#funny biscuit shirt

[johnnydany]

Funny Half Man Half Biscuit Funny Biscuit Man T-Shirt

Get your here: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/37451311-funny-half-man-half-biscuit-funny-biscuit-man

==> SHARE & Tag Your Friends Who Would Love & Wear This Shirt.

[scr3amingqueen]

Baki characters in funny shirts mini drawing series: Day 1

@yandere-writer-momo hath summoned me to make some funny little doodles of Baki characters in some absolutely diabolical shirts, and how can I not immediately comply? Wifey feeds me the good content and I must give some in return. So before I work on any of the Alice in Wonderland stuff (which I will be releasing a poll about later today), why not have some fun adding silly shirts to characters we love (and ones we make fun of like Katou!)

The first one we have will be Biscuit Oliva (although I might use this shirt again on another character as well) and can I just say he’s killin it rn.

[thomasdaniel91]

Orange Day Cookies Classic T-Shirt

Who want to love this T-Shirt?

Click order now: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/37337228-orange-day-cookies-classic-t-shirt

#orangedaycookies #orangedaycookiesshirt #orangedaycookiestshirt #cookies #cookieslovers #lovevcookies #orangeday #cookiesshirt #cookiestshirt #ilovecookies #eatcookies #biscuit #biscuits #lovebiscuits #biscuitslovers #biscuitsshirt #biscuitstshirt #teaptingtshirt #tshirt #giftforhim #giftforher #gifts #giftideas #humor #funnyquotes #saying #foodlovers #orangedayshirt #orangedaytshirt

[scr3amingqueen]

Imma be real with y’all, I couldn’t decide who would wear it better. So I’m leaving it up to you.

My head cannon for this is that they’re both standing over the MC as they wear this.

love funny shirt prompts by the way, I live for them

Now would Oliva wear this or Hanayama? @scr3amingqueen

[anadiasmount]

Married life with Jude!!

headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍

masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!

would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔

kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”

have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”

would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.

on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.

calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.

the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”

LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.

brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”

annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”

when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”

BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”

buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”

would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.

when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”

a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.

even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.

[thefreakandthehair]

a little fluff for @starrystevie's birthday! hope it's the absolute best day! ✨

Eddie misses Steve.

It's equal parts cute, and maybe a little pitiful because it's only three days in Chicago for his friend's Bachelor Party, but it's already been two days and he misses Steve. Bandit digs his claws into Eddie's thigh as he makes biscuits and begs for pets, curling up comfortably next to Eddie's lap and leaving Steve's side of the couch overwhelmingly cold and empty.

"I know, kid. I know," Eddie coos, scratching their cat behind the left ear as he purrs.

He's glad that Steve had been able to get the time off from work to go, and he's glad that Steve's made friends on his recreational basketball league, and he's not jealous. At all. Not even a little bit.

... Okay, maybe he is a little bit jealous that Brandon gets to see him sweaty and gross in the June heat, running around doing whatever jock-activity they've planned in the backyard of their rented house all weekend, but who can blame him? Steve never gives him a reason to feel insecure so he knows this isn't about Steve. It's not rooted in anything even remotely related to him or their relationship— it's all about Eddie and the nasty voice in the back of his head that pulls out a bullhorn and screams not good enough on a loop.

Condensation from the beer in his free hand drips down his wrist as he rests his elbow on the arm of the couch. It's not the first time he's felt this way, and Steve himself has admitted to feeling the same way from time to time, so he knows that it'll pass. He just needs to focus on something else: DND campaign planning, sketching, writing, cracking out the ol' guitar. He could rewatch Howard the Duck for the hundredth time, or maybe even Labyrinth—

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Eddie's phone buzzes on the coffee table and he fully expects it to be Gareth or Jeff, or maybe Robin. They have plans later that night, both of them missing Steve and all. What he doesn't expect is a series of text messages and 19 photos from Steve.

How funny. It's been five years since they'd become EddieandSteve but seeing Steve's name and smiling photo on his phone sets his little hummingbird heart aflutter even still.

steve 👑: it's so goddamn hot here steve 👑: we're playing cornhole now and just threw a football around steve 👑: sweating all the beer and vodka out as a I go, that's healthy, right? don't worry, I'm drinking a shit ton of water.

Steve includes a selfie of himself, smiling closed-lipped with a baseball cap on backwards and the neck of his tee-shirt drenched in sweat. Eddie wants to lick him dry and that's a thought he'll never tell a living soul, probably not even Steve. No, no definitely not Steve. He'll never live that one down.

steve 👑: oh, and fishing was good! we made some bets on who could catch the most and then who could catch the biggest. I tied for first place for the biggest and I caught 17. brandon got 20 so he won that bet. I'm only letting it go because it's his bachelor party lmao

Eddie swipes to the next photo, one of Steve and Brandon holding their two biggest catches. Steve's sunglasses are sliding down his nose, no doubt from the sun warming his glistening skin, and he's smiling wide against the railing of a boat. As much as he misses him, Eddie can't help but mirror his smile. Call him lovesick or 'down bad', as Robin says, but seeing Steve happy makes him happy.

He continues swiping and reading the little blurb attached to each photo, some of which don't even include Steve but Eddie appreciates them all the same. They don't include Steve, but it feels a lot like Steve trying include Eddie in the weekend. The last picture is one of the entire group, all dozen or so guys lined up on the ship. Brandon stands in the center surrounded by the rest of the group with Steve shuffled in no meaningful spot but to Eddie, Steve is the center of every photo, every moment, everything.

