#salad spinner sorry it just sounded fun

[belltrigger]

Oh for the character bingo heheh so. Picking feferi because its funny XD. And then Karamatsu and then Emmet!

Aha! Thanks for asking! ♪(´▽｀)

*-Feferi-*

So Feferi huh? With Feferi I am torn! I was not interested in her during the run of the comic, and her connection to HIC (and *her* treatment of The Ψiioniic) kind of made me distrust her. That being said, I do think the general fandom is rather mean towards her. Saying she's boring is kind of lackluster to me; there's a lot to her, a lot of things that happen as a result of (or lack of) her actions. Blaming her entirely for Eridan's outburst is pretty unfair, I think. I've never been a big fan of the "man going berserk because a woman spurned him, so it's her fault" trope.

I do like her design, though! She does need a bit of a bite for being the "fancy free princess" type. Haha

*-Karamatsu-*

I didn't start out with Karamatsu as my favorite. I actually went in expecting for Choromatsu to be my favorite (because of Hiroshi Kamiya ehe. I was on a big kick for him at the time.) But this poor cringefail lad who seemed to actually be trying his best won me over.

The other characters make fun of his outfits but. Uh. Other than having his face on it, I like his style a lot. (Sorry Totty, but your outfits are literally the worst. I hate them so much.)

Karamatsu is silly, and does his best, and I want him to be successful in whatever he wants to do. In fact! I want him to be able to do the things he likes while also having a healthy relationship with his brothers. He loves them a lot, even when he gets mad at them, or frustrated with them (or gets ignored by them （＞人＜；）

*-Emmet-*

(You may notice there is a faint circle around the SQUEAK square. I didn't fully circle it because it's not my intention to squish the poor lad, it just kind of happens.) Into the salad spinner he goes!!

As you can probably see from how Emmet and his brother have consumed my blog, I am completely normal about him :) I certainly don't think of head-canons and scenarios about him all the time!

Of course, despite me being really normal about him, Emmet is probably my favorite of the twins, if I *HAD* to say I preferred one over the other. He's funny and I like that he's always smiling! I love that he and Ingo are identical twins with matching black and white aesthetics, and are so angled! His relationship with Ingo being slightly different in each version of him is also so interesting!! They're close in all of them, but there are little changes that are so fun to explore.

I choose to think that Hisui's timeline is a completely separate universe, and therefore not the end goal for every version of Emmet and Ingo. Some people seem to want other games (including remakes) to involve the fact that Ingo is lost in Hisui, but I would rather that not happen! Fandom is doing an excellent job experimenting with it, and having something canon that is tragic may just make me too sad (*╯^╰)

Oh yeah! I prefer to call him Kudari when I can! Nobori and Kudari just sound very matching to me, compared to Ingo and Emmet. It's a nice aethetic! But, when I switch between the Japanese names and the English names, it's easier for me to say Emmet than Ingo.

#character opinion bingo #valoricky #Submas #Karamatsu #Feferi #character opinion bingo answer

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 6 "Seven Minutes in Hell" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

Everyone would immediately assume the killer is me.

Are you one of those idiot savants who's heavy on the idiot, light on the savant?

I am simply a victim of my times.

Are you aware your pants are on backwards?

Then whose fault is it?

I am never talking about anything ever again!

Yeah, super sorry about what happened down there.

Why are you laughing?

What about that fit you threw down there?

You're not mad at me?

Oh, I meant everything I said about you.

I still think you're useless. I'm just not sad about it.

You never, ever want to be the boss in a time of extreme crisis.

As soon as you become the boss, you get a target on your back, from the feds, the other families, ambitious underlings.

Sure, seems like you have all the power, but you also take on the most risk.

Oh, don't judge me for trying to stay alive.

Do not give an inch.

What's your game here?

I trust you about as far as I can throw you.

I know we don't know who the killer is, but we know it traces back to this house.

There are two things that always happen at a slumber party; someone experiments with lesbianism and secrets are revealed.

We can create situations and scenarios to really prime the pump.

We'll lock everybody up overnight, and we're bound to find out something.

A slumber party sounds fun.

Let's play spin the bottle.

