#counter-taste

[inkskinned]

as we enter the start of a semester and the dreaded Hour of Making Friends us upon us... if ur ever at a loss for what to say in one of those weird social situations where you only vaguely-know people, one of my favorite questions to ask is "what is your favorite food crime." a food crime is like the food combination that you love that other people find revolting. press them to take it further than pineapple on pizza, that's rote. food crimes is a good topic that has many benefits as it turns out all people are degenerates and also it will give you some cool ideas to try out later in the privacy of your own degenerate kitchen

the other good thing to ask is "okay but has anyone here ever been someplace haunted" bc it turns out if you ask most people directly they don't believe in ghosts, but many people are like "oh yeah i lived in a haunted house. ghosts aren't real tho"

[marclef]

Can you draw Fakino just being an annoying big blob that bothers Peppino while he’s cooking or sthm

PS: I’ll take the chance to say that I LOVE your art ! there’s something with how you draw your characters, the expressions and really unique to you and make your art very distinguishable :3 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

(AAAHHHH, well thank you!!! ❤❤ also so sorry i've taken so long to finish asks, i've been busy with a whole lot of stuff and it's hard to get drawing time in 😔 here are some sillies for you though, because Peppino probably has to deal with shit like this near-daily)

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 716

Wanda: “Did you see the little fancy soaps I put in the bathroom!”

Y/N: “They’re so cute! I love that they’re all shaped like pastries!”

Agatha: “The what.”

Wanda: “Oh, I forgot to tell you! I got some decorative pretty soaps for the bathroom, they’re mostly macaron shaped-“

Agatha: “No wonder they tasted so bad, I just thought they were out of date”

Wanda: “YOU ATE THEM?!”

Agatha: “I thought you put snacks in there!”

Wanda: “WHY WOULD I- WHY WOULD YOU-? Y/N, call poison control”

Y/N: “Again?”

[starpros-sunshine]

Starting a new collection and I will be calling this one ''Kitchen nightmares''

[b4kuch1n]

langa special

[ahollowgrave]

do they have any sensitivities to tastes?

Odette can't taste much, in truth! So no sensitivities. She can still taste strong flavors and she prefers sweet flavors over savory. Over time she will lose more and more of her self, sense of taste included, but for now she can still delight in a cupcake.

Thank you for the ask!

[ Small Details ]

[gourmet-trash]

As others have pointed out, I too reject "token straight friend Rose Walker" and instead give you "bad taste in women Rose Walker"

The first time it happens, Hob doesn't say anything. He doesn't even acknowledge, outwardly, that he noticed it at all. Between the Inn and his teaching job and, oh you know, just several hundreds of years of being around children and young adults, he can confidently say he has at least some modicum of knowledge on how to interact with them.

So, the first time, he doesn't say anything. He's cool like that.

He also doesn't say anything the second time.

But the third time he watches Rose Walker making figurative heart eyes at Johanna Constantine, of all people, he can't help himself. He also can't really pretend he doesn't see Rose so busy gawking that she misses the rim of her glass and splashes cider onto her jumper. She's sitting right in front of him at the bar, after all.

"Doing all right there?" he teases, passing a few napkins across the bar.

Rose grabs the proffered napkins quickly, visibly flustered while she dabs at the damp spot on her chest. "Just, uh, clumsy, I guess."

Hob snorts softly. "Or distracted," he says, lifting his eyebrows when she jerks her head up.

"...I don't know what you're talking about!"

Hob makes a little "sure you don't" humming sound and picks Rose's glass up to wipe it down for her while she deals with her jumper. "It's cute," he insists, even though he knows from experience that most young adults don't like to hear it. And judging from the face Rose makes, she's no exception.

It almost makes Hob laugh -- Dream makes a very similar expression when someone tells him he's cute.

For Rose's sake, he swallows down that particular amusement and sets the cider back in front of her. "It is! But you might want to work on being a smidge less obvious with the staring."

Rose clears her throat, passing the damp napkins back across the bar when he motions for them. "...It's that obvious?" she asks slowly.