Eddie starts to type a response when his phone dings again. This time, Steve sends a voice message and Eddie presses play so quickly, he nearly knocks poor Bandit off his lap.

Hey, takin' a break from cornhole. I won, by the way, had to make up for losing to Brandon in the fishing bet.

Steve laughs and Eddie's stomach flips. Robin's right. He's down very, very bad for this man.

But I just uh, I miss you, and I know maybe that's sorta lame but I do. The party's great and all, but I can't wait to get back home tomorrow. Tell the kid I said hi. I love you, Ed.

He replays it a few times and shamelessly taps Keep so it doesn't disappear before sending his own voice message.

It's no more lame than me sitting here with Bandit sharing how much we miss you, so you get a pass. I mean, you get a pass on everything all the time, but don't let that go to your pretty head, okay? I'm so fucking glad you're having fun and sowing your jocky oats, but selfishly, I can't wait for you to get home. I'll make it worth your while.

He huffs air through his nose and laughs low in his throat.

Oh, and Robin's coming by in a little bit so I'm gonna grab a bottle of wine. Don't be surprised if you get a FaceTime call later. I love you too, Stevie. So goddamn much.

Eddie sure does miss Steve, but it stings a little less knowing that Steve misses him, too.

[ominoose]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Character(s): Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley Summary: Not x reader, just random silly thoughts about the lads. Kinda summer themed. They're still in London. This came out more British than intended. Warnings: None

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭

Now that he's not constantly tired and getting two hours of sleep every fifth night if he's lucky, the Brit goes between quiet moments with a book on the couch to hyperactive spiels with no warning.

The newfound energy also takes his sass and mischief to the next level. If Marc or Jake (usually Marc, Jake's too scared) piss him off he will not drop it. For days Steven will slyly bring it up, make offhand remarks or fully kick up the argument again. It's never serious, he's still the one to step in if the other two are at arms, but Steven is no pacifist. "Y'know I just bought all these ingredients to make a lovely homecooked dinner with enough leftovers for Jake's taxi shifts and Marc's workouts... But-" "Steven please, we're starving, come on." "Since my cooking apparently tastes like a grannies garden!" "Por favor, I didn't even say it, Marc did-" "But you didn't disagree bruv!"

Takes Eurovision seriously. He made a point of not watching the BBC broadcast this year, although he's kept tabs on it through other websites. He's still not over last year. Jake tried to look into it and made a small comment about listening to the winner, commenting on Sweden's contestant being good. Steven went on a rant for a good twenty minutes about how it was rigged before Jake learned this was a lot more than a friendly song contest.

Whines when its hot out and forces Marc or Jake to front outside. Then forces them to buy a Mr Whippy for him to front and eat.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

Gets really into British football. It started with hearing chants and noises outside on match days, the comradery and stupid sing-songs from fans in matching team colours bringing him a sense of nostalgia. He's still a diehard cubs fan, but going to the local pub to watch the match, getting a healthy outlet to yell and bang a table amidst others oddly suited him. Steven's just glad he's socializing.

Secretly folds up Stevens more "colourful" shirts and hides them.

Loves British chocolate, hates British crisps. He see's a packet of pickled onion Monster Munch and physically cringes away.

While Steven fronted and browsed through a charity shop, Marc spotted an old ds, just like one he had as a kid. The Brit could physically feel him eye it up from the inside and bought it. Now Marcs post-workout routine includes playing Pokemon.

Marc gets visibly sad and sighs whenever they phone in pizza because its never like the ones back home in Chicago.

Loves a greggs sausage roll.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

Half the reason the other two found out about him was when the old lady that Steven scared off in the elevator to the point she avoided them like the plague suddenly smiled and offered them tea. Turns out Jake had been helping her carry the shopping back to the flat when they bumped into each other. Their odd tea and biscuit afternoons helped Jake keep tabs on the boys.

Naps in front of the telly, usually to some reality tv like Eastenders, snoring away. The moment Steven or Marc slowly try to control the arm holding the remote he jerks away, pulling it to his chest and telling them off because he's still "watching" it.

Knows Marc folds and hides Stevens shirts that he hates. He puts them at the top of the pile just before Steven fronts. Marc has no clue and it drives him nuts.

His favourite passengers to pick up are drunk women. They're always either very funny or tell the most downright devious gossip, never afraid to openly include him in it too.

Made a solemn vow to himself that if he ever drove past Rishi Sunak he'd egg him.

Since he prefers night-shifts, the cat distribution system seemed to give him an 90% chance of meeting kittens on the street. If he has a passenger when he spots the little critter he'll make a mental note to return after drop off, Jake Lockley will not pass a chance at checking up on and cradling a gatita. Marcs learnt to be somewhat present during these shifts to stop Jake sneaking home with several kittens in his coat.

[thesoftboiledegg]

I went to the smaller mall a couple of weeks ago. The head shop didn't have new Rick and Morty merchandise, but the employee gave me a free snack: crunchy biscuits in chocolate and cream!

Nothing in Rue 21, Hot Topic or the nerdy store, either. I was starting to lose hope until I spotted a new holographic sign in Spencer's. Seasons 1-3 still dominate merchandise, but we're slowly catching up to season six.

Marshall's also had a pair of psychedelic boxers.

That same day, I planned to visit another head shop in the area. Unfortunately, I didn't know that a car cruise was happening on the same street, so I ended up getting stuck in nightmare traffic until I turned around and went home.

