#viking sausage

[mcyt-incorrect-promptstuff]

The life after Afterlife can get pretty awkward.

But as Joel looked up at the viking in front of him a part of him knew that it couldn’t get worse than this.

“Thor!?”

“Well, uh, kinda?”

[stinkfacestories]

The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.

The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.

He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.

He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.

The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.

"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.

Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts." 

You rolled your eyes. "Not really."

"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.

"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"

"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."

You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".

"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"

He  pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.

"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.

He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.

"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”

"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.

"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"

"No!" You coughed.

"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.

"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.

"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.

"Fuck...no," you say.

He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.

"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"

"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.

"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.

"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"

"They're funny!"

"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"

"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."

"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"

"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."

He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"

"Oh god no!"

"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.

"No, no, I can't."

"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.

"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black. 

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.

“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.

"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.

"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.

"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"

He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.

"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "

You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."

"It was a lot. It was," he said.

He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.

You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."

He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.

"Now you" he said 

You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.

"What the hell. Do it"

"I don't know if I can," you said.

"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.

"I can't."

"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"

"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."

"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to.  Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.

"Your brother's coming over?"

"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."

"Wait..."

"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."

"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.

"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."

"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"

"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."

You laughed.

All you could do was laugh.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

5, 17, 25, 29

For the ask game, please!

woooo! more asks! Thank you thank you! :D <3

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Oooh probably a few of the ones listed in the previous ask about fic ideas that I have noodling around in my head.

Off the top, I'll probably not write "Grima Becomes King" even though it would be fun. Mostly because I know it would be the world's longest fic and the idea of writing it makes me feel tired.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Oh man, many things. What comes to mind is how much I've learned about late antiquity/early medieval Scandinavia for all things Rohan & Grima related.

I think an interesting tid-bit was the gender disparity of infanticide. Not shocking, given how patriarchal Scandinavian society was at the time, but far, far more girls were killed than boys. Also skeletal remains show that in times of famine, boys were given more (and better) food than the girls.

(don't tell tumblr, they're very keen on thinking Viking (tm) society was a world of gender equality and other nonsense)

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

I have! In different ways. For Grima stuff - the scenes where he's forced to eat his horse in My Land is Bare were just - I icked myself writing them. Degradation in general icks me and I always get in a weird headspace after writing it.

I have absolutely made myself cry writing bits of Thus Always. Particularly the death of Downey's father (that chapter has a banger of an ending line: So, in silence they look at one another, truly look at one another, for the first time in thirty years, and in silence Amos dies.) The eulogy appendix also gets me. Annnd this bit with Downey's mother:

Annette catches Downey at the door, squeezes his arm, says, ‘I never understood why you did what you did.’ ‘Why I left? Surely he told you the gory details.’ ‘No, no, I never understood why you chose to…to be like that. Did I do something wrong?’ Downey takes in her weeping eyes, her pain, her sorrow, the mad grief over things she has no words for, and he just shakes his head. Just shakes it and shakes it and shakes it.

the infamous "did I do something wrong and that is why you're a queer" conversation that many people have unfortunately had

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Something from a follow-up fic to Swimming Through Fire world. Two years after the war, a year after Grima and Éomer came to some vague Arrangement, and Éomer's off to go get married. Lucky him.

They're on their way to Umbar as I have Eomer marrying outside Gondor for reasons of regional political cohesion. Safan, everyone's favourite main man from the ROTK installment of the Swimming Through Fire series, makes an appearance.

---

Of course, Safan could have other sources, Gríma reasons. About Éomer. About what he is like as a man. Safan is talented, clearly capable, and trusted—therefore, he is likely to have heard his fill about the future king of Éomarc.

Who is currently standing towards the front of the boat watching the horizon dip up, down, and again again again.

No storm, but the sea roils. Gríma was told it’s the wind, a beautiful day for the voyage, but choppy. Hold fast. Do you know how to swim?

He told the sailor: I can hold my breath for two minutes.

The sailor laughed: that’s a start, I suppose.

No, no, I can swim. I’d just rather not.

Then hold fast.

So, he’s holding fast. He’s watching the water. The surf kicked up, foam white as the froth of churning milk. He thinks he wants to be sick.

What did he have to break his fast? Sweet buns, fruit, cheese. They dine light in the morning in Khephanto, same as they do in Éomarc. A welcomed change from other parts of Gondor where it is blood sausages and eggs and liver and salted fish and fried mushrooms piled high with toast and hot milk and gods the memory makes him more nauseous than he thought possible.

He tries to lean over the railing, thinking it would make sense to be sick into the ocean, but the thought of being so suspended over water—only his head, his shoulders and chest, but still—it sends him skittering away.

Foolish, of course, he survived the river Isen when he fell in. He survived Limlight more than once as a boy. He’d be fine until they fish him out.

Provided they fished him out.

Gríma finds Éomer again—still at the helm. Golden haired in the golden sun looking at ease despite the tumult.

They’d fish him out, Gríma thinks bleakly. Surely. Éomer would make them. Surely.

He wouldn’t be left to drown. Horrorhorrorhorror—how the chest burns and everything’s upside down and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and————

A bucket.

Gríma looks up, realizes his hands are on his knees and he’s shaking. Safan stands before him, holding the bucket.

‘Didn’t realize you’d be so sour stomached,’ Safan says.

Gríma wrenches the bucket from his hand, turns around, and is promptly sick into it. Somewhere, someone laughs. He’s certain it’s at him. He would care if he didn’t feel like his stomach wanted to crawl up his throat.

