#feeling insecure today

[maylilithreign]

Fat ass this, fat ass that. Can we get some love for pancake asses out here? 😫

[redbleedingrose]

WIPs being Posted Later Today (hopefully)

I plan on posting two, that’s right, two Eris x Fem!Reader fics today if I can get my anki done!! ✨🤩

1. 5 times Eris fell in love with his best friend and the 1 time he did something about it

2. Eris comforts you - this will be for all my chubby readers insecure about their weight because been there, done that (I don’t have this one planned out yet, but someone made a comment about my weight today (cuz I am kinda a chubby girly)) and I think this would be a good outlet for my feelings cuz the only reason I stopped crying was thinking about Eris comforting me and telling me I’m his most beautiful beloved. 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Anyways, don’t make comments about people’s weight or eating habits!! You’re gross if you do!!

[prettybabybaby]

what’s w all the spam liking today ? you can comment something too you know :-(

[theswedishpajas]

Based on my favorite gif lately

[fakeanimalperson]

he sucks at his job

[yardsards]

looking back at steven universe and god. that show had such good diversity in their designs that very few animated shows before or since it have had. like there's the obvious diversity in race and weight representation but also just like. all the different body shapes and hair types and facial features. all of which were depicted without being a shorthand for a character being Gross And Comically Ugly (or worse, evil). like i think watching that show in my teen years (which are like. peak years for developing body based insecurities) was good for my self esteem. because with pretty much any trait that i had that i was made to feel bad about, there would be a character from my favourite show that had that trait.

[petrichara]

Actually I’m not going to listen to you describe a feature of my body like a problem while trying to sell me your product

[screechingfromthevoid]

@disastertourwaterdeepedition

Sorry for the weird fucking post but like tumblr straight up ate your ask?? I had to search and screenshot from my email??

Its like super fine I love big rants and big feelings (especially about the blorbo of the month).

Whoa buddy if you wanna talk about a rant. This got so long I'm putting it under a read more.

I'm not sure any of this is above board conscious thought process. When he looks to Orym, when he thinks about how he feels about Orym, I think Dorian, king of compartmentalizing, gets a rush of all three of the things in the post. He gets a little too lost in thought looking at the way Orym's hair now tries to curl against his ear or how well tailored the armor is to his body, he first gets hit with the Will guilt. Then he thinks about "ohmygodtheresawaron" and he'd shovel all of that down. Because its not time to think about Orym and him. But he knows by the way Orym watches him "sleep". He knows by the way Orym refused to be princess carried in Aeror. (Seriously dude Dorian princess carries everyone. It would have been less suspicious if you let it happen). He knows because Orym didn't see his husband when they were in Zephrah. But when he dares himself to actually think about a possible future together, he uses the big three to shove it down. And no, he has no clue that Orym thinks he doesn't return his feelings. (Wow you're right. Pronouns are hard)

Lol to finally answer your question: I'm not sure! Because the thing is! Orym has gone down twice in a battle with Dorian there! And honestly if Orym being on death's door doesn't make either of them confess, i'm not sure what will! (thats a lie I do have an idea). But like Orym went to the moon and back and almost died on the moon and all the count communicate to Dorian was "I miss you"!! Orym nearly died twice in one battle and he didn't think to give Dorian a sloppy, "If I die again I want to have kissed you once" kiss before going in for another round of getting hacked on. Dorian watched him go down and had to bring him back from death's door (one failed save scared the shit out of me) and he didn't think to give Orym a "We need you, I need you" kiss.

My unfortunate thought process, which I can't decide if I want it to come true or not, is that Dorian has to get hurt. Like when I say hurt I fucking mean it. Taken down in a round or two, two failed death saves, hurt. Because then Orym will have to face losing Dorian again. Face losing the man he loves, again. He pours a healing potion into Dorian's mouth because warlocks don't have a single healing spell. (Just checked). Orym feels so helpless in saving Dorian, because a healing potion isn't nearly enough to keep him up. He starts to cry over Dorian's (now conscious) body. He whispers between sobs "Not again, not again. Dorian you can't leave me. I love you, please, I never got to tell you, please stay alive." and Dorian, having heard all of that, reaches up to cup Orym's cheek and says. "Alright, just for you though."

