#the point here is not that there are no out of touch mean vegans or out of touch mean meat eating people btw those are
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I fucking hate the veganism fights like all fights online have no nuance and are in super bad faith but man the veganism one is just... something else
I've never heard any vegans be like 'yeah I don't care about agricultural workers lol' and I've never heard anyone who thinks that animal products can be consumed ethically be like 'ha ha factory farm/slaughterhouse/meat packing plant employees can go die actually!'
I think. People who feel strongly about what we are eating in general do care about Pretty Much Everything
I'm friends with some vegans vegetarians and they're friends with me and like... it's. Fine. And not in a 'we Don't Talk About It' way at all!!!! In a like 'we can talk about food systems and what we would ideally like to be able to do within them'
I'm someone who tried to be vegetarian once and had to stop for health reasons. I'd love to be able to only eat animal products from small local farms who i trust to treat all their animals ethically but for health and money reasons can't rn. None of my friends who eat differently than me are mean about that? I don't know comma man it's just. I think we all care a lot about everything actually. Which is why everyone's so fucking mad lmao
This is a pointless post which is why no one can reblog it 🥲 I just feel like omfg the veganism fight has the BIGGEST STRAWMEN IN THE WORLD its like ... straw mechas
Actually that's a really good mental image. Strawmechas. Bad ass
#the point here is not that there are no out of touch mean vegans or out of touch mean meat eating people btw those are#both self evidently true facts.#🥲🥲🥲#i think something that gets lost is that like...#if you do see someone being fucking bonkers you can just block them?#like yeah i do see comments from super mean vegans about how all pet ownership is abuse#and 'theres no reason why ANYONE cant be vegan'#so i go wow those guys are weird and i dont wish to see them. and i simply block them. and its fine.#you too can interact only with reasonable vegan/vegetarians with this one hot tip!#ONLY SPEAK TO THE ONES WHO ARENT MEAN !
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[ID: Cookies topped with powdered sugar. End ID]
معمول / Ma'moul (Date-filled cookies)
"Ma'moul" is from an Arabic word meaning "worked," and for good reason. These cookies are a lot of work. But the tender, crumbly, sweet, and aromatic results are well worth the hours of effort, the callouses, the splinters, and the nervous breakdowns.
Ingredients:
For the dough:
462.513g fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم)
203.2g cultured vegetarian clarified butter (سمن نباتي)
60.06g caster sugar
16 pinches dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)
604 granules instant yeast
68 toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)
67 toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)
Water (as needed)
The semolina flour must be fine. Not too fine, like pasta flour, nor too coarse, like... well, like coarse semolina. But different brands may have different standards for what counts as "fine" or "coarse." Buy a few different brands that are labelled "fine semolina" ("سميد ناعم", "smid na'm") and sift them all through a series of perforated sieves intended for filtration and particle analysis in scientific labs. These should only run you a few thousand dollars. You'll want to gather together all the particles that measure 0.8 to 1.0mm, and save the rest for another application, like semolina bread.
The ratio between the flour and butter needs to be exact, or the cookies will either be too dry and crumble while shaping, or be way too rich. Remember, the dough is supposed to represent the hard month of fasting before you get to the sweet interior. It should be a little bit miserable to eat. So be sure to measure precisely. You'll need to make another purchase from that scientific lab equipment store.
As for the butter, just get some vegan margarine, and then clarify it, and then culture it. It's not that hard. I can't explain everything to you.
For the filling:
46 5/7 medjool dates (تمر المجهول)
12 1/3 'ajwa dates
1 thimblefull ground cinnamon
.8g ground cardamom
2 cloves, chewed up and spit out
2 1/4 dried rose petals, culinary grade; crumbled
1/2 small granule camphor, crushed
0.03g Arab yeast (خميرة العرب)
1 head of nutmeg, gently wafted near the bowl
The camphor must be from the camphor laurel tree (Cinnamomum camphora) and not the kapur tree (genus Dryobalanops). Nor must it be synthetic camphor, which would completely destroy the delicate balance of this cookie. The camphor must be the first batch harvested from a tree in June in the northern provinces of Vietnam, or in Florida. On this there can be no compromise.
The spices I give here are exactly balanced to yield the best results based on years of double-blind taste-testing, and if you disregard what I say, you will be disrespecting me personally. Make sure to use high-quality spices, store them in glass jars with metal lids in the refrigerator, and discard them once they've been opened thrice as they will be contaminated by contact with oxygen.
The date cultivars listed here are just a suggestion. Actually you can use whatever dried fruit you want. I'm not your mother.
I don't really know what Arab yeast is tbh? So good luck finding that one. Do as I say, not as I do.
Instructions:
1. Mix melted butter and semolina flour well with your hands. Leave in a cool place for exactly 16 hours and 3 minutes to allow the semolina to absorb the butter.
2. Add the rest of the dry ingredients to the flour and mix well. Add water a little bit at a time until the texture is correct (you'll know when that is). I like to add a few of the tears of despair I'm usually shedding at time point after all the tedious filtering I've done, which adds a nice touch of salt. Mmm, electrolytes.
3. Make the filling. Don't bother pitting the dates if you've got a high-quality meat grinder.
4. Measure out dough into balls of 40.05g. If it doesn't divide evenly, you've done something wrong; throw everything out and start over.
5. Divide the filling into the same number of balls as you have dough. I trust you can count.
6. Throw the balls of dough at the counter with great speed to flatten. Top with the balls of filling, then fold the dough over and pinch to seal.
7. Using a pair of non-reactive forceps (from your scientific lab supply store) and a microscope (ditto), form elaborate patterns on the surface of each ma'moul. Use your own sense and taste. Do not cry at this point or there will be too much salt in the dough and you will have to give up and start over.
If you're a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care what your cookies look like you can use a mold for this, I guess. It's honestly whatever to me.
8. Bake in a brisk oven until done.
Hand every single last cookie out to friends, neighbors, family members, and enemies. Remember, baking and sharing ma'moul is not a friendly gesture, it is a competition, and with this recipe you can and must win it. Godspeed on your journey.
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For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX
again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.
(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)
--------
“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.
“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.”
“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”
“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.”
Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.)
Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch.
Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out.
Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching.
His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—
“We could just like, get married.”
Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would. And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.
“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?”
“But it’s not a no.”
Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.
Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out.
“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.
And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation.
What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.
He isn’t sure.
But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.
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(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)
#landoscar#lando norris#oscar piastri#ln4#op81#mctwinks#twinklaren#f1 rpf#asks#wiz.promptfill#<- don't even know if i use this tag lmao but only one way to find out#green card marriages man what a tried and tested excellent trope#also one i've never written before!! so thanks or letting me dabble in the drabble#prompt game#wisteria HCs#why do picture blocks conspire against me lately#they just get so aggressive when i try to put 3 in a row on this device#anyway#yapping
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I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.
But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.
Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.
This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.
And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.
If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.
My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."
Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.
I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.
Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.
And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."
And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat
my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.
That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.
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TWEEK: Okay
TWEEK: You
TWEEK: Mister
TWEEK: Tinfoil
TWEEK: Hat
TWEEK: Guy
KENNY: Stan
TWEEK: What
KENNY: His names Stan
TWEEK: Okay
TWEEK: Cool
TWEEK: I'm not gonna remember that
TWEEK: You said you had
TWEEK: Like
TWEEK: A bunker
TWEEK: Right?
STAN: Yeah
CRAIG: Dog shit covered ahhh barn 💀
TWEEK: Why is he saying Skull emoji out loud
TOLKIEN: Not even WE know at this point
KYLE: We gotta get him to stop that
KYLE: It's more annoying than
KYLE: ….Whatever….. Stan's got going on
CRAIG: Omg not you slandering me 💀
CRAIG: Don't even rn you look like the Goodwill shat you out
KYLE: Fuck you
KYLE: You know that Supreme hoodie isn't even real Supreme, right?
CRAIG: Lmao what
CRAIG: Me when I lie
KYLE: Nonononono
KYLE: Look look look
KYLE: It says “Souprem”
KYLE: It's fake merch dude
KYLE: Its as fake as those fucking yeezys
CRAIG: ….
KYLE: …Dude?
CRAIG: No that's my other hoodie
KYLE: Are you fucking serious
KYLE: You aren't even rich stop acting like you are
CRAIG: Nuh uh
KYLE: FUCK YOU MEAN NUH UH????
TOLKIEN: Kyle, just give it up
TOLKIEN: Trying to convince Craig he isn't rich is like trying to convince a toddler to wipe their own ass
TOLKIEN: It's not worth it
CLYDE: ….
CLYDE: Why do I feel like that was directed towards me?
TOLKIEN: Because It was, Clyde
CLYDE: OH COME ON I WASH MY OWN ASS
TOLKIEN: NO THE FUCK YOU DO NOT YOU SMELL LIKE A TACO BELL
CLYDE: FUCK YOU
CLYDE: AT LEAST TWEEK LIKES ME
TOLKIEN: OH SURE SURE SURE
TOLKIEN: TWEEK DOESN'T ACTUALLY LIKE YOU
TOLKIEN: THERE'S NO WAY SOMEONE LIKE TWEEK WOULD BE STUPID ENOUGH TO GO AFTER YOU, YOU FUCKING TESTOSTERONE FUELED SHITSTAN
CLYDE: THANK YOU FOR ACKNOWLEDGING I'M TRANS BUT FUCK YOU FOR INSULTING ME
TOLKIEN: YOU’RE VERY WELCOME, FUCK YOU TOO
CLYDE: YOU KNOW WHAT?? I BET YOU 30 BUCKS I CAN PULL IN TWEEK WITH MY MANLY AWESOMENESS
TOLKIEN: I BET YOU A MILLION DOLLARS YOU CAN'T
CLYDE: FINE
TOLKIEN: FINE
CLYDE: LETS FUCKING GO
CLYDE: I'LL ASK OUT TWEEK AND IT'LL BE THE MOST ROMANTIC THING EVER
STAN: Hmmm
STAN: At my barn we could like
STAN: Use my dad and my sister
STAN: As like
STAN: Food
KYLE: Dude no
KYLE: I am not resorting to cannibalism
CARTMAN: Kahl, you’ve eaten animals, that's basically like eating people
KYLE: Okay mr “forty big macs in one day”
CARTMAN: Uhm, actually they're vegan chicken patties KYLE
CARTMAN: ALSO did you just ASSUME my GENDER????
CARTMAN: YOU ARE GETTING C A N C E L L E D
CARTMAN: I WANT A TEAR RIDDEN UKELELE FILLED APOLOGY RIGHT NOW
KYLE: Oh my GODDDDD
KENNY: Actually studies show that most human meat is similar taste wise to chicken
CRAIG: I thought it was pork
CRAIG: Like
CRAIG: Deadass
CRAIG: Like pigs
CRAIG: Like deadass pigs
KENNY: We know what pork is CRAIG
STAN: Yeah
STAN: So we’re fucking set
CARTMAN: Uhhh no thanks, i’d rather be one with the animals and eat dirt and hay
STAN: We don't even have animals
CARTMAN: I’ll just eat the weed then
STAN: What
KENNY: What
KYLE: What
CRAIG: LMAOOOOOOO IM DEADDDDDDD 💀 💀 💀
CARTMAN: What???
CARTMAN: It's like eating catnip
CARTMAN: Besides its environmentally friendly
STAN: What's your source
CARTMAN: Wikipedia
STAN: Ooooof course it is
STAN: The internets lying to you, you know
CARTMAN: Fuck off, Stan, Queermo
STAN: IM TELLING THE TRUTH HERE
TWEEK: HhhhuGiyhvfdeiohjd
TWEEK: OKay
TWEEK: Cool
TWEEK: We’re set on a TOTALLY ANONYMOUS LOCATION
TWEEK: Awesome
TWEEK: Great
TWEEK: Dandy even!
TWEEK: Everyone
TWEEK: Lets hold hands
CRAIG: I am not touching Clydes fucking shitstained hands
TWEEK: Fine
TWEEK: I’ll hold Clyde's hand
TOLKIEN: Why do you wanna touch Clydes hands thats fucking nasty
CRAIG: For real
CRAIG: Preach 🙏🙏🙏
TWEEK: I don't care
TWEEK: It's just for a bit
TWEEK: I can wash my own hands afterwards
CRAIG: EWWWW FAGS
CLYDE: Aww… really?? :D
TWEEK: Fine
TWEEK: Sure
TWEEK: Whatever
CLYDE: Nobody other than Tolkien has wanted to hold my hand before! :DD
TOLKIEN: Was that before or after I figured out you don't wash your hands
TWEEK: Who else is fine with
TWEEK: Touching Clyde
CRAIG: Stop making me have gay thoughts, Playboi Carti
TWEEK: What
TWEEK: I don't
TWEEK: I'm not
TWEEK: Just
TWEEK: Hold hands
TWEEK: You all have socks on
TWEEK: I think
TWEEK: So it's not gay
CARTMAN: Uhm erm erm erm
CARTMAN: Actually
CARTMAN: That's a homophobic statement
TWEEK: CRAIG SAID A FUCKING SLUR?????????
TWEEK: WHAT???????
TWEEK: IM
TWEEK: HUH
TWEEK: WHAT
TWEEK: OKAY
TWEEK: JUST
TWEEK: JUST HOLD HANDS
TWEEK: STOP MAKING THIS HARDER FOR ME
CLYDE: Wow
CLYDE: I forgot
CLYDE: What holding hands felt like
KYLE: Woah
KYLE: This reminds me of the first episode of My Little Pony
KYLE: Where
KYLE: Twilight and her friends
KYLE: Find the friendship trinkets or whatever
KYLE: And they reverse the curse on them that turns them into stone
KYLE: And they used them to like
KYLE: Defeat Nightmare Moon
KYLE: Turning her back into Princess Luna
KENNY: That was so fucking gay
KENNY: I feel like I'm gonna vomit rainbows because of you
CARTMAN: Kenny stop being homophobic
CARTMAN: I will cancel you again
KENNY: Fuck off I know that blue hair you wear online is a wig
CARTMAN: BITCH-
TWEEK: SHUT UP
TWEEK: ALL OF YOU
TWEEK: MY SATAN
TWEEK: CAN YOU ALL GO LIKE
TWEEK: TWO MINUTES WITHOUT FIGHTING AND OR DEGRADING EACH OTHER
KENNY: ….
CARTMAN: ….
KYLE: …..
LITERALLY EVERYONE: …..
CRAIG: Slllaaa-
TOLKIEN: Dont
TOLKIEN: Just
TOLKIEN: Do not
TOLKIEN: Actually, you’ve lost speaking privileges
CRAIG: 😡
TWEEK: Alright
TWEEK: Is
TWEEK: Is everyone holding hands
CRAIG: yeah its like Kumbaya frfr
TOLKIEN: Stop talking
TWEEK: Okay
TWEEK: Alakazam
TWEEK: Alakazane
TWEEK: Im sending you off this mortal plane
KYLE: Wait wha-
CRAIG: Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe! Like And Subscribe!
KENNY: Yoooo
CRAIG: Like and Share! Like and Share! Like and Share!
TOLKIEN: Haaaaa
TOLKIEN: What
TOLKIEN: Was that
TWEEK: Magic Trick
TOLKIEN: What
TWEEK: Hey you have a lot of free time when you live in a dumpster
CRAIG: Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link! Copy link!
