#ketchup bottle debate

[ghostlykidplaidbanana]

Y’all I haven’t posted anything in months I’m so sorry

I made this comic months ago but I had like major art block and I didn’t like the way it turned out, but I found it again and maybe it’s not so bad

Based on how me and my brother argue about which way the ketchup bottle should be. Leo’s the right one.

Actually.. vote on it

[sociopathicartist]

Sans Headcanons

(Some romantic, some platonic, some just general ideas, will label them)

G - Sans probably fidgets a lot.

Not something too noticeable, you’d have to be paying close attention to notice it. Just simple things like tugging on the sleeves of his beloved jacket, or making sure his gloves are snug and tight on his hands. Also just other easy fidget stuff- shifting his weight from one leg to the other, swaying side to side a bit. He keeps his hands in his pockets a lot since he doesn’t like when people comment on it. It’s an easy way for his mind to stay distracted and calm whenever he’s not sleeping or watching a show. His fidgeting isn’t that noticeable, he doesn’t have the energy to bounce his leg or twirl something in his hand all the time, that sounds exhausting, but just something to keep him occupied while he’s busy doing nothing or watching his friends chatter around him.

G - He reads labels on literally everything.

Why? Nobody’s too sure. Anytime he’s handed a soda, or a bottle of ketchup, or he sees his brother’s shampoo in the shower (which he finds funny which brand Papyrus buys since he doesn’t even have hair), he just grabs it and reads the ingredients. It’s just interesting to him what’s inside stuff, and he finds it funny whenever there’s something unexpected. Why is there Red Dye 40 in a potato chip bag? He’s not sure, but he’s glad he just read the ingredients and found out that silly gem. Maybe it’s something else to keep his mind occupied, or perhaps it’s just a silly quirk he has that nobody really questions or notices. Either way, he will be reading the label and ingredients on anything you give him.

R - He loves dropping casual compliments.

Anytime he sees you. Anytime.

‘god, you look great.’

‘i like that color on you’

‘hey, beautiful.’

Just drop of a hat 24/7, almost anytime he speaks. He loves letting you know just how amazing you are, and what’s a better and easier way to show that? It’s something that he can do all the time too- over text, on call, in person, on paper. Unlike other ways to show love like physical touch or making you breakfast in the mornings, compliments and cute nicknames are something he can always give to you.

G / P / R - He’s set in his way a lot of the time.

Nothing demeaning or anything. I can’t place the right word for it, but a good example would be if someone was debating or telling him something that he didn’t think was right, all they’d hear is,

‘yeah’

‘uh-huh’

‘surrrree.”

It wouldn’t apply to serious things like arguments where he needs to be mature and communicate, but it would apply to just an opinion debate. Something like, what color is better for this, what this person is doing that he thinks is wrong but another thinks it’s fine. Sure, it’s not the most mature thing, but everyone has quirks or flaws to them that aren’t very mature. It can feel a bit mocking or facetious when he does it, almost like what you are saying is just kinda being tuned out.

P - He thinks of you a lot.

I put this under the platonic category, but it can for sure apply to romantic.

He likes to send little photos to you over the text of something he saw that reminded him of you. He’ll try and watch a movie or listen to a song that you said you liked. Just little things that he does because he values your friendship, not even needing a romantic reason. He just cares for you, so of course he’s going to take on a hobby you suggested he tries, or cook something you said you liked for both him and Papyrus to try. Why wouldn’t he do that? He’s thoughtful, that’s what friends do.

G - He pays a lot of attention to random things.

I guess this doubles with him fidgeting a lot and reading labels on stuff, but I wanted to elaborate a bit more. He’s a detailed character even though he’s very lazy and nonchalant. He pays attention to people, we know this from in-game dialogue, why wouldn’t it be the same for surroundings? He looks away quite a bit when talking to Frisk in the game, so it’s natural to assume he has a bit of a hard time holding eye contact. When he’s talking to his friends or whenever he’s maybe just alone, he likes to look around at things while he listens. He’ll see the ducks wander across the street, or maybe take note of how hot it is outside that day. He just likes focusing on the small details in life that help remind him a bit of his current state and keep him mentally grounded, whether they’re important to other people or not. Little things like noticing the drawings on coffee to-go cups, or how the color of the sidewalk becomes a bit lighter whenever he takes a turn down a certain street all just help him think a little bit clearer. Grasp a bit more onto reality, let him know everything is real and he’s here. He also just likes noticing the things nobody else really does.

Sorry for not uploading in a while! I’ve been enjoying my summer break:), but I’ll be back to uploading pretty regularly. Do you guys want to see more general headcanons like these, or should I stick to romantic/domestic ones? Hope you enjoyed it!

[stillfrownyclownlol]

ἐρυθρός

In the morning, it's red.

Spots of crimson in the darkness behind his eyes, as he digs the heels of his palms into the hollowed-out cavities underneath his brows. He knows his eyes are there, it just doesn't feel like it.

get up

Plain red as he stares into the mirror, blinking slowly, letting himself get used to his contacts. Letting himself get used to being him. His knuckles are white around the sink, and his arm is still sore from the night before.

go downstairs

Blood red on the table. A pain to clean, but not a big deal. Nobody's home, after all, not even himself.

In the day, it's red.

Gleaming, firetruck red of glossy lockers, dented from roughhousing, covered in stickers, scribbled on with black marker. Worn and weathered from hate, fondness, indifference, love.

time for school

It's the sickly-sweet red of cold ketchup covering soggy fries, and he eats and eats and it all tastes like dust in his mouth. His friends are talking, saying things, but none of it quite reaches his ears.

which class is next? i can't remember

It's the burgundy of her hoodie. His hoodie? He didn't know at what point he'd been wearing it, when they'd started sharing it, when it slowly started staying over at her house more and more often. It's fine. She can keep it.

In the evening, it's red.

Pop-art red, that bright red of soda cans and plastic packaging, specially chosen, that sparks hunger or desire or whatever emotion you feel when you want to buy something equivalent to battery acid.

eat something, you'll need the energy

It's wine-red, or maroon, or purple-red, or whatever fucking color wine is. He knows he's been banned from the liquor cabinet, but his parents don't know he's figured out how to pick locks and he intends to keep it that way. He rolls the bottle between his hands, semi-translucent, liquid sloshing heavily, and he debates chugging the whole thing, just to feel something. Or maybe smash it, gut himself with the shattered end. But the momentum is gone, and it feels like too much effort.

just go to bed

It's neon red, the numbers on his alarm clock burning themselves into his eyes, even when he closes them he can see the seconds ticking down, like sand slipping through his fingers. He's out of time, you see, he has none at all.

