#puns are my bread and butter

[missellaneousworks]

Excerpt from "Sundae Jack" - Fluff n' Smut SDJ Fic

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY community. Therefore, the content of this fic is NOT APPROPRIATE for anyone under 18+ and should not be engaging with it.

Very self-indulgent Ella (OC) x Sunny Day Jack fic. The full version can be found on AO3 HERE.

Below is just a taste before things get spicy~

Something is Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is a +18 ONLY series. MINORS DNI.

~

Oh yeah.  It had been that kind of a week for Ella.

The tub of ice cream landed on the counter with an unceremonious clunk, followed by the rest of the ice cream fixings.  Strawberries, bananas, chocolate fudge syrup, and whipped cream.  After a whole week of work, paying bills, having her hot water shut off for two days due to a water main breaking…. She needed to treat herself.  So after a horrible week, Ella went to the store with a little extra cash she had left over and got herself the full sundae spread!

Jack’s head poked out of the bedroom as he was finishing up folding laundry.  “Welcome back, Sunshine!  Whatcha got there?”

“My salvation,” Ella remarked with satisfaction. “I decided to take some of your advice about treating myself after a rough week.”

In the not-too-far past, Ella would usually turn to a nice bottle of wine and a bubble bath to relax and unwind. But while walking down the frozen dessert section in the grocery store earlier, she found a brand of ice cream she hadn’t seen in years. Normally, she would sadly pass by before she could change her mind, but today of all days she figured why not?  Besides, Jack would probably appreciate a little sweet treat, too!

“Anything I can do to help?” Jack’s ever-cheerful voice inquired helpfully. 

“Actually, yeah! Can you slice up the strawberries and a banana?”

After retrieving the cutting board and knife, Jack began to cut the fruit into thin, even pieces, humming a melody that Ella didn’t quite recognize, but was sure she heard it before.  “You know, most people get cherries with their sundaes.  I like the fact that you bought strawberries, though!”

“Eh heh, yeah… cherries remind me too much like cough syrup.  I know they’re already cherry flavored, but still… I like strawberries more.”

“Blueberries are also great!”

“No kidding, Mr. Blue-Haired-Clown-Sir.”  Ella teased back.

“Pfft, okay, okay, that one was obvious.”

“A little,” Ella giggled.  As she removed the ice cream tub’s lid and began to scoop the into the bowl.  “You know, I’m also a fan of peaches and nectarines.”                                                        

“Those sound tasty!  Maybe we can buy some next time.  Can never have to much fruit for your diet.”

“Not unless they go bad because I don’t eat them in time.”

“That's what you have me, here for, Sunshine,” Jack said triumphantly as he finished cutting the fruit, quickly washing the knife and setting it into the sink drainer.   

“…to eat the fruits I don’t like?” Ella innocently blinked up a Jack, leaning into his side slightly.

Jack chuckled and shook his head.  “No, silly.  To make sure you stay happy and healthy!  So we can keep having ice cream dates together~”

“Hmmm!  A fine point, Mr. Sunny Day.”

“You know what they say, an apple a day keeps the doctor away!  So it’s important to keep you in pear-fect health!”

The silence was incredibly loud as Ella slowly, deliberately turned towards Jack.  “…honey.  May I remind I am armed?  With an ice cream scooper?!”

Jack didn’t even attempt to hold back his laughter.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t help it.  I just think you’re one in a melon.”

“I know where you sleep.”

“I should hope so,” now the clown was turning the tables again on Ella, his voice lowering an octave as he came up behind Ella and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “It’s right next to you, after all.”

A pleasurable shiver ran up Ella’s spine as she felt Jack’s breath across the back of her neck and shoulder.  Subconsciously leaning back onto Jack’s body, Ella almost forgot about the ice cream sundae, at least until she accidently knocked over the open jar of chocolate syrup and got all over the counter. 

“Ah, shit!”

“Whoops!”  Jack blinked at the mess, a slightly disappointed grimace across his face.  However, it didn’t stop him from getting a moist paper towel and dabbing the mess.  “I got it, Sunshine, don’t worry!”

“Guess your flirt was too hot for this hot fudge to handle.”

That earned her another chuckle from her lover.  “Want to cool down with this sundae?”

“I thought you’d never ask~”

Within moments, Ella and Jack were nestled on her couch with a blanket, and a sizable bowel of the sundae, with two spoons so they could share. 

“Um, is this okay?  That we’re eating out of the same bowl?  I thought about getting one for each of us, but I kind of thought it would be cute to share…”

“I don’t mind, this is perfect, Ella.” Jack reassured with that ever-comforting smile of his.

“I thought it was pear-fect.”

“Ooooh!  My own pun thrown back in my face.”

“You’re very handsome face,” Ella shimmied closer to Jack’s side and wasn’t blind to the slight blush on Jack’s face.  It was nice to know even he could get bashful at times.  Adorable.  “Anyways, let’s dig in—”

The abrupt pause in his Sunshine’s delight caused Jack to raise his eyebrow in confusion.  “What’s wrong?”

“…I feel like… we’re missing something.”  Ella thoughtfully tapped the spoon against her lower lip before her head snapped up.  “The whipped cream!  Oh my god, hang on.”

Her sudden departure to retrieve the forgotten condiment was amusing to Jack.  Ella’s strive to get something just right might have been considered a setback to others, but not Sunny Day Jack.  He took a lot of time and dedication to improve Ella’s quality of life, and even more important, her happiness. 

Which was one thing they had in common.  His sunshine worked so hard to make people around her happy, it just showed how kind, creative, and amazing she truly was.  Sadly, there were times when Ella overdid it—with the best of intentions, but it was a small secret Jack kept to himself; he felt that most other people didn’t deserve the time of day with Ella.  She worked so hard at work, maintaining her home, and her writing, and finding new inspiration to keep her going.  As the matter of fact was that Ella persisted despite all of the trouble and heartache she’d been through in the past.  And that fact alone made her… special. 

It felt good being in her light.  Incredibly, warm, light, and loving light.  It was only right that her attention shouldn’t be wasted on others who would otherwise dim that precious light.

He’d make sure it would stay that way.  Forever, if he had to. 

“Got it!” Ella triumphantly scampered back to the living room with the whipped cream.  She plopped right next to Jack again, shaking the can before placing a sizable dollop on top of the sundae.  “Now, it’s perfect!”

Jack couldn’t help the mischievous smile.  “You mean pear—”

“Don’t,” Ella pointed the can directly at Jack’s face in an attempt to look intimidating.  Though the scrunch of her noise proved to be cuter than anything.  “I am armed and dangerous.  Don’t you dare, Jack.” 

Jack bit his lip in an attempt to stifle the chuckle building in his chest, but he couldn’t resist teasing her… just a little.  He jokingly lifted both of his hands up in mock defeat.  “Oh-ho!  What do you intend to do now that I’m at your mercy, Sunshine?”

The glimmer in Ella’s eye was unmistakable.  Her finger pressed on the tip of the can’s spout, intending to spray just a little on his nose, to make good on her threat, and to be a little coy.

However.

After a moment, nothing came out, and Ella added a little more pressure.

Jack stiffened as a flurry of whipped cream erupted all over his face, covering his left eye, cheek, part of his lip, but most of it did land on his red nose.  Jack squeezed his eyes shut when he was met with a barrage of sweetness, not fully registering what exactly happened at first.   After one mortifying moment, Jack’s right eye blinked open.  Ella’s face blanched from utter embarrassment.

“Pffffft!” Jack’s shoulders began to shake.  Then a giggle slipped, followed by a snort. 

Ella could only blink back as the silliness of her nerves and the situation itself sunk in.  Jack hunched over in an attempt to turn and hide his face, but Ella could clearly see his eyes squeezed shut, and the corners of his mouth failing to suppress a smile. 

“Oh my God,” Ella released the beginning of her own breathless laugh before she finally quipped, “Sorry honey,” she genitively wiped the cream from his eye.   “Guess I was the one who blew their load prematurely, huh?”

Jack guffawed and doubled over with a shocked laugh.  “ELLA!”

It broke the damn that held back Ella’s jovial laughter as she hunched over while cupping Jack’s face.  “Hey, first time for everything, am I right?”

“You’re t-too much for me, sunspot!” Jack managed to eke out through his laughter. 

Ella giggled back, “Too bad! You’re stuck with me, innuendoes and all.”

