cheese block

i want to run away…but like in ghibli movie. like i take a block of cheese a loaf of bread and some apples and wander through the flower-specked mountains wrapped up in a shawl and i happen to wander into a moving castle and fall in love with a cute wizard

I used to work in a little market and we had to cut blocks of cheese in approximately 1lb cubes. To this day, 1lb = 1 block of feta cheese, in my head.

My gym trainer was talking about guys lifting up to 1000 lbs.

‘That’s a lot of cheese,’ I said.

‘What.’

shoutout to bilbo for not initiating mass murder when the dwarves ate all of his food because if that was me i would have ended the line of durin over a small block of cheese

When Victor’s really annoyed Yuuri, Yuuri likes to tell him off in Russian as that usually really makes him pay attention. However, considering Yuuri’s still a beginner, it doesn’t always work out. One time, he mixed up his words and instead of calling Victor a ‘unfairly selfish’, he somehow called him a ‘cheese-grater’. Victor ended up crying still… just of laughter on the floor. 

Some real nice art

Take a breather, Tumblr. You made it to another Friday. We hope that means it’s time for you to sit back and relax. We found a bunch of artists making really precious art stuff for all of us to enjoy. Let these blogs soothe your weary, end-of-week eyes.

Fuzzy Yellow (@heyfuzzyyellow​)

What’s Fuzzy Yellow? Fuzzy Yellow is just like, this yellow, fuzzy friend whose defining characteristic are that they are who they are and they’re happy with it. Fuzzy Yellow, and their creator Måns Swanberg (@mansswanberg​), are all about being yourself.

Originally posted by chibird

Chibird (@chibird​​)

Chibird aims to put cute and motivational drawings on your dashboard with regularity, and man, do they deliver. Have you ever seen a bear with a pair of cuter cheeks? “No,” is what you probably just said.

Originally posted by thefrizzkid

Frizz Kid (@thefrizzkid​​)

Follow Frizz Kid for fuzzy feelings. They’re socially-conscious, and they’re making art about it. If you want a dose of aspirational social justice that comes in a perfectly square form on a semi-regular schedule…well, that is very specific, and we just so happen to recommend this blog right here.

Originally posted by istillhaveanxiety

I Still Have Anxiety (@istillhaveanxiety​​)

Some people might never understand how a block of cheese product could give someone anxiety. That’s okay. Other people probably have their own story about how sometimes this stuff just happens. That’s okay too. This blog knows the importance of acknowledging your own struggles. To ignore them, or to pack them down to some dark, bad, unknown place is often the worst thing you can do for your own mental health.

Originally posted by hillergoodspeed

The Illustration of H. Goodspeed (@hillergoodspeed​​)

These illustrations are simple and their messages are good. If your mom buys you a shirt and you like it, you should let the world know. And you should definitely let your mom know.

I still don’t believe Michael is dead, at all
This is a telenovela
And the swore up, down and sideways that Rose was dead
Now he is going to come back in some dramatic way after many years, probably with amnesia, a new name and a new family (who have no idea who he really is so it’s an actual pure relationship which makes it so much harder)

Rose somehow faked his death, she knew she couldn’t come back if Michael was still around
He would figure it out
But she also promised Luisa she was done killing, so she did the next best thing to get rid of him (because she does really love Luisa but she can’t leave things up to chance, that’s not who she is)

But in the season finale I believe he will be back, Jane will of finally moved on and then she will see him

And seeing Jane will make Michael start to remember again

Straight out of a telenovela right?

A list of quotes my band director has said

This martini isn’t dirty enough

We need a stronger bottom

Think of the ding dong, I need a lot of ding dong

Have your parents pick you up at 9:010

I want it tasty

Yeah I’m not liking the uterus either

I want you guys to learn beef

Judd: The band is only as good as the weakest link.
Anthony: Fuck we’re gonna lose

Don’t try not to lose time

How can I breathe without no air

I changed my mind, I’m not changing my mind

We got six on the bottom and five on top.