At night, it's red.

It's the sky, reflecting the same color in his eyes back like a mirror, unmoving and unchanging. Or is he the one that isn't moving?

please

It's her hair, her head buried into his chest, breaths soft and shallow, and he touches a playful curl to his lips.

please, Aiden

It's her cheeks, and he can't tell if it's blush or blood, and when he wipes a thumb over her freckles, his fingers come back warm.

please, don't do this to me

It's his blood, thick and clogging and cruel, all the words he wants to say are stuck in it, fighting and straining helplessly, like an insect trapped in honey.

it's not fair, you can't- you can't do this-

It's her lips, and his blood stains her teeth, and the kiss is bitter. On his tongue, he tastes love.

please, please, I love you, I love you

He is dying, but his spirit feels as great and as powerful as a king.

me too

[byuteablanc]

One Human and a Whole Lotta Bones! | Skeleharem x Gender Neutral Reader

—

Heya! I hope you enjoy! Please go to the bottom of this post to find the beginning or a different chapter than this one!

Also, if you prefer to read on AO3, click this link!

Happy reading <3

—

Chapter Three: Condiments

“What is with you guys and condiments?” You asked, raising a brow.

You were in the kitchen for a moment, intending to make a pit stop to get some water. You had homework to do. That was until you saw Sans, having already opened the fridge. You asked him to pass you a bottle of water, and he did. What you did not expect was how he also pulled out a brand new family sized bottle of ketchup and started sipping it like you would whiskey on the rocks.

Sans furrowed his brows in questioning, closing the fridge doors. “what do you mean?”

Fortunately for you, all your roommates that drunk condiments were in the same space before you came down. You’ve wanted to ask them this since you got here, and you figured that now was the perfect time.

“You guys drink them, like from the bottle. Do you not think that’s odd?” You wore a skeptical expression on your face. Maybe you were just ignorant because you’re a human, and condiments are considered both alcoholic and just okay drinks, and not add-ons to a meal.

“no not really.” Stretch piped up, taking a swig of his “special honey” as he called it.

“you gotta understand guys, humans ain’t fun. they only use condiments on food, they never drink it.” Red uttered, sounding as if not drinking condiments wasn’t a weird thing to do.

“Red, humans are practical, we’ve been over this,” you eyed him tiredly, “Plus, condiments are so thick in consistency and taste, or in Russ’ case, the opposite!” Russ opened his mouth, agape and offended. “Why would you wanna drink that?”

‘it tastes great. it’s just something you ________, y/n.” Russ signed, you only half understanding what he said.

Your knowledge of sign was limited to a high school grad requirement class, and another graduation requirement class in your freshman year of undergrad. You had been practicing so you could properly communicate with Russ, but you were still not fully fluent.

Russ saw your confused expression and wrote out what he said to you on his notepad he always carries. The face on his shirt also turned to a look of slight annoyance, you didn’t know how that worked.

“it tastes great. it’s just something you need to experience, y/n” was written rather elegantly on the pad. Russ had surprisingly wonderful penmanship.

“Ahh that’s what you meant!” You acknowledged, resigned. “Well I suppose I could understand the affection for ketchup, as it does have a pretty decent taste. But other than that, I can’t understand the others very much.”

Sans seemed get giddy from your agreement, giving him an ego boost. Your other roommates on the other hand, were not happy with this conclusion you’ve drawn.

“you… can’t understand the others that much, huh?” Red eyed you with frustration, you suddenly regretted your words.

“Well! I mean, everyone has their own opinions! You don’t have to listen to me and mine,” You muttered nervously. Sans put his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, only because he was the one you complimented. “no need to apologize for revealing the truth, y/n. they’re finally ketchup with reality.” He smirked.

There was a semi-playful tension throughout the room.

“that’s it! were gonna settle this right here and now ya’ blue bastard!”

Oh boy…

“i challenge you to a condiment debate!” red pointed to you. “you’re the decider and mediator!” he was now speaking to the room. “whoever convinces y/n that they drink the superior condiment wins! who’s with me?”

Everyone except you and Sans raise their hands.

You gulped. “Guys, can’t someone else mediate and decide? Like Papyrus or Edge?”

“they have made their stance on our condiment drinking very clear before, they would think it’s disgusting automatically. there’s no convincing them.” Stretch shrugged, looking to the distance in melodramatic remembrance.

Red eyed you like a predator would to their pray. “and you y/n, you’re malleable, a new addition, easy ta’ convince.” he had his bones hands in position, as if he was about to lurch at you.

You were looking around for areas of escape in case you had to run.

‘don’t scare them red…’ was written on the notepad, with Russ shooting Red a deadpanned expression.

“yeah, plus they already made their decision guys. i know the truth is a hard pill to swallow, but you can always help it go down using those inferior condiments you call delicacies.” Sans smirked.

He was just adding fuel to the fire. You turned to eye him, as he was not helping. He could only chuckle as the room fell deathly silent.

“den. now.” Red uttered, staring at Sans with fury so hot that it rivaled the sun.

You took a mental note to never ever say anything about condiments again.

—

The den, now set up to accommodate four whole lecterns (which they somehow just had on hand?? these skeletons continued to confuse you) and the sofa, which you sat acutely in the middle of, facing them. The lecterns were arranged in a slight half-circle, both ends not completely turned into each other. From where you sat, Sans was on the far left, Red was on the left, Stretch was on the right, and Russ was on the far right. There was a coffee table also, which usually had ornate decoration, now terribly barren for reason untold to you. You wondered if they had these condiment debates before.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON HERE??” Edge inquired, entering the room. “IS IT ONE OF THOSE STUPID CONDIMENT DEBATES AGAIN?”

“You guys have these often?” You furrowed your brows, a smile creeping up to your face. This was too stupid not to.

Edge turned to you. “YES, AND THEY’RE ALWAYS IDIOTIC. WORD OF ADVICE HUMAN, NEVER TALK ABOUT CONDIMENTS.” He has his pointer phalange up matter-of-factly, as if he were talking to a child.

“I appreciate the tip..!” You thanked him, as if you hadn’t already figured that out.

He had a noticeable swell of pride apparent on his face before it quickly went away.

You noticed that with Red and Edge that they seemed to really like positive reinforcement, gratitude, and affection. Even simple “thank you”s and “I appreciate that”s could make them crack a genuine smile.

“bro, you should stay and watch me destroy the competition!” Red requested, fire in his eyes.

