#Can't cook for shit etc

[cigarettes-and-black-eyeliner]

in a few months I'll soom be 18 and it's so...I don't know how to explain it but my childhood and part of my teenagehood were so awful(it's still not great but now my life is aqful for kinda different reasons) and for so much of it I felt so isolated(in part I isolated myself but my parents didn't really do much to help) and alone for a number of reasons and didn't even get to feel like a normal kid or teenager and now as I am finally feeling like a teenager (kind of) and doing stuff normal teenagers do (i guess) my childhood is gonna be over.

My childhood is gonna be over and I barely even got to experience it, to make the msot out of it. I hated myself since I was 5 (one. Of my earliest memories). For a while I was so ridden with anxiety and depression I could barely focus on anything else aside from school. I barely had friends. I had to grow up too fast mentally while at the same time I lack skills that other people my age or younger already know how to do(in part because neither my parents nor anyone else properly tried to teach me, like tying my shoelaces for example). I'm (pretty obviously) neurodivergent and undiagnosed and while I didn't know this as a child, I still felt different and not in a good way. I'm a nervous & ackward wreck because of all this.

[chasedeys]

https://www.tumblr.com/chasedeys/764001136892100608

This makes me think of Joe’s obsession with crawfish , and a time when he did go back home he tagged Joe in a ig story showing a BIG BUCKET full of it . That had me thinking like unprovoked something as small as food has you thinking about Joe huh Ja’Marr 😭🥹

YEAH GOD THAT THING ALKAJSKSK shouldve mentioned that to my fav joemarr list bc i have Thoughts on it!

like im not fully sure of the context like was it off-season? on a break? bye week that im not even certain if they practice or whatever?? but what im getting is that ja'marr was back in louisiana getting to eat some damn good food and joes however many thousands miles away and!! he still!! thinks!!!! of him!!!!! to just tag him in a pic of him eating crawfish with probably his entire family!!!!!!!

my guess is that the burrow family probably came by a lot, especially during lsu days, just to have a big cookout where joe demolishes a lot of crawfish idk and ja'marr remembers it and he's thinking of the last time joe came by and ate and tagged him to be so fucking annoying about how he gets to eat some bomb ass seafood boil while joe...doesn't

or like when they last parted joe maybe quipped how ja'marr better eat some good crawfish back home so joe can live vicariously through him and ja'marr tagged him as proof that he was in fact eating some good crawfish

joe replies back with a '👍🖕' and ja'marr replies to that with a '😂' x30

[bullmotif]

the urge to ignore your assigned summer readings in favour of starting yet another Dostoevsky book that will ruin your life

[solidcarbon]

.

[yohankang]

my daily routine: i'm extremely anxious for about 90% of the day and i feel like i can't do this anymore and then i get like. 1 hour of clarity (post-finishing a task) and i'm like okay maybe i'll get through this somehow. and then the horrors start again

[luvevee]

Idk maybe it's fine to accept Sada and Turo are just really shitty parents who neglected and abandoned Arven instead of pulling the shortest straws in an attempt to make them seem like they were just sad workaholics who got too caught up in their work like a bad hallmark movie

[kurv4]

binghe and mbj entering a psychic war over who is more of a trophy wife

[depresseddepot]

don't know how to describe it without metaphors. audhd feels like I have 10 strings hooked into my body pulling me in opposite directions and leaning towards one string to try and "fix" that problem (cooking, cleaning, classwork, etc) just makes the other strings pull tighter and hurt more. this point of this whole post is to explain that when I see someone older than me who also struggles with exactly the same things to the same extent that I do, it makes a couple of those strings loosen and stop pulling. not forever, because they always start pulling again, but having the expectation lifted of needing to have a "normal functioning life" by age whatever is so nice. everything still hurts but for now at least that part of my brain can rest.

[itsbeginningtostart]

9am timeslot let's go. :~) At the halfway dinner I proposed the idea of getting myself a mobile phone assuring them I would just pay more because I'm one of the top earners here. The host shot it down immediately. Apparently the rule specifically stated that mobile phones were just not allowed in general which is??? Like it's 2024? Anyway, 5G or whatever. I skimmed the rule the first time because there are 17 pages stapled together, front and back except for the last one. But they brought me aside later to tell me that if I make it to one month here, I can buy myself a laptop if I want. So I'm gonna do that lol.

