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Jun. 3rd, 2018
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notavodkashot:
theotherguysride:
notavodkashot:
darkpuck:
notavodkashot:
Okay but, here’s your hilarious thought of the day. Sun is Out verse, at some point, because they end up doing a lot of dumb “it’s for charity!” things in the years building up to the Roadtrip and because they’re Dads who live to embarass their children:
Regis, Clarus, Cor and Nyx.
Amateur cooking competition.
They’re opening a new foodbank or something and they want PR for it.
It’s a glorious disaster including gems like:
Is Cor drunk? Yes, yes he is.
Clarus has giant hands and all the utensils keep flying off his fingers.
Regis, stop casting magic to fix your blunders.
And the ever popular, OH FUCK, IT’S ON FIRE, from Nyx.
Look, every time someone looks at Cor, he’s got a beer in his hand. No one knows how or why. The production team keeps trying to take them away when he puts them down, and the next time someone looks, he has another one. He’s making risotto with one hand and somehow despite the fact he’s very clearly drunk - “Marshal, are you drunk?” “Yes. It’s great./Deadpan” - he seems to be the less likely to cause an actual emergency.
Clarus spent fifteen minutes trying to peel a potato and now he’s frying them with the peel and calling it “Rustic, okay? That’s a thing. These are rustic now. It’s fine.” It’s really not fine.
Regis started a grease fire and casted blizzard on it.
Nyx conjured a six feet tall plume of flame straight from hell, stared unfazed at it, and went… “Yep, prime grilling temp.”
And that’s before someone goes “ALRIGHT, FOR PART TWO, YOU GET TO TEAM UP! THE KING AND THE SHIELD, AND THE COMMANDER AND THE MARSHAL, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?”
Nyx, Cor, Regis and Clarus, in unison: Everything.
It ends. Mostly okay. Somewhat okay. Food gets made and its surprisingly good. But man, it was an adventure to get there.
…really, the only edible thing here is what Cor made.
Which is risotto and fucking seafood, he pulled out of nowhere after his seventh beer.
Which is basically the usual state of affairs.
I mean it’s sweet but it’s edible and he might be drunkenly snuggling up Nyx’s side, who might or might not be covered in soot, and frankly the less is said about Regis and Clarus the better.
This means that team Galahd (Cor went on the Walk, he’s Galahdian) won the challenge!
…I see the prize as one of those cheap novelty ‘best cook’ awards. It has a place of pride in Cor and Nyx’s house.
Meanwhile, the recording of the challenge is something that Prompto drags out to watch on major holidays.
(Your picture was not posted)
notavodkashot:
theotherguysride:
notavodkashot:
darkpuck:
notavodkashot:
Okay but, here’s your hilarious thought of the day. Sun is Out verse, at some point, because they end up doing a lot of dumb “it’s for charity!” things in the years building up to the Roadtrip and because they’re Dads who live to embarass their children:
Regis, Clarus, Cor and Nyx.
Amateur cooking competition.
They’re opening a new foodbank or something and they want PR for it.
It’s a glorious disaster including gems like:
Is Cor drunk? Yes, yes he is.
Clarus has giant hands and all the utensils keep flying off his fingers.
Regis, stop casting magic to fix your blunders.
And the ever popular, OH FUCK, IT’S ON FIRE, from Nyx.
Look, every time someone looks at Cor, he’s got a beer in his hand. No one knows how or why. The production team keeps trying to take them away when he puts them down, and the next time someone looks, he has another one. He’s making risotto with one hand and somehow despite the fact he’s very clearly drunk - “Marshal, are you drunk?” “Yes. It’s great./Deadpan” - he seems to be the less likely to cause an actual emergency.
Clarus spent fifteen minutes trying to peel a potato and now he’s frying them with the peel and calling it “Rustic, okay? That’s a thing. These are rustic now. It’s fine.” It’s really not fine.
Regis started a grease fire and casted blizzard on it.
Nyx conjured a six feet tall plume of flame straight from hell, stared unfazed at it, and went… “Yep, prime grilling temp.”
And that’s before someone goes “ALRIGHT, FOR PART TWO, YOU GET TO TEAM UP! THE KING AND THE SHIELD, AND THE COMMANDER AND THE MARSHAL, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?”
Nyx, Cor, Regis and Clarus, in unison: Everything.
It ends. Mostly okay. Somewhat okay. Food gets made and its surprisingly good. But man, it was an adventure to get there.
…really, the only edible thing here is what Cor made.
Which is risotto and fucking seafood, he pulled out of nowhere after his seventh beer.
Which is basically the usual state of affairs.
