#and by that i mean burn and undercook everything

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

out of curiosity did the zombeh attack ever happen in this world? if so do any of them remember it or how would they feel about it? if not what would you believe would happen if so?

well...

one of my favorite things about eddsworld is how it uses the classic cartoon trope of everyone dying at the end of an episode and then being totally fine by the next one. fuck continuity!

the zombeh attacks definitely did happen. at some point. in some reality. i guess i would say, Edd, Tom, Matt, and Tord remember what happened in the eddisodes. outside of that...

they're not really sure.

Text:

Tord: Remember that zombie apocalypse?

Tom: No.

Matt: Ugh, don't remind me!

Edd: Oh, that was a BLAST!

Td: How did it... uh... end again?

Tm: Oh I have to be WAY drunker for this

SFX: FWOOM

[briarberrythornedhart]

Pinned down

Wayne Munson didn’t like cooking or baking or putting much effort into eating at all. Wayne would eat a bowl of cereal for every meal if he could.

Except - if the cookery involved open flames. Then, suddenly he transformed from the kinda guy who would push through a Hungryman tv dinner that was cold in the center to a gourmet foodie snob.

“Don’t turn that chicken yet, Sonny-jim, let it get the good grill marks.”

“I thought I was grilling tonight?” Eddie complained. “Go relax in a lawn chair, old man.”

“I thought you were grilling tonight too, but if you don’t focus and stop checking out your friend in the short shorts over there, you’re gonna undercook the sausage and burn the chicken.” Wayne Munson was at ease from two PBR’s on an empty ‘don’t want to ruin my appetite’ stomach and the sass that came standard with the Munson Make/Models was out on display.

“We are more than Friends. And I’m very focused.” Eddie said through gritted teeth.

“Gimme that...” Wayne held out his hand for the tongs and gave them a satisfying click click when Eddie passed them over. “...lemme take over so you can go spend time with your ‘more than friend’ and stop ruining the food. Maybe go lock that down? Hmmm? Before Gentleman Jeff get’s here with his nice new post-braces smile and his excellent table manners?? Or Harrington get’s here with his gravity defying hair and his trust fund?”

Eddie was making an annoyed face when he sidled up to you under the shitty gazebo where you were laying out the deviled eggs, the potato salad and the very special homemade cookies you’d baked because Eddie said he loved peanut butter cookies ONE time and you listened.

“Everything okay?” You asked. “You look kinda put out.”

“Nooo... My Uncle seems to think I don’t have you ‘locked down.”

That made you laugh. But Eddie’s face was stone serious

“I guess we’ve been quieter at night than I thought?” You said all arch and flirty.

“I’ve been quiet.” Eddie asserted, tried to look innocent.

“No you haven't, babe.” You shook your head, offered him a cookie, he declined. Clearly worried about something. Too worried for pre-dinner cookies??

“I think Wayne thinks I should ‘pin’ you.”

“Oh - you do that all the time.” You grinned, lasciviously.

“No, you know what I mean. Make it official. Or give you a.... ring?” Eddie toyed with his warthog ring - looking at you very seriously. “Is it too soon? Are you not sure about me yet?”

“Want me to get ‘Eddie’ tattooed on me - someplace strategically visible?” You were not kidding.

“You’d do that for me?”

You leaned towards Eddie and whispered, like this was secret knowledge. “I’m pretty locked down.”

“You tell me you’re mine at night, but I want everyone to know it.” Eddie licked his upper lip and took off his WASP pin - and when you nodded - he gently pinned it on your t-shirt near the collar. He kissed your cheek and said “Now, you’re mine.”

You took out one of your new dangly Ankh earrings and swapped it with Eddie’s ear stud. You kissed his neck below his earlobe. “Now, you’re mine.” You said.

Eddie undid his chain bracelet and tried to put it on you, but it was a hair too big, he ended up loosening it and putting it on your ankle.

You took off your adjustable silver snake ring and widened it up to fit on his left pinky.

Your friends started to show up to the party. Eddie whispered in your ear “I’ll pin you more later.”

[fixaidea]

So here's the thing: I don't usually engage with or care about top/bottom discourse EXCEPT when I think it's funny, sooo...

Let's do some Science and examine Pingxie in a Very Serious Manner.

To do this, first let's take a look at some data gathered from all the danmei novels and shows I know (relevant for calibration you know, since they have actual canon top/bottom dynamics.)

SVSSS

Shen Qingqiu - Since his cause of death wasn't starvation we can assume - well, at least hope - that he can make instant noodles, if nothing else, but he will absolutely avoid having to cook if he can help it.

Luo Binghe - As the Protagonist he of course has to be The Bestest at everything (...except sex, apparently) and it's mentioned that both Bingge and Bingmei use their culinary skills to woo the people they want to sleep with. He's also the top, even though everyone involved would be better off if he wasn't.

MDZS

Lan Wangji - Becomes a pretty decent cook, as per the extras. Prefers to top.

Wei Wuxian - It's not like he's incompetent, he doesn't burn or undercook the food, it's just that his taste is so extreme that his dishes are basically inedible to anyone else.

TGCF

Hua Cheng - No special talent for cooking, but at least he's not actively dangerous. There's no on-page sex scene in the novel, but it's made obvious that he tops.

Xie Lian - Biohazard. Weapons-grade culinary anti-talent. Gastronomy's answer to Vogon poetry.

Golden Stage

Ulike in most of the other novels on the list, food doesn't really have much symbolic meaning and not much is said about either Fu Shen's or Yan Xiaohan's cooking skills, exept for a brief mention of Fu Shen pickling eggs to pass the time. This is a rare couple that canonically switches.

Guardian

Zhao Yunlan - This man considers instant noodles cooked with coffee an okay way to surprise a boyfriend. He really wouldn't mind topping, which he keeps lamenting throughout the book, but he's paired with Shen Wei who might just have the strongest set preference out of everyone on this list.

Shen Wei - Likes to dote on Zhao Yunlan by cooking for him and is genuinely very good at it.

Word of Honor (mind, I have only watched the show here)

Zhou Zishou - Can keep himself alive, but left to his own devices would probably make due with charred-and-yet-undercooked fish or something.

Wen Kexing - A competent cook. While obviously not detailed in the drama I looked it up (or asked someone, I can't remember) and he's the top here.

Erha

Chu Wanning - Perfected exactly one (1) dish, is rather... unfortunate otherwise. You could not pay this man to top.

Mo Ran - Excellent cook. Actually worked in a kitchen at one point in his life, giving and receiving food is basically his main love-language.

Now that we have examined these canon couples and have drawn all the relevant conclusions, let's apply what we learned to our non-danmei, might-as-well-be-canon-but-isn't ship.

Wu Xie - Can cook just fine both in the novel and the drama-verse even if it doesn't come up too often. In the first season he cooks up a pretty decent feast for his friends and in the Yucun books he helps come up with the dishes they would serve in their restaurant.

Zhang Qiling - The entire Thing of this poor sod as a character is that he knows how to survive but not how to live. Taking the time to prepare nice meals or cook anything beyond basic sustenance just... doesn't fit that picture.

So.

I rest my case.

[devildom-moss]

hiii! i just saw your requests are open and imagine my excitement!! bcs aaa i rlly really love your writings💕💕theyre such a treat to read, the shenanigans and character interactions are so captivatingly written that i am: Smitten

could i req: a short platonic fic where luke teaches you (gn!mc), a chronic instant noodles eater++kitchen-illiterate person, how to cook?

i think it wud be a funny sight for the rest of purgatory hall getting to see this lil angel easily navigate a stove/handles a knife while the actual adult is struggling not to mix sugar nd salt (also ik he mostly bakes but im of the mind that canon was meant to be ignored HAHA and besides theres not enough fics of luke gettin to be mc's guardian angel)

please tag me @diodellet too, thank you (not to rush u or anyth, by all means take your time to work your magic, writing words gets hard smtimes) 💕💕💕i hope you have a wonderful day and remember to hydrate!!