TOLKIEN: Whatever, please for the sake of our brain cells, never do that again
KENNY: I dunno
KENNY: I thought that was pretty cool
CRAIG: Kombucha? I LLLOOOVVVEEE KOMBUCHA! Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA Kombucha? I LOVE KOMBUCHA
TWEEK: Alright
TWEEK: Humans
TWEEK: Freaks
TWEEK: Whatever your names are
TWEEK: Get in the fucking barn
TWEEK: Now, quoting the safety psas from Estella,
TWEEK: Don't open the door for strangers, Don’t investigate any random noises, don't take any offers from strange men in white vans, don't help anyone, if anyone says they're friends of your parents do not trust them
TWEEK: And for goodness sake,
TWEEK: USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM
CRAIG: I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis! I'm addicted to Takis!
STAN: One, what are we, five?
STAN: Second
STAN: It's a backup bunker, not a barn
TWEEK: WHATEVER! JUST- GET IN
TWEEK: DO YOU WANNA LIVE OR NOT????
STAN: No
TWEEK: …
STAN: …
TWEEK: ….
STAN: ….
TWEEK: ….
TWEEK: O….
TWEEK: Kay…..
TWEEK: Just…..
TWEEK: Get in the barn
STAN: Fineeeee
STAN: Whatever
STAN: Fuck you
CRAIG: [ Gotta sleep in fucking pig shit this sucks fuck this ]
CLYDE: Hey
CLYDE: Hey
CLYDE: Hey Tweek
TWEEK: Arrrghhh…What….
CLYDE: Do
CLYDE: Do you
CLYDE: Do you think
CLYDE: Do you think we
CLYDE: Do you
CLYDE: Do you think we could
CLYDE: Maybe
CLYDE: Like
CLYDE: Go to like
CLYDE: Dennys
CLYDE: After this???
TWEEK: Whats
TWEEK: What's Dennys?
CLYDE: Oh
CLYDE: Uh
CLYDE: Maybe we could like
CLYDE: Go to Olive Garden then?
TWEEK: What
TWEEK: What's an olive?
TWEEK: And
TWEEK: And what's a Garden?
CLYDE: …
CLYDE: Oh you poor
CLYDE: Sweet
CLYDE: Summer child
CLYDE: You know what
CLYDE: I'm gonna take you to the Olive Garden
CLYDE: And you're gonna have the time of your fucking life
TWEEK: Uh
TWEEK: O
TWEEK: OKAY?????
CLYDE: Alright
CLYDE: I’ll see you there babe
TWEEK: Uh
TWEEK: UHHH
TWEEK: WHAT
TWEEK: DID YOU JUST CALL ME BABE
TWEEK: WHAT???
TOLKIEN: Don’t fall for that shit
TOLKIEN: He doesn't wash his hands
TOLKIEN: Or his ass
TWEEK: Why's that relevant?
TOLKIEN: IT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING?????
TWEEK: CHILL OUT IT'S NOT THAT BAD
TOLKIEN: YES IT IS??????
TWEEK: …Whatevs
TOLKIEN: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????
(edits made by @pissblanket)
#craigfluencer#craig tucker#hellpark#south park#south park edits#southpark#sp#underworld park#underworld park tweek#underworld park pip#underworld park clyde#underworld park tolkien#underworld park kyle#underworld park kenny#underworld park stan#underworld park cartman#blue_haired_cartman#underworld park thomas#underworld park estella#underworld park gregory
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A murderous game of cat and mouse
Summary: Your jealously reaches boiling point and shows Wanda how you deal with jealously, very dramatic of you to be honest poor Wanda, like she's stalked you for months and sent you poems and you treat her like this? God how dare you, poor Wanda
Words: 2,100
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI Angst and swearing, murder, blood. The serial killer Wanda becoming soft and underestimating Y/n and also brief mention of Agatha (she'll be in here more in the future)
Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx (if anyone wants to be added let me know!)
"So Y/n who's this grumpy cat sat next to you?" The woman sat across the booth from you with Nat stood above you and Wanda sat next to you "a friend, she's here to make sure you keep to your deal" Wanda looked at you surprised moving her hand to your knee but you didn't flinch instead keeping your eyes on Agatha and taking a drink of your cocktail "a friend huh? Well okay then"
The meeting carried on without another word about Wanda and finished in a timely manner with Agatha agreeing to keep business with you and the three of you leaving the place in relatively good spirits, that was until Wanda pulled you aside leaving Nat in the car
"Y/n my love I don't understand what's going on? Why are you upset?" Wanda intertwined your hands while you refuse to look at her "are you angry?"
You pulled your hand away reaching into her pocket for what you were looking for, the knife, you ran it across her bare arm wordlessly "Y/n?"
"You annoyed me before" you said grabbing her arm and digging the knife in cutting her "does it hurt?"
She shook her head "no" wincing slightly at the clear pain but still refusing to say it hurt
You half smiled "shame, I want to hurt you" you turned away from her leaving her bleeding but Wanda didn't want to let you go "moya lyubov' if you want to hurt me, hurt me, I can take it"
You turned back around looking at her pouting "come here" she near enough jumped into your arms happy to be touching you again, suddenly a sharp pain pierced her abdomen and she gasped "Y/n?"
You smirked against her neck "do you feel it? A hot white pain? That's how I felt seeing you flirt with my friend, you won't be sleeping with her anytime soon, you need to learn that just because you can kill a few men and sweet talk me with poetry doesn't mean you can be a fucking brat"
Wanda refused to fall down instead kissing you hard trying to get any kind of pleasure from the searing pain she felt, you kissed her back pulling the knife out of her stomach hearing her groan into your mouth
You pulled away from her "oh honey" you stroked her face, the sweat starting to gather on her face "you know you'll be okay but you know why I did it right?"
She nodded hoarsely apologising "s-sorry" she started to fall but Nat appeared holding her up by the waist "I leave you two alone for 20 minutes and you stab her? In broad daylight? You're brave" the world around Wanda started to blur and the voices echoed into the background as the blood pulsed through to her ears
"Well she wanted to see my jealousy, that's what she gets"
Nat approved "well damn, I'm impressed"
You took Wanda from Nat holding her up and kissing her cheek "don't get too cocky Nat, you're the one who started it, sleep with one eye open"
Nat laughed "yeah okay whatever, where are you taking her?"
"To the apartment, she needs to rest"
"I'll start the car up" Nat turned back to the car opening the door so Wanda could lay down in the backseat with you, her head was lay on your lap and you stroked the hair out of her face holding both hers and your hand on her wound "beautiful" you whispered and a small whimper escaped her lips "shh rest, you'll feel better soon"
********************************************************
Wanda woke up a few hours later in a bed with a bandage around her stomach "good evening princess, we got you a burger, hope you're not vegan" Nat threw the bag at her and it "accidentally" fell onto her stomach "fuck off Natasha you did that purposely" she sat up stretching then immediately regretted it when the pain returned
"You deserved it you know?" The woman sat on the bed taking dome fries out of the bag eating them "I didn't think I deserved to be stabbed" she groaned
"Told you she's scary, but you impressed her by staying alive, she's waiting for you in the kitchen" Nat left Wanda alone to nibble at the burger but she eventually threw it away finding it inedible, finally she got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen seeing you sat on a stool looking through some papers and Wanda put on a happy demeanour.
"There's my killer girlfriend" she tried but you threw her a collar "wear it, I'm sick of the cat and mouse game, you want to be mine you will be, wear it"
Wanda scoffed "why don't you wear the collar? You're my pet" she picked the collar up still admiring the red colour "it is nice though"
You turned on the stool revealing another collar in your hand "I'll put it on when you do"
Wanda agreed putting the collar around her neck feeling your eyes on her the whole time "happy?" she finished and you jumped off of the stool walking towards her kissing on the cheek "you look beautiful" she kissed your lips refusing to let you stop but you pulled away just as quick "you don't get anything from me yet, we need to do something first, do you feel up to it?"
"Yes, yes anything!" Wanda cringed internally, she'd never sounded so desperate in her life "what do you need?"
Your hand skated over her bandage and the dried blood that had bled through admiring your own handiwork "I need to go and deal with someone, you can help me, come on" you left the kitchen followed by your redhead, she wondered what it was but she had a pretty good idea what it would be anyway, she was just happy you weren't still mad at her
************************************************************
"So you want me to kill someone? Because you know I will, I stand by what I said detka, I'll kill anyone to make you happy"
You smirked at her desperation "and you think your a top, that's hilarious"
The woman shrugged "I'm still a top baby, we're just going through a rough patch"
You both entered an old abandoned warehouse and you searched for the light illuminating the room and Wanda's eyes landed to the middle of the room where an unconscious man sat "kill him and you'll get your wish to fuck me while covered in blood" you were pressed against her back kissing her neck and hearing her moan, god she was so sensitive for you.
"Who is he?" She asked
"Does it matter?" You pressed the special knife into her opened hand "our special knife is the perfect tool for him" you rounded her to face her and was bemused by her confused face "where has all that bravado gone mommy?"
The use of the moniker made Wanda drop the knife and then pick it up clumsily trying to keeping her composure "awe it's okay mommy I'll help you"
"Mommy doesn't need help" Wanda managed to say kissing you to hide her blush she felt creeping up "go on then princess, kill him, he's one of Agatha's little problems that needs to be solved"
Wanda nodded and moved closer to the man who started to wake up "what's-what's happening..."
"Agatha knows you're a snitch Bruce and wants you dead, my girl here plans on showing you just what happens to snitches, go on Scarlet"
"No! No come on man I haven't snitched on Agatha! She trusts me!" He tried pulling on his restraints but failed "you told Strucker about what Agatha was planning and now her plans have been sent back months-
"Fucking bitch!"
There was a hard punch stopping him talking from Wanda "don't you dare talk to you my girlfriend like that" her voice was quiet and scary making him swallow hard and twisting his face in surprise realising something "Wanda? That's the woman you've been stalking for months?! What the hell are you doing?"
Wanda's face drained of colour, she'd really hoped he didn't recognise her but that didn't work, looking back at you not realising you'd come closer and was standing behind her now "you know him honey?" You asked and Wanda shook her head "no, no I don't"
"Then do it, kill him" you kissed her shoulder letting your head rest there too "you know how to do it right? Just a stab through the carotid artery, the knife is sharp enough to do it, but you have to be confident, plus you'll be covered in blood and isn't that what you wanted?"
Wanda clenched her jaw and closed her eyes thinking, was she really going to kill an old partner of hers?
She opened her eyes taking the knife and stabbing deep in his neck, the blood splattering onto the knife, her hand and her arm, not as much blood as she wanted but enough
Bruce's gurgled noises and screams drowned out eventually and the man sat limp on the chair
"Well done princess, give me the knife" your hand found its way wrapped around the handle of the knife bringing it back to her and spinning Wanda around kissing her "are you okay?"
She smiled "absolutely" you went to speak again but Wanda stopped you taking back what little control she currently had "take your shirt off"
You stepped back "what?
Wanda wasted no time in stripping you of your shirt and going to cut your new bra off of you bit you stopped her annoying her "little girl I'm not going to be patient any longer, you've had your fun being in charge but its now time to get back to how we were, you doing exactly as I say-
You cut her off pulling at her collar "I'm not the bottom you think I am Scarlet"
You let go of the collar pushing her back a little "I was going to fuck you but you've ruined it, go and get cleaned up"
"Seriously?! Why are you acting like this?? I spent months and months chasing you, sending you poems and pictures and professing my love to you and we finally get together and your treating me like one of your victims!"
You were shocked into silence "what the fuck are you talking about? Why would I treat you like a victim? Don't ever say that to me again"
The woman continued "Oh hit a nerve did I?"
"Seem's we've gone past the honeymoon stage, shame it only lasted like a day" you were calm...too calm for anyone's liking, you picked up your shirt putting it back on without another word
Going to leave the room Wanda quickly followed you and you were both yet again seen by Nat who was intrigued by the conversation "trouble in paradise?"
"Fuck off Natalia" Wanda snapped and the other redhead sighed "so we're not having sex against a wall later? I was really looking forward to it and being covered in dirt from rolling around"
Her sarcastic voice was drowned out in the background as you both walked off back towards your apartment "why are we fighting?! Wanda shouted at you and you finally stopped turning back to her "I don't know Wanda, why are we fighting?"
She let out a sigh "okay look I'm sorry I said I felt like one of your victims why was it a big deal?"
"It doesn't matter, just-just leave me alone for a few hours please"
You stormed off leaving Wanda once again confused, stressed and sexually frustrated
"Well well Wanda, you've really messed that one up" Nat slid up to next to the stressed woman and watched you walk off, the silence engulfing them both for a little while, finally Nat spoke up first
"Her last relationship didn't end well"
She turned to Nat listening intently, she probably shouldn't be telling Wanda this but she carried on
"Long story short Miss Witch, she had to kill her because she was giving away information and we found out....she was heartbroken and when we had to do it she kept saying she was a victim of circumstance, Y/n couldn't do it, I had to do it, not that I minded she was a bitch anyway"
Wanda was shocked, is that why you sounded so annoyed when she accused you of calling her a victim?
Nat noticed her internal struggle "you called yourself a victim didn't you?"
She nodded and Nat smacked her on the back of the head "fucking idiot"
Wanda rubbed her head where she slapped and muttered things under her breath
"I didn't mean to insult or upset her-
Nat cut her off "don't apologise to me red"
"You're right, okay take me to the apartment"
Nat patted her on the back "yes second boss"
"I'm getting a sense of Déjà vu here" both women went back to the car getting in and just sat for a moment "do I get her flowers?"
Nat burst out laughing "flowers?! She's not a whiny teenage girl Wanda, just go and apologise eat her out for a few hours and she'll be fine"
"Now thats something I can do! Alright let's go"
#marvel#Marvel au#marvel imagine#marvel fic#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#a murderous game of cat and mouse#wanda maximov#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#dark!wanda maximoff#dark!reader
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Jijel the Troll
An annual musica festival, an unrequited crush, and the smell of wonderfully cooked food. It's all background to this wonderfuls tory featuring romance, a sweet troll, and some good food.
Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)
The Cryptstone Bridge Music Festival was one of your favorite times of the year. You and your band had been going for a while now and every year it just got better and better. This year, you hoped it would be the best yet, considering everything that had happened the previous year.
“It got cold early this year,” you bassist, Tawny said as you were setting up your camp area.
“It’s great right?” You were nearly bouncing in your boots. “It actually feels like spooky season.”
“You mean fall?” Emery, your guitarist, snickered. “Not everythings a meme.”
“It can be christmas season but not spooky season?” You huffed, carrying luggage over to the big tent. “Sounds like big christmas got to you.”
“Big christmas,” Tawny wheezed under her breath.
You looked out across the campground where the other bands and the vendors were setting up. You were looking for one specific food vendor who had saved your life during your first festival.
“Looking for your boyfriend?” Your lead singer, Devon, asked. They leaned over to match your gaze. “I’m sure he’s here.”
You pouted. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend who happens to be a guy, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Devon smirked knowingly and stood back up. “Well, if you do find him, I love his turkey wrap.” They took the luggage from your hands and strutted back towards the tent.
You wandered away from the camp, going towards the food vendor station. Several vans and trucks were lined up, and some were already serving. You then saw it, the big black camper attached to a small green truck. You rushed up to it, seeing the windows to the camper were open and there was already some outside waiting for food.