I mean it’s sweet but it’s edible and he might be drunkenly snuggling up Nyx’s side, who might or might not be covered in soot, and frankly the less is said about Regis and Clarus the better.
This means that team Galahd (Cor went on the Walk, he’s Galahdian) won the challenge!
…I see the prize as one of those cheap novelty ‘best cook’ awards. It has a place of pride in Cor and Nyx’s house.
Meanwhile, the recording of the challenge is something that Prompto drags out to watch on major holidays.
(Your picture was not posted)
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notavodkashot:
hamelin-born:
notavodkashot:
theotherguysride:
notavodkashot:
darkpuck:
notavodkashot:
Okay but, here’s your hilarious thought of the day. Sun is Out verse, at some point, because they end up doing a lot of dumb “it’s for charity!” things in the years building up to the Roadtrip and because they’re Dads who live to embarass their children:
Regis, Clarus, Cor and Nyx.
Amateur cooking competition.
They’re opening a new foodbank or something and they want PR for it.
It’s a glorious disaster including gems like:
Is Cor drunk? Yes, yes he is.
Clarus has giant hands and all the utensils keep flying off his fingers.
Regis, stop casting magic to fix your blunders.
And the ever popular, OH FUCK, IT’S ON FIRE, from Nyx.
Look, every time someone looks at Cor, he’s got a beer in his hand. No one knows how or why. The production team keeps trying to take them away when he puts them down, and the next time someone looks, he has another one. He’s making risotto with one hand and somehow despite the fact he’s very clearly drunk - “Marshal, are you drunk?” “Yes. It’s great./Deadpan” - he seems to be the less likely to cause an actual emergency.
Clarus spent fifteen minutes trying to peel a potato and now he’s frying them with the peel and calling it “Rustic, okay? That’s a thing. These are rustic now. It’s fine.” It’s really not fine.
Regis started a grease fire and casted blizzard on it.
Nyx conjured a six feet tall plume of flame straight from hell, stared unfazed at it, and went… “Yep, prime grilling temp.”
And that’s before someone goes “ALRIGHT, FOR PART TWO, YOU GET TO TEAM UP! THE KING AND THE SHIELD, AND THE COMMANDER AND THE MARSHAL, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?”
Nyx, Cor, Regis and Clarus, in unison: Everything.
It ends. Mostly okay. Somewhat okay. Food gets made and its surprisingly good. But man, it was an adventure to get there.
…really, the only edible thing here is what Cor made.
Which is risotto and fucking seafood, he pulled out of nowhere after his seventh beer.
Which is basically the usual state of affairs.
I mean it’s sweet but it’s edible and he might be drunkenly snuggling up Nyx’s side, who might or might not be covered in soot, and frankly the less is said about Regis and Clarus the better.
This means that team Galahd (Cor went on the Walk, he’s Galahdian) won the challenge!
…I see the prize as one of those cheap novelty ‘best cook’ awards. It has a place of pride in Cor and Nyx’s house.
Meanwhile, the recording of the challenge is something that Prompto drags out to watch on major holidays.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Gladio and Noct are trying to sink into the ground because their Dads are being… ugh, so DAD.
Meanwhile Prompto is cheering and hooting in a corner and also OH GOD, DAD, STOP SETTING EVERYTHING ON FIRE, SHIT.
He needs to save a copy of the recording to share with Nea, who will be very sorry she missed the spectacle.
Libertus Despairs, because now all of Lucis see Nyx’s cooking as the ‘standard’ of Galahdian cuisine. Namely: charred.
(Your picture was not posted)
notavodkashot:
hamelin-born:
notavodkashot:
theotherguysride:
notavodkashot:
darkpuck:
notavodkashot:
Okay but, here’s your hilarious thought of the day. Sun is Out verse, at some point, because they end up doing a lot of dumb “it’s for charity!” things in the years building up to the Roadtrip and because they’re Dads who live to embarass their children:
Regis, Clarus, Cor and Nyx.
Amateur cooking competition.
They’re opening a new foodbank or something and they want PR for it.
It’s a glorious disaster including gems like:
Is Cor drunk? Yes, yes he is.
Clarus has giant hands and all the utensils keep flying off his fingers.
Regis, stop casting magic to fix your blunders.
And the ever popular, OH FUCK, IT’S ON FIRE, from Nyx.
Look, every time someone looks at Cor, he’s got a beer in his hand. No one knows how or why. The production team keeps trying to take them away when he puts them down, and the next time someone looks, he has another one. He’s making risotto with one hand and somehow despite the fact he’s very clearly drunk - “Marshal, are you drunk?” “Yes. It’s great./Deadpan” - he seems to be the less likely to cause an actual emergency.