Play an A# instead of an B-flat

Try not to sound like a duck

You fracked your climactic one note of glory

Mikey, stop being pointy

Ziggy, stop hugging Malakai

You can’t frack and never return

If you’re not making Juddy proud, you’re wrong

Stop being an ice cream truck

The leaning tower of Luke Choi

You can all take a breath together after your ding dong

Add a curvy linear

Try not to have a bulge in the front

You need to have a strong d

You’re teasing me melodically

It’s getting a little tight in Darren land

The ding dong is being lost

Ziggy and Daniel are joining the ding dong

Your higher note on the ding dong has even more stress

The ding dong was well projected

I don’t hear enough of the dong

Now we know where we are at. THANK GOD

It needs to be the creepiest 3 blind mice you’ve ever heard

It’s just not big enough

Just grab me, it is destiny

Add weight, like my stomach

Finger the air

Jesus that sounds like cattle

We are not playing Frogger with our instruments

Yo, what’s with that gangster hat

We’re Swiss cheese in the clarinet block

There’s just too much body language, and I don’t appreciate it

If that amp was your mother, she would be proud

It sounds so much better when we don’t breathe

Even though I changed the music, I really haven’t changed the music

You need to have confidence on those bitches

Breathe through 8 counts without taking a breath

Are you a G?

Dylan, you’re an ass

You need to have laser eyes on Lexi

We have to be more smart at rehearsal

I’m a Facebook like Nazi

Dylan, sound like Mickey Mouse

Barisoon

Will’s on fire, somebody put him out

Is there a way to pause without pausing it

I’m literally turning into a parrot

I want Kaitlin on top and everyone else under her

More trumpets, more sex

Hey there J-dog(Justin)

This is Amish paradise

WOAH PIANO

You need to listen for Lexi’s cut-off

Stop yabbadabbading

You’re not good

French horns, don’t put your hand in the bell

I’m hearing wrong fingers

Turn on a new hat

Finger with me

Play it as written, nice and long

Please stop touching each other

You’re the Toungey McToungerson I’ve been hearing the whole time

Just pull it out

You’re not matching the windses dynamics

There’s 2 counts of horse

The best way to spread Christmas cheer is, oh look at that, lunch detention! Congratulations Nikko, Donovan, and Nathan!

Oooo, that was a big one

A bunch of you guys need to be the icing on the cake

*plays invisible banjo passionately*

*sings* IN HIS PANTSSSS

Here’s my time for glory

Imagine you’re in an algebra class, taking a test on trigonometry

Sing your finger one two ready go

I just wanna touch it

*stops band* Jesus, guys

Start at number C

You can play those notes more fuller

You sound like an elementary band learning how to play mallets for the first time

Oh Jesus

Never blink

Jesus, try again

I changed my mind, I haven’t changed my mind

It did got better

Lower my thing

You’re talking into the horn

Play the ding bum

I know you wanna shake it

Hey guys can we get rid of that chair? No chair left behind

Pull out more, more than the D would normally take

We learned how to use our tongues today. You do 16th notes until you are happy

The good ol’ sleight of glove

SUCK IN YOUR DIAPHRAGM MARGARET
MARGARET THIS IS FOR YOU

Take Nikko’s stick and hit it right on the downbeat

I have a guide to fingering and tonguing

That’s enough men for 2 months

Mrs. Mocha and myself might get a little excited

We can’t waste any time (plays G minor as a round twice)

You are a ninja

No girly birds!!!!!!!!

Shake this as you’re doing the wawa

I don’t hear no wawawa

Thunder where are you

Get your life together!

Jacob, you’re nothing

Be smart

I have other beaters in my office

YOU ARE DIFFERENT

You come when it’s time

There’s a lot of ding dongs, I feel like hostess

F all

Speak now or forever hold your run through

Play good

I’m honking my horn, get out of my way

Blend to the beef

Someone strike a D

I AM NOT RELAXED

The hunchback of Notre Justin

Don’t think of a snare, think of an instrument

Oh hello! What’s for dinner? COMPOUND TIME

I feel like I should rent a babysitter and put you in a play pen

Get better

We’re not in a smoking club here saying *cough cough cough* I’ve been doing this for 20 years, like there are like 5 band kids that need cough drops