The new Tesla location was also open and showing off their vehicles. Cybertrucks are uglier in person.

A week later, I decided to give the head shop another shot. This time, the road was clear. They had a couple of items:

Initially, I passed over the coloring book, thinking it was the same book that I photographed a while back. But I opened the book and found new illustrations from seasons 4-6, including some of my favorite scenes and episodes!

Yes, I like the stupid slut dragon episode.

Anyway, this weekend brought a shock: RUE 21 IS CLOSING! 😭 OK, I wasn't that shocked because this mall is notorious for driving stores out of business, but now the closest Rue 21 is an hour away. And that's not very close!

It's probably just a matter of time before the entire mall shuts down. But in the meantime, Hot Topic had a new shirt, which surprised me because they don't get new Rick and Morty merchandise very often:

I'm glad we're getting more season five apparel, but come on, where's the Crow Witch Rick shirt? Bruce Chutback gets a shirt, but not him? Mr. Nimbus spooking Phoenix Person is pretty funny, though.

And another sign in Spencer's!

One of the nerdy stores had a stack of comics. I love this Summer (variant?) cover.

And, finally, a visit to the bigger mall today resulted in this sign.

So far, it's been a slow year for Rick and Morty apparel. Merchandising usually explodes around Christmas, but before then, we might be limited to the occasional mug, shirt or metal sign.

Or maybe they're getting ready to unleash a barrage of Crow Witch Rick T-shirts and hoodies...right?

[gayandfairycore]

Marmalade and mischievous mornings

Summary: spending a morning in 35 portland row, regular shenanigans ensue between the four of you.

Word count: roughly 800 words(?)

A/n: this is my first time writing for lockwood and co. So I hope I did the characters justice! Feedback is muchly appreciated but please do be kind, This is not proof read.

The smell of toast, and marmalade filled the little kitchen at 35 Portland row, the comforting yellow light of the kitchen casted a warm shadow over the inhabitants of the house. The thinking cloth white, and yet covered in inky black doodles, and words scrawled messily down on the white tablecloth. the biscuit crumbs that seeming always found home on the table had began to make your arms itch as you sat next to your friends around the table, a warm cup of tea in hand.

As an ever drying pen is left uncapped, and discarded. The soft linen curtains blew in the mid morning air a conversation started to arise between the group of four. The conversation went a little something like George rattling on about the case they had just completed, Lucy calling the fact that it was clearly was not a low level type one and was actually very strong type two and that George was getting rusty on his research skills.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

you couldn’t help finding it a bit funny that everyone around the table were in their pjs having a slow morning like usual to rejuvenate themselves after exhausting nightly escapades.

George had yet again refused to wear trousers, Lockwood a plain white tshirt on, as opposed to his regular suit and cut tie. Lucy an oversized shirt, and some comfy shorts, you having adorned something quite similar to Lucy. opting for a band shirt, pj shorts and some fluffy socks. It didn’t look like only last night three out of the four had almost died, in fact it looked as if the four of them had just had a slumber party.

Sadly it wasn’t a slumber party, instead they spent majority of last night running for their lives in a panic, away from a powerful ghost that they were unprepared to face. so majority of the group were surely going to be aching for the next few days.

munching down on a piece of toast and sipping your tea, the warmth from the chipped glass radiated to your hands, the steam from your tea momentarily being inhaled. a soft smile graced your features as you sipped your tea, Lucy and George’s bicker had yet to be stifled.

When you joined the agency Lockwood had actually warned you to usually just tune them out, that’s what he did. It made you laugh originally but dwelling on it now you’ve decided tonight you’ll pull him aside an ask him to teach you to tune out the friendly bickering.

“clearly you’re just a bit rubbish of a ghost hunter then!” George yelled, clutching his biscuit as he swung out his hands, shrugging his shoulders.

“Rubbish?!” Lucy exclaimed in faux outrage, a piece of buttered toast hanging from her mouth as she spoke the gravity of her exclamation declining as it came out muffled by the aforementioned toast.

“I am not rubbish, george karim! how many times have I come to your rescue? Hmm. You wouldn’t call me rubbish then!” The brunette persisted pointing her half eaten toast piece at him her eyes glared at the boy.

Knocking the piece of toast away from himself, “that’s different!” He retorted as slumped back in his chair slightly coy smile adorning his features.

“Oh is it?” The brunette raised her eyebrows her voice no longer yelling, George gulped quietly slumping impossibly deeper in his chair at the girl, her voice lowered in a warning. The same warning voice she used when they had first met. Watching the scene play out from across the table, toothy grin on your face as you admired your friends, your eyes caught Lockwoods. majority of his face hidden behind a crumpled and tea stained newspaper.

You watched as he shook his head at his friends antics, chuckling into his tea cup. Your eyes meeting in a silent melancholic comforting moment.

your attention only moving when you heard your name called, ”cmon y/n back me up!” Lucy’s expecting gaze told you that you had missed something.

Your eyes darting between the pair nodding unsurely and feigning confidence as you replied with an “oh yeah, absolutely what she said.” Before tilting your head in subtle exasperation taking a large sip of your tea, to mask your embarrassment of admiring Lockwood so much that you had managed to tune out the pair.

“No! Y/n how could you!” George exclaimed mock outraged taking over his expression as he slumped back in defeat, Lucy’s laughter filled the air, a lost expression passed over your face as you glanced between the pair, Lockwood pulling you into his side to answer your unspoken question,

“she just stated she’s the better researcher than him, and that anyone would agree she could do it with her eyes closed.” Lockwood smirked stifling a chuckle as he let go of your arms “and you just agreed with her”

The boy smirked, flicking out his news paper with flourish.