Clarus spent fifteen minutes trying to peel a potato and now he’s frying them with the peel and calling it “Rustic, okay? That’s a thing. These are rustic now. It’s fine.” It’s really not fine.
Regis started a grease fire and casted blizzard on it.
Nyx conjured a six feet tall plume of flame straight from hell, stared unfazed at it, and went… “Yep, prime grilling temp.”
And that’s before someone goes “ALRIGHT, FOR PART TWO, YOU GET TO TEAM UP! THE KING AND THE SHIELD, AND THE COMMANDER AND THE MARSHAL, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?”
Nyx, Cor, Regis and Clarus, in unison: Everything.
It ends. Mostly okay. Somewhat okay. Food gets made and its surprisingly good. But man, it was an adventure to get there.
…really, the only edible thing here is what Cor made.
Which is risotto and fucking seafood, he pulled out of nowhere after his seventh beer.
Which is basically the usual state of affairs.
I mean it’s sweet but it’s edible and he might be drunkenly snuggling up Nyx’s side, who might or might not be covered in soot, and frankly the less is said about Regis and Clarus the better.
This means that team Galahd (Cor went on the Walk, he’s Galahdian) won the challenge!
…I see the prize as one of those cheap novelty ‘best cook’ awards. It has a place of pride in Cor and Nyx’s house.
Meanwhile, the recording of the challenge is something that Prompto drags out to watch on major holidays.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Gladio and Noct are trying to sink into the ground because their Dads are being… ugh, so DAD.
Meanwhile Prompto is cheering and hooting in a corner and also OH GOD, DAD, STOP SETTING EVERYTHING ON FIRE, SHIT.
He needs to save a copy of the recording to share with Nea, who will be very sorry she missed the spectacle.
Libertus Despairs, because now all of Lucis see Nyx’s cooking as the ‘standard’ of Galahdian cuisine. Namely: charred.
(Your picture was not posted)
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morbidfantasy21:
Faithful shepherd’s dog by Jakub Rozalski
(Your picture was not posted)
morbidfantasy21:
Faithful shepherd’s dog by Jakub Rozalski
(Your picture was not posted)
via https://ift.tt/2ssB7C1
lesbiansassemble:
reblog peter getting a job he’s unqualified for, and for the next decade you’ll be offered jobs you’re unqualified for
(Your picture was not posted)
lesbiansassemble:
reblog peter getting a job he’s unqualified for, and for the next decade you’ll be offered jobs you’re unqualified for
(Your picture was not posted)
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deadcatwithaflamethrower:
vinebox:
parks-and-rex:
spongebobsquarepants:
ohhwendypeffercorn:
nudepalettes:
mismatchedsocksquad:
Reblog the money spongebob to get coin
spongebob got that bankroll 😩 them bills 🙏🏽💵💸💰 hmu spaddy (sponge daddy)
My hand been itching today. I’m reblogging all the money posts I see
Sponge daddy 😭
Maybe its a cover…
Im tryna be this rich….
Soon.
(Your picture was not posted)
deadcatwithaflamethrower:
vinebox:
parks-and-rex:
spongebobsquarepants:
ohhwendypeffercorn:
nudepalettes:
mismatchedsocksquad:
Reblog the money spongebob to get coin
spongebob got that bankroll 😩 them bills 🙏🏽💵💸💰 hmu spaddy (sponge daddy)
My hand been itching today. I’m reblogging all the money posts I see
Sponge daddy 😭
Maybe its a cover…
Im tryna be this rich….
Soon.
(Your picture was not posted)
via https://ift.tt/2stC39s
deadecchi:
bente36:
unclefather:
can’t risk it
THIS PIECE OF PICTURE WORKS.
I actually have a preserved 4 leaf clover somewhere now i want to find it
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deadecchi:
bente36:
unclefather:
can’t risk it
THIS PIECE OF PICTURE WORKS.
I actually have a preserved 4 leaf clover somewhere now i want to find it
(Your picture was not posted)
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straightpeoplereceipts:
runefire:
Don’t feel bad if you giggled. There’s definitely something funny about that juxtaposition. However, it is the actual state of our lives, which is decidedly less funny.
Hey, I’m Nik. I’m a 20 year old Jewish lesbian with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which, if you’re not well-versed, basically means that my tendons and joints just absolutely hate staying in place. It’s caused severe chronic pain since I was thirteen, and has ruined my ability to do any kind of physical work. Regardless, I’ve been working retail jobs on and off; as you may know, minimum wage is not enough to live off of. My story is, in short, my body is all fucked up, my father’s dead and my mother is basically a teenager, and my fiancee & I are all alone in this wild world.