Someone always goes lesbian.

We're playing spin the damn bottle.

Why spin the bottle?

That is not a nasty rumor. That is a true rumor.

So I propose a panty raid.

You taste like wax.

I guess we have to kiss.

You're a great kisser.

Was I interrupting you?

I was just practicing looking disinterested.

I'm pretty sure I was born without that part of the brain that actually feels stuff.

We have so much in common.

I'm starting to think we have something very important and specific in common.

My sex life up until this point is what you'd call unusual.

I think the only way to be sure of your feelings is if you let me gently rub your uterus right now.

When I love someone, it drives them insane.

Believe me when I say that if it was possible for me to feel anything I would totally be crying right now.

That doesn't seem healthy.

All the doors are locked solid. Windows, too. Upstairs and down.

I decided to have the whole house turned into a panic room.

But wait, doesn't that mean that there's some sort of switch somewhere to deactivate it?

I hate being trapped in small places.

There's only one reason why the killer would do something like this-- to pick us off one by one.

Guess it's just a matter of time before one of us or all of us ends up dead.

You have to help us.

Look, I'm prepared to say I'm sorry I did that.

What I'm not prepared to do is say the sex was bad.

Yeah. I'm not gonna apologize for that one.

I'm about to get murdered, so can you please just hang up and get over here?

How on earth are we supposed to get in if all the doors and windows are locked?

Dude, we climb up the ladder, break the windows upstairs, save all the girls, climb back down, then it's vagina city for all of us.

Why would you bomb-proof upstairs windows? For what, like, a flying bomb?

Don't be an idiot.

It's hero time.

Save me and I'm yours forever.

I'm not really sure I'm ready for that level of commitment.

Break the glass!

Stand back, fair maiden.

Give him the dignity of watching him die.

Someone in this house definitely knows who the killer is.

It's truth or dare time.

Whatever it takes to stop the douche that's trying to kill everybody.

I mean, do you ever just stop and ask yourself if we can actually pull this off?

Maybe we all just need to get out of here.

The best way to avoid a shark attack is to not go in the water.

We all have a crisis of faith sometimes.

Maybe you're hiding something.

I'd pick truth and then just lie.

If you want to lie, you can just pick dare.

That's the whole point of truth or dare. You can't lie.

Does your vagina have teeth?

I'm not lying.

My vagina doesn't have teeth.

Does your vagina still have teeth?

So it used to have teeth, but you got them removed?

So your vagina still has teeth.

Sounds like you're trapped in a web of lies.

You're forfeiting your turn, bitch.

Okay, I guess it's my turn, then.

You promised you wouldn't tell.

Sorry. I had to tell the truth.

Of course you're the killer.

I propose we take a little break, You know, take a whiz, get a refill.

You know what? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever trusted you.

I wanted to talk about the other thing you said, about how you thought you had feelings for me.

The only feelings I have for you now are rage and pissed offedness.

Now go sit in that bathtub and think about what you've done. And try not to rub one out, okay?

Come on! I said I was sorry!

If anybody's down here, please don't jump out at me.

Is that blood?

Wait. If you're gonna kill me, at least show me who you are first.

I knew it. I knew it was you.

Please. You don't have to do this. I could help you.

There's never any food in there. Just laxatives.

I got the impression that you and I are on the verge of being the next "it" couple.

See, this is the problem with texting, you know? You can't hear the context.

Even though I decided to not wear a bra, you haven't been staring at my shirt raisins once.

Okay, look, I was waiting to talk to you about this 'cause secretly I was hoping you'd be killed and I wouldn't have to hurt your feelings.

I just don't think it would work out with us.

You're nuts, and not like a typical crazy-eyes co-ed, but wake-up-with-my penis-in-a-jar lunatic.

I love space mountain. Best ride at Disneyland. But I love my penis more.

Number one-- I never take second place. And number two-- I don't stop till I get what I want.

Was that salad spinner hitting on you?

I am super turned on from her, and I need some sweet release.

Is there any, like, Crisco or cooking oil here? Just, like, dry handies bum me out.

I propose we treat ourselves to a little heaven. Seven minutes in heaven.