Or something like that.

As much as I would love for them to be adults and just talk to each other. I know thats not going to happen. (Please, Robbie, Liam, prove me wrong.) So I think major tragedy will be the reason they confess to each other. Because they're idiots in love with a lot of weight on their shoulders.

[politemagic]

iii’s dainty ankles captivate me.

-🦆

fuck it iii ankle appreciation post because they truly are captivating

i am gnawing on his tendons. cronching on his talus.

[denpa-dere]

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always. 

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him. 

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell. 

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard. 

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things. 

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape. 

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you. 

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you. 

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you. 

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.��

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

[shulkerbullets]

drench my soul

[teethburger]

peri gets all annoyed and embarrassed when his parents are being gushy, but I just know that he actually really likes the validation of knowing how much they love him

[yandere-yearnings]

i do have words and a story to tell,

it's just really fucking hard sometimes when

these are all pieces of me i feel like i should keep to myself.

[bicayaya]

am i ready to come back?

[starswirly]

[ * school suck of creativity + apathy? + guilt(?) over anything I could hope to create = not fun ]

[legobiwan]

Mario and Luigi "no one is going to hurt you"?

This one...ballooned. I tried to get it out last night, but fell asleep during the endeavor. This is an attempt to explain/rationalize/make sense of some of the behaviors we see during TTYD, especially as it concerns Mario and Luigi. I'll say right now, neither brother is his best at this point, and I have a bit of a hypothesis as to where each of them may have been, emotionally, during this game. I think TTYD is a turning point for Mario, while Luigi's emotional lynchpin comes, to no surprise, after the events of SPM. Anyway, I'm not going to try and edit this any more than the perfunctory attempt I made. Here you go. A Mario-centric drabble that is most definitely not a drabble.

~~~~~~~~~

My dear Mario,

I have finally learned what the legendary treasure is. It is the spirit of a demon! The X-Nauts plan to revive this thousand-year-old monster and use its power to take over the world! They’re collecting the Crystal Stars so they can open the Thousand-Year-Door..they’ll find this demon’s spirit..but the only thing that can keep it locked away is the Crystal Stars themselves! You must not let them get the Crystal Stars! Please, Mario...you must put a stop to their horrible plans!

-Princess Peach-

Mario rubbed at his eyes, scraping away a week’s work of fatigue. 

Shit.

When Peach had first told him the X-Nauts (and what a stupid name that was) were planning on taking over the world, he had laughed it off. Ever since he had landed in the Mushroom Kingdom, every fifth jabroni from the castle to the Darklands had been some kind of aspiring universal tyrant, babbling on and on about taking over realms, how their new regime would be the mightiest, how they should fear me or fear my army or fear my power, all accompanied by cackling laughter suitable for Saturday morning cartoon. The threats were white noise to him now, another meaningless boast in the endless series of hopped-up, dent-headed, peas-for-brains bad guys who popped out of the brickwork like potholes on the Cross Bronx.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been taking this whole adventure seriously before this. After all, the last time he got sent on a quest to find stars, he ended up facing off against an army of sentient weaponry bent on…well, yeah. World domination.. But those guys had actually meant business, less wanting to rule the world than reforge it, in the most literal sense, in their image. Hell, Geno wouldn’t have been sent down all the way down from Star Heaven or whatever it had been unless Smithy and his crew were the real thing.

But now Peach was kidnapped and demons were involved. And they needed the Crystal Stars to trap the demon, but those same stars would also release the demon in the first place. Mario pulled his cap close to his eyes, sagging against the public notice board in Rogueport Square, the rotten wood protesting under his added weight. Across the plaza, the gallows swayed in tandem with an oncoming breeze, the smell of spoiled fish and brine wafting over and mixing with the lingering odor of cheap booze and sweat that was the hallmark of Rogueport’s business center. 

Delightful.