Edge thought it over, and you could’ve sworn he took a glance at you in the process. “FINE, I WILL. ONLY BECAUSE I’M FEELING GENEROUS! NYAHHAHAHAHAHAH.” And with that, he came over to sit down on the couch.

“alright, is everyone ready to debate?” Red asked his fellow condiment drinkers. They nodded in response.

There was a pause in the room.

“icalldibstogofirst,” Sans uttered quickly, much to the dismay his competitors.

“as you all know very well,” he scans the room as if he’s in front of a large audience, “condiments are an important thing, something apart of our lives everyday.”

He gets off his podium and starts pacing from the left side to the right side of the room. “what do people think of when they hear condiments? i can tell you they don’t think of mustard, or honey, and certainly not whipped cream. isn’t that last one a dessert anyways?” his competitors were unamused.

He continued to go one about the validity of whipped cream even being a condiment, which you eventually tuned out. You found it funny that this was the only time you ever saw Sans be in any way serious about anything, and he was (mostly) joking.

You also took the time to turn your eyes at Edge, who was actually very entertained by the subject. He seemed genuinely interested.

“but what i’m truing to say is,” sans piped up, probably noticing your lack of attention. “ketchup is infamous with the most recognizable, sweet taste. it never fails to captivate all those who taste it’s delicacy. i rest my case.” he said finally, returning to his lectern in satisfaction.

*Well that was uninteresting, yet also informative?* You thought, hand on your chin in perplexity. Sans made deciding easy, so far you were not sold on ketchup being the winner of the day. Sans just talked himself into a hole in your opinion, focusing less on the condiment he’s arguing for but attacking the others.

“OH ARE WE SERIOUSLY HAVING ANOTHER CONDIMENT DEBATE? WHO BROUGHT UP CONDIMENTS?” Blue groaned, rolling his eyelights.

“IT WAS THE HUMAN’S FAULT.” Edge crossed his arms, selling you out.

You mouth was agape in disbelief, how were you supposed to know this would be the result of an innocent, albeit judgy, question? You just wanted some water…

“WELL LET THIS BE A LESSON Y/N,” he paused.

“NEVER ASK ABOUT CONDIMENTS.” Blue and Edge say in unison, compounding in your condiment based embarrassment.

“Will do!” You replied, blushing.

“you gonna stay bro?” Stretch asked his brother, “it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

“EHHH, I GUESS I COULD! I MISSED THE LAST ONE ANYWAYS.” He shrugged, sitting in the middle of you and Edge. He crossed his legs and arms, leaning back, seeming only a little interested.

Red piped up, excited. “anyways, it’s my turn! y/n, may i ask ya’ a question?”

You cocked your brow in anticipation. “What’s the question?”

“what do humans usually eat hot cats with?” he steps off his lectern and begins to walk around, similar to his competitor before.

Smoothing over the fact that he said hot cats and not hot dogs, you answer, “Mustard, why?”

“that’s what i need to be asking you! ya’ see, y/n…” He looked to the ground. This was starting to feel like a soap opera. “mustard brings out an interesting combination of tang and salt to titillate the tongue in a way that no other condiment can—“

“SANS, DON’T BE SO CRUDE!”

“bro, i’m not! just.. hear me out, alright!” He sighed, a tinge of red on his cheeks. “as i was saying y/n, mustard contributes a flavor that no other condiment can. and, it’s versatile! with it already being so potent in flavor, you can conserve more of it, which saves you a lot of g— or, uh, dollars in this case!” he smirked.

That was something you cared about! It was literally the entire reason why you’re even here.

“unlike other condiments, which you have to drown your food in for it to actually take effect. aHEm whipped cream aHEm.”

Poor Russ was taking all the shots today.

“but, i digress. mustard is the best condiment, i rest my case your honor.”

“Your Honor”? This wasn’t a court—

“This Isn’t A Court, Red. Besides, I Would Be The Judge.” Cinnabar smirked, crossing his arms and entering the room. “And Y/n, You Poor Soul, Did You Ask About Condiments?” He looked sorry for you, already knowing the answer.

“Is it that obvious?” You shrugged, chuckling nervously with a crooked smile.

“Honestly, It’s My Fault. I Should’ve Told You! But, Alas, It’s Too Late Now.”

“ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP MONOLOGUING LIKE SOME FREELANCE THESPIAN OR ARE YOU GOING TO GO AWAY?” Edge frowned, annoyed with the lack of debate.

“I’m Actually Going To Stay, Thank You Very Much.” He walked over to you and sat down, very close to you. Like legs-almost-touching close. You slid away from him just a little to keep some of your personal space in tact.

“so uhh, everyone ready?” Stretch asked, hand on his boney cheek.

There was no protest, so he started his argument.

“honey is the best, why? it’s sweet.” Stretch began, lacking emphasis. He was lacking the drama that this event was accustomed to.

“GO GET EM BROTHER!” Blue called out in support, yelling as if his brother wasn’t a few feet away.

Stretch smiled, emboldened by his brother’s obnoxious support. “it’s also made by bees, which means who ever enjoys it gets to taste a piece of nature’s natural beauty.” he put up his pointer phalange matter-of-factly. “also, it goes with a lot of desserts which is a largely underrated sector of foods, mind you. it may be subtle in it’s flavor sometimes, but it’s there to be added as a general.. trampoline of sorts. it makes the original flavor of a dessert or tea or anything enhanced.”

He got off his lectern and walked to you, “y/n, could you taste this for me?” Stretch offered you the bottle.

“Uhhh, sure!” You shrugged, taking a sip, not thinking much of it.

Cinnabar seemed uncomfortable with this. “Stretch, Were You… Were You Drinking Out Of That?” He looked disgusted.

“yeah why?” Stretch asked, nonchalant. You had finished your sip, encapsulated by the taste that you weren’t paying attention. You decided to take another sip, which no one noticed.

“I Mean Well, Do You Not Care For Hygiene?” He looked perplexed, maybe even a little agitated. “I Mean, Y/n’s Germs And Yours Are Just Mingling Around Now… In Their Mouth…” His eye lights went out, his body language became extremely tight as his hands grip got tighter and tighter.

The room was awkward, which you didn’t even notice as you were now chugging away.

“…what do you—?”

“HELLO FRIENDS! AHH, YET ANOTHER CONDIMENT DEBATE I SEE?” Papyrus announced himself.

“hey bro.” Sans smiled.

“yeah, hey papyrus but cinnabar what were you—?”