Whatever your plan was, it isn't working.

Would you like to pat the little man in the canoe?

I want to take our relationship to the next level.

I want us to be together, but I want it to mean something.

I love boning girls all over this great land. But really, at the end of the day, I just kind of want to bone one girl. Like, that one special girl.

I just didn't think that girl was you. Because, obviously, there's so much wrong with you.

Will you get back together with me?

I would consider taking you back under one condition.

You have to pinky-pledge that you will be monogamous to me.

You will not have sex with anyone else. Do you understand me?

Dude, she looks like prepackaged meat from the supermarket.

Oh, god, has someone checked on the kids?

Pretty convenient that you're the one who found the body.

You're the darkest bitch of them all.

Those are some serious accusations, and they make no sense.

I would be opening myself up to a lot of trouble if I were to turn you in to the authorities.

It doesn't do any of us any good to start accusing each other with no evidence.

I suggest that we just have someone stand guard and watch me for the rest of the night, or until someone else dies, therefore proving that I am not the killer.

This feels so good.

I tried to scream, but nothing came out!

Interesting. That's all I'm gonna say. Interesting.

There is a trapdoor with, like, a tunnel system.

But wait, there are secret tunnels in this house perfect for a killer to use, and you neglected to tell us?

That's a little suspicious.

We are losing sight of the big picture here.

I'm not going down there. I do not dig on cobwebs, and I'm guessing there are loads of cobwebs down there.

If you get murdered in those tunnels, I promise I will never bang anyone harder than I banged you.

You're so rich and hot.

These are the nicest secret tunnels I've ever seen.

Wow. What amazing legacies they all have. What do you think ours will be?

If we can get through this year without everyone getting killed, I think we'll go down as the greatest of them all.

You came back for me.

Purely selfish.

You are probably the worst cop ever.

Wait, where are we going?

I won't go!

In three seconds, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out of here.

I just kind of came over here because I farted over there and it smelled bad.

Wait, you're a lesbian?

Basically, I'm in love with love.

The next time I feel love for someone, I'm going to tell them. Right away. Just in case they're murdered before I can.

I just feel like I'm never gonna find a guy who likes me.

I'm a freak.

Nobody actually likes me.

You are totally gonna find another guy.

They're custom-made pink nunchaku.

Thank you for making that announcement that no one cared about.

No slumber party is finished without a kickass dance party.

This is so wonderfully random.

What a great way to pretend all these people we know weren't brutally murdered.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay memes #scream queens

[barpurplewrites]

The Dangers of Kidnapping

Random little one-shot because I got an idea stuck in my head.

RumBelle

Ariel/Eric

-x-x-x-

Ariel was whistling. She wasn’t very good at it, she couldn’t get the sound right, underwater her whistling was musical, but on dry land it sounded strange and wrong.

And apparently very, very annoying.

The hulking man, who she had named Guard, since that’s what he did, was grinding his teeth together. Ariel took great pleasure in his discomfort, it was only fair since she’d been grabbed from the market and bundled into a cell. Kidnapped for ransom apparently, it was not a fun experience. The bag over her head and rough handling had been unpleasant, but what was upsetting her now was the boredom. Once her kidnappers had made her write a letter to Eric demanding gold for her release, they had ignored her. She was given food and such, but it was so boring. The whistling helped a lot.

“Will you stop that damn racket!”

She tilted her head from side to side as she considered, and then grinned at him.

“Nope.”

She started whistling again, the jaunty tune faltering a bit when she grinned at Guard’s frustrated cursing. At least she was learning some new words.

 -o0o-

 There was an argument going on outside, which was unusual because the brigands were normally quite calm and friendly to each other.

“What are you thinking! Only one at a time. You know that!”

That was the panicky voice of the one Ariel had named Fidget. He wasn’t the boss, but did seem to be the brains of the operation. There was a gruff laugh, followed instantly by a smaller giggle; that would be Bubble and Squeak. Bubble was a big man with muscles that looked like they’d been blown up like balloons, and Squeak reminded her of a rat. The door was slammed open and Bubble strolled in with an unconscious form slung over his shoulder. Squeak scampered around and grabbed the keys from the table.