"Little bit, I'm afraid," he says, smiling apologetically.

Rose groans at that and drops her face into her hands. Hob only just makes out the muffled, "Do you think she noticed?" that follows.

Hob glances to the corner of the Inn where Jo has roped some sorry sap into a game of darts. It's not going well for the lad if the jeering of his friends is anything to go by. "Mmm...she's a little distracted, so probably not this time."

"This time?!" Rose repeats, lifting her head out of her hands to balk at him.

"You've been very obvious about it, poppet."

"And you didn't tell me!? I can't ever come back here!" Rose hisses.

Hob bites back his amusement -- poorly, judging by Rose's narrow expression. "I promise it isn't that big of a deal."

"What is not that big of a deal?"

The next few seconds are spent by Hob and Rose startling, someone bumping the glass between them in the process, and then both of them frantically trying to catch said glass before it spills more cider over the bar. When the glass is upright again and they turn accusatory stares on the King of Dreams, sitting at the previously empty barstool at Rose's side, his expression is nonplussed if not vaguely amused.

"You know, one of these days you're actually going to give me a heart attack or something. And then you're gonna have to explain to Auntie Death why she's here," Rose points out.

"I will take that under advisement," Dream drawls, more obviously amused by then. And when Hob leans over the bar, he obligingly tips his head a bit to accept the kiss dropped against his temple.

"Hello, love. Please don't give any of my patrons heart attacks at the bar."

"I will endeavor not to," Dream assures him. But the scuffle over the cider has not distracted him, and he repeats, "What is not that big of a deal?"

"Nothing!' Rose says quickly -- too quickly -- before Hob has a chance to deflect with a bit more tact. "Hence, not a big deal," she adds, snatching the glass off the bar and taking a long drink.

Dream watches her for a moment, no doubt taking stock of the damp spot on her jumper and the blustering, before turning to Hob, expectant.

But Hob has not been a snitch for many, many years, and he is not looking to revive that particular character trait this century. He flashes Dream a smile and leans back from the bar, already grabbing a cocktail glass. "How about we try a French 75 today?"

Dream purses his lips, though Hob suspects it has more to do with his question being very obviously ignored and less to do with their ongoing game of "make Dream try a new cocktail every time he comes in until Hob finds one he actually likes."

"Hob." 

He hums to acknowledge he heard him, considering the gin he has on hand.

"What are you not telling me?"

Hob grabs one of the bottles. "That I don't think you're going to like the French 75."

He turns his back to fetch the champagne and to hide a grin when he hears an annoyed little huff from the other side of the bar. Dream would deny huffing, of course, so undignified. But he huffed. He was huffy.

"Rose Walker."

"No," Rose says shortly, setting her nearly empty glass back down. "Look, no offense Uncle Morpheus, but it's seriously not a big deal, and it's also not something I wanna talk about. Okay?"

It is not, apparently, okay. Hob can tell the second he turns back around, spots the telltale sheen of emotion in Dream's eyes. Rose probably did too, which is why she's very pointedly looking down at the last of her cider rather than at her Uncle. Because they have come a long way since the rocky start of their relationship, but Hob knows better than most how fiercely Dream wants to nurture this relationship with his niece and nephew, almost despite himself. 

And bless him, but jumping straight into teenagers and young adults, nevermind the complications of a crush, is a tall order for anyone, much less the anthropomorphic personification of dreams. He definitely hasn’t had as much hands on time with young humans as Hob. Or if he has, he’s…rusty, to say the least. 

"You were comfortable to discuss these things with Hob, but not with me?"

Rose groans outright and turns on her stool, however reluctantly, to face Lord Shaper. "No, actually, I didn't want to be talking about it with Professor Gadling, either. So if we could all stop talking about it and pretend this never happened, that would be great!" she said, shooting a pointed frown in Hob's direction for good measure.

He holds his hands up in as placating a gesture as he can manage with a lemon twist between his fingers, and Dream glances between them for a moment before, with obvious reluctance, inclining his head.

