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things-about-cars-in-posts · 8 months

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twas a '98 polo green de ville. its so pretty bro

See? Shows what I know!

I went and checked, by the way, because that seemed exactly like the right car in the right period of time, and indeed, all De Villes made from 1996 were equipped with the Northstar V8.

I made roughly this face.

To make a long story short, someone at Cadillac saw the legendarily good LS V8 they freely had available as part of General Motors and thought "You know what we should do? Spend an absolute fortune to develop a V8 of our own that fulfills exactly the same purpose". And apparently the people sensible enough to run the place were all on vacation, because lo and behold, we got the Northstar V8, a Cadillac-only V8 that was supposed to tell the world that Cadillac is still bangin', babey! We're not just throwing GM parts together here, we're putting in effort and making something serious, something unique, something Cadillac! Something whose together-keeping threads just shear off after a while. Woo, Cadillac. You were so brave for this one.

But since I don't wanna be all negative, let me tell you about what "98 polo green" made me think about!

In 1996, the Volkswagen Polo was coming out with new colors! And they were like "Let's show the motor show audiences our new colors in a fun, captivating way!" and so they made a Polo out of pieces of all the new colors!

And then they got a FLOOD of dealers shouting WE WANT THIS NOW and they were like "Oh all these new colors are coming in-" and they were like NO we want THIS and they were like "Ah Sheiße" (fuck) and so they begrudgingly took a set of four cars of four different colors off the production line, swapped their body panels around to create the color combinations you see below, and kept repeating the process until they got one entire thousand of Polo "Harlekin"s.

Which vaporized off the lot before they could say "That ought to be enough" in German (and in German it's just 5 syllables so that's saying something), so they upped the production to around 3800 total, which were sold over two years without letting the customers pick the color combination they got.

They also did this to the Golf for the US market (now spelling it 'Harlequin'), but they only made 264 and some of them had to be un-harlequin'd by reshuffling the different colored parts back into four uniformly colored cars (and sometimes just straight up repainted) to be moved off the lot. And they say it's Germans who lack sense of humor.

But I know what you are wondering - or at least, what you will react to with "fuck that's actually a very good question" upon reading: what the fuck do these cars' documents say under "color"? The answer is actually pretty logical (these are German cars after all): the car was one single color when it rolled off the production line, and while they bolted parts of different colors onto it, that color remains in the non-replaceable elements like roof, sills, rear pillar, and all the inside parts like door seams, engine bay, underside and what have you - so that is the color the car legally is.

So yeah man there's your fun facts about the Cadillac De Ville.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

#btw the northstar was cool when it worked and polo green is a GREAT color #cadillac de ville #northstar v8 #volkswagen polo harlekin #volkswagen golf harlequin

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extravalgant · 19 days

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'for the dead are changless' aka the wizdyv fluff i always promised but never followed up on. UNTIL NOW summary: He could still feel the ghostly imprints of your fingers on his skin, kissed by the warmth of your body. You were checking his pulse. You were checking his pulse. words: 2144 warnings: no warnings. free range wizdyv fluff babey. except maybe some ooc-ness. please mind that 🛐

read on a03

"What does shadow magic feel like?"

You can tell Dyvim is curious—just by the way his voice tilts in a certain way. He's not afraid, no; just cautious of what is to come. You avoid his gaze anyways, swallowing down the hard lump of guilt that suddenly manifests in your throat.

You've been avoiding his gaze for days by this point. You think yourself clever, but you know Dyvim; you know that this is his way of getting you to open up. You two had not spoken about what had happened at the Queen's hive, of what you two had lost and subsequently regained, but the relief of his return is palpable in the air.

He would be a fool not to have noticed the way your fingers curl underneath his jaw, light as the morning's dew, and press gently against the pulse along his neck. You do this when you think he's sleeping, but he's a light sleeper, now—awake even at the slightest snap of a branch, at the mere suggestion that something may be moving in the dark.

The first time you had done it had been after his revival—when you had taken the first shift, when he slowly fell into a dreamless sleep. He didn't know what to expect, but the sensation of your hand had not been one of them.

