#im making pasta

[meringuejellyfish]

oh my worm

[soupmode0]

pasta soon pasta soon

[songofsaraneth]

every time i ask people if they do any new years resolutions its all ooooo i dont like making them bc i fail or ohhhhh no i couldnt keep up wiht that and then when they ask me and i tell them about Pasta Quest (i am eating as many different pasta shapes as possible in the space of a year) or when i did Fruit Adventures (every time i saw a fruit i had never eaten before id get one and eat it and read the wikipedia article about it) theyre like hang on i forgot you can make Fun Ones i want a fun one

[elizabethmasen]

was feeling genuinely horrifically nauseous, for quite awhile, and then I've just grated some lemon and I am alive again. god bless citrus. 

[julykings]

summer’s end

[sugared-violets]

holy shit please listen to Sherlock & Co i'm fucking wheezing

W: "you built... a hugging machine?"

H: "yes, the deep pressure is quite to my tastes... self-regulation, you see"

W: "i mean... i can just give you a hug. if you want."

H: "you can? excellent."

W: "well... come here, then"

😭😭😭

[botanybulbasaur]

Schneider's family ; The significance of Marian

REVERSE 1999 SPOILERS AHEAD : FOR CHAPTERS 1 AND 2 ! Please tread carefully and make sure you only read about what you're willing to know.

I know we're all still completely in shambles from Chap. 2, but I wanted to make a speculation about Schneider-- and a comment about how well she's written !

Let me start with this: In many pieces of media, viewers, listeners and readers alike are told that a character has people they care for. They're told a character has a lover, a wife, kids, a family, a sister. We're told the same about Schneider: that she has 11 older siblings, and that she works in the mafia to support them.

However, it's very rarely that we're given a name and a face for these supposed loved ones. And even rarer is it that they're written well, not just as a ploy for empathy, but as their own character: Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed guests: I present to you, Marian.

Marian is one of my favorite characters just as a stand-alone: she's realistic, she's anxious, she clings to Schneider like a lifeline-- but she's brave, too. I'd love to do an in-depth analysis on her another time, but we're here for another reason.

Marian, first of all, shows us what Schneider's family is like. How they were raised, what they believe in, who they depend on. Soft topic, I know, but as someone of Italian lineage, it's very important to me that I point this out: Marian is extremely religious.

Immigrants of every kind tend to be religious. It gives them much more faith than they ever could have: a new lifeline. They managed to make it across such a winding sea? Oh, thank the lord. They haven't been kicked out of the Americas for emigration? Thank you, holy one. There's so many more reasons for this than "they need something they don't have"- maybe the fact that the rendition of god in every religion is said to love everybody, not just those who were born into wealthy families with the bluest eyes and the blondest hair.

When in a moment with no reason, and all different kinds of desperate measures being needed.. Schneider does what her family coaxes her to. She prays.

(I can't find a screenshot, but please refer to the iconic "I didn't know you prayed" scene, and the screenshot directly below this sentence.)

I also want to point out a large difference between Schneider and her family: Schneider's perspective on a 'god' differs so, so much from her family's.

She looks to whoever may be above, in her world, scornfully-- at least, in the present day. In her past, there is a particularly impactful line I want to debunk.

"The god there ... loves the world." Schnider's family seems to believe that god was the one guiding them, the one who will forgive them-- Schneider believed that it was a whole different entity. This kid believes that the god in Sicily, whoever they may be, does not love the world-- and mio dio, if that's not fucked up, I don't know what is.

And, when Schneider comes to America and sees that shit isn't as it's cut off to be, she's resentful of whoever this god may be. She gives a pray as her last bet-- what her family wants.

And it's not that she doesn't believe in this god-- no. She just doesn't believe they love her.

"Finally forgive me" -- Finally being the key word here. She's lived all her life never being treated to mercy or being 'forgiven for her sins' -- and at her most fragile, exposed moment, she relents to what her family has taught her. To what she truly believes-- to Sicily, to Marian, her sorella. Maybe even all 11 sorelle and her parents.

And, again, they're different at face value. Marian is calm, kind. She dresses modest and has her hair grown out: she's timid, too, not befitting of a mafia boss. She's different from her younger sister.. but she's still important. She shows us another side of Schneider: and, more importantly, she shows us what-- no, who Schneider is fighting for.

Marian provides us with extremely beneficial background context of where Schneider comes from-- and, in that process, gives many of us someone to empathize with. Yes, I too know somebody at least a little like her. You do too, likely.

Maybe, you're even like Schneider-- maybe she's someone you'd aim to protect.