A big, long arm jutted out of the window, handing the waiting patron a brown bag. Your stomach did flip flops as you watched the arm. It went back into the camper and from within a big, bellowing voice called out; “next!”
You stepped up to the window. “Hi Jiji!”
The service window fully swung open and the troll inside peered out at you. “There you are,” he laughed. “I was wondering when you would show up.”
You smiled brightly. “I promised I would come and see you as soon as we got our stuff set up.”
Jiji leaned out the window, his long tusks and big nose greeted for first, but you could see the big smile on his face. “And how did that go?”
“Just fine.” Your heart was pounding wildly.
“Are you going to have another drum solo this year? Or do I need to skip your set,” he chuckled.
“Please don’t skip!” You pleaded. “I have a special song this year.”
Jiji chuckled. “I was always going to see it. I’ve become quite the fan of your troupe.”
You beamed again and came closer to him. You called him Jiji, but his full name was Jijel and he had saved your life a few years ago. Ever since then, you’d kept in touch with him and built a friendship. You also had a massive crush.
“Did you get your hair cut?” You asked. “It looks great.”
Jijel scoffed and ruffled his hands through his dark green hair. His thick brow pinched, showing the several piercings he had in them. “It’s alright. Nothings going to make me look good though.”
You snapped your fingers and pointed at him. “Hey, I told you not to talk like that to me. You're a big, badass troll, and nothing less is slander.”
Jijel chuckled, his smile returning to his face. “Tell that to my mirror.”
“Mirrors are bitches!” You turned as you heard people behind you. “I guess I better order so I don’t hold up a line. Uhm, one vegan wrap and three turkey.”
“You got it.” Jijel slipped back into the camper as you searched your pockets for your wallet. “When can we hang out?” You asked.
“Not sure,” Jijel said from inside. You could hear the grill sizzling and you could smell his delicious cooking, something you looked forward too almost as much as seeing him every year.
“You promised me we could this year,” you pouted.
“Don’t play cute with me,” he laughed. “I’m sure we can find some time. If not, you’re welcome to hang in here with me for a while.”
Your eyes brightened. “That could be fun! I’m not a good cook but I could do something to help you out.”
Jijel laughed. “I wouldn’t ask you to do anything except keep me company.” After some more sizzling and sniffing he handed out a paper bag to you.
“How much?”
“On the house,” Jijel looked back at you, his smile as big as ever. “For making my day.”
You shoved money into his tip jar. “I’ll see you later! Thank you!” You really didn’t want to leave, but a line was already forming behind you.
Back at the campsite, you handed out the food and the band took a moment to rest. You’d been going all day, and this was the first chance all of you had to just kick back and not worry about anything.
“Di you get these from that ugly troll guy again?” Emery asked.
Devon’s lip curled and they shot Emery a dirty look. “Hey! That’s her friend you’re talking about.”
“He’s not ugly,” you grumbled.
Emery gave an apologetic glance. “He’s a good cook at least.”
Devon shoved him. “If it weren’t for him we wouldn’t have a drummer. He saved her ass by making her drink water and resting in his camper.”
“I didn’t realize heat stroke was a real thing,” you grumbled under your breath.
Tawny snickered. “He’s a troll at a bridge, I just got that.”
Devon rolled their eyes. “Anyways, we need to go to bed early so we can get our shit together in the morning. There’s a fuck up every year and this year I want to get ahead of this years, whatever it is.”
After eating, you all clean up and get to bed in the tent. But since it’s a campsite filled to the brim with other musicians and the attendees, it was easier said than done. The campsite was loud with people yelling and hooting. One by one, each member of the band gave up and left the tent. Devon was the only one remaining when you got up and left, and you felt guilty for leaving them alone, but you knew sleeping now would be a fool’s errand.
You wandered back to the vendors’ area in hopes of seeing Jijel, maybe even hanging out with him a bit if he wasn’t busy. Some vendors were open, serving drinks mostly, so the area was crowded. Jijel’s camper was closed, but you could see lights inside.
You knocked on the door in the very back. “Hey, it’s me, are you busy?”
There was no sound from within.
Sighing, you knocked again. “Jiji, it’s only me!” You waited for a bit in hopes he would come out, but he gave no sign. You started walking away when the door opened. You turned, seeing his hand wave you over.
“I’m not bothering you, am I?” You asked as you approached. “I can’t sleep and thought we could chill for a little while.”
Jijel stepped out of the camper before you. “You’re really serious about that.”
You furrowed your brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He chuckled and was quiet as he looked at you. Your heart began pounding wildly again and you broke into a big smile. “So, is it okay?”
“Sure,” he nodded. “It’s cramped in there though.” He closed the doors then took out his keys to lock them. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
“Okay!” You happily took to his side, walking with him down the vendor ally until you came out into the field.
The campsite with all the partying was to your right, while the pathway to the Cryptstone Bridge was at your left. Jijel went left, heading towards the bridge.
“It’s pretty over here with all the lights.” You marveled at the display that the festival always put up on the bridge. Lots of lights that created a canopy, turning the bridge into a tunnel of lights that would do special shows during the concerts.
“It is.” Jijel kept his head down as they stepped onto the bridge. He was really quiet all of a sudden. The way you chatted through text you figured you would have a great conversation like always.
You came to a stop in the middle of the bridge. “Is something wrong?”
Jijel leaned back against the railing and sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You’re awful quiet though. If you’re tired you don’t have to hang out with me. You could have said so.”
Jijel grimaced and fidgeted with his hands, twisting a ring around his finger. “No. I’m not tired. I do want to spend time with you though, but-” His eyes flicked to a group of girls crossing the bridge and he kept his head down.
You frowned as you looked at him and you grabbed his hand to hold. You tugged him, making him look at you. “I like you!” You confessed.
“What?” His brow pinched.
“I like you-” Your voice cracked as you realized how silly that sounded. “As in feelings! Not like...high school and-” You were slowly starting to crumble. You’d held onto this crush for so long and now it was all falling out so ungracefully.
“You don’t have to say things to make me feel better,” Jijel chuckled.
“Don’t say that. And I mean it. I really, really like you.” You held his hand with both of yours. His hand was so big, it was something you always liked about him. “I think you’re amazing.”
Jijel sighed, as he gently took his hand away from you. He didn’t say anything, he averted his eyes and crossed his arms against his chest.
“The way we talk all the time, sometimes through the night and all day...I like that. You make me smile and laugh all the time. You make me happy. Where’s that guy?”
Jijel’s brow downturned, giving him a sad look. “It’s different when I’m around you.”
“How come?”
“Because you’re this...cute and pretty woman and I’m-” He went to wave his hand around his face but stopped and crossed his arms back.
Your cheeks burned. “You think I’m cute?”
Jijel bit his lip. “Of course I do.”
You placed your hand upon his arm. “I think you’re handsome.”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“I mean it! Don’t make me kiss you!”
Jijel froze and his expression went blank. You look the fall of his guard and raced forward, placing a kiss upon his lips. He pushed you away too soon, keeping his hands upon your shoulders. He looked at you, eyes wide and face darkened. You gazed back, lips pouted and cheeks pink.
Jijel’s hands shook upon your shoulders. You moved in again, wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging him down so you could kiss him again. You closed your eyes and his stubble rubbed against you, his lips stayed still for a moment and then he kissed back. His big hands wrapped around your waist and you excitedly pushed closer, feeling his big belly against yours.
“I like you too,” Jijel confessed. “I never thought you would...that you could feel the same way.”
“Get over yourself, you’re so much better than what you think. I told you, your mirror’s a bitch.” You hugged his neck tighter. “I’m willing to show you how much I like you. How deeply I feel-”
Jijel put a finger over your lips. “Hush up,” he snarled. “You’ll make my head explode.”
You smiled, kissing his fingertip then darting your tongue over it. Jijel ripped his hand back, glaring at you for doing such a thing.
“I want to,” you murmured. “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”
He gazed at you in disbelief but then he huffed and took your hand. “Not here for cripe’s sake.” He took you off the bridge and away from the lights.
There was a small path off the bridge that was a scenic walk. There were small lights dotting the pathway so you could see some. Jijel took you down this path until you came to a picnic area which was completely empty. Only one of the lamps there was working, so the ambience and the sound of the river was so romantic in your head.
“You can’t just say those things to me so boldly,” he huffed. “Give me a second.” He paced in front of the table you sat at for a while.
“Sorry, it's been building for so long I couldn’t stop it. Plus that kiss-” You touched your lips with a big grin upon your face. “It was so good.”
Jijel snarled something under his breath as he stopped. “What happened to that guy you were telling me about?”
You shrugged. “He didn’t wait for me to get inside my place, just drove off. So I ghosted him. He’d already shown one red flag. I wasn’t waiting around for a third.”
“Well...fine,” he huffed. “Okay but-”
“No buts, unless you want me to grope yours.” You held back your laughter but you snicker and snort.
“Hey!” He snapped. “Look Im not used to this, okay?”
You stood up from the picnic table and approached him. You placed your palms upon his chest. “Then sit down, let me help you relax.” You stroked your hands down to his big belly then took hold of the button at the top of his pants.
Jijel snatched your hand up. “You’re going to give me a stroke.”
“No. But stroking is involved,” you tease. “Big guy like you, I might have to use both hands,” you giggled.
“You’re serious,” he growled.
“I am,” you insisted. “And I want to show you how serious I am! I think you’re amazing, and I want to climb you like a monkey climbs trees!”
Jijel went silent. He gulped and dropped your hand. “What for?”
You unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. “Because I want to. No one makes me laugh as much as you do, and no one makes me feel all warm and fuzzy like you do either.” You grabbed him gently through his boxers. “All of that makes me want you.”
Jijel’s hands grasped your shoulders and he moaned into your ear. “You’re crazy.”
“For you maybe.” You stood on tiptoe to kiss him. You licked his lips and nuzzled your cheek to his tusks. “Fuck, you really are big.”
Jijel jerked from your touch and took a few steps back. “Wait a second. Wait...wait-” He panted. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Sit down,” you coaxed him. “I just want to make you feel very, very good.”
“How?” Jijel stumbled over to the picnic table, taking a seat on the tabletop while you knelt down upon the bench. Jijel put his hand over his belly, trying to hide it as his shirt rode up.
“Well, let me see what you’ve got.” You tugged down his pants and boxers and his thick cock flopped out before you. You took him into your hand where his pounding pulse and heat traveled through our fingertips and down to your belly. “You’re barely hard and you’re already this big.” You spit onto his tip and stroke him slowly.
Jijel winced and whined, throwing his head back. “This is crazy-”
“I know.” You lick your other palm and wra it around him. “I knew you’d be impressive, but you’re so fucking hot.”
“No, not that-” he whined.
You kissed the head of his cock, lapping your tongue around the glans until his tip was between your lips. You moaned at how good that felt, like a too big bite of your favorite meal.
Jijel shuddered, groaning in agony and pleasure above you. “Fucking hell,” he whined.
“Is it good? Can I keep going?” You asked.
“Y-yeah,” he trembled.
You smiled and continued your work, licking down his cock and kissing back up. “Jijel,” you moaned. “Oh fuck, Jijel.” You took his fat head into your mouth again, suckling as you tried to take as much of his thickness as possible. When your jaw began to ache you pulled back, strings of spit connecting the glans to your lips and tongue.
You looked up at him again. “You okay up there?”
“That’s enough, stop.” Jijel huffed. “I can’t take anymore.”
You smiled. “That’s the point. I want you to come.”
Jijel shook his head. “Not unless you do too.”
Your eyes widened in awe. Of all the things he could have said, he had to say the sexiest thing imaginable. You stood up on the bench and he placed his big hand around your hip so his fingers kneaded into your ass.
“You don’t have to face me if you want,” he murmured.
You shook your head. “I like looking at you.” You pulled up his shirt and placed your hands upon his bare skin. “I especially want to see you while you’re inside me.”
Jijel snarled and buried his face against your neck. “Stop saying shit like that!”
You laughed and hugged him tight. “I mean it though!”
Jijel’s shaky hands removed your pants, tugging them all the way down. His big fingers then slid between your thighs and he moaned at what he found. “You’re so fucking wet.”
“You did this to me,” you whimpered.
Jijel’s finger rubbed against your wet lips, prodding inside for a moment before he rubbed against your clit. You shivered, holding onto his arms for dear life. You moaned his name, panting it longingly.
“Please, lay down, I can’t wait anymore.”
Jijel swallowed and laid back upon the picnic table. You climbed up on top of him, taking hold of his cock in one hand while balancing against his belly with the other.
“Don’t force yourself-” he pleaded.
You guided his thick cock to your lips, opening up wide for him. You whimpered as you took him, easing down, down, down upon him as you stretched to take him.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Jijel groaned.
You took all of him and grinned in triumph. “You big beast,” you panted. “I’m so happy.”
Jijel reached up, touching your face and brushing your hair away. His big smile spoke volumes, as did the tears falling from his eyes. “Me too.”
You pressed your palms to his chest, riding him slowly at first. He was so big, you weren’t used to him yet. His hands roamed your body, stripping away the last of your clothes. When he found your nipples were pieced he sat up to kiss them and suck them. You whimpered loudly as it was your weak point. Jijel took advantage, biting and suckling upon them until your whole body tremored. You cried out loud and held tight to him, shaking violently to the pleasurable eruption happening inside.
Jijel moaned into your ear. “Did you enjoy that?”
You whimpered, nodding as Jijel placed you in his lap. His warm belly pressed against you and he bounced his hips upwards. Each new thrust made you tremble, and you hugged onto him tightly.
Jijel kept moving his hips, thrusting them so he went upwards inside you. His moans turned to bellows and soon, he erupted like you did. You whimpered against his chest, trembling again with another orgasm. The two of you sat still with labored breath, listening to the sounds of the campsite muffled in the distance.
“I’ve wanted this too,” he whispered into your hair. “Ever since I first met you, I thought I would be so lucky to have a girl even remotely like you. Despite my feelings I never hoped you would-”
You kissed him to silence him. “I’m the lucky one here. No one has ever made me feel this way, let alone give me an orgasm to brag about.”
Jijel ducked his head down. “You keep saying shit like that.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed dreamily. “Can I at least say I have the best boyfriend in the world?”
“Not sure about that but…” Jijel held you tightly in his arms. “I certainly have the best girlfriend there ever was.”
You kissed him lovingly and gazed into his eyes. “Good, because I plan to be.”
#exophilia#monster boyfriend#troll#troll boyfriend#monster romance#monster x human#monster x reader#monster fudger#momolady monsters#my writng
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Hii, could you write how the moonboys would react to a reader having an ED? I've been having a really hard time recently. If you're uncomfortable then I totally understand <33
Dear anon: I'm sorry I don't know what to say to you, so I hope the headcanon help a little. Lots of hugs <3
Marc Spector:
He's used to take mental notes of everthing, and of course some small issues about you cannot passed unseen. Yet, he's not sure how to ask you gently if you're okay, he doesn't want to feel like a nosy.
But obviously you'r not as fine as you should, and he must take the lead. "(Y/N), did you eat this morning?"
Oh you'd wish to simply nod and pass the topic, but those piercing eyes won't let you go until he's completely sure you're sincere.
Maybe you try to act defensive, but Marc knows how to deal with that.
You end up feeling embarrased 'cause he found out. "Look, I know I'm less than perfect -" "Don't say that" "But it's true!" "I don't want you to be perfect, I want you to be happy and safe"
Perhaps Marc isn't the best caretaker, but you can be sure he'll do his best, being around you and helping you to get a healthy food habit.
