smashed potatos

9

zero talent

anonymous asked:

hey! i know you said you mostly do reddie but i was wondering if you would be kind enough and do some stozier too.. maybe with stan being in love with richie but he not noticing it? let it be bc of eddie so there's reddie too :D

hey! its not a problem. :-) honestly i think this is a fun idea and even refreshing bc of all the reddie stuff i have to write so i feel like keeping this as up as series might help me with my writers block idk??? but yeah, there’s some reddie and also cheerleader!eddie 
warnings; drinking at the end but not heavy. also minor mentions of sex  

does any reddie shipper from the tag list want off of it with this fic? does any stozier shipper wanna get on it for this? tell me and i will grant your wish 

Keep reading

Cooking

the series read as follows:

SupermanMondayCheezy PouffsBaconStumblingTrail Mix …  PunchFridayPreparationUncle MudlerNormalBackseatMudler-senseThe FBIUnthinkablePatience … Elephant Jokes

___________________

The next three days were a blur for Scully. She had to leave Mulder home with Maggie as well as the children, scared and scarred but attempting to front with a calm that gave them away as frightened of their own shadows and everything else in the world. The four parents couldn’t get home without paying exorbitant amounts of money and dealing with three days of layover/circuitous route travel so it was Sam, brave heart and soul, whom, that first morning after Scully went to work, spoke for the group, relaying the firm and utterly untrue message of ‘we are fine and we will see you when you get back.”

Maggie watched him deliver his lie to speakerphone-anxious parents, then hang up, tears shining but unfallen as he sniffed hard, turning to regard everyone shorter than him, “we’re gonna stop crying about our parents. They are on vacation and they need it so we’re gonna let them stay on it. Understand?”

Keep reading

3

If you love No. 6 more than your future first born clap your hands
CLAP CLAP

If you need No. 6 more than you need air to breathe clap your hands
CLAP CLAP

If you’re fucking obsessed with No. 6 and your life is officially ruined by these precious angel characters if you love No. 6 clap your hands
CLAP CLAP

Can you tell I love No. 6? Because I fucking love No. 6. Fun fact, I even have a headcanons blog for this shit because I am a huge fucking loser when it comes to this god damn precious show.

Don’t lie, you are too. The adorable emotionally damaged homos, the fabulous genderqueer person raised by dogs, the radical mom who’s a radical baker? True perfection.

One thing that’s pretty awesome about the show is their fucking food, so I attempted to make a recipe similar to Nezumi’s Macbeth Soup, and I came up with something really similar to a Japanese Milk Stew. So hold on to your panties because we gon’ make some Macbeth Soup.

~

Nezumi’s Macbeth Soup
(servings- 2, one for your and one for the life size cut out of Shion that you have in your closet)



Ingredients-

  • 1 chicken thigh, cut into one inch chunks with the skin off
  • 1 carrot, peeled and cut into bite size pieces
  • 1 onion, sliced into ¼ inch thick
  • 3 cloves of fresh garlic, smashed and minced
  • 2 potatoes, peeled and cut into bite size pieces
  • 2 ½ cups water
  • 2 chicken consomme cubes
  • 1 cup milk
  • 2 Tbsp flour
  • 2 Tbsp butter
  • 2 Tbsp cream cheese
  • 1 bee parasite (optional, not really recommended)