‘Just lean over the side,’ Safan suggests, all fatherly.

‘Can’t.’

‘Alright.’

‘This is horrible.’

‘You’ll get used to it.’

‘Inhuman.’

Safan laughs.

‘Truly,’ Gríma insists. He hugs the bucket of his bile. ‘Horrible. I’m going home by land. I don’t care if it takes me three months.’

Safan pats him on the shoulder, tells him that he’ll get used to it. It’s only another two and a half days—two if the wind holds. Gríma pulls an ugly face: two days! He doesn’t have enough in him to throw up for two days of travel. Safan shakes his head, pats his shoulder again, insists that Gríma will be fine.

‘Horizon,’ Safan points, ‘keep your eye on that and your stomach should settle.’

‘It’ll settle when I’m dead.’

‘I love your optimism, I’m sure your future king does too.’

Gríma makes no response, save to turn away from Safan and sick into the bucket a second time.

/

Early afternoon, still the first day, they’ve yet to have the blessing of crossing the small hours into daybreak, they’re not even at dusk, yet, and Éomer finds Gríma who has found a rope pile to sit on, with his bucket, trying to stare at the horizon.

‘I don’t know how you’re not ill, my lord,’ Gríma whines.

Éomer makes no reply. His eyes are also trained on where sky meets sea—a beautiful greying line if Gríma was in the mind to admire.

‘Perhaps you are sick as well,’ Gríma suggests.

Éomer shakes his head.

‘Assuredly,’ Gríma insists.

Éomer smiles, taught it stops half-up his face.

‘Knew it,’ Gríma mutters.

Éomer strides to the railing, leans over, and vomits. Gríma laughs. His future king makes no response. Gríma needles: ‘Would you like a bucket? The bucket is wisdom itself.’

‘I’m fine,’ Éomer replies, as if nothing occurred. ‘I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss.’ Slipping into the northern dialect of the Wold Éomer continues, ‘You’re not being very sympathetic for someone also suffering.’

‘My lord, you should know better than to come and roost upon my stoop in search of sympathy. It died in the womb. I might have eaten it.’

‘Along with your heart?’

‘To be sure. That shriveled, little thing.’

But his future lord-king is smiling, if not outright laughing, and Gríma doesn’t know how to stand in this moment. It’s been two years since the war—almost exactly. They’re just entering April, a fine month to travel in. It’s been fifteen months and a week since that first post-war winter yule when things between them became…sticky. Gríma isn’t sure how to term it, he isn’t sure there is a word for it. He is sure Éomer wouldn’t know and so has never made an effort to ask.

And what is there to ask about? Aside from Gríma’s commitment to burning down the entirety of the world should Éomer ask it of him. A bit of a rub, a bit rum, that the lord should instead ask him to create rather than destroy. Which is just like Éomer, to be contrary to Gríma’s desires whilst being, at the same time, precisely what is desired.

He thinks he might be sick into the bucket again.

‘Éothain told me about the creatures you’re concerned we’ll become victim to,’ Éomer says.

‘His investigations did little to assuage me. That said, their appearance could put me out of my misery, which is a boon.’

‘I think you’re over-reacting.’

Gríma turns away from Éomer, thinks he’s going to be sick, but it passes. He turns back around. On Éomer’s face is writ feint amusement. Gríma he thinks he should be sick on Éomer’s boots to make a point.

Some shuffling of feet as Éomer leans against the side of the boat to again stare at distant horizon as instructed by Safan. Gríma supposes he could try it, but doesn’t think standing wise at this precise moment.

‘Have you heard anything further?’ Éomer asks with a fantastical attempt at disinterest.

Gríma feigns confusion: ‘Further, my lord?’

‘About this—about Lady Dihya,’ he slides through her name in a chaotic fashion, it’s half Éothéod and half an approach to Umbar pronunciations. Good gods, Gríma cannot wait for them to meet if only to hear them butcher each other’s names in such a full-frontal fashion. ‘You were seen speaking with Safan.’

‘Safan and I are acquaintances of old.’

‘Shouting at each other over a wall proceeding a siege hardly makes one an acquaintance of old.’

‘Hardly a siege,’ Gríma scoffs. ‘Lord Aragorn lightly threatened them with ghosts and they saw reason and left.’

‘And the draugr.’

Gríma tilts his head skyward. Éomer follows suit asking if that brother of Gríma’s is around. Which brother would Éomer son of Éomund be asking after? Gods Gríma, the only brother who could possibly be present—the bog-drowned inhuman one that’s a crow half the time. It tried to peck the eyes out of a Meduseld mouser the other day. Hasn’t Gríma taught it manners, yet?

‘Baldir was never keen on following orders,’ Gríma replies tartly. ‘It is hardly my fault he is enacting the behaviours of his kind, now that he is what he is. He’s not eating people or horses. Nor goats, cows, hounds, most cats, and other such important creatures. I cannot vouch for poultry or hares. And no, he’s not around. I told him to fuck off back home before we left.’

Éomer mouths: fuck off back home with some mild astonishment. Gríma gives a desultory look: what?

Éomer tries another question, ‘Did Safan tell you anything useful? Are there things I should avoid saying or doing?’

