#Connoisseur of Salt

[senorboombastic]

This One Song… Sweeping Promises on Eraser

Tell you what – we love hearing from artists when things go right. We equally love hearing from artists when things go dreadfully wrong. A song that was a piece of piss, written in 20 minutes? Or years in the making and a bastard to write? Whether it’s a song that came together through great duress or one that was smashed out in a short amount of time, we’re getting the lowdown from some of our…

[lavenderprose]

The greater our flag means death fandom needs to take notes from the The Terror and IWTV fandoms. I don't go there but from what I've seen they know how to absolutely cherish their sexy sexy senior citizens. Old man fuckers unite.

[humanundead]

re: last post i would've also said salt and vinegar chips if not for the fact that the specifically target brand kettle cooked salt and vinegar chips are my favorite salt and vinegar chips

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Teaching a Siren to read is perhaps the best or worst idea that you've ever had. If only you were half as capable of reading between the lines.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

‘U-G-L-Y’

“Wow,” you drawled. “What a wonderful use of your new talents.”

The fish you were cooking landed upside down on the hot stone with a crackling sizzle of skin that you could feel as a jumping prickle of heat all along your arm. You poked at your impromptu stovetop with your impromptu stick-spatula and prepared your impromptu leaf-plates. A true culinary connoisseur, you were. When you were rescued, you were going to argue to Riddle that you deserved a promotion to the kitchens. Though, apparently not everyone appreciated your talents.

‘UGLY’ the Siren poked again, jabbing his talon into the sand.

“Then bring me prettier fish,” you returned, pointed. “It’s not that hard.”

His sharp, black claws came up to point at you next alongside his wonderful, two-syllable insult. Then back to you again, with four fingers this time. Both hands going for it. There was a tight, irritated expression on his face that you refused to call a pout because firstly, surely this vicious king of the seas could never pull something so childish. And secondly, because in these past few days you’d developed a terrible habit of just chattering each and every one of your thoughts aloud. And if you called him bratty, or dared imply such pouting was coming from his regal visage, you were just setting yourself up to get drenched by his flailing tail all over again.

“You can’t hurt my feelings,” you said, bland. “Ugly is the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”

He huffed and smacked his fins against the sand. The trailing, dark tips cracked against your leg and you kicked him right back. It didn’t actually hurt, no more than a pinch to the side, but you’d spent enough time with this asshole now that not fighting back like a toddler pitching a tantrum wasn’t an option anymore.

Just over two weeks, now. Fifteen days and counting.

Those first few days had been spent in a nervous, prey-like panic, of course. Watching him circle the bay with his shredded fins, crying at the top of his lungs until your goosebumps had goosebumps. And then you’d helped untangle him from the mess you’d made, delicately working salt-brined twine away from weeping wounds. Sure, there’d been that whole hoopla of him pinning you in the sand after your act of Great Chivalry and promptly threatening to rip your throat out with his teeth, but you’d moved past that. The offering of home-cooked meals had softened his scaly hide, and then the even greater move of handing him your species’ alphabet like some great, guarded secret of old had sealed the deal. Cheers all around. It’d only taken you nearly being eaten, disemboweled, and drowned, but you’d made peace with your roommate. What a success story.

And now instead of trying to murder you, he just called you U-G-L-Y.

So, you know, baby steps.

The thin, pointed end of his tail whipped up from where you’d kicked him to twine around your ankle and give a sharp tug that had you sprawling face first into the sand with an oomph. Your great tumble sent all those pretty letters of his scattering in the breeze, and you spat out a mouthful of grit.

“Here’s a new one for you,” you chirped, digging your fingers into the muck. F-U-C-K—Y-O-U.

The Siren yowled, which you’d come to recognize far too well as a prickle along your nape and that forever echoing tug, tug, tug somewhere in your head that could never return the call with its corresponding answer. His tail flailed out again to smack at your hands. It was thick, and scaly, and all smooth, powerful muscle. The fact that he hadn’t crushed your poor fingers into a sad, bony paste by now beneath its wrath was a miracle. If you were a more optimistic person, you’d say he was being extra gentle with you on purpose. But even you weren’t delusional enough to think he liked you that much.

“Okay, okay,” you grouched, spitting out another mouthful of pebbles. “Fine. Just not around the food. Unless you want to have to go hunting for dinner all over again.”

The Siren huffed, rolling his eyes like it was a professional sport, and settled himself prettily back against the butt of his tail like he’d never even tried to beat you to death with his fins at all.

You sighed and pulled yourself back out of the sand, scrubbing it from your salt-sticky skin as best as you were able. You returned to poking at your fish. They weren’t too terribly singed, despite your distraction. And the Siren seemed to like the edges extra crispy either way, so it wasn’t any kind of loss. You were in the middle of balancing your impromptu stick-spatula against another impromptu stick-spoon to try and flip the fish without destroying it entirely when you felt a gentle poke, poke, poke against your arm.

You looked back and the Siren stared down at you, lips canted in a sharp smirk that was all pride.

U-G-L-Y—A-N-D—S-T-U-P-I-D, the sand said.

He’d been struggling with applying the whole -pid noise to the proper lettering, because of how similar it was to -ped. And the spelling had been tripping him up (with much obvious frustration) for the last day or so.

“Well done,” you sighed, not even too terribly upset that it had taken you months in Riddle’s impromptu classrooms to learn what he was picking up over the course of a few, harried sessions delivered with broken bits of sharp sticks and an ever changing canvas. “Try this.”

You scribbled another message in the sand. An insult, naturally, because he seemed to like those. You sounded out the letters as you hopped the tip of your finger over them one-by-one, and the Siren stared down at the inscription with the sort of intense focus meant for ancient tomes or sacred texts. You watched his lips move silently as he sounded it out alongside your mini-lesson, and then he was reaching forward to trace over the letters with the curved tip of a claw—knuckles bumping yours for a moment before shooing your hand away.

You returned to your dinner—finishing up the poor, murdered fish as best as you could and doling it out as usual. You reached out to hand pretty boy his leaf-plate, which he took like a lord accepting a meal from a lowly servant. All upturned noses and pointed disinterest. He set it beside him and nibbled on the offering as he continued to study the new task you’d given him—grand, purple fins splayed out at his sides to brush against your hip like a habit. And this was your life now, apparently. Sitting and frying lazy, shallow water fish over a heated stone while your Siren student studied curse words in the sand. If you managed to survive this, no one would ever believe you.

.

.

The wrecked ship called to you like, well, did you even have to say it.

(It felt like a low hanging pun at this point. You’d never be able to use the expression again for as long as you lived without thinking of narrowed, purple eyes nearly rolling up into the back of a too pretty head because you were apparently that annoying.)

Every day when you ventured towards the western side of the islet to feed your teeny, round octopus friend, you couldn’t help but sit and stare at the shattered hull. It’s not like it was in any sort of shape to actually get you off your little, sandy prison, but it was… There was something about it that was familiar enough to scratch an itch in your brain, but just alien enough that figuring out what was itching was outright impossible.

Silver songbirds.

‘Not safe,’ the Siren had demanded, with an almost frantic look to him. Not safe.

Every time you tried to venture closer to get a better look, it was like he could feel it. And he’d be pacing the shoreline like a blood-frenzied shark—rattling off muted, angry complaints the whole time that popped against your skin like soda fizz. So, lesson learned. Keep away.  

It was a particularly sweltering afternoon today. Not a cloud in the bright, blue sky and nary a breeze to be seen. Sweat was beading unpleasantly along your brow and all down your back, and you hated it. At least on the Rose Queen there had been shade. And the lower decks of the ship submerged in the waves had always felt at least a little chilled. You could practically feel the damp, cool wood against your cheek. The smell of salt and pine oils in your nose. But here, on this stupid not-island with its barren trees and nothings, you just had to suffer in silence. The memories of your ship had you thinking of the washed up Songbird all over again, and you were in the middle of a heated, internal debate over making a swim for it again when something cold rained down over your face in small, scattered droplets.

You blinked back into focus to see Mister Merman at your ankles. You’d been sitting with your heels in the water, but no deeper. Because the shallows were still his territory, and while he hadn’t tried to hold you under in a while now, it was hard to forget something like that so easily. You didn’t really want to chance it if a foul mood struck him, no matter what sort of fragile truce seemed to exist between the pair of you lately.

