#now for content tags

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(*Smashes through the door* I have finished the thing

I did lose steam part of the way through, so the ending is a little tepid, but I think it's still cute, hehe

Basically, this is 'Pep experiences fireworks for the first time and it is not fun'

Content warnings for: Depiction of a panic attack, self-harm (unintentional but still), descriptions of body horror, (sorta) flashback to war, an implied gun, and Peppino says fuck

Okay enjoy! (1,403 words under dere!!!)

It was busy.

Busier than usual.

Unusual for a Tuesday, but Pep didn't mind. He was more than happy to create and share his pizzas with others. But all the extra business aside, something else was unusual today, and Pep could not stop tasting it.

There was a constant saltiness to Peppino, most likely due to how much the man sweat, but the ever-growing pungency of raw onions and black pepper began to give his doppelgänger cause for concern. Was it just the amount of people visiting today? Was something going to happen? Pep did not know, but the thoughts caused his own anxieties to start bubbling in his chest. He chose not to ask, instead continuing on with helping Peppino close up shop for the evening.

The sky was very pretty at this time. Oranges, pinks and purples, as the sun said goodbye for today. Pep liked to watch the colours shift and change into deeper blues and indigos, but it didn't feel right today. He lifted his head from his arms, parts of where his chin and forearms began to merge getting pulled apart, and looked at the door of Peppino's room. It was made quite clear early on not to disturb him when the door was closed, and Pep respected his space, despite the gnawing urge to knock on his door. The clone gave a quiet huff, again noting the taste of pepper and onions, and… Something bitter…? Oh, cilantro… Yuck. Pep hadn't figured out what that taste was for Peppino yet, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant one. His eyes rolled in their sockets for a moment, trying to recall memories of cilantro. He thought back to just a few hours ago - Peppino did seem hesitant to say goodbye to Gustavo and Brick… Was it something to do with them?

Pep didn't have much time to ponder, as a shrill sound pierced through his thoughts, shattering them with a BANG. He was suddenly on high alert, skin inhumanely stretched up into points along his back and shoulders. There was another screeeeeech, and a BANG. His chest heaved as simulated breath grew tight in his non-existent lungs. And another. His nails dug into the windowsill, the black colouring beginning to spiral up his fingers. And another. Pep's vision started to blur as his eyeballs melted in his form of crying, but he could still see with every boom, colours flashed and danced outside. Was this some sort of warning? An attack? He couldn't make sense of it, as yet another BANG brought his hands to his ears. His doughy skin making a wet slap against itself as his fear made his form quickly unstable. There were other sounds too - crackling, popping, screaming… Or was it cheering…? - It didn't matter! Pep wanted it all blocked out, as he held onto his head tighter and tighter. His hands fused into his ears and cheeks, becoming unrecognisable as what they were supposed to be. But his fingers held strong, now striped with black as his sharpened nails buried themselves deep into his head. Every boom jolted him to his core. The smell of gunpowder made him sick- No, wait- He didn't know what that was? Did he? He felt himself sink further and further down into the mud. His lower body was caked in the stuff- No! There was no mud-! Why is there mud? Pep managed a look down, finding not a puddle of his legs, but… Boots? He didn't… Wear boots? Did he? He saw… Shrapnel around his feet. Discarded, pointed pieces of metals… But how did he know that? He couldn't of known that- Another BANG, followed by the crackling once more. He braced himself against the wall as dirt was thrown up into the air nearby. His grip tightened around the cool metal. Finger ready on the trigger- On the what? His hands were practically nothing! How was he holding-

"…-p…!"

…Huh?

"…-ep…!"

Something was warm. Warm, and clammy… It was frantic, but still gentle, as it pawed at him.

"Pep!"

Through all the bangs and pops, Pep heard Peppino, calling for him. Even though his body was just a puddle, he found his eyes and forced them to the surface of his being. Peppino leaned over him, looking more stressed than usual. Sweat beading down his face and something slick and oily on his hands…? Oh… That was himself… Pep force an ear to form, as Peppino seemed to be saying something, but it was too muffled to understand, and too fast for him to lip-read.