Your fingers were warm against the jugular of his throat, and something in his chest squeezed at the thought; of the implications your actions held. His pulse was warm and hearty, thrumming strongly against the pads of your fingertips, and after a few beats of silence, he felt your hand slide away.

He could still feel the ghostly imprints of your fingers on his skin, kissed by the warmth of your body. You were checking his pulse. You were checking his pulse.

The affection he had been careful to tuck underneath his armor, between the smooth, metal ridges, suddenly can't help but bloom without warning.

"It's different from other magic,” you say, bringing Dyvim back to this moment in time. He hadn't even realized the two of you had fallen silent until you had spoken. Your voice was soft, as it always was with him, as you shuffle your spell cards. They make a soft, satisfying hiss as they slide against one another, glittering low in the light. It reflects off of your face, washing your plaintive expression in a wash of bright, warm gold.

“In what way?” he asks, his eyes round with genuine interest. Magic was never his strong suit, and it seemed so… finicky at times. It was hard to rely on something that had the possibility of failing you in the most crucial of moments.

“It's colder than light magic,” you said, tucking the cards back into your deck, before slotting it onto your side. You slot your fingers together, resting your elbows on your thighs, before leaning forward.

Yes, your hands had felt cold, hadn't they? He could feel it the other night, when you had done your usual rounds. Watched him breathe long and slow, like he savored every breath.

“It is?” He blinks. “I had no idea magic was warm.”

“Not… necessarily,” you reply, and allow the tendrils of magic to dance across your skin. To the denizens of this world, magic was a wonder to behold; a weapon wielded against darkness. The responsibility you have is not lost on you. “Light magic doesn't feel like anything, its just… shadow magic that feels colder in comparison. It feels like… cracking an egg over your head.”

Dyvim smiles, a laugh passing through his lips without a second thought. He didn't expect a metaphor like that, but it made it easier to imagine.

“Does it?” He says, with a hint of a smile tracing the edges of his words. His eyes crinkle with amusement. “I don't believe you.”

“We could always get an egg and find out,” you suggest with a tease, until the soft warmth of your conversations silts through the silence, and you go back to being you. Not ‘The Wizard’—but you.

His spellbinder—the one with the sad eyes and the kind smile. Everything about you is so kind, he thinks.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he muses gently, and the smiles he receives in reply is enough to make his heart squeeze in his chest.

He watches the firelight dance across your face. It dips wonderfully into all your crevices—the softness of your cheeks, curving underneath your eyes, against the slope of your face.

But in your eyes, something lingers. Something that’s been there long before Dyvim had shown up. He wasn’t one to pry—you two had not known each other for long, and he felt it would be rude to ask about things that weren’t his business. He understood it, in a way. He’d rather not linger on things that happened in the past, not when their future finally seemed so bright.

And not when the reason for that brightness was sitting right next to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Crack.

The flame splits the kindle once more. It sways and dances, making the shadows dance along the ground in a graceful dance. Dyvim blinks, surprised at the sudden apology. “Sorry? What for?”

“I got you killed,” you reply, your voice raspy with raw emotion. Like the words were sandpaper, and you were dragging them out of your throat.

Ah, his… death. It’s with a shameful flush that he realizes, that the wizard must have been worried about him.

“I knew full well what I was getting into, spellbinder.” Dyvim soothes. “Rather—it’s me who should be apologizing to you. I hadn’t meant to worry you like that.”

You suck in a soft breath, and let it exhale slow and gently from your mouth. His words release the knot of tension that had been lingering in your chest, unraveling it into fine, thin strands.

“You’re alive,” you whisper. You resist the urge to reach out, to grab his hand and intertwine it with yours. To feel the thrum of his pulse fluttering underneath your palm. “And that’s all that matters.”

The smile comes to him easily—something he felt only you were capable of bringing out of him, in these times of war.

The guilt lessens, but not by a whole lot. It was true that you had felt guilty for a long time after his death, unable to even listen to your superiors without a scathing retort ready at the handle. They deserved every bit of it, and thensome.

Dyvim didn’t. Dyvim didn’t deserve anything that happened to him.