Last you’d looked he’d been sunning himself on one of the wide, flat rocks—as he was wont to do. Lavender-tipped hair splayed out along his cheeks in a pool of soft gold and fins spread at his hips like the finest, plum silks. How he never seemed to burn with that delicate, ivory skin of his you had no idea. Maybe it was a Magical, Mystical, Merman perk yet undocumented. Or maybe he was just Like That. But he’d been snoozing away on his favorite boulder, and now he had rolled in with the tide to lounge by your toes. His fingers were spread, still dripping with sea water from where he’d flicked you in the face. You frowned at him—partly curious, but also pissilly blinking salt out of your eyes that stung, because come on dude.

He flicked more water your way and said something that you couldn’t manage to catch the shape of. When you didn’t respond with anything other than a pointed scrub of the water dripping down your cheeks, he reached out to wrap a clawed hand around your ankle and give a gentle tug.

“What?” you frowned, confused, and he tugged again.

He canted his head towards you, and then out to the cove behind him. He slipped back with the soft, frothy roll of the waves—just a foot or two—and clearly meant to pull you with him. You slid against the sandbar with a yelp and dug your heels into the muck to keep from getting yanked all the way in.

“No way,” you snipped, kicking a mess of water into his face. He didn’t even blink, just frowned down at you with a twisty sort of petulance. “I thought we were over this. If you drown me you won’t get any more cooked food, y’know. And I, in turn, would very much like to not be drowned. Win, win.”

That frown of his went stiff, and his lips twitched down at the corners. His amethyst eyes darted away and for a moment you swore that those gemstone irises flashed with something almost like guilt. He rolled forward with the next curl of surf and pressed a claw into the damp, dark sand at your hip. He scratched out a careful message, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze all the while.

Won’t, it said.

“Forgive me for not believing that,” you returned, dry. “You’re oh-for-two now, I think. And, you know, fool me twice, and all that.” Though maybe the first one didn’t really count, seeing how you were both tangled together and sinking to the bottom in a mutual sort of destruction. But whatever. You were keeping it.

The Siren’s brow pinched in the middle and he reached forward to dig his claws in again.

Accident.

Your own brows jumped nearly to your hairline. You were just about to politely point out that dragging someone to the bottom of the ocean until they were bubbling from the nose and flailing wasn’t really an accident,but then you remembered the startled look on his face. The way he hadn’t stopped you from clawing your way back to the surface and how he’d carefully helped tow you back towards the shore after. And… maybe he hadn’t really meant it. It had to be strange, probably. Being able to thrive so easily below the waves and then be faced with someone who would die if they were left facedown in a puddle.  

“…Fine,” you huffed, and his eyes jumped back up to yours with all cat-in-the-cream smugness. “But just because I’m about to drop from heatstroke. Not because you asked.”

The Siren rolled his eyes at you and returned to dragging you by your ankles into the shallows.

The bay really was very lovely. It was crystalline clear and the sort of brilliant blue that you’d never even known existed until you’d left the land for a life on the open ocean. The sand below your feet was soft and white, with barely any pebbles or broken bits of shell to dig into your toes. You watched a few crabs scurry out of the way as you were led deeper and deeper, but most of the cove’s occupants were spoiled and slow. Unbothered by this weird, fleshy, bipedal creature stepping past because they’d never known anything else. Once you hit waist-deep, the Siren let go of you to sink more fully into the water. He swam around you in a languid, looping circle—plum fins cresting the surface to flick water against your arms and scales shining like polished glass in the sunlight. It was still far too shallow for him to move around in earnest with how massive that tail of his was, and how wide and trailing his great, beta-like fins were, but he was still elegant. Still fast and flexible as he swam rings around you like an orbit.

“Show off,” you scoffed, but couldn’t quite bite back the grin twitching at your lips.

Because creature from the deep trying to devour your crew or not, Sirens really were so impressive, weren’t they? Straight out of a storybook, and deserving of every song and tale attributed to them.

You reached out before you could help yourself to run your fingers along his tail. The scales were smooth, and sleek, and cool against your palm. The wispy ends of his fins caught along your fingers, but other than a bit of a tangle, you almost managed to run your hand along the whole of it. And what was it? Eight feet? Ten? Bigger than you at least, that was for sure. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. No fish, or whale hide, or shark. Something entirely of its own.

You realized on the next loop when your fingers danced over a patch of still healing scales that you’d felt already that he had most definitely realized your err in personal space, and was letting you poke about on purpose. You glanced up, embarrassed and warm faced, to see the tail end of a smirk quirking out from the water’s surface. Preening bastard.

You turned up your nose and waded deeper. There was a ripple in the water around you, like a chuckle, and he returned to his looping circles. Occasionally his tail would brush up against you to get you to jump, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself and—as promised—did not attempt to wrestle you down to the sandy floor and your subsequent watery grave.

Once you’d made it up to your chest, the Siren was able to start his dance in earnest. He darted away to make a wide arc around the edge of the cove—sunshine catching on his scales like a glare on the water. He shot from one end to the other, so fast it was nearly dizzying to try and keep up with. And then he was back to circling your ankles all over again—tangling your legs in his fins and curling his talons against your calves to try and drag you deeper.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, paddling after him until you were well and truly above your head. The bay wasn’t very deep, but there were a few areas that dipped down to at least fifteen feet. So soon enough you were bobbing like a top in the gentle surf as he looped around your idly kicking feet—brushing up along your ankles and tugging at the frayed edge of your shirt with his claws when he passed by.

When he next rose above the surface, you’d already taken in a big mouthful of water in preparation, and shot it right into his face. The Siren’s whole expression shriveled up like a hundred-year-old prune and you laughed so hard he had to curl his tail around your waist to keep you from dipping under the waves and choking yourself. You let him drag you around and only grabbed at his fins a little. He would dive below your feet and you’d sink after him. Not nearly as agile or adept, but competent enough to follow his little game of tag without losing completely within the first few seconds. It was—it was nice. Genuinely. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swam for the fun of it. Way back when you’d first joined up with Riddle’s crew, maybe. It’d been a hot day, just like this one, and you’d been anchored in a safe, shallow inlet off the coast of an archipelago. Deuce and Ace had jumped in first, already brawling, and you’d dove in soon after. It’d been a mess, and Riddle had nearly hung the three of you up by your toes for it. But it’d been fun. Familial. Warm. Something you’d never forget. And while this moment didn’t feel entirely like that one had, there was something similar about it. Sure, you weren’t trying to give the Siren a bloody nose and there were no rock wars, but it was… well, it was nice.

By the end of it, he was swimming lazy, looping shapes around the cove, and you were being dragged alongside him like a raft—kept afloat by the curling press of his tail and relaxing in the afternoon sunshine with the cool ripples of the ocean water to keep you both comfortable in the heat.

“Do you do this a lot?” you asked, as you relaxed in the gentle lull of the surf. “With your pod, I mean.”

The Siren stiffened beneath you, but after a moment he nodded. Slow and rigid. Which—

Oh. Right.

“…sorry,” you mumbled, gaze darting away.

Because he was missing his family just as much as you were missing yours, wasn’t he?

All that frantic pacing at the start of your mutual stranding had just seemed to… fade away as the days passed. He would still circle the entrance of the cove some mornings, singing towards the skies and tilting his head—fins pricked as he searched for an answer. You’d feel it in your nerves, see the gulls overhead dipping in a trance and watch the crabs crawl up onto the sand like they were being dragged out by their little claws. But most of the time now he just… didn’t. He spent his days mumbling over the letters you showed him, or carefully preening over his healing fins and resting in the sun. Catching fish for you to prepare and roast, and taking his meals at your side as you both snipped at each other with sandy curse words. It was pleasant, this routine you’d fallen into together. But all the same, he never really stopped checking the ocean waters. And you could see a spark in his eyes, an itch. The same one that lit yours, no doubt, every time you caught yourself squinting for the outline of ships on the horizon.

The difference between the two of you, of course, was that in a few more days his scales would be healed enough to face the dangers of the open water alone. Life as a rogue mer was notoriously perilous. The lone Sirens were those that poachers were willing to risk battle with for a trophy. They were the ones caught in fishing nets, and found mauled by rival pods. But your Siren was smart. He was big, and strong, and impressive. He’d find a way to survive it, no doubt. One morning you’d wake up and he’d have darted off into the deep to search for his family. To go home. And you…

You would still be trapped here.

Alone.

Forever.

Rotting under the sun with no one to take you swimming in the afternoons. Or bring you clawed up fish to cook for dinner. Or to use your writing lessons just to insult you with scribbled words in the muck.

Which—that was what you’d wanted, wasn’t it? At the start of all of this.