Thank you so much! That’s so sweet! I hope you’ll like it. I'm sorry that it got a little (or a lot) longer than I intended, but it was a really cute idea. @diodellet

Luke teaching a kitchen-illiterate gn!MC to cook

“You know, MC,” Simeon mused, handing you a sandwich, “I’d like to try your home cooking someday.”

The members of Purgatory Hall had invited you to a picnic – Simeon and Luke prepared all the food. Solomon offered to help them, but Simeon insisted that since it was Luke’s idea to have a picnic that day, Luke should be responsible for the cooking. However, as Luke’s guardian, Simeon had to be there to help. Usually, Luke would have protested being treated like a child, but if it got Solomon out of the kitchen, he’d tolerate it.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Solomon laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Raphael asked.

“MC doesn’t cook,” Solomon informed everyone on your behalf.

“What?” Luke was shocked. “Why not? What do you do when it’s your day to cook? I thought you and those demons split the chores up.”

“I usually just order out or get some of those pre-made meals. Honestly, we eat a lot of instant food when I’m on cooking duty. I can’t really do much without ruining the food.”

“You’re joking, right?” Simeon chuckled, but when you failed to laugh along, his face stiffened up. “Right?”

“Nope, they’re completely lost in the kitchen. Asmo told me that he tried to teach them how to make an omelet and everything inside was undercooked and cut into huge, uneven chunks. They even burned the eggs,” Solomon told on you.

“Oh, you’re one to insult someone’s cooking.” You narrowed your eyes at him before turning back to the bewildered angels. “But he’s right. I’m pretty incompetent in the kitchen. No one ever really taught me, and they’re not usually patient enough for me to learn.”

“That’s unacceptable, MC!” Luke shouted. “You need to be able to cook. What if you get sick from poor nutrition? Besides, cooking is fun. I’ll teach you.”

“Luke, you don’t have to do that. That sounds like it will be a lot of trouble for you.” You declined his offer, worried that he was simply pitying you.

“Nonsense! I insist! If you don’t learn, I’ll always be worried about you eating right or getting hurt in the kitchen. Just come for one lesson. If you hate it, we’ll figure something else out. Please?”

“Okay,” you admitted defeat. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Good.” Luke grinned. “Come to Purgatory Hall tomorrow afternoon.”

Simeon greeted you at the door that afternoon, a bright smile on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here. Luke has been up since early morning getting ready for your arrival.”

“Simeon!” Luke shouted at him, flushed with embarrassment. “It wasn’t that early. Come in, MC. Raphael made you an apron last night, so he’s still asleep.”

You put on the well-made and rather adorable apron and followed Luke to the kitchen. Jars of spices and nearly a dozen fruits and vegetables were set out on the counter. Luke went through the trouble of picking out produce that he had seen you eat before and ones that weren’t especially difficult to prepare or handle.

“Uhm, so,” you drew out the “o” sound while you scrambled to figure out what he had planned, but you were at a loss. “What are we making today?”

“Take a guess.”

“Salad?” you responded, uncertain of your guess.

“No – but that would have been a good beginner meal, too. We’re making soup – well, actually, curry.” Luke beamed at you, quite proud of his choice. “Curry is highly customizable. We can make it mild or spicy to suit your tastes, we can make it vegan or vegetarian, and you can change up the ingredients with the seasons. And there’s nothing more comforting and loving than making soup for yourself and those you care about.”

“Is curry a soup?” you questioned him.

“Well, let’s not get into that.” Simeon laughed awkwardly. He turned to Luke and pat him on the head gently. “I’m leaving MC in your hands, Luke. Be a good little teacher and call me over if you need help with anything.”

“Simeon! I’ve got this,” Luke whined and began pushing Simeon out of the kitchen from behind. Simeon waved goodbye to you during his forceful expulsion.

You put your hand to your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing or cracking a smile at how cute they were. When Luke returned guardian-less he symbolically dusted his hands off and instructed, “okay, we both need to wash our hands before we start cooking. Then we’ll wash all the produce you want to use.”

“Yessir,” you saluted him in jest before following orders. With clean hands, you perused the options.

Among other ingredients, there were two varieties of Devildom mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, revelation tomatoes, ghost pumpkin, and putrid pineapple. Your eyes landed on a deep red stalk. You picked it up. “What’s this one, Luke, some kind of Devildom celery?”

Luke blinked at you in amazement. “That’s rhubarb. It’s a human world vegetable. Solomon decided to grow some.”

“O-oh,” you set it down, embarrassed and half-expecting Luke to laugh.

“That’s okay. It does fit in with Devildom fruit and vegetables, doesn’t it?” Luke smiled at you innocently.

“I guess so. How many fruits and vegetables should I pick?”

“A couple. Add what you think will taste good. I’ll let you know if you make any awful choices, but I trust you.”

Something about his confidence in the face of your absolute lack of skill was comforting – like it was unlikely that you would fail, and if you might, he’d guide you away from a Solomon-level disaster. You grabbed the ghost pumpkin, chickpeas, red peppers, and a Devildom variety of chili pepper. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that will be great.”

“Is there anything you want to add, Luke?”

“Let’s add some revelation tomatoes! Barbatos brought these over just yesterday and they look amazing. We should add garlic and shallots or onions, too. Those are usually a given in curry, though.”

“I’m learning already,” you smiled through your words.

Luke watched over you diligently. After showing you the proper technique, he kept an eye out as you minced the garlic and shallots. He even corrected your hand position before he let you cut anything, ensuring that your fingers were curled or at least out of the way. It was adorable to hear him call the curled hand position the “cat paw.” In its own way, it was also pretty cute to watch a little angel holding a big knife. When you finished cutting up your half of the roasted pumpkin a good minute after Luke had finished his, it looked disappointing. Although, to be fair, Simeon and Solomon popping their head out from the hall to get a peak into the kitchen was a bit distracting.

“It’s kind of a mess compared to yours,” you noted, sheepishly.

“That’s okay.” Luke grinned and scooped your pumpkin pieces into the bowl with his. “They’re all about the same size, and there’s no seeds on them. They’ll cook up fine, and once they’re in the curry, no one will notice if they weren’t cut up that nicely as long as the food tastes good.”

You were taken aback by his optimism and sweetness – and so was whoever took a sharp inhale from the living room.

You and Luke were halfway through cutting the peppers and the aromatics were already in the pot along with a roux – adjusted to your spice level – when Solomon entered the kitchen. “Mind if I help you out in here?”

“Oh, no thank you.” You shook your head and added the coconut milk into the pot as Luke had instructed. “Luke’s doing a great job teaching me.”

“I’m a great cook,” he lied, mostly to himself, “I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.”

“They said ‘no,’ Solomon. We can do this ourselves.”

“Come on,” Solomon tried to persuade you both.

“I’m bonding with Luke, so no.”

That was enough to shut Solomon up. He couldn’t bring himself to come between yours and Luke’s bonding time. “Can we at least come in and watch?”

“’We?’” you questioned him.

“It’s so boring trying to watch from the living room. Simeon couldn’t see well when you accidentally turned on the back burner and wondered why the pot hadn’t heated up after 5 minutes. It was really funny.”

“Your stove is different than the one at the House of Lamentation, you rude old wizard.”

“Come on, it was also really cute, MC.”

“As cute as one of your wizard staffs giving you a prostate exam?” You narrowed your eyes at him. Luke decided to tune out your fighting as he dumped the vegetables and chickpeas into the water.

“Maybe, but that’s a bit kinky to mention in front of Luke.” Solomon laughed and turned away. “Anyway, I’m going to get the others.”

“It was an insult you dirty old–” you started, but it was too late; he was already down the hall – and you didn’t actually have an insult on hand. Luke sighed and shook his head at you two. It wasn’t like he was above bickering, but no one should argue in a kitchen.

“While we have a minute, the last thing we need to cut up is the revelation tomato. We need to give it a secret, something good. I think we should both tell it a secret, what do you think, MC?”

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You looked at Luke’s adorable face as you took the tomato and made your choice. “Dear tomato, Luke is a really good teacher, and I’m glad he offered to teach me because I’m pretty useless in the kitchen. It’s usually embarrassing and pretty scary, but not when Luke is here to help. I’m really proud of him. And I know we’re not done with the dish yet, but I’m proud of myself, too – at least a bit.”