“I-I’m sorry, too, for—” The words spill out of your mouth, clumsy and awkward. “—For learning shadow magic.”

The words hang in the air, amidst the quiet ambience of their camp for the evening. It’s not the sort of thing Dyvim was expecting, leading him to blink slowly, silently, at the wizard.

He… doesn’t know how to respond to that, frankly. It’s true that the wizard’s spells look different, feel different, but he had never thought of it anything beyond that. The fact that they were apologizing meant that they felt they did something wrong.

But, there it is—the shine of guilt, lingering in your eyes. Glossing over the whites of your eyes, making them shimmer like glass. Dyvim feels his shoulders sag, just slightly, as his voice softens—only for you. “Oh, spellbinder…”

And you? You can’t take that. With only two words, he’s knocked down your walls completely. Your eyes burn, nose stinging, as you reach up to blink away the tears.

You can feel it—his pulse, lingering with yours, as his hand circles your wrist; he gently tugs it downwards, and you let him, allowing him to see the fruits of your labor. Your lower lashline, dotted with tears, and quiet little sobs that break his heart.

“I didn’t mean,” you gasp out, the words stilted and disjointed. “to disappoint you. To disappoint—everyone.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Dyvim whispers back, running a thumb gently over the seam of your wrist, where your heartbeat flutters underneath his touch.

“It’s forbidden,” you say, your voice gravely. The words grate in your throat, uncovering the shame and guilt you had been carrying all this time, on your own. “Shadow magic is forbidden, and it’s caused… so much grief and sorrow. To you, to—to everyone else—”

“Spellbinder,” Dyvim says, softly, and your body shudders in response. How could he say your name with such softness? You were not soft at all. You were hard at the edges, tightly coiled and ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Ready to defend the spiral.

He doesn’t say anything else, but allows you to cry if need be. Had this been several weeks ago, a part of you would have been mortified at the idea of crying so openly in front of another person. But weeks ago Dyvim wasn’t alive—he was still encased in amber by that point, lost to the world, and you had been forced to pick up the scattered pieces and run.

“I’m not angry at you, spellbinder,” Dyvim says, the lilt of his tone warm and gentle, voice dipping down into a soothing hush. “And I do not blame you for learning shadow magic.”

When he reaches out, this time, it’s to take your hands gently into his own. The contrast in temperatures surprises you, the warmth of his palms seeping into your skin. The shadow had taken that from you, as well—the warmth of your own body.

"Morganthe has done a lot to hurt my people," He says, and his voice trembles with an anger, a despair, that you recognize. The unfairness of it all, the dawning realization that you lost; that for the moment, evil had triumphed over good. Dyvim’s voice softens as he brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. "But you… you have done nothing wrong."

I have, you think, almost helplessly. Dyvim looks at you like you’ve personally hung the stars—and for him, you might.

"You have undone some of the hurt that has been inflicted upon us for centuries, and, for the first time, I feel… hopeful."

Dyvim looks into your eyes as he says this, eyes pooling with an adoration you hadn't seen in a long, long time. A small, bitter part of you says you don't deserve it. You swallow it down, letting it drop into your stomach like a stone.

"You make me feel hopeful, spellbinder."

Truly, you don’t know what to make of that. You’re no saint, you know this—but he’s so earnest, it’s hard to disagree with him. You open your mouth to reply, but when it’s clear that nothing is going to come out, you close it. You can feel his hands squeezing yours gently, as if saying, take your time.

So you cry.

Your face warms as you cry, letting the thick globs of tears track down your face, sniffling with each sob that leaves your lips. You don’t remember the last time you’ve cried, but it had to have been a while ago, because you can’t stop. And when one of your hands pulls away from his, to reach up to wipe away the tears with the back of your hand, his arm reaches out to circle your shoulders, and tuck you against his armor.

“You’re safe here, spellbinder,” he whispers. “Let it all out.”

He tells you to mind all the cold, metal parts of his armor, but you don’t care. You tuck your face against his shoulder, and let the sobs shudder through your body. Your tears twinkle like stars as they quietly plop onto his armor, as his other hand dips up and down your back in a gentle, soothing motion.