And it was only fair, in the end. He was the better of the two of you, after all. Born and bred to thrive in the depths of the sea that would swallow you whole without a thought. And if either of you was going to survive, to find your home again, it was always going to be him. Maybe you’d be a story, like he would have been for you. The strange human with no ears, just like the rest of the pirates whispered about. Who taught him that fire could make fish extra tasty and that leaves could make perfectly serviceable plates if you tried hard enough.

You sighed, and bubbles of salt water frothed along your mouth.

The Siren raised his head from his own lazy sprawl to arch a brow at you in question, and you did the very mature thing of spitting water in his face all over again.

You ended up being dragged through the cove in a flurry of spitting, Siren rage. Laughing and laughing until he huffed and hauled you back to shore to keep you from swallowing any more seawater like the idiot that you were. And it was fine, really it was. He wasn’t so bad, not really. And if he was able to reunite with his pod once more after all those days of hollow wailing and pacing, pacing, pacing that had made something deep in your soul itch like a freshly scabbed wound that you just couldn’t stop picking, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad ending after all.

.

.

The next afternoon while you were out on your daily Octopus Wellness Check, you came across a piece of pale, purple sea glass mixed into the rocky shore. It was smooth to the touch and frosted over by the endless tumble of the tide. You held it up to the light and it sparkled just like the Siren’s scales.

“What do you think?” you asked the octopus as it grabbed shredded bits of fish with its chubby, little tentacles. “Do you want it? Or should I give it to—”

You blinked, startled, and realized all at once that you’d never learned the Siren’s name. Or given him yours. You’d just sort of been calling each other a variety of derogatory pseudonyms and hoping for the best. Which, huh. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to know his name. It wasn’t yours to take, of course. Let alone from someone who would no doubt be leaving so soon. But it was a thought.

“You always give the best advice, you know,” you told the teeny creature, and it hid from you like you were a great, looming monster of old. “Whether you meant to or not. Thanks for that.”

So on the way back to your cove, you picked through some tufts of beachgrass to find the longest, driest spikes. You began winding them together as you walked, and settled down in your favorite little corner of the inlet to continue your weaving. The Siren, naturally—being as nosy as he was—was immediately hovering over you like a child watching someone hold a bag of sweets just out of reach. You clutched your little project to your chest like a secret, and it had him puffing up in irritation and smacking his fins against your sides like your refusal to share whatever had caught your attention was a crime beyond comparison. He arched up as tall as he could to try and peer over your shoulder, and, in failing at that, just outright tried to snatch the thing from your hands.

“I won’t give it to you if you keep being a pest,” you warned, and immediately he was slipping back to rest on his stomach in the damp sand with a starbright curiosity in his eyes, chin pillowed atop his interlaced fingers and gaze following the movements of your hands like a cat tracking a mouse in its hole. Clearly the promise of it being a treat for him was mollification enough to keep him from hovering.

Once you’d braided a sturdy enough chain, you carefully twined it around the sea glass in a little, crisscrossing cage of fibers. Just knotted enough to keep the ocean-worn trinket safe and in place without hiding the shine of it. With that, you held up your trophy with a dramatic wave, and the Siren was popping up all over again. His amethyst glare tracked the swinging pendant with startling focus and a surprisingly wide-eyed spark of confusion.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to drop the makeshift necklace into his lap. He caught it in his claws, eyes still far too round with shock. “It made me think of your scales. I thought you might like it.”

He was staring down at the gift in utter silence. And not the normal sort of quiet either—where your broken eardrums simply refused to pick up on all his petulant grousing against your person. This was actual silence. His lips were parted like they were caught on a breath, but he wasn’t saying anything. Not even a complaint about how plain and ugly it was. He curled his claws daintily around the woven chain, as if he was afraid of tearing right through it with an accidental prick, and then held the sparkling bauble aloft like he was utterly entranced by the soft gleam of it.

After a long, long moment of that near eerie silence and a pool of dread filling your belly that screamed you’d clearly fucked up in some way (overstepped some weird, Siren tradition. Accidentally insulted his father. Handed him a bad luck omen on a string. Something), the Siren was twisting around to show you the back of his neck. He held up the woven chain so it draped along his shoulder blades, and he pointedly shook the ends at you.

When you just gaped back in shock, he turned to sneer over his shoulder at you and jabbed a claw at his throat, then the necklace, then you, then his throat again. Which, oh. Oh! That—that you could do.

So you reached out to pluck the ends of the grass-woven thread from his talons and he immediately shifted around again to make himself comfortable. Curling his tail firmly against the sand with his plum-lined fins spread out in all their glory like a spill of purple ink along the shoreline. He set his shoulders square and firm, and looked straight ahead with that same, queer sort of focus to him as before.

You tied the ends of the necklace in a bow against his nape, making sure it was securely fastened in place and not snagging any of the softer, shorter hairs at the back of his neck. Once it’d been fussed with to his liking, he turned back around and stared you down until you could feel goosebumps prickling up all along your spine. You wanted to meekly tell him that it was just sea glass. Just a little trinket you’d found in the sand that you’d thought was pretty enough that he might like to have it. But the words died on your tongue. They felt wrong somehow. And you’d put your foot in your mouth plenty of times throughout your life, but this definitely felt like it would have been the biggest boot of all.

“…You like it?” you tried instead, because that sentiment at least seemed less like something that was ready to clog up your throat.

The Siren nodded, firm, his eyes still drilling into yours with that unnerving level of focus.

You coughed into your fist and awkwardly attempted to shift away to give yourself a bit of room, and—Huh. When had his tail come up to wrap around your leg? That made running away a bit inconvenient. You’d just have to try and wriggle your way out and hope he would take mercy on your far inferior musculature, and—

There was a poke at your hip. Tap, tap, tap. One, two, three. And you glanced back up at him with a pinched frown, confused.

The Siren pointed to a scrawl in the sand. Tap, tap, tap.

Acceptable.

You gawked, and then swallowed a laugh so fast it nearly choked you. Because he was still himself, wasn’t he? No matter what. Sassy, asshole fish. Gods, you were going to miss him.

You wiped at the bubbling, giggling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and reached out to pat at his tail in good humor.

“I hope you find your happy ending,” you beamed, and meant it.

The Siren just looked at you with one of his familiar, lemon-sour puckers. He pointedly reached up to flick at the necklace around his throat, like that had anything to do with him finding his family again at all. Like it wasn’t just some silly trinket you’d gifted him in hopes that maybe one day he could look back fondly on the little human that he’d found himself stranded with. To not just forget you outright. To make your fleeting presence in his life something tangible, rather than just a mess of already fading scars and memories that would too easily be swept away in the depths of the sea.

“At least it’s acceptable,” you said finally around your giggling, and he huffed at you in a way that almost looked fond. You stood from the sand and brushed the mess of grit and salt off your pant legs. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll teach you some nicer words tonight. So you can give me a real compliment next time.”

There was spray of water all along your back from where he’d no doubt dove back into the shallows behind you and walloped you with his fins to the best of his ability. And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be bothered by it at all.

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[2knightt]

not necessarily a request but who (out of the greasers/curtis gang) do you think handles spice the best

i’ve never gotten an ask like this omg i think i’ve reached peak fame !!!! <3

—we’re going from best to worst on who can handle spice!

1. two-bit mathews

i feel like he can HANDLE spice. he’s the one guy on tiktok that shoves all the hot things he can get his hands on to eat it all at once. GIVE THIS MAN PLUTONIUM 9 AND HE’LL DRINK IT LIKE WATERRRR!!! spice connoisseur, dare i say.

2. steve randle

i believe he grew up in a household that had a cupboard of pure spices. steve’s the type of guy to eat those chicken burgers people sign forms for and come out fine. but sometimes he cannot handle spice. but that’s only like once every 6 months.

3. johnny cade

johnny cade has a higher tolerance but still can’t handle like those sandwiches you have to sign a waiver to eat. like he’ll eat something that most people are dying after one bite and only his eyes will water with the occasional cough.

4. sodapop curtis

him and steve used to eat hot things for fun, so i imagine it built his tolerance!! but not by much. he eats hot takis without a reaction but anything higher than it—he’s coughing so hard

5. darry curtis

i imagine he COULD handle it well in theory, but in practice? HELL NO!! darry could build his tolerance quickly if he tried, but he doesn’t bother. i don’t think darry would even likes hot things tbh

6. ponyboy curtis

coughs and immediately starts crying after biting into a hot cheeto. peak white boy teenage behaviour. curly downs spicy things like it’s nothing, so he tries to convince ponyboy to eat some. tried it once, and he swears he seen heaven.

7. dallas winston

don’t even bring pepper in his vicinity. he’s the guy that needs milk on standby whenever he eats anything other than salt. WILL NEVER EAT ANYTHING HOT.