,,aaand that's the little lore rant. Whew! Now to study for my math finals. I hope you have a good day :)

[pillowspace]

NOTE: although I've now finished Ruin, this was written for fun when I had only seen the first half. Its relation is limited

(Wasn't) Worth Fixing by clutterspace

You find the Daycare Attendant of your childhood hidden behind your apartment building, severely damaged.

You... probably weren't intended to.

G | Words: 1,386 | Chapters: 1/1

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

Your mother used to work as a technician at the pizza place half-way across town when you were little. It took some time for you really memorize the name—Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex—when all you did as a young child was raise your hands up high to your mother so tall and ask when you could go to pizza.

For every day she had gone to work, she brought you with her. You boundlessly scribbled in Freddy Fazbear themed colouring books with crayon on the near silent bumpy car ride there, as she had always requested the quiet before the cacophany of shouting noise the mall offered its full family guests. And much too young to be let loose among the older children, you had always been dropped off at the establishment's daycare before her shift.

The place had once held a charm to it, a brightly coloured wonder of dizzying family fun that evolved into a more thoughtful appreciation for the advanced robotics you eventually grew old enough to possess. Even the daycare had been attended to by a single machine, and to this day, you genuinely wondered sometimes if the bounciness of life its creaky frame held had really been there at all, a marvel of technological advancement, or if it was only the low standard magic that all little eyes saw the world through. Your memories were few and far between, but it had been a joyous place that looked upon you kindly, and much of that credit went to that very machine in place.

It was enough to make you feel a little bad for just how much you begged your mother to let you freely roam outside of the daycare later on, but life went on and on for little minds, and it wasn't a thought worth lingering upon.

When you blessedly just barely became old enough for it, you had gotten your wish granted to you by your exhausted mother, and stuck closely around the Glamrocks and their masses of crowds from then on. It was an endlessly exciting change from the norm, and the musical daycare of childish screams and brightly enthused words of encouragement that had welcomed you with open arms became an afterthought.

You had asked your mother one day where Bonnie went. The older kids had spoken in jokes that fell like cruelty upon your ears, and it was only your mother who might as well have been the CEO in your eyes who you could trust. Older now, you knew there was no harm in the jokes the other children had made among one another, but that a mind so easily swayed could only listen in horror.

Your mother had not sugar-coated it, much too used to the more grown-up side of her occupation to bother. You would have been fine to hear that he was on vacation, or off to bigger and better performances across the globe. You would have smiled, proud to hear of his accomplishments. But the words she told you had been without care.

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

It had been a nagging fear that crept over your spine for a year afterwards that the same could ever happen to you, childishly lacking in the understanding of your differences in value to the surrounding world.

And it was as you silently stared back into the wild, frozen, broken eyes dimly illuminating the dark, filthy alleyway between apartment buildings in vibrant yellow and red hues, with a right hand on your own open back door's handle and a left hand tightly gripped around a filled garbage bag at your side years later, that those very words rung back to you.

Police sirens blared in the distance, but that was the usual.

People talked, but knew little. There had been something off from the usual in town lately, police cars circling the area endlessly. They were looking for someone, or something. And your neighbours speculated, but they all speculated different topics amongst themselves, bringing all that mystery down to a he said, she said, who cares anymore. It all became naught but a backdrop with no follow-up.

Maybe no one wanted to hear a possibly dangerous animatronic was on the loose. Or- no. Maybe just no one wanted to admit to the potentially catastrophic failing, what with the previous rumours already spiralling out of control. A silent capture was in play.

The animatronic looked banged up, shattered holes all along its body. Fabric was littered with rips and tears, while not an inch of casing went uncracked. Its rays adorned with a familiar blue hat were broken, and its faceplace was almost entirely shattered in half. But despite all of the horrific damage it bore, you could recognize the animatronic for the daycare of your early childhood from anywhere, even though only an hour prior, you would not have recalled its form. It held itself still under your gaze, and you too did not move, for there was a shocked terror in the way it held itself firmly pressed against the bottom of the wall, too-thin metal fingers cracking the pavement beneath it.

It looked so scared for something (someone?) that could easily do to you what it was doing to the pavement. Though you doubted that it had any desire to do so.

You didn't know how long you two stared, until finally, you took the slowest step you could towards the garbage bin that stood only a couple feet away in the dim alleyway. The second you moved even an inch, a mechanical hum rose in volume from the wary animatronic's metal body that reminded you of the sounds your own computer makes. It didn't move, didn't talk, only watched you out of the corner of your eye as you ever so slowly made your way towards the bin. You lifted the garbage bag into it, and the clattering sound of its contents shifting within rung out much too loud for the careful silence you required. You internally recoiled from the noise, but outwardly showed not a reaction as you inched your way back towards your door as if nothing out of place had been seen at all.