"Very well," he says. "It is not my intention to make you uncomfortable."

"Thank you," Rose says, less terse, and Hob sets another cider in front of her at the same time he passes Dream the French 75. Dream eyes the cocktail with no small amount of distrust and Hob can’t help but laugh.

"Oh, come on, don't make that face before you've even tried it."

"Yeah, they're not bad. If you don't like it, we can switch," Rose offers, and while Dream does not look anymore convinced that he'll enjoy the beverage, or that he'd prefer Rose's cider, Hob can tell some of his proverbial feathers (well, currently proverbial, but sometimes more literal?) have settled. 

Heaven help him, but he does so adore this impossible, mercurial creature.

At their encouragement, Dream does eventually take a sip of the cocktail. And while his reaction is not quite as strong as it had been to the martini from last week or the Alabama slammer which, admittedly, Hob had only made as a means of getting Dream to say Alabama slammer, he is clearly not impressed.

"What do you think?" Rose asks, amused.

"It is...palatable," Dream says after a moment, and Rose laughs when he lifts it for another reluctant sip.

"Don't drink it if you don't like it!" she protests, waving for him to put the glass back down, which Dream does with something not unlike relief.

"Starting to think gin might not be your thing," Hob says, glancing over when the bell over the door jingles. He smiles and waves a hand that way. "See? Cor can use the door."

"Didn't you say he broke into your apartment through a window last month?" Rose asks, smirking when Hob shushes her.

But, by that point, Corinthian is close enough to hear. And to reach around Dream to pluck the French 75 off the bar. "And guess who finally got the damn locks on his windows repaired after that?"

"That is not a good reason for breaking into my flat!" Hob protests.

"It's a perfect reason for breaking in! I could've stabbed you in your sleep!" Corinthian argues.

"You have stabbed me in my sleep!"

Corinthian chuckles over the cocktail, half draped against Dream's side, who shifts subtle to make room for him there. "I have done that," he agrees.

"You've what?" Dream says, turning a frown on Corinthian who waves a dismissive hand.

"Metaphorically," he lies, before sidestepping out of the conversation by leaning around Dream again to flash a smile down the bar. "Well, hey there, Rosebud."

Rose, whose attention had drifted back in the direction of the darts game -- new bloke trying his hand now and losing just as spectacularly -- turns quickly back around. "Hey! Where's Jed?"

"Dropped him off at the movies with a couple friends."

Rose frowns. "...What movie?"

"One that I'm certain Jed and his friends were able to buy tickets to themselves, of course," Corinthian says breezily. Rose narrows her eyes a little further.

"If Jed has nightmares all week, it's gonna be your fault."

Corinthian makes a little noise of disagreement over his drink, and Hob starts wiping down the bar to keep himself useful while they bicker. And to avoid letting Dream pull him into any further interrogation about the whole stabbing thing.

"Technically, that would be My Lord's fault, wouldn't it?" Corinthian says, motioning at Dream between them, whose suspicious expression has not wavered.

Rose rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean!"

"Uh huh. Didn't know you were so into darts, Rose."

Hob pauses his cleaning to glance up between them, Rose visibly flustered and Corinthian's eyebrows lifted high above his sunglasses while he sips Dream's drink.

"What?" Rose eventually says, and Hob doesn't wince but it's a near miss. Poor thing, she's usually better toe to toe with Cor in one of his more meddling moods.

"You know what I mean," he drawls, and Rose snatches her cider up to chug. Again.

Rose knows what he means. And Hob knows what he means, even if he's not entirely sure how Corinthian himself knows. But Dream, sitting between the three of them, clearly does not, and he misunderstands rather wildly.

"Would you care to play darts, Rose Walker?" 

"That's a great idea!" Corinthian insists while Rose coughs around her drink. "That gal in the corner seems like she's pretty good, I bet she could talk you through the rules."

And then Dream turns his head and his attention alights on the darts game already happening. "Johanna Constantine is here?" he asks, looking back to Hob for confirmation.