"-uda told you! I shoulda stayed out here! Fuck! Please be okay-!"

Pep just barely managed to process his words, most of his focus on trying to keep his features formed. His eyelids closed hard over his eyes, blinking a few times as his brow came together. He could feel his fingers forming, trying to pull himself out of himself. A dull, thudding pain made itself known, as his brain reformed, along with most of his head. His eyes weren't quite back in their oversized sockets, but Pep did notice Peppino's shoulders relax a little. Teeth and tongue came next, clumsily gnashing together in an attempt to speak, but it only came out as garbled, incomprehensible sounds.

"Hey! Hey! It's alright! Uh, take your time… Getting back together?" Peppino spoke slower than earlier, but there was anxiety on the edge of his words. Pep managed a soft noise in acknowledgement, pushing the parts of his face into the correct places. His neck and shoulders started to form, but he quickly felt the exhaustion weighing on him. He would not be able to form all the way. But he could at least pull as much of his melted lower half in as possible, becoming more compact and less of a puddle.

Peppino watched his clone slowly come together, but not as the tall and lanky, almost-passable person he usually was. Instead, as his dough was peeled off his palms like glue, Pep was only a few inches tall. This was not the first time Peppino had seen Pep change his size, but this was different. His legs remained as a puddle, and he looked more like a very soggy stuffed animal than a person, with a much larger head and eyes. The tiny Pep squeaked softly, holding his hands out and looking up to him. Peppino understood, and gently scooped him up, carrying him and sitting down on the couch with him in his hands. He could clasp his hands together and Pep would be completely covered… It was much easier to hide when you're so small. The idea sounded nice to him. Comforting almost. Peppino was brought out of his thoughts by another small squeak coming from his hands. Pep was looking up at him again, pointing to his head and miming a spiral coming from it. Fuck. What did Hazel say this meant again…? Pep mimed the gesture again, and then pointed to the window. Outside…? Oh…

"The sounds outside…?"

Pep nodded, and then mimed once more.

"Yeah, they are loud… But they-a should have stopped for now…" Peppino gave a small sigh, looking to the window. At least he hoped they stopped.

Pep held up his index finger and waved it for a moment. Peppino knew this one.

"They were fireworks. People shoot them into the sky and they explode in colours and-a lights."

Pep's brow furrowed for a moment, before holding up the same finger and touching his chest with the side of his hand. Peppino also knew this one - Pep liked to use it a lot.

"They use them when it's a celebration. I don't-a really get it… And I don't really like it either…" Peppino sighed again, a longer one this time. He was tired.

Despite the many questions popping into his head, Pep could taste green beans. He was quite tired too, instead deciding to nestle against Peppino's chest. He found that rhythmical thump-thump-thumping that he learnt about recently was soothing to him. Even if the noises - the 'fireworks' - came back, he imagined he would feel alright where he was.

Peppino couldn't help an amused huff as the tiny clone snuggled closer to him. Guess he wouldn't be making dinner just yet, so he leaned back into the cushions, keeping a hand around Pep as he dozed off.

"Night, Pep."

[hinamie]

subject, specimen, spectacle;

should i say that you're dead?

[microwave-core]

I think it'd be very funny if there was a Zelda game where Ganon isn't the big bad, but when you get to the Gerudo area there's a male Gerudo named Ganondorf there. He has zero relevance to the plot. Not any kind of twist where he becomes the villain in the end, or any kind of side quest. He's just there and that knowledge perpetually looms over your head menacingly.

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce Wayne is canonically a very handsome man (he is called a "pretty boy" and he is in his 40s, for fuck's sake), and he is pretty famous as a rich philanthropist who doesn't want to leave his awful cursed crime infested city. So, there must be a ton of people thirsting over him on the internet. Fancams, edits, fanfics and imagines ("kidnapped with Bruce Wayne 😍 by a Gotham rogue"), the whole charade!

And anytime one of the batkids stumbles on a thirst post, they have the most dramatic disgusted reaction, loudly gagging, before sending the link to the batkids chat, because if they must suffer, then they should all suffer. Clicking on a link in this groupchat is like playing russian roulette, and getting rickrolled is a good ending.

