#marsh brain rots

[marshmcore]

Listen, I’m a decent adult, and this is one of the sexiest looks Murderface has ever gotten in the show. The color scheme is like eyebleach. Two different shades of maroon, the chestnut hair, the grey that doesn’t over power the rest of the fit, and then his hazel/green eyes?! This shit is poetry, guys. Ghad he looks so GOOD in maroon, and thats my favourite color too!! Also, hot take: he looks the best in a suit (even though he wears those stupid dress shorts).

sc: doodilydingdongdethklok :3

[marshmcore]

AYE, its so funny because you then remember hes a urinairy combat specialist, sax player, a kiwi, the one with the fuck ass cut, eats hallucinogens in his spare time, constantly suffers from organ failure from his supplements, gets into arguments with his dad, loves his mom, loves animals, probably listens to the same music DADS WOULD (ie fusion jazz, classic rock, 60-70s psych rock, prog rock, etc) should i post my sniper playlist here? O_O

AND THEN AFTER ALL THAT

The voice lines proceed to his SPIT LINES

He’s so gd silly it’s not even a question, even after all that hot asmr. But thats why we all love him right? A goood mix of the two

HIS VOICE ACTOR HAD NO RIGHT TO GET THAT CLOSE TO THE MIC

[kieyoukiedraws]

This sad girl just needs to cry for a week and to take a tea bath.

[rainboq]

thoughts on pricemarsh and amberfield? or pricemarshamberfield?

Considering that I wrote a 282k word Pricemarsh fanfic, I love them a whole hell of a lot.

Amberfield is an absolutely fantastic ship and it's honestly kind of criminal that I haven't written something for just them instead of it being part of an amberpricefield piece is criminal. I really need to fix that.

AmberPriceMarshfield is peak. A fantastic polyamorous mess that my fic Tapestry *almost* was, but I cut it for the sake of my own sanity. Definitely something I have plans to write (Maybe with some Chase in there for extra spiciness).

[fennecfiree]

So what if Kyle was like sad cuz he thinks he's ugly and then Stan was like nah and gave him a little kiss and thinks he's beautiful.. so yeah

[marshmcore]

Need a Dick Knubbler in my brain lol, bc all he wants is to make music, work on projects that he finds interesting, help expand other’s ideas… he’s like the hypeman! You want your own Christmas special? Plant Piss? He’ll (try) see it through with you!

I think each member of Dethklok represents a different kind of shortcoming creative people need to overcome in order to reach their full potential— whether they call themselves artists or writers or musicians or whatever. Whether they do it professionally or as a hobby. Here's the way I see it:

Murderface represents self-deprecating and self destructive tendencies (i. e. not feeling good enough, wanting to quit, throwing tantrums, general low self-esteem)

Pickles is the drive for instant gratification whether it's via actual substance use or general hedonism ("I'd rather take a nap/smoke a joint and chill for a bit right now, I can totally get to this project later", etc)

Toki represents overly idealistic expectations and maybe also a different type of hedonism, one more focused on literal fun and games ("My art will be so good I'll be famous and everyone will love me, yay! ...Whaaat? I'm supposed to actually work on it? Nah, I'd rather play some videogames today")

Skwisgaar is perfectionism and a general ego, basically the other side of the coin he shares with Murderface ("I am the best and a literal fucking god at this"/Having meltdowns over the slightest mistake you make/"If I'm not as good as I expect myself to be then who even am I?")

Nathan is the tendency to get easily distracted while placing high expectations on one's own work. Plus the persistent guilt of past or potential failure.