"She's a regular these days, yeah," Hob says, and he'd argue that Dream doesn't stand from the stool so much as he pours himself from it, too liquid in his movements for the human shape he wears.

"Then I shall have to introduce you, Rose," he insists, and Rose only manages a token, squeaked protest before Dream is ushering her towards the darts game.

Hob swats Corinthian with the towel he'd been wiping the counter with. "That wasn't necessary," he points out, trying very hard to tap down on his own amusement.

"Sure it was! This way Dream can figure it out himself, and then he can be the one to tell her there's no way in hell we're gonna approve her trying to date Johanna fucking Constantine."

Hob laughs despite himself and leans against the bar, smiling when Corinthian takes up Dream's abandoned stool to meet him halfway. "She is a grown woman, you know. We can't stop her from trying to date who she likes."

"We can sure as hell try."

"We can do that," he agrees, leaning in to return the quick, sharp kiss Corinthian dips in for. "Does he know how to play darts?" Hob asks, glancing towards the corner when Corinthian leans back.

"I have absolutely no idea." [ ← prev ] [ next → ]

[figofswords]

barley tea with lemon is really good too! Most of my favorite teas have come from hmart including that one :)

GOD that sounds good don’t tempt me with a good time. if I go buy any more tea I think my roommate might legally have to start fining me. here’s our current stash. all of these are mine except for the bigelow ones

I don’t even DRINK all of these. and the worst part is I do need to go back to the tea store bc I ran out of my favorite lavender earl grey. there are 14 different types of green tea in here btw if anyone was wondering. not counting the corn silk which has a green tea base

[call-me-frosting-or-not-idc]

Making cake lesss gooooo

[floofysmallbob]

this was actually a fairly easy redesign I like this one

Ok, it did turn out with a bit less detail than I would have liked, but I didn’t know how to incorporate every tiny detail into this perfectly, and it turned out really well anyway in my opinion. I did change his name, because “Sugarman” sounds dumb, and Sugar Rush is the name of his quirk, so like almost all of the other redesigns, his name is a pun of sugar rush and the fact that he has super strength.

So here’s my design for Sweets Hero: Sugar Crush

chef’s coat!

considered some sort of apron/apron motif but figured it wouldn’t be too practical

track pants

athletic shoes

essentially a tank full of sugar water, as consuming pure granulated sugar can be unhealthy

utility belt, mostly filled with sweets and caramels(caramelized sugar is easier to eat)

mask contraption containing straws connecting to the sugar water tank

unhooks for eating or drinking

gloves reminiscent of the sanitary gloves bakers and chefs wear

steel knuckled gloves

probably has a logo on the coat somewhere that I didn’t draw

not pictured because I didn’t draw the face but normal looking thick lips instead of whatever the hell this is

BODYSUIT:

underneath the chef coat and pants, I’ve added a one piece inspired by weightlifters!

WARM WEATHER VERSION:

short sleeves

looser pants

higher water to sugar ratio

WARM WEATHER VERSION BODYSUIT:

sleeveless

thats it

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

thicker coat

darker gloves

sugar water tank is heated up

COLD WEATHER VERSION BODYSUIT:

long sleeves

longer leg sleeves

i forgot what they’re called

turtleneck

thicker material

[ghostgirl-ward]

[softquietsteadylove]

Ahhhh second first date! Second first date! Of course i need to know how it goes!!

"And the server was definitely super jealous of me."

Thena laughed again. That was all she'd been doing since they left the house, she was quite sure. Since Gil 'picked her up', that was to say.

It was very sweet. He had showed up at her guest room door, dressed up and with a charming smile, even making an attempt to look nervous. He asked if she was ready, offered his arm; he was the perfect gentleman for their first date.

Her second chance.

Of course she had to know more about their first-first date. And Gil was happy to elucidate her once she insisted enough that telling her that much would not cause her brain to catch fire (as the doctor seemed to have implied in some way).

"But it was a nice dinner, then I walked you back to where you were staying at the end of the beach," he recounted, his eyes completely starry. "I had never gotten to actually have a romantic walk on the beach, before. Total bucket list stuff."