‘I am not here,’ Gríma holds up a hand, turns away and vomits into the bucket. It’s all bile, at this point. He tried drinking water with ginger in it, recommended by Éothain, but it came to naught. He wipes his mouth, pushes hair out of his face, turns back around to Éomer. ‘I am not here in an advisory capacity. As I told Safan, I don’t know why I’m here. I hardly expected it.’

‘My uncle,’ Éomer glances at the men around them—all Haradrim or Gondorian, the Éothéod are generally seasick and showing it. He continues in the Wold dialect: ‘My uncle took you aside before we left. Éothain and Gundahar both saw it occur. You spoke for a good space of time, what did he say?’

‘Oh, that. He was telling me to mind myself and not get into trouble. That the first whiff of anything suspicious he’ll know whose door to knock at. As if I haven’t learned my lesson! truly I wish people understood that. I make mistakes, the lords know, but I tend not to make the same ones twice.’

Éomer, to his credit, does not believe Gríma—at least about the not knowing what his role is. Gríma hopes he believes him about lessons learned. He had assumed Éomer did—few others, but at least Éomer. Hama would believe him, if he were alive. This thought does a strangeness to Gríma’s chest, an emotion he is learning to name regret. He rarely feels it, if ever, but with Hama yes, it rears its ugly head.  

Gríma sometimes wonders what the percentage is that Éomer believes. Is it fifty per cent of what Gríma says? Eighty? Twenty? Or entirely situational? Probably entirely situational. Probably Gríma doesn’t want to know.

‘Surely you’ve been briefed,’ Gríma says into a long stretched silence.

‘Of course I have.’

‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’

Éomer gives him such a statement with his expression and Gríma would laugh if it were appropriate. Instead of saying: horseshit and you know it, Éomer replies: ‘For the sake of relations between countries I want to make a good impression. My uncle said he trusted me to represent Éomarc.’

‘I should hope so, as future king yourself you’re the embodiment of our people and our land.’

Grating, grating, grating—Éomer paces this through. Gríma wants to say what he always thinks in these situations, that Éomer is the better option to Théodred. One represents Éomarc more wholly and entirely than the other. Théodred was nice. Théodred would have tried. He would have done what he thought was the best. Gríma knows better than to sneer those sentiments aloud to the cousin and inheritor who sometimes goes morose and burrows into himself when the former heir is mentioned. The man who Éomer idolized, to some degree, and who did not live long enough to shatter those illusions.

Well, well, that is Éomer, sitting in the sun comparing himself to dead heroes who cannot be faulted in anything because they are dead.

Another wave of nausea comes, Gríma waits to need the bucket, but it passes. How is it so warm? It’s April, it should be the perfect temperature at all times.

-

‘A rat with a bucket,’ cheerfully calls a voice.

Gríma puts on a flattering smile, ‘my lady, it gladdens my heart to know you are not similarly afflicted.’

‘Not a whit.’

‘Truly,’ Éomer asks. ‘I can’t believe that.’

‘Sorry, brother, but alas that is the case.’ Éowyn does not sound entirely sympathetic. She then glances between them and to her brother asks: ‘What conference have you with Wyrmtunga?’

‘Trying to get information out of him about what we can expect. He chatted with Lord Safan last night.’

‘My how we’ve resurrected ourselves,’ Éowyn sneers at Gríma who continues, with great effort, to appear cheerfully nonplussed but gods gods gods he wants to be sick again. He knows he must be green about the gills for how she laughs. ‘Uncle said you were to behave.’

‘I am, on my honour.’ Gríma adds, ‘on the life of Stigr.’

‘Not nothing,’ Éowyn owns. ‘How do you know lord Safan? He seems above your station and rank, now that you are nothing in particular.’

‘The war.’

‘They shouted pleasantries at each other over the walls of Pelargir,’ Éomer explains, ‘before Aragorn reminded everyone time was of the essence.’

‘Lord Aragorn was just as party to the pleasantries, my lord.’

Éowyn’s keen eyes, sharp as knives, slice from brother to Gríma and Gríma knows a dissection is occurring, there will be a result from it, but it will not be accurate. He knows where her assumptions will lead her, and he is right when she asks: ‘Did you know him through Saruman?’

‘No, my lady, I never met him save that day during the war. I had assumed he died, until he showed up as ambassador.’ He adds, half-afterthought and undertone, ‘not everything is a conspiracy.’

‘I hear she likes hunting,’ Éowyn tells her brother, ignoring Gríma’s reply. ‘Stalking and the like. Talk to her about that and you’ll be safe.’

‘What else did you hear?’

‘Books—histories about seafaring voyages and distant battles, also political machinations. But she is not adverse to the occasional bout of poetry. Recite her something pretty about nature, I heard. She’s partial to birds and fish, also long descriptions of sand dunes which are, apparently, beautiful.’

‘I see.’

‘I’m doubtful too,’ Éowyn agrees. ‘But having never seen one, we could be wrong. Her favourite colour is red and her favourite metal is copper.’

‘See,’ Éomer snaps at Gríma, ‘this is useful information I can do something with.’

Gríma levers himself upright, a dangerous decision for it sets his stomach on edge again, bidding a well-rehearsed and beautiful good-day to them he stalks across the ship towards the prow. He read a book about ships while in Minas Tirith and tried to memorize all their bits and pieces. This is a long, round nosed, shallow bottomed galley. Predominantly used for trade and moving passengers and animals. Gríma marks the three masts, the place for the oarsmen, though as they’re “with the wind” it's just sail work.