“I’d hardly call that a bad thing, you know.”  Jack’s laughter began to subside into breathless chuckles.  Most of the cream had slid down his face and landed on his chest and lap. 

“O-oh,” Ella tried to remain focus, but Jack was so close to her.  “Let me help, honey.”  Quickly, she grabbed a napkin that was sitting on the coffee table blotted parts of his face to remove the sweet confectionary cream from his face.  Jack was perfectly still and let her work, seemingly content to let Ella touch him, even if it was just for the sake of cleanliness.  She could feel his warm breath against her skin.  He wasn’t even doing anything other than just sitting there, messed up by her own hand.  Yet something about it made it feel… oddly intimate.  Especially the way Ella was studying the sharp features of his face.

“I think that’s all of it—oh, wait,” Ella cupped the side of Jack’s cheek and guided it to the side.  “You’ve got something on your face…”

“Ella--?” Jack was cut off at the feel of Ella’s soft lips against his cheek.

The dusting of pink across her face as she pulled back was impossible to ignore, as was a small, coy smile.  “Never mind, it was just me.”

Jack’s smile widened, positively smitten.  “Have I told you recently that I love it when you get spontaneous?” 

The compliment hit its mark perfectly as Ella’s blush deepened before an idea began to form in her mind.

Spontaneous, huh…?

~

Read more at the link on top. Thank you for reading~!

#Sunny Day Jack #Something Is Wong With Sunny Day Jack #SDJ #SDJ OC #SUnny Day Jack Fanfic #MissElla's Works #please don't bully me for the title too much #puns are my bread and butter

[crouching-mouse]

Manga by ???, translation/scanlation by me. Thanks so much to @talesofsymphonia4koma for the scan!

I had to tweak the joke to work in English but I think it turned out pretty well =)

#My translations #tales of symphonia #tales of symphonia 4koma #tales of symphonia manga #Zelos Wilder #Colette Brunel #Lloyd Irving #Genis Sage #stupid puns are the bread and butter of 4koma

[teawithaphd]

*wheezing* WAIT I DIDN'T REALISE YOUR OC'S NAMES WERE PUNS that's so galaxy brain I love it

Lmao thank you I do my best 💖💖

#thanks for the ask! #puns are indeed my bread and butter #and im a frequent visitor of the bread bank #*ba dum tss* #ill be here all week folks #ask

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

“Maybe there are clues in the words you have.” Robin cuts in, reaching for the notepad and sliding it in front of her.

Steve huffs, “I need to know the whole thing; there’s definitely words missing.”

“Should you eat more bread?” Robin asks, already sliding the previously abandoned plate of bread towards him.

“You shouldn’t overwhelm yourself.” Mama says, pushing the plate back. “We don’t know if there’s a trigger to the spell, or if you and the caster’s paths will just cross one day, maybe they don’t even know they cast it.”

Steve blinks at her. “So I have a true love and they might not even want me?”

“No!” Robin belts out immediately.

“No, of course not,” Mama says, continuing on. “The one known thing about any spell like this is that they only work on those who are receptive to it.”

“So some weirdo can’t put you under their spell?”

“Yes, exactly Robin; Steve, whatever this is, whoever this was, they love you with all that they are. And you them.”

“I don’t even know who it is! How can I?”

Mama doesn’t have an answer besides saying “Your soul must know them already.”; Their conversation was over soon after that.

Steve spends the next couple days silent and brooding. He can’t stop thinking about how he’s what, marked to love someone he doesn’t even know? How’s that fair?

It could be any random person on the street that thought he was hot, some weird old guy or a lovesick middle schooler..He only just turned 25 the day before the bread incident, but he’s saddled with this huge unknown that isn’t going to get better any time soon?

Okay, apparently not just some weirdo according to Mama, but still. Un-fucking fair all the same.

He’s also pissed that he can’t give anyone all the baked goods he’s made within that time. Each and every one of them ending up with a sour aftertaste. 

“Damn witch bullshit…” he grumbles to himself, only half serious, as he scrapes another batch of sour sugar cookies into the trash.

He’s salty, okay? Pun intended. If he hadn’t ever learned the truth about the powers over food his grandmother (and now him too, apparently) has, he could’ve just excused the batch after batch being off on bad butter, or old flour.. Something other than his mood being what’s ruining his cookies.

That’s what he’d done every other time something he’s made tasted off, now he knows it was him the whole time.

Mama comes in then, he doesn’t have to look up to know the look she’s giving him.

Steve leaves the bowl of leftover dough on the counter, mumbles out a “I gotta go.”, then tromps out the back door and into the woods behind his grandparents’ home. 

He supposes it’s good that they live just outside the city, really, having the trees to escape under like this has helped him before, and he’s hoping will help him now.

Meandering through the underbrush, he strolls along until he reaches the small clearing he’d claimed for himself when he was what, 8? 9? Doesn’t matter. It’s his spot to get away from anything he needs to.

He sits down against the big oak at the edge of the clearing and tips his head back toward the sun filtering down on him through a gap in the canopy above him. He breathes in the fresh air, focuses on the warmth hitting his face, and just exists there for a while, slipping in and out of a soft snooze.

Suddenly, he’s shocked out of his dozing by the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

If it were coming from behind him, he’d expect it’d be Robin coming to find him here, but it’s not. It’s coming from ahead of him across the clearing.

Steve stands and presses back into the trunk of the tree, wondering if there’s bears in these woods when a person stumbles through the tree line.

The man is thin, about Steve’s age if he were to guess, and covered in dirt, his light wash overalls and his boots are caked in it. His hair is long, pulled half-back away from his face and full of bracken from the forest.

He also seems to be in a daze, staring with dark eyes at Steve with an unfathomable expression. 

It shifts soon after, though, warming into a watery smile. “I’ve come home to you.” he says, clear as day, then collapses onto the grass.

“Oh, shit!” Steve rushes forward, kneeling down beside the man and quickly checking him over for injuries. 

Steve presses his fingers to the man's pulse confirm it's still there (it is) and there don’t seem to be any bruises or breaks in his limbs, so he goes to his head, feeling quickly under the tangles in his hair for any blood, any knots.

Nothing. There’s nothing apparently outwardly wrong with him.

“Hey, hey, wake up! You gotta stay with me, man.” he says, shaking him lightly. 

The other man’s head lolls to the side and his eyes open a crack, his lips quirking up into a smile. “M’love…”

“What is your name?” Steve insists in a slow, clear voice.

Instead of answering, the man raises his hand slowly to cup Steve’s cheek. “...v’wait’d so long..” he slurs, then goes limp again, his hand dropping to his chest.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve gets his feet under him and gathers the man up into his arms in a bridal carry. His steps falter when he feels how light the man is in his arms, how much more thin he is than how he’d looked.

Steve adjusts his hold on him, making sure not to let his head hang backward over his forearm, and rushes back toward the house.

“Mama!” he shouts as soon as he clears the treeline into the yard.

She’s at the back sliding door as soon as he is. “Steve, honey, what—”

He pushes past her, hurrying to the spare room on the first floor with her on his heels. “I found him wandering the woods, I couldn’t just–I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Mama.”

She gestures him forward to the bed, “Put him there, on top the covers,”

He does, setting him down as if he’s made of glass.

As soon as the man is out of his arms, Mama takes his place. “Nothing seems broken, but he’s so light, he needs food, he needs water, should I call 911? I don’t even know his na—” he rambles on, not even realizing he’d started to pace until his grandma stops him in his tracks.

“Steve, listen to me.” she says, pulling at his wrists gently, removing his hands from his hair. “He will be fine. Now, go get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and come straight back here.”

He nods dazedly, stumbling backward out the doorway and spinning to the kitchen.

Steve slides to a stop on the tile floor in front of the kitchen sink at the same time Robin gets home from her classes that day.

“I have a date!”

Wait, he needs the bowl first. He scrambles to the opposite counter for the large mixing bowl Mama uses for her damn bread and fishes it out with a clatter of everything that that had been in front of it on the shelf tumbling out to the floor.

“Steve?”

Should he put soap in it?

“Steve!”

No, Mama just said ‘warm water’, not ‘warm soapy water’. He nods to himself and turns on the tap, reaching under the sink next for a washcloth.

“Steven Otis Harrington.”

“Oh, hey Robin, you’re home.” The bowl’s almost full.

“Steve.” She spins him to face her, holding tightly to his shoulders.

He tries to twist back around futilely, “The bowl–”

“Steve. What. Is. Happening.”