Frankly, it’s one of the best hugs you have ever received. It’s probably one of the only hugs you have ever received, since you had stepped foot in the spiral.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this," your voice crackles, choking on the emotion lodged in your throat.. "I know how much everyone looks up to me. I don't want to seem weak…"

"Allowing yourself to be comforted is not weak, spellbinder." Dyvim chastises lightly, for your own good. "I feel honored you were even willing to divulge this side of vulnerability to me."

"You're special," you reply, not even attempting to hide your favoritism towards him.

For some reason, this surprises him. “Am I?” He asks. “More special than anyone else?”

You nod. “More special than anyone else.”

You feel him tuck his cheek against the top of your head, and feel the soft inhale and exhale of his breath.

“In all of the spiral?” He asks, his voice quieter.

“In all of the spiral.”

#val.fics #wizard101 #w101 #dyvim whitehart w101 #wizdyv #hello wizdyv'ers. i come with this #i really need to use my fic tag more because i could not figure out for the life of me how i formatted the other one #which by the way. i realized i didnt post the other wizbat one on a03 #hm... mayhaps that will change #anyways. i work a nine hour shift today #please god (raven) give me the strength #also this is unbeta'd so please mind the mistakes lolol

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dirtcola · 4 months

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I have a story to tell. Look at me. I need to talk about public transit.

Behold... the woeful tale of the most cursed subway station in the system (content warning bodegaland under the cut)...

I present to you - 191st Street on the 1 Train.

This station is notable for being the deepest underground. It is 173 feet (53 m) below street level. This is because it is under a massive, steep hill in the neighborhood of Ft George. Most of New York City is pretty flat, however, in places like Northern Manhattan and parts of The Bronx, the terrain is quite hilly. This specific hill is notable for being big enough to almost completely cut off the neighborhood of Inwood (northern tip of Manhattan) from the rest of the island.

The station itself has a simple enough layout, a northbound and southbound platform connected by a covered pedestrian footbridge and mezzanine. The atmosphere is what is different - you're so far underground that the air is still and stale, and in between the arrival and departure of trains, it is deathly quiet.

So you're likely thinking, "how does one exit this strange station at the bottom of such a big hill?" There are two ways to enter and leave the station: a set of four large freight-style elevators, or a long pedestrian tunnel which lets out at the bottom of the hill. There are no stairs.

Let's talk about the elevators first, should you decide to brave them. Luckily for you, they've recently been completely replaced! This is a wonderful thing, because the old ones were absolutely slow and rickety as hell and would often stall out and return to the bottom of the station when overloaded (being overloaded, mind you, by exhausted and nervous commuters eager to make it out of there).

Here is a video shot by a transit enthusiast riding the old elevators shortly before replacement. Note how it took a full 43 seconds to make the ascent, and that is with only one person riding in it! He also made a follow-up video riding the new elevators, which ascend at a crisp 34 seconds.

Now you might be thinking, "those elevators seem like a total death trap. What about the tunnel?" Well...

The tunnel is made of concrete, dimly lit, and 900 feet (270 meters) long. For a years, the walls were covered in graffiti art and murals commissioned by the NYC Department of Transportation. To be fair, it looked pretty cool!

However, I'm sure you noticed the past tense in the preceding paragraph. In January 2023, DOT completely painted over the tunnel in an unflattering shade of landlord white. It looked like this:

Understandably the community was quite upset by this. DOT eventually began commissioning artists to beautify the tunnel in September 2023:

Certainly an improvement! The tunnel still lets out at the bottom of the hill though, so I hope that you don't have business at the top of the hill. It's also a long walk from one end to the other, and the thick concrete walls make the sounds inside very isolated. Not ideal for any semblance of safety.

In conclusion, this post may make 191st Street interesting, but I still suggest avoiding it. The atmosphere in this station is oppressive and eerie, the elevators and tunnel out are of dubious safety, and there isn't much to see or do here if you don't live in the immediate neighborhood.

New york fuckin city babey!!!!!!!!!

