God I spent countless hours as a teen playing on a heavily modded and roleplay enforced ultima online server. I played Cedric Sartone, simple farmer turned tavern owner who eventually turned it into THE BEST PLACE IN TOWN. It was poppin every night, I was buddies with every adventurer, soldier, mage, druid, and ranger that played the game. After they went out and grinded their skills and did their quests, I was waiting for them with a warm fire and plenty of ale. I’d buy their ingredients and make awesome food and booze (max level cooking!) and was privy to all the gossip.
Little did they know I had a side hobby, I was brewing massive amounts of the most gamebreakingly toxic poison possible. For over a year I roleplayed with these people as a simple barman, pretended to be their friend and confidant, and then during a harvest festival where every player on our server was in attendance and I was payed to provide the food and drink… I poisoned every last morsel of food, every drop of drink and after the reagent delivered his speech and all of these fools raised their goblets for the toast and took that deadly sip, I stepped onto the stage and revealed what had happened. They where all going to die, and die they did.
Now this was a permanent death server (hardcore rpers mind you) and some had been playing those characters for 8 years and there they all were, collapsed and dying. Soon they were all unconscious, as you could only die if you went unconscious three times in one day or if a certain psychotic bartender came and cut off your head… which I did to every player in our group of 38. They were all there, and unfortunately so was I.
Revenge against what, you ask?
So the server had a pretty strict policy regarding pvp and pk, essentially the GMs had to determine if there was in character justification for any instance of disputed player killing, obviously my situation prompted a call for an investigation. I understood those rules from the start though, and I kept a written log in the game where I detailed my character’s building hatred of every single other player character in the world. He would keep track of every little thing from petty slights, to unpaid tabs, but more importantly I adopted the little mannerisms that people roleplayed to develop their characters into the madness of mine.
So Elias was always whistling, well I recorded how infuriating Cedric found it in his journal, and soon he had multiple journals packed full of a thousand reasons an unstable maniac could use to justifiably (re: server rules) murder anyone. The reagent who was also the server admin had some ornate cloak with a custom texture, so I wrote like three pages about how pompous it was, and extrapolated what kind of insufferable prick he must have been for wearing it.
I would just write one or two things down every day for over a year, so I had many books full for the GMs to locate in the tavern basement and read through. The result was that they found my massacre to be in good form and in-character, so the server was not rolled back and instead they decided to reset and implement a new landmass they had been working on. Some people were really pissed off, mostly a handful of the veteran players who had been top dog for several years in their little gladiator arena.
I only did any of it because my first character was murdered by some overzealous asshole who just used his character to project his inferiority complex. He killed me on my second day on the server because I wandered into the funeral of his friend (it was taking place in the middle of town and there was a crowd, of course I was curious) and because I was not invited and he was a known prick it was found justifiable for his character to kill mine because of the emotional turmoil blah blah. So yeah I said f*ck that, and rolled a new character who was ostensibly eager to please and non-threatening. I won.
not combat rations, thats for sure. ive had enough of those for a lifetime.
but my latest food hit has been pretzel bites. pretzels are an awesome food but rarely available fresh when i want to eat them, which is usually when i’ve woken up in the middle of the night. they’re relatively labor-intensive to make, which is good once the insomnia sets in. keeps me busy. plus, pretzels are sweet on the inside, salty on the outside, just like me. except im also salty on the inside. dont listen to steve.
when i make pretzels, it’s by the metric ton, so the recipe i have makes approximately a million of them.probably you will not want this many, because you don’t have thor or steve to help you eat them. or clint. probably you could just shove some into a vaccum cleaner instead, thatd be about the same. so divide the recipe in half or quarters for normal human consumption. take 11 cups of flour, 1 cup of brown sugar, ½ cup of oil and mix. 4 cups of warm water gets 11 teaspoons of yeast and sits for a bit, then goes in the flour mix. then mix it and let it rise for about an hour. the dough should be sticky to the touch and absolutely awful to get out of your metal fingers. while you wait, wander your living area for some poor sucker to rope into helping you, because stage 2 is easier with help. or you can sit down and wonder why you talk yourself into doing things like this. consider your choices. it’s already too late to go back to sleep; youve got dough rising.
get a deep fry pan or sauce pan and fill with about two inches of water. bring it to a rolling boil on the stove and add in three or so tablespoons of baking soda. you really can’t do too much of that, as long as the water’s not getting super cloudy. preheat the oven to 400 degrees. wake steve up and tell him he has to help.
get a couple egg yolks in a bowl with a basting brush, and find some kosher salt or sea salt. grease up a few pans.
flour a surface and roll the dough out until it’s between ½ and ¼ in thick. get your poor unsuspecting minion to cut out bite sized bits. i use an inch and a half circle cookie cutter, but you can use whatever you want, really. tony used a laser cutter last time i let him help, which was…not ideal.