He blinks at her a couple times. “Robin!” He pulls her to him in a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re not gonna believe–”

“Steve, the bowl?”

“Shit,” It’s nearly full when he shuts off the tap, so he dumps a bit out and picks it up with both hands, “C’mon, he’s this way.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“Dunno, I found him in the woods.”

“Aw, Steve, you can’t just take in any ol’ stray dog you happen to find out in the wood—-” Robin cuts herself off as they get to the bedroom door. “Ohhkay…so..not a dog.”

“He looks to be dehydrated, but I don’t think he has any injuries.” Mama says in lieu of a greeting when they return. Steve sits down on the opposite edge of the bed that she is, and carefully passes over the bowl of water without looking at her.

The stranger immediately takes in his attention. His soft features, dark brows…Steve starts to pull the bits of brush out of the man’s hair, untangling twigs, leaves, and he can already see one of those pesky prickle things twisted into the hair next to his ear.

Mama sets the bowl on the sidetable, and gets to work immediately, wiping the dirt and grime from the man’s face and arms. “Robin dear, can you grab one of those sports drinks Pa loves so much outta the fridge? And a bottle of water.”

“Of course!” she says, darting back into the kitchen.

“We’ll need to get some food in him too,”

“We should make him scones.” Steve states apropos of nothing. “With chocolate chunks.”

“Maybe after he’s a bit better, sweetie.” Mama scoffs, wringing out the washcloth. “He needs healthy fats first, butter, oatmeal, avocado, things like that.”

“I can do that!” Steve says, jumping up excitedly. His former task forgotten, he rushes out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, nearly bowling Robin over in the process.

He gets to work on simple eggs and toast for their houseguest, avoiding Mama’s lucky bread in favor of his own store-bought stuff for now, he can make him his own later. 

As he scrambles the eggs, he focuses everything in him on the stranger, on getting him better, making him healthy again. He’s not exactly quite sure how to do what Mama does, but the sour cookie dough says he’ll do it without thinking about it…kinda.

Whatever. 

All he knows is that he’s telling the fuck outta these eggs to make his love better. Make him whole again.. Make him—

Wait..

Did he just refer to the random man laid up in the other room as his love?

Is…

The fugue state he’d been in since first laying eyes on the man crackles away just long enough for him to think.

What did he say before he collapsed? "I've come home to you."?

That..sounds right....why is that so famili—

Steve's eyes leave the pan of eggs in front of him and snap immediately to the scrap of paper he'd scrambled for a few nights ago.

Is he…?

And of course, as if the words weren't already plastered permanently onto his grey matter, there they are, plain as day.

tagging those that were interested on the last part!!! @mugloversonly @kittydeadbones @maybequizas @queenie-ofthe-void @newtstabber @angeldreamsoffanfic @eyesofshinigami @sunflower-trashbaby @perseus-notjackson @kaspurrcat @quinns-shadowy-arts

also, idk if this counts for it, but one of february's songs for @steddiesongfics is work song! which is what this fic is based on! 😊😊

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #robin buckley #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve has good grandparents #steveddie #eddeve #witch au #noelle writes

[lsdoiphin]

Foods of Vestur

@broncoburro and @chocodile provoked me into doing some illustrated worldbuilding for Forever Gold ( @forevergoldgame ), an endeavor I was happy to undertake. Unbeknownst to me, it would take the better part of a week to draw.

In the process, I conjured about an essay's worth of fantasy food worldbuilding, but I'm going to try and keep things digestible (pardon my pun). Lore under the cut:

The Middle Kingdom

The Middle Kingdom has ample land, and its soil, landscapes, and temperate climate are amenable to growing a variety of crops and raising large quantities of livestock. The Midland palate prefers fresh ingredients with minimal seasoning; if a dish requires a strong taste, a cook is more likely to reach for a sharp cheese than they are to open their spice drawer. Detractors of Middle Kingdom cuisine describe it as bland, but its flavor relies on the quality of its components more than anything.

KEY CROPS: wheat, potatoes, carrots, green beans, apples, pears, and grapes KEY LIVESTOCK: Midland goats, fowl, and hogs

ROAST FOWL: Cheap and easy to raise, fowl is eaten all over Vestur and by all classes. Roasted whole birds are common throughout, but the Middle Kingdom's approach to preparation is notable for their squeamish insistence on removing the head and neck before roasting, even among poorer families. Fowl is usually roasted on a bed of root vegetables and shallots and served alongside gravy and green beans.

GOAT RIBEYE: Vestur does not have cattle – instead it has a widely diversified array of goats, the most prominent being the Middle Kingdom's own Midland goat. The Midland goat is a huge caprid that fills the same niche as cattle, supplying Vestur with meat and dairy products. Chevon from the Midland goat is tender with a texture much like beef, though it retains a gamier, “goat-ier” taste. It is largely eaten by the wealthy, though the tougher and cheaper cuts can be found in the kitchens of the working class. Either way, it is almost always served with gravy. (You may be sensing a pattern already here. Midlanders love their gravy.)

FETTUCCINE WITH CHEESE: Noodles were brought to the Middle Kingdom through trade with the South and gained popularity as a novel alternative to bread. The pasta of Midland Vestur is largely eaten with butter or cream sauce; tomato or pesto sauces are seldom seen.

CHARCUTERIE WITH WINE: Charcuterie is eaten for the joy of flavors rather than to satiate hunger, and therefore it is mainly eaten by the upper class. It is commonly eaten alongside grape wine, a prestigious alcohol uniquely produced by the Middle Kingdom. The flavor of grape wine is said to be more agreeable than the other wines in Vestur, though Southern pineapple wine has its share of defenders.

BREAD WITH JAM AND PRESERVES, TEA SANDWICHES, & ROSETTE CAKE: Breads and pastries are big in the Middle Kingdom. The Middle Kingdom considers itself the world leader in the art of baking. Compared to its neighbors, the baked goods they make are soft, light, and airy and they are proud of it. Cakes in particular are a point of ego and a minor source of mania among nobility; it is a well-established cultural joke that a Middle Kingdom noble cannot suffer his neighbor serving a bigger, taller cake. The cakes at Middle Kingdom parties can reach nauseatingly wasteful and absurdist heights, and there is no sign of this trend relenting any time soon.

CHOWDER, FARMER'S POT PIE, GRIDDLECAKES, EGGS, CURED MEATS: If you have the means to eat at all in the Middle Kingdom, you are probably eating well. Due to the Midland's agricultural strength, even peasant dishes are dense and filling. Eggs and cured meats are abundant, cheaper, and more shelf stable than fresh cuts and provide reprieve from the unending wheat and dairy in the Midland diet.

STEWED APPLES AND PEARS, JAM AND PRESERVES: The Midland grows a number of different fruits, with apples and pears being the most plentiful. In a good year, there will be more fruit than anyone knows what to do with, and so jams and preserves are widely available. Stewed fruit has also gained popularity, especially since trade with the Southern Kingdom ensures a stable supply of sugar and cinnamon.

NORTHERN KINGDOM - SETTLED

The Northern Kingdom is a harsh and unforgiving land. Historically, its peoples lived a nomadic life, but since the unification of the Tri-Kingdom more and more of the Northern population have opted to live a settled life. The “settled North” leads a hard life trying to make agriculture work on the tundra, but it is possible with the help of green meur. The Northern palate leans heavily on preserved and fermented foods as well as the heat from the native tundra peppers. Outsiders often have a hard time stomaching the salt, tang, and spice of Northern cuisine and it is widely considered “scary.”

KEY CROPS: potatoes, beets, carrots, tundra pepper KEY LIVESTOCK: wooly goats, hares*

GOAT POT ROAST: Life up north is hard work and there is much to be done in a day. Thus, slow cooked one-pot meals that simmer throughout the day are quite common.

VENISON WITH PICKLES: Game meat appears in Northern dishes about as much as farmed meat – or sometimes even more, depending on the location. Even “classier” Northern dishes will sometimes choose game meat over domesticated, as is the case with the beloved venison with pickles. Cuts of brined venison are spread over a bed of butter-fried potato slices and potent, spicy pickled peppers and onions. The potatoes are meant to cut some of the saltiness of the dish, but... most foreigners just say it tastes like salt, vinegar, and burning.