“You worry too much. This one was easy, and she is filthy rich.”

Ariel stepped back as Squeak opened the door and Bubble dropped the unconscious woman on to the floor. She had tried rushing them and escaping, but she was no match for them, and she didn’t like getting a face full of poppy dust.

Fidget was wringing his hands; “Did she faint?”

Bubble laughed; “No, tried to kick and bite so she got a puff of poppy.”

Once the cell was locked, Ariel checked on the clocked woman as the bickering continued.

“Belle?”

Guard caught her whisper; “You know her then?”

“Yes. Wait, did you kidnap her without knowing who she is?”

Squeak tipped out a small sack of jewellery onto Guard’s table; “We know she’s rich, what else matters?”

Ariel’s eyes widened at the sight of the gaudy jewellery. None of that was Belle’s sort of thing, she liked simple pieces, in fact she’d never seen Belle wear anything other than her mother’s necklace and her wedding rings. She doubled checked the sleeping woman in case she had been mistaken. Her eyes were open, and she gave Ariel a sly wink. Nope, this was Belle, and she had a plan.

Guard sniffed; “There’s no assay marks on any of this, not even a maker’s mark. It’s gold, but I don’t know…”

With Belle playing asleep Ariel decided it was her job to have a little fun with their captors; “Her husband makes it for her.”

Bubble slapped Fidget on the shoulder; “See, a wealthy goldsmith. He’ll pay a pretty penny to get her back.”

Ariel couldn’t help but grin; “Oh somebody is going to pay, but her husband isn’t a goldsmith, he’s a spinner.”

Bubble and Squeak wore looks of confusion, while Fidget dropped the bracelet he’d been looking over.

“What did you say?”

“He’s a spinner, well that’s not the only thing he’s known for, but he is very famous for it.”

Fidget froze. he looked sick, for a moment Ariel thought he was going to vomit. He jerked into life and began rushing around gathering his things.

“We have to get out of here, now! Before he comes. You idiots have killed us! Ha! We’ll be lucky if he only kills us.”

It took Bubble and Squeak to stop his frantic movements. Bubble shook him none to kindly; “What’s got in to you? You said that no one would find us here because of the magic in the rocks.”

Fidget pulled out of Bubble’s grip and hissed; “I said it would protect us against normal magic, but Ru.. the Dar.. her husband isn’t normal!”

Belle stretched and sat up; “That’s very rude. It’s not going to do you any favours talking about my husband like that.”

Guard shrugged; “Who is this husband of yours then?”

“No! Don’t say his name!”

There was a beat of tense silence before a new voice whispered; “Say who’s name, dearie?”

Belle and Ariel watched with interest as Rumple dealt with the brigands. Belle rolled her eyes fondly as Rumple toyed with them, letting them get to the door before slamming it closed, and twirling easily out of the way when one got enraged enough to throw a punch his way. Ariel giggled; “It looks like he’s having fun.”

“Oh yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve had to do a rescue. Are you alright, they didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Oh no, I just was so bored.”

Belle squeezed her arm; “Eric should be outside. The plan was that he’d wait until,” – They both hissed in sympathy as Bubble crashed face first into the bars, - “erm, until Rumple had disarmed them. Rumple!”

Rumple extinguished the fireball in his hand and conjured ropes to tie up the gang. He turned to Belle with a sheepish look on his face; “Sorry, sweetheart, got a bit carried away there.”

Belle hummed and nodded her head at the cell door, a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. Rumple waved a hand and bow with a flourish; “Your freedom awaits, ladies.”

  -o0o-

 Dear Henry,

I hope you are well. We are all fine.

Yesterday Mama and Papa helped Eric rescue Ariel. She had been kidnapped by some bad men who were hiding in a place where tracking spells can find.

Mama came up with a brilliant plan to get herself kidnapped by the bad men, so Papa would be able to find her and rescue everyone, because Papa can always find me and Mama. Papa had to do some magic, but it was Mama’s plan and Ariel said she was very clever and brave. Ariel said one of the bad men wet his pants when Papa turned up, but she said a different word that I wasn’t supposed to hear. We stayed for the big party and I got to eat lots of cakes and stay up until really late.