“PAPY! Y/N DRANK THE ENTIRE BOTTLE!” Blue pointed to you, turning everyone’s attention.

You burped. “Excuse me! I’m sorry Stretch, I kinda got stuck in a bit of a daze there. It’s really good!” You handed back the empty bottle.

“GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY Y/N!!” Papyrus exclaimed, his mouth agape.

“seriously doll, was it that good?” red asked, bitter.

You could only blush more.

“well that proved my point pretty well, thanks y/n.” Stretch winked at you, walking back to his lectern.

You didn’t think you were going to pick Stretch as the winner either. Though his honey was god, it was addicting! That’s not good at all! A condiment doesn’t make you feel a rush, or at least it’s not supposed to.

Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of cart wheels that need to be oiled. Russ, being the perpetrator, brought out a dark green chalkboard and a yard stick with a hand on the end. At the top of the chalkboard, the words “The History of Whipped Cream” was wrote out in elegant cursive.

Russ began to explain how whipped cream came to be, and with that, its value in the league of condiments. He was honestly going really fast with his writing so it was hard to follow. You looked around to see if anyone else was struggling, but everyone else seemed completely enraptured, even his competitors.

With a bow, serving as the end of his speech, clapping erupted throughout the room. Some of your roommates were brought to tears by how moving his demonstration was, your roommates never failed to leave you guessing.

Thinking about Red’s display, you felt like he addressed a lot of good points. But in your experience, giving him an ego boost when it came to his condiment wasn’t something you wanted to do. And with Russ, you hardly understood what he was trying to convey because he was writing and then erasing so fast!

“so y/n, you’re basically the judge so, who do you think wins?” Sans inquired.

Suddenly all eight pairs of eyes were on you, you blushed in reaction. You took a deep breath, stood up and took your stance.

“I think you all lost.”

“What!?” They all react in unison.

“You guys, your condiments are clearly special to each of you for your own reasons. It makes no sense to “declare which person likes the better condiment”, when they’re all winners!”

Sans groaned, “aw c’mon y/n, you have to have some sort of opinion that isn’t based in equality huh?”

“NO! Y/N IS RIGHT!” Blue agreed.

“THIS WHOLE DEBATE THING IS NONSENSICAL AND UNPRODUCTIVE!” Papyrus added, rolling his “r” in “unproductive”.

“Also, If Your Condiment Brings You Happiness, Then Why Argue Who Has The Better One? It’s Better To Just Agree To Disagree And Move On.” Cinnabar shrugged.

Edge scanned the room. “AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKES WHEN THEY DEBATE ABOUT THIS?”

“Yes.” You, Blue, Papyrus, and Cinnabar said in unison. Edge sunk into the couch in defeat.

‘Then how will we know which one is better?’ Was suddenly written on the board by Russ.

“We don’t! We all like our own things and don’t care about which one is better in the grand scheme!” You confounded, very sure of yourself.

…

“well that’s boring.” Red concluded, rolling his eyelights.

—

Previous | Current | Next Chapter

[number1jaymerrickhater]

So today at work I actually got a break and decided to use those precious 30 minutes to take a fat nap. While I was asleep I had the most vivid dream that I woke up, my break ended and I went back to work. As I was working Troy fucking Wagner walked in. I saw him and internally debated whether it was him because for context I work at an offbrand petco in new york state and what the fuck would Troy Wagner be doing there. Well he comes up to the register with a bottle of ketchup (we don't sell ketchup), I scan it, and then I look at him and ask "Hey so you made Marble Hornets...what are you doing here at offbrand Petco?" He looked me in the eye, pointed out the window behind him and said "dog." and when I turned around his car was parked out front (I don't know how I knew it was his car I just did) and there was a dog sitting in the drivers seat with its paws on the steering wheel. Then I woke up for real.

I have no idea what the fuck any of this means...

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait (Season 2) Chapter 20

The Waking Dead Part 2

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: People returning from the dead, a man in a top hat showing up all over the place, what is happening in Portland?

By the time Lorelei got home, she had received a phone call from Nick, asking to meet at the trailer for some help researching a wesen who may be involved in their case. Lorelei had gotten back into her car and headed that way, stopping to coffee for him and Hank as sort of the peace offering. “I come bearing coffee.” Lorelei announced as she entered the trailer.

“Thanks Lore.” Hank said, taking his from her.

“Should you even be drinking coffee?” Nick asked as Lorelei handed him his coffee.

“I can. In moderation. But mine is a hot chocolate.” She said, taking a seat at the table. She looked at Hank. “I suppose Nick filled you in?”

Hank nodded. “He did. Uh, congratulations, I guess. How far along?”

“Thanks. And thirteen weeks, according to the doctor.”

“And it’s really the captains?”

Lorelei sighed. “Yes, it is.” Nick scoffed and Lorelei looked at him. “Do you want to see the ultrasound pic of your niece or nephew?” Nick glanced at her, his expression changing a little. Lorelei pulled the picture from her purse and handed it to him.

As he looked at the picture, his expression changed more. “So, I’m gonna be an uncle.” He commented, a small smile on his face even though Lorelei could see he was trying to stop it.

Lorelei smiled. “Yes, you are going to be an uncle. Whether you like it or not. Now, what are we doing here?”

The two detectives started filling her in on the case, the man in the top hat, and people rising from the dead. It took a while, but they were finally able to find something, after a few hours. Pausing only to go out a grab something for a late lunch.

“I had followed the vodou priest to Bois Caiman, Alligator Woods, near Cap-Francais.” Nick read from the book he’d found the information in. “Hired by the crown, I was to determine if the priest was wesen. The priests name, Dutty Boukman, translated as the Book Man, and given to him because he had taught slaves to read. As Boukman presided over the vodou ceremony, one of the slave women started dancing, knife in her hand.” Nick looked a little confused. “I found her movements exotic and alluring, until she slit the throat of a black pig and gave the blood to those around her, who all swore to rise and to fight to kill – do you have any extra ketchup?” He said, pausing to direct the question towards Hank.

Hank handed one over. “Last one. We should just keep a bottle in here.”

“Then I’d need a refrigerator. And where am I going to put that?”

“You don’t have to put ketchup in the refrigerator!”

“No! You two are not starting that debate again.” Hank told them firmly, before he picked up the reading. “He was referred to as the Baron, with several names attached to him. He is the head of the Guede Family of Loa, one of the vodou deities who accept those who have died to the realm of the dead. Later I was to witness him wake a man who appeared to be lifeless and who was about to be buried. When I finally found the courage to confront him, I found that I was dealing with a Cracher-Mortel, whose spit can induce a death like trance.” Hank paused as he turned the page, the including a drawing of a Cracher-Mortel spitting on a man. “But I was forced to retreat unable to dispatch the Baron.”