[teaboot]

I feel like if you're using a lot of disposable plastic bags in your day to day life, you've gotta do something sustainable to make up for it. Like using bamboo toilet paper or eco friendly cat litter or something, yknow

Honestly I exaggerate for comedic effect, while I DO routinely use ziplock bags to hold spaghetti I cook maybe once a month and the bag itself is usually for freezer storage. I actually throw out maybe one bag a week? I DO hate washing plates and tupperware and junk but that usually just means I eat sandwiches without a plate.

I agree though that needless waste should be avoided, and I do avoid it- biodegradable bags and recyclables, empty butter tubs used to store leftovers, etc.

This said, though, not applicable necessarily for myself but for a lot of others- I feel that it's importat to remember that there are many people who legitimately NEED things like plastic straws, or catheters, or pre-packaged foods

And the idea that that's a moral failing that individuals need to personally make up for when a single billionaire blows out more CO2 in a long weekend than I will in my whole life on a superjet meet-cute in the Bolivian rainforest between humvee drag races funded by the river-polluting textiles plants they planted in a third world country to avoid EPA laws and give an entire village stillbirths and stomach cancer is an idea that those very same bigwigs have spent a LOT of time and money investing in planting in the public psyche.

Like- Glass bottles are infinitely recyclable, so why are so many drinks in plastic now? Loads of drinks manufacturers used to buy them back and clean them for re-use, so why did they stop? If they chose to make something out of a limited and environmentally irresponsible material, why is it my failing to track down a correct process of disposal for them? What if there are none in my area? Do I lobby for more recycling plants in my area? Do I set aside some of my limited time outside the pain factory of my job- which I have more than one of, thanks to rising costs of things just like that drink I just emptied- to properly dispose of this company's waste FOR them?

Say coca-cola just rolled up to your town and started dumping millions of empty plastic bottles in the street, going, "wow, you should really think about building and staffing a recycling depot, it would be really shameful of you to just put these in the trash." When companies purposefully use materials with limited lifespans- because yes, even plastic can only be reused so many times- and tell you it's your own fault if it harms the environment- that's essentially what they're doing, just with more steps.

Yes, its important to be as environmentally concious as we can in our day to day life, but responsible sustainability is not catholicism. We don't get good boy points from our lord and savior Captain Planet every time the average low-income household gathers together to hold hands and repent for a single-use plastic that allows them to access something they need.

Entire families could eat trees and shit dead lithium batteries for years and still not do as much damage to the planet as an average dye plant or braindead celebrity does in a week just for fun, and I'm mad about it

...this went on longer than intended.

TL/DR: DO recycle and minimize waste, but don't beat yourself up over the little waste you can't avoid, and follow the money.

EDIT: Part 2

[writersdrug]

Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway

Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/

OMG wait I soooo want to try that-

The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.

"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.

"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."

"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.

"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"

He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"

"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"

"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.

"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"

Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."

You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"

He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.

"You think it'd sell?"

"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."

He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."

You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.

Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.

You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.

However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.

"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.

"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.

"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."

He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."

"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.

"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.

You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."

Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).

You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.

You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.

"Tastes like a mule."

"But it looks like a potion, right?"

"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"

You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.

Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.

Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.

He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.

Hus phone buzzes.

Price: ??

Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media

Soap: clever girl

Soap: what drink?

Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.

Soap: picture?

Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?

Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-

Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.

Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.

Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.

You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.

Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.

His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.

Price: Cute thing, isn't she?

Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.

"Fuckin' wot?"

[gungoo4lifer]

O GOT SO JSPPY WHEN İ SAW THE NOTİFİCATİON PLSSSSSS i was startimg to get hungry. Thank you for the food. Ate every single crumb. Licked the plate clean. ATE the plate.

since we got a gungoo moment in the newest chapter along with goo's appearance... the gungooer demands a gungoo fic. 😈

You are most definitely The gungooer! Just when I thought about turning off my ask box cos my inactivity is getting dire on here (by my standards) and my requests are going unanswered because inspiration is not what it once was...

Gun Park x Goo Kim: Steal

Goo steals his clothes.

Mocks his style, the dull and drab palettes. Not flashy enough. Material too coarse. Tailoring rushed and unskilled.

Nitpicks at imaginary flaws. The high end brands that are still too low end for him.