Your mouth formed a ‘o’ at the revelation, before a cocky smirk overtook your face “I mean George may be a the best researcher- No offence, Luce-” you pause, looking at their confused and impatient faces with a coy smile hands in in the air as you point to them.

“But what I want to know is, whose the best ghost hunter?” Leaning back in your chair you watch as chaos ensues clasping your hands tigether like you were an old villain

“I’m sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

Both Lucy and Lockwood exclaim, the latter dropping his news paper onto the table and the force shaking and spilling his tea.

A silence formed over the room, as George watched as his competitive friends began to turn on eachother in friendly competition.

“No offence Lockwood, you may be a prodigy and all that but it’s got to go to Lucy!”

“Y/n!” Lockwood exclaimed his eyes darting wildly as his mouth agape

George reclining in his seat as he stifles a laugh lockwood whirling around to face the boy attempting to look serious and upset.

“George- do you think this is funny?!” The ebony haired boy exclaims, as a chuckle breaks midway through his facade as he speaks.

A mischievous grin adorns George’s face as he replies “I do actually I think this is very funny!”

“Lucy cmon back me up here!?” Lockwood pleads his hands together in a prayer eyebrows raised

“Sorry Lockwood!” Lucy retorts “But y/ns right I’m just the superior ghost hunter.” The girl replies straightening her posture and flipping up imaginary jacket cuffs.

A plan begins to formulate in lockwoods mind “Well if it’s like that then” he states before pulling you into him and tickling you

Between bouts of giggles you exclaim “lockwood! Lockwood! No! Oh cmon!”

His fingers never stopping their assault at your side no matter how much you try to wriggle away, he only stops tickling you to bargain

“Say that I’m the best ghost hunter you’ve ever known!”

Struggling to breathe through your laughter you chuckle out an estranged “No!”

Lockwood smirks “Alright then.”

His fingers moving at your sides painfully fast breathlessness taking over you, as tears well in your eyes loud laughter fills the kitchen.

pouting your lips you exclaim in defeat“okay! Okay! You’re the best ghost hunter I’ve ever known!”

Lockwood stops his assault at your sides smiling and slinging his arm over your shoulder before he taunts the brown eyed girl

“see Luce, there’s only one person here whose the best ghost hunter-“ mischievous looks are shared between you, George, and Lucy. As you move yourself from under the arms of the boy.

Lucy exclaims a “sorry Lockwood! But it’s not you, george get him!” And with her exclamation both you and george begin to ambush the boy flinging your body onto his back watching as he loses his footing. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck like he was giving you a piggyback.

“Ah- uh oh!” His yells voice high pitched and shrieking laughter fills the room despite the mess that had somehow accumulated over the time you had been in a tickle fight.

The spilled tea over old newspaper clippings a spilled tub Or marmalade staining the thinking cloth

As the sound of a camera flashing momentarily blinds both you and Lockwood as you both come toppling down the wooden floor your body above lockwoods.

Bashfulness blooms in your chest “oh uh sorry-“

Lockwoods narrows his eyes in disappointment “No it’s quite alright” he murmurs. Moving to sit up on his elbows a look of surprise takes over his face as you turn to look behind you

Your two friends about to dog pile you both both you and Lockwood exclaim almost at the same time “George, Lucy you don’t have to do this!”

The two share a glance at eachother before flinging their bodies onto you both collectively collapsing your attempts to get up. groans leaving you and Lockwood at the added weight.

[headphonegrl]

There’s a folder in Jude’s phone dedicated to you. It's a day shy of your first anniversary when you find out about it, stumbling upon it when he asks you to look for a screenshot of the recipe he’s using to bake biscuits. The exact one your grandma sent him, one of your favorite foods of all time since you were learning to walk and speaking gibberish in the hopes of forming a sentence.

Its title is a plain red heart, sitting above the number three hundred and forty-eight. You stare at it for a moment to make sure it’s right, you swipe out of the app and click back onto it as if to make sure it won’t disappear suddenly. Though it’s still there, the number and symbol staring back at you. There’s a funny lurch in your stomach when you tap the screen with the pad of your thumb, clicking on a random photo when they all show up in neat little rows of three.

There’s one of an arcade machine. The big display screen a cartoony shade of blue with cheesy racing cars and checkered flag graphics, with two grainy photos in the middle. One of Jude sticking his tongue out, his eyes squeezed completely shut. The other of you smiling cutely with all your teeth showing, Jude’s hand appearing from off-screen to give you bunny ears with his fingers. It was your fourth official date and you both spent it collecting as many arcade tickets as possible, only to just end up with glittery bouncy balls and pencils when you traded them all in.

Another one is of you standing by the sink in his bathroom, your hair clipped away from your face. There’s foamy face wash all over your cheeks and on the tops of your fingers, you hold your hands out to display them to the camera. You had promised to spend the night at his place for the very first time, and getting ready for bed had already taken nearly an hour due to all the talking. Jude sat on the edge of the bath wearing one of your fuffy toweling headbands, watching you endearingly as he fiddled with the lid of your moisturizer

One sticks out like a sore thumb, a screenshot from your childhood Instagram account that makes your toes curl with cringe. A heavily filtered selfie of you pouting with a caption that’s a variation of unrelated emojis. After a night out drinking overpriced cocktails, you both ended up sitting in bed scrolling through embarrassing photos. Looking back it might have been the extra tequila shot, but Jude found it so funny he struggled to gasp for air. He set it as his home screen as a joke and forgot to change it back for almost a month.