In the stern is the—he blanks on the term—but it’s a built-up structure where captain and important guests stay in relative comfort. Everyone else gets shoved below deck with the lice and livestock.

Castle! That’s what the structure is called. A castle.

Daft name.

Or maybe not, he doesn’t know anything about ocean-going vessels. They must be defended, especially merchant fleets, so perhaps castle is apt. Defending the keep, except it’s your boat.

Nearing the prow Gríma grips the railing and stares forward. Fresh sea air helps keep stomach in check. By the time the breeze gets to the back where he had hidden himself there was nothing much left to it. Knuckles whiten as his hands twist on the wood. Well waxed, there are no splinters, but he can feel its course nature against skin. A grounding experience. He sucks in a breath, holds, exhales.

Marvelous, he tells himself, it’s all marvelous. His still being alive and in one piece, mostly. Also this. Boats, oceans, skies, new lands, languages, the many and varied people present in the world. Oh, no, not distracting enough, he leans forward, is sick into the water as he gets hit with ocean spray.

Well, he thinks as he wipes salt water off, at least he knows his face is clean.

[towritecomicsonherarms]

Marks the voice acting debut of Seth Rogen in a theatrical movie. Later he went on to voice Hoqsueal in The Spiderwick Chronicles (2008), Morton the Mouse in Horton Hears a Who! (2008), Mantis in the Kung Fu Panda film franchise, B.O.B. in Monsters vs. Aliens (2009), the title character of Paul (2011), Frank the Talking Sausage in Sausage Party (2016), Pumbaa the Warthog in The Lion King (2019), Bob the Dwarf Viking in Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers (2022), Donkey Kong in The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023), Bebop in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem (2023), and Jackson Morris in B.O.O.: Bureau of Otherworldly Operations.

[lichenbite]

ghosts characters who smell weird

fanny: smells like perfume but in a way like it's been on her all day and is starting to wear off and underneath it she smells like day 3 leggings

captain: smells like the jorvik viking centre. anyone who's been will know exactly what I mean

thomas: metal and damp dirt and sweat because mans literally had to be mopped down after his poetry recital. kinda smells like a handful of pennies

robin: wet dog and raw sausage

plague ghosts: nose piercing smell

maddocks: roadkill and mince

[yoshiintheweb]

Empires SMP settlements as Archeological sites according to me, your local archeology student.

Over all notes.

-According to Sausage (his first episode), Empires 2 is set over a 1000 years after Empires 1. So all of my headcanons will be based mostly on early medieval period knows also as The Viking Age in terms of preservation - real life equivalent of "over a 1000 years ago".

-Archeological findings are very depending on the place they are in, and the type of settlements.

-That being said, I assume that most of empires from season 1 would be considered a city state, similar to poleis of ancient Greece.

-On that note, even if it's not active part of Minecraft itself, i will make a series of headcanons including: Pottery bc pottery is one of the most common findings, graveyards if needed, the characteristics of the biomes that are not part of Minecraft and probably something more that i forgot

-I assume that the water level after the drain get to normal in the years that follows, bc if we assume that Empires has similar climate to our owns, it would go up over that 1000+ years anyways.

The Cod Empire

- it would be by now a bunch of stakes sticking from the bottom of the shore, bc it was mostly made out of wood and wood will not survive this long if left on free air for long.

-Everything made out of stone will hold, turn into ruins over time. Looking at the area that once was The Cod Empire you can see a rock structure, a ruin that once was used as a Church of some sorts maybe meeting hall? Maybe both, noe one knows for sure.

-It was on swamp tho, and if there was peat bog anywhere everything that goes in it, will survive that amount of time, longer even, wood, maybe fabrics, it's perfect condition to preserve dead bodies too, we are talking skin, hair and organs intact way. Tho it's not always the case, and bones are a different story bc peat is pretty acidity which is not good for them.

-There might be a bit of a chance that some buildings survived if it was swollen by the swamp (peat bog again, it's just that good shit). It will not look pretty but the shape will hold (probably).

-Archeological dig in Cod Empire would take years if not a decade+. It's not bc how big Cod Empire was, but how many thing was preserved by the peat bog. And the peat bog is still a peat bog so it's difficult to work with.

-I imagine Pottery from Cod Empires as handmade. Very simple, thick, wonky probably a bit asymmetrical. It might be just plain but it also might be decorated with cuts and print of various things (ropes and shit probably). There's also a lot of dishes made out of wood, in shapes and decoration that looks the same.

-Fun fact, if Minecraft had butter, it would survive too. Peak bog, everybody.

-Bc of it's location, Cod Empire might be the best preserved empire from them all. Gods bless the peak bog in it's wet, sticky and no oxygen policy glory.

It might get part two idk if i will jave the mental power to do so tho

[caracuuw]

More VikingPilot propaganda. Let’s make a deal. I give you: Dominion!Viking headcanons. You give me: Your vote for Viking in the mcytblr sexyman polls.

I give my Viking design a multicolored tongue to match the rest of his color scheme, but it doesn’t end there. All the rest of his insides (do ghosts have internal organs? doesn’t matter) are also blue and gold

Viking is 6’4” irl but has been assigned short by fandom, so my solution to this? His height can change based on how he’s feeling, and how intimidating he wants to be.

Building on that, I like to think that he can change the proportions of his individual limbs at will, stretching out his arms and twisting his torso in ways that should not be possible. Gotta lean into those animated ghost/beetlejuice vibes as much as I can!