"It sounds lovely," she remarked mildly, without much choice with no memory of it for herself.

"The moon was out and everything, and it looked really pretty with your hair and your white dress, and the shawl thing-y you had on over it." Gil gestured vaguely to simulate the flowing garment she had worn over her bare shoulders. It certainly painted a picture, and she was quite sure she knew what he was referring to, having glimpsed a long white shawl in their closet.

She tried not to laugh too hard, mindful of the gentle atmosphere of the bakery. The tables were really just for people waiting for orders. They didn't have a fancy coffee machine, or an official barista. But Gil did bring out cups of real, boiled hot cocoa from the back--a secret only for their own, of course. They were waiting on their fresh baked pastries to come out and cool.

"I was so distracted by you that I didn't even realise when we were back at your doorstep," he sighed, but his comedic tone faded. He looked at her more softly, leaning his cheek against his hand. "I told you flat out that I was having such a good time I wished you were staying further away."

Thena attempted to laugh into her mug, this time.

"You laughed at it then, too." He sounded more wistful now. "But I told you I was serious and asked if I could see you again. I don't know why you were so surprised."

Probably because she had never been one to be asked out by someone like him. Men, sure, but not very sweet, very funny, very honest gentlemen like Gil. Just...men. She wasn't approachable enough for someone as sweet and charming as Gil.

She still thought that, to a degree.

"But you agreed, and I asked if I could kiss you too," he at least smiled at this part of the story, although his longing for the past remained. "You said I didn't have to ask, which wasn't a yes, but I guessed I was supposed to read between the lines."

Again, the Thena in the story and Thena herself in the present were different people. But she felt her stomach clench faintly at the idea.

"I did kiss you," Gil sighed, returning to his lighter, more jovial tone. "And it totally blew my mind. I mean if I wasn't in love with you already, that would'a done it."

"Gil," she admonished lightly, partly laughing and partly sheepish at the description of this passionate kiss she couldn't remember at all.

"What?" he chuckled before taking a sip of his own hot chocolate. "You wanted to know. And that date changed the rest of my life, sweetheart."

She liked it when he called her that. She nodded, looking down at her mug. "I suppose I did. It's a nice story."

"Yeah," Gil concluded, although his sigh felt a little heavier.

She still didn't have any memories of her own to contribute. But she attempted to jump over that wave of guilt, trying to put a smile back on his handsome face. "What was our second date like?"

He clearly knew what she was trying to do, but he kept quiet about it at least. He pulled himself up in his seat and started his next story. "Well, we were still on vacation. I asked a little more about you, and you at least told me you were an artist, and you were there on leave because you found teaching wasn't really your thing."

Thena winced faintly. She was sure that was an understatement. She did have memories of teaching before moving to their current residence, and none of them made her glad to have them instead of memories of Gil.

"I told you that I had been a boxer in college, and that I was just working some boring office job and also wanted," he paused to shrug and make a face, "a change of scenery."

They were both in the midst of becoming different people when they met. How fascinating, Thena mused. Although she was quite sure Gil had always been sweet and charming and funny. Just a feeling.

"It was actually you, on that date, who asked what I liked to do for fun," he admitted much more quietly. He looked down at the table, picking at a chip in the lacquer. "I told you I liked baking and you said I could try working part time in it, just to see if I liked it enough to make it my job."

"It sounds like something I would suggest," she agreed. It was hard to imagine the man she knew now doing anything else, really. Although it was almost funny to imagine him stuffing those muscles of his into a regular office suit.

"I said I'd give it a try," he chuckled, reaching for her hand. She gave it reflexively, sense memory knowing Gil much better than her own mind. He kissed her knuckle. "And now I have the best job in the world."

She smiled down at their adjoined hands as well, feeling as if the weight of the world were on top of them. "The date, Gil?"

