#all the puns

[19silvermirrors]

Qijiu discovering the rule of thumb😏

[handsofred]

I want a Derek who still lived in New York for a while before returning to Beacon Hill's, who while in NYC, he learned how to bake and create cakes and once he returned to BH, opens up his own cake/bakery shop and creates custom made cakes for people as well as every day cookies and cupcakes and other yummy goodness.

Maybe Stiles is someone who owns a coffee shop or even a milkshake shop across the street from Derek's Bakes' (or whatever other punny name....same with Stiles' place. (you shake it, we make it) but yeah, he would totally drape himself across the front counter, just staring across the street at this grumpy looking guy who looks like he could bench press Stiles twice...no triple times over. But instead, he sees him baking away, mixing and measuring things out because the bakery is totally that type where there's a small kitchen behind the counter as well as the one out back for the custom cakes because lets face it, despite the bright colours and the cute unicorn cakes and woodland animal cakes that Derek makes for birthdays and etc...he totally makes exotic cakes as well for hen do's and stag nights and just...well for anyone who wants a dirty cake.

I can see maybe Stiles and Derek clashes at first, I can see Erica working for Stiles and Boyd working for Derek and they start hanging out and then dating which brings the boys together...but then someone mentions that they should do a deal...maybe Derek could offer cookies and if someone brought so many, they get a money off voucher for one of Stiles' milkshakes or vice versa....which they reluctantly agree too.

cue this to them actually spending time with each other and Stiles spending time in the back kitchen with Derek when he's baking and one day he walks in while Derek is sculpting a dick cake for a hens party and just blanks. (blue screen of death) His mind just stops at seeing the way Derek's hands spreads the buttercream or is decorating the fine details on this cake cock.

Anyway...time moves on and I can see them ending up dating and everything and just being so cute together that it makes everyone gags. but I can see maybe one day in the future, they end up moving in together and things happen and Derek makes another cake and it's in the fridge at their home or in the shop, maybe Derek and Stiles ends up opening a store together to combine their stores and it's a grand opening or after.

but yeah, I can see that all their friends are there after hours, just enjoying themselves and laughing and joking around. I can see that maybe someone brings out the cock cake and people are enjoying it and Jackson mentions something to Stiles and he replies snarkly so Jackson says something along the lines of sucking his cock.

Stiles would just get this all knowing smirk on his face and asks how Jackson is enjoying the cake and Jackson shrugging and saying that it is good and Stiles just nodding which has Jackson raising his brow before asking what that look means.

And Stiles would just shrug and say that while he would never suck Jackson's cock, that he loves that Jackson loves Stiles' own cock.

cause I can see the cock cake that Derek made was totally modelled from Stiles' cock and Jackson just blanches and everyone is silent before busting out in to laughter.

[jmflowers]

Please dedicate to @lacallemojada

For APF, who underestimates how cute I can make disgusting things. And for Ducks, who humoured me and my ridiculous ideas.

Solemates

One of her socks goes missing the day after she wins gold.

Maya doesn’t notice right away, not until she’s packing her bags to leave the athlete’s village. Not until there’s only one sweaty, blood-covered sock in her pile of dirty clothes.

She looks for it, at first, because she isn’t really thinking about that. Isn’t thinking about anything except how her father probably wants to frame them, wants to hang them above the mantle in the living room as a testament to what a Bishop is capable of.

What a Bishop can win.

What a Bishop can overcome.

She gives up, after a while, when it’s clear there’s no sock to be found. Instead, she shoves her sports bras and her leggings and her training gear into her duffel bag, ignoring the sharp stench of sweat laced into the fabric.

Ignoring the sharp pinch of her ankle in the bandage wrapped around it.

When she steps out of her room for the last time, gold medal hanging heavily around her neck, she doesn’t look back. Doesn’t think too hard about the missing sock.

Doesn’t think at all about dropping the other one in the trash.

~

Carina’s living in Milan when it arrives.

Actually, living in is a generous term. She’s more gravitating, lugging herself between hotel rooms and friends’ couches with only a suitcase to her name.

It hurts too much to put down roots, still.

And she’s not really thinking about what anything means, when it shows up on the bathroom floor. Isn’t thinking anything beyond the grief sticking in her bones.

Or maybe that she should really find better accommodations if the cleaning staff would miss a disgusting, sweaty, bloody sock on the bathroom floor.

But then it does come rushing back, all at once. Her mother’s voice, soft and familiar and comforting, weaving a tale of soulmates and eternity and meant to be.

She isn’t expecting it, when it arrives. Has given up expecting that such a thing is even meant for someone such as her. But she doesn’t deny it, when it appears.