BONUS: Magnus represents the resentment felt towards other, more skilled or more "successful" artists, whatever that might mean for each individual person; as well as resentment towards perceived external "threats" or obstacles to one's own success

Yes my point is that every artist has a tiny version of Dethklok living inside their head and whenever they're falling behind on their work it's because one of these guys is winning

[zugmode]

judging u

(kenny is dead or something idk)

[riley-nobody]

Currently thinking about how Stan and Kyle would become more and more distant as the years go by. Stans alcoholism gets worse while Kyle chooses to focuse on his studies and distance himself from Stan but you KNOW if it was an sos situation he would be there for Stan. He would try really hard to distance himself more but when needed he just couldn't help it but help. Thinking about how even after years as adults they both trust eachother the most and go to each other if needed even if they havent talked in years. They both still have a place in each others hearth

[c00pswhore]

i feel like stan and kenny wouldnt have to actively tell anyone abt their relationship, they just let people find out on their own.

[malu897]

Oh my god, i had the weirdest dream

Like all the kids make a pirate play and Stan and Clyde are playing the main characters that are also a couple and keep calling eachother "My love" while running always from everybody else but by the end of the play the parents keep teasin them about liking EVERYBODY except eachother "ha haha haha ha Clyde likes Annie" "Stan if you liked you little friend Kyle you could had always just told me son" and all the kids are super confused an the dream ends

[heybobbygirl]

I see Stan and Kyle interact and my brain explodes

[marshmcore]

KLOKTOBER DAY 1: Fav Character❤️‍🔥

LMAOAO went thru the wringer yesterday, so im here A DAY LATE lol. Self-insert with Pickles… drew this to try not to black out on a Tuesday night lol.

I had another picture i was trying to work on, but decided to post this one from my sketchbook instead… I’ll probably post that one when it’s done <3

[bubblesgarden]

｡˚○ — witchy!reader & rafe cameron

it starts with a morning like any other. 

too quiet. 

too heavy. 

rafe had woken up before dawn, already wired with that kind of restlessness that made his skin feel too tight for his body. the walls of tanneyhill felt like they were closing in on him, the silence too loud. he didn’t even bother with breakfast; just laced up his sneakers, grabbed a hoodie, and hit the road. 

running helped… sometimes. not with the anger, exactly. that stayed. but it dulled the noise in his head. pushed it down beneath the thud of his shoes on asphalt and the burn of cold air in his lungs. 

he was two miles out when his phone started to buzz. 

top. [6:34AM] yo top. [6:35AM]  kelce wants to hit the gym.  top. [6:35AM] bring that preworkout u use. top [6:37AM]  ???

rafe rolled his eyes as he thumbed through the texts. typical. 

he didn’t reply. 

instead, he veered off the road, ducking into a narrow trail that he used to take when he was younger. it cut through the trees, curled around the marsh, and spat you out at the dock. and he needed the dock— needed the stillness of it. 

or maybe he just needed air that didn’t reek of chlorine, bourbon, and lies. 

you’re barefoot the first time rafe sees you. 

not the typical flip flops off at the beach barefoot, but barefoot at the edge of the trees, crouched besides a tree stump, lighting something in a tiny dish that smells like rosemary and smoke. rafe almost didn’t see you, completely lost in his own world— earbuds in, hoodie damp with sweat. but when the wind shifts, that's when he can smell the smoke. 

you don’t startle when he notices you, instead, you just glance up, offering him a tiny smile like you’d already knew he’d be there. 

and rafe slows down, but only for a second. and still, he looked back.

rafe’s knew who you were, of course. everyone on the island knew you— kooks laugh about you with their friends, the pogues joke about you like you’re their in house forest spirit. you’re that weird girl who lives on the cut, raised by your grandmother who had the same connection with the earth as you did. you did tarot readings at bonfires, trading for beer and sea shells. 

you were strange.

and rafe cameron doesn’t do strange, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

but somehow? he kept running into you— at the dock, braiding wildflowers into kiara’s hair. at the small cafe on the corner, scribbling in a worn leather notebook and ignoring your food. he saw you in a bookstore, curled up in the floor in the spiritual section like you belonged there more than anywhere else. 

“you know most of that stuff’s just made up, right?” he said, nodding toward the open book in your lap. his voice was lazy, a little condescending, trying to sound more sure than he felt. and when you tilted your head at him as you looked up, he couldn’t help the lump that formed in his throat. 