"Right, right," he chuckled, allowing her to move the story away from the more emotional of the topics. "Well, you suggested that, and I asked about your art some more. And since the restaurant looked kind of full, and I didn't think that was your scene, I asked if you wanted to walk along the boardwalk a little first."

"We walked by a bakery there, and you asked me what everything was, since I was 'the expert' and all."

That also sounded like something she would say; Thena attempted not to roll her eyes at herself.

"I pointed out the regular stuff," he shrugged and even looked at the pastry cases in front of them in the moment. "Croissants, cupcakes, they had some tarts. You asked about one in particular."

Thena tilted her head as he paused, but she leaned back as he did, having been so sucked into the story that she didn't even notice Ajak coming over with two small plates.

"Thanks," Gil smiled at the petite woman, obviously familiar with her.

"Thank you," Thena added, keeping her eyes on the woman who only smiled and waved in response. Ajak knew her, Thena was aware, but Gil had been determined that they could meet formally when Thena felt more ready to reintroduce those parts of their life to herself.

"This is called a petit four, just a small cake," he chuckled, turning his own plate so she could admire the little dessert from all sides. "It's pretty old school, but you asked me about it when I pointed it out to you. I bought one so you could sample it, even though you told me not to."

Thena eyed the little dessert. It seemed to be vanilla, small and glazed completely white. There was something on the top of it.

"I add just a little sea salt to mine. Call it a secret ingredient."

It was just a hint of salt, but it sank into the sweetness immediately. Just like on that day five years ago, she had tasted the saltiness of the ocean air around them as she took a bite. She could remember the wind on her skin, and how warm Gil's hand was in contrast. The smell of the little shop and the breeze around them, and Gil's cologne wafting gently over to her.

Thena whipped her head up at him. He blinked at her sudden movement but didn't say anything. He was trying to read the expression on her face.

She didn't have any other memories of it. Just that one moment had jumped out at her as she had tasted that same taste--perhaps an improvement upon it. She could remember Gil's smile as she had told him that she liked it.

"You promised."

"Hm?"

She blinked, trying not to cry over a silly little cake. "You promised you would make me one sometime. I told you I expected it to be better, since you were indeed, 'the expert'."

Gil teared up immediately. Of course he did, the gentle hearted giant. "Y-You-"

She looked down at her cake again, the pressure immediately mounting. "It's just that one moment. I can't remember past that. But-"

Thena startled as he launched from his seat across the tiny cafe table from her. He caught her lips at a funny angle, but they both tasted like chocolate and vanilla and sea salt. Her eyes fluttered.

"Sorry," he chuckled, offering a sheepish grin as he seated himself, ignoring the worried glances of other bakery patrons. "Couldn't help myself."

"Hm," she pursed her lips faintly, and he returned to his cake, unable to keep himself from staring at her. She dabbed at her lips, resisting the urge to fan herself. She still had her coat on, but it felt far too hot now in their little corner by the window. "Whatever happened to asking?"

"You told me I didn't have to ask."

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 287

*Billy and Tommy lean down to scoop up some snow to taste*

Wanda: “BOYS! Don’t eat the snow! You don’t know if it’s clean or not!”

Agatha and Y/N: *turn to face her with mouths packed full of snow*

Wanda: “NO!”

Agatha and Y/N: *sprint away*

[jacqcrisis]

caleb: don't worry, I won't be in your apartment too long

zeke: no, what? no, baby, stay. don't go. please. you can stay on my couch forever if you want. i promise my cat will love you and i won't even leave raw meat on the counter to get funky while your here please don't leave ಥ_ಥ

[betterbemeta]

secret high level trans feeling:

feeling nothing special or stylish when you look at cisgender people that are your agab

yet

sharing a sense of style and feeling kinship with trans people that are your agab

because 'assuming an expression of this gender' is a shared experience and a version of a thing that looks euphoric rather than being imposed from without as a form of control is genuinely miraculous-- even if you do not want to live life 'as' that gender or even any binary gender at all.

[princehendir]

I don't mean to brag truly but I do consider myself a bit of an, ah, connoisseur, if you will, of cough and cold medications