Further down there’s one from when you both went on holiday. A photo of you sitting on a wooden dining chair, your elbow leaning against the table with your cheek squished against the palm of your hand. You’re wearing the strappy sundress you bought earlier that week in a little boutique owned by an enthusiastic Italian lady. At dinner the strap keeps falling off your shoulder, and when no one is looking Jude plants a kiss exactly where it should sit. 

“Darl, have you found it?” Jude speaks up from the kitchen. Shortening the pet name ‘darling’ into just one syllable, as if the other one will ruin the flow of his sentence. Looking up you’re greeted by him standing next to the mixer, the flour down his front making the text on his shirt unintelligible.

“Yeah.” You click the arrow on the top left to take you back. Scrolling past some selfies and a bunch of pictures of the same sunset, until you find the recipe sitting next to a funny photo of his brother. When you get up to rest it against the shiny countertop so he can read it, your heart feels a little fuller. “Here you go.”

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is a chef; Dream, his boyfriend, is learning to cook to surprise him.

Hob is a chef -- he has thoughts on the best condiments; the correct way to filet a fish; where to get the freshest in season vegetables. He started dating his darling, Dream, ages ago. They live together, love together, and really if Hob isn't cooking in his restaurant, he's with Dream. One of the things that makes Hob happiest is that he's found food that Dream eats/craves and that Dream has put on some healthy weight since they've been together.

This is not about Hob though......this is about Dream. Dream can. not. cook. He burns water, well not water, but the pot the water is in or the kettle for tea is always burning down. But he wants to propose to his Hob and he wants to cook for him to do it.

Dream and Hob have been together for the best years of Dream's existence and Dream wants to make a proposal meal that won't put both of them in the hospital or you know is actually composed of food and not the leftover biscuits from Tesco.

So he asks some of Hob's chef friends to teach him. It goes about as well as well..... in the beginning. (So many burned pans and inedible used to be pasta.) But it only took 3 months (4 months -- shut it Joanna), but Dream can make a full 3 course meal.

He's going to propose this weekend!!

So!!!! Sweet!!!! Dream proposing to his foodie boyfriend via the medium of a nice, home cooked dinner is just the cutest thing ever. Hob would definitely cry so, so much.

Surprisingly the meal goes quite well! Dream’s first course of salmon terrine goes well, and Hob seems genuinely delighted! He even comments on Dream’s presentation! Dream is beaming with pride (while also sweating through his shirt because this is the most important and stressful night of his life).

He's done lamb for the main course - Hob’s favourite. It's taken weeks for him to understand and learn how it ought to be done. Jo and Rachel were absolutely despairing, but Dream was determined. Roasted lamb, with nice vegetables. And ok it doesn't taste as good as when Hob cooks it, but Hob doesn't seem to notice! He clears his plate and asks for more, and even pulls Dream down into his lap for a hug to say well done and thank you. Dream wants to pop the question then and there, but no! Dessert first!

If the baked alaska collapses a bit, and if the ice cream isn't home made, Hob neither seems to notice or care. He's busy showering Dream in compliments. Saying that he always had faith in Dream’s ability to cook. He's so sweet, Dream wants to marry him NOW. but first, he has to propose.

There's no funny business with the ring in a champagne glass (Hob would definitely drink it without noticing). Dream just whips out the ring box and asks before he can lose his nerve. Hob’s look of shock and immediate tearful nodding makes all that slaving away in the kitchen entirely worth it. Dream slips the ring onto Hob’s finger and they don't stop kissing for a very long while.

They fall asleep immediately after doing enough washing up for a small army. Hob keeps his hand on the pillow, so the ring is the first thing he'll see in the morning.

And Dream can't wait for another beautiful new day with Hob. But he WONT be cooking breakfast!

[johnnydany]

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[loulougoingsolo]

"Just yourself be, if weird is you."

I don't often get annoyed by Rhett or Link, and it is probably a strong word to use even now, but...today's Ear biscuits episode kinda made me growl at Rhett a little.

I'm not going to talk about the entire episode, but the guys were answering listener questions, and the last one was about midlife crises, if they have them and how.

Now, as someone who is less than a year younger than Link, I've probably tackled a crisis of my own in the recent times. (You could say my entire adult life has been a crisis, but I won't.) But I loved Link's explanation of his midlife crisis, which was basically finding the limits of how weird he can be without making Christy scratch her head too much. Like, Link basically said he is still exploring what he is and what he wants to be (and I'm not implying he was talking about his sexual identity - I think he meant he is exploring his identity in a broader context of being human). Rhett took this as an opportunity to remind Link that when someone chooses to be "weird", they need to understand that it might impact their relationships. And at that point, I growled.

I'm a weirdo. I spent way too many years of my life trying not to be weird. The funny (not really) thing was, trying to act normal only made me sick, made me behave in a very unnatural, stiff way around other people, and I was miserable. I dare to say, nowadays, after, thanks to a lot of soul-searching, therapy and embracing my true self, I come across much more likable than before. I'm not tense, I don't need to put on a mask, and I am more comfortable with myself, which just makes me more fun to be with. Syre, there are people who think I'm too weird, don't act my age, or make strange stylistic choices. The people I love accept me as I am, and I may have infected them with dashes of self-acceptance, too. So, grrr at you, Rhett.