The bad men are locked up now, so they can’t be bad anymore. Ariel showed me her collection of salad tridents, that is what she calls forks, she has loads of them! Eric is taking me out on a boat tomorrow, so Mama and Papa can have a quiet day. I bet they will kiss a lot.

Write back soon,

Lots of Love

Uncle Gideon xxx

#rumbelle fic #fluff

[oldmythos]

Commission for @quiddid, who asked for Heith. I had way too much fun sending these two to a carnival <3. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for the support!

Keith tried his best not to be awkward.

He’d been awkward when Hunk had asked him out, he’d been awkward when Hunk picked him up in his 2001 dull gold Toyota Corolla, forgetting to put his seatbelt on, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. Hunk had reminded him.

Stupid, who forgets their seatbelt?

He’d made some joke about being too used to his bike, and that there wasn’t a seatbelt on it. Hunk had indulged him with a laugh and Keith tried his best not to blush. The date had just begun and he was already blushing. They’d parked and gotten in line with only small talk from Hunk and a lot of silence from Keith

He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands. Did they go in his pockets? No, that looked uncomfortable.

I am uncomfortable.

No, but he didn’t want to look uncomfortable. If he kept shifting around, kept moving his hands to different, equally uncomfortable positions, Hunk would figure out that he’d never been on a date.

(Keep reading below the cut)

Somewhere between crossed arms and back in his pockets, Hunk grabbed his hand. Keith stilled as Hunk threaded their fingers together, Hunk’s hand dwarfing his own.

“Why are you so nervous?”

He knows.

Keith coughed. “I’ve just never—“ he stopped himself. “I’ve never been to a carnival.”

Hunk gasped and brought his hands, one still holding Keith’s, up to his mouth.

“Keith!” he yelled, glee evident in his wide smile and shining eyes, “this is your first time at a carnival! Oh, I’m going to show you everything.”

Keith could do nothing but smile with him, wide-eyed, as the line slowly moved forward and Hunk described all the amazing things held on the other side of the ticket booth.

“…and funnel cakes! Keith, have you ever had funnel cakes?”

Keith was too busy smiling, watching Hunk’s face, to notice that he was supposed to respond now. Hunk looked at him and he was just caught by the warmth in his eyes. They were still holding hands.

“Keith?”

He snapped back into focus and shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

Hunk laughed. It was just such a rich, happy sound. Keith loved it.

“I asked if you’ve ever had a funnel cake.”

Keith pinched his brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is. Maybe?”

Hunk gasped again.

“You would know if you’d had a funnel cake. Oh, I’m so excited!” He was practically bouncing. They were next in line. “I’m going to show you all of the food, all the rides, rides first though, you don’t want to go in the salad spinner after a funnel cake, and let me tell you, that’s a second date story if there ever was one. Oh, but it’s so fitting now!”

Hunk paused his story to buy both of their tickets. Keith’s hand felt empty for that brief minute, but then Hunk’s hand was back in his, warm and soft and all encompassing. They entered through the big, neon archway that screamed “COUNTY FAIR” in bright colors, faded a bit by the sun but no less exciting.

It smelled like oil and people, a heavy sweetness under it all. They were technically in a field in the middle of nowhere, but it was overwhelming. Keith didn’t know what to look at first. The sun was just starting to set, casting the stalls and rides in shadow. He followed a carriage of the ferris wheel up, over to the drop ride and the spinning swings.

When he turned to Hunk, he was just watching him with a grin.

“What do you want to do first?”

Keith let out a short, disbelieving laugh, trying to take it all in, and covered his mouth. “There’s a lot going on here.”

Hunk laughed, slung his arm around Keith’s thin shoulders, and pulled him in close. “Let’s start with the swings.”

Keith wasn’t entirely sure what Hunk was talking about a lot of the time, but he just got so excited by his words. Hunk could talk for hours about centrifugal force, the specific numbers and ratios, the exact reason that the swings worked in the way they did, and Keith didn’t even need to know what he was talking about to get excited with him.