[nixotene]

Kind of in awe over how similar the actors for tua seem to be to their characters (in interviews at least) so take this with a grain of salt. I just think it’s cool how the casting directors seemed to find the perfect actors to play the roles, both looks and personality wise.

Master list of details I’ve found they share with their characters ig lol

Luther/Tom: loves working out and apparently does his learning while working out (cut to scene of Luther doing push-ups while reading). He’s a big softy and loves bringing the group together. He’s always there to boost his fellow actors self esteem.

Diego/David: Acts big and boisterous but is actually very invested in how others perceive him. Wants to be seen as the cool macho one but (not so) secretly has a heart of gold. He also seems to be the one they’re most likely to lovingly bully. Also dated Ritu (Lila’s actress) but kept the relationship as hidden as possible.

Ritu/Lila: she laughs to hide her true emotions. She overall tries hard to hide her true emotions. Again, secretly dated David and were only found out by fans through their families. Hate to say this one but seemed to break up due to events of s4 (just speculation as they stopped following each other/deleted photos off their socials a little before the season came out which likely means issues while filming it).

Allison/Emmy: cares a lot about her self image. Is a famous actor. I mean, they all are but like she really holds herself as one in interviews. She has a very refined actor way of answering questions while still allowing herself to be fun. Honestly hard to tell if she’s like Allison because I can’t tell how she’s like off screen, which is a good thing. She does often refer to the others in sibling/family terms which is so sweet.

Klaus/Robert: always saying the most unhinged and out there things. Constantly barefoot. He’s the glue that seems to hold them together and always knows how to make light of a situation through use of his quirky humour. I don’t know how watching the final scene together would have gone without him. Also appears to be a drug connoisseur.

Five/Aidan: very quiet until he needs to say something. He seems to very much be an old soul in a kids body. I remember in an interview on how they handled shooting the final scene and he mentioned he didn’t cry until he was alone in his trailer because he takes awhile to process things like that. He just seems like a very thoughtful person.

Ben/Justin: kinda sassy but in the way that you just love him more. The others (especially David) seem to love to bug him constantly. I love this bc Ben and Diego do seem to have been close before Ben died. He enjoys his alone time and solitude. He is soft spoken yet sassy. Honestly feels like he acts like a mix between umbrella Ben and sparrow Ben which I love.

Viktor/Elliot: he’s pretty introverted and doesn’t speak much unless prompted. Just overall a sweetheart that doesn’t want any trouble. He’s also a writer. Also tramsgemder

[dehemetera]

Omg I can’t believe I am actually posting her. Pls enjoy my precious oc and her wardrobe

Below you can find all the head canons I wrote so far about her, the relationship she has with her squad and with the other significant captains/lieutenants of the Gotei 13

Mira Komamura

General head canons

‌originally from the 4th squad ( vet section) on her own request as she doesn't really like to throw hands.

was assigned to captain Komamura strict medical crew when almost no one knew about his real appearance; specifically, she was tasked with providing emotional support for Sajin's social anxiety.

‌”Captain!? How did you dare to hide that lovely snoot for such a long time?! "

yes, she was basically his emotional support puppy.

as it happens very often, Sajin grew fond for his emotional support puppy and decided to adopt her ( literally) as his brand new sister, then insisted to move her to the 7th.

western origins ( abuses this 🤌🏼 while talking ).

fav animal: humpback whale.

fav food: eats almost everything, watch your hands. Really, this girl is a few snacks away from being your best friend. But if she had to pick one, it'll probably be french fries, no dressing, just salt.

‌fav colour : cold hues in general, blue/green/ purple.

likes stars. Like a whole lot. You give her something with stars on, she's gonna love it. She hoards things with stars on it. She doodles them on everything at hand. When friends are sad, she scribbles a star on the palm of their hand.

‌" you're now under the sign of the good vibes star. You can now enjoy the rest of your day. You're welcome."

now imagine her doing this on Captain Zaraki's hand and Iba's cold sweats thinking how to tell the poor Sajin about his adopted sister's premature departure.

the good vibes star must work thou, cause Kenpachi just patted her head like she was a puppy and walked away. Iba thanked whatever god was listening at that moment.

sassy AF

sarcasm native speaker.

cracks 2.000.000 dirty jokes in between three regular words.

must focus not to drop inconvenient comments during each Captains/ lieutenant meetings.

looks like a black cat personality at the beginning.

turns into a weird dancing parrot when comfortable around someone.

has a ridiculous attention span.

world of the living connoisseur ( western side). Spent several decades studying it by living among living people.

terrible traditional swordsmanship skills.

got Jedi Lightsaber classes on Earth and actually developed a pretty efficient fighting style; ‌Iba is genuinely confused and slightly concerned about that but as long as it works...

likes to sing, not very good at that but still on the average ( usually makes silly dances while singing to underline the lyrics).

pretty skilled belly dancer ( which at some extent she uses in controlling her shikai) but definitely won't dance in public cause she's too shy for that .

very body positive about other people, excessively critic about her own body.

very good painter. She mostly paint with her hands (" advanced kindergarten art skills") but could also use sponges, pieces or paper or rags, leaves, basically everything but a brush;‌most of the times she just likes to make little silly doodles.

then she turns those doodles into stickers and spread them across the seireitei.

Byakuya Kuchiki knows the Shinigami women's association held a secret meeting in his mansion when he finds small stickers with sassy quotes around the house.

take her to the water park; She just loves it.

beach girl

just loves to hang out in the water

‌of course this is the perfect excuse for captain Hirako to make jokes about her liking to be wet

she never denied the statement. 👍🏼

excellent resistence to alcohol. Hard to get drunk.

when that does happen though, she just unleashes all the power or her sass/ sarcasm/ unhinged comments

this usually leads to pretty amusing express stand up comedy shows where she eventually ends up oversharing something she would've preferred to keep for herself

pretends not to remember anything if the topic is pointed out the day after

About the 7th squad

she was gladly welcomed as lieutenant by almost all the soldiers due to her sincere support towards former Captain Komamura

Those affectionate soldiers appreciate her chill attitude prone to jokes and fun as a good balance to Iba’s serious demeanour

She introduced music during workouts and trainings. Music from the west, of course

Now witness the fierce 7th brigade soldiers casually humming Bad Romance while doing their daily chores.

Since Mira’s office is the coziest and most decorated once, Iba started throwing Shinigami Men’s Association meetings inthere

For Iba’s birthday, Mira decided to gift him a new HQ for his meetings by renovating an old, unused warehouse in the barracks, asking Ikkaku some help to edible and renovate the old furniture

Connections

Sajin Komamura : regardless of his full on canine appearance he is still officially her brother by previous adoption. Mira still takes good care of him, she has the most luxurious dog bed in her office for him to stop by. She also got him one of those speaking buttons board humans give their dogs to communicate.

Tetsuzaemon Iba : is definitely like a dad. All of their interactions have the warm yet bickering feeling of a father/daughter dynamic, including: communication issues, dad being jealous and over protective of his precious daughter when men buzz around, not understanding slangs. Mira signed up for Iba’s fan club to show support to her dad.

Shunsui Kyoraku : calls her Mira-chan and likes to invite her to drink together. He pays great attention to her drunken monologues as they’re usually pretty straightforward and accurate analysis of the current state of the Seireitei. He definitely trusts her guts and intuition in picking up the overall morale of the squads. Mira also signed up for his fan club ‘cause he’s the big boss and deserves support. Nanao Ise firmly oppose this.

Rose Otoribashi: is the only one whom has ever seen Mira dance. They sometime shares music afternoons with Rose playing music and her using it to practice her dance. They have a very respectful and delicate bond revolving on mutual arts appreciation.

Izuru Kira: it took them some time to get along due to Kira being really private person. Now they’re kinda cool about each other and Mira often tries to cheer him up telling him the whole hole in the chest thing is metal AF.

Shinji Hirako: this man bribed Mira in joining his fan club by offering her a bag of weed infused gummy bears. It worked. They operate at the highest level of shenanigans and communicate almost exclusively by flirting. Bombastic side eyes darting across the captain’s council room during meetings when they know the other one would be just about dropping the sassiest sh*t that would cost them the career. Regularly hangs out together both in the Soul Society and on Earth. Part of their flirt jokes revolves around the fact they would gladly date each other (but never actually did that).

Momo Hinamori: was the first to show Mira support when she was promoted to lieutenant. Therefore, Mira loves this girl and brings her gifts, treats and loves spending time together for a tea time. They share a heavy betrayal trauma and do their best to support each other in their healing journey.