“so are stories. doesn’t make them any less powerful.” 

he scoffed, walking away from you. but that night, he dreamt of the ocean swallowing him whole. 

you were like a splinter in his brain. he tells topper you’re a freak, saying your whole ‘moon child swamp witch’ thing is a performance— he says it with his chest, but he still goes quiet when your name comes up. still finds excuses to be near places you might be. he starts to pay attention, noticing things like little bundles of herbs tied to fences, strange symbols etched into drift wood. 

and you? you don’t chase him. you don’t flirt with him, or force anything. but you see him. you look at him like you know something he doesn’t. like you’ve looked straight through that carefully polished exterior he holds so proudly and seen whatever’s underneath— bruised, rotting, and aching for something soft. 

and that should piss him off.

but it doesn’t. it fascinates him.

you fascinate him.

[these-posts-arent-real]

Oh StarClan... your dash has turned into warrior cats again.

#sorry <3 #this one has parts that are based off of that #one post rhats like "if there were cat-people #do you think calico tboys would try to dye over their patches"

2 notes

🔁 🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow reblogged

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Me & Night (my mate)!!!

🏞 trouttail-prefers-bass Follow

:O Kip's mate has finally been revealed!!! And his name is Night? Cooool.

🍲 ex-thundrclan-kipper Follow

Yeah haha. Technically his full name is Night Hunter, Bringer of Darkness, but it feels so weirdly formal calling him that, so I usually stick to just Night.

#life #kittypet #collar tw #cw collars #id in alt text

8,504 notes

🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow

I find it really funny when I see cats on here vaguepost about big blogs. Like cmon mouse-brain everyone here knows who you're talking about. Just say their name.

#this is about that one mommy blogger shitting on kipper the kittypet #btw #in case some of you couldnt tell #would be funny if it wasnt so stupid

12 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Hahaaaaa.... my mother found out ive been slowly dyeing my ginger patches black...

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

Why would you do that??? Being a tortie is so cool, I wish I had ginger patches! They're so pretty, why do you want to get rid of them???

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

Uhm. Gender dysphoria??

Like. I know cis male tortoiseshells exist but they're so rare that most cats take one look at me and go "oh, tortie, must be a girl" and that hurts.

🪺 robbbinpaw Follow

OH STARCLAN im so sorry Rot i wasnt even thinking about you being trans, I probably sounded really insensitive... I do understand what you're saying now.

Didn't even ask, how did your mom take it? Does she know why?

🥬 rxttencatmint Follow

You're fine <3 I get it. And no, she uh.. has no clue why I did it, she thinks I'm in my "emo phase" or something.

🐍 xviper-the-fagx

Uhh unrelated but what do you use to dye your fur?? Asking for... science...

#"science" meaning i am also a tortie tboy #well technically i'm calico but ykwim

46 notes

🔁 🦋 lalala-bluegaze Follow reblogged

🦢 gentlesong-momof17 Follow

I can't be the only one here who thinks it's unfair to allow kittypets on this site. Posting pictures of themselves and their mates inside of the twolegplace, influencing the young kits on this site to abandon their Clans... surely everyone else sees the problem with this as well.

This is Clanblr, not "Kittypetblr". This was specifically made as a space for Clan cats to connect, not for kittypets to push their lifestyle on us.

They're going to convince our kits to abandon their home and their belief in StarClan just for a more secure life.

#EXACTLY #I only recently found out ex-tc Kipper was a kittypet #it was so upsetting to me because i've always loved his wood-scratch art #to find out he's a clan-abandoner was so saddening

2,447 notes

🔁 🐍xviper-the-fagx reblogged

🌻 l1llyst3m Follow

The recent drama surrounding Kipper the Kittypet is sad and I hate that he's being bashed just for existing, but it's also incredibly stupid. I believe the cat who wrote the original post said something like, "it's CLANblr, not KITTYPETblr," and then something about belief in StarClan and I just... do you even realize how many Clanblr mods are non-Clan and/or don't believe in StarClan?