Your hand fell upon the door as you stepped up across the threshold. You did not walk any further, and instead looked over your shoulder at the vulnerable state the broken, hiding animatronic you had unintentionally spotted was in. You inhaled, feeling doubtfully uncertain, but reminiscent for the sounds of shrieking laughter and the ever so foggy memory of a large sunshine grin poking into a play structure to announce that you had been found. As advanced as its facial recognition likely was, you sincerely doubted that it could connect you back to the toddler you had once been. It had no idea who you were, and therefore had no intentions of ever having been seen by you. But even if it did, would that matter at all? You couldn't be but a single file and a brief, fading memory to its systems.

(It seemed smaller like this, but you knew that you had only grown taller.)

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

"They check this alleyway," you whispered into the cool night air. A small clicking sound of an unknown origin sounded out from the animatronic at the sound of your voice. It did not respond, but you did not expect it to.

You turned away and walked inside of your home, intent on brushing your teeth and going to bed.

You did not close the door behind you. An unspoken invitation, because surely you would not be to blame if the ever so frightening machine found its way into your home all on its own.

You stayed in your bedroom for the rest of the night, and when the muffled sounds of police sirens finally circled back towards your street, you just barely heard the almost inaudible sound of your back door quietly clicking shut. You did not emerge, no matter what shuffling noises you heard afterwards, and instead rolled over in bed to play a song from your phone's lit screen into your newly pushed in earbuds.

If anyone asked, they had been in all night.

[tiny-huts]

I love Jarlaxle so much and I think the fact that he likes to cook is one of the most endearing things about him. But you know his ADHD ass is up at 2am making some Tik Tok ass crazy food experiment because he was curious

[endofbeginings]

Thinking about mamma rossella and ferrari drivers over the years.... cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead HAND IN HEART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[pastasilly]

buggy and arlong divorce arc., its joever for clownfish nation

[thatqueerbat]

and with tangos stream ending, that wraps up my (unintentional) liveblog of the decked out day shenanigans

this's been such a fun time, thank you so much to tango and grian for organising this, all the hermits, all the guests, everyone for doing this and having fun and streaming for us

and thank You, if you're reading this! its been so fun to see everyones posts, start recognising some peoples names, finding new friends to follow. its been an absolute blast, and i hope it happens again

everyone go stretch, drink some water, have food or go to bed if you need to! take care of yourselves 💚💛❤️

[momotonescreaming]

Picky eater Robin and Steve who'll eat literally anything. They balance each other out

The perfect pair

[heartfulselkie]

Spilled my cheesy pasta all over the floor

Now I'm fighting the cat because he is ravenous for cheese

My life is a tragicomedy at this point

[coridallasmultipass]

HAPPY 413! Here's more of the [non-Sburb AU] Filipino/multiracial Striders I write and draw. Bitter melon was on sale in the store, so I bought a ton, and I was like, 'How can I make this Homestuck content?' Lol. I like the taste, but I thought it would be funny to have Bro bully Dave into eating it as a punishment for being a sneaky vegetable-hating teen. (Good thing Lil Cal is always there to keep an eye on him when Bro is out.)

Idk, mostly wanted to draw the food, bc bitter melon looks so fun when it's sliced like that.

Bro and Dave are both trans men.

Image text below cut:

[Dave walks in on Bro cooking. Lil Cal is seated at the table already.] Dave: the fuck- what are you cooking Bro: Ginisang ampalaya. Heard you're not eatin' your veggies. Dave: cal... fuckin snitch Bro: HEY. Dave: seriously what is that alien dick Dave: ugh its all bumpy too Bro: Bitter melon. It tastes like cucumber skin, but has a better texture. Dave: fuckin gross Bro: What, are you a fuckin' pussy? Too white to try pagkaing Pilipino? ["Filipino food"] Dave: damn right if it involves warty dick-cumbers Dave: aint filipino no more Dave: gonna have to hog the white genes on this Bro: Here. Prob want some cock sauce on that. [The food has crisp bitter melon, melted tomatoes, and scrambled eggs.] Dave: ugh do i have to eat it Bro: Yes. [Everyone is seated at the table. 'Cock sauce' is Sriracha because of the rooster on the bottle.] Dave: oh its not bad Dave: ... [The bitterness sets in.] Lil Cal: HAA HAA Dave: is this even edible Bro: Sure is. [Bro eats it normally.] And if I hear you're not eating your vegetables... Well, I'll just have to cook more of the same thing dad used to make me. There's enough to last all week. Dave: ...fuck Bro: Eat up. It's healthy. Dave: please dont make me eat this Dave: ill eat any other vegetables ok? just not this Bro: That's what I wanna hear. But you're still finishing this one. For throwing out all that food. Dave: ugh END.

[soldier-poet-king]

*everyone at the farmers market wishes to know me carnally meme voice* I'm the most eligible person in this apartment