“So, the Cracher-Mortel makes zombies.” Lorelei commented, glancing at the men.

“Seems like it.” Hank replied, as Nick’s phone rang.

It was Monroe, asking Nick to come to the spice shop. Lorelei realised she hadn’t told Nick about Juliette seeing the others woge. Maybe she would let the others explain it.

On the way to the spice shop, they stopped into the precinct to fill Sean in what was happening. He looked surprised when Lorelei walked into his office with Nick and Hank. “Is everything alright?” He asked, looking concerned. Lorelei looked at the other men, leaving it up to them.

“We think we’re dealing with a cracher-mortel.” Hank told him, once they explained the situation. “Who has the ability to induce a vodou-like trance.”

Sean sighed and looked at Nick. “More of your books?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah.”

Sean sat back in his chair, looking at Hank. “You’re getting pretty comfortable with all this.” He commented.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t call it comfortable.”

Nick intervened. “We’re trying to get an I.D. on him, but so far no go.”

“Now, why would he pick up two apparent strangers, drug them, and then put them in an unoccupied house?” Sean asked.

Nick looked mystified. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”

“If the same thing happens to her as Mulpus. Is she going to start losing it?”

“Probably.” Lorelei replied faintly, although her mind was thinking about why would the cracher-mortel put two people under his influence into a house together.

“I’ll ask her when we find her.”

“All right. Keep me posted.” Sean said, before looking at Lorelei. “I hope you don’t plan on getting too involved in this. Especially in your condition.”

Lorelei sighed. “Nope. Just helping with research. Cross my heart.”

Sean seemed happy with that answer. Lorelei and the two detectives left after that, heading towards the spice shop.

Not long after they arrived at the spice shop. Monroe, Rosalee, and Bud filled Nick in on what had gone down that afternoon. “What do you mean she knows?” Nick asked.

“It…It wasn’t my idea.” Bud said, quickly deflecting the blame.

“We did what you wanted me to do.” Monroe told him. “When you brought Juliette over to my house that night.

Nick sighed, unsure of what to say. “So, you all--?” Hank asked.

“Woged. Yes, we did.” Bud answered.

Rosalee stood up, moving around the counter. “I went first.”

“And then I guess it was me, but not on purpose.” Bud added.

“And then I did.” Monroe said, finishing it up.

Nick crossed his arms. “Well, how did she take it?” He asked expectantly.

“Uh, not so good. She, uh, walked out.” Bud told him.

Nick didn’t look happy. “She walked out. Did someone get her? Is she ok?”

“Nick.” Monroe said gently, approaching him. “She came back.”

Nick looked around at them. “You’re sure she’s all right?”

Rosalee answered that one. “She came back because she wanted to. I think she was about as ready as a person could be.”

“She took it better than Hank did, when I woged for him the first time.” Monroe added.

Hank piped in. “Let me just say I didn’t take it well the first, second, or third time.” He admitted.

“That is true. By the fourth time, you managed to stay in your seat.” Lorelei commented.

“The first time is always rough.” Bud added. “I…I remember the first time my dad got really angry me, and I was just this little eisbiber…and…” He cut himself off when he saw everyone looking at him. “Nobody’s interested.”

“Nick.” Monroe said. “Not everyone is able to make the transition from kehresite to kehrseite-schlich-kennen.”

“Most people can’t even say it.”

“I’m sure you’re going to talk about this at your dinner tonight.” Rosalee told Nick. “But she didn’t come here because she was scared. She came here because she wanted to know.”

“Funny thing is, she thought you were wesen.” Bud added with a slight laugh. “As if you could be.”

Nick nodded; arms still crossed. “Well, at least I won’t have to lie anymore.”

“You can’t change who you are Nick. “Lorelei said.

“And we don’t want you to.” Bud said earnestly.

“You’ve finally reached that point of no return man.” Monroe said. “She’s either going to accept you for who you are…”

“And for who we are.” Bud added.

“Or she won’t be able to.” Rosalee finished.

“At least you’ll know the truth, one way or the other.” Hank told him.

Nick nodded. “Yeah. I guess this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.”

“We all have.” Lorelei said, looking around at the others.

Lorelei eventually made it back home. She fed the animals, had a shower and curled up on the couch, book hand and the tv on in the background. Not long after she sat down, there was a knock on the door. Grumbling a little, Lorelei got up, moving Daisy to another spot and padded over to the door. She peered through the peephole and felt her heart pick up a beat as she saw Sean standing outside. She quickly opened the door and let him in. “You know, I think you’ve earned back the privilege of using your own key.” She told her with a smile.

He returned it. “Noted. Pizza?” He said, before holding up a pizza box.

“Perfect.” She said, closing the door behind him. “And it feels like a eat in front of the tv kind of night.”

Sean nodded and continued moving towards the living room. “Did you find anything else about the cracher-mortel?” he asked, setting the pizza on the coffee table.

“No.” Lorelei said, as she joined him with some plates and napkins. “But there was a distraction. Juliette had Monroe, Rosalee, and Bud woge for her. So, they were kind of filling Nick in on that.”

Sean looked surprised. “Really?”

Lorelei nodded, walking back to the kitchen to get some water for the both of them. “Yeah. I think she handled it pretty well. But now it’s a case of seeing how she takes it all in.”

“Hopefully for Nick, she’s accepting.” Sean remarked as Lorelei returned to his side.

“Hopefully.” Lorelei sighed as she sat beside him.

After finishing dinner, they curled up together on the couch, watching tv. At one point however, Sean pulled away. “There is something I have to tell you.”

Lorelei looked at him in confusion. “What is it?”

Sean sighed. “My brother is in Portland.”

Lorelei’s eyes widened. “He is? Why?”

Sean shrugged. “I don’t know. He isn’t exactly forthcoming with information, and my sources had no idea he was coming here. But I am worried that he may be here for you. And possibly Nick as well.”

Lorelei bit her lip as she considered what he had said. “So, I should be careful. Watch my back.”

Sean nodded. “Yes. And please try not to go anywhere alone.”

Lorelei nodded. “I’ll try not to.” She promised him.

