, when all the local schools started, but hindsight’s 20/20. What I was not expecting to arise out of any of this was a phone call, regarding a student by the name of Marie Ann.

I was sleeping when the shrill sound of Ain’t Nothing But A Heartbreak shook me out of my stupor. Apparently, I was listed as the emergency number to a girl at the local high school I have already forgotten the name of. Honestly, all I wanted to do was hang up and go back to sleep under the warm of the blankets, but the idea of this Ann Marie sitting at school, waiting for whoever was her real emergency contact weighed on my mind, so I stayed on the line. Despite my numerous assurances that I was not Marie Clarion, Marie Ann still insisted that this was the number she listed as an emergency contact, meaning I had no choice but to forgo the thought I could go back to sleep. Mournfully staring back at the bed and wrapping a tone around my body, I walked to my car and entered the address of the school in the GPS.

Rapping my fingers on the wooden desk beneath me, as the clacking noise of heels approached, I scoured my mind for any memories of a girl named Marie Ann. It wasn’t a unique name by any measure, and I did have my fair share of... over-eager fans, but they only knew me by my super-hero name, Clarion. The sound of someone slumping down into the seat next to mine jolted me out of my thoughts. Either way, by looking at Marie I could finally figure out how I knew her. I stared at her from my periphery, searching for an ephiphany, but nothing came. Before I could think further, or ask her how she knew me, her teacher, presumably, turned to me. She then began to tell me about a litany of pranks that Marie had ‘terrorized’ the school with(a tad bit dramatic considering her worst prank was just TPing the library.) As she continued to list off the pranks and I continued to try to stiffle my laughter, Marie explained that she was not the perpertator of the latest crime, TPing the bathroom. Mrs. Applesmith sat and leaned back, obviously attempting to pretend she was mulling it over when she definitely wasn’t, when I suggested I would bring Marie on Monday with an admission of guilt. Certainly it would be better for Marie to learn to take accountaibility of her actions instead of blaming them on someone else. Marie shot a slightly betrayed look, but the teacher shook my hand, and a deal was born.

If I was choking on guilt in the classroom, I was downright suffocating on it in the car. «Did you do it?» I tried to ask carefully, so she knew she could tell the truth. «Which one?» There was something familiar about the bite in that retort, there was something familiar about Marie in general, but I still couldn’t quite place it. «The last one, the TPing in the bathroom.» «No.» Her response was quick and her voice wasn’t shaky, but there were only so many tells you could check for while keeping an eye on the road. Still, there was one comment that helped me sniff out a liar in pretty much any situation, and that was, «Well, y’know I’m a lawyer» « Yeah, I’ve seen your sign on the bustop bench» «Exactly, so as a lawyer I am telling you if you did this you can get away with less time by fessing up». Fuck, the guilt would kill me, because as familiar as Marie seemed to be in so many aspects, something told her Marie was just as familiar with being accused of being guilty. Which, considering all the pranks, made sense, but it still hurt me all the same. «Okay and if you’re not guilty, I’ll help find the person who did this. But you have to promise you didn’t do it. Actually pinky-promise. Wait, I’m driving.» Marie’s face was hard to read, especially from the angle of a driver, but the quiet, «Scout’s Honor» seemed to carry an air of gratitude, and the guilt shrank away. Still, though there was a question of why a random high schooler had listed her as an emergency contact. «Before I start this investigation, I have to ask about where your parents or guardians are?» The drawn out silence reawakened the guilt that had evaporated just moments before, but Marie eventually turned to her and told them they had died only a few months prior, and as a seventeen year old, she knew she could take care of herself just fine. Crap, fiddlesticks, shit, I was getting involved and I did not want to be involved. But I understood Marie’s perspective, and as both a lawyer and superhero I had seen firsthand experience of just how cruel the foster care system. A hushed «Are you going to report me?» forced me to come to a decision. «You could get emancipated.» « I just want to go home.I don’t want a piece of paper telling me I’m an adult now because my parent’s are dead.» Crap, fiddlesticks, crap, crap. «Fine, let’s make another deal, you call me at least once a week, I will Venmo you for expenses, and in return I will not report you. Deal?» «Deal».