Seriously though, I love that Link is less tense these days. I know some people are annoyed by him, but I love how he has blossomed from an antsy guy who stuck to wearing t-shirts and jeans to an actual fashion icon. He's less afraid of showing his emotions these days (good and bad), and he's just overall more at ease. I'd hate for his loved ones to try to tame him too much, and I hated the way Rhett managed to make his advice sound like a threat that if Link gets too weird, he'll lose some of his relationships.

Maybe I heard more than was said. Maybe this rubbed me the wrong way, because I see myself in Link more than I do in Rhett, and I recognize the things Link said in myself. I hope to hear other people's thoughts on this episode, and this answer about midlife crisis in particular.

Also, for anyone planning to go hiking with a cat: I love the idea, and if I see you with your cats on the trails I take, I want to be your friend. I have been known to lightly stalk a lady who was in the library with her cat on her shoulders, just so I could coo at the furbaby.

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Behold, the thing I said I was going to do! (x) Nobody asked me to, but I did it anyway. Huzzah

If you don't want to share your actual first initial, you can use a nickname or fictional character instead.

I really tried hard to make these sound as plausible as possible per the way Wodehouse usually names things, so I put an explanation of all my thought processes under the cut.

Also, many of the color category placements are based on speculation and best guesses. If you think you could make a case for the color you're wearing being in another category, you can go ahead and put it there. Category justifications and list of canon references also under the cut.

*EDIT: Some new information regarding the way Drone nicknames work has been brought to my attention. I'm appending the following instructions to the nickname section: if you can think of a food pun based off the name you chose, do so, the stupider the better

First names: This is pretty simple, there aren't that many posh British first names. They mostly reuse the same 15 or so over and over. I used this list (x) of canon Drones as my reference to work off of for all names.

Surnames: All of these are either real British surnames (found mostly here) or real British town names (found mostly here). From Googling, this appears to be how Wodehouse created most of his characters' surnames. I generally tried to avoid names that have already been used, with the exception of Phipps, because Plum really seemed to like that one.

When it comes to place names, he tends to be more liberal about making up generically British-sounding shit or swapping out the suffixes of real places. For example, there's a real town called Steeple Bumpstead, but Steeple Bumpleigh is completely fictional. So I believe my instruction above to mash two names together still squares with the Wodehouse school of naming things, Your Honor.

Nicknames: Did you know that it's REALLY hard to come up with random combinations of sounds that a) are funny, b) sound like plausible nicknames, and c) aren't too similar to funny sound combinations that Wodehouse has already used? Because I do now

Most of the Drones just have regular nicknames based on a syllable of their first or last name (Corky, Freddie, Algy, etc.). Rules of hockey nicknames seem to apply. This left me with a fairly small pool of non-name-based nicknames to use as examples. Other categories of nickname include "personal characteristics" (Barmy, Ginger), "random syllable followed by y" (Tuppy, Biffy, Oofy), "random syllables shoved together" (Boko), "food joke or pun" (Stilton, Biscuit), and "random thing" (Bingo). I tried to include nicknames from all of these.*

I first assumed "Catsmeat" was just a random compound word, which is where Fishbowl and Mousetrap came from. On further searching I found out that his middle name is Cattermole, putting him more between the "based on real name" and "smushing random syllables" schools of thought. I kept them in partly because I thought they were funny and also because I can easily hear Bertie in my head telling Jeeves all about his old pal Mousetrap's romantic troubles. I imagine there are good stories behind them.

Colors: As stated above, placements are based on memory, conjecture, and cursory searches of the text. Some are pretty easy; Jeeves likes neutral tones. Some seem more context-based or depend on the specific shade. Pajamas seem to follow looser rules for acceptable colors, so I didn't count them.

Clothing items Jeeves has approved: shirts in light blue, mauve, and "dove colored"; brown or blue suit; tie with blue and red domino pattern; brown lounge with faint green twill (The Aunt and the Sluggard); blue suit with thin red stripe (Jeeves and the Chump Cyril)

Clothing items Jeeves has NOT approved: Blue suit with thin red stripe, confusingly; green tie that gives Bertie a bilious air (The Aunt and the Sluggard); "cheerful" pink tie (Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest); purple socks (Jeeves and the Chump Cyril); scarlet cummerbund that Bertie tries to justify by telling Jeeves he saw someone wearing a yellow velvet suit downstairs (Aunt Agatha Makes a Bloomer (Jeeves wasn't swayed)); white mess jacket (Right Ho, Jeeves, but I don't think it was on the basis of color)

Jeeves seems to endorse blue and red on some occasions but not others, according to mysterious Jeeves rules. Conspicuous bright red clothing is obviously verboten (see: cummerbund).

There's little data available on green. He approved it once in the form of an accent color, but vetoed a green tie on another occasion. Might be shade-dependent or only acceptable in small amounts.

Lavender gloves and spats tend to show up when a character is dressed in formal wear. I take this to mean that it's a normal color for such, but possibly not for casual wear.

I couldn't find anything on orange, so I made a guess. I think it's a good guess.

I could only find one instance of Bertie wearing yellow: in "Jeeves in the Springtime" he tells Jeeves to bring his "yellowest shoes" and "the old green Homburg." Jeeves doesn't voice any objection in the text, but there's no way in hell Bertie got away with this.

The only thing I can find on pink (excluding pajamas) is the "cheerful" pink tie mentioned above. I decided to err on the side of conservatism and assume that all pink is a no-go, but it's possible Jeeves would be less hostile toward a lighter shade.

For expediency (ha) and because the clothing power struggles become less frequent as the series progresses, I mostly limited my color search to the short stories.