drop the cut outs into the boiling soda water, and let them sit for a few seconds, then fish them out. you can use your robot hand for that, but again, you’ll be getting dough out of it for days. i let them drip dry on a cookie drying sheet, but you could also drop them on a clean dishtowel i guess. you just dont want them to be wet when you put them on the cookie sheet.
they’re not gonna expand a ton, so just stuff em up close to each other on the sheet. paint the tops with egg yolks and sprinkle with salt. pop em in the oven for 10-15 min or until golden brown.
repeat the boiling-and-baking until you want to die, then keep going until you run out of dough. while the last batch is baking, take a half a stick of butter, a quarter cup of flour and make a roux in a saucepan. add two cups of milk and two cups of cheddar cheese, some salt and pepper to taste, and a quarter cup of mustard, give or take. im showing you how much to use with my hands but you cant see it. sorry, i dont really measure stuff most of the time. heat and stir till it’s melty and amazing, and dip pretzels on in there.
by the time you have completed this process and eaten as many pretzel bites as you want–and there will be enough. it’s a dang big recipe–you will want to enter a food coma and sleep forever. or for 70 years or so.
Lance has been on mission for two weeks, and Keith’s been waiting up.
He’s been listening closely to each transmission, and Lance sounds okay. He sounds happy, even, at first, since the planet has beaches everywhere, and the locals love to show them off.
“Man, I’m swimming five hours a day, easy, and then we have meetings that last, like, two at most, and then food. Wow, the food is awesome.” Lance laughs as Keith makes a face. “Yeah, be jealous, I’m living it up over here.”
“My last mission involved crawling around mining shafts for three days,” Keith grumbled. “Of course you would get to go to Luxury Resort Planet.”
“Your mission involved you being a big damn hero and saving fifty people from a cave-in,” Lance says, and he’s beaming with pride as he speaks. Keith can’t help the smile when he sees it. “It was amazing.”
“Pidge and Hunk came back already, how come you’re still there?” Keith asks, curious, maybe complaining a little.
“Because they trust me above everyone else, I guess. Something to do with Blue and mine’s affinity for water? Should be done soon.” Lance’s grin is edging into leering territory now, and Keith flushes, annoyed at how easily Lance can do this to him. “Don’t train yourself to death while I’m gone. I know you probably have a lot of, ah, pent up energy —”
“Yeah, okay, Shiro’s calling us for dinner, bye now.”Keith rolls his eyes, gives Lance a chance to laugh and blow him a kiss before he ends the transmission.
And then a week passes by with nothing, no calls at all. Allura assures him that everything is fine, that she’s still getting Lance’s reports every day, but that negotiations for the alliance are tougher than expected. Lance is refusing to leave until they agree to help protect the smaller, less technologically advanced planets in their system — they have plenty of ships and shields to spare.
Keith falls asleep every night on one of the couches in the observation lounge. Their bed is a little too empty for him, not as warm or as soft for whatever reason …
He’s drowsing now, on that thin edge between light doze and deep sleep, when he feels a tender pressure against his temple. He opens his eyes halfway, sees a flash of deep brown skin, blue eyes, and Lance’s smile. “Hey there, stranger.”
Keith will blame the fact that he’s not completely awake, that he hasn’t been sleeping well for weeks, for the way he jumps up, wrapping his arms tightly around Lance’s shoulders, sending them both crashing to the floor.
“Ow. Hi. But ow.” Lance rubs at his head, but he’s still smiling. “Missed me, huh?”
Keith glares, but he knows it’s not nearly as intimidating as it should be, considering his own lips are up at the corners. “Took you way too long. Should’ve just threatened to shoot them and be done with it.”
“And that’s why Allura sends everyone but you to these things,” Lance laughs out. His hand reaches up, brushing the bangs from Keith’s face, running through the rest of his hair over and over. “I definitely missed you, mullet brain, so tell me how much pining you did while I was gone. All of it, right? All the pining?”
“Nope, nada,” Keith answers, burying his face where Lance’s neck meets his shoulder.
They lie there for a few minutes, Lance’s hand still stroking through Keith’s hair, his other hand running up and down his spine. Eventually, Lance tugs a little, prompting Keith to lean back.
“C’mon, I really need our bed right now.” Lance sits up so that Keith is straddling his lap. His hands slide down and before Keith can say or do anything, he’s standing up, and Keith has his legs wrapped around Lance’s waist, clutching tightly to keep from falling.
Keith inhales sharply. “Since when —”
“Since years of training, and a few weeks of non-stop swimming,” Lance answers, looking smug. “Yeah, I’m coming for your role as the buff one in our relationship. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Keith pretends to think as Lance walks them to their room. He raises his eyebrows after a few moments. “Remind you of your place tomorrow when we spar and I kick your ass. But for tonight? Nothing. This is pretty h— nice.”
