#this hella ooc

[callmeoncette]

Currently thinking bout Hobie and his black southern gf (edit: i read over this and realized this could be for anyone so black southern boys and enbies come! Flock to your man!) having a debate about tea and how it’s made.

Like imagine it’s a hot ass day where you live even for you (so you know he cookin cuz they being frying over there when it’s 80 degrees so imagine a southern 90) so you have the great idea to make a pitcher of sweet tea. Now imma just use the way my family makes it as an example.

You and Hobie walk inside slightly panting from the heat. “Damn it’s hot. This global warmin’ shit outta control” you say not even looking as the tall dark skin dramatically collapsed on the floor in front of the couch.

While the air cooled you down you head to the fridge looking for something to drink when you get the urge for some sweet tea, maybe even an Arnold Palmer. You took out a pot to boil some water and then turned to look in the cabinets for tea bags. As you pulled them out you here a deep, “EH?!”

You turn to see Hobie staring at you looking deeply disturbed, “what you doin, love?!” He asked. That you squinted and looked around a bit confused before saying, “ummm, makin’ sweet tea??”

He scoffed, “‘LOW IT!!! In a pot?! Are you mad bruv?!” He exclaimed walking closer. You rolled your eyes and turned back to what you were doing, “don’t bring yo British ass shit in here right now. Im not playin’ with yo ‘chip chip cheerio’ ass. What happened to you not following norms? Find summ safe to do in this heat I’m beggin’ you”

“This is cuz of earlier innit? I don’t go on a mission with you an you do this? Tryna vex me love?”

“BOY!”

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[whatthehickheck]

they are peak alt enby and their bf who’s just some guy representation

[gangrel-pride]

i don’t get this need to turn Ajax into either an asshole or a complete monster in order to break him and Enid up. imo it’s more interesting and fun if they become close friends after their breakup, cause that way he can constantly tease her about her big fat embarrassing crush on Wednesday

Also Enid can wingman for him cause turns out she’s really good at it

[mistystarshine]

Burning Feathers - the line between you and me

“Why are you asking?” Vaggie asked, trying to keep the edge of wariness out of her voice.

“Well, they’re important to you, right? I want to know what they’re like. I want… I want to know why you love them, I guess.”

Vaggie let out the breath that she had come to hold without realizing it.

Charlie didn’t want to know about Lute or Adam’s weaknesses or fighting styles, she wanted to know about them as people. She wanted to understand them, to see them as Vaggie saw them.

Telling the Princess of Hell what the Head Exorcist and his Lieutenant were like as soldiers would be an unforgivable betrayal.

Telling Charlie Morningstar what Adam and Lute were like as people might just be a step in the right direction.

[misteria247]

You know what would be funny?

If Pacifica unintentionally became somewhat friends with Fiddleford.

Like at first he's just known as the hobo she had to hold hands with during the whole Bill fiasco. And then he becomes the guy who bought her parents house. And Pacifica not even thinking about would sometimes walk by her old house because it was her home originally for 12 years. And Fiddleford he'd notice her stopping by and looking at the home from time to time and then one day he's outside and he sees her walking towards the gate.

Fidds doesn't hesitate to call out to her, startling her and Pacifica sees him and she gives him a look that's supposed to be unwelcoming but it's hard to take her seriously when she's blushing from being embarrassed at having been startled. She'll huff and stick her nose up in the air and dramatically storm off in an effort to save face and as she's walking away Fiddleford calls out-

"Stop by again sometime Pacifica!"

And she stops, whirls around and snaps-

"As if old man!"

But despite her saying that, Fidds once again finds her coming back around. And he humors her, getting reactions out of her and finding her amusing instead of intolerable. This continues on and then before Pacifica and Fiddleford realize it, he's invited her inside and they continue their strange friendship. Fiddleford learns that Pacifica's pretty smart and kind despite her snarky and uppity attitude. She just hides it beneath a mask of "I'm better than everyone."

And Pacifica learns that Fiddleford isn't just the crazy town weirdo. Instead he's a genius and to her surprise, beneath his somewhat timid, polite, nature he's got a dry sense of humor and hidden snark under the surface. He's also incredibly sharp and keeps it up his sleeve as his ace.