You handed the tomato to Luke. Sure, it wasn’t the juiciest of secrets, but you were happy with it. It felt right – like how the vegetables you picked out felt right or how the spices you added felt right. Luke stepped into the corner to whisper his secret to the tomato.

Luke had just finished telling the tomato his secret when Simeon, Raphael, and Solomon piled into the kitchen.

“So, how’s it going?” Simeon asked sweetly.

“MC’s doing a great job,” Luke bragged on your behalf while you focused on dicing the tomato. Whatever secret Luke had shared, the combination of both of your secrets had combined to make a perfectly juicy tomato that was fragrant and slightly sweet.

“Smells good,” Raphael commented.

“Thank you, Raph. And thank you for the apron. It’s cute.”

“No problem. I’m glad you didn’t cut any fingers off or get any blood on it.” Everyone ignored his grim comment. “You should take it home with you for when you cook for the brothers. I can always make you an apron specifically for here.”

“We could have matching aprons, MC!” Luke almost jumped with joy before restraining himself. He added, timidly, “Of course, that’s only if you want to have more cooking lessons.”

“I’d love to, Luke.”

You added the tomatoes into the pot, gave it a stir, turned the heat down, and added the lid on to allow the curry to simmer. Luke clapped his hands together and said, “Excellent. Lunch will be ready soon. I prepared some rice to go along with it.”

“When did you have time to do that?” you asked, stunned by what seemed to be the sudden appearance of a rice cooker on one of the counters. How had you not heard that going?

“While you were chopping vegetables.”

“Well, I’ll go set the table.” Simeon was reluctant to leave the precious sight of you and Luke in the kitchen. He never imagined you’d be so lost, nor did he imagine that Luke would make such an excellent teacher. Still, at least he would have the opportunity to see his favorite angel sorry Raphael and favorite human not sorry Solomon cooking together again.

“I’ll get some Demonus and some juice for Luke.” Raphael took his leave.

With every bowl filled, you stared around the table nervously. Who should take the first bite? What if it was awful? Confident, Luke dug in. You watched him carefully.

“This is good – if I do say so myself. You did a great job, MC.”

“It’s delicious,” Simeon added with a grin.

“Asmo would never believe that you made this,” Solomon offered his backhanded compliment. “I’m going to take a picture and share it on Devilgram. I should caption it ‘Thank you Luke and MC for making lunch.’”

“Good job, you two.” Raphael nodded.

“I couldn’t have done this without Luke.” All the praise was starting to get embarrassing, so you turned to Luke. “Thank you so much for teaching me.”

Luke was grinning from ear to ear. He could ace all his exams and he still wouldn’t feel prouder than he was now.

Bonus:

Luke’s secret:

“I’m so happy that I can finally help MC with something. They’re always helping me out, and I don’t get to repay the favor very often. I’m worried about them being alone, but if they can cook, that’s one less thing I have to worry about. I hope I can keep teaching them, and they’ll think of me as someone they can rely on.”

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to finally get to another request. I've been kind of out of it, and instead of committing to one request and finishing it, I started like 4 at once. I'll try to get on with the others soon, though.

[torchmlp]

Quarry ask! Which of the counselors do you think can cook, and which do you think are so bad at it, they could burn water?

Oooh this is a fun ask!

The obvious one who can cook would be Nick since he worked in the kitchen all summer. And I think he'd be really good at it. Obviously his ingredient choices would be limited at camp, but I bet he has a spice rack at home with everything in it, including those spices that no one has ever heard of. Whenever the counselors get together (I fully believe they would have potluck style get togethers), everyone always devours whatever Nick brings. In other words, get that boy a Kiss The Cook apron.

Abi I think would have a basic understanding of cooking. She can make most meals and can follow recipes without issue. I don't think she'd be into any of the real fancy stuff, though, preferring to make simpler meals. She cooks in bulk and then has a lot of leftovers so she doesn't have to worry about cooking every day.

Emma also has basic cooking skills, but I think she'd be more willing to experiment with different things, like looking up recipes online to try if they sound interesting. And then maybe she records it for her followers.

I think for Jacob and Kaitlyn (childhood bffs my beloved) it'd be really funny if Jacob was the one who could cook out of the two of them. And like, he's surprisingly good at it, not Nick levels of good, but still really good. Maybe he had to learn how to make healthy meals for himself when he was in sports because nutrition is important (it's not gonna stop him from splurging on peanut butter butterpops, though). He can also bake really well.

Kaitlyn, if left to her own devices, would eat cheap ramen every day. Could she learn how to cook? Yes. Does she care to learn how to cook? No. I do think she'd know how to make some traditional Chinese meals, but doesn't really bother cooking most days.

I fully subscribe to @ghostradiodylan's headcannon that Dylan is a disaster cook due to his ADHD. He would get distracted and forget that he was heating something until he'd smell smoke and by then it's burnt to a crisp. He just doesn't have the attention span to focus on cooking, especially with recipes that require waiting for something to boil or heat up. Maybe he could do crockpot meals where you just throw the ingredients in, turn it on, and forget about it until the end of the day. But mostly I think he would stick with easy microwave meals (just throw it in the microwave and heat it for however long and then it's ready. No other prep work) as long as he could hear the timer go off when it was ready.

Ryan can definitely cook. He probably learned more out of necessity than anything since he had to help take care of his sister. Maybe he finds it relaxing. I could see him learning some skills from his grandmother for his cooking.

I don't remember who said it in the quarry brainrot discord (come join us!) but Laura is definitely a grill master and has a Grill Daddy apron. The girl can make a mean steak/burger/ribs. I bet she even has her own smoker.

Max straight up can't cook. He's a kitchen disaster. One time he wanted to surprise Laura with breakfast in bed and it ended in him spilling pancake batter everywhere, burning the eggs, undercooking the bacon, and nearly causing a kitchen fire when the toaster short-circuited (he was saved by Laura waking up to the sound of the fire alarm going off and using the extinguisher on the poor toaster. She still said it was one of the best breakfasts she had ever had). He can't cook, but boy can he bake. @itscomingupaces said that Max can make a mean cheesecake and that's 100% true.

Thank you for the ask! What's everyone else's headcannons?

[argentera124]

Baking/Cooking headcanons for the empires; Meaning which I personally think would bake/good food

Gem; Unrivaled baking skills. She makes the best cookies and cakes on the server- her favorite cookies to make are shaped like flowers. Honey is also incorporated into a LOT of recipes.

9/10 because I have a sweet tooth

Katherine: She has a few really good recipes- but gives me the vibe that she experiments in the kitchen using monster parts? You are about 50% likely to end up eating something shady there- but hey- it may be delicious!

6/10 (For potentially eating zombie)

Scott: He cooks for himself and for llamas - which doesn’t inspire a lot of creativity - and as a former adventurer a lot of his food is more “necessity over flavor”. Now that he has other humans staying in Chromia- he would start trying to test out his cook books more.

7/10 for the effort.

Sausage: If I had to choose any kingdom to have a nice dinner at- it would most likely be Sausage’s. The food of Sanctuary must be fantastic! There are rumors that his cooking has healing properties too (people just feel wonderful after eating it)! I like to think Eddie taught him to cook- and he having a hot meal after a day of hard work is a great way to de-stress.

11/10: best food.

SmallishBeans: I’m sorry but the “food of the gods” that HAS to taste amazing.

8/10 because I’m not sure if he cooks or if he just yells LORE and it exists

Lizzie: Weirdly, anamalia doesn’t really have a singular food culture. Yes, they trade in chicken - but because of the various species there, the flavor of food isn’t singular. I get the vibe that Lizzie, like Fwip, mostly eats what her people trade (berries and chicken). The foxes probably don’t season their food. Frogs eat slime.

6/10 I’m sorry Lizzie.

Jimmy: Hearty food for hard working folk. But given we have seen him not eating the pork that was sitting outside his base—- maybe he doesn’t cook as much as I’d think? Could either be delicious or eating beans out of a tin can.