If you were to shine a light on Viking in the dark, his eyes would glow like a cat’s

Sometimes, when Viking laughs like that, or, even more so when he uses the swear bleep button, his form ‘glitches’ and goes a bit wonky. The more unhinged or upset he is, the worse his form ‘glitches’.

When Viking is phantomized, or when he’s using the voice, his voice has an empty, echoey property to it. What I have in mind makes me think of wind chimes and an overcast, windy day.

I headcanon Viking as a custom.. species? I guess? It’s more of a condition, something that a person becomes— called a chromatic aberration. Basically, sometimes, when a player has an encounter with very intense and usually somewhat uncontrolled magic, that magic alters their form. Parts of their body become tinted in certain colors, mostly commonly the ends of the ears, fingertips, and irises, but chromatic aberration can affect any part of one’s body. Some other characters I also headcanon as chromatic aberrations are dsmp!Karl, Empires s2!Scott and, though not at the beginning, eventually s2!Sausage as well, and Edwin from Fixxiverse.

[70snasagay]

HOW WAS UR DAY VIKING 🗣

TWAS LOVELY i got to spend time with my cousins (toddlers) which is great until it suddenly isn't because toddlers = loud and annoying with no sense of personal space

also since this is hungary we went to a town thingy where *everyone* was selling sausages and cabbidge and all that jazz because it's pig season

[wikagirl]

ALLRIGHT HERE'S THE ANNOTOPIA POST!!

First off we've got day 1. I hopped out of bed at 9:30 and got ready and we rolled out at around 11 with my bff being the driver

We did our initial tour of the festival grounds to see where everything is this year around, had some good old curry sausage for lunch and then watched the opening parade at 2pm which you can see on the following pictures

and after we went out little aesthetic walkie walk, we spent the most of our time in the post apocalypse camps, they had a really cool punk rock stage show there going on and also (most importantly) a slushie booth

and then we did some chilling and tomfoolery at the pond of the park. My bff took some cute pics of me there, I also took some cute ones of her but she wants me to cover up her face if I post them but I think that ruins the pictures so youi'll just have to imagine my cottage core sweetie princess in your little heads uwu.

and with that we ended day 1 because I had to be home in time for raid night.

On day 2 I drove and we all went in a more casual look so I didn't bother with a fit check, we also spent most of our day actually spending money there and taking less pictures so there aren't that many. Basicly we arrived at around 2pm after we picked up our buddy who some of you know as hiyuu shiyuu from my ffxiv fc and raid posts.

We did our tour of all of the shops, got hiyuu a cute top and a hat, my bff got herself a set of runestones, a tarot deck and some jewelry. about 3/4 of the way around the market place we got to witness this scene

caused by the dark lord (the poor bastard in a full black plated metal armor in 32°C summer heat) accusing jack sparrow of owing him money, followed by the vikings, the pirates and the post apocalypse running in to help jack, only to instantly get knocked down by an earthshaker spell.

Once we were done shopping we all got ourselves a slushie, chilled by the lake again and then went to our traditional dinner at mcdonalds in full fantasy get up.

Here is my loot from this years festival:

I got myself a set of snake themed runestones and a little fairy bunny from a shop called AnnkasAnderwelt on instagram and these two sword-hairpins from a nother shop that I didn't get the name of sadly.

The runestones are made from resin and some of them have real snakeskin (from natural shedding, no snakes were harmed in the making of these) and pages from what I believe to be the german classic the golden pot in them (the book features a character called serpentina who can turn into an emerald snake).

The runestone set also came with a pendulum, a pentacle charm and this random wooden stick....yeah I'm not sure what the stick is for so I have it to Fluffels (the bunny, his full name Sir Fluffles McFluffington the Wolpertinger) as a chew toy.

and i got this black canvas two piece

the grey pattern is hand printed on with these lenoium shingles that you have to handcarve, roll the paint on and then stick it on the fabric, according to the shop owner they were going for a pagan witch meets viking fantasy kind of vibe and I guess it checks out. I'm not sure if I'll ever use this for any larp character but I for sure will wear this at home, it's super comfy.

Also eveyone please apreciate my one again random pile of stuff behind me. I have offically given up on not having a pile on the guest bed so it is what it is now. Right now it's just all my larp stuff that doesn't need to be washed but still needs to be put away or have some other kind of maintainance done on it.

My bff is thinking about going post apocalyse next year, I'm not so sure what I'll do or if I can even make it next year because of my apprenticeship but I guess we'll see.

[trivialbob]

For today’s Vikings/Packers game, I made an amateur charcuterie board. The meats are actually pretty decent, from Trader Joe’s, not Oscar Meyer bologna. The peppers and olives are from a nicer grocery store’s olive bar. Cheddar cheese is Trader Joe’s, the Swiss is Sargento. Ritz crackers round out the ingredients.

It covers my ancient, beat-up, plastic cutting board which I think came from Ikea. Clearly, my effort is geared toward ease of preparation and modest cost over fancy presentation.

This one has more ingredients than “charcuterie” I would make when Matt and Jack were little. We’d have Snackapalooza and watch a movie. It’s more fun with a catchy name. Even more fun for me when one of the boys would tell me I don’t have to repeat Snackapalooza so often or say it with a silly voice.

Snackapalooza was a paper plate covered with Johnsonville summer sausage, sliced cheddar cheese, and Ritz crackers. The dogs we had at the time would always be very excited for Snackapalooza. We always had enough to share. I think they even knew what was coming when I shouted Snackapalooza.