Procedure-

  • Cry over the fact that you’ll never have a relationship like Nezumi and Shion’s like the fuckin fujoshi weeaboo you are.
  • Season chicken with salt and pepper. Heat a little bit of oil in a deep pan and saute the chicken on medium high heat until browned.
  • Add onion and saute on medium heat until translucent. Afterwards, add the carrot, garlic and potatoes and stir-fry that biz about as fast as Nezumi was when he cut that random fuckin bee thing out of Shion’s neck. 
  • Pour 2 ½ cup of water in the pan and bring to a boil. Turn down the heat to low and add consomme cubes. Simmer until carrots and potatoes are softened.
  • Meanwhile, make white sauce in a sauce pan. Melt butter on low heat and stir in flour to make a little roux. Cook the flour until bubbles, mixing well.
  • Pour milk and cook on medium heat, stirring quickly until it begins to thicken. Lower the heat and continue to stir until the mixture is thickened even further.
  • Stop the heat and set aside. Take some of the soup from the stew and mix with cream cheese in a small cup. Stir the cream cheese mixture in the stew.
  • Add the white sauce into the stew and stir that shit till it’s totally combined.
  • Add some salt and pepper to season to your liking.
  • Think about how much better the No. 6 novels were compared to the manga and weep furiously over the inadequates Bones Original Anime Ending.

~

HOLY FUCKING BALLS YOU JUST MADE SOME MACBETH SOUP. I mean sure, you’re never going to destroy a corrupted government or climb a mountair of dead bodies, but at least you succeeded in making soup, so I guess that’s worth something, maybe.

Go enjoy your Macbeth soup with some of Karan’s Cherry Cake and a loaf of mini french bread you piece of trash, you deserve it after all the suffering you had to endure without any updates to this fabulous series.

Later, weebs. Try not to cry when you realize how truly unproductive you’ve been the whole day.

And no, doodling fanart of your shitty OTP is not ‘being productive’ but nice try.

LOVE YOU, BYE~ 

Fifth Christmas, Part 2

the series is as follows so far:

FirstSecond ThirdFourthFifthFifth Christmas, Part 2SixthSeventhEighthNinthTenthEleventhTwelfthThirteenthFourteenthFifteenthSixteenthSeventeenthEighteenthNineteenthTwentiethTwenty-firstTwenty-secondTwenty-third

A/N: I shall now interrupt my regularly scheduled ‘Christmas’ series with an little added bonus … a little extra floofiness if you will … Mulder’s Christmas Day with the Scully’s …

************

He was a grown-ass man.

He should not have damned butterflies playing roller derby in his stomach.

It was only Christmas morning.

Christmas morning with the Scully’s.

All of them.

Nine adults … seven kids … 10,000 presents … one tree … 20 pounds of smashed potatoes … two roasters of ham … three cakes, chocolate with sprinkles, vanilla with cherry filling and black cherry frosting, carrot with to-die-for cream cheese decadence … one shirt collar that suddenly felt entirely too tight and two shoes that squeaked.

He was going to die before he hit the front door.

Noticing his palm-sweating nerves and jiggling knee, she parked in front of the house but didn’t get out, instead taking his damp hand in hers, “are you dying? Do we need to go back home? Are you afraid of the short people that will be hopped up on Santa and Christmas cookies? Are you afraid of the tall ones whom you’ve met or the ones you haven’t? Will you survive my mother’s 2-ton Christmas feast?”

The smile she tried to contain and the panic he couldn’t made her squeeze his knee with her other hand, reaching across the shifter to touch him twice at once.

Butterflies turned to rampant electricity in his veins and a giddy, hitched chuckle arose, “all of the above. I have no idea why I’m nervous but I am and I’m an idiot.”

This time, when her lips feathered his cheek, he nearly busted a gasket but remained calm, “you will be fine. The kids are gonna love you because you’re really tall and look like you would be perfectly willing to give shoulder rides. Just stick with them if all else fails.”

“How do I look willing to give shoulder rides?”

“You don’t but when Hannah asks you to, you will melt and do it and it’ll all snowball and you’ll go home tonight perfectly happy and slightly bruised from the heels that have been banging your upper chest all day.”

Giving her hand a last squeeze, he let go, “come on, let’s go see how my first real Christmas in 25 years is gonna play out.”

He was out of the car and waiting for her before she slowly slipped from the car, not gathering her armload of gifts yet but coming to his side, standing up on the curb to get a better height on him. In a quiet voice that blending with the barely dawning sky, “but you go to your mom’s for Christmas every year.”