My fiancee, @meanexwife, is also here with me. We are both disabled, we are both doing literally all we can. In our rush to find somewhere to live, and at my mother’s pressuring to stay close to home, we’ve made a pretty grave mistake.
Our apartment complex is having us pay an exorbitant amount for a roach-infested, barely functioning home.
You can see the more detailed receipts on what’s wrong with the apartment here.
All of our plumbing is prone to breaking at the slightest provocation, we’ve got G-d knows how many roaches in our bathroom and kitchen, and their so-called pest control has done literally nothing. We’re also two disabled women living directly adjacent to known sexual predators. The apartment complex has acknowledged they know the people across from us, who have gone after us both before, are predatory. They have also done nothing about it. As an added fuck-you, they initially tried to give us a (somehow) worse unit; when we complained and tried to get it fixed, they gave us a second floor unit. Both of us have declining mobility. The stairs are not going to be doable for very much longer.
Management here is unavailable almost all the time and has no interest in the quality of life of their tenants. We’re poor anyway, and they are currently doing the wonderful work of exploiting us while keeping us in abysmal living conditions. If we can pay rent, we can’t eat. So. Help us out if you can. We’re not going to be able to do this much longer, and we have no outside help.
Donate at:
paypal.me/alexandriarain for paypal
$runefire on cashapp
@niarkos on venmo
You can also buy my poetry at payhip.com/raccoon or commission me for fiction on my blog.
hey guuuuuys! so our rock-spitting sink was the least of our issues I’m afraid. we’re also surrounded by bugs and people who would like to do us harm.
we’re probably angling for about $4000 to get us out safely. I know that sounds like a lot and that our situation’s been tough for the last year or so, but if each follower of this blog just gave us $1 we would have enough to survive and get somewhere safe.
if you’re able, please, please donate. like. this is actually a very big deal and a serious issue. anything you can spare is enough, even a few dollars.
we love you guys! stay safe
(Your picture was not posted)
straightpeoplereceipts:
runefire:
Don’t feel bad if you giggled. There’s definitely something funny about that juxtaposition. However, it is the actual state of our lives, which is decidedly less funny.
Hey, I’m Nik. I’m a 20 year old Jewish lesbian with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which, if you’re not well-versed, basically means that my tendons and joints just absolutely hate staying in place. It’s caused severe chronic pain since I was thirteen, and has ruined my ability to do any kind of physical work. Regardless, I’ve been working retail jobs on and off; as you may know, minimum wage is not enough to live off of. My story is, in short, my body is all fucked up, my father’s dead and my mother is basically a teenager, and my fiancee & I are all alone in this wild world.
My fiancee, @meanexwife, is also here with me. We are both disabled, we are both doing literally all we can. In our rush to find somewhere to live, and at my mother’s pressuring to stay close to home, we’ve made a pretty grave mistake.
Our apartment complex is having us pay an exorbitant amount for a roach-infested, barely functioning home.
You can see the more detailed receipts on what’s wrong with the apartment here.
All of our plumbing is prone to breaking at the slightest provocation, we’ve got G-d knows how many roaches in our bathroom and kitchen, and their so-called pest control has done literally nothing. We’re also two disabled women living directly adjacent to known sexual predators. The apartment complex has acknowledged they know the people across from us, who have gone after us both before, are predatory. They have also done nothing about it. As an added fuck-you, they initially tried to give us a (somehow) worse unit; when we complained and tried to get it fixed, they gave us a second floor unit. Both of us have declining mobility. The stairs are not going to be doable for very much longer.
Management here is unavailable almost all the time and has no interest in the quality of life of their tenants. We’re poor anyway, and they are currently doing the wonderful work of exploiting us while keeping us in abysmal living conditions. If we can pay rent, we can’t eat. So. Help us out if you can. We’re not going to be able to do this much longer, and we have no outside help.
Donate at:
paypal.me/alexandriarain for paypal
$runefire on cashapp
@niarkos on venmo
You can also buy my poetry at payhip.com/raccoon or commission me for fiction on my blog.
hey guuuuuys! so our rock-spitting sink was the least of our issues I’m afraid. we’re also surrounded by bugs and people who would like to do us harm.
we’re probably angling for about $4000 to get us out safely. I know that sounds like a lot and that our situation’s been tough for the last year or so, but if each follower of this blog just gave us $1 we would have enough to survive and get somewhere safe.
if you’re able, please, please donate. like. this is actually a very big deal and a serious issue. anything you can spare is enough, even a few dollars.
we love you guys! stay safe
(Your picture was not posted)