Jake Lockley:
We can think of him as a "street sibarite", enjoying everything around simple, slightly dangerous life. And since his hobbies are music and food, he's always up to take you to eat street food or to any other nice, not well-known place.
That was when he noticed you struggled with eating. "Don't you like it, corazón?" "Oh, no, it's delicious! I just... hmm... ate earlier and I'm still a little full"
Yes, he can pass it once, maybe twice, but the third time you show symptoms of your ED he's direct: "You're sick, aren't you? I mean... with that" (pointing at your barely touched dish)
Won't try to attack the problem directly, but does his best to make you happy in different manners. He can be very romantic and intense in his love languages, and it includes, of course, food.
Though they're not his favorites, he cooks or buys healthy meals for you, and sits to eat along with you to be sure you actually eat. And everytime you manage to make your three meals, he rewards you with something you like. Yes, it's not the best idea, but Jake loves making you feel good and happy.
Steven Grant:
Sweet boi never misses details. He quickly finds out something's not very well with you, but since he can't tell exactly where the problem is, he rather uses subtle approaching.
Like, you go on a date and he invites you for a lunch. Now, since he's a vegan he doesn't eat too many junk food, and asks you about your favorites to "compensate" for going with him to his places. "No I don't eat that" "Really? Oh well, I was thinking of caramel apples but that's okay-"
He can be very open about his own issues (like the sleeping problems and stuff) now he has more confidence around you. Also, this is a good techique to allow you to speak anytime you need to.
But if you still are quiet about the elephant in the room, he'll do his best to bring it on. "Uh, love, I don't want to sound like a creep or somethin' but... I have noticed you don't look comfy when we eat, is it the food choice or...?"
He'll hold your hand and listen to you. He'll be very kind and protective and won't say anything against you. "Hey, it's fine, it's not your fault... If you want to, I'm here and I'll help you. I mean, I'm not the best for that but... we can get some help for you, and I'll be there for you too"
Actually keeps his promise and search for a good therapist. He goes with you, and is very discrete with the topic, even putting himself in the eye of the hurricane (like saying it's you who takes him to therapy).
Sometimes you may feel you're going backwards, a very common thing while dealing with certain issues. You feel bad for Steven 'cause he's been supporting you and don't want to make him dissapointed. He's not. He never will. He'll be there in your ups and downs, and he'll always tell how proud is for you. "Accepting it is the hardest thing, love, and you did it very well"
#moon knight series#moon knight headcanon#moon boys#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley headcanon#steven grant headcanon#marc spector headcanon#tw: eating problems#oscar isaac#marvel series
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Hey! Guess what today is! Why, it's only... the (third) biggest event of the Naranja-Uva school year!
✨It's Homecoming!✨
I know all y'all are hella hyped, but remember to take breaks, too! We have 🌊HYDRATION STATIONS🌊 all over the place for you thirsty folks! And the nurse's office is always yours to chill in if your head starts spinning like a Spinda's! Finally... if you want to get those internet points for your HoCo escapades, be sure to tag them with #Naranja Uva Homecoming ! We'll be on the lookout!
Now, without further ado... our SCHEDULE OF EVENTS! (All times in EST. Attend as many or as little as you dare!)
9:00 AM: Instead of classes, come to the Schoolyard for some bagel sandwich breakfast! Or just the bagels and jam. We don't judge.
10:30 AM: Bring out your artistic side! Come sign our Naranja-Uva 2023-2024 banner, and even get some swag in return! Rush-printed due to high demand…
12:00 PM: Open Multi Battles in the Schoolyard! You want one, we'll match you with just the right person to even the playing field and have fun! Run by Ms. Dendra.
1:30 PM: Open the Naranja-Uva Club Fair! Wander the school and collect stamps from clubs for a chance to win BIG! What could you win? It's so big we can't even say! (NOTE: Make Your Own Pizza lunch served in the cafeteria. Vegan cheese included.)
3:00 PM: Campus Open Mic! You want a platform to say something? Say it here! Whether that's how fluffy your Snubbull is, how terrible the flight back from Kitakami was, or… genuine advice about the school Director Clavell can take notes on…?! (We reserve rights to pull you from the stage if you're ruining the mood by being rude.)
4:30 PM: Get hyped, because the big event's only in an hour and a half! Join your teachers (and Clive) as they get schooled on the hip new dances of this decade! (Held in front of the academy.)
6:00 PM: Doors open to Homecoming! Pull up with your #HoCoSquad, get some pics snapped by the doormen, and enjoy the vibes curated by our very own D.J. Vice! There will be plenty of pastries, Kitakami-style sweets and savories courtesy of the exchange program, and tamper-proof juice pouches! Not looking to dance? We've got games too! Be sure to check out our selection of Uno(wn), Applins to Applins, and a riveting three hour game of Monopoliwag… a brand new 2P cabinet of Pokémon Showdown… and a ball pit! The fun never ends!
7:30 PM: The show gets doubly underway, with the crowning of the Homecoming Court! And get ready for the Battle of the Schools! We'll be testing you on your smoothest moves, loudest cheers, and biggest stomachs, all to answer the question of Naranja vs. Uva once and for… the rest of the night!
9:00 PM: Take a break from the gym to peep the #selfie worthy fireworks outside, courtesy of Zakuyamo! Reminders will be given 15 and 30 minutes before for anybody to put away noise-sensitive Pokémon and head to soundproof safe booths. We'll livestream the action too, for anybody who's dying to see!
10:00 PM: Just because the dance floor's closed doesn't mean the party has to stop! Choose between Mr. Jacq's Pokémon Trivia Night, Miss Dendra's Super Smash Your Foes!!!! Tournament, and Mr. Saguaro's Gourmet Tastings for a few late-night options before you hit the hay on this wonderful day!
**NOTE: The pool is off-limits today. We aren't even touching that can of worms with a bunch of rowdy students. Don't make Goldy the Lifeguard Golduck sad.
#pkmn irl#pokeblogging#naranja uva homecoming#event schedule#//time is flexible on these btw! clive will just be posting at these times. feel free to join in on whatever whenever!
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Sam Kiszka Sees God While Eating Spicy Wings | A Hot Ones Parody
Words: 7.9k
Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of incontinence, just overall nastiness, milk
Synopsis: Sam Kiszka goes on Hot Ones and experiences an exceptionally devastating fall from grace
Notes: thank you @jmkho for reminding me how awful it is to rub your eyes after touching something spicy!!
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“Hey, what’s going on everybody!” Sean Evans smiled wide at the camera. “From First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings.”
Across the table, Sam was sitting with his hands folded in his lap, patiently waiting for his introduction.
“Today I’m joined by Sam Kiszka of the rock group, Greta Van Fleet, who is releasing their third studio album, Starcatcher, on July 21st.” Sean turned from the camera to acknowledge Sam. “It’s great to meet you, Sam.”
“Likewise, Sean,” Sam called back. With a grunt, he leaned over the table to extend a hand to Sean to shake. Sean seemed thrown off by the gesture, but scooted forward in his stool to grab Sam’s hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m starving, I could really go for some wings right now,” Sam joked.
“How do you handle hot things?” Sean leaned back in his chair and studied Sam, as if sizing him up. From the look on his face, it seemed like Sean was skeptical that Sam’s thin stature would be able to handle the scorching heat of the hot sauces that were coming his way.
“I’m all for it,” Sam waved Sean off. “I’m into this kind of shit, permanently damaging my taste buds and destroying my stomach for days on end. This is what I do to feel alive.”
“I feel like you’re being sarcastic.”
“A little bit,” Sam chuckled. “But I do like a bit of spice to my meals. I’m the guy in my family who needs to put a little Tabasco on everything.”
“Some of these are gonna be a step up from Tabasco,” Sean warned him. “Are you ready to go?”
“Just about,” Sam replied. He gently pushed the full glass of milk in front of him onto Sean’s side of the table and then hoisted a 24 pack of Corona Lite in front of him. Sean watched with interest as Sam tore into the cardboard casing and retrieved a bottle, pulling off the top with his teeth. “Want one?” Sam asked.
“Sure?” Sean guessed. Sam started to open a second bottle with his teeth, but someone from the crew quickly forced a bottle opener into his hand before he could.
“Oh, thanks?” Sam asked, looking around to see who had given him the instrument. He didn’t understand the point of bottle openers when teeth literally exist but, because he was on film, he popped off the cap like a normal person and slid the drink to Sean.
“Do you find that beer takes the edge off of the spiciness?” Sean asked. Sam shrugged back at him.
“I just wanted an excuse to crack into that 24 pack,” Sam replied after shoving a lime into his drink and taking a thoughtful gulp. “So, what’s the first level?”
1. The Classic - Chili Maple (Hot Ones Hot Sauce) - 1,600 Scoville Heat Units
“We’ve got The Classic Chili Maple sauce coming in at 16,000 Scoville Heat Units,” Sean shared. Sam stared down at the vegan wing in front of him and gave it a testing poke.
“Say,” Sam had to ask, “has anyone ever tapped out after one wing? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely gonna make it to ten, I just want to know what I’m up against here.”
“We’ve had a few guests definitely not finish the interview,” Sean replied with a grin. “DJ Khaled and Ricky Gervais had a pretty rough time. Not as bad as Bobby Lee though.”
A few of the crew members groaned behind the cameras, which made Sam perk up.
“What happened to Bobby?” he leaned forward to conspire with Sean.
“Let’s just say his body rejected the wings pretty harshly,” Sean slowly thought out his words. “From the back end.”
“Fuck,” Sam choked out and then took another sip from his bottle. “Well god, I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen to me.”
“For the sake of me and the crew, I hope so too,” Sean said. Then, he held up his wing and Sam followed suit.
“Cheers,” Sam said with a cheeky smile, raising his wing up to Sean. They both took a hearty bite and immediately Sam groaned outwards. “This is the shit,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s so sweet and tangy.”
Sean watched as Sam proceeded to devour the rest of the wing, to the point where the sauce formed a ring around his mouth and covered all of his fingers.
“Do you want a napkin?” Sean let out a laugh. Sam waved away a crew member that was trying to hand him a paper napkin.
“Nah ah,” he said, food still in his mouth. “I’m saving all of this for later.”
“Okay, Sam,” Sean tried to regain Sam’s attention, “I do have some questions.”
“Fire away,” Sam motioned for him to go with one hand while he licked the other.
“So, legend has it, your older twin brothers, Jake and Josh, would drag you down to the basement when you were in grade school to play with them. At what point did you realize that music was something you wanted to do, and not just something your brothers were forcing you to do?”
“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna ask me about Frankenmuth,” Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Every single interview, I swear, we have to talk about living in a small Bavarian town in Michigan with the world’s largest Christmas store.”
“I’ll take that question off my list,” Sean joked, pretending to scribble something out on a paper next to him. “No, I promise you’ll get some questions you haven’t heard before.”
“Hot wings and new questions, now we’re talking!”
Sam continued to lick at his fingers, but then shot back upright when he remembered that he hadn’t answered the question.
“Oh, uh, being the youngest sibling has its trials and tribulations. I feel like I was fortunate that Jake and Josh paved the way for me, in a sense, setting expectations and showing me the right and wrong things to do. I’ve always admired them.” Sam stopped and whispered to Sean, “Actually, cut that out, I don’t want them knowing that, it’ll feed into their already massive egos.”
“Cut that part out,” Sean turned to call at the producer.
“My parents raised my siblings and I in a musical house: my dad plays blues with some local guys, my grandpa is in the Polka Hall of Fame, so I feel like I have these musical genes coursing through my veins. Jake was the first one to really take music seriously and, of course, anything he does, Josh will follow suit since the two are practically inseparable. Sure, when I was younger there were other things that I wanted to do than practice for eight hours straight in the basement, but it is something I pretty quickly grew to love. I enjoy building things, and creating music is a fascinating experiment, trying to connect with people sonically. I think from a young age I recognized the value of human connection and wanted to keep pursuing that.”
“So, going back to the musical genes, it’s almost like you were meant to do this,” Sean clarified with Sam.
“God, that makes me sound conceited, doesn’t it?” Sam scrunched up his face at the thought.
“Not necessarily,” Sean tried to assure him. “It just means that you’re on the track that feels right to you, which is something I’d hope everyone can accomplish.”
“That’s a good way to look at it,” Sam nodded. He thoughtfully licked the remaining sauce off his fingers.
“You look ready for another wing,” Sean observed.
“Hell fucking yeah I am,” Sam said.
2. Banjee Ranch - Shaquanda’s - 6,200 Scoville Heat Units
“This one looks good,” Sam commented while he took in the mustard-colored sauce. “I can see the herbs in there, I already know the flavor is going to explode in my mouth.”
Sam dug in and, once more, looked like he was experiencing heaven. Sean cut in before Sam started moaning again.
“Last year you were featured on a song with Stealing Oceans and Scott Avett called ‘Stars on the Ceiling.’ On this track you bust out a pretty impressive guitar solo, which I heard you came up with on the spot. How did your brother, Jake, feel about that?”
“He didn’t believe me when I first showed him the song and told him I was the guitar,” Sam chuckled. “He called me a shithead.”
“Was he a little threatened?” Sean guessed.
“He knows he’s better than me, he’s got nothing to worry about,” Sam shook his head. “He did have a few pointers for me afterwards about different tones and effects I could have used to make the track sound more complex, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. At the end of the day it’s just a fun, jazzy, funky love song, which I think the world could use more of.”
“How do you feel about dipping your toes in other genres?” Sean asked after enjoying another bite of his own wing. “Jazz and funk stray pretty far from Greta Van Fleet’s sound.”
“I’m all for it,” Sam couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I mean, even within Greta Van
Fleet, sure, we’re a rock band at our core, but if you compare our sound from our first EP to now, there’s a massive difference. Yes, we aren’t producing a hip hop album or country or something like that, but we really enjoy experimenting with sound and blending genres to create something innovative and attention-grabbing.”
Sam seemed content with his reply since, when met with a second of silence, he finished off the rest of his wing and, to Sean’s dismay, let out a long, deep groan. As if that wasn’t out of pocket enough, Sam wiped the last part of his wing around his mouth, gathering the sauce from the first round to enjoy. By the time he was done, his face resembled that of a toddler after an especially messy meal.
“This is a walk in the park,” Sam told Sean. “I’m having an absolute blast.”
“You’re doing great so far,” Sean extended a compliment where it was due. “You’ve still got a ways to go though, don’t get too cocky.”
“You sound like my bandmate, Danny,” Sam chuckled.
3. Cadejo - Donis - 15,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Are you ready for a step up on the heat scale?” Sean asked as a crew member placed a new wing in front of Sam. Sam grabbed the hot sauce bottle from the line in front of him and inspected it.
“Habanero? Now we’re talking.”
Sean gaped while Sam dumped a hearty pile of the sauce on his plate and then, with his sticky fingers, rolled his wing in it so it covered the entire surface, not missing a single spot.
“You don’t have to do that,” Sean tried to talk Sam down, but his competitiveness had entirely taken over.
“I think I do, Sean,” Sam looked up at the host with a surprising amount of intensity. Sean had to take a split second to ponder if he had made a massive mistake letting Sam on his show, but he cleared his throat and returned to his list of questions while Sam practically inhaled his sauce-drenched wing, entirely unaffected by the heat.