‘Cause he couldn’t lie to her, not on such an honest morning, “not every year and it’s never fun or relaxing or remotely real. Usually it’s forced pleasantries and stuffy food and awkward silences and I escape as soon as duty allows.” He didn’t want to bring her down so he kissed her on the nose, a quick peck there and gone, “and we’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.”

Sliding her wool-covered arms under his, she rested her cheeks against the cold material of his coat, hugging him tightly, fierce-protective mode in high gear, “I’m sorry. If I’d have known that, I’d have been dragging you along with me from the beginning.”

He settled his arms around her, face turned, cheek on top of her winter cap, “thank you.”

They stayed like this longer than they should have and the front door opening, her cousin’s voice carrying across the cold from the front porch, “break it up, woman and get your butt inside. The longer you stand out here, the longer I have to keep these kids barricaded upstairs and the natives are getting restless!”

Lifting her head to survey her cousin with a smile, “Shut up, Dave. You’re gonna wake the entire neighborhood.”

“It’s Christmas. They shouldn’t be asleep anyways. Now make room for Jesus and come inside or I’ll have to sic Aunt Maggie on you.”

They hustled after this, not wanting to impose the wrath of Mama Scully and her very real threats of burned ham and coal in stockings. Getting in the front door with both Mulder and gifts in tow, she kicked Dave lightly in the shins, getting his flannel pajamas snowy, “you are not getting a gift.”

“Good, ‘cause I didn’t get you anything either.” Grabbing her head in a hug, “Merry Christmas, old lady.”

Once he disappeared back up the steps, Mulder turned to her, “I like him.”

“He’ll like you back. Trust me.”

They no sooner had gotten shoes off and coats hung then feet began pounding down the stairs, tumbling past them, yelling ‘Merry Christmas’ as they passed. The small people were followed by the big people, Charlie and Dave racing down just as loudly, yelling ‘Feliz Navidad’ and some kind of boisterous holiday exclamation in what sounds suspiciously like Klingon.

Mulder looked at Scully, already feeling his nervousness fading into astonished anticipation, “this is gonna be fun.”

Reaching over, she pulled him behind her by the hand, “come on. The tree’s back here.”

&&&&&&&&&

There were gifts but only two each, then Maggie cut everybody off, her two sons and nephew the loudest of the good-natured protestors, telling them that mass was in an hour and they had 15 minutes to get ready to leave.

Mulder looked at Scully, “mass?”

With a guilty look flooding her face, “I totally forgot to mention that, didn’t I? I’m sorry. We always either go to Midnight Mass or Christmas morning. I guess they didn’t go last night.” Leaning forward on her elbows, she turned to look at him, “you don’t have to go. Mom won’t mind. You can just hang out here and take a nap or just,” digging for the book Maggie got her, she held it out to him, “read this.”

Taking the book but setting in beside her without a glance, “do you think your God is accurate enough to hit only me with the lightning bolt? I mean, I’ll go but only if I can guarantee I’m the only one who’s going to get struck.”

Scully’s lips curved in a knowing smirk, “he’s got good aim but I think you’ll be fine.”

“Then I’d like to go.”

&&&&&&&&&&&

He had never experienced a full-on Christmas mass before, especially not one with 16 people packed in one pew, kids doing their best to be quiet, suppressing their antsy, I’ve got gifts at home waiting demeanor and failing miserably. Scully, though, held his hand at required parts and kept holding his hand at parts where no one else held hands at all.

He missed most of what the priest talked about but he enjoyed the singing and the smells, which he meant to ask about but forgot because of, well, the hand-holding. Soon, they were all leaving the pew for communion and Mulder moved with them but Scully gently shook her head, whispering, “we’ll be back. You stay here.”

He didn’t care about it anyways. Mostly, he just missed her hand and spent the entire time they were out of the pew wondering if he would get it back when she returned.

He did.

