#snobbing

[janahanooo]

Yuu: what should I gift him? He's such a snob and mean and I bet he would laugh at me if I give him a cheap gift-

Ruggie: the best gift you could give him is a pillow.

Yuu: right

Yuu: here, not much but I hope you'll like it

Leona: thanks

Yuu: go on, open it

Leona:

Leona: it's a pillow

Yuu: delux memory foam

Leona: *sob* best gift ever...

Ruggie: told ya he would like it

[arunneronthird]

timothy "i have better taste in music than u" drake wayne, ceo

[biboomerangboi]

Now that I think about it the fact the San Lang form has the Xie Lian tattoo is the funniest thing ever.

Like did he know his handwriting was that horrible there was no risks? Could he not cope if it wasn’t there, so he kept it??

Or was he like flashing it like a bit of ankle like: look Xie Lian look at my little tattoo I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve and it’s your name.

Only for Xie Lian to just go “😐 is it a foreign language? 😐”

[mlarayoukai]

There is no "other" or "I like both equally!" or "I don't watch anime/kdramas/anything in a language I don't understand/etc", pick one or leave

[ecstarry]

james and reg both traveling alone and end up with the seat next to each other and they make small talk because james is reading a book that reg loved and its a long travel so eventually reg falls asleep with his mouth open against james’ shoulder and james notices when he’s kinda waking up so he acts like he’s sleeping too hoping the really handsome man won’t move away because he actually really enjoyed having him that close and then james ends up falling asleep against reg and reg takes james’ book and takes the insane liberty to annotate stuff on the sides to ‘enrich’ james’ reading and writes his number on a piece of paper and leaves it as a bookmark

[currymanganese]

"Bold strategy cotton, let's see if it pays off!"

[justalittleguest]

I spent way to long on this sketch about a headcanon I’m not even going to explain. Probably. Eventually?

[foxtrot91]

sweet like syrup

The batter sizzles as Tommy pours it into the pan, the scent of the pancake batter wafting up and filling Tommy’s senses. Evan is still sleeping in the bedroom, having arrived home late last night after his shift ran over. He’d showered at the station and had practically collapsed onto the bed next to Tommy, barely managing to grunt out a greeting before being pulled under into a deep sleep. From the messages he’d received throughout Evan’s shift, it had been a rough one.

Which is why Tommy is out here now, trying his hand at pancakes made from scratch. He takes a moment to mourn the loss of his store-bought pancake mix that he used to have before Evan had taken one look at it, shot Tommy a look of disgust and declared it sacrilege before tossing it in the trash. So now Tommy has to troll Google for pancake recipes and thank whatever god might exist that Evan has also taken to expanding the ingredients Tommy has on hand even if Tommy barely touches them himself.

The Canadian Pure Maple Syrup has been a wonderful addition, actually, – “Bobby has it shipped in from Montreal, so you know it’s legit.” – and while he wishes he had the convenience of a premade mix to go with it, he accepts the trade-off. He still hasn’t figured out the whole maple syrup grading colour system, however, but he’d enjoyed listening to Evan discuss the merits of each grade and their best uses in the kitchen.

If he’s completely honest, Tommy doesn’t notice much of a difference between the light or dark syrups and is halfway convinced that the Canadian government is involved in a conspiracy with the maple syrup companies to hoodwink Americans into spending more money for their pretentious, robust flavoured syrup. Jokes on them, Tommy decides, because he would’ve bought it regardless of some made-up grading system just for the way Evan lights up whenever Bobby brings over their portion of his latest order. Also, and he is mature enough to admit this– it’s a thousand times better than the thick, artificial table syrup he’d grown up with as a kid.

You win this one, Canada, he thinks, eyeing the can of syrup with the proud maple leaf emblazoned on the label.

He's nearing the end of the batter by the time he hears a faint shuffling coming from the direction of the bedroom. By the time Evan joins him in the kitchen, Tommy has turned off the stove and has moved to set the table with two plates, cutlery, butter – real butter, not the margarine Tommy used to carry which was another quick casualty once Evan had moved in – a stack of pancakes, and of course, the can of syrup.

“You made breakfast?” Evan says, barely suppressing his yawn long enough to get the question out. He’s sleep rumpled, wearing one of Tommy’s slightly too big sweaters and a pair of sweats that he’s yet to tie up, and Tommy knows that if the sweater weren’t hiding it from view, he’d get a delicious peek at the sliver of skin and trail of hair that leads into Evan’s pants.