They sat next to each other. Hunk let go of his hand to hold onto the chains in front of him. He closed his eyes with a smile. Keith didn’t have time to ask any questions about it, because then they were moving.

Keith felt his feet leave the ground, and then he was spinning, raising higher and higher in the sky. A laugh burst from his chest as the centrifugal force Hunk was just talking about pulled him sideways. He could see it all, the sun setting pink and orange on the horizon, the people, just dashes in his vision as he spun past them. The lights were becoming bright as night fell, painting the fairground in volume. He heard the screams of joy from the drop ride, from the group of kids a few seats behind him.

And to his side, there was Hunk, eyes closed but chin up. He was just breathing it in.

Keith blinked. He looked back in front of him, the bright lights and the sunset, and he closed his eyes.

He felt the wind on his face. It smelled different up here, cleaner and lighter than it did in the heart of the fairground. The air whooshed past his ears and the sounds were so much clearer.

It was peaceful.

The ride slowed, came to a stop, and Keith finally opened up his eyes once more. Hunk was pulling himself out of his seat and Keith quickly followed.

On the other side of the gate, Keith grabbed Hunk’s hand in his own. Hunk beamed down at him.

“Was it fun?”

“It was amazing.” His response was breathless and excited, his cheeks unashamedly red.

They went on ride after ride and after every single one, Keith talked a little bit more, and Hunk let himself talk a little bit less.

Hunk gave Keith a hard no on the drop ride, and Keith just laughed, putting himself under Hunk’s arm.

“Then what do we do next?”

Hunk pulled him in the direction of the food stalls.

They shared a massive pickle. Both of them tried to keep the dick jokes to a minimum, but it was right there. Hunk was the first to break. He started laughing mid bite.

“It looks like a dick!”

Keith doubled over in laughter. Hunk didn’t even have to try to be funny to make him laugh. They moved on to the corndogs, and this time, when Hunk handed it to him, Keith was the one who got to say it, blank faced.

“Wow, it looks like a dick.”

Giggling was kind of unfamiliar for Keith, but Hunk’s unabashed laughter brought it out in him.

The food was delicious, and by the time they made it to funnel cakes, Keith was too full for another bite.

“Huuunk,” he whined, hanging off of Hunk’s shoulder, “no more food, I can’t take it.”

Hunk shook his head.

“You’re not allowed to tap out until you at the very least try it.”

Keith groaned and hung his head.

“One bite.”

Keith rolled his eyes but nodded, the heavy feeling in his stomach just on the edge of overwhelming.

The smell of the fried confection they were served on a greasy paper plate cut right through it, and Keith was finally able to identify the undercurrent of sweet that permeated the festival.

Hunk broke off a piece, careful not to shake the powdered sugar loose. He held it out to Keith and gave him an expectant look.

Keith delicately took it from his hand, took a breath, and took a bite.

His moan was far from decent, eyes rolling up into his head.

“Oh my god, Hunk.”

Hunk nodded and took a piece for himself.

They weren’t able to finish it, but they got a lot more down than Keith expected. They wandered past the games, the many colored lights highlighting every single side of them in a different shade of red, pink, blue, green, stark against the night that surrounded the fair.

At the end of the night, when Hunk dropped him back off at the dorms and walked him to the door, their kiss tasted like powdered sugar.

My commissions are still open!

#myth writes #heith #hunk #keith #heith fic #myth commissions #first time i've written these two #and i love them so much

[2peasinapodme-blog]

Living like locals in Portland, OR – our 2-week experiment (cont’d)

Day 4:

It’s Saturday, and you know what that means…it’s farmer’s market time! Portland has more farmer’s markets per capita than any other city and for good reason — it’s literally surrounded by farms on all sides.  Fruit orchards to the east, vineyards to the south, produce and dairy farms to the west – it’s a veritable Garden of Eden! I can’t wait to see what interesting and oddball tidbits we find today.

We headed straight for the largest of the markets, located in the heart of downtown at Portland State University. Parking was a little tricky, so we opted for a parking garage a block away which offered a very reasonable $7 weekend daily rate (in Chicago, that same space would have cost us $40). When we entered the market, we were blown away by the sheer size of it. There must have been 60-70+ market vendors lining both sides of the PSU quad with food pods at either end.