“Hot? You were going to say hot but you chickened out at the last second!” Lance crows. “Man, I’m gonna get some sexy talk out of you, some day, you’ll see. And then I’ll probably die, but it’ll so be worth it.”
Keith twists a bit as they reach their door, palming the panel so it slides open and Lance doesn’t have to risk dropping him to do it. As soon as they’re inside he’s using his weight to force Lance back against the door, and Lance struggles to keep a firm grip on him, keep them both upright.
“Who’s the more muscular one?” Keith asks, breathes out right against Lance’s ear. He’s rewarded by a shudder, and Lance finally dropping him — Keith lands easily, grinning at Lance, who glares playfully, his blue eyes tired but warm.
“Yeah, yeah — gimmie a couple more weeks, then I’ll be able to bench press you,” Lance says, yawning as he strips down to his shorts, yanking on Keith’s shirt. “Querido, dale. Sleep now.”
Keith is down to his own shorts and in bed with his boyfriend inside of a minute. Lance curls up against him, resting his head on Keith’s chest, and Keith takes his chance to run his own hand through soft brown hair, watching how it curls around his fingers. A soft, happy sound vibrates into Keith’s skin, but no words come from Lance — he’s out.
“I did miss you,” Keith whispers. “Way too much. It was embarrassing.”
Lance just breathes deeply in response.
Keith presses a kiss to the crown of his head, murmuring into his hair, “I love you.”
He’s floating away into sleep himself, and he knows that in the morning, Lance will be there, and he’ll refuse to get up right away; he’ll whine and tease and seduce Keith into staying in bed. And Keith will complain and argue and give in begrudgingly except not really. Because he’d really, truly missed all of this a depressing amount. He’s almost afraid of how happy he is right now.
Lance mutters something about Slav, no, the pancakes exist in this reality and Keith snorts before he’s finally resting for good, a smile on his face and the boy he loves back in his arms.
Notes:I have a paper due tomorrow, and this is what my brain decides to do. Look at this disgusting pile of fluff. C’mon, brain, priorities. *sighs* If anybody reads this, I’m sorry if it’s unbearably sweet — I guess I needed some soft, happy boys to distract from my imminent doom when it comes to this school thing I haven’t even started. *more sighing*
Budgie2budgie & ohmysims have made some awesome simlish food clutter recolors for TS4 which I wanted so badly (+ a couple of other items)
for my TS2 game so well here they are ^_^. The 8-3 studio objects are made into new standalone objects as I have re-sized most of them to my liking. You do not need the originals and if you already do they shouldn’t conflict.
Are you excited? See you on May 25, 2017 as we celebrate summer the Tumblr way! Find new friends, eat great food, play awesome games, and win amazing prizes all for free because we love you so much! Here’s more! You can bring anyone - friends, classmates, relatives, anyone - in the event. So, spread the word and be there! Kitakits, Tumblristas!
What if in space there were these machines that could create food from nutrients and minerals that are stored in it and aliens would simple be flabbergasted at the foods that the humans eat.
Couj could not believe what these human could come up with to eat. HumanLizzy seemed to like a cooked dairy product between two slices of cooked grain mesh while humanMack seemed to enjoy what could only be described as a not fully cooked slice of meat from a mammal. Humans need to eat cooked food if it came from an animal, it was in the guide to keep a human. He better warn him.
Couj: humanMack don’t eat the meat you will feel unwell.
Mack: Why I thought that the machine makes food without the bacteria in it.
Couj: your meat is raw. Human will feel ill if they eat their meat raw.
Mack: oh! Only with certain meats Couj. True some humans prefer their meat fully cooked but some meats can be safely eaten raw like beef. This is a rare steak for example.
You should have learned by now that humans can easily digest most things with a little preparation. I shouldn’t even tell you about the people who eat pufferfish
Couj: Pufferfish! Isn’t that animal highly poisonous!
Mack: that’s why we have special chefs to prepare it. Even though sometimes people still die. It’s a delicacy though.
Warning: foul language
Summary: In the middle of his tour, Y/n notices that Mark had been more distant and not really acting like himself and she doesn’t know why. Now that he is back, he is even more not himself.
Today was that day that you were going to surprise the guys
to some lunch. Somehow you got lucky and you were given the day off . You were
going to use this as a chance to see Mark in person instead of the sporadic and
short-length facetime sessions that his schedule allowed. You spent the whole
morning making food for the seven boys, trying your best to personalize their
plates with the things you knew they liked. You made the bus ride to the
practice studio in your “top notch” disguise of sunglasses and a scarf and
carefully sprinted your way to the studio holding the bag of food. Thankfully,
you were friendly with all the security over the years and they all let you in
You made your way to the practice room, looking through the
small window to make sure you were in the right place.