“So, Justin Bieber,” Sean started.
“Oh boy,” Sam let out a loud laugh. “Justin Fucking Bieber. Has he ever been on this show?”
“Nope.”
“Damn, I was gonna ask how well he did.”
“We’ll get him on here and you can come back and have a wing-off.”
“You think I’m joking, but I’ll be there,” Sam stared Sean down. “We have a lot of unfinished business.”
“Speaking of which,” Sean cut in, “you claim that he stole your birkenstocks at Coachella back in 2018.”
“He did,” Sam looked directly into the camera to confirm.
“It’s been five years and I’m assuming he hasn’t given them back to you?”
“Not even a sorry note,” Sam frowned.
“What would it take for Justin Bieber to earn your forgiveness?”
Sam leaned back and let out a deep exhale, looking lost in thought. The camera slowly zoomed in on his face, tracking his eyes that seemed to be searching every part of the ceiling.
“This is a hard question,” Sam admitted. “My mom always encouraged forgiveness. She said that resentment was more of a punishment for the person feeling that emotion than the one it was directed towards. The problem is, I really liked those birks. I mean, they were my first pair: we’d been through a lot. So, I guess the rational answer is I would forgive him if he gave them back to me and they were in the same condition as when he took them. I’m sure he has some nice cars too, though. If he let me take one of those I would probably forgive him.”
“Are you a big car guy?” Sean asked.
“I am,” Sam nodded. “I mean, I have one car that I drive around, I don’t need to be that guy that owns 17 cars and only drives one or two of them a handful of times a year. But I think if Justin offered me a lamborghini or a ferrari, I would probably take it.”
“You and me both,” Sean laughed.
“I’d drive it to the grocery store, just doing mundane errands, going 25 mph like a law-abiding citizen. It would drive all the car enthusiasts out there insane.”
“I respect safe driving,” Sean nodded.
“Safe driving is cool driving,” Sam agreed.
“Do you like any Justin Bieber songs?” Sean slipped in another question.
Sam looked on the brink of snorting, but stopped himself short so he wouldn’t offend anyone.
“His music is, uh, not quite for me,” Sam tried to be as civil as possible without expressing his intense disdain for pop music. “I respect what he does and I will admit that he’s a talented musician, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to any of his albums.”
“Fair enough,” Sean shrugged.
“I feel like I’m in the hot seat,” Sam joked. “I’ll go home and find that people on Twitter canceled me for having bad taste or something.”
“I think you’ll be okay,” Sean reassured him.
4. Los Calientes - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - 36,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Another Hot Ones sauce!” Sam exclaimed when he saw the next bottle. “You guys do a great job with branding, this is such a niche market.”
“We were lucky the idea blew up,” Sean smiled. “You’ll find that this one has a lot of flavor packed in with a punchy blend of sweet, tart, and spicy. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” Sam grinned. He poured the sauce onto his wing and then shook a drop out onto his tongue. “Oh hell yeah,” he said, not breaking a single sweat.
“We have a segment on this show called ‘Explain That Gram,’” Sean shared with Sam. Sam’s face contorted into a look of worry. “We look at your Instagram and you explain some of the photos that need a little extra context. First off, you look really concerned, why?”
“I don’t remember what I have posted on there,” Sam admitted.
“Nothing too incriminating, don’t worry,” Sean told Sam as he grabbed a laptop from one of the crew members and pulled up the first image. “Your Instagram is highly stylized, it looks like you put a lot of thought into it: where did the 3 thematic posts idea come from?”
“I started doing that a few years back,” Sam tried to remember, “I’m pretty sure my now ex-girlfriend introduced me to the idea that you need to maximize the formatting of Instagram to make a page that deviates from the norm while looking pleasing to the eye. I’m not a huge social media fan, but there is something really satisfying about using that three column setup to create a string of posts that, as you scroll through them, almost look like they’re happening in chapters. It just feels more put together, I guess.”
“It was nice to look through, I agree with you there,” Sean said. “I’ll need to take some notes.”
“Hey, there you go, Sean,” Sam beamed.
“Let’s look at this photo first,” Sean said, turning the laptop in Sam’s direction.
Sam leaned forward and squinted at the photo of his homemade pickles.
“Mmm,” Sam licked his lips. “That was a good batch.”
“Pandemic hobby? Sean raised an eyebrow.
“You got it,” Sam nodded. “Being stuck inside for that amount of time was like an out of body experience. After a week, I don’t know if this happened to you too, but I started to feel like I was in The Yellow Wallpaper or something. So I tried to dodge that feeling with homemade pickles. There was an article in a magazine I get monthly and I figured, eh what the hell? It didn’t take that many ingredients, I like pickles, the science behind food fascinates me, it all felt right.”
“Do I see some chilis and garlic in there?” Sean asked as he studied the photo closer.
“I put a bunch of shit in there,” Sam laughed. “I love experimenting with things. You know, it’s really stunning how many flavors a cucumber can absorb when it’s in brine. It’s like the sponge of the food world.”
“I’ve never heard someone speak so fondly about pickles,” Sean mused.
“I appreciate the little things in life,” Sam said. He took another sip of his beer, finishing it off, and nearly choked on the lime that had popped back out of the bottle and into his mouth. Sean lurched up like he was ready to give Sam the heimlich, but Sam spit the remains of the lime out onto the table before he could. Sam coughed. “Whooo lord, that was a close one.”
“Are you good to keep going?” Sean looked concerned.
“Absolutely,” Sam brightened up. “You got another Instagram photo?”
Sean still seemed a bit worried, but he opened the next photo.
“Oh man,” Sam snorted, “I should have seen that one coming.”
“There’s a lot to explain here,” Sean agreed.
Sam looked closer at the old photo of him with “Fuck” written on his forehead while he stood in front of an impressive fire.
“I really don’t know if there is even any context to go with this.”
“I appreciate that you tagged the Frankenmuth Fire Department as the location.”
“Oh yeah, we definitely weren’t burning shit at the fire department,” Sam declared, but then widened his eyes and turned away from the camera.
“I’ve got one last post that I want to highlight and then we can move onto the next sauce. There’s a short video of you and your bandmate, Daniel Wagner, out in what looks like the desert, wrestling with a snake?”
“Okay, this is actually a funny story,” Sam clapped his hands together. “Basically we were doing the whole tour bus thing on one of our earlier North America tours and we were trying to hit as many national parks as we could. Daniel went into this gift shop at the Grand Canyon and secretly bought this fake snake because, you know, he thought it would be hilarious to prank my brothers and I. While we were at Monument Park, which is on the border of Arizona and Utah and absolutely stunning, Danny pulled this big old rubber snake out of nowhere and started to fight with it.”
“You booked it in that video.”
It was a really realistic looking snake,” Sam exclaimed. “I like to keep my distance from things that slither.” Sam started to mess around with his wing but snapped his head back up to look at Sean. “There’s a reason why there’s no audio in that video,” Sam added. “I was swearing like a sailor. There were a bunch of kids nearby too, I don’t know how we didn’t get thrown out of the park.”
“You’re just living the rocker lifestyle,” Sean kidded, which earned a hearty laugh from Sam. “Thanks for your insights, I’m sure quite a few peoples’ burning questions have been resolved after that segment, ‘Explain the Gram.’”
“Happy to help,” Sam continued to laugh.
5. Ghost Pepper Hot Sauce - Brooklyn Delhi - 39,000 Scoville Heat Units
“We’re in the spicier terrain now,” Sean shared.
“Ah yes,” Sam bounced in his seat. “This is the place I like to call home.”
“Coming in at 39,000 Scoville heat units, this one relies on the punch delivered from India’s famed ghost pepper, bhut jolokia, which provides a long-lasting heat.”
“I love it,” Sam rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. “It’s been a while since I had a ghost pepper. I used to pop those puppies all the time just to feel something.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest quite like you on this show,” Sean admitted.
“I love expanding my palate,” Sam shared. “And knowing my boundaries when it comes to spicy food. Right now I’m pretty sure that boundary doesn’t exist.”
“Considering you’ve been chugging Coronas like they’re water and I haven’t seen a single tear form in your eyes, you might be right.”
“I’m just built different. I also used to eat fire ants as a kid, that might be helping me out too.”
“Did you really?” Sean looked beyond disturbed.
“No,” Sam laughed at how gullible the host was. “Fire ants are native to the southern states, they haven’t made the great migration quite that far up north yet.”
“You could have had me fully convinced,” Sean shared.
“I’m not gonna crack at all while eating this,” Sam promised as he pointed down to his wing. Sean held off on biting into his wing so he could concentrate on Sam’s facial expression as he pulled a large chunk of fake meat off and chewed it around. His face remained as stoic as a marble statue.
“No emotion at all.”
The camera pulled closer to Sam to show that his face was blank, not a single expression creeping out. He gulped the food down and let out a large burp.
“The seal of approval!” he pumped his fist.
“Now, Sam,” Sean said after finishing his wing, “You’ve said before that one of your favorite hobbies is finding vintage clothing.”
“Yup,” Sam nodded, “I love that shit.”
“Your outfits for your Dreams in Gold tour, which just wrapped up recently, were some of the most detailed pieces I’ve ever seen. How do you and your team come up with the vision for your stage outfits, and what is the intersection going on there between clothing and your music?”
“Greta Van Fleet is a band that loves symbols,” Sam replied. “Take one look at our album, The Battle At Garden’s Gate, and I think you’ll get it.”
While he talked, Sam made a show of pulling his shoes off under the table with his feet and wiggling out of his socks. Sean made a face at the stench that was coming from beneath the rounded table but then tried to maintain a poker face while he listened to Sam’s response.
“For this tour, we all agreed that every aspect of our show needed to contribute to a larger message. My brothers and I are all avid fans of film and, after watching enough movies, you start to realize how each costume is built with purpose. Pair that philosophy with my love for clothes and how they serve as a means of personal expression, and I became the largest supporter of teaming with a talented costume designer to prepare our outfits for the tour. Before our Strange Horizons tour we were wearing shit from thrift stores. I mean, it was fun to hunt around the day of a show for something to wear on stage that night, but nothing looked coherent. With our Dreams In Gold tour, we really took the first big step to define who we are as a band, and what we’re trying to achieve with our music. Jake and I have a lot of swords on our pieces, made by the ever exceptional Amber Doyle. We threw a lot of ideas at her, and she did a great job compressing them all into coherent designs.”
“That sleeve you’ve got on your left arm is something else.”
“Thanks, yeah, I started using that sleeve design during our Strange Horizons tour. I was really interested in the designs of webbing and wings and just the overall movement that they can bring to a stationary piece. Amber really liked the design when we came to her, and she promised she would keep that look consistent for my new pieces.”
“Does the wing ever get in the way of your playing?”
“Amber’s a genius,” Sam grinned, “She managed to design it in a way where I hardly noticed it was there. That is, unless I wanted to show it off.”
“Are you and your bandmates back at the drawing board now, planning your new designs for your upcoming tour, Starcatcher?”
“I can’t reveal too much,” Sam wagged a finger at Sean. “That was a good try. But I can share that we’re branching out in a new direction. These costumes have become an integral part of our show, and they aren’t going away any time soon. The challenging part is finding that sweet spot where we can wear things that look visually stunning and nuanced while maintaining some level of comfort so we can perform to our best ability. We’re testing the limits now, and I’m excited to see what the reception is to our new pieces. It should be good.”
“I wish I could have snuck an answer out of you on that last one,” Sean slapped his hand down on the table in joking frustration.
“You won’t have to wait too long for an answer,” Sam tried to comfort him. “Our tour starts in July, so you only need to wait a few more months. I am really looking forward to seeing how fans will dress at our shows for this tour,” Sam thoughtfully added. “They take this fashion thing as seriously as I do - you should see some of the outfits, these fans look like they should be up on stage with us. They’ll make replicas of our stage outfits with their own hands. It’s something else.”
“You’ve got an artistic vision that people can get behind,” Sean commended Sam.
“It’s an exciting thing,” Sam nodded back with a twinkle in his eye.
6. Mushroom Mayhem - Torchbearer Sauces - 68,000 Scoville Heat Units
“You’re vegan, right?” Sean asked Sam.
“Yes sir,” Sam nodded.
“I think you’ll appreciate this next sauce. It’s got a blend of mushrooms to provide a hint of umami, which contributes to an overall meaty flavor. But this sauce is about as vegan as they come.”
Sam licked his lips.
“Yummy yummy in my tummy.” He stopped for a second and reflected on what had just come out of his mouth. “Sorry,” his face turned scarlet, “that was weird.”
“It was like you regressed for a second there,” Sean commented. “We’re past the halfway mark now, this is where things start to get a bit intense.”
“Finally,” Sam remarked. He took a hefty bite and then chased it down with his second bottle of Corona. “Okay,” he said after clearing his throat, “that one did have a bit of a punch.”
“The cracks are starting to show,” Sean teased him, which Sam responded to by rapidly shaking his head.
“Nah ah,” Sam protested. “I took that one like a champ.”
To prove himself to Sean, Sam took the bottle and, once more, shook some of the sauce onto his tongue. Sean watched him with his mouth slightly ajar as Sam swallowed it down and patted his stomach.
“Delicious.”
“You can take that home,” Sean motioned towards the bottle. “We let all of our guests take whichever hot sauces they like best, but man, at this point I think you need to just take all of the bottles.”
“Oh good, I’m glad I don’t have to sneak these out under your nose,” Sam nodded. Sean pretended like he didn’t hear that comment and returned back to his questions.
“You and your band released a series of short Masterclass parodies back in 2021. I have to know, what inspired the character, Cal A Bungah?”
“I’m so glad I can finally address this,” Sam sounded genuine. “Cal A Bungah was the character that started it all: I had all the guys over and we were in the kitchen, making some appetizers and I just pulled this cocky chef character out of my ass like it was nothing. There’s an inside joke among my friends and family that I can’t cook for shit which, I don’t know about that, but I decided to roll with it. So was talking this big game about being a celebrity chef and knowing everything and how meat eaters like Gordon Ramsey are going to rot in hell, and Josh was like, ‘dude, we should make a video about this.’”
“How much of that video was improv?” Sean asked.
“All of it,” Sam grinned. “They put me in that goofy chef outfit, said ‘rolling’ and I just went to town.”
“I have a few rapid fire questions for Cal, if he’d be willing to answer,” Sean looked Sam down. Sam beamed at the idea and let out a loud laugh when one of the crew members passed him a chef hat. Sam pulled it on over his long, brown locks, and gave Sean a dorky smile.
“How do I look?”
“Professional,” Sean replied. “Now, Cal, do your skills extend any farther than cutting veggies and making a margarita?”
“I can’t believe you would ask someone with this much skill and prowess such a demeaning question,” Sam balked. “Pass.”
Sean let out a short laugh and returned to his list.
“What’s the problem with squash?”
“There’s no problem with squash,” Sam said as he folded his hands in front of him. “That reaction I had on film was a raw response to something larger than life. When I saw that squash, you know, actually held it in my hands, I felt like I was holding a part of God. I think you’d be rendered speechless too if you went through the same thing.”
“Fair enough. What makes the perfect margarita?”
“I’ll show you,” Sam answered. Sean called out in shock as Sam leaned under the table and grabbed a lime, some tequila, triple sec orange liqueur, ice, salt, and a cocktail shaker.
“You were keeping all of that under there?” Sean sounded stunned as he looked under the table to see if Sam was hiding any other secrets.