The first thing that struck me as different was the immense variety of produce – a vendor might offer 8 different types of peppers or 5 sizes of artichokes, from ginormous down to baby-size. Not just one or two types of eggs, but eight.

  The other aspect that intrigued me was the artistic displays that they created to present their wares – cupboards made of old windows, wooden crates, whatever materials they could scrounge up…and it all looked awesome and cool.

And then there was the food itself, all made or grown locally, of course, and representing every imaginable food category — flavored salts, seafood, nut butters, chocolates, jerky, mushrooms, and so on — and every ethnic flavor, from Middle Eatern and Vietnamese to (very respectable) Chicago-style pizza (below) and vegan (lots and lots of vegan!).

There was a booth selling half a dozen varieties of peppers that they were grilling on-site in a big rotating roaster that resembled a giant bingo spinner…

And then there was this…

And this…

And if that’s not enough to pique your interest, there’s always the quirky entertainment. On this particular visit, we were serenaded by a guitar/kazoo duo and a guy playing a saw (yes, the tool) which, if you closed your eyes, sounded a lot like an aging B-grade opera singer…

  In total, it was a fun and memorable morning, and undeniably a feast for all of the senses.

After the market, we strolled down the green to the Portland Art Museum for some culture. Unfortunately, one of the two buildings that comprise the museum complex was closed for a special event that night, but we were offered free entry to the one building that was open which housed the museum’s American and modern collections…

  Guess we will just have to return another time to see the European and Asian collections. Darn.

All that culture made us downright hungry, so we headed east to 2nd Avenue and a popular Vietnamese restaurant called Luc Lac (835 SW 2nd Ave.). Being Saturday, the place was packed, as are most Portland restaurants on a weekend. But they have devised a brilliant tactic to get patrons through quickly. While standing in the queue to check in for a table, they provide menus and then take your order before seating you…sort of like a very high end, hipster Chipotle but with a full bar.

Menu at Luc Lac

The bar at Luc Lac

Within 10 minutes, we were seated at the bar. Having already placed our orders at the hostess stand, all that was left to do was enjoy or cocktails and wait for our food to arrive.

In an effort to eat a little lighter, I had ordered the shrimp-and-pork spring rolls and the Bo Tai Chanh (raw steak salad), both of which were delicious. As is the case with good Vietnamese food, fragrant fresh herbs play a leading role. In this case, the mint in the spring rolls and the abundant cilantro in the salad took the dishes to the next level. Mike ordered the pork Bahn Mi — an explosion of flavors and truly outstanding. Expertly prepared and well-balanced with a nice, crusty French bread, it was a winner.

  After lunch, we headed to the SW quadrant to view a couple of residential open houses and then back to our ‘hood in the SE quadrant. One of the many great things about Portland, we’re finding, is the ease with which you can get from one neighborhood to another and the unique personalities of each. Once back in SE, we decided to park ourselves on the outdoor patio of OP Wurst (SE Division) and soak up the elusive sunshine. What better way to pass the afternoon than with beers in hand, listening to live music and watching people enjoy the sunny weather playing ping pong and corn hole?  It just works, trust me.

  Dinner that night proved to be a little trickier – a novice learning curve, you might say. Eager to try some of the great neighborhood restaurants, we headed out to Ava Gene’s on the corner only to find a wait of 1.5-2 hours for a table. Undeterred, we moved on down the street to Pok Pok – same 1.5-2 hour estimation there. Restaurants 3 and 4 – the same story. Even Salt & Straw, the ice cream shop, had a line down the block. Sufficiently disappointed and plenty hungry, we returned home to whip up some pasta and drown our sorrows in wine. Lesson learned – don’t go out on a Saturday night in Portland without a reservation or a very high level of patience.

Day 5:

Like many American households, Sunday means one thing: NFL. And when we’re on the road, it still means NFL; it just means we have to be a little more resourceful to find our game. Mike is a lot of things, but first and foremost he’s resourceful. Portland doesn’t have an NFL team, so most Portlanders adopt another team, typically the Seattle Seahawks. But we needed a bar that would be live streaming the Chicago Bears game. With a few Google searches, Mike found the Hobnob Grille which appeared to be a Bears-friendly bar. And boy was it! When we arrived, unsure of what we would find, we were greeted by a table of excitable, Bears jersey-wearing fans screaming expletives at the TV screen. It felt like home!