#woe! american public transit be upon ye!#our transit system is over a century old and falling apart at the seams #and it's only going to get worse with climate change 😎#transit talk

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somanyfuckedupiftruebooks · 1 year

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Mag 54

Okay now I'm interested in how Entity-aligned businesses make money. The Institute is an academic organisation that relies on donor money. Jared Hopworth's butcher is a front for his body disposal hussle funded by the mafia. The Fairchilds and the Lukas's apparently have money (despite the fact that Peter Lukas isn't earning shit). The Circus of the Other has been out of business for decades, so where is the Stranger getting its money from?

Hey, at least the circus tiger is enjoying a quiet retirement.

Daniel Rawlings 🤝 hiding their inhumanity behind a haze of cigarette smoke 🤝 Sarah Baldwin

It's cool to me that the Stranger is manifesting its uncanniness through eyes, something that belongs to its polar opposite. But unlike Beholding, the Stranger's eyes are scary because they are artificial and unseeing rather than all-seeing. And, of course, skin works its way in there as well.

It's also extremely great that this statement-giver made himself basically immune to the Stranger by simply deciding to not be weirded out by it. Mind over matter babey! The bad vibes can't hurt you if you ignore them!

Yeah, is Daniel selling skin/taxidermy to other Strangers who need it for whatever fucked up nonsense they are pullling? Or to avatars of other Entities who need it for... unknown reasons? Or to regular people who have no idea how bad things are about to go for them?

Or maybe these sudden large 'purchases' are actually the entire life savings of people who get Anglerfished being stolen and money laundered through the store. I like that option the best because it means that Alexander was just terrible at his job.

Okay, it's not stealing people's skin, but the low-grade fear of constantly freaking people out must be reasonably satisfying.

'Cool old skin I guess? Why are you telling me this?'

😬 He said the thing. 🚪👀

#mag 54 #a mag a day #reeah reacts to tma #the stranger #the trophy room

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blueheartedmayor · 6 months

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Behold! The TWO corgis on this blog!

If you don't know me, I do enjoy trying to create multiple designs of the same character - I have completed a challenge to design as many Darks as I could back in 2018/2019. I had intended these to be the same character thrown through timelines to reunite with Damien when Noah is wiped from existence, buuut I thought that might be a little confusing. (However... there is a year or so between them, and corgi markings do change... 🤔)

Anyway! This post is going to be the overall "info point" for the two puppers with the same name. Neither of them are going to be able to participate in something like C.rufts due to their designs being so far from competitive standards, but it doesn't make either of them less special. They're both clever, and either Damien or Noah would be happy to show off their tricks!

Better info for each under the read-more!

Damien's Barnum (whom I will refer to as "Mayor" for simplicity) is a bit of a mystery. He appeared in the city one day, completely healthy and herding soldiers in the local barracks. He was brought to the shelter to try and find his home. However, not only was he not chipped, he also refused to acknowledge anyone who wanted to adopt him... Except Damien. The moment he approached Damien, everyone knew that no one else would be good enough for the corgi.

He's a very grounded, level-headed dog who has decided to take on the role of Damien's personal bodyguard. The fact that he has loosened up in any form to have a little fun is purely through Damien's hard work with him. Mayor doesn't have any fear and will stand his ground against anyone he doesn't trust. He might bark, or he might actively try to trip someone up. But if he sits beside you, he likes you. And if he presents you with his prized toy carrot? He trusts you. Feel special.

Out of the two dogs on the blog, he is VERY fluffy. He needs a good brushing several times a week. The bushy appearance of his cheek fluff is reminiscent of a moustached soldier with a similar name who is not present in this version of events. He also has larger brown markings on his face. Finally, his collar is red.

In comparison, Noah's Barnum (Calling him "Captain") has a much more straightforward story. Knowing that he might never return home, and he had no family of his own, Noah decided to adopt a puppy and train it up to work alongside him. It was a purely selfish act that worked perfectly in his favour.