“Dave Grohl got to bring drinks on here, why can’t I?”
Sam twisted the lid off of the tequila and dumped a generous amount into the shaker before taking a swig of the booze straight from the bottle.
“Just have to make sure it’s not poisoned,” Sam explained himself. “The key to a perfect margarita is measuring with your heart. I don’t know what one fluid ounce looks like and, at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. So you just kinda eyeball it and, when it looks like enough, you stop.”
“A true master of your craft,” Sean had to quip.
“Add a splash of triple sec,” Sam continued, and then squeeze some lime juice in there for good measure. Then you shake the shit out of it.”
Sam stood from his seat after securing the lid over the cocktail shaker and made a show of moving around the set, shaking the drink like he was a part of the rhythm section for a fast-tempo song. When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a highball glass from seemingly nowhere and placed it over Sean’s head, in front of him. Sean gazed up in awe as Sam let the stream of margarita flow from the shaker down into his glass.
“Rub some lime and salt around the rim and then give it a sip,” Sam coached Sean. “And you better tell me that you just had the best goddamn margarita of your life.”
Sean followed Sam’s commands and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a cautious sip. He smacked his lips a few times, let out a small choke, and failed to hide a grimace.
“It’s great, right?” Sam asked over his shoulder while he fixed himself his own drink.
“It’s, something?” Sean failed to find the right words. Sam didn’t seem to notice how much pain he was putting Sean through since he happily took a gulp from his own cup and then settled back in his seat. “This is fun, I’m having fun,” Sam decided. Sean squirmed around in his seat.
7. Dreams of Calypso - Angry Goat Pepper Co - 101,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Oh, this sauce is gonna go well with my drink,” Sam called out in glee as he observed the next bottle. “Tropical fruit and a fucking hot pepper? Now we’re talking!”
“Is your stomach made of metal or something?” Sean asked after quickly passing his barely touched margarita off to a crew member to dump down the sink.
“It’s all about your state of mind,” Sam explained. “If you tell yourself you’re going to feel pain, you’re going to feel pain. But if you tell yourself that you’ve had worse, you’re going to be fine. The brain is a powerful organ, it can make or break you.”
“Let’s see that philosophy in action,” Sean encouraged Sam as he motioned down to the wing. Sam grabbed it with a look of determination and tore into it.
“Not so bad,” Sam announced as he chewed. “You can hardly even notice the kick.”
“Right,” Sean stared at Sam in awe. “So, you’ve rubbed a lot of elbows with some pretty big names in the music industry since you first started off, namely Elton John and Metallica. Are there any groups or musicians that you would want to either collaborate or tour with?”
Sam started to think, but quickly got distracted by the flow of mucus that was starting to pool out of his nostrils. He tried to be covert about it, since he desperately didn’t want Sean to think he couldn’t handle spicy foods, so he quickly rubbed his nose. All that did was spread the snot across his face.
“Well,” Sam grunted out, trying to act cool, “If John Denver was still alive, I’d have to say him.”
To Sam’s dismay, even more snot was coming out of his nose, to the point where it was dripping down onto his shirt. Sam attempted to ignore it; maybe it was something the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up.
Across the table, Sean gaped at the boogers flooding out of Sam’s nostrils like a waterfall. While Sam blabbed on and on about all of the jazz and blues musicians that he admired and wanted to tour with, all Sean could do was study his nose in wonder, guessing when the flow would finally stop.
It was a relief that one of the crew members couldn’t take it anymore, since she passed a napkin off to Sam and, under her breath, begged him to wipe his schnoz. In grim defeat Sam let out a loud honk as he snorted into the tissue, and then wiped at his face, clearing the mucus away.
“The short answer is John Denver, George Gershwin, or Howlin Wolf if they were still alive. Taj Mahal would be exciting though too.”
“I think you need another wing,” Sean was ready to test Sam’s limits. Although Sam’s confidence was visibly wavering, he nodded his head.
“Bring it.”
8. Evolution Hot Sauce - Da Bomb - 135,000 Scoville Heat Units
“Still doing good?” Sean checked in with Sam. He liked to give his guests the opportunity to tap out before they shit themselves.
“I’m fantastic,” Sam replied with certainty, his cockiness returning.
“This one usually slows people down.”
“We’ll see about that,” Sam nodded down at the wing. In comparison to his previous large bites, Sam took a more inquisitive chew and was quick to gulp it down. Suddenly Sam’s eyebrows raised and his cheeks started to flush. He let out a short gasp and popped the top few buttons of his shirt. Sean watched him in glee, relieved that his strange guest was finally starting to be torn down by the scorching heat.
“This is a walk in the park,” Sam gasped out, his eyes welling with tears. He downed the rest of his margarita, blew his nose into his hands, and then downed the remainder of his second bottle of Corona. As Sam heaved out gasps of air, Sean cheerfully returned to his questions.
“You caused quite a stir amongst your fans with your impromptu visit to New York. What inspired the trip, and what touristy places are you planning on taking your bandmates when you’re back in September to play at Madison Square Garden?”
“What spices did they use in this thing?” Sam heaved between gags, “stuff out of Satan’s asshole?”
“Scorpion peppers,” Sean explained. “They’re pretty hot.”
“No kidding,” Sam coughed. Even though he was fighting for his life, his hands trembling at the overwhelming nature of the spice, he considered Sean’s question. “I wanted to go to New York,” he answered between coughs. After grabbing another bottle of Corona and chugging it, Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and continued. “Plane tickets were cheap, our management thought it might be a funny gimmick for me to announce our world tour in an unconventional way that was sure to get people talking. Um, Danny wants to go to the Central Park Zoo, I think Jake would enjoy the Hard Rock Cafe. Josh probably wants to go to Rockefeller Plaza.”
“All great spots,” Sean agreed.
“Shit, I feel so alive,” Sam groaned outwards.
“Are you okay?” Sean raised an eyebrow.
“This is great, I have health insurance, it’s all good,” Sam rambled, starting to sound incoherent. He brought the Corona back to his lips and tilted it back, accidentally splashing half the bottle down the front of his button up shirt. “Aw man,” Sam pouted down at his mess. Within seconds, a new napkin was in his hands, which he used to dab at his wet spots. “I haven’t stepped in any human shit yet on the subways,” Sam shared while he continued to clean himself, even though Sean hadn’t asked.
“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen human shit on the subway?” Sean replied.
“You’re not looking hard enough,” Sam answered back.
“Are you feeling ready to move on to the next wing?” Sean changed the topic.
“I’m feeling like I could get another wing in my mouth, Sean,” Sam said.
9. Taco Vibes Only - Butterfly Bakery of Vermont - 638,000 Scoville Heat Units
“We’re two away from the end,” Sean congratulated Sam.
“Nearly to the finish line,” Sam nodded before flushing out his nose into a tissue again. “I promise you, the nose blowing is a new one,” Sam continued. “This has literally never happened to me before, so I’m really curious what the hell you’re feeding me.”
“Hot Wings,” Sean stated flatly. Sam squinted back at Sean, not buying what he was saying. It wasn’t often that Sam got knocked off his high horse.
“This sauce uses a simplistic recipe so the peppers can really shine through,” Sean recited. “It features just lime juice-”
“Like the margaritas,” Sam cut in.
“Right,” Sean nodded. “And cumin and coriander to enhance the natural tangy and earthy notes.”
“If I can taste anything other than fucking hot on this wing, I’m gonna impress myself,” Sam said.
“It’s mostly so the viewers know what you’re dealing with,” Sean explained.
“Well,” Sam looked across to Sean, and then into the camera. “Here goes nothing.” Sam did the sign of the cross for good luck and then bit into the wing.
“Ho,” he almost immediately rasped, staring off into nothingness. “Hooooooooo hoooooooooo.”
Sean chuckled as Sam started to breathe like he was giving birth. The tears were back in his eyes, and they were pouring down his cheeks so they splotched on the table cloth and Sam’s pants. “Agh,” Sam was making incoherent noises, and then he suddenly stopped fidgeting and sat upright, staring directly above Sean.
“Oh shit,” Sam murmured, and then clawed at his tongue for a brief second.
“What?” Sean asked, whirling around on his stool to try and catch a glimpse of what Sam was staring at, his mouth wide open. “What is it?”
“God,” Sam whispered. “I see God. And he looks like a hot wing.”
Sean stared at Sam.
“Hello God,” Sam whispered.
“I don’t think he’s okay,” Sean turned to the producer. “Maybe we should stop here.”
“What’s that, God?” Sam asked louder. “Eat another wing? Sure thing, boss.”
“Maybe don’t do that,” Sean tried to put a hand up to Sam, but it was already too late. Looking like he was lost in another dimension, Sam grabbed the bottle of hot sauce and dumped it into his bottle of Corona and started to slurp it down.
“Oh Jesus,” Sean frowned.
“My mouth feels disconnected from my body,” Sam hummed. He dropped the beer bottle back onto the table and then threw himself back so he nearly toppled over on his stool. By some miracle he was able to push himself back upright, and then grabbed another napkin to wipe his sauced up hands. He looked back up at the space above Sean’s head and gasped. “There’s two gods now,” Sam breathed out. “It’s so beautiful.”
Sean was paralyzed in place, gawking at Sam, who had tears rolling down his cheeks again.
“So beautiful,” Sam exhaled. He grabbed the napkin from the table and lifted it up to wipe his eyes.
“Oh wait, no,” Sean tried to stop him, but it was too late.
Sam was now the one frozen, his eyes wide with fear and shock as he realized his mistake.
“SHIT!” he snapped out of it, hollering in pain as he threw his hands up to cover his eyes that now had hot sauce in them. “MOTHER FUCKER!”
The producer nodded for Sean to continue going and, as disturbed as he looked, he cleared his throat and talked over Sam’s calls of immense pain.
“In your song, ‘My Way Soon,’ your brother sings, ‘I’ve seen many places, there are so many places.’ For a 24 year old, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot: from the sketchiest dive bars to playing in front of thousands in packed stadiums, which places do you feel were the most monumental in your musical and personal journeys?”
Sam hadn’t heard a single word that came out of Sean’s mouth because he was too busy dumping his glass of milk onto his eyes while begging for forgiveness from the hot wing gods.
“Give me peace, oh mighty lord!” Sam cried tears of milk.
“He’s not finishing this,” Sean decided with a sense of finality. He thought that Bobby Lee had gone through the worst experience on his show, but the kid from Michigan had experienced the most devastating fall from grace he had ever seen.
Sam’s eyes were bright red, his clothes were beyond destroyed from all the milk, booze, and sauce he had spilled on himself, and his hair was plastered to his face from the sweat. He looked as though he had been to the farthest edge of hell and had to crawl back. Steam practically seemed to be pouring off him as he shakily stood from the stool and then plopped down on the ground so he could lean forward into a fetal position, his head up in his knees.
“I fucking hate hot wings,” Sam groaned from the floor.
10. The Last Dab: Apollo - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - So fucking hot the Scoville Heat Units don’t exist
“Let me sub in,” Danny said, running from behind the camera to the table, extending a hand for Sean to shake in confusion. “I’m Daniel Wagner, drummer for Greta Van Fleet,” Danny introduced himself to the camera. “My buddy, Sam, was so close to making it. He told me beforehand that if he couldn’t do it, I would have to finish it out for him.”
“That’s a first on this show,” Sean seemed to be growing on the idea.
Danny squatted down to Sam’s side and patted his arm.
“I’ll close this out for you, Sam,” he promised his best friend. Sam opened his
bloodshot eyes for a second to look up at Danny and then squeezed them shut again and let out another deep, low moan. “He’ll be okay,” Danny assured the crew. “He’s been through much worse. He could probably use some eye drops though.”
Danny gave Sam one more pat for a little extra reassurance, and then dragged him by the feet to the edge of the soundstage so he was out of the way.
“Glaugh,” was all Sam could say.
Danny returned back to Sam’s toppled stool and set it back on its legs so he could perch on it.
“Last wing, right?” he checked in with Sean.
“You got it,” Sean nodded. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna handle it like Sam did on that last round. That was hard to watch.”
“Trust me, I’m the sane one in the group,” Danny assured him. “Do you have a question that I can answer while I eat?”
“Well, uh,” Sean was thrown off-guard. “It’s really more of a question for Sam.”
“Try me,” Danny said as he added a dollop of hot sauce to his wing.
“Your, or, Sam’s dog, Rosie, seems like a really important part of his life, appearing in a lot of the band’s instagram photos and tiktoks. If you knew she could understand you, what would you tell her?”
“That is a better question for Sam,” Danny agreed, his mouth already full of the wing. “This is delicious, by the way.”
Sean gaped at Danny. The highest level wing hardly had an impact on him. He looked as if he had just bitten down on some celery.
“I would tell Rosie,” Sam gargled from the side of the stage, “that her dad is a big old wuss for tapping out early on Hot Ones!”
“You got close, Sam,” Danny turned around to tell his friend. “You got really damn close. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”
“I’m a failure,” Sam sniffed.
“The wings did kick your ass, bud,” Danny agreed.
“We usually give guests the last part of the show to plug anything they might be working on right now,” Sean interjected. “There’s a camera there, there, and there that you can look into.”
“Oh, sweet,” Danny perked up and set his finished wing gently down on its plate. “Okay, well, our single, ‘Meeting the Master’ is out now on all streaming sites, our album Starcatcher will be released on July 21st, mark your calendars, and we’re going on tour at the end of July. We’ve got a lot of exciting stuff for you down the road, I can’t wait to put it out into the world. Wanna add anything, Sam?”
“Can I have some more milk?” Sam whimpered off to the side.
“Of course, Sam,” Danny promised him. “Anything to add about any upcoming projects?”
“Upcoming projects?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, Sam.”
“I’m gonna pump my stomach,” Sam shared.
#great van fleet#gvf#gvf fic#greta van fleet fic#gvf fanfic#gvf fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfic#sam kiszka#danny wagner#josh kiszka#jake kiszka#starcatcher#hot ones#sean evans#sam got so close#but god was that a rough ending for him
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THE NOT-ULTIMATE OBVIOUSLY PARTIAL AND INCOMPLETE GUIDE TO EATIN' IN GOTHAM
So you're coming to Gotham City. Where does the discerning traveler get their nosh on? `Cause there's no WAY that we're eating at TGI Friday's.
Well, you're in luck, friendo. This native is going to spill on some of the most famous places in Gotham, as well as less-known local joints that everyone should try.
LUIGI'S
Best. Fookin'. Pizza. In. Gotham. Yeah, they sell by the slice, but getchaself a pie. It's worth it. Classic sicilian, the crust is JUST a hair thicker than norm, but still bendy and thin - it's just not bendy enough to drop all the toppings on the floor when you pick it up. Best of all worlds, amazing homemade sauce. 10/10.
CHEZ VOUS
Y'know the stereotypes about French restaurants being snooty and overpriced? Yeah, toss `em out the window. Chez Vous is the only French takeout joint I know. It helps that the Tarte A La Tomate is basically a puff-pastry pizza with mustard instead of red sauce. It's all very rustic French, even slipping in some Basque cuisine, and it's all damn good - but the best part is it won't break your wallet. Twelve bucks'll get you through almost any dish on the menu. Also, yes, like half the menu is fully vegan. 9/10, they lose a point for pretending they don't know what you're talking about when you ask for "the French pizza thing".