To name a few, @s-t-a-r-burning is former WindClan now rogue & openly an atheist, @theshadowhaseyes has been a kittypet his whole life, and @ssuunnrraayy-p has made zir entire blog about how ze travels from one Clan to another & doesnt consider zimself a Clan cat. Those are all mods. "It's clanblr no-" shut up. Just shut up.

245 notes

🧷 name-lists-by-theme

Theme: Water

as always, these work as either part of your name, but they are intended as the first part!

-Abyss

-Bay

-Bog

-Cove

-Creek

-Current

-Dew

-Fog

-Lagoon

-Lake

-Marsh

-Mist

-Pond

-Pool

-Puddle

-Rain

-Shallow

-Sleet

-Spray

-Splash

-Storm

-Stream

-Torrent

Keep reading

383 notes

🐱 berrrrry-o Follow

I think a lot of cats put way too much emphasis on the parts of the warrior code that dont matter, and forget the parts that do, like "feed elders and kits first" and "never neglect a kit in pain or danger"... I feel like those are significantly more important than "a warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet," but maybe that's just me.

#berry yaps #I'm irritated by the kittypet drama going on on this site

16 notes

🔁 🛤 carnation-stem-02 Follow reblogged

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

I feel like we don't talk enough about how SkyClan got chased out of their own territory during a time of crisis rather than all of the Clans trying to make room for everyone...

I mean, seriously. I know it's taught to all SkyClan apprentices, but I've talked to some of my friends from other Clans and they just. Didn't know that. They were never taught that the other Clans allowed SkyClan to be chased out due to territory loss.

🔲 sstep-xoxo-deactivated

:/ im pretty sure the whole thing about skclan being kicked out of their territory is just a conspiracy theory

🔲 sag3-chas3s-squirr3ls-deactivated

Imagine trying to tell a cat that they don't know their own Clan's history 💀

#ohh i finally found it again #that 1 fucker trying to say that skyclan's history is a "conspiracy theory"

20,056 notes

🌱 dirtdigger-23 Follow

:/ I do not like being stuck on the wrong site.

[purplepeptobismol]

SHSHS I KNOW THEYRE BACKGROUND CHARACTERS but- do you have HCS for Robin and Isa ???? I loved the little snippets of Robin and baby her in chapter 13 ??? TOO CUTE AA 💕💕

I’ve been waiting for someone to say this because I absolutely DO have fun little facts about these two 😫🙏‼️

—

Robin Marsh-Broflovski

Very laid back and chill and has a small circle of friends

When she was a little kid, the only way Kyle got her to eat her vegetables was when he will eat them in front of her and say something like “you can’t eat it because it’s grown up food.” She will then beg to eat them because she was “grown enough” to eat vegetables. Grew up to really love cooked broccoli

studious queen 🗣️

very artistically talented, she’s always doing insane sketches, but doesn’t pursue art— she only does it as a form of expression more than anything

into psychology and human anatomy

has really thick curly hair and Kyle helped maintain it and keep it healthy (Grandma Sheila also helped!)

Stan loved styling her hair when getting ready for school when she was a kid (and little Robin liked it too. She always looked forward to this little morning routine)

wore the ushanka hat a bit around elementary, but stopped wearing after a year or so. When she left for out of state college, she brought it with her and wears it on occasion

got her first tattoo on her 18th birthday. She designed it, and Stan accompanied her when she got it.