Renji & Rukia: if Iba is her dad, Renji is her bro and Rukia is the sister in law you actually like more than your own brother. The three of them have a weekly “world of the living pop culture” themed night to binge watch series and movie marathons. Burping competitions between Mira and Renji are mandatory and Rukia is the judge.

Matsumoto Ranjiku: these two can love and hate each other depending on the mood and the topic. Sometimes they look like besties laughing together and mutually complimenting , ten minutes later they’re fighting over something, usually Matsumoto habit of exploiting men using her beauty.

Kenpachi Zaraki: these two really get along for reasons. Mira actually feels safe around him cause who would ever dare to fuck around close to him? She also thinks he’s illegally hot but never dared to voice that, not she would ever try to approach him with intentions. She just likes to fantasize about that amazing mass of wonder. On Kenpachi’s side, he likes to have a new brat messing around him without being scared, it feels heartwarming and nostalgic, sometimes feeds her the same candies he used to buy for Yachiru. Since Mira’s birthday is right after Kenpachi’s, she usually shows up at the 11th barracks with a cake to share to celebrate both their birthdays.

Ikkaku Madarame: for the better time they’ve been knowing each other, he just passively tolerated her, enjoying her little shows from time to time but never payed too much attention to the new lieutenant of the 7th squad. Then Mira came to ask his help in renovating the warehouse for Iba’s birthday gift and since the process took quite some time, they had the chance to spend time together, getting to know each other during those long crafty nights of recycling furniture. He is now heavily crushing on her and gets a little shaky and mildly flustered when she’s around, with Yumichika largest amusement. Mira has always appreciated her fellow colleague and was glad to have the chance to build up some kind of relationship with him but she’s genuinely confused by his friendly yet shifty and sometimes awkward behaviour towards her (she’s not good in getting the hint).

Yumichika Ayasegawa: oh the tea they spill. They don’t meet very often but when they do the amount of information they share can compete with the finest Seieitei’s intelligence. Sometimes they go shopping together. Yumichika tries his best to create opportunities for Ikkaku to be there when Mira comes over.

If you managed to read this far, thank you 💕

Some captains/ lieutenants are missing to the list but I already have them written, maybe I will add them in some future post.

Definitely expect more drawings about Mira’s adventures. I have more on the making (like about her zampakuto and other stuff.

I hope you enjoyed this little piece of my imagination,

✨comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ✨

[lilapplesheadcannons]

MDZS cooks, rated by Jiang Yanli, the Queen of soup.

Wei Wuxian: abomination unto the kitchen gods! Eating his food is just the beginning of your suffering because rest assured, it'll hurt more coming out.

Lan Wangji: Actually decent at making simple dishes. Stickler for recipes.

Jin ZiXuan: Messes up the spice drawer and substitutes sugar for salt. Get him out of her kitchen!

Jiang Cheng: Elaborate, fancy recipes. Leaves a mountain of dishes in the sink.

Nie MingJue: Stress baker. Makes excuisite croissants, thanks to his upper arm strength.

Nie HuaiSang: Self-declared taste-tester. Will finish off an entire pot just tasting. Persona non grata in the kitchen.

Lan Xichen: Partner in Sunday baking class. Tends to slightly overmix cake batters and make dense spongecakes.

Jin GuangYao: Doesn't cook, but has a palate that should be preserved for posterity. Can tell all the ingredients in a recipe from one taste and recommend whatever is needed to fix it.

Jin Ling: Ruined the microwave trying to cook an egg.

Lan SiZhui: Takes after both his parents. As in, can cook simple recipes but tends to overspice.

Lan JingYi: Would rather live on takeouts and cup noodles.

Ouyang Zizhen: That child will probably get kidnapped one day, lured by a piece of cake. Can't boil water.

Jiang Fengmian: Actually knows his way around the kitchen.

Yu ZiYuan: Can toast bread and slather jam on it. That's pretty much it.

Lan Qiren: Excuse me? Why cook yourself when you can pay someone else to do it?

Wei ChangZe: King of barbecue. Has a secret spice mix that he hides from everyone.

Cangse Sanren: Can't believe she's saying this, but actually agrees with goatee Lan.

Wen Qing: Coffee connoisseur. Hasn't bothered to explore the rest of the food pyramid.

Wen Ning: Master Chef material.

[tozettastone]

@waffliesinyoface okay, let's go! (I agree on Itachi's sweet tooth honestly.)

Itachi — He likes sweet food. He'll order something you didn't even know was real, like a lavender latte, or a smoked salted vanilla frappe. "Does your drink even have coffee in it?" you may ask, dubiously eyeing what appears to be cup of lightly flavoured simple syrup piled high with freshly whipped cream. Yes, yes it does. Itachi is the tiredest person on this team, and that's including the guy who is just 6 dead bodies in a trench coat. Do not order him decaf.

Kisame — He's pretty easygoing. He'll take whatever, and then while the barista is making it he'll tell them that sharks can have milk because some of them don't have umbilical cords. He consumed the milk shed from his mother's uterus lining, like a great white, after eating his siblings. How fun. Sir, here's your coffee.

Kakuzu — Kakuzu is a pile of stolen hearts and tentacles condensed into roughly human shape. He can't taste the coffee, but his hearts respond to the caffeine. He will have whatever option comes with unlimited refills.

Hidan — Orders something new every time and hates it every time. He doesn't like bitter flavours. He has not yet made the connection between "coffee" and "bitter notes" in the formal way that would permit him to stop trying it. He complains about the taste every time. Bonus: caffeine only affects him for about 2.5 minutes.

Konan — Konan never had coffee growing up (she didn't have a lot of things growing up!) so now it's kind of a novelty. She's mostly a tea drinker but when she has coffee she takes whatever variation of 1 part coffee and 2 parts milk is easiest. She's not a connoisseur of latte foam vs cappuccino froth, etc., etc. She likes to watch the rain fall, dry and cosy in her oversized coat, while her coffee steams gently into the humid air over the village.

Pein — Nagato doesn't like to put extra fluids into his bodies because they're dead and if you alter the water content on the inside it can be very hard to maintain them in the state of preservation he prefers. He watches Konan drink, though.

Sasori — Sasori is an arty bitch, but not a "with lavender smoked honey," kind of wanky art bitch. He's a traditionalist. Espresso. With sparkling water. The tinier the demitasse, the better.

Deidara — Deidara wants a fancy sweet little treat but he's still young enough to get mad that he doesn't drink serious grown up drinks. He'll order something black and bitter and then sulk about it. What he really wants is exactly the kind of fancy and ridiculous coffee drink Itachi orders, but he's already set himself against this and mocked Itachi about it. Watch him toss back his coffee and slam the empty cup onto the table like he's doing shots of bad tequila.

Zetsu — A cafe macchiato. This is a trap because a "spotted," coffee is either all milk spotted with a bit of coffee (which is what the writer understands to be common in America) or all coffee spotted with a dab of milk (common in other parts of the world). Either way, when you serve it to him, the order will be wrong according to at least one side of his body. ;—;

Tobi — Drinks his coffee mixed 1:1 with sweetened condensed milk. Is the sweet tooth genetic?

(Honorary) Orochimaru — Orochimaru is also a pretentious arty bitch, but in his case, his order isn't intended to communicate artsy-ness about himself to the outside observer. It's instead carefully calculated to communicate that he's a snob and to stress out the barista tasked with making it for him. He wants your single origin in a double ristretto with a 3/4 cup of silky milk. If you make a latte and just don't fill it up all the way, he will know. No, really. He'll know.

[teaboot]

Go-to slurpee flavour? I’m a swamp water connoisseur myself but it’s gotta have whatever Coke/Pepsi flavour they’ve got somewhere in there.

Nectarine was probably my favourite, right now the best they have is pink grapefruit. Rootbeer or coke flavors are reserved for VERY SPECIFIC "Skin still tacky from salt water, sand from the beach in my shoes, swinsuit drying out slowly on a damp towel in a hot car" mood.

[evolutionsvoid]

After a long day of preparing the fields, working the mines or fighting in a war that seemingly has no end, nothing sounds better than a good meal! All that labor really gets the appetite going, and hot food on a full table would be a blessed sight to any soul! And now with a war going on and supply lines disrupted, food has become more important than ever before! So lets see what's on the menu:

1. Hair Bulbs - Collected from hair fields or hair farms, pulled straight from the ground! These fleshy pods are at the end of harvested strands, and removal of them is necessary to use the keratin stalk. These bulbs are oily and meaty, often roasted either whole or in slices. They can also be squeezed for sebum oil, which can be used for cooking, lubrication or protective coatings.