7/10 for the uncertainty

Pixlriffs: Empire food type isn’t really an issue here- but I think having a meal with Pix would be a unique experience- sitting around a fire at base camp and hearing the stories of the ruins around you.

5/10 for the food

10/10 for the vibes.

Joey; Joey scares me- and his food does too. I’m not sure if he cooked for his crew or if they had an assigned cook- if he didn’t, Im sure he burns everything- if only to avoid undercooked fish. It all smells like gunpowder somehow.

3/10 if only because any lower and I’d worry about being raided by his crew.

Fwip; had to save Gobland for the last. By goblin standards, Fwip is a culinary genius. Best food around, all the goblins say so. And honestly, the pork isn’t half bad- there isn’t much seasoning though - maybe some cave mushrooms and mosses used to flavor the meat- but living in a cave limits access to some things.

1000/10 by goblin standards, 5-7/10 by other standards.

Edit: Added Lizzie!

[emoprincey]

I've talked about this a bit, but I don't think I've made a full post about it, so! Sanders Sides cooking headcanons!!

Patton is a pretty good cook and a brilliant baker!! He really enjoys baking so he has lots of practice making cakes. He probably cooks for the rest of the sides very often :)

Roman is also a great cook! He sometimes rushes things and makes mistakes, but somehow everything he makes ends up tasting great anyway.

Virgil is very careful with cooking. He reads the instructions so many times to make sure he has everything right. However, he always ends up burning things because he gets so anxious that they'll be undercooked he leaves them in the oven way too long.

Logan, bless his heart, is an ok cook but he can't bake at all. Everything in baking is so subjective, it doesn't compute with his logical brain. "Whisk until light and fluffy" "bake until golden-brown" Patton. What does this mean Patton. This recipe makes no sense, what is it telling me to do????

Janus is an absolutely incredible baker. He makes pastries and loads of fancy things. A combination of being meticulous and somehow having impeccable judgement when baking means that he can make just about anything perfectly. When he's cooking, he also likes to make fancy and complicated meals.

Remus, in theory, can cook very well! I say in theory, because while he has all the skills, he's more interested in experimenting with what he can make, which usually leaves the kitchen in more than a bit if a mess.

[remidyal]

Fantasy High PCs and some NPCs ranked by cooking ability, worst to best

This is completely my headcanon as of the end of FHSY, and as such is indisputable; Lunacy's would run a little different because Aelwyn is at least trying to learn in that. Starting with our worst:

Adaine and Aelwyn. Unseen servants did the cooking in the Abernant household, keeping these two from even having witnessed how to prepare a meal; since leaving it, Adaine's had a jacket that she can pull a sandwich out of at any time and Aelwyn's spent her time with the world's worst insomnia. At least both of them know it and won't try, unlike our other rich kid...

Fabian. His dignity is above trying, usually, but you can definitely taunt him into giving it a go and you are definitely going to regret it. Pretty great at chopping veggies though.

Gilear. Which is made even worse by the fact that he was paid to do it for most of a year for children, but this man absolutely had no business in that job. Or any job, near as I can tell.

Arthur Aguefort. Made worse by the fact that you just know he COULD cook perfectly fine if he wanted to but that he knows if he did you'd want him to do it again so he doesn't, plus if he uses your kitchen he definitely steals some of the cutlery.

Fig. Good at desserts, assuming you enjoy everything being 'special'. Overcooks most stuff and claims it's because she likes the smell of burning, which isn't true because she can't smell anything after chain-smoking cloves for two years.

Ayda. She can only make, like, two dishes but she does them with an industrial perfection every time, so as long as you like what she likes you're golden.

Riz. Kind of the extreme opposite of Ayda; he can make anything OK but because he thinks it's a waste of time you're really risking him undercooking it because it's not going to bother HIS stomach. Makes a mean poke bowl though.

Doreen. Yes, this means this is the cutoff line above which everyone is worse than industrial school kitchen quality. Yes, her replacement is like five spots back on this list. Yes, everyone else at school blamed Adaine for the dropoff in quality for braining her with the ladle.

Kristen. However, everything she can make is something you would find at a church potluck, and everything has corn in it because she hasn't expanded her cooking at the same time as her religion.

Jawbone. Similar to Kristen, a limited repertoire, in his case mostly limited to things you would make while hungover, but it's all really freaking good, man.

Gorgug. Secretly bordering on a masterful chef, but would place himself like ten slots back on this list and so always ends up letting Riz, Kristen, or Fig cook for the party.

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

riot grrrl

Aubrey wrestles with the truth. And her anger. And herself. And anyone who’ll get within swinging distance, really.

An Aubrey character study set in the wake of the True End.

“I have to tell you something.”

It’s been years since Aubrey heard Sunny’s voice. It’s—lower. Obviously. It’s been four years since they were all twelve years old, so of course his voice is fucking lower.

“Mari didn’t kill herself,” Sunny says, quiet and hoarse and, would you believe, fucking lower than Aubrey remembers. “I killed her. I didn’t mean to, but I—did. We were fighting and I. Pushed. Her. But we were too close to the stairs so—she fell.” His throat bobs. “Then Basil got scared so he— We made it look like I didn’t. And. I guess that’s it.”

Aubrey’s blood fucking sublimates in her veins.

Oh, is that right? Is that fucking right?

So that's why it didn't make sense. That's why it never made any fucking sense. Because everything she’d thought, these past four years—about how it couldn't have happened, because Mari would never, never leave her without an explanation, without even saying goodbye—was fucking true. This whole time, Aubrey was right. And all the unbearable truths that she pounded into her skull till her knuckles bled… None of them were true at all. It was just some stupid fucking lie.

Blood in her mouth, a burst of copper on her tongue. Legs shaking, arms juddering with suppressed violence. Aubrey looks at Sunny and for just a second she’s sure, absolutely fucking sure, that she’s going to kill him. It would be justice. The literal least that Mari deserves.

But Sunny looks so pathetic that she loses her nerve. Withered and starved and so pale that she can see the blue of his blood through his skin. Like a baby born too early, all its insides still half-grown and undercooked. Throwing him against the wall would be like stomping on a kitten that you found in a weighted sack at the bottom of a river. Too easy.

Instead, Aubrey wheels around and drives her fist through the drywall.

“Are you kidding me?” she roars, and storms out.

###

Here’s the thing: Aubrey was always angry.

No. That probably isn’t true. Probably no one is born angry. She’s pretty sure that anger isn’t supposed to be a pre-existing condition, like addiction and heart disease. But maybe it is sort of genetic. Because it definitely runs in her family.

Aubrey doesn’t remember a lot about her dad, but all the memories she has are tinged with fear. It’s all rough shouting and breaking glass, her mom screaming insults and throwing plates and pots and baking sheets all bent and dented from the last time. The way he always cried when he swore it wouldn’t happen again. And the way it was always a lie.

Even then, when she should have been too small to feel anything but scared… Even as a useless little kid, Aubrey was already angry.

She’s been angry for so long, she can’t even remember a time when she wasn’t. Though she has a few photos to remind her. Mari, one arm looped around her shoulders. Mari, teaching her how to braid flower stems without breaking them. Gently, like holding a butterfly’s wing.

Aubrey was alone until she wasn’t. She was lost until she wasn’t. She was cornered and afraid and, yeah, would you believe, fucking angry until the day Mari found her crying on the curb and showed her another way to feel. And then for a few impossible, unbelievable years, Aubrey was okay.

Then Mari died. Sunny might as well have died with her. Then Kel turned into a stranger and Hero turned into a ghost and Basil wouldn’t even look at her, wouldn’t even tell her why. Mari died, and Aubrey’s family threw her away.

Again.

Back then, Aubrey couldn’t understand. Trying to accept what Mari did was like trying to pick up a red-hot cast-iron pan with your bare hands and force it through a mail slot. No matter how bad you let yourself get burned, it's never going to fucking fit.

The dissonance of it; the disconnect… The total fucking impossibility of it made her want to set her skin on fire. Aubrey spent four fucking years trying to make it make sense, and in all that time, it never did.

And now she knows why.