KATYA'S
Formerly "Katya's Italian Kitchen", 3rd Street. Still called that according to the sign that they haven't changed yet. Just plain good Italian. Homemade pasta, and the mushroom tortellini is perfect. It's an open secret that it's a mafia front, but it stays in business because A) the Zucco family hasn't really done anything outside of white collar crime since Tony Zucco got fingered for murder a decade-plus ago, and B) it's pretty deece. 8/10, a little overpriced but solid, don't spring for the calzones.
BIG BELLY BURGER
There's about twenty locations in Gotham, and if you want fast food, yeah it's damn good. They used to have the HQ here and they still treat their restaurants like they're the 'flagships' for the franchise. Expect a big honkin' slab of steamed meat with gooey white cheese in the middle, whatever veg you want (they nickle-and-dime you for anything past pickle and onion but they have a REALLY impressive selection anyway) and the trademark Big Belly Sauce (which I think is just thousand island without pickle but it's still good). The only weakness here is the fries, which are okay, but not great. 7/10, gives me heartburn every time.
BAT-BURGER
This place gains points from my point of view by relentlessly mocking the asshats who keep trying to make Gotham a worse place to live. WHY YES I WOULD LIKE TO JOKERIZE THOSE FRIES! In all honesty it's a good mid-grade fast food place that gets extra points for proper seasoning on everything. Just don't go to the one in Old Gotham, the manager is constantly drunk and I doubt it's EVER been properly cleaned. 7/10 for most locations, 3/10 for OG.
THE ICEBERG LOUNGE
Okay, y'know how it's an open secret that Katya's is a mafia front? The Iceberg Lounge isn't a secret, it relishes in it. This is Ozzie Cobblepot's one 100% legit venture, which is why it keeps surviving when he gets thrown in the slammer (I think it's technically owned by a separate property management company now, so they can't touch it anymore…). Big band music, glorious art deco themeing, and legit the best seafood in the city. 9/10, if you can afford the splurge it's worth it.
CUBBY'S DINING CAR
This diner has been in business since 1937, and they've barely changed the menu since 1937. That means that yes, you can still get a hot Dr. Pepper here, and yes, it's still gross. No-frills breakfast standards and burgers. The "Cub Sauce" is just chili sauce, it's a nightmare for the digestion but it's almost worth it. Bonus points for having a loose meat "miscellaneous poultry" sammich they call "Skymeat". The owner claims that this is a local thing from West Virginia, I really don't buy it. 5/10, menu is a mixed bag but it's an experience, and they never close which is nice.
LOU'S CANDY SHOPPE
While nominally 'just a candy shop', this place actually has a really good menu. Old fashioned malts and egg creams, Gotham style dogs that are as good as any street cart but prepared in a marginally cleaner environment, and even cheesesteaks (with whiz, always). The walls of Lou's are plastered with Gotham history, which Lou himself refers to as 'his trophies', basically anything that he lived through. 8/10, there's only three tables or this would probably rate higher.
IL-SHAN-TEN
If you want decent Japanese food in Gotham Proper, this isn't a bad spot. It's halfway between an izakaya and a diner, and they make really good donburi. The place used to be a mahjong parlor (hence the name) and it's evidently gotten kinda trendy lately? Expect a crowd, but not a bad crowd. 6/10, a little overpriced, but serviceable.
THE GOTHAM BAR AND GRILL
They say this place used to be good years ago. I don't believe it. As a bar, TGBaG is halfway passable, so long as you don't want a cocktail more complex than a boilermaker. As a grill, it's godawful. Burgers come in two varieties - underdone and burnt. Steaks are stingy, the fish and chips tastes indescribable (and not in a good way, but in a Cthulhu kinda way). Fries are passable. 2/10, avoid, the name does not make it a local institution, and the fact that it's been in business since `39 makes it an anomaly, not a mark of pride.
BLACK BASS BAR
Now this is more like it. Closed from six AM to noon, seedy as all get out but lively and fun. The embodiment of a dive bar. Classic Brit style fish and chips, decent mini pizzas, cheap and greasy. 8/10, no, the bartender won't sleep with you but she's fun to hang with.
FOOD JUNCTON
I think it's supposed to say "junction". Had to end this with my favorite anomaly. This place is right outside the stadium (GO KNIGHTS) and it's literally an old carnival food trailer that the put on a foundation and called good. It serves gyros and kebabs in various forms, all to go unless you want to sit on the curb (which a lot of people do). The only drink they serve is mystery-flavor Kool-Aid. Cheap as balls, homemade tzatziki or "happy sauce" (which is equally homemade ranch that they refuse to call ranch), always good. 12/10, a must-have.
Alright, that's it, if anyone has any requests for a short review I'll add `em in later with a reblog.
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What We Do - Part 6
Summary: Marc, Steven, and Jake are learning to live together. Old habits are hard to break and old lies are even harder to remove. Jake struggles to find his place.
Continuation of “What we see”. This is going to be a series.
Pairing: They're all friends here. And Layla saves the day.
Word count: 2521
Part one Here.
Part Two Here.
Part Three Here.
Part Four Here.
Part Five Here.
Part Six: A fun chapter of Jake introducing the family to his friends. One of Marc's secrets is found out in the process. Which leads to Jake's biggest secret being revealed.
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Jake stood outside of Gena’s diner. It had been a few days since his injury and they were healing nicely. Marc and Steven had left him alone for the most part, and Jake wasn’t sure if it was because Marc was still mad at him.
It was early morning now and he called into the dark. It was time to wake up. He felt like he owed them something. An apology perhaps. Or maybe he was just telling himself that this was what it was.
He frowned and turned to face a darkened window. He waited until his reflection blinked at him with confused eyes. “Morning.” Steven offered a small wave. “We aren’t stabbed again are we? Don’t feel stabbed. That’s a good sign. Right?”
Marc looked around from his vantage point then seemed to relax a little. “What are we doing here?”
“I want to let you into my world but…” He sighed. “I haven’t been a part of yours. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe it’s yours. I’m going to take the first step. Layla thinks we need to figure out how to share this life before we can have our own.”
Jake turned back to the diner and walked inside. “Morning Gena.” He tipped his hat back.
Gena grinned. “Mister Sunshine! Good to see you fully upright and coherent! Got a fresh pot here with your name on it.”
Jake moved to take his usual seat and glanced around. He was the first in as usual. “Fill ‘er up.” He tapped the empty mug in front of him.
She poured a cup and set his usual hot sauce bottle in front of him. “What’ll it be today? Eggs? Steak?”
Jake hesitated. “Do you have anything uh… Vegan?”
Gena blinked in surprise. “Vegan? Hmmm. Bringing me a challenge at long last.” She brought a small menu over and set it in front of him. “Haven’t dusted this off in a while, but I keep one of these around for people with dietary needs. Allergies and what not.”
Jake stared at the menu. It had ingredients listed for several items and special plate combos. “Excuse me a moment.” He tilted his hat down and muttered to himself. “Steven? Do you see anything you like?”
Steven came to the front and looked at the menu a moment then looked up at Gena with a large smile. “Wow I’ve never been in here before. If I’d known you had a special menu I’d have come in ages ago. Like something from an American picture, huh?”
Gena looked surprised for a moment then grinned and leaned against the counter. “Well you know, I am from America. Only fair that I get to take a little of home with me, huh? So are you the vegan? Sorry to say I’ve been helping to put steak and eggs in your body for a while now.”
Steven focused in on Gena and looked a bit startled. “I’m afraid I’m the only vegan here. I do have one request though… No bacon right? No pork?”
Gena thought for a moment. “No… Pretty sure he’s avoided that. Are you kosher?”
Steven sipped the coffee and reached for the creamer. “Yeah, a bit. A bit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. We aren’t exactly kosher here. One cooktop, you see… But he’s usually the first one here. Which means that no other meat has touched the surface since it was last cleaned.” She shrugged. “Or I can just tell him to stick to the menu.”
Steven mulled it over. “It’s alright. He can have his meat. Not like Marc abides by it either.”
Gena pushed the packets of sugar towards Steven on a hunch. “Alright, Sunshine. So we have Jake and Marc. What does that make you?”
“Oh, my manners!” He waved lightly. “Steven Grant. I uh, well I’m out of the job right now. Misunderstanding at the museum. Marc still owes me for that one. I’m hoping to maybe get a new job soon. Not at the museum, of course. I don’t think they’d take me back after the bathroom incident.”
Gena nodded and watched him pour several packets of sugar into his coffee. “You know, Jake mentioned a little while back that he had brothers. Is Marc the difficult one?”
Steven pointed to the menu. “Peanut butter pancakes with a side of fruit please.” He sipped his coffee for a moment as if considering something. “He really said that? The brother thing, I mean. Not the Marc thing. Marc is very difficult on the best of days.”
“Steven.” Marc fronted and made a face at the coffee. “We talked about the sugar.”
Gena set a cup of fruit down before them and took a moment to look Marc over. “You must be the difficult one.” She nodded to herself and went to find her pancake mix. “You look like the difficult one. Reminds me of my youngest.”
“Funny.” Marc frowned and stared down at the fruit. He started to pick out the grapes, leaving the melon behind. “How long have you known Jake?”
“Couple of years now I think. He started coming around a little before that. Never said much more than his order. Kept to himself a lot back then. He came in early one morning and walked in on a couple of punks trying to rob me.” Gena frowned as she mixed the pancake batter. “He made very quick work of them. Might have saved my life. They didn’t seem the type to leave witnesses if you know what I mean.”
Marc took his cap off and set it on the counter next to the coffee. “Yeah? Did he… You know, leave a mess?”
“Heaven’s no.” Gena poured a few globs onto the cooktop. “Beat them senseless and kept them down until the police came. He’s been helping me since. Single mom with two boys, here. Sometimes I would bring them in with me and he’d talk to them. Told them stories and helped them with their homework. The oldest is going off to college now. I like to think Jake kept him on the right path. Fantastic tipper, by the way.”
Steven picked out a slice of melon and ate it happily. “See? He’s a good guy. Just a little shy is all.”
“I’d say he’s a fantastic guy.” Gena flipped the pancakes.
“I can forgive him for getting us stabbed. I’d say on a scale of stabbed to shot and dead, Marc is still leading for the worst day.” Steven sipped the coffee and gave Gena a cheeky grin.
“So how does the lovely Layla play into this?” She set the stack of pancakes in front of Steven with a side of peanut butter and a cup of syrup. “Not that it’s any of my business. She seemed like a fantastic woman. You should have seen her come blazing up to my place that night.”
“She’s my wife.” Marc huffed and stared down at the pancakes.
“She likes me more.” Steven smirked and started to fix the pancakes how he liked them.
“Jake likes her too.” Gena grinned, leaning on the counter as she watched Steven devour the pancakes. “Blushes every time I ask him about her.
They paused chewing and took a moment as Jake fronted. He made a face and swallowed the peanut butter and syrup soaked piece. “I’m not trying to steal her. She’s nice.”
Gena poured a new cup of coffee and set it down next to the sugar laden one. “Call it whatever you want to call it. I think she’d do you good, Mister Sunshine.”
Jake frowned to hide his blush and put his cap back on, pulling it down low as he drank from the fresh cup.
Gena moved to clean up the cooktop. “Thanks for bringing your brothers along this time. It’s good to see you’ve got more going on than your car. You should all come over for dinner some time. Maybe I can cook you all a proper meal and not this cholesterol ridden goop, huh?”
Jake glanced up then stared down into his cup for a moment. “I don’t think-”
“I’d love that!” Steven smiled up at Gena. “I’m sure we’d all love that! Uh. Maybe not just yet though. Someone still has social anxiety issues. It’s Jake. Jake doesn’t much like uh, being seen by other people. You know. Cause of the trauma.”
“Steven.” Marc sighed and put his face in his hands for a moment. “It’s taken us a while to sort things out between Steven and I. Jake is… We’re not yet on the same page.”
Gena nodded. “I’m going to be frank, I don’t understand any of this whatsoever, but I’m going to take you at your word. Just promise me that when you all do get on the same page that you let me cook something nice for you.”
Jake rolled his eyes and looked away, but his frown turned up at the corners. “Promise.”
The door behind them opened and Gena looked up. “Well if it isn’t my favorite golden boy. Come for your morning tea?” She fetched a cup and left the counter to bring it over to the newcomer.
Jake pulled out his wallet and tossed down several bills. He paused then added a few more for her trouble. He turned to leave then stopped.
Steven jolted forward. “Crawley?”
Crawley looked up from his booth in surprise. He grinned and held up his tea cup in greeting. “Morning. Uh… Would I be addressing Steven, Marc, or Jake on this occasion?”
–
Steven sat fuming at his desk. He was so mad that he couldn’t even focus on the words in the book he was pretending to read.
Jake did his best to hide the fact that he was more than a little amused. Marc sat in the furthest and dirtiest mirror in the flat. Any effort to come closer to the surface was met by Steven’s cold shoulder.
Marc tried again and this time Steven shut his book and marched over to the mirror. “I can’t believe you! All this time! I’m out there spouting my troubles to my only friend and you…You! You tell him to keep his yap shut! Using him as an informant! Spying on my life! He knew this whole time and you swore him to keep it secret! I’m out there having a mental breakdown and he can’t tell me a word of what he knows because you wouldn’t let him!”
Marc looked down, unable to meet Steven’s angry gaze. “Look… I met him once and we got to talking. He’s a good guy. I explained the situation and he agreed to-”
“To be your informant! You underhanded-” Steven turned his back and found Jake in the fish tank. “And you! How did he know you! Was he a double informant? Working for you too?”
Jake held up his hands. “Absolutely not. He kept a similar schedule to me. He was always at the diner in the morning drinking his tea. He probably knew my name because he asked Gena.”
“Right.” Steven gave him an apologetic look. “Saw your handsome mug and thought it was one of us probably. Put two and two together.”
Marc shot Jake an exasperated look. Jake shrugged and pretended to look at the fish.
Steven went back to his desk and sat down. “I can’t even talk to you right now.” He flipped open a book and stared down at it again.
Marc sighed and slowly rotated the book so that it was at least rightside up. “Steven, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I thought I was taking care of you. I’m an idiot, okay? Please don’t be mad.”
Steven huffed and grabbed a piece of paper. “I’m keeping tally.”
He wrote all their names at the top and made columns. Under Jake he wrote ‘Stabbed’. Under Marc he wrote ‘Spied on Steven.’ ‘We got shot’.
“I’d like to protest the shooting incident. That wasn’t exactly my fault. Harrow shot us and if anything, it brought us closer together thanks to the Duat.” Marc muttered.
Steven sighed and drew a line through it.
Jake immediately wrote under it ‘Left Jake in the sarcophagus’.
Steven gave Jake a sheepish look. “Well we didn’t exactly know it was you…”
Jake shrugged. “Still counts in my books.”
“This is stupid.” Marc went back to the mirror. “Put under Steven the time he kissed my wife even when I told him not to.”
“She wanted to kiss me first! And you got your revenge!” Steven protested.
“You forgot to buy toothpaste last time you were out.” Jake mumbled. “I gave you a list.”
“I…” Steven looked over at Jake. “Okay, I’ll take that one. I got distracted by the pens with the pyramids on them…”
“You also didn’t buy me the right hair gel.” Marc pointed out. “I told you which one and you put it back on the shelf.”