Small mercies, he thinks, because if it weren’t for the bulk of the sweater, Tommy is certain they wouldn’t make it to breakfast, and he’s spent way too much time putting this together to not eat it with Evan.

“I did,” Tommy says, smiling as he pulls Evan into his arms and gives him a soft, lingering kiss before pulling back. “Thought I’d surprise you… are you surprised?”

“You hate cooking,” Evan says in lieu of an answer, smiling when he looks over at the table. “It smells amazing.”

Laughing, Tommy ushers Evan over to the table and pulls a chair out for him. “Hopefully it tastes just as good,” he says with a wink as Evan sits down.

Tommy takes the seat to his right and serves up the pancakes onto both of their plates. Once adequately buttered and drenched in syrup, they both dig in. They’re definitely not as good as Evan’s – he really should ask him for the recipe he uses – but they’re still good, if Tommy does say so himself. And by the look on Evan’s face, he’d say they’re at least good enough to pass his muster. They’re quiet as they eat, the sounds of their utensils clanging on their plates the only real noises filling the dining room. It’s a comfortable silence, and given Evan’s rough shift the previous night, Tommy imagines it’s a welcome one as well.

Once they finish, Tommy stands to gather their plates, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of Evan’s head before he turns to wash up. There’s a certain domesticity to this that Tommy has never felt in any of his previous relationships. Evan isn’t the first boyfriend he’s lived with, not by a longshot, but he’s the first who’s ever made the kind of effort for Tommy that he is. The first to speedrun a sexuality crisis for the sheer fact that it was Tommy he wanted to be with, the first to cook him meals outside of any special occasion just because, and the first to make room for Tommy in every aspect of his life, to seamlessly fit Tommy in amongst the people he values most without a second thought.

He’s the first to make Tommy want to match his effort.

When he finishes cleaning up, he turns back to see Evan staring at him over the back of his chair. His elbow is rested on the back with his chin perched on top and he’s gazing at Tommy in a way that has a warm prickle starting up in his chest.

“What?” Tommy asks as he wipes his hands on the towel hanging off the oven handle.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He trails off, but Tommy doesn’t try to interject. “Nobody’s ever made me breakfast before.”

That can’t be true.

“What about Bobby?”

“That-he doesn’t count,” Evan says, like it should be obvious. “I mean like… in a relationship.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, a little stunned at the thought. Evan has had many partners; surely at least one of them would’ve–

“Yeah,” he says, smiling as he stands from the chair to join Tommy where he’s standing near the counter. “Usually it’s me,” he waves a hand vaguely towards the counter before looking back to Tommy. “It was nice, being on the other side for once.”

“Well, you better get used to it,” Tommy says, “Because I’ve got Google at my fingertips and a whole host of new ingredients, kitchen appliances, and fancy pots and pans at my disposal.” Evan laughs, ducking his head at the reminder of how absolutely batshit insane he’d gone overhauling Tommy’s kitchen when he’d moved in. “I hope you’re prepared for a lot of terrible meals,” he adds, because cooking the kinds of meals Evan is capable of has never been in his wheelhouse. Pancakes are about as good as it gets. Evan giggles and shakes his head, shoving lightly at Tommy’s shoulder in response.

God, he thinks, I fucking loves this man.

“I love you,” Evan says, eyes bright.

I love you too. He thinks it; goes to say it in return as he takes in the bright blue of Evan’s eyes.

“I want to marry you,” is what comes out instead.

Evan’s eyes go wide as saucers and Tommy has a split second to think – fuck fuck fuck… before landing on, fuck it. – as Evan sputters in shock, “T-Tommy, you can’t mean-”

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer,” he says on a slightly panicked breath, “I had it all planned out for our trip next month.”

“Wait, what trip?”

“It was going to be a surprise, Bobby put the PTO in for you,” this was the one piece that Tommy had been somewhat anxious about, but Eddie had been adamant that Evan would be very much on board with Tommy’s surprise. “I’m flying us out to a private lodge a buddy of mine owns. Just you, me, and a whole lot of forest to hike through.”

“Fuck,” Evan says, eyes wide in disbelief and Tommy feels a curl of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. He can’t help worrying that he’s stepped wrong here, that maybe it’s too soon. Sure they’ve been together for nearly two years now but really, what’s two years in the grand scheme of things– “Yes.”

Tommy’s brain goes abruptly offline as he processes, “What?” he asks, like an idiot.