2. Chitin Flour - A staple in baking, this substance is made from the pulverized exoskeletons of arthropods. As long as the shells contain chitin, any insect will do. Most of the time, chitin flour is made from all the leftover pieces of a hunted arthropod, as a way to use every piece of a kill. The flour you find in most villages is made up of an assortment of different species all ground up and mixed together. The finer stuff you find in high end bakeries are made from one species only and from specific parts, as food snobs claim that combining multiple sources into one muddles the flavor and makes poor quality flour. To be fair, using one species tends to preserve their exoskeleton color in the powder, while mixing usually results in the same drab brown.

3. Kumis - The star of any bar or tavern, kumis is an alcohol made from milk. A popular drink for any, its flavor is dependent on its source, as kumis can be made from any creature that lactates. While milk from beasts is often the common and cheaper option, many say that human breast milk makes the finest kumis. The demand and love for both milk and kumis is what led to the creation of milk maids, those who have trained their bodies to make copious amounts of the stuff. Popular bars typically have known milk maids under their employ, and pride themselves on having the pure stuff. In some cities with a vibrant nightlife, there are famous milk maids in some establishments whose product is widely sought after by fans and kumis connoisseurs, as they specially monitor their diet and lifestyle to produce their iconic flavor.

4. Louse Egg Kebab - A common food in villages that are near hair fields. The eggs of the Field Louse is harvested by taking the whole strand, as the secretions used to glue them to the keratin is too obnoxious to deal with. While trimming the hair can release the eggs, most folk go the simple route of stiffening the strand and then cooking it over a fire. The eggs are then eaten straight off the stalk, and the rest is discarded. A favorite for travelers passing through hair fields.

5. Eye Stalk - A fleshy growth that produces eye-like fruit. These are either eaten as is, or cooked into eye jelly. Belief is that they help improve eyesight, though some folk dismiss that due to their lack of Tears. Since Tears are an unofficial humor of the eye organa, folk would imagine that anything truly eye affecting would be tied to the chilling fluid. Regardless, the fruit is still pretty tasty, and the jelly is a popular spread for breads.

6. Clot Cakes - A baked treat that is made from copious amounts of clotted blood. Typically made by mixing clots and chitin flour, it is a dense loaf with a sharp flavor. Its heaviness and ability to survive travel well makes it a good ration for those on the move. "Clot Cake" is also a derogatory term for the Crour.

7. Bile Salt - Made from specially dried Yellow Bile, this substance of cleansing and purification can also be used for cooking. Its addition to a dish adds a pleasant pop and burn. It is a favored seasoning for travelers and nomads, as it serves as both a flavor enhancer and disinfectant for wounds. If used on an animal bite, you are sure to get the common quip of: "oh, did they complain to the chef?"

8. Black Crust Oven - A crude cooking technique that involves molding thick Black Bile clay around a piece of meat. This giant wad is then cooked directly in a fire, where the clay hardens and the flesh is roasted. When done, the solid chunk is fished out and cracked open. The meat inside is infused with Black Bile as well as a thin dark crust. Is said to give it a nice earthy flavor. A meal for the busy man, it can be chucked into the fire and left to cook as they work elsewhere. And then when you get back, a hot meal is waiting for you!

9. Termites - A food either collected from the wild or harvested from termite farms, these are the go-to whenever one needs a boost of Black Bile in their system. The majority eaten are workers and soldiers, as their dry roasted bodies are either enjoyed as is for a snack or sprinkled onto a dish for crunch. Queens are a rare treat, as harvesting them deals a hefty blow to a colony. When a Queen is served as a dish, it is a meal to be shared and for showing off. Their flesh is said to boost mental capacity, and it is an iconic dish at scholarly banquets.

10. Chewing Fat - Strips of fat taken from a beast that are often considered too poor for eating. Rather than cooking them into tallow, one may take these thin layers and chew on them. While by no means a meal or even a substantial snack, it is an enjoyed sensation of gnawing on these chewy strips. They can be dusted or infused with different flavors, and are a fun treat for kids. In war times, this enjoyable gimmick has taken a more grim purpose. Due to issues with food supply, hunger is rampant in the war torn regions, and these strips of fat taken from the rare kill are used to help curb these pains. It is believed chewing helps fool the body into thinking it is eating, and the act of doing so makes the stomach growl less.

11. Clot Shot - A drink made of fermented venom and a dose of blood that has congealed into a clot. The venom and crimson patty are downed in one go. A favored shot for warriors and hardened folk, who feel that the burning venom and meaty burst of Blood helps invigorate them and get them into the fighting spirit. Some folk cut up the inside of their mouth so that the fermented venom can seep inside, allowing the effect to be even stronger. Be warned, as getting too much of a dose can knock you out cold, which is the opposite of what you want when going into battle.

12. Finger Fungus - An edible fungus found growing in damp dark places, often crevices or buried under leaf litter. Their growths give the impressions of hands reaching up, and horror stories tell of ones that can drag you down into the earth. However, they are just a simple fungus that is used in a variety of dishes, with folk normally cutting off the fingers and leaving the rest so it can regrow.

13. Scab Crackers - A thin crisp baked food that is made from pulverized flesh and fluids that has been dried. These crackers have very low nutritional value, as they are often made from the worst quality supplies. However, they can last a very long time and they help fill the stomach, thus they have become infamous rations for many travelers and soldiers. Though they get the job done, these crackers are always met with groans whenever they are the sole star on the day's menu.

14. Oliphant Gizzard - A prized cut from hunted oliphants, these organs are how they grind up solid food that they have inhaled. This tough piece of meat requires lots of marinating and cooking to help breakdown its chewy nature. Despite the amount of work needed to prepare it, it is considered a delicacy. Eating it is said to help with memory, with some famed dishes claimed to allow one to remember snippets of a past life. As one always knows: Oliphants never forget.

15. Madman's Tongue - The fleshy appendage taken off of an Arimakki Hara, the reason why anyone would want it is a mystery. Arimakki flesh is tainted with Feverish Sweat and considered inedible. However, there is a way to "cook" it so that consuming it doesn't destroy your body. Due to the intense sickly heat their form produces, Arimakki meat must be "cooked with cold," immersing it in a pot of chilled icy water. This tongue has been freeze cooked with Tears and skewered. Eating it causes intense hallucinations that can last for hours. Some claim it is the gateway drug to joining the Arimakki, as eating too many of them can make you start thinking like them. For obvious reasons, consuming Arimakki flesh is strictly forbidden by the Church.

16. Blood Meal - A simple powder made from dried Blood, used as a spice or added into meals to help with one's Blood levels. Where this crimson dust really shines is for vampires, who find it vital for a Blood fix on the go. Pouring this into water is their version of a quick crude meal, and it is far easier to carry around than the humor. If you ever see anyone eating this powder as is by the handful, then you know they got a Blood problem.

17. Gourd Maggot - A larval bug that buries itself in the soil and absorbs nutrients from its surroundings. Targets more fleshy regions, where it can get more meatier soil. Pulling them out is incredibly difficult due to their swollen bodies and backward facing barbs. Most folk dig them out so that they can be cooked up and eaten, but some people with something to prove insist on yanking them out by hand. Typically done to show off, as there is literally nothing to gain by this outside of letting others see your strength. And often it winds up with people seeing you fail, as they are, indeed, very hard to remove by hand.

18. Clogged Popper - An appetizer made from a sheet of skin that has been stuffed with meat, veggies and fat then bundled. Cooked up til they are bloated and sizzling, then popped into the mouth for a wonderful flavor explosion. Very juicy, have a nice burst to them and the varieties are endless. Some like to categorize them by the use of white meat or dark meat.

19. Vein Eel - A boneless creature that slithers through ancient veins and underground fluids. Fished up to be cooked and enjoyed. What fluid it has been immersed in recently affects the flavor and quality, thus folk get picky on where they are harvested. Be wary of its bite though, as it has sharp teeth and an incredible grip.

20. Phallus Clam - A bivalve that is frequently harvested, deshelled and eaten. Due to bivalves being associated with Milk and their appearance similar to genitalia, species like these are said to be aphrodisiacs and help with fertility. For males, the size of the clam is said to determine its potency, with the notion of bigger is better. Thus, they have been over harvested by eager lovers and local populations are pretty much wiped out. What remains are more aggressive and dangerous species, making the collection of these popular dishes far more difficult.