Mari was the first and only good that Aubrey will ever know. Mari was everything good in the world and now she's nothing, because Sunny fucking—

“Stop,” she says, out loud. She’s just going around in circles, like a stupid fucking guard dog on a chain. Pacing and panting and jerking to get loose when really, all that running is just shortening the lead. Darwin Awards shit. Like trying to lift a scar by setting it on fire.

She can feel the anger burning in her belly. It’s ants under her skin, acid in her veins. She needs to let off some steam, or the pressure’s going to shred through her skin like wet paper.

She swings onto her bike and pedals for her secret place.

###

The first time she found this place was after Mari’s funeral.

Aubrey couldn’t breathe for days, after Mari d— After Mari was murdered. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t eat, couldn’t speak. Her throat had swollen shut so she couldn't do anything but gasp like a fish on dry land. Like her stupid fucking body had seen where Mari went and decided to drag Aubrey down with her.

Aubrey lived in a state of suspended asphyxiation. She went to school gasping. She went to the funeral gasping. Gasping, grasping, groping for anything solid. Waiting for someone to reach back. Aubrey wasn’t alone anymore. She wasn’t supposed to be alone. She had a family now, friends who loved her, she wasn’t—

But the front row was reserved for family. Hero and Kel got a seat. But there wasn’t any room for Aubrey.

She sat in the back row and gasped for air. No one noticed. No one reached back.

She was alone.

After the funeral, Aubrey couldn’t stay, but she couldn’t be anywhere else, either. So she just—went. She just walked. She walked down the sidewalk till she hit the treeline and then she kept walking. She didn’t know how to find her way back, out here where there weren’t any paths. Sunny could have done it, with his freakish geometric memory. But Sunny wouldn’t even come to the door. And anyway, all the familiar trails were stained red with Mari’s memory and Aubrey didn’t— She couldn’t do that. So she just kept walking.

Aubrey watched the dying light filter through the trees and remembered what Mari used to say about playing in the woods at dusk. The light through the trees is beautiful, but beauty can be dangerous. It sort of… blurs away the passing of time, so you don’t notice the sun setting till it’s already set. Not everything that can hurt you looks scary, you know! A lot of the deadliest things are beautiful.

Like you!!! Aubrey had shouted, which made Mari laugh.

That’s right! And like you, too, tapping Aubrey right on the nose. People underestimate beauty, but it's more dangerous than ugliness, I think. Because of how it draws you in. So you have to promise that you’ll check your watch, and stay on the path if it’s even close to dark. Even if Sunny swears that he can find the way back. Boys can be very silly sometimes, but I know I can trust you to keep them safe. Can you promise that for me?

Aubrey couldn’t agree fast enough. I— Of course!!! Boys are so stupid!!! Don’t worry, Mari! I’ll protect everyone!

Mari’s smile glowed brighter than the sun. She was always so beautiful. That’s what made her so dangerous.

The shadows stretched longer. The forest was already dark.

“Who cares,” Aubrey muttered. “I could die out here and no one would even notice.”

She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, that unbearable cold rising up to consume her. The last time Aubrey went exploring, she was with everyone, with Mari and Hero waiting for them back at home. Mari stopped going exploring after she hurt her leg, but she expected a full report after every expedition. When the explorers got too sleepy or too hungry to press on, Sunny would lead them all home. They’d tear through the trees and burst into brilliant sunlight to find Mari, beautiful, beaming, with a wicker basket full of Aubrey’s favorite treats.

And now…

A sob forced its way out her throat. But Aubrey was tired of crying. She was tired of gasping. She lowered her head and ran, straight ahead, as fast as she could. Like maybe if she ran fast enough, she could outrun everything that happened, and everything would be okay again.

—Then she ran smack into a wall.

She staggered back, dazed from the impact. Why would there be a wall in the middle of the woods? Squinting through the dark, she could make out a wide, rectangular silhouette. Damp wooden walls. Broken windows. The outline of a door, swinging loose on its hinge.

A cabin. A tiny, rickety, rain-weathered cabin, all alone in the middle of the forest. Aubrey’s eyes widened. In all the years she spent exploring with her friends, they'd never found this place.

The cabin was cold and dark, so it didn’t seem like anyone was home. But there was a fire pit and a dusty gravel path pointing the way to a lot of painted wooden targets. There was a whole little overgrown garden that no one had tended in ages. There were a lot of broken bottles and a few that were empty but whole, dangling from a clothesline so they hummed whenever the wind kicked up. A whole little home, hidden away from the waking world.

“Hello?” Aubrey said loudly. She wasn’t scared. She was too busy being surprised. “Is anyone there?”

But no one was. It looked like no one had been there for centuries.

Inside, she found some stacks of newspapers, but all of them were yellow with age, and the youngest were dated from more than twenty years ago. There wasn’t any electricity, but it was sheltered from the wind. And it was miles and miles from all the people who wouldn’t even care that she was gone.

Aubrey slept there that night. All night, she could hear the bottles singing.

###

Now that she’s older, Aubrey knows that the cabin is nothing supernatural. It’s just some weird old hidey-hole that some weird old libertarian must have built by hand, off the grid, whole decades ago. She knows they were conservative because half the targets on the shooting range are papered over with newspaper clippings of Jimmy Carter.

It was someone else’s secret, once. Some sad old freak who couldn’t keep up with the times. But Aubrey doesn’t care about that. It’s hers now.

Four years later, it’s still her best-kept secret. She never told anyone, not even Kim. The trouble with sharing things with people is, after those people kill themselves, or get murdered, the things you shared are poisoned. For good. There’s no prying Hobbeez or Faraway Park out of Mari’s phantom hands. Aubrey can’t even look down Sunny’s street without seeing Mari’s smile. So the only way to be safe is to hide your heart in places that are yours, and yours alone.

The gun propped against the cabin wall is loaded, but Aubrey’s never tried to fire it. She’s not interested. Her dad used to talk about teaching her to shoot, but that’s because her dad was a fucking coward. He never wanted a fair fight. He'd rather walk around the woods in fucking tactical gear, shooting bloody holes through a bunch of fuzzy little bunnies from eight hundred yards away.

Pathetic. Guns are for fucking cowards. Aubrey is a lot of things: a bastard, a bully, unwanted, angry, ugly, vindictive, cruel—

—But at the very least, she’s not a fucking coward.

She can still feel her anger jittering in her veins. But this place still carries that strange sense of calm that she felt the first time she laid eyes on it. Like it exists somewhere outside of time. …And also it’s lodged in the middle of several square miles of uncharted wilderness, so. Aubrey’s free to break shit as much as she fucking wants.

By the time she’s shattered the stupid fucking weathervane and torn several small saplings out by the root, Aubrey is feeling… not calm, but. A little less wild. Her fury is a dull throb, not a blinding blaze. At this point, she could probably talk to someone without breaking all their bones.

And she does need to talk. After spending four years choking on someone else’s lies, she thinks she deserves some fucking answers.

###

Aubrey pedals hard to Sunny’s house. But all she finds there is Kel, slouched on the stoop and looking forlorn. Ugh. Just looking at him pisses her off.

“Sunny,” she hisses, getting straight to the point.

“Wh— Huh?? Where??”

“No, you fucking moron, I’m asking. Where the fuck is Sunny. I swear to god, Kel, if you get in my way right now…”

“I’m not in anyone’s way!!” he says defensively, his pathetic lost-puppy expression folding to something more familiar. “Jeez!! What are you doing here, anyway? Did you just wanna push Sunny around like you did with Basil?” He glares, a rare show of unchecked hostility. “It's not like it’s gonna make you feel better. You’re just making everything worse."

Heat flares in her belly, claws at her throat. “Oh, fuck you too, Kel. You have no idea what you’re talking about, so fucking spare me. Just get out of my way.”

“So I guess that’s a yes,” Kel mutters. “Well, you can’t. N-Not because I’m stopping you!!” he yelps, when he sees her reach for her bat. “Because no one can! His mom picked him up, like, an hour ago! Did you seriously forget?”

