Jugglingbayonets - Courage The Cowardly Dog

I know your probably not running it anymore but i was wondering if i could join

By the way, attention all DND nerds without a campaign!

You should totally get Wildermyth and I will post screenshots why as I further spiral into hyperfixation.

It's really good though and there are free mods.

obsessed with whatever the hell these three have going on

Today's Menu; 𝘓𝘢𝘬𝘴𝘢

⇆ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ㅤ ▷ㅤ↻

Rengoku Kyojuro is a patience young boy. He took pride in that small bit of him because he was aware of how much damages could be done when your emotions were left unchecked. He was patience when it comes to completing his training, patience when it comes to taking care of his little brother and certainly patience when it comes to deal with his father.

But he, just like other normal human beings, had his own limits too.

Kyojuro couldn't helped but to glower down on the waste of food in the trash can -- the food that he and Senjuro had cooked for their dear father. Among the food, scattering around were pieces of papers, one that he recognized its origins based on the writings he could detect from tbe pieces. The food and letters he and Senjuro had made for their dear father. For their father's birthday. Senjuro, bless that small boy, had been nothing but excited and skipping in his steps when he walked around the market with Kyojuro to find the food's ingredients, blabbering on whether their father would like the meal they made for him or not. Senjuro was so excited to show how much progress he had made in writing kanji that he kept redoing the letters all day before.

The least their father could've done would be keeping the letters if he found the food to be inedible for him.

Kyojuro lose the appetite to make himself a dinner, plopping his sheathed sword on the table as he hurried to tie the plastic from the trash can to be put outside before Senjuro could see the fills in it. He wouldn't want his little brother to cry another endless of tears with the lack of love from their father. He kept his hands clenched, keeping down the boiling rage inside him as he walked passed his father's bedroom.

The urge to burst in and scream at the old man was tempting, but Kyojuro knew nothing would be gained through reckless anger.

Yet, even after he finished with putting out the trash and scrubbing his hands clean, he still couldn't sit tight or calm himself. His uniform was dirty from the last mission he just finished. He should take a bath. But he stood there alone in the kitchen, hands still clenching tight. With a huff, Kyojuro placed back his sword into his belt and left the estate to take a walk outside. Danger be damned, if he couldn't tone down his anger, he would be the most dangerous one around lurking in the night. He walked and walked, mind somewhere else, letting his feet to take the lead.

Kyojuro tilted his head up to the sky, pressing his lips. Oh, what would his mother thought of the family situation now? Her absence had a great effect, but his father acted like he was the only one who suffered the most. By God, Kyojuro and Senjuro lost their own mother that day, Senjuro couldn't even remembered how she looked like! They could still lived like it was another normal day, but why couldn't their father did the same? Why couldn't their father be strong enough? Why did it have to be Kyojuro who had to lighten up the household and carried on the responsibility?

He was so tired. He just turned 16 years old last month, give him a break.

Kyojuro stopped walking, his mind snapped back to reality as a new scent stirred in the air. His stomach growled once he recognized the smell to be of a food, alerting him that he had not eaten anything since finishing his mission. Which stall opened at late night near the forest? Maybe it was a demon's trick. With that in mind, he grasped on the hilt of his sword, eyes darting around for any signs of dangers as he continued to walk closer to where the smell would be.

Standing in front of him now was a building, the sign outside introduced him that it was a restaurant. A restaurant in the middle of nowhere? How very suspicious. Kyojuro approached the building and noticed a small whiteboard sign propped near the entrance.

☞ 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧

☞ 𝘞𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯

☞ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴!

☞ 𝘈𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥

Huh, he never seen such rules before in any food selling places he went to. Looking at the structure of the building, it seemed to be newly built and recently opened. Still suspicious though, why would anyone want to build a restaurant away from the public eyes? The sounds of footsteps coming from the inside caused him to jump in surprise, and peeking out through the entrance was a woman.

She didn't looked Japanese, perhaps a foreigner. The woman noticed Kyojuro standing outside and blinked at him. She stared at him for a good couple of seconds before standing straight, adjusting her headscarf and smiled.

" It's a bit late for you to be out. Would you like to come in for something to eat? "

Kyojuro would have rejected the invitation if it wasn't for his stomach growling louder than before, drawing in the awkwardness and embarrassment in him. The woman tilted her head, her smile seemed amused now. Defeated, Kyojuro covered his red ears with his hair and looked down on his clothes.

" I apologize for my state of clothing. I didn't even know there was a restaurant around here. "

" Do you have blood on them? "

Kyojuro squinted his eyes a little. " I hope not. "

" Hmm, good enough for me. Wash your hands and feet first before coming in. "

The woman disappeared inside the building, leaving Kyojuro to decide what to do. He wished he had bathed first before taking a walk. Dusting off the dirt from his clothes, he took off his footwear and cleaned his hands and feet.

___________

The inside of the building was much more fascinating that he thought it would be. The lights were bright, clean tables and chairs neatly in their positions and the plants inside made the place looked more lively. He was so busy looking around the facility he didn't realized the woman had placed his order in front of him, as well as his drink. He wasn't sure what to order, so he opted for a noddle meal, in which the woman nodded and told him she had something for him.