We grabbed two stools at the bar and ordered a round of very respectable Bloody Marys.

As we looked around, we noticed that absolutely everyone was dressed in Bears gear, including the staff. We had found our place!

We were expecting typical pub grub, but this is Portland and nothing is typical here. Even neighborhood corner bars have talented chefs and inspired menus. Since it was brunch time (Games start at 10 am Pacific time – something we will have to get used to. Bloodies help.), I ordered the pork belly benedict and Mike ordered the brisket and hash.

Pork belly benedict with BBQ beets at Hobnob Grille

Simply wow. The pork belly was incredibly tender and flavorful, and when layered with the soft egg and bacon-dripping hollandaise, it was ridiculous. The brisket and hash browns were equally delicious and highly recommended, but I think Mike was expecting something more resembling corned beef hash. Either way, he wasn’t disappointed. And I overheard the couple next to us repeatedly assert that the Philly omelette they ordered was the best omelette they had ever had. Quite a statement for an unassuming corner bar.

Yes, we have found our Bears go-to bar, and yes, we will be returning Thursday night for the Bears-Packers game. Hopefully it will bring us another win!

Sunday afternoon was filled with more residential open houses  — one slightly encouraging, the other quite disappointing. But that’s the nature of house-hunting. After you see a lot of dogs, you really know when the right one comes around. It makes the hunt all the more compelling.

Later that evening, we were anxious to get out and grab some dinner. Seeing that it was Sunday, we hoped that we would have better luck than the night before getting in some place. But not willing to risk it, we made an advance reservation. Since it was a nice night, we decided to walk the dozen or so blocks to La Moule, a little Belgian restaurant tucked away in a tiny pocket neighborhood at SE Clinton and 26th. I’m learning the these quaint little pockets exist all over Portland. You turn a corner and boom, there’s yet another interesting pod of shops and restaurants.

La Moule is a lovely, sophisticated little corner restaurant, consisting of two narrow rooms and an open kitchen.

We were seated in the back room which, with its dim lighting and glowing bar, made for a nice, romantic atmosphere – a great place for a date!

As the name implies, La Moule specializes in mussels, a traditional Belgian dish. The typical ‘Mariniere’ preparation involves a mound of mussels swimming in a broth of shallots, tomatoes, garlic and wine. But La Moule offers several other variations, from Korean and Puttanesca to Saffron-infused. I selected the Vietnamese preparation with bone broth, bean sprouts, jalapeño, cilantro, mint and lime. (Sorry for the lame photo below.)

The mussels were plump and incredibly tender, and the fragrant herbs and bone broth added a balanced complexity. I didn’t think I could finish the entire bowl, but somehow I found the inner strength to power through. Mike order the lamb t-bone with crispy artichokes, baba ganoush and sea beans.

Again, due to the dim lighting, the photo doesn’t do justice to the dish, but hopefully you can see the delicately fried artichoke on the left because it was a little gem of deliciousness and deserves to be recognized. The accompanying lamb steak with a flavor-packed spice rub was prepared to perfection.

Despite being completely stuffed from the mountain of moules, I never seem to be able to pass on the temptation of a cheese plate…so bring it on! A beautiful selection of sheep’s milk, pungent gorgonzola dolce and ricotta-style goat — all locally produced and truly delicious — paired with a Belgian Westmalle Trappist ale. The perfect ending to a meal. And thankfully, we had a nice walk back to stretch our legs and encourage digestion. What will tomorrow bring?

      Day-by-Day in PDX Living like locals in Portland, OR - our 2-week experiment (cont'd) Day 4: It's Saturday, and you know what that means...it's farmer's market time!

#bahn mi #Hobnob Grille #La Moule #Lamb t-bone #Luc Lac Vietnamese #OP Wurst #Portland Art Museum #Portland Farmer&039;s Market #Vietnamese-style mussels