In the room, you could see them all in deep concentration as
they watched the choreographer break the moves down for them. When they music
started again, it was their turn. Despite their midday exhaustion, they pushed
through and made it to the end of the segment with only minor mistakes.
You saw the choreography turn off the speaker once more. He
spoke to them all, but you weren’t able to make out what he said. You saw him
grab his things and come towards the door. You quickly hid behind the wall. He
didn’t notice you as he exited and you ran into the room before the door could
close on its own.
With your ninja silent entrance, no one noticed you. You saw
six of the boys throw themselves on the floor and catch their breath. Mark was
the only one to stay up. He looked at himself intensely at the mirror and then
did the dance over again.
“Hey guys!” You said to make your presence known.
“Y/n!” Bambam shouted. “Wait food!”
At the sight of food in your hands, they all jumped up and
swarmed around you, all except from Mark. You went to a bench and began passing
the plates around. Jackson was the first one up to you. He had the biggest
smile on his face as he looked down at you. “What did you get us?”
“I made you all a little something cuz I really missed you
“You made it?” Bambam asked in excitement.
“Awesome! I love your food!” He cheered as you handed him
the box specifically for him.
“And my plate?” Jackson asked with palms open.
“Here is your chicken” you smiled
“This is all organic right?” he double checked.
You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes”
“Yes!” cheered. “Let me drag Mark over here.” He walked away
from the group and went up to Mark who was still going over the dance in front
of the mirror.
“Pst Y/n.” Jinyoung whispered as you handed him his box. “Is
all this really organic?” he had a smirk threatening to come out already
“No” you whispered back.
“Knew it.” He giggled making you laugh along with him.
Eventually, Jackson convinced Mark to eat, and your
boyfriend cut through the boys that surrounded you. He wiped his face to get
the sweat away, but he didn’t wipe his frown away.
“Baby!” you smiled, your arms already lacing around him.
He slid your hands off him. “What are you doing here?” he
asked with a harsh tone.
“What?” you were thrown off by his question.
“…What are you doing here?” he asked more sternly.
You looked back at Mark in shock. The rest of the boys
stopped eating and stared at him in disbelief.
“I came to see you
Mark. I haven’t seen you in weeks and I wanted to eat lunch with you.” the tone
of your voice was beginning to match his.
“Why? Can’t you see we are working?!”
You trembled at his booming voice. He has never been like
this with you before.
“Hyung, back off of y/n.” Yugyeom said softly from behind
Mark’s dagger eyes flew to the maknae. “Why don’t you shut
up?! Not all of us were able to get the moves down so quick okay!” Then he
turned back to you, still just as angry. “Y/n go home.”
“Dammit Y/n, I said to fucking go home!” he shouted as he
angrily pointed to the door.
You looked up at him and he had a face of rage. Frightened
and embarrassed, tears spilled out of your eyes and you ran out of the room.
Mark stood with six shocked, but angered faces looking back
“Don’t fucking look at me like that!” was all he could get
himself to say.
That was when Jackson shoved him. “Why the fuck did you yell
at her like that you dick?!?”
“You shut up!” Mark yelled back.
Jackson stepped right up to him. “She just wanted to see
“Both of you stop!” Jinyoung raised his voice at the both of
them as JB pushed the two of them away from each other.
“Bambam or Yugyeom, one of you go look for y/n.” he ordered
as he looked between Mark and Jackson. The two boys were in too much of a stare
off to really pay attention to what he would say, so he didn’t really bother.
In the meantime, the two youngest ran out of the room in
search of y/n.
“Mark, when they bring y/n back in here, you better
apologize to her.” Jinyoung said out right.
Mark didn’t say anything, he just pushed Jb’s arm off him
and walked away from them.
“Why are you being such a shithead?!?” Jackson said at him,
“She’s your girlfriend, you don’t talk to her like that!”
“Dammit, Jackson I told you both to stop!” Jinyoung yelled.
Suddenly the two maknaes ran back in. “We couldn’t find
her.” Bambam said in a labored breath. “Yeah, I think she just ran out of the
building.” Yugyeom added.
Again the six boys stared back at Mark in disappointment.
“What now?!?” he barked
“Go talk to her!” Youngjae said.
Mark scoffed at him. “No, we are still in practice.”
Jackson moved up to him. “Mark, as your best friend and as
Y/n’s friend, I am asking you to go find her and go apologize.” He said in a
calm and serious tone.
Mark stared him down. “You don’t fucking tell me what to
do.” He growled.
Jackson stepped away from him and made his way from the
door. “Screw practice! If he is going to be here, then I’m leaving!” he said
before he slammed the door to the practice room.