Takes them anyway. A tie, a shirt. An entire suit, a whole outfit. Insists that he wears them better.

Gun disagrees, but he finds it hard to look away. His tie knotted against Goo's throat. His fabrics draping Goo's skin.

.

.

Goo steals kisses.

At stop lights, cheek angled towards the irate passenger. Cars honking when the countdown to green has long gone. Mischievous and grinning wide, refusing to budge until the toll has been paid.

Hidden and covered under an umbrella. Sheltered from the rainstorm and the world. Petrichor rising, mingled with aftershave and blood of dying enemies.

A peck, a brush of lips. Teasing, playful.

You are unprofessional, Gun tells him, lips swollen and kiss bruised.

You're a fucking idiot, Gun says. Retreats back into his seat and Goo drives on. Revs to sixty in no time at all, smug and pleased.

Goo always gets his way.

.

.

Gun steals quiet moments of peace.

Hard fought for silence where they can just be. Just exist without expectation.

Where he can look. And touch. And appreciate.

Walking shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing together. Hands-

Searching for each other in the blackness of night. Bodies sweat sheened and mouths panting.

Goo reading and distracted. Focused on his books and his fictional characters and the plot unravelling.

Gun studies his sharp profile like a textbook. The disarming intelligence in his eyes. Glasses slipping down his nose, long fingers readjusting.

Hands calloused and talented. For fighting and other things. Left more scars on his body than he cares to count. Touched him more times than he cares to remember.

No. That's a lie. He remembers each and every time.

.

.

They've stolen each other's present.

Would have stolen each other's past too, if only they had met sooner.

Was fated to have always crossed paths. In this life-

Maybe before, maybe the next.

No doubt will take each other's future too.

Choke it, shatter it. Drench it in violence and scars and bruises and-

Death.

It's a sure thing. A certainty. Death by the other's hand. Whispering their name, broken and diminished, one last time.

Can't exist with or without the other. A fitting end to their strange relationship.

It's only in their nature.

Or-

Maybe-

Perhaps-

A future with a fractured, fragile peace.

A co-existence in a way that only they know. One they have carved out for themselves. Survival, of the fittest with the fittest.

Two beta fishes, two silverbacks.

Still full of violence and brutality. But-

A future together.

Where they can continue to steal time for each other.

[lizzy019]

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────

Simon Riley who definitely swoons every time he sees you angry or upset. He likes seeing that furrow of your brow, your comebacks and the fury in your tone. It's somehow extremely hot to him, despite him not knowing why. He doesn't admit this to you, ever.

Simon Riley who was super hesitant to take off his mask around you. Sure, he knew he could trust you, but he was nervous. Would you even like it? The scarring, the cuts, the busted lip of his and the eye bags hidden under his warpaint? But when he took it off, he was assured he looked handsome by you showering him in kisses and loving words. (He probably got shy after.)

Simon Riley who can't cook for shit, but would definitely like to learn for you. If you can cook or if you can't, he will do his best to learn a few simple dishes so he could say that he's a decent cook.

Simon Riley who hates when you mock his accent sometimes. But he never does anything to retort or defend himself, he takes your teasing because he knows you enjoy it. Though, it does end in some fun and playful wrestling, often ending in laughing fits and some good cuddles after.

Simon Riley who can't stand your shower routine. He absolutely hates the way you clean yourself, and he often convinces you that he should clean you himself. While you don't know how to feel about this, you smile as he gently lathers soap on your body. Just don't expect this to be a one-way thing, he wants to be pampered a little too.

Simon Riley who loves cats so much that he adopted 4 strays. He got them all checked at the vet, paid whatever amount of money to get them their shots, prescriptions, proper food, etc. He'd definitely pamper the little furballs like they were his children.

Simon Riley who probably owns a really nice suit, but never got it tailored after his military work. Every time he puts it on, he winces because the sleeves of the jacket are too tight. You have to convince him that it looks better, that there's more muscle definition while he wears it. It was his favourite outfit after that.

Simon Riley who would wholeheartedly give you the most random massage. Like- full on massage. His warm hands were definitely the most heavenly thing you've ever felt, and the little callouses and cuts on his fingers just made everything more perfect.

Simon Riley who doesn't know how to handle you when you're on your period. He gets you snacks, drinks, blankets, your heating pad, some extra sanitary things, but he doesn't know how to handle your mood swings. One minute, you're all cuddly and sad, and the next it seems he's done something wrong and you're mad at him. But then you're laughing?

