#I’m stressed!!

[transannabeth]

i’m sitting outside a mcdonald’s instead of driving into work because of car engine issues. please send asks

[poke-checked]

How we feeling about this game gang

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[ilovethepayne]

USA women’s water polo please!! 🤞🙏

[pangur-and-grim]

I do have good social awareness in conversations, but only in observing the results. if that makes sense? like I’m throwing stuff out blindly, but I’m good at judging whether it is received positively or negatively, and adjusting accordingly. I can see the pluses and minuses forming in their air above their head

[paracosmicka]

have doodle lol

functionally, i am alive, emotionally?? idk about that work has me crying almost everyday now chat idk if i can do this anymore

[mrroxs-workshop]

Based of a shrimpo army run i was in.

[gleafer]

How the holidays are going:

[isatohlee]

Everyone deserves the comfort of another

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.

[clownsuu]

bullying ford just for funzies 💥🥄

cw, the tiniest amount of blood/body horror

[yunevan-n]

"Why can’t I go in myself?- Uh, well Swansea trained you Daisuke, obviously."

"…"

"I won’t be too far away..!"

[gatoburr0]

I HATE how this turned out WITH A PASSION.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

[cupophrogs]

BLUNT NOT THE HEART, ENRAGE IT

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No text :p

[simselfs]

god how does anyone play this game for more than 30 minutes