When she’s in college, though she doesn’t admit it out loud, she tends to get really home sick and misses her family a whole lot. Kyle calls/texts her as much as he can (literally misses her so much and bawled his eyes out when he helped her move to her dorm). But, she does face time her family around the weekends 🥲

Isabella Marsh-Broflovski

plays the electric guitar!! Stan taught her everything she knows <3

got into skateboarding at the age of 5

The best way to describe her personality is canon South Park boys 💀 (or; early season Stan and Kyle). Girl is unhinged

has an undercut because her hair felt to heavy (and yes, she attempted to do it herself. Kyle and Stan had to take her to a hair salon to get it fixed)

sends brain rot content to Emi and Coop in their group chat LMAOO (knows chronically online stuff before it gets to them)

gets along with Grandpa Randy 😭 and it sends Stan into cardiac arrest every time he drags her to one of his adventures

likes to get into deep talks and debates with Kyle. When they disagree on something, they get louder and louder to prove their point. It never gets too serious tho cuz most of the time, Isa is just trying to rile her dad up by hitting him with some shit like “well if you don’t agree, then you hate women 🥱. You don’t hate women, right dad? 🫢 unless….” and Kyle would just go “WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM?!? WHAT?!?! HELLO?!!”

Has the same laugh Stan has, they even snort the same way

Loves hanging out with Uncle Kenny because she thinks he’s cool, and considers Cooper as her cousin. “That’s my cuzz fr💯”

will not hesitate to throw hands at anyone. Do NOT get on her bad side !!!

—

They’re absolutely my favorites 🫶 I sooooo wanted to include them more in the story. Ahhhhhhhh, I love these two dumbasses and their silly little daughters <3

[daisypreaker]

inmate 13453

okay don't get excited, i just felt like writing a bit of a drabble to feel out the atmosphere of a potential start to this au (clicking the tag will give up the other stuff i've posted for it btw)

btw check out the playlist and the pinterest board made by @theageofsilver and @allicentsallure bc they're fab

cw: kidnapping

Soft seventeen.

Bambi eyes, bambi legs.

There’s a certain edge to the way people describe the age she’s at. Not quite eighteen, not quite legal, tangible as cherry juice on greedy fingers. She isn’t sixteen, sweet and tender. It’s a soft first step into adulthood, skirting the border, the in between, the unknowable horrors that lie ahead.

She fucking hates being seventeen.

It’s a shit number first of all. Odd numbers make her want to spew. They feel like nails on a chalkboard, polyester static on leg hair. She can’t even dance, so whatever ABBA are singing about doesn’t apply.

Amara sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as the breeze blows west. She swears she can get a sense of the world when she does.

Her stepfather mocks her for it. That blue-eyed, blonde maniac with the ugly Buick Electra he treats like a brand-name Italian from the southern coasts of Europe. He used to treat her mother the same. Until he began to tell Amara you look just like her when she was young. He leaves his porn tabs open on his computer, as if he wants her to know. ‘Teen’, ‘Latina’, ‘Stepfather’, ‘Rough’, ‘Face-fucking’, ‘Breeding.’

She doesn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in her.

She really wants to tell her mother, but there is a chance her mother will look right through her instead. She’s been doing that a lot more nowadays. They can’t afford her meds anymore. She just sits on the porch and watches and waits. For what, is anyone's guess.

>> can you pick me up?

>> its dark

>> pls

>> sorry ik its inconvienant

'Step-Daddy' always replies quickly when it’s her. He has a heart next to her name on his phone. She never agreed to that.

>> it’s spelled inconvenient

“Suck my dick,” Amara tells the screen and switches her phone off before he can message again.

She can walk.

The route back runs dangerously close to the edge of the forest. All kinds rot away in there, but she doesn’t like to think of them by name. They’ll become real if she does. She wishes her mother had found a man who lived in the wetlands, and not here at the cursed border between life and the realm beyond. Marshes are easier to understand. Forests are cursed.

Still, life is horribly simple here. Her high school is placid and filled with the dull-eyed children of dull-eyed adults. The gas station where she works didn’t bother to interview her. She walked in and the guy behind the counter stared at her breasts until he remembered she had a face. Her breasts aced the interview for her.

Can I work here? Just until I graduate.

Sure, grab a nametag.