It’s too hard to ignore when it smells so bad.  

~

Her bra goes missing a couple months later, when she’s settled back into the spare room at Gabriella’s. And that Carina does notice right away, because she’d washed it and hung it in the bathroom with the intention of wearing it and the whole draw of moving back in with Gabri is that she doesn’t touch her stuff and –

Gabriella stares at her like she has grown an extra head when she asks. “Why would I take your bra?” she mutters, strolling past into the kitchen, “It wouldn’t fit me.”

She remembers again, then; remembers the sock wrapped in a plastic bag to hide its smell, shoved into the very bottom of her suitcase. It feels unfair, just a little, to know that someone, somewhere in the world, has gotten her nice bra and in return she’s received their disgusting sock.

Their bloody, sweaty, stinky sock.

At least her bra was clean.

~

Maya finds it in her pack while she’s sorting through her things on a hostel bed in Nepal.

She pales instantly, shoving it into the open pocket to hide it from her bunk mate. Shakti has been too intrigued by everything Maya has done in the last few days they’ve been together – from brushing her hair to doing sit ups on the floor.

Shakti doesn’t need to see the rather lacey bralette that’s somehow magically appeared in Maya’s pack.

Unless Shakti is the one…

No, Maya thinks instantly, there’s no way. It must’ve been one of the other girls, one of the other many people she’s crossed paths with in the last week of her travels.

A funny joke.

The fabric is soft beneath her fingers, despite the lace. Warm, almost.

And tiny; far too small to fit her own breasts.

She keeps it without much more thought, wondering if maybe she’ll cross paths with the girl who put it there. Wondering if maybe she’ll get a bit of practice removing it from the body it belongs to.

She doesn’t think about what the appearance of an undergarment is supposed to mean.

~

Andy gushes about it years later, grinning over a shot glass on her front porch.

She’d found her sock as a child, tucked beneath the covers of her bed. She thinks it belongs to Ryan, Maya knows, thinks the flirty glances they’ve been sharing across the front lawns of their parents’ houses mean they’re meant to be.

It all sounds ridiculous to Maya, though. Too far-fetched to be true.

Even if Vic has found one, too. An undershirt, stained with sweat, buried in the bottom of her gym bag while she was at the academy.  

“I bet that means he’s in really good shape,” Andy suggests, smirking salaciously.

“What about you, Bishop?” Vic asks, handing over another shot of vodka.

Maya laughs, throwing it back quickly, drinking away the memory of soft lace beneath her fingers. “Monogamy is for the weak,” she declares loudly, eyes shifting to Andy’s face and the sharp fall of her smile. “Or the very, very dedicated.”

“Not quite monogamy,” Vic challenges, glancing off towards the approaching form of Ryan.

“Yeah,” Andy whispers, “It’s soulmates.”

~

She doesn’t think about it, when Maya’s warm hand slides into her own, a drink and a story hovering between them. Doesn’t think about it when they talk on the phone, or over dinner, or beneath the covers of Maya’s bed.

Carina doesn’t even think about it when Maya shows her the gold medal for the first time, her fingers soft and her kisses softer.

In fact, she forgets about it at all until she shoves her hand into the bottom drawer of her dresser, searching for the last of her things to pack, and lands on the plastic bag instead.

She knows what’s inside without looking. Remembers the sweat stains and the blood and the smell. It’s ridiculous, to have hauled it along with her for all these years.

Ridiculous, that she drops it into the box alongside the rest of her clothes, destined for their new home with Maya.

~

Carina is very good at packing, Maya finds, but less so at unpacking.

Her boxes of things litter every surface of their newly-shared apartment, the only indication of Carina’s organization the carefully written labels stating that they are, at least, in the right rooms. Like the box of toiletries in the corner of the bathroom.

Or the one that’s taken up residence on top of the dresser instead of in it.

Maya starts there, carefully extracting articles of clothing Carina has deemed okay to be folded. Her other things – the nicer things – have already been hung safely in the bedroom closet, Maya’s own collection of rarely-worn dresses and jackets relegated down the hall to the living room.

She stops when she reaches the bottom, confused by the plastic bag nestled amidst Carina’s intimates. It smells a bit, even though it’s been carefully wrapped up, completely out of place within the gentle scent of Carina’s laundry detergent.

“Carina?” she calls before she can think better of it, before she can even really register what it might be, “Is this yours?”

“Oh,” Carina murmurs when she appears in the doorway, a spatula still in her hands. She lowers it slowly, considering.

“Is this yours?” Maya asks again.

Carina frowns. “Sort of,” she nods, “It’s my… sock.”

“Oh,” Maya repeats, glancing down at it in her hands, “Oh.”