Sean leant forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

A/N: And we are almost at the end of Season 2. One more chapter left.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme, @nu1freakshow, @star-yawnznn, @bella250

Banner by @cafekitsune

[stuffyflowers]

I feel like Ceroba would probably drink a straight bottle of ketchup

Whether this is because she was already drunk or a very funny force-of-habit moment is up for debate

I was so confused by this ask when I woke up this morning then I remembered last night. ceroba = sans undertale theory. ok. true.

[natikoko]

Agent 4 (Adrian) character sheetzzz

I’m so sorry my baby I was procrastinating doing yours for like a week I’m so sorry

Adrian. Last Name unknown. 19 years old.

- 6’1ft

- From a lanky kid to almost 250 pounds of beef and gain. Had an extreme growth spurt in his teenage years, and combined with constant agent activity, made him into the guy he is today.

- Observant and calculating. Fueled by one single-minded determination at a time, he is easily one of the most effective agents in the NSS.

- Is selfish but selfless. His selfishness can be mistaken for heartlessness, and his selflessness can be mistaken for self sabotage. Make of that what you will.

- Insecure and vulnerable during splatoon 2, where he was fourteen. Helping Marie helped him boost his confidence plenty and made him feel needed when he was lost. His relationship with Marie is strong because of it.

• he doesn’t mention his life before meeting Marie often. It’s a sore spot.

- Confident and sensible. Manages to stay calm during the most stressful of situations. Meditates in his free-time helps. He’s very reliable.

- Can be a pushover at times. He just wants to help everyone!

- Enjoys literature and music. Is studying for a degree in music theory at Inkblot art academy. Takes up many extracurriculars (but has a hard time managing his time)

- Mains rollers, specifically Carbon’s or Krak-ons. Used to use dualies plentifully, but considers himself too tall to preform the evasive maneuvers he constantly did. Prefers strenuous weapons.

• Is ranked score is very high, despite him not playing often. Is probably really rusty now.

- Gets money funneled from his parents. Has a complicated relationship with them.

- He actually didn’t meet both 3(tilly) or 8(marlon) until almost half a year after Octo Expansion occurred. He was busy with his academics and Tilly and Marlon were both recovering from the deepsea metro, so they couldn’t meet right away.

• they instantly clicked when they met. They visited each other frequently and it strengthened their relationship.

• he “amazingly brought these two bumbling idiots together because they couldn’t confess” which is a complete lie, because Adrian is horrible with romance. They wouldn’t never started a relationship if Marlon didn’t state the obvious.

• Many sleepless nights trying to understand his feelings for those two…

- Is very good at shuffling cards, for some reason. But he’s horrible at card games, so…

- Physically the strongest out of all the NSS members. Marlon is strong, but wouldn’t last long without a weapon for aid. Tilly is his strongest competitor. It’s a debate amongst the NSS.

• he and Tilly fought to settle this debate. Adrian clotheslined Tilly so hard she momentarily passed out not even three minutes into the fight and it’s obvious who won

- Doesn’t cry. It’s an unhealthy habit that he’s trying to unlearn. When he does cry, it’s messy and snotty and it’s loud and gross

- But he will NOT let his girls bottle their emotions up. He will beat those feelings out of them if he has too. If he sees any ounce of repressed trauma he’s going therapist mode

• he sees a therapist! It’s nice to just have someone to talk to, yknow?

- Is the only one in the relationship who can remotely dress well. That’s not saying much

• wears plenty of shorts and plain t-shirts. Very much is a minimalist clothes kinda guy, but that’s on par with his shitty fashion sense (me tease)

- Huge fan of Hightide Era and Ink Theory

- Animals HATE him and he does not Know Why

- Speaks very loudly. Will ask the simplest question but shout it. He’ll ask “WHATS FOR DINNER‼️‼️” without knowing he’s shouting. Cannot control the volume of him voice

- Weird eating habits. Puts Ketchup in his tuna and peanut butter on his chips but he eats a lot of good home-prepared foods so it cancels out

- Tilly called him babygirl and I don’t think he’s been the same since

- Best hugger! They’re warm and comfortable and welcoming and he always rocks you back and forth, maybe even a firm pat on the back

- A big excitable guy! Don’t be mean to him!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Bloodmoon: *receives a glow in the dark Moon plushie from Lunar as a present*

Bloodmoon: *finds an old dirty teddy bear in the trash, attempts to clean it up, replacing the missing eye with a bottle cap and messily stitching up the leg hole*

Bloodmoon: *gives Lunar the mostly fixed up bear*

Lunar: I love him! I'm going to call him Ketchup!

Bloodmoon: *debates if he should tell Lunar those are actually bloodstains*

If Bloody did tell him, Lunar would probably just call him Stainy instead of Ketchup.

[alexanderives]

WHEN: December 28, 2022 WHERE: Rudy’s Diner, Obsidian City WHO: @rohawkins​ AVAILIABILITY: Closed

“That’s disgusting.” Alexander frowned down at the plate a grouchy waitress had thrown across the table at Rose just a moment ago. “Are they supposed to look like that?” He meant the eggs, of course. And the answer was that they were perfectly good eggs. Better than perfectly good, in fact. Some people came to Rudy’s because they believed they had some of the best breakfast in the city. 

Suspiciously, he eyed the bottle of ketchup between them, wondering what she was going to do about it. He’d heard some humans put it on the eggs. Apparently it was a topic of contention among the species, maybe among all the other species too. Alexander only knew he would never know where he fell on the debate. 

“Conceptually just... awful.” He continued. “You wouldn’t fry up a ladle of sperm.”

[nickgerlich]

Rome Where You Want To

Proving once again that a good meme should never go unnoticed, we have yet another company jumping into the ephemeral fray of “hot today, gone tomorrow” trends. Thanks to a TikTok phenomenon focusing on a supposed male preoccupation with the Roman Empire, Panera has repackaged what it already has and bundled those items into a like-named promotional menu.

And, just like Heinz Ketchup and its Seemingly Ranch juggernaut, Panera has also proved there is nothing new under the sun. The folks at the corporate kitchen are minding their business, while the marketing folks have been spin doctoring.

As we do.

The meme had its origins on Instagram in 2022, and was implicitly poking a little fun at the usual gender differences. Men, as the trope goes, are often in a distant space, pondering war, pestilence, and, according to the meme, the Roman Empire. Why the meme’s originator chose the Roman Empire is debatable. Perhaps it is because the Roman Empire was so far-flung and powerful that it just captures the fancies of the male mind.

Or, perhaps it is just that, as men age, it is not uncommon for them to fall in love with more esoteric subjects, like history, often the history of a very specific object, era, or otherwise. I will seize the opportunity to vouch for this, as once I turned 50, I fell head-over-heels in love with old roads. It started with Route 66, and has since expanded to all the old roads in the US.