Right now, you’re playing like a drunken sailor ballerina

*sings* be dahh boo dahhh DINNER TIME

It’s hard for Ryan because he has the runs

It sounds emotional, but it’s the wrong emotion

CUT, wow that’s a mess

Margaret you sound like the recorder version of Titanic on YouTube

You want candy, I want notes

Make it more shapey

FLINGER FLINGER FLINGER. I say FLINGER because it’s not quite there. It’s like you’re playing with octopus hands. Tentacles

This is the sound of not music

We are under the sea

Put your hand on your finger

How to tame your dragon

Right now, you’re a nike check mark

I feel like I’m feeding bread to a duck

We have a lot of articulation problems in the goat heard

*screams* I’M SO MYSTERIOUS

It’s so bad, I feel like I’m on American Airline

Sound like a butterfly. FLY AWAY TUCKER, FLY AWAY

We’re not going to the zoo trombones, no butterflies today

Ba be ba da FORTSZANDO Ba be ba da AAHHH

WOAH! Wait that wasn’t Kaitlin, liar

Oh so you do have it on your stand. Hm. Two liars today *squinches eyes*

BEEEEOOOWEEE

I want to hear a C, not an AAAAAAAA

Your guys’ bad phrasing gave him a bloody nose

Stop looking at me with your glossed over eyes

Why not, HA you thought

Here comes the Dylan!

Ding dong ding dong, don’t be a ding dong

I don’t want to expose everyone right now, but it has to be done

YELL AT ME STEPHANIE. LIKE ALL OF THE ANGER I’VE SAID

I guess I don’t yell enough

There’s limited times when we do that, like the McRib

It sounds like you’re in the bathroom

Don’t look like the hunchback of Notre Clarinet

This is like a daycare or something

It sounds like dinner time

Guys it sounds dorky

*turns to clarinets* bitch

I’ve always wanted to adopt Tucker

Light beer is like pee

Wow Hector, you’re like Jenni Craig

I was a lethal weapon

You have a secret affection for your clarinet

Figure out your life

It makes us sound like the asthma band

Sons of a Thunder Storm

Modern!Reader x Ragnarssons’

Based on this thread


AN: The translation is probably not accurate but I did my best xD Also I did not intend this part to be so long.

Thank you to my sister wives for all the ideas, in part 2 the boys learn about TV, the internet and just get into a lot of trouble.

Translation:

Hvat ef vera á? - What is going on

Hverr þú  - Who’re you



“No.” You groaned as your car made a pitiful clunking sound and started slowly rolling to a stop, glancing at your dead phone. “Why now?” You groaned. The sky cracked and the sound of thunder echoed around the field next to you.

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Marinette Cake

Marichat May Day 2: Purring

Ao3 Link || Other Works

Summary: Chat Noir was very hungry.

And Marinette smelled nice.

Really, really nice.


Meant to be a short drabble, became longer and lead to an identity reveal. Oh well, it was fun to write. c: Hope you enjoy!


Chat Noir was just going home after a lunchtime akuma, and he was starving. He could feel his energy draining from him, and if it weren’t for the suit, he’d probably be collapsed somewhere, starving to death. Then he would die and his father would be arrested for parental neglect. Ladybug would never know what happened. His classmates would mourn…

Speaking of classmates.

He stopped on top of the school when he caught a glimpse of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, holding a sack of flour on her shoulders. She and her father seemed to be unloading some sacks from a delivery truck right outside their bakery. He watched as Marinette put down her sack next to a small towering pile and roll her shoulders as she entered the truck to grab another one, passing her father who had one sack on each shoulder.

He whistled as she easily hoisted another one on her shoulders, impressed. He never knew she was that strong. She always looked so small and soft that seeing her easily carry a sack of flour that was half her size and probably twice her weight was quite a nice surprise.

Chat Noir would be a terrible hero if he didn’t go down there to lend a helping paw. Maybe he could ask for a croissant as repayment. Just one. He was just so hungry, and they were nice people so they’d at least give him one, right?