“You can throw it out,” Carina suggests, turning back towards the kitchen, “I don’t need it.”

“Hey, wait,” Maya calls after her, following, still clutching the offending object tightly. “How long have you had this?”

Carina shrugs, suddenly indifferent as she resumes unpacking her kitchen boxes, carefully arranging items in drawers. She’s good at it, now that she’s trying to deflect.

“You don’t even want to open it?” Maya offers. “One last time?”

Carina shakes her head. “I don’t need to.” She looks up, smiling softly, effortlessly yanking the breath from Maya’s lungs when she promises, “I love you, Maya.”

“Besides,” she adds on as an afterthought, waving her hand between them as though dismissing it, “It’s stinky and sweaty and covered with blood. I should’ve thrown it out years ago.”

“Now I have to see it,” Maya laughs, grabbing hold of Carina’s wrist to pull her closer.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Carina argues, tipping into Maya’s arms, “I am still choosing you, bambina.”

“But what if we’re sole mates,” Maya chuckles anyways, teasing even as Carina’s words send a flood of butterflies through her stomach. “What if it’s my sock inside this bag?”

“If it is,” Carina whispers, nuzzling closer, “I’d like my own sock drawer, because yours are very gross.”

She unwraps it slowly, both of them recoiling slightly as the years-old sweat reaches their noses. It’s plain looking, beneath the blood stains; simple.

Except for the Team USA logo on the toes.

“Oh,” Maya mumbles.

She steps away, slowly at first and then quickly, her feet picking up speed as her mind does. She dashes towards the living room closet, reaching on her tiptoes for the box tucked into a corner on the shelf.

She should’ve known, she thinks. Should’ve considered, that first night. The first time she pulled lace up and away from Carina’s body. The first time Carina’s array of bras appeared along the top of the shower door, hung to dry.

The first time her fingers felt the warmth of soft fabric beneath them.

Maya opens the box slowly, uncovering the bralette she’s kept for all these years.

“Oh,” Carina echoes when she turns. “Oh.”

“My sock,” Maya whispers, stumbling back across the room to Carina’s side, feeling the pull of her like gravity. “My Olympic Gold Medal sock.”

“Now I definitely want my own drawer,” Carina declares, dipping low to capture Maya’s mouth with her own, “And my favourite bra back.”

[thewhetherman]

Kant-ent

[fr3nchtoastcrunch]

So

I was reminiscing about my high school math teacher.

In his room, he had a poster that said: "Math. The only subject that counts."

And only just now did I realize that it's a pun.

I make puns out of the random things all the time, and it took me THAT long to figure that one out.

[dontyoulistentome]

Have any of the poor souls forced off twiiter made any 'my toxic eX' jokes yet?

[solarclaw]

This is how I imagine canon sans' humor really is: Punny, but also clever

comic sans comic

Thank you for reading!

EDIT because people keep missing my footnote in the page itself: the top two panels in the "unfortunately [...] a haiku" page are a reference to THIS comic!

[adapperblob]

We arive in the bug crabapple and get roped into a treasure hunt that definitely is real and absolutely not nonsense!

[atalana]

but seriously i do find it so funny that ford was like OH GOD MY PRECIOUS REPUTATION after bill possessed him around other people for all of one night

and then he gets back to this dimension after thirty years and this is now the photo the press associates with his name

[thatfandomshit]

My main takeaway from the Agatha All Along finale is that Kathryn Hahn will be cracking jokes over Joe Locke’s shoulder for the entirety of Young Avengers and I could not be happier

[holyenemybasement]

without hrt christmas is just cismas

[thunderboltfire]

I spent definitely too much time pondering over unfortunate double meaning of the consume option on soap XD (wersja PL)

[murasaki-cha]

Honestly Wade and Logan could have kissed on the mouth and I would have just gone "Eh not the gayest thing they've done so far"

[tentacleteapot]

are you familiar with Articuno, the legendary Pokémon that’s a combination Ice-type and Flying-type? well, this is the end of the pointy crest thing at the top of its head.

and that’s just the tip of the ice bird…

[bixels]

The Piedra sisters.

Born and raised in a small mining town in New Mexico. Calida and María Molina have stayed behind to support their parents while Rosita and Madelina have gone off to pursue their dreams. Madelina recently obtained her Ph.D. in geology from Las Cruces College. Rosita works as a baking apprentice and entertainer in Ponyville, Nebraska. Madelina is the eldest, Calida the middle child, and Rosita and María Molina (non-identical) twins.

[markscherz]

BOOPHIS SNOOT!

Specifically, an undescribed Boophis from the B. goudotii species group that I discovered in 2015/2016.