21. Leaky Spleen Mushroom - A dripping fungus famed for its spleen-like appearance and secretions. This black liquid is compared to Black Bile, and is said to share similar properties. This inky goo is collected and used as a cooking ingredient or spread, while the fungus itself is a fine substitution for offal. Mushrooms like this are why Black Bile is often associated with fungi, even more so with the fact that termites enjoy fungus as well.

22. Adipose Fin - A large blobby fish known for its gelatinous meat, as it is equated to fat. With the other name of "fatfish," they are harvested for "sea tallow," or to be processed into flammable fuels. Due to the fatty nature of their flesh and the fact that they are bottom feeders, eating them as is is not typical. Children get a whole lot of fun from poking and slapping this wobbly fish before it is prepared. Best step in before they start throwing it at each other.

23. Brain Curry - A popular dish, served with any kind of brain, be it beast or even man. Claimed to be a soothing dish, particularly for those with restless or aching minds. Human brain curry is incredibly rare and often frowned upon, but the rich and superstitious believe this to be the most potent of them all. Some folk have even targeted high up Philosophers to get their incredible brains for a forbidden meal.

24. Ambrosia - Referred to as “Food of the Gods,” it is a rare holy food made with Ichor. Due to the toxic strength of the Godly Fluid, it is used in small, carefully measured amounts. Consuming it is said to cleanse the body of all sins and aid in restoring balance in the body’s humors. Those who eat it feel a rush of strength and energy, making one feel like a god. However the process to make it is incredibly complicated and the amount of Ichor used is extremely precise. Too little makes its effects nonexistent, but too much can outright kill the consumer. Saved only for high ranking members of the church or for wealthy “donors.” Rumor claims that the highest members of the church eat nothing but Ambrosia, which would explain their long lives.

25. Stuffed Snails - A dish for any fellow looking to replenish their Phlegm levels, snails are considered the food for wise men. Seasoned and stuffed, then served with a fine buttery sauce, you would have to search far and wide to find someone who doesn't enjoy this meal! Usually made with smaller species of snail, as they are easier to raise in larger numbers. Bigger specimens make for quite the feast, but this dining experience often does away with the etiquette and fine utensils that comes with regular stuffed snails. Some folk get too enamored with the delicious bounty before them and practically crawl into the shell itself to devour its contents.

26. Jellyfish Noodles - The tentacles of a jellyfish harvested and cut into fine noodles, a popular dish for users of Yellow Bile. Though they possess a slight burn, the noodles themselves lack a strong flavor, and thus make them good in a variety of dishes. Some folk skip the noodle step of jellyfish prep and stuff their bell with meats and seasonings. Fans of jellyfish dishes demand a stronger burn, as they develop a tolerance over time. One should be wary of what species is used in their meal, as some recipes make for a dish that could scar if you are not ready for its bite.

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I know this kind of stuff isn't what folk are really interested in, and it isn't that exciting of a piece, but I thought it was fun to think of food and what people would eat in this world. It's also a part of me trying to express the fact that people live in this place, and outside of the war and horrors, this is still a world that has a civilization and folk living their lives.

[danieyells]

Next Character Cards:

Auction!Taiga

Exquisite Taste (jp: 「噛み殺した渇望の遺物」 "Relic Of A Craving To Bite To Death")

Auction!Romeo

Ruby Connoisseur (jp: 「艶やかに散りゆく紅」 "Glamorous Deep Red Dispersal")

Auction!Ritsu

Lawful Plunder (jp: 「司法こそが我が至宝」 "Administering Justice Is My Greatest Treasure")

Next Warding Cards:

Walking Hazard (jp: 「エンカウント注意」 "Encounter Warning")

Audacious Sleuth (jp: 「自信満々の尾行」 "Self-Assured Pursuit")

Challenging The Boss (jp: 「ボスへの挑戦」 "Challenging The Boss")

First Necktie (jp: 「はじめてのネクタイ」 "First Necktie")

Divine Dialogue (jp: 「付喪神との交信」 "Tsukumogami's Correspondence")

Next Cosmic Bond:

Varied Struggles (jp: 「それぞれの苦戦」 "Respective Struggles")

Next Unique Sprites: (does not mean there will be cards for them!) (i will not have access to these until I can see them in game!)

kaito_halloween

jiro_halloween

zenji_halloween

romeo_halloween

As always, take my Japanese translation with a grain of salt because I'm not great at it, and remember that so far all limited gachas have come back! So don't go crazy spending even if you don't get the one(s) you want this time around! They will surely be back!!

I wonder what the halloween costumes are gonna be. . .and if this means we're skipping next month's update so the Halloween release will be more timely. In any case, looking forward to tonight!!

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

what do you think the chains favorite breakfast foods are (if they eat breakfast)

I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH ANSWERING THIS AND MY PHONE DIED AND DELETED EVERYTHING I HAD WRITTEN, DEATH AND SORROW AND DESPAIR.

Okay I'm good now.

ANYWAYS, I split you ask into two sections: first, their favorite food ever if they can get their hands on it, the second what they like to eat on the road. And then a final unhinged rant at the bottom about the one thing about teenage boys/young men and their food that I'll never understand: Bacon.

Legend--I have a feeling that he likes sweets. Specifically, waffles with whipped cream and berries. They're a little burnt, but Ravio made them for him, so he'll pretend he doesn't notice (and grows to like them better that way). On the road, he'll go for coffee/tea (he's not picky) if one of the others make it, or nothing at all.

Hyrule--does he have a favorite breakfast food? Food isn't very stable where he comes from--Legend and Wild would spoil him so much in regard of expanding his palate. But I imagine that something like a fried mixture of beef/sausage, vegetables, and a starch (perhaps an even poorer version of an already poor person food Shepherd's Pie, perhaps? it could be a breakfast food) would be a sort of filling, tasty, and easy to procure/make/preserve food that he'd like. On that note, I would say something simple, easy to get and preserve, and hardy would be his go to breakfast on the road--maybe meat jerky.

Wild--Also a sweets person. Fruit cake, cinnamon rolls, frosted cupcakes, basically all the little delicacies he could get at a dumb party 100 years ago, he ain't picky, it's for breakfast and it's fueling a day long sugar high. On the road he, unlike the other Links, can be pretty creative with his breakfasts, and he likes his spice as well. So, I think he'd like Meaty rice balls.

Four--direct this question to someone else please. He has four voices in his head fighting to answer right now, and none of them agree. I surely dont know if he doesn't.

Time--Pancakes and farm-fresh scrambled eggs and toast with jam. Malon makes it for him. What can I say. On the road he is a habitual coffee drinker, he wouldn't be functioning in the mornings without it. But he'll also take a poached egg if he has the time (heh).

Warrior--unlike Time who is a habitual coffee drinker, he is a coffee connoisseur. He likes the breakfasts they serve at the castle--a lot of meats and fruits, expensive, and on top of it all, well plated. Not to say that he can't eat simply--he was in a war, mind you--just that he prefers not to. On the road, he strikes me as the kind that would drink those tasteless quick oats (y'know you just add water, shake and go?) and also be very vocal about much time (heh) it's saving him (being none). I don't know what the Hyrule equivalent of those are.

Twilight--our favorite country boy. I think he likes a true southern breakfast. Ham and pan-fried potatoes and eggs over-easy, with a side of cheesy grits and sausage biscuits and gravy like Uli used to make for him (I HC this man has a black hole of a stomach, out of all the Links). On the road he'll inhale a boiled egg or two (salted and peppered if he's feeling fancy) that Wild made for him. I also head canon that Twilight likes tea with an intensity. And not only sweet tea, but like, ALL of the teas. He gets obsessive. I literally have in my detail/subplot tracking documents for BDOR the following entry underneath chapter 8--Tea: "Twilight’s cure to Wild’s voice is tea. His cure to life’s woes is tea."

Wind--whatever his grandma is making, probably with seafood involved. I've had a crab-spinach-egg casserole for breakfast before, it was good, so I'll give him that. On the road, I can see him packing a lot of bread and some meat (dried fish if he can get it).

Sky--This guy honestly has me stumped. Do those on Skyloft eat Loftwing eggs, or are they considered taboo? They have a lot of pumpkins around--do they incorporate them into their meals?@needfantasticstories you know a lot of Skyward Sword lore, bequeath me your wisdom. Anyways on the road he's a meat and bread person like Wind. Practical.

Now, for my rant about young men and their food quirks:

Bacon. Bacon, as I have witnessed, drives the most reasonable of men insane.