As I’m watching the football game I’ve been online. Later this month a local brewery is hosting a charcuterie class. It sounds fun. There would obviously be beer involved. But it’s $75. I’m not sure I want it that badly, even when it includes taking home the board. There are probably some good YouTube videos I could watch.

Or I should read this book Sheila just got. There are some pretty interesting ideas in it.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Today's harvest.

Two giant bowls of purple viking potatoes and a few red bliss potatoes.

A bowl of green cantare beans.

A bowl of pineapple, orange hat, yellow pear, and cream sausage tomatoes, and a mystery red cherry tomato from a seed mix up.

Two flat white boer pumpkins.

[cheeselord1234five]

Rewatching the first How to Train Your Dragon movie and I have a few thoughts while watching. It says Berk is 7 generations old which is about 200 years but in the series they celebrate Berk being 400 years old? Gobber is so sweet, and when he says “stop trying to be something your not” he really meant it and his character is so cool. Why did Stoic’s dad tell Stoic to bang his head against a rock? How big was this rock? Was he wearing his helmet? HOW DID IT SPLIT IN TWO? The music is soo good. 😭 Does Toothless know Hiccup crippled him? Lol overgrown sausage. “Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about?” Why don’t we see any timber jacks? Just now getting the “love on the battlefield” joke In the movie Gobber says a dragon ate his arm and leg, but in the series, he mentions that his mom cut them off because he got sick…😬 why do dragons hate eels so much? When Stoic comes back from his voyage, he thinks Hiccup is dead because Gobber says “your parenting troubles are over” and other citizens said similar things such as “no one will miss that old nuisance” “out with the old in with the new” and Stoic is just standing there like “he’s gone??” Then once gobber says “most afternoons” you can see the relief in Stoics eyes. I don’t care who says he’s not a caring parent, HE CARES. I love terrible terrors, they’re so cute. And how after Hiccup feeds one, it just sits in his lap. IM DYING. Stoic gave Hiccup a bra hat… does that door in the main hall never shut or something? “They’ve killed hundreds of us” “and we’ve killed thousands of them!” I just thought of sharks lol. Poor Stoic, he had to yell at his son for protecting an innocent dragon, you can see the disappointment and sadness in his face after he leaves that room. FIX THAT STUPID DOOR IT CANT SHUT WITHOUT BOUNCING OPEN!! I still think it’s hilarious how Astrid says Hiccup is the first Viking to ride a dragon, but his mom totally did it first. I love Snotlout’s character in the first movie, he’s just a cute, awkward dork. Is the Red Death related to the Bewilderbeast? They have the same color scheme and build. I can tell the Zippleback heads apart based on their horns. “I would never kill a dragon!” Proceeds to painfully blow up the red death. Hiccup’s leg had to have been SO sore when he woke up. If it snows nine months of the year and hails the other three, why is it always green and clear? Lol the dragons look like their riders. THEY PUT A BABY GUSTAV IN THE CREDITS!!

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Now that things have chilled here.

Renn faire steddie.

Eddie geeking out over EVERYTHING.

Steve dressing up with him as something.

Eddie's outfit then tight side of snug over his comfortable frame.

Steve sneak buying him things he has his eye on at the faire like a fancy ring or a knife.

Eddie getting steve something "I want you to have something that reminds you of me"

And of course faire food, turkey legs, roasted corn, fried desserts.

🍊

Hello love 🍊,

Eddie would be absolutely INSUFFERABLE at a Renn Faire and I'm completely here for it.

He'd be decked out in an elaborate costume with like a sword or a magic staff and everything. He probably has a D&D character he never gets to play so he larps as him for the faire.

Steve getting Eddie another ring is perfect. (Sidebar Eddie gives Steve one of his rings but since it's too big he gives him a chain to wear it on as a necklace 🥰). Eddie would try to find the most practical thing to give Steve, because he would want to be able to see him use it or wear it and not feel embarrassed.

And yessss so much mead, turkey, corn, sausages, fried dough.

Also you know how they have those rides that are like just human propelled? Eddie sort of bashfully trying to tell Steve he doesn't "feel" like doing the barrel one or the Viking ship, only for the guy running it to be like "Kid, look at me, I'm the size of a barge. I've gotten this thing moving with guys plenty bigger than you. Hop in with your little normie boyfriend and have a good time."

[cyclone-rachel]

Notes on The Boys

Season 3 episode 3

so how old is Starlight now, if this was 17 years ago? maybe like 27? okay well her actress is 27 in real life, that tracks

her costume hasn’t changed a bit

poor girl

you’re not being persecuted, Homelander

where’s the Rust Belt?

is he getting off on compliments

is Butcher okay?

thank you for respecting Kimiko

jacking off with razors again?