They bond over the snark and jabs, and they teach each other things without realizing it and for awhile it's this tentative thing till one day Pacifica shows up on Fiddleford's doorstep. Looking miserable and red eyed and Fidds he doesn't hesitate to bring her inside, his dad alarms kicking in much like how they do with Tate. He doesn't say anything, and she doesn't explain it. But an unspoken barrier has been crossed and neither of them mind. They don't knowledge it, mainly for Pacifica and her refusing to do so.

But Fidds doesn't mind it. In a way she reminds him of his son, with the way she handles things. Pacifica would tell him in her own time, and Fiddleford was more than patient with her taking her time.

Afterwards they're basically in a strange mentor/mentee/paternal/unspoken adopted daughter kind of deal.

[inkclover]

made a little something for class—

some rough boards and concept sketches for the vid!

[ask-louis-bonnet]

playing jenga against history’s greatest innkeeper/tactician was….

…an experience.

[frontlincs]

unfollowing and following again is the quickest way to get blocked.

[corcnaiism]

;-- like this post if you'd like a muse of mine to invade your inbox !

[peaches2217]

Useless

TW: Dissociation, Implication of Trauma/PTSD

EDIT: AO3 link!

~~~

“Come back to me.”

This was the second time he was hearing it, Mario realized, that exact combination of sounds. He hadn’t understood it the first time. Heard it, but couldn’t process it. That was Peach’s voice, right? So those sounds were probably directed at him. Maybe?

“Come on,” she spoke again, “come back to me, darling.” Her voice conveyed urgency, yet it was soft all the same. Was she in distress? Where was she? He hoped she would say it again. Something in his chest fluttered at the sound of her voice. It tickled, come to think of it. Was that good or bad?

He tried to breathe, and he did a bit too well at it; it came in a deep, audible gasp, strong enough to drown that fluttery feeling. It kind of hurt, actually. He forced the air back out as quickly as he could and that almost made it better, but now his eyes were watering.

Bad, he decided. Definitely bad.

He blinked. Pink. His hands hovered over pink fabric, partially obscured. They looked strange. They were undoubtedly his hands, callused and hairy, but what was that attached to them? Peach whispered a few more sounds, but he couldn’t quite process them, and the attachments on his hands moved. The sensation was familiar enough, ingrained enough, that he recognized them as another set of hands. Peach’s hands, slender and soft.

Where were his gloves? He had been staring at his own hands for what must have been hours. He remembered, or at least he thought he remembered, her hands peeling back the upper layer of his skin. She had taken them off. She wasn’t wearing gloves either. It had always amazed him, how soft her skin was, how cool her hands felt within his. But now they felt oddly warm.

His right thumb stroked the back of her left hand. Some dull thought permeated the back of his skull, some mix of dread and surprise. His thumb barely moved, tracing an aimless line back and forth across her skin, yet his hand tensed and shook from the effort of moving it.

“Good,” Peach said, and her hands tightened around his fingers. “Squeeze back?”

He worried sometimes, worried that he might hurt her, worried he might forget his own strength at the worst times in the worst ways. So he did his best to follow her request as gently as possible. His fingers twitched. His thumbs pressed into her hands. A tingling sensation crawled up his arms and into his shoulders; the discomfort made him tighten his grasp, which made the unpleasant sensation spread.

“Good!” she repeated. The pink fabric shifted and her voice came nearer. “Very good. There you are.”

He pulled air in too quickly again, and all at once he was slammed back into his own body.

The weight of it was crushing, the numbness in his legs, the tingling in his arms, the ringing in his ears. He relaxed his grip on Peach’s hands and hunched over, shutting his eyes tightly. Dizzy. He was dizzy. The world was spinning around them, as though trying with all of its might to fling them apart, and the very thought of losing her made him groan with terror and grip onto her even harder.

She shushed him, a lone source of calm in the chaos that ensnared him. “Can you speak?” she asked. He could feel her now, her nose pressed into the top of his head, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, kiss her deeply and endlessly until his feet felt solid on the ground again. 

But he couldn’t find the energy. He couldn’t lift his head, and he couldn’t pull her any closer, and he wasn’t even on his feet to begin with. He was sitting on his knees in some dark room not far from the meeting hall. She had pulled him in here and urged him into this position; the memory was hazy, but he remembered all the same.

What happened? he wanted to say. He knew what happened. Thinking about it just made the world spin faster. Maybe if he could hear it again from a voice that brought him nothing but comfort, it would stop, it would all go away. Maybe he would realize definitively just how stupid it was, how inconsequential the trigger for this episode, and that would snap him back to normal.