Captain was originally a rarity - a black and white puppy with no brown markings (both Barnums are P.embrokes, not C.ardigans). He was also a little fluffier than his siblings. Noah was smitten instantly and took him back to HQ as soon the pup was old enough - smuggling Captain under his hoodie. Most photos of Captain have him with no brown markings at all, as they only began to appear as he hit the 12 month milestone.

(Why 'Barnum'? Noah's hometown.)

Captain is a very clever, but easygoing dog. He's a very talented errand dog, and an expert in finding Noah no matter where his human might be, but he can be distracted if he's in company of people he likes (such as the handsome-and-or-beautiful Engineer!). He's still getting used to the fact that he isn't a tiny puppy anymore and tries to climb into Noah's hoodie on days off. Fortunately, Noah obtained another hoodie that has a dog pouch. He has also accidentally winded Noah when the captain is lying down.

Also, he LOVES being carried. He's just a babey!

The brown markings on his face only emphasise his youth and cuteness. Two large spots cover his eyes, while two smaller circles almost looks like blush marks. His black coat is a solid colour with no hint of red undertones. His front legs are pure white, but his back legs are black to the bend, and brown down to the toes, which are white. Finally, his collar is wine-purple.

#(arting helps give me inspiration so I'm hoping that it'll give me the drive to write tomorrow)#(slow steps; folks. It's all I can hope for rn)#loyal to the end (barnum)#(also can I point out that I've gotten better at drawing dogs? I was looking at my very first Barnum art #and you can see the difference. Go me!)

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its-paperd · 1 year

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BABY JUMPSCARE

BEHOLD!! HOOD'S AND SPAZZ'S NON CANONICAL CHILD, VERIDIAN!! OR MINT!! (they both nickname her Verdi)

yes!! her soul is a firelike shape!! kinda tipping from my DT brother's soul headcanon but shhh

Mint is a small curious child who's really pouty most of the time but she means well <:)

she was found in a box while the two were taking a walk in an AU and Spazz WAILED that she wanted to give her mercy on the poor littol babey

bonus:

Mint: *points to Flower* doggy!!

Flower: wh- N O—

(@socksandbuttons look a baby!! :D)

#i did make a kiddo version of her when she's a little grown up but we aren't going there yet #look at herr :) she babey <3 #Spazz insisted that she should have a name that mixes both of them in a way and Hoods suggested Viridian since it's a green and yknow-#and Spazz then suggested Mint since it's a cooler green too #after that they agreed on both :)#shout out to my buddy socks :D #flower TRIED to convince mint to not call him anything (because stars forbid when the kid starts touchin him)#but she now either calls him doggy or uncle #and the couple just LAUGHED at flower's misery #this could both exists where flower is either present or not you choose #'paperd what do you mean by that' oh nothing lol #✨scribbled paper'd #undertale au #utmv #hoodie papyrus #spazz sazzing #flower flowey #mint veridian

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baydrake22 · 3 months

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>:)

BEHOLD THE BEAUTIFUL ART OF MY FRIEND HERE

THE CUTEST BABY DRAGON TO BABEY

#loz skyward sword #lanayru

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berrymoos · 1 year

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Yess PLEASE do agrere hc’s for Marc 🥹 - 🌱

holy hell i almost lost this post AAAAAA 🫠 3 hip-hips for tumblr imploding on itself!!! (i am This Close to losing it)

ミ﹒﹒🧊🌨️🤍💤🍼

🌙 — regressor marc headcanons!

need i go into detail about why he regresses? i feel like you can click on literally any moon knight episode & use whatever he goes through AT ANY POINT during those ~45 minutes as a reason /hj

his regression is mostly fueled by trauma. even when he's regressed just to relax after a taxing day, it's very easy for it to turn negative in the blink of an eye if he's left alone with his thoughts for too long :(

age range is in between 1 - 4 years old, usually sticking right in the middle at 2, BUT if somebody asks, he's gonna say he's 4, no matter what. even if he's Babey, he will find a way to communicate that he's 4, he is! ... the mooncule can see right through him & his lies