…Right. Right, the move. Of course she didn’t forget. She just got a little distracted by the atomic fucking bomb that Sunny dropped on her before totally skipping town. Because apparently everyone Aubrey knows is a fucking coward.

“So what the fuck are you still doing here?” she asks, deliberately cruel. “You’re, what, just moping around like fuckin’ Hachiko? Don’t make me laugh. You know, no matter how much you act like a fucking loser, he’s still not gonna fuck you.”

“Jesus christ, Aubrey!! I know you’re upset, but that’s—” Kel huffs irritably. “Look. I’m not Basil, okay? I don’t hate myself near enough to let you talk to me like that.”

A surge of bile, bitter on her tongue. "No,” she spits. “You're really not. At least Basil has a fucking speck of self-awareness. At least he knows what he did. He doesn't go around acting like some perfect little princess, like everything that’s ever happened is someone else’s—”

“Oh my god, you are impossible to talk to!!! I thought maybe we could get through this together this time, but apparently not!!” Kel pushes himself to his feet and stomps home, but not before shooting a last glare over his shoulder. “Have fun pushing everyone away! It’s obviously what you do best!!”

Her pulse thunders in her ears like some biological cataclysm, a train derailing in fast motion. Aubrey whips around and yanks her bat free from the body of her bike and kicks the stupid bike across the lawn for good measure. But when she turns around, Kel is already gone. She hears his front door slam shut.

Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU. You act like you’re blameless but you’re just as fucked as the rest of us. You think you’re soooo fucking loyal but it’s all just empty words, just empty fucking promises, just another fucking—

“Fuck!!!” she screams, and swings her bat through Sunny’s mailbox.

It doesn’t change anything, but it does make her feel a little better.

READ THE REST HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43929270/chapters/116397373

[somescenecatholic]

Wakko: THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD WITH YOU TWO! You've choked me! You've burned me! The steak you fed me was undercooked! I think I need to tell you off, but I've never been the bad cop before! What would your Aunt Katie do?!



Didi: Since we don't live here, she would tell us to go the guest room



Wakko: THANK YOU! THAT'S REALLY HELPFUL! NOW GO TO THE GUEST ROOM!



Kiki: LOOK! We've been nice to you all day, okay? [Kiki and Didi go upstairs] We've tried everything, but nothing works! Well you know what, Uncle Wakko? You're only our second favorite avunculi anyway!



[Wakko is hurt by this comment]



Katie Kaboom: So... You guys have a good day? [Beat] Wakko, did you have a good day?



Wakko: DOES IT MATTER?! WHATEVER I DO, I'LL ALWAYS BE THE BAD COP, AND YOU'LL ALWAYS BE THE FAVORITE!



Katie Kaboom: Favorite? What are you talking about?



Wakko: It's easy for you. But somebody has to keep these kids in line, and if that means I lose the popularity contest-



Katie Kaboom: Wakko, being an avuncli is not a competition!



Wakko: What? Afraid you'll lose?



Katie Kaboom: I really doubt that but it's not about-



Wakko: OH YEAH? Kiki, Didi, in the car, NOW!



Kiki and Didi: What? Why?



Wakko: Because there's only one way to guarantee your nieces' affection. YOU BUY IT! Girls, I'm getting you a new computer!



Katie Kaboom: Oh no you're not!



Wakko: Why not?



Katie Kaboom: 'CAUSE I'M GONNA DO IT FIRST!



[Katie Kaboom speeds outside with Kiki and Didi. Wakko chases her but returns to grab all the food on the table]

what is a avuncli 💀

[nastya-sokolova-2002]

Wakko: THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD WITH YOU TWO! You've choked me! You've burned me! The steak you fed me was undercooked! I think I need to tell you off, but I've never been the bad cop before! What would your Aunt Katie do?!



Didi: Since we don't live here, she would tell us to go the guest room



Wakko: THANK YOU! THAT'S REALLY HELPFUL! NOW GO TO THE GUEST ROOM!



Kiki: LOOK! We've been nice to you all day, okay? [Kiki and Didi go upstairs] We've tried everything, but nothing works! Well you know what, Uncle Wakko? You're only our second favorite avunculi anyway!



[Wakko is hurt by this comment]



Katie Kaboom: So... You guys have a good day? [Beat] Wakko, did you have a good day?



Wakko: DOES IT MATTER?! WHATEVER I DO, I'LL ALWAYS BE THE BAD COP, AND YOU'LL ALWAYS BE THE FAVORITE!



Katie Kaboom: Favorite? What are you talking about?



Wakko: It's easy for you. But somebody has to keep these kids in line, and if that means I lose the popularity contest-



Katie Kaboom: Wakko, being an avuncli is not a competition!



Wakko: What? Afraid you'll lose?



Katie Kaboom: I really doubt that but it's not about-



Wakko: OH YEAH? Kiki, Didi, in the car, NOW!



Kiki and Didi: What? Why?



Wakko: Because there's only one way to guarantee your nieces' affection. YOU BUY IT! Girls, I'm getting you a new computer!



Katie Kaboom: Oh no you're not!



Wakko: Why not?



Katie Kaboom: 'CAUSE I'M GONNA DO IT FIRST!



[Katie Kaboom speeds outside with Kiki and Didi. Wakko chases her but returns to grab all the food on the table]

106:Very funny dispute)

[nrc-therapist]

i mean my life isnt as wild as like half the campus. i just dont have a sense if self preservation i think?

i wanna climb another tree but my brother wont let me >:(

unfortunately for him im a master at sneaking out of places. so i will climb a tree one handed.

and dw im taking care of my wrist and my brother is being careful with the arm i stabbed.

our moms sent us both a care package though, so thats great! mama thankfully prevented mom from sending us home cooked food from her. mainly because all three of us enforce her ban from the kitchen strictly.

mom isnt as bad as some people on campus but she either undercooks or burns everything she makes. mama’s a good cook though :)

dangit now im getting homesick… i’ll just video call them tonight though. they wanted to check up on me and my brother anyways(and probably scold us both).

-🍋 anon

please don't climb another tree, you should be resting

but yeah, you should get in touch with your mothers if you feel homesick

I hope both you and your brother have a speedy recovery!

[arizona-mary-jo]

Blended

TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, self-deprecation, break-ups.

Blended - Arizona Muse/Arizona Mary Jo/Arizona Metzler

My knuckles hurt, this box is so full and it hurts my arms and my knuckles. My arms are sore and I have to walk up these stairs. Where do I live, I don’t know what apartment its apartment 252 I think I know its 252 right here right her on the left, I found my place. My back hurts, need key from back pocket, no front pocket no back pocket, no lost it no I have it in my front small pocket. New green door, miss my red door, it okay. . it’s okay. . here we are. . this is new . . . this is the new now and it is okay. I'm just going to goinside.

Sigh sigh sigh sigh, it smells, ew, tobacco, wish I can smoke, I can I am an adult, I can do what I want I want to smoke but I don’t want to smoke so it’s okay but I can if I want to because I am an adult but I don’t want to, but if I do its okay and I don’t have to be upset at myself. I don’t want to ruin how good I’ve been. . I don’t want to ruin anything else. . it’s okay. . it’s okay. . I should eat because I am hungry and tired and my knuckles hurt from the glass, from last week, felt good but sad, those frames were nice but its okay because its gone now and can't fix it, cant . . I can't . . maybe it will though . . be okay one day . . it’s okay. . everything heals in time. . this too shall pass, but she used to say that, I don’t have to hate it, it’s true, I'm just mad and that is okay. . it’s okay. . I should eat. I saw blue grocery store down that open street with red sign and taco place with red bench there, on that left there. I’ll go to that blue grocery place there.

Rice, beans, sandwich, soup, spaghetti, soup, ravioli, soup, smoothie, light? I don’t know what I am hungry for I want something light I don’t want don’t want heavy food please so full, I am full but haven’t eaten but ate lunch, lunch was small but I had had it not too long ago. It wasn’t healthy but that’s okay . . . I want to cook but I don’t know how. I burn. I scrap. I mess up. I miss read. I burn. Undercook. Mess up all food, I'm not good. Rice is always raw, chicken is hard I always burn the chicken. I have to get food so easy recipes are good for that. Basic items are easy, corn, can chicken, potato mix, broccoli, milk, cheese, chocolate, chocolate milk, strawberry milk . . sugar . . junk food . . I need real food and I can't just keep eating junk all the time . . her . . she . .