“Yes, I will marry you,” Evan is grinning, chest shaking with barely suppressed laughter as his arms loop around Tommy’s neck and tug him in for a bruising kiss.

Groaning as they pull away, Tommy lets out a dry chuckle, “I had a whole plan,” he laments, shaking his head.

Evan isn’t having it; he takes Tommy’s face in his hands and draws him in for another heated kiss before pulling back. “Whether in some private lodge or here in our kitchen, my answer is still the same,” he says, and Tommy feels breathless.

“God I fucking love you,” he confesses, resting his forehead against Evan’s, noses brushing together.

“I know,” Evan says, and then, eyes sparkling with a little bit of mischief; “Wanna find out if engagement sex is better than normal, living-together sex?”

Tommy doesn’t have time to answer in the affirmative before Evan’s mouth is on his again, his lips still sweet with maple syrup. He feels a hand snake up his shirt as they start maneuvering towards the bedroom, losing articles of clothing along the way. He has more words to say, a whole speech he’d planned out that would show Evan just how much he means to Tommy. He’ll say them sometime, later, he thinks, when the desperation has worn off and they’re laying in the afterglow, sated, and happy.

Ao3

[runawaycarouselhorse]

I don't want to act like a snob, but, y'all... really don't read old fairy tales or mythology, do you...? You only know the sanitized, bloodless Disney versions? People get cut to pieces (Cinderella/Ashputtel, The Red Shoes), women are abducted to be wives (an upsetting practice that continued until very recently, still practiced in some countries today—horrible, but part of life that found its way into stories, like The Seal's Skin), and magical talking animal husbands / wives (The Crane's Return of a Favour; East of the Sun, West of the Moon, etc.) abound in old mythology. Kids have been raised hearing these stories and not thinking about sex for centuries...

Humans marrying Pokemon in the ancient past was frankly stated in the Japanese version of DPPt. The English version rightly assumed English-speaking fans won't take it and reworded it from used to marry to used to eat at the same table (some euphemism!)

The Typhlosion story is no different from western stories like East of the Sun, West of the Moon (the way she was advised not to look at him reminded me of that) or The Seal's Skin (selkies cannot transform and return to the sea without their pelts—the abducted wife leaves her half-human child on land, escaping with her pelt when she finds it... the half-human, half-Pokemon children are bullied by their pelts being thrown on them to transform them against their will for cruel human amusement..)

The bloody myth about the boy with the sword is Veilstone's myth, but told in detail, right down to the Pokemon exacting a toll from him for how he maimed and slew them for amusement.

A man unknowingly marries a transformed-into-human form Froslass he met once before in Pokemon Legends: Arceus and she flees when he finds out what she was... it's based on a tale about the yuki-onna, the folkloric snow woman Froslass is based on.

[music]

[emily84]

btw fans bitching about sanji having a british accent because in the shitty usamerican dub he speaks american and they cannot contemplate anyone not speaking like they do: i do realize you can't tell because you don't know anything outside of your own borders but sanji speaks a very working class english accent infused with the actor's own actual immigrant spanish islander accent, which suits the character very well actually and perfectly tempers his snobbishness about food and the flowery french names of his signature moves with the knowledge that he's had to work really fucking hard for that knowledge and you are reminded of it every time he opens his mouth. so to all those whining and complaining you are invited to kindly get the fuck off

[ccuniculusmolestus]

Bunny Corcoran be like “I know a spot” and then scams you with a 300$ bill in an expensive restaurant

[lcs-scar]

ELTINGTOBER Days 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 & 24!

MOVIE NIGHT - JANE - CREATURE - VIDEO GAMES - THE NORTHWEST COMIX COLLECTIVE - FOLKLORE

Thanks to @/robbysgop and @/rebelgubble for making the prompt list! and also thanks to @/p3ppermnt for making this rendition.

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[pincushionx]

Toh where everything is the same except Hunter is a lil British shit

Idk the idea of Belos accent passing onto Hunter is really funny to me

[nipuni]

Some Erik sketches from this morning 😊

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Once you have a label maker, everything needs a label.

[sanguinewolves]

everyones all “oh lots of autistic ppl are picky eaters thats totally understandable!” until youre a “”food snob”” picky eater instead of a chicken nuggies picky eater

like sorry i love sushi and toast with nutritional yeast and tiramisu when your 5 year old cousin only eats chicken wings w ketchup its almost like autistic ppl arent a monolith 😐