MINER STEW: While outsiders often have a hard time distinguishing miner stew from the multitude of beet-tinged stews and pot roasts, the taste difference is unmistakable. Miner's stew is a poverty meal consisting of pickles and salt pork and whatever else is might be edible and available. The end result is a sad bowl of scraps that tastes like salt and reeks of vinegar. The popular myth is that the dish got its name because the Northern poor began putting actual rocks in it to fill out the meal, which... probably never happened, but facts aren't going to stop people from repeating punchy myths.

RYE TOAST WITH ONION JAM: Rye is hardier than wheat, and so rye bread is the most common variety in the North. Compared to Midland bread, Northern bread is dense and gritty. It is less likely to be enjoyed on its own than Midland bread, both because of its composition and because there's less to put on it. Unless you've the money to import fruit spreads from further south, you're stuck with Northern jams such as onion or pepper jam. Both have their appreciators, but bear little resemblance to the fruit and berry preserves available elsewhere in Vestur.

HARE DAIRY: Eating hare meat is prohibited in polite society due to its association with the haretouched and heretical nomadic folk religions, but hare dairy is fair game. Hare cheese ranges from black to plum in color, is strangely odorless, and has a pungent flavor akin to a strong blue cheese. It is the least contentious of hare milk products. Hare milk, on the other hand, is mildly toxic. If one is not acclimated to hare milk, drinking it will likely make them “milk sick” and induce vomiting. It is rarely drunk raw, and is instead fermented into an alcoholic drink similar to kumis.

MAPLE HARES AND NOMAD CANDY: Maple syrup is essentially the only local sweetener available in the North, and so it is the primary flavor of every Northern dessert. Simple maple candies are the most common type of sweet, though candied tundra peppers – known as “nomad candy” – is quite popular as well. (Despite its name, nomad candy is an invention of the settled North and was never made by nomads.)

TUNSUKH: Tunsukh is one of the few traditions from the nomadic era still widely (and openly) practiced among Northern nobility. It is a ceremonial dinner meant as a test of strength and endurance between political leaders: a brutally spiced multi-course meal, with each course being more painful than the last. Whoever finishes the dinner with a stoic, tear-streaked face triumphs; anyone who cries out in pain or reaches for a glass of milk admits defeat. “Dessert” consists of a bowl of plain, boiled potatoes. After the onslaught of tunsukh, it is sweeter than any cake.

NORTHERN KINGDOM – NOMADIC NORTH

Although the Old Ways are in decline, the nomadic clans still live in the far North beyond any land worth settling. They travel on hareback across the frozen wasteland seeking “meur fonts” - paradoxical bursts of meur that erupt from the ice and provide momentary reprieve from the harsh environment. The taste of nomad food is not well documented.

KEY CROPS: N/A KEY LIVESTOCK: hares

PEMMICAN: Nomadic life offers few guarantees. With its caloric density and functionally indefinite “shelf life,” pemmican is about as close as one can get.

SEAL, MOOSE: Meat comprises the vast majority of the nomadic diet and is eaten a variety of ways. Depending on the clan, season, and availability of meur fonts, meat may be cooked, smoked, turned to jerky, or eaten raw. Moose and seal are the most common sources of meat, but each comes with its own challenges. Moose are massive, violent creatures and dangerous to take down even with the aid of hares; seals are slippery to hunt and only live along the coasts.

WANDER FOOD, WANDER STEW: When a green meur font appears, a lush jungle springs forth around it. The heat from red meur fonts may melt ice and create opportunities for fishing where there weren't before. Any food obtained from a font is known as “wander food.” Wander food is both familiar and alien; the nomads have lived by fonts long enough to know what is edible and what is not, but they may not know the common names or preparation methods for the food they find. Fish is simple enough to cook, but produce is less predictable. Meur fonts are temporary, and it's not guaranteed that you'll ever find the same produce twice - there is little room to experiment and learn. As a result, a lot of wander food is simply thrown into a pot and boiled into “wander stew,” an indescribable dish which is different each time.

CENVAVESH: When a haretouched person dies, their hare is gripped with the insatiable compulsion to eat its former companion... therefore, it is only proper to return the favor. Barring injury or illness, a bonded hare will almost always outlive its bonded human, and so the death of one's hare is considered a great tragedy among nomads. The haretouched – and anyone they may invite to join them – sits beside the head of their hare as they consume as much of its rib and organ meat as they can. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan processes the remainder of the hare's carcass so that none of it goes to waste. It is a somber affair that is treated with the same gravity as the passing of a human. Cenvavesh is outlawed as a pagan practice in the settled North.

HARE WINE: While fermented hare's milk is already alcoholic, further fermentation turns it into a vivid hallucinogen. This “hare wine” is used in a number of nomad rituals, most notably during coming of age ceremonies. Allegedly, it bestows its drinker with a hare's intuition and keen sense of direction... of course, truth is difficult to distinguish from fiction when it comes to the Old Ways.

SOUTHERN KINGDOM

The Southern Kingdom is mainly comprised of coast, wetland, and ever-shrinking jungle. While the land is mostly unfit for large-scale agriculture, seafood is plentiful and the hot climate is perfect for exorbitant niche crops. What they can't grow, they obtain easily through trade. Southerners have a reputation for eating anything, as well as stealing dishes from other cultures and “ruining” them with their own interpretations. KEY CROPS: plantains, sweet potato, pineapple, mango, guava, sugarcane KEY LIVESTOCK: fowl, marsh hogs, seals

GLAZED EEL WITH FRIED PLANTAINS: A very common configuration for Southern food is a glazed meat paired with a fried vegetable. It almost doesn't matter which meat and which vegetable it is – they love their fried food and they love their sweet and salty sauces in the South. Eel is a culturally beloved meat, much to the shock and confusion of visiting Midlanders.

NARWHAL STEW: Narwhal stew is the South's “anything goes” stew. It does not actually contain narwhal meat, as they are extinct (though the upper class may include dolphin meat as a protein) – instead, the name comes from its traditional status as a “forever soup,” as narwhals are associated with the passage of time in Southern culture. Even in the present day, Southern monasteries tend massive, ever-boiling pots of perpetual stew in order to feed the monks and sybils who live there. Narwhal stew has a clear kelp-based broth and usually contains shellfish. Beyond that, its ingredients are extremely varied. Noodles are a popular but recent addition.

FORAGE: The dish known as “forage” is likewise not foraged, or at least, it hasn't been forage-based in a good hundred years at least. Forage is a lot like poke; it's a little bit of everything thrown into a bowl. Common ingredients include fish (raw or cooked), seaweed, fried noodles, marinated egg, and small quantities of fruit.

HOT POT: Hot pot is extremely popular, across class barriers, in both the South proper and its enclave territories. This is due to its extreme flexibility - if it can be cooked in a vat of boiling broth, it will be. Crustaceans and shellfish are common choices for hot pot in the proper South, along with squid, octopus, mushrooms, and greens.

FLATBREAD: The Southern Kingdom doesn't do much baking. The vast majority of breads are fried, unleavened flatbreads, which are usually eaten alongside soups or as wraps. Wraps come in both savory and sweet varieties; savory wraps are usually stuffed with shredded pork and greens while sweet wraps – which are much more expensive – are filled with fruit and seal cheese.

GRILLED SKEWERS, ROAST SWEET POTATO: While a novel concept for Midlanders and Northerners, street food has long been a part of Southern Kingdom culture. You would be hard pressed to find a Southern market that didn't have at least three vendors pushing grilled or fried something or other. Skewers are the most common and come in countless configurations, but roast sweet potatoes are a close second.

CUT FRUIT AND SEAL CHEESE: Fresh fruit is popular in the South, both local and imported. While delicious on its own, Southerners famously pair it with seal cheese. Which leads me to an important topic of discussion I don't have room for anywhere else...

THE SOUTH AND CHEESE: Since the South doesn't have much in the way of dairy farming, cheese is somewhat rare in their cuisine – but it is present. And important. Cheese is the domain of the Church. Common goat dairy imported from the Middle Kingdom is turned to cheese by monks in Southern monasteries and sold to the Southern public, yes, but as you have noticed there is another cheese prominent in the Southern Kingdom diet: seal cheese. Seal cheese is unlike anything else that has ever been called cheese; the closest it can be compared to is mascarpone. It is is a soft, creamy cheese with a mild flavor and an indulgent fat content. It is used almost exclusively as a dessert, though it is only ever mildly sweetened if at all. It is extremely costly and held in high regard; the most religious Southerners regard it as holy. Dairy seals are a very rare animal and raised exclusively in a small number of Cetolist-Cerostian monasteries, where they are tended and milked by the monks. Due to their status as a holy animal, eating seal meat is forbidden. Eating their cheese and rendering their tallow into soap is fine though.