Her face . . anger . .

Cold . . its okay . . I know . . I know . . its

Okay . . I know . . lets keep going

but its okay to do every once in a while because I am an adult and can eat what I want and choose to be better too. Maybe a diet, I will grab veggies, fruits, juice, water, milk, potatoes, canned chicken, get magazine for recipes and diets, where are they? Front, okay, game plan, food, magazines, home, food. I can do this. I see magazines Ill go there first because I see magazines.

Keto, Rachel Ray, vegetarian, pescatarian, 30 minute abs, maybe I can look good, want to feel good for the summer if I happen to see her, I don’t want to see her but I want to look good . . does that mean I want to see her. . it’s okay if I do . . it’s okay. . its okay. . I'm in the store I should not think this, I haven’t read at all, just staring but have been tracking. It okay. . just read. Smoothies? Smoothies are good with burger so I can have a burger and a healthy smoothie. I ruin everything. . this blender will fix that. . it okay. . it’s okay . . I will get blender, put good food in like veggies and fruit and kale and carrots and strawberries and mangos and I will feel good and look good because I enjoy feeling better than . . than now . . .

. . .                                          cold. .  .               .    .    .                     cold   .     .       .

It’s okay. . it is okay. . snap our I have a mission, I need a blender, I will not ruin anything else. I promise I won’t.

Blue, green, blue or green, I like blue, but green is good and I need more color in my white blank apartment, smelly apartment, I want to pain walls of place green so I should get a green blender unless it blends in too well, ha, blends in, blender. I amuse myself, I am funny, but I need a blender so I am going to get the black one and paint my walls instead, unless I find something better.. something better? . . do I need better? Deserve better? . . .

Its okay . . its okay . . I am going to get something nice or different and not care about what is what, I will choose blindly, closing eyes closing eyes, feeling around am blind, pick! Yellow? Like a light yellow like a small flower? Or like grandmas dishes cups and bowls and plats glasses, a light yellow but she had red roses on front on front some pink roses with red, this is yellow blender, familiar, comforting, grandmas perfume,

     small and the last one. No box? No label, I want this blender for some why.

I will keep blender and pass on to my future children, if I have any, I would like

children just like she did . . she did . . I should have then but its okay . .

I am here now and should head our to check our now I have my blender. I'm hungry, want chocolate, but my teeth hurt from so much sugar, she said I needed to eat healthy . . she said id have i would have cavity cavities. . that’s okay . . I'm an adult now for a while and I am big to make my own decisions. . my own . . I can do what I want what I want what I want. . I want . . leave, I have my blender.       I just            I just want to leave .

spinach            carrots             apples              broccoli           oranges            potatoes           . . .

       cold . . .   strawberries    blueberry         milk                 butter   . . .        cold . . .

             heavy .          .           .           .           . I should move           .           .           . people will    ask  . . .        this wrong           .           . burden             . home.

My new apartment is old, smells, grime dinge, reeks. Knuckles sore, groceries not heavy though so I can hold but will put in kitchen, want rest my arms, arms sore from move and all those heavy boxes. Need food, I will eat to feel feel better, that sounds bad in obvious

terms blatant but it’s okay because I am an adult and I can handle it

and I can go somewhere to take care of it if I find the time, . .

Why if,  . . why would I say if if I want to get better, . . . . . It should be will, I will find time and get better, but that is for later, now I must eat, hungry and need energy, I will eat and I will

feel better. Better than what? . .than what? Do I feel bad? I should but that is okay

because I don’t want to feel bad. . I want to feel better . . I want better. I am better

because I say so, I will eat with my new blender and my for myself

I did things myself and I can push push through.

I suffer and my will will push me through because it is the fuel, I will push and do things.

No more thinking, I do, action now, blender now.

Focused, kitchen . . kitchen is very dirty . . is this . . .

No! no no no. Action! Blender. Outlet. Chord. BRIGHT . . . .smoke . . . smoke?

ruined. . . ruined . . . smoke.

no blender . . . no food.

Pizza.

She was right . . . Its all ruined . . . cold.        cold                 why cold.        I can't                          I can't make anything.

Sound. . . sounds ?  . . . heard something, heard something, I am sure, I heard heard something, its okay its okay its okay . . it is okay . .

it is okay. Yea. The kitchen is where where I heard the noise over

in front of me, should not be on floor right now, its okay okay okay, the kitchen. Okay fire? No smoke, no nothing. Burglar? No kitchen is far from door, would hear or see if burglar, okay slow . . . slow. I see . . Movement! Wagging? dog puppy. . Puppy? Yellow? . . . wait.

. . . . Blender?

This, blender, blender! Blender, light yellow, glass metal, small blender, wagging, wagging like a puppy, my blender, all mine, my light yellow, it jumps! Running around. Blender is cute, my blender, my buttercup. Perfect name for the blender blender because light yellow and butter cup is same shade, like grandmas cookware. Buttercup is happy, runs around, circles me, runs running around. can't go outside for running, run inside is good.

I still need eat, does blender buttercup eat? Must get delicious food.

I want buttercup happy so it wont ruin . . be ruined . . .

 I don’t . . don’t want to ruin . . . my new . . .

I don’t want to ruin anything else . . .

its okay.

Pizza! Pizza for buttercup blender would be good food as its new and delicious, blender will love pizza I love pizza. Will call over phone, can't wait I love pizza and so will buttercup.

Pizza time! Time to eat, marinara, good good yum robust smelling spaghetti dinner pepperoni cheese cheese smells so good, blender will love pepperoni pizza. Smells so good with open top, so good just want to only smell the so good smell. Good smells . good smells . mmmm good smells . need plate. Blender! Blender has plate! Blender is good boy very good boy who is helpful, deserves that good good pizza like a good boy.  Blender?          No pizza pizza . . No pizza?   Too hot? Blowing will cool down for blender.          Blender?          Still no pizza for boy?

               Blender does not like pizza. . . . veggies fruit for blender. . . good food for him . . .

good for him. . . . I can be like him . . I think . . . . . I can think I can do it.

Blender is good for me, blender is help and helpful like a good puppy, he is good and I will be good for him because he is so small and nice and cute and I can love him. I love him. I will protect my blender my buttercup. . . I can do that . . . I wont ruin this . . . I wont destroy this . . . I won't.

(The original version has spaces and indents, as well as specific words faded. Scanned version will be updated to see as is.)

[gay-jesus-probably]

Okay let's be clear here, while Pepa and Bruno Madrigal are both chaotic bastards in their own ways and have definitely raised some accidental and/or intentional hell with their powers, I think we're all sleeping on Julieta Madrigal, because I garuntee you all three of the triplets must've done a lot of experimenting with their powers as kids/teenagers, and I don't know if anyone else has realized what that experimenting would look like for Julieta.

I mean, at first it'd probably be relatively harmless, just like, wondering at what point does her powers work on food to make it become a healing item? So that wouldn't have a problem, it'd probably just be stuff like experimenting to see how much of the cooking process she'd need to be involved in for her magic to work. Like, can someone else do everything and she just needs to cook the finished product? What if she puts it together and someone else cooks it? Or what if she just preps the ingredients, and someone else does all the work? (The answer they find is that the less she's involved in the cooking process, the weaker the healing is, so if she wants to make something useful, it's best to just do it all herself, the most help she'll accept is basic prep work like chopping and washing ingredients.)

But then once those questions are answered, the triplets are of course still thinking about how Julieta's powers work, and this is when they're teenagers so they have no fear of death or god, and then one of them (probably Bruno) makes the horrible mistake of wondering out loud if her healing powers would still work if she made food that was just bad. And guess what, if Julieta deliberately burned her cooking, it still worked to heal people! Which was a funny thing to keep in mind for if someone really annoyed her. And having tried overcooking her food, now of course they had to see if blatantly undercooked food would still have healing powers.