Vivian had remarked, once they resurfaced from that whole mess in Twilight Town, that the port city had a certain grimy charm to it. Mario huffed, kicking away a crumpled can of Banditbar Ale. Yeah, this place had charm, all right. All the charm of a Staten Island landfill. 

“Why yes, Vivian, I spent close to twenty years as the premiere actress with the Mushroom Repertory Theater, although back when we first started, it was known only as “The Toad Troupe.” Flurrie laughed in her distinctive trill, her voice resonating from what Mario placed as the archway leading to the west side of Rogueport. “A silly name, but our founder was devoid of that creative spark that captures the imagination and whisks the audience away on a journey with you. Of course, he was a rather talented fundraiser.”

Mario grunted, sliding around to the backside of the noticeboard, which was covered in layers of colorful graffiti and three decades worth of dirt. One bright, recent message spelled out a rather graphic enthusiasm for certain body parts, ones Mario wasn’t even certain Goombas had. Not that he was about to ask. Half the population here would shank him for even thinking of the question. Goombella would drop a book on his head.

He slumped at the thought of the petite, boisterous grad student. Goombella, Flurrie, Koops - even Yoshnar. Not one of them had questioned it, had shown any suspicion that the Mario they were celebrating with, were feasting with in Twilight Town was not, in fact, their supposed friend. Sure, they commented here and there that Mario was acting a little strange, was a bit more bombastic than normal, but no one stood up and announced, that’s not our guy!

Granted, he had only known these people for a week. Not nearly enough time to get the measure of a person in the real world, but that had never hindered his traveling companions before. Geno and Mallow seemed to think the world of him.

Mario curled his fist. He should have interrogated Doopliss when he had the chance, should have pulled the truth right out from under his smug-faced bedsheets. Was it a mimicry of only the body, or did Doopliss’s magic also copy the whole of a man, as well?

And why did his friends believe that egotistical, grandstanding fraud had been him?

“Where is Mario?” Flurrie asked, her voice closer now than it had been a minute ago. She had a habit of elongating her vowels to the point of absurdity, so Mario became Mahrio, emphasis on the ah. He had given up trying to correct her after the first hour of their acquaintance. Some things weren’t worth the fight.

Mario snuck a careful look around the edge of the noticeboard, biting his lip as a mess of dirty splinters poked through his skin. His traveling companions were gathered near the entrance to the Toad Bros Bazaar, Koops worrying at his hands as he fretted about Mario being kidnapped, or worse, continuing to Keelhaul Key without them. 

“Don’t worry, Koops,” Vivian soothed. “I’m sure he’s just gathering information or reading an electronic message from Peach.”

Goombella looked up from her notebook with a small frown. “I hope it’s not important intel. I need to write that data down so I can report back to Professor Frankly.”

“I can’t go back to Petalburg without…” The voices faded out of earshot, the door to the shop closing with a brash jingle. 

Mario unclenched his teeth, letting out an unsteady breath. He’d have to come back with them at some point. Maybe Doopliss saw something in him he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge, but Mario knew he’d be in way over his head if tried to take on the X-Nauts and this demon alone. Do like you always do, Mario. Suck it up, put on a smile, and say as little as possible. It had gotten him this far, whatever that counted for. Now, as for this Flavio -

“Hey, bro!” 

A hand clapped itself on his shoulder. Enemy, his mind blared, Mario grabbing at the interloper’s wrist, spinning the man around until he slammed into the announcement board with a pained “Oof!” Not one to let an advantage go to waste, Mario lunged forward, pushing his forearm into the man’s chest, close enough to his attacker’s trachea to leave no question as to the unspoken threat.

“Mario, what the hell?” A familiar voice squeaked. 

Anxiety spiked in Mario’s gut. Luigi? What in the world was his brother doing in -

Mario closed his eyes, letting out a soft hiss between his teeth as the realization hit. Damnit. The Waffle Kingdom. Princess Cannoli or whatever her name was. Mario released his hold on his brother, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a step back. I don’t have time for this. Luigi shouldn’t have been in Rogueport at all, somehow making his way to the crime-infested city in the days after Mario had received the letter from Peach asking him to come investigate a treasure map.  