I cannot just casually make a fun little meme. It has to consume my life and turn into an entire research project.

And there you have it! Like share and subscribe, ring that bell (ha) etc. etc.

*EDIT: Some new information regarding the way Drone nicknames work has been brought to my attention. While I still mostly stand by reasoning behind the nicknames, albeit a little more tentatively, I apologize to Catsmeat, Oofy, Biffy, Pongo, and Bingo for misclassifying the origins of their nicknames. The former is actually a food pun based on a real name, while the latter four describe characteristics.

Yeah, that's right, my memes have footnotes within footnotes

[stayfortwominutes]

💭 reaction | lee know & changbin (part one)

prompt; "what do you need?" "... a kiss"

disclaimers; written in second person perspective, very amateur descriptions of kissing, no depictions of the members' personalities, actions or thoughts reflect their true character.

pairing; SKZ members x gender neutral reader

content; fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive*, established relationships | total word count; 1.1 k

related; part two ー hyunjin & seungmin

member; lee know (minho) | wc. 490+

a spirit of festivity kindled to life as the delightful aroma of cinnamon, ginger and honey wafted through the kitchen of your cosy apartment. basking in the serenity of each other’s presence was the perfect way to spend your weekend after a stressful week at your work.

perched upon the counter, you read the recipe as minho precisely measured each portion of flour, butter, sugar, and the necessary spices. he asked you to help combine the dry ingredients, knowing the mindless task would help reduce your mind’s unyielding chatter, diverting your attention to the task at hand. minho had developed a wondrous sixth sense about you, pinpointing the precise moments when you were need of respite before you would ever admit it.

as the two of you shaped the biscuits, you conversed through your respective weeks: you were inundated with more work than you were being paid for, whilst minho delved into details from his new dance routines and funny stories between him and the boys.

carefully placing the tray into the oven, minho took to cleaning the dishes. he insisted on an impromptu karaoke session, which you happily obliged, using a spare spatula as a makeshift microphone, and spontaneously pointing it in his direction as you rearranged your favourite songs into a couple’s duet. the sounds of laughter, music and the hint of spices danced in the air to create a blissfully domestic atmosphere that deliquesced your week’s worries.

ding.

the oven timer signalling its end snaps the two of you from your blithe bubble.

“oh, i forgot the most important thing…” minho muses aloud.

“what do you need?” you move to shuffle yourself off the counter, but minho is quick to hinder your path. he stands in between your knees, hands resting on the marble surface below, at either side of your thighs.

“…a kiss,” he breathes, before interlocking his lips with yours.

his hands come up, one placed behind your neck, and the other finding itself comfortably in the small of your back under your shirt.

the kiss begins slowly, the initial contact feathery, as he takes in your surprise. you immediately melt into his touch, your hands encircle his waist, pulling him closer and pressing your chest to his. you sigh in euphoria, and minho tenderly captures your lips again with his. his warm hands lovingly draw soothing patterns against your skin.

you reluctantly let minho pull back. he rests his forehead against yours.

“love, that's my secret ingredient,” he whispers. his plump reddened lips forming into a coy smile.

“i better take the biscuits out to rest.” the tips of minho's ears flushed red as splashes of pink burnt your cheeks.

now invested in minho’s mischief, you hook a finger in his collar to lure him back into your hold.

“forget the biscuits,” you mutter against his lips, feeling him smile into the kiss.

the two of you were soon lost indulging in the sweet, decadent taste of one another.

member; changbin | wc. 620+

you sit on your couch, observing your boyfriend as he paces back and forth, up the hall and then down to the entryway.

“i didn’t want to be alone today,” changbin whines. his gym session was cut vexingly short after chan and han had been summoned back to the company for a last-minute schedule. although not entirely a fan of exercising yourself, you sympathise and endeavour to offer him some motivation.

“how about we do some exercise together? you can do some sit-ups and i’ll hold onto your legs!” you chirp, conjuring up a cheeky method to motive him. he steadfastly moves the coffee table to the side of the room, and rolls out a thick, cushioned yoga mat.

“won’t be a moment!” you call, sauntering to the bedroom, to don a sweatband, before quickly slathering on a generous layer of changbin’s favourite lip balm: strawberry.

you briskly return and settle yourself with him on the mat in the centre of your living room floor.

“alright,” you begin, lacing your arms together underneath his calves, “before we start, i need you to do something for me.”

“what do you need?” he queries with slight perplexity.

“a kiss.”

“for every five sit ups, i’ll grant one kiss.” the apples of your cheeks round proudly. changbin holds your gaze, as the edges of his mouth begin to turn upwards in favour of your proposition, his demeanour brightening.

“deal!” he exclaims with refound vigour.

the kisses are simple, soft pecks. changbin was still engrossed in fulfilling his quotidian routine, but once he grazed your bottom lip, and recognised the familiar strawberry balm, his mind short circuited.

the next couple of kisses, he grew impatient, hastily pulling up and leaning even impossibly closer to you; lingering to enjoy a moment’s longer taste. you ease back, swatting kittenishly at a rogue hand that comes to cup your cheek.

“play nice,” you facetiously scold.

several more sets of sit-ups pass by, and changbin sheepishly obeys, his lips practically ghosting over yours.

you became crescively enamoured by the scene before you. changbin’s biceps flexed in complete glory as he continued his routine. the plump, porcelain skin an inviting site for just one small bite.

you plunge forward as he comes up; a resounding yelp emits from him. his arms no longer bent at the sides of his head, as he rubs at the glistening, red-tinged indent of your teeth that imprint just below his shoulder.