(HEARTLAND SOUTH) SOUTH-STYLE GOAT: The Heartland South is a Southern enclave territory in the Middle Kingdom. Visiting Midland dignitaries oft wrongly assume that because the Heartland South is in Middle Kingdom territory, Heartland Southerners eat the same food they do exactly as they do. They are horrified to find that familiar sounding dishes like “goat with potatoes” are completely and utterly unrecognizable, drenched in unfamiliar sauces and spices and served alongside fruit they've never eaten. Meanwhile, Heartland Southerners firmly believe that they have fixed the Middle Kingdom's boring food.

(BOREAL SOUTH) “TUNSUKH”: If Midlanders are afraid of Heartland Southern food, Northerners are absolutely furious about cuisine from the Boreal South - the most legendarily offensive being the Boreal South's idea of “tunsukh.” Southerners are no stranger to spice, so when Southern traders began interacting with the North, they liked tunsukh! It's just... they thought it needed a little Southern help to become a real meal, you know? A side of seal cheese soothed the burn and made the meal enjoyable. And because the meal was enjoyable, the portion sizes increased. And plain boiled potatoes? Well, those are a little too plain – creamy mashed sweet potato feels like more of a dessert, doesn't it? ...For some reason, Northerners didn't agree, but that's okay. The Boreal South knows they're just embarrassed they didn't think of pairing seal cheese with tunsukh sooner.

ARMY RATIONS

The food eaten by the King's Army is about what you would expect for late 1700s military; salt pork or salt chevon, hard tack, and coffee. The biggest divergence they have is also one of Vestur's biggest points of pride: they have the means to supply their troops with frivolous luxuries like small tins of candied fruit from the Midland. A love of candied fruit is essentially a Vesturian military proto-meme; proof that they serve the greatest Tri-Kingdom on the planet. Don't get between a military man and his candied fruit unless you want a fight.

#verse: forever gold #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #food worldbuilding #fantasy food #food art #animal death// #might have to proofread this later forgive any typos I am tired

[writing-relatedactivities]

A Very Ask A Manager Thanksgiving

So I love advice blogs (I maintain that comment sections on advice blogs are the best free tool for writers to explore different viewpoints, which really enriches your characterization), and for a few years now, I have had this idea that I want to do a do an Ask A Manager themed dinner, purely to delight myself. Meant to do it as a cookout this summer, but timing never worked out, so I broached the idea of doing it for Thanksgiving. My partner, who is also a nerd and therefore very supportive of my advice blog love even though it is not one of their interests, was down, with their only condition being that I should still make my cider bread with maple butter.

The menu:

Appetizers

Chips with:

Guacamole in honor of Guacamole Bob, of "ordering extra guacamole is wasteful of member dues” fame. (This being on the menu may also have been a factor in Partner being willing to have our holiday take on an Ask A Manager theme, as I once took a community education course on grilling that taught me nothing about its ostensible subject matter but did teach me to make a bomb-ass guacamole. The secret is that your first step should be to pulverize an entire head of garlic into a paste in your mocajete.)

Three store bought salsas, where the trick is to "fold" the salsa to get the best flavor

A bottle of hot sauce so we can get fired after a coworker steals our spicy food

Main Course

"Duck club" sandwiches in honor of the secret office sex club where you get points for sex in different locations, and quacking is involved. (These were very decadent and if anyone's interested in a great duck recipe, I used the Duck with Lemon recipe from A Feast of Ice and Fire.)

Sides

Cheap-ass rolls that I definitely deliberately brought to upstage you, yes you, the person who signed up to bring Hawaiian rolls! It's definitely not an overreaction on your part to declare that "they can all take Santa and stick it up their ass!" You're definitely not getting fired for being wildly hostile! (These are actually homemade rolls, but I weighed "buy actually cheap rolls and be done" or "spend a couple hours adapting a corgi butt roll recipe to a human butt roll," and chose in favor of the pun.)

Dessert

Bribery cupcakes, from that time a letter writer brought some cupcakes over to chat with her neighbor, the son of the Chief of Police, about a disruptive noise issue in her workplace and some commenters decided this constituted bribing a public servant. (The recipe is in the comments on that link; I made the carrot cake version. However, I realized halfway through that I was somehow low on vanilla despite obsessively buying fancy vanilla extract every time I am in a spice shop, along with a bunch of other things I don't need because buying cool spices makes me feel like a wizard. Anyway, half of these had vanilla in the filling/icing, and the other half had cardamom extract.)

A birthday cake that somehow crosses boundaries by...being too fancy? Being paid for a staff person? Not involving the wife in the planning? Anyway, the real answer to the letter writer's question is, "Eh, I don't think it's a big deal" because different offices have different norms around birthdays and it's whatever, but sometimes a low-stakes office norms question hits just right and you get 630 comments of people debating The One True Way to Do Office Birthdays, and whether or not buying a cake means you're angling for an affair. (Okay, not all the comments are about that particular letter. Anyway, I picked up this fancy-ass cake at Marc Heu Patisserie, and appropriately enough, the guy ahead of me in line was picking up a cake for his boss.)

And of course, what Ask A Manager column would be complete without chocolate teapots?

Beverages

Mudslides, because "girls love chocolate." And magic tricks. And being played "You're So Vain" on the piano with a mournful stare. Partner and I are both notorious lightweights but I had been snacking all day as I cooked so I was mostly immune. Partner took one sip of this drink and immediately began loudly telling me how their one colleague doesn't sing enough to his Pre-K students, and "this classroom will do anything if you sing to them!" After dinner, they lay down on the floor and sang the Slippery Fish song.

The full spread:

#ask a manager #askamanager #alison green #thanksgiving #cooking #adventures in nerdery

[morose-marble]

Incoherent ramble bc I have the brain worms about Apo

I am very annoying and also unwell, which is why I have taken to scrubbing through a not-insubstantial amount of episodes from Apo's lakorns (without subtitles) to form some kind of picture of what kind of roles he was cast in while employed by channel 3, and sending screen caps to literally anyone with a messaging app in my immediate social circle (they are in hell, thanks for asking). So, now that I have run out of people to torment with my obsessive tendencies, I am left with posting into the void on good ole tungle dot com.

So far, it seems that Apo's bread and butter was a wholesome, boy next door, nong type character (this is based on quite shaky interpretations of Sut Khaen Saen Rak, Buang Banjathorn, Chaat Payak and Prakasit Khammatep) with some exceptions, such as Tiang in Chat Suer Pun Mungkorn, a hot-headed young gangster. These aside, I have not yet formed a comprehensive understanding of his profile as an actor, as I can't seem to get my hands on some of the dramas at all.

The aforementioned roles were all supporting ones, and I could only find episodes for one of his two lead parts, that of Pong Khun Boon Jirakit in Pra Teap Rak Hang Jai, an enemies to lovers story(?). His character sells artisanal traditional Thai silk(?) and ends up falling for a rich woman (Preeyakarn Jaikanta) down on her luck who needs to become independent and better herself as a person(?). Quite a straightforward premise. (He wears a bunch of plaid in the show, he looks uncomfortable.)

Now. What I have noticed about Apo's career in supporting parts is that the male leads he supports are very...narrowly masculine, in comparison to him. Apo has talked about having faced homophobia/general cishet discriminatory nonsense in the industry at that time, and flicking through these shows really illuminates how rigid the concept of a lakorn romantic male lead was (maybe still is, I don't know). Obviously, I gathered that lakorn gender roles were a tad more conservative, but I still struggled slightly with understanding why Apo was treated the way he was, bc I feel like he is relatively conventionally masculine (my european perspective impacts my perception of what constitutes normative gender roles, I know) to the point where picking up on any ~queer~ vibes would be a gays only event. However, I feel like I get it a bit better now.

Apo is very handsome. He is also beautiful in a way that a lot of these leads aren't. They are pointedly conventionally masculine, not necessarily hypermasculine, but going towards that direction, something that is emphasised by their role in the narrative and acting style. Lots of stoicism and displays of quiet suffering and anger. I know, it's very reductive to place gendered presentations onto a spectrum etc etc, but if one were to operate within rigidly delineated binary requirements for gender presentation that exist in media (and society, there's nuance), Apo does not quite fit the criteria of a leading man within the given parameters. Which is terrible, of course. I can absolutely understand why Apo got fed up with the industry and decided to leave it all behind.