Simon Riley who adores when you need his help with opening jars, reaching things on higher shelves, doing a load of laundry while you do something else, it makes him feel useful. But just don't tell him to do the dishes, he probably dropped one or two and they broke.

Simon Riley who literally sleeps with a rock hard pillow. He can't sleep on a fluffy pillow, they hurt his neck. But he LOVES a springy bed and a thick duvet blanket. You don't understand why, neither does he.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I intentionally included an allergen in some food so a racist couldn't eat it?

I (21M, white) recently found out that I have to attend a Thanksgiving meal with a terrible fucking person. My boyfriend "Tim" wants to go to his old roommate's/best friend's (Jacob) Thanksgiving. Jacob is great! He and Tim have been friends since they were kids, and Tim used to spend a lot of time at Jacob's house since his own home life was... not great. And Jacob's immediate family is wonderful, as well. However, Jacob's uncle "Dickwad" is racist. I went to Jacob's Thanksgiving last year and Dickwad was a dickwad. It started out okay, he and I talked about cars, but after a few beers Dickwad was very clearly racist. He also kept bragging about how he threatened a homeless man with a gun (the homeless man was trying to break into his car - it's pretty common in this area) and called him several racist derogatory terms. He never said the N-word, but it was only a matter of time, so I left quickly.

Well, Tim wants to go again this year. Everyone hates Dickwad but Jacob's parents say they can't NOT invite him since he's their brother. I say cut the bitch off, but it's not my family, and I don't want to leave Tim alone there since Dickwad has been cruel to Tim before (Tim is Asian and queer, but Dickwad thinks me and Tim are just friends and no one is about to tell him differently) and since I don't get to see Jacob that often. The rest of Jacob's family is chill and I know they would be disappointed if I didn't come.

Well, Tim recently informed me that if I'm making something to bring to Thanksgiving, Dickwad is allergic to cumin. How allergic? Not much. He'd get hives if he ate it, but he's fine being near it, touching it, etc. He just can't consume it. Everyone knows I love to cook, and I'm a damn good cook, too. So I'm planning on making something with cumin so Dickwad can't have any, because fuck him, and fuck his guns, too. No one else there is allergic to cumin. I figured if anyone asks, I'll tell them I didn't know/forgot. I asked Jacob what he thought and he thought it would be hilarious and told me to do it. I haven't said anything to Tim because he's a lot nicer and will probably try to stop me.

I don't know if this will get posted in time, but whatever. WIBTA if I put an allergen in food so a racist piece of shit can't eat it?

What are these acronyms?

[russeliarat]

Clearly I very much don't know my limits yet because the urgesTM are back

[fox-guardian]

As funny as it would be for there to be another sans vs reigen standoff, I Do think it'd be really funny if we got Cecil to go all the way. Especially since, in my opinion, he stands the test of time and has come all the way around to the new brand of sexyman.

Like, yes, he was, in WTNV's early days, given the twink treatment. Dapper style, youthful features, etc. But he was never like that canonically.

He dresses horrifically (affectionate), he's canonically an older man even in the podcast's beginning, and he is and never has been a twink (he is neither thin, nor fat. Implying at thinnest, straight-sized, and at biggest, mid-sized).

Obviously this doesn't change the fandom's sexymanification of him, but it does lead him to fit more nicely into the sexyman that the aging tumblr userbase has recently developed:

The Babygirl.

Listen. Apart from the above, he can't cook for shit, he's petty, he's written Jaws slash fic and had his intern beta read it, he is CANONICALLY a dilf, he grows his own weed, he loves his husband So Goddamn Much, he won't shut up about how much he carnally desires said husband, he mentions his kinks on the fucking air, AND HE EVEN HAS A FUCKING TUMBLR.

I think he fits the bill for the pathetic older queer man that tumblr has grown so very Normal about. He is so very powerful. And after ten years of being this way I think he should be allowed to go all the way to the top. I think he's earned it.

Sure, if he doesn't stand a chance in the final four, I'll accept sans vs reigen. But if it gets close enough, say, above 40%.... Maybe we could push to go all the way. For the bit. For one of the original sexymen of tumblr history. For our dear gay uncle, Cecil Gershwin Palmer. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.