And look where that got her. Kidnapped by aliens with crappy names. He knew Luigi could handle himself, or at least, he could in Brooklyn. Coming to the Mushroom Kingdom had done a number on his brother’s confidence, however, and whatever predilection for gangly awkwardness Luigi had had before had grown since they vanished from New York. 

He didn’t have time to protect his brother and save Peach and save the world from a demon. 

“Bro?” Luigi reached a tentative hand towards Mario’s shoulder. 

It didn’t add up, this whole Waffle Kingdom business. Not that he didn’t believe in Luigi, but nothing over the past year had convinced him his brother was ready to set out on his own, the whole incident with the Boos aside. Now he was on a quest which, on the surface, sounded far too close to Mario’s own exploits in trying to gather the seven crystal stars. He knew his brother could be insecure, but this was really…

Mario’s eyes went wide as he slapped away his brother’s hand, planting his feet into a defensive stance, fists raised. 

It was Doopliss. It had to be. Had the identity-pilfering ghost been following him from the beginning? Or were those Shadow Sirens working for him, feeding him enough tidbits about Luigi to make a convincing copy? That would account for his brother’s strange tales, the majority he didn’t have the stamina to focus through, there being too much on his mind with all the plans and kidnappings and cursed chests.

“I beat you before, you son of a bitch, and I’ll do it again,” Mario growled, pushing his sleeves up his arms. “Give him back.” He needed to get this over with now, get his brother in his own body as soon as possible so Mario could track down the last stars. Damnit, why did Luigi have to wander off like this?

“Woah!” Luigi held both his palms up at shoulder height, scrambling backwards, knocking over a trio of half-filled bottles with a bright clang as he came up against the graffiti-covered noticeboard. A pungent yellow stream seeped from one of the fallen bottles, trickling into the eroded mortar between uneven cobblestones. 

“No one’s going to hurt you, Mario. There’s - “ Luigi grabbed a tuft of hair peeking out from under his cap. “There’s no one here but me. Well, me and Torque. And the rest of Rogueport.” Luigi gave an awkward laugh. “And, you know, Torque’s not here here, he’s inside the bar. But you get what I mean.” He gave his brother an uncertain smile, holding two thumbs-up in front of his chest. 

“Where have you been? What were you doing before this?” Mario demanded, voice rising.

The miserable droop in his brother’s shoulders was unmistakable. “I…told you already? The volcano, the sacrifice? Blooey and Jerry and the bridal dress? I mean, I know it’s not as important as what you’re doing…” Luigi trailed off, finding sudden interest in the variety of grisly stains tattooed on the ground, tracing a disturbingly crimson outline with his foot.

Mario grit his teeth. That was something Luigi would say, right down to the shaky little inflections. Was his brother always this insecure? Had he been ignoring something deeper going on with Luigi for the past year? Something unpleasant curdled in Mario’s gut. He hadn’t wanted to face the fact that Doopliss mirrored his identity, warts and all. Was this the Luigi his brother saw in his reflection every day? Did Luigi even know how sad this looked?

Maybe it was Doopliss. Then again, from what little he remembered from his brother’s stories about his supposed Waffle Kingdom exploits, his own traveling companions were less than impressed with Luigi’s tactics, which seemed to be the literal definition of stumbling into good luck. 

As much as he hated to think it, Doopliss probably had better things to do than wreak havoc on a quest that may or may not have its basis in reality. It was true Luigi had made an astonishing number of enemies in a short period, but Princess Eclair seemed like something straight out of one of those adventure books they had liked so much as kids. He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of his brother hanging around Rogueport, but as long as all this Waffle Kingdom stuff was harmless - well, it would at least keep Luigi out of the underlevels and far, far away from the Thousand Year Door and whatever evil lay behind it.

The communication square in his back pocket vibrated. It was probably Goombella demanding to know where the hell he was. Mario brought his arms to his side, stretching out his fingers. He needed to focus. Whatever happened with Doopliss was in the past and he could waste away his time navel-gazing once this entire ordeal was over. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mario stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Luigi. It’s - “ Mario pursed his lips, weighing his words. “A lot has happened in the last few days.”

Luigi let out a watery chuckle, running his sleeve under his nose. “Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, gaze still fixed to the ground. 