Additionally, as pointed out above with the repeated archetypal character traits, I feel that he did not get to flex his acting muscles in the narratives of these shows, which is another thing he has commented on, though maybe not in those words exactly.

Thinking about all of this makes his recent successes with Kinnporsche and Man Suang terribly interesting and delicious. I recognise that narrativising a celebrity's experiences as an affective story like this is mad parasocial brain rot behaviour, but the idea of him taking something that he was disparaged for earlier on in his career (perceived queerness) and turning it into a factor of him surpassing that which held him back is very attractive in a story sense. Like, what a triumph?

I'm not sure if any of this makes sense or if this is completely old news to everyone, but for some reason I had to get it out somewhere. I'll probably read this back in the morning and cringe mightily.

Anyway. What an interesting time to follow his advancement and the changes in the Thai BL industry, namely the increased attention from the government. I have fears, but I don't know how to articulate them yet. Therefore, I will focus on enjoyment for the time-being.

#apo nattawin #man suang #shine the series #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #mileapo

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

How would Riddler (which one is writers choice) react to a SO who drops those slightly infuriating jokes? (I just saw a post asking how you make an egg roll and the answer was 'push it' and I just think his reaction to those kinds of jokes would be hilarious)

"Groan-worthy" Riddler Party x Reader

Dude I'm such a sucker for Riddler's it's so difficult for me not to wanna go "my choice? all of the above" when it comes to that man. So you're getting all of them short and sweet!

TW: None

60s

Gotham

Takes him a second. Oh, you like puns? He gets that sheepish little smile and compliments how clever you are. It's much harder to come up with those than one would think! You have to have a good sense of word play, formatting of the joke and-

Oh, he's rambling. Yes. It was good! If it's a particularly bad one or he's stressed, he might give you an annoyed look. But normally he'll just smile.

The riddler who appreciates it the most! A lot of his riddles dance along the line of being riddles and those kind of jokes. Part of why he's always laughing! Puns and double entendres are his bread and butter.

The two of you will have each other hyena cackling to the point people can hear you from another room. There's definitely a jealousy amongst others that the two of you can find so much joy in each other over something so goofy.

Capullo

You would think he'd be way too cool for that and genuinely, he will attempt to act like he is. Try to fool you.

Then you tell just the right joke that's incredibly cheesy and he doesn't guess the punchline before you say it. You hear this deep ugly snort and then he's covering his mouth.

His jokes aren't necessarily groan worthy, they're just really fucking nerdy in a way that makes you roll your eyes when you get it.

Telltale games

BTAS

Audibly groans. You think that's cute, don't you? Then you notice he's smiling. He can't help it, you ARE cute. Even when you're being silly he can't help it. It's charming!

He likes to think his jokes are higher end but... they're verbose and require just a tad more thought. Still slightly infuriating.

Just looks at you. You can feel the judgement seeping into your soul.

If you REALLY enjoy them, he'll tell you dad jokes that are just awful. Terrible. But he tells them with a completely deadpan face reminiscent to "and don't call me shirley."

Batman 2022/Nashton

Arkham games

ANNOYED. Particularly if at any point he thought the joke was a real riddle or a genuine question. Yes. Ha ha. Word play. If you excuse him, he has real work to do and you're distracting him.

If he actually hurts your feelings with the attitude... he does an incredibly tired sigh, "I was going to tell you a joke about time travel.... but you didn't like it." Mini jazz hands. There. Did you like that one? What? Was that one not bad enough?

Autism. Look okay, we can say that for almost every riddler to an extent but this is the kind of shit he hyperfixates on. You've seen his cards? "I'm mad about you" "but it might spoil the chemistry" with a mad scientist on the card? UGH. He loves it.

Rhyming, puns... he gets SO excited. You know, he's never had someone to share these with, so once you do with that first joke... you see his eyes practically dilate like a cats. His time has arrived. You're about to get SO mad.

#riddler #edward nygma x reader #gotham riddler #btas riddler #capullo riddler #60s riddler #telltale riddler #arkham riddler #2022 riddler #foxwriting #riddler party

[sgiandubh]

Hello! I am Caitriona anon. My ask was prompted by a comment from succulently speaking who commented in your post a few days ago “what has Sam done wrong and what exactly do you want him to do”? You responded he needed to step up his game. That’s why I asked about Caitriona because I thought it funny how much you post about Sam and what he should or shouldn’t be doing and I thought, I wonder why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment? I've been following you since you got here. I understand your position. My only quibble is I don’t think of them as one entity and I think Cait especially has pushed against this for years. She’s offended at the notion. As I said, of course it's your blog and you can post whatever you'd like and certainly don't owe me an explanation, but I thank you for the one you gave anyway. I’ll continue to read you because I enjoy you. I hope I didn’t offend or that I was impertinent.

Dear (returning) Caitriona Anon,

For an Anti, you sound pretty literate and polite. So, I am going to answer you and try to keep this dialogue line open. Try me: keeping dialogues open is my bread and butter, IRL. Has been so for twenty years.

Thank you for understanding my position, but I do not really need to be 'understood', like a minor Romantic poet by his posterity. I try very hard to rationalize yours and I believe it is your constitutional right to believe what you want about this saga. Conversely, it is my prerogative to believe exactly what I want about it, based on what I do consider to be relevant facts. Not social media, press circus or PR induced tacky blogger manipulation.

Having said that, it is also my constitutional right to express my opinions and try to encourage others to do so, in a no-drama, friendly environment. It would also seem that determined Mordor to marginally step up their game, for I seem to be the nightmare these people collectively manifested every single time they howled 'the shippers are stupid', on full moon nights.

Shippers are everything but stupid, pumpkin. They are witty, funny and completely immunized to bullshit. For rhetoric bullshit with honors is your question: why Caitriona doesn’t get that same treatment?

You know very well why and I am going to tell you a Romanian proverb: cine nu muncește, nu greșește. Loosely translated: no work, no mistakes. How do you want me to say anything about a statue, who doesn't show us anything else about her life anymore, spare her outfits, her make-up and some rare events, with or sans the PA? Oh, and marGINally, her erratic business projects, for ever ongoing, hinted and never ever, God forbid, materialized? SAG-AFTRA strike? News of it never seemed to have made it to Caitrionaland. Israel-Palestine conflict? Prudent silence, but hello Tilda, darling, how are you. Ukraine? Last I heard/seen, a short appeal for helping the refugees and then crickets. Women's rights? Again, a short snippet on Persia, then mum. Just what the fuck is this supposed to be? Surely not a coherent PR strategy for a gifted, intelligent and fun (yes, fun!!) 44 year old actress who wants to keep her lucky strike going on! Let me tell you: she doesn't come across as dignified. She comes across as despising, condescending and entitled. Too cool for school, too sexy for your car, peons.

She is not Queen Victoria, for crying out loud, and we are definitely not amused!

You then proceed to say 'she pushed against it for years'? Please, do not insult my intelligence! She pushed against shippers who deface the nice Narrative, when she needed sympathy and massive support for her Belfast promo, unwittingly making a major PR blunder and for ever fracturing this fandom in at least two savagely antagonistic camps. Then, a cold, totally DGAF attitude, including towards her stans: tough to be her stan, when your Goddess is more silent than a Poor Clare (pun totally intended) nun! And she denied being an item with S (which is a complete, pious lie), because that is the Narrative, ever since IFH.

So, it's safe to say: yes, public Caitriona Balfe is dismissive of the notion, but since when is social media indicative of an undeniable or even intimate truth, especially in that particular world of hers? Oh, and by the way: sorry to be pedantic, but - it's offended by the notion, not 'at the notion'. Simple curiosity: you translate your thoughts from which language, exactly? My bet would be either German: bei, or Russian: обидеться на - yes: literally 'offended at'.

My complete Romanian proverb includes a conclusion. In full, it would be: cine nu muncește, nu greșește, dar nici nu reușește. No work, no mistake, no success.

How I wish to be proven wrong, Anon, on that one: you can't even imagine! Thank you for the time you took to answer me. I am afraid we agree to disagree. Change my mind? Not in a million years.