Four months later, and she doesn’t mind it anymore. Her brain shuts off. Her customers are a ragtag mixture of suspicious, ferret-eyed locals and the occasionally buoyant hiker from out of state. If she doesn’t look like she belongs, she’s pretty, and that usually gives people like her a pass. At least until the sleazy comments become ethnically charged. But even then, Amara has a way of making her eyes go ‘dopey’ and just smiling like she’s too slow to understand. Displaying discomfort is what eggs them on (kind of a nasty realisation she opened her eyes to one day).

An engine growls some way down the road.

Old Chevy pickup, faded gold.

She recognises it from the parking lot at the station near the end of her shift.

A guy stepped out, young, early twenties, with a shock of hair that looked white until she realised it was just really, really blonde. She remembers thinking it was odd. The range of blondes in town runs from deep and dirty to the artificial bleach rattled out of holographic boxes of dye. No one has hair like his. She’d have noticed.

His eyebrows were a little darker, and his lashes were darker still. He had a funny way of walking, and he looked at her like she had the head of a fish and the body of a human being. Amara did her best dopey eyes. She asked him if he’d had a good day, pointed out the offers they had on pork rinds. He didn’t say a word. His skin had smears of black grease, glistening with sweat and bronzed by the sun.

Deep blue eyes.

Horribly deep.

Not the kind you’d want to swim in. She likes a softer blue, blue like chlorine, reminiscent of the safety of swimming pools. His were anything but.

She picks up her speed, and for some reason, puts her phone to her ear as if mid-conversation. Nothing about him said he was dangerous at the time. At least not from the way he’d barely said a word or looked down at her body. He was just there, and then he was gone.

And now here he is again.

The Chevy hits the horn. He is creeping closer. Amara turns and waves at him to go on. She doesn’t want a ride. Why isn’t he rolling down the window to offer one though?

It slows to a crawl. Her throat closes up. She has a feeling speeding up will give him what he wants. He’s obviously trying to be a prick. But if she goes back to talk to him, that would be exponentially worse. She switches her phone back on and sees her stepfather’s message telling her to get back home herself after she didn’t reply to tell him her location.

She quickly shoots him a message, and prays he’ll respond.

He doesn’t.

Fuck it.

She walks faster. The Chevy matches the increase. Sweat blooms on the back of her neck.

Every woman has that oh fuck moment. That I’m going to be on the evening news moment. The please god if he catches me let him kill me before he gets to raping me moment.

None of that goes through her head. She keeps thinking of her mother’s cooking. Her mother hasn’t cooked in a year and a half, not since her mind began to slip. But Amara can taste the spices on her tongue, the way the rice was perfectly simmered, the cinnamon in the back of her throat, the smell that clung to the walls, the heat of it.

I wanna come home, Momma.

Her mother’s face gathers into shape in her head, built with sand particles and saltwater. When the Chevy roars, she starts running. Her mother vanishes.

The lights of the truck blink across the tarmac. It’s a signal. But it isn’t for her.

She looks over her shoulder, and she can’t see him.

Run me over. Leave me like carrion on the road. Let the maggots eat me. Don’t cut me up first.

He slows when she starts to tire out. Picks up when she tries again. No other car has graced this road since she first turned onto it. A sign points her to the right, ushering her deeper into the backwoods. The town is to the left.

He figures out where she’s going when she suddenly makes a dash for the bend in the road.

There’s no time to dodge the pickup when it goes for her this time. The wheels skid as he yanks it at an angle and blocks her way. The door flies open and misses her by an inch. His arm grabs for her. She dodges, animal fear and rust on her tongue. He still doesn’t say a word.

A heavy fist connects with the small of her back and she drops like a stone.

The pain is electric. Air turns her lungs into taut balloons, but she can’t make a sound. She twists around and the bruise forming over her spine grates. Adrenaline quickly numbs it as she lashes out with her arms and legs. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting. Her teeth hit home. A mouthful of tattooed flesh, car oil and sweat. Still no sound from him.

She never sees the fist coming, just like last time.

A blow to the head and lights out, nancy.