Great, like your brother needed another kick to the ego. Way to go, asshole. Mario dug his fingers into Luigi’s shoulder. Maybe Doopliss’s replication of him hadn’t been that far off the mark, after all. 

“Hey, Lou,” he gave his brother a gentle shake. “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend? Squort or Morque, was it?”

“Torque,” his brother mumbled.

“Torque! Great! Let’s go meet him!” Mario said too brightly, taking his brother by the arm, all but dragging him towards Podley’s bar. 

“Come on, Mario, you don’t have to - “ Luigi huffed, trying to pull himself out of his brother’s octopus-like grip. “I know you don’t want to - “

Mario shoved the door to the bar open, wrangling Luigi inside, depositing his brother next to a Spike Top with a wrench on his head. The little creature made a series of rapid clicks with its mouth, somehow conveying annoyance without uttering a single intelligible word or facial expression. The Spike Top glowered at his brother, if the dead, beady-eyed stare could be called that, before turning around with an exaggerated shuffle.

Six to one, that’s Torque, Mario mused, feeling a momentary pang of sympathy for his brother. Oh Luigi, we have to talk about this one of these days. But that was for later. After the crystal stars, after Peach was safe, after the world was saved. Right now, he needed a minute to collect himself, to form a plan to find Flavio and get to Keelhaul Key, and an excuse to give his companions for his sudden absence.

“Hey Lou, is that your friend?” Mario gestured at the little Spike Top. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “How about you tell me that story?”

Luigi eyed Torque warily, the Spike Top making a slight turn so its face was again visible. Luigi gave a sheepish wave in his direction, Torque responding with a loud click of its jaw and a series of buzzes that reminded Mario of a horde of angry cicadas. 

“Heh, he’s excited to hear it again, too,” Mario pressed on, willing himself to be oblivious to the mounting tension between the odd pair. 

“Well,” Luigi rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding looking anywhere near Torque. “If you’re sure…”

“Surer than sure!” Mario exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, throwing his hands up like he was tossing two baseballs into the air. 

His brother gave a small smile, slipping his thumbs behind the straps of his overalls as he uncurled his defensive hunch, voice dropping into a more comfortable storytelling baritone. “Okay, then. It all started like this. Just as our boat arrived on Circuit Island…”

Mario let his brother’s tale wash over him, making appropriate sounds of acknowledgement when necessary. He knew this lapse would come back to bite him in the ass later, but he’d rather have a world he could fight with his brother in than no world at all. He took in a long breath through his nose, holding it at the top for five seconds before releasing it in the opposite manner, careful to not make it sound as if he were sighing in annoyance at his brother’s narrative.

Finding Flavio was his first task. And messaging Goombella, although he was tempted to put the inevitable tongue-lashing off for another few minutes. Flavio first, he decided. The name was familiar, and sworn he had heard it bandied about when he first arrived in Rogueport, barreling through every shop and back-alley headquarters he could find in a blind panic. He knew he needed to find someone who worked on a ship, some sea-faring type, although in this town, that could be anybody from a pirate to a fortune teller to a criminal on the lam. 

It wasn’t like he could just walk around asking if anyone had seen a man with a peg-leg and eyepatch. For as quirky as the Mushroom Kingdom could be, it rarely conformed to his Earth-bound stereotypes. 

“The Skuuuuul Captaaaaaaaaain!” a boisterous voice warbled from a corner table. Mario made a perfunctory nod at his brother - yes, I’m listening - scanning each of the bar patrons until he landed on a short, well-dressed man teetering on the back two legs of his chair. 

“Festiiiivaaaaal!” he bellowed in discordant tones, hugging a bright red gemstone in the shape of a skull with one atm, raising a half-full mug of Chuckola with the other.

Then again, maybe he didn’t need to go around asking about pirates, seeing as one landed in his proverbial lap. The knots in Mario’s stomach unraveled, each freed line replaced by a bit of fluttering optimism he hadn’t felt since his victories in the Glitzville Pit. 

Doopliss was out of the picture. His companions were back and his brother, if not exactly happy, was at least distracted and, more importantly, safe. The man with the fluffy white cravat and maroon jacket caressed the cheekbones of the skull gemstone, singing another loud nonsense verse into its ear. 

Mario let himself smile. He was going to come out on top of this, hell and high water.