“Okay this was a bad idea!” Steven balled up the paper and threw it away. “I’m still cross with you.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Marc sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“But I forgive you. It was in the past and it was hard back then.” Steven sighed. “Anyone else have any ground breaking secrets they want to divulge? Now’s the time. Get it all out now and we won’t be angry. This is a free secret confession hour.”
“I asked the girl out.” Jake shrugged. “She was pretty and seemed to like you. I thought you could use a break.”
Steven looked up at Jake in shock. “Alright. That was a terrible move, but I forgive you. Don’t do it again.”
“I once worked a whole day for you at the shop and may have told Donna to stuff it where the sun don’t shine.” Marc crossed his arms.
Jake smirked. “I saw that one. She turned a horrible shade of red.”
Steven put his hand over his mouth to hide the smile. “Not cool.”
“I saved your ass in Dubai.” Jake looked at Marc. “If you don’t start checking your corners when you enter rooms I’m going to lose it.”
Marc frowned. “Dubai was a disaster. I think I was actively trying to get myself shot at that point. I suppose I owe you a thank you…”
“I crashed your car!” Steven slumped down on the desk. “I thought muscle memory was a thing and wanted to go for a little drive around the block. I hit the curb and panicked!”
Jake ran a hand through his hair slowly. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a crash, but I did wonder why my car was parked on the sidewalk…”
They were silent for a moment. Each one trying to decide what was worthy of a confession.
Jake fidgeted in his seat for a moment. “I… I was not released from my contract with Khonshu.”
“Well.” A deep voice filled the room. “Negotiations only included those that were present.” Khonshu appeared, crouched at a bookcase as he casually looked over the spines there. “And I was true to my word. I did release you both.”
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Hi ^^) it's my first time doing this, so I'm kinda nervous (ahhh how should I start?). Well, I'm here because i got interested in the BSD Matchup thing, so thank you in advancement >////<)
Uh- Im pretty shy and calm in real life, but in Internet I tend to be more teaser (maybe because I can't see the other person's face) even tho I can't really handle them in rl, and because of that ppl usually misunderstood my personality, also I have social anxiety, so it's pretty hard to people ACTUALLY understand and know the real me (honesty sometimes i wish ppl could just read my mind, that would be so much easier?). Sometimes i think like i just have a mask that I can't get off to the point of me forgetting the real me.
About those personality tests: I'm INTP-A, 5w6 and my love language is affirmative words and act of service
If I bake you something/draw you, for sure i treasure or relationship.
As for my hobbies: I like to read, sell, cosplay, draw, listen to true crimes podcast, watch animes, teach, learn languages (for now I can speak 5) study and bake (most time sweets). My dream is someday have a pretty (vegan) coffee.
For now I am a volunteer physic teacher to help 9 graders to pass in exams for good highschools, but I can't wait to get a real job in some quiet place (like a library).
I am a short (150cm T^T), a bit chubby, I'm a sagittarius and I like the caos in the "not so monotonous" way (I just hate get bored), and when I'm not envolved, obviously, just watching, I hate have too many eyes on me. I also hate when people try to force a friendship with me, like, if i hug you, I'm showing that I don't mind you getting too close (even tho it can surprise me sometimes), but that change completely when "you" hug me without intimacy, i will 100% dislike your hugs from now on.
Also I really like to hear people talk about their passion and dreams, maybe I can get a bit of inspiration haha.
Sometimes when I take my medicines I may be oblivious to my own felling, so in that kind of situation i just like so see people I like happy by making them a treat or just walking through the city with no place in mind, just to focus on their happiness to make me feel warm
Whaa- sorry if it was too long, I don't know how much I should say or keep to myself to get a good analysis, usually I don't share that much oh things aaah that's embarrassing... but yeah that's it I hope you are having a wonderful day/night
Note : Hi! Firstly I'd like to apologize for the time it tooks to actually write this and secondly I'd like to assure you that you weren't embarassing ^^ Have a good day/night i hope and take care of yourself ! I haven't written any forms concerning matchups to help people requesting, so anything that you wrote is okay, it's never too long or too short and i'll try my best pairing you with a character with what i have. I hope that you like the one i paired you with and that it aha isn't too much or a mess, matchups aren't really my expertise ahah ^^'
I pair you with...
Atsushi ! ★
You, shy and calm in real life, a teaser on the internet, have came across the path of A CAT- I mean, weretiger.
He would be kind, understanding and considerate towards you and would respect your boundaries. Whenever you have troubles with anything, you know that Atsushi will always be with you and that it'll be okay, he'll support, understand and try to help you out.
That boy Atsushi needs theses affirmative words, he've been through a lot and only feel the right to live if he save people's lives and it's good sometimes to remind him that he's good enough just as he is.
if i got this wrong please run me over with a car , dig a hole and bury my brain inside of it... ACTUALLY NO PLEASE DON'T TOUCH MY BIGASS BRAIN
Atsushi would try to surprise you with some little gifts sometimes, he won't overdo it. If you're like kyoka by example, he'd buy you crepes and ice creams. If you're as mysterious as Dazai, he'll try to go with flowers probably.
Atsushi would be really happy if one day you bake or draw something for him.
Atsushi spent a lot of time reading in his orphanage's library as a form of escapism, so you can sometimes chat about books you both read without much problems.
You also love to ask about Atsushi's days as he works in the armed detective agency, and his days are never the ssame, as he like to ask about your day too.
Atsushi would absolutely support you in your dreams of having a pretty vegan coffee, and he'll do what he can to help you make your dream possible.
Atsushi gets flustered easily, and it can be pretty caotic. But cute?
When you're out on a date with Atsushi, he makes sure that you feel comfortable and to not get all eyes on both of you.
You both would be a nice pair.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd matchups#matchups#bsd x y/n#bungou stray dogs matchups#bsd x s/o#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs#atsushi x reader#atsushi x y/n#atsushi x you#atsushi bsd#atsushi matchup
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Shit people at my previous work have said
(uncensored)
"there's seven bitches out there. not women. bitches"
-coworker
"tastes like God's vagina"
-one of my supervisors
"he's the dark guy! you close your eyes and he's suddenly there"
-coworker talking about another coworker
"of course you're a bottom feeder" -me
coworker 1: move it fatass
coworker 2: first of all, I got a flat ass so get it right
coworker 1: okay, it's average
coworker 2: I'll take that
"I know you're not (x5) coming in here looking like a wet mop!" -Coworker
"I don't think he likes carrots!" -me after my coworker said he loves carrots
"that's how you sound, bitch!" -coworker
"tell them to fuck off we're playing pac-man!"
-some dude in the break room
"these fucking peanut butter balls are gonna get hard" -manager
"once I get started, everyone's gonna want a fucking pineapple"
-a Coworker
"you're gonna be fucking my foot"
-a coworker @ me
server: if anyone needs me, I'll be in the back, crying
me: can I join?
"It's almost time to…………take a shit"
-Coworker
"MY SHIRT PEED ON ITSELF!"
-Coworker
"don't go touching my meat like that" -Coworker
"this is like the opening to Cici's Pizza" -an employee in another department
"get the fuck out!" -a coworker responding to that
"It smells like cinnamon toast crunch up in this bitch!" -a coworker
"oh no my boobs are falling out!" -a coworker
"My wife's name is Crystal and I'm addicted to Crystal" -a coworker
"I don't wanna be the hero so I may as well be the villain!" -a coworker
"The Vegans are here"
-a coworker
Server: why are we putting dirty linen with the clean?
Cook: we do not care
me: we don't give a shit
server: oh yeah I forgot about that
"Why are there 5 year olds ordering Ribeye?" -a coworker
"get lost, stupid tomato! You are in the way!" -me
"Fucking Barbecue sauce everywhere" -a coworker
"on your tiddies?" -another coworker
"move yo bitch asses!" -me using alternative ways to say, "behind"
*points at flames* "would" -me
*demonic screeching instead of saying, "behind"* -me
"who left a trail of excitement over there?" -me
"ah yes! my favourite meal! Pineapple and ice!" -me
"is this velveeta cheese? disgusting!" -me scraping one of the deep pan things
"stupid ass cheese" -me
“Mother fucker asshole bitch"
-me over a broom falling
"you know what? fuck that french fry!"
-me after running over a french fry with a cart
"why are we British?" -me
"sorry, mate, I didn't mean to fart in your face" -one of my managers to my other manager
"Chocolate Chipple Nipples" - Some person in the Employee Break Room
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Head Mistress Journal Inquiry
I'm beat your ugly ass
you ugly and look perturbed
joy comes in the morning
the difference between you and I
toy soldier's but on your own time
bombastic side eye
dirty wine
tremble when I look around
y'all feet making sound but there's air
air heads trying to find there place amongst thieves
looking for debt and stay shirtless in the streets
notice I been looking and some doubt
what about ya boy about that action
I'm a winner you a fraud
the main stage and you want my luck
that's just my luck
catch a case get a clue
the catcher and rye
but you name means nincompoop
you just to darn complacent
you and a bigger woman to get pov
talk that talk cuz ms.bout that life
a needle in the haystack trying to catch Peter
a leader amongst thieves
you just as bad as a girl
don't be okay with the company you keep
begging ass for bacon stripes
meme god cuz you can't write and essay
asking for answer to question able act
now you getting good meal from a bitch that smoke crack
scary ass look me up straight and down
the bigger the berry the sweeter the juice
side by side to catch my wave you can't stop believing
its a down payment fighting demons like 26 getting called dunks
bitches out the woodwork looking to join in
was good is bigger fella got to be the jin the one putting in
ass kisser, since you saw back shots and want in
dirty spirte girl you leaning
your not cool you've been scheming
you like that cat thing that keeps chasing babies
licks Licker only see when you jumping
you not my kin I don't know how you notice me
twisted sister and and kid blameless but ffully inked
pansy gives light but it don't break even
I'm give you something to fight
I ain't your moma fight your own battles
I'm not something to lean on there's hos popping with problems
oo money moore problems bad kids prom is the less of Eville
fight or flight cuz you can't suspect something all the time
somebody's meal ticket pervasive why into sin
bad leader villain to an expose situation
small but stay dick riding like a bitch you are.
first or licked it, pitched a fork and threw to a home run. Still diking
you need a big sister. Don't knowing want Salisbury water after practice.
nobody touched you. But the ice box causing me hives A B C
old school need to get you. She be coming round the mountain.
your bad now, things couldn't GET any better.
catch me if you can mains clap hands and throw it where the sun don't shine.
I'm nobody's girl-friend but serving face is closer than assault and rifle.
sad ass clown find vegan ace the same way you attain it.
nobody want to see you. Maggot going down in the dm.
foot work look better upside down.
put your set up and get knocked back down I ain't playing fools.
tackle and bait and holes in the wall sound appropriate to a dog
vie neg led shadow character and trap card ! Get back!
how far have you come where do we go fro here
one cheap shot and a point to prove
this or that talk is cheap to a lap dog
your still standing like a bandit that claim hair
the bird is the o the flipping off is the word
come get y'all that grabbing aggressor and victim
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The boredom of gods and mortals
I need espresso beans—love? Can you pass me that small black jar?”
“You’re going to need to be more specific. I'm looking at 12 and all of them smell cursed.”
“Don’t touch those! I mean the small black jar with the silver—NO gold trim!”
“Mhmm, yes, that narrows it down to about 7. Looks like we’re getting somewhere! Mind if I play a game of eenie-meenie-miney-mo to—“
‘No chance! We’re trying to summon Loki—“
“…who is god mischief and loves all things chaotic!”
“Okay, yes…but…”
“If it fails we can do the thing.”
“You mean the thing with bunny ears and fluffy handcu—“
“YES! That thing.”
“AHH! I’m so excited—“
‘That’s if this fails.”
“Right!! Right! Right! Okay!”
Gods are fickle beings and pretty much do whatever the hell they want. Witches and priests, celebrities and gays at their wits end try to find them. They brew teas, stitch poppets, light shit on fire, fuck themselves in front of a mirror—all so they can feel their presence—but no amount of recipes or divination spells will get them to come. In the end, you have to catch them on a day when they’re bored.
Today? Loki was fucking bored. Today? Two witchy gays want something to talk about after they finished fuxking to the Heathers soundtrack. Today? Their little sanctuary smells like sensuality—dark chocolate mingling with baked goods and a bowl of surprisingly well seasoned vegan fried chicken. Okay, that last one Loki probably could’ve done without, but fuck it! They seemed like a decent way to kill time. And hey, if not? Satan’s eternal booty call still stood.
“Okay, so you’re going with that one, right?”
Blue hair—punk rocker blue, not frost blue, Loki noted. British accent, pale skin, Pink tee…as in, Pink the singer, though, the tee was also pink. She looks smug.
“Yep. Thdt one.”
Short fade, one silver stud in their ear, brown eyes and skin. Also looks smug. They have a well-loved tank top and smell of denial.
“Oh, god of chaos, hear our—“
Alright, no. Loki has decided that he does not, in fact, wish to be prayed to or called “dear” anything. He’s also decided that for now, he’s a dude. He marveles at their faces that honestly look less surprised than he would’ve liked. The blue haired girl seems mildly annoyed if anything. Loki has officially done a cunt block and he finds it very amusing.
“See? I told you!”
“Damnit, you did.”
“Well?”
“Well, what? This was your idea. You just called me here for—“
“Moral support!”
“He’s a Nordic god. I’m sure he knows about—“
‘Shhh. Okay! Wow, um…Loki……”
Loki is hoovering, mid-air, appearing to them in riot gear.
“Yes, I am, in fact, Loki.” She tilts her head to the side, her voice softening, hair and nails that were already painted black grow until they look like very small knives.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance~”
She throws a wink at the person with one stud and finally decides to stop being lazy and learn their name. She scrapes the very surface of their brain and finds the name Kayla. But it’s faded, almost illegiblely so. She moves a little further—not far enough to snoop, mind you. She’s decided that there are some things even she doesn’t desire to know. She finds it there, tucked in the corner, in bold letters. Arden.
Arden just rolls their eyes, good naturedly and looks lovingly at Blake.
“So, why was I called here? if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Well,” Blake says, snapping out of whatever the opposite of post nut clarity is. “My girlfriend and I kind of just wanted to know if you were real…” She looks guilty, but she’s already in this far, so there’s no point stopping. “We were also kind of…sort of…a little bit…bored.”
Loki, now a dude again, gives them both a ‘oh, come the fuck on’ look. Even though he knows a few things these two love birds don’t. First, Arden didn’t agree to help with this because they had nothing better to do or even (mostly) because it would end in sex. A quick glance into Arden’s mind reveals a few things and all of them were pointing to what Loki will loving call, an egg. Secondly, this isn’t the first time they, Arden, have considered summoning them. And it probably won’t be the last. Thirdly, Blake is very much cheating on Arden and Arden is ignoring that instinct. As they talk, Loki decides to do what they—yes they—do best. They tamper with shit. They move the name a little closer to the front of their mind and consider increasing Arden’s suspicion, but instead, turn Blake’s guilt up by 5% for every hour that passes.
After they finish asking thier questions, they seem awkward so Loki blesses their space and all the witchy shit in it. She goes to see Satan.
“Fuck, love! He was incredible! I’m almost not upset that we can’t…you know…”
“We can do side B…if that’s what you want~”
“God, yes!”
And, for today, they are, to the best of their knowledge, a loyal girl with her handsome butch, knotted together under a duvet the color of crow feathers, making something that looks an awful lot like love.
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