The broth looked heavenly thick, white noddles filling in every corner of the bowl, green vegetables and onions in the soup made it looked fresh and the boiled egg and shrimps popping out in between the noodles seemed to glint under the light. It was the same scent he smelled before -- filled with richness and spiciness that smelled so good even before his tongue could taste it first. It was beautiful.

" You're drooling. " The woman offered him chopsticks, seemingly pleased that her cooking looked good. " If you want to use spoon or fork, I'll get them for you. "

Kyojuro smiled back, reaching for the chopsticks. " Thank you for the food. " Careful not to burn himself, he slowly took the first bite of the noddles.

Oh, this. This reminded him of the times his mom would made him noodle soup when he was feeling down. She would also made tempura and sweet potatoes dessert for him, smiling so sweetly as he offered to help her cook. The coconut broth of the meal was delicious, the noodles were easy to chew and swallow. It was both spicy and sweet, bot flavors balancing each other. The food was warm, it was tasty and it was comforting.

" 𝘜𝘮𝘢𝘪! " Kyojuro found himself chanting as he took another bite, again and again until only the broth was left in the still steaming bowl. That was fast. He didn't realized how starving he was.

The woman returned again, napkins in her hands as she lit up at the finished food.

" That good? "

" It was amazing! Delicious! " Kyojuro cried out, noting on how he felt more energetic than before. " What it this meal? Please do tell me! "

She laughed. " It's laksa, usually done with coconut broth or curry flavor. Laksa is a spicy noodle soup from Malaysia, also found in other South East Asian counties including Singapore and Indonesia."

" I feel so much better now! Amazing! " He repeated, eyes twinkling in amazement.

" I am glad you like it, kid. It's on the house. "

" Oh no, I simply cannot -- "

" It's fine, I am about to close anyway. " She insisted, waving the napkins in his face before setting it down on the table. " Besides, I couldn't leave a hungry child out alone, could I? "

" Well then, if you can't receive money as my thank you, then shall I spread the word of your restaurant so you can gain more customers? " He suggested, crossing his arms over his chest. " I do find this place to be too far from the public..."

The woman paused, a flicker of worry could be seen on her face, which then vanished as she gave him a smile.

" I guess that would be nice. Thank you, Rengoku. "

Kyojuro nodded, pleased with the settlement. Belly full, energy recharged and in a good mood, he bid the woman goodnight and hurried back to his house, already thinking of bringing Senjuro to the restaurant and maybe even try on the woman's recipe to try again with gifting his father with another food.

It didn't occured to him of how she knew his name in the first place.

Стиляга

Love imagining nations at their meetings. Like oh look at their little assigned seats with their little cup of water and their little name plate with their little flag pin!

Aww they're showing off their little slideshows at their little podium! Oh no! England and France are having a little fight! Oh and America has a little plan to save the planet! And he broke the little podium with his fist!

Oh, and Germany has a little migraine! He's going to count to ten in his head because of what his little anger management coach taught him!

Oh and now they're on their little lunch break! They packed their little national dishes for lunch!

And the cycle repeats.

love reading about the Great Rapprochement. Arthur spends 1895 to 1915 metaphorically kneeling on the ground going pspspspsps in Alfred’s general direction mostly getting ignored but occasionally getting an increasingly half-hearted “go fuck yourself” in response. it’s fantastic. look at this.

German Ambassador Bernstoff, a shrewd observer, reported in 1911, “The British efforts [to cultivate America] are meeting with a certain return of platonic affection. The old rooted dislike to England is gradually vanishing… But it is not accompanied by any wish to offer anything in return.” In hard diplomatic coin, the Americans took but they did not give. British ministries from Salisbury to Asquith made important concessions of substance and form to the United States. These statesmen gained not alliance nor even true reciprocity, but the elimination of grounds of conflict, occasional and essentially “platonic” or negative support in world politics, and above all a transformation of American attitudes which would pay immense dividends after 1914. While other factors propelled America in the same direction, British policy from 1895 to 1914 was the indispensable element.

I love it. Arthur hasn’t been this nice to Alfred since 1754 and Alfred is completely weirded out and has absolutely no idea what to do with this. so he just keeps being belligerent and Arthur just keeps being nice until eventually Alfred is sitting at a table in Arthur’s garden wondering how the fuck he came to the point where he’s having literal tea parties with the old fucker. 

meanwhile Matthew, Jack, and Eliza are just as weirded out. maybe Matthew less so than Jack and Eliza but like. it’s still really fucking weird when Alfred says things that would get Jack sent to boot camp in the most remote part of the Canadian wilderness and Arthur just smiles. Duncan, Morgan, and Erin are much less surprised, since obviously they remember how much Arthur loved Alfred as a child. on the whole, Duncan thinks it’s funny, Morgan is relieved and pleased, and Erin is utterly disgusted lol. like c’mon, Al, don’t listen to him. he’s so full of shit you know he’s full of shit. 

alas, the end of WW1 proves Erin right and Alfred goes right back to belligerent and aloof (though perhaps not near as much as pre-1895).

These three get shoved into a room together, which one comes out alive? ( spoiler alert, they all SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY, have the same energy) these motherfuckers are their own breed

don’t ask me what tempted me to make this

floragato con botas

bipedal cat from spain

canada's "getting mad at america" example being going "hey." while ame's hurtling down the stairs in a box