Butcher is very much enjoying himself here

Hughie no

“The Bold and the Batshit” would be an excellent alternate title for this show

I really like Silver Kincaid, I hope we see her again

so here for Starlight taking charge

it’ll be interesting to see more of this Frenchie storyline

Aw

Oh that’s smart

still such a dumb costume

He’s back too, I see

Kimiko bonding with Ryan, we love to see it

My poor girl

of course it’d be Reagan

young Grace can get it

is this real history

this is a good song

wait is that their theme song

oh don’t worry, we know

so who are the TNT twins supposed to be like?

it’s really interesting that in the comics, Tek-Knight is a member of Payback, and he’s supposed to be this Iron Man/Batman knock-off, but here they’ve replaced him with Noir, who is also kind of a Batman knock-off, mixed with Conner Kent Superboy in the comics

young Stan can get it too

oh, so they were called Vought American

he could talk!

premier superhero team, huh?

oooooh, so this is a Blue Marvel in-universe, Ferro Lad out of universe situation, huh

big yikes

I can’t believe he just stopped that flashback

She does not love it

You don’t get to use that against her

I want to hope he’s not full of shit anymore

Fuck you, my dude

Who watches live TV anymore?

you are terrifying

“that little cousin-fucker hick town that Maeve’s from” yikes

also where is she actually from?

get a job, stay away from her, you big bitch

you literally said that as you were jacking yourself off

oh, does he have a mural of Poseidon in his room?

How long has it been since Butcher took the temporary V?

Poor girl’s at the end of her rope

He has a point

You have no excuse

again, feels weird for a kid to say that

oh no, how much does ryan know

oof

so what really happened there?

ooooooh nooooo

nothing says there can’t be more than one person being black noir, like one or more people wearing that costume over time

Is she lying?

poor Ryan

eyyyyy it’s the viking lady from season 3 of Legends

then what shit do you do?

I recognize that name

Homelander is SUCH an asshole

sure you have

you’re really mixing up your stories there

Like what?

is he really

eat the fucking octopus

can you really eat an octopus while it’s still alive

how does butcher know who she is

they’re going to Russia!

with that combined with the next episode’s title, does this mean we’ll see another version of Love Sausage

exactly what my reaction would be

surprised he even knows spanish

I hope we see both Moonshadow and Silver Kincaid being pissed at these results

shut up, Homelander

did he or did he not do the exact same shit to Maeve back in the day

Aaaaaand now he’s going to be presented to the media as falling for the right woman

wait, shit, didn’t the soldier boy propaganda film thing describe him as having found “the love of a good woman”, aka crimson countess, at some point? that’s gonna be an interesting parallel thing, especially if they reunite

also it may not end well

this is going to be a complicated situation

And that is a dumb ship name

God, it’s like Superman kissing Supergirl, it’s weird

[middleagerunblog]

XLIV.

Yesterday was the second of three prep races, a 10K this time, the Viking 5K, 10K & Half Marathon in DeBary, FL.

It was a small race, only 28 participants, I was one of 8 doing the 10K, only 2 were doing the half, the rest were doing the 5K. I don't see the results posted yet, but based on what I could tell, I likely finished 1st or 2nd place of the 10K participants. This isn't saying much as of the other 7 doing the 10K, only 4 were men, 2 of whom were older than me, 1 my age, 1 younger.

But I wasn't going for time per se, that is, if I can do an 8 min/mi pace 5K and am shooting for a 9 min/mi half marathon, I probably ought to be able to do an 8:30 min/mi 10K.

Instead, I wanted to practice my pacing strategy, or at least practice my build up to pacing strategy. So I was aiming for mile 1 at 10 min/mi, 2 at 9:30, 3 at 9, 4 at 8:30, 5 at 8, and if I could muster it, 6 and the final 0.2 at 7:30. That'd put me at exactly 54 min, or 8:43 pace, as opposed to the 52:42 total of an 8:30 pace.

It was cold, and the race start was a little disorganized and a little late. I opted to wear a long sleeve shirt over my favorite running shirt, which was great before the race started but a decision I regretted about a half a mile in. The race start was a quiet corner of some Volusia county park. I could have easily worn a hoodie and a beanie waiting for the race to start then left them on a picnic table, and they probably would have been fine. I ought to keep this in mind for future small races in cold weather.

The course was out and back for 5K, out and back twice for 10K (slightly further out and back four times for the 2 lonely souls doing the half). I was surrounded by 5Kers and that likely caused me to go out faster than my plan. I tried to slow down to 10 min/mi pace, but it just felt too slow. I ended up doing mile 1 at 9:29.

Rather than just chalk this up as a 30 sec win on mile 1 and continue with my planned splits, I felt it more important to practice the strategy of slightly increasing each mile. I overshot mile 2 and did it in 8:48.

Did mile 3 in 8:28, so another overshot. Mile 4 was 8:12, only 18 sec faster than the original plan. But I thought this was great, I was still increasing every mile.

Mile 5 and mile 6 were slower than my plan though.

Miile 5 was 8:11, so just barely keeping negative splits through 5, and still way ahead of the total planned place, but 11 sec behind the plan for mile 5 itself.

Mile 6 was 8:28, not for lack of trying but I just couldn't muster one more negative split. So I did this mile nearly a full min behind the plan, but I was far enough ahead of the original plan that I could afford the 58 sec.

My running playlist didn't sync correctly to my Apple Watch, this happens for time to time, I ought to make sure to plan far enough ahead on this for future races. I was fiddling with music on mile 6, trying to get faster BPM songs to keep me motivated, that this likely cost me more time (messing up my stride) than it was worth.

I rallied for the final 0.2, doing it in 1:29, which pretty much on the 7:30 pace, so I did finish strong. Final time was 53:08, 8:37 pace, not that far away from an 52:42, 8:30 pace. Maybe I should have kept better track of the math and pushed for that time over that tough last mile, but I'm sort of OK with my result.

I crossed the finish line to little fanfare. Someone took my picture, someone else handing me a Viking medal which I gave to my daughter when I got home.