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Identity Reveals

I love those fics where like Adrien says something to Marinette or Ladybug gives Chat Noir a gift and everything just clicks and they figure out each other’s identities but like

Adrien thought Chloe– who he and Ladybug have rescued together– might be LB

and Marinette literally saw a picture of Adrien dressed as Chat when Alya was like ‘hey Adrien Agreste could be Chat Noir’ and she was like ‘lol nah’

These kids are more oblivious than a block of cheese. They could flat-out transform in front of each other and they’d probably think it was some akuma-caused illusion

  • James: How much cheese have you eaten today?
  • Peter: How much cheese is too much cheese?
  • James: Any amount of cheese before a date is too much cheese!
  • Peter: I had a lot of cheese... I had a block of cheese.
  • James: You had a block of cheese?
  • Peter: I got really, really nervous. I just started eating cheese.
  • James: Does that calm you down?
For honor heroes in a nutshell
  • Warden: Giantdad meta
  • Conqueror: T H E W A L L
  • Peacekeeper: D'Va's "nerf this" quote happening
  • Lawbringer: Extreme grunting edition
  • Raider: really smelly cheese
  • Warlord: big thick block of cheese
  • Berserker: the taiko game from Japan
  • Valkyrie: the fb poke button
  • Kensei: Dad Naruto
  • Shugoki: Reinhardt and Roadhog's love child
  • Orochi: Naruto
  • Nobushi: cheese from a distance

Highlights of the Block B concert in Amsterdam last night:

- Taeil saying (his legendary) “My name is Taeil” introduction
- Zico talking about how accepting the Netherlands is & Jaehyo deciding to start petting Ukwons butt (???)
- Jaehyo saying “stroopwafel”
- P.O. giving a lap dance to kyung
- Kyung being greasy as usual and talking about how there are so many pretty girls in the audience (+the other block b members cringe)
- them naming famous Dutch products and Taeil just staring into the void until grabbing the mic and screaming: “Cheese!”
- Zico saying “Block B Amsterdam, baby!” a million times
- THE BASTARZ PERFORMANCE OH LORD
- them speaking English 33
- Whilst naming famous places in Amsterdam Ukwon saying “the Hilton Hotel” making Zico giggle like a hyena (???) meanwhile Kyung just dodging the question by simply saying “I love you”

anonymous asked:

soooo happy that FMM claire has a bun in the oven!!! would love to see a classic pregnancybrain moment that she gets to share with jamie. mine hit me worst at 5 or 6 weeks in!

Flood my Mornings: Eggs

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  The First Step (Misunderstanding over Claire’s application+ baby news)

“God—DAMMNIT!”

Jamie came awake and jumped out of bed in one single second, stumbling toward the sound of her voice in the kitchen. Stumbling; not running.  He knew from her tone that there was no danger to hand: a ‘goddamnit’ of frustration only. Nonetheless, it was the middle of the night, and Claire—unpredictable and mad as she was, on the whole—didn’t usually take to screaming at random

She was standing over the stove, her hands in fists at her sides and her robe slipping off her shaking shoulders.

“Claire, love?” He put a hand on the small of her back. “Have ye burned yourself?” 

“NO, the—blasted stove is broken—" She was agitated and angry and looked as though she were going to lay a kick to the offending appliance. “I just wanted to scramble eggs but they’re not—not—cooking!

“No? What’s wrong, d'ye think?” he asked, glancing at the pan, which sure enough, held only wet, raw eggs.

“The damned—stove is broken—” she repeated, teeth gritted in frustration as she gestured wildly at the item in question. “I just don’t understand, it was working fine at dinner—but — ”

She gulped air. Then, she burst into tears. 

“Och, hey, shhhh it’s no matter, lass,” he said, half-laughing as he pulled her to him and hugged her tight. “Hey, now, it’s alright—we’ll get a repairman out, if we must—”

She sobbed into his shoulder. “I’ve been trying for ten minutes and I don’t—I don’t—I just wanted EGGS —

“Dinna fash, mo nighean donn,” He choked back a laugh and only rubbed her back, swaying her as though they were dancing cheek-to-cheek, like the song said. “Here, let me make ye something that doesna require heati ” He went mute, gobbled for a moment, then pursed his lips hard together, his wame now convulsing madly from the effort not to burst out laughing . 