speaking of — jake, steven, & layla (aka, three-fourths of "the mooncule") are his cgs, though i guess you can say the former two are his "main" considering they're always with him..? REGARDLESS, the 3 of them share the title & you BEST believe they dote on him like crazy!! he'll make a teensy noise & layla's CRASHING through the door like “what's wrong, sweetheart?!” while steven & jake r in his ears like “what do you need, love?” / “i'll beat ‘em up, kid, don't even worry about it!” ... the noise in question was unintentional

layla is “laywa”. jake is “jay” or “jay-jay”. steven is “steeben”, “stebie”, or “bubby” / “buba”. he's got a lot more for steven but it's just various shortenings of his name 💀

usually, when he actually is 3 / 4, it's either because he's been feeling particularly playful & carefree, OR his environment makes him feel too uncomfortable to allow himself to properly drop. in the case of the former, he moves around so much more; running away from layla in a game of tag, seeking for her during hide-n-seek, causing chaos with a regressed steven & jake ... he's a lot more talkative too! not as much as steven (regressed or not), but tons more than baby marc

in the case of his environment, marc retreats to the backseat until things are all okay again. usually he'll regress fully afterward if he's comfortable enough, but there r some times when he just stays at that 3 - 4 age range!

BABY moo, on the other hand? ohhh he's such a little sleepy koala (*´˘`*)♡ all he wants to do is snuggle with his stuffies & fall asleep to his show playing in the background. he's not a loud regressor to begin with, but in this smallspace he's reduced to small hums, whines, coos, n just other quieter noises in general. the sleepy-cuddles come from the main reason why he most likely dropped that far in the first place: bad triggers :(( being triggered by something is already draining to begin with, so add regression to the mix & woop, an upset baby on board ... but bad feelings such as that don't last forever <3

naptime, his beloved <3 baby moo or toddler marc, doesn't matter; if jake suggests naptime in any way he can pick up on, there's no tantrum, no stubborn “i don’ wanna...”, no hiding to avoid it, none of it. he might even suggest it himself if he gets sleepy in the middle of the day. only requirement is a bedtime story

oh yeah! the mooncule calls him moomoo (or moo, for short)! for a while, layla thought it was because marc took his stuffed cow everywhere he went after he got her, but low and behold, jake came up with it on the fly one day & steven picked it up shortly after; he's taken to calling marc by that nickname in all scenarios except when there's important information he needs to tell him now ... or when he's big, but yknow

(sometimes he slips up & calls him moo when he isnt small - results r a blushy boy fighting off a sudden impending fuzziness 🫣)

because of that, baby moo genuinely thinks that's his name 😭 layla put this to the test one day when she asked him to spell his name & he put moo. as adorable as that may be, it's also really funny

he has 3 stuffies to his name: mocha, the brown-and-white longhorn cow, miffy, the white bunny, & an eeyore plush. mocha was the product of a build-a-bear visit & miffy is a childhood gift from a cousin. eeyore came in a pack of other winnie the pooh stuffies steven had purchased — he has winnie, layla has piglet, & jake has tigger. miffy in particular gets carried around everywhere when he's regressed, so it's a key way to tell if he's dropped / starting to drop

prefers chewing on specifically steven's sweaters than using a paci?? like veeeery specifically the ones he own. they have to be his or else it doesn't feel the same – partially because steven has a knack for finding the most interesting designs & the softest ones, & partially bc steven just oozes comfort to begin with. if the body has one on, chances are marc has just abandoned his paci to chew on the sleeve. if it's not on while he's in sweater-nom mode ,,, well, he's raiding the closet to find one to nibble on

steven has caught him in the act on multiple occasions — probably more times than he can count on his fingers HFUISDHSIF ,,, he doesn't mind that much, but would prefer him just .. wearing or simply cuddling it instead of chewing on it like a teether (・_・ヾ quite unsanitary

sweaters are not the only thing unsafe from marc's nibbly tendencies!! other things include, but are not limited to (from most normal to weirdest): his thumbs, the sleeve of his own shirts, miffy's right ear, mocha's left horn, steven's knitted scarves, jake's cab hat, jake's crayons, steven's sock that matched a specific outfit, & layla's hair. the hair happened ONCE when he was Very Babey & both of them hated it