#Anon #fandom

[eggsploded]

yi sang boowomp

was giggling while doodling this

initial impression: incomprehensible. god have mercy on your soul. his design made me mad i was like how dare they make a guy this boring but yet i knew this fellow was deeply strange in a way close to the soul

current impression: my muse and my dear friend yi sang. in another universe i picked apples with him in my papas orchard. he is just pixels yet i am just dust. the wiki calls him 'peculiar with no malign intent' and i think that is a beautiful way to put it. he cares so much it made him sick. his language is quite literally flowery and filled with puns involving his own name. when hes announcer he calls the sinners his companions. he doesnt like blood. he asked if rodya was alright after sonya left. he moaned that one time in hells chicken. faust respects his wishes to not be called genius and uses it as a way to praise herself in the same breath. his gut bacteria is extraordinary. please be gentle with yourself as you are with others yi sang, i got you some vitamins for your shaky hands. be safe.

favorite moment: in canto 2 when theyre looking for someone to dance yi sang declines by saying My inner voice expresses fear. which is yi sang for: soy timido

story idea: in a radical act of loving himself yi sang learns to become an amateur foodie with world class vacuums heathcliff and rodya. he gets a tummyache 4 bites into a burger, but he promises to be brave about it. the other two promise to try the spicy noodles he likes and they cry so hard they throw up

favorite relationships: THIS GUY has a lot of love in him. hes very ideal to me, but not many of the sinners will put up with this sickly mans comment about how your skin cells look in bloom with sebum today. i mentioned gregsang in another post cuz i think theyre both darling little dudes. fausang is my bread and butter not really in a romantic sense but theyre definitely symbiotic. when they have beef its at a level you cant comprehend (because its in complete silence), and when theyre attempting physical touch its so stupid and childish you cant believe it. theyre yuri and yaoi when you need them to be. faust definitely doesnt like how perceptive he is and that he doesnt mean anything mean with it. hes so disarming to her she wants to both share her bag of snacks or bite and claw at him a bit. yi sang is yi sang about this, fausts faustitudes are unchangable like weather to him. he can admire the rain.

favorite headcanon: yi sang don and sinclair are the trio of all time. i know people call them car tower trio cuz that one cg but theyre the bird trio to me (don is a parakeet). theyre also board game freaks

#egg art #egg asks #yi sang

[i-like-anything-water]

fic idea, "The Adventures of a Drunk Queen Bee" chapter one, " what will happen if we tape buttered bread to Adrien's back and he jumps off a building? Will he land on his feet or on his back?"

There was laughing in the background as she adjusted the camera. Giving her signature smirk, Queen Bee wobbly stood up and gestured to the other heroes at the back.

"Hello, citizens of Paris! Today you will witness one of the greatest discovery to human and Kwami kind. An experiment worth your commoners attention span at 3 A.M. on a Monday." There was some shuffling and a red clad hand wrapped around her shoulder, the owner looking both amused and annoyed, "Bee, you're drunk."

"Citizens of Paris, this isn't the experiment I meant. Although, Ladybug and I have already tried various positions for better -"

"Oh my god, Bee!" A blushing Ladybug tackled her to the floor. There was some more giggling and a yelp as Rena appeared on the screen. Smiling mischievously, she grabbed the camera and not so gracefully walked over the two bugs, "The lovebirds are tied in a battle on who's going to come on top, but personally I think it's always Ladybug."

"Excuse me?!" Queen Bee's shriek made her laugh, "I am an amazing les-bee-an!"

"Not with those stupid puns."

A scoff, "You love my puns. You love anything that comes out of my mouth, darling."

"You being drunk should be a crime."

"You being an unsupportive girlfriend is a threat to humanity!"

Ladybug sighed as Queen Bee tried to wrestle her way out, "Why am I dating you?"

Silence. Then, "You wanna show the audience why? I wouldn't mind- ow, hey! You fucking brat!"

Rena shrugged as she turned the camera towards her, "They'll be fine. If I hear some non kiddy friendly sounds I'm kicking them off the roof."

Having reached her destination, she gave a bow as she showed their audience the 'experiment' Queen Bee had mentioned.

"Behold, cat on buttered bread. Will he land on his toes, back, or therapy?"

Chat Noir grinned and twirled, showing off the massive piece of bread drenched in butter at his back, "I don't mind either one. Father, are you seeing this? I can land on my own now!"

Carapace looked at the two, then at the camera, "I hope it's therapy."

#chlonette #chloenette #rena rouge #chat noire #carapace #ladybug #queen bee #crack #mlb crack #they all need therapy actually #i am not good with science so i really don't know what's the outcome

[patchworkgargoyle]

Editor Eddie

Did I write this solely because of the pun? Yes. It was, however, inspired by me wearing my Hellfire shirt and getting ready to sit down and beta a Steddie fic, as well as @inairbinad's Petals in a Storm (which people should go read).

Anyway, here's some extremely fluffy and domestic older!Steddie, with Eddie as a genre fiction/horror editor, in 735 words! Extremely brief and vague mention of a monster eating something's guts.

---

Red-marked pages lay scattered everywhere, solely illuminated by the hulking, faintly buzzing computer monitor that took up a good half of Eddie’s desk. Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, he held up a sheaf of papers with one hand, the other holding his pen to his mouth while he gnawed on the end. He distantly thought that if he kept chewing the pen might break and he’d look much like the monster currently being described in the chapter before him, red dripping down its chin. It was the third time the author had used the word ‘viscera’ in the same paragraph, and while pens didn’t have guts he knew that the ink would probably taste just as bad as that would. But as the monster was, apparently, ‘gleefully gorging’ on the aforementioned viscera, it probably wouldn’t agree.

He put the pages back down on the pile in front of him and scribbled out a few notes – “less viscera, more… entrails, gore, innards perhaps!” – then hunched over the words to continue reading about how the creature turned its horrifying visage towards the protagonist.

Editing was, mostly, the best job Eddie's ever had. Sure, it could be a slog to wade through a sea of purple literary prose or a desert of adjective-less, action-less nonfiction. Those were part of the job (though he’d grown enough to admit that sometimes he found gems even outside his beloved genre fiction tastes), and something he had to endure before he could climb his way to the fiction department. This, though, a carnage-filled horror romp? This was his bread and butter, his home away from home, his shit. Hell, it had been his life once upon a time. Getting to help up-and-coming authors improve their craft with his own love of storytelling and his lived, horrific experiences was awesome. It was one of the things that made March of ‘86 worth the terror and pain and scars.

Eddie was still slouched over the chapter, making note of a few misspellings, and so fully absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear the door to the office creak open. Hadn’t even heard the knock that preceded it. What he did notice was the plate being slid directly on top of the paper, a flaky croissant placed right in the centre, and Eddie suddenly realised he was really fucking hungry.

“How’s my favourite Eddie-tor doing?” Steve asked.

Eddie’s head fell back with the weight of the agony the pun caused and heard a few vertebrae pop. Glaring, he said, “That pun wasn’t funny the first fifty times you said it, sweetheart.”

“I haven’t said it that much.” Despite his defensiveness, Steve still looked entirely too amused at himself, smirking down at Eddie. The hallway light backlit him, casting him in a near halo of soft warmth, contrasted by the pale glare of the computer screen that highlighted his face and caught on the few grey hairs beginning to show. 

Steve was gorgeous still, maybe even more so after over two decades together. Worry lines and laugh lines alike brought a kind of charm and dignity to his face, and just the sight of those silvery strands in his hair always got Eddie feeling emotional. They were proof they’d survived. That it was over. That they could grow old, safely and with each other. He called them mithril just to see Steve’s nose scrunch and eyes roll at his references. 

“Okay,” Eddie conceded, “maybe just forty times.”

Though he scoffed, Steve stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve been locked away in here for five hours, babe, you should get up and stretch. Or at least turn on the light.”

“But overhead lights are the work of the devil, Steve, you know this. I can’t work under those conditions.” Eddie gave a shit-eating grin as Steve, with a deadpan expression, flicked on his desk lamp. “Oh yeah. Forgot that was there.” He had. Really.

“You’re so annoying,” Steve sighed, but Eddie saw the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You love it.”