No sound came out when he opened his mouth. His eyes stung, and he grit his teeth against the unshed tears.

She let go of his hands and drew him in closer, and Mario couldn’t help but sigh in both shame and relief. Her sweet perfume washed over his senses and wrapped him in another layer of familiarity. 

“That’s okay,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair. “It’s okay. We’re safe. Everything is alright.”

If everything was alright, then the great hero of the Mushroom Kingdom wouldn’t be crumpled in a quivering heap on the floor, unable to speak or even raise his chin. He couldn’t express his frustration properly, in words. All he could do was huff.

Peach shushed him again. Another kiss. “Here, lie down. You’ll feel better if you lie down.”

Mario wanted to protest. They had been in the middle of— they needed to get back to— there were people waiting on them, on her, because she had— because he was too weak to even open his eyes.

He nodded instead.

Letting her hands guide his motions, he collapsed heavily to the floor, curling into himself on instinct. Carpet. Not as plush as the carpets in the private chambers, a bit scratchy against his cheek. Peach’s fingers cupped the side of his head, lightly pressing upward; he somehow found the strength to lift his head and keep it there, just long enough for her to make whatever adjustments she needed.

A sound like a whimper escaped his throat as his cheek met silk. He was so disoriented he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He gulped and made a few more pathetic sounds, because he was almost certain he would vomit otherwise.

Fingers in his hair brought him back. He focused all of his attention on them: the gentle scrape of nails against his scalp, his curls bouncing back into place with each pass, the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He was clammy, he realized for the first time. He was cold. 

His guardian angel’s voice cut through his shivering. She was giving more instructions, and he held to them like a lifeline — “…without us. Just take good notes and I’ll review them later. If you could bring us some water first? Thank you.”

These weren’t instructions for him. There was a world beyond these few square feet around them. She was willfully shunning that world for his sake. He willed himself to open his eyes, get himself together, go on about his day so she could go about hers because he wasn’t supposed to be dragging her down with him. He wasn’t supposed to be like this in the first place.

All he could see was pink. His head was in her lap. That knowledge sent a wave of solace crashing over him, intense enough that his breath caught in his throat and he began trembling uncontrollably once more. Or maybe he hadn't stopped trembling in the first place.

Pathetic. He was supposed to make her feel safe. He was truly pathetic.

“Stay with me,” Peach said, her urgency replaced with quiet tenderness. “Take your time. Rest. But stay with me.”

Gulping again, Mario nodded. This wasn’t right. His burdens shouldn’t be hers to bear. He shouldn’t be a burden, much less her burden. But for now, he was, and she had ordered him to stay. So he closed his eyes and focused on her fingers in his hair, steadying his breath and coming back little by little, back into full awareness of the world outside of him and her and all of his uselessness.

“You’re alright, Mario,” she soothed, and just for now, just until he was strong enough to cram his weaknesses back down so that they'd never bother anyone again, he let himself believe her.

[hashtagbiitch]

like this for a one-liner from velvette 💋📱

[superbellsubways]

based on this post

edit: alt layout undercut which might be easier to read?

[mrjackderippe]

(Hello friends, I have been a bit busier than usual as of late with irl stuff. But I plan on getting back to answering asks as soon as things become less hectic over here. In the meantime, please enjoy the occasional doodles~)

[hochmvt]

THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT, MY LOVES

sorry i didn't get back to so many of y'all for the last days (and weeks even). work had me in a chokehold, working the longest shifts and not really having the time on my hands to tackle drafts, stories and especially DMs the way i wanted to. however, this handsome son of a gun has three weeks off and will spend 2½ weeks on vacation abroad. the new time zone, for the time being, will be pdt and y'all can't believe how excited and in dire need of some time off i am. i am currently working on all open threads and will queue them, so y'all don't miss me too much! the vacation queue starting on wednesday (will be tagged accordingly) – i'll check in from time to time, but mainly focus on getting some rest and all. much love your way, thank you for your patience and let's just all hope the next job, starting in january, will be much more chill and less debilitating. 

much love to y'all, i'll catch up to you eventually, i promise!

[ask-doctor-wombat]

Stop kissing children

It was ONE TIME. FOR A DYING GIRL.