Don’t ask why; I just do. Forget the Romans, because I’m more interested in where humans once went. Just yesterday I was deeply engrossed in a Facebook side-chat about dating roadside rubbish. And I don’t mean dating in a romantic kind of way.

“How often do you think about the Roman Empire?” Well, Panera wants you to think of several menu mainstays similarly. That’s another way of saying “often.”

But just like with Heinz, the shelf life of this meme, which is already in its second iteration and having jumped from Insta to TikTok, will not last long. It was funny the first few times, but that kind of buzz wears off quickly. It’s the bottle rocket du jour, little different from clothing and hair fads that had their season in the sun. Just look back at old photos, and tell me if you didn’t cringe a bit when you saw yourself sporting an asymmetric hairdo while wearing skater fashions. Trust me, it gets worse as you get older. Next year, we’ll probably wonder what the big deal was with the Romans.

As for the menu items, the only one that is remotely “Roman” would be the Caesar’s Salad, but the remaining choices are the things that have been menu favorites for years. And that is precisely the hope of the campaign.

The media attention that Panera has received is, of course, priceless. You can’t begin to pay for all the news items, social media posts, and so forth, that Panera has enjoyed while basking in the spotlight. It almost makes you wonder why others didn’t do likewise.

Come December, though, they better have dropped this. The Roman Empire will be as stale and moldy as that loaf of sour dough you bought at the grocery a few days ago. Strike while the iron is hot, or don’t strike at all. And long before it goes completely cold, put it away.

Well done, Panera. I may not be thinking about you or those menu items, but I am thinking the PR buzz you generated is a menu item that all businesses dream about. Served hot, of course.

Dr “I Prefer The Roaming Empire” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[silvermare]

before i start on Tumblr Discourse™ i want to preface with the following:

I'm most likely autistic, my thinking is rigid and I am Bad at Social Rules

vampires aren't real and therefore i have thought *extremely little* about the ethics of them

sex work is real work and there is nothing unethical about people choosing to do sex work of their own accord. obviously sex trafficking is unethical as hell, survival sex work is something that shouldn't exist but does (but that's on society/government for it needing to be a thing in the first place, not the person doing sex work), but there are actually people out there that do sex work because they want to, and that's ethical as shit.

Consent is important to me. Informed consent is even *more* important to me.

I've got a lot of friends and acquaintances that are in the BDSM community and very few of them are Dom(me). Pretty much all the people I know follow Risk-Aware Consensual Kink, which means they go into a situation with the full awareness of the risk. High risk high reward or whatever, but at least they know the possible consequences.

My dad raises beef cattle. I have raised a bottle calf when I was a kid. I recognize the cattle as intelligent beings that we treat well for all their life till their last bad day when they go to freezer camp. Our thanks for their lives is treating them with kindness while they live, minimizing their suffering at the end, and not being wasteful with what we take from them. This probably affects my sense of ethics.

I grew up poor. Not "ketchup sandwich" poor, but "I saw mom cry over an overdraft notice multiple times when I was a kid", never had cable/satellite, never been to Disney anything, "vacations" were going to visit family a 12 hour drive away and my parents tag teaming driving overnight to minimize Awake Children time and also because they couldn't really afford to get a hotel room. We never went hungry, though, and community and sharing the load are values I grew up with. My dad plows the country road in the winter with the farm tractor and does other upkeep/maintenance he's uniquely qualified for, one neighbor had bees for years and we would get honey from them, another neighbor has an enormous garden and gladly shares his produce. Oh, and my dad's neighbor and also cousin also has a farm and different heavy equipment - mostly dad borrows equipment from said neighbor/cousin, but sometimes neighbor/cousin borrows something from my dad. It's truly a community. Supporting each other with what you have to give, be it time, resources, or skill, is just a way of life where I grew up.

So anyway, Stefan from the Patricia Briggs Mercyverse (as of current times) has a "flock" (for lack of better words) of humans who are aware of the risk and choose that life anyway. Some humans get power, some get freedom from a bad situation, one has her (blood) cancer kept at bay. They're people that could not be replaced by a sexy lamp in the book. They chose that life. High risk, high reward.

I'm not going to say that it's ethical for vampires to exist, because they don't exist and even if they did I feel like it would be silly (and potentially horrible) to debate the ethos of simply existing in the first place. World history kind of has a record regarding people in power debating the ethics of certain marginalized people from simply existing. Y'know. Like the Holocaust. I'm not saying that vampires are a marginalized people, I'm just saying people - humans - can't be trusted with the ability to debate the existence of really anything. The ethics of choosing to become a vampire is one thing, the ethics of simply existing another. Debate the ethics of *actions*, not existence.

As it happens in many vampire universes, Stefan does not choose to be made into a vampire. There's a whole bucketload of unethical things that happen there. But once he exists as a vampire, he's still sentient. He still has the capacity to make choices. Well, probably aside from Vampire Puberty Bullshit™ or whatever. But that's on Stefan's creator to manage. If you have a kid, it's your job as parent to teach them to not be awful and guide them into being an adult. If you acquire a dog, it is on you to teach the dog how to not be awful and take preventative measures to prevent, idk, a case of mangled mammal in your front yard. Vampires, of course, aren't real, so there is no way to know the Correct Way To Wrangle Your Fledgling. Also, this is probably controversial, but I think of humans as no better or worse than dogs or cows. If a human has something fundamentally wrong with them that they cannot exist without irrevocably harming others and giving nothing back, it is my own opinion that they should be treated like any other non-human who cannot exist without attacking/actively harming others and does not give back. Also, this is just my opinion and I do not expect others to agree with me. I also will not try to change other people's minds about it.

ANYWAY.

I'll grant you that there's a whole lot of unethical actions between Stefan's creation and current times, in-universe, but honestly? If I didn't have depression and got turned into a vampire, I'd probably still want to exist, too. Sure my entire existence requires that I consume the blood of those I use to be part of, but it doesn't require I kill them for such an act. If I wanted to exist and were transformed into a vampire, I'd probably look for people I could support - with shelter, with health, with whatever I had in my power to provide that they want or need - in exchange for feeding off them occasionally, so as to not drain any one person. Blood is a renewable resource, after all, and if your needs are not incompatible with someone else's existence, I genuinely do not see a lack of ethics in choosing to live as Stefan does - exchanging support for food, while not depending on one specific person at a time to prevent harm.