The smile spread like the affection in Eddie’s chest at the sight. Steve bent down again, this time capturing Eddie’s lips in a sweet, slow, familiar kiss that made his toes curl just as much as any hungry, needy kiss would. Barely pulling back, Steve whispered, “Yeah. I do.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #ficlet #sav scrawls stuff #that's gonna be my writing tag

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hi hello im a dirty American heres some friendsgiving headcannons for the sp character

Cartman:

That man aint bringing shit

Only there for the food

The type of mf to steal ingrediants while youre cooking something

Dives RIGHT for the pumpkin pie

Nobody is happy

He denies it but its do obvious hes stealing shit 🤬

Does not wait for a toast

Bro just dives in

Getting seconds, thirds, fourths

When hes done theres no left overs

If he were to bring something id be pie

His moms recipe

BUT THIS LITTLE FUCK EATS IT IN THE CAR

Kyle:

Sometimes hosts the friendsgiving at his house

Brings the sparkling grape juice/apple juice

And also the Kosher things

Only has one helping, tries to get leftovers for the family or for kenny

Helps his mom cook when hes hosting

Setting the table always

Tries to toast but ends up yelling at Cartman for eating before hes done

Helps Ike pack for those little kindergarten thanksgivings?

Yknow when you dressed as a pilgrim and ate food?

Was I the only one who did that??

Stan:

He panicks and brings what he can find

"Hey dude! What you bring?"

"Uhhh... leftover mash potatos?"

Hes TRYING

Downing the sparkling juices like no tomorrow

The eggnog too

Cartman encourages it

"CHUG CHUG CHUG"

Watching the football game

RESTRAINS himself when it comes to food

Like, he wants it but knows Kyles gonna be pissed

Plays catch with everyone else

Or pingpong

Doesnt give a fuck about the Macys parade

Kenny:

Brings canned stuff he got from the food drive

Like cranberry sauce

Sneaking leftovers for his family

Plays catch with the boys

Died from a football lodged in his eye

Oh and from the

"Macys parade"

Incident

You dont want to know

Butters:

Brings the sweet potatos

Suggest christmas music/movies be played

Cartman called him gay immediately

So that got shut down

Brings the extra pies and everything since Cartman eats his

Lover of cranberry sauce and other things most people hate on thanksgiving

"Oh that was good! Could I have more please?"

"Butters what the fuck who likes CRANBERRY SAUCE???"

"I do!"

Doer of the toast

Often gets hit in the face when they play catch and cries

Can't stay for long cuz his parents are strict but hes there on video call rest of the time

Craig:

The type of mf when you ask what he brought he says

"My presence"

MF-

No!!!

You need to bring FOOD

They have to kick him out

He comes back with bread rolls or crackers, cheese and olives

So hes aloud back in

Doesnt care abt the parades or catch or anything

Just kinda there for Tweek

If someone asks him to do sonething he'll do it though

Hes limited by meals thanks to his braces

He doesnt care

Thats future craigs problem

Flips someone off if they beat him in a sport

Or flips off the tv when someone does something stupid in football

Has restraint when it comes to food

Bro will just wait

Wait

Wait

Wait

And then devour his plate in seconds

Tweek:

Brings homemade cider or pumpkin spice

Panicked the whole time

Hiding upstairs half the time

At least until food

He looks like a sopping wet cat

Doesnt really eat that much

Convinced the food is poison

Dont try to reassure him either he doesnt trust you

Has to check a million times though

"Is this poison???"

"No???"

"GAHH!! I dont believe you!!"

Leaves after feasting

He can only handle so much

Arrives super late too which is ironic

Jimmy:

Brings the food over and makes a puns

Like puts devil horns on eggs

"Jimmy what is that?"

"D-d-d-deviled Eggs"

Bro is telling thanksgiving jokes every second

Does the toast some years

Its like a stand up comedy routine tho

He lets you eat during that

Sneaking food

Mischievous little bastard

Puts on family fued when he realizes the boys are too pissed at football

Also has brace limits

But does he follow them ever? Nope

Drinks sparkling juice from a wine glass

Able to keep the party going for a WHILE he has ENERGY

Card playing KING

Winning at Crazy 8s left and RRRRIGHTTTTTT

Clyde:

Brought mac and cheese

Either that or bread

Food sneaker

Thinks hes good at sports

Hes not

He gets hit in the face so often

And cries

Tried Tweeks coffee

Started coughing and gagging immediately

Hes a picky eater im calling it now

Like will not eat if he doesnt think he'll like it

Me too Clyde i get it

Likes the Macys parade

Fucking weirdass

Arrives a bit before Tweek but is still late

The mf to get seconds

Wont eat before the event either

Saving his stomach for yum yums

Tolkien:

Also hosts

Helps his parents with food

Makes the dinner table look like a whole buffet

When hes not hosting he brings stuffing or some expensive good food

Or like

Homemade dip?

Casserole?

Idk

Seems like itd change every year

Great at sports

Helps clean up too

Toasts sometimes

Very generic toast

Doesnt seem like someone who has much to say

#south park #southpark butters #southpark #sp butters #sp tweek #sp craig #sp headcannons #tolkien black #tolkien #south park tweek #craig x tweek #tweek tweak #craig tucker #kyle brovlofski #eric cartman #stan marsh #thanksgiving

[averagetmntfan]

Secret admirer<3

((a tbadm Au fic!))

NOTE: this is not just my au. It’s a collaboration with @mikey-rottmnt

Mugman Walked to his locker, her expression blander than butter on bread. Their enthusiasm was completely drained. He glanced at her history test with pity.

‘Great, another D minus. Dads gonna murder me! And I bet mr. Goody two shoes got another perfect score.’

He sighs, struggling to open her locker when-

“Heyy, tea kettle!” A familiar, irritating voice called out from behind. ‘Oh god. Not him. ANYONE BUT HIM!!’ Mugs turned slightly to his left, and just as he thought..

it was none other then Koi peach. His mortal enemy. Frenemy? None of them were really sure, actually. As far as mugs was concerned, koi was your typical Highschool jackass who was trying to get a reaction outta him. “whatcha up to, water head?” Koi casually leaned his arm on mugs head. “Opening my locker, dumbass.” They hissed, shoving off Koi’s bulky arm.

“jeez! Anger issues, much???” Koi teased, unknowingly pushing mugs to her breaking point. Finally, the locker opened!! Now this made our blue boy less sad. He hummed to herself, giving koi a shit eating grin. As they grabbed their textbook, a scrap piece of paper launched into his face.

“seriously? Who’s puts literal garbage in a-!” They pause. Her cheeks burned as he read the note. ‘Hi mugs! (God I hope this was the right lockers —.—) or should I say cutie? Ok sorry that was kinda corny, wasn’t it? Uh, anyway I’d like to say that ur rlly cool. I’ve seen some of ur artwork in class and I gotta say, you got serious talent dude!! Do u mind teaching me some time??’ huh. Weird..there no signature on it. It’s..anonymous! As if on que, mugs attention was drawn to the other scrap paper that was shoved into his locker. They pick it up and read the paper. Aw, it was a cute little pun!! How thoughtful!! He lets out a laugh of pity from the terrible joke. Curious, koi peek his head over mugs shoulder. “What’s that at the bottom????” He points and at the bottom of the paper,

in cursive,

it was signed.

‘Your secret admirer.❤️’

Yeah, this is actually a fic that’s in my story book!! And I guess this is lore??? Idk

But there will be more abt this in the future!!!

..h-hopefully-

#<3 #jj rambles #Tbadm #tbadm au #oooo~ #Tbadm mugs #tbadm koi #Hs! Mugs #Hs! Koi

[dystopicjumpsuit]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @deejadabbles! I've got a Neyo x the Bad-miral snippet today, and for once, it's SFW, though she does allude to their previous sexual encounter. This story is coming very soon to the @tcwmatchmakingau account, so for my readers who enjoyed "Everybody Hates Neyo," keep your eyes peeled!

Note: I converted the Admiral!Reader into an OC because she's 🎵The Worst,🎵 and I didn't want to project that onto my readers. Her name is Reeda Wai'yen as a nod to her origins, because I never met a pun I didn't love 😏

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, jaw clenched. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

[redacted for length]

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

---

NPTs: @wolffegirlsunite @enigmaticexplorer @523rdrebel @nika6q @freesia-writes @blueink-bluesoul @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar and anyone else who wants to join in! I probably double-tagged people; I apologize.

#wip wednesday #wip tag #commander neyo #neyo x the admiral #the bad-miral #dystopicjumpsuit writes

[lilybug-02]

Do you ever get tired of hearing bread puns?

Because Crust me, Bread,

you deserve much butter.

Rye would I NOT loaf bread puns? They complete my doughy heart. Besides, regular puns pan in comparison to toasty buns. I'm on a roll with them!

#bread #ask stuff #bread puns #made me smile