if anybody asks if he wants to watch "His Show", they mean Sailor Moon. doesn't matter what side of the spectrum his age range is at that moment; that's his show, don't take it away from him, you will feel his wrath (whining until it's turned back on)

he pretends to dislike being carried around, but when layla demonstrated how easy it was for her to prop him on her hip & go without breaking a sweat, it was impossible for her to put him down again. he doesn't ask for uppies much but layla can tell (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

marc actually pretends to dislike a lot of little things out of shame about his regression, tbh :( lots of reassurance & patience is needed for him bc he's v sensitive about this part of him as a whole (he's v sensitive when he's small in general; grab some tissues bc man, little buddy is kinda perpetually glossy-eyed /hj)

that being said, he's still a lot more honest about his feelings than big him is. while marc hides what's wrong most of the time to deal with it on his own, moo is nudging jake to co-consciousness bc he spilled juice on his shirt & he's rlly sad about it :(

constantly apologizes for the littlest things, bc he automatically thinks he's done something wrong & he's the one causing great misfortune ... when all he did was drop a plate ( ;´ - `;) he'll apologize for things that have nothing to do with him at all – exhibit a: the time steven stubbed his toe on the corner of his desk & moo automatically said “ ’m sorry!” from headspace, even tho he hadn't taken control of any body part in any way

mumbles so so much, ohhh my goodness *´ㅅ`)ﾞ♥︎ oftentimes even the mumbles r muffled behind his sleeves bc his hands r hovering over his mouth. jake calls him mumblebee 🫶

his favorite game is pattycake (that handclapping game), especially when he's on his younger end. steven n layla love incorporating little tummy tickles at the “put it in the pan!” part (steven wiggles his fingers in the mirror hehe) – they do it every time, & it gets marc giggling like crazy without fail

marc's body doesn't always listen to him as a result of stress & PTSD in a general sense, so it definitely doesn't when he's in his smallspace — to combat that, he wears diapers for extra protection. they give him another source of warmth & security too, but he's so shy abt wearing them for the longest time. jake & steven cheered the day marc decided, on his own, that he was gonna need a dip ,,, 🥹🫶

can't pronounce his r's, l's, or v's right, but he catches himself in the midst of saying them wrong & corrects himself. for example: “hi, ’teeb– ’teevie” or “can't do it wi– right! >:[”. layla is an interesting example bc she has 2 l's in her name, but he only consciously corrects the first. the only time he doesn't correct himself at all is when he's super-duper little ... & that's primarily because he doesn't use words (-ω-；)

coffee is gross now, get it out of his face, ew, yucky, no! very stark contrast to big marc, who's canned two cups of black coffee with a straight face on multiple occasions. but no matter how much sugar & creamer & even coffee flavoring he puts in it, moo just Can Not get it down w/o wrinkling his nose n goin “bleugh”

now ... no one would say they think moo has a massive sweet tooth, but it deff grows in size significantly as if trying to compensate for the lack of coffee (/j). layla's walked in on him w his hand halfway in the cookie jar & he tried to pretend it was steven's doing by putting on a british accent (that wasnt rlly all that bad but definitely Not Steven). she "believed" him, but later in the day when steven is fronting they'll exchange a silent yet knowing glance

self-indulgent pkmn au hc: marc's lunatone doesn't need any kind of outward tell to know when marc is regressing – yknow how psychic-types are! it proves to be a rlly good companion when marc is unable to tell the others - mainly layla, given jake & steven r his headmates - he's feeling small for any reason (sick, in public, etc...). it also proves to be a rlly bad companion when marc is trying to ward off his headspace / keep it a secret, but lunatone is hovering over him w a sippy & a stuffie floating beside it hsisidiekd

#🧸．berry n friends <3 #🌱 anon friend <3 #moon knight agere #fandom agere #sfw agere #agere asks #agere hcs #i was gonna add bonus winter hcs but w how the post acted when i did im just. not LOL #i ALSO was gonna add a custom BLUE to some of the things but again. tumblr fckin sucks #i still use the app 25/8 tho don't even 😭

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