“What?” she said sharply at his sudden silence. She pulled back enough to glare at him. “WHAT?” 

Without a word, but with his lips quivering, he released one hand from her waist, reached over….and turned on the Stovetop.

You willna laugh, James Fraser. 

BY HEAVEN, YE *WILL NOT* LAUGH ALOUD AT YOUR PREGNANT WIFE!

But thank GOD his pregnant wife cackled first. 

She dropped her forehead against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his neck, and positively SHOOK with laughter, bringing him right along with her . They slumped against each other, hooting like the wee fools they were.

“Oh Jesus H. CHRIST, what is WRONG with me??” she moaned as she stepped away from him a few minutes later, wiping away tears and still giggling.

“Dinna fash yourself,” he said, turning the Stove off again. “It’s common early in a woman’s carrying, no? To feel a bit daft from time to time?”

“Well, yes, so they say, but—”

“Jen told me once that when she was newly wi’ child (I think it was wi’ Wee Jamie, come to think ) she lost her favorite book of French folktales and was near-distraught. Then the next planting season, she was turning the soil of the kailyard and up came Contes des Fées along with the rotted cabbage roots.”

“Oh, Jenny,” Claire hooted, leaning back against the counter. “Well, that does make me feel a bit less insane. It’s just so strange—I don’t remember anything of the sort with Faith or Brianna.” 

“No, indeed?”

“I should have thought that by my third pregnancy, I would have seen it all! Apparently not!”

He stepped into her arms and kissed her deeply. He didn’t want to voice the sad thoughts running through his mind. The still-raw grief from the loss of Faith. That at this phase of her last pregnancy, Claire had been close to starvation from months of war on the slow march toward Culloden. Much might have been missed, amid that bleak time; much had been missed, since. 

But those sorrows were of another life, and had no place in the foolish glee of this night. He said only, “No child of ours would make things easy for us, would they?”

“No indeed.” She rubbed her abdomen and made a stern face at it. “Just don’t make Mummy jump off a cliff or anything permanent, alright, little one?”  

Jamie grinned and added his hand, spanning them both. “Aye, young Fraser, be nice to your Mama, or you’ll have ME to answer to.”  They both sighed then, with twin, happy, humming sounds. 

Jamie did some quick calculation. “It’ll be August, aye?”

She smiled and nodded. “I think so—can’t say for sure precisely when we conceived, but yes, August approximately.” She suddenly groaned. “Oh, LORD, that means I’ll be carrying a 7-, 8-, and 9-month baby in SUMMER.” 

“Well, never you fear, Sassenach: I’ll be here with all the lemonade and cool cloths ye might desire.” 

“Well, that sounds much better than last time. God, this time next year, we’ll have him or her with us. Can you imagine?” She beamed. 

As did he, imagining. A new bairn. A wee brother or sister for Brianna. Getting to see Claire carry a child in peace and under the care of doctors. Getting to hold his child from the moment they would be born…. 

He kissed her temple. “Go sit yourself down, mo ghraidh, while I make ye some eggs.”

“Oh, no, I can do it!” She turned toward the Stovetop, catching up the Spatula. “Now that I know it’s just a matter of turning ON the bloody —”

He turned her firmly away and settled her into the chair. “I insist.” 

“You really don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, Jamie—I’m perfectly capable, and for all my teasing, I don’t expect royal treatment.” 

“Aye, I ken that. But it’s my joy to take care of ye, Sassenach. Always, but—particularly now that you’re carrying our child.” He took the Spatula from her hand in a manner that brokered no argument.

She sighed and then grinned up at him. “Well in that case, I’d feel much better cared for if you’d put cheese on the top.”

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.” He opened the Frigidaire, peering. “Sorry, I dinna think we have any.” 

“No, no, I know we do,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows and glancing confidently around the kitchen. “Just had it in my hand a few min—ohforfuck’ssake—

She walked with dignity to the counter, and oh-so-casually picked up the block of cheese.  

From the soap dish. 


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