“what did you just do?” changbin stares back at you, a look of disbelief growing on his face as his mouth hangs agape and his brows start to furrow.

you stumble back, stifling a chuckle of satisfaction. “they looked so biteable.”

“you’ve got biteable biceps, baby.” you croon nonsensically.

“mmm, yummy." you hold your hands up in front of you as you curl your fingers in to mimic claws. a deviously glint twinkles in your eyes.

changbin reciprocates your sprightly behaviour, and nimbly tackles you down onto the mat. his fingers tickling mercilessly at the sides of your torso causing you to writhe underneath him in a fit of giggles. with his elated mood, he peppers kisses from your temples to your cheeks, and along your jaw.

then, a light bulb switches on in his mind, and he halts. continuing to hover over you, the look in his eyes slightly darkens; he licks his lip in a sultry manner.

with a few swift moves, changbin effortlessly hoists you up from the mat, into his arms, and walks the two of you in the direction of your bedroom. a smirk mysteriously graces his features. you study his face, your wide eyes brimming with anticipation.

“it’s time i get a proper reward for all my hard work.”  

consider reading more: masterlist

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა note; as per the poll, i wrote this in second person, and i hope there was enough variation between each member's storyline that it wasn't repetitive! the prompt list i stumbled upon sparked a bunch of different ideas but i couldn't confidently write for all members so i chose the "best" ideas out of all eight that i roughly plotted. as usual, please enjoy, and reblog if you liked it, thank you 💖 please check out the original post from @/scealaiscoite for the prompt! © stayfortwominutes ; september 02, 2023.

[giggly-squiggily]

Hi! For the event I would like to do something with lee!suna and ler!miya twins ehheheh.

My headcannon was that the Miya twins try to tell jokes to see if any one of them can get Suna to smile or laugh. But then they gave up and tried something else to get their fellow teammate to laugh instead.

I hope that’s okay! Have a great day/night!

(Headcanons to Dabbles: OFFICIALLY CLOSED)

Lee!Suna, Lee!Suna, LEE!SUNA AHHHHHHH! :D Oh this is perfection! I've gotcha covered, anon!

CW: swearing!

“Hey, what do you call an emergency joke?”

“A jest in case. You’ve told me this already.” Suna rolled his eyes, trying not to smile at the twin’s collective groans. They’ve been on a comedy high as of late- apparently Kita had a soft spot for bad puns and jokes, leading to the twins believing they were comedy gods.

Suna wasn’t gonna let himself break over the lowest form of comedy.

Even if he had to admit farts sometimes got him.

“Come on, Suna! You have to admit that was a good one!” Osamu whined, trying and failing for a puppy dog stare.

“Stop making that face, you look constipated.” Astumu waved him off, avoiding a swat as he considered their next move. “Okay- try this one out? How do you make an octopus laugh?”

“....” Suna just stared at him. Another bad joke. “Ten-”

“TEN-TICKLES!” The twins both yelled at the top of their lungs, grabbing an arm each and latching tickly fingers into his ribs. Suna startled at the feeling, puffing his cheeks as he tried squirming away. “See? You’re laughing already!”

“Look, he’s gonna smile! He’s gonna laugh!”

Suna was starting to understand why Kita found their jokes funny. “S-Shut up! Gehehet off, you jeheheherks!” He growled, a few giggles slipping out as they focused their energy onto the spaces between his ribs. Atsumu was using a sharp prodding technique, bouncing up and down his side. Osamu on the other hand was far more gentle, pawing at his ribs with curled fingers like a cat making biscuits. “Cuuhuhuht it ohoohohout!”

“He’s laughing! He’s laughing!” The twins cheered in glee, laughing alongside him as they brought him down to a knee. Then two knees. Eventually, Suna was laying half curled on the gymnasium floor while they scratched and prodded at his torso, telling bad jokes the entire time.

“Two cannibals were eating a clown-”

“I went to a sea-food disco!”

“Does this taste funny to you?”

“Mussels!”

Suna felt like he was going to die. Death at the hands of these two idiots and their terrible jokes.

And then- his savior arrived.

“Up you go.” Aran grabbed both of their shirts, lifting the twins off of Suna with ease. “Give the man a break, you two- Suna’s only got two lungs.”

“Ah! Aran! Put us down!” Atsumu cried out, kicking his feet like an entrapped cat.

“Wanna hear some bad jokes?” Osamu offered, grinning when said boy gave him a raised brow.

“Later. Maybe. Practice is over- get your butts home.” Aran released them, shooing them away with a small laugh. He turned back to Suna, offering a hand. “Come on, man- up and at em.”

“Heheh..hehhe..th-thahhanks.” Suna nodded as he was pulled to his feet, his shoulder slapped affectionately.

“No problem.” Aran suddenly grew quiet. Suna was about to ask why when he felt a sudden finger in his upper ribs.

“SHIHIHT!” He yelped, flailing forward before turning with a heavy glare. “Aran, you son of a bitch!”

“Pfft- gehahahahaha!” The older boy cackled, clapping his hands at the reaction. “You really are that ticklish, huh? That’s amazing!” He raised his hands, fingers wiggling. “Suna~”

“Hell no- get back!” The middle blocker ran, leaving behind the sound of Aran’s mirth as he sprinted for home. When he eventually realized he wasn’t being chased, he let out a breathless laugh.

“Bahahstard.” He grunted, no real malice in his tone.