...And that's how the Madrigal triplets got food poisoning.

[attackfish]

From worst to best, how good do you think the Avatar the Last Airbender characters would be at making dumplings?

Sokka: These are the worst things you have ever put in your mouth.

Ty Lee: She doesn't know how she got into this mess, but she's tired, she's cold, she has dough gunk in her hair, and everything smells like rotten fish. She's crying. She just wants to go to bed.

Suki: She just never learned to cook, okay? She was busy. But she thinks her granddad made them with island hog-hen, and, ooh, she could add honey. That goes good in everything. And salt. Salt enhances flavor, right? She wants them to be really flavorful, so it's got to be a whole lot of salt. And, what do you mean the dough has to be cooked? She thought you just left them to dry or something.

Zuko: Look, all I'm saying is he tried. He did. But the dough is somehow both hard and burned, and also runny and undercooked, with lumps of un-mixed-in four, and the filling is a little uh, raw in the middle. These are dangerous dumplings. Do not consume.

Azula: I'm sure it's reasonable to assume that as a princess with no need or desire for a culinary education, Azula would make terrible dumplings. This is false. She simply sees no point in making them at all when there are other people to make them for her. This absence of dumplings puts her ahead of the previous dumpling makers by default.

Toph: Toph also sees no reason to attempt to make dumplings, but I like her better than Azula.

Hakoda: His dumplings are dumplings, and edible. They're quite nice in seaweed broth.

Bato: Bato's dumplings are also fairly run of the mill, but the rest of the warriors agree they're slightly better than Hakoda's.

Iroh: Iroh started cooking late in life but has achieved a surprising degree of competency. His dumplings are delicious, though nothing special, something he'll tell you himself, while serving you the best tea you've ever had to go with them.

Mai: Mai is a dark ostrich-horse. Class-wise she has always been in this odd in-between place, with her noble father from an impoverished family and her well off merchant's daughter mother. Her mother used to leave most of the cooking to servants, but the most important stuff she made herself. But Mai was noble, and exempt. Her mother wanted her to be exempt. But of course, her aunt thinks that hog-henwash, and if she wants to live on her own she needs to be able to feed herself. So Mai learns. She's already patient and observant, and knows her way around a knife, so it comes easy to her. Sometimes she gets bored, and you can find little carved carrot flowers inside her dumplings, for extra flair.

Ursa: Ursa is an excellent all around cook, and finds joy in simple dishes like the dumplings she used to have as a child, back in Hira'a.

Aang: He used to cook cakes and sweet things with Monk Gyatso. After the war, when he's searching for a sense of his old home, he started trying to recreate recipes. He actually gets really into it and develops the skills of a good solid cook, and his air temple dumplings are wonderful. He also learned some vegetarian Water Tribe dishes, and even Sokka says they're not bad, even if they would be better with some meat.

Katara: Katara is a superior dumpling maker. They are perfect, tender, fluffy, chewy. Any fillings or sauce are always a perfect balance of flavors. They are delightful. Unfortunately, Sokka is a thief and stole the last plate of them.

Kanna: Look, nobody makes better dumplings than their Gran-Gran, not even Katara.

[julek]

if you’re so inclined, “don’t stop stroking my hair” but platonic ciri and jaskier? the other fic you wrote about them when they couldn’t sleep and how supportive he was to her got me feeling some kind of way and I’d love to see more of it!

The smell of manure hits Jaskier's nose the second he steps into the stables. "Ciri?"

"In here."

He follows the sound of her voice down to the last stall, the one that's been unoccupied all winter. The latch is open, the door slightly ajar. He walks in.

And promptly falls onto a patch of hay.

"Pfft," he splutters, plucking a spike out of his mouth.

"Hi," Ciri tells him, looking at him with a smile on her lips.

"Hi," he says back, sitting next to her. "What are we doing?"

"Hiding from Vesemir," she says.

"Ah," Jaskier says. "The delicate art of hiding from Witchers with enhanced sight and hearing. So easily achieved by a loud teenage girl and a bard usually dressed like a peacock."

"I'm not loud!" She says, loudly. She frowns. "Okay, I'm only loud when I'm around you. You bring it out in me."

Jaskier hums, reclining more comfortably on his seat of hay. He brings the spike to his lips. "And why are we hiding from Vesemir on this fine morning?"

Ciri looks down at her hands. "I'm on kitchen duty today."

"That's good!" Jaskier tells her. "It's one of the easiest chores around here."

There's fixing up the walls, the roof. There's cataloguing the pantry and reshelving the books on the library. There's scrubbing the Great Hall's floor. There's caring for the horses, which Jaskier is usually called for. Kitchen duty is definitely the more feasible one.

But Ciri seems to disagree.

"I suck at cooking," she admits, defeated, her gloved hands hitting her thigh. "I can't do anything right. I either burn everything, or undercook everything, or slice vegetables wrong or leave eggshells in the pot, or— ugh!" She covers her face behind her hands. "And Vesemir is always there, supervising me. Watching me fail."

Oh.

So being spared to the kitchen is no sparing at all, it seems.

"I'm sorry, bird." He touches her hand. "I didn't know you were having a hard time with it."

She heaves a frustrated sigh, and lies flat on her back, her head on Jaskier's lap. "It's just— whatever."

"It's not whatever," Jaskier says softly.

She purses her lips. "It's not that I don't— that I don't like it," she murmurs. "It's just that I'm not good at it. I'm helpless. I don't like not knowing how to do things. I usually know how to do things. How to be good at them."

Jaskier nods. He understands the feeling to some extent — after all, he'd been born into nobility, his fate sealed and only the best instructors to make sure he'd grow into the man they were expecting him to be. He'd had his hand slapped by his governess more times than he can count, had a fine handkerchief across his torso tying him to a chair so he'd stay still during his lessons.

How could one not excel at everything, after all that?

But nobility didn't need to cook. They had servants, chefs — people who'd go the trouble for them. They didn't need to know any utensils other than the ones set for them at their table, didn't even need to walk inside the kitchens, lest their fine clothing be smothered in smoke and grease.

"I suck at cooking, too," he tells her, and gently begins carding his fingers through her hair. It's down, for once.

"Do not."

"Do too!" He sits up straighter. "Oh, you mean you haven't seen the way the Witchers look at each other when they realize I'm on kitchen duty? The staring, the elbowing?"

Ciri tsks. "Your food is good. Edible."

Jaskier laughs. "Highest of compliments, Princess. Edible food. Everything I wished I'd accomplish."

"Don't stop stroking my hair," she says with a glare that turns into somthing softer. "You know what I mean, though. No one second-guesses you."

"Oh, but they used to," he replies. "And with good reason. I was a disaster— I kept burning myself trying to prepare a meal. It took me many, many years to accept that cooking wasn't something I would be proficient in." He rakes his nails through her hair, earning himself a pleased hum. "But I practiced, still, because —and never tell Geralt I said this— one must learn a few skills when living in the road. Yes, you suck at first, and no one wants to eat your food, and you're stuck chewing on a rabbit leg for half an hour because you're hungry and there's nothing else to eat."

"Charming."

"Mm," he says. "The thing is, you suck, but you keep trying, until maybe your rabbit leg isn't exactly tasty, but it's finally edible, and you can eat it and go to sleep with your stomach full."

“I hate trying.”

Ah, teenagers. So joyful and full of life.

Jaskier misses it every day.

“Well,” he says. “Maybe I could help you. Not actually help you cook — Gods know we’d just burn down Vesemir’s kitchen — but maybe be there for… moral support. Offer helpful commentary.”

She squints up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, and boops her nose. She is immediately outraged, and he loves her very much. “I know Vesemir can be a bit of a grump—”

“World’s greatest understatement.”

“—nevertheless, we can both learn a thing or two from his vast and varied experience.”

“Are you calling him old?”

Jaskier grins. “Not if he’s within earshot.”

Ciri smiles at him.

“C’mon, now,” Jaskier says, patting her on the shoulder and dusting off his trousers. “Let’s go burn the kitchen down!”

Hand in hand, they leave the stall.