He enjoyed Mass very much.

He retook her mittened hand once they got outside, opening her door for her and just grinning when she mentioned he must be trying to store up brownie points for something.

Then she reached for his damp wool glove on the short drive home.

&&&&&&&&&

Breakfast was phenomenally loud, things spilling, burned bacon, which Mulder loved and Scully knew and kept slipping onto his plate. He in turn gave her all his strawberries and whipped cream from his pancakes … partners to the end in both crime fighting and breakfast shenanigans.

Present opening began as soon as the last dish was washed and dried. Mulder chose to settle on the floor against the wall, Scully designated present-passer-outer for this leg of the insanity, stealing glances at him each time she came near and without fail, caught him looking back, locking away every glance like an addled schoolboy who’s crush had just discovered his existence and may forget again with her next heartbeat.

Then she stopped in front of him, a big smile on her face and a bigger box, “Merry Christmas from Mom and I.”

The look he gave her must have been so filled with stunned bewilderment that she suddenly dropped to her knees, hugging him and the big box close, whispering in his ear, “please, smile. You’re gonna make me cry.”

So he did, pulling away to reveal a gigantic grin, “want to help me open it?”

Still crouching in front of him, she shook her head, “nope but I’m going to watch.”

Inside, there was an enormous collection of crazy themed socks and horribly wonderful ties, bags of sunflower seeds, 10 pairs of sunglasses, a whole container of homemade peanut butter marshmallow fudge that he loved with all his soul and stomach and Maggie knew he loved, the entire collection of Star Trek on DVD and a keychain with an alien head on it, which Scully leaned over to tell him quietly that Maggie had picked out everything but the seeds and the ties.

Standing right up, he hauled Maggie up from the couch and hugged her, squeezing her until someone made an amused comment to let go of his mother before he broke her in half.

Not wanting to break the lovely woman in charge of making him fudge, he released her, then sat back down, immediately changing his socks.

After that, Scully turned over the gift distribution reins to Matt and sidled up beside him, leaning into his side more than platonically allowable but less than I’ve seen you naked expected.

He was in some kind of Irish heaven and he never wanted to leave.

&&&&&&&&

Caught in that lull between presents and dinner, the house gradually went quiet, all kids and adult males gone from the living room. Mulder was beginning to wonder what had happened when suddenly, “hey, Mulder?”

The voice had bellowed from the kitchen and Scully pushed him to stand, “I’d go see what he wants or he’ll just keep yelling.”

Mulder disappeared into the kitchen and when he didn’t return after 5 minutes, Scully went to investigate. She found him, Dave, Charlie and all the kids sharing two very large chocolate chip cookies. The entire lot of them turned in unison and wore the same guilty look at which Scully laughed, “you could have at least invited me. I’m starving.”

“We needed sustenance and girls tattle.” Looking down at his daughter, Charlie whispered, “really, it’s just your Aunt Dana.”

“That’s true. Did I ever tell you about your dad …”

“Just get over here, eat your cookie and shut it.”

Reaching her hand over the crowd, “make sure there’s chocolate in my piece.”

Maggie caught them a few moments later but by then, all evidence was gone, crumbs picked up with licked thumbs and chewing finished, swallowing proceeding as Maggie opened the swinging kitchen doors, “what are you all doing in here very quietly?”

12 people said, once again in unison, “nothing.”

“Fox?”

Knowing a mom going after the most vulnerable, he looked her square in the eye, “nothing.”

She squinted in their direction, “I can smell the guilt and it smells like chocolate.” They all stood their ground, even the four-year old, until Maggie just smiled, “get out of my kitchen unless you want to help me chop things.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Dinner, once everyone was arranged and Graham was sitting beside Mulder, Hannah on his other side, went smoothly. There were stories and jokes and spontaneous off-key Christmas carol singing.

Mulder also got himself a cheekful of potatoes from Scully, who reached over Hannah to do it, “what was that for?”