Today had been exhausting and had ended with the semi-adoption of a teenager, but there was something telling me I was missing something. It came when I saw toilet paper strung on the entrance to Marie’s apartment when she dropped her off, it came when I kept remembering the abundance of toilet paper in all those ‘crime-scenes.’ I tried to sleep, tossing and turning but something felt off. Toilet paper, that was it. Grabbing my crime-scene board from the closet I scrabbled toilet paper on a sheet of paper and stuck it in the middle. It was all connected. Those photos weren’t staged by a teacher dramatizing a teenage student’s prank, they were set there by the person committing those acts, those acts that were oddly reminiscient of TP Girl’s fight scenes. Marie Ann was...TP girl.

You’d known, intellectually, that your heroic nemesis was a teenager, but it didn’t really sink in until the day their school called because your number was the only one on their emergency contact list.

[bearalove]

+@#! Boyds Bears Jonathan Applesmith Apple 6" Plaid Plush Stuffed Animal https://ift.tt/3g1cyD7

[gillian-ybabez]

Cipher Codex - The Departure

<<Previous

Mrs. Judith Applesmith, professor of Old English studies, currently on sabbatical. checked her watch as the taxi pulled up in front of their house. “We’re early,” she said.

“How early,” Mrs. Barbara Applesmith, Judith’s wife, computer programmer, specialty cryptology, asked.

“Just a couple of minutes.” She leaned forward to speak to the driver, “Can we wait here a couple of minutes?”

“Sure, the meter’s still running,” the driver said.

“That’s fine we may not be staying anyway.” The driver nodded. She sat back in the seat and said quietly to Barbara, “Do you think it’ll make a noise?”

Barbara glanced out at their house, “Depends on whether it’s an exchange of matter or –” a thunderclap interrupted her.

The driver jumped in her seat and looked at the sky, “Weather report didn’t say anything about rain.”

“Ok so it’s a one way transport of matter through time,” Barbara said. They exited the cab and looked at their house from the sidewalk. “From the outside the damage doesn’t look that bad.”

“Dear, the garage is sagging,” Judith said.

“I was talking about the house. You can see part of a hole in the side but it’s not collapsed.”

“Yet. I’m going to look inside. Stay here and be ready to call for an ambulance if the house comes crashing down on me.” She gave Barbara a peak on the check, strode up to the front door and peeked inside. The ovid hole in the wall stretched almost the length of the living room. It curved up into the ceiling and down into the foundation. There was also a similar hole in the floor boards around a shallow divot in the foundation. In the ceiling a hole opened up a view into the upper floor. These holes, she knew, were not separate events but rather the end result of an egg shaped chunk of space being transported somewhere else, somewhen else, by the machine those two kids, twenty-somethings really but they looked so young to her, had built in her garage with her funding.

“Whoa, that’s weird looking. It’s like a negative space picture,” Barbara said looking over Judith’s shoulder.

“I thought I asked you to stay back.”

“And let you have all the fun? Not a chance. So, what do we do now?”

“I don’t like the look of the ceiling so we’ll stay in the apartment for now. I’ll call a contractor and see about getting some supports put in and a tarp over the garage. You can start emailing physicists and engineers the first page of notes about the machine. We’re off the book from here on out. It’s up to us to save the kids from the past. Somehow.”

<<Previous

"Cipher Codex – The Departure" was also posted on my website, Gillian's Notebook, home of my writing. Help support my writing by becoming a patron. Reblogs help to spread my writing to new readers.

[bonusgla]

Boyds Collection Jonathon Applesmith 6" Jointed Teddy Bear Plush Plaid Apple P37

http://dlvr.it/N8XLBJ

[mariowiki]

ouo

[rethreadzandmore]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Boyd's Bear - Tucqer Applesmith - T.J.'s Best Dressed Collection 94896GCC 10".

[nerdycakez]

what if our gemsonas fuse B-)

[lgbtcartoonnetworkheadcanons]

153: Grizz is gay or panromantic.

Submitted by applesmith