I came home, started another pot of coffee, heated up olive oil on a large pan, threw in a handful of spinach, sliced 2 Adiells chicken sausages and added that to the pan and covered it, sprayed Pam on a smaller pan, cracked 2 eggs into it, broke their yokes with a spatula, sprinkled on some bagel season with jalapeno, took of the lid to the other pan and sprinkled some on there to, mixed and recovered, toasted 2 slices of Dave's Killer Bread, spread chunky guacamole on the toast when it was done, plated the toast, the chicken sausage with spinach next to the toast, put the eggs on top of the chicken sausage, shook on some shredded cheese, poured myself a large mug of coffee, then devoured everything.

[caracuuw]

OKAY I finally finished watching through all of the Fixxiverse so far as well as Fix’s Dominion POV and.

Hey. Um. Hey.

Anyways have some disorganized rambles about it that are in no way chronological and I just wrote them down as I thought about them because. I have emotions. About it all. And nobody in particular to share them with. Spoilers ahead!

Hhhhh okay. Where to start? Alright, okay, well, first off. I lost my mind at Sausage’s cameo. I was not at all expecting it and so it hit me like a train and it was so funny. I just. God. That was so good.

Like. Damn. Sausage and Bubbles are canon to the Fixxiverse O_o

I really love that the zombie apocalypse episode was the first in the series, I felt like it was such a great start that made everything else really feel like a very natural progression of the series, what with starting with an unnamed protagonist and then starting to make more and more characters as fit, you know?

Speaking of the unnamed protagonist of the zombie apocalypse. I miss him and I home we see more of him in the future.

The slow realization of, not only everything being connected in some way, but also just how connected it all is- it’s just. It really shows the love and care put into the series. No stone is left unturned there.

Fixxiverse!Grady D:

Seriously though I loooovvveee fv!Grady so much hearts floating around my head around his head hearts come into my vision whenever he’s on screen lying on my stomach kicking my legs in the air etc etc he’s sooooooo

Cal

Just. Cal. You know.

I already said it in some tags a bit back lol but Cal is to me what Grumbot is to some Hermitcraft fans

I can’t really choose a favorite character because I would just end up listing all of them but if I had to name a few that really stood out to me in terms of how excited I got any time I heard them speak, I really loved fv!Grady, Captain Dohan, The Oracle, and Fred

Okay listen. I watched Dominion in this order: Legundo, Viking, Nuke, and then Fix. When I first saw The Oracle in Nuke’s perspective, I was like ‘oh, this is a neat and mysterious character, I wonder where they take this’ (and also like SCOTT SMAJOR????), so when The Oracle showed up in Fix’s POV, then when I pivoted to Fixxiverse and he showed up there (and I learned who he was more), and THEN when he showed back up again in the rest of Fix’s Dominion POV. Listen. I just. I have grown to love The Oracle a lot.

Also I wonder; is Dominion directly tied to the Fixxiverse? Is anything with Fix in it tied to the Fixxiverse? Or is The Oracle a bit more like a being that could show up anywhere? Is it a bit more like the Hermatrix, where literally all Minecraft worlds are in the same multiverse? (Could Legundo’s Hardcore Multiverse be tied to it all as well? I doubt it, but I don’t have the brainpower to pull that apart right now…)

I’m genuinely impressed with how well Fix pulls of having a fairly large cast of different characters in the Fixxiverse, which is primarily a single player series, and he played most of said character at some point. That is not an easy task to pull off.

Fix’s Dominion musical episode was soooooo. I just. God.

Welsknight cameo FUCK YEAH :D

Fix’s megabase on Dominion s1. Jfc dude. It’s so amazing, seriously. If nothing else, you should watch his POV just to see it.

Both of his main bases, actually. They are both so god damn impressive.

Also, all of Fix’s builds in the Fixxiverse, but especially in the main hardcore (and now survival) one are so gorgeous. I am actually in love with his building style, it’s so pretty, and the scale of it all is amazing.

His custom textures too! I know they’re such a small thing, but I love them so much. I love the creativity that goes into some of them, changing the textures to use them in ways that just. It changes the vibe completely from if it were the vanilla textures, but they all still fit. In fact, they arguably fit better because of the texture changes.

I loved his ‘confession room’ bit on Dominion, especially in his final episode of s1 with Sneve. That was really funny.

Dominion!Fix is a super interesting character to me. I feel like he’s just so well played, but I can’t quite put into words all my thoughts about him. He’s like. He’s a thief. He’s a trickster. He runs from the consequences of his actions. He’s just a little guy c’mon he’s just a little guy. He wants so badly to be a good person. He has no moral backbone. He cares deeply about other people’s wellbeing. He’s The Oracle’s favorite little fella, and god he really wants to be a good person but god dammit old habits die hard and no matter how hard he tries he just keeps on falling back down, even when he knows, he knows that if he does, he will release something beyond anything any of them are remotely prepared to handle, and he knew, he was warned, he was warned, but it still didn’t matter, because he cannot escape the person he believes, he knows he is deep down, and that will always be his downfall- he’s just some little bug dude.

I also adore whenever Fix talks about his family in his videos. Like, genuinely, it’s so sweet and makes me feel all warm inside every time he does

I need you all to know how happy it makes my silly little autistic brain every time he talks about music I loooovvve it when people talk about music :)))))

I definitely have more that I’ll probably remember later but honestly, I don’t want to spend any more time on this post so this is what you get lol

TLDR; Watch Fixxiverse and Fixxitt’s Dominion SMP POV :D