I just a few things to say about this. I have younger brothers, and I born witness to many male sleepover parties. I--as the resident nasty fe-male XD--have been (forced) to cook for them in the mornings. Set a pile of bacon in front of them (or really any meat, but I have found that bacon has the strongest affect) and they turn into WOLVES. They start to crowd around and stare as soon as they begin to smell it (which hey, give me space in the kitchen, please!), snatch it up before the grease even cools, and then retreat into their separate corners of the living room/kitchen and scarf it down, all while avoiding eye contact and projecting just how much they don't care about the bacon they're eating (perhaps so one of the others don't take notice and try to steal it). There's an odd little ritual/rules to the thing, too: for example, it's frowned upon to take more than three or four pieces at a time, there has to be enough for everyone, obviously; but if you finish a second and third serving before some poor sod stumbles in and gets himself a piece--why that is acceptable, even encouraged. But at all times, you could feel them watching each other, judging whether each person had taken acceptable amounts. 6 at once, I have determined, is veritably considered too much, as I have watched an entire group of mid-late teenage boys chase another through the house and outside for this crime of greed. Another thing was the presence of literally any other edible food. If there was anything else--eggs, fruit, even something like a few slices of unbuttered toast or coffee or juice sitting out, this reaction was largely tempered--even if none of the boys took the other foods, they would take a meager one or two pieces of bacon and be satisfied, perhaps reassured that other food was present and their hope of a filling breakfast was not in vain. Most, at that point they would restrain themselves from eating anything (other than their bacon tax) and wait so that everyone could eat together. But the mad scramble that occurs when there is bacon and only bacon in the kitchen (even if other things are cooking, nearly done, and visible to them) is otherworldly.

I never saw it with anything else, not eggs, not fruit, not even sausage or any other breakfast food. And it must be noted that I was exempt from their little ritual of judgement--perhaps as the only woman, or perhaps as the cook, I was allowed to take as much bacon as I liked from the pile, once the initial wave had attacked and retreated with their bounty (and the strips of bacon had cooled enough that mortal human hands such as my own could pick them up). And while they behaved like beasts, I was always very politely thanked for making breakfast once it was over and the frenzy had abated.

Anyways, your ask got me thinking about Malon making a pile of bacon for the boys, activating the beforehand undiscovered "PANIC! BACON!" mode in their brains, and just being utterly confused as they turn into animals. Just the boys descend, and then a few shouts of "Thanks, Malon!" drift in on the wind as they scatter like racoons with treasure, leaving an empty plate spinning behind them.

[lefarte]

omg hiiiiiiiiiii fellow funger connoisseur[leans on my bugatti, misses completely and falls into a bed to cash] ;]

anyway, may i ask for a moment of respite with August during termina? just a lil break in the bacchanalia. a moment of normalcy, like dinner 🙏

Yall,,,,,, I want that old man cannibal

Brown trout in the Vlata river are good and fat, but very fishy, so they go best with salt and herbs. An oven is the best, but in a pinch a spit will do just fine. You never knew a man could gut a fish so elegantly. August can use a knife like a fine instrument, and can keep a fire roaring even in the damp season. He splits it open, takes out the guts (“Would you like me to take the head off for you too, my dear?”) and uncerimoniously dumps them in the river. It goes up over the fire, he puts yarrow on it and something called “Česnek medvědí”.

“Are you trying to impress me?”

“No, no,” He chuckles. “I am just an old man with a hobby. That’s all.”

The fire is at a low purr like a cat. The sun has long since set. This part of the woods was unnaturally chilly, even compared to the city. You had been wandering westward for no particular reason and then got caught spinning around in circles. You survived three or four hours of this monotony by snacking on raw mushrooms (one of which gave you a tummy ache), until you saw a manmade knife slash on the side of a tree. You followed, and found another. You kept following, and here you are.

“What other hobbies do you have?” You ask. “Is that bow a hobby too?”

“It’s my occupation.” He pats the quiver on his hip. “I’m a… hunter by trade.”

You tilt your head. “Oh. There’s not many of those anymore.”

“Eh, no. But I do it because I love it.” He smiles.

He takes out a bottle of vodka and offers you a sip. It smells strongly. You shake your head. He gives you a shrug and takes a shot.

“I also saw you jumping from buildings.”

He nods sagely. “Did you like it?”

“…oh, so you are trying to impress me now…”

He has a nice deep chuckle that sounds pleasant to the ears. “The fish is done.”

You were borderline ravenous from the smell, so you perked up instantly. He cut you the most tender pieces, and ate the head and tail himself. You two ate with your hands, for lack of silverware. He seemed to watch you eat with fondness, even though your hair was ratty and your face tired.

He suddenly reaches out his hand. You flinch from the unexpected contact, but he makes a noise that’s almost… cooing at you.

“You have something on your face.” He takes his handkerchief up to your mouth, and dabs your lips gently. “I’m not supposed to be so fond of you, you know. I have a job to do. But you are so… cute.”

You lean into the warm touch. Afterwards, he sets the handkerchief in your hand. It is soft and embroidered with his name. “A memento.”

“I will have to go by the morning.” He says, quite suddenly. “You will probably never see me again.”

Your heart sinks. You don’t want to be alone in the deep woods, freezing and with an awful dry autumn wind. You don’t know how to get back to the city. You don’t want to. You’ve been chased, hungry, and beaten half to death all within the span of one day. It felt like you were here for years. It felt like you would be here for centuries more. You like the fire. It’s good and warm.

“I don’t want to,” You ball up your fists without even noticing. “It’s… cold.”

“I know, my dear.” He sighs. He wraps his big hands around you in a side hug. You realize just how big he is. His hands are calloused. Under the dinner jacket, he is muscular. “There’s quite a chill.”

He puts half of his jacket around you, so you’re sharing heat. You feel heat for the first time in a while, with warm food in your tummy and a bit of a blush.

“I’m a bit drunk,” he admits. “So I’ll just ask outright. I suppose you’re probably not used to sleeping on the grass, so you don’t suppose we could… cuddle up a bit. We wouldn’t want you catching a cold, now.”

You hesitate.

“You don’t have to say yes. If I’m being pushy, I apologize.”

“No, no, I’m just.. happy.”

He grins. “Good. That’s good.”

He lays down and sets his arm out, so you can use him as a pillow. He’s so gentle with you. He gives you a headpat before sleep. The night is still. You feel calm, good and calm, and your muscles relax. It’s good, it’s great even. He doesn’t snore, you hardly know if he slept at all. It’s not too long before you fall asleep. And as he said, in the morning, he was gone.

[guvmy]

KOTLC Favorite ice creams flavors!

Sophie-Rocky Road, I feel like Sophie was a sucker for chocolate and Rocky Road gives me Mallowmelt vibes, with it having marshmellows.

Fitz-Mint Chip, I think he'd like the fresh minty flavor and would hunt for the choclate chips like pirates digging for treasure with Biana (and Alvar before shit went down)

Keefe- Cookie's n Cream, seems like a guy with a huge sweet tooth

Biana- Green Tea, I feel like she'd want a nice calm earthy flavor to soothe her after all the shit going on

Tam- Chocolate, I feel like he'd have a basic ice cream flavor since it doesn't really matter that much too him.

Linh - Salted Caramel, especially sea salt, This girl also has a massive sweet tooth and indulges on any sweet food since that was her and Tam had least access to in Exilllium.

Marella- Mango Sorbet/Ice cream I feel like she'd like Sorbet more honestly but for the sake of the title, Ice cream. Its fruity, tropical and sunny, all stuff Marella would seem into (I was tempted to put Vanilla Ice cream for her but decided thats too basic for her.)

Maruca- Butter Pecan, she seems like a girl who'd like nuts (Pun unintended) Especially Pecans. I also imagine her family served something like Pecan Pie at holidays and had a secret family recipe of theirs.

Mr. Forkle...-dirt

Umber- Toffee, likes sweet syrupy tastes like Toffee,. No need for spoons since she has shadowflux! She also likes to let it melt a little so she can drink it like a soup.

Trix- Pumpkin pie, Im getting lazy atp so yeah. (wrote this after the rest of them but wanted umber and trix to be next to eachother)

Fintan- Vanilla, if his fossilized ass is even aware of icecream, this dude is every bit basic and if he does know about icecream, he probably has nostalgia of collecting snow and shredding fruits on it from the 3rd century

Gisela- Coffee, she wouldn't have much of a sweet tooth in my mind honestly

Alvar- Pistachio, preferably with chocolate chips. Much like Fitz...Erm he judges people and shops on how good their Pistachio Ice cream is since he a connoisseur on this flavor. Will down a whole tub of this actually.

Ruy- Strawberry, he's not much into icecream so anything will do but he does a small preference for Strawberry since its nice and refreshing adn he likes fruits with a tang.

(This hurt my fingers)