[vulturevanity]

A Father's Purpose

Someone asks Martin if he actually cares about his daughters. He laughs at the joke he thinks they made.

Alternative version and thoughts under the Read More (please read the content warnings in the tags before clicking through!)

Epithet: ☆Dumb☆

Martin Blyndeff is a carefree man.

Despite his uncomplicated character, I have plenty of thoughts on Worst Dad and his impact on his daughters -- particularly Lorelai, but she isn't the focus on this piece and I'll talk about her another day.

I think what gets me about Martin and Molly is how efficient he is at shutting her down. Whether or not he's aware of what he's doing (it doesn't matter), it's really telling how smoothly he's able to do it. In the Museum Arc, he unloads another night shift onto her, rapid-fires excuses for why she has to take the night shift, takes credit for the school worksheet which she filled out, then changes subjects so she'll drop it. And he does it often enough that Lorelai has caught on to it, to the point that the first thing she does in the book is use his name to shut Molly down too. No matter what, if it's up to Martin, then Molly will have to shut up and deal.

I wonder how much of this DARVO-adjacent behaviour is a result of losing Calliope, if at all. I mean, I really, REALLY can't see how someone like Calliope would've fallen for Martin as he is today; we know he's always been the personification of the word "carefree" and Callie was an anxious workaholic mess, but honestly the Martin we see would probably just constantly stress her out even more (which he did sometimes). He was already rather senseless back then, but I can't help but think having Calliope to take on every burden for him for over 15 years and then losing her so suddenly must have exarcebated the learned helplessness. And since Molly was the one who took over, he just went "well I guess it's her job now", dusted off and went right back to his little world of toys and blissful obliviousness.

And speaking of Molly. She was suffering so much in that house, and yes, there have been plenty of walls of text about the verbal and emotional abuse she suffered from Lorelai, but I feel like we don't talk enough about Martin's complete dismissal of her feelings, thoughts and protests, and how deeply that affected her. He was the one who taught her no one would listen to her. He was he reference point Lorelai used to take advantage of her. He parentified Molly and made her bear the brunt of their financial troubles. And he did it all with a genuine smile across his face.

Martin Blyndeff sucks and I think we should talk about him more.

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Ik it's a bit early but I can't believe it's been almost one year since this post

Btw yeah its real

[hwanwooyoung]

my knight in shining armour 🏍️

[screwpinecaprice]

Actually cute. Had to do a quick redraw.

Screenshot is from when Jay lit up the Jack-o'-lantern in the living room.

[korkiekenobiconfirmed]

"hey my bf and I saw you from across the tavern and we really dig your vibe. dw he's a switch"

[thesmpisonfire]

How the fuck can i keep my fucking whimsy in these conditions

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

hey you know what would be like. the WORST possible thing? if no time had passed for mortals during God Games. if the entire time, Odysseus had just been frozen on that ledge. and at the start of the Vengeance Saga, Ody's still on the ledge. he looks to the skies, to the trees, out over the ocean. he looks for an owl with knowing eyes and strains to hear her voice over the waves, because surely, surely she'd come for him. the haven't spoken in nine years and he ruined whatever relationship they had when he stupidly, foolishly let the cyclops live, but she has to still care, right? she was his mentor. she was his patron. he meant something to her. he's sure of it

but she's not there. he waits, but she's not there. he closes his eyes, sparing himself the view, and steps off the ledge

and is saved by Hermes. and Odysseus briefly thinks that he has died, since Hermes escorts souls to the underworld. but Hermes assures him that, no, he's alive, Athena heard him, she bargained with Zeus, he can go home now. he can finally go home

his friend came through

[hollowwish]

You guys do realize a lot of watcher fans complaining about the six dollars don't just need to "cancel their disney+ or hulu subscriptions." They're the people who ALREADY can't afford streaming services. It's not that they should be supporting independent creators over big corporations, it's that they literally cannot afford to do either.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

substitute

[aforgottenthing]

Tragedy enjoyers when there’s not one, not two, but three combinations of tragic relationships at the center of the narrative AND they’re bisexual

[totorantula]

hello alan becker tumblr fandom . is this anything