If it's poor people out there that most frequently takes advantage of vampires? The onus of ethics falls on the society that requires that to be an option in the first place, same as sex work. If the person is poor enough to revert to survival sex work or survival blood "donation", that's on society/the government for allowing this to happen in the first place. If my options were to work at <generic retail store/fast food place> or to let a vampire suck my blood a couple times a month? Vampires are only gonna take my blood, not my soul. People are awful and retail workers are underpaid, under respected, and treated horribly. (I myself worked retail for a couple years, which is why I'd choose the vampire every time. I bet lots of folk out there working retail would agree with me.)

So I guess basically vampires, generally speaking, are a pretty good analog for minimum wage retail/fast food employers. I'd call Stefan more like Costco - not commonly found outside of large metropolis areas, vastly outnumbered by predatory businesses, and treats its employees pretty well aside from still having to interact with people lmao

I know that’s kind of the go-to thing to show that a vampire character is “one of the good ones” or whatever but it actually seems a little bit more fucked up for a vampire to steal blood from a blood bank than for a vampire to attack people for blood, at least as long as it’s not the kind of vampire where a bite is instantly lethal like it never stops bleeding. 

People can recover from losing some blood but blood bank blood is constantly in short supply and is reserved for people who imminently need blood transfusion of a specific blood type or else they die.

[themisinformer]

Grandma Goes Wild By Putting Ketchup, Mustard, on Her Burger

CLARKSVILLE, TENNESSEE - A local Clarksville family were in for a shock at their family barbecue this week when 82 year old matriarch Dorothy “Grammy” Johnson stunned relatives by adding both ketchup and mustard to her hamburger, in what witnesses are calling the most reckless display of condiment behavior since Uncle Jerry’s mayo incident in 2014.

The incident, which has since made national headlines, unfolded when Grammy Johnson, who is typically known for her culinary conservatism— favoring plain buttered toast and Jell-O molds—boldly grabbed the ketchup bottle and gave her burger a healthy squirt. Spectators gasped, but nothing could have prepared them for what happened next: Grammy reached for the mustard.

“It was like watching a slow motion car crash,” said grandson Tyler, 24, who managed to capture the moment on his cell phone. “We all just froze. It’s one thing to dabble with ketchup at her age, but mustard too? Her ass went full send!”

According to family sources, Grammy has always preferred her hamburgers “clean” — meaning no condiments, no cheese, and sometimes even no bun. The sudden culinary evolution she displayed at the barbecue has left relatives baffled. “Last year, she ate half a burger patty with a knife and a fork, and called it a ‘sandwich,’” said daughter in law Linda. “Now, she’s living life without caution. I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

As Grammy squeezed the mustard bottle, shocked onlookers exchanged worried glances. “We’ve all got that rebellious streak in the family, but Grammy? She’s always been a straight shooter. This was just… unexpected,” Grammy’s son Mike explained, still visibly shaken. “When she looked at me and said ‘Live a little,” I nearly spit out my potato salad.”

The move has sparked debate among the Johnson family, with some wondering if Grammy’s newfound zest for burger condiments is a sign of something deeper. “She’s been watching a lot of cooking shows lately,” Grammy’s granddaughter, Emily, noted. “I think Gordon Ramsay is starting to rub off on her.”

Not everyone in the family is on board with Grammy’s newfound appreciation for condiments, though. Cousin Beth, who prides herself on being the “family foodie,” was overheard muttering, “Next thing you know, she’ll be putting sriracha on her hotdogs. It’s a slippery slope, ya know?”

Health experts are divided on the matter, with some cautioning against culinary experimentation at a later age. “Condiments are fine in moderation,” says Dr. Rachel Klein, a health specialist and senior nutrition. “But ketchup and mustard together? At her age, that’s like playing with fire!”

Regardless, Grammy seems to be totally unfazed by the uproar. When approached by the Misinformer for comment, she simply shrugged and said, “Life is too short for bland burgers.” However, insiders speculate that the condiment rebellion might not stop here. Unconfirmed reports claim that Grammy has been eying the relish jar, and sources close to the family say that she’s even made cryptic comments about “getting wild with some onions.”

For now, the Johnson family is left to wonder: Has Grammy just started a revolution, or is it just some phase? One things for sure—next month’s barbecue will never be the same. As grandson Tyler put it, “First ketchup and mustard, tomorrow the world. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but what I do know is that we need to buckle up.”

[reluctantretireebookreviews]

Kikkoman Finally Settles the Debate: This Is Where You Should Store Your Soy Sauce

Soy sauce is more than just the condiment packets that come with your takeout. It’s an umami powerhouse that makes meat taste meatier, deepens the flavor in soups or sauces, and finishes vegetarian and vegan dishes without breaking a sweat. But once you’ve opened a bottle, where do you store it? We learned that most shelf-stable grocery products such as ketchup and mayo benefit from being…

[ghstfacr]

❝ there are better hills to die on but i find this one quite comfortable. ❞

a few various sentence starters .

⸺  𝗦𝗛𝗘  𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦  𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛  𝗣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗬  𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗗  amusement  as  her  husband  and  her  brother  in  law  bicker  .  sam  is  winning  ,  of  course  ;  but  that  doesn't  seem  to  stop  dean  from  considering  himself  the  champion  of  the  argument  .  jules  ,  on  the  other  hand  ,  finds  the  entire  debate  entirely  useless  . . .  but  pretty  fuckin'  funny  .  ❝  i  don't  know  ,  packets  vs.  bottle  of  ketchup  is  the  dumbest  argument  i've  ever  heard  ;  but  i  gotta  give  it  to  sam  on  this  one  .  packets  are  so  much  packaging  for  so  little  ketchup  ,  it  fully  outweighs  the  benefit  of  portability  .  ❞  she  shrugs  ,  stealing  a  fry  off  of  the  oldest  hunter's  plate  -  and  repaying  him  with  a  peck  to  the  cheek  .  the  case  to  which  the  winchesters  have  been  called  is  incredibly  difficult  ,  physically  and  emotionally  .  but  for  the  moment  they've  agreed  that  it  stays  at  the  door  of  this  old  diner  ,  in  which  they  find  some  of  the  best  food  and  silliest  conversation  topics  they've  had  in  weeks  . ❝ i'm just saying , there's hills you could die on that aren't covered in litter . ❞

[meret118]

On June 27, 2023, Heinz UK tweeted, “FYI: Ketchup. goes. in. the. fridge!!!” Actually, the answer has been on the product information found on the bottle all along. The Heinz ketchup label reads: “For best results, refrigerate after opening. Shake well before first use.”