“Inauguration. No one gets out of Christmas without potatoes.” Nodding towards Sarah, Dave’s wife, “she got an earful her first Christmas. Be thankful it was only your cheek.”

Joanna spouted off, “I got it in the nose so be extra happy about your cheek.”

“These things, Scully, that I didn’t know and will make you pay for later on are astounding.”

Maggie cut them off, laughing, “so help me, if I have another holiday food fight in this kitchen, I take back all my presents.”

Charlie slowly put his loaded spoon down.

So did Bill.

&&&&&&&&&&

Everyone but Mulder, Scully and Maggie were either asleep or already on their way back home by nine that night and as Scully let out her third yawn in less than five minutes, Mulder nudged her knee, “ready to go? I still have to drive home after we get to your place.”

With a nod, she stood, swaying slightly, “you awake enough to drive my car?”

“Sure.” Giving Maggie another tight hug, “thank you so much for everything. I’ve never … I just … I’ve had the greatest time.”

Squeezing him back, “you are welcome anytime, Fox, never forget that.”

Once on the front porch with the door shut and locked behind them, Mulder stopped her, putting down their bags of gifts and leftovers. Giving her her own hug, then light kiss on her rosy, chapped lips, “there was Mistletoe hanging over the front door but I waited until we dind’t have an audience in case you hit me.”

Guffawing out a frozen chuckle, she shifted up on her toes and kissed him back, close-lipped and quick, “I’d never hit you for kissing me under the Mistletoe, Mulder. Believe me.”

As he opened her door, “Hand. Down. Best. Day. Ever.”

Astray 2/7

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: badboy taehyung !!! y/n likes him makes him sure of it kinda clingy he gets sick of it tells her to piss off and angsty stuff he gets jealous when y/n starts hanging out with another guy and so confesses in a cliche badboy way

Word count: 4453

A/N: I’m really sorry I’m uploading so slowly… I’ve been a rather busy and so has been my beta.. Either way I hope you like it ^^“

Taehyung was trying his best not to fall asleep as Mr. Roux explained the impact the American Independence war had on the French economy. It wasn’t that the lesson wasn’t interesting, it was, but he had gone over that topic with ___________ already and he had a pretty bad night of sleep so staying awake was really difficult. To be completely honest, if it wasn’t because he knew she was sitting right behind him he wouldn’t have even bothered, but he didn’t want her to think he didn’t care. She had been helping him a lot so he felt it’d be unfair if he didn’t do at least the minimum effort.

He had started to take notes rather diligently since the beginning of the class, but one could easily tell by looking at his notebook that he had gradually lost interest in what was being said by his teacher. If at first it almost seemed like he was able to take note of everything the teacher had said, quickly the sentences had become shorter, and towards the end of the class, not even his doodles depicted anything concrete.

The class was about to finish when Mr. Roux called out a couple of students that wouldn’t stop talking. He asked them a few questions they obviously were unable to answer.

“I mean I don’t get it. Like… so… I mean… Like you’re saying that the Americans provoked the French Revolution?”

Not being able to hide his annoyance, Taehyung couldn’t help but make a grimace, how could anyone get to such conclusion? Even without listening to the lesson?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

*Smashes the potato*

Maybe you should look under your bed tonight, dirty pig.

͎̯̺I Ć̞A͜N͡ ̬͓̰͔͞S̠͖EÉ̦̬̳̯͖̰ ̞̙Y̫̲ͅO̭͚̩͉U͚̱͙͉͇̻̻ ͜T̡H̵R͈̩O͏͇̫̯U̷͓͖̪̻̝̘̻G̻̲̣͢H͇̬ T̛̯̙̼͓̬͖͇Ḥ̀E̖̙̜̣͟ ̪̮͍̬̩̕ͅW̗͚̦̝̦̭͢ͅI̩͎ͅN̲͓̺D̙O͓̥M҉̱̫̦̘͇͇ͅ ̸